Homocide Fifty || DNF

2. Conscious

"That is one hundred percent a dagger in his hand, isn't it?" George says, still with wide eyes. 

"I don't know. It just looks like an object in his hand." Karl says, squinting his eyes to get a better look at the pixelated dagger.

"What if he left the dagger somewhere there?" George asks with a hint of surprises at his own thought. Karl only gives him an annoyed look.

"He's smarter than that. The only thing we can use this for, is ask citizens if they've seen a guy running around in that outfit and hope for the best," Karl sighs.

George realises that they'd gotten too excited over something very minimal, only because they'd never gotten any kind of evidence of him.

George spends the rest of his day replaying the clip on his computer in his office, though he doesn't find anything. Karl has sent him the clip through e-mail, and that seems to worsen the quality even more, so eventually he gives up and collects his bag, leaving the building.

He goes to bed with a lot of thoughts that night, and his bed seems to have roughened up throughout the day. He feels as if it's not soft anymore, and he can't find a good sleeping position.

He only gets 4 hours of sleep that night.

So he decides to treat himself a little before heading to work the next morning. He grabs a coffee from Starbucks, dazing upon the many pastries that lay in front of him. He resists and thinks about lunch instead.

"Morning, George," Wilbur says as they meet, both of them heading to their office in the same hallway.

"Morning. Anything new?" George yawns, dark bags very visible under his eyes. He yawns again before Wilbur says anything, adjusting the tie on his suit.

"Not really," Wilbur shrugs, "Punz said that they didn't find a dagger anywhere, and they're still looking through the pile."

George groans out of frustration, "my god, i thought we were getting somewhere," he frustratedly says, running both hands through his hair.

Wilbur smiles softly as they reach the end of the hallway, "don't lose hope," he says before closing the door to his office. George only rolls his eyes in response.

George has a lot of paperwork to do today that doesn't revolve around the Dream case. He's finalizing a case that he solved months ago, but he wonders why Quackity can't do it since he was also on the case. He smiles cockily at himself because he knows how good he is.

When lunch comes around, George joins Karl and Quackity who are sitting at the table. There's also a few unfamiliar faces, but he doesn't bat an eye.

"You look busted, dude," Quackity laughs, looking at George who gives him a sassy look in return.

He looks up at the both of them who have now broken into small giggles. He can't help but smile. He loves how Quackity can always make him smile. "I thought the coffee made me look a little less busted, asshole," he retorts, sticking out his tongue.

Karl breaks into the conversation, "any updates?" He asks. George scarcely disapproves, looking at him while he munches on an apple.

"What about the note? Any fingerprints?" Karl asks. That's when George remembers he's yet to do that.

"Me and Wilbur are checking the note in like, 30 minutes," he says.

It reminds him of when he was late to Wilbur's concert. 30 minutes.

Wilbur doesn't do concerts as often anymore, but sometimes he tries to fit them in in-between work.