Not Well

Nate's firm tone surprised Garret a bit, and he raised an eyebrow at how emphatic he was. How was it that friendship felt so complicated and unwanted to Garret, yet to Nate, it was what kept him alive? It didn't seem like it should be something that would mean two completely opposite things to two people. Was there a right or wrong? If there was, did that mean Garret was wrong? Or right?

The invitation to stay brought Garret's mind back into focus and he looked at Nate in disbelief. After all this. The whole day, and then supper, and then this conversation and he still invited Garret to spend the night? In his family's house? Without lock and key? His trust was utterly astounding. Garret would never trust himself in a situation like this. Yet here Nate was, taking things one step further like usual.

He wasn't sure how to respond, when he suddenly realized Laura had appeared beside the couch, holding a pillow and blanket. She'd been listening.

Garret looked up at her, doubly surprised she supported her husband's offer. And for a few awkward moments, he really didn't know what to say. He didn't want to stay here. No. Why should he? It was weird enough the way it was, with Nate trying to be friends and all that. His eyes came back to Nate. "Okay."

It only took a few minutes before, Nate had gotten Maggie up and off to her room, he and Laura had gone to bed after making sure Garret knew where everything was, and the living room was dark and quiet. And Garret was asleep almost before his head hit the pillow.

Upstairs, Laura tucked her arm around Nate and rested her head on his chest. "You're a good man, Nate," she whispered. "Don't ever stop caring about people... It's what I love most about you."


...Early morning. The sun was barely peeking over the horizon. Grey light seeped in around the curtains, creating shadows in the empty living room. The blanket was folded neatly, stacked with the pillow on the couch. In the laundry room, the borrowed clothes had been laid on the washer. All of Garret's things had been picked up from the bathroom. No evidence remained that he'd even been there.

His boots crunched on the road's gravel shoulder as he walked back towards the Elite. At least it wasn't raining, and the chilly breeze had subsided from the day before. But he was still cold. Keeping his hands in his pockets, he lowered his head, trying to conserve heat as he walked. It wasn't that cold out though - he knew it was just him. He had slept like a rock all night - better than he had in literally months - but upon waking, he knew he wasn't well. Chilled and achy, all he'd wanted to do was stay put. But he couldn't. He wasn't ready to experience the morning family dynamics. It was better that he was gone before anyone else woke up and they could go about their day like normal.

With a steady pace, it really didn't take all that long to arrive back to the Elite. By now the sun had risen and it was getting warmer, but he didn't feel it. And by the time he walked through the door, he regretted having come on foot. His chill had worsened. Thankfully, no one was there yet to question where he'd been, and he aimed straight for his room and closed the door.

Slipping off his boots and throwing his cap and jacket in a chair, he sank down on the bed to curl up on his side. His head was now pounding, and he shivered even when he pulled the blanket up. His skin felt hot, but he was so cold. With his back to the door, he drifted to sleep, not even able to fight any more. And in his room is where he would remain, oblivious to anything else going on in the building, and not particularly caring either.


Kirk just grinned at Adison's defense over the last time they'd had too little sleep. She'd always blame him, and he'd always blame her. That's just the way it was. 

"Okay. Great." He shoved the rest of the pizza slice in his mouth - which was too big - and had to chew for several seconds before being able to speak again. "Those," he mumbled, pointing to the pages she held. "Here." He patted an empty spot on the table and sat in his chair, knowing she'd take the one next to him. Grabbing his glasses, he still squinted at his computer screen. "Here we go. Who do we have first?" 

One at a time, he had Adison read off names and any notes he'd already taken as he typed out an official report on each one. Some were easy, like Susanne - she was loyal and did her job by the book. Jamie was the same, with the only concern being her history of abduction and torture by none other than Carson himself. There were many pauses during Kirk's typing as he hashed through these topics with Adison, or simply had to express his amazement that these people hadn't all killed each other. Sapphire had been an easy case until the subject of Gage, but he had to stick to his main focus, that she was a good agent. Nate. Strong, loyal, and a good record of getting his job done. The only issue there was his recent involvement with Garret. 

One by one, names were checked off the list. A pot of coffee was made...and was drunk. A run to the all-night convenient store brought back munchies and more pop. Rick, Dalton, Scott, Hope. There was so little bad to say about each of their characters - it was only when it came to protocol that Kirk had to word things very carefully, making sure Adison agreed he wasn't being too bias one way or the other. 

Misty. Wyatt. Pete. Gunner - he was the loosest cannon of the entire bunch, and with his history, he was one of Kirk's main concerns, and he couldn't hide it on paper. In his opinion, Gunner was even a higher risk than Scott because he chose to act out rather than it being a condition as he labeled Scott's case. 

Angelica. Carson. Ty. Hal. What could be said? They were just as bent on justice as anyone else. Little could be said about Simon or Chance since they were offsite, and Xander had to be talked about carefully until his family was safe, but it would seem he'd played a big part in providing intel against the Agency. 

Jason and Katie? That report took a while to write, and required some extra pacing, gesturing and an additional cup of coffee. And in the end, Kirk skirted around the entire questionable incidents and focused on how great a team the two were and all the good they had accomplished. He had to write in that both seemed young and perhaps would benefit from some official law enforcement training. Jason's past bothered him, and he had to mention that, as did Katie's past and her own record. It was a long time ago, but Kirk knew Barnes would bring it up so he might as well put it in his report so it wouldn't look like he was avoiding the negative aspects. 

And then...Reese himself. Another tough one. So much history. So many mistakes. So many triumphs. After listing all of Kirk's honest concerns, he had to write just as many compliments on Reese's integrity, dedication to protect the community, determination to bring down the Agency, and his honesty even when the Elite had to become public. He had worked with law enforcement ever since then, never refusing to cooperate, which would help his current case a lot. 

The morning sunlight shone through the large living room window. Kirk was sprawled on his back on the floor, his head between his hands, his face contorted as he tried to think straight. "Is that all of them? Please tell me we got through all the files." 


The sky was still grey in Texas when a loud car horn broke the morning peacefulness. Already on high alert, it didn't help nerves any, especially when a moving van and car pulled up to he main house since the gate was supposed to have been closed with a padlock at the end of the driveway. Though chores weren't started yet, many were already up and moving, including Mick, who met the stranger at the porch, shotgun in hand. 

Chance swung down out of the moving truck and held up both hands. "Whoa there, mate, it's just the family arriving."

Mick glanced to the car. Sure enough, he saw a woman and children. It had to be Xander's family. He lowered his gun, but only a little. "How'd you get in here?"

"Oh." Chance pointed to his pocket, and getting a nod of approval, drew out a pocket knife. "Picked the lock. Sorry. Old habits." 

Mick smirked. He didn't know much about Chance, but from what he'd heard, this guy fit the description. He finally relaxed, and turned to stick his head back inside where the scent of coffee wafted out. "Xander!" he called. "You got visitors."