11/16/11

Awake

Eli grins at his sister and shakes his head, watching her go to meet the winner of the race. She was a tough one and he was proud of her.


The newcomer slides out of his car, seeming to enjoy all of the attention he was getting - especially from the lady spectators. Leaned back against his car with one arm slung around one of said women, he cocks his head as Ryan approaches. Though people continued to talk to him, he ignores them, giving this prize winner his full attention.

Her compliment lifts his eyebrows and a grin turns up the corner of his mouth. Retrieving his arm from the other woman, he extends his hand to accept the shake, gripping Ryan's hand firmly while respect lingered in his eyes. "Thanks and... I guess a few sore pockets isn't all bad as long as they don't string me up for it."

Letting go of her hand, he tosses her a wink. His grin remains. "I'm Hunter Maxwell. You're a tougher driver than I thought. Next time I might place my own bet on you since you'll be ready for me."

"You'll knock 'em dead again," a nearby guy interrupts. "You beat 'em once, you got 'em scared. Apparently not even McKade's perfect."

Hunter's eyes remain on Ryan and he studies her even when he responds to the other man. "Nobody's perfect. That's why they call it gambling." His gaze finally swings over to him. "I'm guessing you've got one of those sore pockets."

The man just scowls and turns to walk away, making several people laugh. Hunter's grin widens and he looks back to Ryan. "Sore pockets meet sore losers."

"Are we going or what?" A woman complains, tugging on Hunter's leather jacket. "You promised me a drink."

"And me," another pipes up.

Hunter suddenly has a woman under each arm and he shrugs. "Well, I wouldn't want to be called a liar." He glances to Ryan one last time. "Nice to meet you, McKade. I'm sure we'll meet again."

As he gets back into his car, now with passengers, the crowd begins to disperse. Two hands suddenly rest on Ryan's shoulders from behind and a face comes down near enough to hers to brush cheeks. "Funny thing is," Tal murmurs in her ear, "you're always a winner in my book. And..." He pauses leaning further over her shoulder to see her face. Humor danced in his eyes. "I wouldn't want to kiss that guy, so if I'm gonna kiss the winner, it better be you."


It wasn't the state of being awake, but it didn't feel like sleep either. Or maybe it was just a dream. Whether it was simply imagined or real, a peaceful breeze seems to caress Eric's skin like a soft blanket, sending into his veins the most peaceful feeling.

The peace is suddenly disturbed by someone's shout, and all too quickly, the warm sensation is dispersed. The closing of a nearby door brings Eric's mind the rest of the way into alertness, though it takes an extra moment for his eyes to flutter open. Glancing to the right, then the left, he half expected someone to be standing there. He wasn't sure what had woken him, but for some reason, he felt as if something were suddenly missing.

Shaking it off, he yawns and stretches, letting one foot flop to the porch floor so he didn't fall out of the swing. What time was it anyway? A glance at his watch makes his eyes widen. Had he really slept for that long? He hadn't planned anything but maybe a short catnap. So much for the extra work he wanted to get done today. Oh, well. The rest felt too good for him to give himself a bad time about it.

Finally getting up, he stretches again and runs a hand through his hair. Glancing around, he sees Stacy's vehicle. She and Ashlee must be back from town. He needed to stop by his bunkhouse, then he'd head for the barn and see if Ashlee was busy with schoolwork or if she had time to help him out with some horses.

Getting into his bunkhouse, Eric cleans up a little then grabs his phone, discovering he had a voicemail waiting. He hadn't noticed it earlier. Listening to Thirteen's message, a small smile of gratefulness turns up the corner of his mouth. How he could ever allow anyone to make a bad comment about that girl was beyond him, and his guilt reappears from the back of his mind. Thirteen was one of the sweetest people he'd ever met, and her phone call proved she was also strong... probably stronger than she thought.

Lowering his phone, he recalls the night he'd shown up for Christmas. The poor girl had been so lost, and it had broken his heart to have her believe she belonged to him, especially when Trent had all but rejected her. Eric knew things were better now than they were, so he held no anger against his brother. But feeling he was now in the same category wasn't a good feeling. Next time he was in Nevada, he'd be sure to stop and try to make it up to Thirteen. It was the least he could do, and... he did want to get to know her better too. As for Katie, Eric didn't know if she'd gotten his message yet or not. He knew she going through a lot right now though, and had been told by Jeff all that was happening with her and Jason.

Sighing deeply, Eric sets aside that topic for now and heads back outside. The day must go on, even if he had slept through a better portion of it. Arriving in the barn, he looks around for Ashlee...

...It's funny how time can sometimes seem to go so slowly, and then seem to go so quickly. And when people see each other every day and function as closely-knit as the R/M ranch, even newcomers seem to have been there for just as long as everyone else. It was this fact that Dylan noticed as he sat on the porch of his bunkhouse a week later. With a schoolbook on his lap, he leaned back against the railing, his legs stretched out across the second step. He saw ranch hands come and go from the barn, his dad working several horses and giving riding lessons and Luke doing his best to keep up. He saw Clint working in the shop, the women keeping everything running behind the scenes and Angel lending a hand any time someone had a sniffle or sprained ankle. And he also saw Stacy continually making her rounds, and Ashlee who seemed fascinated with horses. It was odd... the mother and daughter hadn't been here very long, and yet even Dylan saw that it would be strange if they were suddenly not there. He didn't talk to either of them too much, but they fit in so well already that they were simply a part of the ranch. His lack of interaction didn't necessarily match what he really felt, even if he never showed it.

Another thing that Dylan had noticed was how during the last week Eric had been looking at Stacy from a distance... and vice versa. Was there something between them? It was hard to tell. It was obvious that Eric liked Ashlee - he was always letting her help him groom the horses or work in the tack room. But did he like Stacy? If Dylan had to bet money, he'd say yes. He hadn't seen the two talk to each other even once lately, other than in passing. But from his perch on the porch, he saw a lot... probably more than anyone knew.

Glancing back down to his book, Dylan sighs. He couldn't concentrate worth beans today. He was trying - he really was. He was just worn out from daily work in the barn and his mind just didn't want to do math or learn about history. Shutting his book, he sets it aside and looks around again. He needed something to do. He was sore from a morning riding lesson with Sparky and he really didn't want to get roped into cleaning out any more stalls today.

Finally getting up off the porch he wanders around for a while, looking for something to distract his mind. Seeing his dad and going the opposite direction, Dylan winds up going back behind the barn. Scuffing his feet as he goes, he kicks at a pebble then bends to pick up a twig to fiddle with. It's not until after he's already been behind the barn for a few moments that he realizes he's not alone.

Spying Ashlee under one of the trees with a book, he cocks his head. He didn't want to interrupt her if she was studying, but...would she mind? Maybe it was pure boredom that led him in her direction. Maybe it was the fact that he was making a new friend even if he didn't want to admit it. No matter the cause, he finds himself with folded arms staring down at her. "It's way too nice of a day for reading," he muses. "I gave up on it myself." Little did he know that he might actually be able to help her in her studies.


Kip felt embarrassed for crying in front of someone, let alone a stranger. Yet somehow he knew that Hope was safe... that somehow this was what was supposed to happen. He hadn't been able to talk things through with his friends - maybe he could with someone like Hope.

Her hand on his shoulder felt comforting in a way... like a reinforcement to the sound of her voice that she was still close by and hadn't left him yet. He sits for a long while, keeping his face hidden as he rests his head on his arms. Finally though, he draws in a deep breath sits up just a little. Resting his chin on his hands, he sniffs. "I feel like I'm at one end of a bridge," he muses quietly. "And what I want is at the other side. And I know all it will take is one step to get me started. And I know I'm capable of that step. And yet..." He shrugs. "I just can't seem to make my feet move."

Another sigh and he finally sits up straight and turns his head to look at Hope again. "I suppose it has something to do with talking things through with you though so I guess... I guess I'm willing to give this a shot." He bites his lip. "I promised Gram... um... Kyle's Grandma - where I live - that I'd help clean out the gutters this afternoon." He honestly didn't know how long he was supposed to be here with Hope, and though he might not realize it, his emotions had been strained enough that he was beginning to shut down. "How... I mean when... um..." He didn't even know how to ask when they'd meet again, if Hope even thought it was worth her time.


Amanda's comment throws JT for a big enough loop that he suddenly finds himself laughing. "Maybe it will at that." Was she really encouraging him to flirt more with her? She actually liked it? Did she really mean what she implied about liking his arm around her? A new tingle shot down his spine.

Still grinning, he looks down to find Amanda looking up at him. Her face was so close to his he could almost feel her breath on his skin. Her lips were inviting, drawing him even closer. He'd never been so near her eyes - never quite realized how much they sparkled. Or maybe it was just the moonlight. And for a long moment, he didn't even notice that nothing was being said.

An owl hoots from a tree nearby and JT breaks his gaze. A yawn follows. Giving Amanda a squeeze, his hand rubs her arm. "I guess I'm getting too old for everything," he comments ruefully. "Too old to flirt well, too old to stay up late..." A new chuckle slips out. "But always young at heart, right?"

Sighing, he stands up, offering Amanda a hand up too. "If I head to bed now, maybe I'll be up in time to help the vampire make breakfast in the morning. I hear he packed eggs and bacon."


Scott manages a smile, grateful for his sister's words. Whether he believed her or not, she was an encouragement, and for that he was glad Sapphire was his sister. "Thanks. I guess I might need you to say that another time or two so I don't forget."

Seeing that she'd pushed aside her plate, he assumed she was finished eating now as well. "I know you have to get back to work..." He did know that, but part of him also wanted to get back and see if Hope was there yet. And if not, he'd find a ride to his house...maybe. "Um...maybe we can do this again soon? I mean... just... talk or... something?" One lunch was hardly enough time to catch up and Scott dearly wanted to ensure he was able to spend time with those he cared about, even if it was only a few minutes at a time. Life was too short to spend it alone - that much he now knew.


Rick nods slowly as he finishes up with Jason, pulling a blanket up over his young friend's shoulders. He responds to Katie with a gentle voice. "I'm not sure about the time, but my guess would be that by tomorrow morning there will be some change. I'm hoping that within twenty-four hours, Jason will be awake."

Once finished, he turns to Katie and smiles warmly. "In about twelve hours, I'm going to give you each another shot. If there has been no change in another twelve, I'll use another dose but I'm hoping I won't have to. Now..." He moves closer and pats Katie's shoulder. "I want you to rest. And if you feel any discomfort at all - even if it's just a slight headache or a small emotional strain, I want you to tell me, okay? I'm not going anywhere until I know for certain you two are going to be alright."


Wyatt drives across town, his hands tense on the steering wheel. His adrenaline was racing through his veins, even though this should be a relatively easy mission. He listens in on Nate and Dalton, then checks his own headset. "Hey, Hulk I'm hearin' everything loud and clear. Con, you out there?" Silence. "Con?" Static. "Yo, Conrad, buddy, you on site?"

"-upid..." More static. "-eah I'm here. You there?"

Wyatt grins. "We're here. Problems?"

"No, why?"

Wyatt rolls his eyes and chuckles. "Just checking. How do things look?"

"Our party has arrived. Just two as far as I can tell, and someone in the backseat of their car - I'm assuming it's Destiny. Once you get to the parking lot, they're on the far side. I suggest going halfway across then stopping. I'd take out these numskulls now, but I can't be sure there isn't a failsafe or anything - I don't want to make a move until I know you've got Destiny safe."

"Roger that." Wyatt continues to drive. "See you shortly."



Staring at the closed elevator doors for a few minutes, Justin eventually takes up residence in the waiting room once again. He wished he had more to do. He wished he could go home and be with the dogs for a while but it was too far a drive for him to leave his mother should bad news come through. So all that was left to do was wait and doze off and wait some more...

The waiting didn't stop for several days. Jared was still in ICU and the doctor still would not say whether or not he thought Jared would live. The damage was extensive and all Justin and Lydia could receive were grim nods or shakes of the doctor's head. Staying at the hospital was wearing on both of them though because Lydia didn't want to leave, Justin stayed too. Visits from Beth helped - as did her smile and the promised cherry pie. Justin knew it was a long drive for her and he wasn't sure how he'd be able to make it all up to her, but in the back of his mind, he knew that when this was all over, he'd have to do something nice for her. A few phone calls to other friends ensured that Danitza and Zora were being taken care of, even though Justin really wanted to take care of them himself. But once again, he knew it was better to stay. So stay he did. And in the evenings, a phone call or two to Beth to touch base helped keep him going...


...Jared slowly opens his eyes to a blurry picture of white. Trying to focus, he turns his head only to be met with sharp pain all the way down his spine. Cringing, even that hurts. His face felt like he'd been smacked with a sledgehammer. Blinking and finally getting his eyes to work, he realizes that what he was staring at was a bright white ceiling. His ears pick up the sound of quiet beeping and voices nearby. Finding that everything still hurt way too much for him to even try moving, he lets his eyes roam the room. He was... in a hospital? He looks down to figure out why his legs felt numb. One was in a cast. His shoulder had been made immobile as well and he could feel a bandage on his head.

"Well, hi there."

He turns his gaze to look up at a nurse with graying hair and a smile. He opens his mouth to speak but nothing comes out until he pauses to swallow what felt like the cotton balls in his throat. "Hi," he croaks. His arm is pulled and jostled and pricked as his vitals are checked and who knew what else. "Where... where am I?"

"You're in the hospital, Honey, but you just lie right here and relax. You're in good hands."

"But... but why..." Jared tries to sit up but groans and falls back into the pillows.

"Now, now, don't try to move," the nurse chides. "The doctor will be in to see you in just a minute."

"What happened?"

"Just lie still. He'll be right in."

Left alone again, Jared's confusion was joined with fear. What was happening? Why was he here? It seemed like forever before the doctor finally arrived.

"Hey there... I'm Doctor Harvor. How do you feel?"

Jared starts to shake his head, then stops when it hurts too much. "I feel terrible."

"Mmm, I'm not surprised."

"Where am I?"

"Franklin Hospital." Dr. Harvor looks over his charts. "You were taken to the hospital in Truman then moved here for your surgery."

"Surgery?"

Dr. Harvor looks up, cocking his head, then offering a smile. "I'm sorry. How much do you remember?"

Jared thinks, but nothing comes to mind.

"Do you remember the accident?"

"Accident?" Jared swallows hard. It hurt to talk. "I.. no... I... what... what happened?"

Dr. Harvor moves closer to the bed. "You walked in front of a bus." He smiles again, trying to keep the atmosphere light, despite the seriousness of the situation. "You're lucky you survived."

"A... a bus?" That was a pretty horrific thought. Jared licks his dry lips. Why the next question comes to mind, he isn't sure. "On... purpose?"

Dr. Harvor's eyebrows rise. "Can you tell me?"

Jared thinks for a moment. "No... no, I... I don't know anything."

Dr. Harvor's concern rises. "Can you tell me your name?"

"I'm..." Jared's pulse quickens. "I... I don't know."

Dr. Harvor lays a hand on his arm. "Does the name Jared Hawks ring a bell?"

It didn't. Jared shakes his head a little.

"Hmm." Dr. Harvor purses his lips. He shines a light in Jared's eyes before checking the bandages around his head. "This hurt?"

Jared winces as a wound on the side of his head is pressed. "Yeah."

"Here?"

"Yeah. Everything hurts." Jared's mind swam with questions. "How... bad... am I hurt?"

Dr. Harvor makes a note on his chart before studying him for several long moments. It seemed better to lay all the cards on the table, rather than pamper with vague answers. "Your right shoulder was dislocated pretty severely - it's back in place now, but it will take a while to heal. All of your ribs on your right side have been broken. Several of your internal organs received trauma, but as far as I can tell, they're healing well. Your right leg has been broken in three places - two of which required surgery."

Jared begins to understand why he was lucky to be alive. It sounded as though he shouldn't be awake and talking at all. "And my head?"

"You got hit pretty hard. I'm surprised it wasn't worse than it was, however, there is some swelling on the brain. That's probably why you can't remember anything right now."

"Will it... will my memory return?"

"Only time will tell," Dr. Harvor answers honestly. "We'll just have to wait and see. But I don't want you worrying about it or pushing yourself too hard - your body will heal itself, given the opportunity."

Jared glances back down to his legs. "How come my legs don't feel right?"

Dr. Harvor purses his lips and reaches down to put pressure on Jared's left leg. "Do you feel that?"

"No."

"This?"

"No."

"Can you move your leg for me?"

"No." Jared's fear was worsening. When he couldn't feel Dr. Harvor's pokes and prods to either leg or foot, his eyes filled with that fear. "What is it?"

"Your spine." Dr. Harvor folds his arms over his clipboard. "It was injured in several places and I did all I could in surgery. However, there was nerve damage."

"What... what does that mean?"

"It means we wait and see what your body does."

"But there's... there's a chance that... that I can't walk?"

"I won't lie to you - there is that chance."

Jared can't even sigh. It hurt too much to draw in that much air. Maybe not walking didn't matter. Maybe he never walked that much anyway. He didn't think so though. "So you... you know who I am?"

Dr. Harvor nods. "Yes. And you also have some people who were waiting for you to wake up. Do you feel up to any visitors?"

"Do you... think it will jog my memory?"

"We can certainly try."

Back out in the hall, Dr. Harvor locates Lydia and Justin. "Mrs. Hawks?"

"Oh, yes, doctor." Lydia stands up from the chair she'd been sitting in for hours on end. The same questions bubble over as every other time she'd seen the doctor. "Is he okay? Is he going to live? Is he awake?"

Dr. Harvor takes her hands and smiles gently. "One thing at a time, okay? Yes, I do believe now that he is going to live."

"Thank God." A tear trickles down Lydia's cheek.

Justin stands nearby, just waiting to hear the news. He wasn't sure how he felt right now and didn't want to think about it, so he concentrates on Dr. Harvor instead.

"Your son received a list of injuries..." Dr. Harvor goes on to explain everything, making sure both understood. He had talked to them before about it but because of the traumatic event, he simply wanted to reiterate everything, along with the new information. "...so right now, he's unable to move his legs."

By now, Lydia had Justin's arm in her grip and it tightens. "You mean, he... he's paralyzed?"

"Yes. It may or may not be temporary. Only time will tell." Dr. Harvor takes a deep breath. "What may be harder to deal with though is the head trauma. While talking with him a few minutes ago, it became apparent that he has amnesia. And just as his paralysis, it may or may not be permanent. I'm hoping that as his brain swelling decreases that he will regain his memory."

Lydia swallows hard. "Can we see him?"

"Yes, but only for a few minutes. He needs a lot of rest."

Lydia looks up at Justin. "Are you coming with me?"

Justin bites his lip. "You go on. We don't want to throw too much at him at once if he doesn't remember."

"Of course." Lydia nods and heads to the room.

Justin folds his arms and sighs, watching her go. It had nothing to do with not wanting to overwhelm Jared and he knew it. His brother had almost died. His brother. But Justin hadn't yet worked through his anger, so now, whatever this was doing to his emotions didn't feel good. He couldn't see Jared... not yet.

Lydia walks slowly into the room, her eyes wide and tear-filled. "Jared?"

Hearing someone's voice, Jared pries his eyes open halfway once more and manages to turn his head ever so slightly. His visitor appeared to be a woman... middle-aged maybe, with dark hair streaked with gray. She looked pretty worried. Was she crying?

Lydia nears the bed and sets a warm hand on his free arm. "I'm so glad you're awake." She blinks away a tear. "I thought for sure you would die."

Jared isn't sure what to say. She seemed sweet but... who was she? "Doc said I... I walked in front of a bus."

Hearing his voice, even if it was so quiet and weak, seemed to convince Lydia that her son really was alive, and she manages a smile. "I always taught my sons to look both ways before crossing the street. Now you know why."

For some reason, that seemed a bit humorous, and the corner of Jared's mouth upturns into a faint crooked grin. "Are... are you my mother?"

New tears pool in Lydia's eyes as what Dr. Harvor had said is confirmed. "Yes." She sniffs. "Yes, I am."

Something about her maybe seemed vaguely familiar, but Jared had no recollection of her at all. It was a very strange feeling. He was a grown man... not sure of his age... but grown man nonetheless, and it felt as if he were looking at his mother for the very first time. His eyes droop but he forces them to stay open. His little grin comes back. "I think you're too pretty to be my mother."

A laugh slips out and Lydia shakes her head. "You did get hit hard didn't you?"

"Why? I...I never said it before?"

Lydia holds her smile, even though her eyes fill with sadness. "You look tired. I should leave you now."

Jared didn't know why, but something deep down didn't want her to go. He figured it was pretty silly though. "Yeah.... I guess I am pretty tired..."


"...so he's going to live, but his memory has been wiped clean. The doctor doesn't know if it's permanent or not." Justin sits at Beth's kitchen table, a half-eaten plate of supper in front of him. It wasn't that it didn't taste good - all of her cooking tasted good. But tonight... he just couldn't stomach much more. It was the first time he hadn't cleaned his plate when Beth had cooked.

Through this whole thing, today had seemed the hardest. Justin should be celebrating that his brother was alive. And yet all he could do was continue the stupid inner battle, waging anger against sorrow, hate against love and pity against selfishness.

After knowing that Jared was going to be okay, Justin had convinced his mother to go home and sleep in her own bed for the night. He, on the other hand, had only stopped by his own home briefly before heading on in to town to Beth's after calling her and agreeing to supper. He was physically and emotionally exhausted, yet too worked up to rest. It wasn't a fun feeling.

Resting his elbows on the table, Justin folds his hands and rests his forehead on them, closing his eyes. Sooner or later he'd have to face what he was feeling. He would have to face his brother. He would have to face his hurt and anger. But did he have to do it tonight?

Eventually he looks up, resting his chin on his hands and looking across the table at Beth. He had no idea how tired his own eyes looked. Something about being here made him even more tired - as if he knew this was a safe, peaceful place to be. "I'm sorry," he apologizes. "I should be happy and I guess I'm not, and on top of all that, I'm being terrible company. I should probably just go home and let you have your evening to yourself."