Buster and Clemmons burst into Allen's room, alarmed by his restless state. Allen was hunched over his laptop, his eyes glued to the screen, furiously typing away. His brow furrowed in concentration, oblivious to his brothers' entrance.

"Allen, what are you doing?" Clemmons asked, concern evident in his voice.

Allen didn't respond immediately, his fingers still flying across the keyboard as he scrolled through pages of information. Finally, he let out a frustrated sigh and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes wearily.

"Research," he muttered, his voice tense. "Trying to find any clue about Mia."

Clemmons exchanged a worried glance with Buster, who was standing silently beside him. Allen's anxiety was palpable, and it was clear he had been obsessing over Mia's disappearance.

"Allen, you need to take a break," Clemmons urged gently, reaching out to touch his brother's shoulder.

Allen shook his head, his gaze still fixed on the screen. "I can't. I need to figure this out. I need to find her."

Buster gestured frantically, trying to communicate with his eyes and gestures that Allen needed to calm down. But Allen was too focused on his mission to notice.

"I understand, but you've been at this for hours," Clemmons persisted. "You need to rest."

"I can't rest until I know Mia is safe," Allen replied firmly, his jaw clenched with determination.

Clemmons sighed, realizing he wouldn't be able to convince Allen to stop. "Okay, but promise us you'll take care of yourself. You can't help Mia if you wear yourself out."

Allen nodded absentmindedly, already diving back into his research. Buster let out a silent sigh of frustration, feeling helpless in the face of Allen's relentless pursuit. He exchanged a worried glance with Clemmons before silently leaving the room, hoping Allen would heed their advice before it was too late.

_____________________

Duke leaned back in his chair at home, phone pressed to his ear as Chief Wheeler's voice crackled through the line.

"Yo, Duke, just thought I'd give you a heads-up about Allen," Chief Wheeler said casually. "He's been at the station since last night, shredding through research like a madman. Dude's on a mission."

Duke raised an eyebrow, nodding as he listened. "Got it, Chief. Thanks for the update."

Freya, who had been listening in, looked concerned. 

" How long has he been there for?" She asked.

" I don't know. The chief never said." He picked the phone up again and dialed the Chief.

 "How long has he been there?" Duke asked as soon as Chief picked up the phone.

There was a pause on the other end before Chief Wheeler responded, "Since around two in the morning, bro. He's been in the zone, you know?"

"Thanks, Chief," Duke said gratefully. "Let him know we're here for him, okay?"

"Will do," Chief Wheeler assured him before they hung up.

Freya sighed, shaking her head. "That boy," she muttered. "Always so intense when it comes to his family."

Duke nodded in agreement. "Yeah, but it's because he cares so much. Let's just hope he doesn't wear himself out."

Freya stormed through the house, her voice echoing loudly as she called for her Clemmons. Buster was already down, in his peculiar ensemble of a pink nightgown, fluffy bunny slippers, and a head full of curlers. He was in the kitchen, making pancakes, though his appearance resembled more of a caricature than a morning routine.

"Clemmons! Get down here right now!" Freya bellowed, her hands on her hips as she surveyed the scene before her.

Clemmons, in contrast, emerged from his room in a classic night suit paired with a nightcap and a comically oversized sleeping mask that drooped over his face. He stumbled into the hallway, rubbing his eyes sleepily before blinking in confusion at his mother's stern expression.

"What's going on, Mom?" Clemmons asked, his voice think with sleep.

Freya gestured emphatically towards Buster, who was now balancing a stack of pancakes on a spatula, his bunny slippers making soft padding noises on the kitchen tiles. "Look at your brother, Clemmons! What in the world is he wearing?"

Clemmons stifled a laugh, trying to maintain his composure. "Uh, Buster, what's with the curlers, man?"

Buster shrugged nonchalantly. He pointed at his head with a questioning look, as if to ask if there was a problem.

Freya shook her head in disbelief. "Never mind that now. Do either of you have any idea how long Allen has been at the police station?"

Clemmons raised an eyebrow, the absurdity of the situation dawning on him. "Wait, what? Allen's been at the station all night?"

Freya nodded, her worry evident in her furrowed brow. "Yes, since two in the morning! Can you believe it?"

Clemmons removed his sleeping mask and nightcap, tossing them aside as he processed the information. "That's insane! What's he doing there?"

Freya sighed, crossing her arms. "Trying to track down Mia, of course. He's been glued to his computer, probably digging through every report and lead he can find."

Buster tapped Clemmons on the shoulder, gesturing with a questioning look towards the kitchen. "I think Buster wants to know if Allen's okay," Clemmons translated.

Freya nodded, her concern for Allen evident. "Yes, of course. But I'm worried he's pushing himself too hard."

Clemmons nodded in agreement. "Yeah, he needs to take a break. Maybe we should go down there and check on him."

Freya nodded gratefully. "Good idea. Let's go, boys. And Buster, lose the curlers."

Buster rolled his eyes playfully and began to remove the curlers from his hair while walking up the stairs to his room, while Clemmons followed his mother upstairs to change. It took a while for Buster to change, while Clemmons and Freya only took minutes.

When Buster finally emerged from his room, he had traded his usual attire for a surprising ensemble. He wore a pink tutu paired with his firefighter shirt, snug leggings, and to top it all off, a pair of high heels. Clemmons, who had been casually walking by, stopped dead in his tracks at the sight.

"What!?" Clemmons exclaimed, his eyes widening as he took in Buster's unexpected fashion statement.

Buster struck a pose, twirling gracefully in his heels. His mute expression seemed to say, "What? I thought it looked good!"

Clemmons shook his head, trying to process the sight before him. "Buster, what on earth are you wearing?"

Buster pointed at his outfit with a flourish, grinning mischievously. He seemed to enjoy the bewildered reaction he was getting from Clemmons.

Freya, passing by from the kitchen, did a double-take when she saw Buster. "Oh my! Buster, what's with the outfit?"

Buster gestured animatedly, seemingly explaining his sartorial choices.

Clemmons chuckled, unable to contain his amusement any longer. "Buster, you're going to start a whole new fashion trend with that getup."

Buster nodded enthusiastically, clearly pleased with the attention his outfit was garnering.

Freya sighed, shaking her head fondly. "Well, as long as you're comfortable, Buster. Just remember to put on some sensible shoes if you're going out."

A