It was dark outside, the rain hammering down on the roof of the small confined room. A video camera set up in the corner of the room directed straight to the middle of the room where a wet Niall Horan sat in a wooden chair, feet strapped to the frame with metal shackles. His head was lolled to one side from where he had passed out for what felt like the eighteenth time that night.
He had been walking to the local coffee shop to grab something a little stronger than what they served at the precinct. He had been half way through running a search when he'd run out of his ninth cup of coffee. He wasn't even fully aware of what evidence he'd even found before he was knocked unconscious and dragged into the back of a van and driven far out into the middle of nowhere.
In front of Niall's limp body was a small woodwork table where only a laptop and a desk lamp sat surrounded by tin cans and several empty cups that were once filled with water.
The only light in the room came from the turn on desk lamp that cast the light straight onto Niall's face, completely missing a figure in the back corner of the room by the main door.
Michael Clifford paced around the floor in front of him, tugging at his red hair with his eyes squeezed tightly shut.
"How?!" He yelled, throwing down his continuously ringing phone onto the floor, barely even flinching when the screen shattered and the back broke off, sliding across the floor. "How did he find me? I was so fucking careful!" He screamed, running a hand over his face, his shadow from the lamp behind him covered Niall's limp body completely. His mind raced trying to figure out how the polices' computer nerd had managed to work everything out. "I covered every angle, I was careful, he shouldn't have found me!" He yelled again, raising his fist ready to take a swing at his already unconscious victim.
"Michael, calm down." A low voice spoke up from the corner of the room, the light not quite reaching their face. "You've clearly made more than one mistake over the course of our training." The figures words were so nonchalant that Michael's anger continued to bubble up inside of him.
"Don't," He bit "Don't fucking start with me!" He yelled, pointing at his mentor. "I have been so fucking careful since the beginning. I didn't leave anything behind that would have pointed towards me. Why did you even bring me into this if I'm such a fucking liability?"
"I never said you were a liability, Michael." The figure responded, folding their arms over their chest. "You've always had skills I never did, opportunities I never got. You've always been the smart one and I needed your skills; I needed someone I could trust. I trust no one more than I do you, you know that."
"Tell me how to fix this." Michael's anger had quickly depleted after he heard the word 'trust'. "You always fix things, help me please." His green eyes were pleading like he was back to being five years old again.
"I don't know how." The other sighed. "Unless..." They trailed off, their mind working in overdrive to think of a solution.
"Unless?" Michael took a few strides over to the figure, towering over their smaller frame.
"You have to tell them about me." Michael rose an eyebrow before shaking his head.
"No. Not a chance.""Come on," the other laughed, running a hand through their own hair. "let yourself get caught, be taken in for questioning and cut a deal. I can't have you going away for as long as I will. I was the selfish one who brought you into this, you didn't deserve this. I should have thought about what effect this would have had on you if we'd have gotten caught. I'm sorry, Mikey." The smaller one brought Michael into a hug, wrapping their arms around his shoulders.
"I chose to be here, you didn't drag me into anything I didn't want to be involved in. Styles deserved this." Michael buried his face in the others shoulder.
"That might be true, but I shouldn't have included you. I put everything you had at risk." Their voice held nothing but sincerity as they looked at the green eyes of their pupil. The pair pulled away from one another, Michael walking towards the front door in the far side of the room.
Opening the door, he turned back to his partner, ignoring the torrent of rain that poured down onto his right shoulder. He had to leave, he knew that somewhere in the back of his mind. The pair couldn't have Styles finding Niall too quickly, it needed to be drawn out, the anticipation of getting their geek back in one piece was something that brought the pair a little joy.
"Still looking out for me?" Michael laughed, although it wasn't quite real.
"It's my job little brother."
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A little short I know, but this little reveal has been in the works for a while and I'm finally glad to have it work out. Not quite revealing the main killer yet but I'm slowly getting there, maybe one or two chapters left? I think it'll be that long anyway.
Please let me know what you think! ~ Gemma
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Nefarious {Harry Styles A.U}
FanfictionDetective Harry Styles has been haunted by the case of a killer for three years. Every piece of evidence they've had has never been a significant clue as to who it was they were looking for. All they knew was that all the murders were connected. Ha...