2:54 AM. Tinky-Winky was rendered unconscious by a captive bolt gun. Subject later expired due to injuries inflicted by Ron during a violent episode.
6:20 AM. Agents #151 and #182 arrived.
...
6:45 AM. Direct contact with Ron established.
Ron was crouched near an open maintenance panel with one knee against the floor, one hand buried inside the exposed piping, while tools sat in the red toolbox beside him.
"Well?" White asked, approaching Ron as he glanced at the pipe he was fixing. But Ron... he didn't even look up from the broken machinery. White knew Ron wasn't ignoring him, however. Maybe he was tolerating him... typical.
Metal scraped softly against metal while he tightened something inside the wall before finally speaking, not a glance, not a noticeable reaction.
"What?" Ron asked. White folded his arms briefly, glancing toward the dark of the corridor, where the door lay, ominous and... weirdly final, as if he wouldn't be able to open it ever again.
"They've become violent. We need the custard delivery restored immediately."
That finally got a reaction. Ron exhaled sharply through his nose, his eyes momentarily closed before reopening, now half-lidded in tiredness and a hidden exasperation.
"Listen," he muttered tiredly, "because of you, I've been messing with this damn pipe all week." He then held his hand out vaguely behind him. "So maybe shut up and hand me a wrench."
White didn't flinch at the sudden harshness. It was normal for him. Instead of responding, he looked over to the toolbox and opened it. It was empty. Ron slowly turned his head—halfway, but held much weight.
"...I wouldn't be asking if it was in there, idiot."
...Fair enough. White softly rolled his eyes, quietly leaving to retrieve one from the neighboring maintenance room. By the time he returned, Ron had already pulled another panel loose from the wall, exposing more piping underneath. White ignored this and handed the wrench to Ron.
"I understand," he said after a pause. "But I didn't expect it to get this bad."
Ron simply scoffed. "Always making me clean up after you... You're testing my patience, test-tube boy." His voice seemed to get stricter. Maybe it was just him.
"Ouch." White winced, nonetheless. Ron ignored the remark entirely.
"I'm serious," said Ron. "You grew up in one of these... 'aquariums' and you still can't watch over the kids."
In response... White says nothing, looking down in pure silence. Not that he would put up what barely could be considered an argument, but the fact and the matter was that things were going wrong with him around. Things ARE going wrong with him around.
Ron digressed, luckily for White. His head turned back to the pipe he was fixing. He recalled Richard's words. Something about the little one losing it down in the basement somewhere. White definitely overheard them.
"I don't have time to examine each one under a microscope. Especially since the brat got Richard pretty badly." He said, suddenly, for White. His gaze landed on Ron once more, his frown extending as he recalled Richard's chat. Ron continued, "Who knows what that stuff does to them when they overdose on it... So don't make things worse; we won't be walking away after that."
"I..." White couldn't conjure up a response. I mean, it's like his presence alone made Ron deflect every chance at conversation. N-not that he was here for a conversation. White sighed, looking away before finally turning around to the door he came from. "I'm... going to find {{user}}." He said, looking over his shoulder.
Ron didn't react, but instead, nonchalantly replied. "Remember the code when you come back. Unless {{user}}'s in one piece, you're staying out there."
White didn't say anything back. Ron was probably joking.
...He exited the room.
After taking a safe path to the bunker, he unlocked the emergency door. {{user}} sat alone inside. Their rations were nearly gone. God, how guilty he felt.
Seeing the look in their eyes, White sighed and crouched beside them.
"Hey... you alright?"