I'm Sorry

Relief swept through Zan as he heard Destiny's words. He'd known there was a possibility he could have scared her away by moving too fast, but was glad he hadn't. A smile started to spread on his face, and he was about to say more when he realized she was pulling him back in for another kiss. Slipping his arms around her this time, he held her close, simply letting her lead and returning her kiss just as much as she gave. Her touch to the side of his face made him wonder if he might melt right there, it was so warm and soft.

As she drew back, his heart was racing, his breathing shallow. His smile returned though, as did a light laugh, making his eyes twinkle. He left his arms draped around her waist, letting himself enjoy holding her for just a few more seconds. "Make sure of what, hmm?" 


Garret shook his head, still a bit bewildered, although a smile did emerge. "I dunno... we'll see how this goes. These hands don't always know how to be nice." That really was his only concern - that he might hurt somebody, and Reese would surely end it right then and there. Taking a deep breath, he stood. "I guess I'm gonna go down to the rec room and see what I've got to work with. So if you need me, that's where I'll be."


Aaron remained quiet the entire time Sam talked, his eyes mostly remaining down to study a snag that was unraveling in the carpet just under Reese's desk. It was hard listening. It sounded like he was a project. Something to be fixed. Like a successful lab experiment. He'd been forced to come here against his will, and they had changed him into a weakling with nowhere to go and no future. 

Realizing it was quiet, he glanced up quickly to see Sam looking at him. His eyes had become clouded. The darkness had crept back in without warning. And his emotions were churning. 

"Well..." Reese leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers as he thought. He had definitely seen marked improvement in Aaron, and was genuinely impressed with what Sam had accomplished. Aaron had been a tough case, and just having him sitting here calmly was amazing in itself. "Obviously the whole point of this program is freedom in the end." He shifted his gaze to Aaron. "Sam here has put up quite a case in your favor. There's not a whole lot I can argue with... What do you have to say?" 

Aaron opened his mouth, then shut it again. He was doing exactly what he'd sworn he never would do. He was sitting in this chair, ready to betray everything he had fought so hard for, for almost half his life. He had convinced himself that Sam was not brainwashing him, and yet here he was at the total opposite end of where he'd started out, not only willingly but of his own asking. 

He shifted uncomfortably in his chair as his eyes dropped once more. "I don't think I have anything to give you that Garret already hasn't," he answered tensely. Quietly. 

Reese cocked his head. "Is that what you'd like to do? Provide us with Agency intel? Because we'd be happy to hear anything you've got. Garret has shared a lot, yes, but there's no way he can remember to tell us everything, so you may be able to help more than you think." 

Again, there was a long pause. Aaron shifted again, and his jaw muscles tightened. He could feel the hard knuckles hitting his face for making mistakes. He could taste the dirt as he hit the ground, punished for being weak. He could feel the anger and the determination to prove he was worthy of being an agent. He had suffered for years to get to where he'd been. To achieve his position. And today, in this moment, he was willingly throwing it all away. Admitting it had all been a waste. Admitting his entire life thus far had been nothing but a mistake. "I don't want to help Elite." His eyes rose to meet Reese's. "I just want out of here." Without warning, he got to his feet, grabbed his crutch, and limped out of the office without looking back. 

Reese let out a long, slow sigh as he looked to Sam. "I'm sorry but... I don't think he's ready."

Aaron's pace was as fast as he could handle it - and faster, even though it hurt like mad. He was tired of hobbling. Tired of going slowly, and instead of being careful, he grit his teeth through the pain of putting too much weight on his leg. Returning to his room, he shut the door before sitting down on the edge of the bed. Looking at his crutch, he hurled it at the far wall where it hit a lamp, sending it to the floor and shattering the light bulb. Just staying seated, he glared at the floor, trying to regain control.