Notes: The first two scenes of this piece are meant to be prequels to my 13 Ghosts Season 2 project; the first depicts how Scrappy ended up traveling with the gang (Daphne's Aunt Olivia is from The Scooby-Doo Show), and the second features a scene I've alluded to in other fics, as to how Vincent met Flim-Flam (and I found a way to finally explain how a Nepali-Tibetan boy speaks English with a perfect American accent!). The final scene takes place after my Season 2 fic "The Pleasant Valley Poltergeist" and sets the stage for the next installment in the series.
January, 2013, New York City
"Here we are," Daphne sighed, wincing as the winter wind whipped up around the New York streets. "Good old York Towers."
"N-Not a moment t-t-too soon," Shaggy stammered, holding onto Scooby.
"Rh-Rhyeah," Scooby stammered.
They, and the others, breathed a sigh of relief as they entered the interior of the building.
"Boy, what a day," Fred sighed. "I know it's winter, but this is unseasonably cold!"
"It's the polar vortex, Freddie," Velma said, unraveling herself from the gigantic scarf she'd been wearing to combat the cold. "All that frigid air from the very northern extremes of our planet is sitting here over a great deal of North America. You know, it's a meteorological phenomenon that may not be exclusive to our planet. If my internship application at NASA gets accepted, that's one of the things I'll want to find out."
"I'm sure you'll get accepted," Daphne assured her, as she led the way to her aunt's apartment. "They'll probably wait until we graduate to accept you, but I'm sure it'll happen."
"Thanks, Daphne," Velma replied. "I sure hope so."
"Like, I'm sure of it, too," Shaggy added.
"They'd be the ones missing out if they didn't," Fred agreed.
"Rheah, rheah!" Scooby barked.
Velma smiled.
"Thanks," she said again. "I guess the only thing that I'm not looking forward to if I get accepted is giving up all of this."
"Yeah," Fred sighed. "It won't be the same without you, Velma."
"But that won't stop us from being friends," Daphne insisted. "No matter what happens, no matter where we end up—that will never change."
The others nodded in agreement as Daphne now knocked on the door of her aunt's apartment.
"Daphne!" she exclaimed. "Oh, it's so good to see you again—all of you! Fred, Velma, Shaggy, Scooby… I hope you didn't have trouble getting here in the cold."
"We're fine, Aunt Olivia," Daphne promised, as they all stepped inside.
"Rhow's my sister rhand nephew?" Scooby asked.
"We're fine, too, Scooby!" Ruby Doo smiled, meeting them at the entry.
"Uncle Scooby!" Scrappy exclaimed, giving him a tackle-hug—being so small, of course, it just resulted in him clinging to his uncle's leg. "Hi, Shaggy!"
"Hi, Scrappy," Shaggy grinned. "How've you been?"
"Just great!" Scrappy exclaimed. "Well… I don't like being cooped up inside because of the cold—I wanna play with my friends, Duke and Annie, but Mom won't let me!"
Ruby gave her brother a shrug.
"Scrappy, your uncle has brought the rest of his friends to meet you," she said. "Why don't you say hello to them?"
Daphne, who had been the first to hang her coat up, now knelt down to greet him.
"Hello," she said, kindly, offering a hand of friendship.
"Gee, you must be Daphne," Scrappy said, shaking her hand with his tiny paw. He smiled at her, and then at Velma, who greeted him next. "And you're Velma."
"That's right," she smiled, shaking his paw, too.
"And that means you're Freddie!" Scrappy finished, greeting him.
"How'd you ever guess?" Fred teased, shaking his paw, too. "Hey, Scooby, your nephew would be a great detective!"
"Really?" Scrappy asked, his tail wagging.
"That's actually why we're here," Daphne informed him. "Your mom is going to be helping my aunt from now on, and so, we think it's a good idea for you to travel with us for a while, so that your mom can adjust to her new job."
"Yeah?" Scrappy asked, looking back at Ruby. "No kidding!?"
"Well, you've talked about wanting to travel with your Uncle Scooby for a while," Ruby smiled. "And now that I'm going to be busy working, and now that you're old enough, this is a perfect opportunity."
"I really can't thank you enough for arranging this," Olivia sighed. "But I feel terrible, separating a mother and her child."
"Really, Aunt Olivia, we've discussed this again and again," Daphne assured her. "After what happened last time, your new doctor recommended a therapy dog to help with your nerves. Ruby has just completed her official training, and she's Scooby's sister—she's like family already."
"Yes, but, Scrappy…"
"Scrappy's been wanting to travel with his uncles for a long time," Ruby assured her. "Isn't that right?"
"Yeah! Uncle Scooby and Uncle Yabba both said they would let me travel with 'em!"
"Rhe did!" Scooby agreed.
"And once Ruby has adjusted to the job, Scrappy can come back at any time," Fred added. "It shouldn't take long at all."
"But I'll bet I'll be solving mysteries and having so many adventures, I won't wanna come back!" Scrappy predicted. His eagerness then faded slightly. "Though… I'm sure gonna miss Duke and Annie; it was nice having friends my age."
"You know, Scrappy, I know how you feel," Velma said. "I applied for a dream job, and if I get it, I'll have to say goodbye to my best friends, too. But we just discussed it a few minutes ago—separating won't stop us from being friends. And you'll always have chances to see your friends again."
"And, like, who knows, Scrappy—maybe on our adventures, you'll find a new friend that's your age!" Shaggy added.
"That's right," Ruby encouraged. "And they'll end up meaning as much to you as Duke and Annie, too!"
Scrappy considered this.
"Alright, I'm in!" he declared, tail wagging again. "When do we go on our adventures!?"
"Like, not in this weather—that's for sure," Shaggy insisted.
"Rhno way!" Scooby agreed.
"I wouldn't think of letting you leave in this!" Olivia promised. "You can all stay until the weather improves."
"Thanks, Aunt Olivia," Daphne sighed in relief.
"Don't mention it. Now, why don't you have some lunch? You must be starved!"
"We sure are!" Shaggy exclaimed, he and Scooby perking up. "Let's eat!"
Scrappy cheerfully joined everyone, idly wondering in the back of his mind as to when he'd be able to meet this new friend on his adventures.
January, 2013, Jadhugar Peak, Nepal-Tibet border
The boy hadn't been sure just how long he'd been on the run for—it wasn't the first time, but with how cold the night was, there was every concern that this might be the last. But he was so close now; after staying on the run from the social workers determined to drag him back to that orphanage, he'd heard from the monks of a nearby monastery about a powerful sorcerer who lived somewhere in the mountains. Thinking that he had found a way to ensure his freedom, the boy had gone to the Abbot himself to find out more.
"I do sense a great power from atop the peak," the Abbot had said. "We call it Jadhugar Peak for that reason, on account of the Jadhugar—the sorcerer—who is said to have dwelled there in a castle for the last three hundred years. But I also sense a great darkness—grief and sorrow, and a wish to remain alone. I cannot guarantee that the Jadhugar will help you—and the winter nights in these mountains can be brutal. You had best return with the social workers, my boy—they only want what's best for you."
"But they don't know what's best for me," the boy had replied.
He hadn't been able to elaborate; the orphanage wasn't a bad place, by any means—but they wanted him to behave a certain way, to stifle who he was. And maybe the other children could stand for that, but he couldn't.
Perhaps the sorcerer could give him some magic that could help him convince the social workers to leave him alone, or, at the very least, convince the orphanage workers to stop getting him to conform—that had been the boy's reasoning for choosing to traverse the rest of the mountain at night, running before the social workers could have a chance to catch up with him—for he knew that the Abbot would have been duty-bound to call them as to his location.
It had been a foolish—and dangerous—decision the boy had made. The Abbot hadn't been joking about the nights on the mountains—and how the weather could change in the blink of an eye. The night had been mostly clear, but, out of nowhere, a blizzard had blown in, and the boy couldn't see a thing. Which way was up or down, he didn't know anymore; he just gritted his teeth and kept on going…
…Until he ran headlong into something large and wooden that he hadn't been able to see in the blinding blizzard, knocking him down. Now that it was right in front of his face, the boy could see that he had crashed into a pair of wooden doors, painted red, with a brass gargoyle face on each one.
The boy stared blankly up at the wooden doors, not even registering that he had found the castle that the Abbot had mentioned. Weakly, he leaned against one of the doors for support, trying to hammer on it with a tiny fist.
Suddenly, without warning, the door opened, and the boy, still leaning on it, fell over across the threshold, catching his breath as he finally had a chance to breathe without the wind blowing right in his face.
He was vaguely aware of someone exclaiming something in a language he didn't understand—Ancient Greek, was it?
Slowly, the boy looked up—and up, and up. He had found the sorcerer he'd been looking for, alright—the mage towered over him, staring down at him with an unreadable expression in a pair of blue eyes.
Neither of them moved for a moment, until the boy finally spoke—
"Please… help me…" he said, first in Nepali, and then in English.
The blue eyes softened, and out of thin air, the sorcerer conjured a blanket that wrapped itself around the boy.
An instant later, they had teleported near a fireplace; the boy sighed in relief, still shaking from the cold.
"My Nepali isn't as good as it should be," the sorcerer said, after a moment. "But you seem to know English."
"Uh-huh…" the boy managed to say. "L-Learned English from American T-T-TV shows…"
"…Well, that accounts for your accent changing when you change languages," the warlock snarked. "Who are you? What is your name?"
"D-Don't have one…" the boy replied.
"No name?" the warlock asked, arching an eyebrow. "Where are you from?"
"Orphanage…" he admitted. They didn't formally get named until their adoptions were finalized. "Was l-looking for you t-to get the social workers off my back…"
"And so you flim-flammed me into letting you in!?" the warlock replied, frowning.
The boy looked up with a helpless shrug, prompting the sorcerer to roll his eyes. He knew desperation when he saw it, but he was, nevertheless, vexed at having his solitude interrupted.
"Listen well, Flim-Flam," the mage continued. "You can stay until you recover—and then, you will leave here and return to the orphanage, is that clear!?"
The boy sighed. Maybe he'd be able to convince the sorcerer to let him stay longer—he could pretend to play out his symptoms for a few days and go from there… In the meantime, perhaps he could try to get on friendlier terms with him.
"You g-got a n-name?" he asked, ducking the sorcerer's question entirely.
The warlock arched an eyebrow again.
"Vincent Van Ghoul."
"Th-thanks for the help, Vince."
Vincent looked as though he was about to insist on being addressed with more formality, but after taking another look at the boy's pitiful state, thought better of it.
After all, the boy wouldn't be staying for more than a few days, right?
June, 2016, Jadhugar Peak
More than three years had gone by since the boy had turned up at his doorstep, and, true to the moniker that Vincent had bestowed upon the boy, Flim-Flam had managed to convince him to let him stay.
By now, however, they weren't alone—they'd been joined over a year and a half ago by a group of Americans with a penchant for getting into trouble—four from that group in New York, coincidentally gathered on the very same day that Flim-Flam had set off for his mountain climb, had ended up in Tibet—Shaggy, Daphne, Scooby, and Scrappy. Through a course of adventures, they'd met Vincent and Flim-Flam, and, like Flim-Flam, ended up not leaving.
And Scrappy, in Flim-Flam, had found the friend he'd been promised that night; the two were partners in crime (and crime-fighting), cast from the same mold—streetwise and crafty, but open-hearted.
And, for all of them, Vincent's castle was home, with the castle study being their favorite place to spend their time; they were playing a game of cards and had, somehow, managed to drag Vincent into it—but it was during this that Daphne's phone rang.
"It's Velma!" she exclaimed. "Velma, how are you?"
"Great—everything is just… great!" Velma exclaimed, sounding giddy about something. "…Daphne, it's happening. My supervisor's pet project—the Mars probe. It's really happening—we launch next month!"
"Velma, that's fantastic!" Daphne exclaimed, as Shaggy, Scooby, and Scrappy all echoed the same sentiments.
"You'll all be here to see the launch, right!?" Velma asked. "Freddie's confirmed that he's in—"
"Like, of course we're in!" Shaggy exclaimed.
"Rheah, of course!" Scooby barked.
"Yes, and it'd be a great story for the Chronicle!" Daphne agreed.
"Hey, what about my friend Flim-Flam—the one you met last Christmas?" Scrappy asked.
"Sure, bring him along!" Velma replied.
"Hey, thanks!" Flim-Flam grinned.
"Not a problem—can't wait!" Velma gushed. "I've got to call home and tell them, too—talk to you all later!"
Daphne sighed contentedly as she put her phone away, and glanced at Vincent, who, being the only one who hadn't yet met Velma (or Fred) personally, had politely remained silent.
"You don't mind…?" Daphne began.
"Why should I mind?" Vincent asked. "Your ties of camaraderie are meant to last—whether with me or with your old companions."
Daphne nodded. Still, it didn't sit right with her to just leave Vincent behind—but how on Earth would they explain who he was to Fred and Velma? Explaining Flim-Flam had been easy—after all, they had been there when Shaggy and Ruby had predicted that Scrappy would end up finding a good friend his age. But explaining a 2000-year-old warlock who had more or less become a parental figure to them was something far more difficult to explain—especially when they'd been struggling to keep their adventures facing real ghosts and monsters a secret from Fred and Velma, for their own safety.
Someday, perhaps, they'd find a way to introduce him to them, and have all eight of them be a tight-knit team.
That, she realized, was her greatest wish.