#caller id location tracker

[spooky-fm]

Phantom Thief

Also known as the reveal fic that doesn't even mention the word 'ghost' until almost 20k words in. It is sufficiently traumatizing for everyone involved.

Ao3. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7. Part 8.

Summary:

Danny Fenton flees his world and finds himself in the role of International Conman Neal Caffrey. He is actually pretty happy with his life, even with the whole 'convicted felon' thing. But of course Fruitloop of Fruitloops, Vlad Masters, has to go and spoil everything by tracking Danny down and demanding a match for the title of the Ghost King, like that is an actual thing that Danny can wager. And of course he manages to force him to out himself to his friends. Who are, coincidentally, FBI agents, including his literal handler.

In short, not a single person is having a good day.

Part 1. Neal Caffrey is missing ... again

Peter sighs in annoyance (and mild concern) when his eyes land on his CI's empty desk with its equally empty chair. Neal has been acting strange for days — coming in late, disappearing from the office for long lunches, and, as always, avoiding any questions about his problems. Peter is fairly certain that it's problems and not criminal plans that are causing Neal's abnormal behavior. Even at his most stressed and cornered, the conman has a certain air of anticipation and mischief that always settles around him when he is planning a heist.

But Neal Caffrey of the last week has tired eyes and a fake smile that he has not worn in the office in at least a year. He is tense and jumpy, flinching at loud sounds. Peter thinks that doors banging and men shouting are the worst offenders and his heart clenches a little at the implications. He has to remind himself that it might just be a coincidence, and that Neal is simply stressed, but he knows his instinct is very rarely wrong. Especially when it comes to Neal. Peter has gone against his gut before, falling back on investigator training and suspicion, and has been proven wrong every time, almost completely damaging his relationship with Neal in the process. It has taken them months to rebuild their trust in each other after the Nazi treasure fallout, but, Peter thinks, they are doing okay again.

He reads the words on the paper in front of him for the fifth time and fails to register their meaning. The mortgage fraud file would not be very interesting on a good day, but his worry for Neal has rendered him incapable of concentrating on the neat rows of numbers of Catherine Woolridge's expenses.

Peter's eyes drift towards the empty desk in the bullpen, then towards the clock on the wall of his office. It's almost half past nine, one hour and thirty minutes after Neal is supposed to arrive at the FBI building. Neal has never been late by more than thirty minutes before. Despite his flighty nature and casual disregard for rules, he is surprisingly punctual about meetings even if he does make sure to be 'fashionably late' every once in a while, claiming he needs to maintain his reputation.

Peter shakes his head to clear it and pulls out his phone. Neal still hasn't answered any of his texts, and the calls have all gone to voicemail. Peter is frowning at the phone in his hand with concern, already planning on driving up to June's to retrieve his wayward CI. Or at least to check on him, make sure he is not passed out in the bathroom or something.

The phone rings loudly with an incoming call, startling Peter so much he almost drops it. It keeps ringing while he checks the caller ID, and his chest tightens in worry when he sees the familiar extension of the marshals' office. He fumbles with the buttons and finally manages to answer the call.

Taking a deep breath he manages to answer with 'Peter Burke' in a voice that is much steadier than his hands or thoughts.

"Agent Burke, Neal Caffrey's tracker just went offline. Are you aware of his current location?"

The line is familiar — he's received dozens of calls like this, with how much Neal gets into trouble and tests his boundaries. For some reason, this time the words cause his heart to skip a beat. His stomach rolls with an uneasy feeling. He forces himself to respond in the negative, thanks the marshal on the other end of the line, and assures them that he will be coming to the last known location to investigate.

Peter isn't sure when exactly he stood up and moved to the door of his office, but as the phone beeps at the end of the call he is already halfway down the stairs and flagging down Jones and Diana on his way to the elevators. They fall into step with him a second later and he spares a moment to be a little proud of his team's cohesion.

His smile disappears when he is reminded why they are on the move. He waits until the elevator doors are closed — with no one else inside, thankfully — and fills them in on the situation.

"Caffrey's tracker went dark three minutes ago," Diana takes in a sharp breath, and Jones straightens, both looking worried and alert. "We are going to June's - that's the last known location."

"You don't think he's run," Diana makes it sound like a statement, but her eyes are uncertain, mirroring the fear tightly coiled in Peter's lungs.

"He's been acting weird," Jones interjects. "Like he's afraid of something." He looks down at the control panel display steadily shuffling through floor numbers and continues, "Blake yelled at the printer the other day and Neal almost jumped out of his shoes."

Peter nods.

"Which is why we are not starting a manhunt until we get some more intel. Hopefully, June and her staff will be able to tell us something or there will be clues in his rooms."

The elevator doors slide open with a ding!, and Peter marvels absentmindedly at his first uninterrupted descent from the twenty-first floor in the busy office building.

They make their way to their destination in silence, taking Peter's car. On the steps of June's mansion, Peter knocks and turns to look at his teammates.

"I have a bad feeling about this. Be careful."

The two nod seriously.

Seconds later they are let into the building by Maria, June's new maid, who seems a bit uneasy at the sight of them. Peter knows she comes from a complicated background and doesn't begrudge her apprehension at dealing with federal agents. He lets Diana stay back and question her about the morning and takes Jones upstairs to look through Neal's apartment.

They find it in light disarray, though obviously not from any break-in or even from a frantic search for something. It seems that Neal hasn't dusted in a while, and there are unwashed dishes in the sink and on the counters. The kitchen table holds scattered papers — sketches, paperwork, copies of files from their recent cases — along with empty wine bottles and another dirty plate that seems to be from the day's breakfast.

The rest of the apartment is similar. There are some clothes scattered on the chairs, books and random knick-knacks thrown haphazardly on the surfaces of furniture. The bed is unmade, the bathroom sink has hair sticking to its sides. All-in-all, a completely normal look for any other person's apartment, but with Neal Caffrey's compulsive need for tidiness and order in his living space it paints an alarming picture in Peter's mind.

Jones makes a sound of surprise in the kitchen, and Peter hurries back to join him. He has been taking a closer look at the papers on the dining table and is now staring at the sketches and quick watercolors that Peter has noted but didn't pay too much attention to. They look fresh, one of them even has a coffee stain that is maybe a day old at most, which is not a very solid piece of evidence when it concerns Neal Caffrey, Forger Extraordinaire, but Peter cannot imagine why he would need to fake something being newer instead of older, especially if it's just a pile of rough (for Neal) sketches.

Jones hums and throws him a quick glance. "I guess we were right about him worrying about something. At least he has an outlet that's better than punching things, unlike some people I know."

Peter spares a thought to agent Ruiz and his lips quirk up a bit in agreement. He focuses on the papers again, noting the deep pencil strokes, the paper torn in some places from the force of a line; the rough edges of the figures; the red, black, and toxic green colors dominating the pieces; the general mood of anger and fear that seems to radiate from them.

"Damn," he says quietly. Jones nods in agreement.

They put the papers down and move downstairs, where Diana is waiting for them at the door. After a hasty goodbye to Maria, the three of them take a moment to speak outside the car doors.

Peter goes first. "His apartment is messier than usual, aligning with what we've noticed about his recent mental state. No signs of forced entry, his wallet and hat are missing, presumably he took them with him and left of his own accord."

Jones scowls at that.

"I don't like how this looks, but my gut is telling me Caffrey didn't run, despite the evidence indicating the contrary. I don't want to sound like a couch psychologist, but he's been scared of something for days now, and those paintings and the state of his place just confirm that. He knows we have his back now, so he wouldn't just run off on his own without at least trying to reach out or leave a message."

Peter nods thoughtfully. "I agree, it doesn't seem like him, ironically. We haven't had any fights recently as well, or any disagreements really. There is no reason for him to not trust us. Something must have been seriously wrong for him to keep it to himself and disappear like that."

Diana, who looked curious at the mention of paintings, sobers up.

"I might have some answers to that from my talk with Maria," she speaks up. "According to her, an unknown man has been visiting Neal for about a week. White male, age anywhere between early 40s and late 60s, wearing expensive suits and a green cap with a big 'G' in a thin yellow circle."

Green Bay Packers, Peter's mind supplies. Wisconsin.

"Completely white hair and beard, but Maria says his skin was way too smooth for him to be any older than 45 at most. Possible medical condition or genetic predisposition to early gray hair. She says that he has been visiting at random hours and that Neal did not seem especially happy to see him."

She pauses to take a breath and then keeps going.

"Maria mentioned that he seemed to be very confident and charming, but she got an uncomfortable feeling from him. No specific reason, but she was careful to not be left alone with him."

Peter raises his eyebrows. That's not the kind of person Neal voluntarily associates with. If he truly was unhappy to see him, but couldn't find a way to get rid of him, this person could have had something on Neal. Or he could have been threatening someone the conman cares about. Neal normally isn't someone easily scared or intimidated into compliance. Even Keller and Adler didn't make him mope around for days on end.

"We should be careful if we have to engage with him. Did you get anything about this morning from her?" Peter asks with little hope.

"She didn't see Neal leave," Diana answers, "but she thinks she may have heard raised voices a little before seven. Then some weird noises like a big piece of cloth tearing and then a yell and a loud thud. But when she came up to check up on Neal, it was silent and there was no one in his rooms. She swears she checked them thoroughly."

Peter frowns in confusion. He is sure he is missing something, he just has to concentrate, and he'll figure it out...

"Did you manage to get the name of the visitor?" Jones asks while Peter is racking his brain for ideas.

"Vlad Masters, though it could be an alias. Apparently, he referred to Neal as 'Daniel' and 'Little Badger'," she wrinkles her nose at the nickname and Peter mentally agrees. He would normally tease Neal for such a cute moniker, but in the context it sounds more than a little creepy.

He takes a moment to collect his thoughts and figure out their next move. A tentative plan is already forming in his head.

"Diana, good job. I have a feeling that man is the key to Neal's disappearance. Let's figure out who he is. Jones, call the office and have Agent Blake look into the name Vlad Masters with that description, especially in Wisconsin and in connection to a younger male with the name Danny."

Diana and Jones look a bit confused at the last part of his orders, but Jones nods obediently and fishes out his phone. 

"Diana," Peter continues, "go upstairs and look through the apartment. Look for anything Jones and I missed, especially anything that might have a connection to this Vlad Masters. I will talk to Maria about getting us onto the roof, in case they hid up there from her. Jones, once you are done with Blake, look around Neal's balcony. Check the walls for any signs of descent and the ground around it for disturbances."

"Got it, boss."

"Understood."

They will find Neal. They have to.

[john9028]

Smartwatch Market trends, opportunites, application and demand analysis 2032

Market Overview

Global Smartwatch Market valued at US USD 28,660 million in 2022, is anticipated to reach a value of US USD 136,130 million in 2033, growing at a CAGR of 21.5%.

A smartwatch is a wrist-worn digital device that provides atomic clock accuracy. It is linked to a smartphone and receives notifications for e-mails, texts, and incoming phone calls. It includes a number of apps that provide added features, like presenting weather updates, maps, and stock values. It is also capable of making phone calls and sending & receiving text messages. Its popularity is growing around the world because it includes fitness trackers and monitoring devices to help consumers track their health. Various features include notifications, alerts, apps, answer messages by voice, media management, fitness tracking, and a very good battery life. The market size revenue considered in the report is revenue earned by companies by selling smartwatch. From application perspective, the report analyses the market according to personal assistance, wellness, healthcare, sports, and others. Smartwatches are designed to, either on their own or when paired with a smart phone, provide features like connecting to the internet, running mobile apps, making calls, messaging via text or video, checking caller ID, accessing stock & weather updates, providing fitness monitoring capabilities, offering GPS coordinates & location directions, and more.

Request Sample Reports: https://wemarketresearch.com/sample-request/smartwatch-market/152

Rise in demand for wireless sports and fitness devices, increase in health awareness among end users, and surge in technological advancements by market players are anticipated to boost the growth of smart watch market. Additionally, rising emphasis on connected devices and smart systems among several industries, and growing demand for connected ecosystem are projected to offer significant opportunities for smart watch market globally. The increase in data dependency among end users and huge investments in building smart cities by the government of various countries are the key success areas that bolster the demand for smart wearable devices.

Read More: https://wemarketresearch.com/reports/smartwatch-market/152

[milespacheco2299-blog]

track someone by cell phone number without them knowing, Cheltenham, UK

https://geolocalisertelephones.com

Track your Switched Off Mobile Phone Location | Find your Lost, Stolen Mobile Phone Location

In this video we have show :

# Method of searching your mobile's last location even if your mobile phone is switched off. # Methods of finding your lost or stolen mobile phone, Android phone, smartphone and some method of tracking your mobile phone.

[loverholland]

a month to disappear.

⋆｡˚┊synopsis ; after graduating from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, you and Peter decided to move away. The world seemed to stop, however, when Peter goes missing. ↳ established relationship! peter parker x established relationship! reader & hogwarts!au. angst. ⋆｡˚┊word count ; less than 1k ⋆｡˚┊authors note ; this is long awaited (but not really). sorry for disappearing, school is wild rn but I just dropped to 12 credits so im hoping to be a bit more active. but enjoy this for now :-)

Life after Hogwarts was something that many people didn’t talk about. You didn’t talk to many of your classmates after you had left, truly, you didn’t even want to. There wasn’t any use in it and as much as you loved the memories you’ve made, they weren’t something you wanted to visit immediately. That’s when you and your boyfriend, Peter Parker, moved to Ireland. You began working for the Ministry of Magic and Peter began doing virtual work for Tony Stark, doing missions within Ireland and doing paperwork. It wasn’t his favorite job, doing the paperwork side of everything, but he wanted to protect his home. The little home that you and Peter picked out all those years ago.

It was a small, quiet and quaint town. Children ran up and down the road, screaming and giggling with one another. The people went on with their lives, sometimes making too much noise for the town. It was safe. At least, that’s what you thought.

Peter disappeared on a quiet, hot afternoon. This wasn’t uncommon where he wouldn’t check his phone. Sometimes missions took too long, but he hadn’t called, texted or facetimed you in hours. Days. Months. He didn’t tell you where he’d be going, he said it was too dangerous and that he would be okay. He promised as he pressed a kiss to your lips before walking out of the house with an old gym bag over his shoulder. He had a wide grin on his face when he called you from the car. And then he was just… gone.

It was day 31 of Peter’s disappearance. You weren’t dealing with it well. You called in from work and laid on the couch for hours. You were wrapped in Peter’s favorite blanket, his hoodie and a pair of underwear. You stared blankly at the television screen as it played some show from Hulu. The world kept moving while you were stuck. It wasn’t uncommon for you to call Tony or vice versa. He seemed to be doing well with everything. He sometimes showed emotions during the call and other times it would be Morgan crying at the context.

Your phone began vibrating violently next to your head. You moved slowly and grabbed the device. You saw the caller ID and sighed answering Tony’s phone call.

“Hey, sunshine.” Tony greeted and you murmured a soft response, laying back in your position. “Doing any better?”

“No.”

Tony hummed. “Well, I have someone on top of looking for his location at all times. They said there hasn’t been any activity, still.” Tony must’ve turned his back to the phone because the words got muffled before becoming clear again. “Do you know if he’s turned off his tracker?”

“You ask this every time.” You murmur, pushing half of your face into the pillows to avoid the tears spilling from your eyes. “No. He had no reason to. I don’t even think he knew how to with this suit.”

Tony laughed at the memory. “He learned, didn’t he?” There was a moment of silence. You sniffled and pressed your face fully into the pillow, hugging it tightly. “Have there been any activity on his phone?”

A beat of silence roamed the room. You didn’t know. “I don’t know.”

“Okay.” Tony hummed again, typing quickly. “Would he have a reason not to be tracked?”

No. There wasn’t a reason and the only reason you could come up with was that he didn’t want to be found. He wanted to drop his life and go somewhere far away from you and his old past. He didn’t want to remember anything that he had gone through, he didn’t want to be with you… He didn’t want to continue. It broke your heart to think about, but maybe you did something wrong. You wished more than anything that you could fix it and bring him back home.

You licked your lips and sighed. “I don’t know… Maybe he doesn’t want to be found.”

“Y/N…” Tony sadly said. “Don’t say that. He loved you to bits, alright? He wouldn’t have just up and left you to fend for yourself. He’s better than that.”

“Kind words make the heart grow fonder.” You chewed on your bottom lip and sat up, pushing your hands into the hoodie. It was a way to hug yourself. It was the only hug you had gotten in the month since he left. The last time you heard his voice was a month ago. The last time you touched was a month ago. The last time for so many things was… a month ago. “Fucking Christ, I’m wearing one of Peter’s hoodies.”

“Does it still smell like him?”

You stopped for a moment, holding your breath. You pulled one hand from the pocket and lifted the neck to your nose. You had a moment of yes, it does smell like him. I know what he smells like but as quickly as the words started to form, they dissipated. It didn’t smell like him. Nothing did and the final piece she had from him, didn’t even smell… right? Tears flooded your eyes and you dropped the hoodie from your nose. Your heart broke all over again, confused and hurt that this happened. You breathed in, trying to keep the feelings at bay but when Tony called your name, a hard and loud sob left your lips.

“It doesn’t.” You cried, wrapping your arms around yourself in a way to comfort you. “It doesn’t. It doesn’t. It doesn’t.”

[bluegarners]

“I have your loved one” with Dick and Jason?

heyyy, it's finally here haha! i'm slowly getting to each request lol

here it is on ao3

I Have Your Loved One

It’s Thursday.

Time: 23:47, or 11:47 p.m.

Bludhaven has hit a rough patch in its weather, a vicious storm battering against thin windows and overflowing gutters and drains. It’s one of those storms that brings in the water but no lightning, dark clouds blanketing the entire sky, remorseless and relentless in its pursuit of smothering any light from escaping. The clouds don’t muffle anything though, perhaps amplifying instead the downpour that floods through Bludhaven’s streets and alleyways. Its citizens like to think this is a New Jersey hurricane, freshly mutated and traveled from the east coast into their humble, mildew covered city.

Dick likes the rain. Likes the way it pounds against his apartment, screaming to be let in but just barely warded off by seven inches of concrete and steel. The blinds are closed against the windows, and he has towels pushed up against the sills just in case the sealing lets up. Even if they were open, Dick is sure all he would see is another wall of gray and black, dozens of delicate raindrops splattered against his windows.

Because of the storm currently wreaking havoc in his city, Dick has elected to stay indoors for the time being. Eventually, the rain will let up, its pattern being close to about 05:00, and then he’ll suit up and do a quick patrol before work. For now, he’s content with sitting on his couch and listening to the water smack against the old building and run rivers down the sides. He’d like to sleep through it, a free white noise service at the ready, but his mind simply refuses to allow him to rest just yet. In a few hours, he’s sure he’ll come to hate himself for not taking NyQuil or some other drug to help him fall asleep, but for now… Well, it’s nice. The rain is nice. It’s also very loud.

He misses the first call.

His phone is face down on the kitchen table, about eight feet away from where he lays on the couch, mindlessly staring up at the ceiling. It vibrates, buzzing for thirty seconds, before falling silent.

He misses the second call too.

Thunder rumbles through the black sky, its force shaking the windows and only encouraging the downpour. His phone buzzes again during it, quieting after another thirty seconds.

Dick hears the third call. Hears the tail-end of the buzzing, getting up from his position on the couch and padding over to pick up his phone only to miss the last few seconds. He unlocks his phone, checking the number, and feels something cold settle into his gut when he sees no caller ID. It’s the same person though, all three times, but no voicemail.

He’s about to call the number back, just in case it’s someone he knows and they’re ringing from a payphone or something else, when the no caller ID flashes across his screen for the fourth time.

Dick answers on the second ring. “Hello?”

“Is this Richard Grayson?”

“Yes, that’s me. Who is this?”

The voice is feminine, a slight, western accent, longer o’s and a faint drawl. Somewhere from Arizona most likely. Lower register too. Older woman, mid-to-late fifties. Smoker.

“That’s good. I was starting to think I had the wrong number, Richard.”

“Yeah, sorry, I just didn’t have my phone on me. You didn’t say earlier, but who is this?”

“That doesn’t matter too much right now. What does matter, though, is this.”

She pauses. There’s shuffling he can hear on the other side. A faint, second voice in the background. No, three voices. At least two others in the room with the woman. He can hear the sounds of an air condition unit rattling.

“I think you might’ve cut off there. What were—”

“I have your loved one, Richard.”

Lightning cracks through Bludhaven.

His stomach falls onto the floor, pooling around his ankles. The storm outside grinds to a halt, the quiet louder than any thunder it’s ever managed to produce, and there’s a high pitched ringing reverberating inside his skull. Dick thinks he might be sick.

“What?” he chokes, the air in the room suffocating and weighing down his lungs. “What did you say?”

“I have your loved one,” the woman repeats, calm and slow. “Your brother, actually. Then again, he tells me you aren’t related by name nor blood, so we’ll settle for a loved one.”

“What do you want?” Dick demands, already scrambling to get to his computer, find where they’ve taken Jason. Find his brother.

“He did say you weren’t one for small talk,” the woman carries on, unhurried and unconcerned. “Your brother isn’t either, hardly said a word all this time.”

“Can I speak to him?”

There’s a small huff on the other end of the call, exhalation and a sigh leaving the woman’s mouth. A cigarette. She’s smoking during this conversation, blowing the smoke into the receiver.

“I don’t know,” she finally answers. There. Dick has his general location. Still in Gotham. He needs the tracker to be more precise though. It’s taking time though. Too much. “Your brother here was pretty convinced you wouldn’t answer after his daddy didn’t pick up. Cried pretty hard about it too.”

“What are you talking about?” Dick grounds out, fearing his phone will crack with how tightly he’s gripping it.

“Well, you weren’t our first choice to call, Richard. I’m sure you understand.”

Dick says nothing, focused on the computer screen in front of him. He should contact Barbara. This would be faster with her. Faster to find Jason.

“We called about seven times,” the woman continues, blowing another puff of smoke out into the phone. “Isn’t that right, boy? We called and called and called. His daddy didn’t pick up once, went straight to voicemail each time. A shame, really.”

There’s a sniffle on the other side of the call and Dick’s heart seizes when he realizes it’s probably Jason.

Batman was currently off-world, all communication with him being strictly between Justice League lines. Bruce Wayne was somewhere in the Bahamas, partying with Italian models and Spanish actresses.

Of course he wouldn’t pick up.

“Can I please talk to him?” Dick asks for the second time, fisting a hand into the couch cushions. “Please, I just want to make sure he’s okay.”

More smoke. “I’ll ask him.”

There’s a muffled thud, the phone most likely having been put down, and quiet voices filter through the line. He can’t hear much of what they’re saying, short bursts of comprehensible syllables before fading back to unintelligible noises. His computer dings with a response from Barbara. She’s going to use one of the J.L satellites to better pin-point Jason’s location. She’s also in communication with the police, reporting a child-abduction.

Keep them talking, she writes. Everything is going to be okay, Dick.

It feels like his heart is beating in his throat and his tongue has swollen to the size of a bowling ball. The storm outside is unrelenting. Lightning hasn’t struck again.

There’s more movement on the other side, clattering and scattered noises. The phone’s been picked up.

“Alright,” the woman says, raspy and uncaring. “The boy says he wants to talk to you, Richard.”

Dick holds his breath, waiting. There’s more noises, a transfer he thinks, and another sniffle interrupts it.

“Hello?” a shaky voice asks into the receiver. Dick feels like crying.

“Jason,” he breathes. “We’re going to get you out of there, alright? You’re going to be okay.”

“I’m sorry,” his brother rattles, a sob latching onto the end. “I’m so sorry, Dick. I-I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s okay,” Dick shushes, feeling himself get choked up at the fear in the younger boy’s voice. “I know you didn’t, bud. Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”

“No, not really. I didn’t think you were gonna pick up,” he admits, voice cracking. “B-Bruce didn’t. He didn’t answer, Dick, and I-I thought you weren’t gonna either. I-I thought—”

“I’ll always answer, Jason, I promise. I’m coming for you, okay? I’m going to come get you and we’ll both go home together. Does that sound good, Jay? You’re going to be fine.”

“Okay,” the thirteen year old relents. “You promise though, right? You’re not gonna leave me here?”

“No, Jay, of course not. I’m not going to leave you there, I’m coming to get you. Right now. I promise, okay? Jason, I would never abandon you. You’re my kid-brother and I love you. I’m not going to-”

“As touching as this is,” the woman interrupts, “I think that’s enough.”

“Put Jason back on the phone,” Dick snarls. “I swear, if you lay a hand on him, if you even touch him, I will end you.”

“Sure, honey,” the woman drawls, puffing into the receiver. “Here’s what’s going to happen, so I want you to listen to me.”

His computer dings. It’s Barbara. She’s got the location. It’s close. Not even twenty minutes away. Border between Bludhaven and Gotham. Motel next to the gas station connecting the freeways. Room 13.

He’s out the door and revving up his motorcycle before the woman has even taken a second drag from her cigarette. The rain is beating against him, gloomy street lights flickering through the shrouded dark of the storm. Thank god for Bludhaven sewers, only slightly better than Gotham’s. The water level is only a few millimetres high.

“Now, I don’t want to keep this kid anymore than you want him to stay here with me,” the woman drones. The streets are empty. Dick blows through every red light he comes across. The tires are new, the grip is fine. “So, I think we can make this simple.”

“What do you want?” Dick growls, transferring the call into his helmet. He prays she can’t hear the rain battering against it. “Just tell me what you want already and I’ll give it to you.”

“Don’t rush me,” the woman snaps, and it is then that Dick realizes that this is all probably by chance. This isn’t some criminal mastermind who plotted to find and kidnap the son of a billionaire. This isn’t a case of a rogue villain piecing together vague details and figuring out Batman and company’s identities. It’s simply someone desperate. Someone who saw the opening and took it. The poor planning is evident, practically spelled out in bold print that these people have no real idea what they’re doing.

“Sorry,” Dick bites out, veering through a short-cut that says, in neon orange, Danger. Construction Zone. “Please continue.”

The woman on the line is vindictive though, choosing to remain quiet as the sound of a lighter clicking open tinnies through the call. She takes her time lighting a new cigarette, taking a long, slow drag and holding it in for a few seconds. Dick jerks his bike to the right, narrowly avoiding a large pothole. A passing car blares its horn at him. Finally, the woman exhales. He can hear Jason cough in the background.

“What I want,” she starts, a new color of intrigue hitting the back of her throat. He’s barely ten minutes away now. Could probably half it if he took more backstreets and increased his speed. “Is for my son to be released from prison.”

“Who is your son?” Dick asks, cursing silently as his back tire skids, hydro-planing for a moment. Thunder crashes above him and the rain continues to pelt at his body. It feels like getting hit with a paint-ball gun.

“Landon Jennings. I want you to get him released. I know you have the access to lawyers, probably have debts owed to you from people in high places. I want him released tonight.”

Time: 00:14.

01:14 a.m standard time.

“I can do that,” Dick says, heart beating faster as he sees the sign for the motel, dim in the gray, “but I’ll need a few hours. I need to contact my lawyers. Where is your son stationed?”

An icon appears in the front of his digitized visor. It’s Barbara. She sees him closing in. Police are on route. Seven minutes out. He has the option to wait on them and keep the kidnappers on the line.

“Same place they all go,” the woman barks. “Use that head of yours and figure it out. I want my son out by tonight, or you’re not going to see your brother again. And,” she rushes, “I don’t want the police involved. If you call them, I’ll know, you understand? I don’t want to hurt the kid, but I’m not scared to. My husband is here with me too, so if you try and—”

Okay, so waiting isn’t an option. He’s going in.

“No police,” Dick interrupts. “I understand. Please, don’t hurt him.”

“If you just do what you’re told, then I won’t have to.”

“Thank you,” Dick whispers, gently getting off of his bike and leaving it on the side of the road. He can’t chance them seeing him pulling into the motel lot. “You said your son’s name was Landon? If you don’t mind me asking, what is he charged with?”

“Why do you need to know?”

Dick jogs towards the motel, careful to stay out of direct light. The general office looks closed. Most of the windows facing the lot are shielded by salmon colored curtains. There’s only one floor, thankfully. Dick sees door 13. He’s shaking. His fingers are numb.

“My lawyers said they need to know in order to file for a judge to repeal his sentence.”

“Is that so?” the woman asks, suspicion tailing her voice. She takes a drag from her cigarette, contemplating. Dick’s clothes are soaking wet and he cringes every time his shoes squelch against the concrete. He decides crawling is best, ducking under windows and avoiding peepholes. “Fine then. Landon got falsely accused of statutory rape and breaking and entering. Is that what your damn lawyers are looking for?”

“Yes,” Dick breathes. He’s at door 10. He can see a faint glow coming from behind the curtains of room 13. He’s so close. “Thank you.”

He taps on the side of his helmet, sending a series of numbers that he’s sure Barbara will understand.

23-26-8-37

E-N-T-R

He can’t wait any longer.

While crawling, Dick made sure to get a good look at the motel’s doors and hinges. They’re standard, and though both Gotham and Bludhaven tend to have better locks than most other cities, Dick recognizes the model of the door and the wood it’s made out of. They’re thin enough for him to ram through. The hinges on the sides are rusted over as well, and Dick thinks they might just be weak enough to break. The windows however. The windows are his best bet. He doubts this kind of motel invests in bullet proof glass, and on some of the sills, he can see water damage. They leak. Poorly made. Meaning, if he ran at them, he could break through pretty easily.

But, if that doesn’t work. Or if he’s not fast enough to get on his feet once in. Or if the window is directly in front of Jason and the glass breaks all over him. Or if—

Stop. He can’t think about the what-ifs right now. Dick knows he can do this. Knows how to do this. There isn’t any more time to wait. He promised he would get Jason out of there, and goddamnit, he’s going to keep his promise.

“You’re being really quiet,” the woman mutters. “What’s going—”

Dick takes a deep breath and tenses. The light behind the curtain flickers. He needs to move. Now. Now.

Lightning splits across the sky and Dick can’t tell if it’s the glass shattering or the thunder that makes the other-worldly crack but it doesn’t matter because Dick lands feet first and is tucking and rolling before the occupants have a chance to react.

“Oh my god!” someone screams, but Dick isn’t paying attention to them because his gaze zeroes in on his brother, tiny, thirteen year old Jason, who’s tied up on one of the beds and staring right at him.

He can’t linger long though because he hears the words, “Get the gun!”, and he’s up on his feet again, rushing the closest person. It turns out to be the husband, a balding man with a patchy neck-beard, and Dick bunches up his fist and swings, socking the man in the stomach. He doubles over, wheezing, and Dick can see the small pistol in the man’s right hand, and Dick strikes down on his shoulder, kneeing him simultaneously. The pistol drops and so does the man, groaning, and Dick turns to the woman, who is staring at him like an animal cornered.

“Don’t come any closer!” she yells, pocket knife trembling in her grip as she shoves it in Jason’s face. “I’ll stab him, I will!”

Dick holds up his hands, sidestepping the groaning man. “Put the knife down.”

“No!” the woman argues, a strand of black hair falling into her mouth. “Now I told you- stay there! Don’t fucking move or I’ll kill this kid, you hear! I’ll fucking slice his throat open!”

With how scared the woman is, and how precarious she holds the pocket knife, which Dick can see is dull even from where he’s standing, he knows it’s not an idle threat. Scared people will do anything to get out of the situation they’re in. Scared people are unpredictable and dangerous.

But so is Dick.

So is Jason.

“I’m not going to move,” Dick reassures, eyes flickering towards his brother, “so, please, drop the knife. We can talk this out.”

“Talk?” the woman shrills, jerking the knife closer to Jason’s jawline. “You just killed my husband!”

“I didn’t kill him,” Dick corrects. “He’s just unconscious. Come on now. It’s just you and me. Let’s talk this over. I can still get Landon out if you give me back my brother. It’s as easy as that, alright? Just put down the knife, and we’ll talk. Does that sound okay?”

The woman looks like she’s considering it, the hand holding the knife still trembling, when the first sirens enter the lot. Red and blue light flash through the broken window as rain seeps into the curtains.

“You rat!” she screams, furious and terrified and desperate all at once. “You fucking called the cops! You broke—”

She doesn’t get a chance to finish before Jason snaps his head back, headbutting the woman directly in the nose. He falls to the side, getting out of range of the knife, and Dick takes his cue, leaping forwards and gripping the woman’s wrist and squeezing, weapon falling from her grasp. There’s blood spurting from her nose and Dick throws her to the floor, getting her on her stomach and hands behind her back. He sits on top of her, his weight overpowering any strength she has left, and in the next few seconds, police are banging on the door.

“This is the GCPD! Open up and put your weapons down!”

“You can come in!” Dick shouts, holding the squirming woman in place. “We’re unarmed!”

Things happen quickly after the door bangs open, several officers pouring in like the Bludhaven storm. As soon as an officer handcuffs the woman he’s on top of, Dick is rushing to Jason’s side, another officer cutting away his bindings. His younger brother turns to him, about to say something, but Dick cuts him off with a crushing hug, cradling the back of Jason’s head to rest against his shoulder.

“I’m so sorry,” Dick whispers, gathering his brother more fully into his arms. “I should’ve been there sooner. God, Jason, I’m so sorry.”

“I-I thought you weren’t going to come for me,” Jason confesses, hiccuping. “When Bruce didn’t pick up, I thought it was because he didn’t want me anymore. I-I told her that, I told her Bruce wasn’t coming but she wouldn’t listen and-and I��”

Dick wraps his arms more securely around the sobbing preteen in response, gently rocking back and forth as the mattress springs squealed under the pressure.

“I know I haven’t always been around,” he says, uncaring about the snot dribbling into his shirt, “and I’m sorry you thought you couldn’t rely on me to come and get you. You’re my brother, though, and I will always come running when you call. No matter what. I promise, Jay. Anywhere, anytime, I promise I’ll be there. Okay?”

“Okay,” Jason wheezes, the adrenaline from before slowly releasing its hold. “I trust you.”

Dick presses his face into his brother’s hair, relief washing over him as his heart slows. He’s never had a sibling before. Things were still tense with Bruce, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be a big brother. There isn’t a thing in the world he wouldn’t do for this kid in his arms right now.

“What’re brothers for, right?” he mumbles.

The rain doesn’t stop and pours and pours and pours. Dick just holds Jason tighter.

The real storm was over.

Five months later

It’s Thursday.

Time: 11:47 a.m.

The stone is nice. White marble. Shiny. Expensive.

There are fresh flowers. Roses and yellow daisies. The dirt is still new too. Evidence of freshly upturned earth. Dick reaches down and pulls out a weed that’s sprung up at the corner of the stone. Tosses it away.

He doesn’t have flowers. He has a newspaper in his left hand. Reads: Mourning billionaire sets off on trip to Europe.

Jason died a month before he got back from across the universe.

Anywhere, he had said. Anytime. I promise I’ll be there.

He crumples the newspaper into a tight ball and shoves it into his pocket. Stares at the stone. The sun is out. There are no clouds in the sky. It’s nice.

It’s a nice day.

“Fuck,” Dick mutters, a familiar burn in the back of his eyes. “Fuck.”

Anywhere, anytime.

Dick Grayson is an only child once again.

[theundercovermarvelfan]

Whumptober 2020 - Day 26

Whumtober Challenge @whumptober2020

Day 26 If You Thought The Head Trauma Was Bad… Migraine | Concussion | Blindness

Natasha reached blindly for the cell phone buzzing insistently on her bedside table. Muscle memory had her sliding her thumb across the screen in order to answer the call, even before she had fully come back to consciousness, rolling over onto her back as she brought the phone to her ear.

“This better be damn important,” Natasha murmured into the phone, her words slurring with exhaustion. She had just come off a particularly difficult mission and she couldn’t have been asleep for more than a few hours. 

“Can you come get me?”

For a long moment, Natasha couldn’t get her only semi-awake brain to really comprehend what the words meant. She pulled the phone away from her eye and squinted into the annoyingly bright screen, blinking heavily until the caller ID came into focus. 

“Clint?” she said as she put the phone back to her ear. 

“Yeah.” There was something strange in his voice that Natasha couldn’t quite place. “Can you? Come get me?”

“Where are you?” Natasha asked, confused as she pushed herself up with one arm and glanced over at the digital clock on the bedside table. 2:46 am. 

“Um. Out by… East Orange? I think?”

“East Orange?” Natasha said, suddenly feeling more awake. “In New Jersey?”

“Uh, yeah. I think.”

“Okay, what the fuck are you doing in New Jersey?” Natasha demanded as she pushed herself out of bed. 

“I couldn’t… uh… you know…” There was a long pause and Natasha opened her mouth to ask if he was still there when he went on, “...sleep.”

“Are you okay?” Natasha asked, her tone softening significantly. 

“Yeah. Can you come?”

“Of course I’m coming,” Natasha assured him. “Turn on the tracking on your phone and I’ll be there in about twenty minutes.” 

“Okay. Thanks, Nat.”

“Hang tight. I’ll see you soon.” 

Natasha pulled on the first clothes she could find, grabbed her keys and hurried out of her apartment in Avengers Tower. She hit the button for the elevator and waited impatiently for it to arrive on her floor. When the doors opened she went to stride in… only to stumble when she found that the elevator wasn’t empty like she assumed it would be at almost three in the morning. 

“Natasha?”

“Steve?” 

“What are you doing up?” they both said in unison. 

“The serum doesn’t need eight hours of sleep,” Steve said. “I usually get up in the middle of the night for a work out. What about you?”

“I just got a call from Clint who needs me to pick him up at,” she looked down at her phone, “a Shell station in East Orange, New Jersey.”

As Steve stared blankly at her, she stepped fully into the elevator and hit the button for the parking garage. The elevator had already descended several floors before Steve finally found his voice. 

“What the heck is Clint doing in Jersey?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Natasha sighed as she tapped her foot impatiently as she watched the floors countdown agonizingly slowly. The elevator stopped at the floor with the gym and Natasha sent Steve a questioning look when he didn’t immediately disembark. “Aren’t you going to the gym?”

“You want some company on the drive to Jersey?” Steve offered. 

Natasha gave him an appreciative smile. “Yeah, that’d be good, I’m still pretty tired.”

Steve nodded as he reached out and hit the “close” button. 

Just a few minutes later they were pulling out of the parking garage, Steve in the driver’s seat and Natasha in the passenger's seat, and heading toward New Jersey. 

“Does he do this a lot?” Steve asked after they had been driving a good ten minutes. 

“Huh?” Natasha hummed distractedly as she stared down at her phone, checking for the ump-teenth time that the little dot tracking his phone hadn’t moved. 

“Does Clint do this a lot?” Steve repeated, then went on to clarify. “Disappear in the middle of the night?”

Natasha sighed as she dropped her phone back into her lap. “It happens from time to time. He’s had chronic night terrors ever since he was a kid and not that he’d ever admit it, but I think he rarely sleeps through the night. It gets worse after difficult missions. And when he’s up in the middle of the night he usually can’t sit still. So he’ll go to the range, go to the gym, or sometimes he’ll take his motorcycle out for a ride.”

“Has he ever called you to come get him like this?” Steve asked. 

“Once before,” Natasha said flatly. “When he got in an accident and crashed his bike.”

Steve looked over at Natasha in surprise. “Do you think that’s what happened? Do you think he’s hurt?”

“He sounded… strange on the phone,” Natasha admitted. “He sounded kind of… unfocused and his words were slurring…”

“Maybe he’s had a few drinks?”

Natasha immediately shook her head. “Clint doesn’t drink. Never has. Something about having a violently abusive, alcoholic father has always put him off the idea of drinking.”

“Oh,” Steve said. “Sorry, I didn’t know that.” 

“He doesn’t like to talk about it,” Natasha acknowledged. 

“I don’t blame him.”

It took them just over twenty minutes to close the gap between their dots on the GPS tracker on Natasha’s phone. 

“It should be up here on the right,” Natasha said as she studied her phone. 

“Yeah… I think I have an inkling of where he is,” Steve said uneasily. 

Natasha looked up and her stomach dropped. She spotted the flashing blue and red lights coming from multiple vehicles before she spotted the gas station where Clint was supposed to be. 

“Shit,” Natasha breathed. 

There wasn’t much extra room around the gas station, so Steve quickly pulled into the adjacent parking lot of the Taco Bell next door. Natasha was out of the car before he came to a complete stop, hurrying over to the gas station and squinting through the bright, flashing lights that disoriented her for a moment. 

Finally, she spotted Clint sitting on the curb outside of the convenience store attached to the gas station, a police officer standing over him and jotting something down on a pad. 

“Clint!” Natasha gasped as she ran up to them. 

Clint looked up at the sound of her voice, but his gaze was hazy and slid past her for a moment. He gave her a strained smile. 

“Hey, Nat.”

“What happened?” Natasha demanded as she dropped down to a knee next to Clint, looking him up and down for any sign of injury. At least at a glance he seemed to be in once piece. 

“He was in the store when three guys went in to rob it,” the police officer said. “After they got the money, they were gonna shoot the attendant, but your boyfriend intervened. Saved the kid’s life and took down all three robbers.” The officer sounded impressed, obviously having no idea who he was talking to or about. “He did get a nasty bump on the back of his head from one of the guys’ guns during the altercation, though. I told him he should go to the hospital, but he’s refusing.”

“Are you okay?” Natasha asked, putting a hand to Clint’s cheek and tilting his head up so she could get a better look at his eyes. His gaze was a little glassy, but his pupils at least seemed to be dilating properly.

“‘M fine,” Clint mumbled. “I don’t need a… a...” he sighed tiredly as he waved a hand vaguely, “you know.”

“Well, I’m convinced,” Natasha said sarcastically. He looked up at the police officer. “Thank you, officer. I can take it from here.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the office said, nodding his head before walking away. 

“C’mon,” Natasha said, standing up and reaching back down to pull Clint up to his feet. He swayed dangerously and Natasha wedged herself in next to him in order to keep him from falling over. “C’mon, let’s go,” she urged as she led them over to where Steve was hovering back by the car. 

“Is he okay,” Steve asked with concern as he eyed the way that Clint was leaning on Natasha as they approached. 

“Steve?” Clint said, confused. 

“He got caught in a robbery attempt,” Natasha explained. “He subdued three guys, but apparently took a pretty good hit to the head. He’s likely got a concussion.”

Then, very suddenly, Clint tipped to the side that Natasha wasn’t supporting. She panicked for a moment, thinking he was about to collapse and she shifted quickly to try to catch him, Steve doing the same from Clint’s over side… until he leaned over, braced one hand on the car and heaved the contents of his stomach onto the pavement at his feet. 

“Make that, he definitely has a concussion,” Natasha said flatly as he heaved again. 

“I’ll call Bruce,” Steve said, pulling his phone from his pocket. “Have him meet us on the med floor of the Tower.” 

“Thanks,” Natasha said appreciatively, wincing as Clint dry heaved a few times, having emptied his stomach. 

As Steve stepped away to make the call, Natasha put a hand on Clint’s back, rubbing it gently in order to provide what little comfort that she could. The dry heaving episode seemed to pass after a few minutes, and Clint braced both his forearms on the car as he struggled to catch his breath. He winced and then spit, trying to get the rancid taste out of his mouth. 

“C’mon,” Natasha urged. “I think there’s a bottle of water in the car.”

Clint blinked blearily at her, looking even more dazed than he had before. She opened the door of the car and gently guided him into the backseat, closing the door behind him. 

“How is he?” Steve asked as he came back. 

“I think he’s getting more disoriented,” Natasha said grimmly. “Let’s just get him home. We can come back for his bike tomorrow.” 

“Good idea,” Steve agreed. 

As Steve slid back into the passenger’s seat, Natasha rounded the car and got into the backseat on the other side so that she could monitor Clint on the ride back to the Tower. She had Steve locate a bottle of water that had been rolling around on the floor of the front passenger’s seat for a week weeks now, and as Steve pulled back out into traffic, Natasha managed to get Clint to take a few small sips. As he sipped, she leaned over to check the back of his head with the flashlight on her phone. There was no blood, but a large bump where the gun had made contact with his skull. 

“I need you to stay away until Bruce checks you out,” Natasha told him when he leaned his head back and his eyes sagged. 

“I jus’ need some sleep,” Clint slurred. 

“Hey,” Natasha snapped, poking him in the side as his eyes were sliding shut. “No sleeping.”

“Mean,” Clint mumbled, though at least his eyes were open again. 

“It’s what you get when you go off on your own in the middle of the night,” Natasha scolded. 

“Sorry,” Clint said with a light smirk. 

“You know, Clint, if you ever need a sparring buddy in the middle of the night, I’m usually up at all hours too,” Steve spoke up, glancing at them in the rearview mirror. 

“Between Steve’s Super Soldier Serum, Tony being a workaholic, Bruce’s ability to completely lose track of time, and my own shitty sleep schedule, there’s always someone awake at all hours in that damn Tower,” Natasha added. “There’s no reason for you to go off on your own when you can’t sleep, Clint.”

Clint looked a little surprised, like he’d never thought about that before. “I guess. Yeah.” 

“So, no more running around New Jersey of all places, playing one man vigilante?” Steve prompted pointedly. “I’ll drive to Jersey once to pick you up as a professional courtesy, but next time at least confine your escapades to New York. Okay?” 

Clint snorted a laugh. “Yeah, whatever you say, Cap.” 

[kathylewisseo]

Top 5 Caller Location Tracker App

A caller place hunter is principally wont to acquire the approximate location information of unknown callers or contacts you don't know well, exactly like the caller's city/country. If you wish to discover the one that's been harassing you by an unknown variety, then you don't have to look terribly way. Nowadays, there's a variety of caller location hunter apps obtainable, and you will be able to use these to satisfy your considerations. There square step many decision huntsman apps available currently, and some of the very best programs square measure recorded below for your convenience. Some Location Tracker Apps can even track the road info accurately.

 Truecaller

 Truecaller may be a free cell phone hunter by variety. It is one of the best and well-known display apps that are conjointly capable of caller place. This Location Tracker App is the world's best Caller ID & Spam Blocking app.

 Using this program, you can identify anonymous amounts, spam, or companies calling before picking up. Watch the true identity of every incoming phone anywhere in the world -- landline, cellular or prepaid.

 TheWiSpy Mobile Tracker

 TheWiSpy Mobile Tracker is Live Caller ID and Location tracker: You can see who's calling & identify unknown incoming calls via the caller identification with name & place information including city, operator, name, location, state.

 Live top mobile tracking apps helps you to monitor any phone number from any country in the world. City area, state, country, and community operator of the phone number will be displayed, and GPS location will be displayed on the maps. 

 Showcaller

 Showcaller lets you know who is calling even when the amount isn't in your contact list. Stop unwanted calls using Showcaller Call Blocker. You may opt to block numbers by letting Showcaller hang up the telephone before going through to your phone.

 Caller ID

 Caller ID: Who Called Me would be the top-rated dedicated name caller id app. Caller ID functions like a telephone number lookup, call blocker, telephone dialer, and telephone screen program. 30 million people trust.

 Caller ID helps identifies anonymous callers and shows who is calling you. Block spam calls, robocalls, telemarketing, and unwanted calls. Display proper caller identification name and region for you.

 Hiya -- Caller ID & Block

 Hiya Call Block Security identifies the calls that you want to take and blocks the numbers and texts you want to prevent. Hiya is free (no ads!) and is incredibly user friendly.

 Block annoyance calls, blacklist unwanted phone numbers and spy text messages, reverse phone search incoming call information, and receive annoyance call alerts.

[itsmeezaki]

How to Find Someone’s Location by Cell Phone Number

Everyone has their reasons to seek out someone’s location by telephone number. for folks, they could want to seek out their children’s approximate location to make sure their safety. For married couples suspecting a case of infidelity, tracking their spouse’s location gives them peace of mind and sanity. From time to time, some employers might want to use this method to see on their employees to form sure they're doing their job on-the-field. But no matter the aim, today’s generation of advanced digital technology gives capability and adaptability to locate your close pals in some ways.

If you’re keen on checking out how it works, confirm you grab your equipment ready. These effective methods prove that finding someone’s location by telephone number isn't as hard because it seems.

Can You Find Someone’s Location By A telephone Number?

Believe it or not, there are many free number lookup services available on the web and even on your Apps Store. But does it work? Some claim that it’s helpful, however, some might be just a hoax.

But if you think that tracking them employing a random website that shows abreast of your program can offer you an accurate result, think otherwise. Though sometimes you would possibly really get what you wanted, we wouldn’t recommend it. a number of these malicious sites are often quite deceiving and you’ll find yourself exposing your personal information on the web.

The best thanks to hunting variety, try employing a reliable third-party application and websites. And since there are many them, we’ve filtered a number of the foremost effective and reliable telephone number tracking tools. so that you'll locate a telephone number succinctly.

Fair warning: Before we proceed to the subsequent section, you would possibly need a replacement budget smartphone to maximize your location settings. Methods Track Someone’s Location

There are several effective methods on the way to find someone’s location by telephone number. you'll either install telephone number tracker software or application to your device, make use of CNAM lookup, or scour through the Google program or social media sites. But, let’s discuss them in details.

1. Phone Locator Tools and Applications

The easiest way is by using tracking software for your computer or installing an application for your mobile devices. Not only it's accessible and convenient, but a number of these tools also are free. Find My Device for Android

‘Find my Device’ allows you to trace the phone remotely. it's a component of Google Play Protect designed to secure your phone from malicious applications and unauthorized accesses. However, it only runs on Android 4.0 frozen dessert Sandwich or later.

Steps to download the application: Head to Google Play Store and look for ‘Find My Device.’ Tap on the primary search result and install it. After installing, check in to seek out My Device using the Google account you would like to use the service with. Give location access to the appliance. confirm your phone is connected to the web. Finally, you'll now track your phone and use extra features like locking and erasing your phone’s data remotely. Find My iPhone for iOS

Find My iPhone works precisely the same as Find My Device. rather than performing on Android, it works perfectly for iPhone users. you'll track your phone’s location, even lock and erase its data as long because it is connected to the web.

The only difference is locating my iPhone feature is already built within iOS, so, you don’t need to download it from the App Store.

Steps to activate the application:

Go to settings.

Tap on your name and Apple ID at the highest 

Tap iCloud.

Select Find My iPhone and switch to enable it.

You can now track your phone online via iCloud.com, or by logging in your iCloud ID from any iPhone, iPad, or iPod Touch. Download The Spyera App

As its name stated, Spyera may be a spy application and also a telephone number tracker that helps you trace someone’s location employing a telephone number. It helps you to remotely monitor people’s phone activities or secure your kids’ devices from any harmful activity on the online. Likewise, it's also compatible with Android, iPhone, iPad, Windows PC, and Mac OS.

How To Use Spyera:

Purchase an app license from its official website.

Install the appliance on your target’s phone.

Open your Spyera web panel and track your target’s location.

Spyera uses GPS on the target’s device and sends it to your web panel to access the info. If the target’s device doesn’t have GPS, the appliance will make use of the Wi-Fi connection to get the knowledge and send it to the online panel. Spyera is out there both on Android and iOS.

2. Use The Built-in IMEI Tracker

Fuss-free and convenient, IMEI Tracker is some things that everybody can do. IMEI stands for Internation Mobile Station Equipment Identity. And with its unique 15-digit number, you'll do wonder with it. And one among them is finding the lost or stolen phone.

How to Identify Your IMEI:

Go to Settings

Tap on General then About

Scroll right down to view your IMEI and write it down.

Or you can just dial *#06# on your phone (any mobile .) Locate the Phone Using IMEI:

Option 1.

Your telephone provider can track the phone. All you've got to try to do is to offer them the IMEI and allow them to do the work. you'll need to wait a couple of hours or days counting on the advisory of the corporate.

Option 2.

Download IMEI Tracker Applications on Google Play Store or Apple Apps Store.

3. caller ID Name (CNAM) search

Another useful method on the way to find someone’s location by a telephone number is to use CNAM lookup tools on the online. What it CNAM does is it allows you to spot a caller’s location. Not only that, but it also unveils all essential information including the owner’s name, the precise city, and states a person’s in. However, the downside is you've got to pay a little fee before accessing the knowledge.

There are two possible drawbacks to the present method: CNAM blocker. If the person you're trying to locate uses a CNAM blocker, the decision won't be identified since this feature hides the caller’s name and telephone number. Robot-operated Call. Unknown calls don't show any details of the telephone number.

4. Social Media Or Google Search

The easiest telephone number search is to seem up the telephone number you're tracking within the program of Facebook and Google.

The results will show whether the telephone number is linked to any account on the web, be it on Facebook or other social media sites. If it's connected, you'll be ready to track the situation of the telephone number by visiting the profile as long because it is about publicly.

[ruinmylifc]

𝙱𝚄𝚃  𝙵𝙾𝚁  𝙽𝙾𝚆  𝙸𝚃'𝚂  𝚃𝙸𝙼𝙴  𝚃𝙾  𝚁𝚄𝙽  »  𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘣𝘭𝘦.

𝘞𝘏𝘖 : dante armstrong.

𝘔𝘌𝘕𝘛𝘐𝘖𝘕𝘚 : mateo serrano & emilio garcia ( + armstrong family )

𝘋𝘈𝘛𝘌 : 31st october 2019.

𝘞𝘏𝘌𝘙𝘌 : between the outskirts of boston and ashcroft.

𝘚𝘜𝘔𝘔𝘈𝘙𝘠 : i should never have left you alone. 

𝚃𝚁𝙸𝙶𝙶𝙴𝚁  𝚆𝙰𝚁𝙽𝙸𝙽𝙶𝚂 : mentions of serious injury, kidnapping and death.

nothing. two weeks on the hunt for the bastard and they have nothing. it’s not like dante to go nowhere with a lead but alas, that is exactly what has happened. of course, these things can take weeks, months even to flesh out yet dante doesn’t feel like he has that amount of time to spare. mateo’s already been staying with his family for three quarters of the year and the longer the fbi go without any significant arrests or anything important for that matter, he knows the relationship and trust he’s building with the boy will be deplete. not to mention what his family must be thinking, having a stranger in their house for so long with minimal explanation. they deserve it, the truth, yet for their protection he simply cannot allow it ― although, right now, protection doesn’t seem to be dante’s strongest suit. 

hand on his hip, the other rubbing along the short stubble growing along his jaw, dante stands in the temporary, makeshift office deep thought. there’s something odd about this situation they’re in ; emilio hasn’t been spotted once since they’ve been ‘on his back’ and the only ground the team have managed to cover are where he has been beforehand. deep in dante’s gut he can sense that something isn’t right, that coming out here perhaps was a waste of time and leaving mateo and his family vulnerable was a mistake. members of his team are talking to him, asking for their next move yet the supervisory agent is too lost in his own thoughts to hear them. a sense of foreboding washing over him as he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket, and he knows he has to answer it... but he just doesn’t want to. things have been too quiet and too smooth for too long, and dante has a hunch that whatever is waiting for him on the other end of his mobile is going to be the exact opposite of what he wants, no needs to hear. 

“ ‘scuse me.” he murmurs mindlessly to no one in particular, instead generally to the small group of agents before him. their chatter is not of importance, not when his gut is twisting and causing him mild discomfort and the ringtone finally processes through his brain. that’s the office. he spoke to the agents there earlier in the day, why would they be calling again? brows furrow as he rummages in his pocket, tugging out his iphone and taking a couple of steps away. not giving himself the chance to read the caller id, dante’s answering the call in a jiffy and his feet mindlessly wonder further away from the group.

“special agent armstrong.” his voice is deep and gravelly, body tense as he anticipates what is about to be thrown his way. thankfully, he doesn’t have to wait very long ( at all, actually ) for the person on the other end to give him him what he wants.

“dante, it’s patrick. we’ve lost signal on mateo’s tracker.” 

it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to pick up the urgency in patrick’s voice ; breathless and words borderline scrambled. the team know that joking around with such serious matters are a no go, even on april fools and holidays like halloween where things are automatically spooky, so dante’s stomach drops. they’ve lost the signal ― that doesn’t just happen. 

“what do you mean you’ve lost the signal?” disbelief sets in first, brows knitting inward as he attempts to process what this actually means. thing is, he knows what it means, but there’s a big part of him that hopes that it’s simply a technological failure.

“boss, one minute we knew his exact location and the next it was gone. no signal whatsoever and we’ve had no outage or ―” 

“you send me the location he was last seen immediately. i’ll make my way there myself and you get the swat team out looking. this could be emilio we’re dealing with so we need every agent on this, do you understand me?” this is why dante refrains from taking cases too personally, or getting too attached as something always seems to happen. unfortunately, he doesn’t always follow through with this. everybody knows dante will do anything to protect his family, and mateo is apart of that now. he will never understand to the true extent of what mateo has been through in his short time on earth, but he remembers exactly what he thought when he first met him. what if that was roarke. how could mateo be dealt such a tragic hand? what in the world made him deserve this? nothing. he doesn’t deserve it ; he deserves someone who will fight for him and that is what dante will do. 

holding the phone ear to shoulder as he fetches his suit jacket, dante’s already quite hurriedly making his way towards the entrance of the small space the fbi have hired out. patrick is rambling in his ear and as much as they should be, the words aren’t going through. all the man cares about is getting out there and finding mateo. there is a possibility that he has run away, but even if he has the danger he is exposed to is great. “you, you and you,” the agent mutters, clicking his fingers and pointing to the few agents he feels he can trust the most right now. “get your shit and head into the main office. patrick is going to send out the location of where mateo was last seen and i need every street camera viewed to see who the fuck was with him. this is urgent.” as if they couldn’t tell by the state of emergency in his voice and the way he’s storming for the exit. 

dante has always thought of worst case scenario, and now is no different. he has no care for what patrick is telling him, in fact he’s hanging up on him on his way to the car. emilio’s got him, mateo’s gonna die, he’s gonna come after my family. what ifs race through the man’s head a hundred miles an hour, all making him feel worse and worse as the seconds tick by ever so slowly. every second matters, and he feels like time is running out. 

how he manages to get out of the small area the team were in to the highway is unknown to dante as he’s simply running on the adrenaline and fear coursing through his veins. with mateo’s last whereabouts now up on his phone all he can think about as he speeds off is how he’s failed. he’s not even in ashcroft and he’s failed. he promised to keep the boy safe, promised he was going to do everything he can to put emilio behind bars yet he leaves for two weeks, acting on what appears to be a distraction and it’s all gone to shit. the boy could be dead already because he left him vulnerable, left him at home with a family that don’t even know the real reason why he’s there in the first place. 

not only has he left matty open to danger, but his family as well. if emilio knows he’s in ashcroft, then he would have to know where he’s been staying all this time. how could he be so stupid? leaving his wife and children defenceless ( even if his wife is a detective ). shouldn’t have done this, shouldn’t have done that, it all races through his head and causes a strong headache to irrupt. his heart feels like it’s going to thump out of his chest and the nausea he’s been feeling since the very second he answered his phone is worse with every second. 

“god, i’m sorry. i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry.” the apology is a mere murmur under his breath, the guilt inside gradually becoming too great. “mateo i’m so sorry.” it’s just dante in the car, but releasing those few words help ( slightly ), yet also are distracting him. he needs to be focused, keep himself from letting his own personal feelings get in the way. if emilio has captured mateo, then dante will want nothing more than to rip his head off... but he can’t. he can’t. he doesn’t want to lose his job and he’s seen what happens in the jails ; that’s not the life he thinks he’d be able to survive. as much as he would like to give the prick a piece of his mind, but the bastard will get what’s coming for him... he has to.

every other day the drive doesn’t feel overly long, yet tonight it’s agonisingly long. mateo could be dead already. it’s the only thing running through his head as all he can do is drive whilst breaking out in a cold sweat. a phone call from another agent sparks only slightly good news yet it does nothing to settle his thumping heart and churning gut ; at least he knows where mateo’s last been seen. seconds feel like hours, and the breeze coming through the window is the only thing keeping the threat of passing out at bay. “so fucking stupid, of course it was a distraction.” 

cussing and blaming himself alone in his car will do nothing for his mental health, but he cannot help it... he’s always been self-destructive. when he finally arrives, it’s just him, no other agents are there yet and in a way, that’s how he wants it. he’d rather it be him to have to fire the fatal bullet then anyone else on the team. car screeching to a halt as he pulls up, it’s evident that locking the car and even putting a bullet proof vest on are not of priority as dante’s investigating the area. loaded gun up at the ready, heart pounding in his ear, it’s the sight he soon comes across that makes his blood run cold. 

please, no. 

[unlikecharlie]

Anonymous said: Ohh I love the sentence starter post. If you want could you write "why are you lying to me"? Pairing tonyxanyone (except steve)

Pairing: tonyrhodey

Rating: angst

4.Why are you lying to me?

Rhodey had never been so worried in his life as he was in that moment. Okay, maybe that was a bit of an overreaction considering he’d nearly died of worry when Tony went missing in Afghanistan, but he was worried, alright?

They’d been invited over for dinner by Carol and her freshly acquired girlfriend, and everything was going so smoothly, all of them laughing together and having a good time. Then Carol’s girlfriend said something, what Rhodey didn’t know, and Tony excused himself, hurrying out of the door. He, of course, went after him, concerned for his husband, especially knowing how Tony got sometimes with his anxiety and PTSD. But when he stepped foot outside, the yard was empty, the street quiet, and no sign of Tony anywhere.

His phone was turned off, F.R.I.D.A.Y. refused to let Rhodey know his husband’s location, and he was left to walk home alone, dialing the idiot’s number every 10 seconds in hopes that he’d answer, all the while making up progressively worse scenarios in his mind.

What if he had been kidnapped? What if he was in a worse state than Rhodey’d thought and he was going to hurt himself?

Rhodey’s mind couldn’t stop spinning with anxiety and worry.

He didn’t stop trying to reach Tony once he got home, even running scans to try and locate Tony’s armor. Either he’d disabled the tracker or F.R.I.D.A.Y. was messing with the signal because there was no sign of Tony anywhere on the map, it was like he’d vanished into thin air or had been swallowed whole by the earth.

A few hours later, Rhodey’s phone beeped with an incoming call, and he jumped to his feet, scrambling to reach the phone with his heart in his throat. He nearly wept when Tony’s caller ID greeted him.

“Tony, thank god! You scared the shit out of me, are you okay?”

The line was silent on the other end for a while, then Rhodey heard Tony breathing out shakily before he answered, his voice seeming drained of energy.

“I’m fine, Rhodey Bear.”

“You’re not fine, Tones. Why did you run off like that? What happened? You should have talked to me, not run away!”

“I said I’m fine,” Tony sighed through gritted teeth. He sounded like he was having a migraine, and a shitty one at that. Rhodey just wished his husband would stop being an idiot and came home. “Look, I’ll stay here for a while, clear my head. I don’t know when I’ll be home.”

His words punched Rhodey in the gut.

“Why are you lying to me?” his voice was small and quiet, almost blending in with the static of the phone. “I know you’re not fine, I know you need someone. But you’re pushing me away. Again. Why, Tony?”

Tony was quiet again. “I’ll call you when I’m on my way home,” he replied after a few seconds, dismissing Rhodey’s worry like it was nothing. He didn’t say anything and before Rhodey had any chance to get another word in, the line went dead. He tried to call back but the phone was turned off once again and Rhodey was left to stare at the wall in worry, anger and hurt, trying to make sense of what had just happened.

He wouldn’t let this rest. He would have a serious talk with Tony once he was back home. Nothing excused his behavior, and Rhodey deserved more than just being left on hold every time Tony wished to.

[allthings-sandy]

Not What I Expected Chapter 5

Words: 2k

Summary: (Y/N) just wants to be a normal girl and go to school like every other teenager. She got her chance but only to look after a certain superhero in Queens.

MASTERLIST

Chapter 6

‘ When were you going to tell me about the Vulture dude? And about the guns?’ my dad asked me. I was back in my room and my dad video called me to have a little chat.

‘ I didn't know about them until just now. Peter just found out about it himself so why would you think I would know?’ I asked him.

‘ Um you're my daughter?’ he said.

‘ It’s not like you would have known if it weren't for Peter.’ I told him.

‘ No, I would have known either way I just happened to find out about it early.’ He told me.

‘ Look, I just want him to be safe so you have to really look after him. I trust you.’ He said before ending the call. I sighed and leaned my head back on my pillow.

‘ He didn't even tell me to be safe.’

Peter and I were in workshop where he was tampering with the chitauri device. ‘ Hey guys, thanks for bailing on me.’ Ned said.

‘ Sorry, something came up.’ I said as I looked at Peter as he looked at me.

‘ What is that?’ Ned asked as he leaned in to get a closer look.

‘ I don’t know. Some guy tried to vaporise me with it.’ Peter replied. Peter and Ned concluded that the some guy were combining alien tech with ours. With them using a chitauri energy core, I can only imagine the weapons they build will be limitless.

Peter then hit the device a little bit too hard and the energy core popped out.

‘ I gotta figure out what this thing is and which makes it.’ Peter said.

‘ We'll go to the lab after class and run tests.’ Ned suggested to which we nodded at.

‘ Cool handshake.’ I said as they did some old-school handshake that really no one uses anymore.

‘ It's a cool handshake!’ Ned exclaimed.

‘ I didn't say it wasn't cool!’ I said and laughed. Being Ned and Peter's friend was more than I could ask for.

‘ You coming?’ Peter asked me as he and Ned packed their things.

‘ No, I have to take this call. Go ahead, I'll catch up with you later.’ I told him. It was the first time Steve called me so I couldn't ignore it.

‘ We're not going to wait for you. You're going to miss out on all the cool tests we're gonna run.’ Ned said and I rolled my eyes and waved. After they were out of sight and everyone in the workshop was gone, I picked up the call.

‘ Hey, (Y/N)! How are you?’ Steve asked me. Hearing his voice made me feel a little relief and nostalgic.

‘ I'm great. School is great.’ I replied as I leaned back on the wooden table.

‘ Tony’s been saying how great you are with spying on Spider-Man and everything. The rest of us here can't wait to hear from you.’ Steve said and I smiled hearing that, yet I felt guilty. There were bound to be things I would keep from him regarding Spider-Man because deep down, I think Spider-Man is doing the right thing.

‘ I can't wait to see them too. I haven't seen them in a long time.’

‘ They really miss you. After this mission, you might be able to join the Avengers!’ Steve exclaimed. I smiled bitterly.

‘ Yeah. Can’t wait.’ I said with just enough enthusiasm and ended the call. I sighed and took a deep breath. Having second thoughts suck.

As I got up and walked towards the stairs leading to the entrance, I saw 2 rugged-looking men walking down the stairs. One of the guys was the one who tried to kill Peter last night. I immediately hid behind the heavy equipment. The 2 men walked towards the table Peter, Ned and I were at when we were looking at the energy core. I then saw Peter slowly walking down the stairs. We made eye contact before Peter proceeded to hide behind the table.

‘ It's saying there's an energy pulse here.’ The guys holding a device said.

‘ There's no sign of the weapon. And even if it was here, now it’s gone.’ The other guy said. They turned around to leave and for almost a second, I thought they were going to see Peter. But being Spider-Man, he hid by hanging under the table. The guys looked around one more time before leaving.

‘ (Y/N).’ Peter came to me as I stood up from my hiding spot and grasped my shoulders.

‘ You alright?’ He asked me, looking at me from head to toe.

‘ They didn’t find me so, yeah.’ I said.

‘ They were here to look for their device.’ I told him.

‘ Yeah. That's why I put a tracking device on one of them.’ Peter said.

‘ Come on, we're going to find our where they’re headed.’ Peter said and I followed.

Me, Peter and Ned made our way to Peter’s apartment. On the way there, we bought a bunch of snacks because we knew it was going to be a very long day. Once we got there, we sat on our respective spots in Peter’s bedroom and got comfortable. Peter gave Ned his suit’s gauntlet which displayed a holographic map of the city. After a few hours of being holed up in his room, snacking and Ned playing with Spider-Man’s mask, we finally got a location.

‘ They stopped.’ Ned said after he sat up from leaning on Peter’s bed, still wearing Peter’s mask.

‘ Maryland?’

‘ Why would they go there?’ I asked as I leaned forward to look at the map.

‘ I don’t know. Evil lair?’ Peter answered without taking his eyes off the map.

‘ They have a lair?’

‘ A gang with alien guns run by a gun with wings? Yeah, they have a lair.’ Peter said.

‘ Badass.’ Ned said as he nodded, obviously finding it intriguing.

‘ But it’s in Maryland. How are you going to get there? It’s like 300 miles away.’ I asked Peter. Upon realization, he and Ned turned their heads to a poster that was pasted on his wall; the national decathlon competition.

‘ It’s not too far from D.C.’ Peter said.

‘ Didn’t you tell Mr. Harrington you can’t compete? I mean, they might not welcome you back considering that Flash is in the team too.’ I told him.

‘ Of course they would! Peter’s like, the best player on the team. They have to take him back.’ Ned said optimistically.

‘ I hope so.’

‘ Peter! Wait up!.’ I shouted as I saw Peter across the hall. I walked up to him fast.

‘ Hey, I really have to go.’ Peter said as he walked backwards. I stepped forward a little to grab his hand.

‘ I have something for you before you go.’ I said and let go of his hand to dig through my pocket. I took out a white gemstone necklace and examined it to make sure nothing had happened to it.

‘ Here. Wear it at all times. It’ll bring good luck.’ I told him as I handed him the necklace. I decided to make him the necklace just the last minute. I input some energy in the necklace so if he’s in trouble, the necklace would sense it and give him the energy to fight whatever it is. There were a few times when things didn’t go very smoothly in the making of the necklace in the past so this would be my first successful one. Fingers crossed.

‘ Thanks, (Y/N). You didn’t have to.’ Peter said with a surprised look on his face. He put it on and smiled proudly with the necklace on. ‘ I love it. Thank you. I'll update you on what happens!’ He said and he walked away.

‘ Be careful!’ I shouted as I saw him slip out the doors of the school. Something was definitely going to happen. All I could do was wish him luck.

I was hanging around the new facility, checking the rooms and whatnot and suddenly my phone vibrates from my pocket. I couldn’t tell but my face instantly lit up when I saw the caller id. Without a moment to waste, I picked up the video call.

‘ Hey (Y/N). Ned and I had just arrived at the hotel.’ Peter said as he ran his fingers through his hair.

‘ Hi (Y/N)! I saw the necklace you made Peter and was wondering where mine was.’

‘ Peter needs more luck than you do. I'll make one for you when you come back alright?’ I said with guilt trailing along as I spoke.

‘ You said it, you can't take it back.’ Ned said and turned the screen around so I was seeing his laptop. I saw a bunch of codes. A look of confusion aroused on my face.

‘ Peter hooked up his suit to my laptop. He's trying to remove the tracker from his suit.’ Ned explained to me. I gestured for Ned to turn the phone to Peter so I could see him.

‘ Peter, are you sure that's a good idea?’ I asked him, concerned.

‘ Sure it is. I gotta follow these guys to their boss before they move again and I don't really want Mr. Stark to know about it.’ He said without looking up. He then pulled out the tracker from his suit carefully.

‘ All right, Happy, enjoy tracking this lamp.’ He said and disappeared from my sight to place the tracker on the lamp. I felt so guilty, it could kill me. I know all these things about what Peter was going to do but I wasn't going to tell my dad. I could but it just didn't seem right. Peter has a lot of potential and my dad couldn’t see that.

‘ There's a ton of other subsystems in here.’ Ned said. I asked him to show me.

‘ They’re all disabled by the Training Wheels Protocol.’ I said as a squinted my eyes at the screen.

‘ What? Training Wheels Protocol? Turn it off.’ Peter told Ned.

‘ You sure? I mean, Mr. Stark probably put that on you for a reason.’ I said.

‘ Come on, I don't need training wheels!’ Peter said and disappeared from the screen once again. Ned turned the camera around, showing me Peter jumping on the bed.

‘ I'm sick of him treating me like a kid all the time. It's not cool.’

‘ But you are a kid.’ Ned replied.

‘ Yeah but a kid who can stop a bus with his bare hands.’ Peter retaliated.

‘ I just don't think this is a great idea. I mean, what if this is illegal?’ Ned asked. Peter got off the bed and appeared at Ned's side.

‘ Look, please. This is my chance to prove myself. I can handle it. Ned, come on.’ Peter pleaded.

‘ What do you think, (Y/N)?’ Ned asked me. That was a hard one. There was only so many things his suit could do. Turning off the protocol would definitely unlock his suit's true abilities but it would lead to some consequences which Peter isn't afraid of.

‘ I think it's wrong but... I think Peter can handle it.’ I said.

‘ I still don't think this is a good idea.’ Ned said with an anxious look.

‘ The guy in the chair.’ Peter coaxed him.

‘ Don't do that.’

‘ Come on.’ Peter pleaded to which Ned gave in. Ned turned the protocol off with a few taps on his laptop and I heard a buzzing noise off screen.

‘ Good luck, Peter.’ I said before he took off in his Spider-Man suit and ended the call. I sighed heavily as I walked back to my room. I plopped on my bed face forward. I hate myself for worrying about him. I hate myself for always thinking about him 24/7. I hate the fact that he’s obsessed with Liz. I hate myself for liking him. Damn him.

[jamescarter9world-blog]

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In the latter scenario, the directory can be used provided as a web-based service through proprietary terminals or over the web, or on physical media like CD-ROM. Since the search is cost-free, the business numbers will be listed and you'll be in a position to erase and delete the numbers you don't want and also erase the completely free services out there. Get the Scoop on White Pages Before You're Too Late Therefore, if you or a loved one wants to trace a telephone number, then you get a fantastic idea of ways to get started. In truth, it's probably a great thing for every one of us are cell phone numbers aren't listed in any databases that can easily be read online. If you're looking for a reverse phone number book, there are a lot of them out their. Cell numbers continue to be thought to be private by the law, and there are not any directories for such numbers that were put out by the providers. If you would like to look for people by phone number it's the reverse search services which you will utilize. With all these hundreds of millions of searches involved, it's no surprise that folks wish to come across a complimentary reverse mobile phone lookup service to find the answers they are searching for. If it is a landline number you're looking for, there are an infinite number of on-line directories called white pages that archive the names and phone numbers of people all around the country. So you're not the just one, there were at least 50,000 more people seeking to understand how to reverse lookup a telephone number exactly like you. Or a person could earn a number private by punching a particular code in their mobile phone. Therefore, should you need to discover who owns a telephone number now you are aware of how to do so in many ways. It's comforting to understand that tracing phone numbers isn't a huge hassle anymore, since Internet like in many different instances has come to provide help! If you believe that an unknown and rather annoying phone number is likely to stay anonymous since you do not understand what things to do, consider finding the info by yourself. There are lots of commercial sites that provide a reverse mobile phone number trace service who will charge you for the info that you need. You might have to use a telephone number tracker support. After registering for reverse phone trace support, you are now able to begin using their reverse mobile phone lookup services. Finding the Best White Pages With the online today, you can readily conduct searches by means of white pages directory online. Due to so many directories, it's challenging to discover the best one. A reverse phone directory will let you get access to that information and a lot more. Hunting for absolutely free personal details aren't that easy and it can require as much skill that sometimes you must be geeky about it. There are 2 forms of directories that you may use to trace a number. Make sure you receive the whole number and double check it for accuracy so you do not wind up with a poor search or a search that isn't correct. Our services are based on the site and the sole thing needed is an online connection. In the instance of free white pages websites, you can use no more than the very first few letters of the name you're hunting for to be able to bring up some results from which to pick. You may use the yellow pages to seek out businesses and individuals. Whispered White Pages Secrets The white page ought to be the very first thing you try. In case the number you're searching for is a land line, there's an excellent possibility you will have the ability to look this up online or in the local white pages. Before people search is not so popular. There's still a means to discover the complete name, address, and other details about the owner of a cell phone. If you're looking for information about an individual in the usa, Whitepages will be in a position to find information for at least 200 million people. You may also search the information of the individual on online white pages.

The White Pages Trap

How Reverse Lookup Phone Number System Works To discover the identity and other details of a caller, you will need to find a reputable on-line agency that provides this facility.  Sure, there are lots of services readily available, and a few of them are free, but how good are they.  Often, however, it will just announce that the info is unpublished.

The 5-Minute Rule for White Pages

Many people believe tracing a telephone number appears to be only something the government authority like the police of FBI can do because it sounds quite high tech.  Anyone searching using only email addresses might not have a fast time to retrieve what they're looking for.  Actually if it is possible to think of any place that may have people and street address info in exactly the same place you are able to use it in order to search.

[wemarketresearchreport]

Smartwatch Market Size, Share, Global Analysis, Growth by Forecast 2030

Smartwatch market is valued at USD 29.52 billion in 2022 and is projected to reach a value of USD 123.60 billion in 2030 expanding at a CAGR of 19.6% over the forecast period of 2022-2030.

An atomic clock-accurate digital device worn on the wrist is called a smartwatch.

It is connected to a smartphone and gets alerts for new emails, messages, and phone calls.

There are several apps in it that offer extra functionality like showing stock prices, maps, and weather updates.

Additionally, it has the ability to send and receive text messages as well as phone calls.

Due to the fact that it comes with fitness trackers and health monitoring tools to assist customers in keeping track of their health, its popularity is expanding globally.

Smartwatch Market- Overview

Smartwatches are predominantly designed to, make phone calls and send and receive text messages. These are designed to be worn on their own or when they are paired with a smart phone.

They provide features, such as connecting to the internet, to run mobile apps, or to make calls, checking caller ID, accessing stock & weather updates, also the provision of fitness monitoring capabilities, offering GPS coordinates & location directions, and many more functions.

A smartwatch is defined as a wrist-worn digital device, which provides atomic clock accuracy. It is also linked to a smartphone and helps in receiving notifications for e-mails, texts, and incoming phone calls.

A smartwatch includes a number of apps that provide added features, such as presenting weather updates, maps, and stock values.

The popularity of these watches are growing around the world because it includes fitness trackers and also helps in monitoring devices to help consumers track their health.

Key Trends of Global Smartwatch Market: • Rise in demand for wireless sports and fitness devices Rise in demand for wireless sports and fitness devices, increase in health awareness among end users, and surge in technological advancements by market players are anticipated to boost the growth of smart watch market. Additionally, rising emphasis on connected devices and smart systems among several industries, and growing demand for connected ecosystem are projected to offer significant opportunities for smart watch market globally. The increase in data dependency among end users and huge investments in building smart cities by the government of various countries are the key success areas that bolster the demand for smart wearable devices. • Evolving Technologies As technologies continue to evolve and merge in an ever changing digital world, a number of theoretical models have been proposed to study the user’s adoption of new technologies. Wearable technologies such as smart watches are also a new form of fashion accessories for users. Led by inventions, smart watch manufacturers are investing heavily on the R&D activities.

Request to Download Sample of This Strategic Report https://wemarketresearch.com/sample-request/smartwatch-market/152/

Segmental analysis of the Market

Based on product

·         Extension

·         Standalone

·         Classical

Extension smartwatches have dominated the market growth. This is because of its various features and the growth of well-equipped smartwatches.

Based on application

·         Personal Assistance

·         Wellness

·         Healthcare

·         Sports

·         Others

Healthcare segment has dominated the market over the forecast period. This is because of the rise in awareness among the consumers regarding their health and fitness.

Based on operating system

·         Watch IOS

·         Android

·         REAL-TIME OPERATING SYSTEM

·         Tizen

·         Others

WatchIOS segment has dominated the market growth over the forecast period. This is because IOS has gained the maximum popularity among consumers.

North America is anticipated to amplify at a considerable CAGR

North America, Europe, Asia pacific, and Middle East and Africa are the major regions constituting the geographical landscape of smartwatch market. Among these, North America has dominated the regional market share. This is because of the rise in number of users in the region.

Table of Contents

1. Global Smartwatch Market Introduction and Market Overview

2. Global Smartwatch Market - Executive Summary

3. Smartwatch Market Trends, Outlook, and Factors Analysis

4. Global Smartwatch Market: Estimates & Historic Trend Analysis (2018 to 2021)

5. Global Smartwatch Market Estimates & Forecast Trend Analysis, by Deployment

6. Global Smartwatch Market Estimates & Forecast Trend Analysis, by Component

7. Global Smartwatch Market Estimates & Forecast Trend Analysis, by Content Type

8. Global Smartwatch Market Estimates & Forecast Trend Analysis, by End Use

9. Global Smartwatch Market Analysis and Forecast, by Region

10. North America Smartwatch Market: Estimates & Forecast Trend Analysis

11. Europe Smartwatch Market: Estimates & Forecast Trend Analysis

12. Asia Pacific Smartwatch Market: Estimates & Forecast Trend Analysis

13. Middle East & Africa Smartwatch Market: Estimates & Forecast Trend Analysis

14. Latin America Smartwatch Market: Estimates & Forecast Trend Analysis

15. Competitive Landscape

16. Company Profiles

17. Assumptions and Research Methodology

18. Conclusions and Recommendations

Competitive Landscape

The prominent players influencing the competitive hierarchy of the market

sphere are Apple Inc., Fitbit Inc., Garmin, Huawei Technologies, Fossil Group, Motorola, Sony Corporation, Samsung Electronics, LG Electronics, TomTom International and Amazon.

Major questions answered in this report

·         What is the growth rate of Smartwatch market?

·         What are the primary growth determinants of the market?

·         Which are the major regions constituting the geographical landscape of the market?

·         Which are the prominent companies operating in the market?

Key takeaways from the report

·         Smartwatch market is projected to register at a CAGR of 19.6% over the forecast period of 2022-2030.

·         The increase in demand for wireless sports and fitness devices is aiding

·         market progression.

·         Healthcare segment has poised to expand significantly over the forecast period.

·         North America is anticipated to amplify at a considerable CAGR.

Get more details on this report:-  https://wemarketresearch.com/reports/smartwatch-market/152/

About Us

WE MARKET RESEARCH is an established market analytics and research firm with a domain experience sprawling across different industries. We have been working on multi-county market studies right from our inception. Over the time, from our existence, we have gained laurels for our deep rooted market studies and insightful analysis of different markets.

Our strategic market analysis and capability to comprehend deep cultural, conceptual and social aspects of various tangled markets has helped us make a mark for ourselves in the industry. WE MARKET RESEARCH is a frontrunner in helping numerous companies; both regional and international to successfully achieve their business goals based on our in-depth market analysis. Moreover, we are also capable of devising market strategies that ensure guaranteed customer bases for our clients.

Contact Us:

We Market Research

Phone: +1(929)-450-2887

Email: sales@wemarketresearch.com

[sugar-booger]

One More Adventure Ch.2

An Endless Summer fanfiction ( Jake x MC)

Hey guys! I didn't expect such a good batch of reviews for the first chapter in fanfiction.net! Thank you so much! I do hope you'll like my take on this post-ending fanfiction. Shoutout to the wonderful person who put my fic as a recommended read on Reddit. Sending so much love to you, and everyone who's reading.

Anyhow, enjoy! Critiques and reviews are always welcome. I would love to know what I can improve on!

"I said maybe, you're gonna be the one that saves me… you're gonna be the one that saves me, you're gonna be the one that saves me…"

Jake strums the last of the chords until the echoes fade, and he sighs. He sets aside his guitar on the floor, himself sprawled across the messy comfort of his bed. He closes his eyes. Another night goes by. Los Angeles was a little too noisy for his taste, but it is what it is. Rebecca's here, LAX pays well and gives him the flexibility to choose his routes and schedules, and it was busy and loud enough sometimes to keep him distracted. Good number of bars too, a number of places to get the kind of whiskey he liked.

But their reunion at La Huerta was now a turning point; no whiskey or noise could erase such thoughts in his mind— it was Taylor. Taylor. Taylor all over again, for five months.

Behind closed eyes, Jake tries to remember every detail about her—her blue eyes, her goddamn smile, the curve of her lips and how soft they were every time he kissed them, her voice, her hands, her waist, her body, the way she talked, the way she handled things—everything, he tries to keep all the small things that make her in his mind, memorizing them.

He wouldn't forget her. He doesn't want to.

Vibrating beneath tangled sheets, his phone rings. He opens his eyes lazily, greeted by the slightly grimy ceiling with a lone, dim light bulb. Large windows at the west side of his room filled mostly the illumination, casting faint colorful lights from the city streets and buildings outside.

He yanks the phone from under the blanket, near his leg. Eyes widened at the caller ID.

"Malfoy?"

"I know it's late there already. Sorry to interrupt your sleep," Aleister answers from the other line.

Jake sits up, pulling down his scrunched shirt. He could hear the indistinct traffic from Aleister's end. "Nah, it's fine. Wasn't sleepin' yet… You got something for me?"

It takes a few seconds of noise and screeches, and then Grace's voice takes over. Jake swears he heard swerving and some honks. "Jake, sorry… Aleister's driving. We just came back from London, and, er, we may need to regroup as soon as possible. How long do you think you could fly to Craig and Zahra's apartment in Hartfeld?"

"What?" Jake blinks. "LA to Massachusetts?"

"Yes. It's the safest place that we could discuss things. We… The PI finally located the Prism Gate and is ready to hand us some encrypted data we're giving to Zahra. It's still in Northbridge, and we've been given directions to its site but Silas Prescott completely rebuilt and fortified his security, so we may need to— Hello?"

The phone was on loud speaker, perched atop his cabinet. A notification pops up—a reply from a fellow pilot to Jake's message a few seconds ago if he would be able to pull some strings and get Jake to hop on the next flight to Boston.

"Five hours."

"What?" Grace asks.

Jake pulls out a duffel bag beneath his bed, quickly stuffing it with some clothes and his wallet. He starts getting dressed. "I'll get on a plane right now. Be there in five hours. Everyone's comin'?"

"I still need to call up Quinn, Michelle and Sean, but the rest are headed there. We'll be there in an hour."

"Countin' on it. Thanks. See ya." The pilot hangs up, his eyes lingering on the screen of his wallpaper, before nodding to himself and getting a move on. This was a risk that he'd take if it meant a chance to get to see her again.

He darts out behind the apartment they lived in, towards a figure hidden under a black cloth. Beneath the oil-tainted fabric was a sleek, custom-built street motorcycle with a lustrous combo of green and black. Jake unchains it and slips on the helmet, securing his duffel bag behind, and speeds off into the blaring scenario that is the busy, gaudy night life of LA.

The pilot slips neatly into the traffic, through narrow spaces between cars and limousines that pollute the hectic roads. People in their glitzy and swanky clothes line up in front of the biggest clubs and bars, the lot of them arguing with bouncers. He shakes his head.

The colors and lights blur into the hazy background of buildings and establishments, and Jake skids to a stop at a red traffic light. 90 seconds. For the period he waited, there were flashing colors of red, blue and white from a shop, and Jake is reminded of Taylor again. Up at the control tower, the day they landed on La Huerta. It was the moment he really looked at her up-close—this woman he learned to appreciate, admire, and love over the next few weeks.

Taylor was a tough, resilient woman who balanced wit, compassion and fairness. Beauty and humor was just a bonus. She was someone who exhibited courage and bravery, putting on the armor for others when trouble was coming.

In the recording, she told him that it's because of him she had the strength and confidence to make that final decision. But Jake knew otherwise. He knew Taylor would be ready to give up everything for the good of everyone.

But that was what made things more painful. In exchange for the world's fate, for everyone's future, Taylor had to not be a part of it anymore. She never did belong to this world, but she fit perfectly in their lives. In his life, his heart. But he wanted to believe she made the right decision.

What would life be if they had chosen to stay in La Huerta together? If they had gone with Rourke's offer, would he be able to find her and fall in love again, in a world where they would never have met?

12 seconds. Jake clutches the throttle of his bike. He then sees Rebecca out patrolling, coming out from the corner of the street. Jake winks at her and does a finger gun gesture.

"Where—"

But he never gets to hear whatever she was about to say; he hustles further into the road to the airport as the light switched to green. In a matter of minutes, he reached his destination and boarded the plane smoothly, although he may have bribed some security personnel and fellow workmates for it.

In four and a half hours, Jake rouses awake as the plane descends into a calmer landscape. He quickly hops in a taxi that breezes by the quieter streets of Boston in the early morning, brown trees with crisp orange and yellow leaves peppered along the road and a serene view of the seaside just beyond. Right now, his body is screaming for coffee.

He checks his phone, the screen lined up with Rebecca's messages. Jake chuckles.

'Sorry, I'll be gone for a few days. Kinda needed to fly. Take care.'

The golden rays of the sun paint the pale sky as he goes further, and the scene melts into an array of smaller establishments and commercial spaces as they enter the town of Hartfeld. Hartfeld University covers almost the entirety of his journey. They stop in front of a sleek apartment complex, an intimidating building with six storeys and a polished black, white and grey façade.

He smoothens his sandy blonde hair and makes his way to Zahra and Craig's apartment, up on the fourth floor. He waits. A series of clicks could be heard from the other side.

"Yo, 'bout time." Craig greets him upon opening the door. He clears his throat. "Er, I mean, welcome to the… party! So nice of you to join us Jake, and we're totally just doing some happy reunion, yeah?"

Jake raises his brow at this attempt of concealing their meeting. Craig grins nervously, darting eyes looking for anyone behind Jake, or maybe some bugged device, a tracker, anything—and then Aleister calls from inside the room.

"Just please get him inside."

Craig ushers the pilot in and shuts the door, securing it with a number of locks. Jake meets seven other faces gathered around the living room area—Raj, Grace, Aleister, Diego, Varyyn, Sean, and Quinn. On the center table was a tray of freshly brewed coffee, and Raj offers him a cup. "Creamer and sugar are just here in case."

Jake graciously takes the black coffee. "Sweet Jesus, this is all I need. Thanks."

Grace leans forward. "Now that we're here, we will just wait for Estela to arrive. Zahra's in her office, and she'll call for us when she's laid out what we have. She's um, she said better not to disturb her."

He keeps his bag away and sits down beside Diego, sipping from the mug. "Is Sarah Connor fighting off Terminator?"

"She'll be arriving anytime soon." Aleister replies, putting away his phone after a seemingly stressed reading from his e-mails. "Her flight from San Trobida takes about three hours. It's the fastest I could get for my… er, her."

A slightly uncomfortable silence hangs in the air, until—

"So, like… She's your sister, right?" Craig asks.

"I… suppose so," the blond answers, his head low. "Besides Reginald and my father, she's the only relative I have. I'd want to have a good relationship with my own... sister. It's been five years, but we've… not quite bonded as siblings should."

"I'm sure it'll be okay," Grace assures him with a warm smile. "Estela would naturally choose to stay in San Trobida instead of here in the US, so you really don't get much time together. Maybe we can go out someday soon as a family?"

Aleister's pale cheeks flush a faint pink, but a grateful smile replaces his frown. "Yes, that's… That would be lovely."

Jake scans the gang again. "Doc Maybelline?"

Sean sighs, leaning against the recliner. Raj offers him a bowl of nachos garnished with bacon and cheese, to which the football star declines politely. "She hasn't exactly left the hospital since yesterday. Northbridge citizens have been in and out lately with the superheroes versus super villains casualties."

"She said she'll try to come as soon as she can after her shift." Quinn says with a smile. On her lap was Furball, munching on a nacho and leaving crumbs on the redhead's shorts. "It's been really hectic for her."

"Yeah man, Northbridge is always on the news! That Talos guy sure is a cool hero," Craig says with a grin. "Then there's Minuet and Diamante, and they're really kickin' some ass lately too!"

"These heroes you mention, they are the ones with bronze for a body, a masked woman in gray, and another woman with a red cape?" Varyyn inquires, a curious gleam in his bright yellow eyes. Diego had him dressed in a comfortable hoodie and sweat pants for the season.

"Yes, my man, yes." Craig says proudly, fishing out his phone and showing some digitally made artworks, albeit seeming like drafts, for the Elyyshar. "Our team is planning to make a video game out of the Northbridge heroes and I am so pumped!"

"But the more superheroes come forward, the more villains pop out too." Diego says, putting three teaspoons of sugar into his cream-colored coffee. "Northbridge's reconstruction of buildings is non-stop, and a survey from their Mayor's office says that half of the city wants to evacuate if this keeps up."

"Man, that sucks." Sean shakes his head. "But heroes always win, right? Maybe it's tough now, but eventually the good guys will find a way to restore peace and order. Hopefully that kind of problem with super villains don't spread out to other places."

A knock comes from the door, and almost everyone jumps at the sudden noise. It takes a moment for them to look at each other, and Craig strides to the door nervously and presses his face to the peep hole. "Yo, she's here!"

It takes another series of unlocking and clicks before Craig pulls the door open to welcome Estela, who steps in with her usual wary look. "…Good morning."

"Mornin' Estela! Coffee?" Raj bounds to her cheerfully with a mug, which Estela takes with a grateful nod.

"Er, I hope your flight proved to be alright…? Did you have any problem?" Aleister stands up, trying not to show the worry and uncertainty in his smile. He's failing.

Estela simply shakes her head and stands at the side of the sofa, mug in hand. "It went alright. Thanks." She pauses, avoiding Aleister's eyes, and finally mutters, "How's… Reggie?"

"He's chipper and healthy. You should visit him soon." Aleister answers briefly with a smile. Estela nods with small smile, although warm and eager.

Furball jumps off Quinn's lap and nuzzles against the Colombian's leg, to which she would give a small, gentle pat on its head. She tries to conceal a smile as her fingers brush against its soft fur. Everyone resumes talking as they waited for Zahra.

Jake savors the warm taste of rich black coffee. He turns to Grace from across the table, who was watching some videos of their kid on her phone.

"Missing him, eh?" He smiles.

Grace's head snaps to him, her expression surprised, but she relaxes and nods proudly. "Mom's taking care of him while we're here… It's something of an apology from her, but she's actually really fond of her grandchild. Reginald's been a handful, but that's okay. He's happy, we're happy, and I think that all that matters."

"Good to hear that," Jake says briefly, sipping from his mug. He takes a few seconds before sucking in air sharply. "You… mentioned about the Prism Gate being in Northbridge. How far is that place from here?"

"It's an hour drive to the west of Hartfeld. It's a pretty big city, and as you may hear…" She looks at the rest of the gang, with Craig surveying who was their favorite hero. "It's been unsafe and alarming. Over the course of five months, a lot of casualties and superhero conflicts had happened. It was tough for the PI to investigate."

"Yeah, that… Anything you might wanna share? Brief us or something."

The group falls silent as Grace takes a minute to organize her thoughts. "The PI shared some interesting matters over the last five months. When Craig asked last time if the Prism Gate is any way connected to the superheroes, I said yes. The initial discovery was that all the super humans so far had a trace of the crystal's particles in their bloodstream."

Craig whistled. "Daaaaaaamn."

"Additionally, Silas produced a liquified version of the crystals which he called the Liquid Prism. The news says these things have been stolen and passed on from criminal to criminal, and with the rising rates of supervillains, the conclusion is that these Liquid Prism have been consumed to produce such an army."

Varyyn appears surprised. "This is… the potential of Vaanu's crystals have more to offer than what we know. Such power was not discovered by anyone in the Vaanti."

"We don't know for sure if these crystals have been harnessed differently by the Prescott Industries to have this kind of effect on humans." Grace says. "They've been studying these for 25 years. Maybe we'll get some answers once Zahra gets access on the files."

"This is why Silas Prescott has likely increased security in his properties." Aleister continues. His hand intertwines with Grace's, thumb gently grazing over her skin. "The rampant rate of super villains grows day by day, and stronger. Who knows which mastermind would get their hands on the Liquid Prism next if he would not secure them."

The discussion is interrupted as a disheveled Zahra throws open the door of her office. She doesn't say anything. Her eyes are wide, looking at everyone gathered.

Craig jogs to her side. "Z? You okay?"

"God, and I thought we were doing something illegal." Zahra shakes her head. "Guys, you have to see this."

[txkemeanywhere]

Surviving Five Nights - Custom Night

Tag list: @undocumented-terriaki

Fancy way of saying epilogue

There’s a final click and Rowan feels something spark up within him before Yan takes their hands out the droid’s back panel.

“That should do it. Give me a song.” they ask, their voice a little smug.

“Screw that.” Rowan reaches for his throat as he finally hears his voice. It’s taken a while but with a little help from Google, they’ve finally managed to hook Rowan’s voice box back up and the crazy gesturing and many failed attempts to communicate are done with.

“Well the silence was nice while it lasted.” Yan laughs as they pack away the tools they’d managed to pick up. Very useful but hopefully they won’t have to use them again anytime soon.

“You’re just mad that I can talk back now.” Rowan smirks as he puts his shirt back on. Being silent has not been even remotely golden. It’s been hell.

“I don’t think I’ll notice a difference to be honest.” Yan teases. Rowan picks up the nearest take out menu and flicks it at the ass.

Yan is about to strike back when Rowan’s phone starts ringing, loud, shrill, and very hard to ignore. Caller ID says the number is ‘unknown’ but they’ve been sharing the number around, asking people to call if they think of any odd jobs they need doing. Well they need to get money from somewhere.

Clicking answer, Rowan puts the call on speaker. “You got Rowan.”

"Oh goodie.” The sly, smooth voice that comes through the speaker makes them both freeze in place. It’s been weeks but that voice is unmistakable. “I was worried for a moment there.”

Yan mouths ‘the fuck’ at Rowan who just shakes his head as he speaks. “How are you still-?”

“Among the living? Well obviously I didn’t die in that fire. No thanks to your little one-man fan club.” the bitterness in his voice crackles along the line. Clearly whatever Yan did in that restaurant sits badly with him.

“Hey!” Yan scowls. Rowan hisses at Yan to be quiet as Lucas laughs in response.

“So, to show you just how grateful I am, I put in a call to Cyberlife.” Rowan’s eyes go wide but it’s obvious by the confusion on Yan’s face that they don’t have a clue what that means at this point. “They seemed very interested in locating a lost deviant.”

Wrapping his free arm around his chest, Rowan shakes his head in disbelief. “They won’t find us.”

“Well they wouldn’t.....if I hadn’t turned your tracker back on while I was poking around in there.”

Rowan takes a sharp synthetic breath and tries very hard not to panic. Yan mouths ‘what’ at him, clearly panicked but not fully understanding the deep level of shit they’re currently in.

On the other end of the line, Lucas’s laughter devolves into coughs. When he stops he adds “Oh and I may have mentioned that I last saw you in the possession of an attempted murderer. So bonne chance!”

And the line goes dead.

Before either of them have a chance to react, Rowan throws the phone, full force at the wall. It doesn’t break but the glass on the screen cracks and the phone drops to the floor.

Yan steps forward. “We’re gonna be okay.”

Rowan points to the only door that doesn’t lead outside. “Get in the bathroom.”

“In the-?! Rowan now really isn’t the time to-”

“Get in the bathroom! NOW!” Rowan grabs Yan’s arm and drags them towards the strange smelling small washroom attached to their motel room. Before they can really protest, he shoves them in there, slamming the door and moving a nearby chair to jam the door closed.

There are shouts from the other side of the door, which starts to shake but Rowan doesn’t respond. There’s no point. There’s no time. Maybe if they’re preoccupied with the droid, they won’t go looking for Yan.

That bathroom door is a hardy construct and the silence from the other side of the door has only made Yan that more determined to beat it down. The first full foot smash shakes the door but it stays in place, the second forces it to buckle, but the third one just smashes through the door, Yan forcing their way through.

They don’t even stop in the motel room, knowing they won’t find him there, rushing past the other rooms down towards the main reception area. As they go, they call for the droid and the silence that comes back just angers and infuriates them more.

It’s not until they reach the parking lot and they see Rowan being carried by some stranger, led by another stranger, walking towards a Cyberlife car. They’ve got him!

Yan doesn’t think, sprinting across the parking lot, tackling the one holding Rowan, knocking the droid from their arms and giving a swift kick to knock the other’s feet out from under him. A swift punch or two and they’re both out cold. Just like Rowan.

They need to get out of there and, careful not to disturb him too much Yan carries Rowan over to their car, rushing back to the room to quickly grab the one bag they’d got into the room before slamming the door closed and tearing out the lot before the two would-be kidnappers even wake up.

Once they hit the freeway, Yan glances across to the still unconscious droid he’d bundled into the back seat.

“Rowan? Rowan can you hear me?” they call.

They watch as Rowan boots up, an eerie and unnatural experience, the stillness slowly evolving into movement that they watch through the rear view mirror. When he sits up, the droid catches sight of Yan in the mirror and freezes, staring at Yan.

“Are you okay?” They ask, still looking but there’s something off about the look Rowan is giving them right now. There’s no life to them. For the first time since they met, Yan feels like they’re looking at a robot. “...Rowan?”

The droid tilts his head at Yan in confusion “Is that the name you wish to register for me?”

“.....what?”

.....Rowan and Yan will return....