Last one to the door...

"True to yourself..." Kirk pursed his lips in thought. Misty's tears didn't escape him. He glanced through his files, finding more he could bring up. Thinking another moment though, he shifted some papers to the bottom instead. "So, if you -"

"I think you're done here." Rick came up beside the desk his face proving his displeasure at this entire scene. It had gone on long enough. Misty didn't deserve this, especially now when she was still fragile. He scowled at Kirk. "Kindly take your accusations and leave."

Kirk didn't move right away, but eventually shrugged and stood up, gathering his things. "Have it your way. Just remember...failure to cooperate doesn't look good on reports."

Once he was gone, Rick set a hand on Misty's shoulder. "You alright?"


Out in the hallway, Kirk took a moment, leaning back against the wall and closing his eyes. No one would know what was going through his mind. 

After the short break, he finally looked at his notepad again to see the list of names. Not everyone was on it. But he still had several people he needed to talk to...

"So, Mr. Johnson. Hopefully this won't keep you from your work too long."

Scott sat at the meeting room table with Kirk, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. He'd been asked to come in here for a brief talk, but after what had happened with his sister, he was not here because he wanted to be. "Hopefully."

Kirk spread out some papers on the table and looked them over for a moment. "Let's see. It...says here you spent quite a while away from the Elite. Care to elaborate?"

Scott's stomach turned. "It's all in the reports. You have the details already."

"Forgive me. I'd like to hear it in your own words if it's alright. The reports help but that doesn't help me get to know you."

"You want to know me? Like you wanted to get to know my sister? How'd that work out for you?"

Kirk leaned back in his chair and lifted one eyebrow. "I'm here now to talk about you. Not Sapphire. My file on her is finished."

Scott's eyes narrowed. "Then what is it you really want to know?"

"Says here you spent quite a long while at Brookshire Mental Care Facility."

"And?"

"And I have to admit, it sounds like a pretty heroic story. A rookie field agent gets kidnapped by the Agency, comes back, recovers, backslides, goes to Brookshire, then comes out the other side ready to return to work. That's pretty amazing."

Heat crawled up the back of Scott's neck. "What's your point?"

Kirk shrugged. "Do you think you're well enough to be here? Working, I mean? That was pretty traumatic stuff. At one point, you even insisted they keep you homebound because you were afraid you'd been brainwashed to sabotage the Elite."

"So?"

"So don't you find that just a bit unnerving? What if you were just a civilian? Would you trust someone like you to be working for the Elite?"

Scott's hands slid beneath the table, out of sight as they started to tremble. "I trust Reese's judgment to allow me back on the force."

"He seems like a reasonable man. But don't you think there was some guilt involved there? Don't you think he probably blames himself for what happened, so he'd do anything to keep you happy and comfortable to ease his conscience?"

Scott started to scowl. "Of course not. He has more integrity than that."

"So you don't think he blames himself."

"I didn't say that."

Kirk folded his hands up behind his head. "From an outsider's perspective, there's a lot of scary stuff happening here. You've got your hands in all the tech work here - you have incredible power through the computers, dealing with life and death scenarios. Do you really believe you're stable enough to handle that?"

Scott felt anything but stable. He'd tell anyone that. But he didn't think he was doing a bad job...was he? He'd faltered a lot. But...not when it counted...right? He'd messed up a few times. But he was still a valued part of the team...wasn't he? "I..." He swallowed hard. 

"If I asked Justin, do you think he'd give you a clean mental bill?"

"I... well... I-I think so. I mean...."

Kirk blinked. There was the hesitation he was looking for. "You think so? You're not sure? You're working for a strategic law enforcement branch and you don't even know for sure if you can mentally stand up under the strain?"

Scott's trembling spread from his hands into the rest of his body. "It...I'm... I've come a long ways," he finally defended.

Kirk let his arms drop and he leaned forward to sift through some more papers. "There's documentation here that indicates you can't even handle seeing the faces of Agency operatives. If someone's life is on the line, what happens then? You panic, hesitate too long, and someone dies. Tell me I'm wrong."

Scott's pulse had started to race, and his breathing was becoming more shallow. Yes...that was his worst fear. That he would fail because of his issues, and someone would get hurt because of him. But he was doing so much better now than he had been...right? "I've...I've got more control than I used to."

"So you can tell me with absolute certainty that your post traumatic stress disorder will not affect future cases in which you're involved."

Scott fought the urge to bolt from the room. He glanced at the closed door. "As...as much as the next person...yes."

Kirk's hand came slamming down on the table, causing Scott to almost jump out of his skin. "Look me in the eye and tell me that," he demanded.

Scott's one good eye roamed Kirk's face as his own began to pale. "Yes," he repeated. "I'm...I'm sure. I wouldn't...I mean... if...if I wasn't stable enough, Reese wouldn't let me be here."

"That's why he makes you share an office with a babysitter?"

Scott sucked in his breath. "Dalton is anything but a babysitter," he hissed. "We're a team."

"Because you can't handle the job on your own."

"Because there's too much work for one person."

"Especially when you still aren't well enough to work full-time."

It was true, Scott wasn't working a full forty hours, but he'd been trying so hard to increase his workload. A long pause followed before he spoke again. "Is this how you try to get to know me?"

Kirk shook his head. "I'm just looking for answers, Scott. You've done a pretty poor job at convincing me that you even believe you belong here."

But he had nowhere else. This was his life. His family. Scott didn't know what he'd do without the Elite. Emotions flooded his gaze.

Kirk held up a photo of one of the Agency men that had held Scott after his kidnapping.

Scott stood so fast that his chair sprawled across the floor, and he backed up against the wall, physically trying to distance himself from the memory. "Put that away," he begged.

"Case in point." Kirk put the photo back down. "I'll ask you again. If you were a civilian, and you or your daughter or son was being held by that man - would you trust you to not panic in the heat of the moment and risk getting someone killed?"

Scott fought back tears. He had known this would be hard, but he hadn't known just how hard. "No," he finally admitted shakily. "No, I wouldn't trust me."

Kirk sighed. "Then why are you here?"

"I just..." Scott continued to shake all over. "I... because they believe in me here...even if I don't." Unable to take any more, he went for the door. He couldn't do this. He knew he had just failed the test miserably, and the Elite would probably pay for it. But he couldn't stay in here any longer. With his hand on the door handle though, he suddenly stopped and looked over his shoulder, his stare an icy one as he processed his next words. "If anyone doesn't belong here, it's me. But the people here look out for their own and they have brought me back from the brink of insanity - or worse - simply because that's how much they care about others. I may not be the man I once was, but without this organization, more people would have died already than even you would care to count. So if you're going to crucify someone, go ahead and crucify me since I can't meet your standards - but don't crucify the Elite just for keeping me around. It's not their fault I'm a mess." Not allowing Kirk to respond, he left the room.

Just a few doors down, he entered his own office again where he felt safer. Dalton's presence helped. Still shaking, he walked around behind his desk, but instead of sitting, he backed himself up into the corner, and slide down to sit on the floor, bending so his face was hidden against his knees. He couldn't help it that the tears started to escape, which made him feel even worse. Maybe Kirk was right. Maybe he was just endangering lives by being here. Maybe if he wasn't here, the Elite would have a better chance at survival. Maybe he really didn't belong here any more.


Con draped his arms over Jamie's shoulders, and quirked an eyebrow. "I hate to break it to ya, Hun, but I'm pretty hard to miss."

A new grin emerged. "But we can at least move fast." Spotting her purse, he grabbed it for her. "Last one to the door pays for lunch."


Agreeing to Ashlee's suggestion, Travis slowly followed her to the barn, where he sat on a hay bale while she hosed down Stardust, then got up to help towel and brush her. 

"Well, well, you're looking better."

In the barn aisle, Travis turned to see a man he didn't recognize. "I'm getting there."

"Good. I'm Eric, by the way." He glanced at Ashlee. "Looking good out there," he complimented. He hadn't had time for any actual lessons lately, and he felt bad, but for now, most of his attention was on pulling his weight, taking care of the twins, and now keeping a watchful eye on everything. 

Travis returned to brushing the horse gently with his good hand, while also trying to figure out the relationship between Eric and Ashlee. She'd mentioned a mom but not a dad, but Eric acted closer than a friend. Maybe he was a relative?

Eric gave Stardust's hindquarters a pat. "I should have some free time this afternoon if you wanna work in the corral for a little while. I need to get on Static a while before he breaks down his stall."