Bandaid

Jason sits in his office, once again caught between nothingness and the desire to curl up and ignore the world. He’d been stuck in a depressive state before, but nothing compared to this. He hadn’t even called JetStream yet…he hadn’t even called his own mother yet, though he figured through Austin that she knew he was out of prison. Everything he’d wanted to do when he got out had just flown out the window. All the feelings he’d wanted to gain back once he was free of those bars, had failed him. He was disappointing those around him…he wasn’t acting like himself anymore…he just wasn’t the same person.

Sighing, Jason gets up from his desk and goes to his filing cabinet to familiarize himself with what he’d left behind.


Scott’s eyes narrow slightly at Katie, a strange look passing through them. It wasn’t irritation…it wasn’t disbelief or fear…it was something…something he wasn’t going to say. “Well I certainly wouldn’t want to cross you. And besides, the Agency usually doesn’t double up on their targets, so I’m convinced it’s safe to go back.”

“Just the same, clear it with Reese,” Rick warns. “I, for one, wouldn’t want less than two people going. I…” His voice trails off as the door opens and Jason appears.

Jason opens the door slowly and looks in. He sees Scott and Katie, but doesn’t allow his eyes to dwell on them. Instead, he looks to Rick. “I need a bandaid.”

“What did you do?” Rick moves to the cabinet.

Jason enters the infirmary, trying not to make a scene – he’d forgotten Scott was here, and hadn’t expected Katie to be either. He keeps his eyes on Rick instead. “Oh, I caught my finger on a sharp edge of my filing drawer. I forgot there was a piece of metal that sticks out.” He holds out his hand to show a bleeding index finger.”

Rick frowns and steps to take a closer look. “I should clean that up for you, and it might need more than a bandaid, I’ll…”

“Rick, just give me the bandaid.”

“But…”

“Just…” Jason bites his lip so he doesn’t raise his voice. “Please…just give me the bandaid.”

Rick sighs, but takes the hint and hands Jason the small bandage. “Come back if it festers.”

Jason turns to leave, but can’t help a glance in Katie’s direction. There was so much up in the air now…so many questions…what was to happen? Feeling Scott’s eyes on him, he quickly moves to leave, letting the door fall shut quietly behind him.

Scott glances to Katie, unsure what to think, but picks right up where they’d left off. “If you do happen to go to my place, you might bring me back a magazine or two so I don’t go mad while Rick keeps me prisoner.”


Carson is taken just a little off guard by Jamie’s hug, but a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, and he gives her a small smile. “Thanks…I guess….I’ll see you around then.” Feeling a bit awkward not knowing how to draw the short exchange to a close, Carson turns around and heads slowly for his own desk.


Jim and Clint grin at Angel. “Alright,” Jim instructs. “Lead us there.”

The going is slow, but Luke does his best to support some of his own weight as father and son help him behind Angel. Soon they’ve reached the tree in the quiet field.

“All ashore who’s going ashore,” Clint quips. Along with Jim, he helps ease Luke down to sit so he can lean back up against the tree.

Jim squints at his watch. “Okay, you two, we’ll give you…half an hour?”

“Dad!” Clint slaps his arm.

Jim laughs, giving Angel a wink. “Tell you what. If Luke can’t make it back by the time you want to leave, just come get us.”

Luke looks up at them gratefully, trying his best not to be embarrassed over the whole thing. “Thanks you two.”

Jim shakes his head, unwilling to respond. “Have fun.” He nods to Clint, and both turn to head back to the ranch yard.

Luke watches them go, then turns his attention to Angel. “Well…guess maybe I need a little more faith. Looks like you got your picnic after all.”


Jeff nods to Rosetta. “Yeah, Mick never runs off without saying anything. I’ll call him in a bit.”

He’s jolted by BJ’s enthusiastic embrace around his leg, and a smile spreads across his face. “Hey, BJ!” He reaches down to return the hug. “Of course you can come help me. I always need help! So until Mick gets back, it’s just you and me.”

Grinning, he lets BJ come back out to the barn with him, changing his plans just a little. Instead of going to the pond, he takes out one of the horses, insisting that he needs help grooming it.

An hour passes. By now, BJ was back inside the house with Rosetta. Jeff looks at his watch, standing in the barn doorway. Going to the phone in the supply room, it takes him just a minute to remember Mick’s cell phone number, and he dials.

“Hey, it’s Mick. My phone’s either where I can’t find it, or I’m busy. Leave me a message.”

Jeff frowns. “Yeah, Mick, it’s Jeff. Just, uh, wondering where you’re at. It’s getting to be late afternoon, so…yeah, give us a call if you’re not gonna be back soon.”

Hanging up, Jeff gives a little sigh and aims for the house that Rosetta’s been getting ready. “Hey, Rosetta?” He pokes his head through the door. “Heard anything from Mick?”


Cindy gives Wes a reassuring smile. “I’m fine. Though rest does sound good.”

She shakes her head. “I certainly wouldn’t mind you sticking around, but you don’t have to. That’s entirely up to you.”

Thinking for a moment, she sighs. “If this bug hangs on, in a few days I’ll go see Angel to see if she’s got anything so I can kick it. In the meantime…” Her hand makes its way to Wes’. “…Stop worrying. It adds years to your life and I want you around as long as possible.”


Con drives up to the construction site and gets out, scanning the zone for someone who might look like they’d be able to point him in the right direction.

“Hey, can I help you?”

Con turns around, unsure what the medium-built man had just said, but assumes he’d asked what he was doing there. “I’m looking for work.”

The man looks to be in his late thirties, has short dark hair and deeply tanned skin, proving he’d been on this construction site for a good while. He raises an eyebrow and gives Con a once-over, needing to look up quite a bit to see his eyes. “We could use it. You done construction before?”

“Not officially, but I can read a blueprint and what I build isn’t crooked and doesn’t fall over in a breeze.”

The man grins a little and extends his hand. “Dean Houghen.”

Con accepts the handshake. “Conrad Gibbs.”

“Alright, well I’m the foreman around here, so why don’t we take a walk and see if we can’t work something out.”