"I'm spending the day with Rachel. She's ordering coffee or something so I thought I might just quickly call to see how you were holding up."

"Thanks, b-but I-I'm getting better." He took a shaky breath and asked Jordan how he was.

"I'm feeling better too. Rachel's been a great help, considering how she's been with me a lot of the time since it happened." He sighed over the line and admitted, "I'm thinking about finding some sort of shrink or therapist though."

"Why?"

"I'm having pretty bad nightmares," he revealed. "That and my hands won't stop shaking."

He frowned. "Jordan, its only b-been s-six days. It's going t-to t-take time."

"I know..." He changed the subject, "Did you ever call Amy?" Nick muttered that he hadn't and Jordan groaned and asked why he hesitated.

"I-I've been"

As soon as Jordan realized that Nick had no reason he cut him off. "Nick, call her."

"Why?"

"She needs to talk to you." Jordan thanked Rachel over the call and Nick a.s.sumed he sipped his beverage and set it on a table before he continued, "Amy's gotta be freaked out and because of that you need to call her."

"B-But why me?"

"Because she likes you and if she could talk to you she'd probably start to feel better."

Nick felt his heart leap in his chest. He hadn't realized it.

Jordan apologized and told Nick he needed to go. "Call her though, okay?"

Nick closed his phone and remained silent. He shut his eyes tightly and focused on what Jordan said. Nick wasn't accustomed to anyone having feelings for him and it alienated him. He'd never been on a date in his life or even fared well in general friendships outside of Jessica, though he believed they would be the last people on earth to ever fall in love with one another. The idea that anyone might even one day love him made him sick. Nick kept his eyes closed and took a few breaths before he opened them and logged off the computer.

He left the library and dialed Amy as soon as he was outside. It rang three times before she answered, "h.e.l.lo?"

He took one apprehensive breath and started, "h.e.l.lo, A-Amy? It's Nick."

"Oh, hey, how are you?"

"Fine." He wavered where he stood and as he felt uneasy he decided he should take a seat on the walkway with his back to the building. Although he hoped to quell the restlessness he felt, he didn't find much comfort. His stomach churned and his ears burned. He simply continued, "Jordan g-gave me your n-number. He th-thought I should c-call you to m-m-make sure you're okay."

She giggled over the line and Nick's heart stopped. Amy thanked him, "I was going to call you, but I wasn't sure if you were busy or not."

He thought to say that he wasn't ever busy but refrained. She asked how he was holding up, he told her, "I-I'm managing. H-How about you?"

"I still can't sleep," she admitted. "I have nightmares when I do. It's always a dream about that guy coming after me."

Nick wanted to say it wouldn't happen, but truthfully he felt the same way, that the killer might come after him too. He lied and told her that would never happen, "Wh-Why would anyone want t-t-to kill you?"

She let out a breath and told him she knew it was silly. "I don't think anyone would, I just...I'm just scared. I mean, who would want to kill Crystal of all people?"

"I-I'm not sure."

"That's why I'm scared."

Nick wasn't sure what to say. He thought to tell her everything would be fine, that no one would ever come to hurt her, but he felt the words would sound empty.

Amy asked, "Are..." she hesitated, "Are you nervous?"

"About what?"

"About that party you're going to," she clarified.

The party escaped his mind days ago. He chuckled, "N-Now, that y-you mentioned it, yes."

"I'm sure it won't be too terrible."

He agreed. A thought came to him suddenly, though at the start he disregarded it, he gave the idea another moment of thought and asked, "Did...Did you want to go w-with me?"

"To the party?"

"Yes."

She paused, "As a date?"

He felt flush at the words, at the mere suggestion of such a thing. The pit in his gut burned and his mind raced to her rejecting him, mocking him, and days of self-loathing and burning hatred directed inward. Nick trembled and took another breath before he suggested that they could go as friends if she wanted. "It's okay i-if you d-don't want to..."

"No," she stopped him, "I do. I'd love to go with you."

He smiled and a wave of relief washed over him. "Great. Um..." he rubbed his eyes, "Did you want to go out and g-get something t-to eat beforehand?"

"Like what?"

He shrugged (but realized the action was wasted), "I-I don't know. Wh-What do you like?"

"Anything really."

"j.a.panese?"

"Sure. When's the party?"

They made plans and Nick felt his nagging fear slowly release and he believed it was the first good thing to happen in the past few months. He thought his brother would be proud of him too, proud that he actually planned on doing something beyond his usual threshold. Amy's lighthearted tone made him smile. He worried about her at the start of their conversation, but she sounded better, happier even. Nick could tell she still hadn't recovered from the incident; he and Jordan seemed to be getting better, but after the past few days she seemed just as frightened as when it happened.

Nick hadn't stopped to consider that in the past week his brother was killed and that he'd witnessed a murder a day later; he wasn't sure why he wasn't traumatized or suffering from a complete mental breakdown. He believed he should have been, he thought normal people would be, but he wasn't. Nick would still cry if he thought about the loss of his brother for too long, but he felt he was beginning to get better, beginning to move on. He didn't know whether Crystal's murder shocked him from his sorrow or if such a thing was possible, but he believed he was getting better. He did continue to harbor hatred for whoever killed Victor though.

Even as he sat outside the library discussing their date he felt tears reach his eyes and felt as if everything around him may have begun to restore itself. He wiped the tears away silently and happily engaged himself in the conversation with Amy, who sounded just as content as he felt.

4:25 PM.

Baltimore, Maryland Mario Evanston sat with his back to the wall in the small interrogation room he'd made a home out of, with a wide grin on his face. He had asked to speak to Detective Sage again and waited his arrival. Evanston's room was small, with only a one-way window that reflected his image. A cot, small table, and his chair were all that furnished his domain. Atop the table was a bottle of water.

Minutes after the request for Sage, he entered through the metal door. Sage looked far better than he had two days earlier; his eyes were sharper and his face was clean. He asked what Evanston wanted and Evanston's grin widened. "This," he said as he scrambled to the water bottle. Once in his hands, he unscrewed the cap and closed his eyes. "Just sit back and watch this," he told the detective as the water in the bottle began to churn. The churning quickly slowed and soon the water was nothing more than a frozen ma.s.s. Evanston opened his eyes and handed the result to Sage for him to investigate.

Sage stared at the anomaly he witnessed and asked, "How did you realize you could do this?"

Startled by the question Evanston cautiously replied, "I really don't know, it just happened. Then I spent a few minutes toying with the water and found that I could control it." He chuckled, "You...You were right! This...This is just amazing! Oh and... and I can do more than just that, here," he held his hands out for the bottle, which Sage returned to him. The man turned the ice back into water and then produced steam, which emptied the bottle. "This is the coolest part...hope you don't mind getting wet..."

Sage was going to for a clarification, but was briefly rained on before he could speak.

Sage looked about the room, perplexed. He asked, "You did that too?"

"Yeah, one second," the man concentrated and lifted the water from the ground in the form of vapor and recollected the water into the bottle.

"So you don't have to touch the object?"

"No...I-I want to try it on something other than water, but I didn't want to ruin your table..." the man said.

"Thanks...I'll get you some paperclips."

Detective Sage left Evanston alone and headed to their supply closet for a box of the paperclips but was intercepted by his partner. "Did you find anything out?"

Sage nodded and told him to get Johnson. "You'll both want to see this."

Felton left to get the chief while Ryan returned to Mario. He handed him the box and asked, "How do you know you'll be able to manipulate these too?"

The curly haired man shrugged and asked why he shouldn't be able to. "I'm just changing its state of matter, so my next thought was something other than water...so something metal popped into my head."

Chief Johnson and Detective Felton joined them and asked what they discovered. Evanston took one of the small metal clips from the box and set it on the table. "Just watch."

He closed his eyes and focused on the small metal object. However, the entire table began to vibrate, so Sage quickly stopped him. "Just hold it in your hand before you melt the entire table, okay?"

The man agreed and held the small metal item in his hand. Within seconds the metal turned to liquid. Johnson's eyes widened, "Ryan, how the h.e.l.l do you explain that?"

Ryan only shook his head, "I have no idea. But this means my theory was right..."

"Can you turn it back into a paper clip?" Felton asked.

"Maybe with enough practice, but I can do this." He concentrated and formed a solid cube. "If you give me enough I could probably make something really cool, like a sword or a shield or something."

"I'm not sure I would want you making a sword in my station," Johnson told him. He turned to Detective Sage and asked what it meant for them.

"It means he's the eleventh target of Cladis," Sage stated.

"Whoa...who's Cladis?" Evanston asked.

"He's the guy who's been killing people in your situation," Felton told the man.

"So that guy's gonna try to kill me?" he asked Sage.

"Probably. But now that we believe you're the eleventh, you'll be under twenty-four hour surveillance, for your protection. And if he doesn't show and someone else is murdered, you'll be free to go and we'll pick up the investigation from there. If, however, he does try to break in and kill you, we'll stop him," Sage told Evanston.

Evanston nodded cautiously and muttered that might be more secure in another state if they were that worried. Sage apologized and told him they would try to be as accommodating as they could be. They left him with the rest of the paperclips and started toward Sage's office.

Johnson let out a heavy breath as soon as the door closed and they were in the hall. He asked, "So what sort of ability would you cla.s.sify that as Sage?"

He scratched his head, "Most likely state of matter manipulation... y'know, ice to water to vapor."

"What's our next step then?" Felton asked.

"Excuse me," a thin Asian man interrupted them, "But before the three of you take off in separate directions, I'd like to ask you all something."

The three found an Asian man dressed in a white collared shirt with thin black pinstripes on it. He wore a black tie and a dark brown undone overcoat, with well ironed black slacks, shined black shoes, and gloves on his hands. His thick black hair was well groomed and the man stood a few inches shorter than Detective Sage.

He flashed a badge and introduced himself, "Agent Ryuzaki Miyaza of the Bureau. I'm here to question a man you have detained here, named Mario Evanston, for his connection with the case you've been working on, what you've cla.s.sified as the 'Cladis investigation,' if I'm not mistaken."

Johnson frowned, "We haven't even added that to the report yet," he crossed his arms, "How come you're here so suddenly?"

Miyaza smiled. His eyes flashed and he told the man, "I was here in Baltimore on personal business when I was asked to look into this case by my section chief." He looked at Felton, "That's why I'm here without any partner, to answer your next question."

"I wasn't going to ask that," Felton told the agent.

Miyaza's eyes gleamed and his smile flickered, "I'll have to take your word on that..." He looked at the door, "Time's an issue my friends, so if you've no more questions, I would like to answer mine."

The Asian man didn't hesitate to push past Ryan and into the holding cell. To Ryan's relief, Mario had stopped manipulating the paperclips when the agent entered the room. Agent Miyaza greeted Evanston frankly and retrieved a black pen and a pad of paper from within his coat.

Felton stood at the door, with Sage on the right side of Agent Miyaza, and Chief Johnson near the metal table where Mario Evanston sat. Agent Miyaza asked Detective Felton to close the door and once his request was met, he asked his first question, "You drive a taxi, is that correct?"

Evanston looked at him blankly. He slowly answered, "Yeah...Why the h.e.l.l's a fed asking me if I drive a taxi? Isn't that obvious?"

"Thank you," Miyaza said as his eyes flashed and he scribbled notes down on his pad. He continued to fire questions, "Did you ever meet Angela Walsh before the accident?"

"No, and you can't really call it meeting her, as she died in my arms."

He nodded, "Of course not...And when she swerved off the road, how did you react?"

Evanston cautiously answered, "I hit the brakes."

"She did swerve, right?" Miyaza nearly cut Evanston off as he asked.

He hesitated, "Yes..."

Miyaza frowned, "Are you certain? You're sure another car didn't push her into your lane?"

"No."

The agent scribbled more into his notepad. "Did she hit the brakes?"

He shrugged, "I-I don't know...maybe?"