The next few days went by silently. George stayed glued to Clay's side, just simply not wanting to be left alone. Clay didn't mind too much though.
Nick had came over to try and make sure George was alright, and George simply said that he's 'still recovering'.
Nick seemed to have his eyes focused on Clay, and Clay had that same glance towards him. They both stared at one another.
Surprisingly, Clay's been able to hold back the itch when it came to Nick. They were friends after all.
~~~~
George sips bitter coffee, honestly not caring that it wasn't his own. Clay didn't seem to mind either, but just glad that George was finally eating and drinking again.
Who knows how much worse it would've been if George saw Niki's body.
Clay looks over at the TV, watching the news reporter talk about Niki's death, and the funeral they plan to hold.
George mumbles under his breath, "Turn it off. I don't want to loose this damn liquid in my stomach."
Clay did so immediately.
All he wanted was for George to be back to normal.
And that's exactly he got within a month.
~~~~~~~~George's POV~~~~~~~~~~~
The murders have stopped. After Niki's death, there hasn't been another case. And now that I can think about it and not feel sick, I genuinely don't think it was suicide. Niki never seemed the kind to go that route.
And after investigating and researching, I was right.
Looking at photographs, Niki wouldn't have put a hole in her hand and then write out a note. Or the other way around.
Niki has always said that if she were to ever commit suicide. She would go a quick and easy way. No explanations to go along with it. She's disappear off the grid and leave everything behind but maybe her phone.
We had discussed many suicide cases together.
Sure, I didn't know everything about her. Maybe something mentally was messed up, but I don't think she'd do something like this.
It didn't add up.
I look over at Nick, then at Clay. Clays shuffling through papers, and Nicks aimlessly typing on his computer. He's probably looking for more cases to go through. Maybe back to the 'Smile Murder' cases that have now, been left untouched.
I turn back to my desk, picking up a pen and pulling out an old piece of parchment. Niki and Wilbur both loved this kind of vintage old feeling writing.
I hope they're buried next to one another. In peace. I haven't had the guts to go to the graveyard yet.
Dear Wilbur and Niki, I hope you two find comfort in one another's presence.
I miss both of you dearly.
To keep you up to date, the Smile Murders have stopped. After Niki's death. Like, completely stopped. It's been a month since then.
Maybe the murderer had been killed. Maybe Niki was a the murderer. But I see it as unlikely.
If I'm being honest, I think it's Clay.
Keep this between us, just parchment to dirt, but he's been acting so much more odd.
His ways to get away with murder are getting too accurate.
He even suggested that Niki - your murder was a homicide. It wasn't suicide.
And I firmly believe it.
But how Clay got to that conclusion worries me. I'm worried that he is the murderer. It lines up, for sure. It happened presumably the night after the meeting. The night Clay took me back to my house.
Don't worry though, he'll be behind bars soon enough. If he is the culprit.
It just hurts so much more than it should.
-George♡︎
After writing the small note, I carefully roll it up and tie it loosely with a small ribbon. I think I grabbed red, but I wasn't looking at the container label.
I stand and walk out of my office, keeping my gaze forward. Then, I walk out of the department in general.
There's a small graveyard a little ways away. It's where Niki and Wilbur have both been buried.
Upon walking inside, I see two small boys talking amongst one another quietly, sitting beside Wilbur and Niki's grave.
After closer inspection, it's Tommy and Tubbo.
I let out a small sigh, relaxing as I approached them. The two boys both look up at me and scowl. I simply continue.
I crouch down to Wilbur's grave, Tommy moving away from me momentarily, as I place down the parchment.
The boys stare at me, but I don't return the gaze. I'm here to pay my respects. To Wilbur and Niki.
Thankfully, they're buried right beside one another.
Maybe they'll both read the parchment together.
And maybe they'll smile.
~~~~Clays POV~~~~ (Uh oh, violence and death. Again. It's descriptive. Not as bad as Niki's, but still descriptive ♡︎)
Well, there he went. George went off to probably the graveyard.
Nick paused for a moment to briefly look up at George, and unfortunately, that's what seemed to set me off.
I tackled him against the desk, using the soundproof walls to my advantage.
I punched him, he tried to fight back and yell out for help.
If I'm being honest, I don't know what really happened.
But before I knew it, I was on the ground strangling Nick. I'm pretty sure this time, I'm going to be caught.
Nick kicked and punched at my stomach and neck, but I didn't feel a thing.
That's when Nick grabbed his taser and put it against my neck.
It put me in shock, and I fell down.
~~~3rd POV~~~
Nick shoved Clay off of him and immediately tried to yell for help. But what stopped him was a sharp pain in Nicks leg.
Clay stabbed him with a knife.
Yelling out in pain, Nick kicked him and reached for the door until Clay was - somehow - able to stand tackle Nick once more.
Clay stabbed Nick, more times that he could count.
It was out of pure rage and adrenaline.
The amount of blood on Clay's hands had overflowed.
And, in a crazed state, he even began to laugh.
It started out quiet, but it grew louder.
Clay huffs, grabbing his hair, going silent.
Then, the door opens.
Everything's silent.
Clays glossy eyes slowly look up to a pair of horrified blue ones.
George stumbled back, almost going into a pure panic. He doesn't think. George turns around and is about to yell for help, but a hand is slammed over his.
George didn't realize it, but Clay was able to stand and walk over to him.
George is pulled back, and the door shuts and locks. George doesn't move. He stays in place, feeling the blood - thats not by any means his own - run down his jaw and neck.
George whimpers as he feels a kiss being placed on his neck.
Those lips, he knows those lips. They're engraved in his memory. It's Clays.
"George, you weren't supposed to see this. Not like this. You weren't supposed to find out like this. Wrong time, wrong place."
There was a moment of silence before that same voice whispered once again, "Remember when I said that I would kill for you?"
George pales.
"Well, I meant it."
WORDS: 1206
A/N: <3