Mark was left alone in the interrogation room, a muffled screaming heard through the door as PJ yelled at the officers, clearly angry, telling them to track the phone. As though he thought finding out where Jack had dumped it would lead him closer.

Mark once again thought it was a ridiculous Idea, but of course he didn't vocalize that. Simply letting them do what they did, simply enjoying the game Jack had laid out for them.

The door opens again after about ten minutes and PJ gestures for Mark to stand up, he had calmed down considerably however anger still shone slightly in his green eyes. Mark stands up and follows after the man.

"Where are we going now?"

Mark sighs as PJ climbs into one of the cop cars outside and Mark follows suit. PJ doesn't respond and simply starts the car, his green eyes not glancing at Mark once. As they drive PJ turns the sirens on and begins driving at an alarming speed, Mark clutching the seat tightly.

"PJ, what the hell are you doing?"

Mark growls, annoyed at the man's silence. PJ finally sighs, slowing the car slightly, but still way over the speed limit.

"We tracked his phone, so we are going to find it, try and find some clues as to where he might go."

PJ finally responds, his voice a quiet mutter, nearly drowned out by the blaring sirens.

"That's not an emergency... Why do you have your sirens on?"

Mark questions, feeling as though he might go deaf from the loud noise. PJ smirks slightly and simply shrugs his shoulders, though he didn't' look over at the red haired man.

"So we can get there fast."

He says simply, seeming to enjoy the quick speed at which the vehicle moved.

"That's not a good enough reason..."

Mark mutters under his breath, his voice fully drowned out by the deafening sirens. Soon they arrive at what Mark supposed was where the phone was discarded. It wasn't a busy part of town, in fact it was very empty, but Mark followed after PJ who walked quickly, his eyes focused on his phone where Mark assumed he had a location.

They turn down an alley way, a dark place that frankly gave Mark the chills, though he didn't show it, keeping his face an emotionless void.

"Here."

PJ stops in front of a large dumpster. Mark raises an eyebrow examining the dumpster and resisting the urge to plug his nose.

"So what you're going to dumpster dive?"

Mark questions a small amused smile on his face. PJ shoots a glare at him before sighing and nodding ever so slightly. Mark holds back his laughter as PJ removes his Jacket, simply letting a small smirk sit on his lips. PJ tosses his Jacket at the red haired man, who normally would have been annoyed, simply catches it watching while his grin grew.

PJ hops up so he his body hangs over the dumpster and his arms dig through, the stench clearly almost making him gag. Mark stands back before he gets an idea, an idea he shouldn't have acted on, however he couldn't help himself. He quietly walks forward until he stood directly beside the man's hunched over form. The red haired man slightly nudges the man forward, until the Brit topples fully into the large dumpster, and this time, Mark can't contain his laughter. Mark, who was normally a polite man, had been influenced by Jack within the past several months, and that wasn't always a good thing.

He laughs as PJ climbs out, his clothes stained with grease and grime and his face contorted in rage.

"Jeez PJ, I thought you were garbage before, but this is low, even for you."

Mark laughs, simply earning a glare from PJ. The Brit says nothing and simply holds up a cellphone, instantly recognizing it as Jack's. Mark rolls his eyes and walks forward, looking over the brown haired man's shoulder as he turns the phone on.

"Great you got a garbage phone, bravo."

Mark mutters sarcastically looking at the lit up screen. The lock screen was a picture of Mark and Jack, smiles on their faces, and their eyes lit up happily. The red haired man smiles at the picture as PJ simply rolls his eyes, unlocking the phone, and seeming surprised when there wasn't a password.

Once the phone is unlocked Mark bursts into laughter once again, clutching his sides as they begin to ache. The phones background was a picture of the green haired man, a large, teasing smile on his face, his blue eyes dancing with amusement, and his hand up flipping the camera off. PJ growls at the picture but mostly ignores it beginning to search through the phone and leaving Mark to laugh himself silly.

Soon PJ gets to the contacts and scrolls through. Mark, having controlled his laughter, looks over his shoulder once again. The Irish man didn't' have many contacts. And Mark read each in his head as he scrolled by, chuckling internally at a couple of them.

Markimoo
Work
Pizza Hut
Chinese

None seemed out of place, except one, which was simply labeled:

Super-Secret Contact.

Mark rolls his eyes as PJ clicks into it, was he really going to believe a charade like that.

"Don't roll your eyes at me Fischbach."

PJ mutters, somehow having noticed the man's eye roll.

"I know it sounds stupid, but you never know."

The British man explains himself simply before clicking 'call' on the contact. The phone rings quietly against his ear as he impatiently waits. After a minute PJ's own phone in the pocket of his jacket, which Mark still held, plays a simple tune. Mark pulls it out and the caller ID said Unknown Number, though Mark knew exactly who it was, the number memorized in his head.

He answers and holds the brown haired man's phone against his own ear.

"Alright you called yourself, now what?"

Mark speaks into the phone, earning a glare from PJ who was on the other end from Jack's discarded phone. PJ ends the call and closes the phone angrily, seeming to resist the urge to throw it down the alley.

"Dammit.... He's always one step ahead. How the hell did he even get my number?"

The Brit snarls to himself, his fist clenching around the phone in his hand. Mark holds back a laugh, but can't stop the smirk forming on his face.

"PJ, to him this is a big game, you're really surprised he'd do something like this? Besides you said it yourself he's a good hacker, maybe even the best, it's not surprising he was able to get your number."

Mark responds, evident in his voice that a laugh threatened to escape. PJ glares at him for what had to be the hundredth time that day.

"Shut it Fischbach."

PJ mutters under his breath. The Brit grabs his jacket roughly from Mark and walks to the car once again, the red haired man following at his heels. Once they are inside, PJ speeds them back to the station.

About an hour passes and Mark is left in the interrogation room while the British investigator dealt with whatever he was doing. Soon enough the red haired man is released and is told he can return home.

"I'm getting sick of that room."

Mark grumbles as he pushes past the officer that let him out. Once Mark is out in the main room and about to leave, his brown eyes land on a plastic bag sitting on the nearby desk, the bag contained Jack's black cellphone, and was clearly marked for evidence.

Mark tells himself to just walk out, but it seems as though his body moves on autopilot, he shoots a few glances around to make sure no one was looking and grabs it, quickly stuffing the bagged phone into his pocket and rushing to his car.

Once Mark returns home he sighs staring at the phone in front of him. He felt guilty for taking it, but also felt like he needed too. He clicked the phone on, simply staring at the picture for the lock screen. The picture always made Mark smile, it made him think about how happy their relationship was.

Soon after simply examining the picture he opens the phone and smiles at the background, at Jack's practical joke. Of course the man would make a fool of an officer like that, it was just like him to do so.

After looking through the entire phone he ends up in the contacts, though he didn't know why, there was nothing. Just him and some food places.

As Mark looks closer though he notices the number for 'Pizza Hut'. It seemed off. Mark wasn't' one to memorize fast food places, however he and Jack, mostly Jack, ordered from there a lot, and the number kind of stuck, but this was the wrong number. The numbers were similar, but a couple numbers weren't correct.

He clicks into it and after a slight hesitation dials it, a weird feeling twisting in his gut. After two rings a monotone, male, voice answers. A slight excited undertone barely noticeable in his voice.

"Sean??"

The voice questions quickly, as though he was hesitant to speak. Mark narrows his eyes slightly, having not heard the voice before.

"No... Who is this?"

Mark asks quietly. The voice goes silent, seeming as though he wanted to hang up.

"I could ask the same question...."

The monotone voice asks quietly, seeming curious to know who had Jack's phone.

"I'm Mark... now who is this, how do you know Sean?"

Mark asks again, his voice showing a slight annoyance.

"Mark... Mark Fischbach?"

The voice mutters, almost inaudible.

"Yah... Who are you?"

Mark asks for the third time, his voice a soft growl now.

"Mark... I'll explain everything later, but you need to meet me."

The voice responds after a long silence, his voice quickened as though he was slightly excited once again.

"Why should I trust you?"

Mark snarls quietly, distrusting towards this person who hadn't even told his name. The line goes silent for a full minute, before the voice speaks again, what he says makes Mark's eyes widen.

"Because I know where Sean is."