Chapter 3:
Velma slept. Not because she was tired (although that condition was present) but because it was easier than thinking about everything else.
Daphne did not sleep. How could she? It was only six-thirty. The gang was still at the bowling alley.
Velma did not want to have to break the news to another soul. Daphne had offered and Velma had accepted.
Now Daphne wondered why exactly she had offered. How did you tell this to the gang? Did you just lay it out? Did you pull everyone aside and talk to them separately? Did you tell only one person and tell him to pass it on?
"Raphne?" Scooby was getting a little impatient. Daphne was spending just a little too long trying to adjust her aim, especially for someone who kept missing. Daphne couldn't help it; she was distracted.
After yet another miss-- with the guardrails up, no less-- Daphne turned to the Great Dane behind her.
She gave him a hug and scratched him behind the ear.
"Raaawww..."
Then the dog noted that his friend was crying.
"Scooby?" Daphne whispered. "Do you think you could ever be a therapy dog?"
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Telling a dog, even a talking dog, truly was not difficult. Daphne had apparently chickened out and given the easiest delivery of information first.
She had no choice, however, when it came to Shaggy.
"Daphne?" Shaggy asked, glancing over at the table where Velma lay her head with her arms sprawled out in front of her. "Daphne... like should we take Velma home?"
Daphne shook her head and sighed. "Shaggy... Velma doesn't want to go home yet."
Shaggy blinked. Daphne continued.
"Velma... is savoring her last night out with us."
"Wh--what do you mean?"
"I mean," Daphne started to tell him, but found she couldn't look him in the eye at that point.
"I mean her cancer's back."
Daphne hadn't known how Shaggy would react. Guys didn't just start crying out in public like Daphne was now. A guy also couldn't hug a girl who was dating someone else, even if they were friends. Fred probably would have made an exception, but neither Shaggy nor Daphne would have felt right.
All Shaggy did was stare, speechless. He swallowed, then stuttered.
"I... uh..." He swallowed again. "Oh."
He strode off. Daphne didn't know how to interpret that.
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She really procrastinated with Fred, which made her feel like a traitor on three accounts. One, he was the gang's leader, and deserved to know before anyone else (except of course Velma). Two, he was her boyfriend-- she should confide everything in him. Three, everyone else who knew sat in stunned, speechless silence as Fred drove everybody home, and Daphne felt awful that she did not reveal why everyone was so quiet as Fred had to endure the mysterious, forboding frost that was the passenger seats of the Mystery Machine.
Shortly after Fred released Shaggy and Scooby, he dropped Velma off at her apartment. She turned around.
"Freddie?" she asked uneasily. "I need a ride to the clinic tomorrow morning."
Please don't ask why, Daphne telepathically willed. Please don't ask why, please don't ask--
Fred did not ask. He simply closed his eyes and nodded.
"So I'll pick you up at--"
"Nine-thirty." Velma nibbled a hangnail.
Fred gave a strained smile and said, "Okay... see you then."
Now only Daphne and Freddie remained.
"Freddie..." Daphne started.
"It's okay, Daph... I know, or I can guess..."
Daphne looked over at him.
"She's sick again, isn't she?"
Daphne nodded. "Freddie, I--"
"It's okay," Fred told her.
"No, it's not, it--"
"Okay, you're right, it's not," Fred amended. "But I meant... it's okay if you don't feel like talking..."
"I feel like talking," Daphne admitted. "I just don't know what to say."
"Daphne... this has to be hard on you..." Fred wiped his eye, and Daphne wasn't sure if he just had something in it or if he was trying to disguise a tear. He continued. "It's hard on me... and I'm not even her best friend. But I do know she's an important part of our team. She's the one who really always motivated the rest of us to solve the mystery, and who made us feel like no matter how small a clue was... we were important..."
"Fred... stop talking like she's dead!" Daphne didn't know where that outburst came from; all she knew was that "remembering" Velma in such a sentimental way made her want to throw up. Velma was not going to die; why did they have to speak in eulogies?
"Daphne, I'm not talking like she's dead. Furthermore, she's not going to be," Fred said optimistically, but not cheerfully. "But you do realize she's going to be back in the hospital for... for a while. We can't give up mysteries just because Velma isn't with us. Crime won't hit pause just because a crime-solver is sick."
Daphne frowned and put her forehead in her hands. Fred was right; that was what bothered her.
Finally, the Mystery Machine pulled up in front of Daphne's house. Fred opened the door for Daphne and walked her up to the front step. He kissed her.
"Daphne, it's okay to be afraid."
"But I'm not even the one who's sick!"
Fred continued to hold her and stroked her hair.
"Daphne," he repeated, "It's okay to be afraid."