| Jiminy Cricket, where are you when I need you? |

~***~

Clyde exits the jail and walks through the hallway with a solid plan in mind to get Mona out. The Jiminy Cricket in his head keeps asking him why he's helping this girl, and he refuses to answer truthfully. He keeps making up various excuses like he's done for about a week now, but he still cannot come to the real conclusion. He refuses to admit the truth because he knows that he could lose his job, and many other things, over this kid.

Clyde's stride comes to a staggering halt when he notices an all too familiar face in the office area, speaking to his brother-in-law and sister. Clyde rolls his eyes, "what're you doing here, Agent?" Donna smiles with relief as her brother finally steps in.

"I came to do my job," Benedict looks Clyde up and down like a rodent, "unlike you."

Clyde rests his hands on his hips, "I am doing my job. I was just questioning our suspect, and was about to suggest a relocation --"

"What?" Donna barks, "re-location? Why?"

"This is none of your concern, little lady," Benedict adjusts his tie and curls his lips at Clyde, "this is now official FBI business." Donna's head jerks back with an aghast expression on her face. She looks over to Clyde, silently begging him to say something in return.

Clyde looks down at his feet, and then to his little sister with a shrug, "sorry, Donna. You did a great job, but we have to take it from here."

"But --" Donna starts, but Clyde lifts his hand.

"Don't worry. We'll take her far away from here," he sighs, "she won't be able to hurt anyone anymore. You did your job, now please," he cranes his neck and looks at her with his puppy eyes, "let me do mine."

Donna pouts with her arms crossed over her chest and lets out a huff. "Fine," she mumbles as the agent's nod around her. Benedict grabs Clyde's shoulder, and it causes his arms to fall to his sides. He turns with Benedict's hand, staring at it until his eyes flicker up into the icy stare he despises.

"I'll go take her myself, Clyde," he lowers his hand, "I know that could be difficult for you - since you were undercover with her this whole time."

Clyde shrugs Benedict's hand off with a furrowed line above his brow, "What the hell is that supposed to mean, Agent?"

"Well, you always get too connected. That is why you were on paid leave before you walked in on this case - wasn't it?" Benedict asks with an oh-so-innocent demeanour. Clyde grits his teeth while Donna and Frank stare at him wide-eyed.

"That's why you were taking time off? I thought you planned to have that vacation time?" Donna asks with a wobbling voice. Clyde shoves his hands in his pockets and nods off Benedict. Benedict follows his silent order and walks to the jail with a few agents by his side.

"Agent," Clyde catches Benedict's attention, "go easy on her. She's just a kid."

Benedict smiles wickedly, "I expected you to say something like that to me," he turns around, "you know she tricked you, Agent Martin," he looks over his shoulder, "and yet you still care about her well being - even if she can't care for you," he walks off, disappearing down the hallway.

"Clyde?" Donna gently turns her brother's chin so he's facing her again, "is it true?"

"I won't grow too attached again, I promise," Clyde mumbles, trying to turn away, but Donna stops him. He groans and huffs as he faces her again, this time with his hands on his hips.

"That's not what I was talking about. Were you really laid off because you were too attached?"

"I wasn't laid off," he scratches his neck, "I was on paid leave. There's a difference."

"You need to tell me the truth next time, okay?" Donna crosses her arms and lifts an eyebrow, "besides, Benedict's an asshole. He shouldn't have said that in front of everyone. That's your business, not his."

"Yeah, I figured out he was an asshole a long time ago," Clyde looks over his shoulder, "he's been trying to get me demoted so he can take my position. He feels he's better suited for the job," Clyde looks off to the hallway, "and sometimes I think that maybe he is --"

"He's doing what?" Donna barks. Clyde rolls his eyes; he consistently forgets his sister gets emotional when people pick on him.

"Don't you ever let him convince you that you're no good for this job," Donna puts a hand on his shoulder, "you're perfect for it because you care. That's why you were promoted, remember?"

"Yeah, yeah."

"And that's why you joined the FBI," Donna steps back, "and I joined the police for the same reasons as you --" her eyes glance over Clyde's shoulder, and she notices Benedict and the other agents entering with Mona, "-- that sonofabitch," Donna growls with peering eyes. Clyde instinctively holds Donna back, making sure she doesn't tackle Benedict right then and there.

He resists the urge to turn around because he can't look at her. If he looks at her, it'll all be over for him. He needs to forget about Mona, and do his job. He needs to bring justice.

Clyde feels Donna is calmer now and releases her from his careful grip. He turns around and instantly regrets it - forgetting he was trying to avoid doing that. Clyde's eyes meet Mona's for a moment; her eyes gloss with trepidation, and her hands are absolutely still. She is not even attempting to escape.

'What's she thinking right now? What's on her mind?' Clyde ponders to himself.

Clyde looks away, cursing silently to himself. Clyde is now trapped; he cares too much about her. He's grown too attached again.

~***~

I watch Clyde as he drives, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. Who knows what goes on in that man's head. I turn away when he glances at me, probably wondering why I'm just staring at him. I find myself looking between the road and the glove department, my stomach churns and my body feels cold and empty. That could be just because I haven't eaten in a while, but it might also be something else. The bull**** won't leave me alone; it always returns to haunt me.

House of The Rising Sun is ironically playing on the radio right as we turn off of the main road, and start driving in the wilderness. The sunrise shines through the small openings in the trees around us, leaving a soft glow around Clyde's profile. I bounce on my seat as the ruble beneath the truck becomes uneven the deeper we go. Once in awhile, I'll see a mailbox and a dirt road leading to a hidden home. But for the most part, there's just a lot of trees and seclusion from society. I think I like it here, but that little cat in my stomach won't stop clawing away at me.

I lift up the napkin, "1132 Sicklevan Road," I look outside with hooded eyelids, "more like' the sickle-man' road - since someone could get murdered out here," I smirk at Clyde. He doesn't budge, so I elbow him, "get it, because we're in the middle of nowhere, and it's easy for someone to -" I roll my eyes, "- ugh, forget it."

He leans forward, examining his surroundings in hopes of finding our destination. "The only thing I'd need to worry about is the teenage girl sitting beside me," he lifts an eyebrow at me, "but I don't think I need to worry. She'd probably just kill the Sickle-man herself."

I can't hold back the smile as I lightly punch him. "Nah, I'd just watch you outrun him - tiring him out with your cheetah agility."

"I don't run that fast," he raises both of his eyebrows with a smirk, "you're just slow."

"You have too much energy," I shove the napkin in my back pocket, "must've learned that at the academy," I freeze, looking ahead of me with my lips in a line.

"Yeah, I had to do a lot of physical training," he clears his throat, "I think that's the place - right at the end of the road like Ralph said," he points straight ahead of us, and I look in the general direction with a nod.

"Looks like it," I mumble as we pull into the gravel driveway. We drive for a whole minute and a half before we see the house. It's really tiny and oddly familiar. It's like I've seen it in another life or something.

The vertical wood panelling covers the right side of the house, while the other part is auburn masonry. The roof looks like one piece that covers the rectangle home at a tilted angle. It looks like a shed, but bigger. Clyde pulls the gear to park, "Ralph said we have to walk north from this location," he checks his gun for bullets before tucking it back in his jeans.

"How will we know if we're going the right way? Won't we need a compass or something?" I ask while checking my own gun before putting it back. Clyde's eyes light up, and he quickly leans over me, opening his glove department. He slaps various objects aside until he pulls out an old golden compass. The attached chain laces through his fingers like a golden waterfall as he holds it in front of me.

"Wow, it's so pretty," I note as I examine the antique in his palm. His smile is reminiscent as he continues to gaze at it a moment longer. He puts it around his neck and holds it out in front of him, "why didn't you use that when you parked your truck in the woods?"

Clyde's constant thoughtful expression quickly fades as he pouts at me with a cocked eyebrow. "I forgot I had this until you brought it up," he steps out of the truck, and I follow. We walk up to the house, and Clyde starts going around it while I walk straight to the front door.

"Wait, maybe we should check this place out first," I cuff my eyes as I look through the front window, "it looks like nobody's lived here for years."

"We have to find the camp, find the note from your mother, and move on," Clyde hesitates, "you said we were gonna forget the bull****."

"This ain't bull****, Clyde," I pout at him, "I mean, aren't you curious how Ralph knew about this place?" I ask with crossed arms. Clyde ponders my question with one hand on his hip, and the other scratching his stubble. The compass dangling around his neck shimmers in my eye as his body shuffles, and he finally sighs.

"No," he looks over his shoulder, "we don't wanna lose time."

"Fine," I grumble as I stomp behind him, walking around the tiny home. We hike our way through the woods, and Clyde constantly flickers his eyes from the compass and our path.

He points out a little to the right, "over there. I think I see something."

We cautiously hike up the hill and find ourselves on a dirt road that leads straight to a giant concrete wall. It looks like we stepped into the future. That wall is huge; maybe going up 20 feet in the air. The gate looks like it's made of steel, and there are two men standing in front of it. Clyde pulls me back, ducking us behind a bush.

A jeep van drives down the road from behind us, and we watch it approach the camp entrance. There are at least a dozen kids in the back, and they look like they were picked up from church or something. They're very clean and dressed up nicely. Clyde exchanges a look with me before we continue watching the scene. The guards out front are in US Army uniforms, and one of them looks in the back of the jeep. He opens it up and allows the kids to walk out. Then a few adults follow behind, and they all reveal the serpent tattoo on their chests before entering the camp with the kids.

I look at Clyde and stare at his slightly exposed chest with a smirk. He looks down at me uncomfortably, and then his shirt with the most confused demeanour. "What?" he whispers quietly.

"I know how to get both of us in there," I move his shirt to reveal his bare chest, "but we need to recruit you into the family first."

~***~

"I can't believe you talked me into this," Clyde grumbles as he clutches his shirt over his chest. I swat his hand away, allowing the fabric to fall loose; revealing his fresh serpent tattoo.

"This is the only way we can both go in there," I adjust my maroon cardigan, "if we're both searching for the note, it will go by a lot faster -" I dust off my flower dress, "besides, you'll probably have access to some forbidden places in there since you're a recruiter - and I bet you that's where she would leave the note," I roll my eyes, "Ma loves playing challenging games..."

"But I look ridiculous - we look ridiculous! This is a bad idea," he groans as he walks uncomfortably in his new clothes.

"Everyone looked like Jehovah's witnesses there, so I assume we should too," I push my hair back, "it's all about appearances, Clyde," I add with a wink. He just pouts at me with squinted eyes, probably regretting everything.

We eventually approach the gate, and the guards aim their guns at us. Clyde and I both raise our hands in the air.

"Hey, wait, she's a new recruit!" Clyde yells so they can hear us in the distance. The one guard walk up to us, and tugs Clyde's shirt, looking at his tattoo. He releases the fabric as Clyde lifts an eyebrow, and he waves some hand signal to the other guard at the gate.

"You miss the transport?" the guard asks as he walks us to the opening gate. We lower our hands and follow behind.

"Yeah, she was a --" Clyde flinches at me with a shrug, "-- a nervous one, and we took a little longer than I'd hoped."

"Ah, I see," the guard smiles at me and pats my head, "well you made the right choice, little lady. We're your family now, and we'll take good care of ya."

"Mhmm," I nod with a forced smile, and the man releases my head. I fix my hair, and Clyde rests his hand on the small of my back. We stop at the gate and watch as a jeep is driving toward us.

"They'll take you to base. Orientation is starting soon, so you made it just in time," the guard says as the jeep stops in front of us. I take a moment to examine the environment, and it looks like farm fields for miles with a lot more trees blocking the camp base. Me and Clyde step in the vehicle and they shut us in before tapping on the back of the jeep. We drive away, and I watch with a spinning gut as the gates eerily close behind us. I clutch Clyde's hand, and he responds with a gentle squeeze. We just isolated ourselves in a government facility, and we never even considered how to get out of this place.

══════════════════

Hey! If you like what you're reading, you can let me know by voting on each chapter and/or commenting to share your support! Thank you so much for reading :D