Ball

Eli licks some sauce off his fork and laughs at Scarlet's question. "Mmm... naw, I don't think the kiss has to wait. I think we've already demolished that route, don't you think?"

Still grinning, he finishes off his food, satisfied with the good meal. Drinking the rest of his tea, he glances at his watch. "We got time to sit here for a while, or... if we leave now, we can have an extra long ride back to your place."

He knew without having talked about it that Scarlet enjoyed the longer rides, which was why he had already taken a long route this morning.


With Hope's final statement, all Scott can do is watch her walk away. A deeper frustration boiled inside of him than he'd ever felt before. He was mad at her, mad at himself and mad at the Agency. Nothing was right anymore. Everything was upside down. Nothing made sense and the light at the end of the tunnel seemed to be fading a little more each day.

Scott's eyes follow Hope until she's disappeared inside the building. His stomach revolted, threatening to throw up what little he'd had to eat today. Turning around, he trudges up the walking path with absolutely no destination in mind. Was this it? Was it over between them? Was this the second love he'd lost?

Hot, angry tears build behind his eyes and his vision is blurred as he walks. Continuing to trudge on anyway, he doesn't see the raised crack in the pavement. It's just high enough that his foot catches it and without warning, he's sprawled on the concrete slab.

Not uttering a sound, he rolls over to sit up, a sharp pain running through his knee. Looking down, he sees that he's torn his jeans and a bit of blood is soaking through. Immediately, images from that dark cell come rushing through his mind... Being thrown into the wall, scraping his knees on that harsh stone floor and having nothing to stop the bleeding or the pain.

Clenching his eyes shut tightly, he rocks, murmuring to himself and trying to stop the memories from overtaking him.

"Hey, are you okay? Did you hurt yourself? Can I help?"

The male voice breaks into Scott's thoughts. He's so stuck in a world of chaos though that he doesn't realize right away that it's a man offering help, not an Agency foe trying to hurt him further. "No!" Scott lashes out with his arm, sweeping the man's legs right out from under him.

The man gives a short cry but can do nothing but let gravity take over as he lands beside Scott on the ground.

The incident is enough to bring Scott's mind back into focus and he looks quickly to what he'd just done. "I'm... I'm sorry. You just... you startled me."

"I see that." The man rubs his elbow gingerly, but he grins a little. "Next time I'll shout from a distance, okay?"

Scott gives a little scoff. "At least you're willing to keep away."

The man quirks an eyebrow, but doesn't miss a beat. Instead of backing off, he offers his hand in a friendly gesture. "I'm Justin."

Scott isn't so sure about him, and really is in no mood for small talk, but he accepts the handshake anyway. "Scott."

"You hurt?"

"Naw... just a scratch I think."

"They really ought to get after this sidewalk. I doubt you're the first person to fall." Justin gets to his feet then offers Scott a hand up.

Scott stands a little wobbly and brushes himself off, feeling stupid. Who was this guy anyway? He wasn't an orderly or a doctor - he wasn't wearing any uniform or name tag, just dressed casually in jeans and a t-shirt. "Visiting someone?"

"In a manner of speaking." Justin cocks his head. "I came to see you, actually."

Scott bristles, his face paling slightly. Was this Agency? A trick of Austin's? He backs up a step. "W...why?"

"It's okay," Justin assures calmly. "Dr. Hawks asked me to come."

"What for?"

"You kidding me?" Justin lifts his eyebrows. "Don't tell me you actually enjoy sitting in his stuffy office and going through a bunch of routine questions."

"No..." Scott is still hesitant. "What does that have to do with you?"

"Lets just say that maybe Dr. Hawks figured you could use fresh air more than an office."

"And that's why you're here. Fresh air." Scott's frustration was quickly returning. "If you're here for me, let's get one thing straight - I don't like beating around the bush."

Justin grins. "Fair enough. I'm just here as a friend, Scott. I'm here to get you physically active so you can clear your mind and fight this thing with more than frustration and anger."

"Great. Another person who wants to fix me. Forget it."

"Hey, I don't want to fix you," Justin defends. "You gotta do that yourself. All I wanna do is show you that there's more here than that little bedroom and that stuffy office. I was told that you got an awful lot inside that head of yours, and that a little bit of physical activity might just do the trick. So come on... at least humor me, huh?"

Scott rolls his eyes. "I go for walks. It's enough."

"What? Fifteen minutes once a day? When was the last time you went for a run? Played frisbee?"

"Look, I think it's stupid. Running around wearing myself out won't do anything but make me more tired than I am already."

"Then at least prove it to me." Justin walks a few steps to the nearby bench where he'd left a baseball and two baseball gloves. Picking them up, he hands one glove to Scott. There was a nice grassy area just around the bend in the path. "Give me three days. If you still think it's stupid, I won't come back. Deal?"

Scott looks at the glove, finally taking it grudgingly. Maybe it would be good to get his mind off everything for a while, even if it felt a bit silly. He wanted to stop thinking about his problems and stop thinking about Hope. And at least Justin would leave after three days if he wanted him to. That was more than he was getting from anybody else - respect. "Fine. But don't get too fancy with the ball. I still have trouble with depth perception every once in a while on account of my eye."

"No sweat. Come on."