The next few days passed without incident. He didn’t talk to Megan about anything but professional matters - she was so good at acting like nothing had happened that he almost wondered himself - and he hadn’t heard from Marowitz, either. Nor did he see much of Angie save for a few phone calls from the club. She hadn’t confirmed anything, of course, and they didn’t talk about it, but Gray got the distinct feeling that Moody’s investigation was in operation: Angie was quiet, furtive. She clearly didn’t want anyone to know that her current beau was Civil Protection. He understood, even though he most certainly didn’t like it, and she took great pains to assure him that she was safe and that things were okay. He just told her to talk to him later, to be safe and look out for herself, and put on a brave face for her even though his heart swelled with worry every time he thought about the situation.
He had a lot of time with be with his thoughts. Gray spent his time at the office doing the job, still relegated to desk duty, then going home and dreaming of all manner of horrors. He felt that they should be getting worse, these nightmares, but the constant presence of Angie in the back of his head seemed to combat the wall of darkness. After all, she was what he was doing this for, in a way. Once Moody was either appeased or destroyed, she would be safe.