For CJWrites, who probably wasn't expecting her request to become this twisted. I own nothing, which includes the whole Maple Story related stuff and the title, which comes from a song.

Original Request: Everyone is scared that Evan is replacing Freud (Which he you know... kinda is). At the end Freud appears in Evan's dreams to reassure him.

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cyber thunder cider

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"You're dead."

The moment those words slipped out of his mouth, Evan winced. While it was the truth, the statement could have also been extremely insulting if the supposed-to-be-dead person in front of him felt offended by it. "N-not that I'm against the idea of you being alive!" he said hastily. "It's just that . . . you're supposed to be dead."

His mother would have had his hide for this. Already Evan could imagine the woman furiously waving a spatula in the air, yelling about how she had raised him better than that and was he her son or a pig, because her son was supposed to be a human and not an animal. Evan had memorized the whole speech in the thirteen years he'd grown up listening to it.

The man in front of him, a man who could have, for appearance's sake, been his older brother, laughed softly. "Kid, I am dead," he admitted casually, like he was commenting on the weather.

While Evan thought this guy who he had heard a boatload of things about and yet had never met was really cool and understanding, it still raised the question on how this whole thing was possible. "You're dead," he repeated. "That's great. I-I mean not great, because your death was really sad and tragic and deeply regrettable and all that, but I mean it's great that I'm not going crazy!" he shut up as soon as he realized half the things he said counted under what Aran's spirit friend Maha called 'verbal vomit'. "Sorry," he said meekly.

Freud, one of the Heroes of the Maple World and his predecessor whose legacy he felt like he could never live up to, gave a soft smile. "Don't be," the older man said. "If I was in your situation right now, I'd be bursting with questions, too."

A moment of silence passed before the dead hero spoke again. "Aren't you going to ask me questions?"

"Huh? Oh, right. Umm," Evan racked his brain. "How are you . . . ." he gestured at the older man, at a loss for words. "Umm . . . . Are you . . . ."

Luckily, seeing the 'help' look Evan was sending him, Freud came to his rescue. "I'm still dead, by the way," he said in his casual manner. It was almost like the deceased dragon master was dissing death, the natural force that everyone feared. "But as for how you can see me . . . Well, have you ever considered the possibility that this is all a dream and that I'm nothing but a figment of your imagination?"

Huh? "Huh?"

"If it makes you feel better – which I think it will – then you may choose to think me as a figment of your imagination. Certainly possible, after consuming the punch spiked with hallucination potions by Phantom. It was meant for Luminous, which is why you may be feeling the influence particularly strongly after taking a double dose."

Evan thought hard. So what he was trying to say to him, other than the whole Phantom-fed-me-something-weird-by-accident-again was that . . . "You're a dream?"

Freud raised one eyebrow, something Evan couldn't do. Like everything else. Dang. "Have you looked around?"

Now that he thought about it, no, he hadn't.

In his defense, his attention had been a bit diverted by the fact that there was a dead hero from the legends in front of him, but now that he looked around at his surroundings he saw that the two of them were standing in the middle of a purple wheat field.

A purple wheat field. Of all the things he could have dreamed about. "Where am I?"

"In the middle of a purple wheat field."

"Okay," that was obvious enough. "I see that, but where?"

Freud shrugged. "How should I know?"

Oh, come on. Evan changed topics. "Where's Mir? Shouldn't he be here with me, because of the Soul Pact thing and all?"

"Soul Pact thing?"

Evan blushed – the man who had created the whole thing was right in front of him and he had probably sounded extremely disrespectful and ignorant – and began to apologize when Freud waved it away. "I'm kidding, relax."

He didn't.

"As for Mir – your dragon, correct?" When Evan nodded, Freud made a wistful face. "As for Mir . . . perhaps he is with Afrien elsewhere."

"Elsewhere where?"

In return for the question – which Evan admitted was pretty stupid – Freud gave him a small smile, a shrug of his famous dead shoulders and an "I don't know."

This was going nowhere. "Why'd you ask me to ask you questions if you didn't know the answers?"

"I didn't know what questions you were going to ask me. I assumed you would ask me the right ones, I'd give you the answer and we'd both have a magnificent conversation. Also, kid, I didn't ask you to ask me questions, I ordered you to. There's a difference there."

Add another trait of Freud's that he didn't have to the ever growing list; the gift of gab. Obviously Phantom, Luminous and Mercedes hadn't been the only Heroes with smooth talking skills. "What kind of questions did you want me to ask?"

"For one thing, how to stop comparing yourself to me."

Evan's throat went dry. Oh. Um. Gee. "How'd you know about that?"

"Mercedes and Phantom. Occasionally Luminous also drops by in the shrine tribute thing they made for me in the corner of Phantom's ship and tells me a few things. Mostly though, Mercedes and Phantom talks to me about everything and anything on their daily ranting visits."

Right, the other Heroes, all of whom had come from another lifetime and were therefore bound to each other by invisible chains of time and destiny and partnership that he'd never ever be a part of. Not that he didn't try to get along with them . . . it was just quite difficult with the mixed reception he received amongst them.

The elf queen had taken him under her wing from the first time they had met, declaring him her ward. Every time he did something remarkable she'd look at him with her pale blue eyes, beautiful face filled with both pride and melancholy. While he appreciated the warm motherly figure she was for him, the sad look always reminded him that he was a replacement for someone dear to her in her eyes.

Phantom, on the other hand . . . He didn't exactly hate Evan outright, nor did he treat him with visible coldness, but there was barely any more warmth than the expected polite pleasantries that had no real meaning. The thief tried to avoid him when possible, like he was the epitome of awkwardness. When the older man did speak to him, he always stared straight ahead like he expected to see a man around his height, not a thirteen year old boy. Phantom had never once looked him directly in the eyes.

Luminous was busy with his own internal conflicts, but occasionally Evan found the mage's mismatched eyes staring at him with an incomprehensive look.

The only one he felt somewhat comfortable and himself with was Aran, but the white-haired warrior was slowly regaining her memories and slowly starting to treat him as a shadow of Freud as well.

Evan tried to fill Freud's shoes as completely as he could, he really did, but the Heroes loved the Dragon Master too much to ever accept anyone else as a replacement for him. Apparently, Evan resembling Freud didn't help matters at all. In fact, he suspected that it had the opposite effect. "I don't think I can."

Freud grimaced. "You don't think you can?"

"Well," Evan shuffled his feet, crushing a purple wheat plant under his foot by accident. Were those things edible? "Yeah."

"Kid, do you happen to be under the misguided assumption that everyone expects you to be another me?"

"It's not misguided if it's true," he pointed out.

"And it's not true; therefore, it's misguided," Freud replied. "Kid, no offense . . . but you show your ignorance right at this moment."

Evan slumped. Back to the whole 'you're-a-stupid-kid' speech.

"Straighten up," Freud ordered. "Now, I hate to sound like Phantom when he's drunk and philosophical, but you need to stop your habit of viewing the world in only blacks and whites."

"What about the Black Mage?"

"He's an exception, and don't try to change the topic. I know what you're trying to do," he added when Evan's face slumped further. "Let me tell you something; none of my friends expect you to be me."

"Then why are they all so disappointed and sad when they're around me?" Evan demanded, knowing he sounded like a brat – but really, at the moment, pep talks and false cheer from a figment of his imagination wasn't something he wanted. He had Mir for that. The pep talks and cheer, that was, not conversations from figments of his imagination.

"Has it ever occurred to you that they're just grieving for a lost friend? Kid, in case you haven't noticed, we look quite similar. Chances are, they're just trying to recover from seeing reminders of me."

"So I'm the problem," Evan said bitterly. "Great. It's all my fault again."

Freud sighed. "Eventually, they'll move on with their lives and stop grieving for me, alright? That's what happens in life. Until then, just indulge them. Remember, they've been frozen for over several lifetimes."

"By then, they'll all be expecting me to be your replacement!" Everyone had told him that Freud was a wise, understanding person capable of great empathy. If that was true, why couldn't the imagined dead man see that the Heroes all expected him to be some kind of a stand-in for him? "Just your replacement! Not Evan and Mir, not another person, but Freud and Afrien ver. 2.0!"

Freud was silent and just when Evan thought that he had gained his bittersweet victory over the dead man he opened his mouth to speak again. "I don't think you're 'just' my replacement. I think that you are your own person, and happen to be stepping in for me because I can't be there."

It may have been the sensitive topic that was making him feel like he was going to cry and shaving away at his patience or just the fact that this Freud was his imagination being weird and not the real person he succeeded, but Evan had lost all of his courtesy towards this Freud. "What do you know, you're a figment of my imagination."

The other Dragon Master burst out laughing. "I suppose that's also true," he said, wiping away a tear after his laughing fit. "But doesn't that also mean that your subconscious is trying to tell you something about your depressing thoughts?"

"My thoughts aren't depressing!" he defended himself.

"Thinking that you're nothing but a shadow of someone else and that you can never be your own person because it's your duty to be a doppelganger for a dead person is generally considered depressing, if not downright self-degrading."

. . . His opinion about himself after joining the Heroes as the Dragon Master did sound quite depressing when Freud put it like that, but Evan wasn't willing to admit it. "It doesn't change the fact that I'll always be your replacement in the end," he said stubbornly.

Freud glanced down at his wrist for a moment. "Kid, by your logic, Empress Cygnus should be a depressed woman who goes around moping because she can't do everything her aunt did."

"That's not true!" Evan bolted up in defense of the young empress. "She's super nice and willing to do anything for her people! And even if Empress Cygnus isn't her aunt she's still surpassed her in some areas!" Phantom was going to kill him for that, but Evan figured what the thief didn't know wouldn't hurt him. "She's even made the Cygnus Knights and she's her own person, so she shouldn't have to be some replacement for- oh."

"Yeah, now you see it."

Evan tapped his foot for a bit. "It's different."

Freud's face actually twitched a bit. "In what way?"

"Cygnus was Empress Aria's heir," Evan pointed out. "I just got lucky and ran into an egg."

A very patient look replaced the slightly irritated one shaping Freud's face – a face so patient it had to be fake, a mask donned to be polite. "Then I'll name you my heir. Happy?"

"Not really."

"Well, life is disappointing, so get used to being my heir and successor, young Evan."

Evan would have argued further for the sole sake or arguing, but this was the first time Freud had called him by name.

The other Dragon Master waved at him. "Now go get the Black Mage."

And the purple wheat field, Freud, this unknown world – all of it just began to swirl and mix until everything faded into black.

"It's all your fault."

"You've told me that before, Mercedes. Thirty two times, in fact."

"Well, you should know it."

"I remembered what you said the first time you said it; however, I'd like to argue that it wasn't my fault. The fault, if you think about it, lies with Luminous, who gave his untested, potentially drugged-,"

"You were the one who drugged the drink!"

"-beverage to a young boy to drink. If he hadn't messed everything up young Evan here would be laughing with his dragon friend at our comic relief."

"Phantom."

"Luminous, put the orb down. The staff, too. Put it down, Luminous."

"Yes, listen to Mercedes, Luminous."

"Phantom, shut your mouth and stop that flapping tongue of yours for once. You're really not helping matters and-"

"I think he's awake!"

Evan frowned and tried to lift his eyelids; only, they were too heavy to lift. "Mmf?"

"Oh, you're right, Aran, he is awake."

"Excellent. Evan! Whose fault was it that you abruptly fell into unconsciousness during the party we held to celebrate another one of Aran's memories coming back?"

"Phantom!"

"What? I believe he has the right to decide and settle this matter – don't you?"

"One more time, and I swear to the World Tree I'll kick you out."

"It's my ship, you know."

"And it was your fault the boy was knocked unconscious. Just what did you feed him, anyways?"

"First of all, I wasn't the one who fed him the hallucination potion – that was you, Luminous. Second of all-"

"Aran, kick them out."

"With pleasure."

There was the sound of a scuffle, a few yelps and small shrieks – both of which could have easily been mistaken as feminine if Evan didn't know better – two thumping sounds and the slamming of a door.

"Thank you."Evan felt the mattress sink slightly around his legs and guessed that Mercedes had sat down. "Evan? Can you hear me?"

Her voice was gentle, and motherly. He gave a weak nod.

"How do you feel?"

"Nngh."

Somewhere in the room he was in, Aran gave a soft snicker. "He's out of it."

"I'll skin them alive," Mercedes muttered as she put a damp washcloth on his head. While he was pretty sure he wasn't burning up, the cool towel felt nice. "You rest, alright?"

"Mmm."

The mattress sprung back into its original shape as Mercedes got back up. "Let's leave him to rest," she said to Aran.

"Good idea," Aran replied. "Kid, you recover soon, alright? That dragon of yours shoots fireballs when he mopes, and fur capes do not go well with fire."

When the door closed, Evan thought he heard an echo of Freud's voice. 'Told you so.'

'Aren't you a bit too old to do this?' he thought back grumpily, and was met with a silent, ghostly laugh only he could hear.

Fin.

Bonus

Evan's throat went dry. Oh. Um. Gee.

"It's 'OMG', young Evan. The letters stand for 'Oh My God'. Shouldn't you know this better than me?"

"You can read minds?!"

"I can."

Another thing to add onto 'The List Of Amazing Stuff Freud Can Do That Evan Can't'.

Despite the title coming from a song (recommend the Senka version, but the original's nice too) the song I actually listened to the most while writing the majority of this story happened to be PSY's 'Gentleman'. However, Cyber Thunder Cider's PV has an awesome stick figure person dancing at music intervals. Just keep in mind that Gentleman is Korean and Cyber Thunder Cider is Japanese.

Also, the purple wheat field things comes from my crossover story, 'thieves' cards'.

Argh sorry CJ.