Bail

Wyatt just grins at Katie, knowing that he probably will "happen" to pass by Laura's house again. He walks both women to the door and says goodnight before he and Ty both head to bed themselves.


Mick takes a deep breath and nods to Rosetta, trying to calm his own nerves. Entering the police station, he explains who he is and pays the bail for Dylan. He and Rosetta are allowed to walk back to the cells where Dylan is sitting with five or six other guys, all older than he. He looks up as he hears footsteps, his face showing his tension at seeing Mick. He'd called his mother, and had no idea that Mick would be the one showing up. He stands up and crosses his arms in a defiant stance as the cell door is opened.

Mick looks in at him, a mixture of sorrow and anger filling his heart. "Come on, Dylan." He thumbs down the hall. "You're coming with me."

Dylan grits his teeth. "What if I don't want to?"

"Tough luck," Mick states flatly. "I just paid a bundle to get you out of here, so get your hind end in gear and don't make this any harder than it has to be."

When Dylan doesn't move, the officer nods a warning. "I'd advise you to go with him, son."

Giving in with disgust, Dylan trudges out of the cell, shoving past Mick and ignoring Rosetta. Mick throws Rosetta a look of complete annoyance, rolling his eyes as he follows his son.

One they're outside, Dylan plants his feet on the sidewalk. "I ain't going back to that stupid ranch with you."

"It's 'I'm not' and yes, you are." Mick opens the door to Rosetta's jeep. "In. Now."

Dylan straightens, though his frame is no taller than Mick's. "No."

"I'm not standing here all night arguing with you!" Mick raises his voice. "You're coming, and that's final."

"Who are you to tell me what to do?"

"I'm your father."

"Some father. I don't remember seeing you around for the last ten years."

Mick's face reddens as he reaches his limit. Stepping forward, he surprises Dylan by taking him by his jacket and yanking him to the jeep. With both hands, he manhandles the younger man, shoving him into the seat, with a swift kick to the backside.

"Aw come in!" Dylan gripes. "What'd you do that for?"

"That was the hard way," Mick explains calmly, sliding into his own seat. "From now on I suggest the easy way." He nods to Rosetta. "Let's get going before anyone misses us."



Jason's body shakes, the sweat pouring down the side of his face. Despite any amount of control, it had been inevitable that these images would invade his sleep, turning foggy dreams into vivid nightmares all over again. He had known it was coming, but had been too tired not to sleep.

Trooper whines and gets up from his place in the kitchen, going to Jason to nuzzle his hand.
Too deeply into the dream though, Jason doesn't wake. He writhes in the pain he feels in the realm separate from reality. Alex. The house. The pain. The hunger. The desperation. The tears.

Unable to pull himself out of the nightmare, Jason lives in torture for over an hour, until finally a backfiring car out on the street jolts him awake. He sits straight up, glancing around the room wildly to convince himself that he was in his own house. His hands shake uncontrollably and he's soaking wet. "Aw dang it," he complains in a whisper. He tries to get up from his chair, but his knees buckle, not yet recovered from the shock of the nightmare. Falling back down into the chair, he groans in desperate irritation. Would this never end?

Trooper tries again, lifting Jason's arm with his nose and whining at him, sensing something wrong.

Jason manages to scratch the dog's head, trying to convince him everything is fine, though his racing pulse says otherwise. This was the first time he'd been completely alone when this had happened. He looks to the phone for just a moment, but is quick to remain logical, refusing to dial. He had to do this...he had to get himself into bed and survive the night. Tomorrow would be better.

Leaning on Trooper for support, he's finally able to stand, and starts to make his way to his room. Without lights on though, he miscalculates the distance and rams into the corner of the coffee table. Crying out as his knee is twisted, he stumbles forward, ending up on the floor with scattered magazines.