Chapter Text
Sam and Max always got the most absurd of cases. Ones that were almost laughably cartoonish, ones that regular police just didn’t want to touch with a ten-foot pole. You name it, they’ve probably dealt with it. Whether the Commissioner called them for their services or the two just got dragged into a mess of oddity, they had some unique stories. Rat gangs trafficking circus peanuts from the circus in town, tracking down a bigfoot all across the entire United States, even dealing with so-called moon people and their own issues. That is all to say, Sam and Max, Freelance Police were kings of the nonsensical. It was quite their department, so to speak. So when the pair were asked to see what they could make of an up-and-coming serial killer, it was a shock that anybody had even considered passing the idea to them. Of course, they weren’t the only ones on the case, NYPD and the FBI each had a hand in this mess too. They must have been desperate to ask for help from them. Nonetheless, they agreed to give it a shot.
Surprising or not, this wasn’t the first ‘serious’ case they had handled. Break-ins, Hostage situations, and yes, even a stray nutty murderer or two. But a serial killer ? Safe to say that they were woefully underprepared and in over their heads on this. Of course, they were given some confidential documents on the man- or woman. Even then, the information was sparse. No real facial description, a height and build at least, but past the details of the morbid crime scenes… There wasn’t much to go off of.
The pair bickered over where to even start. There were a few leads, but as Sam figured, the police detectives would be exhausting those leads. Not that he was one to particularly trust their work of being ‘thorough’. It was more of the principle of not wanting to run into those irritable boneheads. They weren’t particularly fond of their little duo, infamous as they are.
“I dunno, Sam, it might be a good idea to look at those leads before making our own, right? Maybe we could get a jump-start on the NYPD and shake the information we need before even they do!”
Max was awfully optimistic, his head leaned back from his chair at his little desk, tossing pencils upward to get stuck into the soft tile of the ceilings. He was grinning, not paying too much attention to the nitty-gritty of the case. Sam just shook his head.
“Gotta say I don’t think that’ll be possible, Max. This guy is-”
“A deplorable, reprobate, no-good scoundrel?”
“Well yes, that too. But what I meant is that he’s prominent. They’re gonna be chasing those leads early tomorrow if they haven’t already tonight.”
Max tilted his head forward to place a pondering paw to his cheek, brows furrowed as he thought for another solution. Admittedly, he always looked adorable like that. It wasn’t often that Max thought on an idea any harder than a solid five seconds. His little buddy was rather impulsive in that respect. Max grunted in frustration, his ears folding back. Not from the case, Sam noted, but from one of the ceiling pencils getting revenge with gravity, landing atop his pretty little head. Sam couldn’t help but smile and chuckle at the scene, getting a bit of a glare as Max tossed the assaulting pencil somewhere else in the office to be tripped over later.
“Okay, well what else do we have to work with then, wise guy?”
“Admittedly, not much. The perp doesn’t have much of a description it looks like. The crime scenes were pretty clean when it comes to clues it looks like…”
Sam was squinting at the papers he held idly in a hand, reading over the details for what seemed like the hundredth time this hour. His other hand was pressed to his forehead and temple, trying to ease the absolute headache of this case.
“Okay, hold on.” Max started, raising a brow. “ Clean? The guy makes a bloodbath of his victims and you’re gonna call that… Clean? ”
Sam sighed, setting down the papers from his hands back down onto the desk. He could see the irony of his words now that Max had pointed it out. Then again, just looking at those crime scene photos was enough to make his stomach turn. Suppose he did have a point.
“Alright, alright, not clean, just... “ He squinted, wracking his brain for a better word to describe this. “It’s… Deliberate. Calculated… Premeditated...” He continued muttering under his breath while searching for the right word. He perked and snapped his fingers.
“Meticulous!”
Sam couldn’t help but smile, at least a bit of pride in himself for finding something as simple as a better descriptor. There was a wry little smirked and laugh that left the lagomorph next to him.
“I’m sure this guy will be, uh, stupified by your big words there. That’ll really get ‘em.”
That only made Sam sigh, pressing his hand into his face and snout in frustration. His shard of pride leaving him as easily as it came. Max knew how to get on his nerves when he wanted to.
“You were just complaining about my choice of words not even a minute ago.”
“Sure, doesn’t make you any less of a thesaurus dweeb, though.” There was a little pause as Max reveled in his annoying capabilities before looking over to the fragmented dartboard pinned to the far wall. “But... How do you suppose the perp was able to carry out such brutal murders without alerting anybody around? ‘S what I don’t get.”
Sam was about to bicker back with his partner, but he stopped once he continued. That did seem to be the kicker to this case. Always a brutal bloodied scene where the victim was found, typically somewhere just away from the main path down an alleyway or nearby abandoned building. It started in the worse areas of Manhattan and crept into more brazen areas that were much more populated. Places passersby would surely have been able to hear them cry or scream for help. The scenes were always too brutal to think anyone could stay silent. It was obvious in most of the victims that they put up a fight for their lives too. It was horrible to think about, to even imagine anyone having those sorts of last moments. The question just hung in the air as the clock on the far wall ticked on with the passage of time. Not to mention the target victims the killer chose. They knew about that before they even got handed the case.
High schoolers. Girls, at that. Disappearing on their way to or from school only to be found a bloody mess of unrecognizable meat. It made Sam want to vomit just at the thought. Because, after all-
“Are you guys coming down for dinner? It’s seven o’clock you know.”
That
was what scared Sam. He didn’t want his daughter anywhere near this case.
The girl had poked her head into the office, looking between the two quizzically. Mae, the pair’s adopted daughter who was a strange adventure all in herself. She just entered high school that year, but that baby-faced look to her made you swore she was still a middle schooler. She had an odd affinity for being able to help the duo when they were
really
stuck. Her insight was almost always correct. She was a smart girl, after all.
“Oh-” Sam jolted his head over to look at the clock, and sure enough she was right. “Sorry pup, guess we got wrapped up in … Things.”
He gave Mae a nervous smile, just praying she’d buy that explanation. She was smart. Possibly too smart for her own good, and Sam came to find he was a horrible liar to the people he really loved. She raised a brow, seemingly picking up on the not-quite-lie Sam laid down.
“Awh shoot,” Max slapped a paw to his cheek. “I can cook something up, didn’t even notice the time...”
“Oh, don’t worry about it! I made dinner this time. Tacos, uh, what’d home ec call it… Fajita tacos?” She was talking to herself a bit towards the end, catching herself and clearing her throat. “I taste-tested it don’t worry! It’s not burned or anything.”
“Y’know it’s nice and all that you did, but just remind me next time! You don’t need to be worrying about making us food. Though it is sweet.” It was obvious that Max’s motherly instincts kicked in on that. The little guy really could be a terrifying mama bear when he wanted to be.
“Really, so long as it isn’t Sam’s cooking I think we’ll all live. The fire department must really hate us. Or Sam, specifically.” Sam shot Max an irritable look from the corner of his eye. He was right, but he always had to rub his nose in it. Mae just smiled, shaking her head, turning to head to the first floor where the apartment area was.
“Whatever, just get downstairs before everything gets cold! I haven’t seen you guys all day!”
Her voice and footsteps faded down the stairs, and Sam looked back to his partner, seeing him smile that toothy grin. He always looked so proud of her, not that Sam could blame him, he was too. The pair had found her as a toddler, disheveled and very terrified in an alleyway. Naturally, they took her home and tried to find any lead to her biological family. Max’s sister had helped, but in the end, they couldn’t even find her birth fingerprints or records that she was ever born at all. She had a horrible temper and threw constant tantrums. Even Max was to the end of his thin patience, but they both refused to hand her off to someone else. They were too attached at that point. They knew then that she was their daughter, and they wouldn’t be dissuaded by a little girl with a temper. They had dealt with worse, naturally. Mae was tame in comparison.
“Max?”
“Yeah?”
“Let’s not bring up this case to Mae. I don’t want her getting hurt.”
“I figured you’d say something like that. Likewise, of course.”
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It didn’t take long for the little family to gather up at the dinner table to eat and talk together. Sam and Max were almost always preoccupied with waiting for or solving cases. Not to mention the cases that forced their hand to have Mama Bosco or Sybil babysit Mae on cases that had them travel about. Mae always seemed wrapped up in school or her hobbies that when they weren’t busy, it was Mae who was preoccupied. But breakfasts and dinners were something they always stayed together for, and it wasn’t often that they’d sacrifice it for anything else.
Despite not being very experienced, Mae’s cooking was true to her word. It wasn’t bad. Nothing Ratatouie-level, but average. Well, maybe a bit overkill on the spices for Sam’s taste, but seeing as his own cooking usually resulted in charcoal and his own singed fur, he was not one to complain. Max seemed content himself, not even bothering with a plate, eating his own messily constructed taco from his paw dirtied from food.
“So… What’s the case that’s got you both so distracted that y’forgot food? ”
Sam was a bit audibly taken aback, briefly choking on the food in his mouth.
“The ones that give us a headache’s worth of paperwork. Commissioner’s been up our- okay, Sam’s ass about finishing them by the end of the week. Think nothing of it!’
“Okay… That explains Pops, but you still aren’t off the hook, Mom.”
“Well if my nosey daughter must know, I was actually helping.” There was no malice to either of their tones. It was just how they all bantered with each other. An unfortunate habit Mae picked up from the two. She just raised an eyebrow as she took another bite of food. Staying silent enough that she might’ve dropped the subject, but when her mouth was empty, she was right back to interrogating Max.
“I don’t buy that for a second. But I won’t press on it. Donno when we started keeping secrets from each other, though.” Mae was pouting, prodding the two into guilt that might get one of them to spill. She was a normal moody teenager after all.
“ Actually, ” Max began to speak. Sam immediately shot him a look, hoping to dissuade him from what he was sure he was about to say.
“I think that started all the way when we adopted you. Y’never gave us the slightest clue t’what happened before we found you. Even when you grew up you only got mad at us when-”
“ Max. ”
He stopped dead in his tracks hearing Sam’s voice. Max’s tone wasn’t accusatory or angry, just very matter-of-fact. Smug, even with that smirk of his. Only when Sam spoke up did he seem to have the epiphany that he probably just sounded cruel bringing it up. There was a guilty look on his face for a moment before he rushed to fix his mistake.
“Okay, what I mean is, you have a reason you don’t want to tell us, right? We got our reason too. It’s just a confidential case, all that bureaucracy crap of not being able to talk about it.” He paused, looking more closely at Mae’s face. Her expression was scrunched in frustration, and it was overtly clear she was rightfully upset and annoyed. Max frowned, this was his fault. “I’m sorry, I shouldn't have made a smart comment about that. Just got way too deep in bantering and I went too far.”
Mae was quiet for a few beats more, closing her eyes with furrowed brows like she mulled the apology over. The air was tense, and Sam had half a mind to speak up himself, but he decided against it. Mae wasn’t exactly pretty in her outbursts and he didn’t want to chance anything with his poor wording skills. Opening her amber eyes, she just took another bite of her food before changing the subject.
“Everybody at school won’t shut up about some crazy dude on a murder spree. I thought it was some urban legend or some bullshit-”
“ Language, ” Sam jumped in, softly yet firmly chiding her.
“Some... Boloney story that other kids made up. But they handed me a newspaper about it. I guess there’s rumors about upping security for the bus routes and stuff. A curfew too, maybe.”
“Not to be completely alarmed, but how come you don’t sound all that bothered?” Sam raised a brow.
Mae shrugged. “Because we don’t gotta worry about it?”
As blissfully ignorant to danger that Sam and Max might be, the sound of that effect rubbing off on Mae really rubbed Sam the wrong way. “Mae, sweetheart, I’ve gotta be honest you’re a perfect target profile of that psycho. Can’t you promise to be a little careful or-”
“I’VE GOT IT!” Max shouted, grinning wide. “Let’s drive her to school in the Desoto! Keep our little bundle of joy safe!” Sam noted that actually was a decent idea.
“Uh-uh. Not on my grave, no way . Not happening.” She was quick to shoot down the idea. “Look, what I meant is that there’s a pattern. The guy’s going North with the attacks. Northride, Riverview, then Somerset high schools. They’re going north. We’re south.” There was a pause long enough for Sam to open his mouth to retort, but she began again. “And even if I am his perfect victim, there’s gonna be added security and tension on my bus right? People are gonna notice if something fishy is going on, it'd be stupid to go after me."
"Mae…" Sam sighed. "Alright, I'll humor you. The guy's going north. What happens if he deviates? Gets sloppy or more brazen? What if he wants to lure a girl like you away from a bus full of security guards just to-" He couldn't say it. There was that audible hesitation. "What then?" Sam kept a stern look while looking at Mae. He couldn't help the hint of softness to it. He tried to crack a smile to her after a while.
"Come on. Let your two crazy dads drive you to school, just until this is all over. At least to make us feel better that you're safe?"
"Whaaat, are you at that teenage stage that you're embarrassed to be seen with us or something?" Max was beaming, his hands holding his cheeks as his elbows leaned on the table.
"I may as well be." Mae deadpanned. "Nobody at school knows my parents are the Freelance Police and I don't really think I want the attention I'm going to get for it."
"Ouch." Sam winced. He knew there was going to be a time when Mae got embarrassed over the two just for being her parents, but… Well in all honesty it made Sam long for the times Mae would fall asleep curled up next to him when she was younger. Always wanting to be close to him or Max.
"Tough tits, sweetie. We're taking you to school tomorrow. Just say we're your noble shofers. Knights in shining armor!" Max was halfway in some dramatic pose when Sam huffed back.
"There's much less crude ways to say that to our daughter, Max."
Mae just sighed, pressing a hand into her face. Tomorrow was going to be an utter nightmare.