Notes: this piece is meant to take place after the Season 1 finale, and serves as a prelude to my Season 2 project. I honestly find it very difficult to believe that the gang would just move on with their lives and not try to keep in touch with Vincent and Flim-Flam after everything they've been through together, which was why I started my Season 2 project in the first place—it's meant to pick up from the end of Season 1, and everything that happened in the WB era is meant to be a separate timeline (as I touched upon in "But Know the Truth"), but that isn't to say that I won't eventually be bringing in some of the better WB plotlines into this timeline eventually.

The mention of Daphne's hair is a slight nod to Curse—one of the few things I did like about Curse was her hairstyle there. And the mention of Alex Super references a one-time character from an episode of The Scooby-Doo Show; I just fleshed out a bit of his backstory with the gang.

Vincent found his castle too quiet now, with no one else there. It was still full of sounds—the winter wind outside, the icy fragments of snow striking the window-glass, and, every so often, the call of cold and grumpy animal as it trudged through the blizzard outside. And yet, it was too quiet—too empty.

Vincent had been far more out of it than he'd cared to let on after they'd captured Zimbulu at Boris's TV studio, and it was, for the most part, due to Boris's attempt at a jealousy-induced betrayal. Vincent wasn't sure what had been more jarring—the thought that one of his old gang of schoolmates would attempt to betray him, or the fact that Boris had been holding onto that jealousy since those days, for centuries upon centuries.

And yet… he couldn't be angry at Boris; a good look at himself had reminded Vincent that he had been extremely prideful during his schooldays and had tended to gloss over when his gang had trouble keeping up with him; Boris and Byron had tended to struggle the most, but while it hadn't bothered Byron, it had clearly bothered Boris—probably because he was already a few years older than the others, having had to put off his entry into the academy a few years in order to raise the obols needed for the academy dues.

Regardless, Boris now regretted what he had tried to do—Vincent had wanted to believe he would have stopped himself from opening the Chest even if Zimbulu hadn't burst in to claim it from him. He supposed he'd never know for sure, but Boris still expressed his sincere regrets, and Vincent had forgiven him.

But Vincent had still been shaken, though he refused to let it show; but a new, fresh set of terrifying "what ifs" now attempted to invade his thoughts. Did the rest of his old gang secretly resent him, as well? Did Voudini resent him for not stopping Nekara from draining his mana? And the kids… did they resent him, as well…? They'd had reasons to—he'd essentially conscripted them into giving up a year of their lives to take on a quest that they hadn't been prepared for—and even during their downtime in the last year, he'd more or less spearheaded how they'd spent it. But what right had he to tell them what to do and how to live their lives—and force them on a quest that was incredibly dangerous? They'd learned their lesson about the consequences of their actions…

…And, more than that, with Zimbulu captured, the only one of the 13 Ghosts left remaining was… that one. If those kids found out the truth about Asmodeus and Vincent's connection to him, they would never look at him the same way again.

…Their time together was over, or just about. And Vincent decided that this was the way he would have wanted them to part—on good terms and high spirits.

And so, he had instructed them to go home to Florida—to spend the holidays with the friends they hadn't seen in over a year, and for Flim-Flam to experience the mad rush of the American holiday season for the first time.

"If the final ghost shows itself, I will let you know," he had said.

They clearly hadn't expected it, and, to Vincent's surprise, they hadn't jumped at the chance to go back as he'd assumed they would have. But, eventually, the lure of home and spending special days with special people drew them back. And, of course, Vincent hadn't had any intentions of calling them back at all, instead intending to deal with Asmodeus on his own and essentially releasing them from their quest…

…But that was before he had realized just how empty the castle was without them—and how lonely he was.

He chided his own short-sightedness; how could he ever have worried about those kids turning on him, after they'd proven willing to sacrifice their happiness with him to save him from Rankor's petrification curse a couple months ago? They had loved him—and, like a fool, he had pushed them away, just as he had pushed away his old gang all those centuries ago.

This is for the best—just as it was then, he tried to assure himself. The longer they'd stayed with me, there'd be the risk of something happening to them—either by Asmodeus, some other enemy, or even my own powers…

He placed his hand on the crystal ball, sighing quietly. They must have been busy and sidetracked by being home and with their friends and family, for they had only been able to get away for a few minutes on New Year's Eve (on the pretext of picking up some last-minute party supplies) to use their crystal ball to contact Vincent and wish him Happy New Year. It had warmed Vincent's heart to hear from them again, and he had fondly returned the sentiments, but the call had been brief on account of their busy schedules. They had, seamlessly, slipped back into their old lives.

As well they should, Vincent reminded himself. I've only been a part of their lives for a comparatively short time; I have no right to demand to continue being a part of things. They're back where they belong—and Flim-Flam is better suited for that life, rather than this.

He removed his hand from the crystal; he knew that at the slightest implication that he was lonely or unhappy, they would abandon their resettled lives instantly to be with him. They deserved to live their lives in peace, without looking over their shoulders for ghosts and monsters, or whatever out there that would, inevitably, set its sights on Vincent.

"Live well," he said, quietly speaking a message that he didn't intend for them to hear. "Achieve the things I know you're capable of achieving—and know that I couldn't be prouder to have known you five mortals. I imagine your lives will become even busier once you fully return to your old ways, but, if you can spare a moment once in a while, and if you're so inclined… spare a thought for this old warlock, won't you? …I know I'll never be able to forget you."

He closed his eyes for a moment and sighed once more. The silence was then broken by the crystal ball ringing; his heart skipped a beat, hoping—

It wasn't them, however; the image of a witch with two long streaks of silver hair highlighting her otherwise auburn hair appeared in the crystal.

"…Alisa…" Vincent observed, surprised (and slightly disappointed).

"And Pythia!" the raven cawed, flying into view of the crystal, as well. Being a witch's familiar, Pythia had mana, as well, extending her lifespan as it did for mages.

"Yes, of course; hello to you, too, Pythia."

"You sound as though you were expecting someone else," Alisa observed.

"Well… I guess it doesn't matter," Vincent replied.

"Hmm…" she mused, knowingly. "I suppose you're wondering why I called?"

"Someone must have brought you up to date on everything that's happened this past year," Vincent surmised.

"Yes, up until Mardi Gras, it was Voudini keeping us updated on everything—just as he had for the past three hundred years…" She shook her head. "What happened to the both of you was simply tragic—it never should have happened."

Vincent merely grunted in reply.

"Byron has been keeping us informed since then—but, a few weeks ago, I received a most frantic call from Boris," she continued. "…He poured out his soul to me, Vincent—he told me everything. …I always knew he was a little jealous, but I never imagined… Well, let's not dwell on it. He is truly sorry, Vincent."

"I know," Vincent replied. "And I have forgiven him—he knows this."

"That well may be, but I feel as though he wishes to make it up to you somehow. In spite of his jealousy, he did consider you a friend, and he was just as worried about you these past three centuries, as we all were. And for him to realize that he let his jealousy get in the way of what should have been a joyous reunion… Well, you understand his distress."

"Yes, but I don't know what else to tell him—I've forgiven him, and I've made that clear under no uncertain terms that I'm willing to move on from it," Vincent insisted.

"Nevertheless, he finds it a bit too much after all this to say that he missed you," she said.

"Miranda misses you, too," Pythia cawed.

"That will do, Bird," Alisa chided. She paused. "Even if it's true. …Vincent, she does miss you; she would have been willing to continue your association as friends. But she sensed that you feared her reaction, and so she avoided contacting you for fear of intimidating you."

"…I see," Vincent said. "I will take it under consideration."

"Please do," Alisa said. "In the meantime, I did find a way for Boris to start making things up to you."

"Did you? How?" Vincent queried, arching an eyebrow.

"First, let me confirm what I suspected when I first called," Alisa said. "You were expecting a call from someone else, weren't you?"

"Expecting? No."

"Hoping, then?" Alisa offered. "Is that the word to use here?"

"…Yes, perhaps I was hoping to receive a call from someone else," Vincent confessed. "Not that I don't appreciate your reaching out—"

"You don't have to explain, Vincent," Alisa said, kindly. "And I do know who you were hoping to hear from."

"Your kids!" Pythia cawed.

"I was trying to contact you a little while ago to tell you about how Boris was feeling," Alisa said. "Well, can you imagine my surprise when I reached them first—because you had given them one of your crystals!?"

"You spoke to them!?" Vincent exclaimed. "Are they alright!?"

"They are," she said, with a smile. "But they miss you very much, too. And that's where Boris comes in."

"…I don't quite follow," Vincent said, visibly confused.

"You will, in a moment," Alisa said, cryptically.

Vincent was about to say something else, but whatever he had intended to say was interrupted by a knock on the castle's front doors. He stood up, hardly daring to believe it…

"…Alisa, can I call you back…?" he asked, not even staring at the crystal anymore, his gaze focused on the direction of the sound.

"No need, Vincent; they'll explain the rest, and you can call me in a few days once things have settled. Take care."

"Take care!" Pythia echoed.

The images in the crystal faded, and Vincent now teleported from his study to the hall of his castle, quickly opening the doors to see all five of his mortal apprentices, bundled up to shield themselves from the mountain blizzard, and a pile of luggage with them; their faces were partially covered by scarves, but it was clear that, by their eyes, that they were smiling. Though the chilling wind was blowing into the hall now, the warlock barely felt it. Were he a tactile person, he'd have pulled them all into a hug.

But, he was not, so here merely gestured to the interior of the hall.

"Well, come on in," he said, stepping aside as they gratefully came in from the cold. "The fire is going in the study fireplace—you can all warm up in there."

"Thank you, Sir," Shaggy sighed, as Vincent closed the doors after them, teleporting their luggage inside, as well. "D'you mind if we unpack later? I just wanna feel my hands again…"

"That's perfectly fine," Vincent assured him. "In fact, why don't I…?"

He teleported all of them to the study.

Scooby shook off the snow-covered blanket he'd been wearing and curled up in front of the fireplace with a contented sigh.

"Sorry for dropping in on you without warning, Vince," Flim-Flam said, as he, Scrappy, and Shaggy joined Scooby by the fire. "We tried to call you on the old crystal, but I think we got some lines crossed."

"Yeah, we spoke to this witch who said she knew you, and that she'd heard about us from Mr. Voudini and Mr. Befuddle," Scrappy added. "She had this big crow with her!"

"A raven, actually," Vincent corrected. "Alisa was a close friend of mine during my schooldays—and Pythia is her familiar."

"She mentioned that," Daphne said, removing her winter hat. She gave her hair a quick toss to get it into place, and Vincent noticed that, at some point in the last couple of weeks, she'd had her hair done in a different style—it was wavier now, and her bangs were sweeping to one side. "She also suggested we ask Mr. Kreepoff to teleport us here."

"…So that's what she meant…" Vincent mused.

"…I hope we haven't put you out; we really should have called and let you know we were coming back," Daphne added, apologetically.

"That's alright—you could say it was a pleasant surprise," Vincent assured her. "And the five of you are always welcome here."

Scooby looked up from his place on the hearth-rug.

"We missed rhou, too," he said.

Vincent blinked; had he really been that obvious?

Evidently so, considering the smile that Daphne was trying to hide as she joined the others on the hearth-rug.

Vincent decided to let the matter pass, and he was about to head for his armchair before pausing; he considered his options and, finally, opted to join the others on the hearth-rug.

"Did you have a good time in Florida?" he inquired.

"The greatest!" Shaggy said. "Man, it was so nostalgic—Fred even brought over the old Mystery Machine, and we just drove around town like we used to!"

"Alex Super was back in town, too; he was a year ahead of us in high school, but he was still a friend of ours—Fred met him in Theatre Club, and when he met the rest of us, we just hit it off," Daphne added. "It was nice catching up with him—he's become a solo artist."

"Rheah—rhe's really good!" Scooby grinned.

"I still say I could help him get a record deal if you'd just let me be his producer," Flim-Flam snarked.

"Oh boy…" Scrappy chuckled, rolling his eyes in amusement.

Vincent listened as they recounted more of their Floridian misadventures.

"…And you left all that to come back here?" he queried, still surprised by it.

"Well, sure," Shaggy said. "Like Scoob said, we missed ya, Mr. V."

"You're a part of our lives now—nothing's going to change that," Daphne added.

Vincent wasn't so sure about that; there was still Asmodeus to worry about, and those two troublesome spirits, Bogel and Weerd… to say nothing of whatever else might be out there, ready to set its sights on him—or the kids…

…No, he silently vowed.

And he pushed his thoughts aside as he glanced back at the others.

"…Perhaps you're right," he conceded. "Now, tell me more about Florida."

They happily obliged, and as Vincent continue to listen, in the back of his mind, he continued to think about how things were now.

They were the closest thing to a family that he had—their return had made that clear under no uncertain terms—and he would protect his family with every last bit of his power, if it came to that.

For the moment, however, he would continue to sit with them by the fireside and enjoy the momentary peace.