#the pilot and his girl | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chirpsythismorning · 1 month

Text

Fun fact: In the original pitch for Stranger Things, El had a little brother.

After being rejected by almost 20 studios for the Montauk pilot, the Duffers were finally green-lit by Netflix. It was at this time that they began casting and then writing the first season officially, which included reworking a lot of that first episode.

This led to the removal of the brother reference, and with it, removing any sort of arc El could have had about her apparent brother.

But the thing about this moment, is that it might not have been scrapped entirely...

Going into the final season, no one can explain why or how El recognized Will back in 1x02. And while there are plenty of things on the show that are left unexplained, with a small portion likely left that way with the intention to uncover it later, what sets this moment apart from the rest is that there are very few possibilities here.

Because for starters, the story presents El's ability to see people in the void in s1 as requiring either a picture of that person for reference, or having met that person before.

But when El see's this picture of Will, she's never met him before. Or maybe she has, but we wouldn't know because they never showed us. They could have just not done this scene at all, given that it's clearly a copy/paste/edit of something scrapped from the pitch. Or they could have even still included it, but explained it.

One explanation could be that the lab had shown El a picture of Will before, similar to what they did with the Russian agent they wanted to spy on. But then that begs to question, why would the lab show El a picture of Will? Why would they want to see what he was doing? That alone is incriminating in and of itself, implying that Will is more connected to the lab than we realize.

The only other, and frankly most likely explanation, would be that El stumbled across Will at some point on her journey between escaping the lab and Will going missing. This is actually something that happens in The Other Side comic, which explores all the things Will may have experienced during his time in the Upside Down.

Though it’s worth noting the comics aren’t technically canon, and I highly doubt they would outright spoil everything in relation to Will’s time there, years before it was intended to be revealed. But still, let's humor this for a moment given that I do think Will's time in the UD is going to be very relevant in s5, which means it's highly likely they will finally address how exactly El saw him.

Basically, in the comic, Will see’s El walking through the woods, almost apparition like, glowing as she passes by, while also sporting the Benny’s burgers shirt. This means they would have crossed passed within a short span of time, between when El escaped Benny’s when the agents arrived, but before she was found by the boys.

Though it’s worth noting that we’re seeing this all from Will’s perspective. This means from the UD, Will was capable of seeing El on the other side, despite them being on different sides. And not only that, but she also looks back at him.

What confuses me about this, is that it doesn’t make sense for El to be in the woods, only to randomly decide to pop in to the void for a moment. She was trying to escape the lab and everything that came with it. I doubt she had any desire to lurk back there for some reason, not until someone encouraged her to. Not to mention, it would make no sense for her to go there and see Will if she wasn't even looking for him in the first place. And so this would mean Will and El could see each other, with Will being in the UD, and El being on the other side.

While it does seem pretty far off, given that you would think Will and El wouldn't be able to see each other from different sides, it is true in the story that El not only recognizes Will, but knows that he is in danger. She mentions that he is hiding specifically.

Which means she has likely seen him within the last 24 hours regardless.

This, in combination with Will being able to respond to El in the void at the end of the season in Castle Byers, when no one else outside of Terry and flayed-Billy have been able to, seems to imply that there is indeed something special about Will that makes him capable of communicating with El from the UD. Not only that, but El also seems to have an ability to be in this constant knowing state of how Will is doing, without even checking again to confirm. She's just certain of it. And she seems terrified about it.

Going forward, El never uses a picture of Will to find him. She never did. And more often than not, they don’t show us what she see’s either, not until the very end. And that’s the moment they reveal that he was able to communicate with her.

Again, there was really no reason to have El recognize Will. If anything it complicates things. But the fact that they chose to introduce this concept, with a scene from the original pitch that was related to El’s younger brother, with her pointing at his name cryptically, startling Benny, only to revamp it and have El not say anything at all while pointing at the picture of Will, startling Mike… It just really makes you stop and think.

Which brings me to the other aspect of this that might have people doubting, which is that El’s brother was originally younger than her.

We know Will is not younger than El, so how could this apply to him?

Well, it might be helpful to consider that in the original script, El was actually 10 years old, while the boys were always 12. Meaning that for some reason, they decided to age her up to the age of the boys, aka the same age as Will…

Ever since @erikiara80 shared this brother discovery with me, I have been sort of reeling. It then led to other little discoveries of changes they made between Montauk and Stranger Things.

It’s important to understand that the Montauk bible and the original script precedes what we ended up with in the final product, with it finally changing and evolving months, maybe even a year since that original vision. Even casting occurred before writing started for the first season. We know this because casting announcements were made in June and August of 2015, with writing not starting until August going into early 2016, simultaneously while they were filming.

And believe it or not, what I've discovered is that a lot of the changes they made between their original plans and what we see in the final product, have to do with not only Willel, but also Byler.

If you've read the original script for Montauk, you'll know that Mike's crush on Jennifer Hayes was focused on right from the jump, along with the birthmark on his face being focused on, which was the main cause of the bullying he experienced.

This has actually been talked about recently, and some of the claims people make do fit with what I am genuinely starting to consider here, which is that the initial plan for what makes Mike an outcast shifted.

I think when they completed casting, and started actually deep diving into what they wanted this world to look like, both from a short-term and long-term standpoint, they were presented with some pretty interesting discoveries, arguably already hiding in their initial plans without realizing it.

And this is where it sort of becomes a 'chicken or the egg' situation. Because which one came first? Byler or Willel?

I can't say for certain, because obviously this is all just speculation. But in the case that Willel came first, I think Byler would come very naturally after that.

The Duffers themselves are twins. Then they hire Noah, who is a twin. Then they're thinking and planning for El's past and how her family all fits into this, and they're thinking... wait a damn minute... We could totally Star Wars this bitch!

And then when they think it couldn't get any better, they uncover another layer that they hadn't planned or really considered in their initial plans.

While Will was always going to have sexual identity issues according to the Montauk bible, meaning that the writing process for him likely involved sitting down imagining scenarios that encapsulated this arc for Will from the beginning, they were simultaneously now finding very interesting aspects of Mike's character that made it hard not to at least consider the possiblity that Mike is not exactly straight.

Just think about it. The Byers and Wheelers are basically polar opposites on the spectrum of what a family looks like. While Will's discovery and acceptance of his queerness is interesting to explore because he comes from a low-income, single-mom household, all while having been bullied for years based on his perceived queerness, he also has a mother and brother constantly reinforcing that they will accept him no matter what. They've been sort of hitting us over the head with it for years, and so it wouldn't be very satisfying for his entire arc to merely lead up to something we've known all along. It's pretty much a given at this point.

On the other side of the spectrum, Mike comes from a more upper-middle class family at the end of a cul-de-sac, more aligned with what a nuclear family looks like. Mike's family is also presented as being more conservative, and while Karen does give that very queer-coded speech to Mike in s1 (I'm convinced they only wrote this after deciding to explore queer-coding more heavily with Mike), it also comes with comments from Ted and even still Karen that hint that they are probably not as open-minded and accepting as Will's family is to him. Which means Mike's arc would be a lot more about acceptance around him from his loved ones who we have been led to believe might not be as accepting of his queerness in contrast to Will.

And so as they're putting this story together, and they're being presented with something very interesting. Two similar experiences that play out in different ways because of the characters circumstances.

Will goes missing, and his twin sister with a buzzcut pops up and has the ability to help them find Will.

This leads to several moments where El is being compared to as not only a boy, but Will as well.

Now suddenly, their initial plans to have Mike's arc be about having a girl be interested in him and to hopefully have his first kiss and feel like less of a loser, starts to look a lot like what the experience a queer kid in his position might encounter growing up in the environment that he did.

And if you don't want to take my word for it, just hear the Duffer's themselves hinting at what they initially planned for Mike and the fact that it changed.

The changes don't stop there.

Believe it or not, 'It was a seven', did not exist in the initial pitch. When the boys went outside bickering over Nancy, they leave right after that.

Another thing that changed from the first script, was Scott Clarke's introduction:

And so you might be thinking, who cares? What does that have to do with anything?

Well, it's interesting because the line we end up with on the show is arguably one of the most on the nose Twelvegate proofs to date. Mind you, this is from the first episode:

Why chuck the original version, which was arguably more interesting and fascinating in terms of it hinting at the mysteriousness surrounding this story, only to replace it with him listing off tips about their upcoming test?

Well, I think it's the irony of it all. Here Mr. Clarke is practically telling us where to look to figure stuff out for ourselves what is going on, with all the kids filing out and ignoring him...

I relate to Scott a litttle too much in this shot here, any time I try to drop Willel evidence.

And the changes go on, as they obviously would.

Things like Terry Ives not even being El's mom, but actually a man who more so aligns with the characterization of Murray.

And one very interesting one I almost overlooked was in Hopper's introduction, where instead of a kids drawing done by who we assume to be Sarah, we actually see a picture on the wall of him and his wife and daughter... Interesting that they decided to switch it something that is a lot less definitive in presenting what Hopper's past looked like...

If you've made it this far, congratulations.

If you still think I'm out of my mind, just remember that El was going to have a brother in the original script, but they scrapped the scene and gave a near identical one to introduce her connection to Will instead 😘

#byler #stranger things #willel twins #twelvegate #montauk #as you can see #i am out of my mind #and i'm okay with that #i've spent the last couple months trying to make a video going over all the willel twin evidence #and i can't decide if it's even possible to do without going over an hour #like there is just so much shit that fits too perfectly into this family being ripped apart by mind control and time shenanigans #i hope to have it done soon #trying to make it less than 20 minutes #but it's probably going to end up being closer to an hour #especially with this stuff from the montauk pitch being added to the mix now #anyways #willel and byler are the curtain behind the curtain #if you are open to one of them #you are bound to stumble across the other #and they don't want that to happen #stay tuned for the inevitable twin imagery to continue in s5 related to willel leading up to the big reveal #bc it's arguably the most consistent thing about this damn show #and tbh this all just makes the queer-coding for mike in s1 a lot more concrete to me #them exploring will's queerness through his dad's expectations for him to do more 'manly' things like play baseball #and jonathan saying he shouldn't like things just bc people telll him he's supposed to #how they connect that narratively with the boys being at a baseball field when mike's being pressured about his supposed feelings for el #with the bullies showing up and literally being homophobic seconds later #the fact that jennifer hayes did in fact exist in the original pilot and was the girl mike had a crush on #only for them to scrap that and just make it about her having a crush on will...#never once introducing this idea of mike liking her...

114 notes · View notes

avastrasposts · 9 months

Text

The Pilot and his Girl - ch. 26**

So much happening in this chapter so it's a long one! And a happy chapter! Again, this is a series of scenes I've had in my head since the beginning, the events that take place as they finally make it to New York and I had a lot of fun planning them and finally writing them.

Series Master List

Warnings have their own post, please heed them if needed

Word count: 14k (you'll either hate that or love it 😅)

Morrow, the raider, turns out to be a decent guide. Either that, or the thinly veiled threats Pope hisses at him as he tugs on the man’s rope keeps him perpetually terrified enough to not try anything. He leads you all on back roads that avoid towns and main routes, and the closer you get to New York, the more confident he gets as he takes you into buildings, skirting around hordes of infected. It’s clear that this is territory he’s crossed many times as a smuggler, just as Frankie and Pope had around Arlington.

It takes almost three days of walking to reach Hoboken, the broken New York skyline slowly getting closer. You only realize you’ve reached the city when you see a shattered sign that reads Hoboken Beer & Soda Outlet, hanging off a bombed out building.

“You’ve done good, Morrow,” Pope says to the young man, as you all catch a glimpse of the Hudson River between demolished buildings.

“Thanks,” he replies, less nervous now than when he first started out. He’s still restrained but as he continued to lead you safely through the devastated urban landscape of New Jersey, the guys became less hard on him, sharing rations and making sure he was at least as comfortable as the rest of you at night. You thought it showed some humanity on the guys part but Frankie shook his head when you brought it up, out of earshot of Morrow.

“We treat him well so that he feels less inclined to fuck us. If we treat him fair he’ll think we’ll let him go without harm once we don’t need him anymore and that makes him want to make sure we’re happy with how he aids us.”

“But you’re not gonna let him go?” you ask, glancing over at Morrow where he and Pope are discussing the best way forward towards Sinatra Park.

Frankie shrugs, “We’ll let him go, but we’ll probably hand him over to FEDRA once we get to the intake area.”

Morrow had told you about the FEDRA intake area located at Sinatra Park in Hoboken. It was a small temp QZ where people were scanned, assessed and then allowed to take a boat across to the main Manhattan QZ if they passed. According to Morrow, most people were admitted as long as they were healthy. The QZ needed people to rebuild the city, the hope was to bring back some sort of normalcy inside the walls. He’d said there was even talk of a vaccine research facility, FEDRA attempting to locate and bring in any surviving vaccine researchers from across the country. It sounded hopeful but like most people, you were jaded at this point. You’d settle for a safe QZ devoid of fascist tendencies, decent food and an apartment where Frankie could make good on his promises about where he wanted to spend his time.

“C’mere, guys,” Pope waves Benny, Frankie and you over to where he’s been talking to Morrow. He points to a building about a block away, it’s been bombed and is tilting precariously to the right. “The plan was to go through that building, that’s the way they’ve been coming, the boat they use to sneak across the Hudson is moored on the other side. But, look at that,” he points to the first floor corner, bright orange and red tendrils visible through a broken window. “Morrow says those are new.”

“Fuck,” you hear Benny hiss behind you, and you mirror his sentiments. The bright red and orange hues means fresh cordyceps growth. Someone in the building has been infected, died and now the fungal growth is creeping out from their body, seeking out new ways to spread itself. Step on it and any infected within several miles will feel it and come running, the large underground mycelium network working to alert every part of a potential threat or victim.

“So we’re not going through there,” Frankie says and Pope nods.

“No, clearly not. The only other option is the building next door,” he indicates a large red brick building on the other side of a partially destroyed street. The building looks unharmed and the large glass door to the ground floor coffee shop stands open. “But that building hasn’t been cleared by anyone in a long time according to Morrow, it’s even possible whoever is responsible for the new cordyceps growth came from it.”

“So potentially a nice little horde of infected?” Benny sighs, pulling off his cap to run his hand through his hair and shoving it down again, backwards as usual.

“Probably not a horde, we would’ve seen more growth coming out of the building and I see none, but yeah,” Pope shrugs and looks back at the three of you, “definitely potentially infected inside.”

You take a deep breath and look over at Frankie, he’s looking at his boots, adjusting the leg holster on his thigh and he feels your eyes on him, looking up to meet them. You don’t even have to say anything, he takes a step closer, his hand finding yours, giving it a light squeeze of reassurance.

“Are there any options of going around, Morrow?” he asks the young man standing next to Pope.

“I don’t know how far we’d have to back track, the main path to Sinatra Park used to be a few miles back and further north but FEDRA blew up those buildings about a year ago because it got swamped by a horde.”

“So we either face this potentially infected building, or we backtrack and definitely have to deal with more infected,” Frankie looks over at Pope and Benny. “We’re pushing our luck the longer we stay out here, traveling through this kind of area I mean, we’ve already been out here three days.”

“Yeah, I agree,” Benny says, “we go slow, be careful, and go through this building, dealing with anything we find. It’s better than going into unknown territory.”

“Ok,” Pope nods, “we go through here then, everybody ready up.”

“What about me?” Morrow asks, his voice worried, “I don’t wanna go through there with my hands tied.”

Pope looks over at the three of you and you nod without thinking, letting him into the building with his hands tied would be cruel, and where is he going to run to now? Benny and Frankie seem to agree and Pope cuts the cable tie that’s around Morrow’s wrists.

“Do I get a weapon?” he asks and Pope scoffs.

“Don’t push your luck.”

Pope takes the lead, Morrow behind him with Benny taking up the rear as you all as silently as possible enter the building through the open doors. Inside the entrance you get a better look at the busted coffee shop, looted of anything useful years ago it seems. Tables and chairs are scattered across the interior, broken mugs on the floor, but thankfully no sign of fungal growth. Pope glances back and signals for you all to move towards the back door of the coffee shop, you can see it hanging half open next to the Please dispose of your trash here sign on the back wall.

You hold your breath, gun in hand and pointed towards the floor, as Pope puts his shoulder to the door and carefully pushes it open. The hinges protest slightly, a low squeak making you all freeze and listen intently. When nothing stirs, Pope slides off his backpack and slips through the opening. One by one you do the same and follow him through. Behind the door is a hallway, lined with cardboard boxes filled with supplies for the coffee shop and knocked over trash bags that makes the place reek of years old fermented coffee grinds and rat droppings. You pull the top of your sweater over your mouth and nose, wrinkling your face at the stench.

Pope spots a sturdy looking door at the end of the hallway, it looks like it leads to the outside and you pray for it to be that easy. But of course it’s not, as you get closer you see Pope mouth a silent Fuck, there’s no door handle on the door and it’s locked tight, he gives it an experimental shove. Turning back he motions down a hallway that runs along the outside wall, at the end of it is what looks like an internal fire escape staircase. Pope makes a couple of hand signals, and you all nod, up the stairs, try to find a way out and down to ground level again.

Pope and Morrow silently climb the stairs, Frankie and you following close behind. At the top is another door, leading into a hallway with doors on one side and three windows lining the opposite wall. Holding up the door, Morrow lets you all through it before he silently lets it slip shut, only the faintest click as the lock catches. But it’s enough to elicit a noise that you know too well.

The second you hear it, everyone freezes in their tracks, the tell tale sound of a clicker somewhere nearby, the screeching like inhumane fingernails over a chalkboard. You bite back a whimper, briefly closing your eyes as Frankie’s hand shoots out and grabs yours.

Everybody knows the drill, spreading out and silently finding cover out of sight. The clickers’ echo location, their screeching, works in the same way as a bats. Even if they can’t see you, when they screech towards you, the sound will bounce off your body and tell the clicker exactly where you are. Staying hidden and silent is the only way to escape them. They can be killed by a gunshot to the head, but that noise will attract any other infected in the building. The best, but very dangerous, way to kill them, is to sneak up behind them and stab them in the head, hoping they don’t suddenly turn and hear you. Killing them straight on is almost impossible, the infection giving them inhuman strength.

The space upstairs seems to be made up of a number of small apartments, the doors to them all open, four in total down the length of the hallway. There’s no shelter in the hallway and you all shuffle into the nearest apartment. Pope signals window back to Benny and Frankie and they nod.

“How?” you mouth to them. How will you all sneak out into the hallway, open a window and climb out without alerting the clicker? It seems impossible. Pope opens his mouth to whisper a reply when you hear feet dragging across the hallway and the tell tale sound of the clicker’s screech.

You move immediately, as quietly as possible you all sneak further into the small apartment, Frankie pulls you down behind the kitchen counter in one corner, Pope and Morrow duck behind the couch on the other side of the apartment door.

You turn around and glance towards the door and your stomach drops as you see Benny. His back is pressed against the wall and you realize what he’s about to try. His hunting knife is in his hand and he’s poised, ready to strike as the clicker staggers into the opening of the door, stopping and screeching loudly into the room. The grotesque creature, fungal growth erupting from down the middle of its head, obscuring almost all human features, lurches into the room. Benny makes his moves, the knife makes a sickening crunch as it connects with the clicker but it jerks out of the way and his hand slips, the knife sinking into the neck instead of the temple. Instantly the clicker wrenches itself away from Benny who struggles to get the knife out of its neck. You see Pope rush forward, the clicker screeching, the sound being answered by another screech somewhere in the building. Benny’s knife is still lodged in the clickers neck, Benny’s got one hand on the handle, another around the clickers neck, desperately trying to keep the snapping jaws away from himself. Pope skids around the clicker, his own knife drawn, avoiding the creature's flailing arms, and sinks it down to the handle into the soft tissue of the temple. The clicker screeches again, going limp under Benny’s grip and Pope wrenches his knife out and jabs it in again, twisting it deep in the fungal growth that’s taken over inside the skull.

Another screech goes up just outside the apartment door and you yell a warning to Pope, he’s just by the door, struggling to wrench his knife out again. The second clicker slams into him and Benny scrambles to shove the body of the first one out of the way, reaching out to stop the infected from sinking into Pope’s neck. Frankie rushes forward, pushing past you as Morrow bolts from behind the couch, heading for the front door, ducking around Pope as Pope gets his arm up under the creature's neck.

Benny grabs onto what’s left of the clickers jacket and it staggers back, slamming into Morrow who tumbles with a yelp as the clicker rips itself from Benny’s grip and snarls. It’s a tangle of limbs, the clickers wide open mouth, tendrils waving from its maw, Pope kicks frantically on the floor as Morrow’s arm hits him over the head. Morrow fights to get back on his feet, the clicker scrabbling to latch onto any living thing. It takes only seconds, but you feel like you’re watching in slow motion when Frankie reaches the clicker, gun in hand, and fires directly into its temple.

Both Pope and Benny stumble back, shoving the clicker away, on top of the first one. Morrow sinks down against the door, breathing heavy as Benny drags Pope to his feet.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, you ok, Santi?” Benny yells, searching any of his friend’s visible skin. Frankie rushes forward too, pulling back Pope’s collar to check. Pope breathes heavily, running hands over his throat, his chest, wrists and finally ankles and legs.

“I’m good,” he exhales before drawing a long breath in, “You?” he asks Benny who nods.

“Yeah, they never got close enough.”

“Guys…” you say, and they turn to you. You’ve crossed the small apartment and you’re looking down at Morrow. He’s silently staring at the back of his hand, blood and teeth marks clearly visible, his hand is shaking as he lets a sob escape, turning to look at the four of you.

“Fuck,” Pope exhales, the four of you are frozen in front Morrow, his fate sealed. He looks up at you all with fear in his eyes.

“Please, kill me,” he sobs, “please.”

Frankie reluctantly raises his gun, aiming at the young man's head, but you quickly put your hand on his arm, “Wait;” you say, “Is there anyone in New York you want us to give a message to, someone who should know?”

Morrow gasps for air, sobs threatening to take over as he shakes his head, “Just tell the captain I’m sorry I fucked up.”

“Your FEDRA captain?” you ask.

“No, The Captain, he’s my boss, and my friend I guess, he’ll find you once you’re inside, just tell him I’m sorry.”

“Ok, we’ll tell him, don’t worry, Morrow.” Frankie glances over at you for confirmation that he can carry on, and you look at Morrow who nods, closing his eyes. The gunshot is painfully loud in the small room and it makes you wince, the young man slumps over against the wall, his eyes still closed.

The irony of it is that it doesn’t take you long to get to Sinatra Park once Benny’s forced open a window and you’ve all scrambled down the side of the building. A few short, easy blocks, and then you’re standing again in front of FEDRA soldiers with guns trained on the four of you. Morrow was so close to making it.

You’re quickly scanned, all of you negative, and let into the small temporary QZ area. So quick and easy, you almost feel guilty. Morrow had led you safely through the urban hellscape that was New Jersey, and then, at the last moment, he’d fallen.

“He was trying to run,” Frankie says, to make you feel less guilty but even if that was right, who were you to blame him? The clicker went for Pope and you’d been frozen, Frankie had saved him while you remained frozen to the floor.

“We all have our strengths and weaknesses, cariño,” his thumb running over your cheek as he cups your face, “your job is not to take down clickers. Your job is to be mine, let me be yours, keep me sane, grounded, give me purpose.” He’s leaned his forehead against yours as you blink back guilty tears.

“But what if it’d been you, and I was frozen while you were attacked by a clicker?”

Frankie shakes his head, “I don’t think you’d be frozen if you were on your own with me or Ben och Pope, you’d be as ferocious as you were with Myers or when we first came to Arlington,” he’d said, his thumb still gently caressing the apple of your cheek. “You find your courage when you need it, I’ve seen it.”

“I want us to find his friend, The Captain, and tell him, we owe it to Morrow.”

“Yeah, we will, I’ll ask around when we get to Manhattan,” Frankie pulls you into his chest, arms wrapping around you, and you close your eyes, trying to not see the clickers and Morrow’s last moments in your mind again.

You’re all kept at Sinatra Park for a few days while they gather enough passengers for the ferry ride over to Manhattan. While you’re there you’re supplied with ration cards for food and supplies, a simple paper ID card and an address for your new accommodations. Once in the QZ you have three days to get settled, then you need to report to FEDRA’s work detail to be assigned jobs.

The ferry to Manhattan is surreal, it’s really just an old sailing boat, and you sit on deck, watching the broken skyline glide closer. It’s a beautiful day, late August, warm sun on your back and glittering water. If it wasn’t for the jagged, crumbling ruins of skyscrapers you’d think you were on a romantic weekend break with Frankie, taking a sightseeing tour on the Hudson. The illusion shatters the second you step ashore though, your papers are checked and then you’re scanned again by FEDRA before you’re let through the final checkpoint.

Once on the other side the four of you made your way to an address on the Upper West Side. You can’t help but giggle as you see the building, you’re in a fucking brownstone on the Upper West Side. The area is less bombed than other parts of Manhattan, so most people live here now, but still. You and Frankie are now living in a studio apartment within spitting distance of Central Park, worth more before the outbreak than you and Frankie earned combined in probably about ten years. If it wasn’t for the whole ‘end of the world’ thing, you’d be ecstatic.

You’ve been given accommodation in the same building as Pope and Benny, they’re just a floor below you two. Frankie and you had registered as husband and wife with FEDRA in Arlington, even if you’d never had a wedding or a ceremony. There had been some religious men of different faiths in Arlington who’d married people for a few ration cards, but it seemed so pointless to you both. Frankie was yours, and you were his, a glum ceremony in the apocalypse wouldn’t make any difference. So when FEDRA asked how you were related, he said you were his wife and then you were. The ring was still on your finger, the three diamonds a permanent reminder of the little threesome you’d almost become.

Walking into your new apartment feels like a massive relief. You love Benny and Pope and you’re happy they’ll be just downstairs, but to finally be able to close the door behind you, and have your own place with Frankie again, it makes your breath a deep contented sigh.

Frankie drops both your backpacks on the floor and wraps his arms around you from behind, his head coming to rest on your shoulder.

“Wanna check what the water pressure’s like?” he mumbles, his hands already slipping up to cup your breasts through your t-shirt.

“Oh god, a shower…” you moan, “I’d forgotten about showers.”

Frankie chuckles into your ear, “I’ve been dreaming about showers for a month.”

“You’ve been dreaming about us in a shower for a month,” you correct him and you can feel his chest vibrate as he laughs.

“True,” he says, grabbing the old Ikea bag filled with towels, sheets and hygiene supplies you’d been given when you’d been assigned the apartment, “so make my dreams come true, hermosa.”

“Cheesy, very cheesy,” you laugh at his wink but accept his hand as he pulls you through the small studio apartment. It’s just a room, not a very big one even, with an alcove for a double bed at one end, kitchen at the other. Apart from the front door, there are only two doors, one leading to a tiny storage room, the other on to the bathroom. It doesn’t have a bathtub, just a small shower in the corner with a glass wall shielding the rest of the room from the spray.

“If we try anything sex related in this shower we’ll either soak the room or injure ourselves,” you say, giving the small space a critical look. “Bedroom?”

“You mean the bed in the middle of the living room? Sure. But I’ll let you shower before I make good on that hour between your legs,” Frankie grins, “Make you think about how I’m gonna let you test the sound proofing in this building.” He pulls you in by grabbing your ass, his mouth finding yours as he pushes you up against the counter with a playful growl. You giggle into his mouth as he grinds into you.

“Never known a forty year old to be so horny, Frankie, you’re hornier than the guys I dated when I was a teenager.” You laugh as he growls into your mouth, his rapidly growing cock firm against your hip.

“Wish I’d known you when I was a teenager,” he mumbles, his lips moving down your jaw when he suddenly pulls back, “No, wait, the sex would’ve been terrible, I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing back then.”

“Inexperienced little Francisco Morales? I would’ve loved that too,” you chuckle, pushing him off you. “I’m gonna shower, make the bed and I’ll let you show me your new moves.”

“You already know all my moves,” he nips at your bottom lip with a smirk before leaving.

The pressure in the shower is low but at least the water is hot and clean, steaming up the small bathroom. Frankie comes in after a little while and sits on the toilet, peeling off his layers as you dry off and step out.

“C’mere,” he murmurs, eyes on your damp curves and you have to slap his hand away with a smile.

“You’re all grimy, Frankie, shower first, then hands.” You wink at him and quickly jump backwards out the door as he tries to catch your ass.

The bed must’ve been the one originally in the apartment because it is nice….you groan as you sink into the large plush mattress. Or it might just be that you’ve spent most nights on a camping mat, because it’s like a cloud under you. By the time Frankie comes out of the shower, his damp curls like a halo around his head, you’re almost asleep.

“Nice bed?” he asks, grinning down at your sleepy face as he crawls on top, caging you in as he drops onto his forearms.

“Very nice bed,” you reply, smiling as he sinks down further to take your bottom lips between his teeth, making you open your mouth for his tongue. His warm body is like a weighted blanket over you as he slowly works to replace your sleepiness with arousal, when you let a first soft moan slip out he pulls back and looks down at you.

“Still tired?” he smiles as his warm hand grabs the back of your thigh and slides your knee up, opening you up to the heavy weight of his erection.

“Yeah, but you can keep going, if you’re good enough I won’t fall asleep.”

You shriek with laughter as your comment makes him slip down and blow a wet raspberry into your belly button, squirming under his fingers.

“So cheeky, as if you could fall asleep with what I have planned, hermosa,” he purrs, slipping down further to nose at the top of your slit. You feel his fingers caress the smooth skin on your thighs and spread you open as he makes room for his shoulders, the sight of his broad back between your legs never ceases to turn you on. You reach down to thread your fingers through his curls, making Frankie hum into your core.

“Time me, cariño, I said an hour,” he says, unfurling his tongue and letting the tip run the length of your fold. It’s such a slow, teasing movement that makes you clench around nothing, gasping as you sink further into the bed, trying to stop the giggle from getting the better of you.

“I don’t even have watc-oh shit, Frankie….”

You wouldn’t be able to say if it’s an hour or not, you lose track of time as soon as he starts teasing your clit, it has been a long time since there was time or safety enough for this. And you’ve missed it, holy fuck you’d missed it. His hot mouth pressed against your core, the thick tongue sliding into your entrance as his perfect nose circles your clit. He groans into you, his fingers digging into the meat of your thighs as you fist his hair, crying out as he pulls the first orgasm from you. He pulls back, strokes your hips, letting you catch your breath before he moves up over your damp skin, trailing wet kisses over every inch he can reach.

“Your old moves still work, Morales,” you smile at him as he reaches your mouth. Tasting yourself on him always makes your arousal flare up again, something about him mixing with you. He chuckles, letting his hand slide down between your legs.

“I noticed,” he says, his damp nose sliding down over your jaw as he slowly slips in a finger, “and you taste just as good as I remember.”

He lets his fingers open you up before he leaves your mouth, moving down between your legs again. This time his fingers slowly fucks in and out of you while his groans, vibrating over your clit makes you cant your hips against his face, chasing his tongue. He leaves you hanging, just on the edge, with a pained protest, as he removes his fingers.

“Turn over,” he says, his voice rough, helping you onto your belly, “keep your ankles crossed.”

“New move?” you ask with a grin over your shoulder, earning you a nip on your butt, before he runs his tongue over the mark.

“Maybe, I had an idea in the shower,” he gives you a crooked smile and bends down over you, pushing your head down to place a wet kiss on your neck, keeping you flush against the bed.

“Push your hips up, baby, like this,” he grabs your hip, guiding them up against his own. His heavy cock pushes in between your thighs, his hand guiding the head to run through your slick folds. The angle and your closed thighs makes him feel bigger than usual, the stretch making you moan into the sheets as he pushes in, his heavy pants blowing hot air over your neck.

“Fuck, that’s good,” he growls, he’s moving his hips, shallow thrusts into you as he slowly works his cock deeper in. “So fucking tight, hermosa, gorgeous girl, so good to me…fuck…can you take more?”

“Yes, please, Frankie, more,” you turn your head to find his lips, messy and uncoordinated as he groans into your mouth. He’s struggling to hold himself up, each thrust makes him want to fall over you, grind into your wet heat and cover your body with his own. You push back against him, taking him deeper as the angle pushes his hard cock to drag over every nerve ending inside you. The tight fit of him is making you whimper as he snaps his hips faster, grinding into you as he bottoms out. He’s pushing you into the bed, his heavy body trapping you under him as each thrust rubs your clit against the soft cotton sheets. Each groan from him makes your pussy clench harder, your orgasm suddenly hitting you, the sheet bunching in your fists as you cry out.

Frankie stutters and curses, a string of filth in Spanish slipping out as your pussy tightens around him.

“Where, cariño, where, I’m…fuck…close.”

“Inside, it’s ok,” you moan, his erratic thrusts making your climax hum through your body, arching up against him as he cries out. He suddenly drops down on you, his teeth sinking into your shoulder with a growl as heat fills you, he’s shuddering, his face buried against your shoulder, with a low gasp, he exhales.

“Fuck…” he moans, his mouth pressed against your skin and your hear the smile in his voice, “Fuck me that was intense,” he chuckles, panting as he tries to catch his breath.

“I think we ruined the sheets on the first try,” you laugh, flopping onto your back as he pulls out with a hiss, his spend dripping down your thighs. “I know, but it was worth it,” he puts his head on your arm and lets you pull him onto your chest, his head resting on your shoulder. “I’ll sleep on the wet patch.”

“I think you need a haircut,” you smile, pushing back his damp curls from his forehead. His hair has gotten long since you left Arlington, “a haircut or a ponytail.”

“Imagine Pope’s face if I turned up with a ponytail,” he chuckles, closing his eyes as you rake your fingers through hair, his breathing slows down and he hums, moving his head to give you better access, “I always love when you do that.”

“I know, Frankie,” you whisper, pulling the covers up over you both, Frankie’s warm body pressed against you.

It takes a few days for the four of you to settle in and start picking up odd jobs. You try to get a job in the FEDRA kitchen but you’re turned down, apparently any job inside a FEDRA facility is reserved for family members of FEDRA soldiers. And since none of the guys have any intentions of joining FEDRA again, you resign yourself to the same odd jobs as the guys. But there are other plans, and they start taking shape only a week after your arrival in New York.

One of the benefits of the four of you living practically next door is pooling your resources and making them stretch further. So most nights finds Frankie and you in Santi and Benny’s apartment, cooking dinner and hanging out, months on the road together had knitted you together into a family more than ever now. Their two bedroom apartment was bigger than what you and Frankie had and the kitchen had room for a large table where you often found yourself, if it wasn’t your turn to take care of the food.

This evening Benny’s peeling potatoes while the two of you wait for Frankie and Santi to get back from their job. They’d both signed on to dig up a new field for vegetables in a nearby park and it was hard work that left them tired and dirty each night. So when the front door opens and Pope steps in, grimy and sweaty, you throw him a sympathetic look.

“Hey, Santi, you’ve got time for a shower, dinner’s not ready yet,” you wave at him and he grunts a thank you, toeing his boots off.

“Frankie went to shower at your place, he’ll be here soon,” he tells you, pulling off his shirt as he heads towards the bathroom.

You lay the table and warm up some arepas while the potatoes boil on the stove. The door opens again and Frankie arrives, looking tired but smiling at you as you drop the last arepa on a plate and go over to him.

“Hello my sweet man,” you whisper, wrapping your arms around his neck, fingers tangling in the damp, now shorter, curls at his neck.

“Hello, mi vida,” he smiles back, his hands finding their way to your waist before he pulls you in for a kiss. Blame it on being safe, or the amount of sex you’ve had the past week or maybe ‘that time of the month’ hormones, but you can’t help but deepen the kiss, licking into his mouth and relishing the little surprised moan you pull from him as you tug at his locks, keeping him tight against you. You hear Benny sigh, pointedly, behind your back but Frankie’s got the message now and his hand is sliding up your back to grab your neck and hold you firmly against his mouth. The ‘welcome home’ kiss turns into a much more heated affair, dragging on until you finally have to pull back for air, Frankie’s lips chasing yours for a final press before he opens his eyes and smiles at you.

“You guys done now?” Benny huffs, mock indignation in his voice, from the kitchen.

“No,” Frankie says, his hands trying to get you into his arms again as you giggle and turn your back to him, pulling him into the kitchen.

“Sorry, Benny,” you apologize while your husband pulls you down onto his lap on one of the kitchen chairs, making you squeal when his fingers dig into your waist.

“I swear you guys are worse than teenagers,” Benny sighs but you hear the smile in his voice. “And Frankie, it’s technically your turn to do dinner so you owe me one.”

“Yeah, I know, we got delayed on the way back, we worked with a guy today who had some interesting information and we wanted to talk to him.”

“What kind of information?” you ask as Santi walks in, fresh from his shower.

“Remember ‘The Captain’ that Morrow mentioned, his boss?” he says, dropping down on a chair across the table from you. “Turns out, he’s the main boss, the guy who runs the smuggling in the QZ. And according to this guy we worked with today, he’s elusive. When you buy from the smugglers, you buy from one of his guys, never from him, he stays hidden because he’s pretty high on FEDRA’s wanted list.”

Benny puts down a stewpot on the table before he straightens up and looks at Pope, “Why is that interesting? Do we wanna meet this captain guy just to tell him Morrow died? Seems like a lot of hassle if the guy’s a ghost.”

“If we’re gonna start smuggling again we need to figure out how, and if this guy runs smuggling in the QZ, we need to work with him, or take him out. But,” Pope says, holding up his hand to silence Benny who’s opened his mouth again, “the guy we talked with said they haven’t been able to supply as usual the past few weeks. And we know why.”

“You guys took out a bunch of his guys….” you say, nodding as it dawns on you.

“Exactly,” Pope grins, “we’ve already started undermining him, there’s a gap in the market. So we pick up their slack, send a message and we have a better chance of getting in on the smuggling market.” Pope looks pleased with himself as he starts scooping up stew onto his plate.

“Isn’t it pretty likely that The Captain is gonna be pissed off when you start taking his customers?” You look down at Frankie, he’s been quiet the whole time, his hands holding you steady on his lap.

“Yeah, most likely,” he agrees, “but we can handle that, and it means he’ll be more inclined to work with us, if we’re already supplying what he can’t.”

You look at Frankie, chewing your lip, you have more things to say about it but you don’t know how to say it without sounding dismissive. Truth is, you’re worried it’ll be a lot more dangerous than in Arlington; a rival gang, new territory, new connections need to be made and new routes, all while staying under FEDRA’s radar and avoiding any infected. But you can’t tell them not to, smuggling makes them use their skills, the things they’re good at and at the same time bring in things you all need. And you know their smuggling made a difference to the people in Arlington. When FEDRA rationed food and medicine too harshly, what Frankie and Pope brought in could help someone who needed it and at the same time keep you all fed.

They make plans during the dinner and you don’t say much. Frankie notices your silence and he doesn’t like it, his hand keeps reaching out to touch your leg, wrap his fingers around yours, or pull you closer as you all stand from the dinner table. You feel his worried eyes on you as Pope and Benny pour over an old New York map, strategizing. He can see your mind working and he has an inkling about where it’s going.

You bring it up later, when you’re alone and back in your own apartment. Frankie’s crawled into bed, pulled down the covers for you to join him, but you remain standing after you come out of the bathroom.

“I want to be part of the smuggling,” you say and Frankie drops his chin to his chest, this is where he feared you were going.

“I know you don’t want me too, but, firstly, I am not sitting at home waiting for the three of you while you’re away doing something dangerous. Again. I did that in Arlington and it sucked.”

Frankie opens his mouth to protest but you cut him off. “And I know you said you need me safe to be able to focus out there, but we’ve been traveling across the country for months and we, all of us, work well together. And you know I can handle myself.” You kneel down on the bed in front of him, making him look you in the eye, “Let me be your lookout, or let me do the trading while you three stand behind me and look like bad asses.” The last thing makes Frankie give an involuntary smirk and you smile, “Frankie, you know it makes sense, I’m a good asset, I can be useful too.”

“I knew you were going to bring it up again,” he says, sighing while he traces his fingertips across your temple to push a strand of hair behind your ear. “If it was anyone else, I’d say yes straight away. But it’s you.” He stops and locks eyes with you, those warm brown eyes you’ve loved from the very beginning, anxious, “You’re everything to me, and the thought of you getting hurt, or worse, scares the shit out of me.”

“The thought of you getting hurt scares the shit out of me too,” you say, letting him pull you closer, his arms looping around your waist so that you're sitting on his lap, knees on either side of his hips. “But it scares me even more to think about you getting hurt when I’m not there. Frankie, my very worst nightmare is you just disappearing, and I don’t know what happened to you, like what Hannah had to go through with Will, never knowing.”

“That’s my worst nightmare too,” he whispers, his voice low and pained.

“So don’t make me wait at home for you again,” you plead. He tilts his head and leans his forehead against yours, closing his eyes with a sigh.

“Ok,” he breathes, “ok.”

It takes a couple of weeks for things to get set in motion, gather the necessary supplies and information to start thinking about leaving the QZ on a smuggling run. FEDRA has taken the rifles but you’d managed to hide your handguns in your backpacks so you weren’t entirely without weapons at least. The first run is short but successful, Pope seems to have a knack for sniffing out passageways. After studying the map and walking around the north eastern end of the QZ for a few days, he’s found several potential entry points into old service tunnels that should run under the wall, next to the bombed metro tunnels. With you as a lookout, the three of them try two before getting lucky in the third one. It’s relatively undamaged, free from infected and leads straight to the 116th street Metro station in East Harlem. The entrance to the metro is blocked off but it doesn’t take the three guys long to clear a narrow passageway that they can easily hide from the outside.

A few days is also spent clearing two more ways in and out of the QZ. Pope has told you about how he’d learnt the hard way to never just have one route. Early on in Franklin the tunnel he’d used had collapsed while he was outside the QZ. He was trapped with no way back in so he had to crawl through the rubble of the collapsed tunnel, narrowly escaping two runners, who came through from a broken wall. Pope was flippant about the way he told the story, making you laugh, but he also told you he’d never been that close to death before or since, even in the army. It was a sober reminder to always have an escape route and he was adamant about having at least two back ups.

Finding connections takes a bit longer, building trust isn’t easy in the best of times, and these are not the best of times. But not surprisingly, it’s Benny who brings in the first real trade and solid connection for future deals. He meets an older man at one of the odd jobs he takes, clearing one of the streets, a rough and far too heavy job for the older man. Benny, in his usual manner, helps the man get through the day so that he can collect the ration cards he sorely needs. Grateful, the man tells Benny he has a sister who lives up in New Haven who sails down to Orchard Beach and trades in a number of things.

“She and her husband can get you almost anything you need, just place an order with The Captain’s gang and they’ll sort it.”

“What if I wanna trade directly with them? I can go out there on my own if I have to.” Benny asks and the old man hesitates, but Benny’s good natured charm serves him well and a few days later he has a time and a place to meet the old man’s sister.

The sister’s name is Jodie Graham, her brother contacts her via one of the two non-FEDRA radio centers set up, and vouches for Benny and his friends and the four of you set out for your first trade. It takes you only half a day to get to Orchard Beach, despite it being slow going in the bombed and ravaged terrain. The trade goes well, Jodie and her husband Damon seem relieved to see a woman together with the three big men flanking you. Despite their best efforts at looking non-threatening, they fail as they approach. Guns at their sides and heavy boots, they look very much like the ex Special Ops soldiers they are. It’s clear that it’s only her brother’s word that lets the four of you approach the boat they’ve come in on.

You don’t have much to trade with them yet but this first time feels mainly like a show of good faith.

“Any prescription drugs you can trade with us, we’ll be interested,” Jodie says, “that’s something we can’t seem to get from other smugglers. And the other New Yorkers, the ones who work for The Captain, they’re always reluctant to trade it.”

“Why?” you ask, you’ve been doing most of the talking, it felt natural when Jodie seemed to trust you more than the three men behind you.

“A misplaced sort of moral it seemed like,” Jodie scoffed, “as if anyone cares about drug addictions today, seems like one of the nicer ways to go.” She takes the bag of coffee beans you’ve handed her, “They won’t trade them, but I’ve got plenty of people who want them, so if you get your hands on any, we’ll pay very well for them.”

“I’ll see what we can do, we haven’t got any at the moment,” you say, keeping your tone non-committal. You already know you won’t be trading any drugs, it was a line Pope had drawn in the sand early on. One you wouldn’t be prepared to cross with Frankie’s history either. But it spiked your interest about the rival New York gang, maybe it was a common ground you could start with, some sort of honor among thieves, or smugglers in your case.

“Any supplies you need for your ship?” you ask, “We might be able to get you extra gear for it, there’s plenty of boat clubs around Manhattan and most of the supplies in them aren’t of much use to anyone without a boat.”

“Yeah, any sail cloth you can find, and rope,” Jodie says and you make a note in your book to search around the Manhattan coastline before the next trade.

Once you’ve agreed on when to connect again on the radio, the four of you make your way back towards Manhattan. By the time you get back to the apartments it’s late but you’re all in a good mood, the day has been a success.

You do four more trades with Jodie and Damon, filling your backpacks with an assortment of goods each trade, before the first hint of trouble crops up. Jodie’s the one who gives you the heads up.

“I like trading with you guys, you’re punctual, well prepared, and never give me grief, so I’m gonna warn you,” she says while Benny and Pope fill the packs with wares. Frankie and you are standing guard, keeping an eye on the beach. “The other guys, The Captain’s gang, they’ve noticed that someone’s taking customers, and they’re not happy.”

“You still trade with them?” Benny asks and Jodie nods.

“Yeah, of course, I’ll trade with anyone who’s fair, and they’ve been doing this for years now, always been decent. They had a slump but they were out here a couple of weeks ago.”

“Did you tell them about us?” Pope asks, glancing up at Jodie, unable to hide his annoyance and she scowls at him.

“I’m not stupid, I didn’t say anything. But they asked, didn’t they? Asked if I’d been approached by another gang and I said no.”

Pope closes his backpack and looks over at Frankie and you, you’re both still facing away from the ocean, but obviously listening to what Jodie’s saying.

“Did they say how they know there’s someone else?” you ask over your shoulder.

“One of your customers didn’t want what they usually trade, said they had another source.”

“Fucking idiot,” you hear Frankie say under his breath and you have to agree. You’d asked all your customers to be discreet. Your excuse being that you didn’t want FEDRA to find out, but you also wanted to keep things low key until you were established enough to have a good deal to offer The Captain. The last thing you needed was a gang war, fighting over territory.

“Thanks for the heads up, Jodie,” Benny says, hoisting his bag up onto his back.

“Watch your backs, they seem pretty pissed,” she gives the four of you a final wave as you turn back towards the city.

Jodie’s warning makes you extra cautious when you leave the QZ, but you didn’t expect them to find you inside the QZ. Benny makes the door frame rattle as he slams the front door to the apartment as he and Frankie come in. You and Pope jump to your feet from the couch at the sight of the two men.

“What happened?” you gasp, gently taking Frankie’s chin in your hand and tilting it up so that you can get a better lock at the gash over his eyebrow.

“We got fucking jumped,” Frankie growls, wincing as you brush hair from his forehead, it’s got stuck in the dried blood that’s smeared across his face.

“The Captain’s gang,” Benny expands, “must’ve followed us into that warehouse down by the high line we were planning on checking out. Five of them, think I lost a fucking tooth,” he grimaces and grabs his jaw.

Pope’s peeled off to the bathroom and now he returns with the first aid kit, pointing both men to the couch.

“They even said, and I shit you not, ‘regards from The Captain’ before they attacked, like we’re in fucking West Side Story or something,” Benny snorts, wincing when the movement makes blood drip from his split lip.

“Any internal injuries?” you ask Frankie as you help him take his jacket and holster off, he’s grimacing as his shoulder twists.

“No, I don’t think so, they got a couple of good hits in, but that was it. One guy slammed me shoulder first into a wall, but I didn’t dislocate it.”

“Please tell me you took care of these fuckers,” Pope growls while you grab alcohol and gauze to clean Frankie’s cut.

“One got a way, which is good I suppose, sends a warning to the others,” Benny says, “the other four we eliminated.”

“Gun fight?” Pope asks and Benny nods.

“We had to-fuck! Be careful!” he yelps when Pope prods a cut on his forearm. “I want her to do it,” he points to you, “better bedside manner.”

“Just shut up and tell us what happened,” Pope says, rolling his eyes at Benny’s wincing.

“We had to run,” Frankie says, “Only one of them had a gun, which was lucky, but a FEDRA patrol obviously heard the shots and we had to bolt. Didn’t even get a chance to get a good look at the warehouse or what they’d were carrying.”

“How did they know it was you?” you ask, “It’s worrying if they know what we look like, we won’t be safe in the QZ.”

“Someone we traded with must’ve told them, Benny does stick out, easy to recognise.” Pope holds up his hands apologetically when Benny protests, “sorry, but it’s true, you’re a huge blonde dude, not many guys are built like you.”

“We’ve got a trade in three days, outside the QZ,” you remind them, “we’ll have to be extra careful, this is a new trade too, it could be a set up.”

“You wanna cancel?” Frankie grabs your hand as it comes down from his forehead, his eyebrows knitted together in that familiar worried look. Glancing over at Benny and Pope you think it over, if you said you wanna cancel it you know they’d go with it, somehow you’ve become the one who says yes or no on a trade, trusting your gut instinct implicitly.

“No, this connection came from Jodie, I can’t see her setting us up,” you decide eventually, “but maybe we take a different route this time?”

“Sounds like a smart idea,” Pope agrees, “I’ll have a look at the map.”

You turn back to Frankie and clean up his knuckles, they’ve split where he’s hit someone, and place bandaids on the larger cuts. When you’re done he wraps his bandaged arm around your waist and pulls you closer on the couch, enough for him to bury his face into the crook of your neck. You can feel him inhaling deeply as his hand fists the back of your shirt and you dip your nose to his soft curls, sweaty and kinda dusty smelling from the day.

“I’m glad you came back in one piece, Frankie,” you mumble and he nods against your neck, pulling you tighter. He doesn’t have to say anything, you know why he does it, a silent thank you offered to the universe for letting him return home to you one more time.

One of the first things you traded Jodie for, in exchange for a large, brand new sail, were two walkie talkies. Battery powered, they were invaluable if you needed to split up. And today, with the new trade going down, they served their purpose. And in light of the new situation with the rival smugglers, Pope led you all out of a different tunnel, a detour, but worth it to minimize the risk, and bringing you out at 125th Street Station. You were meeting your new contacts at a nearby park down by the river and since your first meeting with Jodie you’d worked out a system where one of you stayed behind and kept watch from afar. Pope knew the city best and he would suggest a spot for a trade where he knew there’d be a good vantage point for someone to keep an eye on things. This morning youcame out early to the meet up point, taking time to make sure the lookout point was clear before the three men left you up there with one of the walkie talkies and a rifle. You weren’t the best shot, but you didn’t really need to be. So far everything trade had been smooth, but if things did go bad, a few shots from a hidden sniper would make anyone run for cover, whether or not you hit them. But the real advantage was that you were able to give the guys a bird’s eye view of the area and a head’s up if something seemed off, your gut instinct serving you well.

This morning all of you were on edge, the attack on Frankie and Benny making you extra nervous. It was difficult to say if it was the knowledge that The Captain’s gang was after you that made you jumpy, or if something was wrong with the trade. You’re splayed flat on your belly at the edge of a broken window in the half bombed out apartment tower, using the scope on the rifle in place of binoculars, those being next on your list of things you were hoping to trade Jodie for. Nothing stirs in the wide open park next to the river and when you scan the streets you can see from your perch, everything is quiet. You watch the three men make their way down a street and into the park, disappearing briefly from view before they reach the agreed upon location. In the distance, on the other side of the park, you see two men walking across and you relay what you see to Frankie, he’s got the other radio today.

The trade goes off without a hitch and you watch as the two men retreat across the park, back towards the small White Plains QZ that’s up north. It’s when you swing the scope back towards Frankie and the others that you see it. Three men crouching behind a car further down the street your guys are walking down. Fumbling for the radio you hit the button.

“Catfish, three men hidden behind a white SUV about a block and half down the street. Over.”

“Copy that, Jefa.”

Jefa… The call sign they’d given you still made you roll your eyes, and was only ever allowed to be used in situations when your real name shouldn’t be used. It had been Pope’s idea, of course, but Benny loved it and Frankie conceded that he couldn’t call you ‘cariño’ over the radio or in front of traders. So Jefa, boss, it was.

You didn’t feel very bosslike as you watched them slowly walk down the street, you could see Frankie telling them about the three men. At the next crossing they turned down a side street and you lost sight of them.

“Jefa, we’re going to flank them, let me know if they move. Over” Frankie’s voice came over on the radio almost as soon as they disappeared from view, you could hear them running along the street.

“Ok, I’ve got eyes on them, they’re still stationary. Over.”

Frankie clicks the button on the radio and follows Pope’s back down the street, Benny close behind. There’s a small neighborhood park, a ballpark only really, at the back of the block and they cut across it, quickly covering two blocks parallel to the main street they were on. It’s only a few minutes before they turn back towards the street again and they slow down, moving silently. They come out just below the black SUV, expecting to see the three men but the street is empty.

Frankie brings up the radio, “Jefa, come in, did they move? We can’t see them. Over.” He clicks the receive button and waits for a response while Pope and Benny quickly scan the street.

“Jefa, come in, do you copy? Over.” Only static comes back over the radio and lead drops into his belly. His eyes meet Pope’s at the same time as the realization hits, decoy. Benny curses under his breath and looks towards the tower, while Frankie tries the radio one more time, already starting to run towards the building.

“Loop the chain around it, it’ll hold her,” the voice comes from far away as you blink your eyes open in the darkness. “The captain’s gonna see her when he gets back.” The voice, a grumpy sounding man’s voice, retreats and you hear a door closing and locking. The back of your head hurts, as does the side of your face and the side of your ribs.

You’d heard them just a couple of seconds before they were on you, in the tower, someone’s shoe scuffed against the floor and you turned, but you weren’t fast enough to get off the floor. As you blink again, trying to shake the darkness around you, you feel the handcuffs around your wrists, and a chain rattles. It takes a few more seconds before you realize you’ve got a hood over your head, the scratchy material making your nose itch. The world is tilted sideways and it takes you a few tries to get upright, the handcuffs are tight behind your back. You wobble, almost tipping backwards, but a wall stops you from falling and you gratefully lean against it, trying to collect your thoughts, stopping the panic from rising in your throat.

Breath, in and out, stay calm, always number one, stay calm. Fuck, easier said than done, Frankie.

Focusing on your breathing, mentally going through your body to check for any serious injuries, you suppress the panic to the pit of your stomach, making you feel nauseous but it’s manageable. For now.

You don’t know how long you’re left sitting on the floor, you really need to pee, so it’s probably a pretty long time. When the door finally opens you’re stiff, hungry, pissed off and not happy about the rough hands that suddenly yank you off the floor. It takes all your willpower to not snap at whoever is shoving you through the door, a hard grip on your shoulder, an equal measure of anger and fear making your legs jellylike.

The air feels raw and it smells like you’re in a basement, being taken down a hallway, up some stairs and into a warmer room. Through the tight weave of the hood you see the light change, this room is brighter than the room downstairs that you were kept in, and it smells like food, making your stomach grumble

“This the lookout?” a man asks from behind you.

“Yeah, she was right where you said they’d put someone, perfect view of the park. Had a rifle and a radio.”

“Nothing if not predictable,” the first man says, as he moves through the room, you hear the springs of a couch or chair squeak as he sits down. “Who are you working for?” he asks.

It takes you a few seconds to respond, something is triggering at the back of your mind, the rough, low cadence, the accent so familiar.

“I don’t work for anyone,” you reply eventually, “I was just asked to be a lookout for a few hours, easy ration cards.” It’s a weak lie, but you’re not about to give them any more information than they obviously already have and your answer seems to have given the man food for thought as he doesn’t reply straight away.

“Let’s show her some good faith,” he says, talking to someone else in the room, “Get some water and some of the leftover rice.” There’s a word of protest from behind you but he cuts them off, “What’s she gonna do? She’s handcuffed and hooded, let’s treat her nice.”

The door opens and closes as someone leaves. The man left in the room gets off the couch and comes over to you, you flinch as you feel his hand grab the hood. He pulls it off and you blink against the sudden bright light.

“Holy shit, it is you…” the man whispers and as you see his blue eyes it hits you, the voice, the cadence, William Miller.

You lose your voice as tears well up in your eyes and Will puts his hand on your cheek, partly checking the cut you most likely have there, but also almost checking to see if you’re real. And you could ask the same of him, if your voice wasn’t cut off by a sob. His smile is watery too and he makes you stumble as he suddenly pulls you into a bear hug, so reminiscent of his brother’s hugs.

“I can’t believe it’s you, you’re here, how the fuck are you here?” he asks incredulously, pulling back from you and you grin, trying to swallow down another sob.

“I’m with Benny,” you choke out, “And Frankie and Pope.”

“Benny’s alive?” Will eyes go wide, he’s holding on to you with both hands on your arms, “he’s here in New York?”

“He was with me this morning. They all were and- “ you’re cut off by the sound of boots in the hallway and Will throws the hood over your head again. “You don’t know me,” he hisses before stepping back and you’re left confused as the door opens again.

“We’ll take her down again, let her eat, and then I’m sure we’ll be able to come to an agreement,” Will says, his voice sounding rough again, giving an order to the other man. Will’s hand takes hold of your arm, turning you around and you’re marched back the way you came, downstairs and into the damp smelling room.

“Take off her cuffs, chain her to the radiator, so that she can eat.” Will leaves you standing in the middle of the room but before he lets go and leaves, he gives your arm a quick squeeze. The other man locks a chain around your ankle and removes your handcuffs, leaving the hood on while he leaves the room.

It’s good that he does because you don’t think you’d be able to contain the grin on your face. Will is alive! William fucking Miller, alive and well in New York! And a smuggler…that thought hits you like a brick, Will is a smuggler, and Benny, Frankie and Pope have been taking out his guys, his friends. And Will caught onto that faster than you did, that’s why he put the hood back on. Whoever the other guys are, they won’t forgive you or the guys for stomping in on their territory and killing their guys. Even if it is Will’s brother. And Will knows that.

“This could get really fucking messy,” you whisper under your breath as you pull off the hood and sink down on the floor again.

Again you’re left on your own for several hours, the sun moves outside the small window high up on the wall, sinking low before it goes dark outside. Your thoughts keep flitting between joy at Will being alive and how happy the others will be when they find out, and worry about your three guys, Frankie especially. You know they’ll be in the process of tearing up the city to find you, putting their considerable talents to use to force information from anyone who might have some.

There’s a bare bulb in the room and at some point someone turns it on, casting yellow light over you. More hours pass and you start to wonder if you’ve been forgotten down here, or if something’s happened to Will. You’re also half expecting Frankie and the guys to burst in, guns blazing, in some wild rescue mission. Falling asleep is impossible, you’re too anxious, so when you finally hear footsteps outside the door, you’re already on your feet. The door opens and Will steps in, closing it softly behind him. A few quick steps and he envelops you in another bear hug, longer this time, and you can finally put your own arms around him too. He’s just as big and imposing as the last time you saw him, almost six years ago, a little bit more tired around the eyes, a few more silver strands in the blonde hair and you give yourself a few seconds to just enjoy the fact that he’s alive and here. He seems to do the same, holding on to you for a long minute before he finally lets go and steps back.

“It’s so good to see you, Will! I kept thinking it was a dream all day, but you’re actually here,” you say, grinning down at him as he crouches to unlock the chain around your ankle.

“Same, I kept thinking I was being delusional,” he chuckles softly and stands up, “When I heard your voice under the hood, I immediately thought of Frankie, that’s how I knew it was you.”

“You were faster than I was, I heard your accent and I couldn’t figure out who it reminded me of,” you smile, poking his chest just to make sure he’s real again. “You look good, Miller!”

He smiles but it drops off his face as something hits him, “You said you’re with Frankie, Pope and Benny?”

“Yeah, we got to New York a few weeks ago.”

“And Hannah?”

His question hits you like a punch to the gut, you can’t stop tears welling up in your eyes, you have to shake your head and drop your eyes, you can��t look at him as the realization sinks in.

“Do you know what happened?” he asks, his voice low and you force yourself to nod, the image of Hannah in Benny’s arms flooding your mind as you feel tears run down your cheeks. Will suddenly pulls you into a hug and you press your face to his chest. He’s holding you almost too tight, and you hear him inhale deeply, a long, ragged intake of breath, before he exhales and lets go of you.

“Tell me later, when you can tell me everything. I need to get you out of here now,” his voice is rough but determined, “I want you back with Frankie before he kicks down my door with a shotgun.”

“Yeah, probably a good idea,” you reply, your voice shaky but you swallow down the tears, hastily wiping your cheeks as Will goes for the door. Making sure the coast is clear he waves you forward and silently you make your way down the hall and up the stairs. It looks as if you’re in an old office of sorts, long hallways, conference rooms on the sides. The place is dark, only the dim light from the outside comes through in places, but Will knows his way. He leads you to what looks like a backdoor.

“I can’t leave, it’ll raise too many questions,” he says when the two of you reach the door. “Where do you live? I’ll come find you guys tomorrow.”

He opens the door and glances outside, stepping out a second later. You hear a door behind you open as you follow Will out, and Will grabs your arm, pulling you out fast.

“What the fuck?!” comes an angry, gruff voice, “What the fuck is going on, captain?”

“Nothing, Conway,” Will says quickly, “Go back to your shift, our guest wasn’t feeling well, I’m taking her out for some air.”

The man looks you up and down and back to Will, he’s got his hand on your arm, still holding the door open and you’re frozen, staring at the man.

“Where are her fucking handcuffs?” He takes a few steps towards the door and Will squeezes your arm, and you take a step back.

“Turn around, Conway, and go back to your shift, that’s an order, I’ve got her.” Will’s voice is solid, clearly in command, but it doesn’t work on the man .

“You’re either about to fuck her or let her go,” he says, another step towards the door, “and if you’re doing the first, I want in,” he leers at you, “If you’re doing the second, then we’ve got a big fucking problem, captain.”

“I’m just letting her get some air, now turn around and walk away, Conway.”

“She’s got air now, so bring her back in then,” he challenges, he’s at the threshold now, only a step away from Will.

“Conway,” Will says, taking half a step back and glancing back at you, “You really should know when to walk away.” The punch comes out of nowhere, Will swings and hits Conway’s jaw with a sharp crack and the man drops, his head making a nasty thud on the floor just inside the door. Will shakes out his fist and bends to grab the man’s limp body. “Get the top of that dumpster,” he says, motioning further down the alley, and you run over, pushing the lid back as Will grabs the man and tosses him over his shoulder. Whatever happened to Will in the past six years, it certainly hadn’t impacted his brute physical strength, he barely makes a noise as he hoists the man into the metal container and you slide the lid shut.

“Ok, wait at the end of the alley, stay out of sight. If I’m not back in five, go home, I’ll find you there.”

You nod and make your way over as Will disappears inside the building again. You wait anxiously in the shadows by the street but it doesn’t take long for Will to come back out. This time he’s got a jacket on, a backpack and your own backpack, gratefully you take it from him and the rifle he hands you.

“Let’s go,” he says, stepping out into the street.

“Are you leaving them?” you ask in a whisper as you follow him, nodding at the backpack and his gear.

“Yeah, I’ll tell you more later but it’s been coming on for a while, I’ve been wanting to punch Conway for months.” Will pulls a disgruntled face as you hurry through the quiet streets. There’s a curfew in effect as usual and you stay in the small alleys, hurrying across any avenues. You’re pretty far from the Upper West Side and it takes you over an hour to make your way back, Will telling you bits and pieces of what’s been going on while you duck in and out of shadows.

“I got reports a few hours ago, the guys took out four more of my guys, they’re trying to find you”, Will says as you skirt around Central Park.

“We were taking out your guys, Will,” you say, “Aren’t you pissed at us? We basically came in and started taking over your business.”

“Not pissed, just annoyed,” Will looks over at you and shrugs, “you did what I’ve done many times over, I have no right to be mad at anyone coming in and trying to take over the smuggling. I did the same thing, only I was successful. And since then, there’s been several attempts at trying to take over from me.” Will gives a low chuckle, “I’ve got to say, no one has come as close as you guys, you put a real dent in my operation, I was getting worried. The fucking irony of it being you and the guys, my own fucking baby brother.”

You can’t help but smile, Will has a point, the guys had used their Delta Force tactics against the one person who really would know how to counter them. That’s how Will had known there’d be someone in the apartment tower.

“And now they’re trying to find you, and I can’t blame them,” Will says as you stop and crouch, waiting for a FEDRA patrol to drive past. “I wouldn’t wanna get between Frankie and you. I’m assuming he’s as crazy about you as always?” Even in the dim light you can see Will’s smile.

“We got married,” you say, holding up your left hand, “not in a ceremony of anything, just registered as husband and wife with FEDRA.”

“Congratulations,” Will grins, “but I have to say, kinda disappointed I wasn’t invited to the wedding.”

“Dumbass,” you smile at him and he chuckles silently, “c’mon, the apartment is just down this street.”

You see dim lights on in the building as you approach. “We’ll check at Benny and Pope’s place first, they might all be there,” you say as you let the two of you into the brownstone. Will only nods and you wonder what kind of emotions are running through his head, only minutes away from seeing his baby brother for the first time in almost six years.

You give a low knock on the front door and by the speed it’s opened, you know they weren’t sleeping. Pope yanks the door open, he must’ve looked through the peephole because he grabs you and hugs you before you even have time to react, he doesn’t even notice Will standing slightly to the side behind you.

“Pope,” you protest weakly, “I’ve brought someone, get Benny.” You feel Pope’s arms fall from you and as you look up you catch the look on his face as he spots Will.

“Dios mío…” he breathes and Will grins as Pope looks as if he’s seen a ghost.

“Who is it?” you hear Benny call from inside and you quickly grab Will and pull him inside the door, forcing Pope to back up so that you can close the door. This is going to get noisy.

“Benny!” Pope shouts, stepping forward and grabbing Will into a hug, “you’re never fucking gonna believe who it is!”

“Who?” Benny calls back from the kitchen, he sounds tired and annoyed as he steps out, Frankie behind him, looking even worse than Benny sounds.

It takes Benny several seconds to register who he’s looking at, the two men staring at each other across the room until Will moves, stepping away from Pope and grabbing Benny.

“Come here, baby bro,” he chokes as Benny throws his arms around him, a strangled growl coming from his throat.

“How?” Benny splutters, his face buried in his brother’s shoulder, “How and how the fuck!?” He pulls away, grabbing Will’s face between his hands, “Where the fuck have you been?!”

“I could ask the same of you,” Will chuckles, his voice thick with emotions as he seems to just take in the sight of Benny’s face. “It’s good to see you again, baby bro, I didn’t think I would.”

“I never gave up on you,” Benny says, grabbing Will into a hug again, “I never fucking gave up on you.”

You put your arms out to Frankie as you see him and he’s on you with a few long steps, pulling you into his arms, his lips finding yours in an instant.

“We’ve been looking for you all over the city,” he mumbles, pulling back a little to run his thumb gently over the cut on your cheek.

“I know, and we have a lot of catching up to do,” you reply as his hands tugs you closer to him, his nose bumping against yours.

“Fish, give me a hug, I got your wife back for you,” Will says, letting go of Benny and enveloping both you and Frankie in a hug, Frankie grabs his shoulder and they bump their foreheads together.

“I owe you everything, brother,” Frankie says, locking eyes with Will, “It’s so fucking good to see you, you’ve got to tell us everything.”

It’s a long story and Will tells it as Pope makes coffee and Frankie cleans your cuts.

“From the beginning?” Will asks, and Benny nods.

“Yeah, from the beginning, outbreak day, what happened to you? I went to your office, it went up in flames.”

“When it all started going crazy, my phone died, I couldn’t get hold of any of you and I was thinking I’d just stay put in the office until it calmed down,” Will sinks down on the couch next to Benny, "But then the coffee shop, the one on the first floor, caught fire and we all got told to leave. It was chaos on the street outside and I tried getting behind the building to stay out of sight. But then I saw Emma, you know the barista you always used to flirt with Ben?” Ben nods and Will continues, “I saw her through the window, she got trapped by the fire, behind the counter so I had to get her out, got the back door open and managed to pull her out. But I think something collapsed, I don’t remember too well. All I know it hurt like a bitch and then I woke up in a triage tent somewhere, I got pretty badly burnt.” Will pulls up the sleeve of his t-shirt and shows the painful looking scarring on his shoulder.

“Fuck, that looks gnarly,” Ben says, leaning forward and running his fingers over his brother’s skin

“It goes down my back too, took fucking forever to heal.” Will lets his shirt drop back down, “They were gonna leave me in the local medical camp but I got lucky, you guys remember Colonel Middleton?” He looks over at Frankie and Pope who both nod.

“Yeah, from that fuck up in Yemen,” Pope says, “worst fucking officer I’ve ever met.”

“Well, he came through for me, he got me on a chopper to D.C, they had a burn unit still up and running there, military only. I was out of it for the most part but they patched me up. By the time I was able to stand up without the skin on my back falling off, it had all gone to shit. QZ:s going up everywhere, all the major cities bombed, including Arlington and D.C.”

He leans forward and puts his elbows on his knees, looking at Pope, Frankie and you, “I tried finding you guys, but I couldn’t get back to Arlington and then Middleton offered to get me to NYC, help rebuild. I…” Will’s head drops down, “I needed a distraction, a purpose, to keep going…” He turns his head and looks back at Benny who’s grabbed his arm, “I’m sorry, Benny, I should’ve looked harder for you, and for Hannah.”

At the mention of Hannah’s name, Benny shrinks, the big man visibly sinking lower in his seat as his eyes go dark, it makes your heart ache and you feel Frankie take your hand, squeezing it tight.

“I know she didn’t make it, Benny,” Will says, “it’s ok, I knew it was a long shot to hope that she was still alive. I just wanna know how she died.”

Benny’s jaw goes tight and you feel tears pressing up hot in your eyes, Pope’s exhaling slowly behind you and the silence seems to stretch indefinitely.

“Things in Arlington got bad,” you hear Frankie say, he’s looking at Benny who can’t seem to take his eyes off his shoes, “There was this guy, head of FEDRA there, who got power hungry. He had men around him who kept him in power thanks to the favors they got from him.Things started rumbling and Hannah got caught up in it, defending a kid.” Frankie stops and shakes his head, he’s struggling and he looks at you for help but Benny speaks up.

“She got taken to FEDRA lock up, Will,” Benny’s eyes are back on his brother, “and they killed her,” a sob racks his chest, a sharp inhale and Will’s arm goes around him, you can see his knuckles white from the grip on Benny’s shoulder.

“But we got them, we killed the ones who did it, Will, and I, we all, put her to rest, she wasn’t alone and I said goodbye for you too, I said goodbye for us both. I made sure she knew.”

Benny’s shoulders shake and you know he sees in his mind the same as you, Hannah’s body, just before Frankie and Pope wrapped her, bent over her face, whispering into her ear, before carrying her to the fire.

Frankie’s arm pulls you into his chest as the sobs overtake you, Santi pulling you both in closer as Will seems to have a battle raging inside him.

“You got them?” he asks quietly.

“Yeah, we got them all,” Pope says, his voice rough.

“Ok.”

Will’s head remains low between his shoulders for several long minutes, Benny inhales deeply and Will looks over at him.

“I know you took care of her, Benny, I’m grateful it was you.” He sighs and drags both hands over his face, rough stubble scraping against his palms, “I need air, I need to process, I’ll be back in a bit.”

“I’m coming’ with you,” Benny says, standing up at the same time as his brother, and Will nods, his jaw still tight.

“I’ll see you guys in the morning, alright?” he nods to the three of you, still on the couch.

After Will and Benny have left, you slump back against Frankie, you feel drained. It’s early morning, and the stress of the day is finally catching up with you. Frankie senses your fatigue and gently pushes you up off the couch.

“C’mon, hermosa, time to sleep,” he says, wrapping his arm around your waist to hold you steady against him.

“Sleep well, Santi,” you say and he nods, he looks drained too.

“Sleep well, hermana, let Frankie spoil you, ok?”

“I always do,” Frankie replies and leads you out the door.

Back in your own apartment you pull your clothes off and collapse on the bed, not even bothering to wash off. Frankie falls into bed next to you, tugging you tight against his chest, his arm as your pillow.

“You scared me,” he whispers, lips pressed against your forehead.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble back, “I knew you were looking for me though,” your nose buried in his sparse chest hair, tickling you as you speak. He’s tugging the covers up over you both and you tangle your legs with his.

“I’d never stop looking, cariño, you know that, right?” He’s got his arms properly wrapped around you now, his nose skimming over your cheek in the darkness, you can feel his lips brush over yours as you turn your face up towards him.

“I know, I’d never stop looking for you either, Frankie,” you whisper, finding his soft mouth and sinking into his kiss. It’s slow, warm and calm, letting you close your eyes and relax against him, his warm breath against your cheek as he pulls away and lets you fall asleep.

Chapter 27

Taglist: @pimosworld @i-own-loki @casa-boiardi @littlenosoul @stormseyer @mxtokko @javicstories @nunya7394 @welcometothepedroverse @harriedandharassed @meveispunk @hiroikegawa @jwritesfanfics

#the pilot and his girl #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #pedro pascal #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales fanfic #the last of us #frankie morales fluff #the last of us fanfiction #frankie morales x you #pedro pascal character fanfiction #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x fem!reader #frankie morales smut #frankie morales angst

128 notes · View notes