Cameron and I got into his car, securing the seatbelts and starting the engine. Cameron turned to me with his blue green eyes, "You want to go to the library next, don't you?" His expression indicated that he was unhappy, worried or nervous. Given that we were going to the killer's next supposed target building, the Los Angeles Town Library.

The last Stitch I went into was that of the Dynamic Duo of Criminalistic poisoning. John Pourtic and his little brother Maurice's father was laid off and screwed over by the economy, he had a heart attack from all the stress. The boys were so distraught and outraged at their father's untimely demise that they planned a killing spree. So far they had hit two very public areas with a colorless, tasteless contagious gas. There was treatment for it, and there had only been 2 casualties. But there is a waiting period while they clear the gas when the gas embeds itself in a person's lungs, the time period varies based on the area of the compromised vicinity.

John died running away from the police; a gunshot to the back had put even more strain on his heart. It was odd to be in the criminal's brain instead of the victim's. I felt the mourning, the pain, sadness, distress, the anger. The anger and sadness were the worst ones. The residual emotion was only half as strong as what John had felt, but it was still like 'going through the ringer' as Cameron had suggested when I was trying to explain the deeply felt emotion.

The drive was short, and Cameron's car – music sing-along only made the time pass faster. I texted Camille to where we were just as the car pulled into the parking lot. There was no response and I looked at the time stamp, 6:30, both Camille and Linus would be completely preoccupied with one another. "Send one to Fisher, I'll text Maggie", Cameron suggested after spying at my phone from behind my shoulder. With I nod I sent the same message to Fisher, and paced quickly to the door. Opening it just slightly so that I could slip inside, if Maurice had already set free the gas, then there was no point to set it free out into the open.

"Were looking for Maurice, this is just before they set out the gas the other two times." I said, eyes raking expertly through the large crowd.

"But, his brothers gone, he could be pulling out all the stops for both of their deaths." Cameron was analyzing over the other half of the building. "No, he wants a high body count; he's waiting for rush hour. It's in 15 minutes."

"We need to get everyone out."

"And risk letting him get away? Besides, the building's got gas detectors anyways." As if on cue, the alarms went off, signaling that we needed to get out. We exchanged a brief glance before Cameron grabbed my forearm and placed an urgent hand on the small of my back, rushing as fast as we could to the nearest exit.

There was a mob screaming around the doors, pressing forwards into one another. The glass was intact, and finally one of the doors was pried open, despite the increasing pressure against them. It was as if the flood gates had opened, people were pouring out, but not fast enough – Cameron and I were being pushed and pounded on by others. The sirens were blaring like high pitched air horns, and the alert beams were passing over our faces like red light houses, blinding us temporarily with every circle.

There was a young mother with her two children, and infant and a toddler. She was about my age, and her kin were in tears, as was she, screams of help erupting from her as she holds her babies ears. There was a slight rush of something in my chest. I could recognize it as adrenalin and, comfort, I think? Worry? Anxiety? Whatever it was, It made my chest hurt and my heart beat erratically.

And then there was a click, the doors forced themselves shut and locked. People cried out even louder, pounding on what likely seemed to be plexy glass. From the glimpses outside the scratched clarity I could see police cars, poison control, and NSA vans parked nearby. There was more yelling, commands, and deep voices, bellowing to get back and away from the windows. Cameron's hands moved around and settled themselves on my shoulders, easing us back and away from the mob. We shared a frantic – Well, Cameron was frantic; I was mildly concerned – glance and turned back to the rowdy, scared crowd before us.

"Please, calm down, we will explain what has happened shortly. But first you need to calm yourself." Maggie's voice came on over the intercom. Slowly the group stopped screaming, a few people pawed at the windows. One man, maybe 26? 27? Had his hand aligned with a woman on the other side, if and when I leaned over I could see her swollen pregnant belly, she held tears in her eyes and a shaking hand over her abdomen.

The mother and her children were still in tears, and she was trying to pull her son from the window. Other people held each other, panic on their faces, held their own arms. I can't help but think that it's a little early to be crying and such; they don't even know what's happened yet. Quietly I voiced my concerns to Cameron, who responded with shock on his features. "Okay, with normal people, when you hear loud blaring sirens and scary flashing lights, it tends to be pretty jarring. Cut them some slack."

"You don't seem 'jarred'", I accused with crossed arms, deadpan in place.

Cameron again widened his eyes at me, "I deal with out of the ordinary practically every day in the program. I'm used to it; I've become accustomed, sad enough."

There was a nudge of a microphone, Maggie's technical tone returned with echoing volume over the sirens. "Thank You. A certain gas has been introduced to the air waves and has tripped the poison sensors." People erupted again, "Poison? What kind of poison? Is it lethal? What about my child? When can we leave?" it was an insistent badgering of questions. "As of this point in time we are aware of what the gas is, and have apprehended the culprit. The poison can be lethal, and there is an extensive waiting period to tell if you have been infected. Please remain calm; we are doing all that we can to help you, and its going to be a long night." It was only 6 o'clock, but I understood what she meant. No one would be leaving for a few days to ensure that the poison wouldn't spread. "Please make yourselves comfortable." Was the last thing Maggie said before the intercom was shut off.

It was only a few moments before both Cameron and I's phones lit up with the NSA officer's face.

"What", I asked.

"Is Cameron with you?"

"Yes", he replies for himself, "and neither Kirsten nor I appreciate being locked in a public building."

"Your both inside?" She seethed, "You were supposed to call in when you found the target site, not enter and risk yourselves!"

"I did call, I texted Camille and you, and Fisher." I said blatantly, holding the microphone to my mouth. A female voice that had to have been that brunettes mumbled 'oh, yeah, well, would you look at that? There it is.'

"Did you really get him?" Cameron asked in a hushed tone, breath hot on the side of my wrist.

Maggie sighed, "Yes." With a tone that usually registered as dejection. I asked what was wrong, to which Fisher's tempered voice replied. "He's not giving up the antidote. This guys on a mission to have every one of those people in that building die because of his brother and father. And he might just succeed if we don't get a magic recipe for reverse gas poison soon."

"Listen, you two need to keep these people in control. Make sure they feel safe–" I cut her off with what would normally be a sneer, "You mean as safe as they can feel with a lethal gas polluting the air?"

Maggie sighed again, "Yes that's what I mean. We'll keep you posted."

I ended the call and looked at Cameron, who rubbed his eyes in frustration and ran a hand through his gravity defying hair. "Well it could be worse, we could already be dead and both of the Pourtic brothers could be alive and running rampant planning their next target."

"Yes because that's so much better than being trapped in a building with nearly 200 other strangers and waiting to be told if we're going to die or not." Residual emotion snapped at him.

"At least we have one another, we won't be alone." Cameron was grasping for straws by now, and he knew it, I knew it, if everyone else were involved in this conversation then they would know it as well.

I looked back at him besides me, "I suppose, come on, we should go check on people. I'm never one for doing exactly as told, but there's hardly anything else we can do."

"Couldn't have worded it better, Stretch."