"What the hell is this?" Rosa 'calmly' asked.

Jake looked at the phone that was shoved into his face.

Brooklyn Butcher confesses in testimony

"What the hell... It's not him!" He exclaimed after skimming through the article.

"Yeah, I figured." Rosa rolled her eyes. "Dumbass."

Jake slammed his fist onto his desk and briskly got up.

"I'll be right back."

~~~~

Meanwhile, a butcher's shop, that's practically out of business, closes early.

The building looked eerie and stood alone, next to the bullpen and at the end of a dirt road.

It's run-down and seedy appearance repelled customers - which could either be a flaw or a benefit.

And there, in the very back of the shop, sat a black musty leather chair. And on that chair, sat a lonesome and malicious man intently staring at the T.V. And only one thing remained on a constant loop.

Samael Stein frowned as he sipped on a glass of whiskey.

"So this guy..." He growled while tightly clenching the glass. "Is trying to take credit for EVERYTHING I'VE DONE!?!"

He chucked that poor, abused glass at the T.V.

Samael Stein was livid.

~~~~

Peter intently listened to a recording as a frantic Jake stood in front of him, tapping his foot.

Jake had shown up at his front door an hour prior, a complete mess. He quickly skimmed over an explanation as Peter attempted to understand him.

"So, you think they got the wrong guy? And you need my help to figure it out?"

Jake quickly nodded his head.

Peter had just shrugged and walked towards Jake's car.

"You coming?" He had called out as Jake smirked.

Now, they were sitting in one of the interrogation rooms for some privacy. Jake was playing back tapes of what he thought was the real suspect. Since Peter held an actual conversation with the killer before Jake thought he would be able to recognize his voice in one of these tapes. All he had to do was wait.

"I-It's him." Peter said, suddenly.

Jake looked up. "You sure?"

"One hundred percent."

~~~~

Jake slammed Samael Stein's file onto Captain Raymond Holt's desk.

"You got the wrong guy." Jake abruptly said.

The Captain looked up from his work and took off his glasses.

"You're still on this case? Detective, like I told you before, we got the guy and he confessed."

"Look we have evidence that-

"Jake what you have here is all circumstantial evidence. None of this will hold up in court."

Peter gulped. The air was getting thicker and thicker. The tension was already so intense, but there was also something about the room. He looked around.

Something didn't feel right.

Peter coughed.

"With all due respect, sir, Captain, sir, but as a witness I can guarantee that Samael Stein is the guy you should be, um, arresting." Peter decided to join the choleric conversation, while stuttering through his words.

Holt looked up and sighed. The kid did make him feel a little guilty for being so stubborn, but he stubbornly continued his tough guy facade.

"Tell me one thing, then. Why the hell would a murderer/psychopath go through all the trouble and pretend to be a witness to his own crime!?!"

They both remained silent.

"Exactly. You don't have any factual evidence! And now you've got a 15 year old kid fighting YOUR battles?!" Holt shouted. Right as he said that, Peter looked up and rigorously shook his head.

"That's not what's happening here, Captain. Look Peter can-"

"I do not have time for this bullshit! Both of you out NOW!" Holt shouted, finally snapping. He had risen up and slammed his hands on his desk for an extra scare. But one look at a very sad Peter made an immediate wave of guilt washed over him.

The Parker Effect really can get anyone.

Holt groaned. "You know what? Fine. I'll give you until the end of the trial to gather enough evidence to arrest him. And then I'll think about getting a warrant."

"But that's only 2 weeks! And a warrant takes forever to get processed! How the hell am I-" Jake was immediately cut off by the coldest stare he had ever received in his entire life.

"Fine!" He shouted before leaving and slamming the door behind him. He didn't even realize he left Peter.

Holt rolled his eyes and sat down. He put on his reading glasses and quietly went back to work as if nothing had happened.

Peter cleared his throat.

"So... I'm just going to, uhm, go?" Peter finally let out after a long and awkward pause.

"Is that a statement or a question?" Holt said harshly. He felt a sudden urge to teach the kid to be more assertive.

" ᵇʸᵉ " Peter said, quietly, grabbing the case file Jake had left behind before leaving.

~~~~

Peter sat in an empty break room, discreetly taking pictures of Samael Stein's case file. After asking around, Peter figured out Jake had left to go binge on some donuts. He was probably sitting in the middle of Crunkin' Cronuts bawling his eyes out.

Peter pushed the case file away from him to avoid any suspicion. Too bad he didn't realize there were cameras in the break room.

Though, not from who you would think.

~~~~

Peter was walking back home. He would rather swing his way back, but he didn't want Tony finding out he was there.

At least it gave him some time to think.

The only information Peter could gather from reading through the case files were that Samael worked at a butcher's shop he owned. So, that's why he smelled like that at the hospital.

Samael also had recently bought some suspicious supplies. But they could all easily be passed off as tools for cutting raw steak. It was impossible to argue that those were the murder weapons because everything in the case files were only circumstantial. It was so frustrating!

Peter groaned just as it started to drizzle. He looked up and cursed. The clouds were as dark as the night sky, insinuating the down fall that was about to begin. Which was weird because the forecast was supposed to be clear. Stupid weathermen need to up their game.

He sprinted home before he could get soaking wet.

~~~~

Peter fumbled for the keys in his pocket and slowly opened the door when he found them. He knew May wasn't asleep yet because it was only nine o'clock, but the house was oddly quiet for someone who should be awake. Peter furrowed his eyebrows and called out for his aunt.

"May?"

He nervously groped for the light switch and silently prayed to God that his aunt was alive and well.

Peter flicked the switch and audibly gasped.

Everything was destroyed.

Or at least it looked like it was.

The first thing Peter noticed were odd tears on his living room couch and when he looked up, his TV was shattered and on the floor.

Peter turned when he felt a gust of wind on his shoulder to see his window smashed in. Various chairs and papers and furnishings were strewn across the floor.

But the one thing that stood out the most was the pool of blood outside of May's door.

And May was nowhere to be seen.

The air grew heavy and Peter began to feel suffocated. The scent of rain was dark and heady and a eery stillness fell over him, and in that silence came a low rumble of thunder, resonating across rooftops and through the pattering of tiny raindrops. For a moment, everything stopped. Even the wind held its breath. Then a sudden streak of hot silver split the sky, and the downpour began.

Boom.

Peter growled.

Boom.

Peter was outside in the blink of an eye. He no longer cared if he got soaked or not.

Boom.

He looked towards the general direction of Samael Stein's shop with a murderous glare.

CRACK!

He didn't even notice his phone buzz as lightning cracked all around him.

He didn't even notice the unusual color his eyes now were.

All Peter could see was the smug face of Samael Stein replaying in his mind.

~~~~

1345 words.