Hey y'all. This is a drabble of a story largely based off of the episodes leading up to "The Thing About Heroes" and also… kind of inspired by Smuffly's awesome approach to the whole idea with her challenge, "A Piece of the Puzzle." Those two things encouraged me to take a second look in to all of this and the whole freaked out feeling I get when I think of that particular episode and the events leading up to it…

And… obviously, if you're reading this… I decided to post it… You all know the disclaimers, blah… blah… blah…. And I also want to note… I didn't know if I'd post this in the first place, hence my little interjected sentence above… Also a little note… I should've watched the episode I'm talking about beforehand, but I didn't so… it's my fault if I got anything wrong. And if anyone could remember what that third card was? I'd be grateful. (You'll see what I mean… promise.)

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I'd been feeling extremely thrown off my game for some reason or another rather recently. In the back of my mind, I knew exactly why I felt that way and instincts told me there was storm clouds gathered on the horizon, and that I should brace myself for a severe storm even though the weatherman predicted decent weather in the coming days for the city.

What was the icing on the cake for me were the strange events I encountered with Stella on one particular case. I couldn't get that night in Chicago off my mind and honestly, the image of Jimmy pulling the trigger on Bobby Toole flashed through my mind before the strange woman behind the counter grabbed my hand. The nightmares had started again and I found myself waking up earlier and earlier, breathing hard with my heart pounding fast in my chest like I'd been running and screaming at the top of my lungs for what seemed like hours.

I felt my heart jump to my throat and my gaze snapped to her. Her actions brought me to full attention.

She was a fortune teller of sorts, reading the cards she pulled off to me. My gaze fell to the counter and the three cards she laid in front of me. For some reason, I hadn't tried to pull my wrist free of her firm grasp.

The cards lain before me sent my head spinning. I noticed two in particular: the devil and the hanged man.

Numbers and words danced in front of my mind's eyes and I once again felt lightheaded from the image of that damned revolver in the drawer and I clearly made out Jimmy yelling, "Pick it up, Mac! Shoot him, shoot him!"

It took me a few moments to realize Stella had taken a protective hold of my arm and the woman had let go of my wrist. With that realized, I slowly returned my hand to my side and my gaze locked with that of the woman's for a brief moment before I looked back at Stella, who looked alarmed as if she was trying to figure out what the hell had just happened. For me, it was a sickening feeling in the pit of my stomach that told me something bad was indeed setting up to happen with all of this.

Even as I turned to follow Stella to the back, those two cards were staining a permanent image in my mind and I cursed myself for letting this strangeness derail my focus so easily.

More derailed than I ever remembered being, I let Stella conduct much of the questioning as my gaze scanned the room. But I could feel my heart beating wildly in my chest and started to wonder how Stella had seemingly not noticed my uneasiness.

And then I corrected myself. Of course Stella knew. Why else would she take on the questioning without any kind of nod or notice from me? I ranked higher than her, technically speaking, and we both knew it. It's just that we chose to ignore it most of the time and worked together, sometimes me stepping down to her level or her stepping up to mine.

I had started to pay attention to the woman before us and I could've sworn I saw numbers on her eyelids.

In white writing, 333 and 666 if I was seeing correctly. I frowned. This just couldn't get any stranger.

I managed to get my eyes elsewhere before I felt the eyes of both women in the room boring in to me and I barely managed to keep myself from shifting nervously on my feet.

I pulled my phone as if to check something, and I told myself I was checking the time even though I was kind of hoping for a call to save me from this situation. On the other hand… checking the time was actually what I ended up doing anyways,

3:29 pm.

I grimaced on the inside. Usually the son of a bitch chose the morning hours to call, but that hadn't stopped him from calling in the evenings.

That stained image of the devil and hanged man cards flashed in front of my mind's eye again and I took a deep breath.

"I've gotta check on something. Can I catch up with you later?" I finally asked Stella.

She looked me up and down quickly with a concerned gaze but nodded anyways. "Sure."

"Thanks. I'll make it up to you."

And I stepped out to the front of the building again. The woman behind the counter eyed me as I stepped out the door and I couldn't help but feel like I was sweating bullets.

No sooner had I pulled my keys to my Avalanche – thank God Stella and I had drove separate on this occasion – my phone rang.

I froze on the spot, hand laid against the handle on the door and I could've sworn my blood froze again.

I got in the truck and closed the door before I pulled my phone.

Unknown Caller

333

And I stopped reading there, my eyes darting to the dashboard clock above the radio. 3:33.

"Right on time," I breathed and I laid my still ringing phone on the passenger seat, steeling my mind as much as I possibly could against the persistent ringing and images flashing before my eyes as I pulled the Avalanche out in to traffic.

I didn't know where I was going, but anywhere far from the lab would suit me just fine at the moment. I needed time, and the storm clouds on the horizon in my mind seemed to get darker the farther I pushed myself in to this stalker's game. It sent chills through my entire body to think of what could possibly be next.

To be honest, I almost didn't want to know the answer to that.