Testing the panic response; a job interview.

[gamma_effect]

When Bruce had seen the ad in the paper, after weeks of carefully searching both online and in person, his first thought was that he could eat real food again next week. Definitely something to look forward to. But even better than that was the prospect of employment he didn't have to worry about, where suspicions were unlikely. He would have to

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[for_them]

Will glanced briefly at the dirty mirror in the bathroom as he washed his hands with cold water. The thick, raised scar that trailed from his upper cheek to his lower jaw had pinked with age by now. It had been a slow and agonizing four months since the day that Francis Dolarhyde had taken his revenge. Although Will hardly noticed his scar anymore, the riptide of effects that the attack had taken on his life would resound with him forever.

Following his month in the institution, it'd taken Will about a month and a half to get his life resettled again. Just now, in the fourth month, his small diesel mechanic business had started doing reasonably well. Will couldn't sleep without the aid of a blackout, memories gnawed on his conscious, and Jack still called every now and then - but his boatyard was doing well enough that it was getting to be too much work for him to accomplish alone.

He had, of course, been wary of taking on a stranger into his home after all that had happened. But he had also grown up with his father renting out their home frequently. It had been something of an unexpected relief when Bruce had insisted on communicating through mail, and then agreeing to a face-to-face visit beforehand. Will was unquestionably confident that this process of selection would be enough to discern if Bruce was dangerous. He would have much rather handled the entire business himself to avoid having to take this risk, but he needed help.

Will shook water droplets from his hands and quickly wiped them off with a paper towel before moving back into the main part of the diner. He made his way to the table he'd designated for the meeting. It didn't surprise him to find Bruce there; from their correspondence, Bruce had seemed like a very no-nonsense sort of man and someone that probably made punctuality a matter of personal importance.

Will approached from behind Bruce and to the direct left of the table.

"Bruce Wells?" he clarified in a calm, but impassive voice as he settled into the chair opposite Bruce.

Will was surprised for, perhaps, a stretch of twenty seconds or so by the fact that Bruce had the same - albeit unmarred - face as his own. Not only had he assisted Aaron Stampler, but he'd also taken trips into the Nexus until just recently - so strange and life altering oddities didn't shake him as easily anymore. So much so were the Nexus's and Aaron's influences upon him, that he didn't even think to explain the 'same face' phenomenon to Bruce outright.

"Will Graham," he introduced himself, extending a hand across the table to Bruce.