AN: I know I should be finishing my other FF but I needed a story break. So... heres Victor's story. Enjoy.

I sat back in the steel chair and stared back at myself through the reflection of the two-way mirror in front of me. Nobody had come to speak to me since I had arrived and I had lost track of how long I had sat here. If it wasnt for the fact that I was positive somebody was staring back at me from the observation room, I would have been up examining the room. I had always been interested in forensics and crime scene investigating so the thought of this morning had a smile playing across my lips. I had been woken up at an ungodly hour by two guys who were channeling the "Men In Black" vibe and escorted me to the FBI offices in my pjs. My super quick tour of the FBI had ended with me being shut in this room with a bottle of water that sat in front of me unopened.

I was running through all the potential crimes I could have committed to land me in here when the door opened. The seat opposite me was pulled back and filled by a man. Even though he wasnt standing, I could tell he was extremely tall; his face was still and expressionless as he stared back at me and I couldnt help but feel as though his presence somehow... filled the room.

"I'm Special Agent Victor Benedict." He opened the folder in front of him and shuffled through the papers until he found the one he was looking for. He produced a photograph and slid it across the table; as soon as I saw who the photograph pictured, my eyes snapped back to his.

"Do you know who this is?" his voice was coaxing but I didn't reply - I wouldnt reply until I found out what this was about. He waited a few more seconds before he realised I wasnt going to answer.

"That's James Anderson. The James Anderson that's going on trial in a couple of months. The James Anderson that will be walking away without a punishment if we don't get witness to testify against him." So they had finally caught him and he was going to walk away like countless times before. Same old, same old.

"Anderson was very organised, he didn't leave any witnesses." Alive. He didn't leave any witnesses alive. "You however are an exception, Miss Heartly. I understand that a few years ago you were going to testify against him but he was never taken to court. We bought you here today to ask you to testify against him now. He will be in court in two months and we need you on the witness stand if we are going to have any chance of putting him away for a very long time." I broke my vow of silence to ask the one question that was eating away at me.

"What is he being tried for?" Agent Benedict seemed surprised at my sudden question but answered it anyway.

"He killed a fellow agent and injured others. We are also looking into older cases that he was thought to be involved in. Thats why you're here. When you were interviewed by the police in 2008 you said you saw him murder someone. How sure are you it was James Anderson?"

How sure was I? He murdered someone in front of me and then he put a bullet in my chest for good measure. I was pretty damn sure. But why now? Why speak to me now? That had happened years before and when it had nobody seemed particularly interested by it. Then it dawned on me. They were doing this because an agent had been killed. They were working this hard to convict Anderson because he had killed one of their own. This wasnt about the other people, this was about their people.

I didn't want to be here anymore. I wanted to go home, go to bed and forget i'd ever been dragged here but that wasnt an option. As much as I hated the fact that this case was only going to court because the FBI had to save face, I couldnt refuse to testify. I had to be a witness because that S.O.B had to suffer. When I looked up, I realised that Agent Benedict was waiting for me to answer.

"I'll do it. I'll be a witness." He gave me a small smile before grabbing the file and leaving the room. Only once he left did I realise that the photo of James Anderson was still on the table.

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