While George was staring above Clay's head at the camera, the murderer had developed a plan. I'll teach you for playing mind games, Dream thought. He waited until the Brit was watching before going over to his clear plastic chest of drawers. Rather stupid to have seethrough drawers if they weren't going to check them, Clay thought. He opened the third one from the top, rummaging a little.
"What are you doing?" George demanded. Clay whistled, ignoring the FBI agent-in-training. He pulled out a wooden-hilted kitchen knife, the blade seven inches long. God knew where he got it from, but there it was in his hand.
"Cl- Clay?" George stuttered as Dream approached the glass.
"One wrong move and I will smash this fucking glass and kill you," Dream murmured darkly. George felt his hand twitch toward his jacket pocket, his gun holster.
"I SAID, ONE WRONG MOVE AND YOU'RE DEAD! How hard is that to understand?" Dream roared, hitting the glass with the handle of the knife. George jumped violently, shivers running up his spine. He slowly raised his empty hands, the universal sign for surrender. George could feel his heart palpitating but paid it no attention, too busy trying not to die.
"That's it, darling. Now come to the glass, I want to see your pretty face up close." George obeyed. Though he was much better off in this scenario, he had seen Dream kill with less. He didn't want to meet the same fate.
"Good boy, good boy..." Dream smiled as he swung the dagger angrily at the glass. The force that he put behind the blow alone would have shattered it. Glass shards exploded everywhere and George had to scramble to cover his exposed skin. He could hear Niki and Sam frantically yelling in the other room.
"Holy shit, he's still in there! Check the cameras! Where the fuck did he get that? Get him out of there, someone!"
George ignored them, keeping his eyes on Dream (and the blade he held).
"Dream, put the fucking knife down," George shifted into a defensive crouch, holding his hands out in front of him cautiously.
"And I would do that, why? I worked my ass off for this thing," Dream cocked his head. "You can't take it from me, I'm in charge here."
"You sure?" George's eyes never left Dreams as he reached for his gun. His fingers closed around the little black handle as he yanked it out of its sleeve. George flicked the safety off, training the barrel on Dream. The psychopath looked unphased.
"Really George? You're going to shoot me? You don't have the guts to shoot ducks, let alone a person." At this, George had a flashback of the previous summer. He was back in England and his father had insisted that the two of them go duck-shooting, man to man (The family hadn't been informed of his aversion to dating women yet). George had tried to the best of his ability but failed to pull the trigger in the end. Why take an innocent life when he didn't have to? The more important question was, how in God's name did Clay know...?
"I- I don't know what you're t- talking about," George stammered. Dream smiled back at the brunette, standing over him with the knife between his teeth. He bowed his head, forcing his lips terrifyingly close to George's.
"I think you do," Dream whispered in George's ear. George cursed the little part of him that found the motion dangerously attractive.
"George, hold on just a minute, Niki and Jack are trying to get you out, okay? Just hold your fire until we get there, please? The police are on their way for backup, you'll be fine if you just wait it out," Puffy's panicked voice hummed into George's ear. "Threaten him! Act terrified, I don't know! Just get him away from him as best you can!"
"Clay, please... Can you just take one step back? I don't like this..." George whispered. Clay scoffed.
"Pathetic," he hissed, though he took a half-step away from the Brit. George breathed a sigh of relief, but Dream wasn't done with him yet.
"Put the gun on the floor, Davidson. You're not going to use it. I can repurpose it for you," Dream smiled sadistically at the quivering boy in front of him. George hesitated, looking at the security camera for confirmation.
"Drop the fucking gun, asshole!" Dream shouted. George's fingers slipped and the little black pistol clattered to the floor.
"Good boy! Good, good boy!" Dream praised, bending down to retrieve the weapon. "You're being very good, very obedient. If you keep it up, I might decide to let you live. Wouldn't that be nice?" George nodded weakly, trying to ignore the fear that pitted his stomach.
"Against the wall, agent," Clay instructed. George did as he was told.
"Sit." George sat. It felt like he was a dog learning tricks. Dream gave him one last approving huff before stepping over the broken glass back into his cell. George tried to inconspicuously shift closer to the gate. By the time Clay had turned around again, George was bolting down the hallway. Dream fired one shot out of the pistol, barely missing George. The brunette ducked then froze in place, knowing he'd been caught.
"Oh, you've really fucked up now, haven't you?" Dream asked amusedly, walking toward the brunette. George turned slowly to see Clay standing behind him. He let one hand rub George's waist up and down seductively until the brunette noticed a bundle of small, black cords in the other. Dream took over, taking George by the hand and using the one still around his hips to spin and dip him dancer-style. He took advantage of the compromised position the suprised George to zip-tie his wrists and legs together. The whole thing was over before the brunette even had time to cry out. Dream dragged the Brit by his ankles through the shattered glass right into the view of the camera.
"Where do these things keep coming from?" George heard Niki cry. He felt tears of fear and stress prick his eyes until they eventually overflowed.
"Are you fucking crying?" Dream spat at George. The brunette only whimpered in response. The murderer's demeanour changed almost immediately, from hateful and threatening to kind and apologetic.
"Oh, my poor baby! Don't cry, love. Everything's okay, I'm just playing," Clay said softly, wiping the tears from George's cheeks. "I'm sorry, darling, I didn't mean to frighten you, I'm just messing around, look. I'll even put your gun down. I'm sorry, baby." George let loose a few more tears, not really registering what Clay was saying to him.
"Why- Why do you keep calling me names?" George whispered. He didn't need to specify which ones he meant.
"Because I love you, and I'm sorry," Clay responded. It didn't make the reason any clearer. "I was never going to hurt you, I couldn't do that." Clay tucked a strand of George's hair behind his ear, letting his hand linger on the brunette's cheek.
"I'm so sorry, darling." Clay began tugging at the restraints that he had wound around George's wrists. The Brit watched in stunned silence as Clay untied him. The sudden mood change was rather disconcerting.
"There you go, sweetheart," Clay whispered, pressing a tiny kiss to George's forehead. "Oh, honey, I feel so bad. You wanted to know who 'Wi' was? His name is Wilbur. He's the leader of a coven I was once a part of. He doesn't like people much, so he lives in Eswatini. You're alright, baby," Clay whispered, stroking George's hair comfortingly as the Brit stared at him in wonder. "I'm not going to hurt yo-"
"Hold it right there, motherfucker! Don't make any sudden movements!"
____________________________________
Word count: 1313
Shit really hits the fan after this chapter so please be careful :)
Luna xx
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Criminal Minds ~ DNF
Fanfic"Why do you stay? After everything I've done, all the people I've killed to get to you, why?" "Because you're not as bad as you make out to be." This is a DNF AU inspired by The Silence Of The Lambs. It follows the storyline till about chapter 8 whe...
