"How the hell did he escape, i assigned three fucking officers to him!"

PJ snarls, pushing himself up from his seat and nearly knocking the chair to the floor. The officer lowers his head, his shoulders moving up and down in a shrug. He seemed to really not know, but was truly dissapointed at his mistake.

PJ sighs and walks towards the door quickly, before he can close it Mark speaks up.

"Excuse me i'm still cuffed here."

Mark huffs annoyedly, simply earning a glare from the Brit.

"I know, you are going to stay there until I get back."

The brown haired man responds simply, slamming the door shut, and locking it. Mark sighs and slouches in his chair, tugging at the cuffs on his wrists before releaxing his arms, trying to adjust somehow so the metal didn't dig into his skin, but finding no way to do so.

At least an hour had to have past since PJ left, and Mark was about to die from boredom. He had taken to counting the tiles on the wall, having to do something so the boredom didn't drive him mad.

26...27...28...29...

Why the hell did this have to happen to him, why couldn't he have just lived a normal life with Jack.

30...31...32...

However normal did equate to boring. He supposed this was an interesting life, whether it was good or bad however had still yet to be seen, at the moment it mostly seemed bad. He was stuck in some stupid interrogation room, he had no idea where his boyfriend was, and frankly he missed him.

33...34...35...

He missed the man's smile, the way his ocean blue eyes lit up whenever he got excited. He missed the man's bright green hair, always a mess, always making Mark want to run his fingers through it.

Mark is shook from his thoughts as the door opens with a small creak, and a man in an officers uniform walks in, his hat down to cover his face as he closes the door behind him and sits. Mark says nothing, raising an eyebrow at the man, who eventually removes his hat, and Mark smiles.

"Well I'll be a son of a bitch...."

Mark mutters as the man before him smiles back, the man had black hair, and the familiar black beard to match, it was Ken, disguised flawlessly as a cop.

"Impressed?"

Ken questions in his deep gruff voice, a sense of accomplisnment hidden in his voice.

"Very much so. So... you getting caught, that was part of some big plan?"

Mark questions, already knowing the answer but asking the question anyway. The black haired man nods, his smile never once fading.

"That it was, some big plan to get that cop PJ to the warehouse. God Sean just can't stop teasing that poor man."

Ken chuckles. Mark laughs quietly before a thought hits him, and his eyes move to the camera that sat in the corner of the room.

"Disabled."

Ken says his eyes following Mark's to the camera as well, his smile growing a bit more, he was clearly proud of himself. The red haired man releases a sigh of relief at hearing that, a small smile curling his lips.

"That's good... but you shouldn't stay long...."

Mark says hesitantly.

"I have no idea when PJ is coming back."

Mark finishes, he truly didn't want the man to leave, but of course he knew he would have to, in order to avoid being caught. Ken nods in agreement before simply leaning back in his chair boredly.

"So Ken... Do you actually know where Sean is?..."

Mark finally asks the question that had been bothering him. Ken smiles slightly and shakes his head.

"Not anymore I don't... I helped him get out of the country and he hasn't told me where he went.... just in case."

Ken replies with a smile, his brown eyes boring into the red haired man. Mark sighs and nods, his hand trying to go up and push through his hair out of habit, only to be reminded his hands were in cuffs. Ken's eyes follow Mark's as he looks down at his hands, the black haired man's smile drops slightly as he pulls out a small bobby pin.

"I don't have a key to those, but I could help you pick the lock."

Ken says quietly. Mark shakes his head and holds out his cuffed hands, silently asking for the pin, which the man hands to him. Mark jiggles the pin around in the lock, and soon has the cuffs off, and layed on the table next to him, rubbing his sore wrists.

"Not bad... I'm surprised you know how to do that."

Ken smiles, seeming genuinely impressed. Mark shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly, a small smile on his face as he looks at the man across from him.

"You learn a few things on the force... besides it's not my first time being locked up."

Mark simply states, it not being a big deal to him. Ken raises an eyebrow at the man.

"By police?"

Ken questions with a slight tilt of his head. Mark shakes his head slightly.

"No, I haven't been locked up by police before... Just random people here and there..."

Mark mutters, his voice softening at the end as his thoughts go back to all the times he'd been locked up in some way or another, before his memories bring him back to Felix. The way the man had looked at him, spoke to him. Felix's voice had dripped with anger the last time they talked, he truly hated Mark, the one who once considered him a good friend.

"Fischbach."

Ken says for the third time, finally snapping Mark out of his thoughts. The red haired man shakes his head, clearing the last of those saddening thoughts before looking at the black haired man again, his smile faded.

"Hey you ok? I lost you there for a second."

Ken says, genuine worry lining his voice as he spoke. Mark runs a hand through his hair out of habit and nods clenching his eyes shut for a second to push away an image of the Swede he used to call friend.

"Yah I'm fine.... Just thinking I suppose..."

Mark mutters under his breath, his breathing having become a bit heavier. Ken watches him and opens his mouth to say something but is cut off at a buzzing in his pocket, he pulls out a cell phone and looks down at it before sighing and standing up, pushing the hat over his hair, and covering his face once again.

"I gotta go... any last questions before I do?"

Ken asks the man. Mark thinks for a second, before finally asking a question, he wasn't sure if the man had an answer to.

"When will I get to see Jack again...?"

He finally asks, his brown eyes looking up at the man. Ken sucks in a soft breath, seeming to think.

"Soon..."

He says simply after a fairly long silence. And with that Ken walks out, grabbing the cuffs that sat on the table as he does. The door closing behind him and locking with a click.

Mark sighs, alone once again, thankful to at least have the cuffs off. Just as Mark was about to get lost in his thoughts PJ enters once again, his breathing heavy, and anger clear in his eyes.

Mark raises an eyebrow at the Brit who, almost imediatley after walking in noticed the cuffs missing from Mark's hands.

"Where are your cuffs..."

PJ growls glaring daggers at Mark. Mark thinks quickly before responding with a shrug.

"They were hurting me so an officer took them off."

The red haired man replies nonchalantly, keeping his voice neutral. PJ narrows his eyes at the man, distrusting.

"Which officer?"

He asks crossing his arms over his chest.

"I don't know, I didn't ask their name."

Mark mutters annoyed, lying had become like his second nature. PJ simply sighs, clearly too exhausted to ask any more questions.

"So can I go home now or what?"

Mark finally asks with a huff, his brown eyes glaring at the brown haired man annoyedly. PJ sighs, seeming to think about keeping the man at the station but finally just sighs and gestures for Mark to go ahead.

"Fine... but we'll be watching you Fischbach."

PJ mumbles softly, just loud enough for Mark to hear.

"That's comforting..."

The red haired man mutters sarcastically before walking out and soon climbing into his own car, driving off.

After a long drive he makes it home and walks up to his front door which stops him, his door was already open, when he remembered locking it before he left. He sucks in a breath and quietly makes his way back to his car, digging through his trunk before he came up with a small hand gun. He was always prepared.

He slowly enters his house, careful to not make any noise, and stops as he listens. The house lay silent, but if Mark listened close enough someone could be heard rummaging through his kitchen. Mark quietly creeps along the wall, his gun at the ready before jumping into the kitchen, aiming the barrel of his gun at whoever was in his house.

"Freeze!"