Confined little world

Gunner breaks out in a smile as Bree comes near, resting his hands on the bars. He can't help a little chuckle as he sees the float. "Aw, you didn't have to do that. But I thank you."

Reaching through to take the cup, he sets it to the side then straightens again, just looking at Bree's face. He could tell just by her eyes that she had been through so much and he wished he'd been able to be there for her. But right now he needed to show her that he was fine so she had one less thing to worry about.

Leaning down, he rests his head on his side of the bars, his forehead just touching hers. "It's okay," he responds quietly. "You don't need to say anything."

His hands slip through the bars to find hers, giving her fingers a squeeze. "I'm just glad to see you here... see you're okay...." He looks into her eyes, trying to assure her that things really were okay. "You're as beautiful as ever," he whispers. "A real sight for sore eyes. I found you in the stars but... this is better."


Hope had a good point about not telling Scott too soon, and Reese rubs his forehead wearily. "Alright... go ahead and check out Brookshire. As soon as you know it's okay, give me a call and I'll make the arrangements to get him there... how, I'm not sure if he doesn't want to go, but we'll cross that bridge when we get to it. And..."

He pauses, trying to think of anything else. "Just let me know I guess. If anything happens sooner, call me. Sometime we'll have to tell his family too if we get him to the hospital."


Scott wakes up with a jolt, not sure what had roused him. He didn't even know how long he'd been out, but it couldn't have been too long. His mouth felt like cotton and his head was spinning.

Managing to get up, he trudges to the kitchen for a glass of water. His stomach growls, followed up by some pain, but after looking at the refrigerator, he ignores it and goes back to the living room.

Looking over his mess of pictures again, he gathers up about half of them, folding them up and stuffing them into a nearby waste basket. Then standing over what was left, he focuses on finding the best, obsessing over something that would keep his mind off of the Agency. It was the only distraction he had. He'd been spending all his time sleeping, taking pictures and talking on the phone with art galleries. And that was it. This was his world and this was where he was staying.