This idea just came to me out of nowhere. Personally, I think it came out pretty well, and I tried to keep everyone IC to the best of my extent. This takes place just after Heather kisses Trent in 'Search and Do Not Destroy'.
Disclaimer: I do not own TDI or its characters, but I do own Fred. Oh yeah, and 'Fall to Pieces' is owned by Velvet Revolver, as stated in the story.
Heather smirked evilly as she watched Trent walk off, holding his head. She had also seen Gwen run off after seeing their alleged "kiss". Even better was that no one knew what really happened, so there was a good chance of Trent getting voted off. And, if things worked out perfectly, she would gain invincibility, and slide through another challenge. Meanwhile, Trent would take all the blame, and would no doubt be kicked off the island. She began to walk back toward the amphitheater to wait for the end of the challenge, smiling at her victory.
Still up in the tree, Lindsay suddenly lost her balance, just as Heather was passing by. Heather heard her screams, and looked up. Her eyes widened, as Lindsay landed right on her face. The two crumbled to the ground, and Heather lost consciousness. Lindsay merely rubbed her head, before looking at Heather. When she saw that Heather was unconscious, she began to panic.
"Heather?" she asked quietly. No answer. She began to shake her body. "Hello? Heather, wake up!" She kept trying to awaken Heather, but something was going on deep in her subconscious. Something... strange. Something... powerful. And something rather... life-changing.
Heather looked around, seeing nothing but blackness all around.
"Hey! Is anybody there?!" she called into the darkness. Then, a lone man walked into view. He had on a top hat, whose shadow covered his face. The man also wore bright white gloves, and a long-sleeved green shirt, along with baggy, black pants. He had on black boots that covered about half of his shins, and was wearing a large, black wristwatch.
"Who are you?" Heather asked, scanning his horrible sense of fashion in disgust. The man bowed, tipping his hat.
"Well, I'm your subconscious. But, to make things less weird, you can call me Fred," he introduced, his face still concealed. Heather just raised an eyebrow, wondering what kind of joke this was.
"Is this revenge from weird goth girl and Leshawna, or something?' she asked. Fred just chuckled.
"Nope. This, is your revelation!" he told her. Now, Heather was just plain annoyed with this guy.
"Revelation?" she asked, shaking her head in disbelief. Fred nodded.
"I'm going to change your mean personality, by showing you some... pretty intense stuff. I won't tell you exactly everything, but... it does involve your actions against Trent and Gwen's relationship," Fred told her, adjusting his wristwatch. Now, Heather just laughed.
"You actually expect me to believe that you can change how I look at those two losers? Good luck!" she challenged. Under his hat's shadow, Fred smirked.
"Suit yourself, Heather," he chuckled.
Then, the scenery changed. Heather looked around, and noticed that she was in a bar. There were men and women alike, lounging around and sharing drinks. A couple guys were playing pool, and there was even a few guys passed out on the floor. Heather turned to her left, and saw Fred standing there, probably smiling under his shadow.
"Why am I in here? I'm not allowed in a bar, I'm only 16!" Heather protested, a little worried, and confused at the same time. Fred pointed toward the stage, and Heather turned around. There was a small band warming up to play. She noticed how the lead singer had his head down, and was bare-chested, revealing some nasty chest hair. She scoffed. That was so stupid. Suddenly, the singer looked up, and began to talk to the crowd. Heather gasped as she realized that the shirtless singer was Trent! He looked miserable! He had a skimpy, but scruffy, rugged beard and mustache. His eyes appeared to be burning red, and his hair was a mess. And his eyes were empty, as if they never knew happiness. Heather listened to what he was saying.
"Well, before we end, everyone knows what little song I like to end with. Call it stupid, but this is dedicated to a special girl that I thought I knew. But... she broke my heart. Even so, I can't let her go. Well, enjoy the final performance for the night," Trent finished, wiping away a tear that found its way onto his face. Heather felt a small pang of guilt, knowing that Trent was referring to none other than Gwen. It seemed that Trent had taken a new turn in his music after having his heart-broken on the island. And even worse was that he still missed Gwen, even though he could never trust her again. Heather listened to the song play, and could tell from the first line how hard it would be to sit through the song.
Fall to Pieces, by Velvet Revolver
It's been a long year
Since you've been gone
I've been alone here
I've grown old
I fall to pieces, I'm falling
Fell to pieces, and I'm still falling
Every time I'm falling down
All alone I fall to pieces
I keep a journal of memories
I'm feeling lonely, I can't breathe
Fall to pieces, I'm falling
Fell to pieces, and I'm still falling
Every time I'm falling down
All alone I fall to pieces
Every time I'm falling down
All alone I fall to pieces
Every time I'm falling down
All alone I fall to pieces
All the years I've tried
With more to go
Will the memories die
I'm waiting
Will I find you
Can I find you
We're falling down
I'm falling
Every time I'm falling down
All alone I fall to pieces
Every time I'm falling down
All alone I fall to pieces
Every time I'm falling down
All alone I fall to pieces
Every time I'm falling down
All alone I fall to pieces
As the song ended, most people in the bar clapped for the band. They knew how heart-broken Trent was, and didn't feel it was appropriate to cheer for such a sad song. While the band started packing up, Trent walked over to a stool near the bartender, asking for the usual. Heather watched in awe as Trent had nearly ten large bottles of some kind of beer placed in front of him. He flicked the cap off one of the bottles, and proceeded to drink his troubles away. Fred tapped Heather's shoulder.
"Time to leave," he told her. Then, they reappeared back in the darkness where they initially were. Heather wiped away a few tears that had appeared while Trent was singing. Fred just stared at Heather in silence. He cleared his throat, and began to talk.
"That night, after he was eliminated, Trent began to create that song on the Boat of Losers, and wrote it down for later. He never watched reruns of that episode, and never found out that it was just your tricks. He started up a band, and did small gigs, always closing with that one song. When Trent had broke off all contact with his family and friends, he began t drink away his problems, practically living in bars and the cars driven by his band mates. He has less than a week before his liver will stop working, and he'll die." Heather looked up suddenly.
"What?!" she shreiked. Fred chuckled lightly, despite the current atmosphere.
"And to think it was just because of a small bit of sabotage on your part, huh?" he joked, most likely grinning widely. Heather suddenly became defensive.
"Hey, it was a strategic move on a reality show!" she shouted, crossing her arms. Fred merely sighed, and adjusted his hat.
"Well, time for the next on," he mumbled.
As soon as he finished talking, Heather could see bright, flashing lights all around. There were countless men cheering and drinking, far different than the bar they had been in before. Heather looked at where they were staring, and gasped. She was in a strip bar!
"Fred! What is the... Fred?" Heather noticed that Fred had disappeared from her side. She felt slightly scared, hoping no one would mistake her for one of the strippers. Suddenly, she saw a familiar face serving drinks to a rowdy group of men.
"That's Gwen!" she thought, recognizing the teal streaks in her air, regardless of the skimpy outfit she was wearing. One of the men pulled out a 20 dollar bill.
"Hey, lady! How about a little fun?" he asked. Gwen grabbed the 20, and made sure it wasn't fake. When she accepted that it was legitimate, she stuck it in her purse, and pulled out a bottle.
"Birth control," she explained, swallowing two right away. With that, she walked off with the man following close behind. Heather sneakily followed them, until she saw them disappear behind a door that read 'Strippers may only bring in men for sexual pleasure when paid'. Heather listened through the wall, and could hear the man having his fun with Gwen. Finally, it was too much, and she ran off. Coincidentally, she saw Fred. He was cheering for the show on stage.
"Fred!" she shouted, surprised by the pain in her voice. Fred looked over at her, and then snapped his fingers. The strip bar faded away, and they were back in the darkness. Heather felt herself actually starting to cry. She didn't know why. She hated Trent and Gwen. So, why did she feel so bad for them ending up the way they did? If anything, she should be glad that they got what they deserved. Fred interrupted her thoughts.
"She takes birth control pills before every... session. And, with a body like hers, that's at least 12 pills a day," he calculated. Fred shook his head.
"She'll die in less than a week because of that, around the same time as Trent," Heather looked up at Fred.
"I never meant for all this to happen," she told him. Fred didn't respond.
"If I knew that they would turn out like this, I'd never ruin their relationship!" she shrieked, tears running down her face. Fred put a hand on her shoulder.
"By the way, there's one, final person we need to see," he explained.
When Heather looked around, she noticed that she was now in a lonely, creepy graveyard. It was pouring, but she didn't focus on how her make-up was running, or her hair was wet. Fred stood close by, with an umbrella in hand.
"Look at the grave in front of you," he ordered. Heather took a quick glance at Fred, and then turned to look at the name on the grave. She felt her heart stop. Here's what it read:
Heather Johnson
Heather took a step back, and began shaking with fright. Fred knelt down beside her.
"The guilt of what you did drove you insane. Even worse was the fact that no one tried to help you. Your family, friends, the government. No one even cared that you committed suicide out of the massive guilt. The only reason that you were even buried, is because Trent and Gwen heard, and could be around each other long enough to put you to rest. Even after all the pain you caused them. By now, Heather had her hands on her face, and she was struggling not to cry. Fred looked up.
"In fact, I took you forward to a very... sad time," he added, pointing behind her. Heather looked behind her, and saw two more graves . She crawled closer to them, and almost broke down upon reading them both.
Gwen Clarkson Trent Simone
Two lives ruined by one kiss
By now, Heather had completely lost it. She no longer despised neither Gwen nor Trent. She could only feel guilt. That last line was almost a final taunt to her, from the two beyond the grave. Fred took Heather away from the graves, and returned her to the darkness. He waited for Heather to stop crying, not able to understand her outbursts between sobs. Finally, Heather recollected herself, and managed to speak.
"I never meant to ruin their lives! I was just playing the game!" she shouted. Fred sighed.
"That show was more than just a game. There were real feelings there, Heather. Between everybody. Duncan and Courtney, Geoff and Bridgette, Owen and Izzy, Tyler and Lindsay, even Harold and Leshawna got together as a couple in the next season. But, Trent and Gwen never did. As for you, you never made it past day 1," Fred revealed. Heather looked crestfallen. Fred was right. she had no reason to do what she did. Finally realizing what her revelation was, Heather wiped away the last of her tears.
"I know what I have to do," she told him. Fred nodded.
"Oh, by the way, your key leads to invincibility," he added, before the darkness and Fred disappeared.
When Heather opened her eyes next, she saw Lindsay hovering over her. She shrieked, and jumped backwards. Lindsay smiled.
"Heather, you're awake!" she exclaimed. Heather stood up quickly.
"How long have I been out?" she asked. Lindsay scratched her head.
"I'd guess about ten or fifteen minutes... Hey! Where're you going?!" she shouted after Heather, who had run off.
As she was dashing, Heather accidently ran into Trent, sending the two to the ground. Heather noticed that Trent dropped his key, and quickly grabbed it, switching out her own key.
"Sorry about that!" she apologized, helping Trent up. Suddenly, an idea struck her.
"Listen, meet me by the bear cave now! I just have to... take care of something! Okay, bye!" Heather ran off before Trent could protest. She peeked into the Gopher's cabin, and saw Gwen crying into her pillow. She felt a stab of guilt, and walked inside. She snuck by Gwen, and managed to grab a paper and pen. She snuck by again, and stopped outside the cabin. She scribbled a note, folded it into a paper airplane, and sent it inside. She saw Gwen pick it up and read it. Smiling, Heather then took off for the bear cave. She only had one shot at this, so it had to work.
Heather noticed Trent was already waiting at the bear cave, and she let out a sigh. It was now or never.
"Trent!" she shouted, catching the musician's attention.
"Okay Heather, what's this all about? It's not another kiss attempt, is it?" he asked suspiciously.
"Oh no, no! I just... well, you'll see," Heather trailed off. Trent raised an eyebrow, but decided that whatever this little charade was, it had to wait a little bit. Then, he heard footsteps approaching. He looked toward the source, and saw that it was Gwen. Their eyes met, and Gwen stopped. Heather decided that now was the time.
"Hey, Gwen! Come one over, please!" she beckoned. Gwen looked infuriated to see Heather, but walked over, and stood a couple feet away from Trent.
"Okay, what is this all about Heather?" she asked bitterly. Heather sighed, running over what she was going to say in her head.
"Okay, here goes. I just want to start off by saying... I'm sorry. I should never have tricked you both," she began.
"Tricked?" Trent questioned. Heather nodded.
"I forged a note to Gwen, and got her to come to the dock just as I pretended that Trent and I were making out. Before she came, I made up a bunch of lies to confuse Trent, and push him away from Gwen. It was one of the worst things I've ever done, and I never should have stooped that low. I'm sorry. And, while I'm apologizing, I'm sorry for all the pain I've caused you guys on the island," Heather finished. Gwen and Trent looked shocked.
"Did you suddenly grow a conscience, or something?" Gwen asked, partly sarcastic, and partly amazed. Heather sighed.
"I had a little..... revelation," she told them. Gwen and Trent exchanged confused glances.
"So, you didn't call me a cliche, or said that my music stinks?" Trent asked. Gwen shook her head.
"I never said any of that! And you really didn't try to cheat on me?" she shot back. Trent shook his head. The two smiled, and Heather felt like a great weight was lifted off her shoulders.
"Well, I'll leave you two alone for now," she dismissed herself, walking off. She couldn't help but crack a smile. She looked up.
"Thanks Fred, for everything," she said to no one in particular.
---
Chris looked out at the 11 campers sitting in front of him. Well, actually, it was only 10. Trent had managed to snag the key that led to invincibility, and was standing next to Chris, hoping Gwen was safe. Heather looked nervous, but knew that there was almost a surefire chance she was eliminated today. Chris smiled his signature smile.
"Campers, I have 9 marshmallows on this plate, and 9 soon-to-be-safe campers. Whichever one of you does not receive a marshmallow must immediately walk the Dock of Shame, hitch a ride on the Boat of Losers, and leave Total Drama Island. And you can't come back. EVER!"
The emphasis on the last word caused a few campers to flinch, and look at their fellow contestants. Chris held up the first marshmallow.
"The first marshmallow goes to... Duncan." Duncan walked up, and grabbed the marshmallow, looking relieved. Chris continued.
"Geoff... DJ... Lindsay... Bridgette... Leshawna... Owen... Izzy." The safe campers took their marshmallows, and looked at the remaining two: Gwen and Heather. Both looked nervous. Chris picked up the last marshmallow.
"Gwen, Heather. This, is the last marshmallow of the night. One of you... is no longer going to be competing on the show," he told them. Gwen gulped, and nervously tapped her fingers on her knee. Heather took a quick side glance at Gwen, and then focused on the marshmallow, her lip trembling slightly from the tension. Chris looked back and forth between the two for a while.
"The last marshmallow of the night goes to...
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"Gwen."
Gwen looked up in surprise, but then stepped up to get her marshmallow. Heather merely shrugged.
"I had a feeling," she admitted, smiling sheepishly. Everyone except for Trent and Gwen looked shocked.
"How come she ain't yelling and screaming at us like usual?" Leshawna asked. Gwen chuckled.
"She grew a conscience. Claims its a revelation, or something," she answered. Heather grabbed her bags from the cabin, and walked down the Dock of shame, head held high. She tossed her bags onto the Boat of Losers, and climbed into it. The others watched her go, still in shock.
Heather sighed, sitting on the boat. She was glad that she had changed for the better now, but wished she could have patched things up with the others. Then, Fred appeared next to her. Heather smirked.
"Hey Fred," she greeted. Fred tipped his hat.
"You did good. Now then, when you get to the resort, chase after prairie boy. He's got a crush on you, whether he knows it or not. Oh, and you got next season to patch things up with the others, after you befriend Harold." With that, Fred disappeared. Half of that didn't make sense, but Heather made sure to commit his words to memory. As the Boat of Losers pulled up to the resort, she noticed Ezekiel was the only one standing at the dock. He helped her down.
"No one else wanted to help you out, eh," he explained, taking one of her suitcases. Heather remembered Fred's words, and smiled down at the home-schooled teen.
"Well, then I'm glad it was you," she said seductively, leaning down and kissing his cheek. Ezekiel looked beyond shocked, but managed to find the will power to walk behind Heather, carrying her bags. She took a quick look behind her, and chuckled at how Ezekiel looked surprised still.
Suddenly, Heather was glad that Lindsay had fallen out of that tree and conked her on the head. It really changed her, something no one that knew her had ever thought possible. And, even better, it seemed that she had, possibly, made friends with Trent and Gwen, and was working on Ezekiel right now. Life was a lot better for Heather Johnson than it had been in years.
Well, what do you think? I included a little thing relating to the TDI special there at the end, with Harold. So, yeah. Reviews would be real nice!
The next oneshot I have planned involves the following: Duncan, Harold, Courtney, a Kiss song, Duncan making Courtney angry (again), and $20. That's your only hint.