Chapter Text
Dream is a slippery bastard, he thinks as he watches him through the one sided mirror, and a fucking coward for not showing his face for so long.
George watches his co-workers Bad— a loving nickname courtesy of the office— and Sam question him to no avail as he pleads the Fifth.
He knows what he wants. Bad and Sam know what he wants. Hell, the entire office knows what Dream wants, and giving it to him might just be the only way to make him talk.
George unlocks the door to the interview room.
They both turn to look at him as he steps in, eyes wide.
“I’ll take it from here.” George says firmly.
Bad swallows— and lifts from the chair slowly. Sam follows hesitantly.
“Are you sure about this, George?” Bad whispers to him as he passes him in the doorway.
“I’m sure.”
He nods solemnly. “He’s cuffed.”
“I’m aware.”
With that, they exit the interview room.
The first thing Detective Davidson does as he steps further into the room is uncuff the suspect, and takes a seat opposite him.
“Dream.” He says, head held high.
“Detective.” Dream rasps, laying rough, scarred hands out on the table.
October 2018.
Cold air rumbles in his ears, rain soaks his clothes as he stands dumbfounded at the third body found this week.
The area is cordoned off, police officers on site redirecting civilians away from the grizzly scene. He steps cautiously around the crime scene photographers in order to get a closer look at where seemingly gallons of blood is coming from.
The sight is chilling.
“Axe wounds again?”
“Sure are.” Nikki replies.
George scowls. “There’s no way he’s just sneaking up on these people. There has to be something else.” He shrugs. “Alcohol? Drugs? Anything that could incapacitate them?”
“The cause of death for the last two bodies were blood loss from the wounds. I couldn’t find a trace of anything else.”
George wraps his arms around himself. The cold and rain is beginning to give him a headache. “So that’ll be the same for this one, won’t it?”
The victim, who looks to be male, grey— possibly blond— haired, and muscular is riddled with deep wounds, painting almost every inch of him crimson. If George weren’t so used to sights like this, he’d be feeling ill.
Nikki looks around, “What’s he doing under a bridge anyway? Shortcut?”
“Or he was lured here.”
“Huh?”
“Who would willingly take a shortcut beneath a damp, mouldy bridge? Where would he be going anyway? Look around,” George gestures to the area around them with his hands, “there’s no cameras anywhere. It’s a blind spot.”
“What do you think lured him here?”
He sticks his hands in his pockets, “Don’t know. We’ll have to get a warrant to search his phone or computer. Until then we’ll have to ask relatives and close friends about anything out of the ordinary they might’ve noticed about him.”
Nikki and George watch the victim get lifted into a body bag and onto a stretcher in silence— George’s thoughts run at light speed.
“I’ll have to head back to the morgue. I’ll have the results dropped off at the office by morning.” Nikki says, beginning to turn in the direction of her car.
“I’ll come with you-“
She stops him, “George.”
George frowns.
“Go home. You’ve had a long history of getting hung up on cases that you haven’t been assigned to.” She shakes her head, “Get some sleep. It’s two in the morning.” She says softly before finally turning around, disappearing from his sight not long after.
George has been losing sleep. Maybe it’s obvious by the dull mauve colouring his lower eyelids, but the case could use an additional detective, even if he hasn’t been assigned to it. It’s not as though there’s been any breakthroughs recently.
He wouldn’t call it getting ‘ hung up ’ on it, however. He wouldn’t call it an ‘ obsession ’ as he’s been told before.
He looks back at where the last of the forensic cleaners are clearing off the grey brick walls.
“Hold on.”
The cleaners seem to catch on to what George sees.
On the brick, in dark green paint, are the words ‘Dream was here’, a crude smiley face sprayed beneath the three words. It almost blended in with the colour of the congealed blood.
George takes out his phone and hastily snaps a picture of the sentence before taking a cab back to the office.