Scared

Jay's jaw drops in mock shock at the suggestion he was old, and he points a teasing finger at Rosetta, warning her. "Very funny..." 

Nodding, he thumbs to Jeff's room. "Well, I don't know what time you want to go, but he's awake now. Don't know what kind of mood he'll be in after our little talk, but he seemed okay a few minutes ago. I can stay as long as you want though before we go." 

Eric mulls over Katie's offer for a moment, but shakes his head, his eyes gaining a strange glint that he doesn't explain. "Naw, we just need another strong back. You go ahead and do whatever you want with the horses. I think Luke is actually trying to clean up a couple of those yearlings before a buyer comes to look at them today - you might see if he needs a hand." 

Glancing back to Hunter, he gives him a once-over. "You got work clothes with ya?" 

Hunter nods. "Yeah..." He'd brought some work boots and some old jeans and shirts just in case he wound up working - looked like it had been a good idea. "Just lemme go change and I can meet you in the barn." 

"Good deal." Eric nods and turns to head out again. "See you guys out there." 

Watching him leave, Hunter takes another long swallow of coffee and grimaces as it goes down. Looking to Katie, he nods though. "Looks like I got something to keep me busy for a while." He grins and forces himself to finish his morning drink. He was happy for the opportunity to do something right now. He'd sit with Katie in the hospital all day long if she wanted, but keeping his hands busy would at least keep his mind from wandering to less pleasant topics... 

...It was just a short while later and Hunter was in the barn, wandering down the aisles to find Eric. Instead, he comes upon Mick instead, back in the far stalls. 

Mick, ankle deep in manure, looks up and grins at Hunter. "Mornin'." 

"Hey... Eric said he needed help...?"

"Oh yeah. He's got Jim helping him down at the other end, so you can stick around and help me." Mick gestures to a shovel and pitchfork in the corner. "Help yourself." 

Surveying the stall and the wheelbarrow Mick was using, Hunter nods. It wasn't as if this was hard to figure out. Grabbing a pitchfork, he comes in and sets to work. 

Outside, Luke aims the hose at the filly, soaking down her coat that was full of dried mud and grass. He'd actually gotten himself up out of bed at dawn this morning and had wanted to take advantage of a good day and not stay in bed when he didn't have to. It wasn't often anymore that he was able to do a whole lot of useful tasks around the barn, but with Jeff out of the game right now, Luke felt an even greater responsibility. 

Having been concentrating on his sandwich, Jared's eyes look up quickly at Grace. Her words were rather poetic and they surprised him. Surely she was just kidding though, right? She was just his physical therapist - when the job was over, that was it. She probably just wanted to encourage him and be nice... right? He notices her cheeks are red, which contradicted his theory. 

Finishing the half sandwich, a new grin spreads on his face. "I guess I'll need somebody to show me the world," he reasons, "since I don't remember any of it." He cocks his head, his gaze remaining on her face. "Of course... that just means I'll have to get on my feet that much sooner. I can't have you pushing me around all over the place all the time. That would just slow us down." 

Still grinning, his tone teases her. And yet, behind the teasing... behind his eyes... behind that veil of confidence and flirting... there was someone who was scared of that world out there. Scared of what he no longer knew. Scared of feeling just as alone out there as he did in that hospital room.

In a place like the Agency, time never seems to exist, despite the rising and setting of the sun. No job is ever wholly complete. No goal is ever wholly reached. Caught in this tragic form of manipulation, agents are like hamsters running on wheels that expend total energy yet lead them nowhere. Only worse are those agents that have realized through sheer willpower that they are trapped. And when that realization begins to take root, eyes see only beyond these confines, creating a gnawing in the gut - a drive to break free. But to risk rebellion is to risk one's life. So one must keep on running. Keep on heeding commands. Keep on towards unattainable goals. For survival is the only option...

The black van pulls into the drive way, having just come from the airstrip. It was normal. Common. Almost boring in a way. It never changed.

Life at the Estate had become dully consistent. Medridge spent more and more time here and less time traveling to labs or facilities. During the past month, he had traveled some, but not as he used to. Was it his age? No one dare ask.

Agents had come and gone. Some had never returned. Others, like Garret and Victoria continued an unpredictable cycle of being called away to missions then whisked back to the Estate once more. What used to be an infrequent hideaway had become their own home base - but even that  was never a sure thing. No one knew when they would be permanently relocated. But if anyone preferred the Estate, best behavior was a must. And most everyone there knew that this luxurious location was better than most Agency establishments.

Stepping out of the van first was Deacon - he had been the head driver for the past three weeks and rarely spoke to any other agents. His silence made him a favorite of Medridge - perfect for a driver that could never speak of their location.

Coming to the side of the van, Deacon slid open the door, just in time to catch Garret before he fell out. Garret clung to the big man to keep himself from slumping to the ground. Sweat trickled down the sides of his face and his eyes held a strange blur. He'd been gone for five days. To where, only he knew.

Slinging one of Garret's arms over his shoulders, Deacon leads Garret to the house, half helping, half dragging him. A medic meets them at the door and he is ushered inside where he disappears into the confines of the basement lab.

Only several hours later would Garret lie in his own bed in the smaller house at the edge of the property. Medridge's personal doctor would be seen coming and going, but only every so often, leaving Garret on his own for most of the day and into the evening.