Clay lay in his back, on what could only be described as a plank for a bed, the mattress it it could be called that, was unsubstantial and over the past two nights he had barely slept. How could he, even without the discomfort, the coldness and the smell from the bucket in the corner he was still in grief. His eyes were red with grief from crying, yet they had still accused him of his best friends murder. over the past couple of day’s he’d been questioned for hours on end, that god forsaken light constantly being shone in his tired eyes. Hell, he’d even been tempted to lie and say he was guilty- But he was innocent, and his pride wouldn’t allow him to lie and treat his situation so lightly. If he lied the only thing that would change would be that they’d stop interrogating him- He’d still be rotting in a dank cell either way.
However nothing in this experience had prepared him for his visitor. Trucy, sweet, cheerful Trucy of whom he’d had the occasional conversation with was now sat in front of his cell, her features stony and her eyes so very sharp to the point that he could practically see Apollo’s face in hers. Deep down he’d hoped that her or Phoenix would have swung by to defend him, Apollo had sung his mentors praises in them believing in their client and finding the truth. However his hope was very quickly extinguished as the face opposite him seemed to have already determined his guilt . Of course he knew the truth, sadly the truth and what others believe is the truth are often very different things.
“You think I did it don’t you?” He asked, not able to deal with the crushing silence anymore, he knew she wanted to say it, that notion was written on the girls face as plain as day.
When finally able to see Clay, Trucy felt a tug on her heart. His usually enthusiastic eyes now looked wrecked and red with tears (crying from regret at what he’d done?) Some part of her, a part she very much tried to squash, wanted to reach out to Clay and hug him and cry until Apollo would come and scold them for ever thinking he was dead. How had they ever gotten in this mess?
And then she remembered. Murder. Apollo. Clay. When Clay spoke she suddenly had no trouble answering exactly how this mess came about: him. She had thought of asking Daddy to defend him, to at least hear him out but even the thought of the astronaut had sent her to a dark, angry place. “Yes,” she responded. “There was no other person there who could’ve done it. I’ve worked with… Polly… for long enough to know that blind faith in a client only leads to excusing the crimes they actually did commit.” She sucked in a breath, internally priding herself on being able to keep a steady tone, perhaps a skill she picked up working with Apollo.
“I wanted to believe in you, Clay,” she whispered honestly. “But I don’t know why I came here. I don’t know if I wanted to look his killer in the eyes, or see if you regretted it, or just ask why.” Of course, the logical thing would be to turn back and rest easy knowing Apollo’s murderer was in agony. But there was absolutely no way she was going to do that. She wanted to talk.
The girls sadness and anger were tangible as her eyes remained fixed on him, right now Clay would have given anything to have Apollo pop his head around the corner and tell them that they had been ‘punk’d’. Sadly life didn’t work that way usually, there was no way Apollo was coming back, after all he had been the one that found the body.
Trucy’s response cut him deep, sure he’d expected her to say as much given how she was reacting to him.
“I wish I could give you those answers, but I didn’t do it. Do you think I’d honestly kill by best friend? The same friend that had been my rock all these years.” He tried to keep his voice level even as tears began to well up in his eyes. “I was gone for ten minutes. Ten minutes!” Sadness and frustration was strangling him, as his voice cracked and warbled. “I didn’t expect to see him there… On the floor.”
“He wasn’t breathing, so I tried to revive him, no matter how many times I pressed his chest, or blew air into his lungs, he didn’t respond.”
“Even after calling the ambulance I tried and tried, I couldn’t give up on him, he didn’t deserve it.” His voice cracked as his shoulders shook with the effort of not breaking down. “He… He was still warm… “ Heavy tears rolled down his cheeks as he pressed his head against the cool bars of his cell.
“That will be forever etched in my mind, I will not forget what his killer did, and that they’re walking around outside, laughing at us.”
As Clay spoke, Trucy could see the tears welling up in his eyes, the far off look and the total sadness. She didn't notice lies in anything he said, only seeing the reality of what he was saying. He'd tried to save Apollo, at least that was his story. His best friend.
Clay pressed his head to the metal bars of his cell and trailed of at the mention of Apollo's killer: the final nail in the coffin. Whoever it was, someone had taken her pseudo-brother. Someone had ripped him from the world, from the people that loved and believed in him. It was no secret Apollo was one of the people she felt closest to, he was always there for her, even more now that Daddy was focused most on his career. And now that was gone. No more magic acts he didn't want to participate in but did just for her. No more investigating. No more Apollo.
According to Clay, Apollo had been that strength to him too. Not only them, Klavier, Athena, Vera, all people Apollo had helped.
Still, she couldn't forget the overwhelming evidence pointing to Clay. Kristoph had forged a fake friendship with Daddy only to bring him down. Trucy had seen the various masks evil could wear. She had to be sure.
"Clay," she said, clearing her mind and focusing solely on him. "I need you to look at me. Look me in the eyes and answer me: did you kill Apollo?" With a quick final thought, she added, "or in any cause his death"