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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
- 7
- 8
- 9
Authors' Notes:
zombierose3: Here's our extra long present to everyone who's been reading and waiting so long for the additions. Thank you for the reviews, they mean so much. We wrote this chapter for all of you guys, and we have a lot more planned. Hope you like it. :)
Thank you, Pandora the Muse for stepping in to be my co–author because you bring so much more to Lizzie than I ever could and you're hilarious. Also, thank you, Halo4anoose. We still have a few pieces from you in this chapter. :)
Pandora the Muse: I just want to say thanks to zombierose3 for putting up with my crazy ideas and when my grammar gets out of control. Thank you to everyone who has been reading and reviewing. I enjoy reading your reviews so much! Also, I hope you all really enjoy this chapter and all that was put into it. :) I don't want to spoil anything. Enjoy!
Disclaimers: We don't own Drop Dead Fred, Monty Python, The Omen, Alice in Wonderland, The Twilight Zone, FIFA, Keds, brolly hats or anything else for that matter! We're starving artists! There are some paraphrased quotes so please don't think we're that profound, we're not. Quotes paraphrased are originally by William Shakespeare and Noam Chomsky.
Chapter 7
Pull My Magic Finger
Lizzie woke with a groan, her mind hazy. What had happened? Where was she? Darkness enveloped her, the air still and heavy, oppressive like the void around her. She lay against something soft and padded. Groggily, she lifted her hand toward her head, but her knuckles smacked a cushioned surface just inches above her body. Her heart thudded.
Frantically, she reached up, feeling for her surroundings, encountering more padding on all sides. It felt like a box; like she was in a padded box.
"Oh my God!" she cried, as a horrifying realization tore straight through to her core. "Is this… a coffin?"
Lizzie banged on the lid, struggling to breathe. "Let me out! Please! Oh god. I'm not dead! Let me out!" she screamed, her heart slamming against her ribcage. "Someone help me! Fred! Anyone!"
No one answered and a chilling emptiness filled her. Was she dead? Was this it?
"Fred?" Lizzie's voice cracked. Her eyes brimmed with tears. "Drop Dead Fred! Can't you hear me?" Silence followed and she hit the lid with all she had. "Please!"
A light suddenly blinded her and she threw her hands over her eyes.
"You didn't say the magic words, Miss Cronut." A familiar voice cackled from above.
Lowering her hands, Lizzie saw Damion standing over her, grinning like a demented jackass.
"You– you locked me in a coffin?" Lizzie asked, her voice hoarse from screaming.
"Consider it a test. For my own amusement." He smiled, showing off all his teeth as he stepped away from the coffin's lid. "I give low marks on your pleas, but high marks for entertainment."
"I believed it!" said Enzo, dabbing his eyes with a lace handkerchief. "It was quite moving. If ever anyone wanted out of a coffin, it was you for certain."
Lizzie gaped. He had locked her in a coffin for his own amusement? Her eye twitched.
Sitting up, she saw the rest of the gods standing next to an angry Fred hogtied by a pair of pantyhose. Her eyes widened as she watched him squirm and kick on the floor with a wadded up sock shoved in his mouth. No wonder he hadn't answered her cries, or done anything.
Hurriedly, Lizzie exited the coffin, whirling on Damion. She glared, trying to form in her mind exactly what she wanted to say.
"Cat got your tongue, Miss Cronut?" he asked, flashing an evil grin.
"You are the biggest asshole I've ever met in my life," Lizzie ground out between clenched teeth.
Damion smiled at her like she was a child. "Miss Cronut—"
That was as far as he got.
Lizzie cocked back her arm and punched Damion full in his face. The smack echoed in the silence that followed.
Lowering her arm, she stared at Damion and the perfect imprint of her fist in his face. No one moved or made a sound, until Enzo's nervous laughter filled the air.
"Gracious! She's rather quick, isn't she?"
Both Bastion and Axel exchanged glances, and together lifted scorecards above their heads.
"I give it a 9.5," said Axel.
"Are you daft? That's easily a 9.8. Look, you see every knuckle imprinted in his face." He pointed.
Cale sighed. "Only thing that would've made it perfect is if she'd knocked his head clean off in the end, but what do I know? I'm not allowed to vote…"
"People with power only understand violence," Favian murmured. "I read that somewhere."
Slowly, Damion raised his arm, put his thumb in his mouth, and exhaled. His head puffed out like a balloon, inflating back to normal. Growling, he looked at Lizzie with loathing, a flash of grudging admiration in his eyes.
"You only get one, Miss Cronut." He snapped his fingers, making Fred's bonds disappear. Behind him, Bastion and Axel quickly tossed away their scorecards, innocent smiles on their faces.
"Ha HA!" Fred rolled up onto his knees, holding his sides and convulsing with laughter. "Oh, Snotface– Bloody hell!" He gasped, wiping tears from his eyes. "I've been tellin' you to do things like that for forever! Whew! This is the best moment of my life! It's 'bout time you damn well started listening to me! Oh, that was brilliant! Shit, I love it! He looked just like—" Fred stopped, trying to catch his breath. "He looked just like he was about to poo!"
Falling into a fit of cackles, he rolled toward the other five gods, landing on his back. "Did ya see what a wicked right hook my Snotface's got? See! I told you she was different! No sane person would've done that!" He beamed and hopped to his feet, planting them with a stomp.
"Hey, Damion! When's my turn? I want my one shot, you ruddy bastard." He balled up his fists, boiling with enthusiasm.
Damion waved his hand, a silver strip of duct tape appearing and flying over Fred's mouth, sealing it tight. Fred's muffled cries just made Damion smile. Why, he didn't even care about his orange and green headache's colorful hand gestures.
"Much better."
Meanwhile, Lizzie had barely heard Fred's raucous laughter or jeers. Her anger had completely faded, replaced with an ache in her stomach. What was going to happen to her now? Would he throw her in a straightjacket? Put her in a padded room and forget her for all eternity? Or worse, would he send her back to die? Her eyes locked with Damion's and he glared back. Lizzie waited for her punishment, and prayed he wouldn't put her back in the coffin.
"What—" Her voice squeaked. "What now?"
"Now we demand a shrubbery!" Enzo shrieked, suddenly wearing pink overalls and a straw hat adorned with an enormous pink flower.
"I hate… you all." Damion flicked a photograph at Lizzie, showing her screaming inside the coffin. A second appeared in his hand and he took a moment to admire it. She looked absolutely terrified. "This may be my new favorite," he said, smiling as he dropped it into his scrapbook, the binder vanishing in a blink. Damion then eyed Fred with a sinister gaze.
"So. Given that she's here by your whining, and thanks to her outburst, I'll just have to figure out your favorite thing and ruin it so we're even."
Fred ripped off the duct tape and screamed. "Fucking hell, you wanker!" He patted his face, checking that everything was still in place before glaring at Damion. "Well, pfft!" He sent up a 'V' with his fingers. "Good luck with that. I have no secrets. You'd certainly use them against me if I did."
"Yes, you keep saying that, but I suspect the imaginary friend doth protest too much."
Lizzie frowned. What did Damion mean? Whatever he was getting at it, it left her with an ominous feeling and she wasn't sure she wanted to find out. She hoped she hadn't just sealed her fate by punching him in the face.
Really stupid, Lizzie.
Fred merely waved off the threat. "Whatever, now stop harping on the fact that you've been one-upped, and if anything it was an improvement to your ugly, ugly face."
Damion dismissively waved at Fred. "Just shut it, or if she fails I'll be sending you both to oblivion just so I won't have to listen to you pissants ever again." He pointed at Lizzie and then to his face. "I won't forget this... Now, back to business before I lose my patience."
Lizzie's eyes widened. Here it comes. I'm so dead. Again. This is too much for one person to handle.
"Time to..." Damion paused, grinning like a deranged Cheshire Cat. "Go!"
"Go?" Lizzie and Fred echoed.
"But aren't ya gonna show her anything else like you did with me?" Fred asked.
"What? Do you think I want to spend all my time with you lot?" Damion sneered. "Why would I lower myself to teach this cronut when I have you to do that, Frederik?"
Fred grimaced. "Oi. Don't call me that, or I'll smash in that dog's ass you call a face. It's Drop Dead Fred to you, tosser."
Damion rolled his eyes. "I say this with all the hatred I possess… GET OUT OF HERE, YOU SODDING MORONS!" Spittle flew from his mouth.
"Aw. We didn't have cake yet." Enzo pouted.
Bastion belched. "Sorry, I ate your fish."
"And I had a monologue prepared," said Axel.
"Mr. Herring!" Enzo screamed and began hitting Bastion with a plastic rake. "You bloody brute!"
Axel cleared his throat, a podium appearing before him as he donned black robes with a matching tam upon his head and small, rounded spectacles. When Enzo didn't stop his assault on Bastion, Axel made the rake disappear.
"Hey! That's my favorite rake! I use it to exfoliate!" Enzo cried.
Axel pretended not to hear and smiled at all of them; his audience. His public.
"Friends. Family. Denizens of the Other Otherworld... Welcome! We are gathered here to celebrate this momentous, and rather unheard of occasion. Our Former Imaginary Friend Acceptee, or FIFA. I coined that myself."
"Liar!" barked Bastion. "That's a bloody football organization and you know it!"
Axel put his nose in the air. "It is your word against mine." He adjusted his spectacles.
"No, it's reality against your delusions of grandeur!" cried Bastion.
"Show me your proof or stop interrupting me!" Axel straightened his robes, shooting Bastion a dirty look. "As I was saying, before that clearly deluded and uncouth pillock opened his big, fat mouth... Our FIFA, who's now in training to be an imaginary friend, will soon be returned to the Boring Place. Or in laymen's terms, the real word." He paused, making air quotes and rolled his eyes.
"She'll go back to Minnesota, which as you know is the thirty–second state which occurred on the eleventh of May, the year 1858. This calls to mind that I had also had an epiphany on this very day, and it occurred to me that brollies can be so cumbersome. So I had found a way to wear a brolly and keep my hands free. Thus, the brolly hat was born!"
Axel pulled off his tam, revealing a small blue and white umbrella attached to elastic, which fitted around his head.
Enzo clapped with enthusiasm. "That is one of my favorites! It gets better with every telling!"
"It's a stupid story!" Bastion sneered. "I can't believe you believe his twaddle."
"It isn't twaddle! It's a valuable piece of history, you insensitive twat!" Axel marched over and shoved Bastion.
"Oh that's it! I'll show you insensitive, you brolly fascist!" Bastion tackled Axel, wrestling him to the floor.
"Oh! A monologue and a show. Lovely!" Enzo sat on a stool which magically appeared beneath him. Flicking his wrists, he conjured a small table with a tea set and lace doilies. "Wonderful." He clapped, using his magic to pour himself a floating cup of tea. Enzo plucked both the cup and saucer from the air and sipped daintily.
"Ah! Perfectly lovely. Do go on with the show." Enzo waved his hand, swapping his overalls and straw hat for a ball gown, a large–brimmed hat, and a matching, oversized bow with an enormous feather – All of it, pink. "I've been dying to wear my tea ensemble."
Meanwhile, Lizzie was taking this all in with wide eyes, her mouth agape. Was this really happening to her? She could never imagine something so ridiculous in a million years. This was like an even more disturbing version of Alice in Wonderland.
And I'm actually at a tea party. A mad tea party. As an imaginary friend.
"Elizabeth!" Enzo waved. "Do have a cup of tea before you nip out to mini soda."
Lizzie suddenly found herself sitting on a stool, dressed in a frilly, pink frock, white stockings, and black shoes. She caught Fred grimacing at her in disgust from across the way, pantomiming for her to check the top of her head. Lizzie frowned, and reached up to discover a big bow nesting in her hair as Enzo floated a tea cup and saucer over to her. Lizzie took it without a word.
"Lovely!" Enzo sipped from his cup. "It's hard to be a woman, isn't it, Elizabeth? Men tend to be all alike, and so judgmental. Wouldn't you agree?"
"Umm..." Lizzie's eyes rounded and she blinked at Enzo. She could honestly say she had never been in a situation like this before and words escaped her. "I really haven't been with a lot of men," she said, trying to politely dodge the question. She cleared her throat.
"Well, alright then. You're a good, but violent girl. Good on ya," he said with a nod.
"Depends on what your definition of 'good' is, I suppose," Fred muttered. He itched to get out of there and Lizzie's outfit was just about too much, even for him. "You look like Little Bo Peep and a cupcake had a baby and then threw up on it!" He shifted, picking a wedgie out of his behind. He smiled. "Hey! My jockeys are back!"
Lizzie snapped her head to the side and glared at Fred, but before she could respond, Enzo chimed in.
"Who's having a baby? It's not me." He looked over at Lizzie, his hand tilted to his mouth. "I'm between gentlemen at the moment. It's been ages. Is today Wednesday? I do so love Never Say No Wednesdays!"
"I don't!" Cale huffed. "No one lets me do anything anymore."
"No one ever asks me what I want to do," Favian mumbled so quietly Lizzie barely heard him.
"Oh, I wish this was circumstantial..." Cale whined.
Bastion rolled his eyes. "Oh shut up, will you? Honestly! Your thought process is circumstantial!"
"That doesn't even make sense, you sodding scoundrel." Cale crossed his arm, defensively, making Bastion fume.
"Oh! Yes it does! More than yours did! Oh, I hate you! You're always on that word! Let it go!"
Cale pretended to buff his fingernails. "How can I let it go when you've all grounded me for almost a century? I ask you, who're the ones who need to let it go? Huh?!"
Lizzie set her tea cup and saucer down on the table. "I, um, thank you for the tea." She stood up and shuffled over to Fred.
"You're welcome, dear. Have fun in mini baking soda!" Enzo chirped.
Lizzie turned to Fred. "Is he always confused?"
"Which one?" he asked.
Lizzie opened her mouth to reply 'Enzo,' but then realized that all of them seemed confused. "Nevermind."
Fred sneered at the giant bow on top of her head. "I don't know whether to unwrap you or throw up."
Lizzie looked down, suddenly remembering her ridiculous outfit. "Well, it is a step up from a hospital gown."
His face instantly heated at the reminder of that outfit, and he crossed his arms, trying to shake away the image. "I'll get you fixed up when we get outta here. Maybe a nice muumuu would do the trick."
"I would just be happy with a pair of sweatpants and a clean shirt." Lizzie picked at the frilly dress and Fred joined her, reaching out and plucking at the fabric with a look of revulsion.
Slowly, his eyes glanced up to meet hers and due to the surrounding din from the bickering gods, he leaned close and whispered, "Glad to have you back, Snotface… and I'm sorry it's like this."
Lizzie nodded, unable to look him in the face. "Thanks." She sniffed. "I, I wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for you."
He smiled. "Hey, that's why I'm Drop Dead Fred." He wriggled his hips, picked his nose, and wiped his finger over the offending outfit. "Best friends 'til the end."
Lizzie managed a grin and wiped her dress. She picked her nose, wiping her finger onto Fred's jacket.
"Hey, let's have a dance off!" Enzo jumped off his stool. A hat piled with fruit swayed on his head as he spun and cha–chaed about with a pair of maracas.
Damion rubbed his temples vigorously. "I should just drop them all in a pit. A pit with no end. They would fall forever and ever," he mumbled to himself.
Lizzie shivered, his tone the most disturbing sound of all.
"I'm giving you one evening to get sorted," he said. "But before you go thanking me, know I was outvoted by my... colleagues." Damion said the word with such disdain, Lizzie imagined he had swallowed a mouthful of bitter worms.
"So use your time wisely, Frederik and Miss Cronut. You're going to need it." Damion looked over at Enzo. "You may have pulled a fast one with your vote this time, but I won't be forgetting this. Ever."
Enzo merely smiled and glanced at Lizzie. "You're welcome. I do so love helping the underdog."
Fred rolled his eyes. He didn't know what Enzo's game was, but he certainly wasn't going to trust any of them. "Fine. Thanks. Come along, Snotface." He held out his hand for her to take. "It's time to go."
Lizzie's unease started to fade as she took his hand. "So, how do we get back?"
"Magic. Good lord, have you forgotten everything already?" He turned to face her, holding his arms out to his sides as though waiting for a hug. "Better hold on tight, though. I've never actually done this with another person. Wouldn't want to end up going back with only half of you. You've been in pieces enough today."
"Half?" Lizzie squeaked. "What in the hell does that even mean?"
"You know, half here, half there. It's not bloody rocket science!"
"That's not helping!" Lizzie hissed.
"Oh, this is off to a cracking start already!" Damion cackled. "I can't wait for the rest!"
"Pipe down, you reject outta The Omen!" yelled Fred. "I've got work to do." He sneered, brushing off the front of his jacket as he turned back to Lizzie. "Look, I promise to come back for anything that might fall off– I'm not saying it will. Don't you trust me?" He gave her a look that mixed both hurt and innocence.
"I don't want a promise you'll come back for my parts! I want a promise they won't fall off or get left behind in the first place!" Lizzie gestured wildly in a panic.
"So, I save your life and you get all high maintenance?"
"I am not high maintenance! I have been hit by a truck, died, put in a fake hospital, made to think I died, again, and now I have to learn to be an imaginary friend or I will die, permanently! So I don't think wanting to keep all my body parts in their place is too much to ask!" Lizzie shouted at full volume, shaking with outrage. "So keep my body parts where they're supposed to be or I'll rearrange some of yours!"
Fred flicked his tongue over his lips, trying to assess whether to take this any further, but Damion's watchful gaze told him all he needed.
Scoffing, he crossed his arms and leaned in, coming face to face with Lizzie. "Is that so?" he asked, squinting.
"If I can't make good on my word today, so help me I will when I figure this madness out!"
"Well, first thing's first though, Snotface…"
Fred lunged at her, wrapping his arms tight around her waist in a bear hug. Lizzie gasped and he quickly used his magic to start their transition back to the real world. A swirl of green lights spun around them, joined by the purple orbs of Lizzie's new powers.
Lizzie screamed as she felt this odd sensation of being pulled and pushed, almost like moving in and out of a vacuum. She glared at Fred. "I hate you!" she cried, but clung to him for fear of losing her parts. Fred smiled.
"Loathe you, too," he answered. "Heads up, this next part might zing a little." Together they blinked into little orbs of green and purple, swirling like crazed fireflies before disappearing from the Other Otherworld.
At that moment, Enzo turned around from his dancing and dropped his arms to his sides. "And they didn't even say good bye. Oh well." He shrugged and resumed dancing.
Fred and Lizzie rematerialized, with all parts accounted for, back in the real world.
"Finally!" he cried, jumping back from Lizzie. "I never thought we'd get out of that Other Other Shithole with those bastards."
Lizzie opened her eyes to find herself standing in Mickey Bunce's backyard near Natalie's tree house. She shivered as a strange tickle of electricity coursed through her from re–entering the real world, scaring her. Wait. Was she all here?
Promptly, she took an inventory of her body parts. "Five fingers on each hand… Two arms, legs, feet… dress." Yep. She still wore that absurd outfit. "Fred?" She looked up at him. "I see my parts are all here. Can we do something about this?" She held up the edge of her dress.
"Yeah, we can burn it," he said, eyes widening as he spied the monstrosity. "No matter how much I stare at it, I swear it looks like a doily ate cotton candy and shit it out." He shuddered. "Alright." He snapped his fingers, creating a spark of green around Lizzie. The frilly ensemble from hell blinked away, replaced by a white shirt, gray sweatpants, and white Keds shoes. "There. Happy?"
Lizzie sighed contentedly at her new attire. "Thank you. This might seem silly, but it's nice to be in just regular clothes."
"Good. Least something's gone right today." His gaze searched the night sky, trying to sense whether the gods' ever-prying eyes still spied on them or not. "By the way, Snotface, you weren't in any real danger of losing your bits. Least not in my hands. I'm Drop Dead Fred! I know what I'm doing! Plus, I've traveled with you before. Remember when we went away to that house in your imagination, before you didn't need me anymore? Same thing!" He shrugged flippantly as Lizzie looked up at him.
"And you couldn't have explained that before we left?" She shook her head, too rattled to have two disagreements at once. "Look, I know you're Drop Dead Fred, but trusting you to magic me from the Twilight Zone back to… here, is asking a lot." She looked around the yard. "I never thought I would see this place again. I never thought I'd die either. I—"
Lizzie clamped her hands over her mouth, struggling to keep her tears at bay, but Fred's grief-stricken expression became too much. She turned away, not wanting him to see her break down.
"Hey… Hey, Snotface, don't cry," he said, his voice cracking with remorse. "You're alright. It's not—"
Shit, how do I fix this?
He stopped talking before he lost it, everything from the day flooding him in this moment.
Not now. Please not now, he pleaded, shaking under the struggle to bury it all back inside. Fred swallowed hard, focusing instead on the future, and promising himself that no matter what happened Lizzie would stay an imaginary friend. He'd make sure of it.
Stepping closer, Fred reached with hesitation and touched her shoulder. "Snotface? It's gonna be okay. I promise." His voice hitched with the slight reveal of his own anxieties. "You… You got me. Remember that."
Lizzie barely heard Fred. She was trying to hold on to what little sanity she had left. Everything just felt so overwhelming. How do you cope with being almost dead and not really existing? She swore, if she didn't know Fred to know this was possible...
Realization dawned on her. She knew someone who knew how all of this felt. Even if he never liked to talk about his past. Fred knew what it was like to not be part of the real world anymore.
Sniffling, Lizzie looked up into his eyes. "Fred, how do you handle this? I mean, besides being crazy, how do you handle being not real anymore?"
Fred exhaled under the weight of that question, his eyes widening in contemplation. Honestly, for him the answer was simple; he'd never liked being in the real world anyway. He barely remembered a time after entering adolescence when he had been sober, so the transition to imaginary friend had been a welcome one for him. Mostly, anyway.
"Truthfully? I try to think of it as I'm still real, because I do still exist whether or not most people can see me. Not like most people tried to see me when I was human anyway…" he muttered. "It helps, in most circumstances, other times it's shit because there's some things I miss about being human. All of us do." He gave her a soft smile, hoping it comforted her. "Not gonna lie, it's hard at first, but you get use to it. I remember asking Damion if he was mad when he told me I was gonna be an imaginary friend." He snorted. "Most absurd thing I'd ever heard!"
Lizzie listened carefully. It felt strange to hear Fred giving her an honest, straight forward answer, but refreshing nonetheless.
"I suppose I do exist. I mean, I am real. You can see me." Lizzie managed a half smile. "I understand about feeling invisible. I think I felt invisible my whole life. Except for when my mother was yelling at me or when Charles paid attention to me. I think that was the attraction. Someone so good-looking and successful was paying me attention, made me feel special." Lizzie suddenly pulled a face. "Of course he turned out to be a self-absorbed, liar and a cheater, but I guess you can't always win in love."
Fred could not contain his expression of disgust as she spoke of Charles, but it faded into a frown the longer he watched Lizzie. He really felt sorry for her, not to mention guilty for all those years she'd been subject to her mother making her that desperate for love. Part of him still felt if he hadn't messed up, Lizzie might have had a better life.
"Wait, you never said... What do you miss about being human?" Lizzie tilted her head as she looked at Fred, wondering what it could be.
Fred froze, staring blankly into her eyes like a lost, frightened animal. Well, he hadn't expected her to actually ask him that one. "Uh." He reached up, scratching the back of his head. "Little things, I suppose," he said, trying hard to remember. "Chocolate cakes, getting to dream, feeling the sunshine. Alcohol's a big one." He laughed. "Having another pair of jockeys is high on my list right now."
Lizzie let out a small chuckle. "I suppose that would be on my list if I was wearing the same underwear for more than twenty years." She felt some of the weight come off her shoulders. "Can't you change what you're wearing? You change, I've seen it. Do the shorts always stay?" Lizzie looked down at that region. "Are you stuck with them forever?"
Crossing his arms, Fred laughed. "I can change them, but there's really no point. They can't get dirty anymore from just wearing 'em." He snapped his fingers at her. "And hey, my eyes are up here." He gestured with a smirk.
Lizzie suddenly realized where she was looking and snapped her head up to see Fred's smirking face. "I– Sorry! I was... I—" Lizzie shook her head, not even sure what to say anymore, she just gaped at Fred. This had turned awkward.
Fred snickered, quite proud of himself for making Lizzie so damn flustered, and his grin showed it.
"So, what now? How do you turn me into an imaginary friend?" she asked, wanting to change the subject, but also genuinely wanting to know. She relaxed when the mischievous grin faded from his features.
"First of all, you already are an imaginary friend, so start thinking that way. You just haven't learned how to walk yet." He glanced up at the window to Natalie's bedroom. "We're gonna have to practice at night when Nat's asleep, or at school, but the first thing we gotta do is work on you feeling that magic you got bubbling around inside you. Every one of us has it in a different place." He leaned forward, closing one eye and trying to peer into her ear until Lizzie batted him away.
"Hold on. How am I supposed to learn to walk? I don't even think I can crawl at this point." Lizzie sighed, feeling hopeless and at the mention of Natalie her heart sank. "She really can't see me, right? That crazy Damion said only you can. I couldn't handle explaining things to her, plus if she told Mickey that she could see me he'd probably stick her in therapy." Lizzie groaned. "This is a mess."
"If that bastard was telling the truth, then yeah, I'm the only one who can see you. Kinda weird, though… Never had an imaginary friend. Figures I'd get a Snotface, though." He smirked, trying to lighten the mood a little more for her. "And you're in luck because I can sense magic in other imaginary friends. Should save us a bit of time on figuring out where yours is." He smiled wider, wiggling his fingers excitedly. "If you don't mind?"
"Whoa! But I still don't understand. What does location of magic matter? Why is magic in different places?" Lizzie shook her head. "I never thought I would have this kind of conversation. Ever."
"Pfft, then this is what you get for opening Jack–in–the–boxes, or answering phone calls," he quipped, forgetting himself. "And it doesn't matter. Enzo just loves scavenger hunts, so he voted to have the magic housed in different places. Mine's in my belly button." He patted his stomach, lifting his shirt, and leaning back to stick out his belly for her to see.
Lizzie blinked, stunned into silence, but it didn't last long. "Wait a minute. What do phone calls have to do with you? Are you just pulling my leg?" She stared at Fred, trying to read him. "And of course, I should have known someone like Enzo would have something to do with magic in belly buttons." She rolled her eyes. "If mine is in my nipples, I'll kill him."
Fred's gaze immediately drifted down to the front of Lizzie's chest at that last comment with a sudden flash of heat simultaneously pulsing over his body. The memory of that flying circus incident back in the Other Otherworld didn't help. "Uh—" His voice broke. "I– I wouldn't be surprised one bit if you ended up with magic tits, actually," he said, thinking on Damion and his ridiculous obsession with outing him over something he knew with certainty he didn't feel for Lizzie.
Blinking, Fred tore himself from his strange trance. She had asked him about something else, hadn't she?
"Phone calls? Oh, yeah… You, uh, wouldn't remember the phone call, would you? Nevermind then, it's not important. We've got work to do, so would you like to ask me anything else?" He bounced nervously on his heels, plotting a way to change the subject into a safer direction. Sometimes he forgot that Lizzie didn't distract as easily as she once did.
"Now who was staring?" demanded Lizzie, unsure if she should be outraged or amused. She thought she saw Fred's cheeks turn red, but she couldn't be sure. Fred was looking at anything but her. Deciding she was wrong, Lizzie crossed her arms over her chest just to be safe, and was about to announce her indignation over the idea of magic breasts when she realized Fred was actually talking about a specific phone call. "What do you mean I wouldn't remember the phone call? What're you talking about?"
"Who knows, I'm a crazy person, remember?" He pointed a finger at his head, making exaggerated circles, and crossing his eyes. "So come on! Let's go smash something! I promise it's a lot more fun when no one else can see you—"
"No!" Lizzie pointed her finger right at Fred's face. "You were talking about something like I should remember it. What phone call?" She crossed her arms again, glaring at him, until Fred's expression fell in defeat.
"UGH! I guess you're not gonna let this go. You're so much more difficult since you had to go and grow up," he lamented, not quite sure why he telling her this part of his past made him so uncomfortable. Although when you opened one door, more questions tended to follow… "Fine," he said, his voice suddenly growing soft. "You and I spoke… when I was still human."
Lizzie froze. Her brain processed the words, but she didn't understand them at all. Human? When Fred was still human… She heard the phrase over and over in her mind, but it still didn't make sense. "That's impossible," she whispered, her eyes on Fred, but unable to focus. She just stared, lost.
"Not really. See, uh, remember that photo you were looking at in the kitchen? The one of me behind your wanker uncle?"
"Photo?" Lizzie tried to think back. She had gone to her mother's and helped with her uncle's things.
For a brief moment Lizzie wondered how her mother was handling her accident and almost asked Fred, but realized she didn't want to know the answer. She was afraid she already did.
"Yeah, he and I had a run in a bit before that moment." Fred continued. "Bastard wouldn't let me use the phone. Well he left in an awful hurry, can't imagine why." He shrugged. "And when I got in the booth, your mother was on the other end of the phone in all her unholy glory. She kept shouting at me, and then at you. It was downright heinous, so I called her a megabitch, and she hung up like a coward."
Fred paused, smiling almost sadly at the next memory, a distant look in his eyes. "But guess who'd snuck on the line? You wanted to run away with me for bein' so nice to you. You latched on so quick. Guess I made an impression because you're the reason I was sent to you. Supposedly you picked me." He looked down at his feet, unsure of what else to do with himself. "I mean, I guess you wouldn't remember. You were six, but see, it's your fault," he muttered.
For what seemed like the hundredth time that day, Lizzie was completely stunned. She had actually spoken to Fred. She stared at him in amazement, mouth agape.
"It was you! You were on the other end of the phone!" Elation pulsed through her. "I can't believe it! You were my imaginary friend before you were my imaginary friend!" She laughed, so close to tears now. "You spoke to my mother like no one else and you made me feel like I wasn't stupid or terrible. I imagined you after that. I would pretend we did run away together and we had great adventures." Lizzie wiped her eyes. "You saved me, Fred. For that short while before you actually came, I wasn't alone."
Fred started to choke up as well and it both surprised and terrified him. He quickly tried to shake it off before she noticed, or before he threw up. This was uncharted territory because he had taught himself to never feel anything. Emotions kept you weak and left you empty. No, it was better to feel nothing and if those bloody annoying feelings tried to take over then he would just drink them into oblivion or take something to help him feel numb. At least, that was what he had done when he had been alive. After becoming an imaginary friend he just threw himself into being off his nut and doing whatever he wanted to help his charges.
Thinking back, nothing and no one in his old life had ever stuck around long enough for him get sentimental over, even as an imaginary friend he moved on pretty quickly to the next charge, avoiding any second thoughts or memories. Lizzie was the exception. He hadn't wanted to leave her and it seemed she kept coming back to him. Out of everything she remained the only constant.
He sighed. He still couldn't believe that anyone had wanted someone like him around, let alone the sweet, little girl Lizzie had been. Or even the adult she had become. He smiled softly, realizing that Lizzie had come back to stay, and he could keep it that way. It felt good to have her back, and he hadn't anticipated how happy hearing about their first conversation would make her. She deserved some happiness after today's events, and he suddenly felt more inclined to reveal at least a little more about his past. It seemed a small way to make amends for the shit those bastard gods had put her through.
"You were my first friend, too," he admitted. "And my first charge."
Lizzie laughed, pleasantly surprised to see Fred affected by her revelation as well. To hear that she was his first friend deeply touched her. She wiped her eyes and smiled widely.
"Drop Dead Fred, under that crazy, angry exterior is a total softy." Lizzie stepped forward and hugged him around his waist, clinging tightly. "Thank you for being my friend."
Fred tensed in her embrace. "Soft?" he chirped, leaning away enough to look at her. "I'm not soft! Why I'm the hardest man you'll ever see. I'm stiffer than whiskey, your magic nipples, and the hair on your mother's upper lip." He squirmed and wriggled free of her arms.
Damion better not've seen that hug. That's all I need, he thought as he looked about the yard. He'd read into it. She's my first charge, of course she's special! I don't have feelings!
"And keep your girly ideals to yourself, or next time I'll have to be sick all over you," he shouted, folding his arms with indignance. "But, you're welcome, I guess…" he added, "...so thanks for answering the phone. You've been a good friend, too. For a Snotface." Fred kicked at the grass. "Hey!" His blue eyes suddenly sparkled with the shift of his mood. "Tell you what, since you've had such an awful day, and I'm still not a softy, by the way, I'll let you ask me three more things. One about me, and two about anything else you wish to know."
Lizzie inwardly sighed. Same old Fred. She wasn't surprised that his reaction became so volatile, especially where feelings were concerned, and yet she started to feel they hid something more. He professed that she was a good friend to him, which pleased her, but at the same time she still felt disappointed that he hadn't given her more. As a child she had assumed Fred as just one of those people who didn't really express emotions, almost like her mother, but Fred was different.
While her mother used manipulation and seemed incapable to express genuine love, Fred showed, at times, that he did care. Yes, he liked to rant and rave about things being 'girly' or 'disgusting,' but when she had needed him, he had always been there to support and encourage her. He had helped her stand up to Charles and her mother.
Lizzie thought it over. Fred was sympathetic, but he never divulged things about himself, and certainly didn't like to express emotion. She pondered his offer. From Fred, it was generous. An actual offer to give her information about himself. She looked at him, trying not to fidget, and suddenly smiled.
"I propose a counteroffer. Let me ask you three questions about whatever I want, including you." Her eyebrows rose expectantly, as she wondered how he would react.
"About me?" He visibly flinched in surprise. Lizzie had never asked him anything about himself before today. Well, maybe once or twice when he'd first shown up, but he'd quickly nipped that curiosity. Three questions about anything? That could get dangerous. Sure, he did want to share, but was it so wrong that he controlled the areas they delved into? Her proposal left him feeling vulnerable, and he hated it. There had to be a way he could still get around this 'anything' nonsense and still make her happy. As Drop Dead Fred he was her friend and hero; if he became just 'Fred,' or worse, well who knew what he'd be to her. He frowned, suddenly feeling very human again by the situation. It was downright disgusting.
I knew it. I always knew sharing was a bad idea.
However, the hopeful, curious expression on Lizzie's face left him conflicted and curious about what she wanted to hear.
Stepping closer, Fred pensively met her gaze. Maybe he'd just test the waters. "What's there you'd want to know about me now? You never asked before."
Lizzie had been prepared for a refusal, not a question. Now, she didn't know how to respond and she had a feeling 'because' wouldn't cut it.
"Well…" she started, trying to think of a sufficient response. "I didn't need to know when I was a child. You were just Drop Dead Fred. You made life fun and exciting, and you were my friend." Lizzie sighed deeply, picking at the hem of her shirt as she tried to focus her thoughts.
"Now, with all these new revelations I realize I don't know you." Lizzie frowned, her frustration evident. "I don't mean I don't know you." She clenched her fists. "I don't know what I want to say!" She turned around and started pacing. "I know you're my friend, and now I know you lived in the sixties." She spun on her heels, facing him. "I know we spoke on the phone and that you were kind to me." At the thought, her features softened. "You were my first friend." She looked down.
"It's just that now I realize what a mystery you are to me." Her head lifted again and she stared into his eyes. "I want to know what you wanted to do before…" She stopped, swallowing before she made the effort to continue. "Before you became an imaginary friend. I want to know if your childhood sucked too and if that's why you understand me." She bit her lip and finally pleaded, "I want to know if you think I can do this."
For a long moment, Fred stayed silent and he pursed his lips together in contemplation. Two of those questions he could certainly work with, the other would take some special finagling on his end. "I'll answer all three," he said at last, "but it's gonna cost ya. You have to make me a promise." Crossing his arms over his chest, he smiled and Lizzie blinked in surprise.
"Okay…" she answered. Fred seemed to surprise her in ways he hadn't before. "What do I have to promise?"
"You gotta let me liven up the disaster funeral your mother's got in the works for ya." He rubbed his palms together with vigor.
Lizzie stared. "What exactly are you planning? I'm not agreeing to anything until I know you aren't going to push her into the grave and throw dirt over her." She smothered her smile, trying to appear stern.
"Aw, come on, Snotface!" He stomped his foot. "You'll ruin all the fun if you know, or slap stupid rules like that on me. Which, by the way, great idea with the dirt." His grin faded. "Although… is your mother even allowed on holy ground? Would she just burn in a blaze of demon bitch and pencil skirts? Hmm." He scratched his chin. "Not sure how I'm gonna top that now."
Lizzie rolled her eyes, but inside she was glad to see Fred in true form.
"Yes, I'm a terrible person for not wanting to ruin a funeral. MY funeral, I might add." She shook her head. "This is still so weird." She looked at Fred. "I know you want to get back at my mother, but I'm not sure causing chaos at a funeral's the best way to do it." Lizzie turned somber for a minute. "It won't be just her who's there. It'll be Mickey and Natalie and Janie." She frowned, remembering the people she cared about who she wouldn't ever see again.
"Why don't you pick a different place for your vendetta? You can go after her at the salon or her aerobics class." Lizzie smiled winningly, hoping Fred would agree.
Fred scowled. If you knew what I heard her say about you, you'd be singing a different tune, he thought. His anger toward Polly returned. "Why can't I? Why, because it wouldn't be the same if I did it anywhere else. Ironic justice, and all that. Or whatever they call it." He rolled his eyes. "You gotta start thinking like an imaginary friend, Snotface. We're not so concerned with hoity–toity funeral etiquette. We do what's fun, what's best for our charges, and what gets the most attention to get the job done. Sense gets in the way of all that. So if I want to light a coffin on fire, I'll do it!" He flicked her on the forehead, leaning in front of her face. "So stop being Miss Grownup Funeral Fascist and unbunch those panties!" He contorted his face and finished by grotesquely sticking out his tongue.
Lizzie grimaced. This was going to be harder than she thought. She didn't really want to crash her own funeral. It seemed wrong on so many levels. She thought over what it had been like as a child. Doing things she wasn't supposed to had been great, but then the fallout came, and the punishment. Her punishment; never her imaginary friend's punishment. Now that Fred belonged to Natalie, she'd get the blame, wouldn't she? She'd be punished for something she didn't really do. This imaginary friend thing didn't seem so simple. Was there even a balance?
"So I have to cause chaos in my wake because it's fun? Because I get a kick out of it and my charge will too? Sure! Let's burn the whole damn cemetery down because I don't have to live with the consequences! Let's just do whatever the hell we want because we won't be the ones getting yelled at! Let's wreck my funeral because it's fun! Oh, wait! I can't because I can't even do anything! I'm a useless imaginary friend who can't even change her appearance." Lizzie's chest was heaving. She stared at Fred, surprised by her own outburst. She groaned and covered her face with her hands. "If I fail I'll really be dead and it won't matter."
Fred paled. He'd gone too far, hadn't he? Guilt flooded him and so did fear of losing her for good. His fists clenched. He didn't want to think about it anymore. In fact, he preferred this accursed day would just piss itself out of existence so they could both wake up tomorrow without any worries of doom and gloom.
Hesitating, Fred reached out and wrapped his arms around Lizzie's waist. "I'm… sorry, 'Lizabeth," he whispered, the words faltering on his tongue. He sighed. "Forget the promise. Just… ask me again?"
Lizzie froze. It seemed so rare to be held like this, and it felt so comforting that she just wanted the moment to last. Slowly, she relaxed and leaned into Fred. Lizzie felt calm and didn't want to ruin this peace with questions.
Carefully, she extracted her arms and wrapped them around Fred's neck, holding on in a gentle bear hug. "Fred," she said softly. "Isn't there a way to freeze time and just stay this way? No crazy gods, no imaginary friend classes, no funerals, just us and whatever we imagine?" Lizzie was afraid she knew the answer, but she could at least pretend otherwise.
Fred's eyes closed, his head resting atop hers, and for the briefest of moments he, too relaxed, forgetting his discomfort with letting down his guard. She felt so small and warm in his arms and it made him want to protect her even more from Damion and his fools. But, with Lizzie's question, his heartbeat quickened, suddenly making him very aware of everything once again.
"If… If there was I would've used it dozens of times already," he said. "You're not getting sent away, Lizzie. I know everything about you, and you've got what it takes. You just gotta believe in you like I believe in you," he said gently with his cheek pressed against her soft hair. The urge to pull away flared, the closeness odd for him, but he stayed, knowing she needed him.
Lizzie smiled. "What moment would you want to stay in? Burglarizing the house? Making mud pies?" She laughed, thinking on her favorite, but fleeting memories from childhood. "I don't know what I would choose." Lizzie nearly said 'this moment,' but feared ruining it by pointing it out. It was just nice to feel protected and cared for. Lizzie didn't think she had ever really received that in her life. Her father had tried before he left, but it wasn't much. Janie and Mickey had been good to her, but no one ever stood up for her like Fred. He was her best friend and protector, and he believed in her. Somehow she needed to believe too.
Fred chuckled. "Those were great times. I'd take any of those. Plus the time we convinced your grandmother the china had a poltergeist."
Lizzie laughed. "Poor grandma."
Absently he played with the fabric on the hem of her shirt, his other hand upon her waist. "I suppose I'd also freeze the moment before you and I got separated. Both of them." He squeezed her tighter, and she returned it.
"I was so heartbroken when Mother locked you away in that Jack–in–the–box. I wrote you every day, but she kept finding my letters and throwing them in the trash. I finally snuck one and hid it so she wouldn't find it." Lizzie sighed. "I was so mad and hurt at her for doing that to you, to me. I think deep down I still haven't forgiven her. I don't know if I can. I feel like she doesn't deserve it."
Lizzie shook her head. "I'm just glad I got you back and you helped me. I didn't know how much I still needed you." She squeezed him tighter. "I guess I still need you since I can't seem to stay out of trouble." She laughed. "It's stupid, but I can't live without you." Laughing harder, she added, "It's the absolute truth."
"There, you see? Even more proof you belong here. You just needed ol' Fred to raise hell and spit in the right faces. The day I dropped dead turned out to be the luckiest day for you, didn't it?" He laughed, pinching her sides, tickling her.
Lizzie laughed, and tried to dodge his attack. "No!" She squealed, but he refused to give up. "I take it back! I don't need you!" She was crying with laughter now. "You fight dirty!" She released her hold on his neck and tried to escape. "Stop! I swear I'll sneeze right now!"
Snorting, Fred yanked her tight against himself so she couldn't squirm away. "Go ahead!" he taunted, stopping his assault. "I'll just wipe the bogeys all over you!"
"You're awful!" Lizzie panted, trying to recover her breath. "I can't believe you'd fight so dirty!" Catching herself, she laughed. "Okay, I know you would, but that's beside the point." Lizzie met Fred's gaze. "I'll get you back. Just wait."
"Go ahead." He sniggered. "I've got eyes in the back of my head! You'll never get the drop on me. I've got dirtier skills than you any day," he taunted, his nose wrinkling as he smiled.
"Go ahead. Underestimate me. We'll see who's smug and who's left crying in the mud." She grinned, feeling like they were back in sync. Lizzie and Fred, partners in crime.
"Crying in the mud?" he exclaimed, bringing his face closer to hers. "I don't think so. You'll see me making mud pies outta your mud, then throwing them back in your smug face."
Lizzie blew a loud raspberry. "Please, I think we're past mud pies. This isn't six-year-old Lizzie you're dealing with. I happen to be an imaginary friend. The playing field has evened." She made a face. "Well, nearly even," she said, waving that thought away.
Grimacing, Fred wiped the spittle from his eyes, but grinned as she finally called herself an imaginary friend. He found relief and a bit of pride in hearing those words coming from her. Maybe it wouldn't be so hard for her to adjust after all.
"Before we get into more challenges and my imaginary friend education I have some questions to ask." Her hand went to her chin, and she scrunched her face as she looked closely at Fred. "Why do you—"
Lizzie closed her mouth with a snap. Her initial question was perhaps too loaded, pushing the bounds, and she didn't want any more angst today. She'd save it for later. Much later. So, what else did she want to know about Fred?
"What were you like as a child?" she asked.
Fred took a deep breath and a step back. "Well…" He paused, running his hand through his hair. "I was sad. Alone a lot. I had a big imagination and an even bigger mouth." His gaze lowered to the grass. It felt so strange talking about this, and so long ago it almost felt like it wasn't his own past anymore, but the feelings told him otherwise.
"Can't say I was very liked by the other children," he said. "I was also a lot more like you were. Timid. I got picked on a bunch, so I learned to keep to myself."
Lizzie listened to Fred's response in silence, paying close attention to every word. His revelation broke her heart, but it also brought her a small bit of comfort because they were the same. Two lost children who had found each other. They had a strong connection; now it was even stronger.
"Thank you. I'm sorry your childhood sucked as much as mine." Lizzie offered him a half-smile. "I guess birds of a feather and all that other garbage." She laughed, making him smirk. "So, on to question two… I suppose I would like to know what you were doing in 1969."
"Still breathing," he replied, a knot in the pit of his stomach as she hit the question he preferred to avoid. Fred shot her a hopeful grin, but the look on her face told him she wasn't in the mood for another joke. He sighed. Lizzie was right; she really didn't know him and he supposed he did owe her more information about himself. Especially since the chance of her not being around for much longer was very real if he cocked this up… In fact, he may only have this one chance to come clean, and he didn't have to tell her every last detail.
"I was a salesman, of sorts," he said, choosing his words very carefully. "I worked for a friend and his girl. We came to the states together to make a bit of a profit." Fred crossed his arms, trying his best to hide the agitation he felt over remembering Roland. He began to pace wildly before Lizzie.
"Which I was very good at doing, by the way," he added. "Until we had a bit of a disagreement in the end." Fred shook as though he'd just received a shiver and bounced on his heels, shifting quickly to flash a smile at Lizzie. "And then I met you. The end."
Lizzie stared at Fred skeptically. "You were a salesman…" She frowned. "Really? You did customer service? With actual people?" She glared at Fred. "Are you bullshitting me?"
"Of course not! I can be charming, you know." He rolled his eyes, grinned, and hopped into a shrugging pose that could only become more ostentatious by a spotlight's shine on him.
Lizzie was not amused. Fred wasn't going to get away with his usual antics. Not today. She crossed her arms over her chest, pursing her lips. She was going to get her answers.
"Look, if you don't want to tell me things, then say so, don't give me the run around or treat me like an idiot." Lizzie took a deep breath. "I understand you have things you might not want to talk about, but I hope you'll try to be honest with me."
Fred's pose deflated, and for a moment he looked at her, trying to decide if he could trust her with his past. Lizzie had led such a clean and ultra-sheltered life, so he had no idea what she'd think of him if she knew the truth. He noticed her posture relax, and slowly she reached out for him until her hand gently squeezed his shoulder.
"Fred, I will never think less of you. Ever," she whispered.
His eyes closed. He just couldn't bring himself to say it while looking at Lizzie. "Fine, I sold drugs," he said quickly, wincing when silence followed, but he forced himself to peek at her. She just stood there with surprise in her eyes.
That's it? she thought. True, that was something that most people wouldn't be proud of, but it wasn't the worst thing in the world. She shook her head. "Wow, I completely think less of you now," she said, keeping her expression blank and waiting for his reaction.
"What?!" Fred jumped back, a glare covering his flash of hurt. "Oh thanks. Some friend you are. Oh, Fred!" he said, pitching his voice higher to mimic Lizzie, "I promise I won't care. Tell me!" He blew a loud raspberry at her, and said in his own voice, "Gee, thanks SO much! I hate you." He crossed his arms, sulking like a child.
Lizzie grinned when Fred started speaking in that high-pitched voice, but after his last declaration she burst out laughing. Fred's mouth dropped and she couldn't stop herself to tell him she hadn't meant it.
"Hey! Stop it, ya hyena!" he shouted. His heart pounded. What the fuck was so damn funny about—
Fred's eye only got bigger. Had she just tricked him? "Hey. Wait a minute… You didn't? Oi! Stop it! You don't get to laugh at me. Oh, ha ha ha! I knew you were joking the whole time!"
Lizzie only laughed harder. She hadn't expected Fred to get so taken in by her joke, and his reaction when he figured it out was even funnier. She kept trying to respond, but inevitably dissolved into more and more laughter. Tears leaked from her eyes and she could hardly breathe. It took all she had to finally get herself back under control.
"Are you done?" he snipped. Lizzie looked over at a slightly outraged Fred.
"I'm sorry it was just too good to pass up." She tried to suppress the aftershock giggles that threatened to escape. "And you didn't know I was joking!"
Fred clenched his jaw. "I did so. You're such a snotface."
Lizzie grinned. Yes, he was less than amused with her, but it delighted her to no end. "Okay, Fred. Whatever you say." Her grin remained, but she didn't want to make him truly mad at her. "So, is that your deep, dark secret? You sold drugs?"
"One of 'em. Are you gonna piss yourself laughing if I tell you anything else?" He shot her a look. "You know I'm not changing your clothes again if you soil yourself." Secretly, though, he was almost impressed with her sneakiness. Almost.
Lizzie hid her grin. It wouldn't make him happy with her if she kept smiling about her joke. "I won't." His comment brought a thought to her mind. "Wait, is that possible? Do we need to eat and go, ya know, to the bathroom anymore?"
Fred smiled mischievously. "Why don't we wait and let you find out."
It was Lizzie's turn to shoot him a look. "If I do then I'm wiping my dirty underwear on you." She rolled her eyes, not willing to give Fred the satisfaction of seeing her sweat about it. She decided to get back to her questions. "So, is there anything else you did in the sixties that you don't want me to know about?"
"Wipe your dirty…? Well, obviously I've rubbed off on you quite a lot." He chortled with some pride. "But that's disgusting," he said with an impressed grin. His apprehension nagged at him from the back corners of his mind.
I hate these questions.
"Awfully interested in my secrets," he said. "You and Damion looking to write a book?"
Lizzie laughed at his response, but the humor vanished when he mentioned the chief madman from the Other Otherworld. "Don't mention me and him in the same sentence." Her thoughts snapped to that awful coffin trick he had pulled, making her simultaneously outraged and traumatized all over again. Lizzie trembled at the memory and turned away so she wouldn't have to look at Fred as she fought to calm down. The reaction left Fred befuddled.
Was she joking again? Or was she really upset? He didn't want to watch another raucous display at his expense, and Fred suddenly realized it was a bit harder to read Lizzie when he didn't have the advantage of being her imaginary friend.
Things were so much easier when I had that emotional connection. Wait a second… If she's now technically my imaginary friend, does that mean she can feel me? Oh, fuck that.
The question left him feeling very exposed and Fred watched her with worry. No. No, she probably couldn't sense him at this point. He instantly relaxed.
Looks like I'm safe, for now.
"So, Snotface," he said, hoping to change the subject. "You had that photo of me. What are your guesses about my secrets?"
Lizzie shrugged. She suddenly felt tired, like she had aged ten years in a matter of days. In a way, maybe she had. Today had certainly taken a toll on her, both mentally and emotionally. The only thing unchanged was her physical self. Thinking it over, Lizzie realized that if she succeeded and became an actual imaginary friend she wouldn't age anymore. She didn't know how to feel about that.
"I can't really remember the photo. It seems like forever ago since I looked at it." She tried to picture it, but all she could really remember was her uncle and Fred. Turning to face him, she said, "I don't know. What were you doing? How did you end up hijacking my uncle's phone call?"
"That…" He shoved his hands in his pockets, trying to think, and rocked from heel to toe several times. "You know, I don't really know. I was tripping on acid at the time."
Lizzie's brows shot up at this revelation. "Acid?" She didn't know how to process that. "You were a dealer and a user?" Surprise mixed with sadness and disappointment like a whirlpool inside her.
"Aha! There it is!" he said, pointing at her face. That was the look he'd been afraid of. "See there? I'm different now, aren't I?" His voice dropped lower. "I knew this was a bad idea."
Lizzie immediately felt terrible. "No! I don't think less of you! Yes, it's disappointing, if I'm honest, but I don't think you're some kind of terrible person." She stepped forward and gripped his arms, causing his eyes to lock with hers. "Fred, you made some bad choices. I can't hate you for it and I'm not going to think less of you for it, either." She made sure to keep her gaze with his so he'd see how much she meant it. "Thank you for being honest with me."
At first, Fred experienced only confusion, but felt a warm flutter grow inside him. Did she really mean that? Was this what it felt like to be accepted? Astonished, he stared at Lizzie in pleasant surprise and smiled. "Consider yourself lucky, then. None of the other imaginary friends got to know my story, or at least that much of it. Thanks for not changing your opinion of me, Snotface." He stared a moment more, trying to understand Lizzie's care for him and noticed something new. Had her eyes always been so brown?
Sighing, Lizzie welcomed the relief that pushed all the other emotions aside, glad she hadn't hurt him. She had been so worried, and Fred had done so much for her already. Hurting him would be a poor way to repay him.
Suddenly Fred shook his head and shrugged out of her grasp. "So, does that satisfy your little head for now, or is there something else you're dying to know before we begin figuring out where that magic is?" He waggled his finger at her body.
Lizzie frowned when he stepped away. Had she offended him? Worry rose up in her gut. Maybe all her prying had upset him.
"No, I don't have any more questions," she spoke automatically, willing to drop it if Fred wasn't wanting to reveal any more of his past. Her gaze drifted toward the house. She really wasn't looking forward to going inside. At the moment she wanted to be anywhere else but here. "Now what?"
"You hold still," he said, stepping to stand in front of her. Fred held up his hands, vigorously rubbing them together before flipping his palms around to face her. "Just gonna try to find where Enzo put that magic. This might tickle."
Lizzie squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for the worst.
Slowly, Fred moved his hands just over her body, no more than an inch away, beginning at her head and moving down. He tried sensing the magic and green sparks emanated off his fingers as he slipped along. Moving lower, he reached her toes and started feeling his way back up until finally a soft purple spark lit at Lizzie's left knee.
"Aha! I got it!" he shouted, grinning up at her. "It's in your knee. I'm sorry, Snotface, you don't get magic tits, after all. I'm a bit disappointed for you."
Upon hearing him say the word 'knee,' Lizzie relaxed, opening her eyes to look closely at Fred to see if he was joking with her. He looked completely serious, but also pleased. "My knee?" she asked, still uncertain about Fred's announcement. "Is that really where it is?"
"Yep, see here." He knelt down and wiggled his fingers over the location. The same purple sparks emerged. Lizzie's eyes widened. Reaching up, he took her hand and pulled her lower to feel for herself. Fred used his own magic again to coax hers out of its hiding spot. "Pay attention to how it feels," he said, pressing her hand to her knee.
The lights sparkling from it glowed brighter and Lizzie tried to feel what Fred was talking about, but since she had no experience with magic, she wasn't sure what she should be doing. She watched the lights sparkling around her knee and tried to focus her thoughts on it. Her knee felt warm, and gradually the heat spread to her fingers.
Gasping, she yanked her hand away. "What was that?"
Fred smiled up at her, a twinkle in his eyes. "Your magic, of course. Try to keep up. It's not a snake!"
Lizzie stuck her tongue out at Fred. "Well, how am I supposed to know? I'm new to this and for all I know it was a really bad sunburn!" Reaching down, she touched her knee again and tried to replicate whatever she had done earlier. The warmth returned, but this time she kept her hand in place, letting the heat move up and into her arm and finally her whole body. She scrunched her face as she tried to maintain this feeling.
"Now what?" It came out as a whisper, as she tried to concentrate on her magical link.
"Try to do this," he said, standing and holding out his hand. Green light surrounded his fingers and tiny orbs floated off the tips. "Just imagine it flowing out of you and then hold it. You can actually control it when it's not physically in you. Sort of like an extension, like you're in two places at once, if you will." He looked at her with a hopeful gaze, trying to push Damion's nagging warnings out of his mind.
With her left hand still on her knee, Lizzie looked at her right hand and tried to picture the purple sparks flowing out of her fingers.
Nothing changed.
Lizzie sighed in frustration, but she focused harder, willing the magic to move. The warmth intensified, but still nothing else happened.
"Come on, Lizzie," she said to herself, not caring that Fred could hear; she had to do this. Her life literally depended on it.
She stared hard at her fingers, picturing the purple sparks flowing out from her hand. "Come on you stupid sparks! Come out of my fingers!" Her hand turned warmer and Lizzie grimaced, focusing harder. It began to tingle next and she wanted to ask Fred about it, but she didn't want to break her concentration. The sensation travelled from her hand, up her arm, and into her chest. It felt strange and uncomfortable, but she pushed it aside, maintaining her focus. She had never fixated on anything so intensely in her life, but she felt her will begin to weaken.
"Stay strong. You can do it," she ordered herself. Lizzie grit her teeth, grunting as she gave one last mental push to make the magic move.
In the Other Otherworld, Enzo was alone. Axel and Bastion had challenged each other to a duel and gone off in separate directions to prepare. Favian was most likely reading, and Cale was probably antagonizing one of them. Enzo wasn't sure where Damion was, but as long as they weren't in the same room it was a good thing.
Enzo pulled on his magical monocle goggles and looked at Lizzie and Fred. He smiled. Lizzie was doing better than expected, and Fred seemed to be a decent teacher.
"I think it's nearly time to up the stakes, poppets," Enzo murmured.
- 7
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- 9
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Second Chances