How long

Grinning, Eli takes a bite of the chip offered, thoroughly enjoying this moment. Now that he'd made up his mind about the job offer, already he felt better. Nothing more to stew about and he didn't have to worry about losing anything now.

"You 'guess' it's a good thing, huh?" he teases. "Well, boy, I'm glad you're so sure about it. I might think you wouldn't care one way or the other." Throwing her a sidelong glance, he swallows the smile that wanted to come, and takes another sip of his drink instead. "I guess a guy like me can't expect much more enthusiasm than that though. I mean, lack of popularity has its price."


Erik nods and gives Karla a little wave, though he wasn't satisfied with her response. He knew she was being honest though - he was grateful for that at least. He just wished things would be better this morning.

Gram watches Karla leave before looking over at Erik. "You okay?"

"Me?" he scoffs. "I'm not the one anyone should be worried about. It's that knucklehead you got staying here that should be getting the attention."

Gram is quiet for a moment, though not accepting of his answer. "Just because one person has a different degree of pain does not mean that the man standing next to him is not in need as well."

Erik looks at his food then finally glances up at her. He was appreciative of her insightfulness. "I'm worried. But I'm okay. Thanks."


Waiting a while after Karla had left, Kip finally pries himself from bed. He needed to use the bathroom, and he might as well take a shower while he was there and put some clean clothes on. Though quite unmotivated, it seemed best to move around a little to keep his mind occupied, if only for a few minutes.

He does wind up taking a shower and cleaning himself up. Pulling a clean shirt over his head, he looks himself in the mirror, studying his own now-clean-shaven face. The hot water had felt good, but it hurt to even blink or talk. The bruises were deep and he looked like he'd been in a fight of all fights. He hadn't though. It hadn't been a fight. It had simply been an attack.

Moving slowly to try and keep the pain at bay, he hangs up his towel and heads back to his room. Crawling back in bed, he lies on his back, discovering his welts and bruises there weren't quite as painful as his ribs so it was the least uncomfortable position. A hunger pain spreads through his stomach but he ignores it. He'd had some water. It would be enough for now.


Reese groans and puts his face in his hands, tired of so many stressful issues. Even when the Elite had been busy, nothing had been like this. It didn't help that Jason and Katie weren't even here today. A phone call had confirmed that Jason was feeling better, but was too weak to work today - probably tomorrow. It wasn't so much that Reese wanted him here working, but it worried him a lot more than he'd like to admit, that Jason was that bad off from his emotional episode. What was going to happen to him?

Then there was Mick. Reese had called him back earlier to hear the story of Dylan and be questioned as to whether or not he thought the Agency was involved .Without an answer, Reese did tell Mick that there was one person who might know, but it was a long shot. A long shot was all they had though. Unfortunately, it was longer than long. Would Scott agree to searching his implanted data for information about Dylan? They Agency might not have had any files on Dylan at that point in time, but if they really were involved, most likely they'd been planning it for years, just to give Mick and his family grief. A call to Carson proved he didn't know anything about it, and a call to Alec proved the same thing. Scott was the only one left to question, but would he even want to talk about it?

"Here's those files you wanted."

Reese looks up quickly at Susanne, and takes the papers from her. After only a glance at them though, he furrows his brow. "This is the Carter case."

"Yes?"

"I asked for the Palmer case."

"Oh." Susanne bites her lip and takes back the files. "Sorry. I'll bring you the right ones."

A mistake from Susanne? Reese watches her leave, baffled. That was the third thing she'd mixed up today. Once was not like her, twice was worrisome, and three times was.... well, it was unheard of. Was something wrong with her as well? What next?


The dining hall was rapidly being filled as everyone began to gather for supper. It was starting to be a chilly night since the sun had gone down, and stew seemed to be just the cure.

Over to a table on the left, Jade sits next to Dan like usual, having been shooed from the kitchen after helping with housework all day already. She was just as glad to be sitting with him now though - if she had it her way, she'd spend every moment with him, but the work schedules didn't cooperate.

Slipping a hand under the table, Jade finds Dan's hand and curls her fingers around his. She so loved the feel of his hand, and she gives him a sidelong glance that said as much.

While people were still getting settled in, the back door opens once more, but this time, it's an unexpected figure. Dylan enters quietly and glances around the room as if scouting it out to see how safe it is. Moving cautiously and carefully to avoid any attention, he makes his way around the perimeter to where Dan and Jade are alone at their table. He hadn't really intended on joining in tonight but... since things hadn't worked out with him spending time with his dad and Rosetta yet, he'd thought a lot about trying to break the ice from a different angle. He hadn't seen much of his dad today - Mick had mostly been out working on fences, but Dylan didn't have the habit of approaching him anyway, and after their recent talk... things seemed better, but a little more odd at the same time. Regardless, Dan and Jade were about the only ones Dylan talked to, as little as it was. "Um... can I... can I sit with you guys?"

Jade blinks, shocked that her brother was even wanting to eat supper with anyone else. Ever since he'd come, he'd slipped in, gotten his food, then had sat alone at his bunkhouse for his meal. She tries to recover and then nods. "Well yeah... I mean... it's fine with us..." She looks at Dan. "Right?"


Justin's eyes crack open to discover a dim sort of light. He slowly looks to the left, then the right, sweeping the room and trying to figure out why it looked so odd. It takes a few moments to register that he was not in his bedroom - it was the living room he was seeing, and the light must mean early morning.

A yawn follows and he shifts to turn onto his side from his back only to discover a warm body was underneath his head. Stopping dead, he stares into the grayness before daring to glance over and see Beth, discovering not only was his head on her shoulder, but his arm was tucked around her as well. And come to think of it... he moves a little more, discovering that he felt cold all over from having been soaked in sweat only hours prior when his fever had finally broken.

Just lying still, his mind slowly, slowly gropes its way to the light. He'd... been sick... yes, that was right, and... and... Beth... she'd come... she'd come?

Forgetting about not waking her, he sits up, but winces as he feels a splitting headache. The nausea was gone, as was the fever, but every muscle in his body felt like jello, and his head was pounding. So was it just the next morning or... wait, was there a day in between or... no... yes... it was all a foggy, jumbled mess in his brain.

"Holy cow..." He rubs his hands over his face, trying, trying to clear his mind, but there were an awful lot of blank spaces. Time seemed to have escaped him, nor did he know about his nightmares and rants during the night that had eventually died down again. He looks over to Beth again, knowing he'd unintentionally roused her. It was still quite early morning by the color of light coming in through the window, but he was worried about figuring out where he'd been for who knows how long.

"Were you...how..." His slurred speech proves he's not quite awake yet. "Wow... how long have you been here? Or how... how long have I been out?"