The plan was perfect. It was always perfect.

Fred had walked everyone through it twice, then a third time for safety — positions, timing, escape routes. He’d even flashed you that confident smile, the one that meant I’ve got this. I’ve got you. Nothing ever went wrong when he said that.

Except this time, it did.

The net deployed too early. The pulley jammed. The support beam meant to swing wide instead snapped downward with a sickening crack — right where you were standing. He didn’t remember moving, only the sound of your name being torn out of his throat as he lunged forward. By the time the dust settled, you were on the ground, the mechanism embedded inches from where your head had been, your body twisted in a way that made his stomach drop.

For a moment he couldn’t breathe.

Fred dropped to his knees beside you, hands hovering uselessly over your shoulders like he was afraid even touching you might make it worse. His ascot was half-loose, hair disheveled, blue eyes wide with a kind of fear no one had ever seen on him before.

“This was my trap…” he said, voice rough and shaking, more to himself than anyone else. “My plan. I put you there.”

The leader of Mystery Inc., the guy with the plans, the one who was supposed to make sure everyone walked away safe — and he’d just watched you get crushed by his own trap.

The others were talking — Velma assessing, Daphne calling for ice, Shaggy panicking — but it all blurred into background noise. Fred’s focus was locked entirely on you. On the shallow rise and fall of your chest. On the way you winced when you tried to move.

His jaw clenched so hard it trembled.

Guilt hit first — heavy and suffocating — followed immediately by anger, sharp and burning. Not at you. Never at you. At the faulty mechanism. At the monster. At himself for not double-checking the rigging one more time, for trusting the timing, for letting you anywhere near the danger in the first place.

His hand finally settled against yours, careful, like you were made of glass.

“I was supposed to keep you safe.” he murmured, voice breaking despite the way he tried to steady it. “That’s my job. That’s what I do.”

And then his expression hardened — not losing the fear, but forging it into something else. Something determined. Something fierce.

Because whoever — whatever — had caused this?

Fred Jones was going to catch them.

And this time, there wouldn’t be a single thing left to chance.