Every Day is Exactly the Same

Chapter Eleven: Friction

They took every precaution they could think of: he was handcuffed to the table, the cuffs hooked through a loop in the table and shackles were around each foot, attaching him to the chair legs. At least they afforded him the luxury of being able to sit up.

He hadn't been left alone, either. Evangeline sat in the room with him, sitting across the metal able. They'd been sitting in silence for the last thirty minutes, staring at each other, reading each other.

"You know," she finally started. "I remember you."

Wesley's eyes moved to hers, but he said nothing.

She gave a small smile. "Yeah, I do. I saw you next to an ATM. You were all beat up and bloody. So many people walked right by you," she paused, tapping her finger on the table. "But I saw you.

"And I remember thinking that it was weird that there was this man sitting just blocks away from a crime scene I'd just left. I'm sure you remember it, right? The Mill? Over a dozen bodies scattered through every level. First floor looked like an army had gone through it. But do you want to know my favorite floor? The one that had all of us scratching our heads?"

Wesley didn't respond, not that she thought he would.

Evie pulled a photo from the folder she'd brought in. She placed it on the table and slid it toward him. He glanced at it at first but then leaned forward to get a better look when he realized what he was looking at.

"It was a library, of sorts, filled with all sorts of fascinating books. But I won't go into that. What's interesting, what had us stumped for so long, was that every victim in this room was seemingly killed by the same shot. Crazy, right?"

"I didn't kill them."

Evie leaned forward, crossing her arms on the table. "Didn't kill who? Anyone? Just these? Because, you know, it's odd. We ran every fingerprint in that building before it blew up, along with a lot of good agents and officers. And, you know, the only print that didn't belong to someone we'd bagged up was yours."

Wesley didn't even flinch at her words.

Evie leaned back in the chair, pulling up the sleeves on her coat. Wesley didn't miss the bruises and bandages on her arms "I've dealt with a lot of crazy killers in my time. All the weird ones cross my desk," she paused, staring into his bright eyes. "The Mill was the only one I could never solve, and it ate at me for years."

She pulled another picture from the folder and slid it to him. "And then poor Mrs. Carlisle gets killed inside her panic room," she pushed another one, "and Mr. Hicks who was killed in an elevator. And let's not forget Mrs. Ventura who gets killed in front of her son in a public pool."

Wesley's eyes flicked down again. "I didn't kill them," he repeated.

"So you keep saying and yet I don't believe you."

"Believe what you want, but I didn't kill them."

"I know what you can do Wesley."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

She snorted. "Of course you don't."

A knock on the window stopped her from saying anything else. Evie stood, carefully collected all the photos on the table and straightened, the folder tucked against her side. "I'll be back in a minute. You need anything? Water?"

Wesley didn't respond.

"Great."

With only one quick glance back at him, she left the room, the door clicking shut behind her. Wesley kept his face blank. There was no need for whoever was behind the mirror to see him start to panic.

Not that he was.

He'd been in worse situations.

He slouched down in the seat, testing how far the chains on his feet would go. Not far, just as he'd assumed. He'd have to have some help getting out of those. Wesley clenched his fists, subtly pulling at the chains hooked into the table. More durable then the ones she'd used before.

At least she'd been smart about that.

He could break the cuffs on his hands no problem. Wesley figured that would lead to someone from behind the mirror bursting through the door, gun drawn. That would give him what he needed to break the chains on his feet.

He turned his gaze from the mirror to the door. The main problem would be the dozens of agents on the other side of that door. He had no desire to kill any of them, but he knew things would turn for the worse.

Wesley sighed and sat up straight, his gaze going back to the mirror.

Things were definitely complicated.

"What do you think he's thinking about?" Matt asked.

"Probably about how screwed he is," Klein answered.

"Is this why I was pulled out of the room?" Evie asked. She crossed her arms over her chest as she leaned against the window, her eyes never leaving Wesley. "To contemplate what he's thinking about?"

"Pruitt wanted you out," Matt answered without turning to her. "But, seriously. He's been accused of dozens of murders and he's just sitting there. If he was innocent you'd think he'd be terrified and pleading to be released."

Evie snorted. "He's not innocent Matt. I've seen first hand what he's capable of. We have his fingerprints on one of the murder weapons and he was seen near the Mill after the attack. That's too many coincidences. Why did Pruitt want me out?"

"He didn't say. Maybe he just really likes looking at himself in the mirror."

Evie pinched the bridge of her nose. "Seriously? He's probably figuring a way out."

"That would be insane," Klein scoffed. "No one's that stupid."

"You'd be surprised," Matt responded.

The door opened suddenly, drawing the three agents' attention.

"Good, you're all here."

"Sir, why-"

Pruitt shook his head and quirked a finger at them.

"Simonson and Thomas, come with me. Klein," he stopped and shook his head. "Would you do some work please?"

Matt snorted at Klein's upraised brow and followed Evie out.

"I can get him to talk." She stated.

"You're lucky I even allowed you in there, Thomas," Pruitt responded, signing a form someone pushed in front of him. "Especially after how you've acted during this entire investigation. In fact," he turned to her, "I'm pretty sure you're still supposed to be on leave."

"I'm fine."

"Tell me why I don't send your ass home right now and let Simonson take over this case."

Evie bristled. "I've been the lead on this case for a year-"

"That's not good enough."

"They've been my leads that have brought-"

Pruitt shook his head. "Still not good enough."

"I'm the best damn-"

"Why was Gibson's blood found at your apartment?"

Evie drew up straight, her words dying on her tongue.

"The blood work came back on those bandages at your apartment. It matched with blood work from the Mill, so I'm going to assume it's going to match any blood we take from him too."

"Sir?" an agent called.

"In a minute," Pruitt responded. "It better be a good goddamn answer, Thomas."

Evie's hands clenched into fists. "I doubt anything I say will be good enough, sir."

Matt stepped up, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Evie."

Pruitt shook his head. "You know what? I think you should just-"

"Sir?" the agent called out again.

"What Kowalski?!"

Kowalski just looked at him, unmoved by Pruitt's outburst. "Gibson's lawyer is here."

Three sets of eyes turned to look at Kowalski. His eyebrows rose, and he jerked a thumb over his shoulder. Evie was the first to see him. Her muscles tensed, her right hand instinctively going to her weapon.

His eyes flicked to her hand and a small smile crossed his lips. He gave a slight shake of his head. He leaned on a cane as he walked, belying the swift and sure movements she'd witnessed before.

"Lucien Caius," his normal accent was nowhere to be heard. "I would like to speak to my client. Alone, please."

Evie held his gaze. She shouldn't let him anywhere near Gibson; shouldn't even let him be in the same building as Gibson.

"Of course, Mr. Caius," Pruitt answered. "Agent Thomas will take you to him."

"I'm not-"

She stopped at the look Pruitt gave her. She wanted to tell him. She should tell him. She should tell him who this man really was.

But she couldn't. She had no proof. Instead, she just nodded.

"Right. This way, Mr. Caius."

He smiled warmly at her in thanks, causing a chill to run down her spine.

"It was wise not to pull your weapon, Ms. Thomas," Lucien said quietly, his accent reappearing as he walked just behind her. "How would you have explained that?"

"I'm sure I would have figured something out."

"And do you think they would have believed you?"

Evie let out a huff. "What are you even doing here?"

"Exactly what I said: I'm here to see Wesley."

"And your . . . friends?"

"Oh, they're nowhere near here," a soft chuckle escaped him. "You don't have to worry."

"Worry about what? You attempting to break Gibson out?"

Lucien laughed again. "I'm not here to break him out, Ms. Thomas," his face scrunched in thought. "May I call you Evangeline?"

Evie halted and turned to him. "No."

His eyebrows rose. "Too formal?"

"No. I just don't like you."

He smiled. "That hurts."

"I'm sure," she gestured to the door they were standing next to. "I'll be watching you."

"While affording my client and I privacy."

Evie's eyes narrowed. "Are you actually a lawyer?"

"I can assure you, Agent Thomas, that I am many things. Now, if you please."

Evie opened the door for him and stepped aside. Wesley looked up when the door opened, and she didn't miss the flicker of surprise that crossed his face when he saw Lucien.

"Hello Wesley," Lucien said jovially, his accent once again gone. "I hear you've gotten yourself in a bit of a bind."

Wesley blinked at Lucien and then turned to Evie. "I'll be watching," she repeated and closed the door.

"What are you-"

Lucien held up a finger, watching the camera in the right corner of the room. "There's a hefty case against you Wesley. The evidence is surprisingly tight."

"I didn't kill them."

"That's going to be tough to prove."

"I guess you're just going to have to-"

"I warned you about this, Mr. Gibson," Lucien interrupted as the light flicked off. "And now we find ourselves with a bit of a problem."

"What would you have had me do?"

"You should have come with us when we approached you."

"I already told you I'm not willing to give up-"

"Give up what, Mr. Gibson?" he scoffed. "Being normal? You are far from normal. You are so much more than normal."

"Please don't remind me."

Lucien settled back in his seat, crossing one long leg over the other. "So then here's our pickle: you're no good to us in here."

"Then get me out."

"It's not that easy Mr. Gibson."

"I didn't kill them Lucien."

"The new deaths, no. However they do have your fingerprints from the Mill. And footage of someone who looks suspiciously like you at the first crime scene."

"I didn't kill that woman and you know it."

"Oh, I'm fully aware."

"What about the other guy? The Fraternity who chased me through the streets and attacked the agent in the bathroom?"

Lucien shook his head. "Nothing yet. Ravenna is still looking. In the meantime, we need to take care of this situation."

A loud thump drew their attention to the two-way mirror behind Lucien. They looked at each other for a split second before Lucien stood, gripping his cane in one hand.

Suddenly, Lucien stumbled backward, a splotch of red blooming on his chest as cracks spider webbed along the mirror.

Two things happened next: the lights went out, settling the room into near darkness and a bulky form hurtled through the mirror, scattering razor-sharp shards of glass around the room.

"You okay, partner? You seem a little antsy."

"Hmm?" Evie turned from the interrogation room door and looked at Matt. "Yeah, I'm fine. I just want to get back in there."

"He's not going anywhere, Evie."

"No, I know. I just . . . I just don't trust him in there without one of us."

"I'm sure everything will be fine."

Evie leaned forward, resting her arms on her desk. "If you had seen what he could do, Matt, you wouldn't be so sure."

Matt shrugged. "We caught him. And he's in a building full of FBI. What's he really going to do?"

"You guys look really tense. Fun day at the office?"

Both looked up at the new voice. A smile broke across Matt's face as he stood. "Hey there," he responded, giving the woman a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Hey Caroline," Evie said. "Been awhile."

"It really has. Matt told me – oh my gosh! He said you'd been injured but I didn't realize it was this bad!" Caroline turned her wide eyes to Matt as she swatted his shoulder.

He feigned injury, rubbing his shoulder. "She's fine, isn't she?"

Caroline glared at him and shook her head, her red pony tail swaying. "Clearly not."

Evie smiled at their banter. She rested her chin on her fist and just watched them. They'd been together since just after she and Matt had become partners. With his carefree attitude and loyal to a fault personality, she could see why Caroline would be attracted to him.

It also didn't hurt that he was good looking in that classic boy next door sort of way.

They had an easy, open relationship. From what she remembered, they'd hit it off immediately. Both were outgoing people; able to make friends with someone the minute they met them.

Something Evie had never been.

She was close with Matt. She trusted him with her life and she would do anything to protect his. She just couldn't allow herself to get that close to him. Not like she had done with Trent.

Evie's breath caught in her throat. A sharp pain shot through her back and she shifted in her seat, trying to ease the pressure. It still hurt to think of Trent. He'd been her first partner and the one she'd learned everything from.

And then he'd been gone.

Just like that.

A single bullet ended the life of the first man she'd allowed herself to open up to since her father. And there had been nothing she could have done.

Suddenly the room was dark. Matt and Evie looked at each other quizzically. The emergency lights kicked on half a second later as she pushed to her feet. The sound of glass shattering drew her attention to her right, towards the closed interrogation room door. Her hand immediately went to the gun on her hip. She noticed Matt do the same as he moved Caroline behind him.

"What's going on?" Caroline asked, her hand moving to grip Matt's.

Before either of them could answer, an explosion rocked the building, followed by a much smaller one on the opposite side of the room. Evie was pushed to the side, her hip slamming into the corner of her deck, but caught herself before she fell.

Smoke burned her eyes and she looked around through the tears in her eyes. She coughed and took off her jacket to cover her mouth and nose. Evie turned to find Matt crouched on the floor by his desk, hovering over Caroline. Caroline looked dazed but unharmed.

People were shouting around her, ushering people to safety or calling for help. She took stock of her surroundings. The back and front corners of the office were on fire, the flames steadily making their way along the walls and ceiling despite agents grabbing fire extinguishers to try and put them out. It was too much, too fast.

She couldn't tell how many injured or worse.

Evie moved next to Matt, resting her hand on his shoulder. "Get her out of here," she shouted over the blaring alarm

Matt looked up and nodded, easing Caroline to her feet.

"Evie," he stopped and looked pointedly over to the closed interrogation room door.

Without a word, she moved away from him, pulling her gun from the holster.

The cane was torn from Lucien's hands and turned against him. He felt the crack as the metal tip hit his cheek bone with the full force of the swing. He was pushed to the side; his foot catching on the table leg and fell into the shards of glass. He gasped, one hand going to the bullet wound in his chest

Wesley launched himself at their attacker. He recognized him as the man from the club bathroom, albeit a bit more beat up. He slammed his shoulder into the man's chest, pushing him into the wall. He'd yanked the chains to his cuffs from the table after their assailant had crashed through the window and used them now to wrap around the man's throat. The shackles had been a bit more tricky, but he was still always amazed at what he could do when the adrenaline started rushing through his veins.

The man swung his legs up, planting his feet on the wall and shoving back. Wesley stumbled but kept the hold on the man's throat. He could feel the adrenaline vibrating in his veins as he held on, the man kicking back and hitting Wesley's sides with his elbows.

Lucien moved in front of them, slightly hunched over, and delivered a swift punch to the man's solar plexus. The man grunted and doubled over. Wesley loosened his hold slightly, just enough to twist on his feet, placing himself back to back with the Fraternity and bent forward, launching the man over his shoulders.

He'd hoped to hear the satisfying snap of the man's neck breaking, but no such luck. He looked at Lucien, meeting his eyes. The older man nodded, and they moved to attack him again.

Before they could get three steps, an explosion shook the room. Lucien stumbled, hitting the edge of the table as he fell. Wesley fell to his knees but braced himself on his hands, glass cutting into his palms.

A smaller explosion went off moments later. Wesley covered his head as dust and debris fell. He didn't hear the man running up to him with the ringing in his ears. The man's hand wrapped around his throat, lifting him to his feet and through the air to slam into the opposite wall.

He flicked the wrist of his free hand, a knife slipping from his ripped sleeve. He lifted his arm, arcing up, aiming directly for Wesley's right eye.

"I've been waiting for this, you son of a bitch."

Both men turned their attention to the new voice.

Evie stood behind them, standing over a still sprawled out Lucien, her gun raised and pointed at the man's head. His lip curled. He tightened his grip on Wesley's throat and flipped the knife in his hand.

Evie squeezed the trigger just as he twisted to the side, his arm swinging back and down. Her eyes caught Wesley's over the stretch of her arm, blood spattered across his face as the man crumpled. The shadow of a bruise was forming on his jaw. She could see the beginnings of more bruising building on his neck. His eyes flicked down after a moment and then back up to hers, an unnerving calm settling over his gore covered face. Wesley took a step toward her, his hand lifting as if to reach for her.

Evie moved slightly to point the gun at him. Wesley simply shifted, his shoulder grazing the barrel of the gun. His fingers grazed the side of her rib cage, right at the edge of her left breast, and then he held them up. She could just make out a stain on the tips.

Confused, Evie looked down to find a dark stain blossoming on her shirt around the hilt of a knife buried in the side of her chest. Her arm fell to her side, her eyes moving up to his again, confusing settling across her features, the gun clattering to the floor from limp fingers.

All she remembered before darkness consumed her was Wesley moving closer to her, his arm wrapping around her waist as her legs gave out.

The last thing she saw was shining blue eyes, a hint of concern hidden in their depths.

AN: It's been forever, I know. I'm sorry. Time always sneaks up on me. *sigh* I hope you enjoy!