- 8:15 AM: 6 DAYS EARLIER -
"Come on, come on!"
Shaggy slammed his foot on the gas, forcing the Mystery Machine against the friction of snow. The Mystery Machine groaned in protest as it pushed through the snow and ice.
"Shaggy, stop doing that! You're going to crash!" Daphne shrieked from the back. She was crouched beside Scooby, wrapping towels around his legs.
But Shaggy didn't listen – his best friend was dying.
By the time they reached the parking lot an hour later, Scooby was completely unresponsive; he'd lost a lot of blood.
"Scoob? Buddy?"
Shaggy scrambled into the back of the van and began to shake Scooby. Daphne was trembling terribly. Her nightgown was soaked with blood and her hands were bright red. "Shaggy . . . he – he's not waking up!"
"Stay here with him!" Shaggy choked out as he sprinted towards the clinic. Within seconds, two vet technicians were by his side, pulling on rubber gloves.
"What happened?" one of them asked.
"I – I don't know!" Shaggy sobbed. "He – he ran off and – and came back like this –
Daphne slid out of the van, the snow biting at her bare feet. She and Shaggy forgot to grab their shoes – just like Fred. But Daphne didn't care. She wrapped her arms around herself. "He – he's not breathing!"
The techs didn't ask any more questions. One grabbed Scooby's front legs and the other the back. They rushed him inside with Shaggy hot on their heels.
Daphne then forced herself to move and opened a side compartment in the back of the van, grabbing two large coats and two pairs of rubber boots – she'd always been prepared for a clothing emergency, and this time was no exception.
Inside, Daphne found Shaggy at the front desk, screaming.
"Sir, we can't let you back there –
"I DON'T CARE!"
Shaggy's voice cracked as he tried to push past the front desk staff, desperately trying to get to Scooby.
Daphne ran to him, grabbing his arm tightly. "Shaggy, you need to calm down! Please! They've got him! He's in good hands now!"
Shaggy's body gave out. He collapsed to his knees, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs.
Daphne knelt beside him. She knew there was no way she could move him outside, but she would be able to help him into one of the chairs close by.
After a minute, Shaggy and Daphne were seated in the stiff lobby chairs, terrified at the thought of what would happen.
Shaggy watched as owners entered the building with their happy, healthy pets for their annual checkup. They were oblivious about what was happening behind those swinging doors. They had no clue as to what he was going through.
Daphne, still barefoot and in her bloody nightgown, realized she needed to clean up. She grabbed her coat and boots and went into the bathroom and washed off as much blood as she could. She looked in the mirror; blood was matted in her red hair. She bit back a sob.
Shaggy had calmed down a bit by the time Daphne joined him again; she'd brought him a small bottle of water from the clinic's mini fridge.
Then they sat there. Waiting. Seconds became minutes. Minutes became hours. And hours became days.
Shaggy was hunched forward, bouncing his knees with his head in his hands. Daphne, however, was still; she was exhausted. Everything was happening too fast in such a short time. It was all too much to process.
Suddenly, she realized she forgot to call Fred and Velma with an update. She felt for her phone but remembered she left it back at the cabin. "Shaggy?"
He didn't lift his head. "Hm?"
"Can I borrow your phone?"
Without looking at her, he reached into his pocket and handed it to her. She took it and stepped outside into the freezing cold, shivering as she dialed Fred.
Fred picked up almost immediately. "Hello? Shaggy?"
"Fred! It's Daphne."
"How's Scooby?"
"They got him in about two hours ago. We haven't heard anything, but we were told he's in surgery right now."
"Why didn't you guys call us when you got there? Velma's worried sick right now."
"I know, I know! I'm sorry! We were so panicked. Scooby wasn't breathing, and –
"What!?"
"Yeah. But they've got him in now, like I've said –
She was met with silence on the other end.
"Did they say if he'll be okay?"
"I – I think it's too early to tell right now, Fred," Daphne whispered into the phone, her voice shaking with sobs. "He lost so much blood –
"Okay . . . I'll update Velma. We've just been looking for clues."
"Good," Daphne said as she nodded rapidly. "We need to figure out what happened to Scooby."
"Can I talk to Shaggy?"
Daphne hesitated. "No. He's out of it, Freddy. I – I don't know what to do –
"Just tell him that it'll be okay, okay?"
"Okay," Daphne breathed, fighting back a sob. "I - I'm just scared."
"It'll be okay, Daph. I promise."
At those words, Daphne felt a slight wave of relief overcome her. Fred's words always comforted her. It was something she'd been thinking about for a while . . .
"Okay," she whispered, not knowing what else to say. "I'm going back inside."
"Okay. Keep us updated, alright?"
"I will . . . Bye."
Daphne wiped fresh tears from her eyes. She didn't know what would happen to Scooby. The unknown gripped at her like a vice, forcing her into a pit of dread.
Back inside, Shaggy was still seated with his head in his hands.
Daphne didn't speak; there were no words to make this better. Instead, she sat beside him and rested her head on his shoulder – a quiet reminder she was there for him.
Exhaustion overcame her. Within moments, she drifted into the darkness.