Tempest

6 - Healing

Four's Logbook

So ... I guess I'm doing this again.

Apparently, a lot of people read my logs. Or, at least a lot of the people I knew. After I was ... gone ... they went through them and combed through in interest. They saw my thoughts, felt like I was really there at times. I wouldn't know, because obviously I wasn't.

Gates told me that while I'm building myself back up, I should keep a record of it. So here I am, I guess. I don't really know what to say anymore. Trying to get back into the swing of things ... it feels like there's just broken pieces of me inside. I can't make jokes like I used to, can't bring myself to care as much as I used to. I'm just ... numb.

Sorry for anyone reading this, that probably sounded a bit too depressing.

I am grateful for a few things, of course. Gates has been nothing but amazing, which is why I'm glad that Briggs didn't punish her for saving me. She's helped me through every step of readjusting so far. She keeps others away from me when I need space, and she's there when I need company. And for the whole thing with me now being a part of the 6-4 ... it just feels great to have someone who has my back for these kinds of things. It feels great to be a part of a family.

And Kay ... God, I can't express how fantastic it is to have her back. She's more than just my best friend, she's ... well, she's everything to me. Hard to believe that a few years back, she was nothing to me but the enemy. Yet ... now she's my whole world. If I'd had to go on without her at my side, I ... I honestly don't know what I'd do. I'm glad that I don't have to think about that.

— THE RANGE —

Another burst of bullets ever so slightly off target.

Gates nodded at him from the side, where she watched his progress with her arms crossed. "You're definitely getting better."

He grunted in mild acknowledgement. It wasn't good enough. Or, maybe it actually would be, but he was trying to go for perfection here. He needed to. And he was going to stay here in the shooting range until he-

"I'm telling you, prosthetics would steady your aim-"

"I don't want prosthetics," he growled. "I just ... I just don't."

He lined up the rifle again, pulling the trigger once he thought he was on target. For a moment, he thought that he was golden, but then the recoil kicked in and jerked his aim away once more. His three remaining appendages on his left hand were having a significantly harder time steadying the barrel than they would be if they were a complete set. He exhaled frustratedly.

"Look, you honestly don't need the practice," Gates scolded. "Your aim would more than sufficiently neutralize an enemy. So why do you insist on getting it perfect?"

"Because it has to be," he replied offhandedly, waving her away.

"Well, prosthetic fingers would make it perfect-"

"It has to be perfect without prosthetics" he clarified.

She crossed her arms even further, if that was possible. Her body language was that of someone quickly losing patience. "So, you want perfect aim without the aid of prosthetics for your missing fingers. Right, good luck with that."

Tobias ignored her and raised the gun for another shot.

"This is about you proving yourself, isn't it?"