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vexedtonightmares · 4 years

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with great power (elu spiderman au) - the final chapter

eliott has been saved by spiderman quite a few times for absolutely no reason. hopeless romantic that he is, eliott accidentally starts falling for spiderman somewhere along the way and doesn’t know what to do about it. obviously, there’s only one solution. he and his good friend lucas should pretend to date to make spiderman jealous. there’s no ulterior motives here, of course, just lucas helping a bro out.

aka eliott’s falling in love with spiderman, lucas is in love with eliott, and lucas is spiderman.

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

ao3

no. 11 “I never wanted you to get hurt.”

**tw: mentions of violence, very brief allusions to abuse, gun use, mentions of bipolar disorder (particularly in reference to depressive episodes)**

Watching Lucas in the pale morning light was one of life’s small moments of magic. Sure, it wasn’t magic in the same way as Lucas having super strength and whatnot, but it was magic all the same. His face was buried deep into his pillow, drool slipping out from the corner of his mouth and hair askew, but Eliott had never thought he was more beautiful.

It was rare for Eliott to wake up first of the two, but he knew that Lucas needed the sleep. The two of them had been through quite the ordeal, and sure, a little sleep couldn’t cure it all, but it was a good place to start.

He was tempted to go down to the bakery on the corner and grab some fresh pastries for the two of them, but he didn’t want Lucas to wake up alone. Neither of them would be alone ever again, if Eliott had any say in the matter.

Minutes stretched on but Eliott found that he didn’t mind the simple silence, Lucas’ breaths heard lightly as they ruffled the hair that had fallen across his face. If they could stay exactly like that forever, Eliott would have been the luckiest man alive. He already was, just to have Lucas in bed beside him, sleeping more comfortably than he ever had done before. Their relationship may have had its ups and downs so far, and Eliott was sure there were more to come, but as long as Lucas could sleep peacefully by his side, he knew that everything would be ok.

Lucas’ eyes blinked open gently, bright blues adjusting to the light. When his eyes landed on Eliott’s soft, smiling face, he heaved a sigh of relief. “You’re here.”

“I’m here,” Eliott agreed.

“And you’re safe,” Lucas continued, “Alive.”

Eliott gently brushed hair from Lucas’ field of vision, twirling the silky strands between his fingers. “Thanks to you.”

Lucas’ face darkened and he turned away from Eliott, breathing stuttering. “Don’t, please.”

“L—” Eliott began, reaching a hand out, but Lucas shook his head.

“I— I know what we talked about last night, but I’m not ready to act like a hero yet. Is that ok?” He turned his head, eyes searching Eliott’s face with a wide, pleading expression.

Eliott nodded, folding their hands together. “Of course. Spiderman who?”

Lucas laughed weakly, squeezing Eliott’s hand gently. “You’re a dumbass, do you know that?”

“I’ve been told on many occasions,” Eliott conceded, “Good thing we’ve already determined that I’m your dumbass.”

“My dumbass indeed,” Lucas agreed, grabbing Eliott by the chin and pulling him into a kiss. Eliott dipped his head back and Lucas whined, leaning in closer to him.

“You have morning breath,” Eliott said wrinkling his nose. In all honesty, he didn’t care one bit, but he did love seeing Lucas’ fake offended face.

“You do too!”

Eliott shook his head, smiling a toothy grin that he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to wear again. Leave it to Lucas to bring out the best in him time and time again. “My superpower is not having morning breath.”

Lucas snorted. “Well, it’s clearly a shitty superpower, because it’s not working.”

Eliott scoffed in faux indignation, leaning over and engaging Lucas in a tickle fight. Lucas squeaked in surprise, mischievous grin adorning his lips as he tickled Eliott back, grin turning into wild laughter. Eliott would have bottled the sound if he could, just to have on the days laughter felt like a distant memory.

Lucas must have noticed that Eliott had ceded the battle, even though he was the one who’d started it, and he flopped back onto the pillow with a soft breath. “We have to face the real world at some point, don’t we?”

“Unfortunately,” Eliott sighed, looking up at the ceiling. The curtains were only letting in a small stripe of light, and he followed it with his eyes. “What are you going to tell Manon, Mika, and Lisa?”

“I don’t know,” Lucas admitted. “Knowing everything will put them in more danger, but I don’t know how I’ll explain it without telling the truth.”

Eliott understood that, and he agreed. “I can try to come up with some excuse, if you want,” he offered.

Lucas smiled minutely, but shook his head. “I have to tell them, I know I do. And if they kick me out, it’s probably for the best anyway.”

“They’re not going to kick you out, L,” Eliott reassured him, turning on his side, “They just might need a little time. Doesn’t mean they love you any less.”

“Yeah…” Lucas said, but Eliott could tell he didn’t actually agree. Eliott felt a pang of guilt at the fact that his reaction was the only one Lucas had to go off of at that point, so he’d be expecting the worst from everybody.

“Hey, they’re much better people than I am,” Eliott said, trying to sound like he was joking but failing. “They’ll be there for you, ok? And if they aren’t, I’ll kick their asses.”

Lucas turned onto his side as well. “You’re not a bad person for reacting the way you did.”

“I just hate that it’s made you question your other relationships, think that they’ll abandon you like I did.” Eliott looked at the sheets between them, running his fingers in small circles to distract himself.

Lucas grabbed his hand. “You didn’t abandon me. You came back. Or, you would have, had you not been kidnapped and whatever.”

“‘Kidnapped and whatever’, very eloquent,” Eliott teased.

Lucas shoved him. “Shut up, I’m trying to be sweet and genuine!”

“You don’t have to try, you just are.”

Lucas glowered at him as if daring him to interrupt again. Sweet and genuine was clearly his middle name. “Anyway, it’s not you, it’s really not. You know I’ve had experience with this kind of fear, and it just seems worse with Mika, Manon, and Lisa because they’re the ones who took me in when I had nowhere to go, when I was at my lowest. It would break my heart to lose them.”

“You won’t,” Eliott said adamantly. “I promise.”

“You can’t make promises like that, you don’t know—”

“I promise,” Eliott repeated.

Lucas looked at him fondly, like he was the sun. “You’re a stubborn dumbass, aren’t you?”

“As if you didn’t know that already.”

Lucas didn’t answer, just pulled him back in for another kiss, morning breath discussions forgotten as they lost themselves in one another. Eliott wouldn’t have changed a single thing about that moment, even if he was offered all the riches in the world. No amount of money could compare to the feel of Lucas in his arms, lips meeting purposefully and passionately.

“What, do you think,” Lucas began, punctuating each statement with a small kiss, “Our parallel universe selves are doing right now?”

Eliott raised his eyebrows and leaned back a bit, unable to think with Lucas so close to him. “Lots of things, probably,” he laughed, unable to come up with an adequate answer, Lucas was still too distracting to him.

“C’mon! Think about it.” Lucas bit his bottom lip, waiting patiently for a real answer, so Eliott mulled it over more seriously, thinking about all the possibilities the world had in store for them.

“Well, in one of them Eliott and Lucas just moved in together. It’s Eliott’s first year of uni, Lucas’ final year of high school, and they figured it was time. Eliott had a rough adjustment at first, but he knows that Lucas will always be there for him, and that he loves him, so that’s all that really matters. I bet they’re on holiday with the gang and the crew right now too, a bunch of dumbasses rolling around in a bright orange van,” Eliott said, letting his mind drift. He definitely wasn’t projecting some of his wishes onto their parallel selves, definitely not.

“Moving in together, huh?” Lucas asked cheekily, and Eliott could hear his grin, even though his eyes were squeezed shut.

“Shut up,” Eliott said, Please don’t, he meant. “What do you think they’re doing, then?”

“Have I told you about ballet elu yet?” Lucas asked excitedly, and Eliott peeked one eye open warily.

“Ballet elu?”

“Elu, Eliott and Lucas, keep up!” Lucas said dramatically, resting his head on Eliott’s shoulder and wrapping their legs up together. “Anyway, these versions of us dance at the Paris Opera Ballet School, or something, but they’re the same age—”

“Is that how parallel universes work?” Eliott wondered aloud, and Lucas shushed him.

“Shh, it’s my turn. Where was I? Right, they’re the same age, but they hate each other. Well, Eliott doesn’t, because how could any Eliott ever hate little old me, but Lucas does, because they had a falling out when they were kids. Something to do with ballet, or with Lucas’ shitty family, because that much stays the same in most universes too, but for what it’s worth: they’re rivals. But then! In their last year, they’re forced to room together, and they slowly start to reconcile, and fall in love, all while preparing to dance in the school’s production of Swan Lake,” Lucas finished with a flourish, looking pleased with himself.

“Did you just… write an enemies to lovers meets ‘and they were roommates’ fanfiction about us in your mind?” Eliott asked carefully, laughter threatening to burst out.

“Absolutely, yes,” Lucas confirmed, small giggles surfacing involuntarily. Eliott gave in as well, and soon the two of them were laughing thinking about the many different versions of themselves that were doing the same.

Lucas got quiet after a while and turned his head up to Eliott. “It helps, sometimes,” he continued, “To think about all the things we might be doing in other lives. To think that in some of them, Lucas’ only worry is coming out to his friends, or what he’s going to study in university. To know that somewhere out there he doesn’t have the weight of the world on his shoulders and a city to protect because he put on a stupid costume and decided he was more than the scared boy looking back at him in the mirror.”

“In the worlds I imagine,” Eliott began, “I’m not bipolar. I’m the type of person you deserve.”

“Eliott don’t say that.” Lucas’ voice was soft but determined.

“I know,” Eliott said, because he did, he’d known Lucas would argue with him from the start. “I just wish I wasn’t me, sometimes.”

Lucas scooted up closer so they were barely a breath apart. “You’re incredible. When she was making you, the sun crafted you with so much brightness that you’re still afraid of burning people, but the people you burn are the ones that deserve to be burned, the ones that don’t understand what a gift your light is.”

Eliott was nearly moved to tears. Sure, Lucas knew exactly what he needed to hear, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t entirely genuine, words like sweet poetry. Sometimes Eliott teased him about how he had the makings of an L student, and Lucas would scoff in offense until they talked about a new subject. In all actuality, Eliott thought that maybe Lucas just didn’t know how brilliant he was, a brilliance that extended to all facets of life.

“You have such a beautiful mind,” Eliott said, hoping Lucas understood the depth of the compliment.

Lucas turned bright red, looking away. “Stop.”

“Never.”

Their hands found each other again, brushes of fingertips always so nice and gentle, holding each other with the care they deserved. Lucas interlocked his pointer finger with Eliott’s.

“Well then thank you,” he said, “For always thinking the best of me.”

“I don’t, always,” Eliott admitted, but Lucas didn’t seem to mind.

“You do when it matters,” he said, and they fell into easy silence.

Eliott had no idea what time it was, though it was probably nearing noon, if it wasn’t already past then. He didn’t mind, he’d stay in bed with Lucas all day if that was what Lucas wanted.

Lucas let out a soft sigh, and Eliott could tell he was working up the nerve to say something. He brushed Lucas’ hair reassuringly, and after a moment or two, Lucas spoke up. “Will you go with me? To tell Mika, Manon, and Lisa everything?”

“Of course. They can come here, if that’s easier.” Eliott didn’t think any of them would be returning to the colloc anytime soon.

Lucas glanced up at him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Eliott nodded. Lucas smiled and leaned over to grab his phone off the nightstand.

“As much as I want to stay in here with you alone forever, I think Mika will kill me if I don’t explain what the hell is going on,” Lucas sighed, showing Eliott his lockscreen which had a total of forty two texts and twelve missed calls from Mika, and a handful of others from Manon. He snuggled in a bit closer to Eliott as he texted them, telling them to come over to Eliott’s place at their earliest convenience. Knowing Mika that meant they probably had roughly ten minutes left to themselves.

Lucas groaned and rolled over until he was off the bed, pouting at Eliott. “Stop looking so pretty,” he said.

Eliott pulled the covers up to his nose, raising his eyebrows. “I’m doing no such thing.”

“Stoooooop,” Lucas whined, huffing a breath through his nose. “You’re very cute, and this is very unfair of you. My heart can only handle so much Eliott Demaury cuteness before it goes into cardiac arrest.”

Eliott cocked his head to one side, dropping the covers. “Oh no, that won’t do. Is there any way to ensure that doesn’t happen?”

“A kiss, perhaps,” Lucas suggested, holding a hand out. Eliott rolled his eyes fondly, smile overtaking his face as he reached out, allowing Lucas to pull him closer.

Eliott was at the edge of the bed, Lucas standing above him, and Lucas’ hands were carding through his hair. He looked up at Lucas like he was the center of the universe, probably because he was the center of Eliott’s.

“I love you,” Eliott said.

“I love you too,” Lucas said.

A soft kiss, a gentle embrace, the warmth of their love nearly tangible in the air. Eliott sighed into Lucas’ mouth, wrapping his arms around his neck. “I never want to let go of you.”

Lucas broke away, shit eating grin overtaking his face, and Eliott narrowed his eyes in suspicion a moment before he was being hefted over Lucas’ shoulder. “Done!” Lucas said cheerfully, carrying him into the other room.

“L, let me down,” Eliott giggled, but Lucas just spun the two of them around.

“You’re the one who asked for this, sir,” Lucas laughed, shifting to lift Eliott above his head with both hands. Eliott froze, eyes widening.

“L, L, L, let me down, fuck, seriously!” Eliott was nearly certain Lucas was a second away from dropping him.

Lucas just laughed again. “El, you’re fine, I promise. Lifting you is like lifting a book over my head.”

Eliott briefly forgot his current distress, dropping his head down to look Lucas in the eye. “Wait, seriously?”

Lucas nodded. “Did we not already confirm I haven’t actually been working out?”

Eliott rolled his eyes. “We did, but super strength takes some getting used to, you know.”

“Uh, yeah, I do know,” Lucas said with raised eyebrows. He looked like he was about to say something else but was cut off by the door swinging open, a confused Mika, Manon, and Lisa standing in the entrance to the flat.

“Someone let us in downstairs,” Manon explained weakly, the only one not focused on the fact that Lucas was lifting Eliott over his head.

Eliott found himself being deposited to a normal standing position, Lucas leaning against the wall like they hadn’t been doing anything out of the ordinary. Mika looked back and forth between the two of them, eyebrows shot up to his hairline.

“We’re not going to talk about what the fuck that was, then?” he asked, and Eliott turned to Lucas for his reaction. Lucas was looking at the ground, nose scrunched up adorably. When he looked up at Mika, his nonchalant demeanor broke.

“I have to tell you guys something,” he said, voice little more than a whisper. Eliott stepped closer to him, grabbing his hand in a show of support. Manon, Mika, and Lisa moved further into the apartment each of their faces reflecting a mix of confusion, suspicion, and unease.

“I, um,” Lucas began, biting his thumbnail absently, eyes flitting around the room. Eliott squeezed his hand again. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes, then opening them. “I’m Spiderman.”

Mika burst into laughter, Lisa didn’t look fazed at all, and Manon widened her eyes like something was starting to make sense to her. When Mika realized Lucas wasn’t laughing with him, he faltered. “You’re serious?”

Lucas nodded, and launched into a full explanation, looking so incredibly uncomfortable, nothing like he had minutes prior, but Eliott held his hand through it all, a silent reassurance that everything would be ok. When he finished, a charged silence filled the room, one waiting to be broken, but it seemed no one could find the right words. Lucas had finished his story with the reason they were at Eliott’s place, details of his father and Chameleon and how they’d used Eliott to get to him and everything that had happened in the crossfire of it all.

Manon took a step forward, extending her arms, and Lucas collapsed into her, crying. Eliott’s heart ached to see Lucas break down like that, but Lucas didn’t need his boyfriend in that moment, he needed his family. Mika joined, then Lisa, and soon Lucas was surrounded by a pile of love he’d been so desperately needing.

Eliott was sure they’d spend the rest of the night figuring out where to go from there, but presently it was just enough to know that Lucas still had people that cared for him as much as they’d promised to. Eliott smiled, and was pulled into the hug. The world smiled with him, even if just for a moment.

🕷🕷🕷🕷

Eliott was on his way over to Yann’s place with Lucas, and Lucas seemed nervous for some reason, more nervous than he had been to tell his flatmates the truth of everything that had been going down. Eliott kept their hands linked reassuringly, smiling at him every so often.

Yann seemed to be in a perfectly happy mood, and he gave Lucas a look that Eliott couldn’t discern when he let the two of them into his house. To Eliott’s surprise, Imane was there too, which was weird. Sure, the girls and the boys were all friends, but Eliott had never gotten the sense that Imane and Yann were very close.

Yann looked somewhat surprised to see Eliott there as well, which didn’t make sense, because Lucas had told him that Yann invited the two of them over to hang out.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever man, how you been?” Yann asked, giving him a high five. Eliott couldn’t very well just say ‘kidnapped, actually’, so he shrugged, glancing quickly at Lucas.

“Fine,” he answered simply. That should suffice. Eliott didn’t know if Lucas was going to tell Yann and Imane about everything or not, but he figured it was Lucas’ story to tell if he wanted to, not his.

Lucas narrowed his eyes, but said nothing. Instead, he turned to Imane, who was already looking at him and said, “Those new things you gave me? I might need more.”

Yann’s eyes were wide, looking between Lucas, Imane, and Eliott, but Imane seemed unbothered. She rolled her eyes and held out her arms. “Glad you’re alive dumbass.”

“Yeah, me too,” Lucas joked, and Eliott tried to meet Yann’s eye, who was suddenly very interested in the ceiling.

“Hold on,” Eliott interrupted, trying to decode their ambiguity. He turned to Imane. “You know?”

She raised one eyebrow at him in turn. “You know?”

“We all know,” Lucas interjected, biting his lip.

Eliott turned to Yann. “This whole time?”

Yann, looking extremely uncomfortable, conceded, “Yes?”

Lucas was watching him nervously, as if he’d be mad other people knew before him, but Eliott started laughing. The life that the two (or four) of them had stumbled into was already so absurd, not much could surprise Eliott anymore.

“Welcome to the club, man,” Imane said, breaking up the small amount of remaining tension. Lucas breathed a subtle sigh of relief that Eliott wasn’t mad, and Eliott gave him an extra reassuring squeeze.

“Happy to be here,” Eliott said with a wink, then a backwards glance at Lucas, “Well… I mean…”

Lucas interjected, “I have a lot to fill you guys in on.”

Eliott sat and listened while Lucas repeated his spiel, nearly the same as the tail end of the one he’d given Manon, Mika, and Lisa a few days prior. For the time being, Manon, Mika, and Lisa were staying with Emma because her mom was gone all the time, and Lucas was staying with Eliott because neither of them wanted to have the other out of their sight for too long. Sure, they’d stayed over together many a time, even before they started dating, but having Lucas live with him (in a sense) put a whole bunch of butterflies in his stomach, thinking of what it would be like if they lived together every day, not just when they were possibly in mortal danger.

Imane didn’t seem as concerned about any of the new developments as Yann did, but that made sense. She always had a calm, level head when the rest of them were freaking out. Thank god for Imane.

Yann stole Lucas from Eliott, pulling him into a bone crushing hug. “Fuck your dad,” he said seriously, ruffling Lucas’ hair.

Lucas smiled weakly, eyes glistening just so, like he’d only at that moment realized the severity of the situation. “Easier said than done, I’m afraid.”

“Hey, look at me,” Imane said, standing beside Yann and placing a hand on Lucas’ shoulder. “You are not alone. You have me, you have Yann, you have Eliott, you have Arthur and Basile, you have all the girls, you probably also have Sofiane and Idriss too, and they barely know you. Ok? We’ll all figure this out together, because you may be a superhero, but we’re not so bad ourselves.”

“I know how to fire a gun and everything now,” Eliott chimed in, kissing the back of Lucas’ head as he laughed, a soft beautiful sound.

“Yeah, you’re staying away from the fighting from now on,” Lucas said sternly.

Eliott scoffed. “What? But I’m so good at it.”

“Ha ha.”

“That wasn’t a joke Lallemant.”

Yann rolled his eyes. “Can you guys stop flirting for like, one minute?”

Eliott and Lucas exchanged a glance. “No,” they said simultaneously, each with a faux apologetic shrug. Yann rolled his eyes again, but this time he was hiding a smile.

“Well?” Imane said, bringing them back to the topic at hand. “Dream team unite?”

Eliott smiled at the three of them shyly. “Am I included in the dream team?”

Imane opened her mouth but Lucas cut her off. “Of course. You’re my dream.”

“You guys are so gross,” Imane said, turning on her heel to go in the other room, Yann following dutifully. Eliott stood in the hallway with Lucas a moment longer, smiling at him in an intentional sort of way, the kind that said you mean just as much to me as I do to you.

“You’re my dream too,” Eliott said. “Just you, my Lu.”

“Not the hot mysterious superhero?” Lucas asked like he was joking, but Eliott wasn’t sure if he was.

Eliott shrugged. “Him too, but he’s not the soul I fell in love with. That’s all Lucas.”

“I was in love with you before I was ever more than just Lucas,” Lucas said, twining their fingers together.

“You’ve always been more than just Lucas to me,” Eliott said, leaning down gently to capture Lucas in a kiss. Because he had been, even if it had only been as friends before. There was always something special about him, something that told Eliott they were soulmates long before that ever came to fruition. He was glad that it finally had, and that they wouldn’t have to spend the rest of their lives wondering what might have been.

Their moment was broken, however, by the one and only Yann Cazas. “Hey, assholes! You gonna help with this or what?”

Lucas groaned, leaning against Eliott. “We’d better…” he trailed off, nodding to the other room.

Eliott sighed dramatically, running a hand through Lucas’ hair. “Love you.”

“Love you too."

Imane looked like she was trying not to smile at the two of them when they entered the room, and Yann looked like he was pretending to be annoyed with them, which was pretty expected from the both of them.

Lucas sat beside Imane and looked at what she was doing on her laptop. She glanced up at both of them. “When’s the last time you’ve had contact with your dad?” she asked Lucas gently.

“Years ago,” Lucas said, looking like he’d been anticipating this conversation, but still didn’t want to be having it. Eliott understood, even in the years they’d been friends Lucas never talked about his dad beyond vague statements about not needing him in his life, being glad he wasn’t in it.

Imane pressed on. “What does your dad… do?”

Lucas shrugged. “I don’t really know. I was too young to understand what he did when he left, and I never cared to figure it out once he was gone.”

“Can’t you just look him up or something?” Yann asked, watching Lucas carefully. Of all of them, he was probably the only one who knew anything about Lucas’ father aside from Lucas himself.

Imane glared at Yann. “I did, I just wanted to cover all of our bases.”

“Well?” Lucas asked, biting his bottom lip and looking at Imane with wide eyes, like he was scared of what she might say.

She sighed, turning her screen to face them. “There’s not much about him, honestly. He has a high up position in his company, but that company looks pretty clean from what I’ve seen, no reports of manufacturing illegal substances or modifying human beings into whatever the hell you’ve encountered.”

“Chameleon and Vulture,” Eliott supplied, feeling himself shiver involuntarily. At least one of them was dead.

“I don’t know,” she complained, “I feel like this is just scratching the surface, but I’m not sure how to dig deeper.”

Yann held out his hands. “Looks like you need Cazas for this one.”

“You really think you’ll be able to find anything I haven’t been able to find?” she challenged, holding her computer close to her chest.

“I very much do think that,” Yann said with a grin, and she reluctantly handed it over. Eliott watched their exchange carefully, trying to figure out what everyone’s roles were in this operation.

Lucas must have noticed his confusion, because he said, “They’ve been helping me this whole time. Imane designed my suit and everything, Yann is mostly there for moral support but he has some helpful skills.”

“He means I’ll do illegal shit that Imane won’t do,” Yann interjected, typing away.

It was hard for Eliott to not feel a little left out, even if he did understand why Yann and Imane had been roped in much earlier than he had. The three of them just fell right into a little rhythm, the likes of which somewhat relieved Eliott as well, knowing that Lucas hadn’t been going through this all alone. He had sort of been wondering about the technology involved with being Spiderman since he’d found out that it was Lucas, and there was no one quite as smart as Imane, so that at least made sense.

A lot of things made sense, even things Eliott had never in his life even considered happening. Maybe everything was just the right amount of fucked up, the amount that made it all seem somewhat normal.

“Hey, Lu?” Yann called over to Lucas, who raised his eyebrows in response. “Did your dad ever talk about working in a lab?”

Lucas scrunched up his nose, looking confused, then a sense of clarity overcame his features. “My grandpa worked in some government lab. My parents never really talked about it though, just mentioned it in passing once or twice.”

Imane and Yann shared a look. Yann continued, “Do you think that could have something to do with all of this? Is it some secret government conspiracy?”

“Do you realize how ridiculous that sounds?” Lucas asked, but he didn’t argue.

That too, made sense, in the odd sort of way all of this did. Eliott thought of something.

“That’s why no one’s doing anything. Sure, the police arrested Vulture, but Chameleon seemed pretty sure he would be free soon, and I haven’t heard any coverage on weird things happening throughout the city aside from a few Spiderman escapades. He’s working with the government, they’re in on this too.” Anyone else might have thought he was talking out of his ass, but Yann could always be counted on to suspect the government for any wrongdoings at all.

Lucas blinked like he’d had an epiphany. “Imane, you keep track of all the news about Spiderman, right?” She nodded, unsure where he was going with this. He continued, “They haven’t reported everything, have they?”

“What do you mean?” she asked, holding out her hands to take the computer from Yann, typing away immediately once it was in her possession. Lucas looked at her like he thought she knew exactly what he meant.

Yann looked like he knew too, because he added, “They haven’t reported on a variety of things you’ve dealt with, just the smaller, more low key things. They reported when you saved that store by Eliott’s place from getting robbed but they didn’t report a thing when you came across that random building a while back and saved some kid’s life.”

“That was me, Yann,” Eliott said, unless there had been another instance where the same thing happened.

Yann looked at Lucas accusingly, who shrank in his seat. “You told me it was some random person!”

“I lie about a lot of things, Yann,” Lucas said, folding his arms over his chest.

Yann looked like he wanted to argue further, but Eliott cut in with a thought before he had the chance to say any more. “Your dad was there that night.”

Lucas whipped his head to Eliott. “He was? I didn’t see him there.”

“He left right before you got there,” Eliott said, “I didn’t know who he was at the time, just thought he looked sort of familiar.”

“I mean, it can’t be a coincidence,” Yann said, looking between Lucas and Imane pointedly. Imane sighed and shrugged like she had no choice but to agree, and Lucas seemed to be coming to a similar conclusion.

“But what does he want?” Lucas asked quietly, more to himself than anyone else. That was the question on everyone’s mind, it seemed, because no one had a concrete answer.

“I’m afraid there’s only one way to find that out,” Imane said just as softly, watching Lucas carefully. “But we can manufacture the entire thing.”

Eliott blinked a few times, catching onto what Imane was saying. “Hold on a minute… you can’t be saying what I think you are? No way are we putting Lucas in harm’s way for the sake of some fucking government conspiracy! No way.”

“Eliott—” Lucas began, but Eliott shook his head.

“You can’t honestly be serious?” Eliott demanded of all of them.

Yann stood and placed a hand on Eliott’s shoulder. “Lucas is the only one who has a chance. They’re after him for some reason, and they aren’t going to relent.”

“You don’t know that,” Eliott pleaded, begging Yann with his eyes to consider his point of view.

“Eliott,” Lucas said again, more definitively. “I love you, but it’s not up to you. I knew what I was getting myself into when I decided to play a superhero, and I have to accept the responsibility that comes with it. Especially if my dad’s involved. I’m sure I haven’t scratched the surface on all the bad shit he’s done, but if there’s some way I can help put an end to it, I want to.”

Lucas looked at him the same way he’d looked at Yann, and Eliott’s defenses crumbled. “I just don’t want you to get hurt,” Eliott said.

“I never wanted you to get hurt either,” Lucas said, eyes carrying more pain than they should have at his age. “If I do this we can be one step closer to not hurting anymore.”

Eliott closed his eyes, breathed in and out of his nose slowly. When he opened them, Yann, Lucas, and Imane were all looking at him hesitantly. He trusted Lucas, he did, more than anyone. As hard as this might be, Eliott had no choice but to agree with the rest of them. They had to do what they could to uncover whatever was going on and make it right.

“All right,” he agreed, “What’s the plan, then?”

🕷🕷🕷🕷

Eliott hated the plan. He’d helped to come up with the plan, but he hated the plan. He hated it because he would have to wait, wait until things either went perfectly or horribly wrong. Imane had full faith in the plan, so that should have put Eliott at ease, but it didn’t. Not much did these days.

It had been so hard to pretend everything was the same at school around their other friends. Manon looked like she might have been having a hard time adjusting too, but Lucas, Imane, and Yann were pros. Eliott didn’t know whether or not he should have been impressed by it.

Lucas had decided not to tell the rest of their friends about everything until after his confrontation with his dad, just to have less stress surrounding everything that would go down. He didn’t say it was because Eliott’s worry was more than enough, but he didn’t have to.

They were still staying together at Eliott’s place, and the soft, domestic moments they were able to sneak in almost made up for the absurdity and secrecy of everything else going on. The night prior Eliott and Lucas had made a promise not to talk about what was coming the next day and pretend it was just another night, and it had been one of the best nights they’d spent together in recent memory. Lucas had been in such a cheerful, loving mood, and Eliott had been more than happy to follow suit. They made (or, more accurately, failed at making) a meal together, sat and ate on the kitchen floor, neglected to do the dishes in favor of spending some much needed time together in the bedroom, and they’d fallen asleep tucked into one another, whispering sweet nothings in each other’s ears.

It was the perfect night, and Eliott tried not to think about the fact that it may have been their last one.

He was at home, waiting by the tv, waiting for a breaking news broadcast. Imane and Yann were together, helping from the sidelines, but Eliott had been given no job other than to sit and wait. As if summoned by his thoughts, Imane texted him.

Imane: I can sense your worry from here

Eliott: good

Imane: Eliott. It will all be fine, I promise.

Imane: You know the plan, we’ve orchestrated the whole thing, we have the power here

Eliott: i don’t trust his dad one bit

Imane: None of us do

Eliott: i know you guys are smart, but what if he has people that are smarter?

Imane: No one is smarter than me

Eliott: i’m being serious, imane. i’m scared.

Imane: Trust Lucas, ok? He wouldn’t be doing this if he didn’t trust himself.

Eliott: yes he would

Eliott: he’s a self sacrificing asshole

Imane: Well, he’s your self sacrificing asshole

Imane: Trust him. And try not to worry so much, I’m sure he can sense it too.

Eliott: easier said than done.

Imane: Do you want me to tell Manon & co to come over to yours? They might not know about the plan, but I’m sure they could take your mind off it

Eliott: no. i think i need to be alone.

Eliott: i’ll let you know though

Imane: It’ll be ok <3

Eliott: i hope so.

Eliott shut off his phone, not waiting for a response. He knew Imane was right, that he should just trust her and Lucas and the plan, but it was so, so hard to abandon his anxieties like that.

The plan was for Lucas to bait his dad by busting a fake robbery, that way they could ensure news coverage without interference from whatever organization his dad was a part of. They weren’t certain his dad would take the bait, but they’d been doing small things over the past few weeks to draw more and more attention to Spiderman, make him out as the hero most of the city thought he was. The hero Lucas thought he was anything but, the hero Eliott knew he was, even without a mask.

They didn’t know if it would be Lucas’ dad or if he’d send someone else after Lucas, but Lucas had made it clear that he would do whatever, go wherever, until he found his dad and got answers. They knew there was a risk of Lucas’ dad interfering with the news, so Lucas’ suit was equipped with a camera and an earpiece that doubled as a microphone as well, but only Imane and Yann had access to it. Part of the deal was that they’d keep Eliott informed, but he wouldn’t be in the middle of it all.

Eliott was mostly worried Lucas’ dad would do something drastic right off the bat and they wouldn’t get any answers or Lucas would get hurt. Ever since Lucas claimed that his dad would have no qualms about killing him, it was all Eliott had been able to think about. Part of him still couldn’t believe it, but he knew Lucas would never lie about that.

Eliott checked the time, then the tv, knowing that whatever was happening would surely be happening soon. He was right, just as he looked at the screen, a breaking news broadcast showed up, informing of a robbery halted by the local hero, Spiderman. There was some footage of Lucas sweeping in to save the day, but not much. There were cameras on him live as he waited outside the site of the “robbery” and Eliott could sense the tension he was carrying even from miles away. Normally he left the scenes of crimes he stopped immediately following the crime stopping, but the plan had called for him to wait for retaliation, so Eliott watched as he waited.

He was watching the tv so intently that his vision nearly blurred, and in that time he noticed a small glitch in the camera filming the scene, and when it came back into clear focus, Lucas was gone.

Fuck.

He dialed Imane immediately.

“Imane, where the fuck did he go?” he demanded into the phone when she picked up.

“Eliott, calm down. He’s with his dad,” she answered.

That didn’t really give him much to go off of. He switched off the tv, now that Lucas was gone it wouldn’t be much help. “Where?”

“We’re not entirely certain, but on the roof of some building,” she said distractedly.

Yann yelled into the phone from where he was likely stationed beside Imane. “It’s ok, Eliott, Lucas knows what he’s doing.”

“What are they talking about?” he asked.

Imane sighed, “I’d be able to tell if I could hear him over you.”

“Sorry.” Eliott went silent, waiting for her to listen and fill him in. It felt like an eternity, but she finally spoke up again.

“He’s asking his dad questions, but his dad won’t answer. It’s ok, though, he’ll just keep— fuck!” she swore suddenly, and Eliott’s blood pressure spiked.

“Imane, please tell me what’s happening,” he rambled worriedly.

“I have to go, Eliott, I’m sorry,” she said, voice wavering a bit, and the call disconnected. Impulsively, Eliott threw his phone across the room, hearing the glass crack as it hit the wall, then the floor.

He stormed out of his flat, not bothering to grab his broken phone or lock the door. He ran and ran and ran, all the way to Yann’s place, where Yann and Imane were set to be stationed. Fuck waiting, he wouldn’t do anyone any good if he was going out of his mind with worry back at his flat.

It was probably the fastest Eliott had run in his life, and he showed up on Yann’s doorstep panting and sweating. He knocked and would not stop knocking until Yann’s sister opened the door, looking confused.

“Who are you?” she asked.

“Imane and Yann are here?” he confirmed, ignoring her.

She frowned. “Yeah, they’re in his bedroom, what are you—”

He pushed past her making his way up the stairs, taking them two at a time. He could hear Yann and Imane’s voices yelling but he couldn’t hear what they were saying, so he wasted no time in wrenching open Yann’s door and being met with two nervous faces.

“What the hell is going on?” he asked, and thankfully neither one of them chided him for being there.

Both of the large monitors they’d set up were completely black, fuzzing with static. Imane looked on the verge of tears and Yann was shaking. He repeated, “What the hell is going on?”

“Eliott—” Imane began, cutting herself off at his expression.

“Where’s Lucas? Why are the screens black? What’s he saying?” Eliott demanded, and still Yann and Imane were silent. His voice broke. “P— Please. I need to know that he’s ok.”

Yann looked up at him, pain so clearly evident in his eyes, and Eliott knew. He shook his head. “No,” he argued, despite them not having said a word, “You told me this was all under control, you told me not to worry.”

He turned to Imane, seething, tears threatening to run down his cheeks. “You fucking lied to me Imane! And for what? He’s— he trusted you. He trusted all of us. I fucking—- I hate you. Both of you. I’ll never forgive you for this, Lucas, he—”

Eliott stumbled, falling to his knees. His chest hurt so badly, he felt like he was having a heart attack. Hands wrapped around him holding him so tightly it almost hurt, but he didn’t want them to let go. He let himself sob openly the tears tasting salty as they fell in rivers. Yann was crying too, he realized, but in a quiet sort of way, like he didn’t deserve to cry. Eliott felt horrible momentarily, Yann had known Lucas longer than any of them, had been his best friend since they were just kids learning to tie their shoes.

Eliot lifted his head, gripping Yann and Imane back with equal strength. “I’m sorry.”

His voice sounded dead, it didn’t sound like his voice. He wasn’t sure it would ever sound the same again. “You didn’t— we all underestimated his dad.”

“I shouldn’t have. I should have known better,” Yann said quietly. “I was the only one other than him who knew his dad. I should have insisted on some sort of backup, I should have vetoed the plan entirely.”

Eliott shook his head. “It’s not your fault. I’m sorry for blaming you, I just…” He couldn’t find any more words, and the other two seemed to understand. Sobs were still heaving in his chest, but he needed answers, he needed to know where exactly it had all gone wrong.

“Was he scared?” Eliott asked.

Imane shook her head, wiping a stray tear from her eye. “I don’t think so.”

“Can you please tell me what happened then?” He didn’t want to know. He did want to know. He didn’t know what he wanted. He just wanted Lucas.

Yann too, was still fairly inconsolable, and Imane took on the task of telling the story. “He asked his dad some questions, just as I told you. He wouldn’t answer until Lucas took his mask off, so he did. He started asking Lucas questions too, and Lucas wouldn’t tell him anything until he got answers of his own. It’s not like Lucas had anything to hide, anyway. His dad took out a gun, told him that he’d kill everyone Lucas cared about if he didn’t give him what he wanted. Lucas refused, calling his bluff. He said he didn’t have anyone he cared about anyway, so it didn’t matter. His dad knew about you, though, and Lucas told him you were already dead, that you’d been shot at the warehouse and you two had escaped together only for you to die in his arms hours later. He said he had nothing to lose, and he’d rather die himself than give up anything for his dad.”

Eliott could picture it all, picture Lucas’ stubborn face, his fierce heart. One of the last things he’d done was protect Eliott, and Eliott hadn’t been able to protect him. His chest panged again, heart on fire.

“Lucas whispered something, and then his dad shot him. Without another word. That’s when our screens went black and the audio went silent.” Yann’s voice was as cold as Eliott’s.

Hearing it stated so bluntly made Eliott feel like the floor had been ripped from under him, like he was free falling with no one to catch him. It was a sensation he’d felt many times in his life, but never this strong, never with so much depth to the hurt.

Voice broken, he whispered, “What did Lucas say?”

Yann and Imane shared a glance. “He told us that it wasn’t our fault, and to tell you that he loves you more than he ever thought a single person could love another.”

“He knew,” Eliott said, rapid breaths rising, thinking about what Lucas had told him about his spider senses, how he could anticipate attacks better than anyone. “He knew his dad was going to kill him? And he didn’t try to stop it? Why didn’t he try to stop it?”

“Eliott—” Imane tried.

“No.” Eliott pulled away from their loving hold. “He let it happen. He let his dad kill him. He was a fucking superhero! He— he—”

Yann shook him by his shoulders. “Eliott. Shut the fuck up. I know you loved Lucas more than anyone, but I loved him too, for a much longer time. It all happened so quickly, I don’t think Lucas could have stopped it if he tried. I don’t think he let it happen, and fuck you if you’re going to blame him for being fucking muderered! Fuck you!”

Eliott could feel his temper rising and he was worried he might say something he’d regret, but Imane got between the two of them, pressing a hand to both of their chests. “We’re all hurting right now,” she said, her tone sharp and serious, like she was trying her best to hold it together, “You two know him more than me, but I know for a fact that he wouldn’t want the two people he loves most to fight, to blame each other—”

“To blame him,” Yann spat, and Imane pressed harder.

“—to blame him. Which I don’t think Eliott was doing. We’re all experiencing a lot of emotions right now, so I swear to god if you two don’t stop this I— I—” Imane broke off into sobs, clenching their shirts in either one of her hands. Eliott looked at Yann, a wave of understanding passing between the two of them. Yann was sorry, Eliott was sorry, but no matter how sorry they were, it didn’t change the fact that Lucas was gone.

They folded into one another melting into a circle of comfort and support, knowing it wouldn’t do much good but trying anyway. They let Imane cry, they let Yann cry, they let Eliott cry. It was all they could really do for one another at the moment.

The sun had gone out, but somehow they were the only ones who noticed.

🕷🕷🕷🕷

It had been a month. Eliott wasn’t coping well, but none of them were. A car accident, they’d told the rest of their friends. Eliott, Lucas, Imane, and Yann had been going outside the city for the weekend, just to have some fun and get away, and there had been an accident. They didn’t have a funeral, but everyone came to Eliott’s place and they all drank themselves sick and cursed the world for being so cruel. He wasn’t sure that was what Lucas would have wanted, but funerals were for the living anyway.

Eliott had one of the worst depressive episodes of his life, and Yann and Imane hadn’t left his side through it. Their sadness didn’t carry the same endless depth, but it was deep enough for them to be intimately aware of what Eliott was feeling.

Everyone treated the three of them with extra care, like they might break with a single touch, and Eliott was too exhausted all the time to argue. Sometimes he felt like he might break with less than a touch. Something didn’t feel right, didn’t feel finite.

There had been no news of Spiderman’s death, which Eliott had assumed would have been displayed for everyone to see, instead the world just went on wondering where he was and why he’d stopped being a hero. Lucas’ body wasn’t ever found either, though that wasn’t too weird. Lucas’ dad probably had more resources than Eliott, Yann, and Imane did, so they hadn’t really banked on finding him, and deep down Eliott could tell they were kind of glad they hadn’t.

Eliott knew he had to start making an effort if he was going to pass his bac this time around, but he felt like nothing mattered anymore. Lucas was the one that deserved to be taking his bac, looking at universities, not Eliott.

His phone buzzed, and he nearly ignored it, but then it buzzed again, and again, and he figured he’d at least look to turn it on silent. It was probably Daphné, thinking she was doing some good by “checking in” on him.

Unknown Sender: Is this Eliott?

Unknown Sender: If not, ignore this message

Unknown Sender: If yes, please let me know

Eliott: who is this?

Unknown Sender: I can’t tell you that. Is this Eliott?

Eliott: yes

Unknown Sender: Thank god.

Unknown Sender: I need your help

Eliott: i’m not sure how i can help if i don’t know who you are

Unknown Sender: You wouldn’t believe me even if I could tell you

Eliott: try me

Unknown Sender: Will you help me or not?

Eliott: what do you need help with?

Eliott was utterly confused by the whole exchange. Who would be reaching out to him for help? He left his room and went to the living room, where Imane was sitting doing homework.

“Hey Imane?” he asked, and she indulged him with a hum. “I got a weird message, do you think you could track it?”

She looked up immediately. “What kind of weird message?”

He showed her his phone and she immediately glowered at him. “This is how bad things happen to good people Eliott. Why on earth would you confirm your identity to someone who refuses to tell you who they are?”

Eliott shrugged. He had nothing to lose at this point. “All the bad people we know think I’m dead.”

“Still.” She sighed, plugging his phone into her computer. After a few minutes, she gestured for him to look. The signal was coming from the middle of an entirely empty area on the map. “Do you know where this is?”

He blanched. “I don’t, but I have an idea of what might be there.”

It was all too similar to another space that a map claimed to be empty, and his gut was telling him that he was on the right track with this. It was also telling him he could trust the unknown sender, against his and Imane’s better judgement. The phone buzzed again.

Unknown Sender: I need you, Imane Bakhellal, and Yann Cazas, if they’re willing.

Eliott: how do i know i can trust you?

Unknown Sender: Because I promise I’d never let anything happen to you, or to them. I swear it on my life.

Eliott: your life may not mean that much to me

Unknown Sender: Maybe it does, though

Imane took the phone, rolling her eyes.

Eliott: This is Imane. Stop playing with him, tell us what you want and we’ll decide if you’re worth it.

Unknown Sender: You’ve tracked these messages already, yes?

Eliott: Yes.

Unknown Sender: I need you to come here, and to disable all the tech, and clear a path for me to escape.

Eliott: Excuse me?

Unknown Sender: I know it’s a lot to ask, but they’re not as sophisticated as you’d think. It’ll be easy for you.

Eliott: And how would you know that?

Unknown Sender: I can’t tell you

Unknown Sender: Not because I don’t want to

Unknown Sender: I just have to be careful

Eliott: Fine.

Unknown Sender: Fine as in you’ll help?!

Eliott: Fine as in I’ll think about it.

Unknown Sender: Thank you Imane. Thank you.

Eliott: Don’t thank me quite yet

Unknown Sender: I swear, it will be easy for you

Unknown Sender: Minimalism Imane, minimalism.

Unknown Sender: Can I talk to Eliott again?

Imane handed the phone back over, looking conflicted, like she was thinking something she didn’t want to be thinking.

Eliott: this is eliott

Unknown Sender: I know, I can tell by the way you type

Eliott: its a gay thing

Unknown Sender: Wait, really?!

Unknown Sender: i mean, wait really?!

Eliott: you’re gay, then?

Unknown Sender: you tell me

Eliott found himself grinning, despite himself.

Eliott: i’ll convince imane to help. yann too.

Unknown Sender: i know you will

Unknown Sender: i can’t wait to see you

Eliott: do we know each other?

Unknown Sender: enough

Eliott: then i can’t wait to see you too

Unknown Sender: i’ll text you more details when i can, but i have to go now

Eliott: ok

Unknown Sender: goodbye, eliott. sorry i didn’t say it before

Eliott: what?

Unknown Sender: nothing. just goodbye for now

Eliott put his phone away, assuming the strange conversation was over. Imane was staring off into space and Eliott had to wave a hand in front of her face a few times before she focused on him again.

“Are you ok?” he asked.

She nodded dazedly, forcing a smile. “Yeah. Great. Just thinking.”

“About?”

“How to help this weird friend of yours,” she teased, but the usual bite wasn’t there, her mind was still elsewhere.

“They’re not my friend, I have no idea who it is.”

“Right,” Imane said, like she was just appeasing him at this point.

Eliott frowned at her. “Are you sure you’re ok?”

“I’m fine, I just need to talk to Yann. Will you be fine here for a little while?” she asked.

He nodded, not understanding what she was being so weird about. She left in a rush, leaving most of her things behind, but Eliott figured she’d be back soon enough anyway. In the meantime he went back to the refuge of his bedroom, wrapping himself back up in a cocoon of longing. Lucas would have been so annoyed with him for texting a random person who refused to reveal their identity, but he wouldn’t have expected anything less.

Weirdly, texting that person was the only thing that had taken his mind off how much he missed Lucas recently. He’d allowed himself to banter, to enjoy the conversation, because it felt so familiar to him and so comfortable. Almost like Lucas had been there with him. But, of course, that wasn’t possible.

🕷🕷🕷🕷

Eliott, Yann, and Imane were sitting in a van in front of a giant building that shouldn’t have been where it was. Their job really was simple, Eliott’s most of all. He was just their ride, but their mystery contact had wanted him there, so there he was.

Yann’s job was to hack into their systems, Imane’s was to surveil the inside and provide a path for their contact to escape from, and if all else failed, Eliott’s other job was to cut off their generator, leaving them powerless.

The thought that Lucas’ dad might be in that building living and breathing nice and comfortably made Eliott’s blood boil so much that it was probably a good thing he was just on getaway car duty. Their sender had made it clear they only had a window of five minutes before the people inside the building realized they were missing, and the sender had an undisclosed job to do in the meantime as well.

Helping whoever their inside contact was had been good for Eliott, actually, it took his mind off the pain he felt constantly. He couldn’t tell if it was doing the same for Imane and Yann or not, they were both as focused as he was but he thought their intention might have been different. That being said, he had no idea what that intention might have been.

Even now, Imane and Yann were so tense that it was putting Eliott on edge. Just before they’d arrived, Imane had asked Eliott how he felt about being complicit in a serious crime and he hadn’t known how to respond. That seemed to be a good enough answer for her. The two of them were being a bit secretive too, but Eliott tried not to take it personally, he knew it was likely about things that would have gone over his head anyway.

“You ready?” Yann asked Imane, then Eliott. Imane nodded curtly, laptop at the ready. Eliott had rented a big van for them to set up their needed technology in, and if Eliott was being honest, it made him feel like he was in a heist movie of some sort. He nodded at Yann as well, and the two of them got to work, Eliott waiting for word from the inside.

Yann swore under his breath every now and then, but other than that, things seemed to be going well. His fingers flew across the keys faster than Eliott thought should have been humanly possible, and after nearly ten minutes of tense silence, he cracked a grin.

“We’re in.”

Imane took over from there, Yann monitoring to make sure they went undetected in the system. Yann nodded at Eliott, and he texted their informant, letting them know their progress.

Eliott: we’re in the system, imane’s almost ready for you

Unknown Sender: i’m ready

“Hey, Eliott?” Imane called to him, and he looked up, awaiting instruction. She continued, “Can you wait up front?”

He furrowed his brows. “Why?”

“We might need to make a quick getaway, and I want you ready,” she said harshly, but nervously. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think she was trying to hide something from him.

“Oh, ok,” he agreed, sliding back into the front seat. Imane and Yann exchanged a look, and Imane spoke up again.

“Can we have your phone?” she asked.

He handed it over, but still questioned, “Why?”

“We need to talk to hi— the contact. We’re going to call them.”

Eliott nodded, not sure why he couldn’t have been a part of that. He’d probably been the one with the most contact to the mystery insider. Whatever, he was sure they knew what they were doing. He tried not to think about the last time he’d been left out of some details of a major plan, tried not to think about the consequences.

Yann slid the dividing door between the front and back closed, cutting him off from them. Eliott could only barely hear murmurs of them talking either to each other or the phone. Inside the building, he saw a trail of lights go out, one by one, and he assumed their contact was on the move. He straightened up in his chair, hands tightening on the wheel. They had five minutes.

Something bright went off in the upper corner of the building, far away from where lights were still blinking off leading a trail for their contact to follow. It was working, it was really working. There was stillness for a few tense seconds, then the building’s power shut off completely. Eliott hoped to god that was Yann’s doing.

Eliott knocked on the door separating him from Yann and Imane, wondering if he should be concerned, but they just knocked back without saying anything, so he assumed all must have been well, or all must have been terrible. He was hoping for the latter.

Lights started turning back on one by one and Eliott squinted to see what was happening inside. It looked like madness, from what he could see. People were running all about, some looked like they were frozen in place, and alarms were blaring now that the power was back.

Yann slid open the door and placed a hand on Eliott’s shoulder. “Our contact is coming, but I don’t want you to try to look at them and distract yourself, ok? I’m gonna close this door, and when you hear me hit it twice, fucking gun it and get the hell out of here.”

“Why can’t I—” Eliott argued, but Yann clamped his hand down harder.

“Trust me, ok?” His eyes burned holes into Eliott’s resolve, and he nodded.

“Ok.”

Yann told him to rotate the van quickly and quietly so their contact could jump into the back and they could get going, then shut the door, leaving Eliott alone again. He did as he was asked, heart rate spiking involuntarily with all the adrenaline coursing through his body.

He waited five seconds.

Ten.

Fifteen.

Twenty—

Two knocks on the door.

Eliott gunned it, driving faster than he’d ever dared to in his life. He had to admit it was kind of fun to be a getaway driver, just as fun as the movies made it out to be. He thought about Lucas again while he was driving, about how fun Lucas would think this was, how he would pretend he was Vin Diesel in one of the many Fast and the Furious movies. His heart hurt as it usually did when he thought of Lucas these days, but it was full of fondness. A tear slipped down his cheek as Yann slipped into the front seat beside him, shutting the door tightly behind him before Eliott could so much as hear Imane and their newcomer talking. Yann looked like he’d been crying too, but Eliott didn’t ask about it.

They stayed on the outskirts of the city until they got to the location they’d decided to ditch the van, just in case anyone was on their tail. It didn’t seem like it though, so Eliott allowed himself to hope that maybe they’d done whatever it was they’d set out to do.

Just as the van came to a stop, Eliott putting it into park and taking out the keys, Yann clapped a hand on his shoulder again, imploring him with his eyes.

“Please, Eliott, don’t be mad at us,” Yann said, face full of an emotion Eliott couldn’t place.

Eliott frowned. “What do I have to be mad about?”

Yann ignored this, continuing, “Imane didn’t even want to tell me, and we didn’t want to fuck with your emotions, let you get your hopes up, just in case everything went wrong.”

“Yann what—” Eliott tried again, and Yann opened the door to the backseat.

L🕷U🕷C🕷A🕷S

Fuck, Eliott was breathtaking. Lucas smiled weakly as Eliott looked at him like he was a ghost, and Lucas supposed he was. No matter how awful the last however many weeks of his life had been, he was sure Eliott’s had been worse. At least he had the hope of Eliott, of the rest of his friends to keep him going. Eliott thought that Lucas left him, left him for good.

“Eliott, I…” Lucas said, incapable of verbalizing all the emotions and thoughts running through his mind. With that, Eliott’s expression changed, shock mingling with hope, and he opened the driver’s door, hopping out of the car.

Lucas exchanged a worried look with Imane, whose presence was reassuring as always, and by the time he looked away the back doors of the van were being ripped open and he was being pulled into a grip so tight that he didn’t think he’d ever be let go. Good, he didn’t want to be.

Slowly, cautiously, he wrapped his arms around Eliott in return, and Eliott only held him tighter, small sobs shaking the both of them.

“I’m so sorry El,” Lucas said, eyes stinging with tears shed and unshed. “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you—”

“Shut up,” Eliott said, shaking his head, “I love you Lucas, god, you’re real?”

Lucas pulled away just enough to look Eliott in the eyes and nod. “I’m real.”

Eliott’s mouth didn’t so much meet his as crash into his, a needy, desperate kiss that Lucas was more than happy to return. The world wasn’t ending, not anymore, it was just beginning. A whole new world for the two of them with no secrets and no life threatening situations. Well, maybe some life threatening situations, but Lucas would try to keep them to a minimum from here on out.

Eliott pulled back, then kissed him again, long and hard. “I don’t,” he said between kisses, each of them yearning for another once the last was finished. “I don’t understand.” Another kiss. “How are you—” Kiss. “How is this—” Kiss. Kiss. Kiss.

Lucas placed a hand on either side of Eliott’s face. “Let’s go home. I’ll explain there, ok?”

Eliott’s eyes fluttered shut at Lucas’ touch, his head coming to press against Lucas’. He nodded once, breathing in and out deeply. “Home,” he repeated, folding his hands over Lucas’.

“Home,” Lucas agreed.

They walked home, leaving the van where it was, though Lucas knew there was no longer reason to worry. He had a lot to explain, to all of them, but he hoped that by the time he did there would be no more reason for worry lines to crease their faces, no reason for sadness and hesitation. Yes, healing was in order for everyone, but healing would bring light for all of them.

He looked sidelong at Eliott and smiled. He was pretty sure that finding light wouldn’t be too hard, not with sunshine incarnate by his side.

As much as Lucas wanted to take a shower immediately when they walked into Eliott’s flat, he knew there was a lot of discussion to be had beforehand. Still, he’d been wearing his Spiderman suit for nearly two months without washing it or himself, and he knew he didn’t smell or look the best. The flat looked lived in as usual, but in a new way. There were remnants of Imane and Yann everywhere, and there was a hum in the air that reeked of desperation and hopelessness. It made Lucas’ heart ache more than he imagined it would.

“Don’t be mad at Imane and Yann,” Lucas said first when they sat down. He wouldn’t allow himself to be curled into Eliott’s side, not yet, but Eliott’s fingers were laced with his in a comforting and grounding way. “I told them not to tell you, not until we were sure everything would work.”

Eliott watched him steadily, not bothering to interject, and Lucas continued, “Our plan, our original plan, it wasn’t that it didn’t work, it was just that my dad is smarter than a couple of teenagers, as smart as those couple of teenagers are. I knew what was happening just before it happened, but I went with my instinct. I could have jumped out of the way, but I knew that wouldn’t have stopped him, so I let his bullet hit me, and as I suspected, it wasn’t a bullet at all. It was some sort of paralyzing technology. I couldn’t move or speak, and I knew the camera and audio must have gone out, so there was nothing I could do to reassure you guys I was alive. If there had been any way for me to, I swear I would have, but when I first contacted you Eliott was the first time I was able to contact anyone at all. I knew that by then everyone would have assumed I’d died, and I’d formed a new plan by then that I knew had a chance of taking me out for good, so I thought it best to only let Imane know it was me, because I knew she’d be the hardest to convince to help some random person stuck in a lab that didn’t exist on any maps.”

“I figured it out, though,” Yann said proudly, and Imane nudged him. Eliott didn’t seem fazed by any of this, so Lucas took a deep breath before continuing his story.

“Yann figured it out accidentally. I really didn’t want him to know, because I didn’t want his hopes up either, but it turned out to be helpful for planning. During the time I was in there before I got ahold of you all, I would sneak out of where I was being kept at certain times during the day and night to map out the layout in my head and take inventory of the space, its weak spots, its strong spots, and what I might do to get out of there for good. And to make sure they never came after any of us again. My dad was with me most of the time and he—” Lucas broke off, remembering. He did a lot of things, mostly to get Lucas to talk about his transformation into Spiderman and how it had come about, and Lucas held out to the best of his ability, but he had limits. After he had all the information he needed, he used Lucas as a test subject for things he was working on, like whatever he’d done to the man who had become Chameleon to make him into a monster.

Lucas shook his head. “It doesn’t matter what he did, but I knew that once he was done, he was going to kill me. I’m lucky I got out of there with a mind of my own, to say the least.” He almost didn’t, if Imane, Yann, and Eliott had been any later, he wouldn’t have. “My dad still underestimated me, though, he didn’t think about the fact that some of the things he was doing would make me more of a threat to him, so I used that to my advantage. I still had my suit, obviously, because what damage could some spandex do? Quite a lot, actually.”

He pulled out a near miniscule flash drive Imane had embedded into the suit long ago, never knowing if it would come in handy. “There’s enough information on here to burn that place to the ground, and that’s exactly what we’re going to do. It’s the last step of the plan, and once we do it, I think this will all be over.” He let out a breathy laugh, reaffirming to himself that they were almost in the clear. “It needs to reach a global audience, though, just in case the French government is in my dad’s pocket. I’m sure you’re up to the task, Bakhellal?”

She smiled at him slyly, but with a hint of relief and affection in her eyes. “I thought you’d never ask.”

“Wait,” Eliott interrupted for the first time, “What did your dad do?”

Lucas shook his head. “That’s not important.”

“It is to me.”

“Eliott—”

“All due respect, Lu, but I’m with Eliott on this one. I need to know that you’re ok for real,” Yann cut in, fixing Lucas with a stare that offered no way out of an explanation.

“He… questioned me,” Lucas said elusively. Maybe he’d go into detail someday, but he wasn’t ready to relive it for quite some time. He coughed. “And when he was done questioning me, he decided to experiment. The experimenting wasn’t all bad, but it did require some adjustment. I don’t know if I can call myself Spiderman anymore, because I’m not sure that’s what I am, but I’m still human, I’m still Lucas.

“The power outage, the one back at the lab? That was me. I’m not really sure how it works yet, but I have a newfound affinity for electricity, and I did my best to use it to my advantage while I was in there. I also, um, can turn invisible?” He figured if he voiced it as a question, it would sound less absurd. Clearly, it didn’t work, because everyone was gaping at him like he was insane.

“Invisible?” Yann clarified, and Lucas nodded somewhat apologetically. Yann continued, “Can you…?”

Lucas laughed in an apathetic sort of way. “Not right now. I’m really, really fucking exhausted. I need a shower. I need to remember what it is to be a teenage boy for a minute, without worrying about the end of the world. I need Eliott, alone.”

Eliott’s eyes snapped to his and Lucas bit his lip. He truly didn’t even mean what Yann and Imane probably thought he meant. All he wanted was to melt into Eliott’s warm embrace and apologize for leaving him, and promise never to do so again.

“I think that’s our cue to leave,” Imane said, pulling Yann up out of his seat. Yann mumbled something grumpily and Lucas stood to follow them to the door, squeezing Eliott’s hand to let him know he’d be back in a minute.

“Thank you,” he said, “For everything, not just tonight.”

“I really fucking missed you, man,” Yann said with a tight smile, breath shuddering in small amounts.

Lucas looked down. “I’ll never stop being sorry for that, and I don’t expect you to forgive me, but for what it’s worth, thank you for not giving up on me.”

Yann tipped Lucas’ head back up and shook his head. “That was never an option. No matter what we thought, we’d never give up on you.”

Lucas had so many more words, but sometimes words weren’t needed to say what you needed to say. He pulled Yann in for a hug, melting into the embrace he knew better than anyone’s, the hug that had helped him through all the hardest times in his life. “I love you,” he said.

“I love you too,” Yann said, and ruffled Lucas’ beyond dirty hair.

“You too, Imane,” he said, turning to her, “I love you too. Thanks for making sure these two were ok, and I’m sorry if no one checked to see if you were ok.”

She smiled sadly. “Making sure they were ok made me feel more ok, if that makes any sense. I kept it together, because I couldn’t afford to fall apart.”

“If you ever need to fall apart, just let me know, I think it’s my turn to keep it together,” he said in a joking sort of way, but he was dead serious. “I’m here for you too, you know?”

She nodded. “I do.”

“I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” he said, “I think we have a lot of explaining to do to a lot of people.”

Yann groaned, resting his head on Imane’s shoulder. “Everyone’s going to kill us.”

Imane rolled her eyes, shrugging him off. “That’s what you’re worried about?”

Lucas closed the door behind them softly as they went, letting them bicker all the way down the stairs and out of the building. Eliott was waiting exactly where Lucas left him, and when Lucas opened his mouth to speak, Eliott shook his head.

“Shower first,” he said, “You know where everything is.”

Lucas bit back his words, his apologies, and went to do just that, anxiety spiking. Now that they were beyond the initial relief of seeing one another alive and well, was Eliott mad? He had every reason to be, Lucas had inadvertently put him through hell, and there was no way to forgive that, really.

He let himself get lost under the water, smothering his racing thoughts and cleansing himself of the bad things that he’d done and had been done to him. His body was a canvas of cruelty, some scars would fade, some wouldn’t, and he was momentarily happy Eliott hadn’t seen him like this.

Eliott had placed a large hoodie and a pair of sweatpants on the bathroom counter for when Lucas finished, and he smiled at the simple, domestic act of care. By the time he was dressed and went to the bedroom, Eliott was laying down, looking up at the ceiling.

Towel drying his hair, Lucas realized how long it had gotten, especially now when he didn’t have any products to keep it from flopping in his eyes. Under any other circumstances, he and Eliott would be laughing about it, or Eliott would be braiding his hair and he would pretend he didn’t like it, but instead he just slipped silently into bed beside Eliott, laying on his side and waiting for Eliott to do the same.

Eliott did, eyes soft and open. “I really missed you, you know.”

“I know, and I’m sorry,” Lucas said, gearing up to beg for forgiveness.

Eliott shook his head, brushing a thumb across Lucas’ cheekbone. “You don’t have to be sorry. I forgave you the moment Yann opened the door and I saw you in the back of the van. I just want you to know how much I missed you, and how my love for you never wavered, not even for a single second.”

When Eliott’s thumb brushed his cheekbone again, it was to brush away a tear. Lucas hadn’t realized he’d started crying. Eliott continued, “I’m sorry for what you went through. I know I don’t even know the half of it, and I don’t blame you for that, but I’m here when you want to talk about it. I’ll be here forever, if you’ll have me.”

“In every universe?”

“In every universe.”

Lucas melted into Eliott like he’d been born to do so. “I love you more than the moon.”

Eliott smiled intimately. “That’s a bold claim to make.”

“It’s true,” Lucas said with a shrug. He promised, “I won’t ever leave you again. At least not without telling you where I went.”

“You can go wherever you please as long as you come back to me, some way, somehow.” Eliott’s breath tickled Lucas’ face as they moved closer into one another, wholly unintentionally.

“Always and forever,” Lucas agreed, folding his arms tightly around Eliott. “Will you make me blueberry bacon muffins tomorrow?”

Eliott laughed, and god, Lucas had missed that sound. He felt like he might have just gotten high off it. “Let’s not think about tomorrow,” he said, and Lucas furrowed his brows.

“No?”

Eliott shook his head. “Remember what you told me, all that time ago, when I was having that really bad depressive episode?”

Lucas did remember. “Minute by minute.”

“Minute by minute,” Eliott confirmed. “Now that we’ve clarified that we have forever, let’s agree to take that forever minute by minute. I don’t care what happens tomorrow, you’re here in my arms right now, and that’s all that matters. Deal?”

Minute by minute. Lucas was surprised Eliott even remembered, but he was glad that he had. “Deal,” he said, then, “In this minute, can I kiss you?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Eliott said.

Every time they were together, their souls soared high enough to touch the stars, but that night they came back down to earth, grounding them in the sensation that this, Lucas and Eliott, was real, and it wasn’t going anywhere.

- after -

After began like this: Arthur and Basile and Manon and Emma and Daphné and Alexia and Mika and Lisa and Idriss and Sofiane and the looks on their faces, the relief, the shock, the hurt, the love. It was Lucas telling everyone his biggest secret and all of them promising to love him despite the things he’d hidden, happy to have him back, happy that they were right to hold onto their hope.

After was Lucas getting food poisoning from Eliott’s muffins and laughing the entire time he was bent over the toilet because of fucking course. In that minute, he’d decided to be happy, even while his stomach felt like it was slowly trying to kill him.

After was Imane and Yann working with Lucas while Eliott watched fondly, blasting the corruption Lucas had uncovered to a global scale, taking down the systems that tried to take them down, even if they never got answers to what they wanted in the first place. Some things were better left unanswered, after all.

After was Eliott asking Lucas to move in with him, officially, after Eliott passed his bac and got into an art college in the heart of the city. They got a whole new flat of their own, decorated the kitchen with fairy lights and a handwritten sign that read ‘No Eliotts allowed’, because one could never be too careful.

After was Spiderman continuing to save the city, using his newfound invisibility to his advantage and basking more in the shadows than the spotlight. No one ever found out that Spiderman had a boyfriend, which was a miracle, because the two of them weren’t very discreet. Some may wonder if Spiderman’s boyfriend was turned on by all the spandex. But again, some questions were better left unanswered.

After was Ouba Lallemant-Demaury, the beautiful little terror that she was. She reminded Eliott of Lucas more than Lucas even knew. Lucas finally got a haircut too, but not until after Eliott braided it and made fun of it and turned it into a giant spike in the shower. Somewhere along the way Eliott and Lucas had turned a house into a home, and a couple of friends turned lovers turned into a family.

After was Arthur learning to adjust to a new way of living, and finding love and support in his friends along the way. If Lucas happened to sign ‘I love you’ to him one time, accidentally activating the web shooters hidden up his sleeves and subsequently flinging himself into a nearby tree, they never mentioned it again. (To his face). Eliott was reminded of one of the first times he’d spoken to ‘Spiderman’ and he’d been so flustered he’d knocked a tree right out of the ground. So, maybe Eliott was laughing a little harder than everyone else, but no one needed to know why.

In some ways, after was just like before, and in some it was wholly different. Before, Eliott loved Lucas and Lucas loved Eliott, and after only made it stronger. The gang and the crew were more of a gang-crew (or grew?) and Manon and Daphné were closing in on Eliott and Lucas for the title of cutest couple. Eliott, Yann, and Imane still hung out, just the three of them, and remembered the hard times and how they’d gotten each other through them. Sometimes Eliott awoke in the middle of the night and forgot that those hard times were in the past, tears stinging his eyes until Lucas’ hand found his in the dark and Ouba jumped on his lap to comfort him. Sometimes Lucas awoke in the middle of the night screaming and all Eliott could do was hold him while he trembled like a leaf, promising that he was safe now.

Sometime during after Lucas told Eliott what all the marks on his body meant, and Eliott promised to never look at him any different, though sometimes it was hard not to. After was therapy for Lucas and Eliott both, checking in and keeping one another on track. It was nice, and it wasn’t, because vulnerability was hard at times even in cases it should have been easy.

After after, there was even more to uncover. Lucas graduating high school and going to his top pick university, Eliott and Lucas coexisting in the world they’d made for themselves with such ease they felt like their lives had been leading to this point. Eliott got a job at a video store and he and Lucas would sneak away to make out between the shelves on days the store wasn’t busy.

Eliott graduated university, then Lucas, then all of a sudden they were adults, real ones this time, and they had real jobs. Spiderman was still Spiderman, but they didn’t know for how much longer. Was there an expiration date on superheroes?

They went to see the ballet from time to time, imagining another version of themselves up on the stage and giggling in their seats. A new flat, another dog, because Lucas could never say no to Eliott no matter how hard he pretended to try. Time spent and plans made, waiting for the right moment for Eliott to get down on one knee and ask Lucas to spend the rest of their minutes together.

After could have been many things, it could have been dark, Eliott without Lucas or Lucas without Eliott, and it could have been better, no exams failed or Spiderman rescue missions gone awry or food poisoning had because Lucas still put too much faith in a lethal combination of blueberries and bacon. It was all those things, technically, because in infinite worlds there were infinite versions of their lives playing out, just waiting for their next minute to come. Always Lucas and Eliott and Eliott and Lucas.

In its purest sense, after was this: not the end, just the next minute.

#skam france #elu fic #elu spiderman au #thank y'all so much for reading ily ily ily #skamfr

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mattzerella-sticks · 6 years

Text

The Spooky Specter on Set (Coda to 13x16 Scoobynatural)

Dean thought that his animated vacation was a one-time deal. So why is he back? And why are he and his friends the Scooby Gang? Dean's going to have to get through the episode, solve the mystery, and work out a few things if he's ever going to find his way out. But just what has the power to bring him back there? And who thought it was funny to make him...

(AO3)

You’re not fooling me

Cause I can see!

The way you shake and shiver

C’mon we got a mystery to solve so-

“Huh?”

Dean blinks back into awareness, adjusting to the light. He’s pressed into a warm, solid weight, nestled against soft fabric. He turns his face in towards his makeshift pillow and whines, feeling the last shackles of sleep breaking free no matter how much he wanted to stay imprisoned.

“Whoops, sorry ‘bout that Dean. Didn’t mean to wake you.”

He reels back, jarred by the deep, familiar rumble coming from his leaning post. Dean doesn’t know how long he’s gaping at Cas before blue eyes meet his. It’s only for a moment – a concerned glance before he has to return focus onto the road.

“I know you can be picky about the music,” Cas says, grip tightening on the wheel, “but I figured a quiet van might make for an easier rest.” Dean wants to make a comment – they drive a car, not a van – but another voice pops up.

“Makes it easier to read, that’s for sure.”

Dean has to crane his head back to where Sam is sitting, nose buried in a book. He looks up slightly, to meet Sam’s eyes and – ‘When did Sam start wearing glasses?’

Next to Sam, Jack tilts his head in concern. It’s the same expression as the Doberman slobbering all over his leg. “Like, are you okay, Dean?” Jack asks, “You look like someone scuffed your boots.”

Dean wants to scoff. To fire back a witty retort, saying that he’s gotten far worse on his boots then a scuff. To tell Jack to stop looking at him like that and kick the dog out his Baby. But then he notices.

How spacious the back of the car is – there’s no backseat, just a flat bed where Sam and Jack and that dog can spread out. How the roof isn’t hovering inches away, in fact a good foot above his head. How the usual track deck was replaced with a sky blue and slime green 8-track player. The fuzzy dice hanging over the rearview mirror.

“What the -,” Dean wheezes, looking around, “Where’s Baby?”

The Doberman perks up, and she tilts her head to the side again, “Ri’m right rere, Rean.”

‘This is it,’ Dean thinks, staring wide-eyed into the deep brown eyes of a talking Doberman, ‘I’ve officially lost my mind.’

“Dean,” Cas starts, drawing Dean away from ‘Baby’ and to him, “You don’t – are you feeling okay?” He’s not that observant – anyone with functioning vision could tell Dean wasn’t doing his best. Dean’s trying not to fall into a panic attack, but it seems like he can’t get enough air into his lungs. “Maybe,” Cas continues, “Maybe your scarf is too tight? Why don’t you loosen it?”

‘Scarf?’ Dean feels for the material around his neck, and loosens it the tiniest bit. It’s not a lot, but his breathing does start to even out. Probably because instead of worrying about the car – ‘van, I’m in a van’ – Dean’s focus is drawn to the scarf.

The green scarf with ends that hang delicately at the dip of his collarbone. It pairs nicely with the snug, purple button-down he’s wearing and – ‘bubblegum pink jeans?!?’

‘No, c’mon… why am I…’

It seemed like only yesterday he, Sam, and Cas had jumped out of the cartoon world and back into theirs. It was an unusual adventure – the only normalcy being the dead bodies they happened upon. But they solved the case, helped a poor boy, made some friends, and fulfilled a couple, but not all, of Dean’s childhood fantasies.

Yet here he is. Back in the Mystery Machine – only now instead of meeting the Scooby gang, they’ve become them. And curse whatever ghost, spell, or trickster that decided he should be Daphne. When he said he wanted in Daphne’s pants, he never meant it literally.

“Is that better, Dean?” Cas asks, drawing him away from further spiraling. He takes a good look at him, and tries not to frown. Dean may not have been Fred’s biggest fan, but at least he got to drive the damn Mystery Machine. Why give that power to Cas? He’s a total Scooby.

He’s not even in his usual get-up, either: the tan trench coat and blue tie exchanged for a similarly colored sweater and ascot.

There isn’t much he can do. It doesn’t look like anyone else can tell there’s something wrong with the situation. Sam has finally abandoned his book and is giving him a weird calculated stare that would be scarier if he wasn’t being cocooned by the orange turtleneck he’s wearing. At least Jack and… Baby… have moved on to sandwiches. Those two are wearing exactly what Shaggy and Scooby wore; save for Baby’s tag demarking a solitary ‘B’.

His plan of action is clear: play along until the mystery is solved and they’re zapped back into their own world. Maybe figure out what spirit is causing it this time. If it worked once before, it can work again.

“Yeah,” Dean sighs, pressing up against Cas again, “I think I just woke up too fast.”

Sam snorts, turning back to his reading. He says, “Leave it to Dean to find a way to make even napping dangerous.”

Dean bites back the ‘Bitch’ that’s balancing precariously on his tongue. It would be easy, but judging by the wholesomeness of the van, he’s afraid his PG-13 language would be too sensitive for their ears. So instead he turns his attention back to Cas.

“So,” he starts, getting comfortable, “how long was I out for?”

“A while,” Cas says, glancing down at him with a smile, “You conked out pretty early, muttering about ‘early starts’ and ‘beauty sleep’,” Dean blushes, “But you woke up at a good time. We’re almost there.”

“Almost where?”

“Like, you can’t be serious!” Jack yelps from behind, leaning up until his head presses between Dean and Cas. Dean frowns at the kid, upset at how rudely he butted in. “We’re only going to see the most fantastic, super amazing, spectacular television show in all of television history!” Jack continues, Baby nodding along behind, going “Reah, reah!”

“Given that television hasn’t been around that long, there isn’t much to that claim,” Sam says, without even looking up, “Although having been on the air for this long… that, I will admit, is a laudable feat.”

“Like anyone could ever cancel Dick Morrison, Ghost Detective!” Jack says, plopping back on his rear, “There’s no mystery that man can’t solve!”

Cas, this time, leans closer to Dean, whispering, “You’d think he’d get this excited when it comes to our mysteries.” Dean bites back a giggle – because he’s a man – but there’s no harm in the chuckle that rasps its way from between his lips.

“Like, whatever man,” Jack says, crossing his arms, “Second-hand excitement is, like, all I can handle.”

“Still, it must get tedious to watch someone do exactly what you do, shouldn’t it?” Sam asks, abandoning his book.

“Yeah,” Dean agrees, “Shouldn’t television be about escape and relaxation?”

“Like, c’mon, Dean!” Jack whines, “You’re supposed to be on my side!”

Dean blinks at him, “I am?”

Sam snorts, “Please, we all know why Dean happens to like that show – and it’s not because of the plot.” Dean glares at him, trying to piece together what he meant. And why the comment had Cas bristling beside him.

“Look, we can all gang up on Jack later,” Cas says, “We’re rounding the block – everyone be on your best behavior.” The grumbled assent puts a small smile on Cas’s face, which he shares with Dean. It’s a special one that shines from his eyes and works at the crinkles near there. He returns it, of course. Not because of the weird flutter in his chest, but because it would be rude not to.

‘Oh, whatever!’

He’ll do what it takes to solve this case – but not that. The ghoul can put Dean in the purple boots but he can’t take the scratchy flannel out of Dean.

He looks down, eyeing his shoes.

‘Who even owns purple boots?’

For the Groovy Sixties, this studio sure looks cutting edge. Well, for its time. Dean was looking over a large camera while the rest of his gang filtered their way in. He needed to distract himself with something – on the way in, he’d already been accosted by the security guard, the janitor, two production assistants, and three extras. One who had been over seventy.

It wasn’t easy being Daphne.

“They are fascinating, aren’t they?”

Case in point: the guy who’s plastered to his back, whispering into his ear.

“Yeah, man,” Dean sighed bitterly, “But I don’t think you need to inspect it this close – oh.”

Dean had turned to give him his piece of mind – he’d had enough: key word here being had. Because after catching a good look at the man, the fight left his body. Like his steely, grey eyes were the calamine lotion that soothed his prickly irritation.

“My apologies,” he said, taking a scant step backwards, “I didn’t mean to startle you. I just believe that when it comes to inspecting true beauties,” he grins, raking his eyes over Dean’s body, “one must get as close as possible.”

Dean can’t help it this time – he giggles. He couldn’t hold it in, distracted, unable to put more than two words together let alone control reactions. It slipped out. But it was the right call, because now his eyes are shining, and Dean’s skin is flushing deeper, and –

“Like, it’s Dick Morrison!”

Jack and Baby pounce, pushing Dean back and away into something solid – Cas, by the deep ‘oof’.

“Please, please, call me Dominic,” he says, “I just play Dick on television.”

“Like, Dick – I mean, Mr. Morrison – no, no Dominic,” Jack rushes out, stumbling over himself, “I’m a huge fan,” he holds up a small notepad, “Could I, like, get your autograph?”

“Reah, reah,” Baby nods, holding up her own notepad, “Rautograph!”

“Anything for my fans,” he takes a pad, signing without looking, eyes trained on Dean, “I take it you are the winners we were told would be joining us?”

“Yep!” Jack carries on, “Me ‘n Baby here entered your ‘Spend a Day on Set with Dick’ contest, and we brought our friends: Cas, Sam, and Dean.”

“Dean,” Dominic practically purrs his name, stepping forward to grab his hand, “Pleasure to make your acquaintance.” He presses a light kiss to Dean’s knuckles. Dean would say he enjoyed it, but there were two things making that hard. The fact that Dominic was a dude, and the serious glare Cas is shooting the man.

“Pantomere!” a heavy-set man in a sweat-stained button-down calls, “You’re needed for the next scene. Stop making eyes and get a move on.”

“Unfortunately, our time is cut short,” he says, frowning a beat before dazzling Dean with another smile. “Wait for me, and when I’m done, we can pick up where we left off.” He squeezes Dean’s hand before walking away, his trench coat billowing behind him. Dean didn’t even realize he was wearing one, too caught up in the scene to pay any attention.

Cas clears his throat behind him, and Dean turns around sheepishly. He doesn’t know why – just because Cas is Fred and Dean is Daphne doesn’t mean Dean and Cas are Fred and Daphne. But the anxious worry is still there, like being caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“And just what,” he starts, flexing and releasing his fists, “was interrupted?”

Dean blushes, unable to meet Cas’s interrogative eyes.

“S’nothin’,” he mutters, “We were looking at the camera –“

“Typical,” Sam cuts in, smirking, “We’re here not five minutes and the first thing you head towards is the camera. Classic Dean.”

Dean glares at him, “Could you be quiet, peanut gallery?” Sam shrugs, looking quiet pleased. He can just picture the canary feathers poking out of Sam’s feline smile.

“Can you believe it,” Jack joins in, staring at Dominic’s writing, “Dick Morrison’s autograph! This day is shaping up to be really hip!”

“Rou raid it, Rack,” Baby said, “Really rip! Reheeheeheehee!”

Another production assistant slides by, looking at her clipboard, “Quiet on set! We’ll be shooting in five – everyone be ready!”

“C’mon,” Jack says, “Let’s get a good seat! I wanna be able to feel the action!”

“Jack,” Sam starts, about to lecture Jack on small-screen acting and the power of editing, but the excited innocence startles him, and he lets his words slide away, “Sure, buddy, let’s find a spot.” They follow the assistant, Baby on their heels.

Dean tries to follow, but a firm grip tugs at his wrist. He turns, Cas still looking at him in that strange and electrifying way. Dean tries to shake it off, not used to feeling like this. At least… as a cartoon.

“Everything good?” Dean asks him.

Cas opens his mouth, as if to say something. But after a beat, he closes, something in his eyes shifting course. “No,” he says, “it’s… it’s fine,” he clenches his jaw, “We should follow… go and watch Dominic.”

Cas’s voice is blendered gravel on a good day, but when he said Dominic’s name it struck a harsh chord; like it were an avalanche rolling thunderously down a mountainside.

“You sure?” Dean continues, “I mean… yeah, we were close but it wasn’t gonna go anywhere,” he’s blushing, ducking his head, avoiding Cas’s searching eyes.

“Didn’t look that way,” Cas mutters, “How flustered you were getting –“

Dean cuts him off, “I don’t get flustered, especially over guys.” It’s defensive – too much. He laid it on thick, Cas’s suspicion raising the hairs on his neck. Still, Dean needed to lay the law down. He might be Daphne, but broad shoulders and ascots don’t do it for him.

Except Dominic’s shoulders were kind of slim and narrow. And he had a red tie, not an ascot.

He’s looking at broad shoulders and an ascot and too-blue eyes and a cute smirk and –

“ZOINKS!!!!!!!”

They turn, looking at where their friends walked off. Cas darts forward, hand still on Dean’s wrist, dragging him. He doesn’t pull free until they’re at the scene, and even then he waits a few seconds.

It’s a sight. An upturned desk, scattered papers, a shattered light. Dominic is being fawned over by several people, and Jack and Baby are shaking in Sam’s arms.

“What happened?”

Sam turns to them, dropping the terrified twosome and stepping over to them. “It turns out art imitates life.”

Dean scrunches his face up in confusion, “What?”

Sam points to a nearby wall, where large, dripping red letters are practically carved into the plywood.

L E A V E T H E S H O W A N D N E V E R R E T U R N

“Who could have done such a thing?” Cas asks, turning back to Sam.

Jack and Baby, somewhat out of their stupor, still clinging tight to each other, bark out a shaky, “G-G-G-G-GHOST!”

Dean can’t help the thought that crosses his mind:

‘Again?’

Apparently, this wasn’t the first incident. There’d been other attempts made during filming – each Dominic tried to downplay as his director overplayed them.

“Do not worry, Dean,” he was whispering to him, while the director talked the others’ ears off, “I face stuff like this all the time on the show. I do not scare easily.”

It was easier to push him away now that the case appeared. “Neither do I,” he grinned, pulling away from the hand on his lower back and towards his friends. “So,” he says to them, “What’s the plan? Interview the crew, see if there’s any unfinished business here by some dead, disgruntled worker then a good ol’ salt and burn?” Four pairs of blank stares blink back at him. His mind catches up with his mouth, and he feels heat crawling up his cheeks.

‘So more like a regular episode and less like a day in my life,’ Dean thinks, ‘Looking more and more like a Trickster… if he were still alive.’

“I mean, uh,” Dean continues, hoping what he says next is true, “That’s what they do on the show, right?”

“Not everything you see on television is true, Dean,” Sam admonishes. Dean would be annoyed if his quick thinking didn’t pay off. “Besides,” Sam says, “This isn’t a ghost –“

“But we saw it!” Jack says, “It had a pale, icky face… long, dark hair… bloody, sharp claws -!”

“Rand a rhostly rail!” Baby adds, paws akimbo in a mock imitation, “Roud and rary!”

“Whatever it is,” Cas says, “It seems to be scaring a lot of people. We need to get to the bottom of this, and fast!”

“Then we better start looking for clues, then?” Dean asks, “Maybe around the scene?” He jerks a thumb over towards the ruined detective’s office, and the gang heads over soon enough. Well, almost all of them. Dean sees Jack and Baby sneaking off towards craft services, but pays them little mind. Not like they came in handy until towards the end of the episode – when they needed bait.

Sam begins inspecting the letters (“It’s paint – not blood.”) while Cas looks over a few of the marks left by the ghost’s entrance. Dean decided to check around the desk. Besides the tattered scraps of paper lying about – pages of a script marked to hell – there’s nothing else really catching his eye. No slime, no shine… another sign they’re dealing with a more human monster.

‘Wonder if someone’s trying to buy the studio…’

“Excuse me, just what do you think you’re doing?”

Dean looks up, where a scrawny man is glaring at him, half his face obscured by the large beret he’s wearing.

“Umm… cleaning?” Dean tries, but the unimpressed expression doesn’t bode well for any chance at stardom.

“Mister DeMilo, be kind,” Dominic approaches, having changed into a fuzzy-white robe, “He’s a guest – one of the contest winners.”

“Oh.” That’s not a good sign. Neither is the creeping intensity of his stare. “Of course, not only do I have to deal with this mess, but the danged marketing gimmick is interrupting my creative work.”

“With all due respect, sir,” Cas starts, walking over to them, “We know a thing or two about solving mysteries – and we can help you out.”

DeMilo points an accusing finger at him, “What you can all do is get out of my way, and stay sequestered somewhere out of my sight until this day is over, got it?”

“Hey,” Dean barks, getting between DeMilo and Cas, “We’re trying to help. No need to act like that.”

“And you should learn some manners, boy,” DeMilo warns, “Before speaking to someone like me. Now, Pantomere,” he turns to his actor, “Don’t think that this means you get an extended break. Once the crew gets rid of the… mess,” he casts a withering glance at them, “we are getting back on track. If you need me, I’ll be in my trailer.” He stomps away before Dean could get in a good hit.

‘Keep your cool, Dean,’ he thinks, fist tight, ‘Daphne doesn’t punch.’

But she does know how to use her mouth. “Well… he’s a piece of work, ain’t he?” he asks, Cas’s snort a sign of agreement.

“He’s a little rough around the edges,” Dominic apologizes, “But he’s really dedicated to his work. We were lucky to get such a big profile name to be a regular director –“

“Wait,” Sam stops him, “DeMilo? You mean that was Vince DeMilo?”

Dean shoots him a weird look, “You know who that was?”

“Vince DeMilo is an award-winning film director,” Sam continues, “What’s he doing working in television?” He looks at Dominic, “No offense.”

“None taken,” he shrugs, “I was surprised as well. But the studio paid a pretty penny for him – why we had to cut our episodes down,” he turns to Dean, winking, “And why my trailer is much more intimate. If you need to investigate…”

“We’ll get there soon enough,” Cas steps in, mouth set and firm. Dean rolls his eyes.

‘Men.’

Cas and Dominic seem to be in a staring match, neither wanting to be the first to look away. Dean would do something about it, if he wanted to. But there was something about the scene that punched him in the gut and took his breath. Maybe the cocky grin and brows of Dominic, or the righteous fury sparking out from behind Cas’s eyes. It was something out of a Western, which appealed more to Dean’s sensibilities than this hippie period.

Thankfully, Sam still has his senses about him to step in. “If you two are done,” he says, “We need to get back to what we’re doing.”

“My apologies,” he says, stepping past Cas and to Dean, “if you need me, I’ll be running lines with my co-star. Work never stops…” he presses another kiss to Dean’s knuckles, but this time he pulls his hand back instead of letting it linger in Dominic’s smooth palm. He winks, and struts away, oblivious or uncaring to Cas’s fiery stare.

Dean turns to him, “Cas…”

“I think I’ll go make sure Jack and Baby haven’t eaten the crew out of their meals,” he says, walking off in the other direction. Dean watches him, wanting to say something. But the thick feelings of disappointment and shame choke him, and he focuses on that. Because why should he be ashamed of not saying anything to stop Dominic. Or disappointed that Cas didn’t… defend his honor or something.

He’s Fred, and Dean might be Daphne… but they’re not Fred and Daphne…

‘Right?’

“What you’re doing isn’t right, y’know,” Sam says, knocking Dean out of his thoughts. He’s giving him a bitch face – at least they kept thatin this cartoon.

Dean stills, his fear replacing everything else. That maybe Sam can hear what he’s thinking – judging him for the feelings that clearly aren’t his.

Because they’re not his. They’re Daphne’s. That’s the story he’s sticking to.

“I don’t,” he wheezes, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “Look, I know you’re star struck –“

“I am not star struck –“

“Dean,” Sam stops him, “I’ve seen your poster of Dominic hanging in your room.” And now Dean feels that shame again, “And just because he’s famous doesn’t mean you have to be nice.”

“I’m not being nice.”

“Yes, you are!” Sam groans, “You always act like this when someone flirts with you. I’d have thought you’d grown out of it since…” ‘Since what?’ “well, y’know,” ‘No, I don’t know!’ “But in front of his face? That’s low.”

Dean might have a sneaking suspicion of what Sam is getting at, but he doesn’t get the chance to see if he’s right. Not before Cas, Jack, and Baby are sprinting towards them – with a ghastly figure on their tails.

“Run!”

“Like, that was a close one!” Jack rasps out, leaning against Baby while he and the others catch their breaths. The Specter (‘So generic, did he name himself?’) had run on ahead, not bothering to check the supply closet the group hid in.

“You said it,” Cas says, standing up straight, “Gang, this monster doesn’t want us looking into it. So you know what that means?”

“We should, like, listen to it and get going?”

“Reah, reah!”

“No, Jack, Baby, we need… to split up!”

Dean sighs; thankful they’re up to this part already. ‘Halfway out of this emotional turmoil.’

“Alright,” Dean claps Cas on the shoulder, “Where are you and I going?” Cas gives him an odd look, uncertain what to make of Dean’s statement. Now if that doesn’t twist the knife deeper into his wounded heart?

“Are you sure?” Cas asks, murmuring, “If you run into Dominic again… I don’t want to – to cramp your style.”

Dean winces. It wasn’t a pretty sight, that’s for sure. During the chase, Dean had tripped – because of course. Cas tried to catch him, but got barreled over by Baby and Jack, while Dominic managed to make the save. He was leaning in close after, as if to sneak a quick ‘thank you’, before Cas grabbed Dean’s arm, ripping him from Dominic’s embrace. Dean squawked, more annoyed at Cas for nearly pulling his arm out of his socket than freeing him from the actor’s hold.

But it mustn’t have looked that way to him.

“There’s nowhere I’d rather be,” Dean smiles, hoping it soothes over the hurt. And he means it, too. For once, this isn’t a Daphne feeling. Cas always makes him feel better, and when he’s out of sight there’s nothing left but the mosquito-like worry for his return.

The slight blush working its way up his cheeks because of Cas’s boyish grin – that Dean blames on Daphne.

“Okay,” Cas says, turning back to the gang, “So Dean and I will check out more of the studio. Maybe see if there are any offices we can take a peek in. Sam – you, Jack, and Baby can turn over the trailers.”

“Oh no,” Jack says, “Baby and I are going to go wait in the van until you three come to your senses and join us!” Baby nods, mirroring his crossed arms and fierce frown.

Sam sighs, “Would you two do it for some Baby Bites?” He pulls the box seemingly out of nowhere – but that doesn’t matter in a cartoon. What matters is that soon enough, the three of them are on their way towards the trailers while Cas and Dean dive deeper into the studio.

“Look,” Cas starts, “I want to… apologize, if I am acting a bit strange,” he’s not meeting Dean’s eyes, and he seems to be fiddling with his ascot, “I know that you’d never… with Dominic. I just – I’m nervous –“

“You? Nervous?” Dean chuckles, “I thought you ‘don’t sweat’?”

“I do, though,” Cas continues, “I sweat, I doubt, I – I get jealous,” he sighs, wringing his hands, “I know I shouldn’t be, we discussed the possibility of this happening when Jack and Baby won,” ‘We did?’ “But talking and joking about it is entirely different than seeing it with my own eyes.” And, ‘ah shit’, there’s no masking the pain in Cas’s voice.

Sam was right, whatever Dean is doing – it’s low. And Cas, sweet, lovable, big-hearted Cas, is suffering from Dean’s blindsided actions. He needs to stop letting Daphne get into his head and be firm. Just because some guy gives you a smile, oozes on the charm and lays it on thick, doesn’t mean Dean has to give him the time of day.

Daphne might have been nice to Dean, but Dean doesn’t have to be like that for Dominic.

And then it hits him. He stops, eyes wide as the realization rolls over.

“Dean?” Cas asks, stopping just outside an office door, “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Dean wheezes out, “S’fine… peachy. This the place?”

“Looks like the producer’s office,” Cas reads the nameplate, “Let’s check it out.”

The door’s unlocked – because of course – so there’s not much trouble in their investigation. The only problem is Dean’s mind, unfocused because it’s busy laying into him about his own actions.

‘Daphne was never interested in you, ya doof,’ he starts, ‘She’s just too nice to say no – it’s how she was written. Her heart belonged to Fred, there was nothing you could have done to convince her you were even an option.’ And thinking about that doesn’t put him in any great mood either. It was like finding out Santa Claus wasn’t real – he held onto that little bit of his childhood for so long. Now, he’s spiraling without it, on uneven footing – with no idea where to turn or what was next.

“Hey, Dean, take a look at this.”

Snapping out of his daze, Dean makes his way over to Cas. At least he knows where he stands with him. There are a few papers in his hands, and he’s furrowed his brow in thought.

“What do you have?” Dean asks, taking some of the pages in his hands and glancing through them.

“I’m not sure… there’s a lot there, but nothing that adds up to one suspect,” Cas says, “You’re looking at the contract for DeMilo –“

“Wow that’s a lot of money!”

“You’d think,” Cas says, “But from these secretary notes, DeMilo was insulted. That if he wasn’t unable to work anywhere else, he would turn them away.”

“With a personality like that, who’d want him?”

Cas smiles, “They don’t want him for his personality, but for his talent.” Dean chuckles, agreeing.

“What else is there?”

“Just more notes,” Cas says, flipping through pages, “Meetings with different people about the show… oh.”

“What?”

“Very hurried notes… from a meeting between the producer and… Dominic,” Cas grumbles, “It seems he…”

“He… he what?”

“I’m not sure,” Cas admits, “These are smudged. No idea what they could be.”

“It’s okay,” Dean says, squeezing at Cas’s elbow, “I’m sure it was probably something like he needs a new trailer or he’s had it up to herewith the food on set.” Cas snorts, shooting an amused glance at Dean. The uptick of his mouth is just what Dean wanted to see, and something blooms in Dean’s chest. It causes him to stand a bit straighter, his heart to beat faster, and to really take in Cas’s face – ‘how can animated lips look so plush?’

‘Maybe this is why you’re Daphne.’

Like a switch, Dean feels his world up-end. He lets go and takes a step back, trapping himself between Cas and the desk. His eyes are wide, and he’s moving his mouth – but no words come out.

Cas drops the papers and moves closer, reaching out, “Dean? Are you alright?”

“Y – yeah…” Dean rasps, moving further away, walking around the desk, “Just feel a bit… light-headed. I think I might take a seat.”

And that’s why he should have seen it coming. You don’t just ‘sit’ when you’re in Scooby-Doo. Especially when you’re Daphne.

Because that chair is going to fly back, and Dean will find himself in a dark room, alone, with nothing but the monster.

‘Should have known,’ Dean thinks, watching as Cas tries to save him, ‘Damn not-background props.’

The wall slam shuts.

The one thing Dean didn’t need right now was to be alone with his thoughts. But when you’re tied up, blindfolded, and gagged – all you have are your thoughts.

‘This is ridiculous,’ he thinks, ‘They made it look so quick in the show – how long was Daphne tied up whenever this happened?!?’

He gave up struggling half-and-hour ago. By cartoon law – old-school cartoon law – Dean was here until his friends found him, or the monster happened to let him go. And judging by how tight the rope on his wrists is, that won’t be anytime soon.

‘The perks of being the damsel in distress…’

Why couldn’t he have been live-action Daphne instead of the original? At least Sarah Michele-Gellar kicked some serious ass. She’s never the damsel – straight up.

But no, he has to wait for his knight in shining ascot to waltz in and free him.

Until then… all he can do is think.

‘I learned my lesson, didn’t I? That’s why whoever did this made me Daphne. To show what it’s like to walk a mile in her purple pumps? So get me out of here!’

…Nothing.

Well, until someone stumbles upon him, he might as well sort a couple of things out. Maybe if he hits the right epiphany, he won’t need the cavalry to come barging in. He can be out of this show and back to his normal life like before. …Unless the ropes and the blindfold and the gag come with, too.

He doesn’t need live-action Cas seeing him like this anymore than animated Cas.

And – ‘oh crap,’ – why did he have to think that? He doesn’t want to be anymore uncomfortable. But, this show must be PG through and through, because the familiar stirring and tightness doesn’t pop up.

…Not that thoughts of Cas and those warm, good feelings were well acquainted in the first place.

Those feelings popped up when a bartender’s shirt was a little too low-cut, when a waitress customer service became a little too friendly, whenever he flipped the station over to Scooby-Doo to catch sight of that special member of the gang.

In fact, that show was what kindled the roaring fire of Dean’s sexuality. He’s not ashamed to admit he popped his first boner to a cartoon – who hasn’t in today’s day and age. And who could blame him? That episode had probably been one of the animators’ best works. Just thinking about how each scene with Fred –

‘…With Fred?’

No, it must be Daphne – her personality is slipping through again. He’d always been jealous of Fred – the guy didn’t deserve what they gave him. He got to hold Daphne with his big, beefy arms, smile at her with his perfect grin, take charge when the goings got rough and tough and –

‘Holy crap,’ Dean realizes, ‘I had a crush on Fred.’

Dean is glad he’s gagged because he would rather not hear the hysterical squawk that tried to pass his lips. Instead he’s got to deal with the whirlwind of thoughts about things like perspective and clarity.

‘Somebody please come quick and save me!’

Nothing. He’s tied up, with no sight, no voice, and now he’s dealing with a gay panic. Why couldn’t he suffer the sixties bleaching everyone else’s thoughts had gotten. Instead, a single cartoon character has upended his entire near forty years of life.

‘Better late then never, though… right?’

So, maybe he had a crush on Fred. He’s man enough to admit liking another man. It’s not like it meant anything – he was a cartoon character! Those things are genderless, right? It’d only mean something if he had a crush on an actual human man.

And Dr. Sexy doesn’t count. Neither does Harrison Ford – Indiana Jones and Han Solo (‘like anyone could choose between those two’). Nor Gunner, that was hero worship. And Ryder, a kid he used to trade hand jobs with behind the bleachers, he didn’t count; those were business transactions. Benny didn’t either because he was a vampire. And if Benny doesn’t count then you better believe he’s not gonna count –

‘If you have this many exceptions,’ Dean thinks, ‘Maybe you’re not as straight as you think.’

That was the nail in the coffin of Dean’s heterosexuality. He salts and burns the corpse, just to make sure it doesn’t linger. Because now that he’s admitted it, he can’t go back.

‘Not like I’m fully gay anyway,’ he rationalizes, ‘Still like girls. I just… expanded my tastes.’

And no one says he ever has to act on those tastes. Dean has a good enough self-control, if he’s held himself at bay for ten years, he can handle the rest of his life.

‘Ten years,’ he thinks, ‘that’s specific.’

It’s not like there’s been anything in the past decade or so that started making cracks in the foundation of his sexuality. Nothing he can think of. Not one person. If there was, he’d have to be a bad-ass, a total stud, with a jaw that can cut glass and a voice that’s been bathed in shards and really intense baby-blues…

‘Maybe that’s why you’re Daphne,’ he thinks, ‘Because he’s Fred.’

And that’s when they find him.

“Like I said, I’m fine.”

Dean blushes at the concern, unable to meet Cas’s eyes. It was hard enough not to stare into them when they’re the only things he can see. Cas’s face was close and personal when he untied Dean’s blindfold.

He felt both safe and in danger at the same time – his fight or flight reflexes thrown into haywire.

Dean had been hidden away in a prop closet, and missing for a good few hours. Thankfully, Baby managed to catch his scent at some point, and the four of them found him.

“Lucky for us you’re so Danger-prone, Dean,” Sam says, “because of you, we were able to find a few more clues.”

“You were?”

“Yes,” Cas smiles, squeezing his shoulder, “And we’ve got nearly all the pieces to solve this mystery.”

Dean blinks – ‘I must have missed out on a lot,’ – “So what’s left?”

“The monster,” Cas smiles, “It’s time for the trap!”

The trap. Which means Dean is walking closer and closer towards the light. Too bad he still has to deal with the trap’s failure, the chase, and the twist capture. But the way Cas’s eyes light up when he details just how they’re going to capture the Specter… he doesn’t have the heart to say anything.

He’ll just watch it go up in flames and then – and then he’ll just make it up as they go.

And boy, does it go up in flames. Literally. Jack and Baby are lucky that they don’t get burned. But with the monster still running free, it seems they’ve got one thing left to do before they unmask this creep.

The chase montage; cue the groovy music!

Cas, Dean, and Sam hightail it out of there, making their rounds throughout the studio. They separate and group up in a bunch of different combinations. At one point, Sam, him, and Baby were running across a light platform with the Specter close behind them. At one point he thinks he saw Jack and Baby plop the monster down in a chair and slapstick some makeup on him.

And the doors – second time around doesn’t make it any less confusing. He thinks he might have been chasing the Specter at one point.

At least the music isn’t half-bad.

‘I wonder if anyone else can hear it?’

It doesn’t matter, as it fades away soon enough – leaving him, Cas, and Sam cornered by the Specter.

“You didn’t heed my warning,” it moans, “now prepare to pay the price!” He advances, claws up and getting closers. Dean huddles close to Cas, throwing his arms around his neck.

‘C’mon, where’s the damn miracle!’

“Like, watch out!”

Jack and Baby descend in the nick of time, riding the rope of a fallen sandbag. They jump towards them, letting the bag knock the Specter out in that non-threatening cartoon way.

“We did it!” Cas cries, “We got the Specter!”

“Now let’s get this show on the road, then,” Dean walks towards the Specter, taking the rope from the sandbag and wrapping it up in it before it could escape. He can feel the rest of the gang crowd around them, ready to announce the person behind the mask. Dean can’t wait, putting his fingers under the sweaty latex and tearing it from the neck up.

He didn’t expect who was under the mask, but judging by the cries of his friends, they knew.

“Dominic Pantomere!”

“What?”

Dominic glares up at Dean from his position, any trace of charm and glamour gone from his face.

“Just like I thought,” Sam says, pushing his glasses up his nose, “Dominic Pantomere –“

“Hold it,” Dean cuts him off, “Just how does this make any sense?”

“It was obvious, really,” Sam continues, “Our biggest clue came from the trailer. While Jack and Baby distracted Dominic with questions about the show, I happened to find a letter from his manager, discussing needed reassurance that he’d be available for a new movie.”

“Which lines up with what we found in the producer’s office,” Cas continues, “It was written in shorthand – about a fight between Dominic and the producer about his contract. Apparently, he wanted this to be the last season. But with great fan appeal and committed backing, Dick Morrison would be going on for a long time.”

“Just beat that dead horse, why don’t they?” Dean huffs.

“You don’t know the half of it,” Dominic speaks up, just as security made their way over, “Do you know how disappointing it is to have this be my only career? I was promised fame, fortune, and awards – not a lifetime of servitude wasting my talent acting with less worthy actors!” The guards drag him up by his elbows, putting him at eye level with Dean, “I deserve so much more than this gig. I was named one of Hollywood’s most eligible bachelors! I was made for so much more than this!”

“Yeah, well it looks like you’re not gonna be made for much after this, bub,” he taps him on the cheek, “Have fun being an extra!”

“I was going to be a star!” he shouts, kicking and flailing against the floor, “I would have had it all… if it weren’t for you meddling kids!”

‘That never gets old.’

“Well… I think it’s safe to say that the Ghost Detective has closed his last case,” Dean jokes, turning to everyone.

Jack looks close to tears, sighing, “Why can’t I ever have nice things.”

“Rou ro, Rack,” Baby comforts him, “Rere’s rizza… randwiches… rice ream… raggheti…”

“Now I’m sad and hungry!”

“Come on you two,” Sam grabs them by their collars, “Let’s get you fed.”

“Like, thanks Sam!”

“Reah, ranks Ram!”

They disappear not soon after, leaving just Dean and Cas in the large, empty studio. A weird draft works its way through the building, and Dean takes a step closer to Cas and his weird warmth.

‘Fred and Daphne… Fred and Daphne… Fred and Daphne…’

“So, Cas,” Dean starts, licking his lips, “You must be very happy Dominic was under the mask… is that why you couldn’t wait to set up the trap?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Cas smiles, reaching out to tangle his fingers with Dean’s, “It didn’t make me feel bad, however. I knew there was something off about him.”

“You just didn’t like the way he looked at me,” Dean giggles, pressing his forehead in close. Cas darts his eyes to Dean’s lips, and he licks his own.

“But,” Dean continues, “I do like the way you look at me.”

Cas flutters his eyes closed, “Oh, Dean…”

“Cas?”

“Dean…”

“Dean?”

Dean blinks back into awareness, where Cas is looking over him with his usual head tilt. He jumps up.

“Jeepers!” he cries, “I’m back?”

“Back?” Cas asks, “Where did you go?”

“You mean you don’t remember?” Dean asks, “We were… we were back in Scooby Doo – but, like we were Scooby Doo. You, me, Sam… Jack – even Baby was there! But Baby wasn’t Baby, she was a dog!”

“Dean, you… you didn’t go anywhere.”

He shoots him a weird look. “What are you talkin’ about Cas? It was so… so vivid. I had to have been transported by some spell or ghost or… whatever.” Dean looks towards the TV – the new one he picked up from Wal-Mart, smaller then the haunted one. An episode of Scooby-Doo is playing on the screen.

“No, trust me, you’ve been here the entire time,” Cas starts, sitting on the arm of Dean’s chair, “You dozed off a few hours ago during our marathon. Remember? You wanted us to officially christen your,” he holds up finger quotes, “ ‘Dean Cave’.”

“I… I did?”

Cas smiles now, letting his hand drop to Dean’s shoulder. “You were really tired. I tried to tell you I could have waited for our marathon… but you insisted. I must say you were… very convincing.” His free hand plays with Dean’s red ascot, which is tied around his own neck. Dean blushes at the sight.

‘Fred and Daphne… Fred and Daphne…’

“I gotta say, you make the ascot work better than I could, hell… even better then Fred,” Dean says, voice rough and raw. Cas looks up at him through his lashes, smiling softly. “Was that what made you stay?”

“No,” Cas admits softly, “When I asked you why you wanted to do this now, even if you looked exhausted, you simply shrugged and said ‘It don’t matter, if it’s important you make the time.’ I… I was very flattered you consider our time together important.”

“It is,” Dean blurts out, clutching at Cas’s hand – the one on his shoulder, “Hanging out with you… there’s nowhere I’d rather be.”

Cas is giving him his special look. One Dean only now realizes… is his look. Where the lips pull up ever so slightly on the side, Cas’s nose scrunches up, and his eyes… they’re brimming with an untold energy. Like a pool struck by lightning. He always figured his racing heart, sweaty palms, and dry mouth could be blamed by the power that rested behind those eyes. But it was never that. It was because of the sheer feeling Cas communicated freely, and how much Dean’s body responded in kind.

“If you’re still up to it,” Dean whispers, afraid anything louder might break the spell between them, “I’m sure we can squeeze in a few more episodes before we need to get back to work.”

“I’d like that,” Cas admits, looking to the screen, “I’ve grown fond of this show. I can see why you love it.”

Dean’s eyes never leave Cas’s profile. “Yeah, I see why I feel that way, too, now.”

On screen the episode plays out, and Dean can’t help the small thrill every time Fred and Daphne pop up – grinning at the way she looks at him.

‘Yep,’ he thinks, ‘I'm a total Daphne.’

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