Date

Jason's eyes slowly drift back to the floor to study a crack in one of the tiles. He wasn't so sure it would be easy to not be bitter... not after being treated like this. But was what Misty said true? Had his and Katie's love really been real? He had thought so. It wasn't easy for him to figure out the things he'd felt lately, but he had somehow known that he did still love her. Things had been tough, and he hadn't given her as much physical attention as he had before, just because it was harder to express his emotions. But he'd still loved her. Was Misty right? Had Katie still loved him too? Was that really why she'd been upset about Sandy? But... if she really did love him, why hadn't she even given him a chance to explain? It just didn't make sense to him. Was it really that Katie was just emotionally messed up with all they'd been through? His stomach gives a little turn. 

"Maybe I'm messed up too," he comments softly. Remaining quiet for another moment or two, he abruptly stands. "I got work to do... thanks for..." 

For what? For listening, talking, just being a friend... His eyes meet hers and he nods. There had always been a lot between them that was never spoken - it was just the way it was, and he'd learned to appreciate that about their unique relationship. She'd know what he was trying to say. "Yeah." 

Heading for the door, he calls back over his shoulder. "If Rick wants to see me again, let him know I won't bite his head off, will ya?" 

Rick parks his car in the lot that was in dire need of repair. The old one-story motel had been converted into low-income apartments some years back, on the edge of Southton. It was very obviously not the best part of town, and the building itself needed much attention. Rick scans the numbers on the doors and finds the one he was looking for before getting out and approaching the apartment.

Inside, Clay was sprawled on his futon that he rarely straightened into a couch. Papers and clothes were everywhere. Pizza boxes and fast food wrappers added to the mess. A pile of DVDs near the tv had toppled over and been left. A plant near the dingy window had died, and the sink in the small kitchen dripped into a stack of dirty dishes.

The knock at the door had to come twice before rousing Clay from his sleep. It takes a few more seconds to get his bearings and get his eyes open. Who was bothering him now? Pulling himself from bed, he swings his feet onto the floor and yawns before getting up the gumption to shuffle to the door in his wrinkled t-shirt and ratty jeans. Running a hand through his matted hair, he unlocks the deadbolt before opening the door and squinting at the bright midday light. "Yeah?"

Rick quirks an eyebrow at his nephew's disheveled state. "Hi, Clay."

It takes Clay a moment to realize who it was. "Rick?"

"You okay?"

"Well, yeah, why?" Clay blinks, trying to wake up.

"Um... your dad sent me." Rick pauses. "You look terrible."

"Thanks." Clay smirks with sarcasm. "I've been asleep. I work the graveyard shift."

"Oh, sorry. If I would have known I would have chosen a better time."

"Naw, it's okay." Clay yawns again, taking a moment to study Rick. "Been a while. Why did Dad send you?"

It really had been a while. Rick figured it had been several years since he'd seen his nephew and it didn't look like the time had been all that good to him. "He said he'd been trying to get a hold of you for a week and got worried."

"Oh."

Rick waits, but receives no explanation. "Can I come in?"

Clay hesitates but relents with a shrug. "Yeah, I guess."

Entering the dim apartment, Rick takes a quick glance around. It was worse than just a bachelor's place. It was a total mess.

Clay grabs a chair from the tiny kitchen after clearing off the stack of mail that had been sitting on it, and brings it to the living room for Rick. "Here." He goes back to his bed and sinks down, rubbing a hand over his tired face. "So, Dad was worried and he sent you instead of coming himself."

Rick eases down in the chair and sighs. He knew the father-son relationship was not great. "I'm an hour closer than he is."

"Yeah... those few extra miles are always just too much." Clay shakes his head. "Well you can tell him I'm alive and well. Got my phone shut off 'cause I couldn't pay my bill. That's why he hasn't been able to get a hold of me."

"And you don't have a cell phone?"

"Do I look like I can afford one?"

Rick gives him a wry grin. "Not really, but maybe you just enjoy the ambiance of your apartment."

"You kidding? It's a dump."

Rick smirks a little. "Old pizza boxes do tend to add to the dump decor, you know."

Clay looks around sheepishly. "Yeah, well... I guess I haven't had the gumption to be much of a housekeeper."

Only now does Rick notice a nice long cut on Clay's arm. "What happened there?"

"Oh, not much." Clay turns his arm to look at the wound. "Guy with a knife tried to rob the gas station last night and I wasn't about to go through all that again so I decided to stop him no matter what. Came away with this battle scar."

Rick squints at it. "Looks like it's infected already. You done anything about it?"

"Nah, not really. I've had worse."

"That's beside the point." Rick gets up and comes over to take a closer look. "If you don't get this taken care of, you could be sorry. Who knows what was on the guy's knife?"

Clay pulls his arm away. "Look, I can't afford to go to a doctor. I work nights at a gas station. My paychecks go to my rent, car and food. Anything else is a luxury, including bandaids."

Rick sighs. "The wound is still fresh and looks like it'll start bleeding again if you move it too much. Some stitches would help, and minimize a scar. And you should probably put something on it to take care of that infection before it spreads."

"What part of 'can't afford' don't you understand?" Clay looks up at him and shakes his head. "If you came here just to bug me in my father's place, you can go now."

Backing off, Rick resumes sitting in the other chair, letting a pause linger for several minutes. "Clay... I only talk to your dad every few months, so I don't know much of the story. What happened?"

Clay scoffs. "I guess I wasn't good enough for him. First, I didn't go to college, which annoyed the tar out of him. When I got that job at the sporting goods store and then was promoted to manager, it seemed he was almost proud of me. Then when that stupid armed robbery happened and I got blamed for being involved, instead of helping me out, he ditched me. Said even if I wasn't involved, I needed to face it like a man. Buck up. Show them I could find my own way. So I have been ever since." He gestures to his surroundings. "Great way of showing 'em huh?"

Rick's shoulders drop slightly. He felt badly for his nephew. Maybe Clay wasn't trying too hard to make the best out of his situation, but he'd been dealt a bad hand. "So why was your dad trying to get a hold of you?"

"Who knows. He calls every once in a while to see if I've found a better job and when I say no, he hounds me about it and gives me all this great advice for job interviews, being productive and getting that good job that's just waiting for me." Clay rolls his eyes. "That's about it." He laughs. "Did you go to the family reunion last year?"

Rick shakes his head. "I was too busy. Why?"

"I didn't even get invited."

"You're kidding."

"Nope. I guess working at a gas station and living in a dump doesn't qualify anymore."

"You know not all the family feels that way, right?"

Clay shrugs. "I suppose. Don't really care though. I'm not close to any of my cousins anyhow."

Rick purses his lips, thinking a moment before he stands and heads for the door.

Clay watches him, raising his eyebrows. "Taking off?"

"No. Be right back." Rick leaves the apartment then comes back within a minute, bringing with him the medical bag he always carried. Coming over to the futon he sits next to Clay. "I'm taking care of that arm whether you like it or not."

"It's fine."

"No, it's not."

"Yes, it is!"

"Who's the doctor?"

Clay locks eyes with Rick in defiance, but finally gives in. "Okay, fine. But I can't pay you."

"Clay! I'm not charging you, for Pete's sake. I'm your uncle, for crying out loud."

"So? If my dad was a doctor, he'd charge me."

"Well, I'm not your dad." Rick starts to clean the wound as gently as he could, but there was dirt that had already embedded itself. "This is gonna hurt..."

Clay jerks his arm. "Ow!"

"I told you it would hurt." Rick grabs his arm back. "Now hold still and quit being such a wimp."

Clay smirks but does as he's told. It doesn't take long before he's stitched up with a nice bandage to keep the cut from getting dirty again. Looking at the neat job, he then eyes Rick again, feeling just a bit humbled. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it." Rick closes up his case but doesn't leave right away. Studying Clay, the wheels in his mind begin to turn. "You ever thought about law enforcement?"

"What? Like being a cop or something?" Clay shakes his head. "No, not really. Why?"

"Just wondering. No college, huh?"

"No. Never had in mind a career I wanted to pursue, and I wasn't going to waste my money trying to figure it out. I guess working at a gas station is what I get."

Rick chuckles. "Nah. There are better jobs out there that don't require a degree - they're just hard to find. I probably would be the same if I hadn't wanted to be a doctor." He continues to think. "You any good with computers?"

Clay shrugs. "Kind of. I'm not an idiot when it comes to them but I'm not a genius either."

"What interests you the most?"

"Why all the questions?"

"Humor me."

Clay grins. "I don't know what I'm interested in. I was never allowed to dream of what I wanted - just what was necessary to climb the business ladder and make more money than my fellow man. Failing at that has left me nothing."

Rick thought it so sad that his brother could shape his son like that. "What do you do for fun?"

"Oh, I still hunt some." Clay chuckles. "Remember that trip with Harry?"

Rick laughs, thinking about being with Clay and Clay's cousin - both had been young teens and Rick had agreed to take them on a hunting trip. "Poor Harry. You think he still faints at the sight of blood?"

"I don't have a clue. I do know he fainted when his kid was born last year though. I laughed - he wasn't too happy with me."

Rick still smiles and shakes his head. "You were probably more the outdoorsman than any of the rest of your family. You still like hunting, you say?"

"Yeah. Bow mostly. I still use my shotgun some, but I prefer my bow. Went to that tournament in Crossdale last year."

"How'd you do?"

"Took home first in every category."

Rick laughs. "Sounds like you need something more challenging."

Clay chuckles. "Maybe I do."

"Well... if I see a job opening for archers, I'll let you know."

"As if."

Rick rises to his feet and sighs. "I should probably get going. Take care of that arm, you hear?"

"Yeah, yeah." Clay stands as well. "I'll follow the doctor's orders."

"Good. And I'll tell your dad you're not dead."

Smirking, Clay walks Rick to the door and opens it for him. "Hey, Rick... thanks."

"Don't mention it." It's a long drive back to TJY and the day was half over already, but Rick still had plenty to do before going home, so he heads straight for the infirmary. Once there, he tosses his keys to the side and sighs deeply. Standing at the computer on the counter, he glances over at Misty. "So... I still need some of Jason's blood. Think I dare call him back in here?"

A close friend? Hunter was... honored. Katie was a good woman, and it would be impossible not to be proud to be one of her friends. 

About to say something, Hunter is taken by surprise yet again by her hug. Smiling a little though, he wraps his arms around her and returns it warmly... gently but with a strength that said he was still here for her when she needed him. "Good... 'cause I don't wanna have to worry about ya." 

Pulling away a little, he lifts his hand, resting his palm against her face as his thumb caresses her cheek. His small smile returns. "Don't thank me. Just... return the favor sometime." 

Once Eric gets back to the table, there were enough people and food going around that the whole conversation of dating was let be, and he was just as glad. Not that he minded it... he just hadn't planned on it turning out quite like this. Ashlee might have embarrassed him just a bit, but he could never be mad at her for anything. He was actually very pleased that she was okay seeing him interact with her mom on a different level. Maybe... there was something to this after all. 

He wouldn't get a chance to see Stacy until later though. Right after the meal, he was needed to check something in the barn, then lost track of where everyone was. Taking time to rest his leg, he kept his eye on the clock, so once it was dark, he was up from bed again, heading outside. 

As he stepped down off his bunkhouse porch, he was perhaps a little more cleaned up than he normally was for a simple walk around the ranch. Not that anyone would notice though... and maybe no one would notice he didn't have his hat on tonight either.

It only takes a quick glance for him to see Stacy and prove that his timing had been good. Smiling as he approaches, he cocks his head and hooks his thumbs in his jeans pockets in a rather sheepish stance. "So, um... about that date..."