“It’s fine, sir,” Abner said, cautiously stepping through the door. “More than I’m used to, actually.” Even without the furniture, the cell itself dwarfed his usual quarters—tall enough to stand, wide enough to lie down with room left over. Meant for people, not things like him.

Unsurprisingly, he ignored the cot, opting to sit in the corner instead. The extra space made him feel uneasy. Vulnerable. With his back against one wall and his side against another, he at least had the illusion of security. Important if the Private Abner mask began to slip. The thought of Anderson meeting his real self wasn’t ideal, but if it had to happen, he wanted Subject 51 to be as calm as possible. A tall order without Dr. Holland around, but he could try.

“Um. Lieutenant,” he said hesitantly, once he was settled. “Are you busy? I wanted to ask you some stuff, if that’s okay. About earlier.”