First Year

⚔︎Rip Me to Pieces⚔︎

⚡︎"C'mon in McAlister."

The door handle turned and the door pushed open. Black combat boots sliding in the doorway followed by the sound of clanking gun holsters and over-filled utility belt. Big hazel eyes peered around the backroom and then over to his trainer. Placing his hands on his hips as he stood feet shoulder-width apart. Thick accented voice ringing through the still air of the quiet room.

"How'd ya know it was me?"

"Call it a talent. What's the trouble short stack?"

Richard, not even looking up from his paperwork, addressed the youngest of his agents. He could always sense Conner's presence. Usually, because it was so tense, even though as time went by it grew less tense. Not altogether, only when certain people were near him. It usually faded whenever Damian got near the kid. But in time, Richard started to sense it faded whenever he would be nearby. It was quick and came straight from nowhere it seemed, nonetheless, it wasn't anything at all to complain about.

After a few moments, of writing. Richard finally looked up to Conner and caught him still standing that way. Just looking at him. He could tell the kid tried to play it tough, but his expressive eyes were telling another story. They were filled with concern and a little bit of fear.
Dropping his pen onto the desktop, he focused his brown eyes on the boy's hazel and heaved out a sigh.

"Drop your hands from your hips boy."

Conner nodded and did so. Eyeing around the room before stepping back. Leaning his back on the closed door behind him.

"Look, I just uh... y'sure you're alright?"

Richard simply regarded Conner a moment. Before moving from behind the desk to the front and then slightly sitting on the edge of it.

"You're still shaken up 'bout that last mission. S'alright, t'be it was scary. I know that."

Conner didn't say anything at all. He just looked to Richard with his big round hazel eyes. He honestly didn't know what to say about the matter or how to even think. He was still so young when it all happened and when he had to do what it was he did. At only twenty-one and after only a couple of missions. Conner had to do the unthinkable in order to save one of his own.

Baker was being strangled and Conner had to think quickly and place matters into his own hands. Ever since then, he didn't sleep at night, then only a week after, he had to be evaluated. No other agent had to get evaluated in that way.

They poked at him, prodded, and told him he was "destined for greatness" all because he was just a little different than the rest. He wasn't a kid to them, he wasn't even a person. He was the next weapon, a project.
A killing machine.

That's all he was to them. That's all he was to himself. Conner believed that he wasn't anything but their plaything. Not a good person at all, someone who ended lives and got praised for it. It was only once, but that was all it took. It didn't occur to him that he /had/ to do it. That it was his job, that it was either their life or Richard's. They've tried for a year straight to get to Conner and to break him down piece by piece. And they succeeded.

Inhaling sharply Conner rushed over to Baker and rammed himself right into him. Richard wasn't at all a hugger, and Conner knew that but he didn't care at all.

Baker heaved another sigh and held onto Conner a moment. Lightly squeezing before placing his hands to the boy's shoulders. Gently moving him back so that he could look at the kid's face. Speaking in a quieter tone for his sake.

"Conner. It'll be alright, y'had t'do it. I'm proud of you, what y'did wasn't a bad thing."

Conner only nodded in response, still not saying a word. Heaving out a long-winded deep breath he stepped back and let go. Trying his hardest to take Baker's words and have them sink in. Any type of reassurance he could've used it all right then. So that was what he was doing at that moment.
But it was hard and he was still so shaken up and vulnerable about everything. He was trying to seek comfort from anywhere, he couldn't take it anymore.