The Dream Case || Dreamnotfound

16

"Hey Sam, I'm here to see Dream."

Sam studied the badge that George held out and nodded, marking something on his papers. George replied to every question Sam had― everything from prison rules and protocols to warnings about Dream's capabilities.

"Don't underestimate him," Sam said, "he may be behind glass, but that doesn't mean he wont take the chance to manipulate you."

George didn't respond and Sam looked up from his paperwork. George looked away and muttered, "I know what he's capable of."

Sam studied him a moment before handing him several forms to sign. Fifteen minutes later, George was being led through a long hall. He entered an empty visiting room and sat down with a sigh.

George observed the glass divider in front of him. It looked strong, but who knows how much pressure it could take. The slotted holes in a circle in front of him allowed a prisoner and visitor to talk, but the glass was probably weaker there. George hated how he had to observe all the possible ways something could  go wrong, but he couldn't stop himself.

Minutes later a door on the other side opened and two guards walked in, Clay standing between them. Clay's eyes scanned the room, landing on George and widening in surprise. George shifted uncomfortably and looked at his hands.

Clay sat down across from him and one guard left to stand outside while the other stood on the inside, near the door. George didn't look up, waiting for Clay to speak.

"You're here," Clay whispered in disbelief. "Why?"

George looked up to meet Clay's soft eyes, looking at George with so much care that it made George's heart break. George quickly looked away and muttered, "Don't look at me like that."

There was a confused silence before Clay asked quietly, "How am I supposed to look at you, George?"

"Not like that."

George glanced up to see Clay's hesitant nod. Clay said, his voice painfully strained, "I'm sorry."

George closed his eyes and took a breath. He opened them and looked to Clay, saying evenly, "Now what are you sorry about exactly? Which part in the web of lies are you sorry for? Lying to me about your job? About the fact that you're a goddamn serial killer?! How you have a sister? Or are you sorry for lying about the way you felt?"

"My feelings for you weren't a lie, George," Clay said, his eyes sad, "I may have lied about everything else, but what I felt for you was real."

Oh― Oh.

George's chest squeezed and he looked away, blinking back tears. He whispered, "That makes everything so much worse."

"I know. I'm sorry for all of it. You don't deserve what I did to you."

"I don't, but here we are," George snapped. He took a breath and swallowed. "I'm not here for an apology."

"Then why are you here?"

George met Clay's eyes and said, "I'm setting up a team... we're going to find your sister and Wilbur."

Clay sat up immediately, his eyes widening. He whispered, "Really?"

George nodded and he could practically see the gears turning in Clay's head. A small, excited smile ghosted Clay's lips as he asked, "When do we leave?"

"You're not going."

Clay's face fell. "What? No, I have to go, she's my sister! She is my family, I need to go."

"Sorry, but it's too dangerous to let you on the loose. You could run away for all I know."

Clay leaned forward, resting his cuffed hands on the table. He whispered, "You know that's not true. I wouldn't run from you."