Seeing Nate’s hand out of the corner of his eye, he ignored it at first. He’d rather stay here and sulk than get up. But he hadn’t had anything to eat all day, and he knew that was probably just adding to his exhaustion. Not to mention, he figured Nate wouldn’t easily take no for an answer at this point and he was tired of arguing. He disregarded the offer for help, and got up on his own, inwardly cringing at how much his feet hurt.
“There’s nothing more to talk about,” he mumbled as he picked up his shoes and socks. But he wouldn’t put them back on, knowing it would be too painful. Instead, he tossed them in his cell before following Nate upstairs, remaining barefoot. He forced himself to eat half a sandwich in the break room and drank some more water, but that was it, and he refused to talk any further to Nate about anything of importance. His wall had cracked beyond his comfort zone tonight, and he was done being vulnerable.
The following day, he remained in his cell, not even working out at all, which was contrary to his normal pattern. Truth be told, his hands and feet hurt too badly to do much at all, but he also had lost his will to fight, at least for the moment. He spent that night wandering the halls when no one else was around – not getting into anything, but just feeling the building and trying to figure out more about the people here by observing the odds and ends in their offices or on their desks, or the pictures that hung on their cubicle walls. Friends, family, smiles. There was a strange peace here. The people were strange. Their lives were strange. He found Nate’s cubicle and took note of several framed photos of Laura, and one of their little family of three. Were they what gave Nate hope? Gave him reason to get up every morning? Garret wondered.
It wasn’t until the day after that, when Garret finally emerged again during the day. It was mid-morning, and he once again stood in Reese’s office.
Reese immediately took note of Garret’s battered knuckles, and his eyebrows rose. “Good morning, Garret. Something I can help you with?”
Garret shrugged. “Just wondered if you’d made a decision about Aaron.”
“Aaron again.” Reese sighed. “No, I haven’t. And it may take me a while. At the moment, Rick’s having a hard enough time just keeping him still so he doesn’t rip out his stitches, let alone try to strangle anyone.”
“Yeah, he can be…stubborn.”
“Seems to be a pattern with you guys.”
Garret smirked a little. “Look…” He replayed in his head the conversation he’d had with Justin a couple days ago. “Friends aren’t really something that exists within the Agency ranks. But…Aaron came close. That’s the only real reason I want you to give him a chance here. I know he doesn’t want to be here, but considering the alternative…I think he’ll come around eventually. I just want to make sure he gets a fair chance. That’s all.”
Reese leaned back in his chair and cocked his head. This calm, respective approach was new, and much more appealing. “What happened to your hands?”
The chance in subject took Garret by surprised, and he flexed his still-sore hands. At least they looked better than a couple nights ago. “Um…just got frustrated. But only with the punching bag,” he assured.
“Uh-huh.” Reese decided to accept the simple answer – if anything major had happened, he would have heard about it from Nate. “Well, I’m going to keep Aaron here for as long as I can, and I’ll give him as fair a chance as I can. No promises, but if I can see any potential for rehabilitation, I’ll give it my best shot. That’s all I can offer.”
Garret blinked, not having expected quite that kind of response. “Okay…” The following awkward silence was enough to make him turn and leave, letting the conversation end there. He made his way slowly across the main floor, trying to ignore the now-familiar leery glances from the Elite staff. Would it always be this way?
Getting to Nate’s space, he leaned his arms on top of the cubicle wall, and looked down at Nate. “Please tell me there’s something I can do today.” He wanted so badly to be distracted from his own thoughts. He’d had only a few hours sleep during the last two nights combined, and it showed on his weary face and dim eyes. Every time he closed his eyes, he met another nightmare, while staying awake only provided too much time to think. He was going mad, and just wanted something, anything to do, if only for a short time.
Justin sat across from Ryan at the picnic table in the park, having chosen this spot just as something different. He’d waited a few days to see her again, giving her space and time. He hadn’t heard from Eli, which was a good thing, but still knew this was only the start of a long road. He was curious to see today how Ryan was doing, and whether or not anything had changed.
“So…” He offered Ryan a gentle smile. “How ya doing?”