Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Luigi woke up with a start, dizzy and unfocused. Where was he? Why wasn’t he in his bed? Why was the world moving?

He realized that he was on the fast moving, Toad-driven bus, and relaxed. He yawned. They were going to a hotel, on a vacation trip.

Polterpup appeared next to him, and Luigi jumped with a yelp. He smiled at the ghost, realizing who it was, and petted the dog. Polterpup licked his face, then jumped onto the window seat and stared out the window. Luigi followed suit, and gasped despite himself.

The hotel was grand, beyond anyone’s wildest imagination. It towered into the air, dwarfing the bus Luigi and everyone else was on easily. The well kept grounds and golden sheen made it look like something straight out of a story book.

Toad jerked the wheel in a sharp 90 degree turn, hitting the gate as he drove them into the hotel grounds. Luigi yelped and grabbed at his seat so he didn’t fall from the van’s sharp movements. Could he drive any wilder?!

Toad jerked them to a stop, and Luigi let out a pent up breath as he sat up. At the front of the bus, Peach and Mario were getting off, the toadstools following one by one.

Luigi paused a moment, then picked up his suitcase and followed.

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Luigi had heard the phrase too good to be true many times in his life. It had, unfortunately, applied to him multiple times.

Namely, a free hotel trip had turned into a ghost-filled trap.

Luigi crept down the now darkened hallway, shining his flashlight in front of him so he could see. He was definitely glad Mario hadn’t been able to talk him out of bringing a flashlight to the hotel. Call him paranoid, but Luigi just couldn’t sleep without some sort of protection against any possible ghosts.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, his paranoia had paid off. He now could at least stun ghosts, even if he couldn’t capture them. Or defend against them in any way except running.

Ah, well. He’d always been a runner at heart. Might as well stick to what you’re good at, eh?

Luigi opened the door to Mario’s room, and his heart sank as he looked around, pointing his flashlight in all directions to make sure he was correct.

Mario was missing.

Of course he was. Why wouldn’t he be? When it came to ghosts, Mario was always missing. It wasn’t his fault, of course, but Luigi couldn’t help but feel targeted whenever something like this happened. Ghosts were his greatest fear. Not Mario’s. So he was the one who got to face them.

Luigi’s heart nearly stopped as he heard a loud noise coming from the hallway. He spun around, pointing his flashlight at the door to stop or stun any ghosts.

None came.

Luigi realized with a sinking feeling that no ghosts were coming into the room. He’d have to go out to face them.

He glanced at the window behind him and briefly wondered if it would be easier to try climbing out and running before any ghosts could find him. Then he shook his head. Then he shook his head. Mario and Peach were missing, and probably all the Toads as well. He couldn’t just leave them.

Plus, ghost hunting was- unfortunately- his element. Even if he ended up dying, he had a better chance against these paranormal enemies than anyone else. Even Mario.

Ironic, he thought with grim amusement, that the brother who jumps at shadows ends up being the ghost hunter.

The noise rang out through the hallway again, and once again Luigi jumped. Ineffectually, he took a deep breath to calm his nerves. Then he walked out into the hall to face whatever ghost it was.

He had a feeling he knew who it was going to be.

Chapter Text

Nothing happened to Luigi until he reached the hallway, where the two branching corridors met at the elevator.

Helen Gravely, now incorporeal, and, well, ghost-like, came to face Luigi with her unnerving grin.

“Is your room living up to your expectations?” She asked with fake innocence, still playing the part of a helpful hotel owner. “Doesn’t it SCREAM good taste?”

Luigi, through no real fault of his own, completely zoned out on the rest of what she said. He was too busy internally yelling at himself. Free mansion. Free hotel trip. How could he not have seen it before?

“Good things can happen to you, bro,” Mario had said. “Not every random fortune is a ghost trap. Some things can-a just be coincidence, you know?”

Mario had almost convinced him by the time they’d gotten to the hotel. But now Luigi would have the last laugh. He’d been right, the one time he would have rather been wrong. It was a ghost trap.

Great. He could laugh one last time as he died because his brother hadn’t let him pack his Poltergust for a hotel trip.

It turned out Luigi probably should have been listening to Helen, because he was completely unprepared to come face-to-face with King Boo as the hotel owner swept to the side dramatically.

“Surprise, Luigi!” King Boo said with a menacing laugh. “It’s-a me, King Boo!”

Luigi didn’t stick around to hear any more. Usually, he stayed and listened to villain rants for the sake of being polite- that way, if he did lose, hopefully they would at least return the favor and kill him painlessly. It was kind of a philosophy of his, one that Mario teased him about.

But right now, Luigi didn’t have a weapon, or any form of defense. He had no chance against the King of the Boos, so being polite wouldn’t help him in any way right now.

He turned and decked it down the hallway as fast as he could.

“What the- Hey! You can’t do that!” King Boo said, startled at Luigi’s sudden and uncharacteristic action. “I wasn’t finished!”

“Tough!” Luigi said without looking back. He reached the door of Mario’s suite, just as illusion orbs made it disappear from his sight. Knowing the wall in front of him was simply a trick, he reached out and took the doorknob. He turned it, and-

It was locked.

Luigi muttered a curse under his breath and turned his head to look at King Boo. The not-technically-ghost looked unimpressed.

“What, you think I’d let you escape that easily?” He asked. “Especially after such a rude greeting? You didn’t even let me finish what I was going to say!”

“Let me guess. Oh, I’ve finally caught you, you’ll make a great portrait, what poetic justice that I can make you my centerpiece now!” Luigi looked back and kicked the invisible door in frustration. His King Boo voice was actually a relatively fair impression, in his own opinion.

“Oh ho! You’re feeling cocky today, aren’t you?” King Boo said. “Confidence or not, you can’t escape me this time, plumber!”

“On the contrary, I’m about two seconds away from a panic attack. Sarcasm is a coping mechanism.” He turned to King Boo. “Right. Magic portrait now, I’m assuming?”

“No desperate tricks, then?” King Boo asked.

“I could jump down the laundry shoot, if you’d prefer. I was going to follow my hunch and try climbing out the window, but it turns out the door was locked.”

King Boo snorted. “You know, I was expecting something more impressive from you, Luigi. Some hidden weapon or something. This is honestly almost disappo- ahh!”

Luigi, who had figured out how to change his flashlight to give an extra-bright blast of light, stunned the Boo and ran.

“Luigi, you little-!”

“You wanted something impressive, right?!” Luigi called. He reached the end of the hallway and opened the laundry shoot. At this point, it was his only option. Other than becoming wall decoration, that is. “I’ll take you up on that!”

WIthout a second glance back, the plumber climbed into the chute and jumped down.

Chapter Text

Luigi woke up.

That was a surprise. He honestly hadn’t expected to survive a five-floor fall with nothing but a few towels to land on.

Well, good thing he’d been through so much craziness that surviving when he should be dead was really nothing too interesting. Or bad thing. Depending on your perspective.

Luigi climbed out of the towel bin, pulling out his flashlight to look around. No ghosts in the five seconds he’d been awake. Pretty good sign.

He walked through the laundry room, picking up coins and bills he found on the ground. King Boo compensating him for his terror as ever.

Luigi knew that the gold was mostly a distraction to keep him occupied as he walked through the mansion- or hotel. If he was busy picking up money, ghosts could sneak up on him. Plus, gold would weigh him down.

But Luigi just couldn’t leave it. Hunting ghosts wasn’t something he could do. Cleaning random piles of trash was. Doing small tasks like this helped him cope.

He made it into the garage, but honestly, he was more interested in getting out of the hotel than climbing the floors one by one. If he had a Poltergust, maybe things would be different, but all he had was a flashlight. Not exactly something he could fight with.

Luigi tried opening the garage door, but it wasn’t working. Figures. No escape would be so easy. He sighed and turned to the garage door. The windows would all be similarly unusable, so the only way out would be to make it to the top and defeat King Boo.

Somehow.

Luigi walked out into the hallway, shining his flashlight around to make sure no ghosts were there. He didn’t see any. Good enough.

He stepped out into the hall.

“BOO!!”

“AHHH!” Luigi screamed and instinctively swung his flashlight at the Boo that appeared in front of him. The flashlight head hit the not-ghost with a solid thud, sending the Boo reeling back.

“Ow!” The Boo glared at Luigi angrily. “That hurt!”

“Good!” Luigi snapped, matching the Boo’s tone. “Don’t scare me like that, or I’ll do it again!”

The Boo sneered. “You think you’re tough, huh? Well, I got news for you, buddy! You’re not half as dangerous without that vacuum of yours! Even the weakest ghost could kill you in their sleep!”

Luigi scoffed. “Is that a challenge?! I can make it to your King’s room without a Poltergust! Just watch me!”

“Fine! I’ll go tell him you’re coming!” The Boo said. “I’d like to see you get all the way there without anything but a flashlight!”

“Fine! I’ll see you there!”

The Boo laughed scornfully and disappeared. Luigi lowered his flashlight with a sigh of relief. He’d managed to outbluff that enemy. Granted, most Boos were that easy to trick. He could probably survive them.

But the other ghosts? The ones who he couldn’t trick, who would trap him and kill him without hesitation? How could he possibly manage to get to the top floor of the hotel?

Did he even want to get to the top floor? Couldn’t he just run instead? He had no chance without a weapon.

No. Mario and Peach were captured. He couldn’t leave them. He couldn’t run.

He would make it to King Boo.

He had to.

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Luigi jumped to the side as a ghost lunged at him, avoiding the attack narrowly. He vaulted over the hotel check-in desk, almost accidentally kicking over another ghost as he did so.

He was in the main hotel lobby, and was not happy. They’d boarded up the front door, which sealed his fate completely. Even though he’d decided he wouldn’t run away, he’d nursed the idea in the back of his mind. Having a backup would be smart.

But now, there was no path for him except up. He was being forced to push his way through the hotel, just to prove himself to King Boo- once again- that he was worthy enough of the king’s attention.

It pissed him off.

Luigi stunned both of the ghosts in front of him, then used the heavy key in his hand to knock them out. He’d found that ghosts could be hit by objects, as long as the object
was heavy enough and moved quick enough to hurt. It worked especially well if their hearts were showing or if he’d stunned them with the flashlight beforehand.
It made him feel somewhat better. He wasn’t completely helpless. He could bash and run.

It would have to be good enough.

Chapter Text

Luigi met the first boss ghost back in the garage.

It was the one who had taken their luggage when they’d gotten here. He’d been wearing a mask and outfit to cover up the fact that he was a ghost, of course, but now that he wasn’t wearing it, it was quite obvious what he was.

The ghost was sorting out luggage, placing all the trunks in piles. He looked like he was struggling, picking up heavy and solid objects with incorporeal arms. Luigi almost felt a flash of pity for him, then remembered that this was a ghost who would kill him as soon as he noticed him.

Luigi had returned to the garage because he’d hoped there wouldn’t be any ghosts. Since he couldn’t clear out any floors with a Poltergust, there was no place he could use as a base. He’d hoped the ghosts would avoid the basement.

No such luck.

Luigi was about to leave before the ghost could see him, when he noticed two bright, shiny objects in the ghost’s hand. They looked important. Really important.

Luigi-was-about-to-risk-his-life-over-them important.

Before he could think twice about this probably very stupid stunt, he climbed up onto one of the trunks and sat on it.

“Hey… uh- are you busy?” He asked, trying to mimic the unnerving, chittering tone of ghosts. It sounded fair enough. Hopefully.

“Who’s asking?” The ghost asked. He didn’t look up from his work, thankfully. Maybe Luigi could pull this off.

“I’m a g-” Luigi stopped, realizing that ghosts probably didn’t refer to them as such. “An assistant. On the… eighth floor.”

The bellhop ghost grunted. “Morty being as eccentric as ever, huh? I swear, he loses his megaphone every other day.”

“Yeah. Morty… sent me to t-tell you he needs your help,” Luigi said. His voice hitched slightly. He hated lying.

“What, does he want me to be one of his actors?” The bellhop asked with a snort. “He’s always doing that. He would probably ask Luigi to play in his show if he could get away with it.”

Luigi was startled by the mention of his name, then relaxed. “You think he’d do that?”

“Oh, without a doubt. The crackpot won’t even try to capture that ghost hunter,” The bellhop said.

“Huh.”

“Yeah, it’s insane,” The bellhop said. “Anyway, uh… why don’t you go tell Morty I’ll be there later? I need to finish this, and…”

“Oh, yeah, I understand,” Luigi said. “I’ll do that. One last thing, though.”

“Shoot.”

“What are those in your hand?” Luigi asked. He held his breath, hoping against hope the bellhop wouldn’t find that question suspicious.

Thankfully, the ghost didn’t miss a beat. “Elevator buttons. Miss Gravely had them all taken out, to stop Luigi. A couple others and I are supposed to… I dunno, guard them? Not that a ghost could stop Luigi, of all people. But I guess we’ll try.”

“Uh-huh.” Luigi, to his credit, did not explode with anxiety at his next words. “C-c-can I see th-them?”

The bellhop shrugged and set them on a nearby trunk. “I guess. But if the ghost hunter gets them, it’ll be on your head, not mine.”

Luigi nearly laughed out loud as he leaned over and grabbed the elevator buttons. He slipped them in his pocket, then put down two gold coins in their place- hoping it would sound similar enough to the bellhop, who so far showed no indication of looking up.

Fortunately, it seemed his luck would hold for now. The bellhop didn’t look up, and Luigi took the opportunity to leave.

Without even saying a word.

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Luigi sat in the elevator, staring up at the panel. The buttons B1, 1, and 5 all flashed at him, almost impatiently.

Hurry up, hurry up, your friends are in trouble, they seemed to say. Mario would have no problem right now. Be more like him.

Be more like Mario. It was a thought Luigi had a lot. Mario was brave. He wasn’t afraid. He knew what to do. He was a hero, in every sense of the word.

Luigi wasn’t a hero. He wasn’t brave. He didn’t know what to do. He wasn’t like Mario.

But for now, he could pretend to be.

He stood up and pressed the button.

Chapter Text

Floor five was largely uninhabited by ghosts. There were a good number of rats and spiders though, and Luigi had to scare off about a million pests as he walked. They all dropped gold then he walked, and pretty soon he had collected a good thousand dollars in cash- not even counting the gold and random gems he’d found. He’d have to start making piles of gold in the elevator- his unofficial base for now- if this kept up.

Luigi inspected each room on the floor nervously, tense that a ghost would appear at any second and he’d be caught by surprise. Thankfully, nothing happened until he reached the end suite.

Gently and carefully, all his instincts warning him that this would be the room with an enemy inside it, he twisted the door knob and pushed open the door to a crack. He winced at the small click that came with opening a door, and the slight creak as the rusty hinges were moved from their original position. It was a small noise, but to his stretched nerves, it sounded like a firecracker had gone off.

The ghost inside didn’t hear it.

It was a ghost dressed as a maid, with an outfit that almost looked like it was from the Victorian era. She was dusting off the dresser when Luigi opened the door, and didn’t seem to notice the green plumber silently jump and mouth a curse as his fingers were smashed in between the door and the frame.

To his credit, he did not make any sound as pain ran through his arm like it had caught on fire. He did, however, mouth a series of curses in both Italian and English, cradling his hand painfully. He had the presence of mind to hold the door open with his foot so it didn’t slam closed, at least.

The reason he’d let the door slip was because he’d gotten distracted. He’d seen a reddish-brown briefcase on the floor next to the ghost, nondescript in every way except one.

A metal engraving with E. Gadd’s head on it.

Oh, plus an elevator button, of course.

Luigi opened the door a bit more, and this time the maid did notice. She looked up, and seemed shocked to see him. With a cry of alarm, she grabbed E. Gadd’s trunk and swallowed it whole. Luigi gaped as it landed in her incorporeal stomach, still clearly visible.

Luigi stood there for a few seconds, debating whether or not whatever was in that case was worth risking his life over. E. Gadd’s inventions were all cool, but would it be useful? Like, a communication device or fancy TV wouldn't be of any help in Luigi’s current situation.

But that maid did have an elevator button, which Luigi needed. So he’d have to fight her either way. Whatever that invention was, it would be a bonus for him. Hopefully.

Luigi walked back down the hallway, charging his flashlight to shock the ghost once he found her. He hoped he could do this without a fight, but probably not. She was alerted to his presence and identity, so he couldn’t really trick her like he had the bellhop.

He reached the doorway nearest the end and opened it, flashing his charged light inside.

The ghost-maid froze, studden, and Luigi took the opportunity to grab a chair and throw it at her. It went through her head, but dislodged the briefcase from her stomach slightly. The ghost reeled back, then glared at Luigi angrily. Luigi jumped to the side quickly as she charged at him.

The plumber stunned her again, and once again grabbed a nearby chair and threw it at her. The briefcase completely came out, clattering to the floor. But Luigi had more to think about than that.

He dived down, hitting the ground as the ghost flew above him. How was he supposed to both get the elevator button from her and not die? So far, his strategy had been to hit and run. He couldn’t do that here, not if he wanted to progress from this floor.

Luigi yelped and ruled to the side as the maid tried to hit him. His fingers curled around the handle of the fallen briefcase, and instinctively, he swung upward with it. It caught the ghost solidly in the head, and she fell back, stunned.

The elevator button slipped onto the floor, and Luigi called that as much of a victory as any. He rolled to his feet, and ran out of the room, E. Gadd’s briefcase and the elevator button in hand.

Chapter Text

Gooigi solidified.

It was a strange process, to say the least. Very strange, especially to describe.

It was less like coming to life and more like waking up from a foggy dream. As his body came together, piece by piece, his consciousness was also struggling to place where he was and what was happening.

It was easier and quicker to solidify when he was only in his container for short times. He could transfer from jar to action in nearly an instant, if he was only formless for about an hour or less. The longer he was formless, the longer it took to process.

From his mental count, Gooigi had been formless for at least a few days. Everything felt blurry and unclear, his surroundings not snapping into focus for a while. Where… where was he? The last thing he remembered was Professor E. Gadd getting excited about a ghost catching trip. The man had said it would be good practice for Gooigi.

And then... and then what?

His surroundings finally clicked into focus, and Gooigi came face to face with himself.

The duplicate, holding Gooigi’s jar, jumped back with a strangled yelp. He looked shocked and confused, and even with a little fear mixed in.

Gooigi and the duplicate stared at each other for a long time, the room quiet. Then, suddenly, the duplicate sat down, slumping back against the wall. He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes.

Gooigi walked over and squatted down next to him, sitting on his heeled. He poked at the duplicate, mildly confused and curious.

“Ha...” The duplicate said. He sounded both amused and angry. Maybe. These mixed emotions were hard to read. Not like E. Gadd, who was as open as a book. “Of course E. Gadd would make an ectoplasm copy of myself to be a ghost hunter instead of me. He wants me to be his successor, and if he can’t have that, he’ll make a version of me that wants to hunt ghosts. Will you please stop that?!”

Gooigi recoiled slightly as the copy looked up at him with anger. Or annoyance. Or frustration. One of those. Gooigi couldn’t tell. This stranger emphasised his words so
differently from E. Gadd, it was hard to process any… what did the professor call it? Inferred social cues.

The copy- err… not-copy?- sighed. “Sorry,” He said apologetically. “I shouldn’t snap at you like that. If you can even hear me.”

Gooigi wondered why the stranger thought he couldn’t hear him. Why wouldn’t he be able to?

“I just- I’m tired of it,” The stranger said. “I’m tired of- of this game, where I have to prove myself to King Boo for him to even deign to fight me. I’m tired of fighting wave after wave of ghosts, when eventually they’re all going to escape and this whole cycle will start over again.”

He paused, then gave a little laugh. “Oh, I’m being ridiculous, aren’t I? I shouldn’t be sitting here complaining, not when Peach and Mario and the Toads are all trapped.”

Googi felt like he recognized the name Mario. E. Gadd had mentioned the name once or twice. Who was it, though? Another ghost hunter? A scientist? Gooigi couldn’t
remember.

Gooigi stood up as the stranger did, and moved back with a start as he held out a hand to him.

“Sorry again,” The stranger said. “I’ve been ranting about my problems this whole time without even having introduced myself. Even if you can’t hear me, it’s polite, and normally I’m a polite person. So, my name is Luigi. What’s yours?”

Gooigi froze. This was… Luigi?!

Now, Gooigi had a sense of his own life. He’d only been alive a month or so at the very most. So he knew he had a lot in life to learn. There were so many things he didn’t know.

One thing he knew, however, was Luigi the ghost hunting extraordinaire.

E. Gadd talked about Luigi constantly. It was a never ending topic of conversation for him. Luigi the ghost hunter. Luigi the captured-an-entire-mansion-worth-of-ghosts-twice. Luigi the hey-this-invention-will-be-useful-for-the-next-ghost-hunt-if-only-I-could-get-Luigi-to-help-us. Gooigi was literally named after and modelled after the man.

The stranger- Luigi- tilted his head. “Buddy, uh… you’re supposed to take my hand? And shake it? And… y’know what, never mind. I’m still not even sure you’re not as unthinking as, like, a robot or something. But I do need a name for you, and I can’t really call you green-goopy-copy-thing. So… how does Green-Luigi sound? Since you’re… y’know… Green and all.”

Gooigi shrugged. He didn’t see a way he could communicate with his name to the man, so he would take anything, really.

“No, never mind,” Luigi said after a few seconds, shaking his head. “Reminds me too much of Green-Mario. I’d rather not bring that back right now. Uhh… uhm…”

After a little bit, he snapped his fingers. “Got it! Gooigi! Since you’re me, and you’re made of ectoplasm!”

Gooigi nodded with some surprise. Luigi had figured that out really quickly, all things considered.

“Gooigi,” Luigi said. “Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if that ended up being your real name. E. Gadd is ridiculous with his puns.”

Gooigi wasn’t sure what a pun was, so he just nodded again. Luigi smiled.

“Gooigi,” He repeated. “Welcome to the team.”

Chapter Text

Being on a team with Luigi was an… interesting experience, to say the least. There were so many things the green dressed man did differently that E. Gadd, and it was fascinating to watch and see all the strange actions he did.

For one thing, Luigi was moving constantly. He never stopped, even when he was standing still. He was always fidgeting, playing with the straps of his overalls or running a hand through his hair. One of his favorite things to do was flick his flashlight on and off in a rapid pattern or charge the lightbulb to deliver a giant blast of light at nothing at all. Even if his hands weren’t moving, he would be humming or tapping his foot against the ground. The man never stopped doing something.

It was such a direct contrast to Gooigi’s passive motionless state that by the time they got to the 3rd floor, the goo person was starting to feel irritated with the constant movement. And since Gooigi didn’t get annoyed or angry often, that was saying something.

Luigi stopped at the base of the pseudo-mall plaza, and Gooigi stopped behind him, following his gaze. With some small annoyance, he realized the green-clad ghost hunter was once again humming, a low-pitched whine in the back of his throat.

Gooigi looked up, and realized what, exactly, his companion was scared of.

It was an overweight ghost, if any ghost could be considered overweight, with a mall security guard outfit and cap. A glowing button, as well as quite a few keys, were dangling from his belt. The ghost was floating back and forth in a patrol-like fashion up on the second level.

Luigi’s anxious humming must have been louder than Gooigi had thought, because the security guard started and looked around, then ran/floated off to his office.

Luigi relaxed slightly, tapping his index finger on the rim of Gooigi’s container. There had been some debate on the human’s part for whether or not to bring it, but eventually he had decided he might need it. While it was unwieldy, there might be some situations where it was necessary for Gooigi to be in the jar.

Gooigi was glad. He hadn’t yet figured out a way to communicate that he was afraid of water and fire. He hated melting, and coming from a goo-person whose emotions ranged from none to mild, that wasn’t a thing to say lightly.

Melting wasn’t a painful experience, per se. Nothing Gooigi felt was really painful. But it was unnerving. The feeling of coming apart, of the simplicity of existing being taken away from him, of the awareness of life fading away… it wasn’t fun.

At least Luigi had the jar. Melting was terrible, but the idea of falling apart and having no place to go to, to be able to reform… If he were seperated long enough, his consciousness would simply disappear. Stop existing.

Die.

The idea was so terrible that Gooigi caught himself starting to tap the side of his leg anxiously. Spirits above, a half-hour near Luigi and he was already mimicking his mannerisms. Soon enough he’d be humming as he walked.

Luigi glanced at him and made an indecipherable face, then turned to walk up the stairs and follow the security guard. Gooigi followed, his footsteps squishing slightly against the stairs as he went.

They reached the security office window, and Luigi peeked through the bent and broken shutters. As he turned away, he explained in a low voice, “Still in there. With the button. This is going to be difficult.”

Gooigi was wondering exactly how to ask why this would be difficult for a renowned ghost hunter, but Luigi walked away before he could decide which way would be best.

Around the corner, a large key floated a few inches above the ground. It had a diamond shaped handle. Gooigi noted that the lock to the office was a star, not a diamond.

Luigi, of course, was completely uninterested in both the key and the door. Instead, he was hijacking the vending machine at the end of the hall, making all the spare change inside fall out into his hand.

He did this with everything he could find. Everything. See a counter filled with items? Knock all the items off to get the gold underneath. See a hole in the wall for a rat’s nest? Chase out the rats and pull out the hoarded cash. See a trash can? Push it over, there are a couple hundred dollars in there.

Gooigi could cover all the ground they’d covered twice in the time Luigi had done it once. Honestly, if it were just him, Gooigi could already be at floor seven right now.

But maybe Gooigi was judging too harshly. Luigi was an earnest man. Odd, certainly, but earnest. He tried his best, and that was all that could really be expected of him.

Something about him still just… didn’t click with Gooigi. For being literally modelled after him, Gooigi and Luigi couldn’t be more different.

Luigi stopped leeching the vending machine of money, took one look at the key on the ground, then shook his head.

“Waste of time,” He muttered. He looked at Gooigi. “Ready for a ghost fight?”

Gooigi nodded, but was confused. That key didn’t fit with the star lock, so wouldn’t they have to go find the other key, and-

“Alright. No use delaying,” Luigi said.

And with that, he kicked down the door.

Chapter Text

The door fell out of its frame with surprising ease, and Luigi stumbled as the wood gave way underneath him. Really he’d just been trying to break the lock, not destroy the entire door.

Normally, he probably would have gone on that side quest to find the keys and unlock the door correctly. But he just- he was so angry with- with everything. He was so frustrated with the ghosts, and King Boo in particular, that the idea of wasting his time finding keys of all things made him so pissed off he wanted to throw hands at the next ghost he saw.

Or, you know, kick down a door. Either way.

Luigi’s silent goo companion looked startled at his sudden violent motion. It was the first emotion he’d seen from Gooigi, other than that silent judgement that almost radiated from him.

The security ghost inside also looked startled. Flat-out shocked probably would have been more accurate.

Luigi didn’t give him the chance to recover from his surprise, instead jumping forward with his flashlight to stun the ghost.

He was wearing sunglasses.

The ghost blinked once at the light, then looked at Luigi with the kind of self-important glare only the insecure and inferior people could master. “What’s your problem?!” He demanded. “Why would you break down my door like that?!”

“I- uh…” Luigi looked at the cracked glass on the floor. “I didn’t want to-a waste time with keys. Aren’t you a ghost? You don’t… really need doors, right?”

“That’s not the point!” The security guard barked. “The point is, that’s destruction of property! And illegal! I have half a mind to arrest you right now!”

“Uhm…” Luigi decided not to mention his amassed stolen funds. It would probably be a bad idea. “How about you… don’t do that? I’d really… rather not be-a arrested.”

“And I’d rather not be captured and put on display!” The guard said. “So tell your partner with the vacuum to stand down, and maybe we can negotiate!”

Luigi glanced at Gooigi, who was standing passively at his side and showing about zero interest in the situation at hand. Luigi still wasn’t sure he wasn’t about as intelligent as a robot or AI. Nothing the goo person had done so far showed any sign of intelligence or even a consciousness. He just… kind of was there.

Gooigi did have a Poltergust, but it wasn’t a real, working version. As far as Luigi knew, it was entirely for decoration. Sadly. If he had a Poltergust, this mansion would be out of ghosts in an instant. But all he had was a decorative goo man who didn’t really do anything.

But maybe… Maybe the lack of a Poltergust could be as effective as the real thing. If the ghosts were willing to negotiate when he didn’t have a weapon, then maybe he could survive. Maybe he could beat King Boo.

First things first, though. Surviving this encounter.

Luigi glanced at the ghost, then back at Gooigi, and motioned to the jar in his hands. Gooigi stared at him blankly for a moment, then a light seemed to go off in his head. The goo person disappeared, the jar filling up in Luigi’s hands with green ectoplasm.

Luigi turned back to the ghost. “Is-a that good?”

The ghost nodded. “Perfect! Now neither of us have an advantage, and so we can discuss your… not arrest!”

“A-alright. I’d like not being arrested,” Luigi said, tapping the rim of Gooigi’s container anxiously. “I just- I need that elevator button you have, and then I’ll leave. That’s all.”

“Hmm.” The security guard rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “We-ell… I’m supposed to be guarding it from a man in green with a vacuum. Supposedly he’s a threat to spirits. But you don’t look like much of a threat, do you?”

Luigi tried to squash his feeling of indignation. He could be a threat! He could! If he had a Poltergust, this place would be rid of ghosts in an instant!

Maybe that was the problem. Luigi needed a weapon to be a threat. Mario just was. Maybe that was why Mario was the hero, while he was the sidekick.

“I-uh… I guess not,” Luigi mumbled.

“What was that?” The ghost asked. “Speak up, man!” Then, he continued talking before Luigi could say anything. “Anyway, I assume the green man in that jar of yours is who Miss Gravely was talking about, so I can’t give him the elevator button. In fact, I’m supposed to fight him!”

Luigi took a small step back, hugging the jar closer to his chest. As… neutral as his feelings were about Gooigi, he didn’t want the goo person to be attacked by a ghost.

The security guard didn’t seem to notice. “But I’m sure there wouldn’t be a problem with you having the button! So long as you don’t give it to your companion there!”

Luigi nodded slowly, then yelped as the security guard tossed the golden button to him. He fumbled, then held it up. Not a trick. This was real.

“Th-thank you,” The plumber said with some surprise. The ghost was actually serious about not fighting him? Wow.

“Anytime!” The security guard said, beaming. “But don’t kick down any more doors, alright?”

Luigi nodded.

“Alright.”

-----------------------------------

Luigi was conflicted.

E. Gadd had taught him that the only way to deal with ghosts was to capture them. They were dangerous left alone. And Luigi knew that. He’d gone through two entire mansions’ worth of ghosts, and all but like two had attacked him without hesitation. He knew how dangerous they were.

But what if he was wrong? What if the ghosts were the ones who felt threatened? What if he was the aggressor, and not the other way around?

It was a difficult thing to think about.

Luigi sat in the elevator, rolling the button in his fingers. Gooigi was sitting next to him, watching him passively. How could the goo man just- just do nothing like that? Life was always a tornado of motion. Everyone was always moving, always busy, jumping from idea to thought to action and back at a second’s notice. Luigi himself couldn’t stand staying still for more than a few seconds at a time. Living was moving, in his opinion.

Gooigi’s motionless nothing was such a direct contrast to his normal bouncing, excitable state that Luigi felt like he was walking around with a robot in tow.

At least a robot would probably make more noise.

Luigi found himself wishing, for at least the hundredth time, that Mario wasn't trapped. Everything felt better when his brother was around. Even if the odds were hopeless, Mario could look up with a smile, and even Luigi- anxious, awkward Luigi- could start to feel more confident.

But Mario wasn’t around. He was in danger, along with Peach and the Toads and possibly E. Gadd as well, if Gooigi was any indication.

And it was up to Luigi to save them.

The thought was nearly paralyzing to him. Whenever he thought about it, he felt on the verge of a panic attack. He wasn’t a hero. He could barely follow Mario’s lead. If someone were to depend on
him, he’d surely let them down.

But now, Luigi found himself reacting to this idea differently. He stood up, causing Gooigi to lean back.

Luigi smiled at the goo person, as confident as he’d ever been in his life.

“C’mon, bud,” He said. “Let’s go save everyone.”

Chapter Text

Luigi shifted his weight from one foot to the other and sighed as the elevator button spun into place on the panel. Gooigi watched curiously while the man fiddled with the button of his overalls.

“Alright…” Luigi said, a nervous tilt to his voice. “Hero time over. Anxiety back on overdrive. Let’s-a do this before I lose my nerve.”

He pressed the button and turned around, then jumped as he noticed Gooigi. Was he really that forgetful? Gooigi had been here the entire time.

“Jeez, you need to make some noise or something,” Luigi yelped. “Let me know you’re there, at least! You’re worse than Polterpup is!”

Gooigi didn’t know what a Polterpup was, but nodded anyway. Luigi sighed again, picking up the goo person’s jar.

“This would be easier if I had a backpack…” He mumbled, tracing his index finger around the rim of the container.

Gooigi thought for a moment. Backpack… Then he brightened and pointed to the elevator panel.

Luigi looked at him strangely. “Gooigi? What are you doing?”

Gooigi pointed to the elevator panel, trying to express his thoughts. Words were so hard to form, with his goo body, but Luigi could understand, right? Hopefully?

“Gooigi, I… I don’t know what you want,” Luigi said. “Do you… want me to go down to a lower level?”

Gooigi nodded.

Luigi walked over to him. “Buddy, I’m-a not going back down to the basement. That would… the bellhop is still probably down there, and… we don’t have time to waste.”

Gooigi gestured at the elevator button. Words. Why couldn’t he say the words?

Well, there was something he could do, but he wasn’t quite… willing to go through that with Luigi. Good ghost catcher or not, Luigi from what Gooigi could tell wasn’t a person he wanted to… do that with.

But Gooigi could do this favor for the man. He deserved that much. If Luigi would be stubborn, Gooigi could as well. He pressed the elevator button, a sticky substance being left behind where his fingers touched the metal.

Luigi frowned, but didn’t stop him as the elevator lurched slightly and started down. “You… you’re serious, huh?” He said, an odd tone to his voice.

Gooigi wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so he just stayed still.

“And we’re back to talking to a wall!” Luigi said, throwing his hands up with frustration. He started pacing the length of the elevator. “How’s your day been? Do you need to see a chiropractor? You know, with all that load-bearing you’ve been doing!” He groaned and leaned back against the wall, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes.

The elevator stopped and opened, but Luigi gave no indication of wanting to go out into the basement. Gooigi took a step, then hesitated. Was this… When E. Gadd got frustrated, usually Gooigi could stay and help. The professor always appreciated it.

But Luigi wasn’t E. Gadd. He was nothing like E. Gadd. Oh, the professor had talked about him. And he had been right on all counts, really. Luigi was skilled. He was a good ghost hunter. But never, in all his discussions, had he mentioned Luigi’s infuriating personality.

But Gooigi could still do this for him, he supposed.

He stepped out of the elevator.

----------------------------------------

Gooigi opened the trunk of E. Gadd’s car with a bit of difficulty. He wasn’t used to moving heavy things, and the rust built up on the metal definitely didn’t help.

The hinges creaked slightly as the lid opened, and the Poltergust G-00 shined slightly in the light, reflecting into Gooigi’s eyes. It was almost a perfect copy of the one on his back- or maybe Gooigi’s was the copy?- down to the design and color scheme. The latest model, the most efficient ghost hunting device E. Gadd had ever created.

Gooigi reached past it and pulled out an extra, empty backpack he knew E. Gadd had packed for this trip. For storage, the professor had claimed. As if he didn’t have a literal portable lab prototype in the back of his car.

Gooigi wasn’t sure why Luigi didn’t want a Poltergust in a hotel filled with ghosts. Surely the man would want some sort of protection or defense. Even if he didn’t want to fight the ghosts, he could still have defense.

But no matter. If Luigi had chosen not to have a weapon, that was his choice. Gooigi wasn’t going to patronize the man by bringing him a weapon he’d already chosen not to have. He didn’t dislike Luigi that much.

He picked up the backpack, his own gooey Poltergust shrinking to become a match to the pack in his hands. He felt somewhat uncomfortable without the ghost catching device, but reasoned that if Luigi- the greatest ghost hunter ever, in E. Gadd’s opinion- felt that a Poltergust wasn’t necessary, then the practically indestructible Gooigi would be fine. It would be… a walk in the park, for him, if he were to stay next to Luigi.

With this newfound confidence of his companion in mind, Gooigi took the backpack and walked away.

Chapter Text

Luigi nearly had a heart attack as someone poked his shoulder. He jumped, flicking his flashlight on to stun whatever ghost or boo had come to kill him. He- the elevator was supposed to be a safe spot! He couldn’t be attacked by ghosts here! He Gooigi blinked and rubbed his eye with one hand, and Luigi lowered his flashlight.

“Oh, thank God,” He breathed. “You aren’t some vengeful ghost. I will never get used to jumpscares.”

Gooigi didn’t respond to that, but held something out to him. Luigi looked at it curiously, wondering what it was and why, exactly, the goo person had decided to go on this impromptu quest.

It was a backpack.

A nondescript, camouflage green backpack, empty and with no special features whatsoever. Completely ordinary in every way, and not something anyone would look twice at.

Except…

“You got this for me?” Luigi asked, looking at Gooigi with surprise.

The goo man shrugged, glancing away. Awkwardly or with embarrassment Luigi couldn’t tell.

Luigi took the backpack, and a sense of… shame rose within him. He’d been treating Gooigi like some sort of tool or item. It was awkward, sure, being with an ectoplasmic copy of yourself one of your friends created to replace you as a paranormal ghost catcher that you weren’t entirely sure could actually think and feel like a human being. But that didn’t excuse Luigi’s behavior toward him. He’d been basically pushing Gooigi away, and here the goo person had gone to get him a backpack to make his life easier.

“I…” Luigi trailed off. “Thanks. This… really means a lot to me.”

Gooigi shrugged as the plumber put on the backpack, putting the jar inside it. The goo person turned to the elevator panel and pressed the newest button, for floor 2. Let’s just get going, he seemed to be saying.

Luigi hesitated, then nodded to himself. He’d find a way to make it up to him later.

But for now, ghosts.

---------------------------------------

A restaurant. That was where they were.

Luigi, of course, was probably too busy looting the mansion for every bit of spare change it had to notice where they were, but Gooigi definitely did. A restaurant, filled with rats and ghosts. He couldn’t take a step without hitting one or the other.

Luigi grabbed a few coins off the ground that one of the rats had dropped. There were so many of the rodents in this hotel, it was insane. Maybe a glorified vacuum cleaner wasn’t the most ridiculous weapon to fight ghosts, not if this was the average state of a spectre haunting ground.

The man pocketed the change, then noticed Gooigi watching him and glanced away. Somehow, he was now more awkward around Gooigi, not less, since the backpack.

Humans. Nothing made sense with them.

Avoiding eye contact, Luigi pushed open the door to the main dining hall. Gooigi followed, passing him to look inside.

Five or six ghosts sat/floated around a couple of tables, loud and chaotic and thankfully too busy to notice the two unarmed ghost catchers.

Luigi, after pocketing a couple of paper bills, caught Gooigi’s eye and nodded to the ghosts. Be careful, he seemed to say. As if Gooigi had never hunted ghosts before.

Although, he’d definitely feel better if he had a Poltergust. Even being practically indestructible, not having a way to fight ghosts was unnerving to him.

I hope you appreciate the faith I’ve put in you, Gooigi thought with annoyance, following Luigi as the man crept forward, quietly as to not attract the attention of the nearby spectres. What reason could he possibly have to choose not to have a Poltergust? Adventure? A faulty sense of self-preservation?

The plumber made it about halfway across the room, sticking close to the food-filled counter, before the fight started. Luigi accidentally hit a wine bottle with his elbow, and froze. He stared at it as it slowly tipped over and fell to the ground.

Even Gooigi winced at the loud sound of the bottle shattering against the floor.

Luigi was in shock for all of three seconds before jumping into action. As the ghosts all turned to see what that was, he lunged forward, stunning three of the ghosts with his flashlight.

Gooigi stood back to watch, fascinated. He hadn’t actually seen Luigi fight ghosts before, Poltergust or no. All of their interactions had been peaceful- or running. He was curious to see if the man was actually as good as E. Gadd said.

Yes, actually. It turned out he was.

Luigi threw himself into the fight with a determination Gooigi hadn’t expected from the fidgety, anxious man. He jumped over the table, kicking one of the ghosts as the plates and cups clattered to the floor. Despite being incorporeal, the ghost fell back, crying out in pain.

Luigi picked up a handful of shards of pottery/glass and threw them at the still-stunned ghosts. The shards couldn’t hurt spectres physically, of course, but it did temporarily dissipate their forms, leaving them disoriented and confused. Not unlike how Gooigi felt after melting.

The ghosts reformed, confused, and as Luigi went to attack them, another ghost rammed their shoulder into him, causing him to fall to the floor.

Luigi grunted with pain, then jumped up. He stunned the ghosts with his flashlight once more. As the ghosts’ hearts showed, the man picked up one of the chairs and threw it at them. Gooigi ducked the splinters that were thrown as the ghosts were all hit with the heavy weight of the hardwood chair.

As the ghosts tried to recover, Luigi grabbed Gooigi by the wrist. Gooigi’s hand melted slightly at the touch, but the plumber paid no mind. He pulled Gooigi to the door at the end of the dining hall. It had been blocked off by the ghosts’ border, but as the ghosts were too distracted to keep up the wall, the magic dissipated and the border disappeared.

Luigi opened the door and pulled Gooigi inside.

Chapter Text

Luigi pulled Gooigi into the room at the end of the dining hall, shutting the door quickly behind him. Even if this was a dead end, it was the only place he could see to go into. He couldn’t backtrack, not if he wanted to get to the next floor.

It was dark, in whichever room they were in. Dark, hot, and hard to breathe in. Smokey, Luigi realized. The room was filled with smoke.

He covered his mouth and nose with the front of his shirt, trying to filter out some oxygen to, you know, breathe. Reaching behind him, he tried to find the doorknob. He’d need
some sort of mask or something to be able to breathe in here.

Or, you know, a jacked-up vacuum might be nice.

The door was blocked by a ghost’s trap-Luigi-and-make-him-fight border.

Luigi’s eyes widened. He couldn’t fight a ghost! Not when he could barely get enough oxygen to stay standing! This room, innocent enough, had turned out to be a death trap.
The most effective one King Boo had ever thought up.

Too bad he’ll get a corpse for a painting. Being dead will really ruin my aesthetic.

The sarcastic thought did practically nothing to help Luigi’s rising panic. He looked at Gooigi, who just stared back at him curiously. The green goo person, unsurprisingly, was unaffected by the smoke. He probably didn’t need to breathe.

Luigi swayed on his feet slightly, feeling lightheaded. His head hurt and his shoulder hurt where he’d fallen and he just wanted to sleep and forget all of his problems. He wanted to see Mario and for his brother to hug him and say “it’ll be alright” like he did whenever Luigi had a nightmare. He wanted to go home and read next to the fireplace with hot cocoa and buried under like twelve blankets, in a world where King Boo wasn’t constantly trying to capture him and his family in paintings for eternity, was that too much to ask?!

Luigi’s eyes started drooping before he jumped up, shaking his head. If he fell asleep now, he’d probably die from smoke inhalation. He coughed, ineffectually trying to rid his lungs of smoke.

Gooigi poked his shoulder (it seemed to be a favorite action for the goo person) and held out… something. Luigi couldn’t tell, not with the smoke stinging his eyes.

One hand still covering his mouth and nose, Luigi reached out with the other to hold whatever it was. He nearly dropped it due to the unexpected weight of the object. It was a lot heavier than he’d expected Gooigi to be able to hold. He’d thought the ectoplasm hands would drop heavier objects.

Gooigi pointed at an orange amorphous blob that looked angry. A ghost!

Instinctively, Luigi held the heavy something in his hands, quickly tossing his flashlight to Gooigi. Hopefully his companion would understand. Gooigi could stun the ghost, Luigi could take them out.

Gooigi fumbled with the flashlight, but managed to stun the ghost before it- they?- could attack them.

Luigi managed a solid hit on the ghost- whatever this object was, he silently thanked Gooigi for finding it.

Working more or less as a team, Luigi and Gooigi made short work of the ghost. Or, at least, they managed to injure it enough that the magic barrier disappeared, and the most likely chef ghost decided to cut its losses and leave them alone.

Luigi grinned at his companion. “Good- *cough*- good job, buddy.”

And with that, the lack of oxygen caught up to his head, and he fell to the floor.

------------------------------------

Luigi woke up in the elevator. And in pain.

He groaned, sitting up and rubbing his temples. His left shoulder hurt as if someone had dislocated it, and for some reason his leg throbbed. But other than that and a massive headache, he seemed to be fine. Nothing worse than being practically seared in Bowser’s flames or falling down a nearly bottomless cliff and having to climb back out.

But airships and arson, did his head hurt.

He groaned again and flopped back on the ground. Covering his eyes with his right arm, he tried to block out all of the stimuli overwhelming his senses. With his headache, all of his nerves felt hypersonic. Even the dim lights of the elevator felt blinding.

Someone poked him. Gooigi, without a doubt. For some reason, the goo person just absolutely loved that action.

Someone else cackled, as if taking great pleasure in seeing Luigi laying on the floor as his senses were being overwhelmed.

Ah.

“No,” Luigi said, not moving from his position. He didn’t look at the Boo, but he knew it was there all the same.

“Aw, c’mon! Aren’t you glad to see me?” Booigi chittered in the infuriating way of speaking all ghosts had.

“Not particularly. Aren’t you here to beat me unconscious and drag my body back to King Boo for him to use me as wall decor?”

“Not unless you make me,” Booigi said. “Wouldn't you rather come quietly and painlessly? Our King really wants to see you.”

“I’m getting there.” Luigi didn’t gesture to the elevator panel, but could tell somehow that Booigi’s gaze was drawn to it anyway. “Slowly. At this rate, I’ll be there by next Monday. Tell your King I’ll see him then.”

Booigi laughed, and for the first time since he’d woken up in his hotel, Luigi found himself fighting a smile.

He and the Boo weren’t friends, not by any means. Humans and ghosts were enemies, strictly speaking. And it’s not like Luigi knew Booigi better than any other ghost. But Booigi and Luigi had gotten to the point where they could trade insults without spite. Somehow.

Luigi had no opinion about the Boo, negative or positive. He was an enemy, albeit one with a sharp tongue and a sense of humor. But Booigi… he loved chaos, like all Boos. He practically thrived on it. And Luigi, with a Poltergust, fear, and a desire to do the afterlife equivalent of killing to the King of Ghosts, represented chaos at its finest in the Boos’ opinion. Luigi suspected all Boos would be similarly drawn to him if King Boo’s wrath wasn’t a threat hanging over them. Booigi was simply the one Boo willing to break the norms and actually approach the plumber.

Luigi shifted into an infinitesimally less painful position, trying to find a way to lay down that didn’t make one of his wounds feel like it was on fire. Maybe he really was dead, and this was all just some sort of fever dream? Maybe he was in a painting and had been since they’d gotten here, and this was just a way for him to cope?

Nah. Being dead didn’t hurt this much.

The plumber realized with a start that Booigi was talking.

“-I’m interested in seeing how you survive without your vacuum,” the not-ghost was saying. “You’ve been lucky this far, but you certainly won’t be able to face our king like you are!”

“Watch me,” Luigi snapped, instinctively delivering the same challenge he had with that first Boo. “I’ll take him down with a chair and a flashlight!”

Booigi cackled. “I’m looking forward to it!”

And with that, the Boo disappeared. Luigi sat up with a groan as the pain rebounded on him once again. He would be fine, he knew. He’d had worse.

But still. That didn’t mean he wasn’t suffering.

Gooigi was looking at him with an almost… bewildered expression. Confused, certainly. About Booigi?

“Jealous?” Luigi asked teasingly as he stood up. “Hate to tell you, buddy, but Booigi’s been around longer than you have.”

He was feeling… not good, exactly. He couldn’t really feel good while Mario and Peach and the Toads were all in danger. But better. More determined. The tightness in his chest loosened fractionally.

Nothing had really happened. He was still in a hopeless situation. He was still in a haunted hotel with nothing more than a flashlight and a semi-judgemental goo blob. But somehow, it felt a little easier to smile, to laugh. Not easy, but easier.

And laugh was exactly what Luigi did when he caught a glimpse of Gooigi’s expression of pure confusion.

Chapter Text

Gooigi froze in mid step, cocking his head to the side. What was that?

The strange… something… had been bothering him since they’d gotten on this floor.

Well, no. Not bothering him, exactly. That wasn’t the right word, and if Gooigi prided himself on anything, it was his precision of speech. He always tried to find the right words and phrases for things. Unlike Luigi, who would throw out words left and right, so quickly they became just a jumbled mess of syllables. E. Gadd was the same. Perhaps their solid mouths and tongues helped them speak so messily and without thinking.

So no. He wasn’t bothered by this something. Not like he was with Luigi at the moment. Bothered implied something was wrong, and this… it wasn’t really wrong, but strange. Alien. Foreign. It… was different, in a way that made Gooigi feel… feel… He didn’t even know.

The thing reminded him of Luigi, oddly enough. Something the man did that usually ticked him off. But this… it didn’t annoy him. Almost the opposite.

Gooigi probably would have stood there, head cocked and leg hovering slightly above the ground, trying to figure out what that something was, until someone had had to shake him out of it. But instead, he realized that Luigi had continued walking, and
jumped to catch up with the man. Call it childish, but Gooigi really didn’t want to be alone.

Plus, according to E. Gadd, the safest place in a haunted mansion (or hotel, whatever) was next to Luigi.

They walked through the parlor/elevator entryway, then made their way to a… place. Gooigi wasn’t sure what it was. It had a cart full of… popcorn? Was that the word? And other assorted snacks. Before he could recognize where they were, using the counter
filled with food as a reference, Luigi knocked off all of the snacks in one swooping motion, pocketing all the cash underneath. Gooigi shot him a glare, then paused again. That something… it almost made it hard to be annoyed. Somehow.

Gooigi shook his head, trying to decipher what that was. How could he figure it out, though, if he couldn’t think of a reference to it? It reminded him of Luigi, but… how? He hadn’t been around the plumber long enough to really get to know him, so there couldn’t be that many things Gooigi was reminded of.

So what was it?

In front of him, Luigi tripped, stumbling over the lifted edge of a carpet. Gooigi noticed a ghost shaking the carpet to make it flutter like that, but got a bit distracted.

Instead of falling like Gooigi would have expected, seeing the natural clumsiness the goo man had observed, Luigi jumped. He started to fall, but caught himself with his hands. Then, rather than just stand up, he expertly flipped upright, springing forward off his hands to flip forward. And as if to show off, the man landed on top of the ghost in a classic Mario Brothers™ attack.

The ghost, surprised and utterly defeated, faded away without another sound.

Gooigi stared at Luigi with absolute shock. That- what the actual- how?!

Luigi didn’t notice. He winced and rolled his left shoulder, as if it hurt him. “Yeah… let’s-a not do that again. Ouch.”

He caught Gooigi’s stare and managed to give a strained smile. “You should see Mario and I do team attacks sometime,” was all he said before turning to the double doors at the end of the hallway.

Gooigi thought quietly to himself that he should start taking a count of how many times Luigi mentioned this Mario person. A lot, certainly.

Inside the doors, it was… a theatre. A stage, some elevated chairs, and a lot of seats for a crowd to watch. A ghost was sitting/floating in front of a large… what was the word? A large…

Piano. Instrument.

Gooigi blinked. He realized what he’d been feeling- hearing- all along. Music.

It was an elegant sound, fast and slow and loud and quiet all at the same time. It filled Gooigi’s head with the sound, richer and fuller than what he’d been reminded of before- Luigi’s humming.
Luigi started to walk up the steps to the stage, then paused and turned back to Gooigi. The man gestured to his backpack and mouthed the word recall.

Gooigi didn’t really want to. He wanted to stay here and listen to the music. But reluctantly he felt his form separate and reform inside the container. Everything felt more muted and dull, but at the same time clearer to him. And he could still hear the piano, this time more through vibrations than actually sound.

He could hear something else, too. A beat thrumming, accidentally perfectly in time with the music. The vibration was almost more powerful than the symphony that was playing. It somehow felt more real. More solid. A heartbeat, consistent and steady.

The piano was beautiful.

But Gooigi decided that maybe just being alive was more beautiful.

And maybe, just maybe, Luigi wasn’t quite as bad as he’d thought at first.

--------------------------------------

Luigi’s legs felt shaky as he walked up the steps of the stage. He was never going to get used to this. To being the one who had to approach the ghosts. To initiating the conversation- and most likely the fight. To have to rely on nothing but his own confidence and skill.

The musician didn’t look at him, but clearly could tell Luigi was there. The ghost missed a note and sighed with barely suppressed frustration. Luigi could tell that this situation could turn very dangerous very quickly.

Instead of attacking, however, the ghost simply adjusted the music scores in front of him and started over.

“So you’re the one Miss Gravely wants captured,” The musician said, making Luigi jump. “The famed ghost hunter Luigi.”

“Uhm… y-yeah. That’s-a me,” Luigi said nervously. “Are you… going to kill me?”

“Are you going to use your Poltergust to trap me and put me on display?” The musician retorted.

Fair point, Luigi admitted.

“I would,” The plumber found himself saying. What was he doing?! Why would he admit that to a ghost who could kill him in less than a minute?! “I-if I had a Poltergust. I would i-in a heartbeat.”

“Hmm.” Rather than get angry, the ghost seemed… amused? “Well, you’re honest, I’ll give you that much. It’s not often I meet a mortal, and a genuine one at that. You’re an odd specimen, Luigi.”

“Thanks…?” Luigi said uncertainly. Was that supposed to be a compliment? “I guess?”

“You’re welcome,” The ghost said. “I guess.”

“Mmm.” Luigi made a sound that wasn’t really agreeing or disagreeing.

There was a slightly awkward silence, and Luigi wondered exactly how best to continue. He needed the elevator button this ghost was sure to have, but he didn’t want to fight. Plus, the Toad in the painting… he had no idea how to help him. If he had a dark light, then maybe, but he didn’t. What was he supposed to do?

The ghost seemed to read his mind. “You want this painting, I’m assuming. Sadly, you seem like a person I’d actually get along with at times. Nothing like Miss Gravely said you’d be.”

“That’s… a b-bad thing?” Luigi asked with slight confusion.

“Well, since I’m guessing you don’t want me to kill you, yes.” The ghost played a chord, but it sounded off, and he sighed with frustration. “Do you know how hard it is to make music?”

“Uhm…” This conversation took a strange turn, Luigi thought. “No…?”

“Of course not. Everyone enjoys music, but no one stops to think exactly how difficult it is.” The musician played a single note, holding it out. “It takes such a skill, to be able to balance tempo and harmony and melody and articulation. To be able to make a piece that’s dynamic and invigorating, and rejuvenating and heartwarming. It’s really no walk in the park, and yet no one notices exactly how hard one must work to become a master.”

Luigi remained silent.

The musician trailed a finger gently over the music scores. “And it’s amazing as well. Even if I’m not appreciated as much as I deserve to be, the journey makes it worth it a hundred times over. The feeling of even the smallest praise, of seeing that I made someone smile. It’s worth everything I’ve suffered and more.”

“I… I think I understand,” Luigi said. And he did. He really did understand.

The musician nodded and tossed something over his shoulder. It was a bad throw, and Luigi fumbled, but he caught it and held it up. It was the elevator button for floor six.

“You can’t have the painting,” The musician said. “Miss Gravely would have my head if I just let you have it! But you, Luigi, are an artist. Adventuring is your composing, and I would rather die once more than be the one to have killed your spirit.”

“I…” Luigi swallowed, then nodded. “Thank you.”

The musician just waved a hand, then started playing once more.

The sound of the music followed Luigi until he reached the elevator.

Chapter Text

Luigi stepped out of the elevator and into a place that looked straight out of a history book.

Stone walls, tapestries, suits of armor, everything. It looked like someone had built a castle here.

For all King Boo’s faults, it’s pretty impressive that he can make a hotel filled with so much variety, Luigi thought. Every floor could practically fit one of the previous mansions inside it. The plumber would be lying if he said he wasn’t impressed.

Gooigi walked out behind him, looking around curiously. He’d gotten a lot more expressive lately- or maybe Luigi had just gotten better at reading his expressions. Either way Luigi could guess what he was feeling about three out of five times. Ish.

They were in a medieval-like hallway with all of the things Luigi had previously mentioned, plus even more objects he couldn’t describe. And, also, there were rats and spiders and other pests.

A lot of other pests.

Luigi shook yet another spider off his boot, kicking it and watching it scurry away as they approached.

The two ghost catchers made it to a large, open auditorium, almost like a colosseum. Luigi had never paid enough attention to history class to remember which empire did fights like that.

There were rows of benches leading downward, enough for at least one or two hundred people to sit. A… king’s booth? Was that it? Was there in the center, above everyone else’s seats and overlooking the arena.

Luigi leaned over the parapet, studying the old-timey architecture with fascination. He was still amazed that the ghosts could create all this, despite his feelings toward spectres and undead folk in general. Plus, history in itself was a fascinating subject, even if Luigi had troubles focusing in school.

Luigi nearly died of shock when a loud trumpet blast blared through the area. He scrambled back, away from the edge, with a yelp.

Another trumpet blast joined the first, and curiously, Luigi stepped back up to the edge. Two ghosts were, well, playing trumpets, one long note that demanded attention from its listeners. It was saying, “here I am! Notice me!”

The cause for the fanfare quickly became clear, as a ghost floated out into the king’s box.

It was a king, with a squarish beard and matching red hair. A crown sat on his head, and he was wearing a… kilt? Wasn’t that from Ireland or something?

An Irish empire? Luigi thought. Was that a thing in like, 12000 B.C?

Whatever country it was from, Luigi wasn’t particularly interested. All he wanted was an elevator button, which- based on past experience, this ghost was sure to have.

Luigi looked to his goo companion and tipped his head to the gate on their right. It seemed like a shortcut, whereas the bulky wooden door to their left looked like a very long, roundabout route filled with puzzles and traps and what have ye to prove his worth to the king above and yawn we’ve been through this about twenty times now. The plumber was really not interested in a quest like that.

He was doubly uninterested in being a gladi-whatnot to some ancient Swedish pharoah, but it looked like he had no choice on that one. At least this time he had a weapon other than a chair and a flashlight.

A frying pan was not in the top ten list of Luigi’s favorite weapons. In fact, it was probably somewhere in the lower twenties. Right now, the Poltergust would definitely be number one.

But, this skillet that Gooigi had stolen would definitely function. It was heavy, but not as heavy as a Poltergust, which meant Luigi could still jump and climb perfectly well. It barely hindered movement more than Luigi’s backpack. Plus, a weapon such as this- heavy and able to stun ghosts- would work in a predominantly, well, ghost environment.

The trumpets rang out again, and Luigi rolled his eyes. They sure wanted him to notice them. What, did they think he was just going to leave and hot wire the elevator?

Actually, that wasn’t a bad idea. Maybe Luigi would keep that as a Plan B if ghost fighting didn’t work out.

Luigi glanced at Gooigi and made a follow me gesture, and leaped over the right hand gate, to directly challenge the whatever country emperor-king thing.

The trumpet faltered a moment, as if the ghosts couldn’t believe he’d just broken such a big rule of you have to go where the ghosts tell you or else.

Well, Luigi was sick of following directions. Time to see where the or else went.

He jumped down onto the sandy colosseum floor.

And winced as the king yelled in a booming voice, “You dare step foot onto my arena?”

“I really had no choice now, did I?” Luigi muttered under his breath. He hated it when the ghosts gave him one option, then hot all huffy and indignant when he took said option. It was dumb and frankly showed a lot about the personalities of said ghosts.

The king said something else, but Luigi completely missed it. Probably something self important and kingly, he supposed.

But, as a consequence for not caring enough to listen to the king, Luigi missed the ghost’s challenge. And his subsequent terms of fighting. And other probably important bits of information.

Such as the fact that this fight was going to be to the death.

I really need to pay more attention when people are talking.

Chapter Text

Gooigi wasn’t scared of many things.

Things could be scary, sure. Things could be unnerving, or horrifying, or anxiety producing. Of course they could. Gooigi wasn’t saying they couldn’t be.

But to be actually scared? To feel such terror that it overrode everything else? That all you wanted to do was run, but it was so paralyzing you couldn’t even move? That your emotions just shut down completely afterwards so you didn’t have to feel the after effects?

Gooigi had felt that way a total of one time. And he never wanted to feel that way again.

Luigi, though… He felt emotions so wildly. So out of control that even mild shock felt like a bucket of ice water splashed onto him. Gooigi didn't need to imagine what it was like to know living like that would be exhausting. How did Luigi even have enough room inside him to feel all of that?

Gooigi could almost feel Luigi’s spike of fear as if it were his own, as the ghost-king came down to fight, toting a sword, shield, and suit of armor.

Luigi yelped and dived out of the way, hitting the floor to avoid the king’s charge.

Gooigi decided not to tell E. Gadd how much new vocabulary he’d learned from listening to Luigi. For such a nervous guy, the man knew enough curses to give a sailor a run for their money.

The ghost king continued his strategy of charging at Luigi. The plumber dodged every one, some so narrowly even Gooigi winced.

But this strategy was slowly turning to the king’s favor. Because ghosts tire very, very slowly compared to mortals.

So guess who was getting tired?

“Gooigi!”

Gooigi looked over at Luigi just in time to see the man throw his flashlight at him. The goo person caught it, the ectoplasm on his hands rippling slightly at the impact. He understood what Luigi was trying to say. This would be like that fight with the chef.

Nice to see he’s including me more, Gooigi thought. Seriously, the way Luigi acted, Gooigi had never been near a ghost in his life. At least E. Gadd had some faith in him.

All thoughts aside (Which was a hilarious statement, coming from a person who did basically nothing but think), Gooigi ran forward to help Luigi.

The king noticed him almost immediately, and turned away from Luigi to look at him. Gooigi charged the flashlight to stun the ghost.

The king raised his shield to block the light, then easily swung his sword to slice Gooigi’s body in half.

Gooigi could withstand a lot of things. An attack like this wasn’t one.

He dissolved and appeared back in his container.

---------------------------------

As the ghost king turned back to Luigi, the plumber prepared to dive for the flashlight Gooigi had dropped. The goo person had failed to stun the king, but maybe if he could get the ghost to drop his shield, then… He stopped.

Confused, Luigi watched the ghost drop his sword and shield, then step out of the armor, grinning like a madman.

“That was fun!” The king said. He had an accent Luigi couldn't quite place. “Good show, man, good show!”

“Wh- excuse me?” Luigi asked, severely confused. “What are you doing? Aren’t we fighting?”

“Well, you lost, didn’t you?” The ghost said as if it were obvious. “From what I see, your companion is vanquished. So, we’re done here. Lovely fight you put up there; if not for you reminding me of that twin of yours you might have even won. It’s been, oh, two thousand years or so since I’ve seen such talent.”

“Two thousand- is this some sort of game to you?” Luigi asked. The ghost was acting like they’d finished some sort of chess game or something.

“Of course! Gladiator matches are the most entertaining type of game.” The king’s eyes shone with excitement, and Luigi suddenly had doubts about the doubts that ghosts were dangerous. Then the ghost continued. “Plus there’s no longer any real risk in them here. It almost makes it boring.” He gave a small huff of disappointment.

“No real- but-”

“Yes, no risk. I did tell you that if I killed one of you the other could leave, didn’t I?” The king said, in the tone of someone saying one plus one makes two. “So therefore, one of you can still leave and complete your quest, whatever that is. No real risk to your objective, yes?”

“To my stress levels there’s risk,” Luigi muttered. Then he continued. “I suppose that’s true.”

That was evidently what the king wanted to hear, as he beamed and said, “Glad to see you’re catching up, lad! Here, I’ll give this to you in return for such a talented performance!”

For the something-hundredth time, Luigi was surprised to see an elevator button being given to him freely.

“You- uh.” Luigi caught it, then shrugged to himself. If ghosts wanted to help him, he wasn’t going to complain.

“Lady Gravely gave that to me,” The king explained. “She said that a human in green with a vacuum would come to take it, and that I am to defend it valiantly!” He paused, then added, “I… don’t actually know what a vacuum is. A fearsome weapon, fit for a warrior, I’m sure!”

Luigi stifled a laugh.

“Anyway, I’m sure once a human comes in here to take this, I’ll defeat them!” The king said. “But you can have this for now. To protect it from the other human.”

This time Luigi couldn’t stop himself from snorting. For a two thousand year old ghost, this king was a little dense.

“Thanks, buddy,” Luigi said to the king, grinning. “I’ll… uh… protect it with my life and such.”

The king beamed at him. “Excellent! Farewell, my friend!”

And with that, the ghost disappeared with a puff of smoke.

Luigi chuckled and turned to leave.

Chapter Text

It was only after they got to the elevator that Gooigi appeared. From what snatches of conversation he’d caught, the king ghost had stopped fighting because he’d lost his form, so he’d thought it prudent to remain where he was.

For some reason, however, when he solidified in front of the elevator, Luigi showed no sign of putting in the golden button and progressing. Instead, the man slumped down, sitting against the back wall and rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands.

Gooigi was unsure of the reason behind this sudden mood swing. Shouldn’t the man be happy he was now one floor closer to saving Mario and them?

Humans. When did they ever make sense?

The goo person, usually, would simply wait for Luigi to recover his wits and go onward. It was no place of Gooigi’s to pretend he could help the man; and, speaking quite honestly, human emotion simply baffled him. Most likely, he’d just mess it up more than he would help.

But Gooigi’s ambivalence toward Luigi was fading- hopefully into something like companionship rather than neutrality.

Crouching down next to Luigi, the goo person got his attention. Gooigi slowly and clearly signed out the words ‘Are you okay?’

It took a moment to register, but after a few seconds, a light went off in Luigi’s head.

“You know sign language?!” The man yelped in surprise.

Gooigi nodded. ‘Yes. Clearly.’

“And you-” Luigi stopped. The knowledge seemed to snap the man out of whatever mood he’d been in before, and he stood up and started pacing.

‘I’m an ectoplasmic creation E. Gadd made that has less of a physical body than you and can’t speak without extreme difficulty. No, obviously the professor never thought to teach me a way of communication other than nodding or shaking my head.’

Gooigi wasn’t sure how much of that Luigi actually caught, and how much of it was just waving to the air. He didn’t particularly care, either. It felt… not really good, but it was definitely a feeling, to be able to be as sarcastic and surly as Luigi was with him. Even though Gooigi would normally never be sarcastic to anyone.

Oh, being around Luigi had absolutely ruined him.

“Why didn't you tell me you could talk?” Luigi asked with frustration. “We could- you know how easy this could be, if I’d known you could communicate?! You-” He groaned.

‘I…’ Gooigi stopped for a second. Why hadn’t he told Luigi about his sign language?

‘It’s hard,’ He said finally. ‘To talk. And use words. It’s easier just to stay quiet and watch than form thoughts into words.’ He hesitated, then added, ‘It’s getting easier. When I’m with you. I think.’

“Oh, I’m so honored,” Luigi said. Something about the tone of voice made Gooigi think he was actually nothing of the sort. “Of course, if you do think so highly of me, maybe you can show it by being even marginally useful!”

‘What?’

“You don’t do anything!” Luigi snapped angrily. In a fit of anger, he pulled off his hat and threw it across the elevator. It hit the wall and fell to the floor. “You just- follow me around without giving any help! You just expect me to do everything, and- and be player one! Well, I’m not! I’m not and I’ll never be, and- you don’t help at all! You just sit there and judge me and my methods!”

The elevator lurched to a stop at floor 7, and Luigi walked out.

“Don’t bother following,” He growled at Gooigi. “It’s not like you’re going to do anything but watch anyway.”

Gooigi watched with some flicker of hurt as Luigi walked out. This… this was exactly why he’d been so slow to accept the man. He was so erratic and could never just stick to one thing. Couldn’t he just decide whether or not to stay? Did he have to drag Gooigi along, bringing his hopes up and down like it was a roller coaster?

This was why Gooigi had been relieved to hear he’d died.

Gooigi blinked. Wait, no. He was mixing Luigi up with… with someone else.

He crouched down, shaking his head. Nope. Not the time to think about that.

He picked up Luigi’s hat, tracing the white L with a small frown. He had not felt relieved to hear of his friend’s death. No one would.

He had…

What had he felt? Numb. Like his emotions had just shut off completely. So he wouldn’t have to feel anything. He just was… detached from everything.

But now, with Luigi around, he was feeling more and more like the person he’d been. Before the numbness.

Whether or not this was a good thing remained to be determined.

But still. If Gooigi knew anything about humans, it was that when they said they needed to be alone it meant they actually needed someone there to help.

And if Gooigi had learned anything from E. Gadd, it was that the best (and only) place to be in a haunted mansion was next to Luigi.

Especially when Luigi was stubborn, pissed off, ready to throw hands, and without a Poltergust. Gooigi had figured out that part himself.

Gooigi stood up, still holding the plumber’s hat, and walked out of the elevator to find Luigi.

Chapter Text

The hallway was covered in foliage. As Gooigi stepped out of the elevator, he blinked, wondering how he had ended up in a jungle in the middle of a hotel filled with ghosts.

He walked through the extremely green hallway, the grass at its shortest brushing up to his shins. It took a bit of effort to move through the grass; the blades kept getting stuck inside his legs. But he tried to hurry anyway. Luigi could be doing literally anything right now, and without Gooigi there to help, then who knew what would happen?

“You don’t do anything! You just- follow me around without giving any help!”

Gooigi stopped short, remembering suddenly what Luigi had said to him. Even if he did go, would the man even want him around? Or would he just yell at him again? Luigi was so difficult to understand, and what if Gooigi got it so wrong that the man just… didn’t come back?

What if they had reached that point already?

‘I love you, Gooigi. I really do. I just… I can’t do this. Not anymore.’

Gooigi shook his head firmly. No. he was not going to get lost in memories right now. Not when there was so much happening in the present moment.

“Ahem.”

The goo person jumped, then looked up. The ghost from earlier (Booigi?) was there in front of him, sitting on the air as if it were a chair.

“Yeah, you, uh… Gooigi, wasn’t it? Such an original name. You make… three of us now? Probably more,” Booigi said. “But who’s counting, really?”

‘What are you doing here?’ Gooigi asked. He looked down and realised that his hands were shaking.

“What are you doing here?” The ghost mimicked. “Last I checked, this was my haunting ground. Ours. Whatever. Not yours. I can do whatever I want.”

‘And King Boo just lets you chat with us freely?’ Gooigi asked.

“Sure. Yeah. Definitely.” Booigi laid down, still pretending the air was a perfectly solid material to put nonexistent weight on. “He doesn’t care at all, buddy, truth to be told. He’s just super busy right now, and doesn’t want any of us running around and distracting him. So I came here. To annoy you.”

Gooigi looked at him flatly.

“Well, not you, you,” The Boo said. “You and Luigi, you. I was gonna wait ‘til you had the next elevator button and catch both of you together. But you two had a fight.”

Gooigi hesitated, then glanced away, nodding.

“Yeah, I heard the whole thing. Plumber boy was really pissed off. Still is,” Booigi added. “The man can get angry for such a patient guy. Guess that’s how it is, though. The most patient and nice people are the most terrifying when they finally snap.”

‘I just… I don’t know what I did to make him so mad,’ Gooigi admitted.

“You?” Booigi snorted. “You didn’t do anything, buddy. Luigi is a player two.”

Gooigi tilted his head. The term was unfamiliar to him.

“A follower,” Booigi elaborated. “Playing the second fiddle, so to speak. He plays harmony to someone else’s melody, and when asked to improvise, he gets really stressed.”

Gooigi nodded, digesting the information. It didn’t quite match up to what he’d seen of Luigi, but he supposed it might be true.

“Luigi… is the type of person who lashes out at people close to him when he’s forced to be player one,” Booigi said. “He’s not a leader, and it clearly shows.”

Gooigi nodded again, this time slightly bitterly. That he knew was true.

The ghost studied him for a moment, then his expression softened.

“But,” Booigi added gently, “he’s the type of person who, in a room filled with enemies who are trying to kill him, will learn each of their names and remember each and every one, even if to him they all look identical. Because he cares so, so much about everything he does.”

Gooigi had no answer to that, so he just… didn’t. If it had been Luigi there, the man would have probably gotten annoyed at his unresponsiveness, but Booigi just gave him a smile.

“You should go talk to him,” he said. “Whether or not he thinks so, he cares about you.”

‘No offense or anything, but what do you care?’ Gooigi asked. ‘You’re a ghost. It’s basically in your job description to hate us.’

“Well, yeah, but where in the job description does it say I have to care?” Booigi winked at him and disappeared.

Leaving Gooigi alone and more confused than ever.

If that was possible at this point.