Mikael has to flick the wheel of his lighter five times before it finally produces a flame. He holds it up to the end of the cigarette hanging from his lips, the warmth of the fire standing out against the cold evening air. He’ll have to scavenge around for a new one pretty soon, but that’s for a later date. Likely much later than now, with everything that’s going on now.

He itches for another phantom to shoot, for anything he can shoot, but everyone is forbidden from heading out on their own without explicit permission from one of the higher-ups - in their case, Karim. He settles for the buzz of nicotine in his veins as he takes a drag of his cigarette and leans his arms against the metal railing of the balcony of their quarters.

The room they were assigned is on the second story of a modest building - once a motel, if he remembers correctly, but gives a decent view of the setting sun and the array of lights that make up F-6. But pretty scenery has never been enough to calm his nerves and that’s especially the case right now.

He left the sliding glass door to the balcony cracked open. Lionel’s pacing footsteps echo from inside, his manic energy feeding more and more into Mikael's irritation as it continues. At least they're all dressed down now; the faint sound of bare feet on a carpet is much less likely to make him snap than the weight of combat boots, but it remains audible regardless.

“Do you think Sira’s gonna be okay?”

Therese’s voice. Last he looked, she was splayed out on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. Rani was the only one missing from their crew; she’d gone off to find them something for dinner.

“Hopefully, I mean, this is a pretty big deal, right?” Lionel doesn’t cease his pacing as he talks. To his credit, he tries to keep his voice low, due to how thin the walls of the building are. “Like, this could mean an end to the virus. A way to undo all of this mess for good.”

Mikael squeezes his eyes shut. The beginning of a tension headache builds in his temples. Christ, Mikael desperately wants to shoot something, but instead, he takes another drag of his cigarette.

He’s not sure what to make of the newcomer. Not really. He’s seen orphans carted into settlements on caravans from places destroyed by the phantoms that look less pitiful than Sira does, in terms of both appearance and disposition. From the first moment he laid eyes on them at the department store, to when he watched them walk out of the garage with Karim, they’ve carried themselves like captured prey. Wiry limbs smeared with dirt, eyes as wide as the moon, jumping at loud noises or when someone would try to get their attention, and shoulders raised high around them like makeshift walls.

And yet, everyone borders on treating them like some kind of savior.

It pisses him off.

It’s not out of sympathy, no. He’s not sure if he’s even capable of feeling sympathetic about anything. It’s more out of frustration towards everyone else for not seeing the same thing he sees, that this mystery individual who looks half-dead and can hardly remember their own name clearly can’t shoulder the expectations they’re placing on them. Even if all the CPC needs is Sira’s blood, or something to that effect, that kind of pressure is going to crush them beneath its weight. If they even make it that far.

The ignorance, the naivety, that’s what pisses him off.

Rani sees it, at least a little, but seldom ever goes against the consensus of those above her due to the role she plays. Even if she knew something her superiors were doing was questionable, she would show little resistance, unless it crossed a certain line in the sand. Lionel can't see much past his ego, and his difficulty keeping his attention off Sira would have Mikael label him as a pervert, but the light in the other man's eyes gives off the impression of wanting to dissect the person he was looking at more than anything else. Therese continues to demonstrate a significant obliviousness to others’ body language, even some of the most obvious cues, although that comes off as more of an innate issue she can’t do much to change than a matter of ignorance.

Karim sees it. Most definitely. He's like that, but odds are he'll take the situation as seriously as Mikael would expect him to and defer to the Director's wishes. To his credit, Mikael's witnessed him mouthing off the Director in person. He doesn't display the same obedience as Rani.

Regardless of the reasoning behind everyone’s behavior, it still aggravates him when he’s the most observant person in the room. The most analytical. It’s a curse as much as it is a useful tool. Perhaps his teammates were never put in a life situation where that kind of skill set is needed for survival, perhaps not. And to him, Sira reads as one of the insects that will eventually be squashed under the CPC’s heel.

The specifics of how it goes down will vary, but he’ll shave himself bald if there’s a different outcome.

“Hey.”

He looks behind him to see Rani at the door, holding two bottles of water, one nestled under her arm, and a plate of some kind of mush. She gives him an awkward smile as she steps outside, bare-footed, offering the plate and one of the bottles to him. He takes the water bottle but shakes his head at the food. She shrugs and sets it down on the concrete of the balcony next to the door, then turns to prop her back against the railing, untwisting the cap of her own bottle of water.

“You did well today,” she says, “Sira would probably be a goner if you weren’t always on top of things. Really, you’re the one who’s probably given me the least hassle since I was given this position, and I’m thankful for it. Therese is dedicated, but she worries too much about things going wrong, and Lionel is...well...y’know.”

Stolen story; please report.

Praise or approval doesn't matter to him in the slightest, not harboring any doubts about his capabilities, but he's not foolish enough to say that aloud to someone. He's content to let others say whatever they want in that respect, unless it starts getting tiresome, or like they're trying to gas him up for an ulterior motive.

“You point, I shoot,” he decides to say, shrugging, but that makes him sound mindless, so he follows it up, “unless you make a stupid call. Thought you might have today. Not sure about that yet.”

“Jeez. That’s good to know, I guess. And I’m assuming you mean Sira?” She purses her lips. “I’m still not completely sure about that myself, but I think it was the right thing to do. I suppose we’ll find out soon enough.”

“Guess so.”

She studies his face for a moment. It bugs him when she does that. He can read people well, sure, but some of them - like Karim and Rani - have specific looks on their faces that evade his discernment. She must’ve gotten it from the Captain.

“Are you doing alright?”

“I’m fine.”

She snorts. “Don’t give me that. It’s obvious you have something on your mind.”

Okay, maybe he isn’t the only observant person, but Rani’s ability to pick up on things is in its infancy, something that comes with her training and her desire to live up to her role as a leader. Unlike Mikael’s case, it’s also something that was born out of good intentions...and her evident tendency to people-please.

“...something’s off about this whole thing,” he offers.

"I feel the same, kind of. All of this just seems like it's a little too good to be true," she says, then takes a long drink of her water. "What are the odds of some random person turning up, out of nowhere, who's immune to the virus, and who also claims to not remember anything about who they are or where they came from? It's a little too convenient if you ask me...as much as I hope that it's actually true."

That’s the other thing bothering him. He takes another drag from his cigarette.

“Then again, unless they’re putting on a hell of an act, Sira doesn’t seem like they could tell a convincing lie to save their life, so they really might not remember anything,” Rani continues, “Plus, I don’t know what their angle would be. Surely getting an inside look into the CPC isn’t that valuable.”

Thinking about this too much is bound to make his headache worse because he can't come up with any alternative explanations behind it either that are plausible. Some of the factions on not-so-friendly terms with the CPC aren't above doing all manner of immoral things to someone in order to infiltrate their ranks as some sort of sleeper agent. That concept would explain Sira's apparent mental and physical state and the case of potentially genuine amnesia.

But that would also rely on those same factions figuring out a way to engineer or feign immunity to the mist. Which, to Sira's credit, is even less likely in odds than the story they've provided.

In fact, he would say it borders on being impossible. The CPC is the largest, most advanced organization of any group controlling territory in North America. They have the most resources and the most developed body of research into the virus. That's common knowledge and precisely the reason why the CPC possesses enemies in the first place. If anyone were to find a way to make someone immune, it would be them. They haven't done that, so no one has.

Mikael pushes those thoughts from his mind, and brings up the much less headache-inducing subject dominating his psyche: “The Director’s gonna tear them up.”

“That’s true.” Rani frowns, absently drumming her fingers against the plastic of the bottle in her hand. “If there’s anyone who can tell for sure if they’re lying or not, it’s her. I kinda feel sorry for them. Seems like they’ve been through a lot already, even discounting the phantoms, regardless of whoever they might really be.”

“Mmm.”

She leans her head back to meet his eye, studying his face again. He resists the urge to turn his head away to deny her the privilege. That could come off as weakness.

“...how much have you slept lately?”

Mikael’s jaw tightens, tasting the contents of his cigarette as his teeth dig into the end that’s inside of his mouth. Rani wasn’t usually bad to talk to. She was smart. All of them were smart in their own way, even Lionel, who acts like a dolt out of what he’s deduced as a bizarre choice he’s made in controlling others’ opinions of him. Rani, though, is also the only one who - aside from Karim - asks him about his problems.

“I’ve slept enough.” It comes out more snappy than he intends it to.

He doesn’t care.

“Fine, fine. I’ll leave you to brood here by yourself.” She lets out a dramatically long sigh as she stands up off the railing and stretches her arms above her head. “Just make sure to eat, alright? Don’t wanna end up sending you to the infirmary too because of your stubbornness.”

He grunts in acknowledgment, ignoring the playful jab at his behavior. He doesn't turn to look at her as she heads back inside their quarters and slides the door shut behind her, giving him some privacy. He gives her the benefit of the doubt in thinking that's what she meant by it, anyway, and not as an act of passive-aggression.

Small gestures like that, he can let himself appreciate a little. When he feels like it.

Mikael extinguishes the cigarette against the metal railing and bends down to take the plate she left outside. Unintelligible mush. He knows it’ll taste disgusting, but it’ll fill his stomach, and that bare minimum is all he ever looks for in a meal.

He glances inside the room through the glass panes of the door. Lionel is sat at one end of the couch, talking with his mouth full, while Rani sits at the other. Therese is splayed across it with her head in Rani's lap, hands wildly gesturing as she has some energetic conversation with Lionel. Rani doesn't look to be contributing much, but she's smiling warmly as she watches Therese, nothing in her eyes beyond fondness and a hint of exhaustion. Satisfied exhaustion.

Rani and Therese met before the four months they were all placed in their squad together, but the trio's dynamic is already familiar, like they've known each other for years, even when they get on each other's nerves.

Mikael watches the scene that might be heart-warming to others with indifference. He doesn't have that same connection with them. Or anyone. Lionel's mannerisms and habits annoy him too much. Therese is too soft for her own good and off in her own little world most of the time - plus, she goes out of her way to avoid being alone with him. He overheard her once say to Rani that being in his presence always felt 'oppressive,' which Rani didn't dispute it because there was nothing about it to be disputed. Rani wasn't bad to talk to, no, but that's all she was: a teammate, who outranked him and gave him orders, as well as an occasional conversation partner.

He didn’t want anything more. It’s not something he’s ever wanted in his life. That’s not how his mind works, and it’s not why he’s here. It would be a distraction at best.

Mikael turns back around to the view of F-6, leans his arms against the railing, and tentatively picks at the mushy food on his plate, watching the last bit of the sun sink beneath the horizon. Whatever will happen now, he can't wait for it to be over.

Perhaps he’ll get lucky and Sira will no longer be their responsibility at some point, but remembering what it is they’ve been training for, something tells him his lifelong pattern of bad luck will continue.