A/N: Such dialogue. Much suspect. Wow.

Dated memes are my lifeblood apparently.

Enjoy~

The group practically burst through the department's door, the receptionist looking with wide eyes before they drooped in the slightest. She was more than able to recognize the strung-out blonde and equally disheveled noirette hurrying beside of him towards her desk. She let out a long, quiet sigh. Her last week had been full of their visits and phone calls. "Hello, Mr. McCormick," she said, eying the other three behind the ringleaders. "There haven't been any developments," she reported dryly.

He frowned, "Great, Lucy, here's a fucking development for you," he said, slamming the plastic bag in front of her on her desk.

She raised her brow. "A bag?"

He held it up again, pointing out the ember curl glistening in the light. "Here's the proof. Get my boyfriend back," he hissed.

Lucy blinked, grabbing her phone and quickly punching in an extension, staring in bewilderment at the boy in front of her looking nothing short of mad. "Sarge? Can you come up please? It's the Broflovski case again." She hung up the phone and cleared her throat, gesturing to the chairs on the opposite side of the lobby. "Go ahead and sit down, Boys," she directed.

Stan and Token grasped Kenny's arms rooted to her desk and pulled him backwards, his icy eyes locked on the woman seeming so calm about the situation. They pushed him into his chair and each took a side, Tweek and Clyde sitting to the left of Token. "Ken, take a breath," Token directed.

"You realize what you found, right?!" he snapped. "A hair with no body."

"Kenny, come on," Stan bit his lip, rubbing his arm. "They'll see the hair, take down Craig, and we'll get Ky back, okay?"

He sighed irritably, hiding his face in his hands. He took a shuddery breath, eyes burning with exhaustion, heart pounding in fear. They hadn't found anything but a hair. Where the hell was he?! Was he out in the woods? Did Craig really manage to hide him so well with so little warning? Or was Kyle already past the point of being hidden, out there decomposing while his ghost followed Kenny and screamed at him for what he'd caused. He sniffled, feeling Stan and Token each trying to comfort him, at a loss for what to say.

"I just can't believe it," Clyde said blankly, the other four looking at him as he stared at the ground. "You think you know someone, you know?" he winced.

"Jesus, what if Kyle isn't the first?!" Tweek spat out, clutching at his hair. "What if he's been doing this all our lives?"

"I highly doubt that, Tweek," Token sighed, rubbing his forehead tiredly.

"Then why did he have to start with Ky?" Kenny questioned in a whisper, shutting his eyes and sniffling some more. That hair was doing nothing more than throwing him into a deeper pit of misery. Too many possibilities that remained, some new popping up. Nothing seemed to get answered except what he knew all along: Craig was the only one who knew where Kyle was.

"Hello again, Boys," an annoyed voice popped up. They glanced to see Yates and Murphy approaching them, Yates looking far past the point of wanting to talk to them. "Just what is it this time?"

"We have proof," Kenny finally found his energy again, hopping out of his seat and speeding to Lucy's desk. He grabbed the baggie and handed it to him with a shaking arm. "My friends found this in Craig's barn!"

Murphy raised his brow, taking the bag and holding it up against the light, hazel eyes following the graceful curve of the follicle. He twisted his lips, it definitely seemed to match the descriptions and pictures he'd seen. He dropped it back down and handed it to Yates. "Well?"

Yates 'hmphed', checking out the sample for himself with a scrutinizing eye. He looked back at the group watching him intensively and sighed. "Come on, we'll talk in the interrogation room," he rolled his eyes. He turned on his heel, leading the boys through the department. He grabbed an officer on the way by and handed him the baggie. "Send this to the lab, for the Broflovski case," he said firmly. "I want a comparison to the samples taken from the house." The officer nodded and ran off to do as told, shooting Kenny a marred look of sympathy and suspicion that made the blonde's hair stand on end. Stan gently grabbed his arm, leading him to continue following the officers down the way of the station.

Murphy and Yates grabbed four extra chairs on the way by as they made way into the brightly lit room, waiting for all the nerve-shot boys to pass them in the doorway and handing off the chairs. The men looked from the group to each other questionably as they shut the door and the five others set up on the opposite side of the remaining two chairs for the officers. Yates led the way and the two of them sat down, staring at them intensely, looking for the easiest to break. The jittering blonde with the mis-buttoned shirt was the obvious one to start with.

"All right, Boys, here's how this is going to go," Yates narrowed his eyes. "We're going to ask questions to direct people. And no one is to say anything out of turn, are we clear?"

"Fine, just finish this so you can rescue Kyle," Kenny snapped, sneering slightly as the man shot him a warning look.

"McCormick, you're on thin ice already, I don't want to have to put you back in a cell. Are we clear?" Kenny took a deep breath, his lips setting firmly and looking away. The man nodded, "Good. Now. You there," he pointed to Tweek whose eyes widened. He reached towards the recorder on the table, checking to confirm a blank tape and nodding satisfactorily, leaning back to let Murphy double check before slamming the tape deck down and hitting 'record'. "Your name, Son?"

"Um...T-Tweek Tweak," he blinked.

"No, your real name," he frowned.

"That is!" he insisted, reaching into his pocket and slowly getting out his wallet, moving genially to make damn well sure he wasn't shot. He grasped his State ID and handed it to him, Yate's brow raising.

"Well, I'll be damned. All right," he handed him back the card, Murphy scribbling notes as Yates sighed tiredly. "Tell me, Mr. Tweak, were you one of the ones who found the supposed evidence?"

He nodded slowly, "Y-yeah. We went to Craig's barn."

"And just why did you go?" he asked, shooting Kenny a shady glance.

Tweek licked over his lips and sniffled. "Because we wanna find Kyle. And...and Kenny's sure that Craig took him."

"You're under court order to refrain from contact with Mr. Tucker, McCormick," the man redirected his attention sternly. "Care to explain?"

He took a deep breath, "If it gets Kyle back, I'll fucking go to jail," he said lowly. "I'll rot in fucking prison for the rest of my goddamn life before I let that fuck keep him for himself."

"Cut the dramatic martyr bullshit, Mr. McCormick," he snapped. "You don't get to decide how to work the rules of a court of law."

Kenny blinked, "Do you even care what's happening right now? My scrawny boyfriend is being held hostage by a fucking psychopath and you seem to care more about protecting the psycho!"

"Perhaps you aren't familiar with the phrase 'innocent until proven guilty'," he raised his brow.

"Then stop thinking I'm guilty!" he countered. "I ain't a saint but I didn't touch Kyle!"

"Sir," Token interjected, wincing at the sharp look from the sergeant. "We volunteered," he lied a bit. "Craig is our best friend," he gestured between himself, Clyde, and the still-trembling Tweek.

"What kind of best friends suspect one another of such a crime?" Murphy questioned.

"We didn't at first," he explained. "But Craig's story just doesn't seem to add up."

Yates nodded a bit, "All right. Name?"

"Token Black."

"All right, Mr. Black," he looked at him expectantly. "Just what doesn't add up with Mr. Tucker?"

He frowned, "Craig has a cage and chain locked to a pole in the barn. He said it's for his dog, but he doesn't keep dogs outside," he said firmly. "Too paranoid of ticks and fleas and shit."

"No ticks and fleas in this season," Murphy pointed out.

"No, instead there's colds, the flu, and pneumonia, which is something he's ranted about to us before," he argued. "Craig manages a damn pet store, he knows better."

Yates shrugged, "Did you think maybe he's lessened on that stance? Some people change when they get a pet that's more acclimated to being outdoors."

Token shook his head, "Craig is stubborn. He thinks he knows best when it comes to his pets. He wouldn't change that stance for this dog, I'm sure of it."

Murphy tapped his pencil on his notepad, looking down the line and directing attention to Clyde. "You were part of the excursion as well?"

He nodded, "Name's Clyde Donovan," he started. "Craig apparently bought chain collars for his dog, Lila, but we went and saw she has a leather collar."

"Okay? So he decided to buy a different collar," Yates rolled his eyes.

"No," he bit his lip. "Craig would never buy a chain collar. He's called them torture devices," he winced. "He's told us what kind of damage it could do to a dog's neck, there's no way he'd buy one in the first place."

Yates sighed, rubbing his temple. "Maybe he bought the wrong one by mistake."

"Our friend Butters said he specially ordered them," he insisted.

"Look," Stan finally interjected, trying to calm Kenny from losing his mind at the inane drivel. "One of our other friends said when we were younger, and even now, Craig stared at Kyle all the time. Apparently he has a thing for him none of us ever noticed. The fucking maniac probably took him because he wouldn't leave Kenny," he gestured to the blonde. "You guys have the hair! That should be plenty enough to go break down the door!"

Yates narrowed his eyes. "Mr. Marsh, do you watch cop dramas?"

He blinked, "Well, I mean sometimes but-"

"Do you know how grossly inaccurate they are?" he cut him off sharply. "You know how law enforcement works, Boys? With lots of paperwork and lots of time. This is a serious charge you're making against Mr. Tucker. Just because you come in here spouting that you found this hair at the suspect's house doesn't mean we're going to bust down the door with guns blazing like this is goddamn Law and Order. In fact, it raises about twenty other possibilities."

"Like what?!" Kenny exclaimed.

Murphy cleared his throat. "Like, how do we know it's from the suspect's home? How do we know you didn't just take it from your home and come in with a false accusation because of a grudge against Mr. Tucker? For that matter, how do we know that, if it is from Mr. Tucker's home, that Mr. Broflovski didn't lose it there when he was there of his own free will? And, most importantly, until the test is run, we won't know if it is Mr. Broflovski's."

Kenny scowled. "IT'S CURLY AND RED!" he shouted. "You know how many curly redheads we have in this town?! TWO. AND ONE IS HIS MOTHER!"

"Mr. McCormick..." Yates warned.

"And I can guarantee that the only curly redhead that Craig knows is Kyle!" he continued desperately. "And Kyle's never been in his barn! He's been in the house but not the fucking barn!'

Murphy sighed, "What if the hair was transferred while Mr. Broflovski was in his home onto Mr. Tucker's person and it was discarded within the barn?" he questioned. "Boys, this isn't so cut and dry."

"Oh my god," Kenny said blankly, leaning back in his chair, jaw slack in defeat as he stared at the desk top. "Kyle's going to die. You're going to be playing with paperwork...and he's going to die."

Yates sighed irritably, "Mr. McCormick, we are doing this the way it's done for everyone. Without clear and concise evidence from the department," he emphasized to Clyde, Token, and Tweek's angry faces, "Then our hands are tied."

"No, Kyle's are tied!" he spat. "You get to go home after your fucking shift and let all this roll off your back until tomorrow! Meanwhile I'm staying at fucking Stan's because I can't bear to go into my own house, and Kyle's out there at Craig's, fucking alone, probably scared and hurt if not worse!" he insisted. "Please just go search it. Please," he begged.

The sergeant rubbed his temple, wondering why oh why he didn't go home early today. "Look, we're not going to issue a warrant. Not until your sample's results come back," he said sternly.

"And how long will that take?" Stan frowned.

"Three weeks minimum, most likely about a month and a half," he shrugged.

"A MONTH AND A HALF?!" Kenny repeated. "It's already been a week and no one's done anything!"

Murphy shook his head, "Boys, Mr. Broflovski isn't the only person who needs assistance," he said. "Your sample will be expedited to a national lab and reviewed, but he's going to be far down on the list, and there's nothing we can do to speed up the time. Now, maybe it'll take a little less time, since there's a possibility he's still alive he should be moved up a bit on the list, but we can't guarantee it."

"What do we do until then?" Stan asked blankly, jaw trembling.

"You wait. You let us handle it," Yates said sharply. "However, we will be bringing Mr. Tucker in for further questioning. Will that ease you off our backs a bit, Mr. McCormick?"

The blonde exhaled angrily, slapping his hands on the table and standing up, staring the officer down. "No. Because if it goes anything like everything else you've been 'doing' to get Kyle back, he's still going to be gone. Craig could be wearing a sign saying 'I took him' and you still wouldn't fucking get it! Thanks for guaranteeing his fucking death," he spat. He turned on his heel and stormed towards the door, throwing it open and rushing out. The remaining four got to their feet, glaring at the officers and making their way to help the distressed blonde.

The men looked at each other and Yates switched off the tape recorder, shaking his head. "People certainly lose their heads in this situation, don't they, Murphy?" he asked quietly.

"Can you blame him?" his partner questioned softly. "Especially if he didn't do it. Let's face it, he's one of the calmest people we've dealt with in this scenario. He hasn't assaulted any of us yet," he shrugged.

"Only because he wants to stay out of prison," he rolled his eyes. "Can't keep your 'innocent' name if you're behind bars." He sighed, leaning his head back and shaking his head again. "Tell you what, McCormick may be one of the calmer, but he's a giant thorn in my ass right now."

"He's scared, Sarge," he reminded him. "He's dead sure of who did it. And, if Tucker did do it...Then, yeah, he has every right to be angry."

"Oh, don't tell me you still believe his sob story," he looked at him tiredly.

The silver-haired man looked down at his notes and sighed. "I don't know, Sir. All I know is now we have five people telling us this guy did it. If Black, Tweak, and Donovan are Tucker's best friends...then maybe there's more to it than we thought."

Yates rubbed his eyes, getting to his feet. "Fine. Call Tucker. Arrange a time for him tomorrow to meet us here."

"Yes, Sir," he nodded softly, watching his superior walk out the door. The man looked back at his notes, biting lightly into the cedar of his pencil, eyes faintly tracing over scribbled lead lines. Same as always, it seemed; One step forward, two miles back.

A/N: Lucy's name inspired by Twin Peak's Lucy because fuck me I love that show and I'm watching Kyle MacLachlan's Twitter like a stalker waiting impatiently for the reboot to come out /sob

So much technicality in the police force it's a damn shame that Kyle's butt has to suffer because of paperwork. Silly Presumption of Innocence, you're dooming my strawberry.

Thanks for R&Ring!