Heartache

Alec cocks his head a little and straightens up, sensing that this wasn't a normal interrogation happening. Hope was serious and she was hurting... badly. As cold as he could be, even Alec could see that in her eyes.

Hearing about Scott, one of his eyebrows lifts. Hope already knew a lot about the assimilation process, apparently. Most likely the information had come from Carson - at least that was what seemed logical. It appeared Scott was now having problems. "Not doing well, huh? You mean he finally lost it."

Rick's eyes narrow, feeling bad for Hope having to go through this, and upset with Alec for the cool tone with which he spoke. His emotions were strong enough for him to step in, whether Hope had started this conversation or not. "Scott was admitted to a... facility... to get help."

"So he did go crazy."

Rick frowns, anger flashing in his eyes and he gives Hope a sidelong glance, controlling his temper. "No, that's not what I said. He's just having trouble dealing with what happened to him, like Hope said."

"Yeah." Alec nods, ignoring Rick's irritation. "I'd say he did pretty good for holding out this long."

The casual response makes Rick just as curious as upset. "What are you talking about? Why would you say that?"

"Well, because." Alec shrugs. "Seventy-five percent of the chosen few to be assimilated wind up in the nuthouse." Seeing the blank expression on Rick's face, he lifts his eyebrows and looks to Hope as well. "Ahh... I bet Carson didn't know that, did he? He had enough clearance to know the process but I bet he was never informed of what happened to those unfortunate souls once they were let loose."

Rick wanted to lose his temper with Alec's matter-of-fact attitude. The man cared nothing about people, and Scott was Rick's friend. He held his anger at bay though, sacrificing his satisfaction by realizing that this might be an opportunity to understand more, and if so, it might be a doorway to helping Scott. He moves closer to Hope, wanting to be in on this. He'd dealt with Scott's medical care after this whole fiasco and he wanted to know more. Grabbing a chair, he sits near the bed and motions for Hope to do the same. He sensed this would not be a quick conversation. "What do you mean most end up in a nuthouse?"

Alec shrugs again. He didn't mind sharing this information. That's what he'd agreed upon - sharing his knowledge. He was just surprised they didn't already know this. "Hope, you're right. The assimilation process uses part of the brain that isn't normally used - at least not in the average person." He glances to her again, sensing that she had different motives for wanting to know this. Rick was looking at it from a medical standpoint, while she was looking at it from a psychological standpoint. "So first off, it's hard to maintain and control the data anyway. After that, it's the own recognition of the data that makes people go mad. See, all that information gets fed into the host... then they're presented with triggers to activate the information so that they can recognize and read the data as needed. The problem comes when there's no control and it's enough to make any man go insane. I worked with a guy who had been assimilated and it took him quite a while to get the hang of it - he was one of the few who didn't end up falling to pieces midstream."

Rick furrows his brow, trying to understand. "What do you mean by control? The ability to retrieve data?"

"No." Alec shakes his head. "The ability to stop it unless you need it."

Rick blinks. "But... we thought it worked like a computer. Like... you couldn't retrieve the information unless it was a command."

"It is a command. But the brain doesn't know how much information to give, or even when for that matter. It receives a trigger, like Hope said, and wham, the brain presents the information, wanted or not. It's kinda like a reflex."

Reese continues to think. "Well there have been times that Scott has retrieved information fine... like when asked a question, he can answer it without having realized he knew the answer."

"That's because it was audio."

Rick shakes his head. He looks at Hope, wondering if she was following as poorly as he was. "You lost me."

"Okay..." Alec tries to explain, his eyes bouncing between Rick and Hope. "Let's say you asked Scott who was in charge of level five. He would automatically give you an answer. It's knowledge he has now that he may or may not realize he has. That's an audio trigger. His brain hears the cue, searches for the answer and retrieves it. Visual triggers are different, because there is no question and answer. The question never exists, but the answer does anyway."

Rick sighs, still not understanding.

Alec taps his hand on the mattress, trying to think of the best way to tackle the subject. "Here, I'll give you an example." Reaching to the bedside table, he retrieves a notepad and shows it to Rick. Then he puts it behind his back. "What color is the notepad I'm holding?"

"White."

"That was an audio trigger. You had a question and you were able to answer it." Being careful to not aim at Hope, Alec whips out the notepad and without warning, whacks Rick in the face with it.

Rick jumps back, bewildered. "What was that for?"

"That was a visual trigger. You had no warning that you would recognize a notepad until it hit you in the face. No question - only an answer. The answer was that it was a notepad. The only problem is, no one asked you for that answer, and you didn't ask your brain for it either. It just flew at you and became your focus."

Now Rick was beginning to understand. Like a lightbulb going on, his eyes widen. "When Scott sees people... like you... or Phinox... that's why it throws him for a loop. Because he didn't ask to retrieve that information, it just... took over." His eyes got to Hope again. "So that's why when he has seen Agency people, he gets so wound up."

"Now you got it." Alec can't help a little grin. He didn't normally like sharing information, but seeing the lights go on was just a little bit enjoyable.

"So how... can that be stopped?"

"Practice." The notepad comes flying again, once again whacking Rick in the face.

"Ow!" Again, it comes in his direction, but this time Rick is quicker, reaching out to grab Alec's wrist before getting hit.

Alec cocks his head. "You just stopped it."

Rick pauses, slowly letting Alec's wrist go. "So... the information can be blocked then."

"Not blocked, really. More like deflected. It's actually the brain's ability to override the retrieval reflex."

"And like any reflex, it's hard to overcome. Which is why so few people can do it and why seventy-five percent end up in the nuthouse... because they can't control it."

"Exactly." Alec nods. "You have this notepad coming at your face twenty-four/seven, eventually you'll go insane."

"Okay, so... why hasn't Scott been bothered before? Why did it take this long?"

Alec shrugs. "Everyone is different. If I had to guess, I'd say it was because he wasn't being bombarded all the time - just once in a while. When he'd see me, or Phinox, for example. But what other visual triggers are there? Not very many. For someone actually in Agency surroundings every day, they come into contact with visual triggers constantly - literally. Every face they see is a trigger. Every location, map, file, you name it - which is why they lose their minds so quickly. Scott... I'd say it's just now catching up with him. Among other things."

"Other things?"

"Well... from what I hear, he's pretty angry... having trouble with nightmares, that sort of thing." Alec eyes Hope again, sensing that this subject was close to her. "Right?" Receiving affirmation, he nods.

"Would gaining control help those things?" Rick asks.

"Not really. Probably the other way around. His nightmares might be providing visual triggers, which makes them all the more real to him - so even if he isn't seeing Phinox, in his dreams he's seeing other things. But... controlling the reflex isn't going to make him less angry that he was captured... or less likely to have bad dreams about being tortured. I'd have nightmares too if that were me. Those elements are connected, but not dependent on each other." His eyes drift back to Hope. "That would have to be your and the hospital's department."

Rick sits back, feeling as thought they had just gained a giant step in understanding this whole thing. "How does someone gain control?"

"Like I said... practice."

"But what does that mean?"

"For some people, nothing. Some people just aren't capable of overriding a reflex. But those that are, they need to put themselves through the routine of retrieving and deflecting. It would be like you letting me swing the notepad at you several times a day so you could work on your block."

"So you're saying that Scott needs to allow the visual triggers to take place so he can learn to block them?"

"Deflect," Alec corrects. "He'll always wind up feeling something when he sees me or Phinox or anybody else whose file he memorized. But if he can control it, it won't take over his other senses. When I swing the notepad at you, your eyes zero in on it and your brain totally focuses on that one thing to judge it, decide whether or not you're going to stop it, then command an action, passive or aggressive. Basically what you'd need to do is learn to deflect rather than stop." He prepares to swing again. "Here... don't stop me. Deflect me... redirect me." He swings.

This time instead of grabbing Alec's wrist, Rick blocks with his hand, sending the notepad sliding down his arm and away from his face.

Alec freezes where he is. "The notepad still exists. But it's not in your face. You can still focus on it and decide to discard the information that the notepad has presented, or turn and pay attention to it."

"Can someone really accomplish that? The reality of the assimilation, I mean. Is it really possible for someone to control it that precisely?"

"Surprisingly, yes." Alec nods. "I've seen it. But it's not the majority, and I don't know if Scott can do it or not. Problem is... the practice of deflecting visual triggers requires the triggers to be present. And right now, I assume Scott wants nothing to do with them. But him ignoring the data he has, or trying to, is only going to make things worse, because he'll never train himself, and... like most, he'll literally go insane eventually."

Rick is silent for several moments, thinking through all they had just learned. "And that's the only way? Forcing visual triggers on him in an attempt for him to gain control?"

"Unfortunately. It would be like me whacking this notepad over the head of a child. Eventually they might get the idea and be able to stop me. But would they have the strength? Who knows. It might take a year for them to have enough muscle strength... but only if they didn't give up in the meantime." Alec sighs. "The Agency is still trying to perfect their own technology. They want it to be easier so they can assimilate more people to distribute more data. Currently there really is no other answer. I will say this though... if Scott has anger issues, and issues with nightmares and dealing with the past, it's just going to make all this harder. He's got more than one thing going against him." He thinks for a few seconds. "Physical exercise helps though."

"What?"

"Exercise... how it effects and stimulates the brain. With the one partner I had, it was easier for him to exercise his mind after he went for a run or sparred or anything like that. It had something to do with the area of the brain that was being used." Alec shrugs. "It's like going for a walk to clear your head... it can kind of be scientifically backed up but can't really be explained. But it's that same principle. It doesn't guarantee anything. I'm not saying that if Scott goes for a run then practices with visual triggers that he'll automatically be able to control it. But... it might help. Body and mind work together." His eyes move to Hope again. "I'm sure that's an elementary principle to someone like you."

Rick sighs deeply, taking it all in before he gets to his feet, wandering towards his counter. "That's a lot of information."

"Yep." Alec watches him, then returns his gaze to Hope. Rick was the one with all the technical questions. It wasn't surprising... he was the one who had dealt with Jason and Katie's oddities, along with Scott. It was only natural he was curious. But unless Alec had pegged Hope wrong, she was even more curious than Rick - it was only her reasoning that varied. "I know you want to believe Scott's going to be okay," he comments. "But don't set your heart on it. You might be in for more heartache than you know."


"Don't you-" Dylan moves towards the door, missing BJ as the boy takes off. "You little rat," he growls. Oh, well. Who knew what he would tell Mick? If the pills couldn't be found, then what proof was there?

Looking both ways, he heads towards his bunk at a brisk pace.


Mick looks out the office window and chuckles, seeing BJ running as fast as his short legs would carry him. "Now that's a boy in a hurry."

Getting up from his chair, he opens the door for his son and grins, making him slow down. "Whoa there, Bud. You in a race?"