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2023-07-18
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For Better or for Worse

Summary:

Daphne helps Shaggy through a PTSD-nightmare-induced panic attack. One-shot. *Originally uploaded on June 18, 2019 on my FFN account.* Shaphne story.

Notes:

Originally written/published on June 18th, 2019, back when I ran the Shaphne page on Instagram. Somehow got deleted. Even though I'm not as big on shipping members of the gang as I used to be, (I really just enjoy watching them all as friends nowadays) I still wanted to put it back up. My seventeen-year-old-self worked very hard on this story. Not only did she write it in one sitting, but stayed up the whole night doing so. Plus, I felt it was my duty as the former Shaphne Queen (as you all called me that on Instagram) to reupload it. Shaphne fics are very rare. Actually good Shaphne fics are even more so. So, I hope that I wrote this just as well as I did four years ago.

Work Text:

Shaggy and Daphne were both snuggled under the blankets of the queen sized bed they shared. The moon shone through their bedroom window, causing their wedding bands to glint in its radiant light.

Daphne was sound asleep - wrapped in the arms of her beloved husband, her head resting on his chest. She was enveloped in the most peaceful sleep she'd had in years. It was dreamless, yet a small smile had managed to creep its way onto her face.

Had Shaggy been awake, he'd be envious of the state of his sleeping wife. Sweat beaded his forehead and strung his bangs together. His eyebrows knitted together in an obvious frown.

His breathing quickened. His chest heaved up and down, like a mountain rising up and crumbling down, trying to build itself back up again only to repeat the cycle. He began squirming, though not enough to alert his sleeping wife. His head quickly shook back and forth, as if he was trying to shake the bad thoughts out of his mind.

It wasn't until he began tossing and turning that his arm was yanked out from underneath Daphne, causing her to wake with a start. She yawned and rubbed her eyes sleepily. "Shaggy?" Finally opening her eyes, she could see her husband's state of distress. Her eyes widened as the all-too-familiar scene happened in front of her.

She grabbed a hold of his shoulder. "Shaggy," she repeated, a bit louder now that she was fully awake. "Hey, wake up. It's okay, I'm here. I'm right here. I'm okay."

It took her a moment, but she was finally able to wake him up. His eyes shot open, wide as saucers. He sat straight up and let out a scream that sent a chill down Daphne's spine. She had heard him scream many times before during their many adventures as teenagers when they had come face-to-face with their latest monster of the week, but they were never as blood-curdling as when she was forced time and time again to wake him from that same nightmare.

"Hey," she spoke gently, repeating her mantra, "it's okay. I'm here. I'm right here. Look, I'm right here. Nothing happened to me. I'm here and I'm alive."

Shaggy continued to stare straight ahead, his breathing still heavy. His knuckles turned a shade similar to that of the white down comforter that he was gripping so intensely. He pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around his legs. He buried his face in his knees. Daphne waited a moment, listening to her husband's breathing. It wasn't slowing down. In fact, she noticed that it was starting to increase to the point where he was starting to hyperventilate. Shaggy was having a panic attack, another scene she was all-too-familiar with.

She got out from under the blankets and sat directly in front of her husband. "Hey. Shaggy, look at me. Look up at me. You're having a panic attack. But, it's okay. I'm right here and I'm going to help you through it. Because I am still here. I am safe."

Eight years ago, right after the members of Mystery Inc. graduated high school, they had decided that they were going to solve one last mystery together before they were forced to go their separate ways as they all went off to college, leading their own separate lives. Apart from Shaggy and Daphne, however, as Shaggy had proposed just three weeks prior and the couple was preparing to have their own separate life together, so to speak.

Their final mystery, however, had gone horribly wrong. Daphne had found herself the victim of a kidnapping once again, as she often did. The gang was able to track her and the culprit down to an abandoned warehouse. It was their usual routine: Daphne got kidnapped, Shaggy and Scooby were bait, Fred set a trap, and Velma had figured out exactly who the culprit was. It was such a typical mystery that they never would have guessed had happened next.

As the criminal had chased Shaggy and Scooby in the direction of Fred's trap, rather than continuing to chase them, he grabbed Daphne, threw her over his shoulder, and ran to his getaway car. What he didn't know was that there were two police cars waiting outside, ready to arrest him once the gang had him trapped. The culprit was so quick to drive out of there, that there was not enough reaction time for him to notice the cars and ended up driving straight into the drivers' side of one of the cars. After unmasking him, the villain, the policeman, and Daphne were immediately rushed to the hospital. It was rather fortunate that there was another policeman there, as he was able to radio for an ambulance immediately.

The policeman and the culprit were fine. The extent of their injuries was a sprain or a slight fracture. Daphne, however, had it much worse. When the getaway car crashed into the police car, she went through the windshield because she was not wearing a seat belt due to being tied up. Her injuries were so bad that she slipped into a coma.

It only took her a week to finally wake up, but it was still very hard on the gang, sitting around in her hospital room with only the beeping of machinery interrupting the silence that otherwise filled her room. Had they not already decided that that would be their last mystery, they would have done so then and there. They had never been in such a life or death situation such as this one before. It had never crossed their minds just how bad it could have been.

And even though it had only been a week, sitting around waiting for the love of his life to wake up had severely traumatized Shaggy. He hardly ate or slept, something that was very out of character for him. He always wore his heart on his sleeve, so the rest of the gang watched him break down more than once as he held her hand and wished for her to wake.

Even after Daphne woke up, Shaggy still had anxiety attacks frequently, especially when he wasn't around her, due to just how much the stress had taken a toll on him. They had gotten married shortly after Daphne had made a full recovery, which she had hoped would prove to Shaggy that she was not going anywhere and would soothe his anxieties. But Shaggy still couldn't shake the horrible feeling of what it was like to nearly lose her.

He didn't have nightmares too often before, but in the early days of their marriage he began having them so frequently that Daphne quickly learned it was always the same: the events of their final mystery would play out in his head with one major change at the end, that being that she didn't wake up.

The longer their marriage went on, however, the separation anxiety and nightmares decreased in frequency. But not so much that Daphne had forgotten what to do when he did have one.

Shaggy looked up at his wife, his big brown eyes filled with tears. "S-safe?"

Daphne nodded. "Yeah. I'm safe."

He swallowed. "Safe," he repeated. He was still hyperventilating.

"Okay, Shaggy," Daphne instructed as she prepared to demonstrate breathing exercises, "do it with me. In and out. In, 1, 2, 3. Hold, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. And out, 1, 2, 3."

Shaggy did as he was instructed. And though many minutes passed, eventually he got to the point where he had gained enough control over his breathing to where it was normal again. Once he did, he let out an enormous sigh now that the weight of the panic attack had been lifted off his shoulders. He leaned forward and placed the top of his head against Daphne's chest and began sobbing, which usually happened once the anxiety or panic attack had finished up as a natural result of emotional exhaustion, according to his therapist.

"Hey," she whispered as she stroked his hair. "Hey, hey. I've got you. I'm right here. Let it out. It's all okay now."

"I'm sorry," he sniffed. Upon hearing him apologize, Daphne knew what was coming next: negative self talk. Another thing that would sometimes happen once an attack was over. She knew that he would mean none of it, but still needed to talk him through it in order to help him feel better. She lifted his head and sat next to him, only for him to place his head in her lap, much like a child being consoled by their mother. He continued to cry silently, tears staining her lilac nightgown. "I, like, should have protected you better that day. You deserve better than me."

"Don't talk like that," Daphne said as she continued stroking his hair and began rubbing his back as well. "I love you."

"How could you love me?" Shaggy questioned. "Look at me. I'm, like, pathetic. You're the one who got hurt that day and you're comforting me. How could you love someone like this? Why do you still want to be with me? Like, why would you still want to continue doing this after eight years?"

"Because," she insisted, "You're my husband and the love of my life. Helping you should not be an inconvenience to me. I mean, you never feel inconvenienced when helping me carry in all those shopping bags, do you?"

Shaggy sniffed and mumbled a, "No."

"You never feel inconvenienced when I ask you to wash the dishes after I make cookies, do you?"

"No."

"You never feel inconvenienced when I'm on my period and I'm crying because I ate all the cookies, do you?"

Shaggy finally stopped crying. "No."

"Well, then, I shouldn't feel inconvenienced when helping you through something that is much more important than all of those things. And besides, you're getting better all the time. So if helping you through each and every one of these nightmares and attacks is going to help you enter a better state of mind, then I don't mind at all."

Shaggy sighed. "I know." He looked up at her, giving her a faint smile. "Like, thanks for loving me and stuff."

She smiled. "Right back at ya. For better or for worse, right?"

"Yeah." He yawned. "Thanks for always sharing your cookies. Even when you're on your period and you, like, want them all to yourself." Another yawn as he closed his eyes and snuggled into her lap.

She bent down to kiss his forehead. "Thank you for caring so much about me."

Daphne continued to stroke Shaggy's hair until she could faintly hear him snoring. Satisfied with knowing that he was now in a much calmer state of mind, she collapsed back onto her pillow, falling asleep instantly.