Jack was tired in the way that sleep could never truly fix, a chronic fixation of drowsy eyes and endless nights filled with worry. Every corner was a dead end, every break was a fluke and every one of Jacks dreams was dying along with the hope to find his brother.

He rubbed at his eyes, the Florescent lights starting to give him a headache. He and Davey have been interviewing everyone Race new from his dance friends to the guy he got tacos from down the street. Every single lead died before Jack could even get a chance to follow through. Buried right next to Race's dead boyfriend.

Jack had shown up at the funeral, unsurprisingly it was a closed casket. Jack briefly remembered Race mentioning Morris Delancey.

If Oscar loves anyone more than me, it's his brother Morris.

Jack had never liked Oscar, but he had laughed and said how it was ironic that was exactly how they were.

He paid his respects. The man was a massive jerk and Jack would never forgive him for the treatment to his brother, but there was no use in damning the dead. 'Sides, the man didn't deserve to die.

Nobody deserves to die like that.

Now Jack was working double time, his boss had respectably allowed this to be Jack's main job, not like he'd do anything else anyway.

The case became the air he breathed and filled his brain constantly until he choked on the words in his head.

He finally knew what it was like to be like Race, a thousand different words in his head floating around consuming his thoughts until they became him entirely.

Spot was looking at him concerned over the table, which might have been fair. He may have been Race's best friend, and maybe more once upon a time, but he was Jack's friend first.

Spot reached over and brushed out Jacks mucky greasy hair, which had started falling over his eyes.

"I'm sorry Jack," Spot said, truly apologetic. "I haven't spoken to Race in a while, last I knew everything was pretty much okay."

Jack squeezed his eyes tight, hoping to trap any tears before they fell out, spotting the clean white sheet.

"That's okay, thanks for coming here anyway Spot." Jack whispered, his throat started to hurt from talking so much, which was weird because he's never talked so little in his life.

Spot pursed his lips and reached forward, "it's okay to cry. Lord knows I did when you first reached out to me."

Jack nodded, though the words were flimsy and ignored. Jack might cry if he had the time, but if Jack ever wanted to see his brother again, crying would only delay it further than the already impossible time it's taken.

"Bye Spot," Jack croaked, opening the door for Spot to finally leave Jack to his misery.

Spot got up and left the interrogation room.

Davey quickly filed in after spot, looking for the little notes and sentences they had gotten, basically nothing.

"I can't believe it, talked to every damn person Race knows and not a single lead." Jack frowned, pushing forward his papers.

"Well... there's one left," Davey said.

Jack frowned, "who?"

"Albert," Davey raised an eyebrow, "Race's best friend, also known as the first person we should have spoken to."

Jack groaned, has his life really come to talking do DaSalvia? 

"Fine, send him in," Jack leaned back against the cool metal chair while Davey grabbed Albert.

It wasn't that he disliked Albert, it was that Race was his youngest brother and always the most... emotional. Jack truly did not think that Albert helped Race in that department in anyway. Also he liked giving all of Racer's friends a hard time, and Albert was the only one that seemed to take him seriously which was always a bit of an ego boost.

Albert walked in, a bit hunched. His eyes were puffy and red, and his lips were turned slightly down like he was struggling to keep them up. Jack winced, he supposed he wasn't the only one suffering from Race's disappearance.

"Hey Jack," Albert said, sitting down. "I don't really think I can help you, but... if I can I want to."

Jack nodded along absentmindedly. His head hurt and his chest hurt more, like a jackhammer just jabbing into it and every time someone told him more bad news it vibrated a little deeper.

"When was the last time you saw Race," he spoke softly, louder than a whisper but certainly not his normal volume.

"When the uh... when the letter arrived." Albert stumbled.

When the first letter arrived. That felt like a million years ago.

"Did Race ever talk to anyone new or act weird before his kidnapping." Jack said uselessly, he knew the answers yet he hoped they would change.

"No, he seemed completely normal up until the letter, but you know all that." Albert filed in awkwardly. Jack shrugged, he was so tired. It couldn't have been later than three and he was already ready to curl into bed and sleep for the rest of his life.

Jack rubbed his eyes, this was getting nowhere. He needed to go home and get some rest.

"Okay Albert, just one last question. Did anything weird happen when you last saw Race." He asked, picking up his notes to put them away. Maybe he could search Race's home with forensics. It could take months to register DNA but if they could find a finger print somewhere it could be a lead.

"Not really, nothing expect for Oscar, the weird pervert at the diner and the letters." Albert said getting up.

Jack paused, the papers slipped out of his hands and he rushed over to Alberts side of the table, knocking into it and busting his hip.

"Weird pervert at the diner? What weird pervert." He rushed a mile a minute. "Davey get in here!"

Davey ran in, "what's going on?"

"Nothing! There was just this guy hyped up on a bunch of drugs acting all weird at the diner talking to Race and stuff. Called him beautiful and all that weird crap." Albert spluttered, inching away from Davey and Jack who were quickly crowding around him.

"Do you have any credit card numbers? Any records?" Davey asked, grabbing a notepad.

"No, the guy always paid in cash. It was just the typical druggie." Albert said standing up to meet them eye to eye.

Jack didn't want to get his hopes up for a lost cause, but he remembered Race telling him what happened, he remembered thinking it was weird, and it was the biggest lead they had.

"Would you be able to point him out in security footage?" Davey asked, and Jack wanted to kiss him and twirl him around. He was a genius, yes! The security footage. If they could get a clear picture they could run Face ID.

Albert smiled slightly, pulling into the mood, "yeah! It'll be easy, he sat at the same booth most times."

"Then what are we waiting for!" Jack shouted, grabbing his coat.

They had a lead.