The instant the door opened, Lola leaped up onto Florian without second thought, her chicken and mulch breath devouring him in the same way her tongue devoured any sense of decency Florian might have had going into this. Jack walked past Florian, his shoulder bumping into the others slightly as he made no motion to help. How would he even help? Lola had taken a liking to Florian so who was Jack to stop their budding friendship.

“Oh great, the bitches are getting along,” Jack chuckled before adding “kidding~” in a sing-song voice to be as playful as always. Though it did not sound like he was kidding. Jack took one look around the apartment before glancing back at Florian. Whether through pity for Florian or jealousy that Lola was not paying attention to him, Jack gave a low whistle and Lola’s ears raised. “Lola! Come here, girlie!!” Jack patted the couch once as he gave this call and thus caused the dog to bound onwards and barrel into the couch, leaving room for one person at best.

Snickering to himself, Jack took the time to glance around the room with more detail this time. The table was clear except for the court cases, the ashtray empty, and the trash can… Jack smirked to himself as he caught sight of the trash can. Confirming his suspicions, Jack walked over to the trash can and lightly nudged it with his foot. Fresh residue that had not receded to the base of the bag as well as the potent smell confirmed Jack’s suspicions that all of the trash in there had been thrown away recently. It did seem a bit too clean in here for how disheveled Florian looked.

“Either you eat a lot or you suddenly decided to clean up for lil’ ol’ me! Am I right?~” His tone indicated that he did not need to wait for an answer as he strode over to Florian and pinched his cheek with a smirk. “Aww~ adorable! The detective is trying to impress me!” Jack laughed again, stepping a bit closer to the other man and reaching a hand behind the man to close the door, placing Florian between Jack and the door. “Keep this behavior up because it definitely suits the good little boy you are, detective~” This could either have been flirting or an insult, but Jack’s breath still lingered with enough booze that it could have been either.

After a moment, Jack smirked and pulled away before seating himself at the foot of the couch without another word. He leaned his head back against Lola, who still took up a majority of the couch, as she began to lick the side of his face. Jack picked up a file, looked at it for a moment, then instantly got distracted again as he looked over at Florian expectantly.

“Weeeell?” Jack asked, vaguely motioning towards the evidence. “Are you going to make yourself useful? Christ, at the very least ya could ask me if I want a coffee or a bear or something… Tch, tch, detective.”

(Sorry this is such a short post- I wanted to work more on it but if I wanted to be able to post for this rp I needed to do it now so I can start a Slicker or Alice post.)

As the large dog leaped up onto him, licking his face as if attempting to peel his skin off with her bare tongue, he couldn't help but smile while ruffling her fur.

“Hey, easy girl,” he managed to get out between low chuckles as the dog coated his face in saliva.

“Oh great, the bitches are getting along.”

Florian's face dropped at Jack’s comment, being brought back to reality by it, realizing that despite the love of the dog in front of him, her owner felt the exact opposite about him. Jack was here for one thing and one thing only, the case files.

When the other man called the dog off him, Florian watched the large ball of fur run full speed at the couch before leaping straight into it and laying down, looking more than pleased with herself.

The brown-haired man took the moment of peace to wipe his wet face off with the arm of his shirt and running his fingers through his hair to try and get it looking somewhat presentable, just because he was a mess, didn't mean he had to look the part, he could at the very least try and keep up the act of being somewhat put together, even if he knew that Jack most likely saw straight through it.

“Either you eat a lot or you suddenly decided to clean up for lil’ ol’ me! Am I right?~”

And just like that, Jack proved what Florian knew when he nudged the trash can, revealing the mess the Florian had tried to hide from him by shoving it all into a bag.

As Florian started searching for something to reply with, Jack moved closer, making the man more nervous as he started stuttering as he tried figuring out a response. The feeling of Jack’s fingers pinching his cheek made him fall silent though, grimacing slightly while his cheeks started turning a rosy red, unable to stop it as Jack got even closer in his personal space, shutting the door behind his back.

Florian leaned as far back as he could, back pressing against the door as he averted his gaze, looking down at the floorboards as the color of his cheeks spread to the tips of his ears.

“Keep this behavior up because it definitely suits the good little boy you are, detective~”

Flirtatious words filled the air, Jack’s alcohol stained breath brushing against his skin as he fought to calm his blushing. Why was he feeling this way? This was Jack for God sake, the man he had seen as his best friend for so long.

It was this case’s fault. It had to be, that was the only explanation. This case and the fact that his head was already a mess, that was why he felt so strange being around Jack again, that's why the man was able to mess with him so easily.

When Jack finally backed off and took a seat at the couch, Florian could finally breathe out and his shoulders dropped slightly as his eyes followed Jack’s movements over to the couch, watching as the man dropped down with his back against the fluffy canine and his hand reaching for one of the many files that decorated the table.

That's right, Jack was here for the files, nothing else. Florian just had to remind himself of that, the other man wasn't here to mess with him or try to rekindle their friendship, he was strictly here on business and Florian simply had to remind himself of that and get a grip.

“Weeeell? Are you going to make yourself useful? Christ, at the very least ya could ask me if I want a coffee or a beer or something… Tch, tch, detective.”

Florian was brought back from his thoughts and his cheeks instantly turned rosy again, this time from embarrassment, Jack was right. After all this time, the least he could do is be a good host and offer the man a drink.

“I don't have any beer, I’m sober now,” he mumbled as walked off to the kitchen to make them both coffee. Florian glanced around the kitchen, sighing at the mess before starting to prepare the coffee maker and then turning it on.

While waiting for the coffee to get done, the young man searched his cabinets for clean mugs but instead he was met with yet another one of his parents oh so thoughtful gifts. In the back of one of his cabinets stood a row of whiskey bottles, hidden out of sight and collecting dust as Florian had forced them out of his mind. He should have thrown them out a long time ago but they were expensive bottles, he knew that, and he also knew that his father would lose it if he found out Florian was just throwing them away, not that he could even understand why he would give him bottles of liquor in the first place but oh well. Florian bit the inside of his cheek a little before grabbing one and putting it on the counter after wiping some dust off it, figuring that maybe Jack would prefer the whiskey over coffee.

His quest for clean mugs then continued for a little longer before he gave up, realizing that all his mugs stood piled next to the sink…

Before dealing with that, he did grab a bowl, luckily having a few clean ones left, and filled it with water before walking out into the living room and setting it down. He glanced slightly at Jack before motioning towards Lola, “In case she wants some.” Of course he did not have to explain that, obviously Jack would easily have been able to put two and two together but there was something about being around Jack that made Florian feel as if he had to explain himself, even when it was such a small thing like now.

“So eh,” Florian looked at Jack again, “Apparently I got some whiskey, if you'd rather want that…” his gaze drifted as he spoke while he subconsciously rocked back and forth on his feet. Having Jack around filled him with such nervousness and anxiety, it felt as if he was walking around on eggshells, as if one wrong move or word would set the other man off and throw them into a fight about everything that had happened a few years prior.

“Actually I’ll just bring both and you can have whatever,” he then mumbled before fleeing the living room and its tense atmosphere with quick steps. Never had he thought he would be feeling and acting this way around Jack of all people, and he had no idea how to stop it, or even how to talk to Jack like a normal person again.

After spending a few moments in the kitchen, washing a few cups and glasses before the coffee maker was done. Florian grabbed a towel and dried off two cups and a glass, putting the glass upside down on the whiskey bottle before filling the cups with coffee and beginning the task of carrying it all out into the living room without spilling or dropping anything. He squeezed the bottle between his arm and torso before grabbing a cup with each hand and walking with careful steps towards the living room.

Lucky for him, the file that Jack now held in his hands, had left an empty spot on the table that he could put the cups down onto with careful movements, once he had his hands free he put the bottle down, his hand lingering on it for just a second too long before grabbing one of the cups and taking a sip as he walked over to one of the windows pushing it open as he placed the mug on the windowsill and instead reached for the pack of cigarettes in his pocket, pulling one out and placing between his lips before lighting it. Normally he would have no problem smoking inside without opening a window but with Jack around, he was trying to be on his best behavior.

“So what do you know about the case so far..?” Florian asked after a few puffs, taking a break from the cigarette every now and then to take a sip of the coffee. His eyes didn't meet Jack’s during or after the question, instead scanning over the city below his apartment, watching the dimly lit streets as they remained empty and peaceful at this early hour.

((All good ^^))

Sober? Florian? Jack chuckled for a moment while shaking his head, dismissing the thought as a joke until… Oh fuck, he was serious. Florian was sober. Now that was surely a big surprise. The constantly drunk or high chaotic policeman who was a blast to hangout with. Then again, more often than not, Jack had been carting around the other and either vigorously apologizing for him, dragging him home, or stopping him from drinking or smoking more. Maybe it was not always fun to deal with his inebriated friend, but it was better than his sober self.

“Boring, but good for you, I guess,” Jack said with a huff as he looked back at the case files. “At least one of us has gotten clean, right?”

Jack’s head felt like piercing pins in between the wrinkles of his brain. He was not as bad as Florian used to be with drugs— only taking some here or there from one specific man— but he was much worse when it came to the drinking. At this point, he really needed a glass of something to help him focus again.

Luckily enough, he managed to get his eyes to focus on the blurry words enough to read Ellie’s autopsy. Ellie, a 39 year old Asian woman, was found dead by her sons at 19:30. Prior to the incident, the autopsy noted no struggles with her health. During the external examination, wrists and ankles were determined to have wounds caused by zip ties pulled tight enough to cut skin— he took a shaky breath in, closed his eyes briefly, then forced himself to continue— while multiple abrasions and lacerations were evidently caused by both a blunt weapon and someone potentially kicking her. Seminal fluid and blood were in her mouth, the blood was not her own so Jack would like to think she fought back at least a little. It was clear she was beaten to death in a slow, painful way. While she was still alive, her flesh was branded— a symbol of a rat.

Jack’s reading was interrupted by Florian entering the room with a bowl for Lola. Jack shifted in his seat and briefly set the file down as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. Jack nodded absent-mindedly as he took the bowl, muttering something along the lines of “yeah, thanks” while dismissing him with a hand wave. When Florian continued to talk, only then did Jack look up at him. Jack considered his proposition of whiskey for a moment. Whiskey did sound good right about now, but it might not be the best to— Oh wait, Florian had just decided to get both in the time it took for Jack to decide anything.

Jack just silently huffed and shook his head, offering water to Lola. Lola lapped it up as if she had been drained of all her liquids and was in desperate need of nourishment. She wasn’t, but the visual was enough to make a warm smile come across his lips. The series of events even made him chuckle as he tried to pull the bowl away from her, causing her to start to slip off the couch in order to follow the water.

As Florian returned with the cups, Jack set the now empty bowl on the ground by the sofa and picked the case file up from his lap. After receiving a mug and cup of coffee and whiskey respectively, Jack muttered another general gratitude. Grabbing the mug, Jack blew cool air on the surface of the coffee before tipping it back to drink the bitter liquid.

That was when Florian asked what Jack knew about the case. Jack looked up from his coffee and over his shoulder at Florian. He sat on a window sill looking out at the city, his face faintly illuminated by the dying lights from outside the apartment. Sighing, Jack set the coffee down on the table.

“I know John was named after his father, but he was doing everything in his power to not be like him. He was working hard for his brother and mother on days where he did not have soccer. He is a goalie, if you could believe it. Hye really looks up to his older brother and gets an ‘A+’ in everything but science because his teacher hates him for correcting her work. Hye’s a goddamn genius, I’m telling ya.” Jake picked up the whiskey and paused to take a small sip of it. “Their mom loved lasagna and sautéed mushrooms but has not had them in years because her sons hate them. She brought drinks and snacks for the highschool soccer team at each game so much so that every player knew her on a first name basis. She works two jobs so she can save for her sons to go to college and was hoping to surprise them with a hiking trip for winter break to a spot they used to go before her messy divorce.” Jack took another, longer sip of the whiskey.

“What do you mean it can’t work?” Jack asked with a huff, throwing his arms up as he glared at the other.

Jack had just gotten on top of the table to emphasize his point— made a damn good point at that— and now Florian was here saying that his point was almost entirely invalid and that he had searched every link. Bullshit, but whatever. Jack looked entirely deflated as he glared down at Florian before grumbling as he stepped off the table. Snatching the empty glass off the table, he made his way to the kitchen where he saw Florian pouring the bottle of whiskey previously.

Florian kept talking about how he had searched everything, but he couldn't have possibly meant everything? Obviously, they would be missing something or else this would be an unsolvable mystery and those don’t exist. Jack listened to Florian’s words, even as he found it more difficult to concentrate on them, as the amber liquid filled his glass. In spite of the discussion at the moment, Jack took the time to hold the glass up higher in the pale kitchen light and swirl the copper drink. Analyzing the clear cut glass and pristine conditions of the bottle even with layers of dust, Jack smirked, looking back briefly at Florian. Taking a swing, Jack turned on a dime to walk back to the other.

“Well, have you ever thought that maybe if you’re checking under rocks, you should get your hands a little more dirty?” Jack interrogated, stalking closer with amusement in his eyes as he looked down at Florian. While it only took a few strides to exit the kitchen, Jack took his sweet time taking small steps to Florian now. “Florian, when you’re investigating a case like this, not everyone does everything in the daylight. Everyone’s got secrets. I should know. It’s my fucking job to know!”

Jack set his drink down on the coffee table before leaning closer, placing one hand on the back of the couch behind Florian and the other grabbed the collar of Florian’s shirt.

“Detective, what I am going to need to know now is if you are serious about this case and you’re willing to get up to some things off-record.” Jack’s face was suddenly very serious. “Look, I want your help on this case, but if you’re not willing to bend backwards and forwards for some shady people doing heavily illegal shit, then you’re not helping me in this case. I absolutely know that you have yet to check some things despite all your searching. Hell, I know where to look but don’t think I will tell you shit if I think you’ll compromise my goal by being a goody two shoes.”

Jack glared for a moment before he released his collar and instead grabbed the back of his head.

“If you’re gonna be a good little boy for the station, that’s fine. Just don’t. Get in. My way. Detective.”

Jack’s breath was hot and heavy with whiskey and he stayed there with a scowl on his face with his face less than an inch from Florian’s. After a moment, Jack released the other, straightened himself, and pushed his hair out of his face. Swaying briefly, Jack flopped down on the couch beside his dog and Florian. Sitting with his legs spread out and staring up at the ceiling, Jack sunk into the couch. Taking a deep breath, Jack only managed to muster the energy to sit up and look at the crowded table as the massive head of Lola flopped onto his lap. With the loud, thumping of Lola’s happy tail, Jack scooped up the papers and began to shuffle through them with one hand and grabbed the glass of whiskey with the other.

“Alright detective, I’ll bite. Tell me what you’ve learned of this case so far while I go through these papers, will ya?” Jack mumbled, not looking up from the papers as he continued sipping. “And maybe, if you promise not to lock my ass up, I’ll share what I know.”

(sorry for short but this is the most ill probably be able to do this week. also enjoy jack being a little funky ig?)

The feeling of Jack grabbing the collar of his shirt caused Florian’s eyes to shoot open as one of his hands flew up and wrapped itself around the wrist of the man. His heart was beating rapidly as a million thoughts raced through the young man’s mind.

Did Jack plan to get his revenge on him? No, surely the man knew how stupid of a plan that was, he would be found way too easily. Then again, the man was drunk, while he hadn't seemed angry about their past before, maybe he had just been masking it? Maybe the man’s true intentions were coming out now.

Despite the fear and uncertainty he felt, Florian stayed put, he didn't move a muscle, didn't try to speak, his eyes just stayed trained on Jack, letting whatever was happening, happen.

Luckily for him though, there wasn't much happening, just Jack talking, his face serious and his alcohol tainted breath filling Florian’s nose. The brown-haired man actually found himself relaxing slightly, his worries about Jack’s intentions slowly quieting down as he listened to the man’s words, he was right, they both knew that, but Jack should also know that even if Florian wanted to dig deeper, he couldn't, as a police detective, he wasn't allowed to. Sure, it hadn't stopped him in the past but that was also part of why things had gone the way they had.

When the other man finally did let go of his collar, Florian began to let out a breath, not even realizing that he had been holding it this whole time, but that breath caught in his throat when Jack grabbed the back of his head. Florian’s eyes widened as his cheeks flushed red, Jack was so incredibly close to him now.

“If you’re gonna be a good little boy for the station, that’s fine. Just don’t. Get in. My way. Detective.”

As Jack finally did let go of him again and move away, the brown-haired man remained in the same position, still holding his breath as his eyes followed the movements of the other, feeling the couch sink a bit as Jack took a seat, their legs touching briefly before Florian finally seemed to regain control of his body and adjusting himself slightly, moving away from Jack as much as the couch allowed, which wasn't much at all with Lola taking up a large portion of it, but it was enough for him to not be touching Jack anymore.

Florian’s gaze had now dropped to the floor, looking at the crumb filled carpet, god, it was disgusting… How had he not noticed that before? He lifted his head slightly, looking around the apartment, despite the quick clean he had done before Jack’s arrival, it still looked like a mess in here. He really was stuck with this case, he had buried himself in it to the point where he had become blind to his surroundings and the state of it. It wasn't until Jack appeared, distracting him from the piles of papers on his coffee table and waking him up to see the train wreck his life had become. It wasn't the first time he'd buried himself in a case like this but usually there was no one there to see how bad it would truly get, but now Jack was here, sitting right in the middle of it all.

“Alright detective, I’ll bite. Tell me what you’ve learned of this case so far while I go through these papers, will ya? And maybe, if you promise not to lock my ass up, I’ll share what I know.”

The man sat in another moment of silence, this wasn't how he had expected things to go. He had thought this would be easy, that Jack would just cooperate and tell him what he knew but of course not, he had been an absolute idiot to think that. Now he only had two options, either sit here and let his old partner look through files that he was not supposed to have access to and then possibly go on to solve this case on his own, or Florian could tell him what he knew and maybe they could work on this case together.

The young man pushed himself up and out of the couch, walking back over to the window and opening it once again as he grabbed his pack of cigarettes and lit another one. With a sigh, the detective looked outside, blue eyes searching the empty streets once more before he finally spoke.

“Well, there was Eleanor Bennett, our first victim, a mean lady really, she didn't like other people much at all, neither did Prince, her little toy poodle who I think was the same age as Eleanor herself. She used to feed the birds down in the park near the station, I’d pass by her on my way to work usually, she would always look at me with this scowl as I walked by, she would soften a bit when I said good morning but then it would be the same thing the next time,” Florian started, pausing briefly to take a puff of his cigarette. Eleanor had become almost part of his routine for the past 2 years or so and for the first few months, it had felt odd to not have her glaring at him as he passed by her spot in the park while Prince barked at him.

Florian exhaled, letting smoke out of his lungs and watching as it danced out through his window, slowly fading into the night. Now was not the time to dwell on that, he hadn't even known the woman more than their somewhat daily interactions in the park.

“She was in her late sixties, husband died a couple of years back and they only had one child, a daughter who lives on the other side of the country. She used to be a hairdresser but retired 4 years ago. Eleanor had far from a good relationship with her neighbors, always getting in their business, complaining and so on. I did interview every one of her neighbors, some multiple times, and while none of them liked her, none of them seemed capable of murder, nor do I think any of them had strong enough motives to actually murder her, especially not in such a manner as our killer did.”

The young man made another pause, trying to collect his thoughts and figure out if he’d missed anything, if he had then it would at least be somewhere in the pile of papers, Jack would probably find it himself while looking through them.

“Then there was Gabriel Hart, the complete opposite of Eleanor and yet they both had the same brand carved into their skin. Now Gabriel we couldn't get all too much physical evidence from, took almost two weeks before his body was discovered. He was a college dropout and had somehow found his way into becoming a P.I, and from what I discovered he wasn't all that bad at it, but I'm guessing you would know more about that than me. He apparently had quite a messy childhood and had absolutely no contact with his family and with the few friends he did have, he would often go low contact for periods of time when investigating something, which is also why it took so long for someone to realize that something was wrong.”

By the time he was done speaking about Gabriel, Florian had finished his cigarette and flicked the butt out onto the empty streets below before shutting the window again. He walked back over to the couch, grabbing his cup of coffee and finishing what was left of it before walking into the kitchen to fill it up. As he yawned softly he thought about the case, trying to remember everything he knew about the journalist.

Florian sipped on his coffee as he walked back into the living room, stopping on the other side of the table and gazing down at the papers that littered it, not wanting to sit back down next to Jack right now.

“Then we have Xavier, our up and coming journalist, just in his mid-twenties and there's nothing really that sticks out about him. He was dedicated to his work and from what I can find, he knew Gabriel, they had each other's numbers but if they shared any texts, it's been completely wiped from their phones, our technicians haven't been able to recover anything at least, and if any paper trails existed, our killer did a good job taking care of that. But I do think that whatever the killer is trying to cover up is something they were both investigating, most likely together.”

The man looked over at the other, “As for Henry and Ellie, I'd assume you know just as much as me if not more. That's pretty much all I've got,” he said, shrugging his shoulders a bit, “So Xavier and Gabriel have a connection, Eleanor, as far as I know has absolutely none, and the only thing connecting Ellie and Henry, is you. Henry and Xavier also went to the same middle school but not at the same time so it's not really a connection if you ask me. There are other small coincidences like that but none of relevance, so please tell me, what have I missed?”

Jack was supposed to be reading the files in his hand- or at least, that was what he said he would be doing- but he ended up just watching Florian for the most part. His eyes darted between the papers, only briefly absorbing the information, and looking back at Florian. He was trying not to stare, but something was bothering him. Even in his growingly drunken state, Jack could pick up on some things as Florian spoke.

Florian’s face was somewhat flushed, maybe from the alcohol. Though it seemed a bit more sudden than that. Then, Florian had shifted away from Jack, but why? It was not like Jack had been too rough with him when he got mad. Finally, Florian got up off the couch and sat away from him. Had Jack made the man uncomfortable? Then why didn’t he say so goddamnit? Why was he so passive about the whole thing? Why couldn’t Florian be mad?

Jack had been rehearsing this scenario for a few years now (just a few). Now, all this hate and anger he had been forcing himself to feel towards his ex-friend just seemed.. misplaced? No, infuriating. Why didn’t his hands twitch or his mouth peel back in a scowl? Why wasn’t he silently glaring or holding back insults in his tone? Why couldn’t Florian validate this anger that had been festering after all these years? Jack just felt bad for yelling.

Florian had fucked up his life more than he knew and Jack wanted him to know that. Florian had run over his career and swerved to hit his well-being while only leaving alcohol in the carnage. Despite this, deep down, he felt he should be, but that he wasn’t really, mad. He did not even understand why but it just felt like he was forcing himself to be hateful and spiteful. He hated Florian for what he did, but Jack could not help but fear that he would let the other do it all again. Maybe that was why he felt bad for yelling?

Jack had been so distracted by his own thoughts that he had just zoned out on Florian and had almost heard none of what he said, finally snapping out of his daze as Florian asked a question. Jack had barely heard his question let alone the rest of what he said, too caught up in his own thoughts. Jack’s eyes dashed away from Florian, scanning the paper briefly before he could pull words, sentences, and a half-assed thought together.

“Well, obviously they had to have known something. Something they shouldn’t have,” Jack mumbled, squinting at the paper as the lines seemed fuzzy and blurry. “That’s where the rat burn came from, I’m guessing. If you’re gonna rat out someone, you get the bat or.. whatever the fuckin’ saying is..” Jack massaged the side of his head while slurring his words as Lola began licking the back of his hand which held the papers. Jack paid her no mind despite her concerns. “Is it a saying? I think it’s gotta be right?” Jack paused again, resting his chin on his palm and hunching to rest his elbow on his knee. Jack’s eyes lazily flicked to Florian. “I shouldn’ta yelled… I really damn shouldn’ta.” Then, he was laughing. He threw his head back a bit and stared at the ceiling and while this action would make you think it would be a loud and powerful cackle, it was nearly slightly and breathy. “You’re a.. you’re a funny guy, Florian. I feel bad for yelling! Ain’t that a weird thing? I normally don’t.. I usually..”

The laughing subsided as he just closed his eyes and released a long sigh. He was still for a moment, unmoving, almost unbreathing. It almost looked like he fell asleep. Slowly, he raised his hand up to his face and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He was quiet for a moment longer as he did this before sitting up.

“I had too many drinks before coming and more wasn’t a smart plan,” Jack muttered to himself before looking at the files. “You can get to bed. I’m just gonna look over the case files a bit more and I might have a plan in the morning.”

Jack was definitely drunk, way too drunk for the conversation they were trying to have. Florian watched as the man scrambled his brain for words. He had to give the man credit though, once he spoke he started out good, but it also wasn't long until he lost the thread, switching the subject of the conversation.

Florian watched the man in silence, sipping on his cup of coffee as he waited for the man to pick the thread back up and regain some focus on the case, after all, that was the important thing now. He didn't care about some saying, he cared about finally solving this damn case and right now, his only way forward in the case was sitting drunk on his couch and slurring about meaningless nonsense.

Their eyes met as Jack looked up at him, suddenly starting to talk about how he shouldn't have yelled at him? Sure, while Florian hadn't enjoyed it, God knows he had deserved it. If anyone had earned the right to yell at him, it was Jack. Had it been anyone else instead of Jack, Florian probably would have reacted stronger but it wasn't someone else, it was Jack. He couldn't be mad at him, Flo was the one who had ruined his life, not the other way around, and yet, despite all that, Jack was back in his apartment, all because Florian needed his help.

Hearing that Jack felt bad for yelling just felt strange. The brown haired man stood in silence, not sure what to say or do? Tell him it was okay? That wasn't usually what you said after someone yelled at you though. But how else was he supposed to respond? He fully believed he deserved for Jack to yell at him, no matter how uncomfortable it made him feel, he knew he deserved it after what he had done, but Jack didn't? It was just confusing.

It was almost a relief when Jack seemed to fall asleep sitting up. If the man was sleeping, that meant Florian didn't need to think of an answer, at least not for now.

Suddenly Jack started moving again though and Florian had to hold back a sigh. He just wanted to distance himself from this conversation, all he wanted was help to figure this case out, there was no need to start digging into their own past, especially not with the state Jack was in currently.

Hearing Jack telling him to go to bed both filled him with relief and worry. Relief that they could end this conversation, or well, it was more of a monologue from Jack’s side, so it was more so ending it before Florian had to reply and turn it into a conversation. Despite that though, it did worry him to leave the drunk man alone with all these files. Florian wasn't even supposed to have them at home to begin with, much less was he supposed to show them to anyone else and Jack knew that, if the other wanted to, he could easily cause trouble for him if he was left alone with it. He really had no clue what Jack was thinking or planning, he didn't know this new version of his old partner but on the other hand, Florian was exhausted.

With a slight nod, Florian gave in, deciding to trust the man for just one night. He would find out in the morning whether he was right in doing so or not.

“Alright, I’ll see you in the morning then. There isn't much in the kitchen but you can help yourself to what little there is if you want,” Florian told him. For a second the young man considered whether or not he should hide away what other alcohol was stored in the kitchen, not wanting the other man’s condition to worsen, but at the same time, he realized how bad it could look in the eyes of the other and decided to walk away instead, making his way towards his bedroom.

As the young man reached the door to his bedroom, he paused, glancing back at the drunken man and the large dog laying next to him. Was it really so wise to leave him alone in this state..?

With a soft sigh, Florian pushed the door to his bedroom open, shutting it softly behind him. He had to have some faith in Jack, after all they were going to work together on this case and if he would not trust Jack, then why should Jack trust him? Especially given their previous history. Jack had every reason to ignore him when he had asked for help, yet here he was.

The next hour or two, Florian spent tossing and turning in his bed. No matter what position he laid in, he couldn't get comfortable and despite his exhaustion, sleep refused to come to him, his mind racing with a million thoughts, and yet he couldn't make sense of a single one.

Eventually the man gave up, getting out of bed and pulling on a pair of sweatpants before exiting his bedroom, casting a quick glance at Jack before ducking into the bathroom, not wanting to bother the other.

Looking in the mirror, Florian was faced with a reflection that was not his own, the man in the mirror looked smaller and disheveled, yet it still carried the same features as himself. This was just further confirmation that this case was absolutely getting to him…

Quickly, the man stripped his clothes off and entered the shower, not bothering to wait for the water to heat up and instead letting the cold freezing water hit his body, momentarily chasing his exhaustion away.

One cold, and actually quite refreshing, shower later, Florian found himself wrapped with a towel around his waist, facing the mirror once again, shaving his stubble, cursing quietly when he accidentally cut himself before pressing a piece of cotton against the bleeding wound.

Despite his worries about Jack and his motives, it was somehow calming to have the man there, for a moment he was actually able to take his mind off the case and focus on his own wellbeing, something that he had obviously neglected.

Once finished with freshening himself up a bit, Flo made the short journey back to his bedroom, looking at the alarm clock and its bright neon numbers that shined at him from next to his bed, telling him that there was no use in trying to sleep now. He got dressed instead before coming back out of his bedroom and quietly making his way over to the kitchen where he got to work and started cleaning, trying to make as little noise as possible not wanting to bother Jack but also feeling too restless to sit down and pass time with a more silent activity, besides, the state of his apartment was embarrassing.

Before starting with the pile of dishes next to his sink, the man opened the kitchen window and lit a cigarette. Inhaling the bitter smoke as he pulled the sleeves of his shirt up before finally starting to tackle the dishes.

How long has it been since Florian went to bed? A while by now. Jack’s head felt like it had the weight of a cement block which his neck felt ill prepared to carry. On top of that, everything felt like static— fuzzy, loud, and disorienting— to the point where his eyes could hardly focus on the blurring words before him. Squinting, even the images looked weird. He absentmindedly reached for his glass thinking that maybe just a bit more “juice” would get him going when— shit— he remembered it was empty except for a small drop that fell slowly to his desensitized lips. He contemplated grabbing more booze from the kitchen while Florian could not stop him, but he couldn’t exactly waste all his trust just yet.

Looking back at the files before him, one of the images tucked under files seemed more distorted than before. Setting down the file, his fingers lingered there before scooping up and cradling the photo of his dead mentor. He sank back into the couch as he looked it over. The images of her mangled body were cold, desensitized angles as distant and unfeeling as always as if every body was just an object rather than a once living breathing person. There was a time when every picture seemed to capture a bit of her character, her strictness, her free-spirit, and her deep love. Maybe he was starting to turn crazy but he could have sworn the picture was moving.

“You look pathetic right now,” a familiar voice called out.

Jack sat up, looking around for the source of the sound. His chest felt heavy as if a great pressure was attempting to break through his rib cage. His hands were shaking but he just let out a breathy chuckle.

“Damn, now I’m really going crazy…”

“You’ve always been crazy.”

Ellie was looking right at him, her dead eyes bearing into him before her hand reached through the image and grabbed onto his wrist. Jack quickly grabbed onto her, attempting to pry himself free as he toppled the couch backwards in his shock and fear. He managed to tear the hand off, leaving deep scratches where the scars on his wrist were. Jack’s chest felt tighter as he scrambled back, now struggling to breathe.

“You’re just like your mom. Insane,” Ellie murmured, dredging up old wounds as her hand clawed out of the photo with her broken and bleeding arm following. “Especially after you lost dear old daddy, right?”

“Sh-Shut up,” Jack murmured softly, backing up to the wall in terror, not sure where his gun or his dog were as he looked around for some kind of aid. The bleeding and torn nails scraped against the floor trying to inch closer to Jack.

“Too crazy to ever take responsibility for your actions, right Jack?” Ellie’s face began pressing into the small square of the photo, attempting to squeeze through with her dead eyes staring at him the whole time. “You were supposed to meet me. You could have been there to save me, Jack.”

“It wasn’t— I couldn’t have— I—”

“It was your fault. It was all your fault.”

Jack finally woke up as soon as Lola began licking the side of his face. The massive dog was laying on top of him, crawling up to get closer to his face and lick him more aggressively. He was struggling to breathe with the additional weight of the dog let alone with the nightmare that plagued him. As Lola kept insistently licking him, Jack finally understood her intentions as he grumbled and shoved her off.

“I’m getting there, I’m getting there,” Jack growled, his hands searching around in his coat pocket before pulling out his pill container. Pouring out into his hand what looked to be a close-enough amount of pills, Jack downed them without liquid before looking to Lola with an “are you satisfied” look. Lola, of course, couldn’t respond, placing her head in his lap. “Ehh, you’re a good girl, Lola…”

After finally calming his breathing as he played with his dog’s ears, he could faintly hear the faucet going off in the kitchen. He tilted his head, trying to peer in on Florian, but just huffed and turned to the pile of files strewn across the table. Surely, he hadn’t been asleep for too long, right? Everything still looked messy as he had left it, but he attempted, though half-hazardously, to push the files into folders and folders into groups. He picked up the more recent filings on Henry and gave them possibly a fourth look over. The autopsy hadn’t been conducted yet, it would be a few more days or weeks unless someone were to put pressure on the team to perform it sooner, but the photos and write up were still helpful regardless. His head was still buzzing but he was able to come to one conclusion.

“Hey Florian,” Jack called out to the kitchen, his own volume not necessarily helping with his hangover. “When you get a sec, I think I have a small plan of action for our next steps so get your ass out here sooner rather than later, ‘kay? You might not like it, but it’s our best shot.”

(I’m still struggling on and Alice and Slicker update but enjoy this for now!!)