Race scratched his butt, getting all the itches out while he walked over to the door. The mailman was awaiting on the other side to provide him his daily junk mail, and Race did not want to have an itchy butt for it.

Also scratching a bit more of the... front, maybe he needed to change his underwear. It was very itchy in the kingdom today.

Then he uncomfortably realized that was disgusting and he was about to be grab mail, so he hand sanitized, opened the door, grabbed the mail, and locked it.

The mailman, mailwomen? Was always trying to Segway ask him out. So Race was cutting her out of his life. Sure, at first the friendly chatter was fun. But after hearing the failed relationships of Susans life, even if he was interested he would've steered clear. It needed to end now, she needed to move on and finally ask out the cute boy that she's been talking to at her mail room.

Race sighed shifting through his mail, lots of junk mail, a few coupons, he gets a few letters from Crutchies organization giving him a fun sticker pack for being a "platinum member." Granted the stickers were genuinely pretty cool. One junk mail from his dentist.

Then a neat crisp letter written in a calligraphic font, just lying there on the top.

Race frowned, he wasn't expecting any letters. No return address, and it was addressed directly to him. He most definitely didn't recognize the hand writing either.

It was probably just some organization trying to get his money.

Opening the letter up, a small note was folded up in half, an unnecessary feat since the envelope was big enough for the letter.

Furrowing his eyebrows Race opened up the letter. Just a short few sentences stared back at him.

From the darkness, I seek you. From the light I hide. Whenever you lie, you'll die.

-your secret admirer

Race gasped when he read it, not believing his eyes. He reread it, checked the back, looking inside the envelope. Checking for where the joke was, the point where he would open it up and it would say, "just kidding! This is Jack telling you to do your homework."

Race held his hand over his heart, it pounded against his ribcage, threatening to break loose and leave his body. Where it would go, Race hasn't the faintest clue. But Race knew once it was gone it was never coming back.

His old habits of mouth breathing came back, and he was gasping for air before he could realize he was panting. Oxygen was burning up in his blood faster and faster and wow the room was spinning.

Tee-ring, and toppling in circles, Race put his hand against the wall and slid down to gather his bearings.

Jack wasn't home, which posed a problem. Because Race could really use Jack right now.

His vision was starting to blur again, which was the worst. Once his vision started to blur, he would loose balance and couldn't walk. Not that he could walk well right now with the ominous threat in the air, taking him back to so many years before.

What did the letter mean? Why would someone write that? He smacked his brain, attempting to restart it, so it would do something useful for once in its life and do something. Tell him that he pissed off the wrong people, won the wrong bet.

But he's been staying away from casinos lately, doesn't have the money to gamble and pay for dance.

He needed to talk to Jack.

Fumbling with his phone, Race was glad he had Face ID to open it, because Race wasn't sure he could put in a passcode, or keep his thumb from shivering enough to open it.

He looked down and all of the contact apps blurred into one green smudge. He clicked on one randomly, and was disappointed to find text messages.

Suddenly he was glad he had pinned Jacks up first. Clicking on it he tried to write as comprehensible message as possible. But it came out as an almost drunken text.

Race cried and held his knees up to his body in despair.

Then, it seems the drunken text was his sanction because Jack was calling.

Race answered eagerly, putting his phone done on speaker so he didn't rattle the phone.

"Race what's wrong?"

Race swallowed on his saliva to try and even out his voice, "can you come here Jack?"

"Yes of course, I'm on my way, what's wrong? Don't get off the phone."

He was worried Race was... doing that again. Race giggled because that was funny, "I'm just scared."

Jack heaved a sigh of relief, "thank God, I'm almost here."

Race was glad Jack patrols in the area.

Race inched forward and sneaked a peak outside to see if Jack was there. Only to find the two middle school boys laughing outside his house.

Race immediately felt stupid. Of course it was them. They weren't funny. Probably watched their first horror movie and thought it would be funny.

Race flipped them off from inside the house and willed his heart to calm down.

Great he called Jack for nothing.

Now Jack was gonna storm in all worried.

Race hated his neighbors.

True to Race's thoughts, Jack burst into the door looking around wildly, and immediately crouching down to a madly embarrassed Race on the ground.

"Race! What's wrong, what's going on?" Jack breathed heavy, obvious he ran.

Race sighed, "nothing I just... got freaked out."

Jack frowned, "old memories?"

Race stood silent for a second before nodding, "the worst memories."

Jack rubbed his shoulder sympathetically and walked around the house.

Race slipped the note into his pocket. No need to make a scene.

Jack sighed and rubbed at his hair, "well Davey's in the car, and I need to finish my patrol so how about you join me and him."

Race blushed, "no no I'm okay."

"It's either that or I stay and risk getting fired."

Race pouted, Jack always gave the worst options, "fine I'll go. Tell Davey to start up the Tick... Tick... Boom! Soundtrack."

"Wouldn't have it any other way." Jack said ruffling his hair.