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"What were you hoping would happen? Because thanks to you pulling this, she hates me now. I could have made it work if you'd let me."
Because of a lot of things, really, but he's latching on to whatever at the moment. There's no heat there, but there's no chill, either. He's just flat.
Broken.
Beaten.
"Please. Send me to the front. I want to fight. I'll either prove myself or die, I don't care which right now."
"Let's not dump all the blame on the Jack train, it looks like you guys had a lot of problems regardless. I'm not so sure it would've been any better if it wasn't here."
But that was besides the point.
"I really... really shouldn't send you to Europe, at this point, considering everything that happened. But if you really want to go..."
"We were having problems, but without this I would've had a goddamn chance. Why the hell do you think I asked you not to call them up?"
He looks over his shoulder at Jack and tries to muster anger, fury, the desire to just leap over the Director's desk and go for his throat. Instead, there's... nothing. His eyes are dull, there's no spirit there. No determination, no nothing.
"There's two things I want right now. Fighting in Europe, and being with her. And now all I've got is fighting. I'm not worth anything, Jack. Let me risk myself for people who are."
"Aaron, I realize you just went through a pretty bad argument, but you're delusional if you think it would've went that much better. The fact you've got such low self-worth at this point is really working against your argument right now."
Aaron is distraught and heartbroken and wants to hurt something. He's not stupid.
"Fuck my self worth, sir. All due respect. I came here to be a hero, and Sarah's right, that means putting everyone else above myself. The good of all. Right now, I'm no good to anyone except out there. They're right, all I'm good for is hurting people. At least I can protect people from folks worse than myself."
And frankly, if he dies? Good. He's got half a mind to put a spike through his own head right now anyway.
"Thank you. When does everyone leave? So I can get ready."
He probably won't bother preparing much. Everything here is going to just remind him, now. His voice is already thick, as if he's just waiting to be alone so he can let himself break down.
"How do you even talk to a director?" Nate asked himself walking up to the door scratching his head with his one free hand. The other clearly supporting his left leg with a crutch. His calf was bandaged from knee to ankle, a little red spotting here and there up the length of it, but on the whole. Not a terribly awful injury.
"Knocking is probably polite." he nodded to himself sagely, his free hand coming up to knock on the door the the office.
Slowly, Aaron looks away from the door and back to Jack, giving him a shaky nod.
"At least I'll turn 17 before it all goes to hell then. Thanks, sir. I'll try to come back alive, but if I don't... who gives a shit? You'd be better off. She would too."
Jack can respond, but Aaron will barely hear him and won't say anything back. He leaves, and forgets to close the door. Doesn't even acknowledge the newbie waiting outside. The newcomer can see his shoulders start to shake as soon as he thinks nobody's looking, and both him and Jack can hear the crying start as he heads down the corridor.
« Last Edit: Feb 17, 2016 20:51:19 GMT -6 by Aaron Silverman »
Nate watches the fellow move away, and begin to cry and he sighs. He had been on campus for less than twelve hours, managed to get a B+ in a class he didn't know was a class and got the crap kicked out of him in another class he didn't know was a class. On top of that, there was a war they were heading into. So much going on.
Waiting for a bit to let the Director get himself rearranged, Nate walks in, well limps in with a warm, kind smile on his face. "Uh, is now not a good time? I'm just confused about this place and uh... You're the director so I figured I talk to you?" He asks, his accent obviously not from the American Midwest.