#they mention a third movie so maybe I’ll investigate and see if they were hinting at s5 plot there

[chirpsythismorning]

Will Byers in Stranger Things 5

[dameronology]

welcome to the jungle {frankie morales}

summary: after taking a job with the delta guys, you cross paths with frankie morales. even though you’re at each other’s throats at first, it proves to be the start of something beautiful.  (for @what-the--curtains​ - i hope you enjoy!!) - 7k words

warnings: swearing, mentions of ptsd

this is kinda ambiguous in terms of the timeline of the film but i sort of hint to the first half being before the events of t.f and the second half being after -- with that said, you can take it as you would like :D

- jazz

Your brother had dog sat for a few days.

In exchange, you were flying out to Colombia in the middle of your work week. 

You believed in favours, but these two did not feel like they were equal. 

Still, you were a person of your word - and getting to fly to South America was exciting. The job itself was exciting, if not a little...eyebrow raising. His friend, an ex-Delta soldier, needed somebody to ID a body. That part didn’t bother you - you were a forensic archaeologist after all and it was quite literally your job description. The suspicious bit was the circumstances under which you were doing it; Santiago Garcia hadn’t been entirely clear on the phone, but he’d said something about witnesses and getting the government off of our backs. You’d met Santiago a few times and you knew what kind of work he did - military stuff. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that it was probably an under-the-radar kind of affair. But, you’d never been one to back down from a challenge. 

So, here you were on a warm Colombian Tuesday afternoon, suitcase trailing behind you as you trekked towards a dusty old air base. The sun was high in the sky, beating down on your back in a way that had initially been comforting, but was now just plain annoying. You didn’t know how long you were going to be here, but packing three jackets now felt like a stupid idea. The one one you’d worn on the plane over had been long discarded and tied around your waist, which only added to the struggle of dragging your case up the steep, sandy hill. In the distance, you could see an ATC tower glinting under the sun - the streams of light bounced right back off of it, causing you to shield your eyes with your forearm. The taxi you’d gotten from the international airport - not like this sandy little place - had only taken you so far. At least, of all things, the boots you’d opted to wear were built for this kind of thing. 

A few hundred meters up the road, you finally saw another sign of human life. A 4x4 was parked outside the abandoned terminal entrance, three men leaning against the side of it. You spotted Santiago standing a few metres away on his phone, thumbs tapping away. He didn’t look any different to the last time you saw him; dark and curly hair, a semi-friendly smile and stubble littering his chin. You hadn’t seen him since your brother’s birthday party a few months ago. 

‘Hey!’ The former soldier offered you a grin when he saw you, holding his arms open. ‘Long time, no see!’

‘Hey, Santi!’ You replied, giving him a pat on the back as he pulled you into a hug. ‘And yeah, it’s been a while. Then again, when was the last time you were in the country for more than five minutes?’

‘I’m in high demand.’ He shot back. 

Pulling back from the embrace, Santi pointed to his colleagues. There was Will and Benny, two blonde boys, both in military gear. It didn’t take much to figure out that they were brothers; same smirk, same stance, same eyes. Even if Santi hadn’t pointed it out, you would have figured as much. You were naturally deductive - came with the job. After the brothers, there was Frankie. He had dark eyes and hair, the latter of which was covered by his hat. Unlike the other three, he was wearing more casual clothes, just with a tac vest over the top. You kind of got the vibe that he didn’t want to be there - that was...comforting. 

‘What’s all this?’ Frankie asked, gesturing to the heavy metal suitcase behind you. 

‘Just...stuff. Tools.’ You replied. ‘Things I need to do my job, I guess.’

‘How heavy is it?’ 

‘Light enough that I was able to get them onto a commercial flight?’ You offered. 

‘The plane is already at max weight.’ He replied, brown eyes flickering up to meet yours. 

‘God, give ‘em a break, Fish!’ Santi slapped him on the shoulder. ‘It’ll be fine.’

‘Remember last time you said it would be fine-’

‘- hey.’ He cut him off with a harsh look. ‘We don’t talk about that.’

‘So I can bring them?’ You raised your eyebrows. ‘Because I can’t do whatever it is you need to do unless I have them.’

‘Yeah, it’ll be fine.’ Santiago gave you a comforting smile. ‘Let’s head to the jet and we’ll talk about the job.’ 

Swinging your duffle bag back over your shoulder, you picked up your suitcase and began to follow the guys further up the hill. There wasn’t anybody else around -- just sand, sun and rusting old jets. There was one in particular that they seemed to be headed towards. It was only mildly less eroded than the damaged ones around you, but the engines were running and the cargo doors were open. Santiago took your bag from your hands as you approached it, tossing it in with the other luggage. 

‘Do not throw that one, Garcia!’ You demanded, flinching slightly as he took your suitcase. 

‘Wouldn’t dream of it.’ He shot back. 

‘Sure thing.’ You rolled your eyes at him. ‘You brought a medkit right?’

‘No. Why?’

‘There’s one in my duffle bag.’ You replied. ‘Side pocket. Can you grab it?’

‘We don’t need one, we’ll be fine-’

‘- Santiago Garcia, do you want me to report back to my brother that you took his baby sibling on a jungle-wide expedition without the correct medical supplies?’ You challenged. 

Santi swallowed, mind briefly flashing back to the time he’d almost been decked by said brother for letting you walk home alone. ‘Fine.’

Your triumphant smile only lasted a split second; as soon as your eyes fell on the plane, you realised you still had to get on it. Fuck. 

The engines seemed to be working fine, but it was just...old. And eroding. And making a funny sound. You were by no means an engineer, but even just binging a few episodes of Air Crash Investigations made you feel qualified enough to know that this was not where it was at in terms of air safety. You could have taken it up with Frankie, but he didn’t seem entirely approachable. 

You did trust Santi, however - though sometimes that seemed a little against your better judgement. Every crazy story that your brother had relayed back to you from their time in the military involved him making questionable decisions. Hopefully, opting to fly this hunk of metal wouldn’t be one of them. Here’s to hoping it was aerodynamic. 

‘Are you getting in or…’ Frankie peered down at you from the stairs, eyebrows raised. 

‘Yeah, sorry.’ You blinked in surprise. ‘This thing is safe, right?’

‘What’s it to you?’

‘What is it to me?’ You snorted. ‘Just, y’know, that I’m about to fly a few hundred thousand feet in the air and if it falls out of the sky I’ll die.’

‘I know what I’m doing.’ Frankie shut the door behind you as you climbed aboard, twisting the handle shut. ‘I’ve been flying for years.’

‘I’m not saying it’s you.’ You brushed past him, shoulders bumping as you did. ‘Captain fucking Sully couldn’t fly this thing.’

‘The guy from Monster’s Inc?’ 

‘No, the guy who landed the plane on the Hudson? They made a movie about it, with Tom Hanks-’

‘- you should sit down now.’ Frankie turned away from you. ‘We’re about to take off.’

Your mouth fell open in slight disbelief. What an asshole. 

Santi called your name, signalling for you to sit with him in the cockpit. The seats on the plane hardly looked comfortable, and your brain was mentally working out if it was safer to sit over the wing in a crash, or by the tail. You’d definitely seen it in a documentary once, but you couldn’t remember exactly what they said. Perhaps the best option was to just be less dramatic. 

Taking a seat between Frankie and Santi, you pulled your seatbelt on and shuffled awkwardly. This was fine. Absolutely fine. Frankie was a trained pilot (and a dickhead, but that didn’t take away from his flying skills) and you were going to be fine. Fiiiiine. Maybe if you said it once more, you’d believe yourself. You were going to be fine. Yeah, there we go. 

A few deep breaths and you were certain. Or, at least you’d convinced yourself to be certain. 

‘So.’ Your eyes momentarily flicked over to where Frankie was adjusting some controls. ‘What exactly am I doing here?’

‘A few months ago, the boys and I were involved in the shoot-out.’ Santi began. ‘Pretty standard for the type of operation we were on.’

‘Right. Standard office work.’ You muttered. ‘Do go on.’

‘We thought everyone who had witnessed it had been recorded.’ He continued. ‘And everyone who we spoke to verified that it was a justified shootout. No dirty work, no ulterior motive. All valid, from a legal perspective.’

You thinned your eyes. ‘I don’t think I like where this is going.’

‘We ID’d all the bodies at the time.’ He said. ‘Including a Ricky Martinez. Except now, a guy claiming to also be Ricky Martinez has come forward, claiming that his version of events is a little different. Like, different enough to incriminate us.’

‘He’s lying, right? You guys were the good ones?’ You urged. Santiago’s silence was anything but comforting. ‘Right?’

‘Morals are all a matter of perspective.’ He replied. ‘Our labs ID’d Martinez’ body twice but we need a third party opinion before we can completely dispel the guy pretending to be him.’

‘Guess that’s where I come in?’ You asked, leaning further back into the seat as the jet began to move. 

‘Exactamente.’ Santi nodded. 

That didn’t sound too bad. Between excavating the grave, running tests and returning the body, it would take a few days tops. You could manage that. 

The jet began to pick up speed, making its ascent towards the runway. Frankie did look like he knew what he was doing -- heck, the man looked bored, even.  He barely even had to look at the dash controls as it moved forward, hands moving freely and easily to manoeuvre the plane down the runway. 

‘What are you staring at?’ Frankie glanced over at you. 

‘N-nothing.’ You replied.  ‘Shouldn’t you be focusing on the road-’

‘- that’s a runway.’ He cut you off. 

‘Whatever.’

You were thrown backwards in your chair from the momentum of the take off. The plane angled upwards as it went up in the air, tilting sideways as it balanced out. You felt your stomach drop as the ground disappeared from beneath you, the push of the engines pulling you up higher into the sky. There was a clunk, signalling that the landing gear had retracted. 

Well, the plane had fulfilled its first purpose: taking off. That was a good sign. 

‘So,’ Benny peered over at you. ‘What’s your callsign gonna be?’

‘My name, presumably.’ You quirked a brow at him. 

‘We have Ironhead, Catfish and Pope.’ He continued. ‘But Will and I were talking, and we thought Barbie was gonna fit well.’ 

‘Oh, really?’ You sniffed. ‘And why might that be?’

‘Because you’re young, and pretty hot-’

‘- so your call sign is Benny, right?’ You cut him off. ‘Short for Benjamin? That’s really clever. Did you come up with it yourself?’

‘Maybe Eye Candy will be beter-’

Benny was cut off when you reached across, leaning over Santi to smack him in the chest with your balled up fist. All four of them jumped in surprise at your action - clearly, you weren’t somebody to be fucked with. You hadn’t worked your ass for years to get your degree to get discredited like that. 

‘Make a comment like that again and I’ll drop kick your ass out of this plane.’ You jabbed your finger towards him. 

Benny thinned his eyes at you. ‘Frankie wouldn’t let you do that. Right, Cat?’

‘You heard ‘em.’ Frankie’s eyes didn’t move from the clouds ahead. 

--

To give credit where credit was due, Frankie was good at landing planes. 

Specifically, he was good at landing planes in places where planes should not have been landed. Not that he’d had much of a choice when the engines gave in half way through the journey, a couple hundred miles over the thick Colombian jungle. 

In short, you’d been right the entire time. The damn thing wasn’t safe. Of course, you weren’t going to say I told you so right then, since it felt like a little bit of a sensitive subject. 

Now, the five of you were standing next to a pile of what-used-to-be-a-plane, defeat plastered over every one of your individual faces. You were lucky to all have made it out okay - just about. Santiago had taken a hit to the head, Benny had bitten his tongue pretty hard when you’d collided with the ground (fitting) and Frankie had split his head open. You and Will were the only ones who hadn’t sustained any injuries. He had proven to be much more tolerable than his brother. 

‘Okay, we just gotta…’ you looked around, eyes taking in the debris around you. ‘We just gotta stay calm-’

‘- stay calm?’ Frankie cut you off. ‘You’re the reason the fucking thing went down! If you hadn’t taken all that extra weight-’

‘- do you ever shut up, Morales?’ You snapped. ‘And I’m no genius but I don’t think the engines catching fire was anything to do with me bringing an extra bag onto the plane!’

‘I’m the pilot.’ He reminded you. ‘I know what I’m talking about.’

‘Maybe it was the weight of your ego that made it go down.’ You chided. 

‘Hey - Patrick, Spongebob!’ Will finally yelled. Both your heads snapped in his direction, eyes wide. ‘Can you keep it in your pants for two minutes so we can work out how to make it through the night?’

‘Right, sorry.’ You nodded. 

You glanced around the crash site, brain calculating for a minute as you took in what little was left. The plan had landed on its belly and skidded for a few hundred metres; consequently, most of the luggage had come out on the way. That left you with the one remaining bag, the medkit you’d scared Santi into bringing and the strewn camping kit that had been ditched in the back of the fuselage. 

Pulling your phone out your pocket, you sighed when you realised that you had no signal. What had you expected? Four bars in the middle of the jungle? Probably not realistic. You did, however, have a compass app. That was something. You thought for a moment, glancing between the app and the sun’s position in the sky. It was splintering through the trees, washing heat over you like a bucket of cold water. There was a small stream a few metres away, which was a source of water at least. 

‘It’s just gone four, maybe five in the afternoon.’ You announced. ‘So we have about three hours till the sun starts to set. The water in the stream runs that way so if we follow it, we’ll find the source. People are more likely to set up civilization around a source of water.’ 

All four of them looked at you like kids who had lost their parents in Walmart.  Were they really ex-military? 

‘So, what?’ Benny frowned. ‘We...set up a new civilisation?’

‘Oh my days.’ You muttered under your breath. ‘I am spoon-feeding this to you! It means that there will be a town with people.’ 

‘That’s smart.’ Santi nodded. 

‘But before we do that, we gotta sort this out. Will, d’you know how to check for concussion?’ You asked, to which he nodded. ‘Okay, you check Santi and I’ll clean up Frankie’s head. Then we gotta gather those camping supplies and head east. Best case scenario, we find a town before sundown. Worst case scenario, we camp out for the night.’

‘Who put you in charge?’ Frankie asked.

‘Me.’ You replied. 

Taking the medkit from Santi’s hands, you quietly thanked him and led Frankie over to some rocks. He didn’t seem all that pleased when you forced him to sit on one - and he was even less pleased when you pulled his hat off. It revealed a tangle of dark curls, some of which you had to push back to get to the mark on his head. Some may have debated the importance of mentioning such a detail, but you couldn’t help but notice how soft his hair was. 

You knelt down in front of him, pulling the supplies out of the little medical kit. There weren't many, but there was enough to give him something temporary till you got to a proper hospital. If you got a proper hospital. 

‘It’s not too deep.’ You observed, running your thumb over the creases of his forehead. ‘Just a couple stitches at worst.’

‘Don’t you normally stitch up bodies?’ Frankie asked. His brown eyes were glued to the floor, following the outlines of the boot-prints that you’d left. 

‘Yeah, it’s the same kinda principle though.’ You laughed slightly. ‘Despite your attitude, I’m not gonna give you Y-incision stitches.’

‘Thanks.’

‘At least not in a place people can see them.’

Frankie snorted, but it translated to a hiss of pain as you dabbed an alcohol wipe at his forehead. Despite everything, you had a slight admiration for him. He’d managed to land the plane safely as the situation allowed and despite a few minor injuries, things could have been much worse. You didn’t quite feel like vocalising that to him when you were still stranded in the middle of the jungle, but if you ever got out? You might get Santi to pass the message on. 

‘D’ you think it’ll scar?’ Frankie quietly asked. 

‘Maybe.’ You admitted. ‘Just take a deep breath.’

‘Where did you even learn to do this stuff?’ He asked, letting out another small grunt of discomfort. ‘The stitches and the compass shit.’

You shrugged. ‘I’ve been around the block a few times. You kinda learn to be prepared.’

‘Really? As a morgue worker?’

‘Not a morgue worker.’ You grumbled. ‘Then again, I am stabbing a needle through your skin so I suppose I’ll allow the discrepancy.’ 

‘What is it you do then?’

‘I’m a forensic archaeologist.’ You explained. ‘So it’s my job to retrospectively work out how people died, whether it be because their body was found a long time after they died or because they had to be exhumed from their original resting place.’

Gently pulling the needle back from Frankie’s forehead, you cut the thread and dabbed it again with an alcohol wipe. You brushed his hair back down and placed his hat back on his head, offering him a smile. For the first time since you’d met him, he returned the gesture. 

You dusted off your knees and took a place on the rock beside Frankie, examining your handy work. Considering you’d been in a plane crash not quite an hour ago, it wasn’t too bad. At least if it did scar, it was in a place his hair covered up. And in your defense, scarring wasn’t usually something you had to worry about with your other...patients. They usually went back in the ground not long after you dealt with them. 

‘You’ll wanna sit down for a minute.’ You replied. ‘D’you feel dizzy at all? Sick?’

‘I was just in a plane crash.’

‘Me too, funnily enough.’ You rolled your eyes at him. ‘I s’pose it’s the most interesting job I’ve worked in a while.’

‘Same here.’ Frankie said. ‘I normally work for a flight school, so this is...something else.’

‘It’ll make me grateful when I get back to the office.’ You agreed. ‘Because it has four walls, air conditioner and co-workers who don’t give me ridiculous nicknames.’

‘Right.’ He snorted. ‘Benny can be...Benny. He doesn’t mean to be an asshole.’ 

‘Benny wasn’t the asshole.’ You quipped, nudging him with your elbow.

At least Frankie had proven now that he could talk to you without being insufferable. You couldn’t work out if you’d warmed to him or if he’d warmed to you, but doing somebody’s stitches was unarguably one hell of an icebreaker. He was just a little closed off; quiet and reserved, you figured. You didn’t know what him and the Delta guys had been through, but Santi had mentioned a few things in passing that pointed to a heavy past. That was something you could relate to - your job was no walk in the park either 

‘It’s not...personal.’ Frankie glanced off into the distance. 

Will had managed to salvage the remaining bag from the jet, meaning that Santiago could use it as a seat. Benny was sitting with them, talking amongst themselves. You would have to move soon, in order to find a suitable place to camp before sundown, but taking a minute to recover from the last hour was also important. You’d barely stopped to sit down since the plane had gone down, and now you had, the shock had hit you. Your suspicions about safety had actually been correct. Not that it mattered now, but at least you had a plan to get everyone back to civilization as soon as possible. 

‘So you being an ice cold bitch isn’t to do with me? That’s a relief.’ You joked. Frankie smiled in response; his first genuine one since you’d met. 

‘The witness that you were going to ID was from the last job we all worked together.’ He explained ‘It went bad. Really bad.’

‘From what Santi said, it sure did sound like it.’ You replied. 

‘I hadn’t seen anything as bad as we did then since I was stationed out in the war zones.’ He continued. ‘So being back here, and being with the guys, has just put me on edge. I’m sorry if I was an asshole.’

‘You don’t have to say sorry.’ You shook your head. ‘I mean...actually, yeah, you were an asshole but I get it.’

‘You do?’

‘Forensic archeology is no walk in the park either.’ You replied. ‘It’s my job to work out how people have died. Most of my work is on crime scenes or in war zones so I’ve seen some...dark stuff.’

‘It sticks with you.’ Frankie quietly murmured. 

‘Yeah, it does.’ You said. ‘I know you might not think it on the surface, because it’s the usual sort of job that leaves stuff weighing on your shoulders-’

‘- doesn’t matter.’ He cut you off. ‘Trauma is trauma. Regardless of how you got it or where it came from, it’s valid.’

You gave him a small smile. Maybe he wasn’t so bad. 

---

Later that night -- and after a few hours of walking -- you and the guys had settled down into a makeshift campsite. It was just at the edge of a clearing, not too far from what looked to be a small town glinting in the distance. You did offer to keep going, but between the injuries the group had sustained, it was easier to stop for the night. You had enough of a combined skillset to find some fruit growing to snack on and to start a fire.

Santiago, Will and Benny had long passed out. It wasn’t until after they had done so that you realised there was absolutely no room left in the tent. It was only built for two people, let alone five. Where that left you in terms of sleeping arrangements, you didn’t know, but the chances of even getting to rest felt low. Your brain was on full overdrive, tired eyes darting constantly around the distance. How safe was this place? You’d managed to convince yourself that the plane was secure, and that had gone down like...well, like the fucking plane. 

You were sitting on a log, drawing pictures in the dirt with a stick. It was just something to keep your brain occupied as you fought off the tiredness. The jet-lag from your flight to Colombia had hit in full force and you wanted nothing more than to crawl into your bed -- the bed that wasn’t there. 

‘So, are you keeping a look-out?’ 

You jumped at the sound of Frankie’s voice, twisting around to face him. ‘Something like that.’

‘I can take over if you want.’ He offered. ‘You should get some rest. You’ve saved our asses like three times today.’

‘Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t fit into that tent.’ You replied. ‘I can hear them snoring from here.’

‘Is it worse than the alternative of me keeping you company?’ He softly smiled, taking a seat beside you. ‘I’ll promise not to be an asshole anymore.’

‘We spoke about this.’ You reminded him. ‘I get it. It’s okay.’

‘I still feel bad.’ He sighed. ‘Especially after you stitched me up and led us through the jungle. We woulda eaten something poisonous and died if you hadn’t stopped Benny going near those mushrooms.’

You chuckled. ‘Don’t feel bad, okay? You’ve had bad experiences before and it’s natural to be anxious.’

‘I shouldn’t have taken it out on you-’

‘- Frankie!’ You cut him off with a groan. ‘I’m about to be an asshole if you don’t stop saying sorry.’

‘So we’re good?’ 

‘We’re good.’ You smiled. ‘Thanks for keeping me company.’

‘Santiago, in no uncertain terms, made it clear that he would come for our kneecaps if we left you alone in the dark.’ Frankie admitted. ‘I think he likes you.’

You chuckled, shaking your head. ‘I think you have the wrong idea. Santi is only so protective of me because he’s one of my brother’s best friends, and I guess by extension, that kind of makes him my brother too. They go right back to high school, and then they did the academy together.’

‘That’s a long time.’ Frankie nodded. ‘So you and Santi, that’s...nothing, right?’

‘Absolutely not.’ You snorted derivatively. ‘And if it was, my brother would probably end him.’

‘So,’ He took a stick from the floor, joining in with random doodles you were carving into the ground. ‘Be honest: if these stitches scar, d’you think I’ll look rugged and handsome?’

You peered over at him, eyes creasing as your smile grew wider. ‘Sure. Why not?’

‘Ouch.’ He dramatically grabbed his heart, shaking his head. ‘The correct answer was no Frankie, you already look rugged and handsome.’

‘Okay, it would make you look more rugged and handsome.’ You rolled your eyes. ‘Better?’

‘Better.’ He grinned triumphantly. ‘When was the last time you stitched up a living, breathing human?’

‘College, I think.’ You replied. ‘My roommate got into a fight and didn’t have insurance, so I did some makeshift stitches with a cheap sewing kit we found at a 24/7 corner shop.’

‘We’ve all done it.’ He laughed. ‘I’m glad the stitches you gave me were actual, professional ones...right?’

‘Obviously!’ You exclaimed. ‘You’ll probably want to get them redone when we get back to...y’know, civilisation.’

‘Naturally.’ He nodded. ‘I appreciate you stitching me up. The others would not have been able to do that if it had been just us.’

You shrugged. ‘It’s nothing, really.’

‘What if - and feel free to blatantly reject me for my earlier actions - I took you out for a drink when we got back? Y’know, if we ever get back to civilisation.’

‘Yeah, okay.’ You smiled. 

Normally, Frankie wouldn’t have been that bold -- and you would have absolutely rejected someone who had made such a terrible first impression. But, said impression had changed. He’d been an asshole but you could see why; you could reason with it, even. God knew that you also had a tendency to become withdrawn and irritable when you were retracting back to the darker corners of your mind. Bad days on the job were hard to shake. They stuck with you for a long time. 

The conversation continued, though you couldn’t recall exactly what it was about. Nothing and everything. Growing up and going to college - or for Frankie, the military. You compared stories of Santiago; Frankie’s were better, but yours were pretty good. He told you about how he’d got his piloting license back, and you in return offered a tale of the time that your brother had gotten a DUI. 

Between the warmth of Frankie beside you and the crackling fire in front of you, it became harder and harder to fight off your exhaustion. You would have been tired enough if you were from this timezone, but your body clock was hours out of whack. With your eyelids getting heavier and the dark sky above you, it wasn’t long before you’d flopped into the pilot’s side with defeat. 

‘’M sorry.’ You murmured. 

‘It’s fine, you don’t have to apologise.’ Frankie replied. He moved his arm around your shoulders to support your weight from falling off the log - also to give a sign that he was more than okay with it. 

You rested your chin on his shoulder, peering up at him. Now that his cold facade had slipped away, you could admire him a little bit more. Warm chocolate eyes, a strong jawline, and a face that just felt kind, even despite initial impressions. The warm glow of the fire illuminated his face with a soft hue, making the lighter tones of his eyes a little more visible. 

You were both still lingering from the adrenaline of the plane crash, hearts pounding in your chests and brains wrestling with the idea that you’d both made it out with minor injuries. Was that what had made you bold? The sudden reminder of your mortality? Because you never would have kissed him if it had been a normal night.

He met you halfway, lips gently capturing yours in a soft kiss. They were a little chapped from the humidity of the jungle air, but intoxicating and enchanting all the same. He tasted very, very faintly of tobacco and a little bit of mint -- had the bastard had chewing gum this whole time? Not that it was relevant. Not that anything else in the world was relevant. Not when Frankie Morales was kissing you.

Neither of you said anything after; he simply pulled you into his chest, resting his head on top of yours. Between the mental exhaustion and emotional ping-pong game that you were partaking in, you wanted to sleep. 

And sleep, you did; tangled together on the dirt of the jungle floor, not a worry in the world. 

---

Time passed. 

It passed quickly and slowly all at once. 

Once you’d found a little town and got on a coach to Medellin, you did what you came to do: identified the body, cleared their names and closed the case. Your duties at your actual job called you back home and less than a day later, you were on a plane home. 

After that, everything was a blur. You tried to keep in contact with everyone, but life was demanding as ever. Thanks to a promotion at work, you were being kept busy 24/7. Santiago finally retired from active duty and moved back to your hometown, near to his parents and to the guys. Even with the group chat he’d made - affectionately titled Plane Pals - it was hard to constantly keep up with everyone. 

You and Frankie had texted for a while, but it sort of faded out. Whenever you were able to make it back home to see him and everyone else, he was busy. You’d both tried to make plans a few times but they’d never come to fruition. You still texted each other happy birthday every year, but that was it. Like that night in the jungle, he quickly became a thing of the past. A distant memory that sometimes felt like a dream. 

It made a good dinner table story, especially for first dates. You told it on many actually, actually -- only one ever went well. So well, in fact, that you’d ended up in a four-year-relationship. A marine biologist called Simon; not boring, but not necessarily exciting either. He was nice...enough. Nice enough that you didn’t find a reason to leave. 

Looking back, you probably had a million reasons to leave. He was an asshole, for one. The last time he’d treated you right had been your first anniversary - and for some reason, you’d stuck around to celebrate your second and third and fourth. Everyone around you was settling down, and you felt that pressure too. 

Even Santiago fucking Garcia, the biggest flirt and bachelor you knew, was getting married. You’d RSVP’d a plus one - Simon, obviously - but the week before you were due to fly home for the wedding, things had finally reached a bitter end. You weren’t sad about him; more sad that you’d wasted four years of your life on the Walmart equivalent to Ned Flanders. 

On the brightside, your brother’s respective relationship had also gone through a shitty demise, meaning you could move your seats at the reception next to one another. Like Santiago, he had also retired from the military and was living his best life - even though it had taken six months for him to start speaking to his friend again. He hadn’t taken well to the idea of Santiago taking you on a job that left you in the middle of the jungle. 

‘People are gonna ask where Simon is, aren’t they?’ You muttered. 

‘Cheer up.’ Your brother nudged you. ‘I know what’ll help - let’s make a bet.’

‘What?’ You groaned. 

You were standing outside the church, waiting to be called inside. You’d waved at Benny and Will as they came in. The latter had kids of his own now, but Benny was focusing on his boxing career. He hadn’t called you Barbie again though, so that was something. 

‘I bet you twenty bucks that Santiago is divorced by the end of the year.’ Your brother grinned. 

‘No! That’s horrible.’ You slapped his arm. 

‘Whatever. That’s $20 you’re missing out on.’

‘I hate that we’re related.’

‘Me too.’

‘Shut up!’

‘You said it first!’

The two of you were cut off by someone clearing their throats.

You almost did a double take when you saw Frankie Morales stood in front of you. He didn’t look that different to his six-year-old Whatsapp profile picture; he wasn’t wearing his hat, instead wearing his hair pushed back, and rather than his old tac vest, he had a suit and tie on. You had a sort of vision of him in your head from that night, but it didn’t do him justice. He was even better in person. 

‘Catfish!’ Your brother jeered. ‘Ain’t you a sight for sore eyes!’ 

‘Says you!’ Frankie gave him a slap on the back. His eyes then fell to you, and his demeanour changed a little. ‘Hey.’

‘Frankie fucking Morales.’ You murmured. ‘How’re you?’

‘Thriving.’ He replied. ‘You?’

‘Also thriving.’ You smiled. 

‘I was sorry to hear about the divorce, man.’ Your brother, as clueless as ever, didn’t sense the sudden onset of tension. 

‘Divorce?’ You blinked in surprise. ‘Is that really something you should bring up-’

‘- you brought up your break up at dinner last week-’

‘- only because you brought up yours first-’

‘- guys!’ Frankie cut you off. ‘It’s fine, really. I appreciate you looking out for me but it was a while ago now. Besides, I’ve got Leya. She takes up all my time.’

‘Leya?’ your eyebrows shot up. ‘Is that your girl-’

You were interrupted by a bell ringing, signalling that it was time for the guests to enter the church. Did the universe hate you? What kind of fucking dreadful timing was that? 

‘I’ll see you guys at the reception, right?’ Frankie asked. 

‘Sure thing, dude.’ Your brother waved him off.

The pilot turned on his heel, giving you a smile as he headed for the church. He was the best man after all, and his presence probably was needed. 

‘You asshole!’ You have his shoulder another whack. ‘I was talking to him!’

‘Jesus, calm down! And why do you hit so hard?’ He huffed. ‘What’s so important?’

‘Who’s Leya?’

‘I dunno! Do I look like Gossip Girl?’

‘Yeah.’

‘You’re mean.’ He grabbed you by the arm, dragging you towards the church entrance. ‘And mum made me promise to make sure you wouldn’t play Doodle Jump during the vows.’

‘That was one time!’ You snapped. 

Thankfully, the actual ceremony passed quicker than you thought. Santiago’s new wife was beautiful -- you hadn’t met Yovanna before, but both her and Santi had greeted you with a bright smile as you entered the reception. It was in a large hotel room, decorated with strings of fairy lights and a large dance floor. A lot of thought had clearly got into it. 

It made you a little sad to think about. How many weddings had you been to in the last five years? How many times had people looked at you and your former boyfriend and said you’ll be next. You weren’t even sad about him. If anything, you were mad that you’d let yourself think about marrying him. You could do better. You were going to do better.

‘Is that girl over there eying me up?’ Your brother’s voice pulled you back to reality. ‘I swear she’s been giving me heart eyes since they brought dessert out.’

‘Which one?’

‘The one in the cute dress! Brown hair, dark eyes-’

‘- that’s Santi’s cousin.’ You rolled your eyes. 

‘And?’

‘Santi’s cousin who is a lesbian?’ You tried to suppress a laugh. ‘Who has been with her wife for 11 years and has three children?’

He groaned. ‘Why must you find such joy in my pain?’

‘It’s what siblings are for.’ You grinned. ‘I’m gonna get a drink. D’you want anything?’

He only let out another groan in response - you took that as a no, simply giving him a pat on the head as you stood up. 

You’d tried to ask around with a few mutual friends if they knew who Leya was -- either they hadn’t seen Frankie in a while, or they pushed to know why you were asking. You couldn’t exactly play that one as suave. Nobody took a casual interest in the personal life of somebody they barely knew -- even though you did know Frankie. Quite well, actually. He’d practically recounted his entire life story to you that night. Told you things that not even Santi knew. 

‘What can I get for you?’ The bartender asked. 

‘Uhhh…’ you glanced up at the menu. ‘Is it an open bar?’

‘If I had enough money for every time someone asked me that tonight, I’d be able to pay for all the drinks.’  She shot back. ‘So, no.’

‘Jeez.’ You muttered. ‘How much for a double rum?’

‘Fifteen bucks.’

‘Fifteen?!’ You spluttered. ‘How much is tap water?’

‘Y’know, I still owe you a drink.’

Like earlier, Frankie had suddenly appeared unannounced. You couldn’t help but grin when you saw him leaning against the bar beside you, a goofy smile plastered across his face and his undone tie wrapped around his left hand. Your eyes flickered up to his forehead, examining it for a minute. 

‘So the stitches didn’t scar?’ You asked. 

He pulled back his hair, shaking his head. ‘Nope.’ 

‘You lucky duck.’ You quipped. ‘So. About that drink?’

‘This shit is insanely overpriced.’ Frankie said. ‘I can steal us a bottle of wine if you’re willing to hide and drink it?

You glanced over at your brother, who was now crying to one of Santiago’s great aunts, piling cake into his mouth. 

‘Yeah. I’m down for that.’ 

--

Five minutes later, you and Frankie were out in the gardens of the hotel. It had been raining all day, but there was an undercover patio not too far from the main reception; the walls were made out of white wood, with red roses trailing up the side. The fairly lights tangled beside them illuminated the place in a gentle glow, blue evening sky providing a beautiful contrast. Even though the showers had stopped, you could still smell the rain in the fresh evening air. 

‘Wine?’ Frankie led you to a seat by the edge of the patio. ‘I stole it from the head table so it's the expensive shit.’

He tore the cork off, handing you the bottle. Neither of you had brought glasses, but you didn’t mind drinking from the same bottle. You’d kissed already - what was the point in formalities? 

‘I hate it to break it to you.’ You paused to wipe your mouth, recovering from the bitter taste. ‘But that’s champagne.’

‘Still alcohol, right?’ He took it from your hands, taking a swig. ‘And it’s free!’

‘You’re right.’ You chuckled. ‘So...I believe we have four years worth of catching up to do.’

‘D’you wanna go first?’ Frankie offered. ‘I heard you got a promotion.’

‘I did, yeah.’ You grinned. ‘It’s a thousand times more work but I get more control over what jobs I take, so that’s good.’

‘Anyone special in your life?’ He asked. 

‘Cut the shit, Frankie.’ You groaned. ‘I know that Santi updates you on every second of my life as it happens.’

‘You got me there. He mentioned a...Steven?’

‘A Simon.’ You corrected. ‘But Dickhead or Asshole works just as well.’

‘Damn, I’m sorry.’ Frankie gave your leg a light squeeze. ‘What happened?’

‘He didn’t deserve me and I stayed with him too long.’ You shrugged. ‘I didn’t think I had a reason to leave.’ 

‘Not having a reason to leave isn’t a reason to stay.’ He murmured. 

You didn’t know whether to bring up the D-Word. D-i-v-o-r-c-e. He hadn’t seemed that phase when your sibling had so eloquently and gently brought it up earlier, but you knew Frankie was good at putting on a front. It was why you’d clashed when you first met. 

‘Am I allowed to ask?’ You quietly said. 

‘It’s nothing bad.’ He shrugged. ‘I mean it is bad, terrible actually, but it was two years ago now. We only got married because she got pregnant and then left the minute our daughter was born.’

‘Leya.’ You didn’t mean to say the name out loud, but it made sense now. ‘Leya is your daughter.’

‘Yeah.’ Frankie warmly smiled. ‘I hate what happened but I’d do it all over again ten times if it meant having her in my life.’

He spent the next few minutes telling you about her. She was named Leya after a certain space princess, though Frankie had changed the spelling to make it less obvious (to which you had argued it was still quite obvious, but a cool name nonetheless). She was currently three years old, often got confused between Spanish and English words, and enjoyed Power Rangers. All in all, she sounded like a great kid. Above all, it was obvious how much she meant to Frankie. His whole face lit up when he spoke about her. Her mum was entirely out the picture, meaning he was doing the whole thing by himself. 

‘She sounds amazing.’ You beamed, peering down at the picture on his phone. ‘She looks so much like you.’

‘Thank God.’ Frankie murmured. ‘I dunno if it being a dad has made me more introspective, but I think about that night a lot.’

‘Me too.’ You replied. ‘Not the thing about being a dad. The other part.’

He laughed. ‘I got that.’

‘What do you think about?’

‘You, mostly.’ He admitted. ‘The fact I was an asshole. The fact you basically saved us all. The fact I never got to take you out for that drink.’

You took a swig of champagne, poking his arm. ‘We’re doing it now!’

‘I know.’ He grinned. ‘I just...I know it was only one night but we might not have been around to tell the story if you hadn't been there.’

‘You were the one who landed the plane safely.’

‘Which wouldn’t have mattered if you didn’t do all the stuff after.’ He reminded you. ‘The thing I think about most, though, is that kiss.’

You froze slightly, head slowly turning to look at him. He was peering down at you now, brown eyes intently gazing at you, not unlike they had the first time you’d been in this position. Now, you weren’t both beyond exhausted, or stuck in the middle of the jungle. You were safe and sound, right here with one another. 

‘It was a pretty good kiss.’ You edged slightly closer towards him. 

‘A very good kiss.’

‘Maybe we should do it-’

Frankie cut you off, meeting your demand before you could even finish it. He was just as you remembered; chapped-but-soft lips with a hint of mint. No tobacco this time. He gently placed a hand on the back of your neck, pulling you further up towards him. It was like you were both reliving the memory of that night in a dream - something you’d done many times. Your memory of it had faded over time but this? This was vivid and giddy and entirely consuming all at once. 

‘You know,’ Frankie pulled back for a moment, keeping his hand on the back of your neck and forehead pressed to yours. ‘I asked Santi about you a few years ago, pretty much the minute I realised I was ready to move on from...her.’ 

‘You did?’ You murmured. 

‘That’s when he said you’d been seeing Simon for a few weeks.’ He admitted. ‘I was gutted. Kept wishing I’d got there first.’

‘I wish you had got to me first.’ You lightly chuckled. ‘It would have saved me a lot of pain.’

‘If I were to ask out now, what would you say?’

‘Fuck yes, obviously.’

‘Good.’ He pressed a brief peck to your lips. ‘I admire the enthusiasm.’

That night - well, actually it had probably been the night in Colombia, depending on who you asked - marked the start of a fresh start for you both. What had initially started out as an attempt to seek solace in one another during a difficult time had led you to something more: something whole, something fulfilling. 

If someone had told you the first time you’d met Frankie Morales that the unfriendly pilot was going to become the best thing that ever happened to you, you probably would have slapped them. Or laughed, or cried, or all three. That night you met, you thought the emotions you were feeling were from the plane crash -- adrenaline and warmth and panic. 

As it would turn out, it was simply the feeling of knowing -- knowing that Frankie Morales was it.

[fanmoose12]

Partners

Characters: Petra Ral, Levi, Hanji Zoe x Levi Genre: Action / Mystery / Romance Rating: T

Detective!au

Summary: when Petra was promoted to a detective and partnered up with legendary Levi Ackerman, she felt like the happiest person in the world.

But, as she soon found out, detective Ackerman she used to admire so much was actually a far cry from the ideal policeman Petra thought he was. He was rude, harsh and easily annoyed. And, in addition, he still hadn’t moved on from the death of his previous partner - detective Hange Zoe.

Chapter 11/?

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Сhapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Сhapter 7

Сhapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

With every word from Levi's mouth, Erwin's face grew darker and darker.

"Fuck." He declared, as soon as Levi had finished. "Fuck," he repeated, rubbing his temples. He took a deep, heavy sigh, and when he blinked, the tense expression was miraculously gone, the usual look, full of determination and conviction, taking its place.

"So no sign of forced entry?” he asked, calm and collected and completely devoid of the previous frustration. “No sign of struggle? And no sign of Petra?"

"Yes, sir." Oluo confirmed with a frantic nod, which reminded Levi of a stupid toy dog Hange once put in his car.

Had the matter at hand been at least a little less grave, perhaps, he’d even crake a smile at the comparison. Hange definitely would have. Alas…

“And do we know who’s behind it?”

“No,” Levi replied. “Hange suspects one of Zeke’s man, but she also thinks some third party is involved.”

Erwin accepted his answer, slowly scratching his chin. “And where is Hange herself?"

“She went to talk to Zeke to ask if he knows something, and…" Levi faltered, not sure if he should share this information with Erwin. Hange was sure that Zeke was innocent, and Levi never doubted her, but…

"And?" Erwin prompted.

Fuck it, Levi decided. Perhaps, Erwin’s unbiased opinion was exactly what they needed.

"Oluo found Zeke's cigarette pack inside the apartment," he said, throwing it on Erwin's desk.

"It's not his," there wasn’t even a hint of doubt in his voice. Erwin didn’t even glance twice at the evidence presented to him. "Zeke would never be so careless. Someone's trying to sabotage him, and they are not very good at it."

“So you think it’s someone else?”

“Naturally.”

Erwin’s confidence eased a portion of his worries. If he and Hange were of the same mind, then it must be the truth. At least, he didn’t let Hange meet up with a potential culprit all by herself. Not that it gradually quelled his concern, but it was something…

“Zeke Yeager…” Oluo mumbled, biting his thumb. “Yeager, Yeager… I heard this name somewhere…”

“Huh?” Levi raised an eyebrow, looking quizzically at him.

“Yeager!” he exclaimed, his eyes lightening up. “Of course! Yes, now it came back to me!”

“What came back?” Levi demanded, glaring at Oluo in annoyance. God, how he hated being kept in the dark…

Oluo didn’t respond, irritating Levi even more. Instead he reached Erwin’s desk in two short strides, pushing him aside. “May I, sir?”

“Be my guest,” Erwin made a welcoming gesture, pulling his chair back. “If you know something, then…”

“Could be just a coincidence,”Oluo muttered, as he opened the database on Erwin’s computer. “But…”

For a long moment nothing happened. The office was silent, except for the sounds of typing on a keyboard, and Oluo’s quiet murmurs.  

Levi shared a look with Erwin. He shrugged helplessly, seeming just as bewildered by Oluo’s actions, as Levi himself felt.

“Aha!” he beamed, finally showing Erwin what he found. “Like I said, could be just a coincidence, but I came across name Yeager before. Here.”

“A family murdered in their own house,” Erwin began reading, his eyes quickly scanning the page. “Wife and husband found dead in their own bedroom by their fourteen year old son, who came back from a sleepover. The identity of a murderer remains unknown.”

“It was the first case I took as I started working,” Oluo confessed, scratching his neck. “That’s why it stuck with me. Don’t know if it has any connections to your Zeke…”

“The father of the family, Grisha Yeager,” Levi read the name from behind Erwin’s shoulder. “Zeke is his son. From the first marriage, but still… Maybe, he was murdered, because someone wanted to get back at Zeke.”

“And now that same someone wants to finish the job,” Erwin agreed. “The culprit was never found after all. It’s a solid theory.”

“Or as solid as we can get for now,” Levi nodded.

"It's different from other cases, though,” Erwin contemplated thoughtfully, his gaze turning distant, as he taped his finger against the desk.

"Other cases?" Oluo shuddered. "Are you talking about recent... Murder cases?" he paled, his lower lip trembled, and Levi started to regret bringing him here. They needed to keep their heads clear. Petra needed them to keep their heads clear. There was no time for worrying and panicking right now.

In Levi’s experience, that attitude could only lead to more tragedy.

"It's obviously different with Petra," Erwin said, his voice going an octave softer. Levi stared at him, almost gawking. Erwin wasn't the man to give empty promises. Either he was that optimistic about this whole ordeal, or... Levi preferred not to think about the other possibility.

"Levi?" Erwin turned to him. "What do you think?"

"I think Oluo is right, Petra was taken by someone close to Zeke. But either it was the same perpetrator from before or someone else, it remains to be unknown," he replied. "And I think we don't have any time to waste."

"Agreed," Erwin clenched his jaw, his brows furrowed. "I'll talk with Pixis and Nile, ask if they know anything or if they have any people they can spare... We need to start the search..."

"Sannes!" Oluo suddenly exclaimed, startling Erwin and Levi. "Sannes, we should check him first! We’ve planted a bug on him just yesterday!"

"Fuck," Levi groaned in frustration, feeling like the biggest and the most useless idiot in the world. He had completely forgotten about it.

"I didn't see him at work today," Erwin noted. "Perhaps, it's worth checking it out. Take care of it, Levi."

"Will do," he nodded. "Permission to go?"

"Report to me once you find anything," Erwin stood up. "I'll go to Pixis and Nile."

Levi nodded again, and left the office, his steps swift and heavy.

 ***

"Could it be our lead?" Oluo asked.

They've listened through every conversation that Sannes had that day and the day before. And only one of them, the one where he had agreed to a meeting with an unknown man, had raised Levi's suspicion.

"Not sure if we can call it a lead," he mumbled, biting his lip. There was no word about Petra and no mention of the actual location, but it was something they could work with. It was a starting point, at the very least. Much better than nothing. "But it's definitely a clue. Come on, we need to continue our investigation."

"Meaning..."

"Meaning we're going to break into Sannes' office and see if we can find something inside. Don't worry," he clasped Oluo's shoulder with just a little too much force. Oluo coughed, almost doubling over under Levi’s hard hand. "Nothing you hadn't done before."

  ***

“Zeke is a fool,” the man sneered, his voice full of disgust. “He’s not the man he was before. Ever since he took in that Zoe, he made mistake after mistake. It’s time to put an end to this. It’s time for someone else to take over his legacy. Our gang needs a new leader. Someone, who has as much potential as Zeke, but who doesn’t yet possess any of his flaws. Someone, who is cunning and ruthless. There is only one man who can do this," he finished, and even from afar Petra could see a shine of adoration in his eyes.

Sannes scoffed, rolling his eyes, not moved by the passionate speech at all. "And who is that?"

"No one can achieve the greatness Zeke once possessed. Except," the man smiled, and the sight of it made shivers run down Petra's spine.

"His own brother."

"You've gone mad," Sannes rolled his eyes, still unconvinced. "You've lost it completely, and now you want to drag me down with you. I refuse. Good luck getting arrested, but I’m out of here.”

“You’ll regret this, Sannes,” the man promised, his eyes flashing. “You’ll come begging for us to take you back in no time.”

“I really doubt that, boy,” Sannes sneered, his face showing nothing but disgust. “And if you’re going to actually proceed with your plan, then be ready to meet Ackerman. Believe me, it won’t be a pleasing experience. See you in prison,” he finished, and left, throwing the door shut.

As soon as Sannes had stormed out, the man with an eerie smile turned around to face her.

Instantly, Petra closed her eyes and lowered her head, but the man simply laughed.

"There is no need to pretend," he spoke, shortening the distance between them. "I know you've been awake for quite some time, detective Ral."

She looked up then, saying nothing and glaring at him beneath her bangs. Just the sight of that man left her breathless, her heart beating so loudly she could hear it in her ears, but she wouldn’t show him her fear. She was better than this. He may have had an ultimate upper hand over her, but she would never give him the satisfaction of seeing her tremble.

"I think we've started off on a wrong foot," the man smiled, the shadow of a lightbulb above him making him look even creepier. "I haven't even introduced myself. I'm Floch, nice to meet you!"

With the same crazy smile on his lips, he reached out and patted her shoulder. Petra winced, unable to move away from the undesired touch.

"What do you want from me?" she hissed, trying to hide the shaking in her voice. As discreetly as possible, she tried to loosen her restraints. In movies she watched with Erd, Gunter and Oluo, heroes always freed themselves so easily, the ropes being nothing more than a nuisance. But in reality, they didn't bulge an inch. Petra searched through her mind, trying to remember what characters from those movies did. Wiggle out of the restrains? Broke their wrists? Or was it applicable only for the handcuffs? Shit. She should have watched more movies like this, instead of melodramas and rom-coms. Shifting her attention back to the present, she stared up at her captor, still glaring at him defiantly.

"What do I want from you? The same thing I wanted from the others."

The same thing he wanted from the others? But the others were... dead. Petra suppressed a shiver.

"It's nothing personal, really,” he continued in the same careless manner. “All I need from you is to motivate your partner."

"Levi?" Petra gasped. "What it has to do with him?"

To her surprise, the man shrugged. "Nothing, really. In a way," he swept his hand across the room. "He's just a victim of circumstances. He's one of the best detectives in this city and he has a personal connection with Zeke. It'd be a shame not to use him."

"But why do you need him?" she pulled on the ropes, leaning closer towards the man and looking deep inside his eyes, trying to see right through him, trying to understand him. "Why can't you just kill Zeke and be done with it?"

The man tutted, shaking his head. "That's not what I—" there it was, that same pleased, creepy smile. "What we want to do. Taking Zeke's life would be too easy. We want to destroy it. But unfortunately," he continued in a voice of badly feigned sympathy. "You're not the main event here."

"Not the main event?" Petra echoed, confused. If it wasn't her, then....

"Not sure if you've met...” his eyes lightened up with something dark and dangerous. The smile on his face grew wider, more sinister. “But surely you've heard of one Hange Zoe?"

"Hah," a short chuckle escaped her lips. Very soon it turned into a full blown laughter. Petra would have clenched her sides if she wasn't tied up, she would have doubled over, hands on her knees and chest heaving, overcome with a sudden feat of giggles.

"What are you laughing at?" Floch inquired, the smile disappearing under a frown.

"You, of course," Petra answered, still breathless. "You're a bigger fool than I thought. To think that you can take on Hange Zoe..." of course, he had already gotten her, but Floch had taken her by surprise and she wasn't nearly as experienced and skilled as Hange. And even if they do somehow catch Hange... "Levi would never let you even get close to her. More than that," Petra raised her chin, a confident smirk pulling on her lips. "I'm sure he'll show up here so very soon. He'll save me and ruin your stupid plan. Then you'll be rotting in jail alongside your Zeke."

"We'll see about that," Floch promised through gritted teeth. "Wait a couple of hours, detective, and we'll see if your optimism would remain just as strong."

He gave her a furious look and then did a sharp turn, heading to the door.

“Enjoy your last hours. I’ll come to check up on you later.”

With that he had left, and Petra finally managed to breathe normally.

*** "Weren't you supposed to be good at this?" Levi dryly inquired. With a bored expression on his face, he was leaning against the wall, watching Oluo fiddle with a lock on the door to Sannes' office.

"I never said I was," Oluo grunted, wiping sweat from his forehead. His head darted from one side to other, checking if the hallway remained empty. "It's my first time breaking into someone's office, you know."

"Eh?" Levi frowned, confused. "Then how did you and Petra get in the other day?"

"I stole a key," Oluo huffed.

Levi rolled his eyes, pushing Oluo aside. "Let me handle it then. You go and stand on a lookout."

Oluo didn't need to be asked twice. He got his fair share of bullying from Levi today. With an annoyed but very quiet - he wasn’t so thrilled about receiving even more insults - sigh, he rose to his feet, going to do what Levi had requested of him. He didn’t even reach the end of a hallway, and Levi was calling out to him.

"Already?" his eyebrows went up. "You broke the lock so quickly? How?"

"Well," Levi shrugged and pushed the door open, sporting an almost smug expression. "Let's just say I wasn't always a law-abiding policeman."

"So cool..." Oluo whispered in reverence, as he followed Levi inside the office.

In Oluo's humble opinion and in comparison to a small cubicle he shared with Erd, Sannes' office was huge. A large desk, a wide bookshelf that took up most of the wall, a leather couch and a mini-fridge with a coffee machine and a microwave oven? If affiliating yourself with criminals meant you can have a workplace like this... Oluo wasn't that opposed to the idea anymore.

But they took Petra, he reminded himself. They were the bad guys, even if they were much richer and more successful than he could ever be. They certainly didn’t deserve any of it. And his job was to catch them. 

"So what should be our starting point?" he asked Levi.

"You could start with telling me what the fuck you are doing inside my damn office."

With heart in his throat, Oluo whirled around. As his eyes met Sannes' dark and furious ones, Oluo gulped, slowly taking a step back.

He chanced a glance at Levi and was surprised to see that he didn't look as scared and panicked as Oluo himself felt.

Quite the contrary.

"Sannes." he snarled.

With wide eyes and mouth open in shock, Oluo watched how Levi manhandled Sannes, a man, who was almost twice his size. He pushed him to the wall, fisting hands into his shirt.

"Where is Petra, you scumbag?" he hissed into his face. "Where are you holding her?"

“Let go of me, you freak!” Sannes shouted. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“Oh, but you do,” Levi’s voice dropped even lower, almost resembling a growl. “You know about everything – Zeke’s dealings, Petra’s kidnapping, Hange’s survival,” he pulled Sannes even closer. “So I repeat my question – where are you holding her?”

"I don't know!" Sannes wheezed out, already out of breath.

"Bullshit," Levi answered, his voice so dark and dangerous it made shivers run down Oluo's back. And he wasn’t the one Levi was talking to. He really didn’t envy Sannes right now. "You know it, and if you're not a complete idiot, you're going to tell me everything right fucking now."

Sannes looked down at him, his gaze calculating.  "If I tell you, do you promise not to reveal my connection with Zeke?"

"No,” Levi answered coolly, shaking Sannes once more. “But you're going to tell me anyway."

Sannes closed his eyes, breathing deeply through his nose. "Fine,” he said. “I'll tell you everything. Just let me go."

"Smart choice," Levi murmured and instantly took a step back.

Sannes sighed, running a shaky hand through his hair. "He's keeping her at the docks,” he mumbled, his face aimed at the ground. “I'll send you the exact location."

"Good," Levi nodded, much calmer now. "And after you do that, go straight to Erwin. If I were you, I wouldn't make him wait. Perhaps, he'd be more merciful then. Although,” he added, sending Sannes one last glare. “I doubt he actually would."

Levi turned on his heels then, walking out of the office. Oluo stayed behind for a second longer, a pressing need to ask Sannes a question arising in him.

"Petra?" his voice broke on her name, but Oluo willed himself to stand strong, looking up at Sannes without an ounce of fear. "Is she alright?"

"Dragged and unconscious," Sannes replied, rubbing the spot where Levi had grabbed him. "But she's unharmed. For now."

For now. Those two words made his knees buckle. They needed to hurry. Petra's life was on the line.

***

With sweat dripping down her face and completely out of breath, Hange finally reached Zeke's hideout.

Panting like a chain-smoker and with her leg muscles burning, she climbed all four sets of stairs, cursing Zeke all the while. Why couldn't he put his office on the first floor? Or next to a police precinct? Would have made her life so much easier.

As expected, Zeke was inside his meeting room, smoking. The fat rings of smoke were flowing around the room, flying just below the ceiling before dissipating into nothingness. Hange narrowed her eyes, squinting at the cigarette in his fingers. Could the cigarette from Petra’s apartment really belong to him? Perhaps, they should have run some tests on it… No, Hange shook her head. Zeke was innocent - at least, in that regard.

She looked around the room, nodding at Pieck and Porco, who, as usual, were sitting next to their boss.

"Ah, my dear Hange!" sweeping the ash from his cigarette, Zeke raised his hands, opening them in a welcoming gesture. "What brings you here? Already missed us?" he winked and Hange scoffed.

"Missed your ugly face?” she rolled her eyes. “Not in a million years."

Zeke shook his head, his gaze filling with disappointment. "Detective Ackerman has a terrible influence on your sense of humor," he complained, his expression turning sourer.

"Whatever," Hange fell down on a chair next to him. "I came to ask you for help. Petra is missing."

"Petra?" Zeke frowned, looking genuinely confused. The lost look inside his eyes cemented Hange's conclusion that he wasn't the one involved in her kidnapping. Zeke was sleazy and unreliable, but he was also a very bad liar. Well, that meant they managed to rule out one possible suspect…

"Yes, Petra. Levi's partner."

"Ah, he found a new one already?" Zeke spread his lips into a wide, self-contained smirk. "Not very loyal, is he?"

More loyal than you will ever be, Hange wanted to say, but stopped herself. Now was not the time to start a pointless squabble.

"Do you know something or not?" she demanded from him.

"I don't," Zeke answered, putting a cigarette to his lips and exhaling the smoke right in Hange's face. He knew how much she hated it, asshole. She waved the smoke away, scowling fiercely. "But I do know one thing," he turned to Porco. "The time has come, start packing."

Without asking for clarification, Porco nodded, thrusted hands into the pockets of his leather jacket and hurriedly left.

Hange watched him go, stunned. Was Zeke planning something? What could it be? Why didn’t she know about it?

There was only one way to find out. She surveyed Zeke’s face carefully, trying to see his motives reflected there.

"Packing? To where? What the hell are you talking about, Zeke?"

"Don't worry about our destination," he patted her hand, looking so condensing Hange had to clench her fists to stop herself from punching the bastard. "You're going with us after all."

"Like hell I will!" Hange threw his hands off, glaring at Zeke. "And you can’t seriously expect me to follow you. What does all of it mean?"

Zeke shrugged, lightening up another cigarette and taking a long drag. "It's the grand finale, Zoe. The dramatic climax, the thrilling last act. And I was never the one for theatrics. So I'll leave the stage and go on my way."

"You promised to help," Hange grunted. She couldn't believe it, she actually trusted the bastard, and now he tries to escape? She wouldn't let him. "Or did you lie to us?"

"I wasn't lying," Zeke scoffed. "Like I said, I don't enjoy the drama. I simply changed my mind."

"So you won't honor your promise?"

Zeke rolled his eyes. "Zoe, please. I'm a criminal. The word honor was never in my vocabulary."

"Fine," Hange huffed, blowing hair out of her face. The attempt to awaken his consciousness failed. Maybe, she could appeal to his ego instead… "But someone is targeting you. Don't you want to know who it is?"

"Not particularly,” Zeke shook his head. “Since they went through all that trouble just to get me, I'd rather we never meet. Lord knows what they're going to do then, and, unlike you, detective, I know what self-preservation means."

"So that's it? You're just going to leave?"

Hange couldn’t believe it. She knew Zeke was a scumbag, but goddamn it. She didn’t expect him to be that untrustworthy.

"Of course, I’m not going to just leave," Zeke smiled. "I'll take you with me. To make sure that no one is going to follow us."

Hange snorted. "You're that delusional? I told you already, I'd rather die than go anywhere with you."

"Be it as you wish," he said. "Pieck," he lazily outstretched his hand to her. "Make our dear detective cooperate. Do with her what you want, but make sure she won’t get in our way."

Hange turned to Pieck, her heart skipping a beat. She held her breath and tensed her muscles, anticipating her first move. She could take Pieck in a fight, in theory. But in reality, she came unarmed, and Pieck always carried a gun. And a couple of knifes.

And Hange wasn't sure that her wits were much sharper.

There was a bit, the air in the room growing stiff. Hange swallowed, her one eye narrowed, as she watched Pieck. Maybe, if she makes the first move—

"No." Pieck said suddenly.

For a moment, there was silence. Hange sat there, dumbfounded, staring at Pieck and feeling utterly lost. She didn’t mishear? Did Pieck really—

Next to her, Zeke seemed to have the exact same trouble. He blinked a few times and then his expression changed, turning into a look of betrayal and fury.

"What did you just say?" he snarled, baring teeth at her.

"No," Pieck repeated, staring straight at him, not swayed by his outburst. "I won't touch Hange, and you, Zeke, will go with her and surrender to the police."

"What do you think—"

"Stop it, Zeke," Pieck sighed tiredly. "Own up to your shit and stop running away. Do you really not get it? If you do this right now, whether you'll kill Hange or take her with you, this—" she gestured around, her gaze on Zeke hard and disappointed. "This running and hiding will never end. If you touch a hair on her head, detective Ackerman will get you even from underneath the Earth. Accept it, Zeke," she stood up and squeezed his shoulder. "You've lost that battle the moment you started it. You simply picked up the wrong opponents."

With slow, elegant steps Pieck approached Hange and bent down to leave a gentle kiss on her cheek. "Goodbye, Hange," she murmured, tucking a hair behind her ear. "It's been fun."

In spite of herself, Hange smiled. Sarcastic, adorable Pieck always had such an effect on her. "Are you leaving already?" she asked, touching a place where Pieck's lips met her skin.

"Well," Pieck grinned. "Pock had started packing, right?"

"And where are you going?" Zeke wondered, his lips pressed in a line and hands crossed at his chest. He stubbornly refused to even glance at Pieck.

"A secret," she chirped, smiling cheerfully. "But I'll make sure to send a postcard. Hange, I'll send yours to detective Ackerman's address?” she winked, chuckling at the sight of red color on Hange’s cheek. “And, Zeke? You'll be staying at the state prison, right?"

"Oh fuck off, Pieck," he groaned. "Go away already."

Their eyes met for a second, and Zeke's gaze softened ever so slightly. "Try not to get caught, will you?"

"Roger that, chief!" Pieck saluted, kissed Zeke too and then headed to the entrance, gliding on the floor and humming under her breath.

"You two should talk," she advised Hange and Zeke, and then quietly closed the door.

As soon as Pieck was gone, Zeke dropped his head on his hands, sighing in frustration.

"How the fuck do you do it, Zoe?" he sent her a side-glance. "How the fuck do you manage to inspire that kind of loyalty in people?"

Hange shrugged, sitting back in a chair, and curled her lips in a crooked grin. "Try not being a complete jerk, perhaps?"

"Fuck off," he retorted, hiding his face again. "You'll send me to jail, right?"

"R-right," Hange sang. "And before that, you'll help us looking for Petra."

"And if I refuse?"

"Initially, I planned to be the one organizing your arrest. But I can give that honor to Levi..."

Zeke visibly shuddered.

"Fine," he looked up, fixing the glasses on his face and brushing the hair back from his forehead. "I'll help you. Now get the hell out of here."

Hange arched an eyebrow. "You're coming with me, you know that?"

"I'll come," he huffed. "I promise. For real this time," he added, when Hange just kept giving him an unimpressed look. "Just give me half an hour to get all of my possessions in order, would you? I don't know if I'll be coming back after all."

"Half an hour." Hange nodded, looking at him strictly. "If you don't show up in half an hour, I'm sending Levi to get you."

She would have stayed behind and monitored him, but time was of the essence. She promised Levi she'd back in two hours. And the watch was telling her it was almost an hour past that. She needed to get back, and quickly. Hurrying out of the building, Hange rushed to the precinct.

But in her haste to get back to Levi, she didn't see a swift shadow that followed right after her.

***

One way, then the other, back and forth, left and right, Levi paced around the room.  

Seven. That was the amount of steps needed to get from one end of Erwin's office to the other.

Levi glanced out of the window, and then turned around, starting anew. He clenched and unclenched his fists, thinking if he should look at his phone again. Maybe, he missed a message? Didn't hear its ringing? Maybe, she had already replied to a dozen of his texts and calls?

"Levi," a heavy hand fell on his shoulder, making him stop in his tracks. "Levi, we can't wait any longer," again, Erwin's voice was so much gentler than usual, and that alone should have been enough for him to realize that he was being irrational. That, the eyes of a dozen other policemen, gathered in Erwin’s office, who looked at him with a mix of worry and sympathy.

"We have the location," Erwin reminded, bringing him back to present.

"I know."

"We have the team."

"I know."

"We have a plan."

"I know," Levi gritted through teeth. "But we do not have Hange!"

Frustrated, he turned away from Erwin. He took out his phone, holding it tightly.

Why didn't she call? Why didn't pick up the phone and answer his texts? Where the fuck was she? She promised to be back in two hours. Almost three passed and no sign of that messy, four-eyed brilliant weirdo. The knot in his stomach grew tighter with each passing second.

Logically, he knew Hange could be simply running late. She could be stuck in traffic or she could be busy trying to get some kind of useful information out of Zeke. But while Hange was never the one to care about such trite matters as punctuality and she could easily get absentminded and usually appeared to be scatterbrained and frivolous, she was so very different during the times like this. Times, when lives were on the line. Hange never let herself be so unfocused, that’s why Levi was so worried now. He was anxious, and he knew that feeling won't go away until he sets his eyes on Hange, alive, breathing and well. He just got her back, the thought of losing her… Levi cursed, checking the phone again.

"Levi..." Erwin sighed, patting his shoulder. "You know, we can't waste our time."

He knew that. Petra needed their help, needed him. He couldn't let her down, but still...

Hange, oh god, Hange. He couldn’t lose her. Not again.

"Perhaps, detective Zoe isn't going to come back," came a quiet murmur from the corner of the room.

Levi’s head whirled in that direction, and, in a flash, he was beside him. "What did you just say?" he demanded from Oluo, barely stopping himself from grabbing him just as forcefully as he had done with Sannes.  

Oluo swallowed, a trail of sweat rolling down his face, but he stared back at Levi, raising his chin.

"She was working with an enemy for more than two years. Maybe, she was the one who kidnapped Petra."

Levi closed his eyes, counting to ten in his head. He was not going to lose it right now. He was not. Not when Erwin - and a dozen other of his colleagues - were looking at him.

"Bozado," he began as calmly as he was able in that moment. "Do you trust me?"

"Of course, sir!" he answered without a moment of hesitation.

"Good," Levi nodded. "You trust me. And I trust Hange. With my life. And if you are at least half as smart as you're trying to appear, you'll trust her too. If you're not ready to,” his gaze grew harder, enabling Oluo from turning away. “Then get the fuck out of my team. If you doubt Hange, you doubt me, and I can’t work like that, I have to trust my people. So what do you say – are you leaving or staying?"

"I'm... I'm staying with you, sir."

"Alright," Levi watched Oluo’s face for another second, his eyes narrowed. Would he follow his orders without question? It seemed like he would. He hoped so, at least. With a low, thoughtful hum, Levi turned to Erwin. "We can start the operation. Bozado will lead my team."

He pointedly ignored the shocked gasp from Oluo. The boy wasn’t nearly as experienced, wasn’t even a detective, but their mission was to get back Petra. And Levi believed Oluo wouldn’t let himself fuck it all up.

It's obvious he has feelings for her, Hange once told him. She was right that time, but then again – when she wasn’t?

"And you, Levi?" Erwin asked.

"Half an hour," he promised. "Half an hour, and I'll be at the location."

Hange swore to come back to him. This time, Levi won't let her broke that promise.

Closing the door behind himself, he hurried to Zeke. He prayed that Hange was alright. Zeke wouldn’t get out of this alive, if she weren’t.

***

The silence pressed onto her. The silence, the waiting for god knows what - it was all making Petra go slowly insane. She wanted to hear something, any sound would do at this point.

Or so she thought.

But then Floch came back, sauntering inside and still sporting the same deranged grin, and Petra realized that she preferred silence so much more than the low, out of tune humming mixed with the sound of him polishing the various knifes taken from a long table in front of him.

She squirmed, the ropes digging into her skin even more. It would leave bruises, she thought absentmindedly.

Bruises? She chided herself almost immediately. Who would care about bruises if they find her dead? She suppressed another shiver.

They won't find her dead, Petra tried to persuade herself. They won't, because so very soon Levi would be here, and he'll save her. Perhaps, detective Hange would be with him, maybe, Oluo too...

She had friends who cared about her. They won't let her be murdered. She just had to keep believing in them.

"What are you waiting for?" she asked Floch, trying to distract herself from the thousand of horrible what ifs.

Why haven’t you— no, she wouldn’t ask him that. She would remain optimistic.

“You’ll see very soon,” he told her enigmatically. “My friend is almost here.”

His friend? Did he mean Zeke’s brother? The one, who had planned it all? And what would happen, when he comes? Would he—

No, she stopped herself once again. She needed to hold onto that hope. She needed to stay strong.

The sound of footsteps somewhere above her startled Petra. Hearing them too, Floch started chuckling. He turned to Petra, pressing a finger to his lips.

“That’s my friend,” he whispered quietly, as though it was the biggest secret in the world. “And he brought someone with him.”

The next second, the door opened and a man – so young, probably in his early twenties – stumbled in. He was hobbling slightly, his hand pressed to a place just below his hairline. His face was a mess – split lip, bruised eye that already started to turn deep purple, bloodied nose and forehead.

“You didn’t tell me she was a fucking psycho,” he grumbled, glaring daggers at Floch. “I wouldn’t have a chance, if I wasn’t armed.”

“But?” Floch passed him a white cloth to wipe off the blood. “You’ve caught her, right?” his voice was full of hope, and his fingers were trembling in anticipation.

“She’s in my car, dragged out of her mind. Help me get her here.”

“With pleasure,” Floch turned to Petra, winking. “You’ll have company so very soon, detective. I hope you’re excited! I am!”

He didn’t stop to hear her response, following after his friend and leaving her alone once again.

It was possibly her last chance, she realized. Petra desperately pulled on the ropes, trying to get away, but to no avail. She couldn’t move an inch, and it seemed like the more she struggled, the tighter her bindings became.

Not enough time passed, before Floch had returned, dragging a body inside. His friend put the chair, right next to Petra, and Floch dropped the body there.

No, not just some body, Petra realized. Fear crippled inside her, seizing her heart in its merciless hold.

Not just some body, Hange Zoe’s body.

Her head was bowed, but even from where she was sitting, in a poorly lit room, Petra could see blood dripping down her cheek and neck.

So much blood, she thought. She was breathing, albeit faintly. But she wasn’t waking up.

Her heart stopped, as Petra realized another thing – if Hange was there, no one was looking for her. And if no one was looking… then Hange and she… they would most probably… not be found.

At least, not alive, or so it seemed.

Petra tried to hold onto that sliver of hope, but with Hange Zoe’s bloodied face in her line of sight, it was getting increasingly harder and harder to.

[huntertales]

Part Two: It’s Wabbit Season. (Hunteri Heroici S08E08)

Episode Summary: Castiel tells the reader and the Winchesters that he’s decided to become a hunter like them. While the brothers are sold on the idea, they agree to investigate a case where a man’s heart literally burst through his chest. Meanwhile, the reader struggles to keep her pregnancy a secret as she tries to adapt to the symptoms and lifestyle changes she must make. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Word Count: 5,642.

Previous Part | Supernatural Rewrite Masterlist

Once was an accident, twice was a coincidence. But you didn't need to have a third body on your hands to realize something something strange was going on here. The four of you were leaving the Freleng’s house when Dean got a call from Detective Case about there being another recent death you might have been interested in checking out. That’s how you found yourself leaning over the edge of the building best as you could from where you stood with your arms crossed over your chest to try and keep yourself warm. The height and soft breeze that passed every so often made you feel freezing cold. And not to mention, facing such a steep drop made a shiver run down your spine in unrealistic fear. You hated being up so high.

Sam had one foot on the very edge of the building from where the victim took the swan dive and the other on the part where you stood, wanting to get a view for himself. You knew there really wasn't a chance Sam could get hurt while his footing straddled the edge of the building, but you still had your worries about luck. But you still let out a sigh of relief when the man step back to the part of the building where the rest of you were. You walked back over to the detective and Dean to discuss what happened here and why she felt the need to call you if it was just really a guy who jumped off his office building.

“Looks like suicide.” Sam said as shrugged his shoulders, not sure what else it could be.

“It was. Guy left a note.” The detective said, adding more evidence that this seemed like a open and shut case. “He invested everything in Roman Industries and lost it all when they crashed and burned last year.”

“So why call us?” You asked her, curious to get to the bottom of this.

“Because I have two witnesses who swear that Madoff here floated in midair for a good ten seconds, then he looked down, and splat.” Detective Case explained more details that seemed like the kind of stuff that you would be interested in. You raised your brow slightly from the witness reporting that did seem like your kind of thing. Sort of like how a guy's heart jumped out of his chest. It was just weird enough to be connected. "Not sure I buy that, but the way they're talking, it sounds like something straight out of a—"

“Cartoon.” Dean finished the detective’s thought.

“You said you wanted weird.” The detective said.

You smiled and thanked the detective before she was called over by another officer that needed her help. When she was a safe distance away across the building, the three of you started to discuss what this might have meant for the outcome of this case. You noticed Cas was coming forward after he had spent a few minutes standing at the edge of the building just staring off into the sight of the city. You turned your attention back over to Dean when he spoke up again.

“She’s right, you know.” Dean agreed with the detective. “I mean, the whole heart jumping out of the guy’s chest, the delayed fall—that’s straight-up Bugs Bunny.”

"So we're looking for some sort of insect-rabbit hybrid?" The angel wondered. You felt your lips stretching into a small smile at how he was taking this almost a little too literally. He had still so many things to learn about pop culture. "How do we kill it?”

“No, we don’t, Cas.” Sam said, chuckling to himself. “That’s a character, like, uh—like Woody Woodpecker or Daffy Duck.”

“They’re little animated movies. You know, uh, the coyote chases a roadrunner, and then the anvil gets dropped on his head.” Dean tried to explain to the angel about what they were.

The three of you found yourselves smiling at the faint memories of the hand drawn cartoons that dated back from the fifties and sixties. You remembered watching them on Saturday mornings in your pajamas and laughing at the dumbest anticis that were the same gags over and over again. Not to mention the crude and outdated humor that you didn't see anymore. But for a six year old they were the funniest things ever. Hell, you’d probably sit down and watch them again and still laugh at the same jokes. Cas, however, didn't understand the appeal for a bunch of adults your age. He thought cartoons were supposed to be for children.

"Is that supposed to be funny?" Cas asked.

"No." Dean said. His expression dropped into a serious one from the question. Cas stared at the hunter with a bit of confusion to why the three of you were laughing just a moment ago if they weren’t supposed to be comical. “It’s hilarious.”

You rolled your eyes from the older Winchester’s response, “I’m sure there’s some old reruns on TV or clips on YouTube I can find for you to watch. They are really funny.”

Cas still wasn’t sure what was so comically funny about an animated cartoon animal being put in physical harm to catch its prey to survive. You shook your head from his way of thinking and began heading for the exit, wanting to get off of this roof and back down on solid ground. Not only because the view above was starting to make you feel even more nervous, but you knew you were about to be up to your eyeballs in research to figure out what was making gags from cartoons come to life.

+ + +

When you got back to the motel you claimed your spot on one of the double beds as the boys took the table to try and conduct some research to figure out what was going on. Cas occupied his time by watching TV after you handed him the remote and told him to entertain himself. You tried wracking your brain to figure out what the hell could cause a guy's heart to leap out of his chest and for someone to float in the air for just a moment before falling to their death. All of it seemed like someone was playing by cartoon rules, but the question remained, who was doing it? You were trying to figure out the mystery, but there was only so much you could accomplish.

One of the downsides of forming a new life was they took almost every ounce of your energy as they created their internal organs. You also weren’t allowed have caffeine, either. Which was a big part of how you managed to stay up for long as you did without slumping over. It was hard to keep this little bundle of joy a secret from the boys. But you were trying your hardest while doing the proper steps to make sure they would come out healthy. And yet still pretending like everything was normal. You thought you could lay your head on the pillow and shut your eyes for five minutes. But it seemed that time slipped by and you woke up with it being darker outside than you remembered and hearing someone’s overly enthusiastic voice promising you they'd be back after this commercial break.

You rubbed the sleep from your eyes as you slowly began to come back around from the nap that you must have took without realizing it. Your laptop had a dead battery after you neglected to plug it in, the boys were still at the table hard at work and Cas was wrapping up watching the animated cartoons he'd been watching since arriving back to the motel. He turned off the TV, seeming to have watched enough of the little animations to understand why people loved them so much. You shut your laptop and threw it to the edge for safekeeping so you could sit up more properly in bed. Cas chuckled to himself, prompting you and the boys to look at him, unsure of what was so funny.

“I understand. The bird represents God. And coyote is man, endlessly chasing the divine, but yet never able to catch him. It’s…” Cas explained his understanding of the cartoon in a way that wasn’t meant of how they were supposed to be represented. You furrowed your brow slightly as the brothers stared at him with nothing but confusion of how he got that idea. “It’s hilarious.”

Dean didn't even bother to go more in depth with the angel's thinking. He was too tired and stressed from the lack of leads he could find. "I got no idea what we're hunting. Maybe it's a tulpa. Maybe it's some crazy god who watched too much 'Robot Chicken.'" Dean said, rubbing his eyes to get them to focus again after spending so long staring at his father’s journal. "I mean is there a link between 'Heartbreak Hotel' and 'Free Fallin'?"

"Not that I could find." Sam admitted.

“All right, well, I’m gonna call it.” Dean said. “Cas, are you gonna book a room or what?”

The angel went from watching TV to now taking it upon himself to start poking his nose into one of the Winchester’s belongings and tolities. It seemed he was fascinated with what humans had to do in order to keep themselves hygienically clean and healthy. "No, I'll stay here."

“Oh, okay. Yeah. We’ll have a slumber party and braid Y/N and Sam’s hair.” Dean sarcastically said, pretending to make a night of it. “Where are you gonna sleep?”

“I don’t sleep.” Cas said.

“Okay, well, I need my four hours, so…” Dean trailed off for a moment, hoping the angel would get the hint that he wanted some privacy for the rest of the night.

"I'll watch over you." Cas offered in the most caring and innocent tone of voice. Little did the angel realIze how creepy it sounded. You found yourself letting out a quiet laugh from his generosity the older Winchester quickly denied from the grim look that spread across his face.

You were about to offer for Cas to room with you tonight so the boys could have some privacy and a decent night's sleep, but before you could the angel was slowly rising to his feet. A look of concentration crossed his face as if he was listening in on a conversation going on in his head. He placed his fingers against his temple, you gave him a look of worry from what was going on.

“Something’s coming across the police band.” Cas said.

“Wait, you can hear that?” Sam asked the angel.

“It’s all waves.” Cas mumbled. He concentrated on the voices he was suddenly hearing and the crime that was being reported at this very moment. “A bank has been robbed. It sounds looney.”

You narrowed your eyes slightly, “Define ‘looney.”

+ + +

Cas said the call being reported to the police was about a man crushed to death from a two thousand pound anvil. Yeah, you’d define that as looney. And disgusting. You grimaced at the sight of blood and guts on the bank floor and about a foot from where you stood. You refused to get any closer than you had to. It was bad enough you felt tired and nauseous all the time. You weren’t going to lose what food was still digesting in your stomach to join the other bodily fluids on the ground. You crossed your arms over your chest as you looked over at the brothers, wondering if this was the kind of stuff they remembered from the cartoons. “That's loony, all right.” Sam agreed with the angel’s suspicions about this crime. “Agents. I was just about to give you a ring.” Detective Case called out. You looked over at the familiar law enforcement who you had seen at both previous crime scenes. It seemed she had her hands full of the unexplained. You greeted her with a small smile as she approached you and the boys, Cas was off in the distance, distracted with something at the desk. “Got to ask—do you guys chase the crazy, or does the crazy chase you?” “Depends on the day.” You replied. You nodded your head to the body that was reduced to a mess on the ground the four of you were surrounding. “Who's the pancake?” “Security guard. He called in reporting a robbery, but by the time we got here...” The detective trailed off, her eyes wandering to what remained of the guard. Sam repeated the crime that was committed here, it felt a little too clean for this to be a robbery. “Looks like the ‘Black Hole’ was trying to jimmy open a safe-deposit box when Mr. Rent-A-Cop found him. And, well...” You looked over to the side of the building where you noticed the vault containing valuables worth more than all of your lives combined together. A few forensic investigators were taking appeared to be a very literal black hole painted on the wall. Your brow furrowed slightly from what the hell was going on here. “you know how that story ends.” The detective said. “Black hole?” Cas asked, seeming interested in the nickname the “It's our name for a burglar that's been running us ragged. He's a pro—no fingerprints, never any sign of forced entry—just a pair of those every time...” The detective nodded her head to the large black hole that, with a bit of a further examination, looked like a decent size for someone to sneak in and out of, along with whatever he was trying to steal. “like he's signing his work. Perp's never done anything like this before, though...obviously.”

“You mind if I take a look at your files on those other break-ins?” Sam asked, the detective shrugged her shoulders in agreeance.

“No skin off my nose. I’m headed to the station now if you want a ride.” The detective offered.

The detective and Sam made their way to the exit, leaving you and Dean to examine more of the crime scene along with Cas. Your attention dwindled away from the shutting door that Sam slipped out of and back to the two thousand pound hunk of metal you were standing next to. While you wouldn't consider yourself a weak person, you had your doubts that you and the older Winchester could move this thing yourself. without hurting yourself, or just looking like an idiot. You looked up at him and raised your brow slightly, wondering how the hell you were going to do this. Dean had a plan, and it didn't even require you to lift a finger.

“Hey.” Dean said, getting the angel’s attention. “Can you lift this?”

Cas seemed a tad bit annoyed by the request, but he did it anyway. You stepped out of the way and let him work his magic, somehow moving two thousand pounds without even breaking a sweat over the puddle of human remains, letting the anvil clank to the floor. Out of caution, you glanced around the bank to see if anyone had seen what Cas had done, luckily, it was just the three of you. You looked back down at the exact spot where the security guard had stood right before his untimely death. You let out a noise when you saw something marked on the floor, and it looked to have been done in Sharpie.

“‘X’ marks the spot.” Dean mumbled. You and him found yourselves looking up at the ceiling to see there was no way possible this Black Hole perp could have lugged in a two thousand pound weight and hung it from the ceiling. But if someone where to mark the ground, then you had to take a wild guess that the anvil came out of thin air, crushing the unsuspecting guard before he realized what was coming. “Well, whoever’s doing this is playing by cartoon rules.”

“Animation doesn’t have rules.” Cas said. The angel might have watched a few episodes of cartoons, but he still didn't understand the universe and the rules it played by.

“Sure it does. In Toontown, a pretty girl can make your heart leap out of your chest. Anvils fall from the sky, and if you draw a door or a black hole on the wall,” You pointed to the painted black dot on the wall and began walking over to it to inspect it for yourself to see if it might still be radioactive for you. “You can stroll right through it.”

“So this is how the thief got in.” The angel suspected.

“And out. And cracked the vault.” Dean added.

Cas attempted to try and gain himself access through the black hole like the thief had. But when he placed his hand against the hole and pushed, all he felt was the wall. He tried a few more times before realizing that he had no way of getting through. "Then why isn't it working now?"

You knocked on the wall, hearing a solid thud echo off. Furrowing your brow, you placed your hands on your hips and let out a sigh from the lack of answers you could provide. “I have no idea.”

+ + +

The three of you headed back to the motel after learning what you could about the crime scene, despite it being a dead end and another dead body on your hands, which was just about what the police had. Dean retired back to his room to do a bit more research while you decided to call it quits for the night, blaming your tiredness on symptoms of your "approaching period" that he presumed was coming soon. Little did he realize that it wouldn't be coming this month, or the one after, and the one after that...You wanted to tell him the truth about why you really were calling it quits almost near midnight and you weren't downing coffee to keep yourself awake.

Part of the reason why you were so hesitant to tell Dean was the timing and privacy to break the news to him. You found out you were carrying after you got Kevin and Mrs. Tran to safety and Cas mysteriously came back from the dead, not to mention you and the boys picked up a hunt to keep yourselves busy. There was a lot going on right now. You couldn’t just pull Dean aside from everything and tell him the news. And you thought if you told him about your condition after the hunt he'd freak out for putting yourself in danger. But what if you told him during the hunt?

The urge came to you when you were standing in his motel room saying your final good night to him before you headed to bed and he was stuck doing research until the wee hours. You didn't know when you got a better chance. Sam was still at the station, Cas was already off in your motel room to give Dean some privacy. You opened your mouth to let the two words slip out of your mouth, but quick as the urge came, it also passed. You suddenly felt weird letting the truth slip out like that so easily. And beating around the bush would only make him nervous for what you had to say. How the hell do you tell your boyfriend that you were carrying his unborn child?

"Hey, remember that talk we had after the hunt where you almost got your heart ripped out by a nearly thousand year old God? You told me about how you got another girl pregnant and Sam had to kill your own child? Not to mention, we talked about how I wanted to have a family of our own? And how we had sex afterwards? Well...guess what? I’m pregnant!”

You weren't scared at the thought of Dean being a good father or not. He'd be the best that he he could be, and better than his own. You got a glimpse of parenthood when you and him took care of a shifter baby you named Bobby John after asked by its father that was disguised as a friendly looking older woman. And while it wasn't for more than a day, Dean didn't panic, he didn't ignore the baby and his needs. He was hands on and did what needed to be done. If it was a glimpse into the future, you felt confident. You were more afraid of how he was going to handle the news at first.

Dean’s idea of family was Sam, Bobby and you. His only best friend was an angel that just recently came back from purgatory without a memory of how he got back. Not to mention, all of you had been put in danger and died so many times. And you didn't think you ever met a hunter who had a family that didn't die bloody. You weren't asking for an apple pie life, just a safe one. Dean would come to terms with his new reality, whether he liked it or not. Just...not tonight.

You went back to your motel room with Cas occupying one of the beds as you went on with your nightly routine to get ready for bed. As you brushed your teeth and packed away your fed clothes after changing into some pajamas, Cas occupied his time by reading through John's journal to see he might find anything that could explain how reality was being shaped into a Saturday morning cartoon. You and the boys had read through the thing so many times you were surprised it wasn't falling it apart after all these years. You found yourself stopping in your routine for a moment to just observing the angel. For some reason you thought it was rather odd to see Cas sitting there, reading the rare thoughts and notes of John Winchester.

"It's amazing how every human has almost a distinct way of how they write. It's almost like a fingerprint." Cas spoke up for the first time since coming back. "John had beautiful handwriting."

"Mmm. It's unique. But a bitch to read when you're half-asleep and stressed up to your eyeballs." You said after you walked over to the bathroom sink and spit out the toothpaste. You rinsed the toothbrush underneath the faucet and put it back in its rightful spot so it wouldn't get dirty. As you headed out of the bathroom with your toiletries in your hand, you found your gaze slowly lingering back to the angel. "How are you feeling, Cas?"

The angel looked up from the journal as he turned to another page, he seemed content at the moment. "I'm fine."

"Well, I just—I know that when I got out of hell, and then the cage...and when Dean got out of purgatory, it took us a few weeks to get adjusted back into the swing of things." You eased your concern into the conversation as you stood where you were. Cas repeated himself, saying that he was just fine. You bit your bottom lip as you crossed your arms over your chest. “Don’t get me wrong, the boys and I are happy you’re back. Hell, I’m freaking thrilled. It’s just this whole mysterious-resurrection thing—it always has a fine line we want to ignore.”

Cas seemed to have figured out what you were trying to do. It was a simple move you pulled a thousand times with the Winchesters. You thought you could get him to open up about whatever that might have been bothering him. He shut the journal and looked at you. “So, what do you want me to do?”

“Maybe take a trip upstairs.” You proposed. Cas’ facial expression shifted when he realized you were talking about Heaven, the one place he was trying to get far away from. You shrugged your shoulders. “I know it’s not ideal. But they seem to know a hell of a lot. I mean, I don't think it would hurt if you poked your nose around, see if the God Squad can’t tell us how you got out.”  

Cas' answer was simple, "No."

"Look, Cas, I hate them much as you do, but—"

“Y/N! I said no!”

When the angel cut you off and snapped in a way you had never heard from him before, slowly you began to realize that you had hit a sensitive never in him. Your expression softened as you stopped pushing him to do something that he clearly wasn’t comfortable with. You walked over to the empty bed you claimed as yours and sat on the edge so you were across from him. You gave the angel your full undivided attention the way a friend does for someone who they loved was down. Cas had been there for you at your very worst, you felt it was time to return the favor.

“Talk to me.” You whispered to the angel. "Why can't you go back home?"

"Y/N, I..." Cas let out a heavy sigh. He placed the book on the bed and adjusted himself so he was facing forward so he could look at you directly in the eye. You gave him a concerned expression, showing him that you cared deeply for him. You wanted to help the best way that you could, because that's what friends did for each other. "When you were gone...I did things that I regret deeply to this very day. It’s partially the reason I wanted to stay in Purgatory.”

“The boys told me the jist of it.” You said, stopping him from cutting open old wounds to retell details that might make him feel more guilty than he should. "You ate a bunch of souls. Decided to take a walk on the wild side.”

“You don’t understand. It’s more complicated than you want to think. And I can’t lie. When I was bad...and I had all those things—the...the levianths writhing inside me..I caused a lot of suffering on earth, but I devastated Heaven.” Cas admitted the truth to you. You thought the situation was pretty bad while you were gone, but you didn’t take a second to think about Cas and the effects it had on him from his own actions. “I vaporized thousands of my own kind, and I-I-I can't go back.”

You let out a quiet breath, your mind drifting to his safety. You knew how his brothers and sisters acted. If any of them stepped out of line they never hesitated to smite their own kind. And after what Cas did, you thought surely they would have a bounty on his life. "'Cause if you do, the angels will kill you."

“Because if I see what heaven’s become—what I...what I made of it,” Cas let out a sigh, trailing off for a moment before saying something that even caught you off guard. “I’m afraid I might kill myself.”

You liked to think you and Cas had a different friendship from every other one that you had with the brothers, even Josh. It was because you and the him developed a bond while the world was falling apart. Cas was supposed to be a stone cold angel, you had your entire life tailored to be a demon puppet for Lucifer's enjoyment. Neither one of you did what you were told, you put your life on the line for the boys so many times to count. Yeah, you might have butted heads a few too many times over the years. but you did it plenty of times with Sam and Dean. But the thought of Cas doing something to end his life because of shame made your stomach twist into knots. You just got him back, there was no way in hell you were letting him out of your sight.

You felt it was your duty to tell him this feeling of...guilt, regret...things you very much felt after you got back from the cage would pass. Cas had been your shoulder to cry on at your very worst moments and pulled you back to the surface when you were ready to end it all in your own way. But your heart to heart was quickly cut short when you heard someone knocking on your motel room door. You looked over your shoulder in confusion at who it could be, and while you were choosing to ignore it, Cas took it upon himself to answer it. When you saw the door open, you let out a quiet sigh of annoyance when you saw that it was Sam.

“Hey. I got something.” Sam said. “Thought you guys might want to hear this.”

"Good. Excellent." Cas said. And just like that, it seemed your moment was over. Cas must have hung out with the boys too long while you were gone. Because he was acting an awful lot like them, shunning his emotions away. "We'll be right over."

You rolled your eyes and pushed yourself up to your feet, “This better be good, Sammy.”

The three of you headed to the brothers' motel room that was just a few doors down from yours. You trailed behind in your pajamas while Dean was still wearing his dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Sam loosened his tie, and Cas hadn't changed his look since the very first day you knew him. You stood next to the table with a slightly annoyed expression on your face and your arms crossed over your chest. You raised your brow slightly, wondering what kind of information was so important it couldn't wait until tomorrow morning.

“So this black-hole guy—before he tried the bank, he robbed a house across from the park where Gary blew a gasket.” Sam said.

“So, you think the house heist and Gary’s corpse are connected?” You asked.

“According to the file, they happened pretty much the exact same time. Here. Check this out.” Sam pulled out a map of Oklahoma City and laid out on the table. You noticed he circled three different locations, and inside three x marks. He pointed to one of the circles. “Here’s the house, and Gary died across the street here. And that building this morning—right there. The black hole hit that, too.”

“Let me guess—where, uh, what’s his name took a swan dive.” Dean took a wild guess. Sam nodded his head. You had to admit, you were growing intrigued with what the younger man had found. “All right. I’ll bite. What about the others?”

“Well, those are places that stuff got stolen. But nobody got dead. Take away the grafiti, and these all look like just normal smash-and-grabs. But I made a few phone calls, talked to some people who are nearby—neighbors and whatnot—and they reported a whole lot of crazy.” Sam explained to the three of you. He pulled out a case file from what he took from the station for you to look at first.

“Like?” You asked, glancing up from the crime scene photos, wondering what he meant by that.

“Like a jogger bumping his head and sprouting a four-inch lump or a kid walking into a wall and hearing birdies” Sam said. You raised your brow slightly in curiosity. “Basically, for fifty yards around each robbery, people were living in a cartoon. But it didn’t last long—I mean, five, ten minutes at each place.”

“About the length of time it would take a thief to get in and out.” Cas said.

“Exactly. But whatever power he’s using, it’s not targeted. I mean, it’s kind of like an area of effect.” Sam said, trying to give you a visual of what was going on. “I mean, picture him a bubble of weird,and anything that touches it gets daffy.”

“So this animanic can step through walls, can toss an anvil?” You asked.

“Yeah, but he’s warping reality to do it.” Sam said. The actions of the perp had consequences and rules from the cartoon reality. “So if someone happens to be nearby meeting the girl of his dreams…”

“His heart makes a break for it.” Dean guessed. Sam nodded his head, that’s exactly what was going on. And explained how Gary Freleng’s heart jumped ten feet out of his chest. “Okay, so smashing the rent-a-cop—that was on purpose, but the rest of them—what, is that just a collateral weird?”

Sam shrugged, “Maybe.”

“So we’re looking for a thief.” Cas took an educated guess.

"And the deposit box he was after. Now, the house, the office—every place he's hit belonged to someone living at the sunset fields retirement home." Sam said. He pulled out another file from the belongings he borrowed from the station. Well, at least you had a lead of where to look.

“So you think our guy’s there.” You wondered.

“Worth a shot.” Sam said.

“All right. Well, let’s gear up. It’s wabbit season.” Dean said, clapping his hands as he uttered the famous words from a cartoon character you remembered fondly. You grew a smile as you let out a chuckle of amusement. As you rubbed your eyes and got ready to tell Cas to start heading back to the room with you, you dropped your hands back down to your side from what you heard him say.

“I don’t think you pronounced that correctly.” Cas mumbled to the older Winchester, thinking he might be a good friend and correct the man's pronunciation.

"Let's go, Cas." You said. "I think you need to watch a few more cartoons, doc."

The angel was about to say that he wasn’t a doctor, not sure why you called him that. You rolled your eyes and shook your head in annoyance. You headed back to your room and crawled into bed, hoping to get a few hours of sleep before tomorrow and its shenanigans would bring.

[Next Part]

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[frankcastled]

So, as someone who has a lot of time on their hands, I’ve gone ahead and done very precise trailer breakdowns of two trailers from each of the past four MCU films (Guardians of the Galaxy, Vol. 2, Spider-Man: Homecoming, Thor: Ragnarok, & Black Panther) because I started making a post earlier about how, when you look at a lot of these trailers, most of what they show you takes place in the first half of the movie and given that logic, a lot of the stuff we’ve seen in these Infinity War trailers are probably mostly from the first half of the movie with none, if any, hints to what lies in the finale. 

So, I had this long feature about breaking down the trailers here, but I realized, I’m here to break down the Infinity War trailers, not pick apart trailers for movies that we’ve seen, but I did learn that most of the scenes featured in trailers are, in fact, part of the first third or half of the movie, which I think is important to look at. And while you can look at my trailer breakdowns and see how there’s some that seem to heavily feature scenes from their respective final battles, most of the scenes featured are such quick cuts with little to no context that connects them, it’s almost impossible to really tell and they end up taking up less time of the final trailer because, again, they’re such quick cuts and shots. But for each of the trailer breakdowns, if you’re curious, you can find them here:

Guardians of the Galaxy, Vol. 2

Spider-Man: Homecoming

Thor: Ragnarok

Black Panther

And here we go! Finally, at long last, the Infinity War trailers!!!!

So first off, for reference, here is my breakdown for both the official, two minute trailer, and the thirty second Superbowl spot. You can read through it all there, most of it is just a literal breakdown of the scenes all the way from observations of who’s in it to what they’re doing, and the background and any other tiny, discernible details with my thoughts interspersed. What I’ll do here is mostly reorganize my bullet points into a more cohesive state as well as adding any other observations, such as the fact that there’s a lot of weird little orange glows featured throughout (but then again, they could just be from fires and explosions happening offscreen and could have nothing to do with the soul stone). 

So, from what I can figure out there are maybe three to four major scenes being showcased here between these two trailers (with other, random unrelated scenes used to showcase characters as opposed to revealing any kind of plot point). 

1. New York City. We have Peter Parker on the bus look at the circular, hovering contraption and we later see him on it. At the same time, we have Tony, Bruce, Doctor Stranger and Wong, also in New York City, assuming that the scenes we see are taking place in and/or around the Sanctum in NYC that we see Strange take residence up at the end of his solo film. Also, I assume that the scenes of Peter Parker and then the scenes at Tony, Doctor Strange and co are happening simultaneously, or rather they are reacting to the same event. All stuff that could have been put together, on top of which, in the Superbowl cut, we get the scene of Peter, Tony and Strange together in a place that is clearly not the city, but somewhere else, possibly in space, which then leads to--

2. The scenes of Thanos, Peter and Tony in space. These scenes probably lead into one another with other filler stuff happening in between, of course. There was also the footage from the SDCC that while we don’t have that to really break down and analyze fully, did have a scene of Strange on a planet of some sort, which again, would mean Strange was also involved in that scene. 

3. Wakanda. This one was the always the most obvious one. The only other little thing that I did notice, is that you also have Hulk featured in these Wakanda scenes and even the Hulkbuster, which a lot of people have already deduced, is probably being used by Banner and not Stark. At which point, he probably turns into Hulk as we later see featured in that nice little slow-mo team-up. You also have War Machine here, which means that either Tony sends Rhodey out at the request of back-up by Steve or maybe Steve gets to him directly. Obviously there are a lot of little holes that need to be filled that we’re not too clear on yet. On top of which Vision and Wanda are missing in these scenes, yet we do gets shots of them with Steve and Natasha in the Superbowl trailer, with Vision missing his mind stone, so it’s possibly they join them later, after that Wakandan battle withe the Outriders?

4. And then there’s the Guardians and Thor, who have not been featured quite as heavily but we do see them here and there. My guess is obviously, that they’re in space and split up. You have one shot of Star-Lord, Gamora, Mantis and Drax (notably missing Teen Groot and Rocket) and then another separate shot of Teen Groot and Rocket with Thor. Eventually the adults somehow find or team up with Tony, Strange, and Spider-Man, as again in the SDCC footage, we have Strange creating platforms with his magic which allegedly Star-Lord uses to jump up on while in his gear and using his guns, possibly in a preliminary battle against Thanos. The same battle we see featured when he slams Peter Parker into the ground and punches Tony Stark. I also think the adult Guardians, head off to find the collector (possibly knowing about some vague plan for Thanos to collect the Infinity Stones) because Thor told them about the Aether being left with him, so they head to investigate while Thor and Groot and Rocket do something else (build a new weapon, according to the internet, but there’s not enough evidence from the trailers for me to commit to this). And then the adult Guardians possibly find or run into Tony and co, possibly because they run into Thanos first when they’re by the collector’s (I only mention this at all, because I did download that leaked and unfinished footage of the Guardians watching as Thanos (pre-CGI Josh Brolin in the clip) is confronting the collector). And although the trailers did not feature him with the aether in Thanos’ possession at all, that could be because he lost it during the explosion the power stone caused in Guardians 1. After all, as of the end of Guardians, his place was still a wrecked and who knows if no one came along and stole things from him. I’ve never been convinced he really even still has the aether, personally. It was too big of a mess for me to ever feel like nothing happened there. On top of which, since we know he has the power stone, he clearly stopped by Xandar (perhaps the reason they know about Thanos’ plan to collect the stones, Nova Corp might have informed them of the theft) and then gets the space stone from Loki simply handing it off (nope, no matter what you might think, Loki is complicit and does it because he’s Loki and not out of any reason to help or save Thor, I believe the Russo brothers have confirmed he willingly sides with Thanos, after all, we pretty much see him working for Thanos in The Avengers, so, and I know a lot of people will fight me because they hate Joss Whedon, but regardless of what you think, the one thing these movies have going for them is continuity). And as far as I can tell, Strange has the time stone (or the eye of agamotto, at least) around his neck still at all points in the trailer. And of course, we see the mind stone pilfered, which then leaves the aether and soul stone as not being featured with their whereabouts unknown. 

EDIT: Okay, I just rewatched that leaked scene of Thanos confronting the collector, and yep, Thanos is definitely there to get the Reality stone. He directly mentions it and the collector says he doesn’t have it, playing it off and saying he sold it. However, Thanos counters that this is a lie and tries to get it out of the collector whereas the collector then claims he didn’t know what it was worth. Thanos says the collector is stupider than he, Thanos, thought. And as the Guardians creep in, if they’re at the collectors lair or house or whatever, it looks destroyed, to which I’m assuming Thanos fucked shit up before directly trying to confront him, or tried to confront him first, then got physical and fucked shit up. So either, the collector does have it and is not giving it up, or he did lose it or give it to someone else, but is protecting them as he does not give up a name or identity when he claims he sold it and even claims he doesn’t know where the stone is. ANYWAY, just needed to add this tidbit in there because it gives A LOT of insight, especially if you never saw this scene when it made the rounds. 

Anyway, I think most of this was already pretty much sorted by people who decided to do this kind of thing as soon as the trailers were released and not wait months afterwards, but my interest was less about doing that picking apart and more about trying to line up scenes into a more cohesive story as well as figure out what might be from the end of the film as opposed to what ends up being in the first half of the film. From what I can see most of this probably comes from the beginning to the middle of the movie, with even the Wakandan battle scene possibly being a showdown from the middle, because I like to think that since it was so heavily featured, it’s not really what’s to come in the end, but an intermediate battle that leads to a much larger one, possibly in Wakanda again, or elsewhere. But at the same time, with another and as of yet untitled fourth movie, it’s hard to say exactly what this movie will cover and if any of the storylines will be tied up or if they’ll continue it in Avengers 4 to make one long movie. 

Anyway, the hour is 2 hours and 26 minutes long, and I nearly had an aneurysm while driving home. I. Am. So. Fucking. Hyped. 

[preserving-ferretbrain]

Next to Normal is Better than Awesome

by Melissa G.

Friday, 09 October 2009

Melissa makes us wish we were in New York in her review of the musical Next To Normal.

Oooh! This is in the Axis of Awesome!~

So I have to admit that I have been somewhat underwhelmed by most of the shows that have come to Broadway in recent years. Every time another movie or band or music genre was given its own show on the Great White Way, the part of me that graduated a theater major died inside. Legally Blond the Musicalwas my breaking point, and I lost my faith in Broadway shows. Which is why I haven’t gone to see a show on Broadway in quite some time.

But yesterday, my friend’s mother sent us out on a mission to go see a Broadway show – you know, for culture – and being somewhat cheap, we went to TKTS in Times Square to find ourselves some tickets. There wasn’t much to offer sadly, but we decided on a musical called Next to Normal which my brother had heard was good. They had really good seats available for it – first row center mezzanine – and they were cheaper tickets than our second choice so off we went.

We knew going in that this musical would probably depress us. My brother said it was a contemporary musical about a dysfunctional family, and something about electro-shock therapy. So this wasn’t necessarily going to be a fun time romp at the theater. While it did make both of us cry in public – and a lot of others in the theater by the look of it – it also had a dark comedy and humor to it that kept it from being overly maudlin. And there was a note of hope at the end so you don’t leave the theater wallowing in sorrow and suicidal thoughts.

It’s hard to talk about the show without giving away its best twist, which comes somewhat early – about 8 songs or 15 minutes in. I should mention that this is the kind of musical where the characters are singing more than they’re talking, and some of the musical moments are so phenomenal, I felt myself reacting physically by smiling or sitting up in my seat. So let me see if I can give a non-spoiler synopsis. The play centers around Diana (the mother), Dan (the father), Natalie (the daughter), Gabe (the son), Henry (Natalie’s boyfriend), and the two doctors that treat Diana. All of the family members have their own problems: Diana is bi-polar and delusional, Dan is trying to hold his family together despite all odds, Natalie is stressed and feels invisible in the shadow of her brother, and Gabe is a problem just by being around. You really feel for all the characters equally; there is no bad guy or good guy. Even the doctor(s) are obviously just trying to do all they can to help their patient and using the resources available to them.

The plot basically revolves around Diana and her attempts to recover/cure her illness. Our first hint that something is a bit off with her comes at the end of the first song when she begins making sandwiches on the floor. This follows with a visit to the doctor and a song about pills that was really rather fantastic. It humorously investigates the shortcomings of psychopharmacology, but you are still aware of how serious this woman’s issues are.

The romance between Natalie and Henry is genuinely heartwarming and heartbreaking, and even though a skeptic of high school romances lasting, like myself, might not believe they’ll be together forever, it’s still touching to see their relationship struggle and repair itself through the show.

It’s hard to explain the really touching, fabulous moments of the show without giving things away, but let’s just say that Diana’s delusion is given a physical form so that it can interact with her on stage and, at times, influence other characters. It’s really well done. There are songs where her husband or the doctor is trying to reason with her, and she is caught between the delusion and the reality, trying to decide who she wants to be with. There’s a line the delusion sings where he says, “Until you name me, you can’t tame me.” And when Diana leaves, her husband is left alone with the delusion who then starts to speak to him, and after resisting, Dan names the delusion, and it seems like maybe the curse over the house may truly be broken.

The staging was also really interesting. The stage was built with three levels each representing a level of their house. At the end, they have a powerful final image of the cast members forming a sort of pyramid on the stage with Gabe alone on the roof, Diana and the doctor on the second level, and Natalie, Dan, and Henry on the ground level all singing the final song. The band was also on stage and was split into four sections tucked away in the corners of the second and third tier. They also used images of Diana’s eyes as a set piece and those were worked very interestingly into the set. There was a moment when the eyes were placed within the windows of the house.

I loved the show, and I highly recommend it. It’s playing in NYC right now so if you live in the area, GO SEE IT. If you can’t get to New York, look for it when/if it comes to your area. It was phenomenal. I want more shows like this on Broadway! It’s clever, touching, funny, and the music is great. It won two Tonys, and I am not at all surprised.Themes:

Theatre

~

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Jamie Johnston

at 17:53 on 2009-10-09

... about 8 songs or 15 minutes in

Wow, those are some short songs! (Which is in itself an encouraging difference from a lot of current musicals.)

It's great to hear that there's at least one good original new musical happening. I'll look for it when it comes to London. Can you say anything about the style of the music itself?

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Sister Magpie

at 04:22 on 2009-10-10At first the subject matter of this didn't interest me, but I keep hearing good things about it. I may have to check it out!

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Melissa G.

at 04:23 on 2009-10-10The music style is very contemporary/rockish. There was a variety of instruments from classical piano to electric guitar.

I guess the songs are rather short, comparatively at least. Which, yeah, is kind of nice. It also uses a lot of reprisals, which seem well-planned out rather than lazy. ^^

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Wardog

at 11:38 on 2009-10-16I am sad I am not in New York - I would love to see this. It sounds awesome.

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Melissa G.

at 17:30 on 2009-10-16Hopefully it'll make it out to England and the West Coast eventually. I certainly hope so!

[imyourliquor-youremypoison]

Great Minds Think Alike (Riverdale - Jughead x OC) Part 3

Pairing : Jughead x OC

Synopsis : A new girl arrives in town around the time of Jason Blossom’s accident. That alone makes her suspicious and unlikeable to most people. Jughead has every reason to investigate on her, the timing is too perfect, right? And it has nothing to do with the young girl’s odd yet charming way of always seeming to find her way back to him, no matter the situation.  

Word Count : 2.9k

MASTERLIST

Part 2 <<< >>> Part 4

It happened so gradually that neither of them realized they were becoming friends until they actually were. At some point, Iris was already there when Jughead came to Pop's, she sometimes ordered fries and onion rings and she shared them with him as if it was the most natural thing to do. They liked to dip them in vanilla milkshake and Jughead ate the cherry on top while Iris ate the whipped cream. They no longer wrote all the time and ended up spending entire evenings doing nothing but dipping fries in the vanilla shake and talking, sharing far-fetched theories about Jason Blossom's death or discussing literature and Tarantino movies.

Jughead kept using dry humor to drag her when things became a little too intimate or when a conversation made him uncomfortable. Iris could take a hint and tried not to talk about these again – the first time, it was about his family. It was three weeks after they first met. She stord it I the touchy subjects drawer in her head and never mentioned it again, despite her curiosity. Everything about him stung her curiosity though, she couldn't help it.

After so many hours spent in his company, she began to form a clearer imagine of his persona. He was obviously trying to create a certain image with his sardonic humor and dark clothes, he wanted to the perceived a certain way by other people, but all the information she managed to gather about him was that he was a gigantic movie buff, a classic literature nerd and that he would sell his soul for a white peach milkshake.

He was pretty cute too when he stopped acting like a grump and smiled every so often. It made such a difference when he smiled, but she rarely got to see it first hand. One day though, he did grin from ear to ear, just for her, and the picture was engraved in her mind. It was a normal day. She wanted to come early to Pop's but Jughead was already there when she walked in.

He made a little hand gesture to say hi and deleted something he just wrote, unhappy with how it sounded. He had downed three cups of coffee and barely got any shut eye that night, as proved by the circles under his eyes. Iris sat down next to him. Not across from him. Next to him.

“What are you doing?” Jughead asked, raising his head and staring at her like she had grown a third eye in the middle of the forehead.

He instinctively pulled back a little as he was taken by surprise when she simply sat down so close to him, not even bothered by the sudden proximity. They had never been this close before, they usually kept a polite distance, even if most of the time, they leaned over the table and shared their theories in a hushed, excited tone.

She was grinning like the Cheshire Cat - which couldn't be a good sign, right?

“I have something to show you,” she declared proudly, her smile widening a little more.

Jughead noticed there was a thin red gash on her cheek. The kind of wound you got when someone wearing a ring slapped you across the face, or when a small branch whipped you.

“You're bleeding,” he said in response, effectively making Iris' smile drop.

“What?!” Her hand flew to her nose, thinking she had a nosebleed.

“No, not there. On your cheek,” Jughead took a tissue and applied it to the gash before letting her hold it in place.

“Oh thank,” she said. “Anyway, as I was saying, I have something to show you.”

“Now?” He groaned, his eyes drifting toward his laptop and cup of coffee.

“Yes now!” She rolled her eyes at him. “I would've told you sooner but I have to way of contacting you!”

“Before you drag me out of my temple of solitude I have questions,” Jughead sighed. “First, what is it that's so urgent that I cannot finish my coffee? And second, why are you dressed like a lumberjack?”

Iris' jaw fell down and she looked at her clothes, frowning a bit. She wore a blue and green flannel, jean shorts and leather boots. Yeah, right, maybe it was a bit lumberjackish, but who was he to criticize?

“And look who's talking, the moody broody author wearing fifty shades of different blacks and drinking coffee like it's water – is there whiskey in this, Hemingway?” Iris sassed him, pointing at the half finished cup of coffee.

“Actually whiskey's more of a Bukowski thing,” he corrected her, earning a stern glare.

“Beside the point,” she replied. “I'll tell you what I found on our way there, now come! Get off your ass!” She gestured him to gather his things and hurry up and stood up to let him out of the booth.

Jughead put his stuff in his laptop bag and followed her – not without complaining a little, purely for her heck of it, and also because she was an adorable kind of angry person. He was puzzled to see her hop in a pickup when they reached the parking lot but he didn't show it and simply followed her inside. As soon as he was inside, Jughead began to look around as if he were looking for something.

“What are you doing, Jug?” Iris asked as she drove out of Pop's parking lot.

“Your ax,” he said and Iris snorted at  that.

“Go ahead, make fun of my car,” she said. “At least I have one!”

“Tell me where we're going and I'll stop poking your for being a lumberjack,” Jughead bargained.

“I'm taking you to my cabin in the woods, where I store all of my axes,” Iris answered, giving him a wide sarcastic smile.

“Telling your future victim you're about to murder them in the woods is not a good murder strategy if you want my opinion,” he told her, even though she did not ask for it. “I could jump out of the car any moment.”

Iris detached her eyes from the empty road to give him a condescending glance and roll her eyes at Jughead's dramatic behavior.

“And risk scratching up your pretty face? You won't do it, you love yourself too much”, she laughed teasingly. “I'm taking you to the river.”

“Where you murdered Jason Blossom in cold blood out of sheer rage for being torn away from your home city?” Jughead suggested.

He hadn't realized the car had come to a stop before Iris turned her entire upper body towards him, letting go of the steering wheel.

“Jug- are you babbling because you're nervous?” She asked him, nudging him a little. He didn't answer but gave her an embarrassed smile. “Be serious for a second. I found something that you'll want to see for yourself. It's for your novel.”

“No murdering me?”

“I'm not murdering my only friend here!” Iris reasoned, opening the door and getting out of the car.

He wanted to ask her if she would have considered murdering him if she had made more friends during her stay so far, but he had a strong inkling that she would end up murdering him anyway if he kept pushing her buttons like that.

“What were you going in the woods in the first place?” He asked as he followed her through the tress.

Iris parked her car along the road, as close from the place she wanted to take Jughead as she could, since she hardly had any marks here. They would just walk until they reached it.

“I was taking a walk, I like to explore a bit,” she said, climbing over a big rock. “The sunrise from the edge of the river is pretty darn stunning.”

“The sunrise?” Jughead repeated. “The sun rises at six in the morning!”

“I know that, Einstein,” she laughed. “Watch out, there's a-”

But it was too late and a branch smack Jughead in the face, cutting a little gash on his cheek too and making him stumble back. Iris was too caught up in her burst of laughter to help him up after Jug fell to the ground. When she finally calmed down, there were little tears in her eyes and she reached out to give him a hand and help him get back on his feet.

“Now we match,” she said with a wink. “Open your eyes and be careful now!”

“Wait, wait, you're making me trudge on uneven ground for a mysterious reason, at least give me some kind of context,” he demanded, catching up on her and holding down a leafy branch for her to climb over a stump.

“There's not much to say, I like to take early morning walks and I ended up at the river- I think we're almost there, I recognize this tree,” she said, pointing at an ordinary looking oak.

Jughead didn't tell her that this tree looked exactly like every other tree to him and merely nodded and followed her, silently wondering why he was complaining so little about being brought here at twilight by this strange girl he befriended a few weeks ago.

“Here!” She exclaimed excitedly pointing at a lonely tree on the river's edge, next to a sharp ravine made of rocks that ended up in the river.

Iris grabbed Jughead forearm and led him to the tree as though it was a treasure chest and not some old chuck of dying wood. He didn't protest although he usually wasn't much of a touchy person and would rather keep his distance with other people, but Iris seemed to happy of her discovery that he didn't have it in him to disappoint her and rip his arm out of her grip. Also, it wasn't half as terrible as he thought to have her warm palm against his skin.

“Here,” she said again, pointing at a more specific part of the tree now that they both stood before it.

Jughead sucked in a breath when he saw what she wanted to show him.

“You said there was a gunshot at the time of Jason's accident, right? Could this be-”

“-the bullet that was shot that morning,” Jughead finished for her, answering her question.

He couldn't rip his gaze from the small piece of metal stuck in the wood, and wondered how the hell this escaped the police's attention.

“Did you tell anyone else? The Sheriff?” He questioned her, eventually turning around to meet an Iris with sparking eyes.

She was still holding onto his forearm, and Jughead realized that it didn't bother him when it was her. Iris shook her head no.

“I wanted to tell you first, before they could- you know- destroy evidence or whatever. I'm not a big fan of crime drama series.” She cleared her throat and let go of him. “But I was going to call them once you're done here.”

Jughead let out a funny laugh and threw his hands in the air, making Iris step back and give him a 'wtf' look. He brought his hands each side of her head without actually touching her and balled them into fists before stretching his fingers again a couple times, looking like he couldn't find the right words – which was a telltale sign of how excited he was.

“Oh Iris- I could kiss you right now!” He finally said, turning back to the tree then to her.

“Please don't do that,” she told him, pursing her lips and shaking her head.

“Wait, hold this!”

Jughead handed her his bag and once he had set it in her arms, he opened it and dug out an impressive camera. Then he began to take pictures of the bullet hole under every angle. For a while that's all he did, then he tried to find where the shooter must have been standing to hit that tree and wandered off in the bushes and between the trees for about fifteen minutes – until it began to be too dark to see.

“Hey Jug!” Iris called him and he walked a few steps backwards to stand in her line of sight. “Care to relieve me of your bag? It's getting heavy and I'm not staying here forever.”

He smirked and strutted back toward her, grabbing the laptop bag from her tired arms and putting away his precious camera.

“Had your fun?” She asked, giving him a lopsided smile and gesturing him to follow her. “Now it's my turn. We're watching the sunset.”

“See, that's the kind of thing I'd rather avoid in my novel,” Jughead commented yet did as she asked.

“What? Nice, cozy moments?” She asked.

“Clichés,” he replied. “But yeah, it's probably nice.

“You'll just have to leave this part of the story out of your novel then. The bonding time is irrelevant for a realistic crime novel, huh?” Iris chuckled, sitting down on the rocks and placing her elbows on her raised knees.

It was a shame, he thought. It was the best part in real life and yet it was considered boring in a novel to have but two characters talk and share stories and laughs.

“Can I ask you something?” Jughead found himself saying, to break the silence.

“Shoot,” Iris replied with a smirk, watching Jughead squint his eyes at her for the pun.

“I'm not your only friend, that's not possible. I mean here maybe, but you still talk to your friends from Chicago, right?”

He didn't even know why he cared but the very idea of this sociable, outgoing and fearless girl not having anyone else to talk to but his brooding ass was too sad to handle. She must have other people in her life. Iris couldn't just hang out on her own in the woods before dawn and stay with him in an empty 50's diner every night, only to avoid going back home. Jug knew that he has only known her for so long and there were plenty of things he didn't know about her, but what could be so wrong about her to result in such loneliness? Why did he like her company so much? Because he could relate to her situation?

“No,” she answered flatly. “For various reasons, none of them tried to contact me in over two months now. I argued with my best friend before leaving, some of my other friends are spoiled brats who are too busy sunbathing in the Hamptons to care about poor little me, and the others must have forgotten or replaced me already. Nobody's irreplaceable.”

“My nihilistic nature tends to agree with you, but my poetic soul wants to argue that anyone who's had the pleasure to meet you must have had a hard time replacing you,” Jughead said, feeling a little awkward about throwing out a heartfelt compliment.

The sun's rays bathed everything in a dim red and orange light – thank goodness, otherwise he would have seen her blush.

“But don't let this go to your head, you're still annoying the hell out of me most of the time.”

“Oh don't act like you're not enjoying my annoying self, you'd die of boredom without me!” Iris laughed, elbowing him slightly. She checked her phone to see what time it was. “I called the cops while you were on your scavenger hunt for clues. They'll be there soon, so if you want to leave it's now or never,” she told him.

“I thought my bag was bothering you,” Jug said.

“I have two hands Jug,” Iris chuckled and waved her hands to illustrate her words.

“What are we telling them?” He asked.

“That I dragged you here because I had this silly idea about watching the sunset?” She simply suggested. “It's close enough to the truth to be convincing.”

“Or you can leave and I'll stay here and talk to the police,” Jughead said after a minute of contemplative silence.

Iris gave him a confused frown and he explained himself.

“You know school starts next week? You'll not only be the new girl who coincidentally moved in right before the star quarterback went missing, but also the girl who found a bullet hole in a random tree in the middle of the woods. You'll be a pariah before second period.”

“And here goes my promising career of cheerleader,” Iris let out in a fake disappointed sigh. “How defeatist of me would it be if I told you that I don't care? I'm relatively tired of fake people who turn their back on their friends as soon as there's a little problem. If I'm gonna make friends, let it be because of who I am and not in spite of it.”

“And who are you, Iris Graham?” Jughead asked, mentally taking notes of her little speech for later pondering.

She smiled, and while they saw the artificial light of flashlights approach from the corner of their eye, she said something that Jughead would never forget.

“The thrill's in finding out, not knowing.”

A/N: If you feel like this deserves a review please leave one, bc i’m a needy little shit and i need all the Validation i can get

TAGS: @deanackles67 @bathshebaa

[briangroth27]

Sherlock: Series 4 Review

Full Spoilers...

Sherlock series 4 was a strong outing overall, though there were a few missteps that kept it from continuing the excellence of their standalone episode from between seasons 3 and 4, The Abominable Bride. Benedict Cumberbatch was excellent at portraying Sherlock going from balanced to completely off the rails, to healthy again with the help of his best friend. Martin Freeman was also great as new father—and widower—John Watson, as he dealt with the highs of a newborn, the crushing guilt and loss of Mary (Amanda Abbington), and ultimately become a solid, supportive rock for Sherlock. I do feel the writing pulled Watson a bit out of character, even if it ended up bringing both him and Sherlock to a strong emotional conclusion.

The first episode, The Six Thatchers, was the weakest link. I liked the case—and all the minor cases they montaged through—but killing Mary was very disappointing. She was a great character who held her own on investigations with Sherlock and Watson, so to go out taking a bullet for Sherlock didn’t feel like a fitting end for her. I don’t entirely buy that a new mother would do that in the first place, but my problem is moreso that it almost feels like they killed her because they couldn't or didn’t want to figure out how to change the Sherlock/Watson dynamic into something fresh with her in the mix. Instead, it seems like they opted for reverting back to what they already had, plus new, unnecessary drama inserted since she died saving Sherlock. That didn’t feel like an important and earned dramatic twist. To pile guilt onto Watson for something so out of character—texting with some random girl he met on the bus—also felt cheap and unneeded. That said, I really enjoyed revisiting the spy world and Mary’s role in it for one last adventure. The reveal that a British Parliament secretary was behind everything was a surprise, and in hindsight definitely should’ve caught Mary’s earlier comment about secretaries knowing everything! I also enjoyed this peek at Mary’s spy past and her message to Sherlock, even if the latter came from a development I felt was unearned. 

The second installment, The Lying Detective, was much stronger. I thought the low-key science fiction “memory erasure” chemicals used to conceal Culverton Smith’s (Toby Jones) murder confession were cool, as were Sherlock’s attempts to prove the entrepreneur really is killing people. Jones was great as the creepy, slimy billionaire murderer. The show’s game of “is Faith real or Sherlock’s hallucination?” was a fun bit of misdirection for both the characters and me. I’d figured Smith actually was a killer, but thought he sent his daughter to Sherlock (and had her avoid all street cameras) to make Holmes look crazy so that no one would believe him…I never guessed the reveal that “Faith,” the woman Watson had been texting, and Watson’s therapist were one and the same and Sherlock’s long-lost sister, Eurus (Sian Brooke)! While I hated killing off Mary, I will say that the fallout was very well done. Watson seeing/hearing imaginary Mary over the course of the episode worked perfectly and the idea of her fixing Sherlock and Watson’s friendship made for a powerful, emotional climax when they finally started talking to each other again. It was a smart move to finally show a bit more humanity in Sherlock’s relationship with Watson, especially considering what was to come in the next episode. Sherlock’s predictive powers were dialed up to 11 for this episode, but that played into the fun of it for me. It was nice that they remembered Irene Adler (Lara Pulver) after all this time too. The only thing that stuck out as a negative—which I may have misheard—was the comment that Sherlock is dying. Was that resolved through his hospital stay, or did they just never mention it again?

The third episode, The Final Problem, was a great cat-and-mouse puzzle box episode! I love the idea of death traps heroes have to use their wits to escape, so Sherlock, Watson, and Mycroft (Mark Gatiss) making their way through a booby-trapped island insane asylum taken over by Eurus was classic and outstanding! The death traps and puzzles themselves were great and intense, paying off subplots like Molly Hooper’s (Louise Brealey) crush on Sherlock and testing Sherlock’s bonds with Mycroft and Watson (I actually thought for a moment Sherlock would shoot his brother to save Watson!). That all the deathtraps were friends vs. family-themed, except the brothers one, was a smart hint at Eurus’ past with Sherlock. The revelation that Redbeard was not Sherlock’s dog, but his friend who’d been killed by Eurus was a total shock! We need more brilliant female villains and Eurus was definitely up to the challenge of confounding her already-brilliant brothers. I wonder if the revelation of the women behind the secret rebellion in The Abominable Bride was foreshadowing Eurus as a powerful woman out for revenge that no one could see coming. I didn’t mind her ability to “hypnotize” people with her voice; I like a little heightened reality (and I almost wonder if Eurus hypnotized Watson into texting her. They didn’t talk much, but…). Moriarty (Andrew Scott) fit into her plan very well; I liked that all his “Miss Me?” videos and audio files were her idea and it was fun to see him one last time. At the start of the season I was intrigued by whether or not Moriarty were still alive somehow, but I preferred this actual resolution. 

I do think the episode made a wrong turn in the last act, however. For starters, the revelation of the truth of the plane scenes was anticlimactic (I guessed it’d be a rig, like a movie set). To end up just being Eurus cowering in a corner—and that she was crazy because Sherlock wouldn’t play with her as a kid—was pretty lame. After all of this, she effectively captures herself? Come on. The last-minute sympathetic nature they tried to give her—without even a hint of emotion (or understanding of emotion) at any point before—feels like they wanted to have it both ways rather than taking her to the logical end of this story. She murdered several people without blinking and Sherlock not playing with her as a kid doesn't excuse that. Why should we feel sorry for her? I'd have preferred they not try to redeem her at the last minute and allow her to be exactly what she was for the rest of the episode: someone with intellect surpassing Sherlock and Mycroft’s, but without any emotions or humanity (maybe she suppressed her’s too as a kid). I really think Eurus should've been a cautionary tale about Sherlock continuing to repress his emotions in favor of sheer intellect (paying off his early self-description as a high-functioning sociopath). Don’t try to make us feel bad for her after watching her murder over and over again, make us fear her. If she were that cautionary tale, then the (brilliant) reveal that meeting John saved Sherlock from what Eurus did to him would’ve connected to the rest of the plot more clearly.

There were a couple of logic holes to the episode as well; chiefly, if she had a hypnotic voice, why was she not ever put in a sound-proof cell? At the very least she should’ve been in one at the end. While I did like the idea of her and Sherlock finally “playing together,” is that really enough to ensure that she’ll just be good and won’t escape again? Also, if Watson and Trevor were put in a well (apparently on or near the Holmes home grounds), why didn't Sherlock know where the well was? Once he knew where Watson was, why wasn't he running to the well? Despite these missteps, the intense mind games and traps in the rest of the episode and the final forging of the iconic Holmes/Watson bond made this a solid and entertaining finale to the fourth series.

If Sherlock ends here—and this certainly felt like an ending—I’ll be disappointed, but only because we won’t be getting any more from it. The show ended with a fun, strong emotional payoff for me, so I’m satisfied with what we have. I’d love to see more, of course, so if Cumberbatch, Martin, and the creators are willing, bring it on!