Matt uncurled from his position on the canvas cot and stretched himself out. Finally, his head had stopped swimming from the pentobarbital Cole had ordered him dosed with.
That infuriated him. He'd been talking, making headway with Cole, then stabbed in the back. Well, arm, but metaphorically, Matt felt betrayed. Cora had not yet asked about the blood on his front, or if she had he'd been too delirious from the sedative to be able to comprehend her.
His whole goal had been to not become a weapon. The whole point of him fighting was to fight his way back home and reclaim his position as an agent. Lost. It was lost and gone. Nobody was willing to treat him like a human. Instead, he was at best some sort of intelligent animal that needed to be on a leash. At worst, he was a land mine with the sensor tripped.
Hell, even Cole...Cole the analytical mind that could see through people...even Cole treated him like a dangerous monster.
What if he was?