Brainwash

Aaron couldn't help a little chuckle as Sam returned, and he looked between his options for a moment before choosing the peanut butter. "Thanks." He took a lick of the ice cream and quirked a little grin. "This is really good." He liked ice cream. He always had. He just... hadn't really taken time to enjoy it in... a very long time. 

He pulled his feet up on the bench and sat sideways, shifting between paying attention to his ice cream and paying attention to Sam. Eventually, his thoughts surfaced. "So... how do you do it?" He licked his cone, sucking the mouthful of ice cream. "You've spent weeks... months... trying to convince me I'm not a prisoner. You've given me good food, you've entertained me, you've taken me outdoors... and yet here I am, practically begging to give up Agency intel to your superior." He shook his head and straightened out his bad leg, trying not to wince. "You say you don't brainwash... but how else do you explain my pointless willingness to spill everything?"


"Hmm?" Garret put the papers back on the desk and tried to shuffle them into some kind of order. "Oh. Yeah. I'm fine." He fiddled with the papers some more before glancing at Nate. "Just... restless I guess." He shrugged and resumed playing with a pencil. 

Quiet for a few minutes, he finally sighed and tossed the pencil aside. "I keep thinking about all you and Laura have done for me," he admitted. "And how great it's been staying with you guys. I just..." He shrugged again. "Think maybe I'm to the point where... you guys should get your life - and your house - back." He paused. "As long as... that wouldn't mean me having to come back here to live."