Authors Note: Okay, so before you read this I'd just like to say that this idea has been on my mind for a while now, I've just never gotten it down in words, I've thought over the aspects for a while and have imagined it in many different ways, but I will be going for one of the simplest ways.

It is based on the song Airplanes by B.O.B featuring Hayley Williams (yes I know Eminem was involved in part 2 but hey, I prefer part one if I'm honest ;])

Please review to tell me what you think :)

Fred slumped into the corner, his head in his hands as he positioned himself on the cold, concrete floor. They were on yet another mystery, one that had gotten a little out of hand, and, it seemed that Mystery Inc. had finally bitten off more than they could chew.

At this point, he found himself locked in the basement of a homicidal maniac disguised as some kind of a knife wielding phantom. They'd been on the case for a few days now, but still hadn't found anything relevant to the identity of the criminal. Nothing was going right, well at least not for Mystery Inc, for the phantom things had been going pretty well. For one, he had Fred Jones, the leader of Mystery Inc. for a hostage. Secondly, he had already successfully injured Velma Dinkley, the apparent 'brains' of the operation, leaving her breathing through a tube in intensive care. Thirdly, a Miss Daphne Blake, had just fallen through a trap door, and into the clutches of the sadistic spirit.

Dragging her down the stairs to the basement like a worthless rag doll, the phantom laughed maniacally before unlocking the thick oak door and carelessly tossing her inside. Quick on her heel she turned around only to have the door slammed into her blood splattered face.

Springing to his feet, Fred raced to Daphne's side, gripping her by the shoulders. He pulled her so she was facing him and gasped when he saw the bright crimson against her porcelain skin. "D-Daph, wh-what... a-are you hurt!" Fred cried, finding it hard to speak from the lump in his throat.

"A-a little." She replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

"A little!" Fred gasped, "Daph you're covered in blood!" He searched her face for a response, but she just stood there silently as her reddened eyes welled up. There was something not right about her eyes, the sparkle Fred had once admired so much had disappeared, and in its place were tears. Her skin had lost its healthy glow and was now cold and pale, with a soft greyish tint.

"It isn't my blood..." She answered at last, he voice trembling and she stared into space.

"Whose blood is it Daph?" Fred asked slowly, bending down to look her in the eyes, "Whose blood is it!" She shut her eyes, attempting to stop the tears from falling, but somehow, they managed to escape. Her lip quivered as she opened her mouth to speak, but had to clamp it shut to stop the sobs from freeing themselves. So she stood still, whimpering as tears trickled down her cheeks, streaking the blood splattered across them. "Daphne!" Fred cried once more, shaking her by the shoulders harshly.

"Mrs. Johnson's!" Daphne chocked, throwing herself against Fred's muscular chest. "Freddie, he got her, he got her and he stabbed her, he- he wouldn't stop!" She sobbed, tugging at Fred's jumper. "H-he just wouldn't stop Freddie, he stabbed her so many times and laughed at her as she begged him to stop, I...I..." Daphne couldn't bear to say any more, instead she buried her face in closer to Fred and continued to cry uncontrollably.

The lump in Fred's throat grew as stroked Daphne's hair gently, holding her close to him. He thought about Mrs. Johnson, and what had happened. She was the one who called them, asking for their help, and now she was gone, all because they didn't solve the case in time. She was a frail old woman who had lived on her own since her husbands death, but now it appeared he had returned. He felt tears roll down his face, 'Gosh, that poor woman, killed by someone impersonating her dead husband, must have been heartbreaking for her...' He thought.

Daphne's cry had now turned into a soft whimper as she clung to him, her whole body shaking, not from the low temperature of the basement, but from the disturbing image which would forever be burned into her mind. Fred carefully picked scooped her up in his arms and carried her over to the corner beneath their only source of light; a small window about seven foot up, just above ground level. Of course, this had no use other than providing them with the dim moonlight, as it was too small for even a child to climb through, never mind two fully grown adults.

They didn't know how long they stayed seated n the deafening silence, but it seemed like an eternity. As the silence became too much, Fred spoke up. "Hey Daph, look," Daphne raised her head from his chest to see him pointing at the small window, "It's a shooting star, remember when we used to make wishes on those?"

Smiling weakly Daphne nodded at the memory of the whole gang lay out on the Coolsville moors late at night, just watching the stars. "Yeah...But that just a plane Freddie, no chance of a wish when we need it the most." She sighed.

Holding her tight he looked down at her, "Can't we just pretend?" He said, his voice soft.

"We're not kids any more Freddie," Daphne said sadly, looking up at the blonde man, "You know just as much as I do that we can't afford to play games any more..."

Fred stared at the red head, her eyes were now closed as she bit her lip, fighting back the tears. "I wish we could go back, back to when everything was so simple, so straight forward..." Fred said distantly.

"That's what I'd wish for if I had the chance." Daphne whispered softly. "Back to a time when no one wanted to us to solve mysteries for them."

"And when we did find one, it all just seemed to solve itself..." Fred added, resting his head on top of Daphne's.

"Yeah..." She smiled, "Back when nobody knew who we were, back when we solved mysteries for the fun of it, not for the money, or the fame, and no one's life depended on it..."

Fred now found it hard to swallow, he sniffed up and began to speak again, "Now it's just a job, honestly, I don't enjoy it at all any more."

"Me either..." Daphne said softly, "We're in way over our heads."

"And we're in too deep to get out..."

"If we ever get out of this, then I'm never getting involved in a case again." Daphne sighed.

"I wish it was that simple," Fred grimaced, "We've made too many enemies Daph, you remember Scrappy," Fred paused as Daphne cringed at the memory of the psychotic little puppy, "And Jonathan Jacobo. Face it Daph, there's always going to be people like them out to get us, whether we're still solving mysteries or not."

"I guess you're right..." Daphne muttered, "And not just that, but so many people depend on us now, I don't think I could handle letting so many people down." Fred felt Daphne shudder, as she nestled in even closer.

"Just think Daph, this is the life we always wanted, we always wanted to be professionals, just solving mysteries for a living, and now look at us, wishing we didn't even start."

"And the phrase 'be careful what you wish for' comes to mind." Daphne groaned.

Fred chuckled softly, "How ironic."

"Everything's ironic when it comes to us."

An awkward silence filled the room as both reflected upon their lives so far, it was everything they had ever dreamed about as carefree teenagers, but with an extra sadistic twist. It has started out so well, and now, Mystery Inc. were stuck in a rut, unable to find a way out without letting so many people down.

"Do you think we'll get out of this one?" Daphne said quietly.

Fred looked at her, lost for words. He wanted to give her hope, but he couldn't bear to lie to her so blatantly, "I...I...don't think so Daphne."

"Me either." Daphne said simply. She seemed calm even though they were possibly going to be killed any time soon, but Fred could still tell she was scared and just trying to put on a brave face.

"At least I get to spend my possible last moments with you." Fred said softly, pulling her onto his lap.

"I couldn't have asked for more." Daphne said, a small smile playing on her lips.

Fred sat with Daphne on his knee for a while, just holding her close to him as he listened to her soft breathing, that is until a scraping noise was heard at the door.

Holding onto Daphne protectively, Fred rose to his feet, pulling Daphne up with him. Her body tensed as she clung to Fred, her breathing ragged.

The large oak door creaked open, revealing two silhouettes. Unable to look, Daphne pressed her face into Fred chest, fresh tears dampening his jumper.

"Like, Fred?" Called a timid voice.

"Raphne?" Called another.

Looking at each other and then at the pair by the door, Fred and Daphne grinned and ran towards them.

A couple of hours later, after a conversation with he police and medics, the gang, minus Velma, were back in the Mystery Machine. They were heading to the hospital, to see if their close Friend had made any signs or recovery. Shaggy and Scooby had fallen asleep in the back of the van, sprwaled across the shag carpeting. Daphne sat beside Fred in the front, her hand delicately placed on his arm. Fred looked down at her and smiled softly; she was staring out of the window at the stars.

"Looking for a shooting star Daphne?" He asked, comfortingly placing his arm around her shoulders, pulling her a little closer.

"Yeah..." She said distantly, her eyes remaining glued to the night sky "I could really use a wish right now..."