Crossroads

Disclaimer: The usual, I don't own anything.

A/N: Thanks to Ally82 for her Beta work and to Jazzola for suggestions to tweak this story into something worth reading.

Chapter One: Accident

Part One: Lights Out

It was later than anyone realized when the gang left the concert which had been a loud but pleasant diversion for the evening.

"Are you sure you're awake enough to drive? We can stay over, go home tomorrow." A concerned Daphne took his arm.

"No rooms available because of the concert." Fred responded, smiling into her green eyes. "I'll grab a caffeine loaded soda on the way out of town. I'll be fine."

Once they made their way out of town and the bright lights, the darkness closed in. The headlights broke the night in a yellowish glow. The night was clear, the road dry; stars twinkled in the nighttime sky. Fred reached for the cold soda, taking a deep drought. Dancing with Daphne nestled in his arms had been delightful. He had taken his eyes off the road for only a few seconds when he attempted to return the cup to its holder.

"Freddie! Look out!" Daphne screamed. Tires screamed in protest as Fred attempted to make the upcoming curve. Daphne's head hit the side window, then forward striking the windshield. A high pitched yell came from the back of the van as Velma, Shaggy and Scooby flew about.

"Hold On!" Fred shouted as the tires slipped off the pavement. A professional driver might have saved the situation; Fred was a very good driver but he wasn't a pro. The tires lost what traction they had and the van slued into the ravine that ran beside the roadway.

The brightly painted van slammed into the opposite bank, the rear becoming airborne then settling down on two flat tires. White steam rose up over the hood of the van. The headlights flickered, dimmed then went out.

In the stillness of the night, a dog barked.

Part Two: Hospital Visit

Shaggy hated the hospital. Hated the smell, hated the cafeteria food, hated being squeezed into a crowded postage stamp sized room. He would visit his friends later, coping with the feelings of guilt and disbelief. He had been the first to regain consciousness, making his way through and over the debris, to check on Velma first.

Her right arm rested at an impossible angle; with only a rudimentary first aid kit, he could only settle her into as comfortable position before moving on to Daphne. She was unconscious, not responding as he cleaned the facial cuts. At least she hadn't gone through the windshield. He had to wonder why?

Fred had suffered the most, his chest hitting the steering wheel. Blood streaked down his face in ever increasing rivulets. Shaggy guessed there had to be internal injuries. This was going to take more than a band-aid but that was all he had. In abundance.

He made his way back to Velma, pulling her into a close embrace, careful of her broken arm. All he could do now was wait for help.

-Xxx

With trembling knees he walked by the gift shop, turning left to the bank of elevators. Leaving the elevator, he checked in at the nurse's station before heading toward Velma's room. They had secured her in a stark white room, her arm in a milky white cast. Plaster bandages covered her forehead and most of one cheek. He did find one small patch; he leaned over to kiss her cheek.

"You can do better than that, Shaggy." With her good hand she guided his lips to meet hers in an "I'm not your sister" kiss. Her lips were soft, yielding to his. She reluctantly freed his lips.

"Have you seen Daphne?" He eased down on the bed, holding her hand.

"No, she's next on my list. I did talk to the doctor, she's going to be fine. She has a concussion and she has some bruises that will match her dress..."

"Always color coordinated." Her laugh was infectious, "That's our Daphne. And...Fred?"

"Not so good, Velms. He's still listed in serious but stable condition." God! He hated hospitals but more tender feelings led him to kiss her lips. Several times. They reluctantly broke the kisses when a white clad nurse interrupted them to take Velma's vital signs.

Part Three: Shaggy Investigates

Shaggy was glad to get out of the hospital. It seemed like with each stay, he had left something behind. His tonsils on one visit, his appendix on another. Daphne was an angel; alert, beautiful as always and complaining about having nothing to wear. She was being held overnight as a precaution for the concussion she had suffered in the accident.

"Have you ever been bored, Shaggy? I'm so bored I could spit and a lady, like myself, doesn't spit."

"And you don't have a pan to spit in. What seems to be the problem...Lady Daphne?"

"Everything! Have you seen what you have wear around here! Drafty, disfigured, shapeless! And that's the sheets! I won't describe these hospital gowns!"

"You're okay, Daphne. You still have your sense of humor."

"How's Velma, Shaggy?"

"Broken arm, scratches, bruises."

"How did she break her arm?"

"Don't ask what happened in the back...and I won't ask what happened in front to distract Fred."

Daphne thought about that a moment, "Nothing happened...deal."

Fred had been unconscious, by plan according to the doctor Shaggy had talked to. With a concussion, three broken ribs, bruised sternum from the steering wheel and a broken clavicle and dislocated shoulder it would take six to eight weeks to fully heal. He had been heavily sedated because of the pain.

-Xxx

The visits with Daphne and Fred had been short due to his aversion to hospitals in general and seeing his friends in such dire circumstances specifically. And he wanted to take a look at the Mystery Machine. Or what was left of the once proud machine. And he needed to do whatever he intended to do before the insurance adjuster showed up mid morning.

He walked around the van, making notes as he went. It wasn't pretty. The old van had been through 4 engines and the same number of transmissions. It had been everything to the gang, from kitchen, restaurant, motel and at times hospital as they had traveled from Australia to Egypt, Scotland to Wyoming, U. S. A. and every place in between. Shaggy had a feeling about what he'd find when he slid underneath on the creeper.

Finishing the investigation, Shaggy appeared from under the van to find Scooby staring at him, his paw held off the floor. He wouldn't have to pretend to have a sore paw during the next mystery.

"Time for dinner, Scoob ol' buddy?"

"Rast Rime!"

"Guess I forgot the time. Let's grab something to eat."

-Xxx

After Scooby and Shaggy had their fill which took some time, Scooby had sacked out, playing his hurt paw for all the sympathy he could get. Shaggy sat at the table, examining the pages of notes he had made. He would have to talk to the rest of the gang but his first impression was being proven right.

The old war wagon had seen its last mystery.

TBC