Anger is a natural emotion, it's normal to get upset, frustrated, a myriad of feelings building up like steam that you have to let out. Sometimes steam escapes without meaning to, sometimes the pressure is so hard to handle you can't stop yourself from exploding.

Jäger knew that pretty well.

He hadn't meant for everyone to see, hadn't meant to hit himself repeatedly, hadn't meant to push IQ away when she tried to stop him, hadn't meant to sound so harsh when Blitz showed rightful concern as he had just witnessed him strangling himself, hadn't meant to give Bandit a dirty look as he stared with his usual blank face as Jäger was scratching his face, hadn't meant to practically run away.

He simply hadn't meant to.

Weeks of feeling under the weather, a mixture of having to pretend and the fatigue that ensued, anger pooling in his stomach as a result. He couldn't simply bottle himself up, every little quirks that owed him side glances and whispers like he was broken and abnormal. He couldn't stomach the curious looks, the fear or awkwardness, the incomprehension or even the comments, not just on base. Yes he was rocking back and forth quite a lot sometimes, yes he would keep making the same annoying noise some people chewed him out for because they were working (which Mute dubbed "the fish" and that made it better), yes he couldn't handle the noise tonight out of all nights, no he wasn't "a party pooper". He tried keeping them under control.

Truly, he felt different.

So different in fact he couldn't figure out how people worked. What were they really thinking ? What was that expression ? That person was annoyed right ? Not even mentioning how tones meant nothing most of the time, let alone two thirds of what Bandit was saying. Was that sarcasm, a joke ? With the years he managed to try and be his best self, kind, caring, a shoulder to rest on. All a facade. He had no clue how to be those things, most were learned, not innate.

He felt fake.

"You're so self-centered, don't talk to me again."

He started actively telling himself to keep it shut.

"Wow, that's rude, do you kiss your mother with that mouth ?"

He didn't have a mother but she probably wouldn't like it.

"Gosh you're boring, please stop talking."

So he shut down and quietly left after a while.

"You've been talking for ten minutes straight, could you not ?"

He's been a bit too apologetic ever since.

But even then, despite his best efforts, it would happen again, and again, and again, and again. He was tired of it, tired of himself.

The workshop's radio was broken and he had settled on repairing it as a way to change his mind and push out the subsequent fatigue his meltdown brought. Sitting right on the concrete near the fire exit, taking apart the device with ease as he made mental notes of the way every single piece fit together. There was no way he wouldn't be in awe while gutting the insides of different appliances, taking in every single details and making them his own, gently tucked into his brain for later use. It was satisfying, quenched his never-ending curiosity.

But not everything could go right on the first try. He had prodded at the insides for hours, now down quite several attempts. It just wouldn't turn on. Picking it apart, putting it back together, over and over and over and over and over and over-

He couldn't take it anymore, the radio made a satisfying crunch as the plastic made violent contact with the ground, several pieces flying around. Face in his hands, he had to stop the scream of frustration building up at the back of his throat. Why couldn't he do something so simple, something he had done before ? Why couldn't everything be as easy as for everyone else ? What was he missing ? Was he really a heartless monster ? Was that it ?

Shifting next to him broke his train of thought but he had no intention to look up. Someone sat next to him, the smell of cigarette making its way to his nose. Bandit. The only one who didn't ask questions, the only one who would stare but not bring it up, the only one who seemed to just get it and let him be himself, the only one who had the right to interfere when he would harm himself. While he would exceed everyone's threshold, Bandit never showed annoyance and if he did, it wouldn't sound like the others, it would sound encouraging in his unique way.

"You showed that radio who's boss." Bandit's voice sounded deeper in their mother tongue, he liked that.

"It won't work." A hand found its way on his back.

"And ? You can't save everything. What are you, Bob the builder ?" A small laugh left his lips along a cloud of smoke.

"Why can't I get this right Dominic ?"

"You know" Bandit brought Jäger closer to him. "You can't always do everything right, especially if you don't have the right manual. Everything is different, similar yeah, but they mostly work in diverse ways. If you're trying with the wrong instructions, it won't work, Hm ? Let's go get you some cake, the other two made if for you and I've been craving it."

The arm around his shoulders as they walked back gave him a sense of *belonging*. Bandit's words were stuck in his head until the next day, he was talking about the radio, right ? It got repaired in the end as they worked together, taped down in some spots by Bandit sure, but it was working alright.

"It reminds me of you." Bandit said, ruffling his hair.

"I'm proud of you Marius."