#and i have never been happier to have skipped the SLS this time around in my life

[theinfinitedivides]

*chants* F*CK HIM UP F*CK HIM UP F*CK HIM UP F*CK HIM UP—

[darkredehmption]

From This Life To The Next

#SL - From This Life To The Next

Written by @DamagedBrother and @OfFeatherNFang 

*~*~*~*

Zsadist: 

This was it. Today was the day that I was going to be officially mated to my angel. I still couldn’t believe it. Like somehow, this was all a dream that I was going to sadly wake up from. But it wasn’t. He was mine and would be mine until we went into the fade. 

Quietly, I slipped out of bed and left him to rest while I moved to our closet. Finding the ceremonial robes in the back as well as something special I had Vishous make for me as a gift to my male. With my arms full, I give the angel one more glance before I head out to get ready in another room. 

My head lifts to see Phury already waiting in the hallway, a huge grin on his face. “Figured I could lend a hand.” Chuckling as I made my way over to my twin, turning to watch as Rhage came up from the stairs with four donuts in his hands and one shoved in his mouth. 

“You. Go help him get ready and make sure he doesn’t sleep through it.” Hollywood flashed a bright smile that would make hundreds of women swoon. 

“You got it chief!” He replied with his mouth full, practically skipping off towards our bedroom where I just left my male. 

“Crazy.” I mutter, gazing at my Brother. “Rhage might send Malachi running for the hills.”

“The angel isn’t going anywhere, he loves you too much.” My twin replied as we made our way to one of the guest rooms on the other side of the stairs. 

“You say that, but somehow I feel like I’m gonna fuck up.” As I reached for the door, I felt his heavy hand on my shoulder. 

“Hey...He loves you, and you love him. Matings...are wonderful...and yes you will fight, but the love doesn’t go away. And if his does...so help me I will-”

I cut him off with a laugh. “Okay. Easy now. Please don’t scare him away.” Phury smiled at me as we moved inside the guest room to prepare for the ceremony. 

Mal:

I felt the soft rustle of sheets as Zsadist slipped from the bed. Half asleep, I didn’t bother trying to follow straight away, not until I heard the soft click of the door as it closed. There was a murmur of voices beyond it, and with a slow blink I opened my eyes. 

A lull, brief enough that I barely got to feel the anxious thrill as I thought of what the day held, before the door burst in and I started up. Rhage stood on the threshold, grinning around a donut then sauntering in as he shut the door.

“Rise n’ shine princess! It’s the big day! Gotta get you up and ready!”

I actually rolled my eyes and groaned as I flopped back to the sheets. I was glad my wings weren’t out, but then again, keeping them retracted seemed the better idea when I was going to have a name carved into my back. 

Zsadist’s name.

The thought earned a smile as I extracted myself from the sheets without any prompt from Rhage and rose, stretching with a yawn and a pleasant smile. Moving past the Hollywood-worthy male, I snagged a donut amidst protest, and entered the closet. Rhage followed, grinning at the robes I ran one hand down.

“Can’t believe this is actually happening for me.”

Somewhere in the manse, my mahmen was with the females, helping prepare for the day. The Brothers had no doubt set up whatever else happened in a mating ceremony, and Z had no doubt gone to get ready with Phury. My heart gave a nervous flutter as my stomach backflipped.

“Hey, you n’ Z? I’ve never seen him happier. N’ you look a lot different than the first time I saw you,” he added thoughtfully. 

Surprised at his words, I glanced back to him.

“How did I look?”

Rhage shrugged, taking a bite of his last donut. “Lonely. Cold. Real quick on the defence, y’know? Like you were used to always fighting to survive. To live. But since you’ve been here?” His smile, unfairly, could’ve stopped traffic in Times Square. “You’re lighter. All bright n’ shiny. You laugh. Did you laugh a lot before?”

The question stunned me for its accuracy. For all the talk that Rhage was a pretty face, the dude was damn insightful. Maybe Mary was rubbing off on him.

“Not really…”

A nod, a grin, and the last of the donut vanished. “Well, now you get a new family. A new life. N’ a new reason to laugh and be happy or whatever. So c’mon. Let’s do this! You need me to step out while you drop drawers or you want help arranging the robes?”

Zsadist:

I moved into the closet to slide on the ceremonial robes, while Phury changed in the bathroom. “I can’t believe this is happening…” I call out. “Like whoever thought I’d be getting mated.” Snorts.

“Oh I knew you would.” Phury chimes in. “I didn’t know when it would be, but I knew it would happen sooner or later.”

I hear shuffling around then a deep breath. Pausing as I look in the full length mirror only to see my twin standing behind me. “Well…?” I murmur as my hands smooth down the robes. 

“Perfect.” His golden eyes shine bright as he stares at me through the mirror, turning to meet his gaze. 

“Let me show you what Vishous helped me out with.” Phury perks up as I move to grab the black velvet pouch off of the bed. Slowly I pull out two twin silver daggers. They were so light that they almost looked white, and at the hilt were black wings on each side that V carved himself into the metal 

Phury’s jaw drops. “Whoa. Okay he’s going to love those, and can I get a set?” He chuckles, landing a hand on my shoulder. “They look amazing.” 

Nodding as my fingers move over the blades. “Let’s go down and make sure everything is ready, true?” My twin nods as I secure the daggers back into the bag, heading out of the guest room, and making my way down the grand staircase to find my family already waiting. 

Mal:

The robes almost remind me of the Chosen, and then of angels. Not sure why. It’s not like I ever met my father to know how he dressed, and Lassiter has clearly got to be the exception to the rule of the whole ‘angelic presence’ thing. Nothing ‘angelic’ about his presence. Staring at myself in the mirror though, I can’t help but think of the father I never met. The angel blood in my veins. 

Would he have approved of this? Would he have come? Would he care?

“You clean up nice,” Rhage complimented, slapping my shoulder in that brotherly way as he examines me in the mirror too. “Y’ready to head down? Need anything else? If you need to puke now’s the time.”

I elbowed him with a faint smirk. His words had the desired effect though; thoughts of my father faded into the background. And while I didn’t need to upchuck, my stomach definitely had a bad case of the butterflies going on.

“Fuck off. Y’know I still don’t remember half of the ceremonial stuff. I can recite a latin incantation to exorcise a demon but I can’t fucking remember how my own mating ceremony is supposed to go,” I mutter, glancing down and fiddling with the lining of the robe.

Rhage waved off my concern like it was an insect he was swatting.

“S’just nerves my man. You’ll be fine n’ everything’ll be great. You n’ Z being happy are all that matters, so if the day ends with that it was a success, right?”

My smile’s lopsided in the mirror. “Right.”

“Then let’s go!” He declared, grinning as he backed his massive frame out of the walk in and moved to the door. 

Before leaving, I moved to my weapons shelf - mine being the one that housed demonic tools in addition to Lesser fighting gear - and opened the small box I’d tucked in amongst the others. Something I knew Zsadist wouldn’t notice. 

Nestled amongst the velvet cushions inside was a pendant, the silver chain that looped through it long and pooling in the bottom of the box. The pendant itself was perfectly smooth, clear resin, and within it, in an almost gentle curve, was one of my feathers. It was small, glossy dark, and came from that sensitive spot right by my back. The spot only Zsadist got to touch. 

Swallowing a fresh hit of nerves, I closed the lid and spirited the box in amongst the robes. Then, squaring my shoulders, I followed Rhage out into the hall and downstairs, having zero idea what to expect, but ready for it anyway.

Zsadist:

I was gathered with my family in the foyer. Everyone was there, even most of the Doggen. They all had these big smiles on their faces, and I swear a few of them were crying. Like yeah, the big bad scarred one is getting mated. As if this day would never come.

Though honestly, I never thought it would. I thought that I was doomed to spend a life by myself, and I’d accepted that long ago. But things have changed; I have changed for the better. That’s the thing about finding your other half, they make you a better person. 

“Z man, you gonna puke?” Butch chimes in and I swear I saw Fritz giving him a dirty look. 

“He does look as green as the field in Fenway Park,” Vishous replies back with a smirk. 

“Everyone shut up, and no mention of the Soxs at my mating ceremony,” I growled out, hearing both Brothers crack up. Then one throat clear from Wrath had them both silenced. At a quick glance, I saw them still smirking at me, but a heartbeat later, all amusement left their faces as their heads snapped up towards the stairs. 

And there he was. My male.

I watched with light in my eyes as he descended the grand staircase with Rhage trailing close behind. He looked so handsome in the ceremonial robes that I couldn’t wait to peel off later. Biting back a growl as they reach us, nodding off Rhage as I take Mal’s hand. 

Lassiter soon appeared beside us, asking if I would basically do anything for my mate. Which of course, I replied that I would, but I couldn’t help but get lost in Mal’s eyes. He was finally going to officially be mine. 

After Mal is asked much of the same, I tug him into my arms to share a passionate kiss with him. Trying not to get too crazy as everyone erupts with joy. The clapping dies down as I pull back to begin the carving. Tugging free the shash, the robe falls to reveal my bare chest, scars and all. I give my male one final look before I move down onto my knees. 

Wrath steps forward first with George close behind. His hand blindly reaches out until it makes contact with my back. “What is the name of your Hellren?” The King’s booming voice echoes in the foyer. 

“Malachi.” I say proudly. 

In a quick swift movement, I felt Wrath dig the tip of the dagger into my flesh to form an M in the old language. I didn’t doubt for one second that he couldn’t do it properly. Blind or not, the male still could slice up anything with a blade. 

One by one each Brother stepped forward to mark a letter, when it was finally Phury’s turn, I couldn’t help but stare into his eyes that matched my own. 

With unshed tears in his eyes he mouthed ‘I’m so proud of you’.

I nod in return, feeling him at my back to dig in the final letter. Once it was all said and done Fritz stepped forward with a pitcher of water and a bowl of salt. This was one wound that I didn’t mind scarring my flesh. 

After the water is mixed with the salt, Phury dumps the thick, briny liquid down my back. But I don’t cry out. I just accept the pain as I stare into the eyes of the one I loved, my Brothers growling in approval. 

Soon after Phury bent down and opened the lacquer box, taking out a pristine white cloth. He dried the wounds then rolled the material up and put it back inside. 

“Rise my twin.” He spoke.

Slowly I got up. Across my shoulders, in an arch of Old English letters, was the angel’s name in my skin. 

My twin handed over the box with a big smile on his face. “Take this to your Hellren as a symbol of your strength, so he will know that you are worthy of him and that your body, your heart, and your soul are now his to command.”

Slowly I turned around to face the angel and I quickly dropped to my knees, lifting the box to present it to him. “Will you take me as your own?” I asked as my eyes just stared deeply into his.

Mal:

Standing aside to watch Zsadist have my name carved first was a test of willpower. I’d never actively stood by and watched another make my mate bleed, and I swallowed every growl and every snarl that rose in my throat as the scent of his blood stained the air.

My mahmen stepped in beside me, the only female here that truly knew me, and I gratefully accepted the grip of her hand as she held on and squeezed. She was smiling though, the look on her face one that could only be described as proud and happy. Because I’d found someone that made me happy. 

Bending down, I brushed my lips to her cheek, earning a gentle pat to my chest in response. Then I was focusing on Zsadist again, watching as the blades made every line of my stupidly long name. Should’ve just gone with ‘Mal’. 

As Phury placed the clothe in the box, and Zsadist came to me, kneeling, I somehow kept my hands from trembling as I accepted it, instead of spinning him and examining the wound like I wanted. Later, I would pin him to the mattress and examine every line, every etching, to make sure he was alright.

“I take you as my own. From this life to the next,” I whisper back, my heart ‘aching’ with raw affection and love. 

As soon as he was back on his feet I stepped in, pressing my lips to his in a further affirmation of that vow. Vampires believed in the Fade, but reincarnation wasn’t out of the picture. If I didn’t get forever in the afterlife with Zsadist I would find him again, in another life, another time. I would always find him.

Managing a smile and a wink, I carefully set aside the box and unfastened my own robes to reveal my back. Glancing amongst the Brothers, I then took a knee, sensing as Wrath approached again. His voice rang with approval. 

“What is the name of your Hellren?”

I smiled. At the word. At this moment. At what my life had become after so long being alone.

“Zsadist.”

The sharpness of the blade made the first cut almost painless, though with each additional mark, the sting deepened. I didn’t flinch though, didn’t move as one after another the Brothers approached and sliced into my flesh. The muscles that supported my wings shuddered, and I fought the need to summon them, keeping my back smooth and feather-limb free. Though the idea of a Brother accidentally touching my wing and Zsadist ‘accidentally’ flipping a table during our mating earned a small smile. 

When they finished, and the salt water etched my mate’s name forever into my skin, it was Rhage who approached with the box. I flashed him a grin, which he returned, and then I was facing Zsadist, kneeling as he had, and lifting the box to him. 

“Will you take me as your own?”

Zsadist:

Watching Mal get carved up was harder than I thought it was going to be. I mean, I knew my Brother's weren’t hurting him. This was the ceremony, but I couldn’t help the bonded male in me that wanted to tear everyone off of him. 

“Easy now…” Phury said in my ear.

I turned to meet my twin’s gaze with a raised brow. 

“I can smell your bonding scent, it’s telling me to back the fuck off right now.” He chuckled quietly, eyes shining bright as they gaze into mine before focusing on my male. “It’s almost over, enjoy this moment.” He breathed.

Slowly my head moves to gaze back at my angel on the floor. He was really doing this, becoming mine. Fuck. What did I do to deserve him? 

Suddenly I felt an unfamiliar hand at my back, causing me to stiffen. Jerking my head to the side to watch Mal’s Mahmen retreat her hand carefully. 

“I’m sorry to startle you.” She whispers. I could feel Phury’s eyes burning at the back of my skull. 

“No need. I uh...you just caught me off guard.” I grunt.

She smiles softly then murmurs. “It’s okay, big day for you two. I’m so proud and happy to have...another son.” 

I stare, dumbfounded for a moment. Another son? Me? Suddenly I felt my chest tighten, wishing somehow I got to spend more time with my real Mahmen. Clearing my throat after I realized I was taking too long to answer. 

“Of course, Elieanora,” I replied, watching as she smiled at me before we both turned our attention back to her son on the floor. 

Moments later he was up, heading over towards me with a box, just like the one I presented to him moments ago. 

“I will take you as my own, from this life to the next,” I replied calmly as I reached for the box, handing it off to my twin so I could pull my male up and into my arms. When my lips met his, a loud roar from the family filled the foyer. But I didn’t even bother to look up, I just continued to kiss the male that was officially mine. 

Soon as we break the kiss, the chanting starts, followed by a song in the old language. My angelic voice breaks through all the others in the foyer as I join in. My eyes on the angel, like he was the only one in the room, and I was singing for him. 

Mal:

My shoulders ached in a way I savoured, but nothing was better than Zsadist’s lips as he pulled me to him. The kiss seared through me, turning my blood to liquid fire as I clung to the male, /my/ male, and relished in this moment. The cacophony around us was a nice backdrop, but more than anything I wanted to taste him. Hold him. Drown in the bliss that he was mine, and I was his. 

Easing back from the kiss, my heart ached as he lifted his voice with the others, the pure melody bringing tears to the eyes of the females and rendering me utterly speechless as I watched him. He was a gift. 

As the song came to a beautiful end, I didn’t hesitate in claiming that perfect mouth again, as if I could taste the music, the melody on his tongue. There was wolf-whistling from the males and ‘awwwwwws’ from the females, and then the smell of food and delicious things that weren’t Zsadist.  

When I finally stepped back my mahmen approached, placing one hand over my heart, and the other over Z’s. The message was clear, and as she smiled up at me I finally let go of my male to sweep her into my arms. My mahmen, who’d raised me all alone, who’d found us a life and a purpose and done everything in her power to make sure I was safe. And now she blessed me, my union with this male I loved. Took him as her own. 

“Thank you,” I whispered to her, not trusting myself to let go yet, feeling the lump in my throat. “Thank you for being my mahmen.”

Her hands stroked at my back, reassuring as she laughed gently. “I don’t think either of us had a say in it,” she replied softly, “but I wouldn’t change anything. My beautiful boy. My angel.” She leaned back to cradle my face, then pressed a kiss to my brow. 

Around us, the first family and every other occupant of the house had begun to chatter and drift toward the food, celebrating with Zsadist. Elieanora nudged me.

“Did you like it? Was it how you wanted it?”

I blinked then reached for the box amongst my robes, withdrawing it with a relieved smile and a nod.

“It was perfect. Thank you.” Between my mahmen and the doggen, they’d found the right jeweller to make what I’d asked for. Looking to Zsadist, another gentle nudge was all it took for me to cross the distance, holding out the box. When his golden gaze alighted on it, my heart skipped.

“I… I wanted to get you something else. You have my name… but I wanted you to have a piece of me too. With you always.”

Zsadist:

As Mal and his Mahmen had a private moment, I took it upon myself to receive some hugs and handshakes from my Brothers. Even from afar, I saw Hadrian had joined in on this celebration. He stood off to the side with Lassiter as they shared some drinks. Raising my head as I gave him a nod, implying that I was grateful he was here and celebrating with us today. When I received one back, I turned my attention back towards my male. 

When he pulled away from Elieanora, I watched with a curious stare as he handed me a box. What in the world could he have gotten me? Slowly I open the lid. My golden eyes go wide as I see a single feather, his feather, attached to a silver chain that I could wear around my neck. 

Holy shit.

I’m speechless as I stand there gazing at it, my fingers dragging over the coated feather that I almost didn’t notice Phury nudging me. 

“Z...the daggers.” He whispers in my ear. 

“Shit, right.” I grabbed the black velvet bag from my twin and handed it off to my mate. Watching with amusement as he opened the gift I had made for him. 

“You are one of us now.” I say as he pulls the blades out and inspects them. “So you need something epic to carry when you are on rotation.” I grin.

“Yeah, and you better not lose them.” Vishous calls out from across the room.

Snorting at my Brother as I clasp the chain around my neck, dipping my head to watch the black feather rest upon my chest. I wore a part of him around my throat, his name on my back, and together we were one. 

So I reached out to grab his hand and shared one more kiss before we moved to enjoy this night filled with food, laughter, family, and friends. 

#EndSL #FromThisLifeToTheNext

[anagentinwriting]

To Catch a Thief - Part 4

Summary: Being an FBI field agent was your dream job but having been stuck behind a desk for most of your career you’ve almost given up. Fortunately, a series of robberies with minimal evidence forces you to assist a team in the field to help solve the case. But when the only thing left behind is a series of song lyrics, will you be able to find the perp? Or will the number of obstacles and lack of evidence keep you from solving the case?

Pairing: Peter Quill x Reader

Word Count: 2429

Warnings: Swearing

To Catch a Thief Masterlist / Main Masterlist

“The same hologram system used in Vegas was used here, too,” Gamora informed. “The Norway police told us the case the Space Stone necklace was in was supposed to be the most secure in the world, but it's not anymore. The case has bulletproof glass and sensors running every which way. There is also a metal box below it where the necklace is stored at night, so no one ever needs to touch it. SL must be good at picking locks or has a tool that can break into anything.  One thing's for sure, SL must have friends in high places to get him equipment in a foreign country.”

“No kidding.”

“And the museum still has no idea when this happened,” Kraglin added. “They only realized it was missing when the hologram shut off and underneath it was a paper with lyrics on it. We figure the theft happened three days before since it took that long for the hologram from Vegas to trigger off.”

“What were the lyrics this time?” You asked as Kraglin handed you a picture of the paper with the lyrics on it.

It’s magic you know

Never believe, it’s not so

It's magic, you know

            Sorry, SL

“Do you recognize these lyrics at all, music expert?” Gamora asked with a hopeful smirk.

“No, it's a little vague, but I’ll do some digging. Do you have any idea how he did this?”

“Magic, according to him,” Kraglin insinuated, making you and Gamora shake your heads. “It’s crazy how Harry Houdini died from getting punched in the stomach, but I guess, later it was found out he had acute appendicitis. He may have been one of the best escapologists, but no one can escape death.” You narrowed your eyes at him. How did he know the randomest things and share these things at the most inconvenient times?

“Interesting Kraglin, really, but there’s no such thing as magic,” Gamora declared. “We need to try and figure out a plausible way for how he managed to do this."

“Abracadabra,” Kraglin chimed in, twiddling his fingers in the air.

Kraglin and Gamora got to work looking over the evidence the Norway police sent over by email. Kraglin would be flying out later this afternoon to collect anything physical he could find and bring it back to further examine it.

You sat in your chair listening to the song Magic by Pilot after doing a Google search on the lyrics.  From your understanding, it’s a happy cheerful song.  It’s about loving life and not taking every day for granted. It’s short and to the point. SL could've forgiven himself for doing the things he did in his past, and instead of dwelling on them any further he's moving on. He was finally looking to better days ahead of him, and you were happy for him. Both his last songs were uplifting and this one seems like he’s happier.

“Find anything, YN?”

“I did and last night Luis gave me some insights as well…” You filled them in on what you found out from Luis and what you were thinking with the new song lyrics.

Gamora wanted you to search the database for anything related to Space-Legend or Star-Leader while she got Kraglin ready for his trip. But like always you found nothing on the names. Then, you remembered SL exposed a few companies a couple years ago. You ran a search, but without the company names, it would be hard to narrow down the long endless list related to the mistreatment of animals.

SL had to of committed previous crimes before this, but with no leads you needed to move on to something else. With Gamora watching the Vegas footage, you started on the two months worth of camera footage the Norway museum sent over.

“Peter, why is this even a discussion Faithfully by Journey beats their song Separate Ways.  It’s no competition.” After getting locked out of your apartment a couple weeks ago, you and Peter struck up this weird friendship. He has his issues, but he’s a nice guy even though you have petty arguments over music and movies.

“What? Are you crazy?  Separate ways is so much deeper than you are making it out to be,” Peter argued, making his voice rise a bit higher.

“How? Faithfully is how love should be. It proves that even though the distance and the problems are putting a strain on their relationship, he will always fight to make it work because he loves her.”

“I agree, 100 percent. But, hear me out, Separate Ways is more realistic. I mean, a guy falls in love with a girl that thinks she’s unworthy of love, whether it's from a bad past relationship or whatever, but the dude understands this.  He tells her someday she’ll be able to love, and he hopes that one night they touched will get her to come back to him. But, even though he tried his best to show his love is real, he knows she will never feel worthy of it.  All he wants is for her to be happy, even if it's not with him.”

“I'm done having this discussion, but if you ask me it sounds like you have experienced this first hand.”

“Doesn’t matter, I’m right and your wrong.  So, how is your case coming?” Peter ignored your comment by covering it up with a quick question.  He walked to the fridge to grab another beer, but before he closed it he peeked over at you silently asking if you wanted one.  You nodded as he pulled out another one for you.

“I'm afraid that's classified.”

“Still? Wow! It’s almost like the FBI is keeping this under wraps and away from the public, huh?”

You narrowed your eyes grabbing the beer from his hand.  Why did he always insist on asking you about your case? Was he curious or did he want to help?  To keep things safe you decided to stick with a one-word answer.

“Sure! Back to my previous topic, who broke your heart? Was it a high school sweetheart? A friend with benefits ordeal gone array?”

“What makes you think someone broke my heart? My heart is rock solid like my body.” He plopped down in his usual spot on the couch, staring at the coffee table.

“Rocks are breakable with enough force.” You took the seat next to him, setting your beer on the coffee table.

“Smartass,” he sighed, taking a swig of his beer. “If you must know, there was this one girl, Beeret, we were dating all through high school.  She was a super cool and amazing painter.  We both claimed to be in love, but before she left for college, she broke up with me.  She didn't want to try the long distance relationship thing since it never works. She wanted me to forget about her and move on. She told me she’d always love me but she didn’t want to be with me anymore.”

“What? Who wouldn’t want to be with you? Any woman would be lucky to have you,” you blurted out, feeling your face begin to heat up as your palms started to tingle. Your eyes moved to your beer bottle on the table, before returning to Peter.

“You'd be surprised,” he said, keeping his eyes on yours.  

“Hmm, that's why you don't like Journey's Faithfully." He shrugged with one shoulder. "At least this explains why you have lady friends and not girlfriends.” You watched his eyes move from yours to your lips before he leaned back licking his lips.

“Hammered that nail right on the head didn’t you.”

“I’m an FBI agent, it’s my job to notice things.” You shrugged, patting him on the thigh before leaning back into the couch.

A month in and you’re still analyzing security tapes. Two months worth of tape was exhausting to look over. Staring at this screen all hours of the day was starting to strain your eyes, but all you could do was rub them and keep going. You never heard of these necklaces until you started this case, but every time you switched on the footage you noticed they attracted a lot of attention.

You were watching the recording three weeks before the thief happened.  In the corner of the camera, a guy with a notepad walked by looking around each exhibit like he was taking notes. Is he doing recon to see where the cameras and sensors are at?  You couldn't see his face, but notice the red jacket he was wearing.  You speed up the camera keeping a close eye on him, but he doesn’t stay before he wanders off in the other direction. You make a note of the date and time of his appearance and what he was wearing. You skip over to the next day but saw nothing.

A week later, Red Jacket showed up on camera again. This time he was standing close to the blue stone necklace almost like he was examining the cases lock mechanism. Then, you don’t see him again until three days before the hologram turned off.  You go to the front entrance camera of the museum and watch him walk in.  He never gets anywhere near the necklace nor does he leave the museum out the front door. You might finally have something.

“Gamora, I got something.”

“Seriously? What is it?”

“A possible suspect, Red Jacket,” you said, pointing at the screen.

It was Thursday night, and once again it involved hanging out at Peters apartment. You always hung out on Thursdays because he worked at the bar, Trash Panda, on Friday nights and weekends.

His apartment was always a disaster with takeout containers, and clothes laying on the floor. Cd's, DVD's, cassettes, and records laid everywhere else. Peter also had some weird decor, or as he called them his useful relics. There was a broken sword, which he called Dragonfang, a knock-off Jackson Pollock painting, and a basketball size Pac-man head.  It might’ve been dirty but it felt more like a home than your apartment ever did.

“Why do you always insist on watching the old Footloose versus the new one?” You asked, taking a seat on the couch next to Peter.

“The old one has Kevin Bacon. And if you don’t like Bacon something is wrong with you.” You rolled your eyes and Peter’s phone starts ringing. “Pizzas here. I’ll go get it, can you put the movie in?”

“On it.” You put the disk in the player and grabbed the remote off the end table. A picture frame you never noticed before catches your eye.  You pick it up taking your usual spot on the couch. The image was of a much younger Peter laying on the grass listening to his Walkman with a woman you could only suspect to be his mother.

“Got the pizza. You got the beer. Let's watch this flick.” Peter carried in the pizza kicking the door close but stops short seeing you staring at a picture in your hand. “Ahhhh….whatcha got there?”

“Is this your mom?”

“Oh ah, yeah.” He walked over setting the pizza down on the coffee table and taking a seat in his usual spot next to you.

“She’s beautiful. Is she....”

“Dead…...no. She’s very much alive,” he answered, taking a deep breath before continuing. “Um, her name is Meredith. She’s an amazing mother, but she does have an inoperable brain tumor.” You set the picture back down beside you.

“I'm sorry, Peter.” You reached for his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

“It's okay. It's not the first time she fought this. She’ll beat this thing again, I just know it,” he said with a hopeful spark in his eyes.

His mom beat cancer before and it’s back. You couldn’t even imagine how hard it was for him to see his mother going through this the first time; let alone a second time. You would never want to relive any of your bad memories all over again.

“Still, it must be hard to watch her go through all this again," you sympathized, squeezing his hand again before letting go. “I’d hate to see you go through this alone, so I’m here if you need anything, okay?” He nodded with a sly smirk on his face. “I’m serious! If you want a home-cooked meal or need help getting your mind off this or --”

“I get it,” he interrupted you by patting you on the leg. “Thank you. I appreciate it. Really.”

“Is your dad still around at all? It must be tough on him, too?"

“No, he’s not. He’s dead, but he was never really in the picture when I was growing up.  I mean he was, but he wasn’t.  He taught me a lot but it was always me and my mom.” Peter grabbed a beer and rotated the bottle in his hand smearing the condensation across the label.  

“I’m sorry, that’s tough to deal with growing up.” He nodded his head before twisting off the top and taking a sip. “Do you at least get to see your mom often?”

“As often as I’m allowed,”  he murmured, wide-eyed at the floor before flickering them back to you with his eyebrows raised. “Anyways, ready to watch this flick?” You nodded, dropping the subject. He didn’t want to continue talking about this and you understood, but you couldn’t stop thinking about his choice of words.

“How’s work? Find any new clues on your case or whatever?”

“Yeah, I may have found a break in the case actually. Gamora seemed pretty happy about it so did Kraglin and he’s tough to impress.”

“Nice work.” The opening credits start coming across the screen and Peter starts tapping his leg and humming some tunes before he starts singing. “Leaning on my pillow in the morning / Lazy day in bed music in my head / Crazy music playing in the morning light / Oh-ho-ho It’s magic you know / Never believe it's not so.”

“Stop singing and watch the damn movie.” You nudged him in the ribs, forcing him to stop and snicker. “Why are you singing that song anyways?”

“Oh, the pizza guy was singing it. It’s a classic, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, something like that,” you replied, grabbing a slice. It was the same song from the recent heist. It might have nothing to do with the case, but it didn't hurt to look into this pizza place or their employees, even if it led to a dead end.