Anger

Hunter peeked out from under the blanket, his eyes crinkling at the corners, proving that he was hiding a silly smile. He hadn't meant anything bad either... but how could it not get a little awkward? They were in bed together, after all. 

His eyes widened with her threat to tickle him. "No, no, no, here..." He shoved the blankets her way. "Take 'em all." Somehow the sheets got tangled around his feet though, and no matter how hard he tugged, he couldn't get them straightened out. Turning this way and that, it was simply no use. Flopping onto his back, he was breathing heavily, and a laugh finally escaped. What had been a perfectly comfortable, warm, cozy moment had turned ridiculous because of him. 

Glancing up at Ryan, he grinned sheepishly. "I think... staying inside with me might be hazardous to your health. You may want to keep your distance." A loud clap of thunder made him visibly jump. "Or... maybe staying inside isn't such a bad idea after all..." 


Garret nodded slowly. "Okay. Let's go." There was no point avoiding the inevitable. 

Hal caught Sam's look and gave her a slight nod. He was right here if needed. He might not be feeling the best, but he would never let that get in the way of stepping in to help. 

Aaron was sitting up in bed as usual when Garret and Sam came into the bedroom. He immediately bristled, his face instantly showing tension. Setting aside his magazine, he folded his arms across his chest. "Wow. To what do I owe this... displeasure?" 

Garret refrained from rolling his eyes. "Aaron, look. I've been doing some digging." There was no point in beating around the bush. "I know you're convinced the Agency would welcome you back with open arms, but I ran across some data that proves otherwise." 

Aaron's eyes furrowed into a scowl. "Bull." 

"No." Garret shook his head. "They had you scheduled for a suicide mission." 

Aaron's jaw clenched. "What?" 

"Before you came here with Victoria. You were scheduled for a mission with three others. The only point was to start a mini war so Medridge could gain more territory. There was no extraction plan. No plan of survival. They might as well have planned to strap a bomb on your back." 

For several moments, Aaron was silent. The look on his face was almost unreadable. Anger? Fear? Disbelief? "I don't believe you." 

Garret didn't hesitate to grab the crutches and hold them out. "Then come see for yourself." He was pretty sure that was against the rules, but he'd followed enough of them this morning. This whole thing had to stop. 

Aaron glanced at the crutches then at Sam. Finally he swung his legs over the side of the bed to stand, and grabbed the crutches for support. "Fine. You show me what you think is proof and I'll show you you're wrong." 

Garret wasted no time in going out to the main floor. He was thrown a few questioning looks, but didn't care. Sam was with him - that should be enough to satisfy anyone. He went to Sapphire's cubicle again and nodded to her. "You wanna bring up that intel one more time?" He caught her eye, giving her a look that matched his serious tone. He knew she was smart enough to figure out why Aaron was here too.

Though allowing Aaron into the small space, Garret positioned himself between him and Sapphire, unwilling to take that risk. He'd take Aaron down in a heartbeat if he made one move towards Sapphire. 

Thankfully, Aaron didn't, and was simply quiet as he was shown the Agency intel. As he read the information, his face seemed to pale just slightly. Straightening, he exited the cubicle before stopping and looking at Sam then Garret, back and forth. "You think that proves anything? Do you know how important that mission would have been? They needed someone like me to go in there. Someone with my skills. Maybe I wouldn't have come back, but they would have told me. I would have known what I was walking into, and I would have done it willingly." His eyes began to blaze with anger. "This proves nothing," he hissed. Spinning around, he winced, proving he'd just twisted his knee, but he kept right on going back towards his room. 

Garret pursed his lips in thought. "He knows. He doesn't want to admit it. But he knows." 


"I just want to go back to work!" Scott threw up his arms as he paced his living room. 

Justin sat calmly on the couch armrest. "Why?"

"Because I'm bored out of my mind, I've got intel coming out my ears - literally in my mind's eye - and I just want to prove what I did wasn't wrong!"

"But it was." Justin shook his head. He let the quiet rule for a few minutes as he just studied Scott. "What do you want to accomplish now?"

"I just want to go back to work, get back behind my desk and... and just contribute again. Like I used to." 

"Funny... you wouldn't have had to go through the upgrade to do that."

Scott's hand came down hard on an end table, making a lamp shake. "Stop reminding me!" 

Justin didn't flinch. "Who are you really angry with?" 

"The Agency. Myself. You. I don't know! Just... why can't things go back to normal?!"

"Because. Just... because. The world doesn't stop spinning, Scott. You can't go back in time. No one can. Nothing loops back around to the way it was before. Every day is new, filled with new circumstances. You need to define who you are right here, right now, in this moment without looking into the past."

"But I liked who I was!"

Justin finally straightened and took Scott's shoulder to physically turn him towards a mirror on the wall. "That... is you. Right there. That. Not that." He pointed to an old photo that sat across the room. "This." He turned Scott back to the mirror. "And you need to come to terms with him. Until you do, no amount of work at the Elite is going to make you feel better." 

Scott glared at the mirror. He hated what he saw. He hated the thin, gaunt look that made his cheekbones stick out further than they should. He hated the faint scars on his neck. He hated his grey, blind eye that had no life. Without even thinking, he lashed out. 

This time, Justin did jump. He hadn't expected Scott to punch the mirror, much less break it. But he did. And glass went everywhere. 

Scott took a step back, breathing heavily as the top of his hand bled. "That's what I think about the current me," he growled. 

Justin recovered quickly and shook his head. "And you... don't see the problem?" He turned and pointed in the corner where Domino was curled up, shivering, away from her angry master. "Since when is your dog afraid of you?" 

Scott swallowed hard as tears sprang into his eyes. Only now did he feel the pain in his hand and looked down to see it bleeding. 

Justin sighed. "Come on." He took him to the bathroom to get his hand cleaned up and bandaged. 

It was a couple hours later. Scott was calm. Quiet. Withdrawn. Depressed. But calm. And Justin had let him come, not to work, but just to see anyone he wanted to, then leave. And the first place he stopped was Hope's open office. He knocked, while his eyes found the floor. 

Given permission to come in, he eased down in one of her empty chairs, but not until he'd let the door gently fall shut behind him. Just sitting in silence for the longest time, a new tear rolled down his cheek. His eyes were glued to the wall, staring at nothing, and not daring any glances at Hope. 

"I'm out of control." His words came out almost a whisper. "I don't know what to do. I just... I have... no idea who I am anymore and..." More silent tears streamed down his cheeks. He felt as if he were back in her other office...before she'd come to the Elite. The one with all the books and knick-knacks and the big window he'd liked so much. "I thought I was going to be fixed and now... now I just feel worse."