Maybe it's time

The guard takes down Lockheart's name and credentials, clearing her with security before taking her to a holding room. Surprisingly, she is not given any trouble, but is told simply to wait in the room that contains a small table and several chairs. A barred window adorns the door, the wall has one small barred window that gives light from the evening world.

The guard leaves Lockheart, informing her that Jason will be brought soon, and will have fifteen minutes.

Jason opens his eyes groggily as he hears the hard long strides of one of the guards. He remains curled up in a ball on the bed though, afraid to make a wrong move.

The guard appears at the bars and slides the door open. "Come on, Stevenson. You got a visitor. Says her name is Lockheart."

Though numb to most of the information he's receiving, Jason slowly sits up then stands, wincing just a bit. He holds an arm around his abdomen and ribs, still hurting from the fight he'd put up. Though not able to see himself, he knows his eyes are bloodshot…his hair is clipped short and his lack of enthusiasm takes away his tall posture. Trudging to the cell door, he feels like he's not even the same person anymore. He simply didn't have the energy to make an effort.

Walking in front of the guard, he's just glad he isn't cuffed again. Reaching the holding room, the guard lets him in, then shuts the door behind him, reminding him of the fifteen minute limit.

Jason looks to Lockheart, his eyes lacking life. It had been snuffed out so quickly. In an instant, his fire had gone out. He'd been here a matter of hours, but already the dread had settled in. This was no joke. He was in prison, and here to stay as long as the system could hold him. The nightmares of Alex now had competition.

Not even sure what good Lockheart's presence can do, Jason says nothing, but aims for a chair, sinking down into it slowly, his eyes held to the side, caught in a stare at nothingness. His mind flies from one thing to another, landing on nothing and everything. It was time he faced the facts.

Jason gives a little sigh, looking up at Lockheart. “Well…welcome to my new home.” He runs a hand over his head. “New hairdo, new clothes…room service…what more could a guy ask for?” His words attempt humor, but his tone denies him laughter.

He swallows hard and drops his gaze back down to the table. “For the record, I know this wasn’t your fault. It’s the Agency and I’m sure they’re happy now. If Medridge was aiming for misery, he won. Maybe it’s time we realize that we can’t win this war.”


Misty’s touch almost startles Carson, and he looks to her with a strange new look in his eye. “No…” He wasn’t okay. He was far from it. But he couldn’t even begin to explain what he was feeling. It was strange. It was new. It was foreign.

For the first time, he resists Misty’s touch, turning around to aim for the hall. “I’ll be down at the shooting range,” he informs over his shoulder, his tone lacking an invitation for company. “Anyone wants me, they can come get me.”


Laura smiles at Jamie, knowing the courage it must have taken for her to confront Carson like that. Laura wasn’t so sure she would have been strong enough to do that herself.

But too quickly, that victory passes, leaving the news of Jason left unsaid. Jamie needed to know.

Laura purses her lip grimly. “Jamie…the hearing didn’t go well today. Jason…he um…they found him guilty.” The words don’t seem to want to come, but she forces them out. “He’s been sentenced to forty years in prison.”

Her eyes grow dim as he thinks of her brother. “Not everyone knows yet…as far as I know, Con doesn’t know yet either.”