What Could Have Been

Chapter Twenty "The blood is draining from my brain..."


"Fred dear," Muriel smiled as he shuffled into the kitchen, "I heard you were sick in the bathroom. Is everything alright, dearest?"

"Just an upset stomach. Nothing you need to worry about, Aunt Muriel."

"I've got just the thing." Muriel flashed him a warm smile before handing him a cup, "I made you some ginger tea. Just the thing for an upset stomach."

Taking the cooled tea cup, Fred promptly gulped down the lukewarm tea.

"I'll fix you another cup, Fred dear. I'll have a cup myself."

Fred seated himself at the table as Muriel happily bustled about, setting up their tea cups and placing a filled kettle on the stove. The rain outside made the warm kitchen even cozier and despite the warmth and the quiet, he couldn't relax. It felt as though the world were ending. It felt as though he were about to die. His insides and the bottom of his spine kept seizing up as they had been for the last several weeks.

"Aunt Muriel?"

"Yes, dear?"

"Why don't you talk about Mum anymore?"

Muriel's face fell gently.

"It's just that...you haven't spoken about her since..."

Fred swallowed.

"Since the meteor."

"Oh well..you always seemed upset whenever I bring her up..."

Muriel trailed off as though she didn't know how to finish her thought.

"I wish you would talk about her more..." Fred whispered, "I miss listening to you talk about her-"

His throat suddenly tightened, as did his tear ducts. He pressed his eyes shut, determined not to cry or to show any excessive emotion. He didn't want to cry. He didn't want to be comforted. He just wanted to get out what he needed to get out.

"...I don't hate her, Aunt Muriel."

And already he was failing.

He had to sniffle.

"I never hated her."

He couldn't say that without his throat tightening.

"But I am angry at her. I'm angry at her for..."

He glanced around, listening. Eustace wasn't back yet and he doubted the farmer would even care if he overheard him. He couldn't hear any other movement in the house that indicated Courage was close by. And even if Courage overheard, did it really matter?

"...For what Crane did. And..."

He swallowed.

"For having sex in front of me. I-"

He paused.

"I can't forgive her. I can't. I'm just too angry."

"I'm angry with her myself." Muriel said, her tone gentle, though her face deepened to a frown, "I'm angry at her for what he did to you sexually."

Fred started.

"But he -he never-"

He paused, wanting to set the record straight.

"He never..."

He dropped his voice to a whisper.

"...Sexually abused me. I would've remembered if he had..."

He couldn't help but give a sardonic chuckle.

"I suppose that was one of the good things about Crane. He hated me so much that he would never do such a thing to me."

Muriel exhaled through her nose.

"Your mother was partially to blame for what happened to you. And because of that, I can't forgive her. I'll always love her. She's my sister and I'll always love her, but I will never forgive her for what happened to you and..."

Fred thought he heard a noise just outside the kitchen, glancing towards the living room. He saw no one.

"...You don't have to forgive her for what she did to you, Fred dearest. Forgiveness must come from the heart, otherwise it's not real forgiveness. You can say you forgive someone, but if it doesn't come from the heart, then it's not real forgiveness, and thats how resentment grows. I say it's best not to forgive at all if you can't bring yourself to forgive someone."

It felt as though a light bulb had went off inside of his body.

"You are allowed to be angry at her and you certainly don't have to forgive her for what happened, Fred."

And just like that, all the pieces seemed to fall together in his mind.

"Ah! There you are, Courage!"


Courage's heart twinged, Muriel's warmth absent from her voice and he wasn't able to get used to it.

Fred turned and their eyes met, winter hat pulled over his head and it took Courage a moment to register the fact that Fred's eyebrows were completely gone. Glancing him over, there was no sign of his hair at all.

Fred had never shaved his eyebrows in all the time he had been here.

Regardless of whether he was allowed to do so now that he was rehabilitated, the fact that he had shaved his eyebrows and cut his hair at all could only mean bad news. Just the fact that he could shave or cut his hair at all set off every alarm bell in his body.

"We need to talk in the attic right now."

"Aunt Muriel? Is it alright if I go play with Courage?"

"Of course!" There was the warmth Courage sorely missed, "Run along!"

Courage hurried upstairs, stopping only to make sure that Fred was following him before rushing into the attic and plopped himself on the chair, heart pounding as he waited, watching the attic door.

Fred held his eyes as he stepped into the attic, closing the door behind him.

"I knew you weren't rehabilitated." Courage said as Fred moved closer to him, "I knew from the second you were let out that you weren't rehabilitated."

"Are you going to tell anyone?"

"No." Courage glowered at him, "For Muriel's sake, I won't tell anyone. But we are going to talk about this."

Courage glanced at Fred's left arm and sniffed. He thought he smelled blood, though it was hard to tell because of the duffle coat smell.

"What's wrong with your arm?"

"It's none of your business."

Courage looked at him, taken aback.

"Fine. Sheesh." Deciding that he didn't care, he went on, "I buried all of the razors and scissors before you came here." Courage glared at Fred, "So, you had scissors and razors on you the whole time?"

"Not the entire time I was here." Fred murmured.

"Where did you get them?"

"From Lindsey."

Fred chuckled.

"I'm surprised that she hadn't ratted me out. I expected her to, but she hasn't. Perhaps she doesn't know that I took them and if she had, she hasn't breathed a word to anyone."

"I don't understand what these women see in you." Computer drawled, "Were you charming I suppose I could understand, but seeing that you are, well...you, I don't understand why these women insist on defending you. It must be the deep voice. It's got to be the deep voice-"

"I want those razors and the scissors." Courage snapped.

"They're right here." Fred patted his side.

"Give them to me. Right now."

He had expected the freaky barber to balk, to stall, to make excuses. Instead, Fred promptly unbuttoned his duffle coat and slipping it off, tossed it at Courage's feet. The sudden blood smell made him feel squeamish.

"Search it your damned self." Fred snarled.

"Well, someone's in a bad mood." Computer said.

"So, there you have it." Fred glared at Courage, "You caught me. What are you going to do about it?"

"That's what we're going to talk about." Courage said, taking hold of the duffle coat.

Holding his breath and turning his head every so often to take in air, he fished out every item that he could find from every pocket. The taped pages crinkled as he set the familair dark blue journal on the floor, placing the nondescript music box atop of it, as well as a box of cigarettes and a lighter.

"So, you lied to Lindsey about not smoking."

"I never lied to her about that." Fred scratched at the scar on his neck, "I started smoking shortly after she offered me the first time. I suppose you haven't seen that particular memory." Sarcasm dripped from his voice.

He let out an angry laugh and began to pace around the attic.

"In the graveyard, Barbara said if I loved her, I never would have shaved her. If shaving her meant that I never loved her..."

He grinned.

"I've never shaved Lindsey or cut her hair. I've never touched one hair on her head or forced myself onto her. If that's what loves means..."

He let out an angry laugh.

"There are times I'm with her and I can't physically stand her. But if love means that I have never shaved her, then that means Lindsey is the only woman on this earth that I have ever loved, perhaps the only person on this earth I've ever truly loved..."

"If you can't physically stand her, then why did you sleep with her?"

Fred looked him in the eyes.

Courage hated that he already knew the answer.

Seeing as he wasn't a girl himself, Courage realized that he would never understand why a woman would choose to sleep with someone that she couldn't stand. And part of him fervently hoped that it was the same for women as it was for men.

Just so he didn't have to acknowledge the fact that he could wrap his brain around why Fred, as a man, would sleep with someone he didn't like.

As though this dark knowledge were an inherent part of being a male.

He didn't want to believe he had the same darkness that Fred had in any way, even on the most primal, cave man-cave dog level.

Picking up the scissors and razor, he climbed onto the chair, placed them alongside the keyboard, watching as Fred knelt, gathering up his possessions.

"So, what's stopping you from destroying the world again?" Courage asked, "Is this something we're going to have to worry about?"

"I imagine if the government ever found out that you were the one who created the meteor, they would lock you up immediately." Computer drawled, "I dare say they might try and vivisect you to study you. You know how the government works. They wouldn't pass up the chance to vivisect a demigod."

"What did you say?" Fred hissed, his green eyes incredulous.

"Computer's convinced you're a demigod." Courage rolled his eyes.

"Nonsense!" Fred drew himself up, pulling on his duffle coat, "I'm no such thing!"

"Then how do you explain the meteor?" Computer asked.

"I'm not a god and I refuse to entertain such a notion!"

"Most human beings aren't capable of creating a meteor out of thin air." Computer retorted.

"Humans are capable of psychic powers, are they not?"

"This goes way beyond psychic abilities-"

"We use only a small portion of our brains, correct? If it's true that we use only a small portion of our brains, whats the rest for? Who is to say we cannot create meteors out of thin air?"

"I think you're just grasping at straws at this point." Computer said.

"We use only a small amount of our brain cells, how on earth are we supposed to know what we're capable of?"

"I'm siding with Fred on this one." Courage said, "I don't think you are a god and I refuse to believe that you are a god."

"As you should!" Fred spat, "It's nonsense! And besides, gods are supposed to be able to wield their powers! I've never been able to wield or control anything that has happened thus far!"

"Then would you two love birds mind explaining to me exactly how he stopped it?"

"That's what I want to know." Courage looked at Fred, "How did you stop it?"

"You will not like my answer." Fred murmured.

"I'm listening." Courage said.

Fred rubbed at the scar on his neck.

"In short, my guilt makes my thoughts more powerful. The less guilt I feel, the less powerful they are. That's the reason why none of this had happened before..."

Fred lifted his head, his green eyes taking physical hold of his.

"I hope you realize that none of this was my intention." Fred whispered, his voice devoid of emotion, "I would never hurt Muriel."

"I believe that." Courage said.

"Which means," Computer murmured, "As long as you're alive, there's a chance that the world will be destroyed."

Fred swallowed.

"In that case, it seems that I have no other choice."

With that, his robotic arms appeared.

"What are you doing?" Courage started.

"The only way to stop him is if I take over his body until the day he dies. It's the only way to ensure that the world is safe-"


It had rained incessantly for the past several weeks, this having been the first clear day in almost a month. Puffy clouds drifted lazily in the crystal aquamarine afternoon sky. The world around him bloomed, adorned with many glowing flowers. Crimson roses. Snow white morning glory. Sunny buttercups that had glowed brightly when the sunlight touched them. There had been several other flowers that Fred didn't know the names of, but they had glowed beautifully all the same.

Though it had been the middle of June, the temperature had been cool enough that he had to wear his duffle coat and winter hat outdoors. Sunlight streamed through the branches of the maple tree above them, dripping off the tree branches along with the raindrops, which had resided there since the downpour the previous night.

The rain had been truly needed. Nowhere had suffered a merciless drought for several years. He couldn't recall a time where there had been this much rain.

"You have the most piercing eyes I've ever seen on a human being, Fred." Enid whispered, "Look at me."

Another swallow caused his skin to dig deeper against the scissors.

Her irises were darker than ink.

"I can feel your eyes in my stomach. I've never seen anyone with piercing eyes like you. Keep looking at me..."

A soft, wordless noise escaped her throat and she stifled herself with Fred's mouth. She then picked up the pace, so much so that Fred couldn't return her kiss.

This is what Courage felt.

His exact thought.

This is what Courage felt.

Over and over.

This is what Courage felt.

"You're the man I want to be with, Fred..."

Grinning as much as he could around the building pleasure, Fred pushed his foot into the gravel.

"You're the kind of man I want..."

"Alright, you two! Party's over, break it up-"

"She's got scissors. She's got scissors-"

The pain hadn't registered when she had stabbed him in the neck. Only when she had stabbed his thigh, the meat attaching itself to and sliding along the knife pain, did he push her to the ground, his instincts working faster than him.


Courage leaped at his friends monitor faster than his brain had caught up with him.

"Courage-" Computer said, sounding more annoyed than startled, "What are you doing? I can't see a thing-"

He felt at his friends side until his paws brushed against the off switch.

"Dog? What are you-"

His voice suddenly died as Courage flipped the switch and before he knew it, he had fallen to the floor, his friend crashing on top of him.

"Courage!"

Courage let out a moan as he felt the freaky barber hoist the weight of his friend off of him. He hit Fred's attempts to help him up.

"Get off of me!" He snapped, hitting Fred as hard as he could.

Gazing at the off switch and the darkened monitor of his friend. Thoughts of what this meant rushed through his head, of whether or not he could turn on the off switch ever again, unsure of how he could keep Computer from going after the freaky barber again-

"Courage-"

"Don't-" Courage hit him with all of his might, "Don't get any ideas-"

No matter how hard he hit him or how much he hit him, it would never satisfy him.

"I hate you- I hate you-"

"Yeah? Then why'd you stop him? If you hate me that much, why'd you stop him?"

He hated the hope that glimmered in the freaky barber's eyes.

"Because it wouldn't make me feel better. There isn't anything that could happen to you that would make me feel better."

The blood smell and Fred's close proximity made him nauseous.

"And even if it did make me feel better, I wouldn't let him take you over. I'm tired of seeing your face, smelling your smell and I'd have to listen to Muriel's complaints and worries for the rest of time-"

The glare returned to the freaky barber's eyes, no trace of a smile.

"You act like this place has been your home far longer than it has been mine..."

Fred rose to his feet.

"In the graveyard, you told me that Muriel was your home, but she's my home too. She's been my home since I was born."

"You can keep your home then." Courage stood up, "You can keep Muriel. I'm leaving. I'm done with you and I'm done with her."

"Courage-"

Fred suddenly clamped a hand over his mouth, vomit spurting through his fingers.


He lit her cigarette before lighting his own, having rolled up his sleeves, securing them at his elbows.

"I don't mind if you wish to meet up for coffee. But I don't want to have sex."

"Do you like someone else?"

"Even if I did," And he knew full well that he would feel different if Barbara were to take him back, "I don't wish to be touched right now."

"Because she stabbed you?"

"I don't want to talk about that."

"Oh look! A wedding!"

He gazed at the wedding attendees all dressed in pale sand white, clapping and cheering as the bride and the groom walked down the aisle.

"I just wanted to say," Lindsey's voice faraway, "I've always felt safe doing certain things with you-"

Her bridal veil just as long as her hair had been, the ends of her tresses scarcely touched her shoulders.

"I wouldn't feel comfortable doing freaky stuff with other guys-"

Her delicate hand clasped in the groom's.

"I'm scared they'll try to do something weird like hold my head down or pin me against the bed-"

Blonde hair. Olive complexion. Green eyes. Grinning away.

"But with you, I know nothing bad will happen to me."

He couldn't help but laugh.


He found his owner and the freaky barber on the floor beside the toilet. Fred slumped against the side of the tub as Muriel fervidly unbuttoned his cardigan, his left hand stained with blood.

"Oh my-" Muriel gasped, "What happened to your arm?"

Courage clamped his paws over his nose as Muriel tugged down Fred's blood soaked sleeve. The sight of his bloodied bandage made him want to hurl.

"What did you do?" She shrieked in a voice that Courage had never heard from her.

Fred pressed his hand over his pale face.

"You can't do this to me."

Muriel sounded almost detached.

"You can't do this to me, Fred."

She helped him to his feet.

"Get up - get on your feet-"

She draped his arm over her shoulder and Fred held his bloodied arm against his chest.

"You stupid, stupid boy-"

She brushed past Courage without a glance at him.

Seating himself on the stairs, Courage watched as Muriel dialed a familiar number as Fred slumped against the back of the red chair.

"What's that stupid freak doing in my chair-"

"Eustace!" Muriel rounded on her husband with a voice that terrified Courage, "If you're not going to help me, then stay out of the way! Just get out of here and don't ever come back!"

"Eh? What did I do?"

"Hello? Miss? I live at the Bagge Farm in the middle of Nowhere. My nephew cut himself. I think he's been bleeding for over an hour. I saw him before he took his shower and he wasn't bleeding then-"


She had offered him a lift, but he insisted that he would prefer to walk to the store himself, wishing to be alone with his thoughts before he had to endure the long drive to the farmhouse with Eustace. He glanced around for a garbage can with an ashtray attached to it. Even though it was supposed to be the end of the world, it didn't feel right dropping his cigarette onto the ground.

Many times, he tried putting himself inside of Barbara's shoes. On paper he could place himself within her shoes. But the want will always be stronger than the guilt. No matter how much he had tried to guilt himself and no matter how many times he placed himself within her shoes, the want will always be stronger.

Enid had continued to sit very close to him even after he told her that he wasn't comfortable with her sitting close to him or touching him, pressing her side against his, touching his thigh when she laughed, playing with his hair.

His hair had been her's to play with no matter how many times he had asked her to stop. She wanted him. She wanted to be with him. Therefore, his body was her's to touch and his mouth was her's to kiss.

Because she wanted to be with him.

The want was more important than what he wanted.

And thus, no matter how many times he had attempted to place himself inside of Barbara's shoes, the want will always be stronger than the guilt.

He couldn't be a good person if he tried.

He was a creature of want.

His first instinct was to take.

To take was second nature to him.

In his mind, her body will always be his to hold.

Her love will always be his.

Because he wanted to be with her.

He was no different than Enid.

He was just like her.

He was her.


Courage and Eustace stood on the porch, watching as the EMTs carried the gurney containing the freaky barber into the ambulance.

"That's what you get for being a freak!" Eustace said, turning to stomp into the house.

Courage watched Muriel let go of the freaky barber's hand, allowing the EMTs to hoist the gurny into the ambulence, climbing up along side them, taking hold of her nephew's hand once again. Courage watched Muriel, waiting for her to turn and look at him until the EMTs shut the doors and the ambulance sped off, sirens wailing.

This entire time, Muriel had not looked at him once.


"The blood is draining from my brain..."

No longer able to imbue or ingrain

Anymore threats or fears of pain

And at long last, I can finally..."