Sometimes, Anarchy Is Best ~~ Shadows

10.) Clay

Clay watched Rune go limp, pulling back the appendage that had knocked her into such a state. Sorry, kid. I have someone to protect.

He scooped her up in his arms, shifting her around to make it so it wasn't putting much more strain on her wing, which was at least sprained and possibly dislocated, judging from the way her face had twisted in pain when he pulled on it.

Looking around, he tried to see if either of his earlier attackers were still around. When he didn't see anyone, he started making his way back towards the upper part of Westside, where everything was. Please don't come back, he thought hopefully. He knew what awaited him back home, and didn't want more to deal with on top of that.

After what felt like forever of walking, he got into the facility, going through a side door only he and a couple others had the key to, and taking her downstairs to the farthest floor of the basement. It was the furthest point from any door to outside, away from anything and anyone that could free her.

At least, that's what he'd thought before she escaped last time. He still had no idea who helped her do that. She had to have had help, right? There was no way she'd escaped on her own. She had nothing.

He'd tried following Alastair to that meeting of his, but keeping an eye out for him every night had gotten hopeless. Downtown was far too large, and he didn't know where Alastair resided. The enigmatic man somehow had no publicly recorded residence, meaning he either lived outside of Eastwalden -- which was impossible considering they literally had so much nothing between them and the nearest nation that it was literally insane and impossible for Alastair to be here so often – or he had some secret base shit that Clay honestly couldn't be bothered to find.

He took Rune into her old cell, putting chains snugly around her wrists and ankles. He also put some on her wings, but not before making sure he wing was simply sprained and not dislocated. While doing that, he happened to notice the scars on her back, wincing slightly before shaking his head and reminding himself firmly, I did that, and for a good reason. Stop being weak. You're going to do it more as soon as she's awake.

He sighed to himself, stepping back and watching her for a few minutes. That's his sister. I'm literally going to be tying her up and beating information out of her in a few hours, and that's Linus' fucking sister. How twisted am I?

The other voice in his head, the one that seemed to always be trying to piss him off, answered easily. Not at all. You're living. Thriving. You shouldn't be seeing her as your best friend's sister. See her as information. A key. You need to get it out of her or you'll die. Linus will die. Carson will be overthrown.

What if we don't, though? What if it's just... paranoia? What if we're ruining a child's life because of the worry that two men no one's heard from in two years now will go running to their brother? If they had, wouldn't we already be dead? Why is this still going on?

Those were the questions he asked himself all the way back through the hallways, taking the elevator up to the top floor, where Carson's office was. The president practically never left, especially these past couple weeks. He'd stayed in here, calling Clay up for a report on his findings every time he returned without her.

Reminding him of the price of failing.

What if he's the threat? What if we're dying at his hands more than we were ever at the risk of dying at Dio's?

He shook the thought away. That was treasonous thought, questions he shouldn't even be thinking of thinking. Carson hadn't called Clay this time, meaning he no doubt saw Clay on the cameras bringing her in. He knew Clay would be doing exactly this, locking her up and then coming up to him. It wasn't like the Kiophao did anything else with his life than do Carson's dirty work and then report.