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Second Chances	By : ZombieWithANoose Category: 1 through F > Drop Dead Fred Views: 3130 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: We don't own Drop Dead Fred and are not making any profit/money off of this.

Chapter List
- 3
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- 5
Authors' Notes:

Sorry this took so long (I was swallowed by trolls), but thank you for everyone who keeps reading and poking for more. Hope it lives up to expectations and was worth the wait. :D Please review if you're still out there! I’ll try not to be so terrible with the updates from now on.

Disclaimer: We still don't own Drop Dead Fred, and aren't making a single profit off of this story.

Chapter Three

Circumstantial Blessings

Enzo crept toward Damion in timid fashion. “You’re creating a mess, you know. How could you agree to this disaster?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Entertainment? Boredom? Full moon? It certainly wasn’t for this riveting moment between us.”

“But...” Enzo fidgeted with the jewels bedazzled to his dress, his resolve threatening to betray him. “But she’s not allowed to be an imaginary friend. You know our rules... You made them up.” The cutting stare from Damion was almost palpable.

“And I can bend them whenever I like. Besides, it's not really bending. She’s not gonna last long as an imaginary friend anyway.” The callousness in his tone practically had ice hanging off the words.

“Then why go through with this? Haven’t you thought about what it’s going to do to Fred?” An unsettling feeling gripped Enzo as he watched Damion just shake his head and smile. The simple action confirmed his fears; something awful was underfoot.

“You know, I have and it wouldn’t affect him any more than it would if Elizabeth Cronin popped off for good right now, would it? Least this way he gets to do his job a bit longer before turning into a sad sack of uselessness.”

Enzo flinched at the sting of Damion’s words. “I’m not sure I quite get what you’re saying...”

“I’m saying, I think Fred is hiding something, and I don’t like it, so I’m going to pry it out of his ever-lying mouth even if it kills them both.”

Fred rematerialized just outside the hospital’s waiting area, never more thankful to be back from the Other Otherworld. Visiting with the masters of his universe always left him on edge, simply because the entire lot of them made him question his already fleeting sanity.

Bunch of crazy bastards... He often wondered if they were all pledging for an asylum. Fred shook his head, trying to knock some of his sense back into place. At least now he could breathe knowing Lizzie was safe from oblivion. He only hoped she would forgive him for introducing her to the biggest wankers in the universe.

A surprising surge of emotion overtook him at those thoughts, forcing tears from his eyes, and reigniting the earlier fluttering sensation within his stomach. Gasping, Fred propped himself up against the nearest wall as he struggled to get ahold of himself.

What the hell was the matter with him? Crying? No. He refused to do this now. Natalie was counting on him and Lizzie was moments away from needing him more than she ever had in her whole life. He couldn’t just let everything that had been piling up inside him explode at the last minute and further ruin everyone’s lives; he was Drop Dead Fred for fuck’s sake! But look at him! He had obviously been standing too close to Mickey and caught his girly weeping.

Never had a thought been more sobering for Fred in his entire existence.

Pushing himself from the wall, he frantically used his sleeves to wipe away all evidence of his tears and swore to never think of this moment again. Right now he needed to find Natalie and focus on taking care of her.

Rounding the corner into the waiting area, Fred scanned the outer edges of the room for his little blonde-haired charge, especially concentrating on the corners. Natalie always had a thing for corners. The faint hint of purple fabric peeked out from behind a planter along the far wall.

Got her, he thought, rematerializing behind her and covering her eyes. "Guess who?" he asked against her ear.

His only response was a heavy and unwelcome shrug.

“Nope, I’m sorry that’s not how you play the game,” he said. “Try again.”

“I don’t want to play.” Natalie slumped over with a defeated whine.

“Yes you do!” he shouted, but his friend remained bent on ignoring him. Fred frowned. This behavior reminded him a lot of Lizzie and for a moment he nearly lost himself to another unexpected swell of emotion. Mickey’s face glistening with tears at the other end of the room, however, helped him dial it back.

He’d bedazzle with Enzo before ever acting like Fartpants.

Pausing, Fred suddenly realized the man Mickey now engaged in such an overly emotional discussion with was Lizzie’s father. Time may have dusted gray in his hair and added lines to his face, but Fred could never forget the man who had abandoned his best friend over twenty years ago. It sickened him to see him here now just because it was the end; Lizzie deserved better than this. She deserved hundreds of people fighting for her, not just some Fartpants crying in the hall.

Fred’s eyes narrowed at Mickey and a withering scowl crossed his face. "Oi, what a girl," he muttered, turning back to Natalie, hands still placed over her eyes. “Hey, I bet I know what’ll make you want to play!” he said. Fred tightened his grasp and gave her head such a rough shake that it jostled her tiny body like a helpless ragdoll.

“No! I said I don’t wanna!” Natalie kicked and writhed, fighting to pry his hands from her face. “Let me go!”

Fred snorted. “Not until I see if this works.” He shook her faster, smirking at the way Natalie’s hair now stuck up at all ends.

“Nooooo!”

“Yessssss! I’m shaking you up like a Magic Eight Ball until you change your answer!” Fred caught the emergence of a smile on Natalie’s face. ‘Bout bloody time, he thought, relenting in his assault and leaning close to her ear. “Now let’s see if it worked… Guess who?”

“You’re so annoying,” she mumbled.

“Least I’m not boring like you! You’re the dullest friend I’ve ever had and if you don’t answer me right now I’ll slip into a coma and DIE, and I’ll tell everyone your real name is Natalie Narcolepsy because you put me to sleep!”

“If you’re asleep how will you tell them?” she whispered and grinned.

“I- Oi! That’s enough outta you!” Fred roughhoused her again, laughter practically spilling from his smart-mouthed charge. Too smart for her own good.

“Okay, okay!” she cried.

Fred tickled her a bit more for good measure and finally stopped to fold his arms. “Alright then. I’m waiting...”

“Are you one of Santa’s elves?”

Fred snorted. "An elf? Pfft! Please! You wouldn't catch me dead in one of those horrible pairs of tights and weird shoes that curl at the tips. Try again!" An elf! That was just insulting. Still, Fred glanced down at his clothes. Did he really look like an elf?

Natalie giggled. "Are you sure? Maybe you just don’t remember. I bet your real name is Fritz, or Twinkle Toes."

Fred's face twisted up in disgust. "EWWWW! Twinkle Toes?! Have you gone mad? My elf name would never be so girly! I'd have a proper man's name like... Knob Rocket, or something."

"That’s not an elf’s name!"

"Better than Fritz!" he harrumphed, climbing over the row of chairs and plopping into a seat. The clock on the wall across from him revealed that over an hour had passed since his visit to the Other Otherworld, redirecting his thoughts back to Lizzie. He wondered how much time remained before Polly the Plug Reaper struck. He had to get back into that room…

"So... uh, has the witch sucked out your dad's soul yet?”

"I don't think so...” Natalie crawled out from her hiding place to sit beside him. “But I stopped watching a while ago." Her anxious demeanor returned. "I didn't like all the yelling, so I hid... Fred? Is... Is Lizzie gonna be okay? Did you save her?"

“I...” Fred choked. “Hasn’t your dad told you anything?”

Natalie shook her head. “I heard people saying she’s not waking up.”

“Well, that’s true—“

“So what happened?”

Fred squirmed, fighting the urge to blindfold Natalie’s huge, hope-filled eyes which were locked on him like torpedoes. “It’s… Well, don’t you wanna wait for your dad? I’m sure he can explain it better than I can.” Tears welled in her eyes, and Fred felt his emotions pulled in so many directions he swore he were being drawn and quartered.

“Please?” Her voice trembled.

“Natalie, it’s... difficult,” he said, clearing his throat, and tearing his gaze away before he broke. How the hell was he to explain any of this to her? What the hell had Fartpants been doing this whole time? Defeated, Fred ran his hand over his face and sighed.

“Come here,” he whispered, holding out his arms. Natalie scooted closer and he wrapped her into a tight embrace, briefly wondering how many more times his bloody heart would break in one afternoon.

"I, um, don't think Lizzie's gonna be okay, Fishface. You know she was hurt very badly."

"What do you mean? Isn’t she gonna get any better?"

Through his connection to her, Fred felt the sickening fear that twisted around inside her, making him wish he could do something, anything to spare her the coming pain. "No,” he said, his answer a strained whisper. “I… I’m afraid not.” For a moment Natalie stopped breathing in his arms, and the wave of grief nearly drowned his words. “She’s, she’s got to rest… for a very long time…”

“W-what do you mean? Why?” Natalie started to shake, and Fred tried to quell her by stroking her hair.

“She’s really hurt- It’s why everyone’s so upset. She… has to go someplace else.” Fred found his words failing him and his grief surmounting under the pressure. His connection to everything Natalie was experiencing, coupled with his own emotions consumed him. The lump in Natalie’s throat felt like a noose around his neck, and her rampant feelings hardly differed from his own, sending him reeling under the mixture. The warm feel of tears soaking through his shirt; however, brought him back to the present as he remembered how much more she needed him right now.

Rocking her in his arms, and hearing her sobs, a detail struck Fred, recalled from the first day he had met Natalie:

Crying made her angry because it reminded her of the night her mom left…

“You lied to me!” Natalie choked. "You said you were gonna protect her!” Twisting, she tried to shove herself away from Fred, but he fought to keep her still.

“But I did!”

“Then why’s she going away?” Natalie screamed.

Fred broke at those words, stunned by the piercing glare given to him and the guilt of not being there to protect Lizzie in the first place from that bloody truck. He relinquished his hold, and Natalie tumbled to the ground on the verge of hyperventilation. She gasped and choked between sobs, curling into a ball as she screamed for her father over Fred.

“But there wasn’t anything I could do!” he shouted, leaping from his seat.

“Liar!”

Cringing, Fred stumbled back in shock as Mickey swooped in to replace him, picking Natalie up in his arms and rocking her like he were suddenly some kind of hero. Even Polly, Nigel, and some of the hospital staff gathered round, which suddenly gave Fred a whole new set of anxieties.

If Natalie said anything about him around the Megabitch or those nurses…

“Sweetheart, what’s the matter?” Mickey asked.

“L-Lizzie- Lizzie’s not- not coming back!” she choked out.

Mickey paled. “Where did you hear that?”

Fred held his stomach as he remembered the green pills with Lizzie. No, no, no. Don’t say my name. Please not right now!

“Maybe it’s time you took your daughter home,” said Polly, hovering over Mickey. The two exchanged a brief, but heated stare.

“Yeah… Maybe you’re right,” he answered, standing up with Natalie still in his arms. “I’m sorry things turned out the way they did. I wish things could’ve been different… for all of us.” Mickey nodded to Polly and Nigel, and left defeated for the elevators.

Closing his eyes, Fred gave a loud sigh of relief. “THANK YOU!” he cried to whatever force had decided to spare him at least one disaster this day. He only wished things had gone different with Natalie, and guilt flooded him. Fred hated himself for having to lie to her, but fear of the gods rescinding their offer kept him from breathing a word about Lizzie to anybody- even other imaginary friends.

“Sorry, Fishface,” he whispered toward the elevators. “I’ll make it up to you later.”

In a spark of green, Fred disappeared for Lizzie’s room and crept toward the still figure tucked beneath the sheets. As far as he could tell, there had been no change in Lizzie’s health, and the annoying beeps and buzzes still signaled her life was only being prolonged. Very soon she would be dead to everyone, except him and the ridiculous gods toying with her afterlife. Fred knew it was coming, but putting his mind in the right place proved harder than he originally thought.

Eyes burning with the threat of tears, he slumped into a nearby chair and waited for the inevitable.

Back in the Other Otherworld, the gods had gathered into a circle to discuss the final details of Lizzie’s death. Peering into the human world through their magic monocle goggles, they tried to understand what they were doing because the complexity of this case had most of them (especially Enzo) confused.

“So where do we start with this one?” he asked, scratching his head. “I mean, she’s got so many connections, it’d be a bother to erase all of their memories.” In fact, his head spun from all the counting.

“We’re not touching any of them,” said Damion, as he kept a watchful eye on Fred through his monocle goggles. His suspicions were spiking even worse than before; it was giving him indigestion.

“What? But then how? How’re we going to cover up the missing body once we bring her over? There are rules we—”

“Do I have to explain everything?”

“Well, I’d rather you did,” Cale grumbled, flicking a piece of lint from his sleeve. “I hate sticking my fingers in everyone’s ears.”

“If it’s any consolation, I hate sticking mine in yours most of all,” said Axel.

Bastion snickered. “Oh yes, Cale’s are the worst! So sticky and, oh who knows what’s causing that after smell. I wash for weeks and it never goes away.”

“Could we please stop talking about my ears? I do clean them, you know... once in a while.” Turning from the group, Cale slouched into a sulk. “Inconsiderate pricks…”

“So, uh, Damion,” Enzo began, too worried about the present situation to become distracted by ear talk, “what exactly are we doing?”

“It’s simple, really,” he said, finally lowering his own monocle goggles. “Though maybe not for you... We’re creating an illusion. A decoy body that will keep those mortals believing everything’s normal, while the real Elizabeth’s here with us.”

Axel visibly flinched, finally starting to see why Enzo was asking so many questions. “But Fred’s friends with a child who knows her. That can cause all kinds of chaos. If we don’t cover this up—”

“Look!” Damion growled. “There’s no point going through all the trouble of erasing this woman’s whole life when she’s not fit for the job anyway, is there? The decoy’s only a temporary stand-in ‘til the time comes for the real Elizabeth to get sent off to start pushing up the daisies.”

Lifting his monocle goggles, Damion gazed back into the mortal realm, unaware of the anxious glances taking place amongst his colleagues. "It appears we have about nine minutes their time,” he said. “All of you better get ready for the snatch."

Fred anxiously paced the room. Moving seemed to be the only thing distracting enough to keep him from falling apart as he waited for the Megabitch to come pull the plug. He didn’t care how long it took, he would not leave this room again without his friend… He owed her that.

“You know, none of this would be happening if you’d only wake up,” he said, stopping at Lizzie’s bedside, and searching one last time for any signs of life. Her stillness compelled him to touch her hand, his thumb gently caressing over the top.

“Well, you always promised we’d run away together… Guess you’re finally following through.” Fred’s mouth twitched with the hint of a broken smile as reality caught up with him. “It’s Fred by the way.” His breath shook as he wondered if Lizzie could even hear him; he hoped she did.

“I can’t believe you’re going to end it like this,” he whispered, hating all the tubes and machines; hating how cold her hand now felt in his. “But at least you’ll give the Megabitch one last good show, huh?” He shrugged up his arm to wipe a sniffle away from his nose, but another glance at Lizzie shattered him.

“It’s really not fair.” Fred choked. “I could’ve saved you! If I’d stayed just a bit longer, I could’ve chased you down and bashed you on the head before you even made it out that stupid door, and- You...You wouldn’t have-” His voice hitched and tears fell from his eyes. “You’re my friend, Snotface; the first real one I ever had, and I’m so sorry I couldn’t, that I couldn’t save you.”

Dropping to his knees, he gripped Lizzie’s hand, praying the deal he’d made with Damion was the right thing to do. Whatever the catch was, let it be on him and not her... “I’m so sorry,” he whispered again, just as Polly, Nigel, and Charles entered the room, swarmed by doctors and nurses. Anger overtook him at the sight.

After all his time of trying to protect Lizzie from her awful mother and her rotten husband, in the end he was powerless to step up when it really counted. He wondered if somewhere, anywhere within either of them they had even a grain of remorse over what they planned to do.

Stumbling back, Fred moved out of Polly’s way, choosing to linger in the corner. His fists clenched as he watched them all, finalizing forms and recording final vitals, but when he saw the tears on Polly’s face, solace entered him. For a long moment all he could do was stare at her, actually feeling sorry for her.

“I’m ready,” she said, clearing her throat as she watched her daughter’s near-lifeless form with a haunting sadness that filled the room. Fred felt his lungs deflate.

It was time.

"Remember, we do this ON three, not after. Not on five, but ON three. Do I make myself clear this time?" Damion spat. He was quite tired of his cohorts’ endless inability to remember when to pull someone through to the Other Otherworld. They had lost several prime candidates that way.

“Not really. I can still see you quite solidly,” said Cale.

Damion gaped in amazement, blinking several times before he could even draw breath. “Honestly, do you sit there thinking of ways to piss me off?”

Cale shrugged. “When it’s a slow day.”

“Bloody hell. I’ve got nothing left to say to you.”

“Well, I’ve won then…” Cale whispered, receiving a nod of approval from Axel.

Damion cringed. That indigestion was becoming an ulcer. “Back to work…” he snarled.

The gods all dropped their monocle goggles over their eyes. Positioning their fingertips against their temples as they concentrated on Elizabeth.

“It’s time! It’s time!” rang Enzo.

“I see that,” Bastion said. “I can read, you know.”

“You don’t read time,” corrected Axel.

“Oh, shut it! You know what I meant.” Bastion glared.

“Yes, and we all wish we didn’t,” said Cale.

“Oh sod off!”

“No, Bastion. You sod off!” Cale shouted.

“You-” Bastion was so upset he couldn’t get the words out. “You’re insufferable!” He ran his hands through his hair. “You always have to have the last word, and it’s not even original! You’re just repeating me. Like a parrot. A bloody parrot.”

“I was only helping you. No need to get nasty.” Cale sniveled.

“ONE!” Damion shouted over the lot of them. Everyone silenced and went back to concentrating, readying themselves for the big moment. “Two…” Damion glanced around with unease as all of them continued to behave- It was bloody eerie. “Three!”

Remarkably, and for perhaps the first time in their history, all the gods went on three to pull Elizabeth Cronin into the Other Otherworld.

From within Lizzie’s room, Fred felt the scene play out in front of him as if it were in slow motion. As soon as the machines stopped beeping, an eerie group of hands appeared from the walls. Fred tensed as they grabbed hold of Lizzie, pulling some sort of silvery essence from her limp body before disappearing back into thin air. In their wake, a strange glow fell over the corpse remaining in the bed, which unknown to Fred was merely the decoy for Damion’s plan.

Slowly, Fred moved to the side of the bed to pay his final respects. He leaned forward, trembling as he kissed her forehead with such a reverent tenderness it almost shocked him.

"See you soon," he whispered and dematerialized from the room.
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Second Chances