Peace Sought

Mick feels Katie next to him and looks down. A reassuring smile makes its way to his lips and he moves to put his arm around her. He knew that look…he knew the feelings…he’d been here way to many times.

Looking at her, he realizes that she’s only a few years older than Jade. How things had come so far…how the pain had spread to the next generation…it just wasn’t fair.


Carson’s grip tightens around Misty. He wants to tell her to rest…not to talk…but he knows she’s trying to stay awake. He wants to comfort her…tell her it’s going to be okay…but no words seem adequate enough.

Rick is sitting on the opposite side of the van, completely helpless without enough supplies here. There had been too much confusion…too much chaos, and his supplies were in the other van. He could only wait until they arrived back to TJY. Taking in Misty’s words, he nods. “I know, hun, I know…you don’t worry about a thing and let us take care of you for once.”

Looking up to the front, he frowns. “Wyatt, can’t you make this thing move any faster?”

“Not and keep the rest of us alive.” Wyatt grits his teeth as he pushes the speed limit.


As Misty speaks, Carson keeps his focus on her, a slight smile making its way to the surface, just for her. “The only reason I’m hot is because of you, ya know…”

Listening to her words, feeling her touch, his emotions threaten to erupt.

As her eyes drift shut and she starts to shake, Carson takes her all the tighter. “Misty, no!” his voice raises slightly. “Come on, stay with me!”

Rick moves to kneel down next to her, remaining calm. “She’s going in to shock. We’ve got to hurry.”

Though his hands are covered in blood, Carson reaches up to move a strand of hair from Misty’s face. “Dang it, girl, don’t leave me a second time.”


Jason remains in his seat, his heart aching all the more. He had so much on his mind already…to be going through this was murder on anyone’s soul.

Suddenly the mics crackle to life. “Did you all forget about me, or what? I see one of the van’s on its way back. What’s happening?”

Wyatt’s eyes widen and he flips his mic back on. “Scott! Didn’t dad contact you? Never mind. Half of us are coming in. We got Mick. But Misty’s down.”

“Oh, no…” Scott’s voice reflects true concern. “Hey, Katie…you still there? You alright?”

Jason takes a finger and pulls his headset off with just a little force, the sound of the conversation removed from his ears. He focuses his eyes out the window, his working jaw muscles the only sign of his tension.


Rick looks to Nate and nods. “When we get back, you help me and Carson get Misty inside. And I’ll need all the help I can get in the infirmary once we’re there.”


…The door of TJY bursts open as the small group walks onto the main floor, their faces telling their story.

Carson has Misty in his arms as he carries her quickly behind Rick, accepting some help from Nate.

Once in the infirmary, Rick takes one swipe at the table, sending the old bedding and anything else flying onto the floor. Rolling up his sleeves, he dons sterile gloves and preps the table, directing Carson to lay Misty down.

Rick start to bark orders to both Carson and Nate. The door to the infirmary is shut, and work is started. Carson is directed to give Misty oxygen and keep track of her pulse, while Nate is recruited to hand him the necessary tools.

It takes Rick longer than he’d like to locate the bullet and draw it out. He’s just setting it aside, when Carson alerts him.

“I’m losing her pulse, Rick…” Panic sets in. “I’ve lost it.”

Moving quickly, Rick shoves Carson out of the way, unhooking Misty and starts working on her chest, pressuring her heart. “Come on, Misty…” After several moments of trying to revive her, he feels her throat again. “Pulse. Carson get back here. Nate, help me sew her up.”

It feels like an eternity before Rick has done all he can, and has Misty resting on the bed, hooked up to an IV.

Carson paces like a caged animal, while Rick sets to work studying the bullet under the microscope, then doing an analysis on the casing. “Oh, no…”

Carson spins around. “What? What is it?”

“Poison.”

“The same stuff?”

Rick nods grimly. “We need to get the antidote in her, and fast.” Once again, he’s back on his feet, moving to retrieve a syringe of the antidote that Misty herself had prepared. Injecting it into her vein, he pulls back, heaving a weary sigh.

Carson’s bloodshot eyes search his. “Now what?”

“We wait.”


Scott is on his feet when he sees the team enter TJY. One hand to his side, he approaches quickly, looking for Katie. “What happened? I thought everything was fine.”


Mick hangs back from the group a little, just slightly in shock to be here at TJY…he’d really had no idea it was this big. He wanders by himself for a few minutes, just trying to get his bearings…Jason and Katie were the only two people he knew here.


Jason watches Nate and Carson help with Rick, and knows that he would be in the way if he tried to help any more. He starts to wander forward, but catches sight of Scott and automatically bristles. Instead of staying with the group, he turns around and heads back for the exit.

“Hey, Jason,” Wyatt tries to stop him. “We need a debriefing when the others get back. Where are you…” His voice trails off as he realizes it’s useless. The door shuts after Jason, signaling his departure.

Mick lifts an eyebrow. “What’s up with that?”

Wyatt throws his arms in the air. “You name it. Prison…lost love…whatever. Just plain bad attitude?”

“You mean he and Katie…”

Wyatt shakes his head and thumbs in Scott’s direction.

Mick raises his brow. “Oh, I see. Jason just got out of prison, didn’t he?”

“Yeah. He hasn’t been doing so great.”


Jason doesn’t know where he’s going. His mind is occupied with too many things. He starts for the lake, then opts not to…that would just make things worse. He starts for the apartment, but realizes he doesn’t want to be alone with his own thoughts. He aims for Mike’s, but then doesn’t want to get hounded with questions from the guys.

Finally after turning around at least five times, Jason winds up parking in front of Mom and Pop’s out of sheer frustration. Killing the engine, he aims for the door. It was late…it was nearing nine o’clock at night. They would be closing soon. But he just wanted his quiet corner booth…something to drink…a peaceful atmosphere to calm his nerves.

Entering, the bell dings, but for once, he ignores Mabel at the counter to simply trudge to the familiar table and sink down into the booth. He folds his arms on the table and leans down to rest his forehead on them.