AN:
My sincerest apologies for everyone who's been waiting for this fic to continue. It's been a long while, but while I haven't updated this one, I have been busy updating others and revising some other fics in my library. With that and some personal workings, it's been hard to keep up.
Nevertheless, I have returned to grant you another chapter, and hopefully will continue to do so! :) Please enjoy, and a review would be nice.
Oh, and please don't scream at me about the end. It's going somewhere, and Scooby is a special dog. :)
Part 7:
"Mmm…Fred…please…."
"Please?"
"Like…don't make me beg. Can I have it?"
"I suppose..."
"Aah! YES!"
Anyone who didn't know them would have sworn they were doing something naughty. Googie certainly thought so, turning abruptly around to head back into the kitchen with her eyes averted. Velma wasn't as prude, and ducked her head into the den to see just what was going on.
What she saw had her laughing.
Shaggy was lounging on the rug by the fire, head resting against Fred shoulders with his eyes closed in bliss. Fred was smiling down at him; laughing a bit as Shaggy leaned further into him, grateful for the treat he'd been given. The wrappers on the floor were a dead giveaway.
Fred had brought Shaggy's favorite candy with them.
It was a good way to keep Shaggy's mind off of the inevitable. They still had their little problem to deal with, unknowing of when or if that problem would strike again. From what she had managed to gather from Googie between bouts of her spacing out and mumbling to herself, there was no distinct pattern of play as far as these nightmares went. According to her, they just appeared out of nowhere, and knowing Googie, the variables at play were too vast to pinpoint any type of starting point to proceed from. She might have felt sorry for the girl, but the damage to her friends was too great for her to easily be swayed by a sad pout and the guilt cloud that permeated from her frame every time she walked by those two.
She needed to feel guilty. Guilty was the founding point of becoming someone different for the sake of one's self loathing or for saving face. It was the building block in making different choices, and usually they were for the better. The girl had her chance. She didn't know how to take Shaggy as he was and appreciate him for his spirit and his heart. She couldn't know. Walking into his life and becoming that light tended to blind people, and she'd been blinded by her own delusions of a happy settled life with a laid back kind of guy.
Why didn't people realize that dreams conjured by one heart usually were only meant to be fantasy?
"You're doing that thing again." Velma turned her thoughtful look to Daphne, who stood beside her and stared at the two men in their lives. Shaggy was practically purring, and Fred was all but too happy to keep him like that. But the picture was marred. Those bandages weren't supposed to be there. The somber nature of Fred's hand falling on Shaggy's cheek had no place in a picture of happiness. Shaggy's gentle but worried smile masking the tears that wanted to fall. Daphne shook her head at it and turned away before her eyes could sting anymore than they did right then.
"You see it too?" Velma asked quietly.
"It's as real as the inner monologue in your head," she quipped. "I just…I wish it wasn't like this…you know?"
"We can fix it." How? Velma could not be sure. But they had gone through the runs of some off the wall things and come out just as cut up as they were now. "We'll find a way to do something to fix this, and then this picture will change."
Shaggy curled into the firm embrace of his human shield, his head upon his shoulder and staring into the fire. Scooby, his rock in life, wandered over, plopping down in front of the twosome and whined softly as Fred's hand fell on his muzzle. The weight of it all was burdensome, troubling them even in the picture of happiness that they portrayed to those who couldn't know what lie under their eyes or in their hearts. Fred feared for Shaggy's life, Shaggy was scared to death of losing Fred, and Scooby…the Great Dane wanted everyone to stop hurting.
That picture had Velma adjusting her glasses on her face, grim determination set in her sharp gaze. She would find a way to get them out of this.
There was a sharp knock on the door. Every head within the vicinity popped up from whatever was going on in front of it, people popping up just as quick to survey the door that had disturbed their silence. It was evening, therefore the worst popped into mind before the logic could surface, everyone tense and unsure of what caused that knock. It could have been an acorn or something else, but they knew better, especially when the knock cam again, this time a little more insistently. Fred was on his feet and urging Shaggy to remain where he was, running to grab a poker and meet up with Pop Roger already aiming for the door with a bat in hand. They weren't about to be caught off guard again.
Velma looked back at Googie standing at a distance behind her and Daphne. The fear in the girl's eyes wasn't present. It couldn't have been those things…
But then, who was it?
Sam grabbed the doorknob, jarring it open before the knock could come again. He and Fred were ready and willing to do damage, at least until recognition hit Fred's eyes and complete shock as well. He put a hand on Sam's shoulder and eased the man back. "It's all right, I know her." he explained. "Although…I'm not sure why she's here? Sibella?"
The pale looking teen with violet eyes fluttered them prettily at the two men. "I'm here because someone texted me about a certain tome that went missing a while back," she answered. She held up the phone to convey her proof, though there was no need. Shaggy was in their midst a moment later and had the girl's sympathy ten times over when she got an honest to god look at him. "I wasn't sure where to go, but the Shaggy's scent is unique…so I recruited Winifred to help me out." The wolf teen popped up behind her, wary but glad to see them. "Is it all right if we come in?"
Fred nodded and made the motions to do so, revealing the bandages on his arms. Sibella was on him in an instant, grabbing his arms and hissing to herself at the damage that was done and could have been. Winifred kept her distance, but her eyes said it all. She knew something had happened, that something evil had been in their presence and its smell was still all over the place. She covered her nose with apologies, but there was no need. Fred shook his head and turned to bring Shaggy flush against him.
"So…you want to introduce us?" Sam asked. "I do believe these two…are not your average girls if they know about that tome correct?"
"You're right, they aren't," Shaggy said, "but they are very special girls. They won't harm us pop."
"I know son. If you were frightened in any way, they would not be here. I think I know my son well enough to know his habits by now, yeah?"
Shaggy blushed a bit, but smiled anyhow. His father patted his shoulder and motioned for everyone to follow. They did so, coming into the living room where the others were waiting. Daphne and Velma blinked in surprise at the girls that came through, clearly having no knowledge of who they were or why they were here. Googie, on the other hand, spied Sibella with some suspicion, a certain woman that belonged to a certain vampire coming to mind when she laid eyes on her. Sibella in turn glared her way, not amused at being appraised by someone she didn't know. It was one thing to be curious, and it was another much more offensive matter to be held in suspicion. The girl was human, and by rights she had been invited in, which made her a virtual meal.
Shaggy's gentle hand on her shoulder kept Sibella from voicing the thoughts on her face. "Like, let's not have a blood bath right now, all right?"
"If you insist…"
"Blood bath?" Maggie questioned. "What's with the deferential reference to such a horrid event?"
"Not that we're broadcasting it, but there is a reason for it, and Googie, like, stop staring at her before I turn my head and she has you for an appetizer!" Shaggy warned. He was still feeling more than a little mean for himself, and not one lick of remorse was shown when Googie stepped backward in plain shock. The others were a little more than amazed at the sudden turn around, though it could be blamed on the recent stress factors in their lives. Shaggy rubbed his head tiredly, leaning into Fred when he tightened his grip on his waist. It was all very tiring, though he dared not sleep.
"Gang, this is Sibella and Winfred," Shaggy explained. "They are two girls from the finishing school I worked for a while back. I was their gym teacher."
"Oh? Are you two out here for a visit?" Angie asked.
"Not quite mom. You see, after I got the specifics from Velma about that book, I called Sibella. Sibella is Dracula's daughter…and I figured she could help us if not Dracula himself."
"Unfortunately, Daddy is tied up with some unfortunate business between warring clans," Sibella sighed. She ignored the soft gasp from Googie, focusing her gaze on the curious one with the glasses. "As the Elder, and with his standing fame and status, he has to remain where he is until things are settled. He sent me instead. I'm to retrieve the tome and decipher just what was unleashed in from its pages."
"Unleashed?" Velma cried. "You mean that there are things bound into the pages? Like honest to goodness for real monsters and fae!"
Sibella couldn't help but smile at the girl. She was quite bright for someone who didn't hear but so much in a short amount of time. She was good at reading between the lines, which was a bonus considering that they couldn't speak but so much about the fae without drawing attention. "I take it that you've looked through the book?"
Looking through it wasn't even the half of it. Velma couldn't believe half of what she read, and the fact that Googie had carelessly read from that tome without thinking about the repercussions of just what may or may not lie within it; it made her blood boil all over again and had Sibella baring her fangs in amusement. It only served t o remind her of what Shaggy said, which in turn caused her to fluster a bit when she saw those fangs grinning. "Wait, he said you were Dracula's daughter…oh my god, Dracula is actually real?"
"You should know better than anyone that what appears to be may not be, and what may not be is," Sibella said. "You have that type of spirit about you, the one who seeks answers but knows when to keep her foot out of unknown and dangerous affairs."
"Unless it concerns my friends," Velma corrected. "Then I don't care how dangerous it is. I only want them safe and sound, unhurt and happy…and there for me when I moan about my life."
"Not that there's much to moan about," Daphne giggled. Velma elbowed her softly in her side. "What? The only thing missing from your life is someone to settle down with and rampant kids that destroy books."
"Which is enough of a birth control method for me."
"See? Nothing to complain about!"
The light joking banter of the two girls did its job and lifted some of the tension from the room. Angie, always one to go with the flow of things, ushered the two girls to the couch before running into the kitchen to make them something to drink. Of course she thought twice about it when she remembered Sibella was a vampire, which only caused the violet haired teen to laugh quite a bit when Angie asked if she drank anything aside the obvious. Sibella waved her off, having no need to feed or devour anything of refreshment. She'd taken care of that on the way here, thanks to some creep who thought it was nice to sneak up on teenage girls.
Shaggy caught the look in her eye and sighed inwardly. "Like tell me you left whoever it was where someone could find him."
Sibella smiled serenely at him. "Mr. Mitchell is safe and sound in front of the local police building," she assured. "I made sure he was where everyone could see him…without his clothing."
"And believe me, it was work not to let her do more than that," Winifred muttered, "not that the jerk didn't have it coming."
He decided not to ask. The girls tended to keep to themselves unless provoked, and only then did things take a turn for the worse for those who were involved. The Calloway Cadets could testify to that. "Where's Elsa?"
"She had to recharge," Sibella said. "And magic like this is not without strange effects."
"You're saying that because of her nature and the way she was made, she may like, be affected somehow in a way that's not so nice, right?"
"Right."
"Who's Elsa?" Daphne asked.
Shaggy smiled a little as he sat down with Fred. "She's Frankenstein's Daughter."
Daphne briefly thought about opening the wine bottle meant for their thanksgiving meal in a week. If she opened it, it would be gone and she would probably be calmer than she was right now. It was bad enough when she discovered the realities of voodoo and that actual honest to god zombies could exist, but now the supernatural world was announcing itself in her cabin, as if they'd always been there in the presence of their group. The whole issue with those ghosts was something for her and Shaggy to share amongst themselves, but this shoved Shaggy into a whole new light she hadn't ever thought would be upon the tender hearted man.
"It was while I was away from you guys," Shaggy said before anyone could ask. Fred had heard the story already, well aware of how difficult it was for his lover to openly talk about it without trembling shy of being confused for having a seizure. He kept his arm around him, his free hand clasping the shaking one of Shaggy's and kissing the back of it. "It's…a long story."
It wasn't quite that long of a story, but it was long enough for them to reevaluate just what they knew about their residential hippie and what he would do for the sake of those he cared about. He told them the story of the Grimwood finishing school, the witch Repulsa, and what she wanted to do overall to the offspring of the most famous monsters of the world. He told them about how he had decided not to stay for the next semester and wound up trekking his way back here into the waiting arms of Googie who was now staring at him with tear filled eyes.
He told them about the run in with Dracula, and how he was chosen to be a werewolf. Sam actually grunted at that, scratching his chin thoughtfully and leaning into his story, saying that it wasn't truly a surprise once again. He had mentioned it earlier in the week, saying that it tended to run in the family. So it really was of no surprised when Velma latched onto that, asking in earnest just what all Sam knew about the Rodger background. Maybe there was some clue in the lineage. There was nothing worth not looking at. Everything and anything could have answer inside.
Sam grunted again, though this time it was in slight amusement. "Our family tends to be drawn into the strange world of mystery whether we want to or not," he said. He shifted back in his seat a bit, is countenance aging a bit with only a breath, the air around him thickening with something one couldn't clearly place their finger on. Shaggy moved closer to Fred, unsure of what he would hear and fearing it as much as he wanted to know what his father meant. Scooby, on the other hand, lifted his worn self from where he lay. He trekked over to where Sam sat in the recliner, sitting heavily before him one moment and sitting ramrod the next. Sam smiled sideways and gently patted the Great Dane's head. "We cannot help who we are, and we cannot help what attracts them to us. It is in our blood, as much as life is within all."
"Why do I have the off feeling that you're going to say or do something that will freak us all out?" Daphne asked.
"Because you're right. Although, showing you is not something I can do. Telling you, however, is allowed." He paused to scratch Scooby's head once more, smiling a little more as the dog snorted openly and scooted closer with a paw on his lap. "It's something the males in our family have dealt with for a very long time...an inexplicable tendency to draw chaos where there is none. Some say it's a curse. Others say it's a gift. Whatever it is, the denominator is the same. We always have a Doo at our side."
"A Doo? You mean Scooby's family?" Velma questioned. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"
"That Scooby Doo comes from a line of dogs that are not normal Great Danes? Yeah. I am. Honestly, have you ever seen a dog honest to god talk before? It never really bothered you, did it?"
The gang shook their heads tentatively, as if realizing it for the first time. Shaggy was the only one who didn't. He'd known Scooby since he was little. Scooby talking to him was like breathing. It came natural. When he didn't have anyone to be with, Scooby was always there, joking with him, eating as much if not more than him, and conveying the proper coward that lived in him right alongside Shaggy. Truly a boy's best friend even after he'd become a man. Even so, it was a little odd at just how human like Scooby could be at times. Almost in a cartoonish way, Scooby integrated himself into their worlds by being himself and bringing them together in a fashion that no ordinary dog could do. Shaggy was the one to realize that they might not even be here if it weren't for Scooby, and he clung a little tighter to Fred, unable to imagine not having Scooby or Fred in his life.
Fred, regarding the Great Dane in another light, asked the question that was on everyone's mind. "Just how special is Scooby anyhow? I mean he's special in a way we couldn't begin to tell, but…just what do you mean when you say you've always had a Doo at your side?"
Sam sighed heavily. His fingers kept scratching the back of Scooby's head. "It's been said that a long time ago, that my ancestor and his dog, a Great Dane that was bred by a man with the last name Doo had an encounter that changed their lives." Scooby leaned further into his touch, as if to comfort the man rather than enjoying the good scratch Sam meant to give. "Thomas Doo was a strange man who bred nothing but Great Danes. His Danes were prized dogs, but they came with a hefty price. Most people could not afford them. Others tried to steal them. Most who wronged him found themselves the victims of their own misfortunes and nothing could right them."
"This of course being legend, right?" Velma asked.
"Right, but then…some things are stranger than they are told to be. Or so it says in the journal belonging to my ancestor. My ancestor, Sherman Rodgers, was a peddler trying to make an honest buck. He was a coward in every sense of the word, running at the first sign of trouble and avoiding it if there looked to be some. He was a kind man and usually did favors for nothing if the need was great enough. He made his living honestly but his courage was what kept him from being more than what he wanted.
"One day, a pair of thieves had managed to do the one thing no one dared. They had stolen the latest batch of puppies Thomas Doo had bred and were off to sell them. Thomas was furious. He chased after them with his trusted Great Dane and the father of those pups, Fenrir Doo, and cornered them in the little town my ancestor was working in.
"Sherman saw the commotion as it unfolded. He started to run, to avoid getting mixed up in business that wasn't his own. Something stopped him. No one knows what it was, but it was said that when he heard the cries of those puppies in the bag, he forgot about his cowardice and leapt into the path of the thieves. They collided horribly, the collision knocking Sherman on his back and breaking his hand in the process. The thieves lost hold of the bag the puppies were in. Fenrir snatched the bag before they could confiscate it and Thomas was on them before they could turn their anger on Sherman.
"Once the commotion died, the thieves were taken away to be imprisoned. It was a victory that was spoiled by the tragedy that was discovered once Thomas retrieved the bag from his dog. The puppies had been saved, but three of the four puppies in there had died when the thieves had carelessly tossed them in the burlap sack. The one that was left alive was badly injured and would not sell as Thomas had hoped."
"Those poor puppies…" Daphne cried softly. "They didn't deserve that."
"No…they didn't. Thomas felt that Sherman, a man who didn't have much to his name, didn't deserve to be left without care for his valiant but unusual efforts. He took Sherman, the puppy that was left, and his dog Fenrir back to his farm. Once there he dressed Sherman's hand and allowed him to stay as long as he felt the need. Sherman thought it would be rude to run before the day was over, so he stayed and wandered the farm, unaware of who Thomas really was.
"His wandering eventually led him to a room where Thomas had placed the injured puppy. Fenrir was there as well, but the Great Dane was more concerned with the health of his last pup than why Sherman was there. Sherman wasn't good at much. He wasn't a grand master of anything or pretended to be. However, he was kind hearted and he lent his kindness and concern to the puppy as it fought to overcome its injuries.
"Thomas, having stepped out to gather some things, wandered back into the room to see Sherman speaking to the puppy as if it were human. Fenrir was watching Sherman, still concerned but at ease. It's mentioned that when Sherman turned his attention to Fenrir and petted his head without being bitten, Thomas Doo lost his heart."
There was a little more to it than that, but the generalized version was going to have to do. Sam, while he appreciated his heritage, could not bring himself to quote the embarrassingly long love letters he'd glimpsed when he'd discovered all of this as a young man. His grandfather had been quite smitten with the history and with his cheeks when they reddened in the same manner as they did now. "Long story shortened, Thomas wooed my ancestor into living with him, and eventually taught him about his dogs. Their friendship became more than that, as mentioned in his journals," Sam said. "In later entries, they'd come to adopt three children belonging to Sherman's sister. I believe the tradition and the strangeness began when the eldest one, Simon Rodgers, had come of age."
"Tradition?" Shaggy asked. "Like…you mean the one where I got Scooby?"
"Yep. That one. The oldest child is given a dog, a Great Dane with the last name Doo. Simon was of age when he was given his dog, Setter Doo, and set out on his journey to make a name for himself. As he wandered from town to town with his dog, he made many friends. He also had a penchant for getting into trouble much like his Uncle. It was of no fault of his own…he just stumbled into it and usually wound up uncovering some strange things when the madness was over.
"When Simon sent Sherman letters of his travels, Thomas decided that it was time to tell Sherman the truth. His dogs were not ordinary dogs. He was not an ordinary man. He was fae…and his dogs were bred to attract trouble and get rid of it by any means possible. Whoever was the owner of these dogs would be protected from all harm and would never see sadness long; however the 'price' so highly thought to be money was a peaceful uneventful life."
"Whoa…I bet Sherman wasn't expecting that," Maggie said.
"No…and for the most part he wasn't upset by it. Living one's life dully was a way to keep one's self from doing what they were meant to do. In giving these dogs to those who were of blood or willing to pay that price, they learned much about the world, how it worked, and gained many friends and much family. It became a tradition that has come down to this family…and having Scooby's father was probably the most exciting time of my life. I miss that old dog."
Scooby whined softly and put his head in Sam's lap. It wasn't that long ago when his father passed away, though it was from old age and nothing more. It was his time to go. Sam had taken it quite hard, as did the rest of the family, but Shaggy had been nearly inconsolable, clinging to Scooby as if it were he to die. Death never really hit someone until it hit close to home. It was around that time that Shaggy had decided to leave Coolsville…
"Well, anyhow," Sam sighed, "The name and the legacy behind Doo is still alive today. The line has thinned out some, but within every batch of Great Danes there's one or two that stand out the most. The farm that Scooby and his entire family were born from is the same farm that Thomas and Sherman ran in the past, and Scooby is the one out of the batch that stands out the most…aside Yabba that is."
Scooby snickered and walked over to Shaggy staring at him as if he'd known this all his life. He knew Scooby was special. He just didn't know how special. Regardless, Scooby butted his head against his arm in apology; sorry that his nature was the reason Shaggy happened to find so much trouble. He was a special dog, but one that was designed to make sure trouble followed him and stayed away from the ones that mattered most.
Unfortunately this amount of trouble was brought in by a secondary party, and while he could help, he couldn't draw it away from Shaggy like before. They were his nightmares brought to life, and there was nothing worse in the world to face than one's deepest fears. They could consist of anything and do what most nightmares thought to be justification in the darkness. They could kill. Fred's arms were a warning of what was to be if those things got their way.
"So…Scooby's bloodline is enchanted to draw trouble…and get rid of it?" Daphne asked. "But…Scooby's a big chicken! No offense Scoob."
"None taken," he said, clearly and not with his usual rumble. The shock was enough to render them speechless and had Sam laughing soundly in his seat. "…was it something I said?"
"Scooby…y-you…y-you just…"
Scooby shook his massive head at the lot of them. He might have been a dog but he understood a lot more than they thought. "All I did was remove the barrier that makes me indistinctive to your ears." Velma was enraptured by this, and he couldn't quite keep his amusement of the matter to himself. "I can't do it that often, but the fact is that Sam's revealed my nature and I'm allowed to show you what he means. Sam knows because my father did it to him, and Shaggy knows because he understands me without the barrier."
"Wait…you mean you actually understand Scooby, Shaggy?" Velma questioned, rounding her gaze on him. Their residential hippie shrugged. "I thought it was some kind of thing only dog owners had…"
"I've always understood Scoob." Shaggy reached out and rubbed his head, chuckling when the Great Dane pushed his cold nose against him. "He's always understood me. Scoob's my pal. He's always, like, been there…like a blanket you never forget or want to get rid of." Scooby licked him for this. "I love Scoob. He's one of the best things in my life…he brought me you guys…and with Freddy, I feel like this circle's been complete somehow. Like it all makes sense…"
This time Fred kissed him, not caring who was watching or who was gasping. The sniffle got him to stop before he ran away with his emotions and really showed Shaggy just how much he loved him. Sibella sniffed again, grabbing the handkerchief Daphne handed her and dabbing her eyes with it. "Sorry," she sniffled. "But I'm a sucker for romance. That's possibly the sweetest thing I've heard in a long time."
"Yeah…too bad something like this has to mess it up," Winifred muttered. "Whatever was unleashed from those pages isn't going to stop…they've left their mark…and it'll be back to finish the job."
"Which brings us to question just WHAT you managed to unleash, my dear." Sibella's eyes were long since dry and staring hard at the blonde that wasn't the object of Shaggy's affection. Googie trembled at her gaze, reminded of her father and those fangs and just what lurked in the dark when no one was looking. "Humans aren't supposed to hold books that have no value to them. If you don't understand what you're holding, then you run the risk of doing more harm than good. So, tell me…what were you trying to do?"
"I…I was trying to get rid of…Shaggy's nightmares." There was no reason to lie now. Someone would have said it regardless if what she did or said otherwise. "I had…broken his dream catcher…during a fight we had. He was…having really bad nightmares…the type you wake up screaming from…"
"So you thought the book would help him?"
"It turned him back from being a werewolf."
"It undid the magic that allowed him to harbor that gift," Winifred growled. "The fact that he could turn into a functioning werewolf without being bitten and not lose sense of himself like most humans tend to do means that he has magic within his blood. Dream catchers are not toys. Breaking them before they are ready to shatter on their own is asking for trouble!"
"Easy Winifred," Sibella said. "Don't ruffle your fur yet. The night's not over…and I do believe that we have someone who will do nicely for what needs to be done."
Googie didn't think her blood would ever freeze the way it did when they looked at her. "W-what…what are you talking about?"
"We're talking about getting a better look at what you may have unleashed in its true form…and the best way to do that," Sibella smirked, her fangs gleaming in the dim lighting of the room, "Is to use the one who summoned them as bait."
And end scene!
Why did I make Scooby understandable? Why not? His relatives are.
No, we shall not speak of Scrappy. Ever.
Anyhow, I felt Scoob should have a short say, and some kind of mysterious family background that makes people blink. Did it work? Anyhow, reviews are nice. :)
