It was a rainy, gloomy day in the NYPD office. Mark is found in his office, his hat off and a frustrated grimace on his face. A glass of whiskey rested near him as he stared at an open homicide file on his desk.

“God damn it..” Mark grunted as he roved at the evidence photos carefully— as if the answer would magically pop out to him the longer he analyzed. He didn’t realize his subconscious muttering until the sound of his door clicked open.

“..don’t come in, I’m working—“ He begins, looking up to see who arrived. Although, the words die in his mouth.

“Captain? W..what’s up?”