What Could Have Been
Author's Note: Back in 2012 I published a fanfic about Freaky Fred called Little Freddy, but I took it down because of anxiety and OCD reasons. Last summer, I read a lot of fan theories concerning Fred and I wanted to write a fanfic that explored one of these theories. I based the premise of What Could Have Been on how my original fanfic was supposed to end. As a matter of fact, I wrote the part where he shaved himself in the shower back in 2012. I found that scene in one of my old notebooks. I added certain things, but for the most part, that scene had been written in 2012.
Chapter Twenty-One "What's left of my hair has turned to grey..."
He found Muriel sitting at the kitchen table, so immersed in whatever she was looking at that she did not seem to hear Courage. If she had heard him, she gave no indication. It wouldn't have surprised him, he thought, his heart sinking, given how she had been acting towards him as of late.
Muriel had been distant before Fred ended up in the psychiatric ward. Since she returned from the hospital, Muriel barely spoke to Courage. When she did speak to him, it was mostly out of necessity. She had behaved similarly after Cordelia died, but she had smiled at him. Even if she hadn't been able to smile with her mouth, there had always been a smile in her eyes.
Courage made his way to the table, wagging his tail and giving Muriel a timid smile. He wished she would just look at him and smile back and everything would be better again. At this point, part of him didn't care about his anger for the freaky barber. He just wanted her to smile at him again. He climbed onto the chair beside her, glancing over the array of photographs Muriel had laid out on the table.
"Morning, Muriel." He gave her another timid smile, wagging his tail a little harder, "It's a beautiful day." He glanced at the September blue sky before trying to get a better look at the pictures of a boy and a girl he didn't recognize, "What are you looking at?"
"Fred dear." Muriel murmured, pointing to a particular photograph.
Whenever Courage had put any thought into what the freaky barber might have looked like as a kid, he had pictured him to be a shrunken version of what he looked like as an adult.
He didn't expect the freaky barber to look...
Well, like a normal kid.
A very grumpy kid, but a very normal looking kid nonetheless.
His short blonde hair stuck out in all directions. His eyebrows faint, no where near what they would become when he grew into an adult. His face was very thin and his green eyes were enormous. He wore a dark green turtleneck sweater and denim overalls. The saggy sleeves of his sweater pushed up to his elbows, his arms thin, bony and very pale.
Muriel held up another picture of the younger freaky barber sporting a black eye and a massive bruise on his cheek. He had turned his head away as though refusing to look at the camera.
A little girl, that looked to be Fred's age, sat next to him, her arms around the younger freaky barber's shoulders. Her reddish blonde hair cut into a short bob, her round pale face tense and the look in her large dark eyes put Courage on edge. She looked almost frightened of whoever was taking the picture. Courage already guessed who this little girl was and he could bet who was most likely taking the picture.
"LIndsey." Muriel murmured.
She pointed to the small purple flowers woven into the little girl's messy hair.
"Fred always picked her flowers and put them in her hair. He had always been such a sweet boy."
Courage couldn't feel angry at her anymore.
He just wanted everything to go back to normal.
"Courage?"
At the sound of his name, Courage's heart lifted, his tail going a million miles an hour.
"The day those wolves tried to hurt him-"
She looked at him.
"You didn't try to save him, did you?"
Courage stared at her, feeling caught. There had been times where Muriel caught him sneaking food or doing something he shouldn't, such as burying a library book, which caused him to feel sheepish at the most, always reassured by the warmth in her eyes.
Her eyes weren't cold, but there was no warmth, no understanding.
"You could've saved him." Muriel murmured as though she were talking to herself, "You've been in sticky situations before. I'm certain you could've saved him." She sighed, "And perhaps there wasn't anything you could've done..."
Courage waited as Muriel gazed at the photos of the younger freaky barber.
"I just wished you tried saving Fred. I'm just..."
She glanced at him.
"I guess I feel disappointed in you Courage."
Muriel might as well have told Courage that she hated him.
"I'm going to make Fred a nice pot of chicken soup after I get him settled. Its a beautiful day. I want him to spend some time outside in the fresh air after being cooped up in that hospital for too long. Eustace! I'm taking the truck to pick up Fred from the hospital!"
"If anyone's gonna drive that truck, it's going to be me! And I ain't picking up no freak from no hospital-"
Courage just sat there, his heart pounding and his insides burning, scarcely paying attention as his owner and the farmer shouted at one another. Were this any other situation, he would have been at Muriel's side, if for no other reason, than to offer moral support. He just sat, staring, feeling as though he could never move again. Eventually, the house shook as the front door slammed shut, his ears perking up as the truck started, the noise disappearing after a few moments.
Courage sighed and made his way upstairs, his ears and his tail dead weights. Courage had used two rolls of duct tape to bind Computer's robotic legs together, hoping that it would be enough to keep him from moving if his switch were turned on accidentally. Courage had secured the off switch with the clear tape Fred had used to tape the pages of his journal, placing the last scrap of duct tape over the layers of clear tape for good measure.
Carrying him downstairs had scarcely been a thought. Again, if this were any other situation, he might have wondered what the teacher lady would have thought.
As if that mattered anymore.
Outside, he placed Computer into a rusted red wagon that had been in the barn, making sure none of his cords or wires would get caught in the wheels before draping a tarp over his friend, tucking the edges of the plastic into the wagon.
Then, without warning, Courage slumped to the ground.
He didn't have it in him to cry anymore.
What good would crying do?
He had screamed and cried and it only made his life worse.
His life had worsened as a result of his screaming and crying.
His anger.
Everytime he had expressed his anger, his pain, he had been punished.
Perhaps this was always going to happen, that sooner or later, this was always meant to happen. Regardless of what he did, regardless of whether he had ever lived with Muriel or not, this was always going to happen. Cordelia was always going to die. Fred was always going to live with Muriel. Perhaps they were always going to be together regardless of whether Courage had ever been there or not. It wasn't caused by anything he did. Anything he did or his being there or not being there wouldn't have made a difference.
Perhaps his brief life with Muriel was never meant to last.
Courage sighed and got to his feet. With a heavy heart, he took hold of the wagon handle and pulled the significantly less heavier wagon containing his friend.
He was just going for a walk, he kept telling himself, he was just going for a walk.
All the while, he knew that he was going to head right back to the farmhouse no matter how long he stayed out. He wished he could just walk and walk and walk and never have to go back.
It wasn't long before he came upon a familiar caravan and the welcome sight of a particular chihuahua made him smile.
"Long time no see!" Shirley called as Courage left the wagon to greet her.
She stirred what looked and smelled like soup in her cauldron.
"You look like you've been dragged through heck." She said.
"I do?" Courage glanced himself over as best as he could.
"Would that explain why I haven't seen you in almost a year?"
"You're right, it has been awhile."
"Only come to see me when you need help with something, have you?"
Despite her wry tone, Courage thought he saw the corner of her mouth twitch, wondering if his eyes were playing tricks on him.
"What's that you got in your wagon?" Shirley asked, glancing over Courage's shoulder.
"My computer."
"I've considered getting a computer, but I keep putting it off. I have more important things that I need than a computer. However, If you're throwing him away, I can take it off your hands-"
"I'm not throwing him away."
"Then would you mind explaining to me why you're lugging around your computer in a wagon?"
"It's a long story."
"I've got time." She tapped the edge of the cauldron with her spoon, "Help yourself."
She held up a tray of frosted and delicious smelling loaves, "I've made some extra money selling my zucchini bread around town. Because of the rain, I've been able to plant a garden and now I have more vegetables than I know what to do with them. So I thought, why not make a little extra money off them?"
"It's the same with Muriel's garden." Courage said as he poured himself a bowl of soup, "She had always had trouble growing things. Last year, her tomato patch was practically a jungle."
"And how is your Muriel? I saw her sister's obituary in the newspaper last year."
"She went to pick up her nephew from the hospital." He paused, "From the psych ward."
"I also read that her nephew had been released from the Home for Freaky Barbers."
Courage looked at her, startled.
"Must've been a slow news day." Shirley muttered.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke, both of them too busy digging into their food to talk. Finishing what was left of his soup, Courage glanced up at the sky. It had been the first clear day since the meteor, not a cloud in the September blue sky. Courage felt Shirley's eyes bore into him and he took another bite of zucchini bread.
"This is delicious." He said through a mouthful.
"What's the story with your computer?" She asked as though he hadn't said anything at all.
Courage sighed.
"That's what I'm trying to figure out."
He lead her to the wagon and pulled the tarp off of his friend.
"Has he taken over your Muriel again?" Shirley asked as though this were an everyday occurrence.
"He has actually. But that's not why I tied him up-" He stopped.
"A hammer can solve your problem."
"No-" Courage barked, "I don't want to kill him! I'm trying to figure out how to make him not go after a certain person."
"And what person might that be?"
Courage wrung his paws.
"That's where the long story comes in."
"Why don't you just remove his legs?"
That was the last thing he wanted to do. It wouldn't be any different than cutting off someone's legs. He couldn't bring himself to do such a thing even if he had to. Turning the off switch had already felt like a betrayal.
"How does he take over people?"
Courage explained as best as he could.
"You can just remove his cord-" She held up the cord that Computer had used to download himself into Muriel, "That way, he can't take over anyone even if he could walk around."
"I guess." Courage murmured.
While it still felt like removing a part of Computer's body, it was better than cutting off all of his arms and legs. That cord served no other purpose than downloading himself into another person and he couldn't risk keeping it attached to Computer.
"So there. Your problems are solved."
Courage sighed, "Thanks, Shirley." He caught Shirley's critcal stare and mustered a smile, "I'll have to find a mechanic that can take it off. I don't want to attempt to do that myself and risk breaking him."
"Yes." Shirley seemed disinterested, "Could I interest you in a cup of coffee?"
"If you're having a cup, I'll have one." He smiled.
Upon stepping into the pleasant smelling caravan, Courage felt as though he were in a place separate from the rest of the world. From the farmhouse. From his own situation. He remembered how he felt sitting beneath the apocalyptic sky after the ordeal with the virus/ Enid. How the oncoming apocalypse itself had been a respite from his own situation. As long as he stayed in this caravan, he was separated from his situation. He wished he could stay here and visit with Shirley forever so he didn't have to go back to the farmhouse. He wished he never had to go back to the farmhouse ever again.
"I've been keeping track of the meteor." Shirley said as Courage did his best to avoid stepping on any of the zucchinis and tomatoes and squash that covered the floor.
Drawings, as well as notes scribbled in a hurry and without the possibility of someone reading her notes in mind, had been tacked on the wall alongside the telescope that filled the window.
"When it kept disappearing and reappearing out of thin air, I knew something was up."
"Yeah." Courage stammered, pretending that he was focused on getting to the table without stepping on any of the vegetables.
"Perhaps I can bring some vegetables over for your Muriel. And perhaps I can meet this freaky barber nephew of her's-"
"I wouldn't-" Courage stopped, taking control of himself, "I wouldn't recommend it."
"And why is that?"
He felt a vastness inside of his chest. Outside, the seashell roar of the wind seemed to blow through him as though he were empty.
He started talking. Having felt so overwhelmed at the thought of telling Shirley everything, he suddenly felt something unlock within his brain. The floodgates opened and everything spilled out of him, going off on tangents here and there to explain certain dreams and information he had gleaned which had helped him connect everything that had happened together.
Shirley would refill her coffee cup every often, holding Courage's eyes to let him know that she was still listening, stirring honey into her second or third cup.
He had expected to cry. Telling her things that had made him scream and cry suddenly became the easiest things in the world to talk about. It was only when he told her how Muriel had grown distant since the meteor, and how she had ignored him when she had called the ambulence, did his throat tighten.
"I would have helped her." Courage whispered once he trusted himself to speak again, "I would have called an ambulance. I would have. I would have. I would have if she asked me to. But she didn't. She wouldn't even look at me-"
Then again, it wasn't as though he had made any effort to call an ambulance himself.
"She always asked me for help, but she acted like I wasn't there at all-"
"I'm very tempted to curse this freaky barber," Shirley growled "And call upon the creatures that reside within the planet's shell to devour him for what he did to you-"
"No! I can't let anything happen to him-"
"Because you want your Muriel to be happy. Yes, yes-" Shirley waved her paw in disgust, "But at what cost? If you want my opinion, you need to get away from them."
"But - I can't leave Muriel. I have to protect her."
"You can do that without living with her."
"But what if something happens during the night and I'm not there?"
"Alright, I'm going to cut the crap here - you need to get away from this freaky barber. You are too involved with his business and his love life. Staying in the same house as him and seeing his personal business and his love life - that's disgusting, especially after what he did to you. Forget about Muriel. She's a lost cause."
"But she's my home."
"She's old and set in her ways. She wants her nephew to live there and she's not going to change her mind about him anytime soon. In other words, she chose him over you. And if that hurts your feelings, too bad."
"But-I can't leave her-"
"The way I see it, if you continue to live there, those two leeches will leech away at you until you are a shadow of your former self. And judging by your appearance, I say that process has already begun. I didn't want to say anything earlier, but I noticed your fur has tinged to grey."
"It has?" Courage started, looking himself over.
"I thought that maybe it was premature aging, but now, I doubt that is the case."
Courage stared at the silver hair that covered his forelegs and paws, wondering how he had overlooked this.
"I say you need to cut your losses and get away from the freaky barber." Shirley gave him a sharp glance, "The lines between you and the freaky barber are already blurred. His business is your business. You need to get away from his smell and his personal business before it's too late."
"I can't, Shirley."
"Your Muriel doesn't care what he did to you. Why should you stay for her sake?"
Courage whined.
"I can't."
"Can't or won't?"
"I-"
"That settles it."
With that, she set her cup down and began to effortlessly weave her way around the vegetables, heading for the door.
"Where are you going?" Courage asked, tripping over several vegetables in his attempt to follow her.
"I'm going to meet this freaky barber nephew of your Muriel's and I'm going to give him a piece of my mind!"
With that, she strode off without so much as a glance. Courage grabbed the wagon handle and hurried after her.
"Ah, Shirley!" Muriel's face brightened, "How lovely to see you. It's been awhile since I last saw you!"
She gestured to the freaky barber whom she had just helped into the rocking chair.
"This is my nephew, Fred. Fred dear, this is Shirley, one of Courage's friends. She's a medium, you know. She helped me get in touch with Aunt Gertrude in the afterlife." She gasped, "Perhaps you can help us get in touch with my sister."
"Another time." Shirley responded more to the freaky barber than to Muriel, her tone noncommittal.
"Are you staying long, Shirley? I'm making Fred a pot of chicken soup-"
"Courage and I have already eaten." Shirley cut in.
"Oh well, could I offer you a cup of tea then?"
"Not today." Shirley said, continuing to stare down the freaky barber.
"Ah well, then I'll leave you three to get acquainted."
With that, Muriel closed the front door behind her, humming as though this were any other day.
The freaky barber looked unrecognizable, more pale than all of the times Courage had seen him. Seemingly every blanket and quilt that Muriel could find wrapped around his shoulders and middle and legs and feet. His folded arms made him look as though he were encased in a straight jacket. His skin and mouth the color of ashes. The once vivid and fluorescent scar that had once popped out from his face, as though it were separate from the rest of his body, had darkened, resembling a healed scab instead of the vivid bright blemish that had drawn Courage's eye from the moment Fred had arrived at the farmhouse.
"So, you're the one who is responsible for the meteor that keeps disappearing and reappearing." Shirley intoned, "That meteor is a result of your guilt over what you did to Courage."
Courage could feel the urge to curse the freaky barber within every word she spoke.
"Yes." The freaky barber rumbled.
"And the only way to stop it is to not feel guilt for what you did to Courage?"
"It's not just my guilt for what I had done to Courage, but what I had done to my previous girlfriend and what I had done to my pet hamster, Chester. The guilt and the regret makes me want to destroy myself and for Muriel's sake, I can't allow myself to feel that way anymore."
"So, you're no longer going to feel guilt for what you did to my friend." Shirley said, contempt dripping from each word.
"For Muriel's sake, I can't. The want to kill myself is too great."
"I see." Shirley said, her tone flat with disgust.
At that moment, the front door opened and Muriel appeared with a tea cup a saucer in her hands.
"Here's your tea, Fred dear, I added extra sugar and milk to it to make it taste extra cozy. Are you sure you don't want a cup, my dear?"
"I'm good."
Courage waited for Muriel to offer him a cup of tea like she always had, but instead she went inside, shutting the front door behind her.
Courage snapped.
Striding up the porch steps, Courage stopped at Fred's feet.
"You better enjoy whatever time you have left with her," His voice wavered, "Because once she-"
He glanced at the closed front door.
"...Once she passes away..."
He moved closer to Fred.
"I'm going to kill you."
He could hear the freaky barber's heartbeat.
"I still love Muriel and I won't do anything to make her hate me while she's alive. But once she's gone..."
Adrenaline pounded through his own limbs.
"It won't matter anymore."
Fred swallowed.
Then he nodded.
Courage could already see a plan of escape whirring behind the freaky barber's green eyes.
"Very well."
Courage strode down the stairs and picked up the wagon handle.
"You better not curse him." Courage glanced at Shirley, who had no trouble keeping up with him, "He's mine. I want him all to myself."
"As you wish."
"And I already decided, I'm not going to remove Computer's cord. I won't do that to him."
"What's left of my hair has turned to grey
Lindsey and I are to wed this forthcoming May
And Courage, I still think, every single day,
Of what could have been.
Fred."
