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[gagesteele]

Jake Gyllenhaal in Prisoners [2013]

[gagesteele]

The answers Gage was looking for had to be somewhere in this building. But it would be quite the task to attempt to find one journal in this mess. The after effects of the fire was obvious. There was little organization that Gage could find to the books on the shelves and his mind had always been quick to pick up on any present patterns. This would make his job that much harder, especially when he wanted to remain undetected. He felt his frustration beginning to grow and he could not let his emotions take over, not now when he was so close to his truths. But that his years of wondering came down to such a tedious task was disheartening. He could not afford to let his emotions rule here, however, and he compartmentalized them as well as he was able. He’d always attempted to be a logical man, yet he was also a desperate one and that was made ever clear in this moment where he was treating the journals he ran across with a distinguished lack of care once he noted they weren’t what he was looking for.

If he had the opportunity to spend all the time that he wanted in the repository, he might spend more time going through each of the journals, pouring over them for all the information that he could possibly gather on the Blue Bloods. Knowledge was power and power was something that the Blue Bloods had far too much of. And that was something that Gage was always meaning to change. He wanted to strip them of their power and give it back to humans, even the tables. But today was not that day. His father’s work took precedence over anything. His father would lead the way, set a path in front of him that he could start walking on to finish his mission, of that he was confident. But what hope did he have in finding the journal on his own when he knew nothing of the repository? He lifted his head from his digging when he noted movement in the next aisle, spotting a girl through the spaces of the journals. There was no hiding from her in that moment. Nor did he speak out, however, when he noted her headphones. She was human; surely she could be of assistance to him?

digging | gage & kinsie

Kinsie was not too mad that she had to leave the Spring Awakening early. She had only been there for about half an hour before her shift at work began. She knew she could go back– and probably would go back later, but now she was at work. Kinsie didn’t mind though. She liked work. Work was some way was almost calming. But she also felt disposable in her positing. She felt like she meant nothing to the Blue Bloods. Kinsie would stop at nothing to prove that she was worth something more than just a little girl who had fallen in love with the wrong person and gotten someone killed. In her mind, she was worth everything. In her mind, she was better than a lot of people that worked in the repository. But here she was, sitting at work, waiting for her shift to end so that she could join the festivities at Hyde Park before they were over. 

The raven haired girl looked at the pile of papers on the desk. It was time to get working. Rebuilding the repository was going to take a long time, she knew. It wasn’t going to happen over night. Due to the new repository being almost empty, whatever the blue bloods had left was important. Kinsie’s job was now to organize what they did have. She and the others had spent hours, a lot of time working overtime to get things back in order. She liked the work, what she didn’t like was that it was taking so long. She was a here and now sort of person. She needed things to happen right that instant, and when they didn���t Kinsie tended to get bored easily. Not to say that the journals were not important. Not to say that what she was doing was boring. But the mundane tasks were something that she was eager to finish. 

The building was eerily empty. Kinsie needed music or something to keep her awake. She would prefer company, but honestly, she didn’t know who to call. Besides, she’d her work done quicker if she was the only one there. Since she was the only one around, Kinsie didn’t bother putting her headphones on to listen to her music. It made it seem a little more welcome. The area seemed less creepy, less haunted, less sad with her music. Kinsie only had about an hours and a half left of her shift before she could go and join the festivities. The young adult danced around, putting items where they belonged, making mental notes to do things tomorrow at work, and of course logging what needed to be logged.

[gagesteele]

[gagesteele]

digging | gage & kinsie

Sneaking into the blood bank took no effort on Gage’s part. He was highly intelligent and could have used his brain for bad if he had had the motive to go along with it. He possessed a mastermind, and he was putting that to use in this urgent situation. There was no time for delay, not in this. His father’s written words played out in his mind in what little he could remember of his father’s voice. It was almost beyond recognition, such a faded memory now, and it was as if the words were but a whisper as a result. Fitting due to the secretive nature of the content that the letter had revealed to him. His body was still chalk full of adrenaline, his mind a machine who’s cogs were turning at an accelerating rate. What could the journals reveal to him, what secret was so VITAL that the Blue Bloods had to get their hands on it. 

                                Two can keep a secret                                                        if one of them is DEAD.

His father may be gone, but Gage had always intended to live in his footsteps, as faded as those footsteps may be, so shadowed in mystery before this. It had left Gage to wander about with nothing to go off of and had left him grasping at straws. Answers had been without of his reach and though he had told this to himself before, he couldn’t help but think this was it. The breakthrough he needed. The answers would be within his hands soon. Opening up the room of the repository, he could only hope that what he was looking for hadn’t gone down in smoke when the fire had occurred in the building. He couldn’t afford such thoughts. He couldn’t lose this opportunity just when he had been given it. 

Despite knowing of angels, Gage hadn’t ever put much stock into fate. A highly logical man, however, he knew that there had to be some higher power that was obviously at work. And perhaps all that had happened to him previously was leading up to this. Perhaps he hadn’t known of this before because he wouldn't have known what to make of the information. He had to believe in that, if anything, if ever he were to believe in anything. Sneaking into the first row of journals in the archive, he began to hastily thumb through them in his desperate search.

[gagesteele]

                                                          { what is he? }

                                               a          l o n e l y          s o u l                                                searching    for    memories                                                long                          forgotten

                                               an            empty             shell                                                in a     d e c a y i n g     world                                                looking for something more

                                               a    p   a   s   s   e   n   g   e   r                                                on                 a                 plane                                                that    will    never    take    off

                                               a           hollow           skeleton                                                with   bones    made   out   of                                                rotting                         stardust

                                                a mind made up of galaxies                                                hidden    behind    a     mask                                                of   death    and    destruction

[gagesteele]

The whispered murmurs around Gage were but white noise as his eyes fixated one one of the screens along with all the other attendees at the park. He was quick to recognize the girl as a Blue Blood and he knew that, clearly, for once the Angels themselves were even left flabbergasted. His eyes were quick to find a few of them, and judging by the looks on their faces, they were terrified.  Gage was a doctor and had seen more gruesome scenes, and since it was a Blue Blood that was being held captive, he couldn’t find it in him to panic about it. And it seemed like some of the humans were actually believing the tale that this was a movie trailer. Sometimes, he had to question the intelligence of the human race. Cupping his sister’s shoulder, he leaned forward and told her that he would be needing to duck out early, not offering much in the way of explanation. He trusted that Helen would be fine on her own. She often was in social situations. Kissing her on the cheek, he waved himself off and headed in a fast pace towards his home.

Something about tonight had adrenaline rushing through his veins. Why were the Blue Bloods so worried? What was in the works that could even be bigger than them? And what could it all mean for his research into the Blue Bloods, his ultimate desire to find an anti-cure to their immortality. Whoever was behind that video was clearly threatening the Blue Bloods, but why would they be concerned if they couldn’t be killed? There had to be something there, perhaps something that could lead to a breakthrough for him. Or so Gage could only hope.

Regardless, the Blue Bloods would clearly be occupied with this until they got the girl back. And if it continue to remain a public display, Gage would be aware of the progression. For now, the Blue Bloods would not have time to keep an eye on Gage, creating a far less risk for him to do some snooping. But before he could go to the blood bank, he needed to gather his papers. Ones that he kept hidden in the bookcase of his home office.

His hands were trembling with a newfound energy and hope as he meticulously poured over his research once more once he was in his study, pacing around the room as he read over them again. There had to be something there. The moonlight glinting through the curtains was the only light illuminating the room as he sat hunched over his desk, fingers curling as he fought the urge to crumple the papers and toss them into the fire after he finished what had to be his hundredth read through by now.

What was he missing?

He felt something was amiss. Could feel it thrumming in his bones, as if it was a very part of his being. There was a hole there that needed to be filled, questions that demanded answers if he were to ever hope to find peace with himself. If only he were smarter, if only he were more capable. If only he could find the answers to the secrets of the Blue Bloods, if only he could save his sister. 

Helen...what would he do, ultimately, if her life could not be saved? He had spent his entire life devoted to becoming a doctor, one that his father could have been proud of. He had poured over medical books and journals while others were spending time with their families, something that he did not have until he had found his sister again. But sometimes he wondered if finding her was the right decision for her. She was growing weaker by the day, something was killing her and he didn’t know what. The only thing Gage could do for her was find a cure. That was all he saw himself capable of when it came to being a good brother. He wasn’t good at the rest of it, at advice or hanging out or being emotional support. All he knew was knowledge, biology, medicine, and what good was it doing him?

He was a failure as a brother. And as a son. His father would be ashamed. 

Shoulders heavy, Gage set down his research and stood once more, thumbing through the books of his library until he came across a dusty folder. Taking it out, he leaned his back against his bookcase, eyes glazed over with self-deprecation, mouth curled into a torn, disturbed expression. He was not at all the man his father was. 

Opening his father’s will, one of the few possessions that the foster system had left him with, he was overtaken by dread of his sister also leaving him. She may be accepting of her fate, but Gage could not find peace with it. Fate, if such a thing existed, was a cruel master if it were to strike her from this world so soon. 

Eyebrows furrowing, Gage lifted up an envelope that was sealed, clearly aged by the browning color of the parchment. Written in a messy sprawl was his name. He had never seen this before. Had the social workers kept this from him? His fingertips danced over the letters of his name and he was careful opening the envelope, unfolding the paper inside. As he began to read the letter, his heart raced and his head pounded loudly. 

It was a letter from his father, specifically written for Gage’s eyes. And the contents inside were almost beyond his imagination. His father, Gregor III, detailed his own experiences with the Blue Bloods who were as much aware of his existence as he had been of theirs. Just as his father before him and his grandfather had also known about them and divulged the information about their existence through the generations. The Blue Bloods, Gregor III wrote in an ink that was decades faded almost to the point of illegibility, had almost costed him his medical license. And that he would not be surprised if they came for more than that. My dear son, these beings have already gone as far as stealing our family’s journals, my father and his father’s life work. My life work. One that I have always intended for you to continue on as part of the Steele legacy. These journals are meant to be yours. And if you are reading this, then I am gone and you need to find them. When the Earth turns to dust, I’ll be damned if those journals are not where they belong: in the hands of a Steele. 

The letter went on, and Gage’s legs collapsed under the weight of this new information and he found himself sitting on the floor, gripping the letter so tightly that his knuckles were a ghost white. He did not let himself dwell on anger for too long, for being too caught up on how he could have used this information years ago would do him no good now. He had been presented with this opportunity. And it was as if his father had heard him and given him the chance to prove himself worthy of being his son yet. 

The Blue Bloods were so caught up in their own game. They had likely believed that Gage would never learn of these journals and that, surely, he would never go looking for them if he did. But he was not owned by the Blue Bloods. They may have caused him to stain his hands with their dirty work, but he was his own man. A Steele man. One that was on a mission. 

Throwing his jacket over his arms, he set the letter down on his desk and left the house in as much of a hurry as he had arrived. He would waste no time waiting until daylight. 

He was going to the repository tonight. 

[gagesteele]

nightcrawler portraits

[gagesteele]

Gage turned at the sound of the voice, eyeing the blue blood with a cross between suspicion and slight irritation. Luke, that was the human name of this one. They were all rather different, the blue bloods, in personality and appearance, yet they all were the same ultimately. All of them lived off human blood, all of them must have done something rather heinous to be cast down from wherever they came from. Gage had never been a religious man, but the truth of the blue bloods had him reevaluating all of that for necessity, in the name of logic. 

He had little opinion on Luke, though his instincts always told him to be weary of blue bloods. This one in particular, however, sent off more warning signs than ones like Michael or Maeve. And he always trusted his instincts, because not even they were based on his heart, but instead his mind, a matter of logic. None of the blue bloods could be inherently trusted, this one included. He flicked his gaze to the flock of birds that flew overhead, nodding. 

He wasn’t about to share his inner thoughts with this man. Or anyone. Not even Helen was granted that privilege, for he knew that she would not likely approve of them. No, Gage kept to himself. It was safer that way. 

“With your kind around, there is always something to think about,” Gage supplied lowly. He stuffed his hands into the jackets of his pocket and angled his body slightly towards Luke, yet slightly away as well, as if to guard himself. Never could be too cautious. 

“Especially with the recent happenings, I do not think I can be blamed for being introspective, considering the mysteries that you all have laid at the feet of humans.” Many were scrambling for answers or accepting whatever ones they could find because they too knew that what was happening had little explanation that they could comprehend. “Yet again, your kind has caused catastrophe.” Though he imagined that Luke cared little about all of that. 

Aamon, despite what plenty thought, did not claim to know the world. He didn’t claim to know destiny, either; no, he spoke of it like the mystery it was, fickle and relentless. For his grandiose speeches, most depended upon guesses and observations rather than immediate belief of what was fact and what was not. 

But he had opinions; acknowledging he didn’t know everything never correlated with a lack of back-handed compliments and grating judgements. 

And his opinion on Gage Steele was MIXED.

He didn’t think their paths would ever cross outside of the hospital (and even there, it was more passing glances than actual conversation), but when he saw him crossing the street, Aamon felt the urge to follow. It wasn’t that he needed to talk to the human, it was just —

He couldn’t exactly determine who Gage was as a person, and that bothered him. He wasn’t one to blindly trust and place faith in people. And he wasn’t inclined on blindly trusting a human to the secret of their existence.

But Destiny placed them in the same vicinity, and it was pushing him right then. And Aamon wouldn’t ignore it. 

So he followed (sensing the irony in doing so as he resisted the urge to look over his shoulder), and stopped a few lengths away to gauge what the man was doing.

       ( odd, odd, odd                                   though you’re not one to talk )

“I’m thinking they want some food there.”

But as soon as he said something, the birds scattered, abandoning the setting too easily. He watched them for a few moments, letting the image of them flying against the painted sky settle in his mind. And then he turned his attention to Gage, head tilted and a faint smirk on his face.

“You look lost in thought, Gage – more so than when I normally see you.”

[gagesteele]

[gagesteele]

[gagesteele]

Thirty one and he already had hypertension. It was all the stress and pressure that he put on himself, Gage knew. His body was full of aches and pains, his blood circulation was shot and he was cold all the time, definitely long term stress. Drawing his jacket closer to him, he continued his walk home. In the busy streets of London, he saw little point in driving his car everywhere. He owned one, for those rare and far between days where he let himself have a day off or for emergency, but he preferred walking. Didn’t even care much for taxis. It had been another long day at the office, but he knew he needed to get some rest. He’d be little good to anyone if his mind didn’t stay in top form. Though he always managed to bring it right to the brink before doing anything about it. 

Stopping at a crosswalk, he stuffed a hand in his pocket, rifling through it until he found what he was looking for. Taking out his pack of cigarettes, he brought one to his mouth hand used his free hand to rummage around for his lighter. Hypocritical, he supposed, for a doctor to smoke but Gage needed something to keep the edge off. He often went without eating, too, and tobacco kept him both alert and ebbed his appetite, so it was a go-to method for him when he needed a hit of something. He was smart enough to not be addicted, but he knew that using cigarettes as a crutch and stress reliever wasn’t much better. It helped him with his social anxieties, too, since being in these kind of crowds always left him feeling suffocated.

Unable to find what he was looking for, he cursed under his breath. Had he left it in his other jacket? Or perhaps even in his lab coat? That would be just Gage’s luck. As he continued to fumble around in his pockets, he heard a soft voice next to him and as he glanced to the other side first, he figured the person must be talking to him. The voice was familiar enough too that it didn’t startle him. Knitting his brows together as he turned his head, Gage’s blue eyes widened as he noted who the person was. Another mystery, a medical anomaly, yet that wasn’t how Gage saw her, not primarily. No, instead, Ophelia was regarded by him as one of the few people that he could hold a decent conversation with.

“Miss De Clare.” He took the cigarette out of his mouth in a hurry, stuffing it back into his pocket unlit. “Fancy running into you here.” His voice was its usual low gravelly tone, but there was a softness there too that was rare for him. He was usually monotone, clinical, analytical, yet those guards were down with Ophelia. He cleared his throat, shaking off the suddenness of the encounter. “Now, where did you say you were needing to go again?”

          It most likely wasn’t the smartest of her ideas, especially considering the horrific atrocities which had occurred lately in London, to just stand in the middle of the street. It left her quite vulnerable and, as Selene had once described, “far too easy to take advantage of”. Ophelia, however, wasn’t aware of this at the moment. The pair of brown eyes was too focused on holding a paper in her hand and reading one line of the text it contained over and over again.

          22 Cortayne Road. That was the address she was supposed to be in a couple of days; that was the location of the nursery where she was supposed to start as a nursery assistant. The problem was, however, that she had absolutely no idea where that particular street was. It was somewhere in London, she had been told, but they had failed to be any more specific than that. She wasn’t angry at them. After all, it had been months since her return to the normal life, so it was only natural for them to assume she had already grown accustomed to everything ( which wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t a full truth either ). If only Selene was here, she thought. The woman would surely know where the place was.

          But she wasn’t here right now, and Ophelia didn’t want to bother her over something this insignificant. She would survive ( she always did ), even this challenge would be slightly more difficult, considering her unfortunate lack of knowledge about present day’s technology. At that thought, Ophelia raised her head and looked around for a second. It was a faint attempt to spot a familiar face—the probability of noticing a familiar face in the central London, especially during the busier hours, was near to zero. So now that she thought about it, maybe it was just better to approach the first person who didn’t look too busy and hope they were benevolent enough to help her.

          She shoved the piece of paper back into her bag and observed her surroundings for another moment before her gaze landed on the person standing nearby, their back towards. Here we go, she thought before taking the needed few steps so she was standing almost right behind them. “Excuse me,” Ophelia said, a tentative smile settling onto her lips, “Do you know where the street called Cortayne Road is? I’m supposed to find my way there, but I have no idea where it is.”

[gagesteele]

Chuck Palahniuk, Survivor

[gagesteele]

He had been deep in thought, but Gage wasn’t about to share with Maeve what he was thinking about. Gage wasn’t much of the sharing type. Especially not with Blue Bloods. The information could end up in the wrong hands, after all. He knew that the Conclave wasn’t necessarily as tight-knitted as it would like to be, but nevertheless he imagined that Maeve would side with her own kind before the side of the humans. No matter the compassion that she tended to display. But she too seemed to be perturbed by what was happening, something that seemed odd to the doctor. Socially inept, he may not be good with conversation, but he understood expressions rather well. Her body language seemed to communicate apprehension, sadness, perhaps there was even a tinge of fear there? He examined her curiously, eyes squinting slightly, hazing over with yet another cloud of mystery. Perhaps what was happening was even bigger of an event than he thought, more of a cause for concern.  “Well, they did cause their fair share of terror. I imagine the fear of God has been struck in every heart in London.” Ironic, considering the cause of all the chaos. He wondered how the innerworkings of Parliament were handling it. Even those that were highest in power, they remained ignorant to what truly was going on. If only Gage still had his own ignorance. “Yes, there were. Are. And a lot of death certificates to sign. The doctors are being quite overworked. Should I be expecting this to become a regularity?” He didn’t ask for specifics, didn’t expect Maeve to share them, but he coudln’t help but wonder what could possibly be in the days ahead. 

“Oh good. You just looked um…very pensive,” she said and gave him a small smile, one that barely quirked up the corners of her lips. Her smiles barely even made it to her eyes now. It was hard to really smile now, with every that was going on. “Disruptive…yes,” she agreed and let out a sigh as she tucked some loose strands of hair that had fallen out of her ponytail while she had been running back behind her ear and looked away from him for a moment. Gage was probably the only human aside from the Clave’s conduits that had somewhat an idea of what was really going on in London. Though she doubted that he knew the whole truth. She wasn’t about to tell him that a Reaper was going around and causing all this. One less person who had that to fear and keep them up at night was probably for the best.

“No, no. They don’t suspect anything. They just believe it to be terrorist attacks.” But what would they suspect? That immortal fallen angels turned vampires were now battling the actual Grim Reaper was going around and causing all the attacks? Humans believed what was easiest for them to wrap their heads around. They wanted the most logical explanation, not believing that there were things that bumped in the night that were causing all the chaos. Knowing the truth would set the entire world into havoc and madness. “It’s been hard there though. There are a lot of victims that need to be taken care of.”

[gagesteele]

The sun was meant to supply energy to a person through its rays and the vitamins they provided when absorbed, but for Gage, the reminder that a new day was settling in left him exhausted. Another day passed without any answers. Others might find new opportunity with a new dawn, but not Gage. He wasn’t that optimistic of a person. The glass half empty, not half full. And his questions were unanswered rather than solvable. He did not see the world through rose-colored glasses. No, he saw the world through a jaded view thanks to his circumstances growing up. The world had always been grim around him and he thought that it needed fixing, saving. But he was no savior. He wasn’t even turning out to be that great of a doctor. His father would be ashamed to see him now, like this, a failure to the legacy that he built, a failure as a big brother to Helen. 

Being addressed startled him, his body tensing despite the softness of the voice that called out to him. He was always on guard, slightly paranoid by what could be lurking on any given corner. He hadn't expected much of anyone to be out this early, let alone someone who knew of him. He wasn't exactly a known figure, save for by his patients. And by blue bloods. Which, of course, of the two, it would be one of the latter that found him. He had no luck, after all. Regarding the girl who may have had a young vessel but was in reality as old as time, he gave a curt, stiff nod. "Yes, I am fine." Being 'fine' was relative. Gage had spent his whole life floating through his days as 'fine,' in subpar conditions where happiness was more of a fleeting thing. Not even in his successes was he happy. Content, perhaps, but happy? No.

He pursed his bottom lip before commenting, "Affairs with your kind tend to be rather disruptive lately. Moreso than usual." He knew little of what was going on with the Blue Bloods as of late, so caught up in his research. But his feel of everything, his initial impression, seemed to suggest that not even the Blue Bloods themselves were quite aware of what was happening. All the deaths, what happened at St. Agnes, it clearly spelled out to Gage that something supernatural was happening. And he knew the Blue Bloods had to be responsible somehow. "Does the hospital suspect anything?" He imagined Maeve kept her ears open since she worked there. The Blue Bloods couldn't afford for anything to be leaked, after all, and that was part of what Gage was used for too.

Maeve wasn’t normally a runner. Her usual exercise came from dancing or yoga. But her normal routines weren’t helping to clear her head. Another night had been filled with barely any sleep. So she broke out her lightly used running sneakers, tied up her hair into a long ponytail and started jogging her way out of her apartment not long after the sun had come up. 

The park was practically empty, only a few other early morning joggers and the birds were her company. Her feet pounded against the pavement of the trail, in tune with the swinging of her arms and the beat of the music playing into her ears. She was starting to understand why people ran a little more. By focusing only on the path in front of her and each step that she took, Maeve was able to actually clear her mind and forget her recent troubles. She had finally gotten a little rest and her body felt stronger now. She was already stronger and faster than the normal human and Maeve quickly passed other joggers that were on the path as well. And it felt good, to push her body to its limits, to feel the crisp spring morning air fill her lungs and feel the morning sun on her skin. 

But something, or well someone made her stop. Maeve recognized the man that stood by the clearing, a small pond not too far away. Gage Steele. She knew him from seeing him at the hospital sometimes and of course she knew of what he did for her people. Normally Maeve did not talk to him much except for the passing politeness and smiles. He had always seemed so…distant and aloof, like his mind was always somewhere far away. That sort of look was definitely on his face now. She was ready to keep going and continue her run but her nature got the best of her. Pausing her music and removing the buds from her ears, Maeve slowly approached him. “Dr.Steele?” she said in a gentle tone, so she wouldn’t startle him, “Are you alright?”

[gagesteele]

Melody Carlson, Blade Silver

[gagesteele]

[gagesteele]

It was a crisp, clear morning. Rays of sunlight were sneaking through the slits in the blinds of his office, signalling to him that day had arrived and night had passed with his nose buried in the papers again, pouring himself over the vials he’d taken of his sister’s blood. They had answers to give him, he just knew it. Gage simply wasn’t asking the right questions, that was all. Helen’s illness was one that couldn’t be found in any medical book, in any sort of record, in any sort of archive all through history. Nothing like this had been seen before. Her symptoms, the red blood cell count, the health of her bone marrow, none of it added up logically, medically, biologically, so what could it be? It was a question he had been wondering for going on six years now, yet he felt no closer to the truth. He had eliminated all the possibilities he could think of, crossed off even the ones that hadn’t seemed to relate, but could have been possible through some sort of anomaly. Yet he found N O T H I N G.

He knew that many would view his efforts as if they were in vain. Or if as if he was trying too hard. He had tried to remove himself emotionally, look at the bigger picture instead of focusing meticulously on the smaller details, but even that had yielded no results. He was a patient man, calm and true. Yet in this he grew frustrated with each passing day. As the days turned to weeks, the weeks to months, the months to years, he grew disgruntled, angered. He had never found the world so dark before, so ugly. He signed off one more document with his name for the Blue Bloods. He tainted the Steele name with every stroke of his pen. His signature covered up murder, his words provided no new knowledge to the medical field, the world of science. He offered N O T H I N G to the betterment of mankind. Yet he made it easier for those creatures to roam the earth by doing their bidding. 

What was he missing? Gage grabbed his jacket from his chair and locked the office up behind him. He was tired, yet it was not due from the all nighter he had just spent in the lab. No, it ran deeper in that, sank into his bones and took root there. Made him exhausted, left him drained. His eyes were dry from rereading reports, his brain hurt from trying to think of new solutions. He had come up dry with every attempt. 

                                               ( Once you eliminate the impossible,                                                  whatever remains, no matter                                                  how improbable, must be the truth. )

He found himself at the park, in a clearing surrounded by trees. The spring air hit his face but it did nothing to wake him up from his trancelike state. Even outside of the lab, his head was filled with numbers, counts, medical know how. He found no peace there, in the silence. Blinking blearily, he let the birds flock around him, stiff as a statue.