The Dream Case || Dreamnotfound

18

The next day at the station was so much worse.

George never explained what happed in the hallway the other day to the rest of the group, but he figured that Sapnap, Alex, and Karl got the gist of it.

Clay wasn't allowed to come back because he assaulted the guards on his way to get to George. He would be allowed back eventually, but not that day.

George stared at the papers in front of him blankly, tracing his finger over Clay's highlighted lines. He ignored the white circled stain on the table from yesterday, another reminder of what happened.

George picked up the highlighter and drew a small smile on the page numbly. Clay had said that drawing smiles reminded him to be happy and smile, but when George saw that yellow smile all he could think of was Clay.

He swallowed and looked away, pressing the pads of his fingers into his eyelids. The room was quiet aside from the chatter of the trio on the other end of the table. The air conditioning still hadn't been fixed and it just made everything more miserable to George.

He was tired, sweaty, and irritable. A combination that made him cranky. His tiredness made him miss his bed. The heat made him miss England. His irritability made him want a calming hug and someone to lay next to.

Altogether, it could be said that he missed Clay.

It's real, all of it.

George didn't want to overthink things, but that sentence had been running through his mind since he last saw Clay. All of it was real, Clay had said. His feelings was what he meant, George knew that.

He may be a shit detective, but even George wasn't dumb enough to not understand it. But what exactly did Clay feel?

Was it gratitude for providing a partner to talk to? Happiness for what that had been? Sadness for what they could've been? Or was it something completely different?

A word that George didn't know the exact meaning, but he knew that if it was said he would break. He didn't know how he would handle something like that if it were said. A part of him wanted to say it, to say I love you. But how could he say it if he didn't know for sure?

Did Clay feel the same? George knew that the answer was probably yes.

But still, being in love with a serial killer? That's quite different from who he was originally planning on saying it to. To the person before Dream, the person he had connected with. The person he still connected with.

George didn't know what to think anymore. Was what he was feeling even real?

How was he supposed to know if it was love? Maybe he was manipulated into feeling it, maybe his "love" was fake. Another lie in the web of lies that Clay had spun.

The thought broke George's heart even further. Was it love? Or was it just another lie?

~

Two days later and Clay was back.

He was pushed into the room and George's head snapped up from his paperwork in surprise. Two of Clay's guards led him to a seat and cuffed one of his wrists to a chair. Clay didn't fight back, he never had. The fact made George realize that Clay was really trying.

George couldn't help but stare at the purple bruise that littered the side of Clay's jaw.

The purples and reds sprawled up his jaw and cheekbone, a result probably from a cellmate. George flinched and looked away.

Alex and Karl were on a walk, which left Sapnap in the room because he couldn't leave. Tommy had also just stopped by to drop off some possible leads.