A Mood Piece

I-… We…
This is fucking stupid.

I’ve been ungrounded. We’ve been driving toward ‘something’ to ‘somewhere’. Fracture got a good bruise on his arm after giving me that smug answer but I haven’t been able to get him to give me another one since. That’s not the ridiculous part though.

Fracture has me writing stuff for him to post with his account. What the hell was the point of making him a contributor if I still have to write when he posts. It’s just incredibly fucking stupid. Even now he continues to try to explain it like a broken record.

“It sets the mood. It gives context to what’s going on. Quit calling me stupid.”
He just goes on and on and on.

How’s this for mood? Did I get enough context in there for you. Stupid.

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The following took place roughly 15 minutes before departing from the motel.
I had finished packing my own personal effects and was heading out to meet subject 926 at the car. I opened the door to find 926 wasn’t at the car. He was on the walk way just outside the door staring off into the view of trees waiting for me.

“We’re heading for another test aren’t we? They still aren’t done with me yet are they? They aren’t ever going to done with me,” he said growing increasingly bitter with every word he said until he was practically growling with each word he spoke.

I wasn’t sure what to say. I’m not supposed to give 926 any indicators of whether or not the testing was done or whether or not it would ever end. In light of my orders, I suppose I did the wrong thing here.

I reached out to 926 and put a hand on his shoulder.
“… I’m sorry,” I said letting my tone tell most of what I wanted to say for me. And then after I gave that a few seconds to sink in I gave his shoulder a tight squeeze. Something I knew he would recognize as encouragement.
“You can do this. Man the fuck up.”

Only then did he start to calm down again.
After a minute of us standing there like that, he put his hand on my hand and he turned to face me. He nodded in acknowledgement… and then he slugged me hard in the face knocking me on my ass.
“Don’t fucking touch me,” he said and then headed for the car.

Analysis: We should have never separated 926 completely from his peers. Subject appears to depend on support to maintain control. I suggest revaluating our long term plans for 926.

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For the record, I don’t need support. I don’t need anything.
Fracture sees what he wants to see.