"Please, do not kill them."

"Daphne," Though Fred was thoroughly annoyed, he somehow maintained some sanity to deal with his girlfriend. "I am not going to kill them."

Daphne rolled her eyes. "… I completely believe that."

"I'm not. I'm going to lecture them as if they were kids."

"Freddie, we are kids. Velma's even younger than the rest of us."

This was true. Velma's mother had once told them that due to Velma's rapid maturity and high intelligence as a toddler, it was recommended she begin schooling early, and began kindergarten at the tender age of three. Now, she was only nineteen. This seemed to come to Fred's mind, as his face darkened. "Velma can't drink, Daph."

Her eyes widened from shock. "Oh god, you're right. She can't."

"How the hell did they get alcohol without her being ID'd?"

"They ID'd Shag. Velma looks 21."

Fred was starting to become enraged. "They could have been arrested."

Daphne's jaw dropped. "Freddie, we couldn't get a hold of them all night long. Both their cell phones were turned off after nine."

"You don't think they really were locked up?" Fred looked a mix between genuine concern and anger.

"I don't know what to think, Freddie."

"They better not have driven the van while they'd been drinking. That I will kill them for."

"Freddie, they made a mistake. They didn't kill anybody."

"If Shaggy was driving drunk, they might have."

"Are you implying Velma is a good drunk driver?" Daphne began to subconsciously giggle.

Fred groaned. "Velma hates driving in the first place. She barely passed her road test, and hasn't driven since. That was when she was seventeen."

"I just hope they turn up soon. This isn't like them at all."

With his mouth open and the beginning of a sentence spilling out, the sound of brakes began screeching, volume increasing beyond the point of ignoring them. The blonde and the redhead glanced at each other; each wearing a different expression. Daphne, fear, Fred; anger.

"Fred." Daphne had removed herself from her spot on the couch. She was now standing, making her way towards him, arms crossed across her chest. "Remember your promise. No bodies." She was half smirking, but Fred could tell that the other half was completely serious. Fred had always had one rule: don't touch the van. No one had ever broken it. Until now.

This would not be pretty.

XxxxxX

"Fred is going to murder us."

"Keep your voice down, Shaggy!" Velma whispered in a harsh, hushed tone. "He's not even outside yet."

"Sorry." His volume lowered. He began whispering, "He really is going to kill us. I'll never eat a Scooby Snack again…"

"Oh shut up." Her face darkened. "I mean it. I have the worst hangover. I think it might become a migraine."

Shaggy closed his mouth, putting the Mystery Machine into park and wrenched the emergency brake upwards. He turned the engine off and opened the driver's door. There stood Fred.

"Care to explain yourselves?" He was clearly angry. "You smell like a liquor store, Shaggy."

Shaggy began to smile sheepishly. "We may have had a few drinks last night."

"A few? Shaggy do you remember last night at all?"

He squinted. He remembered driving the lake, and some of dinner…

"I'll take that as a no, Shag." Shaggy could have sworn Fred was actually turning red. "Did you remember that Velma can't legally drink?"

That factoid had slipped Shaggy's mind. "She chose to drink. We had wine at dinner. You of all people think I forced Velma to drink?"

"Shag, you had more than wine. You do not smell like wine."

"You think I forced her."

"You were drinking."

"I'm 21, I can have a damn drink, Fred."

"Velma isn't 21!"

"Do you really think I made Velma do anything she didn't want to do? Seriously."

"I think you should have been more responsible. You both could have been arrested. You could have been in an accident."

Shaggy now began to grow red as well. "Wait, wait, wait. You, like, think I drove, like, drunk?"

"Did you?"

"No, Fred. And, like, where is this responsibility persona coming from?"

"My two best friends took off without notice with my van. I'm allowed to be pissed."

"I, like, agree with that."

Xxxxxx

"You've never been drinking before have you, Velms?" Daphne was maintaining the ability to keep calm. Velma was bent over, sitting on the living room couch. She was massaging her temples, internally preparing herself for a lecture from Daphne.

"No, I haven't."

"Why would you? You're underage."

"Did that stop you, ever?" Velma was being completely serious, she was looking up at Daphne, eyes fixed on her face.

Daphne was forced to stop and think. In high school, when Velma was studying, Daphne was often partying, and yes, drinking. "No. No, Velma. It really didn't."

"Then what's the big idea?"

What was the big idea? Velma had done nothing different from any other teenager. Was she mothering Velma?

"We were worried. You and Shaggy disappeared. Phones were turned off, the car was gone. We weren't sure what to think. Can you blame us?"

"We were fine."

Daphne had to give Velma that fact that illegal drinking was the least worrisome of the previous night's offenses, but agreeing that she was fine was not happening. "Where did you two even go?"

"Pennsylvania."

Daphne's eyes widened. "You went out of state with the van?" She took a deep breath, beginning to chuckle. "You've got more balls than I do, I'll give you that."

Velma looked up at Daphne in shock. "What?"

"You heard me. I couldn't have done that."

"Yes you could have. You're dating Fred."

The redhead's stomach flipped. Fred was certainly more than her boyfriend now. "Velma…. There's something you should know."

Velma readjusted her glasses, pushing them up her nose. "I know about the baby."

A flash of anger fell on Daphne. "How did you know? The only one I told was Fred."

"When Shaggy and I were leaving…" She paused, plucking fuzz off her sweater. "We heard you arguing about an abortion. You can only have an abortion if you're pregnant, so…"

"So what?"

"So, I'll support you either way. If you abort, or if you go through with the pregnancy." Velma was smiling. Only slightly, but it was definitely there.

Daphne had one tear sliding down her cheek. Just one. Velma would have seen it, if the lights hadn't gone out.

"Jeepers!"

"Jinkies!"

"I wonder what happened…" Daphne began to think aloud, absent-mindedly smoothing her dress, beginning to accept that in a few months' time she would probably never be able to wear it again.

"It's an old house, it probably wasn't built with electrical wiring; so someone had to install it afterwards… Giving how old Mrs. Berkshire is, I'd say it's been thirty years since she's had any kind of maintenance done. A fuse or transformer blew, most likely."

It was then that Daphne remembered the papers she had found in the closet while searching with Fred. "Uh… Velma… About Mrs. Berkshire…" She wasn't sure where to start with this, Velma was the most logical and thought-out person Daphne knew, she wasn't going to take this lightly. "During yesterday's dead time…"

"After we argued?"

"Yeah, I found something. Well two some-things actually. There was an old storage room up on the fourth floor and there were some boxes and well… I found these…" Daphne took the death certificates out of her pockets, and gave them to Velma.

Velma stood, taking the documents in hand. The held them up to the light, testing for their age and what kind of paper they were made out of. She examined the lettering closely. "In my opinion…"

'Yes?"

"They're real."

"Sergey told me that our client's name is Claire, and she already told us her daughter's name is Elizabeth. What do we do, Velma?"

"I'm not entirely convinced our client's this person. She may have been named after a family member."

"I'm not so sure. Shaggy was attacked, Scooby's scared more than usual, and PRS called in a priest!"

"I did some research, Daph. Apparently, that is their standard procedure."

"It's still frightening to me."

"I don't know what to make of this."

"PRS mentioned preforming an exorcism on the house."

"If this is real, Daphne…"

"How do we tell PRS that our client is our bad guy?"

"This isn't adding up. We need to regroup- just us."

XxxxX

The power was still out, though it had been several hours. Daphne had become very thankful for cell phone reception. She had managed to talk both Fred and Shaggy to stop fighting, just momentarily, so the entire gang could sort out all their facts. Given all the accidents and encounters that had happened in the home, the gang sought refuge in the back of the Mystery Machine. Fred had completely isolated himself, slumped in a corner. Shaggy would grumble every so often, resulting in a glare from Velma. Daphne had chosen to ignore the behavior of the guys, focusing only on the task at hand. Scooby, confused entirely at this point, was sleeping on the front seat.

"I've done some research on the internet, gang." Velma's informational speech began as it usually did, which was calming for everyone. "We're not the first paranormal investigators to be stumped by this place."

That got everyone's attention.

"What do you mean, Velma?" Daphne's voice sounded fragile.

"Five years ago, three members of Ohio Paranormal were called out here to investigate."

The three other members looked on incredulously.

"I'm pulling up the article now… It says here that they were here for two weeks when communication was completely cut off. The police opened a missing persons' report, but their disappearance was never solved."

"Can you tell how long the house has stood here?" It was Fred's voice that was now joining the conversation.

"According to public archives, the house was built in 1842… Here's a copy of the deed…"

The van lulled into a deep silence. No one dared breathe, or even move.

"Shit."

It was very rare for Velma to curse. "Berkshire. The name on the deed is Berkshire."

"Claire?" Daphne was now straining her neck to look at the computer screen.

"No, Robert. Hold on, let me run a search on him… Robert Thomas Berkshire. Born in Georgia in 1809, married Adelaide Rollins in 1828. They had four children… Robert Jr., who died of smallpox at the age of 18 months, Rebekah, Nathaniel, who was killed during the Civil War while fighting for the Confederacy…." Velma's face suddenly went pale.

"And… Like, Velma?" Shaggy had now joined the conversation. "Like, who's the fourth kid?"

There was silence.

"Velma…?" Daphne placed her hand on the brunette's shoulders.

"It's real." Her voice seemed to only make the tension grow more.

"What's real?" Fred was becoming more engaged, moving closer to the rest of the gang.

"All of this. The fourth child. A girl, named Claire."

Velma turned the laptop around for all to see. There, on the screen:

An 1800s picture.

Of their client.