-Clay's POV-
From the minute George's eyes spot that bee plushie, I know something is wrong. Recognition seems to strike him as he picks it up, watching dried blood flake away as he turns the toy over in his hands.
"I..." he stops, squinting at the object. "I... know who this belongs to. Or belonged to, I guess," he corrects, signalling to the blood splattered over the walls.
"There were these people I met once," he continues. "Three of them, that used to live here. I only stumbled across them on accident, after getting injured in the forest once."
George brushes the bee off with his sleeve, trying to remove as much blood as possible. "One of them loved bees, I'm almost certain it has to be his if it's here."
My boyfriend clutches the plush tightly, chewing on his lip furiously in an attempt to bite back tears. His eyes can't seem to focus, darting fearfully between the blood-streaked walls.
I waste no time in taking the frightened boy's hand, pulling him closer and wrapping my arms around him tightly. He pulls his glasses over his eyes in embarrassment, failing to hide the tears already spilling down his cheeks. "I'm so sorry," I mumble quietly, gently brushing away a few droplets before hugging him tighter to my chest.
I spot Nick pacing the room behind George, searching for any other remnants. "There was this guy I knew once that said he had a friend who loved bees," he shrugs. "An elite assassin, that is. Sort of an ex-assassin now. I think he still lives in the area though. His name is-"
"Fundy?" George interjects, pulling away from me when Nick answers with a nod. "He's the guy who used to live here. Wouldn't surprise me if he's an assassin now, he did seem like that sort of person."
"What's that supposed to mean?" I snort. "Do us ex-assassins give off some hostile warning?" George cringes slightly, as if forgetting my past occupation. Even if it was only for a few weeks, I was an assassin once too. "Yeah, you do. Any elite assassins are weird, ex-assassin or not." I pretend to look insulted, deciding its worth it for the small smile that tugs at George's lips.
"So anyway," Nick interrupts loudly. "Yeah, I'm talking about Fundy. Pretty sure he still lives in Central City and looks after this teenage boy or something."
"Toby?"
"Might be. I think he goes by Tubbo or something now. Some weird nickname a friend of his made up, apparently."
"You mean he's still alive?!" George shrieks, grabbing Nick by the shoulders. "So, you stood here and watched me cry over this boy, thinking he was dead, when you knew damn well he wasn't?!" He shakes the assassin's shoulder with every word he spits through gritted teeth.
"Woah!" Nick pulls away with ease, putting some distance between him and George. "I didn't know it was definitely him! It was just a suggestion!"
While the two argue, I decide to look around the room. Something definitely happened here, the place covered in jagged splinters from rotting wood. It's clear that someone was badly injured at least, most likely died.
The blood is denser on the west wall, which is strange when the main entrance is on the south side, with the only other entrance on the east. Yet the place in which the person who died, did, is nowhere near any of the exits.
It looks like whoever was killed was caught off-guard, which would most likely be the work of an assassin. But in a room this covered, the kill looks to be committed by someone inexperienced. Definitely not the work of an assassin, and the person who died doesn't appear to have fought back. Not the work of an elite assassin, that's for sure.
So who made this kill?
And if Tubbo didn't die here, who did?
"Are you two finished?" I ask to the room irritably, waiting for the yelling to die down. "Thanks," I mutter sarcastically. "Nick how confident are you that Fundy and Tubbo are still alive?"
The elite assassin shrugs, shooting a not-so subtle glare in George's direction. "Fairly sure. Haven't seen Fundy in a week or two, but this blood looks to be a lot older than that. And I'm sure he'd have said something if Tubbo had died."
"So who did die here?" I ask aloud, my answer a deathly quiet room. Silence hangs thick in the air for a few seconds, before George decides to break it. "Sapnap did you ever meet a third boy with these two? There were three of them."
"There was a third guy?"
"Well, that answers that question." I smirk at the confusion on Nick's face, earning a light punch to the shoulder. George has gone quiet again, the seemingly lost and distant glossiness returning to his eyes.
"I know who died here then," he mumbles, more to himself than us. His gaze drops to the plush, tracing over the stripes with his thumb. "Karl. He was inseparable from those two, he wouldn't have left them if they'd have relocated."
"They relocated almost a year ago, shortly after the elite assassins formed," Nick cuts in. "That's what I've heard, at least, I was still living with Dream at that time." I cringe at the use of my nickname, hating how it sounds from my best friend's lips.
"Actually, I remember them." Vague memories of a brown-haired boy come to me, accompanied with those of a young teenager. There was something off about him, how he always seemed to rub his wrist like it was aching.
"I think Fundy was still an assassin back then, seemed to get along with Techno really well," I supply. "Tubbo is that boy with the different-coloured eyes, right? Was always really quiet and nervous."
"Yes," Nick nods. "That weird kid. The one that always stuck with Fundy. Makes sense as to why now."
"Different-coloured eyes?" George questions unsurely. "His eyes were the same colour when I met him. Dark blue, I think. Are you sure you're thinking of Toby?"
Nick shoots me a nervous look, and I can tell what he's thinking. The question lingers in his eyes, silently pleading I'll ask instead.
"George... no offence..." I mumble, rubbing my neck awkwardly as I fail to keep eye contact. "But you are colourblind. Tubbo's eyes are definitely two different colours, but they're two shades of blue. Maybe you just couldn't tell."
To my relief, George seems to understand, tipping my chin slightly so that I face him. Our height difference means I'm still looking down at him, and I notice the gentle way in which his eyelashes flutter and cheeks redden as he blushes over how far he has to look up to meet my eyes.
"Do not even think about it," Nick grumbles from behind. "Save your sappy shit for later, I don't wanna see it."
"Okay Sappynappy," George huffs, stepping away from me. He pushes his glasses back over his eyes, and I blush slightly, knowing he must've realised I was admiring them. "So where did you say these two were now?" he asks, trying to change the subject.
"Probably the same place. It's one of the buildings just a little further west of the marketplace." Nick stops for a second, looking between George and the plushie. "Wait, you aren't seriously considering going there to return that stupid bee, are you?"
"They helped me when I desperately needed it, it's the least I can do-"
"You're fucking crazy!" Nick yells. "That building is owned by Techno, and you're a wanted person, specifically wanted by him! You won't get within ten feet of it!"
"No..." George dwells quietly, pacing around the room. He holds the bee tightly to his chest, eyes refusing to leave the plush as he talks. "You're right, I wouldn't. There's no way I'd get anywhere near it, and Clay wouldn't either-" Suddenly he stops, turning to face Nick with a daring smile.
"But you would."
The assassin rolls his eyes, glaring at George in disbelief. "You're ridiculous. So you want me to bring this little toy to Tubbo?"
"No," George corrects. "I want you to bring Tubbo to us. I'd like to find out what happened here, and if there's any way we could get Karl back. He was a good person, and I think Tubbo probably feels pretty lost without him."
"Shouldn't let him anywhere near where we're staying," I cut in. "You said they get along well with Techno, that wont end well for us. Would have to meet them somewhere they'd trust, most likely both Tubbo and Fundy."
"That back room in the market is vacant tomorrow afternoon," Nick suggests with a shrug. "Techno isn't on that side of the city at that time either, it's probably our best bet. People wouldn't question an elite assassin and ex one meeting in the room that's known to be used by their group. Could get you two in there pretty easily too, as long as we get you some different clothes."
"Is that a yes, then?" George asks smugly, already knowing he's won. "Guess so. But don't blame me if you're murdered by Fundy on the spot. You know damn well you wouldn't be the one I'd save, given the choice."
"I saved your life from Illumina you ungrateful-"
"That's delightful, both of you" I mutter, smirking as the smug grin quickly leaves George's face. "Well it's getting late, and I'd rather not spend the night in a bloody room, so we should probably head elsewhere."
Nick is first to run to the entrance, climbing back down the tree so quickly I'm worried he may fall. "Thank god!" he yells from halfway down. "I can't stay in the same room as George any longer."
I try to follow after Nick, until a tug on my sleeve pulls me away. I'm faced with George, cheeks dusted with a pink blush as he pushes his glasses back up onto his forehead.
My eyes drift to list lips as if by habit, and almost instantly I'm pulled into a kiss. He clumsily presses those rosy lips to mine, still grasping my sleeve in a silent plea to stay here with him a little longer. I return the gesture, gently gripping his hips to steady him as he wobbles on tiptoes to reach my lips.
"Sapnap said he didn't want to see it," George giggles by means of explanation when we pull apart. "So now he doesn't have to."
"Are you two finished yet?" An angry yell suddenly shouts from the bottom of the tree. "I know what you're doing, you can snog your boyfriend another time."
"Shut up Sapnap!"
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Sorry this chapter was a bit dialogue-filled. It's also a bit longer than usual (1.8k) because I decided to add in setup for a kiss as a thanks for dealing with the dialogue.