You and Peralta had been paired up to solve a murder case just about a month ago. The death of a dad, leaving his wife and six year old daughter to fend for themselves. It was an obviously heart-wrenching case, but anyone in the precinct had surely seen worse.

But when the mother had come up to Jake, that little girl clinging to her leg, looking up at him with big eyes - her name had been Sadie, she told Jake, and she had choked out a meek little "I really miss papa".

That was more than enough to remind Jake about his own dad, how Roger had left when he was just seven, and that little girl seemed to mess him up real bad. Before he knew what he was doing he had promised to solve the murder.

Now, that's where he broke the number one rule of dealing with a victim's family member - "Never make promises, I know, I know!" Jake had grumbled to you before you proceeded to verbally whoop his ass.

With every day that passed where there were no new leads, no new evidence, Jake was loosing his cool. He made a promise and he had to fulfill it and hell, he was meant to be the best detective ever (his words, to be clear) and the fact that he couldn't figure this out was tearing him up inside.

It was a late night at the precinct when Jake had begged you to meet him in the evidence locker, and you did, only to be met by a mini replica of the crime scene and the very, very strong smell of ketchup.

"Hey, would you mind lying down there, and I'll squirt some ketchup all over - it's the blood, by the way - and then I can..." Jake started, his voice overly cheery with a hint of I'm-spiraling-into-madness, before trailed off at the look on your face, a sheepish smile creeping onto his lips. "Uhh... pretty please?"

Yeah, he'd lost his shit, hadn't he?