Mission: Insanity

Chapter 3: Horror of People on the Radio

Chapter 3

"I'm sorry, Agent Key, but these things take time. We'll check them again next week," my doctor told me after he finished examining my leg.

I clenched my fist. "You said today. They said today. I was promised today."

"We said that they might be ready. We can't guarantee anything."

False hope.  That's what they were trying to give me.  It wasn't hard to tell.

I turned and punched the wall. My fist went straight through the drywall. Doctor Kratz sighed. "But we are switching your medications. Which ones have you been taking?"

"What do you mean? Don't you know all of that?"

"I know which ones we've given you, but I don't know which ones you've actually taken."

I sighed. "Just the big yellow ones. But only when my chest hurts really bad."

"What about for your leg? Did you take the small ones?"

"The chalky tablets? No. I took one, but I didn't like them."

He sighed again. "It's not about what you like to take, it's about what'll make you better."

"Would it have stopped me from punching the wall?" I asked sarcastically.

"If you had taken them, we might've been able to take your stitches out today."

"I have way too many stitches in my leg for them to come out this quickly. Even I know that. But thanks for trying."

I stood up to leave, wincing only slightly as my weight shifted onto my bad leg.

"We can do some of the treatment here, if you want. It doesn't have to be the pills if those don't work for you."

I knew what that meant. I sat back down on the bed. "I better get a blue band-aid."

~~

I entered my room sporting four blue band-aids on my hip from where I got my medication shots. They didn't help anything. Or at least I didn't think they helped anything. Everyone else was so convinced that it would make me better.

Yeah. I wish.

"How did it go?" Chelsea asked as she walked in behind me.

I turned around and glared at her. "I thought they would've told you that I punched a wall."

Chelsea sighed. "Yeah, they did. But I thought if I could talk to you we could figure something out. Calm you down a bit. At least now the medications will help."

I resisted the urge to punch another wall.

"I want to go running."

That shocked Chelsea. "What do you mean?" she asked.

"I want to go running."

She seemed to be debating how to respond. "You know you can't."

"Can you figure something out? I just need to move."

She nodded. "I'll go see what I can do."

She closed the door behind her as she walked out. I sighed in relief. I didn't want her here right now. I needed her to go away. But of course I couldn't tell her that. Apparently I have to spend time with people. I don't like it.

Someone knocked at the door. I groaned and stood up to answer it. It was Agent Katherine.

"What" I asked.

She sighed. "I knew things didn't go how you wanted today-"

I closed the door on her.

"Brooke, I seriously need to ask you a question."

I opened the door, but not all the way.

"What?"

"There's something wrong with your file."

"That's not a question," I responded.

"Did you do something to it?"

"Can't you just check that?"

"We can't access it."

I shrugged. "Not my problem. I don't care."

"Was it you?"

"Do you think it was me?"  She didn't respond, so I did.  "People have been following me and staying with me at all times. My computer time is restricted.  I don't have the access codes that I used to.  When would I have done that?"

"I know what you are capable of, even in this state."

"Yeah, having my leg kind of destroyed doesn't prevent me from closing a door."

I swung it shut in her face, but she stuck her foot in to block it.  "Brooke, the situation surrounding your file is different than everyone else's and you know that.  I need to know.  Did someone change it?  Even if it wasn't you that did, I need to know."

I knew exactly what she was implying, but I didn't bite.  "Like I said earlier, not my problem."  Then I fully closed the door.

I had a few minutes alone before Chelsea came back with Nathan. I almost didn't let them in, but they brought food and that was fine.

Fine. Not good, just fine.

"So Angela passed her final test a few weeks ago," Nathan said. They often did this: filling me in on everything that happened when I was gone.

"It took her three tries though," Chelsea added. "Not that she will say that out loud."

"Ok," I replied.

Chelsea and Nathan looked at each other. I looked at my plate of fries.

"How's Mallory doing?" I asked.

Neither of them responded right away.

There were two people that hadn't talked to me since I had gotten back, and I didn't know exactly why.  I had my guesses for both, but I couldn't know for sure until they talked to me.

"I know Ned died going after me. You don't have to sugarcoat everything for me."

"I don't think you want to know," Chelsea said.

"Why? Does she hate me now?" I rolled my eyes, then turned serious. "I would rather hear it from you than from her."

Nathan and Chelsea looked at each other for a long second. Finally, Nathan spoke. "She's not mad at you. She's mad at Agent Katherine."

"Why?" I asked.

"She was one of the people who fought for you to keep your Elitist title."

The Elitist title.  My position on the highest level team within the organization, which I would no longer be a part of because of my condition.  Which is most likely why none of them had talked to me since I returned.

"Why would she do that?"

"She said that even if you couldn't go on missions, you survived all of that. Very few people here could've done that. No one, in fact."

Chelsea nodded in agreement. "Honestly, Brookie, if I was in your place I would be dead. Or I would've cracked. But you didn't."

"Yeah, we know you aren't in the condition you were before, but you did the impossible."

"Why couldn't you tell me that? Why did you say I wouldn't want to know?" I asked.

Chelsea looked at Nathan. "I think you know why."

People still expected things out of me. Even now.

"But I can't do anything anymore," I replied.

"We know that one day you will be able to. The two of us, Mallory, your Elitist team.  We all believe in you," Nathan answered.

But somehow this support from my friends felt like more pressure.