When Dylan doesn't reply to Mick, he thumbs his son on the back. "Angel's talking to you, Dylan. Answer her."
Finally looking up, Dylan's eyes stare into Angel's. There was so much anger there, that it clouded over everything else. Except... somehow... there was the look of pain. Deep pain. "I'm fine," he hisses. "There's nothing wrong with me and I'm not hurt."
Mick thumps him again. "Now apologize."
Dylan remains silent, his eyes falling back to the floor.
"Dylan!"
He looks up, his cheeks flushed crimson, showing embarrassment that one would think only someone innocent or an unwilling party would show. "I apologize," he manages hoarsely.
"Now, wait outside." Mick jerks him towards the door. "I mean it." Once Dylan is waiting outside, Mick looks back to Angel. "I'm sorry. I think it's high time I did more with Dylan than just giving him his space. As long as you got back what he took, I'll leave you to it."
Leo follows Cassy out, contemplating her extended offer. Smiling a little, he doesn't give her an answer, but just chuckles a little and waves her off. "Yeah... I'll see ya." Heading for his car, it's only moments before he's gone.
Getting back to his own apartment, a hot shower felt good. Leaning against the shower walls, he just lets the water run over him and closes his eyes. His stomach growls. Cassy's offer comes back to him. Shaking his head, he continues his shower and winds up finished and dried, staring into his close. His hand runs over a few nicer shirts, but he passes them up for a plain black t-shirt. Next was a pair of faded jeans and his work boots instead of nicer shoes. He didn't want to give Cassy the wrong impression.
With hair still wet, he slaps on some aftershave and heads out again, this time winding up at Cassy's apartment. Sitting in the car for a few minutes, Leo seems to have a hard time actually getting out. What was his problem? It was supper. Just supper. He'd helped Cassy out a lot and she probably wanted some way to thank him since he always turned down payment. A meal was a natural offer. It was just supper.
Nodding to himself, he finally gets out and goes to the door, ringing the doorbell and waiting.
"Okay, what about our lineup?" Kyle looks across the rec room table at Erik. Even though he was slipping into the role of leadership, he still looked to Erik, who had started this whole adventure.
Erik leans back in his chair, his hands behind his head. "I think we need to keep it simple. Gary said they only want two songs."
"Just two?" Twila was surprised and shifts a little in her chair, surrounded by all the others. They'd all played a few videogames to unwind, then had gotten down to business to discuss tomorrow's tryout.
Erik nods. "Apparently we're lucky we got in at all with a booked-solid schedule. Gary said if we impress them with two, they'll have us play more, so that's the goal."
Kyle moves around to sit almost sideways in his chair, leaning back against Alice. "Alright... so what two songs do you think we should go with?"
"Well, we got a good sound that I think's fairly unique, so... maybe if we choose a familiar song with our own twist, then one of ours a little on the calmer side. We don't want them to think we're just another rockband out to blow people's eardrums out."
Kyle grins. "Not that we aren't capable."
Kip laughs and pretends to be playing his bass guitar. "Of course we are."
"So... we'll pick a popular song and sweeten it up and then... I don't know, how about Remind Me for the second one? I think we do a pretty good job."
Erik nods and looks around at the others. "Any opposed?" No one said they were, so he leans forward again, setting his hands on the table. "Alright, then we figure out song number one, and we're set." He pauses, pursing his lips and thinking for several moments. "There is one thing..."
Kyle quirks an eyebrow. "Yes?"
"They're strict about who goes in and out. Gary said they wanted the band and just the band to avoid hassles."
Everybody sits back just a little bit, eying each other. There were only two people in the room who weren't technically part of the band.
"Well Alice comes with me," Kyle states flatly. "Where I go, she goes and thats-"
"But they have rules, Kyle," Erik argues. "This is a tight place and they might be a little stuffy, but we have to respect their wishes or risk them not hearing us at all."
"Then that's their choice." Kyle sets his jaw firmly, still leaned back against Alice. "She's our journalist."
"Ours?"
Kyle shrugs. "In a manner of speaking." He looks over his shoulder at Alice, then back to Erik. "She writes up everything that happens and submits to What's Up? She's a necessity."
Erik sighs, smirking a little. "Alright. She's a part of the band... officially then."
Kyle grins. "Thank you."
"Uh..." Kip raises his hand. "Sorry but... Karla's coming too."
Erik looks over to him and Karla both, feeling a little uneasy in this position, especially in front of Karla. "Look, Kip, we-"
"She has to come," Kip states flatly. "I t old her she could."
"Well yes, but some things change."
Kip gives Karla a sidelong glance, then shrugs. "Our manager has to come with us. It's only natural."
Erik's eyebrows rise. "Excuse me? Manager?"
"Well someone's gotta do it after we get the deal, right? I mean, Karla's perfect. I've heard her on the phone with business calls for your mom and she does great - even more than your mom expects." Kip looks to Karla again. "How 'bout it?"
3/21/10
Maybe Later
Giving a little laugh at Leo's comment about needing a shower she figured even though she hadn't done much before he'd come over she was practicing a little and that alone worked up a sweat.
"Well how about this. You already know where I live so once you get home and take your shower if you care to have a home cooked meal come on over I will have dinner in the oven. If your to tired, than thats not a problem we can do it some other time."
Smiling Cassy grabs her bag of clothing and jacket following Leo out the door locking it behind her. Walking over to where he car was parked she gives a little wave to Leo.
"Maybe I will see you shortly, and if not I'll see you later."
Lifting an eyebrow as Dylan and Mick come through the office door Angel was happy she didn't have any patients right now so they didn't have to see this scene. She couldn't help but feel bad for Mick. He was trying his best with his son and it just hadn't been working his way.
"Yeah these are it."
Taking the bottle from Mick Angel turns it in her hand to read the label and than opens it eyeballing the pills inside making sure they looked all there.
Putting the bottle down again Angel looked at Dylan. She wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt that maybe something was wrong even though she already new the answer.
"Dylan is there something wrong with you? Are you hurt? If you are you could of asked me and I would of been more than happy to check it out, and see what you needed."
Angel did her best to be pashent with the boy and smile sweetly.
"Well how about this. You already know where I live so once you get home and take your shower if you care to have a home cooked meal come on over I will have dinner in the oven. If your to tired, than thats not a problem we can do it some other time."
Smiling Cassy grabs her bag of clothing and jacket following Leo out the door locking it behind her. Walking over to where he car was parked she gives a little wave to Leo.
"Maybe I will see you shortly, and if not I'll see you later."
Lifting an eyebrow as Dylan and Mick come through the office door Angel was happy she didn't have any patients right now so they didn't have to see this scene. She couldn't help but feel bad for Mick. He was trying his best with his son and it just hadn't been working his way.
"Yeah these are it."
Taking the bottle from Mick Angel turns it in her hand to read the label and than opens it eyeballing the pills inside making sure they looked all there.
Putting the bottle down again Angel looked at Dylan. She wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt that maybe something was wrong even though she already new the answer.
"Dylan is there something wrong with you? Are you hurt? If you are you could of asked me and I would of been more than happy to check it out, and see what you needed."
Angel did her best to be pashent with the boy and smile sweetly.
Angry encounter
Mick's shoulders drop and he paces in the office, hearing the news from Angel. "Aw, great. He's been a knucklehead the last couple weeks, but I didn't think he'd still be desperate for a high."
He stops abruptly. "Or worse." Could Dylan be planning something even worse? Was he desperate? Did he want out? Mick had no idea what was running through his son's head, but he didn't want to risk waiting to find out.
"Angel I'm going to find Dylan. Stay there... I'll be right over."
Hanging up the phone before Angel even has time to respond, Mick grabs his hat and heads for the door. "Rosetta, I'm leaving," he calls over his shoulder. "Keep BJ here."
Once outside, he breaks into a run, heading for Dylan's bunkhouse. "Dylan!" He pounds on the door. "Dylan, are you in there?"
Dylan had been sitting on the edge of his bed and he jumps, startled by the banging. What did his father want? Had he found out so quickly? Had he believed the brat? Great.
"Dylan!"
A chill runs down Dylan's spine. He'd seen his dad mad, but his tone of voice now was downright scary. Sliding a little further away, his eyes stay glued to the door, afraid to answer it.
Mick's heart races. He tries the door and finds it locked. Dylan had to be in there. Calling one more time without an answer, he steps back and with one swift kick, the door flies open, splinters from the wood around the lock flying.
Dylan almost falls off the bed, so startled, his face going pale.
Mick takes three long strides to stand in front of him, looking down at him sternly. "Why didn't you answer the door?"
Fear drove Dylan to respond. "Well you sounded mad, and apparently you are. What's the deal barging in on me anyway?"
"I have every right to, since you stole from Angel's office," Mick retorts. Though he was relieved to see Dylan sitting up, his heart still thumps. "Where are the pills?"
"I don't know what you're talking about. I didn't steal anything!"
"Where are they?!"
Dylan glares up at Mick. "I told you I didn't steal anything!"
Mick yanks Dylan from the bed, sending him stumbling into the wall. Without hesitating, Mick grabs hold of the bed's mattress and gives it a hefty shove, sending it off the frame. As suspected, a bottle of pills was nestled on top of the boxed springs. He picks it up and rattles it, turning around to Dylan. Though relieved he'd actually found them and seeing Dylan hadn't taken them, his tone is dead serious. "Oldest trick in the book, Dylan. You should know that. Now you're coming with me to return these to Angel and to explain just what it was you were planning to do with these."
"No." Dylan backs against the wall defiantly. "I don't have to tell you anything." He hurls a few choice words at his father, his tongue proving his bad habit of swearing once again.
"I've warned you about your language," Mick reminds tersely. "You may be sixteen years old but don't think that'll keep me from washing your mouth out with soap." He takes a step towards his son. "You can walk or I can drag you. Those are your choices."
"I have a third," Dylan snaps. "I can stay here."
"Sorry. You're wrong." Mick slips the pills into his pocket and grabs Dylan by the collar.
The trek to Angel's office takes a whole lot longer than it should. It's a power struggle between father and son, and Mick winds up barely missing several punches to the face. He keeps himself from swinging back and just pushes, shoves and pulls until Dylan is stumbling into Angel's office.
Mick is out of breath, his eyes still livid. He pulls the bottle from his pocket and hands it to Angel, breathing heavily. "Are these it?"
Dylan is sweating and glares at the floor.
"Supper?" Leo chuckles and wanders from the bathroom to pick up the remaining tools. "I don't think it's possible for you to wear out your welcome, Cassy. Besides, I'm on your turf. That means if anyone wears out anything, it's me."
Turning to look at her, he smiles a little then shakes his head, ambling across the room to put the tools away and grab his jacket. "I'm hungry," he admits. "But I think I need a shower more than anything else before I kill somebody."
He stops abruptly. "Or worse." Could Dylan be planning something even worse? Was he desperate? Did he want out? Mick had no idea what was running through his son's head, but he didn't want to risk waiting to find out.
"Angel I'm going to find Dylan. Stay there... I'll be right over."
Hanging up the phone before Angel even has time to respond, Mick grabs his hat and heads for the door. "Rosetta, I'm leaving," he calls over his shoulder. "Keep BJ here."
Once outside, he breaks into a run, heading for Dylan's bunkhouse. "Dylan!" He pounds on the door. "Dylan, are you in there?"
Dylan had been sitting on the edge of his bed and he jumps, startled by the banging. What did his father want? Had he found out so quickly? Had he believed the brat? Great.
"Dylan!"
A chill runs down Dylan's spine. He'd seen his dad mad, but his tone of voice now was downright scary. Sliding a little further away, his eyes stay glued to the door, afraid to answer it.
Mick's heart races. He tries the door and finds it locked. Dylan had to be in there. Calling one more time without an answer, he steps back and with one swift kick, the door flies open, splinters from the wood around the lock flying.
Dylan almost falls off the bed, so startled, his face going pale.
Mick takes three long strides to stand in front of him, looking down at him sternly. "Why didn't you answer the door?"
Fear drove Dylan to respond. "Well you sounded mad, and apparently you are. What's the deal barging in on me anyway?"
"I have every right to, since you stole from Angel's office," Mick retorts. Though he was relieved to see Dylan sitting up, his heart still thumps. "Where are the pills?"
"I don't know what you're talking about. I didn't steal anything!"
"Where are they?!"
Dylan glares up at Mick. "I told you I didn't steal anything!"
Mick yanks Dylan from the bed, sending him stumbling into the wall. Without hesitating, Mick grabs hold of the bed's mattress and gives it a hefty shove, sending it off the frame. As suspected, a bottle of pills was nestled on top of the boxed springs. He picks it up and rattles it, turning around to Dylan. Though relieved he'd actually found them and seeing Dylan hadn't taken them, his tone is dead serious. "Oldest trick in the book, Dylan. You should know that. Now you're coming with me to return these to Angel and to explain just what it was you were planning to do with these."
"No." Dylan backs against the wall defiantly. "I don't have to tell you anything." He hurls a few choice words at his father, his tongue proving his bad habit of swearing once again.
"I've warned you about your language," Mick reminds tersely. "You may be sixteen years old but don't think that'll keep me from washing your mouth out with soap." He takes a step towards his son. "You can walk or I can drag you. Those are your choices."
"I have a third," Dylan snaps. "I can stay here."
"Sorry. You're wrong." Mick slips the pills into his pocket and grabs Dylan by the collar.
The trek to Angel's office takes a whole lot longer than it should. It's a power struggle between father and son, and Mick winds up barely missing several punches to the face. He keeps himself from swinging back and just pushes, shoves and pulls until Dylan is stumbling into Angel's office.
Mick is out of breath, his eyes still livid. He pulls the bottle from his pocket and hands it to Angel, breathing heavily. "Are these it?"
Dylan is sweating and glares at the floor.
"Supper?" Leo chuckles and wanders from the bathroom to pick up the remaining tools. "I don't think it's possible for you to wear out your welcome, Cassy. Besides, I'm on your turf. That means if anyone wears out anything, it's me."
Turning to look at her, he smiles a little then shakes his head, ambling across the room to put the tools away and grab his jacket. "I'm hungry," he admits. "But I think I need a shower more than anything else before I kill somebody."
Old Friend
Picking up the phone Angel listens to Mick her eyebrow raising just a little. Dylan had been in her office and took something? Everything was usually locked up, unless he picked the lock and if he did than it would be easy to tell what he took.
"No, no need to have BJ come out again. I'll see if Wendy want to come with me to help. Clint has Chase at the moment so it should be no problem for her to help. Thanks Mick, I'll get back to you as soon as I can."
Hanging up the phone Angel makes her way over to where he daughter was waiting for her. They were going to put together some scrapbooks while they had the free time with Clint off of work today but that would just have to wait.
"Wendy I know you had your heart set on scrap booking, and I promise we will get a little in, but Mick has a little problem and needs me to go through my inventory back at the office to see if anything was miss. I was hoping your could help me. After that we can do the scrap books ok?"
Giving a smile at her mother Wendy nods. She didn't mind helping out as long as she was spending time with her. Even though they both lived here at the ranch sometimes it was hard spending time together between work, and being home with Chase so anytime together was better than nothing.
..Then time passed and seeing the can bits that were open had made the process easy on finding what was taken. Angel and Wendy had double checked the list on what was meant to be in there at least three times making sure they hadn't made a mistake and accusing anyone of taking anything.
Letting Wendy go back to the dinning hall Angel promised she would be right over so they could continue there time together.
Going to her desk and picking up the phone to call Rosetta's office Angel waits till she hears Mick's voice on the other end. Leaning back in her chair she had the information written down, and already was noting next time Luke went into town her got her some new locks and a lock for the office door as well. Though it felt strange thinking about locking it here, Angel new maybe it was for the best.
"Hey Mick, sorry it took me so long to get back to you. Wendy and I went over the invintory about three times and came up with the same thing each time. A bottle of seven hundred and fifty ml of Vicodin was missing. About twenty pills in the bottle."
Being taken in Leo's arms Cassy can't help the laugh that escape as she lets out her own little whoop before looking back at Leo gasping for air between her laughs.
"I think its more like you fixed it. The most I did was got in the way, and watched you bang your hand over and over again. I guess I could of been the cheer leader."
As the dancing stops Cassy can't help the smile that was still on her face. Glancing down at her watch she realized why she felt so hungry again it was almost dinner time. I guess the saying time pass when your having fun really did apply here.
"Thank you so much once again Leo. Your help has been great. Soon though everything is going to be done here and than I am going to have to start breaking things myself to have you come fix them."
Giving a small laugh Cassy can't help but take in Leo for a moment sweat and all. There was something about him that was appealing know he'd just dont some hard work in fixing something. Giving a grin and shaking her head Cassy cross her arms over her chest for a moment before saying anything more.
"I'd ask you over for dinner to see if you wanted me to cook for you, but I'd hate to over stay my welcome with you."
Arriving to the base where Wes would stay and find out more about his mission he scans the area. There were many faces he new but there was just one he was looking for. Spotting the blond Wes gives a grin walking over to him.
"Well if it isn't Riley Lovit. I should of known you wouldn't have missed out on the action."
Hearing a voice behind him the blond turns around quickly his blue eyes giving Wes a once over almost angry at first. But than a grin quirks on his mouth as he held his hand out to Wes.
"Wes you should know me better than that. After all we did go through boot camp and everything else together. When I found out you were going to be the captain of a squad again I couldn't not sign up to see my buddy."
Giving a smile and shaking his head Wes was kind of glad at least his long time friend was here. He missed home terribly already but knowing his buddy was around at least helped a little.
Starting to walk again Wes slings his arm around Riley's shoulder to pull him along the way to the barrics to see what was going on. Some catching up was in order, after they found out what was going on.
"No, no need to have BJ come out again. I'll see if Wendy want to come with me to help. Clint has Chase at the moment so it should be no problem for her to help. Thanks Mick, I'll get back to you as soon as I can."
Hanging up the phone Angel makes her way over to where he daughter was waiting for her. They were going to put together some scrapbooks while they had the free time with Clint off of work today but that would just have to wait.
"Wendy I know you had your heart set on scrap booking, and I promise we will get a little in, but Mick has a little problem and needs me to go through my inventory back at the office to see if anything was miss. I was hoping your could help me. After that we can do the scrap books ok?"
Giving a smile at her mother Wendy nods. She didn't mind helping out as long as she was spending time with her. Even though they both lived here at the ranch sometimes it was hard spending time together between work, and being home with Chase so anytime together was better than nothing.
..Then time passed and seeing the can bits that were open had made the process easy on finding what was taken. Angel and Wendy had double checked the list on what was meant to be in there at least three times making sure they hadn't made a mistake and accusing anyone of taking anything.
Letting Wendy go back to the dinning hall Angel promised she would be right over so they could continue there time together.
Going to her desk and picking up the phone to call Rosetta's office Angel waits till she hears Mick's voice on the other end. Leaning back in her chair she had the information written down, and already was noting next time Luke went into town her got her some new locks and a lock for the office door as well. Though it felt strange thinking about locking it here, Angel new maybe it was for the best.
"Hey Mick, sorry it took me so long to get back to you. Wendy and I went over the invintory about three times and came up with the same thing each time. A bottle of seven hundred and fifty ml of Vicodin was missing. About twenty pills in the bottle."
Being taken in Leo's arms Cassy can't help the laugh that escape as she lets out her own little whoop before looking back at Leo gasping for air between her laughs.
"I think its more like you fixed it. The most I did was got in the way, and watched you bang your hand over and over again. I guess I could of been the cheer leader."
As the dancing stops Cassy can't help the smile that was still on her face. Glancing down at her watch she realized why she felt so hungry again it was almost dinner time. I guess the saying time pass when your having fun really did apply here.
"Thank you so much once again Leo. Your help has been great. Soon though everything is going to be done here and than I am going to have to start breaking things myself to have you come fix them."
Giving a small laugh Cassy can't help but take in Leo for a moment sweat and all. There was something about him that was appealing know he'd just dont some hard work in fixing something. Giving a grin and shaking her head Cassy cross her arms over her chest for a moment before saying anything more.
"I'd ask you over for dinner to see if you wanted me to cook for you, but I'd hate to over stay my welcome with you."
Arriving to the base where Wes would stay and find out more about his mission he scans the area. There were many faces he new but there was just one he was looking for. Spotting the blond Wes gives a grin walking over to him.
"Well if it isn't Riley Lovit. I should of known you wouldn't have missed out on the action."
Hearing a voice behind him the blond turns around quickly his blue eyes giving Wes a once over almost angry at first. But than a grin quirks on his mouth as he held his hand out to Wes.
"Wes you should know me better than that. After all we did go through boot camp and everything else together. When I found out you were going to be the captain of a squad again I couldn't not sign up to see my buddy."
Giving a smile and shaking his head Wes was kind of glad at least his long time friend was here. He missed home terribly already but knowing his buddy was around at least helped a little.
Starting to walk again Wes slings his arm around Riley's shoulder to pull him along the way to the barrics to see what was going on. Some catching up was in order, after they found out what was going on.
Happy dance
Alec just looks back at Hope, an inquisitive look in his eye, almost like he didn't understand what she meant, even though it was simple. He doesn't respond, but just watches her leave, the strangest look on his face as he stares at the closed door.
Rick turns around to see him and watches him for several moments before giving in to a small smile. "Feels good to help someone, doesn't it?"
Alec snaps to attention and looks at Rick quickly, but without an answer. Was that the strange feeling he felt in his gut? It was... warm. Hope had thanked him for helping and she'd really meant it. She had... appreciated him. It was different than what he shared with Ryan. This was... well, he couldn't put his finger on it.
Rick cocks his head, wondering at the silence. "Maybe it even feels better than killing someone or torturing for sport."
Maybe. Alec looks away and scoots down in the bed again, turning on his side that wasn't so sore. He felt the same kind of confusion he'd had when Ryan had returned to see him after he'd dissed her. This new feeling confused him. This feeling of... feeling good.
Mick's eyes widen at BJ's hurried explanation of what had just gone on. "Whoa, wait, you what?"
He shakes his head and kneels to the boy's level. "First of all, you saw Dylan. And he took something from Angel's office?"
Frowning, he ruffles BJ's hair. "You did the right thing by telling me. How about you go help Mom for a sec and catch your breath? I need to make a phone call."
Standing up, Mick waits until BJ is out of earshot before picking up the phone. He could walk, but he wanted to be discrete if Dylan was wandering around with something he'd stolen. "Hey, Becky... is Angel in the dining hall? Yeah, could I talk to her? Thanks." Waiting until he hears Angel's voice, he starts in with concern in his voice. "Angel, it's Mick. Listen, can you do me a favor? BJ just came to me and said Dylan had taken something from your office. Something that fit in his pocket. I don't know if it's something to worry about or not, but could you go check your inventory? I can bring BJ if you like so he can tell us exactly where Dylan was."
The flush of the toilet echos in the bathroom and Leo lets out a whoop. It had taken two trips to the store and it was almost five o'clock, but the toilet was fixed with no bills to the plumber.
"Yes!" Leo throws up his arms, bandaged hand and all - hot, sweaty, hungry and tired, but successful.
Spinning around, he grabs Cassy, one hand in hers, the other around her waist and does a little dance with her, careful to not jerk her around too much as he takes most of the weight with his footwork. "We did it, we did it, woo woo!"
Rick turns around to see him and watches him for several moments before giving in to a small smile. "Feels good to help someone, doesn't it?"
Alec snaps to attention and looks at Rick quickly, but without an answer. Was that the strange feeling he felt in his gut? It was... warm. Hope had thanked him for helping and she'd really meant it. She had... appreciated him. It was different than what he shared with Ryan. This was... well, he couldn't put his finger on it.
Rick cocks his head, wondering at the silence. "Maybe it even feels better than killing someone or torturing for sport."
Maybe. Alec looks away and scoots down in the bed again, turning on his side that wasn't so sore. He felt the same kind of confusion he'd had when Ryan had returned to see him after he'd dissed her. This new feeling confused him. This feeling of... feeling good.
Mick's eyes widen at BJ's hurried explanation of what had just gone on. "Whoa, wait, you what?"
He shakes his head and kneels to the boy's level. "First of all, you saw Dylan. And he took something from Angel's office?"
Frowning, he ruffles BJ's hair. "You did the right thing by telling me. How about you go help Mom for a sec and catch your breath? I need to make a phone call."
Standing up, Mick waits until BJ is out of earshot before picking up the phone. He could walk, but he wanted to be discrete if Dylan was wandering around with something he'd stolen. "Hey, Becky... is Angel in the dining hall? Yeah, could I talk to her? Thanks." Waiting until he hears Angel's voice, he starts in with concern in his voice. "Angel, it's Mick. Listen, can you do me a favor? BJ just came to me and said Dylan had taken something from your office. Something that fit in his pocket. I don't know if it's something to worry about or not, but could you go check your inventory? I can bring BJ if you like so he can tell us exactly where Dylan was."
The flush of the toilet echos in the bathroom and Leo lets out a whoop. It had taken two trips to the store and it was almost five o'clock, but the toilet was fixed with no bills to the plumber.
"Yes!" Leo throws up his arms, bandaged hand and all - hot, sweaty, hungry and tired, but successful.
Spinning around, he grabs Cassy, one hand in hers, the other around her waist and does a little dance with her, careful to not jerk her around too much as he takes most of the weight with his footwork. "We did it, we did it, woo woo!"
I sawed him
Giving a small shake of her head Hope continues to stand. She'd been sitting most of the day and how she just wanted to stand. Maybe for a quick exit if she needed it or more as a punishment to herself for not asking Alec's help sooner for Scott. It could be ether of those answers but for now she was ok standing.
Moving a little closer to the bed though Hope listens very intently to what Alec said to say trying to take everything in and understanding what was going on.
"So, if we can get Scott to control his anger, and at least care about getting better than we have a good chance of helping his train his brain to deflect all this information thats being throw at him."
The look on Hope's face was on that continued to process the information taking in and her mind working on the solution. They had the answer now, and it was a jump but at least it was something they new they had to work to. Now it was filling in the middle that had to be done, and though that could be just as hard Hope was confident in the new information she had to grasp.
Looking back at Alec and cocking her head a little Hope searches his eyes. To most they would still see the cocky air that this man had, but Hope in her profession had learned to look past that, to read behind the cover most people put forth and something was different about Alec. A differnt look lied in his eyes, a spark, a hope, maybe even a care for someone else.
"I guess thats the funny thing that even all my schooling could never understand. When you care about someone, it doesn't matter how much heartache it causes to see them smile and be well again its worth it in the long run."
Giving another smile Hope turns to leave than stops turning back to Alec again. Her eyes seemed to twinkle a little even if they still held sadness. A small spark of hope was there now, a renewed strength that there was in fact a way to help Scott. Tomorrow she would have a talk with Dr. Hawks.
"Thank you Alec very much for shearing this information with me. It's helped a great deal even if nothing has come of it yet. I'll make sure Reese knows you helped me today. Thank you so much once again Alec. It means a lot."
Giving a nod to Rick Hope would talk with him more later but for now she wanted to head to where her stuff was to write a few things down before she forgot and than see if Reese was still in to chat with.
Almost running into Mick as he opened the door BJ skidded to a halt trying to catch his breath the best he could. Just standing there BJ leans an arm against Mick still catching his breath till finally he stands up straght again.
"I...was following Dylan..and he went into Angel's office and he took something from her cabinet. I sawed him, he put it in his pocket. And than he tried to stop me from telling you but I was to fast and slipped away before he could grab me."
BJ gives a smile to Mick as he trys to catch his breath again after his long explantion combined with still trying to breath from running.
Moving a little closer to the bed though Hope listens very intently to what Alec said to say trying to take everything in and understanding what was going on.
"So, if we can get Scott to control his anger, and at least care about getting better than we have a good chance of helping his train his brain to deflect all this information thats being throw at him."
The look on Hope's face was on that continued to process the information taking in and her mind working on the solution. They had the answer now, and it was a jump but at least it was something they new they had to work to. Now it was filling in the middle that had to be done, and though that could be just as hard Hope was confident in the new information she had to grasp.
Looking back at Alec and cocking her head a little Hope searches his eyes. To most they would still see the cocky air that this man had, but Hope in her profession had learned to look past that, to read behind the cover most people put forth and something was different about Alec. A differnt look lied in his eyes, a spark, a hope, maybe even a care for someone else.
"I guess thats the funny thing that even all my schooling could never understand. When you care about someone, it doesn't matter how much heartache it causes to see them smile and be well again its worth it in the long run."
Giving another smile Hope turns to leave than stops turning back to Alec again. Her eyes seemed to twinkle a little even if they still held sadness. A small spark of hope was there now, a renewed strength that there was in fact a way to help Scott. Tomorrow she would have a talk with Dr. Hawks.
"Thank you Alec very much for shearing this information with me. It's helped a great deal even if nothing has come of it yet. I'll make sure Reese knows you helped me today. Thank you so much once again Alec. It means a lot."
Giving a nod to Rick Hope would talk with him more later but for now she wanted to head to where her stuff was to write a few things down before she forgot and than see if Reese was still in to chat with.
Almost running into Mick as he opened the door BJ skidded to a halt trying to catch his breath the best he could. Just standing there BJ leans an arm against Mick still catching his breath till finally he stands up straght again.
"I...was following Dylan..and he went into Angel's office and he took something from her cabinet. I sawed him, he put it in his pocket. And than he tried to stop me from telling you but I was to fast and slipped away before he could grab me."
BJ gives a smile to Mick as he trys to catch his breath again after his long explantion combined with still trying to breath from running.
Heartache
Alec cocks his head a little and straightens up, sensing that this wasn't a normal interrogation happening. Hope was serious and she was hurting... badly. As cold as he could be, even Alec could see that in her eyes.
Hearing about Scott, one of his eyebrows lifts. Hope already knew a lot about the assimilation process, apparently. Most likely the information had come from Carson - at least that was what seemed logical. It appeared Scott was now having problems. "Not doing well, huh? You mean he finally lost it."
Rick's eyes narrow, feeling bad for Hope having to go through this, and upset with Alec for the cool tone with which he spoke. His emotions were strong enough for him to step in, whether Hope had started this conversation or not. "Scott was admitted to a... facility... to get help."
"So he did go crazy."
Rick frowns, anger flashing in his eyes and he gives Hope a sidelong glance, controlling his temper. "No, that's not what I said. He's just having trouble dealing with what happened to him, like Hope said."
"Yeah." Alec nods, ignoring Rick's irritation. "I'd say he did pretty good for holding out this long."
The casual response makes Rick just as curious as upset. "What are you talking about? Why would you say that?"
"Well, because." Alec shrugs. "Seventy-five percent of the chosen few to be assimilated wind up in the nuthouse." Seeing the blank expression on Rick's face, he lifts his eyebrows and looks to Hope as well. "Ahh... I bet Carson didn't know that, did he? He had enough clearance to know the process but I bet he was never informed of what happened to those unfortunate souls once they were let loose."
Rick wanted to lose his temper with Alec's matter-of-fact attitude. The man cared nothing about people, and Scott was Rick's friend. He held his anger at bay though, sacrificing his satisfaction by realizing that this might be an opportunity to understand more, and if so, it might be a doorway to helping Scott. He moves closer to Hope, wanting to be in on this. He'd dealt with Scott's medical care after this whole fiasco and he wanted to know more. Grabbing a chair, he sits near the bed and motions for Hope to do the same. He sensed this would not be a quick conversation. "What do you mean most end up in a nuthouse?"
Alec shrugs again. He didn't mind sharing this information. That's what he'd agreed upon - sharing his knowledge. He was just surprised they didn't already know this. "Hope, you're right. The assimilation process uses part of the brain that isn't normally used - at least not in the average person." He glances to her again, sensing that she had different motives for wanting to know this. Rick was looking at it from a medical standpoint, while she was looking at it from a psychological standpoint. "So first off, it's hard to maintain and control the data anyway. After that, it's the own recognition of the data that makes people go mad. See, all that information gets fed into the host... then they're presented with triggers to activate the information so that they can recognize and read the data as needed. The problem comes when there's no control and it's enough to make any man go insane. I worked with a guy who had been assimilated and it took him quite a while to get the hang of it - he was one of the few who didn't end up falling to pieces midstream."
Rick furrows his brow, trying to understand. "What do you mean by control? The ability to retrieve data?"
"No." Alec shakes his head. "The ability to stop it unless you need it."
Rick blinks. "But... we thought it worked like a computer. Like... you couldn't retrieve the information unless it was a command."
"It is a command. But the brain doesn't know how much information to give, or even when for that matter. It receives a trigger, like Hope said, and wham, the brain presents the information, wanted or not. It's kinda like a reflex."
Reese continues to think. "Well there have been times that Scott has retrieved information fine... like when asked a question, he can answer it without having realized he knew the answer."
"That's because it was audio."
Rick shakes his head. He looks at Hope, wondering if she was following as poorly as he was. "You lost me."
"Okay..." Alec tries to explain, his eyes bouncing between Rick and Hope. "Let's say you asked Scott who was in charge of level five. He would automatically give you an answer. It's knowledge he has now that he may or may not realize he has. That's an audio trigger. His brain hears the cue, searches for the answer and retrieves it. Visual triggers are different, because there is no question and answer. The question never exists, but the answer does anyway."
Rick sighs, still not understanding.
Alec taps his hand on the mattress, trying to think of the best way to tackle the subject. "Here, I'll give you an example." Reaching to the bedside table, he retrieves a notepad and shows it to Rick. Then he puts it behind his back. "What color is the notepad I'm holding?"
"White."
"That was an audio trigger. You had a question and you were able to answer it." Being careful to not aim at Hope, Alec whips out the notepad and without warning, whacks Rick in the face with it.
Rick jumps back, bewildered. "What was that for?"
"That was a visual trigger. You had no warning that you would recognize a notepad until it hit you in the face. No question - only an answer. The answer was that it was a notepad. The only problem is, no one asked you for that answer, and you didn't ask your brain for it either. It just flew at you and became your focus."
Now Rick was beginning to understand. Like a lightbulb going on, his eyes widen. "When Scott sees people... like you... or Phinox... that's why it throws him for a loop. Because he didn't ask to retrieve that information, it just... took over." His eyes got to Hope again. "So that's why when he has seen Agency people, he gets so wound up."
"Now you got it." Alec can't help a little grin. He didn't normally like sharing information, but seeing the lights go on was just a little bit enjoyable.
"So how... can that be stopped?"
"Practice." The notepad comes flying again, once again whacking Rick in the face.
"Ow!" Again, it comes in his direction, but this time Rick is quicker, reaching out to grab Alec's wrist before getting hit.
Alec cocks his head. "You just stopped it."
Rick pauses, slowly letting Alec's wrist go. "So... the information can be blocked then."
"Not blocked, really. More like deflected. It's actually the brain's ability to override the retrieval reflex."
"And like any reflex, it's hard to overcome. Which is why so few people can do it and why seventy-five percent end up in the nuthouse... because they can't control it."
"Exactly." Alec nods. "You have this notepad coming at your face twenty-four/seven, eventually you'll go insane."
"Okay, so... why hasn't Scott been bothered before? Why did it take this long?"
Alec shrugs. "Everyone is different. If I had to guess, I'd say it was because he wasn't being bombarded all the time - just once in a while. When he'd see me, or Phinox, for example. But what other visual triggers are there? Not very many. For someone actually in Agency surroundings every day, they come into contact with visual triggers constantly - literally. Every face they see is a trigger. Every location, map, file, you name it - which is why they lose their minds so quickly. Scott... I'd say it's just now catching up with him. Among other things."
"Other things?"
"Well... from what I hear, he's pretty angry... having trouble with nightmares, that sort of thing." Alec eyes Hope again, sensing that this subject was close to her. "Right?" Receiving affirmation, he nods.
"Would gaining control help those things?" Rick asks.
"Not really. Probably the other way around. His nightmares might be providing visual triggers, which makes them all the more real to him - so even if he isn't seeing Phinox, in his dreams he's seeing other things. But... controlling the reflex isn't going to make him less angry that he was captured... or less likely to have bad dreams about being tortured. I'd have nightmares too if that were me. Those elements are connected, but not dependent on each other." His eyes drift back to Hope. "That would have to be your and the hospital's department."
Rick sits back, feeling as thought they had just gained a giant step in understanding this whole thing. "How does someone gain control?"
"Like I said... practice."
"But what does that mean?"
"For some people, nothing. Some people just aren't capable of overriding a reflex. But those that are, they need to put themselves through the routine of retrieving and deflecting. It would be like you letting me swing the notepad at you several times a day so you could work on your block."
"So you're saying that Scott needs to allow the visual triggers to take place so he can learn to block them?"
"Deflect," Alec corrects. "He'll always wind up feeling something when he sees me or Phinox or anybody else whose file he memorized. But if he can control it, it won't take over his other senses. When I swing the notepad at you, your eyes zero in on it and your brain totally focuses on that one thing to judge it, decide whether or not you're going to stop it, then command an action, passive or aggressive. Basically what you'd need to do is learn to deflect rather than stop." He prepares to swing again. "Here... don't stop me. Deflect me... redirect me." He swings.
This time instead of grabbing Alec's wrist, Rick blocks with his hand, sending the notepad sliding down his arm and away from his face.
Alec freezes where he is. "The notepad still exists. But it's not in your face. You can still focus on it and decide to discard the information that the notepad has presented, or turn and pay attention to it."
"Can someone really accomplish that? The reality of the assimilation, I mean. Is it really possible for someone to control it that precisely?"
"Surprisingly, yes." Alec nods. "I've seen it. But it's not the majority, and I don't know if Scott can do it or not. Problem is... the practice of deflecting visual triggers requires the triggers to be present. And right now, I assume Scott wants nothing to do with them. But him ignoring the data he has, or trying to, is only going to make things worse, because he'll never train himself, and... like most, he'll literally go insane eventually."
Rick is silent for several moments, thinking through all they had just learned. "And that's the only way? Forcing visual triggers on him in an attempt for him to gain control?"
"Unfortunately. It would be like me whacking this notepad over the head of a child. Eventually they might get the idea and be able to stop me. But would they have the strength? Who knows. It might take a year for them to have enough muscle strength... but only if they didn't give up in the meantime." Alec sighs. "The Agency is still trying to perfect their own technology. They want it to be easier so they can assimilate more people to distribute more data. Currently there really is no other answer. I will say this though... if Scott has anger issues, and issues with nightmares and dealing with the past, it's just going to make all this harder. He's got more than one thing going against him." He thinks for a few seconds. "Physical exercise helps though."
"What?"
"Exercise... how it effects and stimulates the brain. With the one partner I had, it was easier for him to exercise his mind after he went for a run or sparred or anything like that. It had something to do with the area of the brain that was being used." Alec shrugs. "It's like going for a walk to clear your head... it can kind of be scientifically backed up but can't really be explained. But it's that same principle. It doesn't guarantee anything. I'm not saying that if Scott goes for a run then practices with visual triggers that he'll automatically be able to control it. But... it might help. Body and mind work together." His eyes move to Hope again. "I'm sure that's an elementary principle to someone like you."
Rick sighs deeply, taking it all in before he gets to his feet, wandering towards his counter. "That's a lot of information."
"Yep." Alec watches him, then returns his gaze to Hope. Rick was the one with all the technical questions. It wasn't surprising... he was the one who had dealt with Jason and Katie's oddities, along with Scott. It was only natural he was curious. But unless Alec had pegged Hope wrong, she was even more curious than Rick - it was only her reasoning that varied. "I know you want to believe Scott's going to be okay," he comments. "But don't set your heart on it. You might be in for more heartache than you know."
"Don't you-" Dylan moves towards the door, missing BJ as the boy takes off. "You little rat," he growls. Oh, well. Who knew what he would tell Mick? If the pills couldn't be found, then what proof was there?
Looking both ways, he heads towards his bunk at a brisk pace.
Mick looks out the office window and chuckles, seeing BJ running as fast as his short legs would carry him. "Now that's a boy in a hurry."
Getting up from his chair, he opens the door for his son and grins, making him slow down. "Whoa there, Bud. You in a race?"
Hearing about Scott, one of his eyebrows lifts. Hope already knew a lot about the assimilation process, apparently. Most likely the information had come from Carson - at least that was what seemed logical. It appeared Scott was now having problems. "Not doing well, huh? You mean he finally lost it."
Rick's eyes narrow, feeling bad for Hope having to go through this, and upset with Alec for the cool tone with which he spoke. His emotions were strong enough for him to step in, whether Hope had started this conversation or not. "Scott was admitted to a... facility... to get help."
"So he did go crazy."
Rick frowns, anger flashing in his eyes and he gives Hope a sidelong glance, controlling his temper. "No, that's not what I said. He's just having trouble dealing with what happened to him, like Hope said."
"Yeah." Alec nods, ignoring Rick's irritation. "I'd say he did pretty good for holding out this long."
The casual response makes Rick just as curious as upset. "What are you talking about? Why would you say that?"
"Well, because." Alec shrugs. "Seventy-five percent of the chosen few to be assimilated wind up in the nuthouse." Seeing the blank expression on Rick's face, he lifts his eyebrows and looks to Hope as well. "Ahh... I bet Carson didn't know that, did he? He had enough clearance to know the process but I bet he was never informed of what happened to those unfortunate souls once they were let loose."
Rick wanted to lose his temper with Alec's matter-of-fact attitude. The man cared nothing about people, and Scott was Rick's friend. He held his anger at bay though, sacrificing his satisfaction by realizing that this might be an opportunity to understand more, and if so, it might be a doorway to helping Scott. He moves closer to Hope, wanting to be in on this. He'd dealt with Scott's medical care after this whole fiasco and he wanted to know more. Grabbing a chair, he sits near the bed and motions for Hope to do the same. He sensed this would not be a quick conversation. "What do you mean most end up in a nuthouse?"
Alec shrugs again. He didn't mind sharing this information. That's what he'd agreed upon - sharing his knowledge. He was just surprised they didn't already know this. "Hope, you're right. The assimilation process uses part of the brain that isn't normally used - at least not in the average person." He glances to her again, sensing that she had different motives for wanting to know this. Rick was looking at it from a medical standpoint, while she was looking at it from a psychological standpoint. "So first off, it's hard to maintain and control the data anyway. After that, it's the own recognition of the data that makes people go mad. See, all that information gets fed into the host... then they're presented with triggers to activate the information so that they can recognize and read the data as needed. The problem comes when there's no control and it's enough to make any man go insane. I worked with a guy who had been assimilated and it took him quite a while to get the hang of it - he was one of the few who didn't end up falling to pieces midstream."
Rick furrows his brow, trying to understand. "What do you mean by control? The ability to retrieve data?"
"No." Alec shakes his head. "The ability to stop it unless you need it."
Rick blinks. "But... we thought it worked like a computer. Like... you couldn't retrieve the information unless it was a command."
"It is a command. But the brain doesn't know how much information to give, or even when for that matter. It receives a trigger, like Hope said, and wham, the brain presents the information, wanted or not. It's kinda like a reflex."
Reese continues to think. "Well there have been times that Scott has retrieved information fine... like when asked a question, he can answer it without having realized he knew the answer."
"That's because it was audio."
Rick shakes his head. He looks at Hope, wondering if she was following as poorly as he was. "You lost me."
"Okay..." Alec tries to explain, his eyes bouncing between Rick and Hope. "Let's say you asked Scott who was in charge of level five. He would automatically give you an answer. It's knowledge he has now that he may or may not realize he has. That's an audio trigger. His brain hears the cue, searches for the answer and retrieves it. Visual triggers are different, because there is no question and answer. The question never exists, but the answer does anyway."
Rick sighs, still not understanding.
Alec taps his hand on the mattress, trying to think of the best way to tackle the subject. "Here, I'll give you an example." Reaching to the bedside table, he retrieves a notepad and shows it to Rick. Then he puts it behind his back. "What color is the notepad I'm holding?"
"White."
"That was an audio trigger. You had a question and you were able to answer it." Being careful to not aim at Hope, Alec whips out the notepad and without warning, whacks Rick in the face with it.
Rick jumps back, bewildered. "What was that for?"
"That was a visual trigger. You had no warning that you would recognize a notepad until it hit you in the face. No question - only an answer. The answer was that it was a notepad. The only problem is, no one asked you for that answer, and you didn't ask your brain for it either. It just flew at you and became your focus."
Now Rick was beginning to understand. Like a lightbulb going on, his eyes widen. "When Scott sees people... like you... or Phinox... that's why it throws him for a loop. Because he didn't ask to retrieve that information, it just... took over." His eyes got to Hope again. "So that's why when he has seen Agency people, he gets so wound up."
"Now you got it." Alec can't help a little grin. He didn't normally like sharing information, but seeing the lights go on was just a little bit enjoyable.
"So how... can that be stopped?"
"Practice." The notepad comes flying again, once again whacking Rick in the face.
"Ow!" Again, it comes in his direction, but this time Rick is quicker, reaching out to grab Alec's wrist before getting hit.
Alec cocks his head. "You just stopped it."
Rick pauses, slowly letting Alec's wrist go. "So... the information can be blocked then."
"Not blocked, really. More like deflected. It's actually the brain's ability to override the retrieval reflex."
"And like any reflex, it's hard to overcome. Which is why so few people can do it and why seventy-five percent end up in the nuthouse... because they can't control it."
"Exactly." Alec nods. "You have this notepad coming at your face twenty-four/seven, eventually you'll go insane."
"Okay, so... why hasn't Scott been bothered before? Why did it take this long?"
Alec shrugs. "Everyone is different. If I had to guess, I'd say it was because he wasn't being bombarded all the time - just once in a while. When he'd see me, or Phinox, for example. But what other visual triggers are there? Not very many. For someone actually in Agency surroundings every day, they come into contact with visual triggers constantly - literally. Every face they see is a trigger. Every location, map, file, you name it - which is why they lose their minds so quickly. Scott... I'd say it's just now catching up with him. Among other things."
"Other things?"
"Well... from what I hear, he's pretty angry... having trouble with nightmares, that sort of thing." Alec eyes Hope again, sensing that this subject was close to her. "Right?" Receiving affirmation, he nods.
"Would gaining control help those things?" Rick asks.
"Not really. Probably the other way around. His nightmares might be providing visual triggers, which makes them all the more real to him - so even if he isn't seeing Phinox, in his dreams he's seeing other things. But... controlling the reflex isn't going to make him less angry that he was captured... or less likely to have bad dreams about being tortured. I'd have nightmares too if that were me. Those elements are connected, but not dependent on each other." His eyes drift back to Hope. "That would have to be your and the hospital's department."
Rick sits back, feeling as thought they had just gained a giant step in understanding this whole thing. "How does someone gain control?"
"Like I said... practice."
"But what does that mean?"
"For some people, nothing. Some people just aren't capable of overriding a reflex. But those that are, they need to put themselves through the routine of retrieving and deflecting. It would be like you letting me swing the notepad at you several times a day so you could work on your block."
"So you're saying that Scott needs to allow the visual triggers to take place so he can learn to block them?"
"Deflect," Alec corrects. "He'll always wind up feeling something when he sees me or Phinox or anybody else whose file he memorized. But if he can control it, it won't take over his other senses. When I swing the notepad at you, your eyes zero in on it and your brain totally focuses on that one thing to judge it, decide whether or not you're going to stop it, then command an action, passive or aggressive. Basically what you'd need to do is learn to deflect rather than stop." He prepares to swing again. "Here... don't stop me. Deflect me... redirect me." He swings.
This time instead of grabbing Alec's wrist, Rick blocks with his hand, sending the notepad sliding down his arm and away from his face.
Alec freezes where he is. "The notepad still exists. But it's not in your face. You can still focus on it and decide to discard the information that the notepad has presented, or turn and pay attention to it."
"Can someone really accomplish that? The reality of the assimilation, I mean. Is it really possible for someone to control it that precisely?"
"Surprisingly, yes." Alec nods. "I've seen it. But it's not the majority, and I don't know if Scott can do it or not. Problem is... the practice of deflecting visual triggers requires the triggers to be present. And right now, I assume Scott wants nothing to do with them. But him ignoring the data he has, or trying to, is only going to make things worse, because he'll never train himself, and... like most, he'll literally go insane eventually."
Rick is silent for several moments, thinking through all they had just learned. "And that's the only way? Forcing visual triggers on him in an attempt for him to gain control?"
"Unfortunately. It would be like me whacking this notepad over the head of a child. Eventually they might get the idea and be able to stop me. But would they have the strength? Who knows. It might take a year for them to have enough muscle strength... but only if they didn't give up in the meantime." Alec sighs. "The Agency is still trying to perfect their own technology. They want it to be easier so they can assimilate more people to distribute more data. Currently there really is no other answer. I will say this though... if Scott has anger issues, and issues with nightmares and dealing with the past, it's just going to make all this harder. He's got more than one thing going against him." He thinks for a few seconds. "Physical exercise helps though."
"What?"
"Exercise... how it effects and stimulates the brain. With the one partner I had, it was easier for him to exercise his mind after he went for a run or sparred or anything like that. It had something to do with the area of the brain that was being used." Alec shrugs. "It's like going for a walk to clear your head... it can kind of be scientifically backed up but can't really be explained. But it's that same principle. It doesn't guarantee anything. I'm not saying that if Scott goes for a run then practices with visual triggers that he'll automatically be able to control it. But... it might help. Body and mind work together." His eyes move to Hope again. "I'm sure that's an elementary principle to someone like you."
Rick sighs deeply, taking it all in before he gets to his feet, wandering towards his counter. "That's a lot of information."
"Yep." Alec watches him, then returns his gaze to Hope. Rick was the one with all the technical questions. It wasn't surprising... he was the one who had dealt with Jason and Katie's oddities, along with Scott. It was only natural he was curious. But unless Alec had pegged Hope wrong, she was even more curious than Rick - it was only her reasoning that varied. "I know you want to believe Scott's going to be okay," he comments. "But don't set your heart on it. You might be in for more heartache than you know."
"Don't you-" Dylan moves towards the door, missing BJ as the boy takes off. "You little rat," he growls. Oh, well. Who knew what he would tell Mick? If the pills couldn't be found, then what proof was there?
Looking both ways, he heads towards his bunk at a brisk pace.
Mick looks out the office window and chuckles, seeing BJ running as fast as his short legs would carry him. "Now that's a boy in a hurry."
Getting up from his chair, he opens the door for his son and grins, making him slow down. "Whoa there, Bud. You in a race?"
Understand
Coming over to Alec Hope gives a soft smile feeling bad she had woke Alec. If she had known he was sleeping she would have come back another time but what was done was done she might as well ask now.
"Hey Alec. Sorry to bother you I promise this wont take long I was just hoping you could help me."
Shifting just a little and trying to get her thoughts together Hope trys to put everything together in her mind before finally asking Alec. Her own mind was swimming with so much information it was trying to process along with the hurt she was dealing with she just wanted to get what to ask right.
"My friend you might remember him Scott, He went through an assilamation with the Agency and right now he's not doing well at all with all the information running through his mind. My guess would be this information is place in the brain in areas not normally used, than it triggered by acts, words and that itself brings the information out. Is there anyway you can tell us more about the process? I'd like to understand it more."
Hope it want to understand it. Maybe if she did than she would be able to find an answer to getting Scott help. If she had no idea about his condition than how could she find the way to fix it. Understanding was really everything, and if it helped her with Scott than that was really all that mattered.
Giving a sigh and a small nod of his head Dalton had been worried that was going to be her answer. He missed his little buddy and the fun they always had. He really had thought Scott was going to be ok and now he wondered if he had overlooked the signs maybe his friend had given off. Dalton new it was not his fault but it still hurt.
"Well if you end up going to see him let me know, I'd like to go an see him too. That way we both wont have to do it alone."
Dalton gives a smile to Susanne. He wouldn't mind having her along. Hospitals were not his strong point and he hated them. So having someone to go with would be a lot better than going alone.
Squinting his little eyes at Dylan and looking back inside to the cabinets that were open BJ doesn't move but finally slowly walks to the door again stopping to look up at Dylan again.
"You are two doin sometin I saw you put that in your pocket. Dad will be mad when he finds out you took those!"
Going out the door BJ makes his way down the steps only to break into a run as he gets to the bottom. Heading across the yard he aims for the office where he new Mick and Rosetta would be.
"Hey Alec. Sorry to bother you I promise this wont take long I was just hoping you could help me."
Shifting just a little and trying to get her thoughts together Hope trys to put everything together in her mind before finally asking Alec. Her own mind was swimming with so much information it was trying to process along with the hurt she was dealing with she just wanted to get what to ask right.
"My friend you might remember him Scott, He went through an assilamation with the Agency and right now he's not doing well at all with all the information running through his mind. My guess would be this information is place in the brain in areas not normally used, than it triggered by acts, words and that itself brings the information out. Is there anyway you can tell us more about the process? I'd like to understand it more."
Hope it want to understand it. Maybe if she did than she would be able to find an answer to getting Scott help. If she had no idea about his condition than how could she find the way to fix it. Understanding was really everything, and if it helped her with Scott than that was really all that mattered.
Giving a sigh and a small nod of his head Dalton had been worried that was going to be her answer. He missed his little buddy and the fun they always had. He really had thought Scott was going to be ok and now he wondered if he had overlooked the signs maybe his friend had given off. Dalton new it was not his fault but it still hurt.
"Well if you end up going to see him let me know, I'd like to go an see him too. That way we both wont have to do it alone."
Dalton gives a smile to Susanne. He wouldn't mind having her along. Hospitals were not his strong point and he hated them. So having someone to go with would be a lot better than going alone.
Squinting his little eyes at Dylan and looking back inside to the cabinets that were open BJ doesn't move but finally slowly walks to the door again stopping to look up at Dylan again.
"You are two doin sometin I saw you put that in your pocket. Dad will be mad when he finds out you took those!"
Going out the door BJ makes his way down the steps only to break into a run as he gets to the bottom. Heading across the yard he aims for the office where he new Mick and Rosetta would be.
Go ahead
Rick turns to Hope, a little surprised to see her here, but welcoming her in. Hearing she wanted to speak to Alec, he lifts his eyebrows. "To be honest, I had wondered myself if he might be able to help. Felt like a shot in the dark but... yeah, you can talk to him. Don't mind if I sit in on it too, do you?"
Moving over to the bed, Alec had dozed off about twenty minutes before. "Alec?" Rick lays a hand on his shoulder. "Alec..."
Jolted from his light sleep, Alec gives a jump, ready to fight off whoever it was that was invading.
"Easy, easy." Rick takes a step back. "Are you awake enough to answer some questions?"
Alec pull himself up into a sitting position groggily and rolls his eyes. "It never ends." He eyes Hope suspiciously. "I thought we were done."
"Unfortunately, we think you might be able to help us," Rick responds dryly. He nods to Hope. "Go ahead."
Susanne sighs and shakes her head at Dalton. "Reese said.... Scott wasn't doing very well."
She looks at the chair that had been empty for over two weeks. "I miss having him around, ya know? Always gave him a bad time but..." She shrugs. "I guess I always kind of mothered him. Maybe I shouldn't have but he was just.... Scott."
Looking back to Dalton, she tries to smile. "I know he can have visitors and I thought about going up there myself but Reese said he wasn't responding all that well."
Dylan jumps, having had no idea that BJ had followed him. "Get out of here!" he hisses angrily. "I'm not doin' nothing."
Stalking towards the door, the bottle of pills slips into his pocket. "Dad'll be mad at you when he finds out you were following me again," he threatens. Getting to the front door again, he holds it open, pointing BJ outside. "Now git before I wallup you myself."
Moving over to the bed, Alec had dozed off about twenty minutes before. "Alec?" Rick lays a hand on his shoulder. "Alec..."
Jolted from his light sleep, Alec gives a jump, ready to fight off whoever it was that was invading.
"Easy, easy." Rick takes a step back. "Are you awake enough to answer some questions?"
Alec pull himself up into a sitting position groggily and rolls his eyes. "It never ends." He eyes Hope suspiciously. "I thought we were done."
"Unfortunately, we think you might be able to help us," Rick responds dryly. He nods to Hope. "Go ahead."
Susanne sighs and shakes her head at Dalton. "Reese said.... Scott wasn't doing very well."
She looks at the chair that had been empty for over two weeks. "I miss having him around, ya know? Always gave him a bad time but..." She shrugs. "I guess I always kind of mothered him. Maybe I shouldn't have but he was just.... Scott."
Looking back to Dalton, she tries to smile. "I know he can have visitors and I thought about going up there myself but Reese said he wasn't responding all that well."
Dylan jumps, having had no idea that BJ had followed him. "Get out of here!" he hisses angrily. "I'm not doin' nothing."
Stalking towards the door, the bottle of pills slips into his pocket. "Dad'll be mad at you when he finds out you were following me again," he threatens. Getting to the front door again, he holds it open, pointing BJ outside. "Now git before I wallup you myself."
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