Miranda sat opposite him, trying to looking him in the eye but he sat in the dark, like he always did. She started the recorder and open the notes app on her tab
"So John, how was your last week?"
"Destructive"
"I read the reports, you trashed your apartment, why?"
"Just to make sure everything was normal"
"So you are saying, disorder is your normal?"
"It has to be"
"Why?"
"Since I lost my anchor"
"But at a fundamental level you had to know, she wasn't real" the room was suddenly tense as his eyes shone from the darkness, he was staring at her for the first time.
"Maybe but to me, she was"
"Why?"
"My job takes me places, some of it good but what I remember when I try to think...are the dead bodies..." he was shutting down
"Speak John"
"People who've tried to walk beside me and behind me, clawing for life, bleeding...no, plasma doesn't let you bleed. You burn, they burn until all you can remember the smell of barbeque. I know it's wrong but as much as the air filters try, I can still smell it. That's how you know, how you know too many people have died"
"How does this relate to her?"
"She's a constant...through all the burnt flesh, infected bodies, destroyed cities and explosion after another. Her voice has been a constant, even her face...the background changes a lot but the foreground, her, that didn't change"
"And now?"
"Now, it's different. Now, I'm alone and its like everything I know is gone. Now, what do I have to look forward to except more violence, more loss and more decisions that I shouldn't have to make"
"I see you fiddling with your helmet, what does it mean to you?"
"Home, purpose, everything. When I wear it, I know what's expected of me and I can deliver"
"Outside" he didn't reply, just kept stroking the helmet "What now John?"
"Something comes up and I have to fight. Waypoint to waypoint, I keep saving humanity"
"What about your humanity?"
"I" John looked at his hands and flexed them "I honestly don't know"