secrets you keep » griffith & wes
The room is blank and stark, nothing that might separate it from any police station and barely above a prison cell. Above them are bright fluorescent lights, casting an ominous glow and black shadows across the ground. A two way mirror sits at his back, where other agents and maybe Nixon will stand and watch, a metal table in front of him and a chair to match on the other side. It’s there that they dump the man, cuffs still around his wrist and black bag over his head.
Processing is an exhausting endeavor. But he knew what he was signing up for when he asked for this, and for every body taken away in a black bag, what’s more vital to him are the ones still breathing. The ones who can give him his answers, if he has to yank them forcibly from his jaws with a pair of pliers.
The black bag comes off first. And if he can only imagine how the man’s feeling, there isn’t a trace of pity in him. Pumped full of drugs to keep him docile, hopefully loosen his tongue, and he’s sure a few bruises just to get the point across. Maybe the man deserves every one of them, maybe he’s just caught in the crossfire, but Griff learned a long time ago that no one was innocent.
A manila folder slaps down on the table between them as he takes his seat across from him. “Wesley Cabot. We need to talk.”