Jason's point of view, during training. Word: Think.
"I don't think I can, sir," Bourne muttered. Uneasy. In the corner of his vision, he could see the man marked for execution. The hood upset him, vaguely; he wished he could look into the man's face.
Barely had the words escaped him before Hirsch leaned down and spoke calmly, forcefully into his ear. "You don't think? That's right, son, you don't. We think for you. It is not a matter of thinking for you—not anymore. You are here to do. Understand?"
He did. And he did.
Author's note: My dear and glorious readers, I am very sad to announced that this marks the end of the Bourne drabbles for the time being. I'll still write them, hopefully (I have a few more ideas floating around), but not with the same regularity. Thank you so much for all of your support, observations, thoughtfulness, compliments, and just general awesomeness.