Alone

Aaron kept eating, for fear if he stopped to argue, Sam would just take his food away again. "Yeah well..." He swallowed and took another bite, not even realizing how fast he was eating. "I didn't make a mistake. I came here to get a man out and he's the traitor, not me." He chewed for a moment and stabbed another piece of meat. "If I could get my hands on Victoria for just one second..." 

Still eating, he shook his head. "Besides all that though, you seem to think I'd appreciate this...reform school. As if my life was so bad before." He shot her a look. "It wasn't. I was perfectly happy until Garret screwed it all up for me. I don't need to 'learn' and 'grow' like a five year old. I did all my growing and learning long before the Agency came along. And they gave me a heck of a lot more freedom than I'm getting here." 

His next stab into the last piece of meat was rather hard, proving his aggravation. "Death comes to everyone eventually," he reasoned gruffly. "At least in death I wouldn't be locked in this stupid cell and-" Having shifted slightly, the next shot of pain caused him to lurch in his chair and he cut his sentence short. "And at least I wouldn't have to worry about walking again," he finished angrily. Or perhaps there was more fear and emotional pain than anger. 


Gunner sat in the corner of his bed, listening to the silence. His head was cocked so he could see out the window. Some lights of the facility made it a little hard but he could make out a few stars at least. The day had been...slow. And hard. Nothing had been forced on him yet, though, so that was in his favor. He knew tomorrow might be a different story though. In this current moment, he didn't really care. Ten minutes from now? Who knew? A half hour ago, he was okay with being here. Right now, he was upset he didn't have access to that bridge he'd wanted. Up and down, back and forth...he couldn't straighten out his thoughts or emotions. The nurse said they'd help him balance out, but...he had his doubts. Tonight he was just...alone. And somehow, it felt more alone than when he'd been at Northside. 


Dylan adjusted his cowboy hat before giving Ashlee sort of a crooked half-grin. "Yeah, he did. But that's okay." He let Sharpshooter head forward, and made sure Ashlee came up beside him after they'd gone through the gate to the back trail. "I'm used to it by now," he admitted. "The talks, that is. I figure I prolly deserve it anyway with my history, so it doesn't bother me." 

He steered around a hole so Sharpshooter wouldn't trip. "At least Eric cares. Think he's gonna marry your mom?"