You all know the drill, don't post here unless you're username is in the title.

~Plot~
Muse A and B, former partners in crime, or rather against crime. In the past, the two worked alongside each other as partners, both of them two young police officers and each other's best friends.

However, after an incident leading to Muse A being fired, things changed drastically between the two, A blaming B for what happened.

They would go their own ways, B continuing his work within the police force, rising through the ranks and becoming a detective while A would go on to become a private investigator.

What neither of them had counted on was that they would meet again, years later.

Over the course of six months, four people had shown up murdered, all in a similar fashion and B, the detective assigned to the case, is constantly running into dead ends. When a fifth body is discovered, suspected to be yet another victim of this unknown serial killer, B is quick to rush to the scene.

At scene he's met with something he would never have expected to see though, his old partner, A, causing a scene while trying to investigate.

Due to the police being slow to come up with any leads on the killer's identity, A has been hired to investigate the murders, much to B's dismay.

What will happen when the old partners meet once more after all this time and will they get to the bottom of who the killer is and put a stop to the murders?

~Characters~

~Muse A~
Jack Witt ~ Determined_Wolf

~Muse B~
Florian Dorn ~ Roaw

~Florian Dorn~

~Nickname(s)~
Flo (Mostly just used by family and close friends)

~Age~
28 y/o

~Gender~
Male

~Sexuality~
Bisexual

~Appearance~
Florian stands at around 5’11 and has a lean body with some well-defined muscle. His skin is smooth and clear with a fair color, no tattoos or piercings. For the most part, he has minimal scarring, a couple of minor ones but the only notable one being the scar running across, roughly, half his stomach.

For the most part, Florian makes it a point to take care of his appearance, working out regularly and eating healthy, always keeping his hair looking neat and his face clean-shaven, hence why it's so obvious when the man is starting to get stressed out or overwhelmed as he then quickly drops in weight, he doesn't bother to shave down his stubble and he gets bags under his eyes almost instantly.

The man has quite a pretty face with delicate features, apart from a defined jawline, most of his facial features are very soft. His nose is on the smaller side, ever so slightly upturned. He has quite average lips, heart-shaped with the lower one being a bit fuller and larger than the top one, and whenever he smiles, his dimples on either side of his mouth become visible.

Florian has almond shaped eyes with long dark lashes decorating them. They carry a blueish grey color with specks of golden brown in them.

On the tip of his nose he has a small mole that looks a lot like something that’s been drawn on with a black sharpie, many seem to find it cute and charming but he’s never liked it, however whenever he’s tried having it removed, it has just come back. While the one on his nose is the most noticeable one, he has a couple more scattered across his body.

As said before, Florian tries to keep his hair looking neat and proper, something which proves to be quite hard as it's naturally quite thick and wavy meaning it requires regular maintenance and since he doesn't like the waves, he tends to straighten it. His hair has a medium brown color and he keeps it relatively short and in a side part, swept to the right.

When it comes to clothing, one can best describe his clothing style as business casual. You’ll most likely find him wearing a dress shirt or a turtle neck, paired with a pair of jeans or dress pants and a long coat. As for accessories, he usually wears a watch on his right arm and a silver ring with his family crest on his left index finger.

~Personality~
Florian is probably one of the most hardworking people you'll ever meet. He's a quiet and focused man, not liking to be interrupted or distracted one bit. He puts his all into whatever work he has at his hands and finds it impossible to put anything down once he's started it.

He’s definitely a lone wolf, preferring to keep to himself and do his own thing. Due to old mistakes he’s scared he'll hurt people if he lets them get too close to him and therefore he just keeps everyone at an arm's distance. He can hold a friendly conversation if he's in the right mood but more often than not, he does his best to avoid it, rather keeping to himself and his work.

Florian is used to doing things his own way and most of his life, he's been able to do so, rarely being faced with any consequences, which has led to him continue doing so, being quite impulsive and going more of his gut feeling than the advice of others. And as long as things work out, despite him possibly breaking a few rules in the process, he can usually get himself out of any punishment, one way or the other.

It's hard to read the man’s emotions, he tends to bottle them up so no matter how hurt or annoyed you make him, on the outside he will act completely indifferent and neutral, keeping up the cold facade that most people get to see from him. You can be inches from his face and yelling, cussing him out, even pushing him around and you won't get a single reaction out of him, he will simply stare at you and wait for you to finish. But when he finally bottles over and breaks then it's a completely different side of him, and not a fun one.

Pretty much the only time that Florian drops the cold and indifferent facade, is when he's alone. While he seems like a man confident in his own knowledge and abilities, he's really extremely insecure and when he's alone, if he doesn't have his head buried in work or keeping busy in some other way, then he completely deteriorates, something he would never let someone else know.

~Likes~
Work
The ocean
Music
Rain
Working out
Cooking

~Dislikes~
Loud noises
His family
Giving up
Silence

~Strengths~
Psychical strength
Great liar
Hardworking
Ability to control his temper

~Weaknesses~
Impatient
Struggles to accept help
Impulsive
Disorganized

~Family~
Mother ~ Anastasia Dorn (52 y/o)(Alive)
Father ~ Lawrence Dorn (55 y/o)(Alive)
Brother(s) ~ None
Sister(s) ~ Collette Dorn (Would be 32 y/o)(Deceased at the age of 26 y/o)

Other family ~ Deceased or no relationship whatsoever other than seeing them at reunions and family events every so often.

~Backstory~
The man comes from a rather rich and successful family but he’s never taken any interest in the family business and has always chosen his own path so he’s not very involved in any of the business and he has little to no contact with his family any longer, only speaking to them occasionally and going to family dinners every now and then, but he tends to try and avoid talking to or about them.
~
Florian’s childhood wasn’t the easiest to say the least, he rarely talks about it and most of the time he’s able to act as if everything was fine. He’s chosen to put it all behind himself and try to forget but sometimes it gets hard for him to ignore it all.

The most he’ll tell others is that he lived in the Netherlands for the first few years of his life, being raised by his grandparents before moving to the U.S to be with his parents and sister.
(More in RP)

~Other~
Apart from English, Florian also speaks four other languages, Dutch being his native tongue and still making itself somewhat heard when he speaks English but as the years have gone by and he no longer speaks Dutch on the regular, his accent has faded a lot. Apart from that he also speaks French, Italian and Latin.

~Playlist~
Wouldn't be a character of mine without his own playlist now would it?
Florian

Name: Jack Witt

Gender: Male

Age: 26

Sexuality: Pansexual

Appearance: ehhhh picrews? picrews. https://postimg.cc/gallery/HdWmRTR

Personality: Quick Thinker | Active Mind | Challenge Seeker | Adrenaline Junky | Emotional Masochist | Short Temper | Silver Tongue | Manipulative | Good-Natured | Self-Hating | Empathetic | Extroverted | Brainiac | Vindictive | Loyal | Energetic

Likes: Adrenaline, Giving Physical Affection, Take Out Food, Teasing Friends, Causing Chaos, Helping People, Big Dogs (like Duncan his dog), Receiving Acts of Service or Quality Time, Getting Deep in Work, Validation (it’s complicated), Whiskey Straight, Gin, + Beer

Dislikes: Boredom, Bland/Unseasoned Food, The (rare) Times He Flusters, Failure, Spides, Mice, Receiving Gifts, Having Nothing to Do, Validation (told you, it’s complicated), Wine, Vodka, LSD.

Hobbies: Writing, Audio Journalist, Critiquing Bad Movies, Burying Himself in Work (?), + Long Walks

Bad Habits: Highly Vindictive, Big Drinker, Sleeps Around, Self-Destructive Behavior, + Picks Fights

Relationships: Plenty of exs and hookups but currently in a on-off fling

Family: Father, Deceased (Kirk Witt); Sister, 20 (Kat Witt)

Other: future playlist?

Six months.

Six months since the first body had shown up.

Just the first body had been bad enough on its own. A person was dead and there was not enough evidence to find the person responsible, in fact there had not been much evidence at all, just a mutilated body and a bloody scene.

After nearly a month of running into dead ends and racking his brain, the young detective, Florian Dorn, still hadn't gotten anywhere.

And then all of a sudden he found himself with another murder at his hands, suspiciously similar to the first one, but that was just a coincidence right?

Then was the third murder also a coincidence?

Or the fourth one?

Bodies seemed to be piling up and yet there was almost no evidence to go off. The one thing Florian now knew for certain was that he had a serial killer on his hands and pressure was quickly building. But how do you solve a crime with barely any evidence or clues? He still couldn't even figure out how the victims had been connected and chosen? The moment he thought he had it, there was another body and his theories would be scattered in an instant.

It had gotten to the point that a lot of his cases had been reassigned to other detectives, his superiors wanting him to put full focus on this one case.

“Maybe..?” The man mumbled quietly to himself as he shuffled through the pile of papers in front of him, taking a moment to smoke a drag of his cigarette as he did.

It was early in the morning and the detective sat outside on his balcony, he had for the last hour in fact. Sleep didn't come easily to him anymore, and when it did, it never lasted for long.

The man ran his fingers through his hair with a sigh before resuming to look through the papers that laid in messy piles on the table in front of him. Copies of anything and everything that they had on the case, copies he technically wasn't allowed to bring home but who would check?

Suddenly his phone went off, the loud ringing startling him, he must have accidentally put the sound on.

“This is Detective Dorn speaking,” he answered after taking a moment to collect himself.

“I see,” he mumbled quietly, “Yeah I'll be right down, send me the address please.”

With a heavy sigh, Florian hung up the phone, taking another drag of his cigarette before putting it out in a half empty glass of water that stood abandoned on the table next to the piles of paper.

Another body.

He could only pray that it wasn't connected to the other four but by the sound of it, it most definitely was.

~~~

Usually, the detective would be quick to enter the scene once he got there, but instead Florian sat in his car, parked across the street from the house and staring at himself in the rear view mirror. The bags under his eyes and his hollow cheeks made it apparent to not only himself but to anyone who saw him that he wasn't taking care of himself properly, he was too deep into this case to spare time for making proper meals and sleeping was just something his body refused him.

The loose strands of hair hanging down his face and the growing stubble that covered his lower face certainly didn't help. He looked like shit and he was well-aware of it but between investigating this case and trying to take care of the most basic of his own needs, there was simply no time.

Finally, Florian forced his gaze away from his reflection before pushing the car door open and stepping outside.

Slowly, the brown-haired man started approaching the house, not looking forward to getting the last bit of confirmation that this was yet another victim of the unknown serial killer.

Getting closer to the house the man heard shouting and sighed softly, probably just a grieving member of the victim’s family, it was nothing new and he had grown tired of it quickly. He fully understood their grief but causing a ruckus and disturbing the police in their investigation never helped.

Squeezing past two police cars, Florian came into full view of the house but before he could even reach the police tape surrounding it, he froze in place. Tired eyes lit up in recognition and shock as the cause of the shouting also came into view.

It couldn't be?

Why would he?

He had to be mistaken, right?

“This is Jack Witt, r-right?”

“Yes… now, I am going to ask again, who the hell is this? It’s not even… It’s not even six o’clock.”

Leaning forward and resting on the nightstand, Jack hunched over his phone, rubbing the bridge of his nose while focusing on the rushed and hoarse female voice. Jack could feel the clumsy arms of his half asleep partner lay across him before he rested his face between the crook of Jack’s neck and shoulder blade in a slightly awkward position. The other man, whose name was Lucas if he remembered correctly, pressed into Jack’s back and seemed to be lazily pulling him back deeper into bed. As tempting as it was to embrace the warm mattress, something told Jack that this call was important.

“I’m- I’m- Oh God, this is too much! Dan, please take the phone I can’t—”

Sitting up, Jack could distantly hear a sound of sobbing as there was another pause on the other end of the phone.

“Hi…, we are… very sorry to bother you…, especially this early in the morning,” a new voice said through the speaker. This voice was a lot rougher than the previous and spoke much, much slower. Taking long pauses, the speaker left an air of sadness between each word that felt horrid to breathe; it was like that heavy feeling of knowing a tragedy will occur but having no way to stop it. “We just… We realized our son— Henry— requested your services recently and…” The speaker trailed off. Lucas’s hands sank lower on Jack’s chest and he peeled them off to better focus on the call.

“Henry? Are you the Dotchinsons?” Jack asked. “Look, I know he is really torn up about Riley, but I promise you, I will get her back. I just need a bit of time and—”

“Henry’s dead.”

“What?”

“Henry’s… Christ… my-my son’s—!” The voice of Mr. Dotchinson broke off into a silent sob as sharp inhales could be heard on the other end of the line.

“Sir, did you or your wife call the police?”

Silence.

“Sir—”

“Yes, yes, we did!” Mr. Dotchinson barked loudly. He paused for a moment and a deep sigh left the man, distant sobbing of his wife filling the silence. “I’m… I’m sorry just…”

“I will be right there.”

“Thank you. Th-thank you…”

Click!

Jack ended the call and instantly climbed out of bed, searching for his clothes strewn about in the stranger’s apartment. As Jack pulled away, Lucas stared at Jack with wide eyes. Lucas said nothing for a long time. After finishing throwing on all his clothes, Jack turned and opened his mouth only to be interrupted.

“You just gonna leave? Thought you said you’d stay till morning…,” Lucas huffed disappointedly.

“Yeah, but… something came up.”

“Well? What is it that decides to call you away right now?”

A pause.

“My dog’s sick.”

A convincing enough lie.

Jack was always good at lying. He had a silver tongue and knew how to use it. Maybe that was why he was able to convince the neighbor of the house behind the Dotchinsons that he needed to investigate the fencing to see if the criminal could have escaped that way. That, of course, was a lie so that he could get to the house through the back. He was not a detective anymore so going onto a taped off property like this was by no means legal, but at least he did not technically impersonate a police officer while speaking to the neighbors. This was just their assumption based on his stereotypical “detective-like” wear. He had to admit, it made getting into places easier when he pretended to be a poorly disguised undercover cop with his long trench coat and everything.

After climbing the fence, it became an instant mission of stealth. Jack had been lucky to briefly talk to the Dotchinsons before he entered and learned of the location of Henry’s corpse: his own room on the second floor. Of course, Mrs. Dotchinson was doing even worse off than before because before, while on the call with Jack, she had been able to sit on her blue chair in the living room for comfort. Now, she was forced to stand outside, observing the broadcasters and news reporters discussing the death of Henry Dotchinson as ‘another death’ in connection to many other nameless victims.

It was easy enough getting into the house and exploring the first floor for the stairs. Frankly it felt odd how empty the first floor was. With all the cameras outside, Jack was surprised no one even saw him through the windows. Making his way up the creaky stairs, Jack crept down the left hallway towards the bedroom and stopped when he heard chatter and laughter. Peering in the room, investigators were in deep conversation with one another while snapping photos of the room, numbers placed on the ground by each spot of blood that covered Henry’s gray, bled-through sheets. One could only imagine the sight under the sheets of the young adult. You would never know just how mutilated his father found him if the sheets were changed and you could only see what Jack could now. The room was nearly bare with only some old mementos and basketball posters as Henry took most of his things out when he moved to college. He had to buy new sheets when he came back to his parents for winter break only to realize… well… only to realize the events which lead to Jack Witt’s hiring, of course. Henry was still in bed, with his eyes closed at least, as his arm hung limply out of bed. On the flesh of his wrist a symbol was carved with a knife. It had two circular ears, whiskers, and crossed out eyes; it was a rat’s head.

“Jack fuckin’ Witt.” Jack turned around in an instant and was met face-to-face with two police officers. “The hell are you doin’ here?”

“Ahhh… heyyy Officer Rogers,” Jack replied nervously to the pale woman with her arms crossed as tight as her brows were furrowed. Jack then turned and nodded to the much bigger, tanner officer with a hopeful smile. “Officer Smith, lookin’ good as always! How have you both been doing?”

“Jack…”

“I mean seriously, how long has it been since we’ve—”

“Jack,” Sarah Rogers growled. “You know you aren’t supposed to be here.”

“Then turn the other way, Sarah!” Jack whispered in desperation as he took a step towards them, their eyes unchanging in their amount of sympathy. “Please. I really need to help this family.”

“You can’t seriously expect us to leave you alone, with evidence, after what you did,” Steve Smith replied with narrowed eyes. Jack felt the coldness of his glare and his body instantly went rigid.

“You both still believe that the whole situation was my fault, don’t you…?” Jack mumbled, his shoulders sinking. Almost as fast as his shoulders sank, they rose and grew defensive as he grew animated in his hand motions. “Well, it wasn’t me, goddammit! I didn’t do anything and you both know I would not have—”

“Whether you did that or not then, you are breaking the law now,” Sarah interrupted. “We are going to escort you off the property now and you can either go willingly or—”

“Sarah, come on! Don’t do this to me…”

“We have done it before and we will keep doing it until you learn your damn lesson,” Steve shot back as he spoke up once again. “Honestly, I knew you went down a bad path, but this is just getting pathetic, Witt.” Sarah sighed in a wordless agreement as they both grabbed his arms in spite of Jack’s resistance.

“God, let go of me!” Jack shouted, frustration only building as he was dragging down the stairs. “I deserve to be here just as much as you both do!” He was practically screaming as he thrashed, causing Steve almost to drop him but managing to maintain his grip as he was dragged out the door. “I am the one who knows the most about this damn case and if you have any respect for finding Ellie, Xavier, Henry, and all the victims and their killers you better—”

Jack went dead silent and his eyes softened.

“Flo…” The moment the word left his lips, his eyes narrowed even more as his hands clenched into fists. Any spectator would have thought he was about to kill the man in front of him, but instead he just laughed. “Well, look who we have here. The golden boy, ladies and gents!” Bitterness laced his tone as the officers holding onto him began to stop dragging him and were now focused on keeping him in place in case he were about to charge. “The man who could never do any god-damn wrong! So how’s life been treating you, huh? Bet you’re doing real great, detective!”

Jack spoke the word ‘detective’ with such a disdain that he seemed to spit the word out like a vile substance. A mix of jealousy and resentment seemed to be mixed in as he locked eyes with his former partner: Florian Dorn.

No. Please God no.

It truly was who Florian had thought.

Jack Witt, Florian's former partner and best friend. The man he had betrayed and caused to lose his job on the force due to Florian's own stupid mistake.

He had not seen the other man in a long time and it brought up a lot of buried memories and emotions seeing him again. Jack had changed a lot since he had last seen him but it was still him, there was no doubt about it, and had there been, that doubt disappeared the moment the man opened his mouth and spoke.

“Well, look who we have here. The golden boy, ladies and gents!”

Florian clenched his jaw slightly, a million thoughts running through his head as he observed the other man silently. He had gone over what he would do and say, were he ever to see Jack again, at least a million times in his head, yet as he stood face to face with his former friend, he could not bring himself to speak, he couldn’t open his mouth to push out a single word, all he could do was stare silently.

“The man who could never do any god-damn wrong! So how’s life been treating you, huh? Bet you’re doing real great, detective!”

Jack’s words felt like daggers, piercing and cutting right into him but Florian remained still and silent, his mind running at a hundred miles an hour. He wanted to say a million things but this was not the place to do it, not with other people around.

“Jack-” the detective’s voice cracked slightly and his gaze immediately shifted to the ground in between them. He felt like a complete and utter idiot, he couldn't even speak properly when addressing the man he'd once trusted with his life.

Clearing his throat, Florian looked up, this time focusing his gaze on the two officers instead.

“Officer Rogers and Smith, please let go off Mr. Witt. I'm sure he can find his own way off the scene from here,” he spoke, his voice void of any emotion, something the rest of his body made up for though.

The young man shifted his weight from one leg to the other uncomfortably while fiddling with the ring on his left hand, running his thumb over the back of it and twisting it back and forth.

He felt confused and lost, he didn't know how to handle this situation just like he didn't know how to move forward with this current case. And all he’d managed to do was ask the two officers to let go of Jack? Like that would solve anything?!

There really was no better word than idiot to describe Florian right now. Here he was, standing face to face with someone he hurt and who’s career he ruined, and he couldn't even speak to them directly, hell he couldn't even look the person in the eyes. An idiot and a coward, that's what he was and he absolutely did not blame Jack if he thought the same.

((This is kinda short but my brain has been empty of ideas for weeks so now I'm just gonna force it back into RP mode and being creative and then hopefully my next post can be longer!))

Jack was expecting to be yelled at maybe even to be roughed up by Florian. After all, not only would it further justify his anger with the other, but it would make sense. Throwing insult after insult into anyone’s face is bound to make a pacifist lash out. If anything though, he looked less angry and more sad. In addition, out of seemingly nowhere, Florian asked the other officers to let him go.

“But sir he—” Steve was cut off with an elbow to his side by Sarah. The two glared at each other momentarily before Sarah released Jack with a sigh.

“It was good to see you again, Jack,” Sarah said, turning back to go back to the crime scene, “despite the circumstances.” Steve said nothing as his grip tightened on Jack. Sarah paused and glanced back at her partner. “Come on, let’s go.”

“You heard her Smith,” Jack replied with a smug grin. “Get going.”

Releasing Jack with a huff, Steve followed Sarah while giving a glare to Jack as Jack stumbled a bit from the harsh shove Steve had given him upon letting go. Glancing over his shoulder at the two he used to know, Jack grumbled sourly to himself while dusting off and adjusting his collar and tie. Scornful eyes darted back up to Florian now but they were more puzzled and suspicious than hateful as they had been.

Jack waited for Florian to say something to him, eyeing him up and down. He had changed— dare Jack say, matured— a lot in these past few years. Florian looked nearly 20 years older if anything with heavy bags under his eyes and less clean-shaven. He no longer reeked of the heavy scent of weed or booze— and good for him, getting himself clean and Jack hooked— but it looked like work was a more addictive drug as it seemed to be eating away at him. From what Jack could tell, Florian had taken two steps forward and a step and a half back.

“Well?” Jack threw his hands up as he waited for Florian to speak. “Out with it. What do you want with me?” Folding his arms, Jack’s eyes looking Florian up and down yet again. The way he shifted and almost squirmed under Jack’s eyes… Did Florian actually feel guilty? Jack’s anger almost felt misplaced with how much weaker Florian seemed, how distraught and guilt-ridden he was. Even with Florian seeming to regret his actions, that did not stop Jack from scoffing.

“If this is your attempt to make you forgive you, you’re not doing a great job of it, detective,” Jack growled as he shook his head and looked away. “Right now, the only thing you can do to help me is to either let me investigate my case—” Jack said, pointing back to the house behind him as he stepped towards Florian— “or stay out of my way.” Jack had stepped so close that he was mere inches from Florian, towering over the other. “I have got more information on this case then you ever will and I am getting to those case files whether you give them to me or I take them, got that detective?” Jack brushed past Florian, shoving a hand deep in his pocket as the other gave a half wave over his shoulder. “I am heading out now if you don’t decide fast. My number hasn’t changed since the last time you called— what?— five years now?”

(mine is shorter, you're good- also sorry for not responding, I accidentally unsubscribed to everything a while back and forgot to add this back and got really sad thinking you never responded when I was just being dumb)

Florian stood in silence as he watched the two officers leave, trying to go over what to say in his head once he and Jack were alone but everything he came up with just seemed more stupid than the other. What was wrong with him? He used to trust this man with his life, he would tell him everything and now he couldn't even form a single sentence?

“Well?”

Florian snapped back into focus, almost flinching as the other man suddenly threw his hands up. The brown-haired man had to force himself to not take a step back.

“Jack I-” the detective started quietly, looking anywhere but at the man in front of him.

“If this is your attempt to make you forgive you, you’re not doing a great job of it, detective.”

Oh he knew, but what did you say to someone who you betrayed in the way he had betrayed Jack? What was he supposed to say or do? How could he ever mend things between them, and was it even possible to do so? Surely Jack would never forgive him no matter what he did.

He could hear the man speaking but the words were barely registering. Florian was so lost in his own thoughts, trying to figure out and choose his next words carefully. His blue gaze was glued to the ground in front of him, Jack’s words being nothing but a background noise to his own thoughts.

It wasn't until the other man closed the gap between them, his feet stepping into the spot where Florian’s eyes had laid their focus, that his gaze snapped up and he could make out the words being spoken to him.

“I have got more information on this case then you ever will and I am getting to those case files whether you give them to me or I take them, got that detective?”

As the other towered over him, Florian had instinctively taken half a step back, his eyes flashing with fear briefly before acceptance took over, if Jack intended to hit him, he couldn't really blame him, he understood it perfectly and he would be lying if he said he didn't deserve it, after what he'd done he deserved more than that honestly.

“I am heading out now if you don’t decide fast. My number hasn’t changed since the last time you called— what?— five years now?”

In a way, Florian had been right about the hit, however it was not a physical strike, rather words spoken in such a way that they felt like a punch to the gut, another reminder of the horrible way Florian had dealt with everything.

The only good thing was that now he could push Jack out of his mind and instead focus on the case. He could figure out what he would say to the other at a later time, and call him when he himself was ready. Although, he hadn't been ready for the past 5 years so who was he kidding?

Alright, time to focus, no more thinking about Jack. There was work to be done and he needed to put his full focus on that, something which was easier said than done.

~~~

12:46 am.

Florian stared at the alarm clock’s bright red numbers as he laid in bed. It was looking like yet another sleepless night, just perfect. Both his body and mind felt completely exhausted, his thoughts having alternated between Jack and the case all day, yet as he laid in bed, sleep refused to come to him, it had been over an hour since he'd laid down but since then, he'd just been twisting and turning, feeling more awake than he had all day.

With a sigh, the brown-haired man got out of bed and walked out into the kitchen, grabbing a glass that looked somewhat clean, out of the sink. He filled it up with water as his eyes scanned over the kitchen counter, eyes landing on a package of Prosom. His dear mother had been so kind to send him those sleeping pills after seeing him a few months back when the sleeping issues had first started. He had yet to open them, in fact he had intended to throw them out. They were pills, drugs, legal or not he did not want them, hell he hadn't even taken a damn Advil for the past 5 years. It wasn't even pills that had been the main problem but he refused to let him get dependent on something like that again. But that package really looked so tempting right now, just one wouldn't hurt, right?

“Fuck!” The man suddenly exclaimed, even surprising himself, before turning his back on the little box and taking a large gulp of the cold water. As he grumbled quietly to himself, he started loading the coffee maker before turning it on. If he couldn't get any sleep, then he would at least make sure to get some work done.

Soon the young man could be found in his dimly lit living room, one hand resting around the coffee cup on the table while the other was flicking the ashes off the end of a cigarette, was he allowed to smoke inside the apartment? Technically not, but the landlord was just some greedy fat old guy who could only ever be bothered to stop by if you were late with rent, and that Florian had never been so he was left alone to do as he wished, besides, he did have a window open and had been thoughtful enough to buy some scented candles which were currently lit, canceling out the smell of burning tobacco and nicotine somewhat.

Once again the new victim had only torn down any existing theories he’d had and left him with even more question marks rather than answers. How was he ever supposed to solve this?

As he flicked through the copies of the case files, searching for just about anything that could give him the slightest clue about the next direction to head in, Jack’s voice played in the back of his head and after trying to ignore it, Florian finally pulled his phone out.

2:26 am.

Shit. Had he really been awake for so long already?

Groaning softly, Florian rubbed his one of his eyes with the back of his hand before taking another drag of his cigarette as he searched for Jack’s contact, he obviously couldn't call the man now, surely he would be asleep, but he would send the man a text to come when he had the time. It was becoming more and more obvious that he wouldn't solve this case on his own and it wouldn't hurt to let Jack look at the case files if he got some information in return, right?

*You wanted to see the case files? I still live at the same address, stop by when you have time - Flo*

The young man stared at the text, his finger hovering over the send button before moving and deleting the whole text instead. He couldn't just send that, it made it sound as if nothing had happened.

After rewriting and deleting the text a couple of times, he did finally settle on one and pressed send before he could delete it once more.

*I’m sorry. I have some of the case files, same address as before. You can have a look, come by when you have the time for it - Dorn*

Was it any better? Not really. But it would have to do since it had already been sent. He felt so incredibly stupid having sent it though? Why include the first part? Apologizing over text for betraying someone's trust and ruining their career? Oh yeah, that seemed totally reasonable. God he was such an idiot.

And saying that he only had some of the case files? That might have been the only smart thing in that text, he had a copy of everything even remotely related to the victims and the case, but he say that, if Jack intended to take them it would be absolutely idiotic of him to let him get everything, yeah he could make more copies but if Jack really knew so much about the case, letting him get all the case files would mean he might just solved it completely. Of course Florian wanted it solved but with how much time and energy he had been putting into this, he wanted to be at least a small part of solving it, even if that was completely selfish of him to think that way.

((All good xD I assumed you were just too busy and that's why you hadn't replied yet hah))

“Can I buy you a drink?”

The woman’s eyes were tracing him and drinking in every detail and it was plain to tell. Turning in her stool, her posture shifted a bit as she seemed to already relax and be trying to pull him in. Then again, Jack did not mind being pulled in when he needed a distraction.

“But how could I repay you?~” she purred, shuffling to the edge of her seat as Jack sat in the stool next to her.

“Well, you seem like a smart woman,” Jack replied. “I am sure you can think of something..”

It was nice for Jack to find a way to distract himself, drown out all the noise and nuisances. Go numb, you know? Sharing a drink and then a private space with a stranger was just one way of doing this. Even with this one woman who he had just met, it did not take long before they were in the bathroom with her finger in his hair and his hand sneaking up her thigh. She was not bad but not particularly good either— resulting in a mediocre experience, but this and the two beers were enough to forget why he was irritated and anxious. Checking his phone to a slew of texts and a time of exactly 23:29, Jack figured he was sober enough after his excursion to the bathroom to drive. He probably was not, but who even gave a fuck if he crashed somewhere and died?

Jack stepped out of his red vehicle with wrappers, receipts, and beer bottles from the car following him and tumbling onto the parking lot concrete. Biting the inside of his cheek, Jack debated just leaving the trash there for someone else to have to deal with it. But what if everyone left trash for others to clean? After a moment, Jack bent down and began picking everything up, haphazardly throwing stuff back into the car before turning and making his way to his sister’s apartment building.

Room 109.

Jack knocked and waited.

With a groan, the door gave way to Kat Witt.

“Bout time you got here. Where have you been for Christ’s sake?”Jack rolled his eyes and brushed past her. Kat grabbed his wrist and yanked him back. “No, no, no, no, you are not getting out of this conversation! I had to watch Lola for you for almost a whole goddamn day! Couldn’t you have— I don’t know— texted or called so I could be prepared to take my day off for you?”

“Fuck off, Kat,” Jack hissed. Kat sealed her lips. Yanking his arm free of her grasp, he did not realize just how harsh he came off before he had stumbled his way into the kitchen.

The pale light of the refrigerator illuminated Jack’s face as he bent down to look for a drink. In the corner of his eye, Jack could faintly see his sister leaning against the non-crumbling side of the old kitchen counter with her arms folding and eyes down on the ground. The tiles on the floor were pale with yellow stains and holes so there was nothing keeping Kat’s eyes glued to them other than the need to avoid Jack’s. Biting the raw part of his cheek, he grabbed a beer and closed the refrigerator door.

“Sooo… you’ll never guess who I saw today who put me in such a bad mood,” Jack prompted to break the ice as he leaned against the counter next to Kat.

“An old teacher?” Kat asked with a slight scoff, shuffling away from him.

“Woooorse,” Jack chuckled with a slight slur to even the one word, opening the cold beer in his hand.

“Uhh… that ex-girlfriend you had a while back?”

“Helena? God, way worse than her.”

Kat paused for a moment, turning herself a bit more towards Jack. “Mr. Johnson from down the block?” Jack had tipped the bottle to his lips but made a circular motion to signal for her to keep going down the line of worse and worse people. “I give up. Not many people are worse that Mr. Johnson.”

“Florian. Dorn.” Jack pronounced every syllable of his name in such a profound and immense manner as if the name held so much weight and importance— which it did to these two.

“Florian Dorn? No…” Kat shook her head in disbelief, staring up at her brother as he did not look up from his bottle. “The guy that— that Florian Dorn?”

“The one who I had developed feelings for and who used my closeness with him to save himself and ruin our lives?” Jack asked with a bitter laugh. “Yep.” The ‘p’ of his ‘yep’ popped in such a way that it sounded like a pocket of hatred which had been building up had just burst open and showed off a fraction of Jack’s immense anger.

“Shit.”

“Uh-huh.” Jack was quiet for a moment. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell at you. I just— I—”

“It’s fine, Jack. How about you put the bottle down and we talk on the couch a bit, huh?”

“Yeah… you’re right… But, no. No, it’s— it’s not fine! F-Fuck, Kit-Kat, you shouldn’t have to deal with such a shitty older brother like me. You’re just—”

“Excuse me?!”

“— too good to be needing to deal with my shit. I should have worked harder, I should have taken on a third job, and I should have pushed back more— sued even! Now, I am j-j-just some dumbass who can’t let go of a bottle all ‘cause Florian and his stupid— his stupid—!”

“Stop talking about yourself like that dammit! You’ve fucked up at times, yeah, but you’re not the only one. Now, let’s go to the couch, Jack. Forget about Florian, alright?”

“But he looked so sad, Kit-Kat… Why couldn’t he have done more than just let me be mad at him?”

“You’re drunk, Jack.”

“I know. I s-s-so sorry… I’m so…”

~~~~~

Jack woke to the buzzing of his phone on his stomach. At some point after he had fallen asleep on the couch, Kat had draped a blanket over him which made finding his phone a bit difficult. It was a text from Florian.

“I’m sorry. I have some of the case files, same address as before. You can have a look, come by when you have the time for it - Dorn”

Jack sighed as he looked at the text, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he sat up. Looking around his sister’s apartment, Jack realized that Kat was probably gone for work at the hospital by now since her shift started at 3:00 and he would have to take Lola with him since there was no way he was leaving her in his sister’s apartment for so long.

“I’ll be there in a bit with my girl”

Five minutes to leave the apartment, another seven to get Lola in the car (she was deciding to be particularly fussy today), and twenty to drive to his house. That’s right, twenty minutes. Florian was twenty minutes away from Kat’s apartment and an extra ten minutes to Jack’s yet he never bothered to visit. But that's besides the point. In all honesty, Jack was surprised Florian still lived here. Sure, working as a detective was not necessarily the biggest breadwinner, but surely he could have afforded a new apartment by now.

Scooping Lola out of the car (with quite a bit of effort now that she was growing so much bigger), Jack made his way through the building as sneakily as possible. Not that he had to be sneaky, maybe he was still a bit buzzed and paranoid, but he still had no need to be checking around each corner like he was. He took longer than he should have but eventually Jack made it to the door. Did he have the confidence to even do this right now?

Suddenly, Lola barked. Lola, the best animal he had ever known, was much bigger than when he first got her three years ago, but this Bernese Mountain dog was as loving as she was big so her size was a much smaller issue to him. Despite her stature and lack of formal training, Lola was insanely smart and seemed to always recognize whenever Jack needed to be cheered up and now was one of these moments.

A smile graced his lips as he ruffled her hair before gaining the courage to knock on his door.

“Florian, open up. Let’s get this investigation going, already!”

“I'll be there in a bit with my girl.”

Florian sat staring at his phone, reading the text over and over again. He had almost not expected a response. What he had expected less was the last half of it. My girl? As in girlfriend or what was the man on about? He didn't quite understand it but he didn't question him, if Jack really was coming here then he would get an answer soon enough.

When Florian finally managed to peel his blue gaze away from his phone, he looked around the dimly lit living room, his apartment was a mess. The man had always been disorganized and messy when it came to the spaces around him but this was just too much even for him.

The coffee table was covered in piles of paper, a stack of case files, pictures of evidence scattered across it and a bunch of notes paired up to each one of them. The small space on the table not covered by papers was occupied by a nearly overflowing ashtray and a couple dirty cups, a new one soon about to be added once he finished the new one he had brought with from the kitchen, and next to that, a pile of old plates. On the floor laid balled up papers, a new one being added each time a pattern or theory fell apart. Due to the lack of space on the table and motivation to go the (not so) long way to the kitchen, a small pile of takeaway boxes had formed on the other end of the couch. And that was just his living room.

The man took another drag of his cigarette as he sighed deeply, what the fuck was he doing?

After a few minutes of sitting leaned back and staring at the ceiling while finishing his cigarette, Florian finally got up, getting at the takeaway boxes first. After a few trips back and forth to the kitchen they had been stuffed into the trash can and he could move onto the dishes, dishes that barely fit onto the counter next to the other ones already in there, great. Really the kitchen was in just as big of a clean as the living room was but the case files were in the living room so Jack would most likely not see the kitchen

Coming back out into the living room, Florian found the light switch and soon the room was filled up with a bright light that almost stung his sleep deprived eyes. He had been relying on the floor lamp next to his couch and some candles on a side table for light way too long.

The man knelt down and quickly picked the crumpled up papers before standing up straight again and weighing them in his hands for a bit, considering on whether or not to keep them, in the end he decided against it though, adding them to the now practically overflowing trash can in the kitchen.

Being down on the floor he had realized just how dirty it was but not wishing to wake his neighbors up, he decided against vacuuming, however he did find a broom and used it to quickly sweep the floor, it was nowhere near perfect but it was good enough.

God, he didn't even put this much effort into cleaning when he knew other people were coming over, not that it was common though, most of the time it was just his parents dropping by and no matter if the place was spotless, they would still not be happy. Oh the amounts of times the had tried getting him to move out of this old apartment and let them buy him a nicer one, but he refused, he like this place, yeah maybe it was old and outdated but he had so many memories here, good and bad, and most importantly, it was his own place, he paid for it with his own money each month, his parents could not use it as something to guilt him about.

Knowing that Jack was on his way here felt different than any other person though, not only was he feeling anxious about just interacting with the man but he didn't want the other to know just how bad he was struggling with this case, and life in general. Although Florian's appearance probably told the man more than enough.

Finally it was time to deal with the mess on the table that was all the evidence. Where was he even supposed to start? It was in order for him, he knew exactly where he had everything but that didn't change the fact that it looked like a mess, everything laid randomly strewn out across the table, his personal notes sprinkled all over. Now that he was looking at it from a different perspective, it didn't really make sense at all actually.

A sudden bark shifted the man's attention and he looked towards the door where the bark had sounded from. Why would a dog be barking at this hour of the night?

A moment after a knock sounded and a familiar voice could be heard from the other side of his door.

“Florian, open up. Let’s get this investigation going, already!”

Jack was really here. It felt unreal to him that the man was actually here, on the other side of his door. The realization that this was really happening filled him with a mix of anxiety and happiness. He still had no idea what to say to the other man, how to deal with this situation but at the same time, and the thing that urged him to move forward and walk out into the hall, he felt so happy at the possibility that maybe, just maybe, things could be fixed between the two and him and Jack might be able to rekindle their friendship. Maybe that was too much of wishful thinking though, surely it was a long long way until Jack would forgive and trust him again.

Florian took a deep breath, trying to steady himself somewhat as he unlocked the door and pushed the handle down, pulling the door open hesitantly until his eyes met Jack’s.

He could only manage just a few seconds of eye contact before his gaze turned away, dropping and seeing the dog next to Jack and he smiled weakly, now realizing what Jack had meant with his girl.

“Hey,” he finally mumbled, glancing up at Jack slightly, “Come in,” he continued as he stepped out of the way. He wanted to apologize and explain everything, but he didn't know if now was the right time. Was he supposed to just jump at it and tackle it right away or was it better to stay quiet and let Jack look at the case files in silence? What did Jack want? Oh how he wished he could read the man’s mind.