Jay sighed, he just woke up and already he felt exhausted. It's been a tense couple of days at the Grant house and he didn't see conditions getting any better. Not with Patric Riot lurking around the place. Jason still was giving him the extreme cold shoulder only answering his, albeit few, attempts at conversation with barely audible grunts and not allowing the boy to use anything in the house. Realistically, he knew the kid had to at least be using the kitchen at night, after all, he didn't complain about being hungry, but he never did anything to induce Jason's rage, that is, if he could help it. And that aggravated the hell out of Jason. He wanted to hate this kid but, besides the whole 'he's probably a murderer' thing and the vandalizing of public property Patric seemed to be a pretty decent person. Maybe Jay could ease up on some of the hostility and give the kid a break. Shaking his head to dislodge those thoughts, he reminded himself once again that the kid was a murderer. Even worse, a serial killer.

He begrudgingly left the sanctuary of his bedroom and made his way down the hall stopping at the guest room to make sure his rather forced guest wasn't sullying the place with his mere presence and saw that the thick winter blankets he had on the bed weren't there.

Honestly, this discovery had Jay only slightly vexed. He'd expected the kid to take the blankets much sooner. It was getting cold outside and Patric had absolutely nothing. Resigned to the fact that he'd have to wash his sheets after this week, at least ten times, to be satisfied that Patric Riot's self had been washed out of them Jay made his way to the kitchen intent on yelling at the boy as soon as he saw him. He'd probably be curled up, snug as a bug, on Jay's couch.

But when Jason spotted his couch it didn't contain any of his blankets or Patric. He hastily looked around the room for the boy. Over in the corner nearest his back door were the blankets, looking very well used, in a wrinkled heap. But Patric was nowhere to be found. Jason tried not to panic as he looked around the rest of the house for the criminal. As each room came up empty he felt his heart rate steadily increasing. Where could that fucking fuck have gone that didn't set off the warning bells on his tracking device?

Fearing the worst, Jason called the precinct, dialing his room's extension number, and hoping beyond hope that one of his super dedicated teammates decided to get up at the ass crack of dawn on this fine morning. To his surprise, and relief, someone answered.

"What the fuck do you want?" the cheerful voice of Montoya growled into the phone.

"And good morning to you too," Jay greeted before dramatically changing his tone. "I can't find Riot anywhere."

"You're shitting me," she intoned flatly.

"I wish I was," serious as the plague, Jason continued, "but it's weird, that fancy bracelet didn't go off."

"And you checked everywhere? Isn't he supposed to come in with you soon?"

"Yes I checked everywhere. I'm not stupid Montoya. And yeah, we're supposed to be in later today," really, they were supposed to have been there already.

"Did you check outside?" she asked dully. Montoya knew her boss well enough to know he wasn't at full thinking capacity until he'd had about two cups of coffee, and from the sound of his aggravated grunts of conversation, he hadn't gotten to drink any of the magical elixir today.

"Shit!" Jason had never even thought about looking outside. Who would go out in such cold temperatures? There was frost on the ground for Christ's sake!

Hanging up the phone without so much as a goodbye, Jason fumbled his way to the front door to see if Patric might be perched on the steps there. When he saw nothing Jason bolted to the back door. Walking out into the back yard, Jason began to look.

He halted at the large maple tree on his property. It had lost all of its leaves for the coming of winter standing tall and proud near the back corner of his yard. He thought he saw movement around the back side of the trunk. Was that a foot?

Jay crept closer walking around to the back of the tree. And there lay Patric Riot at the base of the tree asleep and shivering, lips tinted blue. Evidently the kid didn't feel comfortable enough to sleep in his house. Jay felt a pang of sympathy coarse through him that he shoved away and ignored by kicking the kid in the foot.

Patric jumped, waking up quickly.

"Get up, it's time to go," with that said, Jason headed back into the warmth of his house, Patric scrambling after him.

                                                           ~GP~

Patric was seated at the table starting at a totally underwhelming folder. "This is it?" he asked incredulously.

"Yeah," Jason answered with a glare.

Patric opened the folder looking at the stark amount of pages, using his thumb to quickly leaf through them, "This is all it took for me to be accused?"

Sophie sat down next to him giving him a consoling pat on the shoulder, "It is when the evidence is so conclusive."

Well, shit.

Patric read through the files trying to quickly find things that linked the murders. Spray paint. Phone calls. Leather gloves. Times reported. And the most chilling: He knew them all.

There was a clearing of a throat and Patric looked up to see Sophie offering him a slice of pizza.

"You're a goddess," he grabbed the piece and started scarfing it down.

Sophie started at him wide eyed, "You're acting as if you haven't eaten in days."

"I haven't."

Looking around the small room Patric noticed that they were the only two in the room. He actually couldn't believe they'd left one of their own alone with him. Sure he was living with Jason, but Sophie was different. She made people want to protect her. Jason, on the other hand, made people want to punch him in the face. "Where's everyone else?"

"They went for lunch."

"Oh."

Handing Patric another slice of pizza, Sophie made a note to yell at Jason for not feeding the boy. He was already too skinny. Skipping a meal wasn't good.

After having eaten three pieces of pizza Patric sighed content and leaned back in his seat enjoying the gentle non-judgmental company of Sophie Porter. "How long before everyone's back?" he asked.

Glancing at the clock Sophie answered, "About ten minutes."

"Then what's gonna happen?" he thought it was a legit question. Patric had been reading the case flies all morning. Was he going back to it in the afternoon or was there something else they had planned for him to work on?

"We're going to let you listen to the audios," Sophie admitted looking at him like she'd done something wrong.

Patric let out a shaky breath. He'd been excluding to hear them eventually. The words the killer spoke right after killing his friends. He turned to Sophie and tried to smile reassuringly at her, "Thanks for the warning."

She merely nodded. They spent the rest of the time in companionable silence.