Stranger

Clint nods, lifting his cup in a "you're welcome" before gulping down the rest of the coffee. Cringing a little as the strong liquid slides down his throat, he sets the mug in the sink before coughing. "Mm. Smooth."

Passing by the other two on his way out again, he pauses, looking over his shoulder at them. His eyes still twinkled, but his face was a little more serious now. "If you guys do need a break from any head-choppers for a while though, you're both more than welcome to come hang out a while in the shop." He grins at Rosalyn. "Even you, even though you are a woman."

Rosalyn really did appreciate the offer. It was apparent that whether he agreed with her decision or not, he would support her, despite their father's stance. Just knowing she and Chad could hide out with Clint for a while if need be was enough to give her a little bit of peace. "Thanks." 

"Yup." Giving a little wave, he turns back around and heads for the back door, skipping out on breakfast.

Sighing, Rosalyn takes Chad's arms, wrapping them a little tighter around herself as she leaned her head back on his chest. "I guess I can't complain about my brother," she admits. "We've had a few rough spots, but he really is a good guy." She tilts her head up so she can see Chad's face. "And you are too."

Dylan shifts his weight a bit awkwardly but nods. "Yeah, okay." That sounded alright. He wouldn't mind if Ashlee came along. She wasn't the annoying type at least, and her company was okay. "I just gotta get some clothes," he explains. "So's long as Ash doesn't mind, I don't." His eyes study Stacy with an intensity one could almost feel, while his face remains expressionless. "And as long as you don't mind me and her bein' alone together for a while."

Every once in a while, a strange face would show up on the Elite's main floor, though usually it was only those invited or brought in by the agents. Today though, it wasn't just that a stranger had arrived - the surprise was due to the shape the visitor was in. 

"Misty?" Gunner knocks on the infirmary door before pushing it open. He new Rick was off today - of course, today of all days. "Need your help here." 

Clay trudges in behind him, barely able to see out of one eye, while the other was swollen shut completely. His face was bruised and bloodied, although it looked like most of the blood had dried already around the gashes by his eye and across his cheek. His lower lip was split and swollen as well, and he kept one arm wrapped around his aching ribcage.

Teetering a little, Gunner is quick to grab him. "Whoa, easy. You better sit down." 

Clay sees the table and numbly obeys before he fell over. "I sh'da c'lled f'rst," he mumbles, unable to speak clearly. "R'ck j'st... um..." He struggles to form words in his mind, let alone his mouth which hurt to move at all. 

"Rick's apparently his uncle," Gunner explains quickly to Misty. "Least ways, that's what I can tell."

Clay nods and catches himself from falling onto his side as he sat. 

Gunner grimaces at he shape the man was in. "Thought you better start cleaning him up while I call Rick and see if he'll come in."