Discoveries | TMR | Three

2:8

Hours driving; searching for an apartment or home in which to retreat for the evening, locating the Wicked compound, laying in wait. Slicing the arm of a guard to obtain a chip, murdering all others in the building before charging in, full steam ahead, and ripping each room to shreds, all the while barely sharing a single word amongst each other.

This was not what Daniel had expected, and Nick could sense that from the get go.

With the absence of Adeline, it fell to Daniel to swipe that chip from the guards arm, which caught Nick by surprise, even more so when the boy had willingly offered to do so. He had always been under the illusion that Daniel did not like violence; did not enjoy inflicting pain upon others - at least now, anyway.

That had been the reason for his position during the night of the Right Arm, you see; to stop himself becoming a target for Wicked's brutality and avoid having to react in a similar manner. Far from the boy whom he was in the Glade, that is for sure.

But perhaps Nick had been wrong in his presumptions. Perhaps Daniel still had the heart of ruthlessness that was required for such confrontations. Perhaps that part of him had never left.

Tucked away in a room by themselves, surrounded by desks and tables strewn with paperwork, Nick tilts his body to the left slightly until the side of his head is mere inches from Maggie's. "I thought you said he doesn't like violence."

Maggie does not even look at him; her eyes too busy scanning the two sheets of paperwork she holds in her hands. "He doesn't," she responds, placing those sheets on the 'useless' pile she has created before turning to look at him and smiling. "Don't mean he ain't good at it, though."

She walks away after that comment; briskly to the other side of the room, but Nick stays where he is, silently contemplating what she said. They make sense, actually; her words. He has a damn good shot with a gun. Matt taught him well, so it would be understandable that he would be the one chosen to take solitude on that rocky perch in the Right Arm's camp, and it is only reasonable that, given his track record in the Scorch, he would be the one to end the first guards life.

How Daniel can remain so calm and collected; avoidant of any and all conflict in the Harbour, yet so easily slip back into a callous killer when the time calls for it - like tonight - makes complete and utter sense to Nick, though he cannot help but be reminded of the Daniel that so mercilessly murdered George in the Glade.

After witnessing his eliminating of the guard by the outskirts of the compound, the images had all been brought back to him; being roused from his slumber by the ear splitting sounds of Adeline's screams, sprinting out of the Homestead, watching the struggling hunter being dragged from his prey, and being unable to do anything but try and comfort Adeline whilst she ceased the dead and bleeding boy in her arms.

George. Youngest Glader. Younger than Chuck, he reckons. A child.

A murdered child, under his leadership.

He still blames himself for that, and sometimes, he still despises Daniel for it, but beneath the superficial hatred, Nick knows in his heart that it was not Daniel who acted that day; it was Wicked. He was under Wicked's control, just like Ben. Just like Henry. Just like Winston. Just like Tim.

Daniel was always a bully, yes, but never a killer, and perhaps if Nick had only listened to Adeline when he had come clean about knowing her secret, none of it would have happened.

"Has he always been like that?" he asks, his voice raised only so Maggie can hear.

"Like what?" she questions absentmindedly.

"So... timid."

"Uh," the young girl starts. "In the Scorch, no. In the Warehouse, yea."

Nick nods his head slowly, knowing that she cannot see him due to her facing the other direction. "What changed?"