Fault

Reese stands behind his desk, arms folded as he tried to figure out if he needed to be upset or not. When Jason had called him a short while earlier, he'd been informed that things had gone sour and Dalton had been shot. That was the extent of his knowledge though - until now. And even after Nate's brief explanation, he was still rather confused. 

"So you're telling me that all this was due to-" He stops short as Jason and Con finally arrive as well. "Nice of you two to show up," he greets curtly.

Jason doesn't bother covering up a glare. "Nice, my butt. This whole thing was a mess from the start. Either we got some bad intel, or we're the stupidest bunch on the planet. And if we're not, we certainly look like it now." 

Reese frowns, not appreciating Jason's tone. But first thing first. "What's the latest on Dalton?" 

Jason shrugs. "I don't know any more than Nate. He's in critical condition with a shot to the chest. I'd go up to the hospital now, but I got my own job at Misty's." 

"What about the other men who were shot?"

"Cops met us and took over - they were gonna get the guys cleaned up, then taken down to the station. Everybody was gonna be fine, except the one that was killed." 

"Yes, about that..." Reese looks to Con. "Nate said there was some miscommunication. What happened?"

Con swallows hard. There was anger in his stare, but also a strange form of surrender, making for a confusing combination. "These to say Dalton told me to watch his back. I never heard it, so I wasn't looking where I should have been. By the time I saw somebody on that side of the building, it was too late. Dalton had already been shot." 

"I see." Reese sighs deeply and rubs a hand over his face. None of this was good. They'd at least brought in the men they were after, plus one, but it still had not gone own well. And unfortunately, Jason was right - something with their intel was wrong, or they had not adequately prepared. "What about the guy that was killed?"

With no response, he looks to Jason. "Well?" 

Jason shrugs. "He tried to escape. Con took him out." 

"He tried to escape? Was there no other way to stop him?"

Con looks away, his grip on his rifle tightening. 

Reese's stare becomes harder. "Answer me, Con." Without a response, he raises his tone. "Conrad Gibbs, was lethal force necessary?!" 

Con finally glances back at him, and for a moment, the office is eerily quiet. "No." 

"Dang it, Con!" Reese slams his hand down on the desk. "Do you know what kind of trouble you could get yourself into for this? What am I going to say in my report?" He looks between all three men. "We have to answer to other people now, guys. We're not playing the same game we used to. I understand that it wasn't your fault things went bad out there tonight - it happens and I'm not blaming you. But if we don't pull our act together, we're not going to have a team anymore." 

Con fingers his rifle before turning to leave. "I'm putting away our gear." 

Watching him go, Reese doesn't stop him. Sighing deeply, he finally grabs his keys and badge. "I'm going to the hospital, Nate, you come with me. Jason, go ahead and go to Misty's - we'll keep you informed." 

"Right. Anything else?" 

"Yeah..." Reese stops at the doorway and thinks a moment. "Call Scott."

Jason's heart sinks a little but he nods. "Okay."

"And see if you can get a hold of Dani."

...Getting to the hospital with Nate, Reese isn't told much, other than what they already knew - Dalton was in critical condition, and had been rushed into surgery with massive damage from his chest wound. Nobody would say what chance of survival they were giving him, but it was obvious that none of the nurses had high hopes. 

Sitting in the waiting room, Reese is quiet, once in a while making conversation with Nate, but avoiding talk of the botched mission for now. He knew his men had done their best, mistakes or not, and he'd rather go through it all later after they knew what would happen with Dalton. 

It had been at least an hour when Dani finally shows up. In the early morning hours, it was obvious that she'd been wakened by Jason's call. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail and she had on an old pair of baggy jeans and t-shirt, her feet quickly slipped into her flipflops and an old jacket thrown on. Car keys still in hand, she hadn't even bothered bringing her purse. 

Worry coursed through her eyes as she finally finds Nate and Reese. Biting her lip, she tries to keep her emotions in check. All Jason had said was that Dalton had been shot and was in bad shape.

"What's happening?" She comes into the waiting room, looking between both men. "How is he?" 

Even though it was a late hour, Jason wasn't surprised to see a light still on at Misty's. He hoped she hadn't waited up, but he knew she probably had. Entering the house quietly, he sees the light is coming from the kitchen, and heads that way, finding Misty at the table. 

He knew he looked a mess. He was still half-geared up from the mission, and blood stained his shirt and hands. His eyes were tired and full of concern, his shoulders bending under the weight. 

"Hi." 

"Dude, you look terrible."

Jason looks back over his shoulder quickly to find Alec yawning and rubbing his eyes, obviously wakened from his sleep on the couch. "Thanks."

"What happened?" 

Jason looks to Misty again before sinking down in a chair and putting his head in his hands. "Mission got botched. Got our guys but Dalton was shot. He's at the hospital now in critical condition." 

Alec can feel shock hitting his veins. Dalton, of all people. He'd been out on a mission? Shot? It... didn't seem possible. And for a brief moment, he remembers how Dalton had been one of the few people to give him a chance. And now he... might not make it?

Sitting up in bed, Scott holds Domino in his lap, stroking her head slowly. Sensing her master's stress, the little dog lays quietly, licking his hand every now and then. 

In the dark, Scott's eyes focus on nothingness. His mind played over and over a silent prayer for Dalton, while memories flashed by. Somehow, somewhere along the way, the giant of a man had become his best friend. He'd supported Scott through thick and thin and had never let him down. He'd been there, even when Scott hadn't wanted him to be. And when Scott had come back to work, he'd welcomed him like a brother. Yes, Dalton was even more than a best friend - he really was like a brother. 

Leaning his head back against the wall, Scott's heart ached. He didn't want to lose Dalton... not now... not like this.

Back at TJY, the lower level was dark. All the lights were off, and the only sound was the soft buzz of security cameras as they slowly turned one way then the other. Guns and other gear had long since been returned to their places, but Con was still there. 

Sitting on the floor, just inside the rec room, Con wrapped himself in the darkness. He should be home. Jamie would be worried about him. But he hadn't called her. He hadn't told her the mission was over or that he was back at TJY. Or  that he was still here, unable to get himself to go home yet.

 Tonight's events played over and over in his mind. And over and over he saw Dalton's body just lying there on the ground, his life being bled out of him. The sound of gunshots made him cringe even now. 

It was his fault Dalton was lying in the hospital now. It was his fault for not paying enough attention. For not being more prepared. For not hearing Dalton's orders. 

Not hearing...

Gritting his teeth, Con closes his eyes tightly, pressing his emotions back down deep. He was in a lot of trouble right now - but it was for shooting one of the drug dealers, not for being negligent on the job. Reese had been gracious enough not to put him under the spotlight. But it didn't matter. Dalton's life hung in the balance right now.

And Con knew it was all his fault.

Eli grins, appreciating it when Ryan could see their dad in him. If there was any man he'd ever admired or wanted to be like, it was their dad. He often wondered if he'd be proud of them today. 

"Yeah... yeah, he always did seem to hold all the answers. Funny thing though... so often he had us figure out the answer ourselves, while knowing it all along. Like he knew we'd choose the right answer eventually, but wanted us to be able to stretch our own minds instead of him just telling us what to do."

Cocking his head, Eli studies his sister again. What was it that was so heavy on her mind? He wondered if he knew, but he didn't dare voice it. "He always said it helped to talk things out..."