excitement is our meat

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when are all of us not deep in the #francyfeels, am i right

my personal headcanon is that it was frank’s idea to jump from the train to go after nancy at the end of TRN and that this was joe’s MOMENT of epiphany that his brother is completely head over heels for nancy...... which is a moment that i love imagining so much that i accidentally blurbed about it.......

“Hey,” whispers Joe, tugging on Frank’s sleeve. “Didn’t that seem a bit fishy to you?”

“What do you mean?”

“It was like the train stopped for no reason,” Joe says. He eyebrows pull together. “I thought this was gonna be it, you know? That we made it to the mine? The timing would’ve been right.”

He helps himself to the pocket of Frank’s vest, pulling out their map and unfolding it. “Look,” Joe says, pointing at the route. They’ve been tracking their trip up until now, but— “Didn’t Nancy say Brimstone Canyon?”

“Yeah, she did.” Frank’s mind starts tornadoing. Joe’s right; the timing would’ve been as expected for their destination.

Unless, of course, that was never going to be their destination. Not for most of them, anyway.

Joe scratches the back of his neck. “I kinda thought Lori was gonna brief everybody, tell us all we made it.”

Frank squeezes Joe’s elbow. “Joe,” he says. “Where’s Lori?” Something more urgent yanks at him. “Where’s Nancy?”

“Wha—you don’t think they’re exploring that mine without us, do you?”

“I don’t know. Something’s off here.” The train is picking up speed, chugging along the tracks with less and less friction. If they just passed Brimstone Canyon, and if Frank’s growing suspicions are correct, they don’t have any time to waste here. “We have to stop this train.”

Joe huffs. “How? That conductor’s about as friendly as a porcupine. There’s no way he’s going to listen to us!”

The natural disaster in Frank’s mind is picking up speed too. Logic and gut feelings and impatience and detective instincts have turned into flying shrapnel, crashing into each other. Frank feels a headache creeping in as the blood rushes his ears.

“Then there’s only one solution,” Frank says, already on the move. “We have to jump off the train.”

“Are you nuts?!” Joe shouts, but he hurries to keep up with Frank anyway. “Why don’t we just tell Detective Peabrain over there to do it?”

“You think Detective Peabrain is smart enough to figure this all out?” Frank shouts right back. “We can’t trust that guy to do anything but get the right PR shot. Nancy’s in danger, and we have to do something about it!”

The train is getting faster still. By the time they reach the front compartment, the quick chug-chug-chug of the wheels matches the pounding in Frank’s head. God, why didn’t he realize this sooner? If Lori was clever enough to stage her own kidnapping in order to suss out the best investigator of their group, of course she could be clever enough to use that investigator for her own gain. An investigator who might now really be in serious danger.

Frank shoves open the exit door, the wind nearly whipping it off its hinges. The train is racing down the tracks, definitely too fast to safely jump from. The scenery whizzes by in a blur. Frank gulps in a deep breath.

Joe seizes him by the arm before he can go any further. “We really doing this?” His eyes are wide, but he’s on the verge of a smile. Frank should’ve known that Joe can never turn down a dangerous, potentially stupid stunt. It makes for the best stories. “We’re seriously about to jump off a moving train?”

Frank doesn’t need that recap. All he can coherently focus on right now is Nancy, possibly being lured into some kind of lion’s den. He nods, his resolve set. “It’s our only choice,” he says. “Come on!”

He leaps before fear and common sense can overtake him. For one brief second, before he’s hit by the velocity of the whipping wind, this feels like a good idea, daring in its genius. At least up until Frank hits the dirt like a bad belly-flop to a cold swimming pool, every bone feeling the brunt of that plan, and instantly starts rolling—tumbling?—away from the train. Joe hits the ground next to him with an <I>oomph</I>, neatly cutting off his “Geronimo” battle cry.

Frank sits up, patting himself down to check for broken bones. Panting, Joe does the same. They both seem a little shaken, but still in one piece.

“I think that goes down as the craziest thing we’ve ever done,” Joe says. He turns to Frank, wondrous. “Actually, that’s the craziest thing you’ve ever suggested we do. Where on earth did that even come from?”

The awe in his expression as he looks at Frank seems to change, morphing into something different. Almost like a newfound revelation is slowly crawling up Joe’s leg. Frank goes hot around the ears without meaning to, roughly looking away. He’s not liking what he sees in Joe’s eyes.

“Hey,” Joe starts to say.

“Don’t tell mom about this,” Frank interrupts. He gets to his feet, ears still burning. He points down the tracks as the train heads in the opposite direction. “Come on. Brimstone Canyon should be that way.” 

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