Letting Hope do the talking, Kip continues his quick walking pace, still incredibly nervous. His hands shift from his pockets to fingers fidgeting, arms folded, arms swinging, fiddling with a twig then back to the pockets. But what Hope said did interest his ears. She'd been sick? She gave God the credit for her healing? That was pretty cool. Her explanation of being a "friend" and not a "counselor" kinda sounded like something any counselor would say to try and make a patient feel better, so Kip wasn't so sure he really believed it, but Hope did seem fairly genuine and definitely nice.
As they walk alongside the small pond, Kip doesn't realize that his pace has slowed a little. "I never was too good at listening," he admits. "At least I don't think so. I guess I always talked too much since I was always getting told to shut up." He gives a quiet laugh, though it's more of a scoff. "Maybe it wasn't always that way though. I mean, before my sister died. After that, I guess I just got double the trouble since I was the only one around. Not that it was bad or anything... I mean I didn't mind... it was just the way it was... or... I mean... yeah."
Clamming up again, his eyes go back to the ground. He felt stupid and didn't even know why. His pace speeds up again then slows until he comes to a sudden halt. Spinning to face Hope, his thumbs hook into his belt loops and his eyes squint slightly to study her own. "I don't really know why Kyle thought talking to you would help me. I don't understand how talking about my screwed-up past is gonna help my future any." He wasn't trying to be stubborn, and his confused gaze proved it. His tone was not harsh - it was quiet and lost. "I don't know all that he told you but... I got beat up a lot by my dad. I don't see how that has anything to do with why I'm depressed today though, 'cause I've had a good life lately. I just..."
He sighs and shrugs lamely. "I just don't wanna waste your time."
In the kitchen and rinsing his coffee cup, Eric pauses as Stacy joins him. His eyes lock with hers, and for a moment, he is very curious about that spark deep within her gaze. What was it? What was she thinking? Why was something about that look almost luring? Every time he looked at her, he saw something more... something deeper.
Blinking, he finally turns back to what he was doing, wiping out the coffee cup with a towel. Hearing her thanks, he glances over his shoulder, a little grin returning to his lips. "I think I liked it, too."
Watching her leave, he stands alone for a few minutes before eventually going back out into the night air. He takes his time ambling to his bunkhouse, mulling over many things in his mind...
...Seven-thirty a.m. Most of the ranch was up, and chores were being started as the sun made known it was going to be a beautiful day. As ranch hands went about their morning routines, a lone horse and rider rode slowly up the path from the woods - early for anyone to have been out riding.
Eric steers the mare towards the barn, physically weary from a hard ride, but mentally refreshed. Sweat trickles down the sides of his face from under the brim of his hat. His shirt sleeves were rolled up past his elbows and dust from the trail stuck to his sweaty skin. His mount hangs her head low, and sighs, worn out from the morning exercise. She had started out resisting a workout, but after a jog through the woods and a run across several open fields, she had given in to the bit, following her rider's direction for a several-hour ride.
Coming to a halt outside the barn, Eric slowly dismounts, the saddle's leather creaking with his movement. On the ground again, he lets out a deep sigh of contentment before rubbing his sore leg a little to get it loosened up. It had been a while since he'd been in the saddle - he would probably need a nice hot bath tonight so he didn't regret this ride too much tomorrow. The mare, thankful for the lifted weight, rests her head against his shoulder and starts to rub away the itchiness from her bridle.
Eric chuckles and with gentle hands makes her stop. "Naw, naw... not while you still got that bridle on. You're gonna tear up my shirt."
She sighs again but relents, willing to do whatever asked.
"Little early for a ride, don't ya think?"
Eric turns to see Jeff, and he shrugs before tilting his hat back a bit on his head. "Not when you've been up all night."
Jeff quirks an eyebrow, taking off his gloves from the work he'd been doing. "All night?"
"I guess I got maybe an hour of sleep when I dozed once." Eric loosens the saddle's girth and gives the mare's neck a pat. "Funny though... I ain't all that tired." He glances back to his brother again. "Look, I'm... sorry about yesterday."
Jeff purses his lips, not really sure what had changed, but not unwilling to offer forgiveness. "Forget it. I probably shouldn't have been razzing you like I was anyway." He gestures to the horse, finding an excuse to change the subject. "Need any help? Everything in the barn is under control and I'm just getting in the way."
Eric knew that meant probably Jeff had overexerted himself and just needed a short break, but he doesn't draw attention to it. "Naw... I just wanna finish this up before breakfast. Unless I missed it."
"Nope. I think they're running late in the kitchen anyway."
"Why? Luke tryin' to cook again?"
Jeff laughs, not only finding the comment funny, but also a bit surprised to receive the humor coming from his brother today. "I didn't see smoke, so I don't think so."
Eric grins, turning back to the horse to unbuckle the breast collar. "Alright. I'll see ya in a bit." Left alone again, he slowly leads the mare nearer the water hydrant. Sliding the saddle and blanket off her back, he sets it down a few steps away, then returns, running a hand over her sweaty coat. The damp scent fills his nostrils and the saltiness from the sweat could be tasted on his lips. Leaning on the mare for just a moment or two, he's taken back years, when horses were his life. He'd had a lot of those memories come up this morning... he'd had a lot of different things flow through his mind. At a time when his life felt as though it had spun out of control, there was a stillness now, as if he had been flung like a rag doll to come to an abrupt halt at a fork in the road. One road allowed him to wallow in his misery and stay retreated in his own little world. And one road... well, he wasn't sure what that road held - it was lost in a strange veil of fog. But there was something there that called to him... something that said the unknown wasn't something to be feared. There was a lot of living left to do, no matter the past.
Being nudged by the mare's nose brings Eric back to attention and he shakes his head to get himself back on track. "Yeah, yeah, I'm coming." Stepping up to the water hydrant, he looks down at himself then back at the horse. "I ain't lookin' much better than you, am I?" Rolling his eyes, he takes off his hat and tosses it nearer the barn, then unbuttons his shirt, throwing it in the same direction.
Turning on the water and grabbing the hose, he starts around the mare's head then works down her neck and across her back, spraying off all of the sweat and grime. With a light breeze, it was hard to stay out of the water's way and Eric ends up wet as well, but he didn't mind - the coolness felt good. It felt so good, in fact, that once the mare was completely hosed off, he puts himself under the hose, too. Gasping as the cold water hits him, he drenches his head and upper body before shutting off the water and shaking out his hair. As soon as he does, the mare shakes all over too, making Eric laugh. Getting her scraped off doesn't take long, and within a few minutes, he's finally letting her loose in the pasture where she finds a nice grassy spot to roll before joining the other horses for breakfast. He leans on the fence and watcher her for a few minutes before deciding he better get a move on if he really did want breakfast.
Collecting the discarded tack, Eric looks down at his wet self and smirks. He probably needed a real shower before letting everybody else see him. Grabbing the bridle and hefting up the saddle over his shoulder, he heads into the barn. Once in the tack room, he puts everything away, running a hand through his damp hair as he make sure he's gotten everything. Then he remembers his shirt and hat. Swinging out of the tack room, he aims down the barn aisle again. Coming to the intersection, his eyes were distracted by watching some of the others heading to the mess hall, and he rounds the corner without caution.
Watching Ryan leave, Tal tries not to be nervous about it. Alec's presence really shouldn't bother him this much... but it did. He wasn't sure what he was worried about... maybe he just didn't want to see Ryan caught in the middle of anything. He glances over to Eli, who returns to sit down in his chair again.
Eli catches his eye and shrugs. What could he say? He'd like to tell Alec to take a hike, but this was Ryan's decision. He didn't want anything to do with Alec and was a tad bit angry he'd shown up. But Ryan could handle herself.
Out in the hall, Alec takes a short step back, making room for Ryan to join him. His stomach does a little flipflop, unused to feeling so awkward around her. But the eyes that he'd seen filled with warmth and life were now filled with something else... something harder... something colder... something that warned him not to advance too quickly. He'd broken her trust - he knew that. But surely there was a way to get it back. He'd won her over once - he could do it again.
A little grin forms at her question. "Why else would I come but to see you?" He cocks his head and studies her for several moments. Something was very different, and though he didn't let it show, it made him somewhat nervous.
"Look, um..." He might as well just jump right in. He had a feeling Ryan wasn't in the mood for chit-chat. "I know you know about everything that happened with me and I know I said some mean things to you." He sighs. "But I'm not in prison on account of my reasons for going off with the Agency in the first place."
He pauses and looks into Ryan's eyes again. "If I hadn't gone with them, people would have died... you would have been hurt... and I didn't want to see that happen. I did some stupid things, I'll admit, but I never set out to turn my back on the good guys... or to hurt you." He bites his lower lip. "That's the short version, but the point is, I'm sorry for letting you think I didn't care. I'm trying to get back on my feet and I've got a lot of stupid rules to follow and a lot of dumb things I gotta do, but at least I'm not behind bars." His eyes drift downward to his ankle where his jeans hid the bracelet that was sure to be his demise. He looks up again.
"I guess I just... I guess I just thought maybe you and I could... start over or something."
His hand reaches out to brush her cheek gently. This had to work... this had to. If he could just say the right things and convince her he was sincere. He missed her so much and just wanted her back in his life. "Ever since that first time you picked me up, you were the only thing that ever made sense to me." His tone had grown softer... quieter. "Can I have another chance? Can we start over?"
Scott had known deep down that his sister forgave him, but hearing it again was reassuring. His shoulders drop a little, relieved at her response. He wouldn't have blamed her if she'd turned him away. But it would have hurt. He'd missed his sister... a lot.
Having Sapphire offer to skip a date with Gage to have lunch with him instead, Scott eyes her with a bit of surprise. He wasn't surprised to know the two were still dating, but he was surprised that his sister would choose lunch with him over her boyfriend. "Um... yeah... yeah, sure." He wasn't hungry - he'd forgotten it was lunchtime. But he was never hungry, so that was nothing new.
"We can go out somewhere... that's okay. It, um..." He bites his lip. "I mean..." His face reddens slightly. "I still sorta get nervous around people, but it's not as bad as it was. Kinda figured out how not to freak out when I remember stuff." He forces a small smile. "Justin said I should get out and try to... um... just get out more." A soft little laugh surfaces. "But I guess that's nothing new."
...A while later, Scott sat across from Sapphire in a booth at the little fast food restaurant. It wasn't a busy day - a fact he appreciated. He did feel a bit awkward though. It had been a long time since he'd been out in public, and Justin had been right - it wasn't easy. But at least he was with his sister. That made it a little better.
Running a french fry through some ketchup, he looks at the barely-half-eaten burger and the rest of his fries. He was trying... he really was. Meals were just... hard. He takes another bite of his french fry and looks over at Sapphire again. "So yeah... Justin will see me once a week or so for a while and I'll hafta go back to Brookshire every so often for some psych evaluations. But... but I'm a lot better than I was." He nods, feeling more confident in that fact than he had in a very long time.
"So... how are things with you?" The question seemed so trite and he offers a sheepish sort of grin. "Some days it feels like I saw you yesterday... but I know it's been a lifetime ago."
After JT gets changed into his casual clothes, he makes a beeline for Gunner, insisting that he help finish setting up the tents, gathering firewood or anything he could think of... mainly to keep himself busy enough that he didn't embarrass himself with Amanda again.
It was surprising that there was no further argument from the two doctors that they had been kidnapped. But perhaps they were silently glad that someone had finally forced them to take some time off. The afternoon turns into early evening, which turns into sunset. The short time was almost entirely filled with setting up camp, making sure all the provisions were where they were supposed to be, and scouting out a few trails in case anyone wanted to hike the next day. At one point, neither Gunner or JT could be found, but soon they reappeared, just in time to help with a supper of hotdogs and baked beans over an open fire.
The fire was glowing warm, the stars were out, and conversation was light. JT was settled on a log with a cup of coffee in hand, leaning his elbows on his knees as he listened to Gunner, who had volunteered a story in answer to JT's question about why he'd had a scar on his bottom... No one really knew how the subject had come up, but once Gunner had said it, it was free game and he wasn't going to be allowed to go to bed without telling them about it.
"So here we were, Conrad and me patrolling the street. We were mad enough the way it was being put on patrol anyway, then we hear a call about some hotshot burglar who ripped off this gas station only a few blocks from where we were. Not to be outdone, we decided we'd be first on the scene."
Gunner smirks a little at the memory. He sits on the ground, using a log as a backrest and Bree's legs as armrests as she sat behind him on the log. His eyes flitted back and forth between JT and Amanda who was - unfortunately, as Gunner and Bree would have it - sitting several feet from him. "Neither one of us were being too smart that day, and we wound up in a car chase. Mind you, it was rush hour traffic. Here Con was behind the wheel and I was shouting, 'Left! Right! Left!' He was missing cars by inches - horn honking, siren blaring... I thought I was gonna have to change my shorts - if I could pry my fingers from the dashboard first."
By now, JT was starting to laugh, and Gunner was getting a twinkle in his eye, intensified by the glowing fire. "So we chased down this maniac to the far side of town where he ran up over the curb, hit a fire hydrant and created our own personal Old Faithful right there on the street. We woulda charged onlookers if we woulda had time. Anyway, Con was so close behind him that we got the cruiser washed for free. Would have been a bonus when reporting to the chief except for the dent in the bumper we got for rearending the guy. At the same time, I discovered I really could fit on top of the dashboard, squished between vinyl and the windshield. If I'd been a contortionist, it wouldn't have been so bad, but Con just left me there, waving my hands like some upturned turtle, calling, 'Help! Help!'
Gunner tries not to laugh as he demonstrates his cries for help, his hands flailing and his arms bumping Bree's legs. It was a good thing his mug was empty of hot cocoa - otherwise it would have gone everywhere. JT tries not to interrupt with laughing as Gunner continues. "We finally ended up on foot, running after this guy pellmell down the sidewalk. So there's Con, the giant, and me in toe, two uniformed bafoons sweating like you wouldn't believe. Anybody coulda followed us just by tracking our trail of sweat. Well, the guy took off inside a building, apparently deciding that a good escape would be the stairs. Now why anyone ever thinks that going up is a good escape route, I'll never know, but that's what this guy did. Con and I were already winded, but instead of calling for backup or actually using our heads and just waiting at the bottom for the guy to come out, we go huffing and puffing up three flights of stairs. By the time we reached the third level, Con was ready to blow the guy's brains out just for the trouble, but thankfully there hadn't been any good angles."
Gunner pauses, swallowing a chuckle as his eyes start to glaze over from the effort it took not to laugh. It was bad enough remembering the hilarity of the story, but seeing JT about ready to burst made it even harder. "So we get up to that third floor and I'm ready for anything. I barge in there without even looking, and dive. My hands wrapped around that guy's ankles and brought him down on the floor, his face smacking so hard he broke his nose. I don't know who he was, but somehow he had the nerve to fight me off and here we were rolling around on the floor having a great time, and would you believe I look over and there's Con, watching the whole thing with his hands on his hips and a stupid grin on his face. He was enjoying watching me take a beating! So I yell at him, I say, 'Conrad, get your lazy behind over here and help me!' That was a mistake."
JT puts a hand over his mouth as he tries not to interrupt the story. He dares not look at Bree, or Amanda, lest he burst out laughing.
"So yeah, here's Con," Gunner continues, "ten feet tall and he comes and instead of just subduing the guy, he yanks him up from the floor and puts him in a bearhug. Thing was, the guy had one good kick left in him, and he decides to use it right when I got to my feet. His feet nailed me in the gut. I go reeling backward, and would you know, there's a window right behind me."
He gestures with his arms. "Yeah, you know what happened. I went back, went right through the dang thing, and down." He whistles like a dropped bomb. "I never thought it could take so long to get to the ground, but I swear it was a lifetime. Fortunately, there was this crappy little wooden shack some hobo had put together in the alley. It served to break my fall, but I still got the wind knocked out of me. I don't know what happened the next ten minutes, but when I looked up again, there was Con looking down on me saying, 'Hey, you alive?' 'Of course I'm not!' I shouted, 'I just fell from a window!' All he did was grin and get me to my feet. That's when I started jumping around like a madman, yelling at Con to get that thing off of me."
Finally, a chuckle slips out and Gunner has to take a moment to regain his composure. "Con said, 'What are you talking about?' I yelled at him, still hopping around, tripping over the debris from my skydiving adventure, 'I got a pitbull on my butt!' Boy howdy, it's what it felt like, too. Con grabbed me, turned me around, and the big clown started laughing at me. I was in pain, and all he could do was laugh!"
That was it. JT was in stitches and he has to set down his coffee mug before wiping tears of suppressed laughter from his eyes. "What was it?"
Gunner leans forward, his face red with silly sheepishness, made even redder by the firelight. "I had splinters this long sticking out of my backside!" He demonstrates several inches. "What do you say when the paramedics arrive? 'No, no one got shot, I jut got a load of wood in my butt'? 'Leave your scalpel but bring your chainsaw'?"
JT holds his sides as he laughs. "What did you do?"
"I had to have them dang splinters surgically removed. Couldn't sit for a week and carried around one of them ridiculous doughnut pillow things. When people asked me why I was always standing, I told them I had a rare medical condition called splintitis. Believe it or not, I had some folks fooled." Gunner shakes his head as a laugh slips out. "Yeah... those were the days."
JT settles his laughter and finally glances over to Amanda. He'd been tempted several times to sit closer to her, but didn't dare as the two "youngsters" looked on. "Next time I want to ask Gunner about his past, remind me not to, will you? I think I've just been given too much information."
Gunner laughs. "You shoulda known better before tonight." He scoots further down and leans back, his head resting on Bree's leg now. Craning his neck, he looks up at her. "Didn't you tell him not to ask when I say weird things?"
"You don't need to go anywhere," Rick assures, reaching over to pat Katie's hand. "We're trying to set up a neutral location to trade off the cure for the information. If the Agency agrees, they'll check out the data while we're together and I'll check out the cure before we part. Then I'll come back and we'll start whatever it is we need to start. I think it will be a series of shots."
Standing up, Rick nods to the door. "I do need to go and get this rolling. I... know even though the answer seemed obvious that this isn't easy for you. And I know that after it's all said and done, if everything goes as planned, things will be different. Most people won't realize the sacrifice you've made by letting the connection with Jason go, but... I think I have an idea, and I'm proud of you."
And while Rick goes to make more phone calls to the Agency and inform Cindy and Derek of what was going on, Jason lies still and quiet in the infirmary. His breathing was slow and quiet - giving the false impression that all was well. Inside, his body fought its toughest battle yet, unaware that when rallied, he would awaken to a much different world.
Wyatt purses his lips and leans back in his chair thoughtfully as Nate talks. His last comment though, makes him look up and smirk. "I guess I can sacrifice brawn for brain." He rolls his eyes. "Well... the only thing I can really think of to get the drop on anybody is a sniper. I'm thinking tranqu darts though - no blood and we don't get taken in for murder."
He pauses, the wheels turning in his mind. "They probably won't have more than three or four people, I'd figure. Once you've got a hand on Destiny and head back for the car, bam - one, two, three, four - they won't know what hit them. Chance will be left standing and obviously he'll come with us rather than stick around for the bums to wake up and take him to be tortured."
He knew it was easier said than done, but that was the gist of his thinking. The next question would be who the sniper would be, and it was a question that didn't need to be voiced. "I'm thinking Con. He hasn't been in the field much lately, but he's the best we got and I know he'd help and keep his mouth shut. And Dalton... we'll need him here as planned, with his eyes on the satellite with some heat sensors so he can tell Con where his targets are. We'll also need to smuggle out some night gear for Con so he can see what's going on and shoots the bad guys and not you. I wouldn't want to lug your heavy carcass back to base."
A new little grin surfaces. TJY had been busy lately, but most of their work had been small cases surrounded by more paperwork than anything. Planning something like this, whether approved by Reese or not, got the blood pumping again. Wyatt shrugs. "That's just one idea."
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