The sound of the police siren faded as each and every cop car disappeared. Even with all the begging, nothing was done to prevent them from leaving. How did they sound saying the killer disappeared in thin air? They sounded crazy. In the end, they suspected that one of the parents could handle raising the kid and killed them. Clayton watched his wife's expression change from sad to furious after they officially left from her sight.
"Clay," He looked the other way to head into the house. He knew what the question would be. No he didn't do it. He knew what he saw. He'd seen that murderer as plain as day. "Don't ignore me!" Yasmine continues to follow him, not exactly getting her question out, but not exactly hiding either. After a while, she furiously grabbed hold of the other shoulders to face him. Once again, with one touch, he found himself spouting everything that ran in his head.
"YAS, I DIDN'T DO IT!" Clayton's voice caused waves to flow around the house. He told her about the Espionage of Despair. How she looked, how she moved, how she easily made her way out of the room. He also told her about the hard things. About how hard it was to call the cops, how hard it was to hold a bloody six month old and a dog, and most importantly how hard it was to tell the truth. Yasmine didn't see anything so basically everything fell on him. He felt alone. Instead of feeling continuous pressure being squished upon him, he felt the wrapping of arms.
"I just wanted to ask if you're alright." Yasmine's whisper sended waves of eeriness through the other's body. Here he was thinking she was gonna accuse him, when she already knew better. Clearly he was not alright. He needed to rest, rest anywhere, anywhere but here. He reached his hand to distance himself from her soft grasp. As he sighed, the sound of a familiar ringing was enough to wash away the comfort of every moment.
It came from upstairs, in their room. As the device rang, Clay couldn't help but wonder who it was that found this moment too good to pass up. He looked at his wife, half expecting her to have a grumpy look on her face. It was probably work asking where he was. If she didn't want him to go, he wouldn't. He'd call out and spend today with her. Instead she looked… confident.
"Clay." Her gaze didn't budge. Her eyes burned holes in him as she spoke. "You better get that bitch, before I do." With those words Clayton found enough courage to head upstairs to see who called.
But this time, the walk down the hallway was much more sinister. With each photograph, it seemed like a laugh to the face. The wedding photo, a symbol of a marriage that was surly, was fated to erode as long as he kept his paranoia lingering. Sage's birth certificate. The mockery for the last two years they've tried. Now gone. The thought of raising their daughter was gone. Every appointment. Every celebration amounted to nothing, but the world's smallest body bag. And lastly, the image of him and Yasmine holding their newly adopted dog. Kudo, was a gift left to him by his sister. He loved the way Kudo's fur would shed when he first got his apartment. Well… he didn't, but he really wishes he did now. He remembers when he first used Kudo to get the attention of Yasmine's.
Yasmine was hanging out with some friends when she first caught his eyes. The way her braids perfectly laid around her waist. Her smile when she was told a joke seemed as if she was listening to a professional comedian itself. No matter what, her smile always seemed genuine. And glowing. Apparently… Kudo also felt that way as well. Clayton had left the animal off his leash to play with other dogs as he took time to breathe in the fresh air. It wasn't long before he realized that Kudo would leave dead things by the woman's foot every visit. Every visit after, he would make it his mission to send over a love note.
"I haven't thought about that in years." Clayton reached to wrap his fingers around the photo that caused him to dream about so long ago. "Gosh, how long has it been?" Still wanting to know who was repeatedly calling, Clayton opened his door to see his phone sitting so gently on the nightstand.
NATHAN ARCHER
Clayton watched as the name danced along his phone. Why was he calling? I haven't heard his name since… Clayton didn't want to think about it. Still stupidly reached over and pressed answer.
"Gosh, I thought you'd never answer." His voice was coarse. The way he slurred his words made a clear sign of drinking. This early in the morning? It wasn't even ten yet!
"What is it, Nate?" He leaned against the stand as he spoke. He didn't need this. He needed to go to work. He needed to learn everything about Despair. Instead he got a face full of information. Apparently, while he was gone the business decided to have meaning, an assignment meaning. Leaving him and Nathan working in the Espionage Case. As the other talked, Clayton couldn't help but feel his eyebrow twitch. Nathan was terrible with evidence and was even worse with photography. The only reason he even had the shot of working here was because his father owned the damn place.
"Anything else." Anyone with common sense could hear his defeated breathy voice from a mile away. Anyone, but Nate.
"Now don't act shy. You're excited to work with me, admit it." His obliviousness made Clay almost want to hang up and throw the phone. But still, he resisted the urge to do so. For the next few minutes, Clayton gave a quick run down of plans. They would separate for slight interviews and research, but end the day meeting up and reviewing what they went over. After both agreeing and setting times. Clayton hung up to get dressed.
Clayton was already halfway dressed before the cops arrived, so all he really had to do was pick the appropriate shirt. After a while (and a couple of random texts from Nathan). He was finally ready to leave. After a few seconds, his once happy mood was clouded with the happenings of recent events. His daughter was gone. Even though he was determined, when he came home… it will just be Yasmine. No Sage. Could he really leave her alone? His thoughts wandered about the possibilities of leaving a sad, depressed, childless person alone. After a while, he eventually made his way downstairs and to his wife.