Daphne wasn't the only one to be restored, of course; Asmodeus, Bogel, and Weerd had also reappeared once the second, repairing ripple effect had kicked in. Asmodeus more or less ignored the two ghosts crying in relief as he focused down the beach, glaring at Vincent in the midst of the group hug.
Vincent was back, and, if anything, he would be even more protective over those mortals after what had just happened.
Fine, then—Asmodeus would wait. A few more months to get his revenge would be nothing after waiting over three hundred years.
"Enjoy what little time you have left with them," he hissed. "It will make it that much more satisfying for me when they are torn from you forever."
With that, he flew off back to his cave, with Bogel and Weerd scrambling behind him.
Vincent had sensed their departure, breaking away from the group hug to ensure that they wouldn't be coming back. After he was satisfied that they weren't, he relaxed for a moment—until he finally paid attention to the snow that his younger self's Blizzaraga spell had left behind. He exhaled, his shoulders slumping, but he was able to get rid of the wintry mess fairly quickly, and then turned back to the others.
"We've done all that we were instructed to do—seal the Time Worm in the Chest," he said, sounding incredibly casual for someone who had—albeit temporarily—been rewritten. "…I deeply regret the complications that arose along the way, of course; and, once again, I offer my most humble apologies—"
"You don't have to apologize," Daphne assured him. "We know you changed—and for the better."
"And thank goodness for that!" Shaggy added.
"Yeah, it's great to have you back, Vince!" Flim-Flam grinned.
Vincent let out another quiet sigh.
"That being said, I'm sure you will wish to get back to spending time with your friends," he added, casting a glance at Fred and Velma. "I can cast protection spells on you and anywhere you intend to go—and I'll be sure to keep an eye on things through the crystal, should there be need of my intervening—"
"Rhou're rhleaving?" Scooby asked.
"But… why!?" Scrappy asked.
Vincent responded with a wan smile.
"…I regret that I must not have made a favorable first impression."
"Are you kidding!?" Fred blurted out. "You saved my life, remember?"
"And once your younger self realized that your actions were putting Daphne in danger, you did what you had to in order to save her, too," Velma pointed out. Her expression softened. "And you barely knew her then. Even if Freddie and I don't know you as well as the others do, it's clear that you love them as much as we do."
"And that's enough for us," Fred agreed. "As much as we hate being apart from them… knowing that they're with you will definitely help us feel better about it. But we'd like to get to know you, too."
Vincent glanced back at them in surprise as Daphne and Shaggy practically beamed with joy.
"…Dr. Midori did give me the rest of the day off," Velma added. "We could spend some time together—all eight of us—before I spend some time with my folks." She smiled. "I know I'd love to hear some more of that Athenian poetry."
Vincent continued to stare in surprise, but he managed to regain his poise.
"Well, who am I to deny my audience…?" he mused, a hint of his youthful pride creeping back into his voice.
"Like, I'm all for poetry," Shaggy said. "But now that the whole Time Worm thing is over and we can catch our breath, do you think we can get some food, too? We haven't eaten since our second breakfast!"
"Rheah, rheah!" Scooby agreed.
"I suppose I can conjure up a meal that could satisfy even the two of you…" Vincent mused.
"Wait, I've got an idea!" Daphne exclaimed. "No need to conjure anything—just teleport us! There's this place in our hometown where, once we were done solving a case, we'd spend the rest of the day just hanging out there. It has great food and great music, and it's just… a nice place. And, well… I'd love for all of us to go there since this 'case' is technically over." She gave a shy smile. "…I've been dreaming of this moment—sharing this place with all eight of us."
With Vincent being his old self once again, it was once again true that he couldn't refuse a request from her.
It had been a long time since they'd been to the old Malt Shop, and, even after all this time, Daphne had been pleased to see that it was just as she'd last left it.
They'd ordered all kinds of food, plus a round of the house's specialty strawberry malts, and as they ate, they all listened intently to more of Vincent's recitations—and, quite often, his commentaries on them. Daphne knew there was still an elephant in the room regarding what had happened to her and how that must have affected him, but as long as everyone was here, the focus was on enjoying each other's company.
Vincent had been about halfway through telling them previously unknown details about the Trojan War, including the surprising revelation that Helen of Troy—Helena, as Vincent pronounced it—was, in fact, a witch who had long since fallen out of favor of the Olympians (despite being a daughter of Zeus and another one of Athena's half-siblings) for engaging in the Forbidden Arts and had, therefore, turned to Hecate instead—and, as far as he knew, was still alive somewhere in the world.
Daphne, like the others, had been so enthralled with his stories that she hadn't even noticed the front doors of the Malt Shop bursting open until she heard someone frantically cry out her name.
"Daphne!"
She gasped, giving a start as she saw her father and mother barrel in to the Malt Shop, apparently having searched for her for a while. She found herself not sure how to feel about seeing them—on the one hand, she still felt betrayed, but, on the other hand, her father had faded from existence temporarily, and she hadn't really had time to internalize that as it had happened, since she had been concerned for her own well-being.
"There you are!" George sighed.
"You didn't answer any of our calls since you hung up on us last evening!" Elizabeth fretted.
Daphne's expression grew grim; briefly, she checked her phone and realized that, in all of the madness that had occurred, she'd had over a dozen missed calls from the both of them, most of which had only come in recently given the timeline hiccups.
"We tried looking for you at the base, but they wouldn't let us in without a pass—Velma's parents said that you'd all gone off together," George sighed. "This was the one place we'd hoped you'd end up."
"We were just leaving," Daphne bluffed. "But I guess we'll have to find somewhere to stay the night since you're selling the old house."
The others drew closer to Daphne, as though silently affirming that they would be siding with her in this squabble. George did a double-take as he noticed Vincent there among them, being the odd one out.
"Daphne, please understand…" Elizabeth sighed. "I was upset when I last spoke to you—we both were."
"You were upset!?" Daphne asked. "How do you think I felt? I had finally achieved something big in my journalism career, only to find that my own parents wanted me to fail all this time!?"
"It's not that we wanted you to fail, Daphne," George promised. "We were extremely disappointed that you wouldn't reconsider helping to run the family business, and our disappointment more or less manifested itself in a way that should have never been expressed. We were wrong to word it like that."
"…So it doesn't change the fact that you want me to give up my career to take over yours?" Daphne asked.
"I know we can't force you to… but it would make us so incredibly happy if you did," Elizabeth said.
"And what about Daphne's happiness—does that mean nothing to you?" Vincent asked, unable to remain quiet any longer as the others nodded in agreement. "The two of you have no idea how fortunate you are to have her for your daughter. She has accomplished much with honor and great fortitude. You may have had plans for her, but you must accept that she is her own person. She has a right to choose which legacy she wants to inherit—yours, someone else's, or to choose her own path."
"And just who are you!?" George asked, slightly put-out at being lectured to by a complete stranger.
"His name is Vincent Van Ghoul, and he's someone whom us Blakes owe a great deal of gratitude to," Daphne said, immediately. "In 1692—"
"The focus isn't on me," Vincent interrupted. "It's clear that you still love each other as a family—you wouldn't be upset with each other over something like this if that weren't the case. There is a chance for you to reconcile with each other—don't let that slip away. You don't want to be left with regrets."
There was an awkward silence.
"…Your mother and I did say things that were hurtful," George admitted to his daughter. "And, for that, I am sorry."
"So am I," Elizabeth agreed. "We want to be happy for you, Daphne—and I expect, in time, we will be. But we'll need time."
"…Well…" Daphne sighed. "I'm going to need some time to internalize everything, too." She bit her lip, once again thinking about how, for a brief amount of time, her father had vanished from existence. "…I do want to keep the lines of communication open. But I'm going to need some time and some distance before I'm ready to talk about this specifically—"
"—Oh, my goodness…!" George suddenly exclaimed, glancing back at Vincent. "Daphne, did you say 1692!?"
"Yes, I did," Daphne said. "But—"
There are a lot of old documents in the family vaults," George recalled. "But some of them are intriguing and quite memorable—one of them was a description by one of our ancestors of the night she left Europe for the United States… something about a Grecian warlock who saved her only child."
"Yes, that's right," Daphne said, with a nod.
"…That was over three hundred years ago, George," Elizabeth mused. "I don't see how that's relevant with anything—"
"It profoundly affected her son once he was old enough to understand what had nearly happened to him," George informed her. "He never knew the warlock's name—only that he had ties to Ancient Greece. And so, to honor his unknown savior, he started what became a Blake family tradition—that the firstborn of every next generation of the Blakes be given a name of Grecian origin."
"…What…?" Daphne asked, stunned.
"Well, haven't you wondered why, despite your Scottish ancestry, you have a Grecian name?" George asked. "Daphne was the name of a nymph who supposedly lived in ancient times—it's also the Greek word for the laurel tree. And my own name, George, is the English version of Georgios, which was an epithet of Zeus before he became the King of Olympus." He glanced back at Vincent. "But how does he fit into all of this?"
Daphne hesitated.
"I don't know how exactly to break it to you, so I'll just say it," she sighed. "…Warlocks are immortal."
George took a moment as her words sunk in, and he gave Vincent another look.
"You mean, he's the one…?" He cleared his throat. "…Then it's true—the Blakes do owe him a great debt…"
"You don't," Vincent insisted.
"It's what he does—use his magic to help people who need it," Daphne agreed. She hesitated, deciding that now was probably not the best time to admit that she was going to learn magic herself. "He's been helping us with my articles and things. Even solving mysteries." She sighed. "By writing these articles and solving mysteries, I'm helping people, too—keeping them informed and unmasking criminals. And that's what's important to me—it always has been. I wouldn't be happy sitting in an office all day—I hope you and Mom can understand that." She looked away for a moment. "…It hurts, knowing that you're not fully in my corner. Like I said, I'm going to need some time."
"…I think we all will," George admitted, as Elizabeth nodded. "But I hope we can move forward together in the end."
"I'd like that, too," she admitted, nodding, too. She paused. "…Are you still selling the house here in town, or…?"
"…I think we may have been hasty in making that decision," George said, after a moment. "We'll talk about that later, too—but, for now, we'll leave it be."
"…Thanks."
They exchanged cordial goodbyes with her, and then with the others, who politely returned them before George and Elizabeth took their leave, heading back for Blake Manor.
And Daphne sat back down with her friends, looking at her in concern.
"You okay?" Shaggy asked.
Daphne took a deep breath, but managed a wan smile.
"You know what?" she asked. "Yeah. I think it really will get better between me and them in time." She glanced at Vincent; it was his advice that she had taken to heart, after all, to try to reconcile with her parents. "Thank you."
And Vincent merely responded with a nod.
Daphne now relaxed again as the tension began to recede, and she, along with the others, listened to more of Vincent's recitations, contentment filling her heart once more.
Epilogue
The rest of the day was spent enjoying each other's company—showing Vincent and Flim-Flam all of their favorite old hangouts and the sites of some of their memorable mysteries, and then having dinner at the Malt Shop again.
Velma took her leave of them after dinner to give some attention to her family, but promising to catch up with them tomorrow, while Fred decided to stay with them. They all decided to spend the night at Daphne's house now that it was, for the moment, still hers. They chatted for a while until, one by one, they retired to their rooms for the night.
Daphne lay awake in her room for a while before deciding that it was time to address that elephant in the room that she knew Vincent would want to address. Slowly, so as not to disturb the others, she made her way to the guest room he was in. She was about to knock on the door, but paused as she heard him speaking Greek—and heard a woman's voice replying over the crystal ball. She felt a sudden thrill as she realized that she didn't recognize this voice, meaning that it could only be…
She knocked on the door, eagerly, and there was a moment's pause.
"Come in," Vincent replied, in English.
Daphne shyly opened the door, smiling as she saw Miranda's image in the crystal ball.
"Hello!" Daphne greeted, trying to suppress just how excited she was to see her and Vincent being on speaking terms again.
"Hello," Miranda returned, smiling as well. "You must be Daphne—Vincent has told me so much about you."
"He did?" She looked to Vincent, who was trying to keep his expression neutral. "Well, I know who you are, too. It's nice to finally speak with you, Miss Muir."
"And it's nice to speak with you," Miranda assured her. "Vincent tells me you're going to be his protégé and learn magic from him. That's quite an honor in mage society—incredibly so considering it's Vincent."
"Yes, I'm beginning to realize that," Daphne said, slightly embarrassed.
"Based on what Vincent has told me about you, I'm sure you'll be wonderful," Miranda mused. "I foresee great things from you." She glanced back at Vincent. "You will give some thought to what I asked?"
"Of course," Vincent promised. "We'll talk about it later."
"Right," she agreed. "Take care."
They exchanged goodbyes, and the call ended, leaving Daphne absolutely beaming again as she glanced back at Vincent.
"…It's not what you think," he said, arching an eyebrow at her. "She was merely asking me about whether or not I intend to attend a class reunion at Terror Tech in a few months."
"Mm-hmm," Daphne replied, her expression remaining unchanged. "You know what I think?"
"What?"
"…I think the two of you still have feelings for each other," she said. "I mean, think about it; you didn't really want to break off your engagement—you just felt that you had to because you didn't want to hurt her by accident. But, anyway, I'm glad that the two of you remained friends."
"…This time, you mean?" he asked, dodging her guess. "Yes, that's all thanks to you."
Daphne blinked, surprised.
"You… You remember—?"
"Do I still remember the timeline where our breakup was rather acrimonious and we never spoke again? Yes, I do," Vincent sighed. "That's the interesting thing about changing the timeline—those directly involved in manipulating the change can still remember how things were originally. Miranda wouldn't remember anything of the old timeline; I believe only the eight of us do—possibly Asmodeus, since the Time Worm was his doing—but I have no desire to ask him." He paused. "You probably don't remember Time Slime's alternate future, do you?"
"Remember what?" she asked, utterly confused.
"…I thought not. Well, that's for the best, I'm sure," he sighed, deciding that she didn't need to know about how Time Slime had brainwashed her into a shell of her former self. "In this new timeline, Miranda and I only had a period of silence for the last three hundred years—I didn't want to speak to anyone after… that night. Even in the old timeline, Voudini was the only one who managed to be stubborn enough to keep trying to contact me—the same happened this time, too."
"You don't know how much I wished that there could've been some way to prevent you from going through that this time," Daphne promised, blinking back tears. "But there wouldn't have been—not without my ancestor dying." She sighed. "I'm so sorry. I got so caught up in self-preservation—"
"You did not," Vincent interrupted. "What I said—what my younger self said—about you being selfish could not have been further from the truth. …If anything, that was me projecting onto you." He turned away for a moment, shutting his eyes. "When you started disappearing… I don't think I'd ever been more terrified in my life—not until that night, at least."
"Really?" Daphne asked, stunned. "I knew you were shaken up, but I didn't think… I mean, you didn't even know me—the younger you, I mean. From your perspective, you'd only known me a few hours."
"We still had that unexplained connection; I've told you before, Daphne—love is the most powerful magic in existence. The ties that bind aren't easily broken—apparently not even by a timeline rewrite. I may not have known who you were back then, and yet, I still knew you were family—someone I could not lose. But then, I nearly did—in one of the worst possible ways—and by my own actions…!"
"You didn't know," Daphne reminded him again. "I didn't realize it myself until Velma pointed it out."
"Thanks goodness she did," Vincent sighed. "You pick your friends well."
"I sure do," she agreed, smiling again. "And so do you. I mean, you just said that you knew even then that you couldn't lose me."
"Yes, I did," he agreed, and he reached into his pocket, pulling out Daphne's green scarf. The color had faded slightly over time, but it was still intact.
"You… you had that with you all this time?" she asked, stunned as he handed it back to her. "Just to make sure I was alright!?"
"Well, wouldn't you?"
She managed a smile.
"Of course I would," she agreed. She sighed, grateful that they had gotten through this. "So, I think we'll be staying in Florida a few more days while Freddie is still in town. …I was hoping you'd stay, too."
"I would enjoy that very much."
"And then, I guess, after we go back, I get to start my magic lessons?" she asked, trying to tone down her eagerness.
"Yes," he said, suppressing a chuckle. "There's going to be a lot of reading involved—just letting you know that ahead of time."
"Fine by me," she said. She paused. "…So, the 'heiress' thing…"
"It's more a symbolic use of the word—as Miranda pointed out, choosing to pass on a magical legacy is a very significant thing," Vincent said. "The term heir or heiress is used in this case as, usually, a mage passes on their legacy to their children. As I said, it's symbolic; however, I do consider you—"
Daphne cut him off with a hug.
"I know. And I'll make you proud," she promised.
"Well, I knew that, too," he replied, returning the hug. "Now, you run off and get some rest—you need it."
"Right. Goodnight."
"Goodnight," he returned.
Daphne returned to her room now, in much better spirits. Things would be okay—and with Vincent and Miranda now on speaking terms in this slightly-altered restored timeline, at least some good had come from all of this.
Daphne suddenly paused as she realized that Vincent had completely ducked her guess that he and Miranda still had feelings for each other. She bit back a smirk. Well, she'd ponder over that another time—in the meantime, she'd be sure to tell Shaggy the good news in the morning.
She laid back again with a contented sigh, able to relax at last.
The future was back—and it was brighter than ever before.
The End
Notes: And that's the end! Thanks to everyone who supported this fic! There'll be a bit of a delay before the next main installment in the Season 2 project—for October, I want to focus on a series of oneshots about Daphne's magic lessons, and for November, I'll want to focus a bit on an original novel I've been working on for NaNoWriMo (though I expect I will be doing some 13 Ghosts oneshots then, too). So, look for the next installment in December! Until then, I hope you enjoy the oneshots I have planned!