Torn

The judge purses his lips and studies Gunner for several long minutes as people in the courtroom hold their breath. Gunner bravely looks back at him without blinking, passion for his cause showing in his gaze. The clock in the back of the room ticks as the judge weights his options. he could lose his job for siding with the defendant. But Gunner had struck a chord and looking into his eyes produced the most conviction Bartowski had ever felt in this court. His next move shocks the entire room.

Without any further conversation or debate, he addresses the crowd. "This case is dismissed. Mr. Franklin, you're free to go."

The prosecution erupts with complaints - witnesses from Northside yell their displeasure. On the other side, shocked shouts of relief ring out. David's eyes go wide and he looks at Angelica with total shock, unable to believe the sudden ruling.

For a moment, Gunner can't move. His feet felt glued to the floor as such relief swept over him. Thank you, God... Thank you. Turning around, he first looks to David and Angelica, his eyes thanking them more than words ever could. As the noise persists, and friends and coworkers try to come to him for congratulations and greetings, Gunner's eyes only look for one person.

The guards try to keep order and push people back, both those who were angry, and those who were on Gunner's side. It was a noisy chaos for several minutes as emotions ran high.

Gunner sweeps the room with his gaze, almost frantically searching. And finally his sight reaches the one he really wanted. Locking eyes with Bree, nothing else in the room mattered anymore. She was the whole reason for this thing and the only reason worth this victory.


David lets out a long sigh and holds out his hand to shake Angelica's. "Well, partner, congratulations." Smiling, he stands and begins to gather his papers, putting them back in his briefcase. "Sorry to win and run," he jokes, "but my plane leaves in an hour and I still need to pick up my bags from the hotel."

He hadn't told her that he would be sacrificing a victory dinner that was their tradition. Snapping his case shut, he looks down at Angelica warmly. "Eat a slice of celebration for me." His eyes roam to Reese, who was near the back of the room, then he looks back at Angelica. "I think your victory party awaits." Smiling again, he winks. "See you around, Angelica."


Scott nods a little as Dalton talks, not arguing with him about Hope and just listening to what was going on back at TJY. "Yeah... I hope Gunner gets off alright. If he doesn't, you and I and JT belong behind bars just as much as he does."

He fiddles with his pop can again, his eyes roaming everywhere but Dalton's gaze. "I'm sure the office will get used to me not being around," he comments dryly. "Even when I get back out of here, I'm not planning to go back. I'm tired of the living nightmare."

Standing up, he paces a little before stopping in front of the window, looking down over the grounds. Reaching out, he places his hand on the glass just like he used to do at Hope's old office. It felt the same. His palm was soothed by the coolness of the glass, yet it was warmed by the sun's rays. There was an odd comfort to it... maybe because it did remind him of Hope's old office and he'd found peace there. "Tell them not to come anymore, Dalton," he pleads quietly. "I know they mean well... but I don't want anybody here. Please."


Dylan stuffs his last shirt into his backpack, looks around the room one more time then zips up his bag. He grabs his knife off the table and slips it into his pocket then slips on his jacket. There was no point in any farewells or fanfare. He had nothing here. It wasn't even worth the fight anymore. His dad didn't even care anymore so why should he stay? Dylan hadn't wanted to stay here, but he hadn't ever thought Mick would give up on him like that. Maybe it was best so he could leave as he pleased now.

Slinging his backpack over his shoulder, Dylan heads out. It was near lunchtime but not quite. If he hurried, he'd make it to the road without being stopped by anybody. He didn't feel like explaining, and he hoped to make it without any words with his sister.

Making his way down the driveway, he looks back once, seeing a few people around the barn doing chores before the noontime meal. He didn't see his father. A raindrop hits him on the face and he sighs. But he wasn't going to stop. Turning back around, he continues his trek to the road.

It wasn't a long hike... the driveway wasn't all that long and he makes it to the road just as the clouds burst forth with the rain that had been felt in the air since early this morning. Dylan stands at the roadside, totally disgusted and totally beat. What was he doing? He'd called no one. He had no ride. He had no plans. He had nowhere to go. And it didn't matter where he went - he would never be safe. They would always find him.

Miserable, Dylan lets his backpack slide from his shoulder, and he uses it to sit on as he quickly becomes soaked in the cold, pouring rain. He pulls his jacket a little tighter around him, but it didn't matter much. Within minutes he was sopping wet from head to toe and so far no one had driven by for him to hitch a ride with. Shivering a little, he hunches over and just sits - the very picture of what was going on inside of him. He wanted to leave and be on his own, yet he knew that the ranch was a safe place to be. So he was stuck between the two worlds, feeling void of any element that would push him one way or the other and make up his mind.


"Yeah, that should be good for now. Let's go take a break for lunch." Mick nods to Dan after they'd brought in some of the horses out of the rain and made sure they had enough hay for the feeding later.

Stopping at the edge of the barn to prepare to walk through the rain, Mick stops and squints down the driveway a the odd form. Was that someone sitting by the road? It was hard to see. But then he knew. He knew without his eyes being sure that it was Dylan. Had he called someone to pick him up? If he had, why would he be waiting out there in this pouring rain? Had he just set out on his own then stopped himself? Did he feel rejected yet had nowhere else to go? Mick's heart was torn in two. It was going to take him a while to forgive Dylan for what happened with BJ, but even so, he wanted so badly to go after him and tell him to stay and come back inside where it was warm and dry. But he knew he couldn't. Not this time. Not after he'd made up his mind not to coax Dylan anymore. Deep down, Mick knew that if his son broke, he'd be there for him, but until that point, he had to remove himself from the situation and let Dylan decide.

Mick exchanges another glance with Dan, a sad look passing in his eyes. "I told him he could leave," he explains quietly. "Looks like he didn't make it very far." He sighs deeply. "He's gonna catch his death of cold out there."

He watches for a few more moments, seeing that Dylan was making no move to get up and walk or come back. Mick looks back at Dan again. "I can't go rescue him... not this time. But...." He shrugs lamely. "Would you mind going and offering him a ride to town? If he's that determined to leave, I might as well make sure he gets to town in one piece."