Without saying goodbye?

Eli cocks his head at Scarlet, a small smile on his face. She was so confident... but she found security in being with him. There was a reason she needed that, but he wouldn't ask. For now, he would just enjoy the fact that she liked being with him. She may have taken the initiative to start this whole thing, but she was letting him lead and it felt good.

His smile spreads as he stands up and offers her his hand. "Well then. Let's go have a silent conversation. The wind awaits our company."

Back on the bike again, Eli is true to his word and takes them way out of the way, not heading straight back to Scarlet's apartment. Driving clear to the edge of town, he hits a back road and speeds up, racing towards the horizon. It was adrenaline. It was fun. It was freedom.


"So what do you hate most about this place?" Justin tosses the baseball to Scott from a short distance away.

Scott catches it and looks to him skeptically before throwing the ball back. "That's starting out on a negative note, don't you think? Most people would tell me to look at the good, not the bad."

"It isn't about good or bad," Justin corrects. "It's about your opinion."

"What do you care?"

"Smalltalk, man... just smalltalk."

Scott catches the ball again and fingers it a moment before throwing it once more. "I hate most things about it. I hate my small room, I hate the wakeup hours, I hate being told when and what to eat, I hate the counseling sessions and I hate unwanted visitors."

Justin's glove cradles the baseball as he backs up a couple steps, giving them a little more distance. "Which of those do you hate the most?"

Scott shrugs. "Do I have to rank them?"

"No."

"I probably hate the counseling sessions the most. Wouldn't anyone?"

"Oh, I don't know. Me, I think I'd hate the small room more. I need wide open spaces." Justin grins and throws the ball. "'Course, I don't like anyone digging around in my head either, so that would be a close second."

"I figure if I got something I wanna say, I'll say it in my own time," Scott retorts. "I don't like anybody trying to get me to talk before I want to."

"Why not?"

"Well, it's not exactly fun."

"More because it doesn't feel good inside, or because someone is trying to control you?"

Scott catches the ball and just stares at Justin for a few moments. "What's your angle?"

Justin holds up his hands. "No angle."

Scott isn't so sure, but he continues playing catch. "Both. But I'm getting pretty tired of the battle for control."

"Yeah... once control has been ripped from your hands, no one likes letting it go again. Shows determination. Guts. I'd be the same way."

"Would you?"

Justin gives a little scoff. "You kidding? I had my whole carrier torn from my grasp. After that, I decided I wasn't gonna let anybody tell me what to do again. I'm my own man with my own path to choose. No one else can do it for me, and I'm not gonna let them."

Scott pauses and cocks his head. They were now far enough apart that they had to speak louder, and it was more work to throw and catch the ball. "Don't people still try anyway though?"

"Oh, sure." Justin shrugs. "I've learned to take their advice with a smile, digest it, then decide if I wanna take it or not. If not, I simply go my own way. If I do, then I still know it's my own choice. they just had a good suggestion and it was me who decided to do it, not them. Even if I do what they say, I'm still the one in control of my situation."

Scott hadn't thought of it that way before. "What about when your hand is forced? What about when someone takes control whether you like it or not and there's nothing you can do about it?"

Justin twirls the baseball before letting it sail again. "I usually get mad. Right or wrong, it's my natural response like anybody. But eventually, I gotta let it go. If I stay mad, what's the point? Being mad at them just lets then win, right? If someone wants to hurt me and I walk around all the time miserable, haven't they won?"

The baseball lands in Scott's glove with a thick slapping sound. "Didn't they win by taking control in the first place?"

"No one can ever take this." Justin pats his chest over his heart. "No one can ever steal your heart and soul unless you let them. It's not the circumstances that matter - it's our reactions to them."

Scott's mind had taken many twists and turns during this short conversation, and irritation was building again. Justin's words were hitting a little close to home, especially since he had no idea how he'd gotten pulled into this topic in the first place. He hated talking about these things - how had Justin so easily drawn him in? Tightening his grip around the ball, he throws it with more force than needed.

Justin has to be quick, raising his glove in front of his face to stop the speeding ball. The hit is hard enough that he is knocked a step or two backward before looking around to Scott, his eyebrows lifted. "You gonna throw like that, I better back up a little more," he teases. And he does.

Eventually, they're far enough apart that Scott has to put all his strength into his throws just so Justin can catch the ball, and conversation is dropped to avoid shouting. A while later, Scott is worn out and has to call it quits, even though Justin could go all day.

Handing the glove back to Justin, Scott eyes him suspiciously. "Who are you, really?"

"I'm a friend." Justin repeats what he'd said earlier. "See you here tomorrow?"

"Why?"

"I'll bring a bat and we can see how far you can hit."

"Why?"

"Because... I enjoy it? And it gets you out of the office. Two bird with one stone." Justin cocks his head. "You're too smart to think I'm not here to try and help you. But I'll let you choose. Outdoors with me, or indoors with Dr. Hawks."

"What if I want to choose to walk out of here?"

Justin shrugs. "Then that's your choice. Remember, you're the one that's in control. I'm just here to offer an alternative. You don't want it, then I walk away."

"It's that simple."

"Yep."

Scott's gaze narrows and bites his lower lip. Even if Justin was just another person who was sticking their nose into his business, it was better than the sessions with Hawks. "Alright. As long as I don't have to sit in there anymore, it's a deal."

"Good." A smile spreads on Justin's face and he offers to shake hands again. "See you tomorrow then." Turning, he walks down the path towards the parking lot again, aiming for his car.

Scott watches him go, curious. No going inside first? No reporting to someone else before he left? Justin was right - Scott was too smart to think he wasn't here because it was business. Justin had admitted he'd been called here by Hawks. But... Scott had to admit... it wasn't all that bad.

Sighing deeply, he glances down to the bloodstain on the knee of his jeans. Starting back towards the housing, he puts his hands back into his pockets. He was exhausted after the game of catch and his arm was already a little sore from throwing. A nap sounded good.


"Backpacks."

"Check."

"Sleeping bags."

"Check."

"Instruments."

"Double check."

"Brains."

"Never!" Kyle pops up from Alic's jeep, hearing the list checking between Erik and Twila. "If we had brains, we wouldn't be doing this, now would we?"

It seemed the laughter hadn't stopped for two days. The whole band was excited and antsy to get on the road. They were going to have to figure out where they'd stay once they got to Nevada, but they could feel the blessing on this trip and no one was apprehensive. There was too much excitement to be worried about the unknowns. Kyle was the most confident though, knowing the territory into which they were going. It was his stomping ground... his home.

Kip loads another box into the trailer that would be pulled behind Theo's pickup. Things had gotten a little crazy, but there was no time to stop and worry. This was one adventure he wouldn't miss. In and out of the house, boxes, bags and more... it was loading day and they would be pulling out early the next morning.

A lull in activity finds Kip alone outside for just a few moments, but it was enough time to suddenly feel a pull to the back of his shirt. Spinning around, his eyebrows rise, seeing Whitney. "What are you doing here?"

"Aw." Her lower lip pouts. "That's the only greeting I get? And you were going to leave town without saying goodbye?" Whitney's hands crawl up Kips arms until they're resting on his shoulders.

Kip's face reddens slightly. "You know if anybody sees you, they'll kick you out."

"Well then... we better not let that happen." Whitney takes his hand and drags him away from the vehicles, around to the side of the garage. Pushing him up against the wall, she embraces him in a passionate kiss.

Kip murmurs a resistant surprise, but after a few moments, he finds his arms around her, returning the kiss.