He shouldn't have got out of bed today. No, scratch that, he shouldn't have got out of bed yesterday. Because that's when all of this stupid chain of events had started. Something in the email had just rubbed him the wrong way, it was probably the same thing about this entire place that drove him crazy. There was no respect given, only expected and he struggled to respect someone who didn't respect him, it was that simple.
Some fucking crazy cheerleader emailing him about teams for a haircut had just been enough to make him snarky and once that had started it was hard to turn off. See Renko took the snarky, called him on it, but he didn't take it seriously and maybe that was the only reason they were getting along. He just didn't understand why they couldn't talk like equals, why everything had to be so damn orchestrated. Safety, yes, always with the safety, but what was wrong with just organizing an agent for every trainee and a way to get there and then going? Being told where to sit on a bus? Was that actually necessary or was he the only person to find that ridiculously excessive?
It was a shame, leaving the base probably would have been good for him, but he'd gone too far and not going had been the only choice.
At least Renko tolerated him. Although he felt like that would probably change and soon. Mike, his Mike was already busy with his fancy training, they didn't live together and he felt like what ever they'd had, what ever had been building there when they'd first arrived was just gone.
Now it was time for beer. He knocked on Eliot's door with a six pack and some mid level priced scotch, nothing to write home about but enough to maybe numb his head for a while. He needed to be numb. At least when every agent here wanted him to just disappear, Eliot would still be happy to see him, to knock him around and drink his beer.