It had been three months since that day. Much had changed. Much had not. Wayne Tech had been shut down for an entire month as a precaution if Clayface returned for vengeance. After the initial month had passed, there still had been no sign of Clayface. With no other alternative, management was forced to reopen Wayne Tech. The employees and premises were all constantly guarded by security and police, but still, there was never a sighting of Clayface.
Although they did not see Clayface during those three months, his presence was all around them. He was there in their uneasy, disjointed laughter as they tried to go on with their guilt ridden lives. His presence plagued the office not unlike the musty smoke venting from the boiler room. He was there, deep inside each and every one of them, shaking them to their very core. They had no idea when, where, or how he would attack them.
Sadly, they also never truly understood why he would attack them.
Despite their consuming anxiety, they were forced to go on with their lives without anymore security or police watch. As they approached the third month with still no sign of Clayface, Commissioner Gordon just could not justify diverting man power and police resources to 24 hour surveillance of Wayne Tech any longer. No one told the truth, the whole truth to the police. Surely they told the police that Clayface had walked among them and how after being exposed, he jumped through the window out of the building. They did not, nay, they could not tell the police about who John Andrews really was, and what he had meant to them. They were perhaps more afraid to confront themselves than confront Clayface.
So on the first day of the third month Wayne Tech opened without any extra protective measures, save the additional security guards and surveillance system recently installed. The days had grown colder and the weather was overcast. The day went on miserably normal. Listless faces abounded as each worker was preoccupied with their shared sense of vulnerability.
Ms. Stevenson had become distant and turned inwards after the incident. Never again, she swore to herself. Depressingly, she meant it. For the rest of her days she would never truly trust another human being again. Her days unraveled as if she were an automaton programmed to conduct business and oversee the workers; nothing more, nothing less. At night, alone, every so often she would be visited by memories of a good friend she once had. Just as quickly she would remember that everything she liked about him was a mere illusion. She never showed it, in fact she never showed any emotion at all hereafter, but she was terrified Clayface would return and exact his revenge on them, and it was only a matter of time. His goodness was as deceiving as the clay that composed him, or so she wanted to believe.
Of all people, Clayton Matthews drew no long term satisfaction from the demise of John Andrews. All along Clayton wanted John out of the picture, but was he himself ready to step into his place? Clayton never could, nor even legitimately wanted to be the life of the office or an ambitious worker. He merely wanted things to just go back to the way they were. John had brought change to their dingy, woeful work environment. John had brought hope, to which Clayton returned despair. Arrogantly, Clayton did not genuinely fear a strike by Clayface. A part of him could not feasible be afraid of something he had yet to experience. He reassuringly dismissed that Clayface would ever return for the single reason that in three months, he had not.
To close the first day without police protection, Ms. Stevenson called everyone in for a meeting. Amid the litigation, she stoically hearkened to everyone to keep on working and to not get distracted. The meeting room was no longer a social gathering place. Rather it had degenerated back into just another lifeless four walled room devoid of any energy.
Upon the meeting's conclusion, Ms. Stevenson dismissed everyone for the day. Each worker gathered their belongings and headed out of Wayne Tech. One employee however, decided to say a little longer in the meeting room and tidy it up a bit. Ms. Stevenson took notice of this and said, "Dawn, you're free to leave." As if a mouse had voice, Dawn replied, "…I know, but I just wanna straighten the room up a bit. It's a mess here." Ms. Stevenson wanted to wish her a good night, but she found herself already coldly walking out the room and then out the building before realizing she had said nothing at all to Dawn.