Rage

Walking to the interrogation room, Garret could feel all the eyes on him. It was a different stare this time. There was even more distrust. More caution since he wasn't restrained. They were afraid of him, and he could feel it.

Getting to the room, Garret sank down in a chair, but shook his head at Nate's offer for something to drink. He'd promised he would talk...but now...now he didn't know what to say. He'd been banking on Victoria saying she'd stay with him or at least giving him some kind of positive response. But neither had come. He had no idea what she would do, and as such, he was stuck between a rock and a very hard place.

His eyes glanced up to Nate's, and he remained silent for several long moments. He'd planned on revealing everything, in an effort to build trust. But how could he, without knowing what Victoria wanted? If she wanted to escape and leave, he wasn't going to risk exposing the fact that she was Medridge's granddaughter. There was no way the Elite would let her get away if they had that bit of information. Garret had planned to ask for protection for her as well...but without knowing if she'd even stay at all, how could he convince them that she was on the same side he was? His plan was falling apart.

With the rising stress and a new surge of adrenaline, Garret slammed his fist down on the table without warning, before getting up and giving the metal chair a swift kick to send it flying into the corner. It was so sudden and so forceful that it would have made anyone jump. Putting his hands on his head, he growled in frustration and paced a small circle. It was so out of control. Everything. This whole thing. Himself.

On the other side of the mirror, Reese shook his head. Garret was unpredictable and dangerous. He'd had absolutely no reason for this outburst. Reese didn't approve of the lack of restraints, but he'd handed the reins to Nate, and wasn't going to interfere. Regardless, he didn't trust Garret or his displays of rage.

Stopping, Garret leaned his hands on the table, refusing to look back at Nate again. His breaths came more rapidly as his pulse pounded, and his muscles started to shake. The sensations caused a new memory to surface, sending him back to when he was just seventeen...

"...Control yourself, Garret."

"I don't want to!" Garret took a swing at the punching bag. He was soaked with sweat and out of breath, yet refused to stop. He'd just been tortured, had barely escaped a mission alive, then had found out he'd been lied to. His hot temper was something that had reared its head a lot these past few months, and they were coming down on him hard for it. 

"You need to learn to use your anger." The other agent stopped the bag from swinging, and looked at him sternly. "You need to harness it. Control it. Otherwise, you'll never survive your next assignment." 

Garret shouted a string of profanity before turning on the agent, starting an all-out fight between them. It had only ended when Garret had finally been pinned face-down on the floor, barely able to breathe. 

"Enough!" the other agent commanded. "If you don't start shutting down your emotions, you will never succeed. If you cannot control yourself, then you will learn not to feel. You will act with your head and never, ever your heart."

It had been a constant struggle for him to ignore his feelings. To not be upset with betrayal. To not care when he'd been wronged. And later, part of his stability had come from the drugs, making him even more the perfect soldier for Medridge's plans. 

Garret took a deep breath and let it out slowly. There were no drugs to help him this time. Only his own willpower. He wasn't used to these kinds of emotions, which made this whole thing even harder. If he'd been back at the Agency estate, he would probably have picked someone to beat up just to feel better. But that wasn't an option here.

In reality, only a couple minutes had passed, and he finally returned his gaze to Nate. His own eyes were so full of these overwhelming feelings, yet so empty at the same time. "I did all this to be with Victoria." There. He'd said it. He straightened and resumed pacing as he talked. "We met a few years ago, but her gr... our commanding officer didn't want us to be together. So I devised a plan to defect. I planted a clue only she would find, so I knew she'd be the one to come for me. And I was going to convince her to stay with me here."

He gritted his teeth. "But now I'm not so sure it's going to work." He paused and looked Nate square in the eye. "I'll only warn you once. If she chooses to leave, do not stop her. She is just as capable as I am at getting her way, and I'm pretty sure you don't want an office full of dead agents. But if she chooses to stay, I'm just asking that we be let free with the understanding that we'll both help fight against the Agency."

Then there was Aaron. He started pacing again. "Victoria wasn't the one who shot you. She brought another operative. I don't know what he's going to do, and that's the truth. But be careful - he's a hothead with a happy trigger finger...as you well know. I don't know if he'll report what's happened or try to get Victoria and me out of here, since he's loyal to me. At this point I'm in the dark on that one, I swear."

Finally calm enough, he grabbed the chair and put it back up to the table to sit, and leaned forward on his elbows. He was mentally and emotionally exhausted, yet so worked up, that if he didn't work off some of this adrenaline soon, he wasn't sure he could avoid another fight. He was falling towards depression and desperation, both a result of his own doing. His eyes dropped downward, and his voice came out in a lower, more subdued tone. He might not be telling Nate whole truths - Victoria's true identity still had to be kept secret for now - but he'd given his word to talk. "What else do you want to know?"


Even though Eli knew very little how to help his sister on all of his, he did know that it was a good thing she was willing to talk to someone. She'd always been so strong... She had to get through this.

He gave her leg a pat before starting in on his own vowl of soup. "It'll be okay... I promise. It's just another curve in the road. You got this."

Feeling his phone, he paused to read Scarlet's message. His brow furrowed in confusion. What was going on? He knew a little bit about her family, but she didn't talk much about them, so he'd never asked many questions. He hadn't even known she'd be with them at all on this trip though, so something was up.

Okay. See you soon. Miss you and anxious to talk.

Eli tried to make the rest of the evening light until he encouraged Ryan to go to bed. After that though, he got on his phone again to make the only connection he had...

...It was the next morning, and Eli had made the introductions before making himself scarce in his bedroom to give Justin and Ryan privacy at the kitchen table. He'd gotten a hold of Justin the night before, and Justin had suggested he come for a casual visit today just to get things started, then they'd play things by ear.

At the kitchen table, Justin took a seat and set aside his backpack, then took a moment to study Ryan's face. Her eyes. Her body language. "So...I've heard from your brother what's been happening..." He cocked his head as he paused. "But, I always like to go straight to the source. I'm not here to tell you you're crazy, poke fun, or tell you what you've been doing wrong. I'm just here to listen, and hopefully help straighten out any tangled thoughts that might be getting in the way."

He gave her slow nod. "We're not on a schedule, there's no right or wrong way to tackle this, and you're in the driver's seat." He grinned. "Which, from the sounds of it, you're pretty good at. So...how about you tell me your story - you can start wherever you like - and we'll just see where it leads?"