Bridges

It was interesting for Jared, hearing Grace talk. He'd experienced the whole forgiveness thing from his family - mostly his mother - but as far as he could remember, he'd never met a woman who was so willing to look past his faults and keep trying. Not to this extent anyway.

He wasn't so sure about her invite on Sunday. Without her saying so, he knew it must be a church group. He'd been asked in that sort of roundabout way before by other people, but eventually they'd given up. Even his brother. At the moment, he didn't know if he was really ready for a group of church people. He knew they must be nice or else Grace wouldn't have suggested it, but...after having been away from that scene for so long, it made him rather apprehensive. The last time he'd gone to church was right before he'd left home after high school. After that, he'd had  nothing to do with it. Maybe he'd had a faith once. Maybe his commitment as a younger man wasn't a farce. But somehow he'd become bitter. Was it after his father's death? Maybe. 

Bringing his thoughts back around, he realizes that again, he'd left the conversation in silence. But looking at Grace, he really didn't mind. The sunlight was shining through the window, putting her face in a soft glow. And for the first time perhaps, he wondered if her being his therapist was more than just mere chance. And his heart gave a little lurch. 

Tugging her hand a little, he gives her a crooked grin. "Well... we'll play the whole Sunday thing by ear. But... as far as the hurting each other's feelings and making up part... I'd gladly make up with you now, except I hurt too much to move. So if I'm gonna be able to kiss you, you're gonna have to come to me."

Hearing Misty's introduction, Jason glances over their way and gives as low, "Woof." 

Clay cracks a new smile and shakes his head. As crazy as people were around here...he liked them. 

"What's gotten into you?" Rick thumps Jason upside the head. 

"Um...too much caffeine?" Jason gives him a wide-eyed look. "Need to stay awake to work, ya know." 

"Not sleeping well?" 

The lighthearted banter suddenly took a nosedive as Jason cleared his throat. "Could be," he answered more quietly. 

Rick glanced at Misty then back to Jason, sensing this was something he didn't want to talk about in present company. "Okay, well, keep working on your diet and come see me again next week. Or sooner if anything else comes up." 

"You got it." Jason slides off the table and wanders over to Misty, leaning down to give her a soft kiss on the lips. "Hey, beautiful. Who's your friend?" 

"Clay Johnston." Clay holds out his hand. 

Jason readily accepts the handshake. "Nice to meet you. What are you in for?" 

Clay rolls his eyes. "Bad luck. Although maybe that luck is turning. Misty invited me to hang out with you guys tonight. However... I might be just a little scared." 

Jason grins as his hand goes to rest on Misty's shoulder. "Good. We like it that way." He looks down at Misty. "So what's the game plan for tonight then? Alec gonna be around?"

Scott stared down his arm and over the short barrel of the hand gun. A bead of sweat trickled down his face. Images flashed through his mind. Images of torture. Pain. Anguish. What he'd been put through. What he'd endured. And all for the sake of what? They'd ruined him. Torn him apart. Left him a broken, barely-alive man with nothing but emptiness inside.

Focusing again, he saw the eyes that stirred hate within him. And though his muscles shook, he squeezed the trigger.

The shot ricocheted through the lower-level practice area as the bullet ripped through the target straight where one's heart would be. Another shot followed, and another until all rounds had been fired. Scott's heart was beating rapidly in his chest as he shakily lowered the gun.

"Nice."

Scott turns quickly, startled at Gunner's presence. "Oh. Hi."

Gunner folds his arms and looks at the 'dead' target. "And here I thought you spent all your time behind a desk."

Scott shrugs and glances down to the gun in his hand. "You know I usually do," he responds quietly. "Just, um... trying to... um..."

"Kill some demons?"

"Yeah. Justin, he... thought it might help." Scott wasn't sure that it really had helped, but maybe in a small way, even if none of this was real, he did feel more in control. Maybe killing enemies, even if just in his mind, would help him overcome some of his fear.

Gunner nods thoughtfully before leaning on the safety rail and studying the target. "Well... I guess maybe it can help sometimes. A way to sorta vent."

"I suppose." Scott reloads his handgun before offering it to Gunner. "Wanna try it?"

Gunner chuckles. "I don't think I got any demons after me today."

"Don't you?"

Gunner straightens and cocks his head at Scott's pensive tone. "No..."

Scott shrugs. "I guess I figured it's something like that when a man thinks life isn't worth living anymore."

Gunner blinks, his mouth opening slightly in surprise. "What... gave you that idea?"

Scott finally withdraws the gun that was not being taken from him. "When I look in your eyes, it's kinda like looking in a mirror when I'm real low. Except, you do a good job trying to hide it."

"You haven't said anything to anybody else, have you?"

"No... but you probably should before you go and try something stupid again."

Gunner sighs deeply and shakes his head. How Scott could read him so well, he didn't know. Maybe it was simply because Scott really did recognize the look in his eyes. But it didn't really matter. No one else had figured it out. Not even Bree. He'd done too good a job hiding it from her. And JT. And Reese. And Hope. But it was starting to wear on him. The nightmares were back full-force. He was being haunted all over again about his parents' deaths. His subconscious was trying to remember again and it was driving him mad. Maybe Scott was the one who had noticed because he could relate to the madness. "I, um... better get back to work."

"Yeah, okay." Scott opts to unload the gun rather than shoot anymore. Glancing over his shoulder, he watches Gunner leave. He wasn't in such great shape himself, but he hoped his friend would either pull through or get some help before it was too late.

Back upstairs, Gunner heads down the hall, with much more on his mind than when he'd been here just a short time earlier. Scott had gotten to him, and he really didn't like it at all. And yet...

Stopping at Hope's office door, he hesitates. He'd avoided this. He'd done everything in his power to keep everybody out of his head. His mind was his private solitude. His thoughts were his and his alone. 

"Hey, Hope?" Though his inner argument continued, he found himself tapping his knuckles on her door before poking his head around the corner. A smile was void today. "Sorry to bother you, I just um... well I thought maybe sometime... like... not today or anything, just... sometime..." 

He pauses to cease his stammering, while his eyes drift to the floor against his will as his mind is invaded with images of the day Con and Hope had stopped him from throwing his life away. He could still feel the cool rail of the bridge. Con's firm grip. Hope's reassurance. 

"I thought maybe we could talk about... you know...bridges." He forces himself to look back up at her again while mustering up a short chuckle. "I'm... pretty sure I'm going crazy."


Clint looks at his uncle for several moments, feeling a bit of sadness for him. He'd obviously been through so much while away. So much horror. Fear. Pain. It was for that reason, Clint didn't understand Wes' desire to get other men to do the same. Clint loved his country, but he wasn't so sure he'd volunteer to go help fight someone else's war. He'd stand his ground here for his family, but to go through so many terrible things...and want to send other men out to do the same...he didn't get it. Yet he didn't feel it was his right to question Wes either. His job was to accept the responsibility of his work here, even though Wes was apparently not going to be back full-time like he had been before. Clint was disappointed, but he wouldn't say so. He wouldn't spoil the blessing of having Wes alive and back with the family again. He'd work like always and just hope he could at least use Wes' name to gain back some customers so the business didn't die.

"It's good to have you home," he responds quietly. After giving Wes' shoulder a firm pat, he shuts out the lights in the shop and closes the door.

"Have a good night and I'll see you tomorrow." Turning, he smiles. It did feel good to be able to say that again.

Tucking his hands in his pockets, he ambles across the ranch yard, headed for home. Once there, he wasn't surprised all the lights were out, and he was extra careful to be quiet so he didn't wake Chase. After cleaning up, he slips into bed behind Wendy, sliding his arm around her and giving the back of her head a gentle kiss. For having so much, he should feel better than he did. Maybe tomorrow things would look different.