What Could Have Been
Warning: While this story will not be graphic or explicit, there will be mentions of rape, suicide and self harm. There will also be sexual situations, mostly between Fred and Lindsey or Fred and Barbara. The sex is mostly implied rather than detailed and while I wrote these scenes as tastefully as I could, please use your discretion while reading.
Chapter Twelve "It all started with that elastic band..."
"I think we've had enough television for one day."
Muriel snapped off the television, putting an end to the ceaseless, continuous news reports of the approaching meteor, much to Courage's gratitude.
"Courage! Would you like to help me make peanut butter cookies?"
"Uh huh!" Courage nodded, wagging his tail.
Muriel smiled at him.
"It's been awhile since we made peanut butter cookies. And it'll be a nice surprise for when Fred gets home."
Ever since the news reports started saying that the meteor was possibly imminent - the news reporter kept saying possibly imminent, as if he didn't know himself - Eustace begun to stock up on supplies. He would take constant trips to town, sometimes two or three times a day. Sometimes he would have to drive to another town as the other panicked buyers would clear out the store faster than the stores could restock.
On this occasion, Muriel insisted that he take Fred along with him. At first the farmer refused, but Muriel insisted, telling him that not only could Fred help him, but she wanted her nephew to get out of the house.
"It's been awhile since he went into town," She said, "He needs to get out of this stuffy old house."
Because Fred still had not bought a vehicle of his own yet, the amount of times that Fred had went into town had been few and far in between. Because of this, Muriel took him into town whenever she could.
Courage had overheard the freaky barber asking Muriel, "Are you tired of me being here?"
"Oh no, Freddy! I'll never get tired of you! It's just that you don't get out much. You've become such a home body. You're rehabilitated! Surely there must be something that you want to do other than hang around this old farmhouse. I just feel that you ought to get out more, especially now that you're much better!"
Better.
Was Fred better?
Ever since the tumultuous experience with the wolves, Courage had waited for the freaky barber to return to his old ways. He figured that after enough time had passed, Fred would go back to his grinning, toothy, freaky barber self.
Weeks passed.
October seeped into November.
Fred had remained stable. Afloat. Seemingly cheerful. Always polite. A closed lipped smile always fixed on his lips. He would make small talk with Muriel. He kept up with his appearance, often dressing in button up shirts and blazers, favoring jeans, cardigans and sweaters over ties and slacks. Since he started eating more, the olive blazer fit much more snugly to his body, no longer hanging off of him as though he were a scarecrow.
As Christmas approached, Fred pulled Courage aside to ask in an undertone what Muriel would like for a christmas present. Considering that Fred must have bought christmas presents for her many times, considering how long he had known her, Courage realized that Fred must have used this as an excuse to talk to him. He already knew Fred was going to get him a present. He would have been surprised if the freaky barber didn't give him a present.
Christmas day came and went without incident. Even with the freaky barber's presence, it felt like any other christmas day. Eustace grumbled and only smiled whenever he recieved a present, though he outright refused to open Fred's gift until Muriel pestered him into opening it. Courage took this moment to refill his glass of milk, still not having his fill of Muriel's scrumptious cookies.
Fred followed him into the kitchen. At this point, while Courage still didn't care to talk to the freaky barber, being alone with Fred wasn't something that panicked him anymore, especially since Fred had given him no reason to feel panicked.
"Courage?"
He held out a wrapped package.
"Merry Christmas." Fred murmured, adverting his eyes as though he were too shy to look at him. He slid his hands into the pockets of his pajama pants pockets as Courage examined the present.
Judging by how soft and shapeless the package had been, Courage guessed it was some kind of clothing. Peeling back the wrapping paper, he stared at the pair of light blue mittens patterned with snowflakes.
"Aunt Muriel taught me how to knit." Fred murmured, "I've always enjoyed knitting ever since I was a boy. I've never told anyone, of course. I was teased quite a bit when I was younger and if anyone knew that I liked to knit, it would only add fuel to the fire. And..."
He gave a timid chuckle, keeping his eyes lowered.
"It isn't...common for men to knit, so I've always kept it to myself. I haven't knitted for quite sometime, so I am a little rusty. I confess, I had to take apart these mittens and start over several times. The stitches never felt right. But as you can see, I've managed to finish them."
Courage stared at the dark blue snowflakes. It wasn't quite on the level of what Muriel could do. However, if Fred hadn't pointed out that he had knitted them himself, Courage would have assumed that the mittens had been store bought and that the snowflakes had been made by a machine and not by hand.
Courage hated that he felt impressed at Fred's abilities. He reminded himself that just because he had that thought, it didn't mean he liked Fred.
It was then he spotted the folded little piece of paper stuck in between the mittens. He opened it and reread the note written in the freaky barber's barely legible cursive:
"I'm really sorry for what I had done to you, Courage. I'm really really sorry."
Fred stood there, as though he were waiting for Courage to thank him. Courage felt put on the spot. Because it was Christmas, he felt obligated to thank him. But saying thank you would feel as though he were giving in. It would feel like he was opening himself up to Fred. It would look as though he were pushing aside what Fred had done to him. He didn't want to push aside what Fred had done to him even in the slightest way.
Without a word, Courage placed the mittens on the kitchen table. Turning his back to Fred, he busied himself with pouring himself another glass of milk.
"Courage?"
The freaky barber gave him a small smile, his green eyes timid.
"There is something that I wanted to ask you."
He motioned to the dining room.
"Could I speak to you in private?"
"What do you want?" Courage asked as the freaky barber shut the door behind them.
He didn't have the patience for small talk. He just wanted Fred to get to the point.
The freaky barber's smiled faded and he suddenly looked awkward.
"The night that I tried to..."
He paused.
"You followed me. Why?"
He looked at Courage, his green eyes wide and hopeful.
"Because if anything happened to you, then I would have to deal with Muriel being upset."
The freaky barber blinked.
"That's it?"
He looked disappointed.
"If it weren't for Muriel, I would have nothing to do with you."
"So, when you followed me, you only did that for Muriel? You didn't follow me because..."
He paused.
"Because you cared about me at all?"
"No. I already told you I don't like you or care about you. But I care about Muriel. If she's happy, then I'm happy. If she's sad, I'm sad. I can't be happy if Muriel is unhappy. And if anything happened to you-"
Courage shook his head.
"I never want to go through that ever again."
"Go through what again?"
"Watching her lose someone."
He felt Fred flinch.
"So, you don't want her to feel sad because of how it affects you?"
Courage started.
"That's not what I said-"
"You didn't care that she lost her sister. You only cared how it made you feel? I'm sorry to hear that my mother's death was such an inconvenience to you, Courage."
"That is not what I said! You're twisting my words!"
"You just said you didn't want anything to happen to me so you wouldn't have to deal with her losing someone again!"
"I never said anything about your mother, Fred! You're the one putting words in my mouth!"
"Then let me ask you something, Courage."
His voice dropped to a whisper.
"What if Aunt Muriel passed away, will you look after me then?"
Courage hated him for asking this question.
"I would have no reason to."
He hoped this answer hurt him.
"I don't like you, Fred. I never have and I never will. Get over it."
The freaky barber exhaled through his nose.
"Alright then, I will."
Since then, Fred had what Muriel referred to as 'bad days'. These 'bad days' often stretched into bad weeks that sometimes lasted a month.
When he had first arrived several months prior, Fred had kept up with his hygene despite being sick and depressed. This time, he wouldn't bathe at all. He would wear the same clothing until it was longer possible for Courage to be in the same room with Fred without having to hold his breath and cover his nose. Muriel would wait until she thought neither Eustace or Courage were in the vicinity before gently asking Fred if he had showered. Fred would shower, changing into layers upon layers of clean cardigans and sweaters. Then he would live in those same layers of pajamas and cardigans for the next week or so until Muriel gently asked him if he showered.
Walks were a constant for Fred. When there weren't any chores to be done, Fred would go for his walks, spending whatever time he wasn't doing chores or sleeping in bed out of the house. Where he walked to, Fred never said.
Fred would avoid Courage, acting as though Courage didn't even exist.
Acting as though he never liked Courage in the first place.
It made him wonder if Fred actually liked him anymore.
Which begged the question...
Was Fred actually better?
"Oh! There's Eustace!"
Courage glanced out the window as Eustace parked the truck close to the basement door.
The farmer had turned the basement into a makeshift bunker, stocked with food and water intending to get them through the supposedly oncoming apocalypse.
"Oh, I'm sure Fred will be so happy when he sees these peanut butter cookies!" Muriel smiled at Courage.
Courage offered her a gentle smile and tail wag in return.
He didn't like Fred, but there was no point in being antagonistic just for the sake of it.
Especially now since...
He shook his head.
He didn't want to think about it.
According to the freaky barber, there had been talk of the meteor on the news around the time he had moved in.
"I don't remember anything about the meteor on the news!" Courage said.
"I do." Fred remarked, "Though I confess, I didn't think much of it at the time."
Courage recalled the nightmare he had in the cab...
..When he had fallen asleep on the freaky barber's leg.
He then remembered what Computer had said about the subconscious. It hadn't been some sort of prophetic dream, he told himself, his subconscious must have heard it and that's why he dreamed it.
Still, it was strange that he didn't remember anything about it.
His thoughts were thankfully interrupted as Eustace stomped up the basement stairs.
"Oh, Eustace, I'm glad you're back!" Muriel beamed as the farmer burst into the kitchen, "Look! I made peanut butter cookies! Would you like one?"
"What are you doing making peanut butter cookies? There's a meteor heading towards Earth!"
At that moment, the freaky barber emerged from the basement, his eyes lowered. His once crisp and ironed white button up shirt clung to his body, drenched and stanking from exertion and from the heat that broiled outside. His sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his pale wrists adorned with hair ties. He glowered, not bothering to put on a polite smile.
"Oh, Fred dear! Courage and I made you peanut butter cookies! We wanted to surprise you-"
"It's the end of the world and here you are making cookies!" Eustace spat.
"Oh now, then it's the best time to make peanut butter cookies. And if it is the end of the world, then we should enjoy what time we have-"
"Are you out of your mind?" Eustace snapped, "Stupid woman making stupid peanut butter cookies when its the end of the stupid world-"
"Just piss off already."
Everyone looked right at Fred.
Courage felt his tail wag.
"What did you say to me, freak?"
"I said piss off."
Fred hadn't raised his voice, but from the sharp way he spoke, he might as well have.
"Frederick Bertram Burns!" Muriel gasped.
Eustace looked as though he were literally going to explode into a mushroom cloud right then and there.
"You are never to speak to my aunt like that ever again. Do you understand?"
"I want you out of this house right now!" Eustace spat, "Get your things and get out of my house!"
"Eustace! I already told you no one is moving out of this house and that's final!"
"I don't care if there's a meteor heading this way, this freak ain't staying in this house!"
"Eustace, I will have a word with him. The two of you go your separate ways before this gets anymore out of hand! Go on!"
"I ain't leaving until he leaves! I've had it up to here with this freak being in my house!"
"Eustace, if it is true that there's a meteor heading this way, shouldn't you get that shelter ready before it gets here?"
"That stupid freak and that stupid dog. I'm the only one who cares about the stupid end of the stupid world-"
Eustace slammed the basement door shut.
"Now, Frederick," Muriel placed her hands on her hips, "That kind of language is not allowed in this house. You know that." While her tone was gentler, it wasn't any less stern than before.
"Why do you let him talk to you like that?" The freaky barber whispered, his voice a spider's caress, "Aren't you angry that he talks to you like that?"
"Oh, Fred, it can't be helped. He is the way he is."
"I'm sick of the way he talks to you. I won't have it anymore."
"Fred, it is none of your concern."
"Yes, it is. You're my aunt."
"That will do, Fred."
"Aunt Muriel, your own husband shouldn't talk to you like that-"
Muriel held up a finger.
"Not another word, Fred! I know you mean well, but it really isn't any of your concern or your business."
Courage could hear the freaky barber grinding his teeth from behind his closed lips.
"Now, I could use some help making supper if you're willing, Fred dear. Courage, I could use your help too. And-"
She gave them a sly smile.
"If you boys help me, I'll let you two sneak a couple cookies before supper."
The freaky barber exhaled through his nose.
"I could use a shower first." He muttered.
Courage agreed with him on that.
"Wonderful! We'll start as soon as you're done with your shower!"
"I won't be long."
Without a glance at Courage, the freaky barber edged past him.
"I think I will make us a pot of coffee." Muriel murmured, "I could use some perking up."
Muriel began humming. Courage glanced at her, realizing that Muriel was smiling privately to herself. He wondered if the freaky barber's uncharacteristic outburst actually upset her. If her cheery humming and little smiles to herself were any indication, she wasn't the least bit upset. If anything, she looked almost pleased.
Courage's momentary amusement died as soon as the memory of the impending meteor set into his brain once again.
True to his word, it wasn't long before Fred returned, dressed in his olive blazer and freshly laundered jeans, his damp hair tied back. The top buttons of his crisp white shirt undone. The scar splayed over his neck like a faded red stain.
"There you are, Fred dear! Would you like some coffee?"
"Yes, thank you."
As Muriel bustled about pouring coffee into two mugs, Fred gazed at her, snapping the rubber band against his wrist.
Since his hair had grown longer, Fred made a habit of pulling it back with a hairtie. He had a habit of keeping one or several hair ties on his wrist as well, most recently adding a rubber band which he wore just as constantly as his hair ties. He often snapped the hair ties and rubber band against his wrist, something that annoyed even Muriel who often either tuned out or was oblivious to most things that distressed Courage. It was the only thing that caused Muriel to snap at Fred.
The constant slapping of the elastic against Fred's skin made Courage squemish. It sounded as though it hurt. If it did hurt, Fred gave no indication.
"Oh, Fred dear!" Muriel glanced at him, "Could you please stop doing that?"
Fred stopped.
"I still stand by what I said, Aunt Muriel. He shouldn't treat you like that."
"Oh, Fred, I know you mean well. But you don't need to worry about me. I can handle myself very well."
"No husband should talk to their wife like that."
"You would make a wonderful husband, Fred."
Fred looked taken aback.
"You've always been such a gentleman. You'll be a wonderful husband someday when you meet the right girl."
"I doubt that."
"Oh, sure you will. There's someone for everyone."
"No, I-I meant-"
Fred twisted the rubber band around his fingers. Courage clenched his paws, feeling his own circulation being cut off just watching Fred tighten the rubber band around his finger.
"Even if I do meet the right girl, I don't have it in me to be a good husband to her."
Muriel turned to look at Fred.
"Now, why would you say such a thing?"
The freaky barber lowered his eyes, wrapping and stretching the hair ties around his fingers.
"I just know myself too well."
"Do you want to get married, Fred dear?"
The freaky barber sighed, keeping his eyes lowered.
"More than anything."
"Well, there you have it."
Fred shook his head.
"When Dad proposed to Mum, my great grandmother and my great aunts pulled Mum aside and said to her, So, you managed to catch the Raven, did you? How did you do it? She said, I didn't do anything. They said The Raven has never settled for any girl. What spell have you cast over him? Mum said, I didn't cast any spell over him. He just came to me."
Fred's eyes were wide and dissociative. His tone faraway.
Muriel sighed.
"Ah yes, I remember that story. Your mother always loved telling that story."
Fred closed his eyes.
"Mum told me that when someone loves you, they will come to you of their own accord. They will fly onto your outstretched hands and they will be content to stay there."
Muriel gave a warm chuckle.
"Yes, your father was very content to sit in your mother's hands, Fred dear. And they loved you very much. You were made with much love and..." She giggled, "With much effort from what I've heard."
Courage made a face.
Fred cleared his throat.
"Love has flown into my hands. And I chased it away. And I know-"
He gave a shuddering sigh.
"If love ever flies into my hands again, I know will chase it away again. I just know myself too well, Aunt Muriel. I'm not like my father."
The freaky barber chuckled.
"I'm nothing like my father."
Muriel placed her hands on the freaky barber's shoulders.
"Of course not, Fred dear. You're you."
The freaky barber looked at her, startled.
"You're still very young. There's still time to find the right girl."
Fred gave a watery chuckle.
"I wouldn't call forty nine young, Aunt Muriel."
Muriel touched his scarred cheek.
"You're going to be fifty next year, Fred dear. Can you imagine that?"
She held the freaky barber's face in her hands.
"Your mother told me when your father passed away, she thought-"
She paused.
"She worried the shock of losing him would kill you."
Fred swallowed.
Muriel pulled the freaky barber into a tight hug.
Fred didn't return the hug.
"She wouldn't let herself cry or grieve for your father until after you were born. All she could think of was making sure you were born. And just think, Fred dear, you're going to turn fifty next year! Oh, I wish I could go back in time and tell her all her worries had been for nothing. She worried about you so much, Fred dear."
Fred kept his eyes squeezed shut as Muriel drew back to look at him.
"My point is..."
He looked at her, his green eyes wide and beseeching, as though pleading with her to understand.
"I'm not a good spouse-"
He shook his head.
"I know I won't be a good spouse. That's why I'm not like my father. He was a good man. I'm-"
He swallowed.
"I'm not a good person. I wasn't a good boyfriend to my last girlfriend."
Muriel touched Fred's scarred cheek.
"You are a good person."
Fred shook his head.
"And even if you aren't a good person, you can still do good things."
Courage started, his ears perking up.
"With all your imperfections, you can do anything."
He shook his head.
That was different.
There was a difference between being imperfect and...
Well.
Fred.
"Your life isn't over, Fred dear." Muriel whispered, giving Fred's shoulder a gentle pat, "As long as you're alive, there's still time to find the right girl."
Muriel gave Courage a gentle smile.
"Courage, could you please help Fred cut up the vegetables? Why, Fred! Isn't that my coffee?"
The freaky barber glanced at her sheepishly.
"Sorry. Wrong cup."
"That's alright, Freddy, you have nothing catching."
Fred then took a sip of his own mug, placing it on the kitchen table.
Courage couldn't understand how they can talk about Fred getting married or having time to find a girl when the news had told them that a meteor might hit the Earth. Again, might was often emphasized as if the news reporters didn't know themselves.
Fred's attitude towards all of this interested him the most. He hadn't seen the freaky barber stowing away food or water or doing anything to prepare for the supposedly oncoming meteor. If anything, Fred seemed indifferent towards the whole situation. Given what the freaky barber had attempted to do over a year ago, it shouldn't have surprised him that Fred wasn't afraid of the meteor.
For the sake of Muriel's sanity, and his own sanity, Courage had tasked himself with keeping an eye on the freaky barber especially in cases where the barber might slide back into wanting to hurt himself.
From past experiences, Courage knew that Eustace would be of no help if disaster struck. And as much as Courage didn't like the freaky barber, he was certain that Fred would help him if Muriel were in any kind of danger.
"Fred, why did you pour my coffee out?"
"I thought this was my coffee. Forgive me. I'll pour you another cup, Aunt Muriel."
"Oh, that's alright and thank you, Freddy."
Courage glanced at the freaky barber's green coffee mug that sat half full beside the cutting board where Fred had been busy cutting up carrots. Fred always drank from that particular green mug and, because of that, Courage avoided drinking out of it. He didn't want to drink from anything that the freaky barber had touched with his mouth, no matter how many times it had gone through the dish washer.
"What's wrong, Fred?"
"There was a speck in the sugar."
The freaky barber rinsed his fingers.
"Oh, I'm sure it's nothing to worry about."
Fred dipped a spoon into the milky coffee.
"It has enough sugar." He said, licking the spoon and taking another sip before handing the mug to Muriel.
It had been one of those dreams where Courage felt too afraid to open his eyes. Even though he was awake, Courage kept his eyes closed and held as still as possible, scared that if he moved at all, the horror of the dream would explode all around him. He decided that once the horror dream subsided, he would go upstairs and talk to Computer. He listened to Muriel's breathing to remind himself that everything was fine. Ever since Eustace started stowing away food and water, the farmer had started sleeping in the basement in case the meteor hit the Earth in the middle of the night.
Courage felt for the edge of the bed and slid to the floor. Keeping his eyes closed, scared that he will see what he saw in his dream right before his very eyes, Courage felt his way to the attic. He opened his eyes, seeing the light spilling from beneath the closed attic door. Realizing who might be in the attic, he knocked on the door before gently opening it a crack.
Sure enough, Fred sat in the chair, his back turned to him. Courage could hear loud hisses of music from his headphones.
"Ah, how nice of you to drop by." Computer drawled.
Courage watched the freaky barber who still hadn't moved.
"I failed to mention this before but he blasts his music quite often. He keeps the volume on max whenever he has his headphones on. Clearly, he doesn't care how that may affect his ears. He really is the teenaged son that your owners never had."
Fred continued to stare out the window as though Courage weren't there at all.
"Watch this." Computer chuckled, and then in an exaggerated tone said, "Why, how nice of you to drop by, Courage."
Fred lifted his head at once and glanced over his shoulder.
"Courage!" He took his headphones off. He closed his journal and taking hold of the mouse, clicked several times until the hisses of music ceased.
"Excellent hearing." Computer drawled, "Or should I say, excellent selective hearing."
"What do you mean?" Fred glanced at the monitor.
"Oh, never mind. Nothing to worry about."
With a suspicious glance at Computer, Fred turned his attention to Courage, his gaze softening.
"Do you need to use the computer?"
"Well, excuse me, I'm right here, you know." Computer huffed, "'Do you need to use the computer?' Honestly! What am I? A tool?"
Courage couldn't help himself.
"Uh, technically?"
"Well, isn't that just dandy? I've proven that I'm sentient and yet you two twits still think of me as a tool just because I happen to be an inanimate object!"
"I've seen you walk around," Courage smirked, "You're not quite an inanimate object."
"Forgive me." Fred murmured, "That was rather insensitive of me."
"Don't waste your breath." Courage muttered, "He's just looking for an excuse to complain."
"Do you wish to be alone?" Fred begun to wind up his headphone cords, "Do you want me to leave? I wasn't doing anything important." He held up the dark blue journal, "I'm just journaling. I'll go downstairs and write."
That's when Courage noticed the bottle of aspirin on the desk.
"Do you have a headache?"
"Yes, I woke up with a rather frightful headache and I couldn't get back to sleep-"
"Frightful? Really?"
Computer made a noise as though he were rolling his nonexistent eyes.
"Honestly, how sterotypically prim and proper and hoity toity can you get?"
"This is how I talk, in case you haven't noticed."
"Oh, I have. And quite frankly, it's hard for me to take you seriously when you talk like that. It's so pretentious."
"Well, in that case, it's been a pleasure talking with you two gentleman. And now, if you'll pardon me, I think it is high time that I take my leave."
"Ha. Ha. Ha."
Courage wrung his paws. He did want to talk to Fred. After supper, Fred had gone on another of his long walks and Courage had fallen asleep on Muriel's lap waiting for the freaky barber to return. Even though this was an oppurtune time to talk to Fred, Courage still felt shaken by his nightmare and wanted to sit in the comforting lamplight and talk with Computer until he felt better. Furthermore, he wasn't sure how comfortable Fred was talking about certain things in front of Computer.
"I'm going to make myself a cup of ginger tea." Fred glanced at Courage, "Would you like a cup, Courage?"
"No thanks." Courage mumbled, "I'm good."
He paused.
"Fred-"
Fred turned at once, all ears.
"How much asprin did you take?"
"Three aspirin, Courage."
"And are you good? Are your thoughts...good?"
"I'm in a good place, Courage. I am unsettled by this whole meteor situation. But otherwise, I'm in a good place." The freaky barber gave him a gentle closed lipped smile, "Thank you for asking, Courage."
"Don't mention it."
Fred's green eyes softened.
"Well, if I don't see you again before I fall asleep, good night, Courage. Sweet dreams."
"Take it easy."
"Good night, Computer."
"Don't let the meteorites bite."
The freaky barber chuckled.
"Meteorite bite." Courage heard Fred murmur as he closed the attic door.
"Well, what was that all about?"
"What?" Courage asked, placing the bucket back onto the chair and climbing onto it.
"Since when did you two start acting all buddy buddy towards each other?"
"I wasn't-"
Courage stopped, reminding himself that Computer was most likely just trying to get a rise out of him.
"I just wanted to make sure he isn't you know-"
He glanced at the closed attic door.
"Suicidal or something. I'm looking after him for Muriel's sake, not his."
"How very touching."
"In case the meteor hits the Earth, I'll need his help to protect Muriel-"
"It won't hit the Earth."
Courage started, hopeful.
"What?"
"There isn't any meteor."
"How do you know?"
The anxiety that plagued him since the news reports about the meteor started, the anxiety that caused him to slump to the floor in sheer fright, finally weakened. That beautiful realization that all his fears were unfounded was, in Courage's opinion, among the sweetest feelings in all the world-
"We're in a simulation."
And just like that, his anxiety returned. His skin prickled. He felt as though he were going to die.
"You've been living in a simulation all along. You're not real. I'm not real. Nothing is real."
Courage gave him a look.
"That's just silly."
"So, goose gods aren't silly. Alien ducks aren't silly. The fact that the sun is powered by a single bulb isn't silly. But being in a simulation is?"
"Yes. Yes it is."
This whole situation with the meteor was already stressful enough. The idea that Muriel wasn't real or that everything that he had ever known wasn't real was too horrifying to even think about. He didn't want his mind to even go there.
"Ah well, perhaps it's for the best." Computer murmured in an exaggeratedly pensive tone, "You know what they say 'Ignorance is bliss' and all that."
"I have enough worries as it is! I don't have time for this simulation crap!"
"And apparently neither does that freak. I've tried telling him several times, but he just puts on his headphones and blasts his music. Honestly, am I the only one around here who finds all of this completely fascinating? You flesh creatures are such wimps. Then again, I'm not surprised. You've always been a complete wimp. But I would think that a freak like him would be a bit more open minded-"
"Computer-"
"Alright. Alright. We don't live in a simulation. Happy? Concerning the meteor hitting the earth, I've got good news and bad news. Which do you want to hear first?"
"The bad news."
"Well, for starters, it isn't likely that you will survive the meteor hitting the earth, especially not in that basement of yours. It isn't deep enough into the ground to be safe from the shock and fire wave of the meteor. And, if you do survive the meteor hitting the Earth, you're still toast, to put it lightly. First off, you will literally be toast. It isn't likely that you can withstand the heat even if you aren't caught on fire."
Courage supressed a whine.
"The good news is that if a meteor hits the Earth, there is a chance you might get vaporized before you realize what is happening. Possibly. Maybe. And on the bright side, with the extreme heat and fire, you won't suffer for very long. Hopefully. Maybe. Theoretically. Does that make you feel better?"
Courage slid off the chair.
"I need to use the bathroom."
If someone had told him a year ago that he would leave Computer to talk to Fred, because talking to the freaky barber would feel less stressful than talking to Computer, Courage would have begun to wonder if he really were in a simulation.
"Courage!"
Fred crumpled up what looked to be a tea bag wrapper. He attempted to toss it into the garbage. It hit the side of the garbage bin and onto the floor.
"On second thought, I think I will have some tea." Courage said, "But not ginger. I'm not in the mood for ginger."
"I'm sure Aunt Muriel has plenty of teas to choose from." Fred murmured, his voice light as though he were attempting to make small talk. He rummaged through the boxes that threatened to burst out of the cupboard, "What kind of tea would you like?"
"I don't know. I haven't drunk tea in awhile."
Courage couldn't really think what kind of tea he would want. He didn't really come down here specifically to drink tea.
"Do you like lemon tea?" Fred held up a box which still had the plastic wrapping on it.
"Lemon's fine."
"Do you-" Fred glanced at him, "Do you wish to fix your tea yourself? I understand if you would prefer to do it yourself. If you have a particular way of doing things..."
Fred's attempt at being gentle sometimes unnerved him almost as much as how he had acted in the bathroom. It reminded Courage of how someone would talk to a cornered, scared animal. The gentleness that the freaky barber would inject into his tone. The deliberate way he moved, as though he were trying not to make any sudden movements. As though he were trying to look as harmless as possible. It made Courage uncomfortable.
Ironically, the only time Courage didn't feel on edge around Fred was when the freaky barber was pissed off.
When he didn't bother to act formal.
When he acted like a normal person.
"What are your thoughts on this whole meteor situation?" Courage asked, "I noticed you haven't stowed away food or water."
He wasn't accusing Fred, he just wanted to guage where the freaky barber stood in all of this.
"You and Muriel don't seem to be all that concerned about the meteor. Muriel doesn't seem to think it's going to happen."
The freaky barber sighed.
"I'm afraid my thoughts about this whole situation are...grim, to say the least."
"Are you suicidal at all?" Courage decided to cut right to the chase.
Fred looked startled.
"Why are you asking me that question?"
"Is that why you aren't preparing for it?"
"I don't wish to sound grim, Courage, but I don't believe that it is likely that we will survive this."
He swallowed.
"Even if we do manage to survive the meteor hitting the Earth, and if the heat and the fire doesn't kill us, we will still die from starvation and dehydration. Food will run out eventually, as will the water. They have seeds in the basement and we may be able to grow food. However, even if we are able to replenish the seeds from the food we have grown, it will still run out eventually. I believe it is more likely that we will die of dehydration before we die of starvation. If we run out of water, we're dead. So, if the fire and the heat and starvation doesn't kill us, dehydration will kill us."
The tea kettle whistle seared Courage's already frayed nerves. The freaky barber quickly took the kettle off the burner, cutting short the awful screech.
"Perhaps," The freaky barber murmured, "Aunt Muriel realizes this and perhaps that's why she's not bothering to prepare for it."
Fred glanced at him.
"Do you wish to fix your own tea?" He handed Courage the still plastic wrapped box.
"You can make it if you want." Courage said, still taking in everything Fred had said, the fact that Fred was going to fix his tea the least of his concerns.
That made him start.
A year ago if someone were to tell him that he would let the freaky barber fix him a cup of tea, Courage wouldn't have believed them. Never. Not in a million years. He had been certain that any food or drink that the freaky barber made for him would be spiked with something that would put him to sleep or drug him in some way that he couldn't fight back or escape if he needed to.
"Maybe Computer is right. Maybe we are in a simulation."
The freaky barber chuckled.
"As if I wasn't suicidal enough..."
Courage looked at him startled.
He met Courage's eyes.
"Don't worry, I'm not going to kill myself.
Fred crumpled a wrapped tea bag and tossed it into the garbage.
"I avoid thinking about that stuff for the sake of my mental health."
He crumpled another wrapped tea bag and tossed it into the garbage.
"What was wrong with that teabag?" Courage asked.
"There was a spot on the wrapper."
"Actually, on second thought, I think I'd rather fix my own tea."
Courage got his own mug from the cupboard. Then he took out a teabag from the box of lemon tea and studied the wrapper.
That's when he spotted it.
A noticeable dark spot right on the flap of the tea wrapper.
"That's an ink spot." Courage said, "When they made it in the factory and the printer might have messed up and made ink spatters. Like when how the printer messes up and theres ink spots on the paper. It's the same ink as they used to make the lettering and stuff..."
Out of curiosity, Courage looked through the rest of the tea bags to see if all of them had ink spatters. He found one that didn't. He gazed at the smooth, unblemished wrapper, which felt easier on the eyes and on the mind than the other wrappers with dark spots on the flaps.
Deciding that he would prefer to use the teabag without any spots, he handed the mug to the freaky barber. He watched Fred pour water into their mugs.
"So," Courage began as they seated themselves at the kitchen table, "What are you going to do if the meteor hits the Earth? I'm asking because I will need your help looking after Muriel if the meteor does hit the Earth."
The freaky barber closed his eyes.
"Even if we did managed to survive, the Earth will just be a charred, darkened place. The animals. The trees. The birds. The blue sky. The grass. The woods. All of that will be gone forever. What would be the point of living if everything beautiful on this Earth is gone forever? And what would our lives be, Courage? The four of us huddled in a dark basement, waiting until the last of the food and water runs out, with nothing left to look forward to? What kind of life is that?"
The four of us.
Computer.
Computer would be the first to go.
The shockwave alone would most likely wipe out his circuits before the heat and the fire got to him.
Guilt twisted Courage's heart. He had avoided Computer since the news reports about the meteor had started. He avoided him, scared that Computer would tell him what he had been too afraid to hear. All that time he spent avoiding him, he could have spent that time with his friend.
"I would rather focus on spending as much time with Aunt Muriel as I can. I will do whatever she does. If she decides to go into the basement, I will go into the basement with her. If she doesn't want to go into the basement-"
Fred paused.
"I will stay with her."
Anger bubbled in Courage's gut.
"If a meteor's going to hit the Earth, then she's going into the basement. I'm not going to stand there and let her die."
"Courage, the basement might not save her. And perhaps she already knows that."
"We're not suicidal like you!"
Fred looked as though Courage had struck him across the face.
"We're not insane like you!"
Courage decided that he didn't care if he was crossing a line. What Fred had said pissed him off.
"I think you're just looking for an excuse to die."
Rage flickered across the freaky barber's face.
"I beg your pardon?"
"I think you're just looking for an excuse to kill yourself. You don't care about Muriel! If you cared about her, you wouldn't-"
"I care about her more than my own life!"
"If you cared about her, you wouldn't let her die! You wouldn't even think of letting her die! You would do everything you can to save her-"
"And what? Watch her die right in front of me? If we hide in the basement, there's a chance I will watch her die right in front of me. If we stay here when the meteor strikes, at least we'll be together. We won't have to lose each other-"
He stopped.
"I can't bear the thought of watching her die, Courage. I can't."
Courage held his eyes.
"I know how you feel. The thought of losing her scares me more than anything. But I just know that when the time comes, I will do whatever it takes to save her. And I guess what I'm asking is that you help me when that time comes."
As the freaky barber busied himself with stirring honey into the mug of lemon tea, Courage saw him brush under his eye with his fingertip.
"If-if anything happens to her, I have nothing left."
Tears suddenly welled in Courage's eyes without warning. He pressed the back of his paw against his eye, determined not to cry.
"I won't have anything either." He said, grateful that his voice didn't waver, "That's why we have to do whatever it takes to save her-"
Courage started as the freaky barber brought the mug to his lips and sipped his tea.
"Hey, that's my cup!"
"Forgive me. I thought this was mine."
Courage stared at him as the freaky barber placed the steaming, lemony smelling mug in front of him. From where he sat, Courage could smell the strong and distinctly ginger tea wafting from Fred's mug. There was no way that the barber could mistake the lemon tea for his tea.
"Did you drink my tea on purpose?"
Courage could feel Fred steel himself.
"No."
"This is the third time you did this. You kept drinking Muriel's coffee earlier today."
"I didn't drink your tea on purpose, Courage. I wasn't paying attention. I was distracted by our conversation-"
Something inside Courage snapped.
"What the heck's wrong with you? Why are you acting so weird?"
"I'm not-"
"You're not acting like yourself!"
"I-I don't know what you mean."
Fred avoided his eyes.
Courage glanced at the crumpled tea bag wrapper on the ground. Because it was bugging him, he went over to throw it away. He then stopped short.
Staring into the garbage can, he saw what looked to be many, many crumpled unopened tea bags. Perfectly good unopened, unused teabags. All thrown away. He glanced at the empty discarded ginger tea box. He recalled Fred placing that very same tea box into the cupboard while they were cooking dinner.
"Aunt Muriel, I bought more ginger tea!"
"Oh, why thank you, Fred! I knew we had run out! You think of everything, Fred dear!"
Fred threw away a bunch of perfectly good, unopened tea bags. And given how much panic buying there had been, for all he knew, Fred may never be able to buy ginger tea again. It was all in the garbage. Thrown away. Wasted.
What's going on? Courage thought.
"On second thought, I don't think I want any tea. You can have it."
Without waiting for Fred to respond, Courage hurried out of the kitchen.
"It all started with that elastic band
Thoughts of the end I could no longer stand
However, if I did all that my thoughts command
Then perhaps I can alter the course of..."