Sam goes to work and gets things done. He types with emphasis and alternates between adrenaline and cynicism. Sometimes there's moments when he's numb and it's just gone like images on the screen after he changes channels. He can look out the window and see lights on the city and the street and just stare at the beauty. He can try to broach things with Toby or Leo. Toby tells him the President won't apologize. Leo says being tired isn't an excuse for anything.

He clamps it down every day. The woman at the grocery store with her stupid fucking check and her stupid fucking coupons and it takes forever just for him to buy a fucking Washington Post. He clenches his jaw and doesn't say anything. The woman in line behind him takes a step away from him, anyway.

He wishes he were seeing someone so he could fuck this out of his system. And then, because he's not built for this, really, or built for harming people, he thinks he'd need to be seeing someone who understood and didn't mind that the sex was rough. And even then, it's an uncomfortable wish and he grits his teeth and stops thinking it.

The eyes are muscles so when we have to look and look, we get tired. We hear because of nerves in our ear and nerves don't get tired. Sam's eyes are tired from staring hard and looking closer and he can't shut off his ability to hear the blood always rushing in his head. He hears Leo telling him about the MS, and somewhere mixed in there is Josh whining, always whining and Lisa hissing and Toby and Leo and now Bruno, Doug and Connie.