On the way

By the time Misty comes, Kyle is finished trying to eat his breakfast. He'd been hungry, but the scrambled eggs from the cafeteria had quickly put an end to that longing for food.

Looking up and catching her eye, Kyle searches her face, and can see how pained she is because of all this. To be cared about felt nice, but he hated it when others hurt because of i.

As his hand rests in hers, he tightens his grip and gives it a little shake, throwing her a wink to tell her not to cry - it was okay.

Kyle's eyes remain on hers for several moments. He wanted to crack a joke to break this tension. He wanted to get up and make her laugh like he was so good at doing. He wanted to prove that life had not stopped.

"We are in the eye of the storm," he quietly manages to whisper. The Lord was his shepherd, and knowing that, he could always be in that calm, no matter how the circumstances clawed at him. "It's in here." Still holding her hand, he moves it to tap over her heart.

A grin toys at the corners of his mouth until a hoarse chuckle comes. Managing a few signs and words, he gets out, "Great promotion for JetStream, don't you think? Keyboard and backup vocals by one-handed, mute Kyle Mitts."


Jason comes back from making a call to Phil, and pauses in the doorway. He cocks his head at seeing Misty holding Kyle's hand. He knew they'd been spending more time together lately. It was no longer a surprise to anyone when they knew Misty and Kyle were out doing something - it had been rather nice to see Misty making a friend outside of TJY, and one that had distracted her from all that had gone on with Carson. Even that incident seemed a million years ago.

But holding hands? It struck Jason as just a little odd. Kyle didn't seem the type, and though obviously good friends, Misty's actions seemed a little out of place.

Shrugging it off, Jason goes to enter the room, but his phone buzzes on his belt. Rolling his eyes, he goes several feet back down the hallway to take the call.


Scott smiles and hugs Katie back, giving a laugh. He glances down to his waist where he was still having to wear a belt from all the weight he'd lost. "According to Susanne, I need some more meat on me."

He leans in to plant a kiss on her forehead, and straightens a sweaty strand of hair behind he ear. "You've been busy this morning. Having fun?"


Reese busies himself doing two other things while answering his phone, but suddenly he stops multitasking and listens to the woman on the other end. Hearing she was a friend of Carson's made him cautious, but the tone of her voice was too heartwrenching for her intentions to be bad. He had no idea just what kind of trouble she was in, but knowing that she'd called TJY meant she had to be desperate.

"Alright, Jess, you just take it easy, okay?" He talks in a quiet, soothing tone, his experience dealing with distraught people coming through. "It's going to be alright. Where are you now?" Finding out that she's at the little Italian restaurant, Reese is satisfied that she would be safe there for a while. "Okay, you just sit tight there and relax. You'll be safe there. I'll have someone come down to talk to you. We're going to help you, Jess." Ending the call, he phones in to Wyatt.


Carson looks up at Mabel's words, and glances out to the side booth. The pan he's just washed slips from his grasp, clattering loudly to the floor. He blinks and picks it up quickly, setting it on the counter. Filled with concern, he discards his apron, tossing it onto a hook and slips from the kitchen too quickly to even tell Herb where he's going.

Fast strides take Carson to Jess's table where he squats down next to the booth so he can look up at her, the question and concern filling his eyes. "Good land, Jess...what happened?"

Glancing around and noting that several customers were coming in, he decides this was not the place. "Come on." Standing up, he reaches down to gently prompt Jess from the booth, and puts an arm around her shoulder to guide her back behind the kitchen down the hall to the little room.

Getting her to sit on the small bed, he goes to the sink and dampens a washcloth before returning to her. An anger starts to burn within him. He could tell that the marks on her face were made from a fist. And there was one person he know would be stupid enough to do that.

Lightly wiping several of the cuts on Jess's face, Carson grits his teeth, keeping his tone soft. "Who did this, Jess?"