⚔︎All Of These Things Made Me Who I Am⚔︎
That was exactly what he did, once he matured a little more, he began taking training more seriously. Staying after everyone else and not stopping at a skill until he had it perfected. All while fighting alongside everyone on missions, and dealing with the higher-ups wanting to flaunt him and fly him around like some object.
Through having to deal with the hardships of serious missions, being objectified as a machine, and even having the man who taught him everything, and the one who stole his heart walk out on him.
Even when he was for sure that he was to be kicked out, he had been promoted. While the pressure nearly crushed him, still Conner stayed.
Hardships, heartbreak, pressure, pain, mental, and physical exhaustion. Conner had never once walked out of the base for longer than an hour.
First, it was determination, then it was out of the good of his heart. Now, he didn't know why anymore. Feeling as if he had lost himself too much that if he were to walk out, he wouldn't know what to do with himself.
Thinking back on how he used to be, everything had changed. He was so young, lost, and confused. Feeling alone and as if everyone was against him, to get frustrated from him blowing a gasket and then walking away from him. It shifted at first when he joined the CIA.
Dealing with meeting a man who took no shit from anyone. If he got angry he didn't care who saw it and what they would do about it. That was something Conner caught himself paying close attention to, and in time he grew to become like that himself. There had even been a hidden beacon that Conner was lucky enough to find right away when joining.
A young agent only one age group up from his own. Someone Conner instantly gravitated to and didn't want to pull apart from. He became his best friend and then stole his heart right from under him. It hurt his heart when he figured out that they treated him badly as well.
Damian was set up to be some decoy, to pretend to be friends with Conner, then turn around and hurt him. So much so that Conner would lose it and try to attack Damian.
Making him experience the full momentum of his temper and 'report back' on it. So they could create some steroid to make it stronger for missions.
That never happened as Damian's feelings were genuine and after meeting Conner he liked him so much that he went behind their back and told him everything.
Conner had lived through discovering the truth of their intentions with him. Learning and having to kill for the first time and believe he was becoming what they wanted him to become. Living through Jones cracking and aiming a loaded gun right to his head and shoot him down, because he didn't do it first.
Waking up one morning to find the base go haywire because Baker finally walked out. Having his heart ripped out as he watched the love of his life walk away without him. Going through a rage fit to where he fought anyone in his way including the other agents.
Having them walk out, if they lived, and him getting called in and promoted to Director of Agents. Now, having his days numbered before new young agents were to come. To join the CIA and be under Conner's care. Even though he wasn't that much older and he didn't want to do it.
In all honesty, all Conner wanted to do was to go home, but he felt like he didn't know where that was anymore. Afraid they would go against their own word and take his memory of the last five years anyway. It was a scary thought, but it crept up in the back of his mind that he didn't care if they did.
If they were to actually take away his memory, meaning that he would completely forget this part of himself. Thinking that maybe then he'd feel better, and wouldn't have to feel the way he did anymore. Forgetting the CIA, but also it meant forgetting Damian, Baker, and all of the things he learned.
Not to mention five whole years of his life would be missing, and the confusion might trigger his temper and make it worse. He shouldn't be thinking about that at all, but he would be lying through his teeth if he said that it didn't come to mind now and again.
The days were coming quick and before he knew it, there were only three days until the agents were to be arriving. It was driving Conner nuts and he had no idea how to even wrap his head around any of that.
Going through the copies of the profiles before him, he skimming over them for the twentieth time. Marking everything down, feeling his wrist cramp up. Huffing out Conner grew frustrated and shoved the papers off of his desk.
Leaning his elbows on the edge and placing his face into his hand. Yelling into his hands he groaned and shook his head. Dropping his hands and taking off his glasses. Setting them aside he leaned back in his chair and exhaled out a long breath.
"I can't do this! How the fuck am I supposed t'do this shit!"
Bellowing out to himself in his large, yet still empty office. He shook his head and spun around in his chair. Looking out of the windows and watching the city around him. Still wishing he was out there in the world, instead of cooped up in his office, losing his mind over agents that were arriving in less than 72 hours.
Sighing longly he heard his intercom go off and he turned his chair back around to face forward. Clicking onto the intercom and listening to the message.
'Director McAlister to the gym.'
Rolling his eyes, he rolled the chair back a bit and pushed himself up onto his feet. Crossing over to the door and stepping out of his office, over to the elevator and pressing for the floor to the gym of the base.
Riding the lift all the way down, he exited as the doors slid open and down the hall to the training room. Pushing the heavy double-doors open he went through the training room and over to the gym. The doors were open and he looked around. Finding four out of five of the Executives standing and waiting for his arrival.
Always finding it creepy when they did that. He shook that off and went on.
Letting out as he crossed his arms and looked over to his higher-ups with a stern look in his eye.
"Get changed into these."
One of then said as she held out a pair of shorts to Conner. He eyed the shorts a moment, furrowed his brow and looked back up to her.
"It's your fitness evaluation. You remember doing one as an agent, you have to as a Director as well. Get changed."
Reaching out, he roughly took the shorts and walked over to the locker rooms and changed. Removing his sport-coat, dress shirt, and undershirt.
As well as his suit pants, and then he pulled up the shorts. Conner reached up to his neck and unlatched his chain from his neck as well and put it in his pants' pocket.
Placing on the tennis shoes that were also left for him, he tied them uptight and stepped back out. Looking over once again his brows furrowed.
"Ay, whoa, whoa, hey, I distinctively 'member there not bein' any type of monitors. What is this?"
"This is something uh... new that we're testing out."
Conner scoffed but for some odd reason didn't have it in him to really argue. So he just went with it, rolling his eyes and allowing them to hook him up. Having each tracker stuck to his temples, pectorals, biceps, thighs, and calves.
Looking as if he had stepped right out a sci-fi movie. Stepping onto the treadmill, they hooked a breathing tracker over his head and he held it in his mouth.
It felt nothing like it would have at the doctors. This was CIA technology, meaning they tracked every fiber and nerve ending. Conner felt stiff, sticky, and the cords pulled. He didn't have to do this at all the first time around, he knew what they probably were really doing.
To track his movements and then maybe try to get him to lose control so they could track that as well. Lucky for him he didn't feel like he had the energy to have his temper flare-up.
Pressing the start on the treadmill he shook his head and pushed out a sigh. Then he began running. Hearing everything beep as he did so. Shaking that off he just continued to run. He tried to get lost in it like he usually did and have his mind wander, but he couldn't.
Hearing everything beep and the stickers pulling at his skin making everything uncomfortable. So he just kept his focus forward and kept running. Picking up speed and moving the speed up, he ran until he caught himself running as fast as he could. The usual speed on the treadmill, he then pushed himself to go even faster than that.
Hearing the monitors' beep faster and faster the more he pushed himself. He didn't really pay attention to it at that point. Still finding a way to get lost in all of it, he just ran. Not slowing down at all, he just kept running. Faster and faster, until he felt himself begin to slip. Then he slowed his pace back to his old 'record' and then down to a walk before stopping completely.
Feeling a shot of air he breathed it in and placed his hand on the top of his head. Looking over and seeing his heart-rate being recorded and how fast yet steady it was going.
Reaching up he took off the mask and set that down. Still hooked up, they lead him over to the barbell bench. There Conner sat down and then laid back, grabbing hold of the barbell once he was spotted. He lifted for a while, as well as hit the heavy bag, lifted hand, and leg weights, and just about everything that he had to do before. The only difference, other than being faster and stronger, as he was being measured and monitored for literally every move he made.
It was annoying and felt degrading, but he did it regardless and not once did he lose any control. Knowing very well that was what they wanted. They didn't know that was what he knew, so he did all that he could so their twisted little plan wouldn't commence.
Once the evaluation was over, Conner unhooked everything from his person and headed back into the locker room and grabbed his clothes. Holding them he crossed through the training room and then all the way back to the elevator.
Hitting the floor for his room and rode the lift up. When the doors open he rushed over to his room and slammed the door behind him. Dropping his clothes to the floor and falling onto the bed. Screaming into his bedding. Having his face buried for a few moments longer he slowly rose his face back up. Moving his palms to his sides he pushed himself up and rolled out of bed.
Narrowing his eyes, he shook his head and went over to his wardrobe, taking out a zip-up hoodie and throwing that on over his bare torso.
Conner rushed over to his door and went back out. Glancing at one of the clocks on the wall and catching the time. Taking a moment to think he ran over to the stairs and sprinted right up to them to the floor above and rushed to the Executive's office on the opposite end of the hall of his office.
Going over to the door and taking out his badge, scanning it and unlocking the door. Opening it up with one swift motion he looked around and went to the main desk again. Running over to it, he looked over and a half-smile appeared on his face.
There it was, exactly what he was looking for. Once again taking the folder and opening it to look inside. Seeing the monitors and charting of his physical health. A little thrown off on how honestly impressive it had seemed. Behind that, he saw his old sheet from five years ago.
He had improved a massive amount and seeing his heart rate became faster and his muscles grew tenser. Just as he figured his temper and all over aggression became much worse since joining the CIA. However, that could happen to anyone after joining the CIA and being there for years.
A smaller piece of paper had fallen to the floor and Conner caught sight of it, kneeled down and picked it up. Reading it, there was a website on it, lightly furrowing his brows. He stood back upright and closed the folder. Taking it with him and leaving the office.
All of this was really irritating to Conner, but he felt the need to do it, the risks were way too high to even think about what /might/ happen. So he rolled his eyes and went down to the IT office area. Once again scanning his badge and going right in.
Going over to the main computer and booting it up. Not really bothering to sit. He logged right in, on his own name and typed on the website. Large eyes grew wide as he read the screen. There it was just as he guessed it. The plans on whatever the hell they were wanting to do with his temper.
Shaking his head to took the mouse and clicked on the text. Highlighting it all and with zero hesitation, he hit delete. As well as doing the Control, Alt., Delete and getting rid of the page altogether. Breathing out, he looked over at the time and shook his head. With that he had left the IT office, still having hold of his folder as he made it back to the top floor.
Going to his office and shoving the folder into a drawer and locking it. Then leaving the office and locking the door behind himself.
The night's sleep Conner had was anything but restful. As much as he wanted to he couldn't shut up his mind for a moment. Time was still running out before the agents came and Conner wasn't in any state of mind to start and take on that much responsibility. Not after finding out and trying to stop the higher-ups from perfecting their little 'experiment' on what they wanted to do with his already destructive overbearing temper.
Upon waking up he went to the bathroom, showered and got himself dressed again. In something a little more casual than usual. However, still designer, a pair of maroon Calvin Klein jeans, a black long-sleeved shirt that buttoned halfway down, and sneakers.
Placing his glasses on his face he fixated at his curls and left the bathroom. Making it up to his office and as always, locking the door behind himself. Taking out the file of his physical evaluation again, he opened it back up and looked through. Hearing a ping go off at his computer his eyes shot up and he set the file aside.
Clicking open the notification, it was an email from the CEO of the New York base. Blinking Conner read as she said how proud she was of him, he never met her in person. So all he did was roll his eyes and closed it. Pulling back up the agents' profiles he skimmed through them again.
An odd feeling came about him as one of them caught his eye. Clicking on it he looked at the name and then the picture. For some reason, he caught Conner's attention. Probably because he looked like a kid that didn't really deserve to be recruited. Much like Conner did those years ago. He wasn't even from the States and had been roped into all of this, seeing the look on his face.
Conner started to feel bad about checking 'yes' on him. Heaving out a long sigh he clicked out of the profiles and closed his folder as well. Placing it back into his drawer and locking it again. Sitting still at his desk a moment his eyes scanned the wooden finish of the large desk, then down to the floor and to his shoes.
Suddenly getting that 'not himself' feeling all over again. None of it really was, he wasn't any 'man in charge' and he still referred to himself as a kid. Not at all anyone who would be able to train kids into bloodthirsty agents.
He never became that way and wasn't going to do that to them. He didn't want to train them at all, he didn't want to be there at all. Conner felt so lost and stuck not sure what to do or how to feel about any of it. Looking back up he pushed himself back to his feet, going over and out of his office. Walking over to the back stairs and heading up them.
Stomping slowly up the concrete stairs that lead up to the rooftop of the building.
Conner hadn't been on the rooftop since his massive rage fit after Damian had left him. All he remembered from that day was shooting anything and almost anyone in sight, throwing people in all directions and seeing nothing but red.
Pushing out a frustrated sigh as he remembered that much he shook his head and walked to the middle of the rooftop. Inhaling a large long breath and screaming out into the air. At the top of his lungs, he screamed on top of the CIA base, so much so he felt his body fall forward a bit and shake.
Inhaling again sharply he stood back upright and grabbed a loose pole. Spinning his whole body around he swung and chucked the thing as far as he possibly could. Flying right off of the rooftop to who even knows where.
'Shit' he mumbled between his teeth and coughed. His chest burning from the scream, but at the same time, he felt more lifted. So he didn't regret it too much. Shaking his head he turned around and headed back down the stairs and into the base again. Not being seen out of his room again for a little while.
"Sir Director McAlister. It's time to get ready, the agents are arriving in a couple of hours."
The time had come right before Conner's eyes, whether he was ready or not.
Raising a hand he waved for the assistant to go back to whatever they were doing and leave his room. The only rare instance where he left his door unlocked for once. Shoving the covers off of him he rolled over and sat up. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and stifling out a yawn.
Clenching his fists and then letting go to release out some tension before slowly getting out of bed.
Clearing his throat he walked over to his closet and picked out a wine-colored suit jacket and black pants. Pairing those with a mauve collared shirt underneath. Putting everything on he placed on his Tom Ford shoes and silver Rolex watch.
Doing his hair as best as he could and then breathing out a long-winded sigh. Looking at his reflection in his dresser's mirror and rolling his eyes.
Eyes going hard and stern, there was no turning back now. The agents were on their way and he knew the Executives' full intentions. He couldn't allow another kid to get eaten alive. He knew he was strong enough to hold them back, but couldn't say the same to any of the other kids. So it was a giant risk he was going to have to take.
Hearing a knock on his door he shook his head and pushed out another breath with a trill of his lips.
"Hold your shorts I'm comin'!"
Punching his palm with his opposite hand he moved over and out of his room he went. Following the rest over to the Executive's office on the top floor of the base. Heading on up he felt his heartbeat pick up, and before he knew it the doors were opening and the agents were piling in. Not at all at the same time, still, that felt more nerve-wracking. Furrowing his brows a bit he stood off to the side and crossed his arms.
Looking down to the floor and then back up again. Watching as the agents came in and lined up with their backs facing the wall on the opposite side of the room. Having a double-take, Conner looked over and spotted that kid again. Seeing he was much taller in person. Once again having the look of innocence and as of he didn't deserve to be there.
Of course, Conner knew that look personally, he had the same one when he first arrived. Catching himself looking a little too long he quickly looked away and over as one of the higher-ups spoke out. Every now and then Conner glanced over to the kid. He had no idea why he kept doing it, but couldn't really help himself either.
Snapping out of it again he moved over to the middle of the room in front of the table and dropped his arms to his sides. Actually feeling himself become nervous, much like it was his first day all over again. Seeing the fresh-faced agents reminded him of himself. Mostly the kid he caught himself looking at again. Still unsure why he was doing that he shook it off once he heard the higher-up again.
Listening to her speak out so highly of him. All of that was making him feel that much worse, but he shoved it down and acted as if he was stern and knew what he was doing. Even though he still had no idea.
Everything right then flooded through him at once. His fake interview, him getting recruited, his first day there, meeting Jones, then Baker, then Damian.
Learning the truth, avoiding Jones, listening to Baker, and staying close to Damian. Becoming Damian's best friend, staying late at night and training over time. Saving Baker, having Jones point a gun to his head, falling in love with Damian. Damian going behind his back to save him, waking up to Baker leaving, having his heart ripped out by Damian walking out.
Getting promoted, Conner walking out himself, having Baker talk with him, picking out the agents, finding out more truth.
All of it, everything made Conner who he was right then. It was so much and it all was the hardest of things he had to ever go through. But, he did it all and there he was standing before new agents.
Remembering when that was him and how he used to be. How nervous he was and scared and confused. Immature and wanting to prove everyone wrong by being some strong uncontrollable force, but he learned better. Now, it was up to him to teach right from wrong and how to be a good agent.
Heaving out a long sigh Conner stepped forward and had to speak out. Standing firm he crossed his arms again, still having a hard stern look in his eyes. Breathing in and speaking out in a clear tone of voice.
"Welcome agents. I'm Mr. Conner McAlister, an' I'm your Director."
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