Scratch

Seeing it’s useless to argue with Katie, Scott relents and lets her help clean up his mess. Sitting down at the small kitchen table, he directs her around to find what she needs, and lets her fix something to eat without complaining.

Domino seems to sense that her master isn’t up to moving around, so she follows Katie instead, wiggling with excitement as she’s finally fed.

Waiting for Katie to join him at the table, Scott gives a short, simple prayer for the food. He’s got an awful lot to talk to God about, but right now, a meal’s prayer is all he can offer.

Hurting to even open his mouth, Scott takes little bites, chewing slowly on one side, and drinking small sips of lemonade. Making it through half a sandwich, he gives up on any more.

Pushing his plate aside, he’s slouched in his chair, and looks across at Katie, his eyes showing the defeat. “Thanks, Katie…I owe ya.” He glances at the wall clock above the sink. “You should probably get back to work before you get into trouble…most likely I’ll end up conking out here anyway, and a sleeping man is never great company.” He almost smiles, but his mouth reminds him he can’t quite handle it.


Wyatt is glad to see Aerith, but right now, going out with her was the farthest thing from his mind. Staying conscious was his focus at this point. He hadn’t wanted to see anyone but Herb and Mabel, but it was a risk he’d taken.

Looking Aerith in the eye, he can see the questions in her mind, and feels bad that he can’t explain. If it were any other time than this, he might risk letting her in on the secret, but they were going public, and anyone involved could wind up in legal trouble. If they were all pardoned, it would be one thing, but if not, Wyatt couldn’t have Aerith involved now on any level, lest she get pulled down with the others.

Putting a bloody hand back to his shoulder under the jacket, Wyatt’s face is grim and tight, though he tries to convince Aerith everything is alright. “I’m okay,” he assures. “Herb’s helping me out. I just got in a little scrape is all. It’s just a scratch.”


Con looks up from his seat on the living room floor. He wasn’t sure he’d heard someone or not. “Jamie? If that’s you, I’m in here,” he calls.

Looking back down, he takes the small stack of books and puts them in the cardboard box. Folding another pair of jeans, he stuffs them into Jason’s duffel bag. Half the task was done…and with each item Con packed, the worse he felt. He didn’t want to be doing this…he felt like he was turning his back. But Carson had said that Jason had been dead serious about not coming back…and if that was true, then Con wasn’t going to fight it. It pained him to think Jason was that angry with him…but what could he do…