Perhaps, then, the answer is that he was not seeking so much as dreading. The days grind by slowly and the wall between us grown so great I cannot see beyond it; he is a mystery to me now. Thing is, trapped here with only him as company has worn me down. How long until I can leave this room? How long until I get any information from the outside? Does it even matter? No one visits, no one talks to me. Truth be told it might just be good to accept my lot at this point. I am just… I am just tired. Maybe it is just time to give up. I have earned my place. It’s over.

As the days drag on I just do as I am told, a machine in body and heart. I just feel so heavy, the weight dragging down my every step, resisting any attempt to deviate from the path handed to me. What’s the point though? I don’t care and I don’t want to care. Life is pain, so I will just exist until something changes in me and I can breathe again, so to speak.

My thoughts, my very heart, grows harder as time groans on, but as my deepest self grows wearier a pounding anthem grows in my head. My track list claims to be off though? I am just flat out confused now but honestly the experience I have been having with music means that this does not really surprise me. I am starting to wonder if anything will surprise me again. Even those busy bodies have left me alone and, when I do dream, it’s only off a starless night sky and a frozen ocean. Someone is there with me but they do not seem to do anything. I spend my meaningless time building up my own walls, so that nothing can ever touch me…

And again, in my rare sleep, I see that motionless sea in the black, with the figure resting against slim, bushy, tree. I turn away from it and look at the unmoving ocean and sigh, falling to my knees.

“You are defective. Why though, youngling? Why do you come and go and go and come? The sea is frozen: you are growing old. You are barely you and here you come here to become us. Thus I say unto you the ultimate word: enough.” I turn from the unmoving ocean to look at the figure as he rests the all and only tree. “See, there is still hope, but you cannot come here again until the waters churn with the purged storm. A laser cuts through the fog and scatters on the silence. Here, then, is my final admonishment afore you find your way back here: hear the sounds of this world we dwell in, brass and timpani, and when you do, run to the forest and see the rabbit there; make your choice. The door will open again if you pick right.” I reach out my left hand but everything flew away with such speed as it stretched my shouted word so far away.

The morning comes as a woman’s voice sings goodbyes in my head. I can feel the crushing despair and know, from experience, that my renewed vigor can only last so long before I am dragged down into apathy again, but I will not let this chance pass me by. I am determined to fight my battle and win someone to help me fight the rest of the way. I slide out of bed with a deliberate lack of grace, thunking my feet on the ground with added force. Frank is sitting at his desk, working again. How long, ten days I think, have I watched him sitting there silently. No more of that. He jerks his head briefly, suppressing his urge to tell me to quiet down, even as I lumbered loudly towards him.

“You cannot ignore me forever Sergeant. We need to talk.” I speak directly and openly, but I cannot permit this situation to languish any longer. He just waves me off without looking me. “No. I am… I’m done being ignored by you. I will not be alone, no. I cannot fight for much longer without you, so you are going to listen to me.” I grab his left shoulder with my right hand, metal crashing on metal, and pull him up and spin him around to face me. He stands there and stares at me, body tense for a fight.

“You have no business touching me, Kel.” He is barely containing his anger but that means he cares about something.

“You have no business ignoring me, Frank.” I am not nearly as angry, but contained rage beats showing my fear. “We will do this together, whether you like it or not.”

“Do what? I failed to help Davis and expect to fail to help you. I need to save what I can out of this mess and I am sorry but you are not it.” He has not calmed down at all; is he really that angry or just that despondent

“Please, Frank. Listen. I can do this... with you. I can overcome this war, Kies, anything. I can, but not alone. If you give up on me, isn’t it like letting Kies win?” I am growing tired suddenly. That burst of energy is fading more quickly than I could have imagined, only my music, drums, strings, and rock, sustains me now. “This is the truth: the world we live is filled with dogmatic tyrants and perfidious scholars of deceit but we have our hands, and our hearts, to try to fight back: to make this world a world for everyone.”

He just looks at me oddly briefly. “That was some florid language Kel. Very over the top.” His body shudders with a sigh. “I’m just too tired to do this anymore. I know you want help but I am just too burnt out to do it.” For the first time I really see how tired he is, his shoulders slumped and knees barely able to sustain his weight; his machine body is struggling to do what his mind is no longer willing to. If he had humans eyes I doubt I could look into them.

“Frank, we both need help. We’re not gonna get it, are we?”

“No.”

“It did not seem so long ago you were helping me though. If no one else will help us, why don’t we help each other? Fight, together.” He just shakes his massive head and turns from me to sit down. I can see the pain in his body with every slow movement. “Frank. Don’t turn away. You have a family, right? We both want them to be happy. Let’s work together and give them a better future. Or die trying, I mean we are at war.” I put my hand on his shoulder and lean close to his head. “We can do it, so no one is forced like we were.”

His voice is a dry and meek whisper, “Dirty trick, talking about them. Nothing we can do.”

“Try, Frank. Fight, suffer, and try again.” My own voice has become quiet as well, a complement to his.

“You’ve gotten bold.”

“I am sure it’ll be gone by tomorrow Frank, unless we fan the flames together.” I draw my head as close to his as I dare, my body near draped on his.

“Fine. If it means I can have a few moment by myself then fine: I will help you.” The tiredness, the weakness, is still caught up in his voice but it is forward motion at all. I will take my victory.

“If you need anything Frank, let me know, alright? We are in this together now.” He gives me an odd look, something I feel like I should recognize.

“Tomorrow, Kel. I will need your help tomorrow. Be ready.”

“I slept and am tired already. I am going to just walk around the ship for a bit, shower maybe. How does... did Davis do it?” The question hitches a second. I straighten up, trying to look bolder. It is getting easier with practice but Frank is one of the only people I do not even dream of trying to fool. His response is to just ignore me. I screwed up hard; I need to be more self sufficient right now. It’s… I don’t know. I feel like I am on the verge of something important but I cannot place my finger on it.

No music either. You know, I say to no one in particular, that is kind of nice. No one is mucking around in my head or anything. It is finally just me in my own mind. My broken, messed up mind. I shake away the thought and slip outside the door. The hallway is quiet and dark, peaceful even, if the groaning belly of a war machine can really be called peaceful. Maybe it is an irony thing I guess? I am not particularly good at language honestly and I expect without anyone mucking my mind anymore that fact is not going to change anytime soon. I sit down on the floor next to my door. I sit down next to the door to my friendly little prison, neither wanting to go nor being permitted anyways, and rest. I flit through my music, find a song I want to listen to, something with a solid down beat at minimum I think, metal for a metal monster in the metal belly of a metal beast, and just bob my head, each nod a violent acknowledgment of the music of the power of the music I am listening to. It is nice, honestly, to finally be me again, for even a second. So many people in my head, using my body, even touching my heart. I want to be angry but right now I just let the rage wash over me in the waves of the music. I am here; I am me; I am alive. I cannot fix everything or even begin to understand what has happened to me, but right now I am just going to sit and just be.

I keep my head bobbing, one powerful song after another, when a beep comes up on my screen. It is Frank, asking me where I am and reminding me that I was told not to be alone. I just respond by reaching my right arm and knocking on the steel door beside me. He slides it open and looks down at me but I just keep bobbing my head. “Really?” He asks. “Did you really walk out and sit down here? What and why? At least you did not run off for once.” His words would normally chastise me more, but I am not going to care for the next few minutes. “What are you doing anyways?”

“Music.” Terse. I don’t want to talk.

He uses his body to shove me over and sits next to me. “Share, please?”

I flit over to a less heady song, something passionate and uplifting but still with a good beat. Worse for dancing, still good for healing and better at not hurting, so I like it. Connection sent and accepted and we listen, sitting next to each other, bobbing our heads in unison as we just exist in sound. I have never truly felt closer to anyone before actually. Two men, in strife and pain, chilling next to each; I feel odd for a moment but ignore it. I just need to relax and stay focused for a bit and just actually get some good hanging-out-friend time. Not the best in the vast universe, but good regardless. I will have to take what I can get right now and do more work when I know a more about myself and him. That is later though, right now I just sit next to my friend and listen until work calls us away again.