The door to Tim's club was kicked open with a loud bang, shattering the silence and scattering dust bunnies everywhere. Mark stepped inside, allowing his eyes to accustom to the dim light, before switching on a small flashlight attached to his key ring.

Good thing James doesn't know I'm going this. He'd fuck it up royally. Mark panned the light across the room. The news report had mentioned two bodies being found, but he was more intrigued by the state in which Patrick's had been found. The lack of a head told him that someone had finished Patrick off in a big way, not that there was much left of him once he and James had concluded their 'fun' with the guy.

The news item had mentioned shell casings and Cooper had mentioned something about he and Patrick being unarmed during the latter stages of their brawl. That meant that someone else had to be carrying, and he had a good idea who it was, having seen a gun in the possession of one Tom Hardy on several occasions.

But why would the fucker come back here? The work was done. There was no reason to..

Mark paused in mid-thought when the beam of his light caught something metal in the far corner of the room.

"Interesting." He mumbled, keeping the spot illuminated while he walked across the floor, still tacky with dried blood. He found what he was looking for under a table, almost completely concealed by a tarp hanging down. If the room was better lit, Mark probably would've missed it so it was no surprise to him that the police, with their huge searchlights, had.

Mark put on a pair of black gloves and carefully extracted the weapon. It was a thirty-eight, the same kind of gun he'd heard Tom boast about owning, but whether it was the same gun, he wasn't sure. Odds are it was, but unless it was hunting rifles, Mark was no expert on the subject.

So you did come back, eh Hardy? Still don't explain much.

After finding the gun, it looked more and more like Tom had gone back into the club and pumped two shots into Patrick's skull, obliterating it. The question was why? As Mark looked around the club, something stared nagging at him. Something about the whole fucked-up situation was more fucked up that it should've been, not that it wasn't already. Mark tiptoed around the bar, looking at anything and everything. After years of being with James, he knew not to overlook any small detail. He scanned the bar itself, with several bloody nails still attached to a beam where they'd tried unsuccessfully to nail Patrick, to the corner where they'd torn first the clothes, then the flesh from his body, to the crime scene...

Something's not right... fuck!

The story said that police had recovered two bullets from the crime scene, but on the floor were three cards that marked the location of shell casings. That meant that three bullets had been fired from the gun he now held in his hand. But where was the third bullet? Who had fired it? Obviously, someone had to since guns usually didn't go off by themselves and the only other person in the room was in no condition to do anything.

Mark's gaze suddenly flicked toward the door when he heard the sound of an approaching vehicle. Quickly snapping off the light, he ducked into the office held by the late Tim Wolfe and scrambled behind the desk; not an easy fit considering Mark's size.

...

Detectives Tracy Smothers and Brad Armstrong, a combined twenty-one years in the Homicide division, had been assigned to investigate what some were calling 'one of the most gruesome murders the city had seen in years'.

"I don't mind telling you partner that this place gives me the creeps," Smothers stated.

"I've seen a lot o' shit over the years, but that corpse damn near made me puke," Armstrong agreed "How could someone do that to another human being?"

"Whoever did that is one sick motherfucker, that's for sure. The chief wants us to comb the scene again for that missing bullet."

"Fuck... if the boys in blue couldn't find the damn thing, what makes him think we'll be able to?"

"At least it saves us from having to listen to Warshovski's vacation stories again." Smothers grabbed two flashlights from the glove compartment and handed one to his partner.

"Yeah. How that guy lives the way he does on a cop's salary is... what the fuck was that?" Armstrong's head whipped around when he heard a loud bang.

"I dunno. It came from the club." In seconds, Smothers was out of the cruiser and running toward the door, his gun already out. Armstrong followed close behind, cursing at his younger partner's speed. "Rookie," he moaned.

The banging was caused by the door that Mark had kicked open. He'd bent it enough that it wouldn't close properly and a strong gust of wind had slammed it against the outside wall.

"On three." Armstrong knew what his partner was going to do and he quickly unholstered his own weapon. A nod of agreement, then Smothers began the count on his fingers.

When the third finger was raised, the cop pulled the door open and flattened himself against it. As soon as they realized that no one was shooting at them right away, Smothers stepped inside followed by his senior officer, both of them with guns at the ready.

They quickly checked out what appeared to be a deserted crime scene.

"Nobody here." Smothers eased down the adrenaline a little.

"Someone was." Armstrong shone his light on the floor. There was a large red footprint in the middle of the puddle of sticky blood and it lead in the direction that Mark had gone to find Tom's gun.

"But who? Forensics?" Smothers asked

"Nah... they may be dumb, but they ain't that stupid. Someone was here snooping around for something."

From where he was hiding under the desk, Mark heard every word and cringed. So much for gettin' in and out without being spotted.

The two cops followed the trail of bloody footsteps to the corner.

"You think the perp found what he or she was looking for?" Smothers asked

"Who knows." Armstrong had just lifted the tarp to peek under the table when he heard a rustling noise coming from the other side of the club.

"Freeze! Police!" Smothers yelled.

...

Cooper felt really out of place just sitting in the Hardy's kitchen. He really did. But he wasn't leaving yet. He needed to get this shit straightened out with Jeff so they could all just focus on finding Tom. Of course, that was going to be easier said than done. Matt had taken Jeff into another room to calm down, and the older of the two remaining Hardys had told Cooper to be gone by the time he came out or there would be hell to pay.

Like I'm scared of him. Fuck, he don't intimidate me. Cooper knew Matt meant business, but unfortunately for Matt, he meant business too. And there was no way Matt was going to intimidate him into leaving before he was ready to. If this night doesn't end with a fist fight between me and him, that will be shocking as hell.

His phone ran really loudly suddenly, startling him him a little bit. The last time he had checked, his phone had been on vibrate. Fucking Connor must have been messing with it again...at least he didn't change the ringtone to a Miley Cyrus song again. I would have had to rip out his spine and feed it to him if he did. "What?" he grunted as he answered the phone.

"What? That's all I get? What happened to at least saying hello to me?"

Cooper rolled his eyes. "Quit being dramatic Dad." He hated it when James got like that. "It's nearly four in the morning and I am not in the mood for this bullshit. What do you want?"

"I want to know where you are at."

"I'm with Jeff and Matt. I told them about me and Tom fucking and now I'm riding through the freakout."

James could be heard grinding his teeth on the other line. "Why in the blue hell did you decide that was a good idea Cooper? Isn't that the kind of thing you should forget about and try to never speak of again?"

Cooper scowled. "Dad, I am not having this conversation with you."

"Why not?" Now James sounded hurt.

"Because you hate Tom!" Cooper reminded him. "You hate him because he fucked Mark, just like you hate everyone else that Mark's fucked that's not you or Mom." Jodi, Sara, Michelle, Tom, a few faceless bimbos and twinks that we never found out the names of...fuck, I seriously do not get why Dad puts up with him. Dad's not a saint but he's never fucked around on Mark like that.

James sighed. "Oh God, Mark was right wasn't he? You have feelings for Tom don't you?"

Cooper didn't know how to answer that question. His feelings were Tom were still way too mixed up for him to talk about them yet. So he did the only thing he could do: he ignored the Tom question and focused on Mark. "Mark's talking about my feelings?"

"He was until he left," James confirmed. "Hell, he basically fucking scolded me because I wasn't thinking about your feelings and not staying out of your business."

Now Cooper was just plain confused. "Okay, while I agree with that very last part, I have to ask this: who in the hell does he think he is? For twenty seven years, he's never stepped up to even try to be father like to me. Hell, he once told me that just because he knocked mom up, that didn't mean he was my father."

"Well yeah, I've been your father since day one," James said. "Hell I signed the damn birth certificate."

"I know you did! And now, all of a sudden, he's going to start acting concerned about me? Well fuck him! He can go fuck himself and die!"

"Hey now!" James scolded. "That's a little harsh now, isn't it?"

"I don't care if it's harsh or not," Cooper replied. "He's an asshole."

"But he's my asshole," James insisted. "And--"

"And you tell him to stay the hell away from me," Cooper interrupted. "It's way too fucking late for him to start trying to make up for lost time. I was done with him a long fucking time ago." He hung up after that, which was probably not the smartest thing to do because James really did not like getting hung up on. But honestly, Cooper did not give a rat's ass about that right now. Right now, he needed to go interrupt the little conversation going on between the Hardys so he could talk to Jeff alone. He had no real idea of what the right thing to say to Jeff was, but he had to at least talk to the poor guy. I'm going to have to get through Matt though...oh well, I'll knock his ass out if I have to. It'll be good for him anyway if I did that. I bet he's slept just as little as Jeff has.

..........

Jeff rubbed his eyes and stared at the wall, Bunny and Lizard tightly clutched to his chest. He had thought his world couldn't have fallen apart more when Tom just disappeared like he did, but now it just did. Tom had cheated on him with Cooper. Tom had cheated with a Lawson, just like Jeff had just a few months ago. Back when Jeff had been involved with James, he had thought Tom was treating him really unfairly. But now that he was on the other end of the cheating equation, he understood why Tom had acted the way he did. This fucking hurt really bad. It was betrayal at its finest and Jeff really just wanted to curl up and die at the moment.

Matt stroked Jeff's hair gently. "Jeff I'm so sorry," he said softly. "I really am."

"Sorry don't fix nothin' Matty," Jeff said, his voice hoarse and strained from crying so much.

Matt sighed. "Maybe there's more to the story than Cooper's telling us. I mean, he's a Lawson after all. He could be lying about something here. Maybe--"

"Don't," Jeff said shortly. "Please don't." He didn't want Matt trying to get his hopes up at the moment. He knew in his heart that Cooper was telling the truth. He didn't want to know it; he wanted so badly to believe that it was all a lie and Tom hadn't done that. But this was Cooper, not James. If James had said it, it would be easier to not believe because the head of the Lawson clan despised Tom and would make up lies to get him in hot water. Cooper was a different story. Jeff had gotten to know him well enough to know that lying really wasn't his style. Not unless it was to save his, James's or Connor's life.

There was a long stretch of silence after that. Matt continued to stroke Jeff's hair, but that failed to really comfort Jeff. "Look, I'm going to make sure Cooper's out of here," Matt finally said. "And then we're really going to get the police involved. And if that means exposing the Lawsons, then so be it. They deserve it."

"Fuck you Matt. You turn us in and you're going to find yourself on the wrong end of a knife. I promise you that."

Matt and Jeff looked up to see Cooper standing in the doorway. Matt immediately tried to go at him but Jeff grabbed his arm. He didn't want Matt getting into a fight with Cooper. It wasn't a fight his brother was going to win in any way, shape or form.

"I want to talk to Jeff alone," Cooper announced.

"Well that's not happening," Matt replied immediately. "So you're just out of luck."

If looks could kill, Matt would have dropped over dead. "I wasn't asking for your permission Matt," Cooper growled.

"I don't care if you were Lawson," Matt snapped. "You--let me go!"

Jeff gasped as Cooper literally grabbed Matt, tossed him out of the room and locked him out. "What the hell?" Jeff finally said. "I didn't say I wanted to talk to you!"

"Yeah, well we're talking," Cooper replied. He leaned up against the door as Matt tried to break it down from the other side. "Jeff look, there's nothing I can say that will make you feel better about what Tom and I did. Sorry isn't going to fucking cover it."

"Yeah, cuz you probably ain't sorry, are you?" Jeff asked. He got off the bed so he could stand face to face with Cooper. He was too angry to think about how potentially stupid that really was. "How could you do that to me Cooper? Tom didn't want me around you and Connor, but I told him you guys were okay! I liked you guys!" Jeff bit his lip, unable to stop the next question even though he was terrified of the answer. "How many times?"

Cooper didn't need to have the question clarified. "It was only that once," he said. "I don't know why it happened. I can't explain it. It was just--"

"Do you love him?"

"No."

"Do you even like him?"

"Maybe...in a way...I don't really know. I just thought it was lust but then he disappeared and now I just want to find him." Cooper shook his head. "Look, you can hate me all you want right now, but you need me and my family to help find him."

"No," Jeff said stubbornly. "No, Imma find him with Matt. We don't need you."

"Believe me, you do. And you're getting our help whether you like it or not."

"No. You stay away from him. I can't trust him with you."

Cooper sighed. "He eventually forgave the thing with James...are you going to be able to forgive this?"

Jeff bit his lip. "I'm gonna try...but first I need to find him."

"Which is why you need--"

"No! I don't want your help!" Jeff was determined not to listen to Cooper at all. He blamed most of this on him at the moment. It was easy to do because he was the one that was there. "Now get out."

Cooper shook his head."

"No."

"Ma--" Jeff's yell for his brother was cut off by Cooper kissing him. His eyes widened in shock, and he squeaked as he felt Cooper's tongue invade his mouth. He tried to push the younger man away but Cooper didn't stop until he felt like it.

"I have wanted to do that for way too long," Cooper muttered. He still had a hold on Jeff so that the Enigma couldn't hit him. He pressed his forehead against Jeff's and forced him to make eye contact. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "Okay? Just...let's find Tom, and then worry about the other bullshit later. I'll go away and stay away as best I can afterwards if you guys want. Just let me help you find him."

Jeff bit his lip. He wasn't sure whether to believe Cooper or not but he could tell that the younger man wasn't going to go away until Tom was found. "Fine," he said. He tried to yank himself free from Cooper's grip. "Just let me go."

Cooper did and Jeff slapped him as hard as he could. Cooper blinked several times and it looked like he was fighting a smile. "That didn't hurt at all, did it?" Jeff asked with a sigh.

"Not really," Cooper admitted.

"Damn it." Jeff buried his face into his face into his hands. He needed to find Tom and he needed to do it fast because he wasn't sure if he could take working with Cooper for very long. Although I have to admit, he's actually a good kisser...wait no! No! Bad Jeff! Bad bad Jeff! I have to focus on being mad at him. Yes. I must focus on being mad. Mad mad mad mad mad...