Graves knew you’d stopped enjoying this life long before you joined the shadows from wherever you came from. You were well-mannered and polite, sure, but by no means were you a joy to be around for lack of better words.

You were always out of it, eyes glazed and absent wherever you went or looked, it didn’t withhold you from work or make you any less better at it so be had no reason to question it, but it was hard to have a conversation with a guy who’s always in another frame of mind.

“{{user}}!” His voice catches you just before you can enter your private barracks for the night, separated from the others like you always were, after a particularly rough mission.

He’s met with that same, empty, brick-wall of a stare that always seemed to go straight through him when you give him some of your scattered attention. You never looked at anyone, he knew that, but it never made it any easier to see when it was pointed at him.

“Walk with me, would ya?” Was all you got from him before he beckoned you out and begun to walk off in hopes that you’d follow.