Medical Situation

Scott listens to Dalton, unsure what to think. He just sits for a moment, staring at the computer screen until he turns to see the Mountain Dew offered.

Contemplating, he shrugs and accepts. Leaning back in the chair, he flips the top, but only takes a small sip, unsure if his stomach would really appreciate the concentrated dose of sugar and caffeine.

Looking back at the computer, he stares at the program. “Dalton… my mind may not be functioning… but you can’t tell me that you don’t know how to fix this.”

He glances down, running his thumb along the pop can rim. “I…know you’re just trying to be nice… I don’t understand why… though I guess I appreciate it." He shrugs. "When I had this job, I always wanted an extra set of hands, so I know that even though you're smart enough to figure all this stuff out that it wouldn't be hard to fill two jobs. But..."

He concentrates on fiddling with the pop can tab. "...I don't think I'd be much help to you. Even... even if Austin would let me back, which would be a miracle. I just... I don't know if I can handle it anymore." He swallows hard, feeling a bit of heat come to his face as he recalls how stupid he's felt lately. "Things are different and... this is your office. Not mine... not ours... yours. And..."

Scott hesitates, the emotions suddenly back again. "This was the only place I ever fit in, ya know? It was my life. But... maybe I'm just not cut out for it any more. Maybe Austin's right. I just... I can't handle anything anymore, let alone this job." He takes another sip of pop, his hand shaking slightly.


Carson winces as Herb comes to help with his hand, doing as he's told. "Yeah, yeah... I don't know what I did. Guess I just wasn't watching it."

Hearing Mabel's statement, he rolls his eyes. "I seem to be in Neverland a lot lately."

Waiting for Herb to get the bandage out, Carson puts pressure on his wound, but the bleeding continues. "Doesn't want to stop," he mutters. It was a lot deeper cut than he'd like to admit, and it was already throbbing.

He lets Herb take over, too clumsy with one hand to do it himself. Hearing the question, he sighs. "Oh, I don't know, Herb..." Carson had gotten used to being able to talk to Herb... if there was anybody he trusted, it was him. It had taken him a while to get to that point, but now Herb was one of the few that Carson would talk to.

"I broke up with Jess last night," he finally admits quietly. "That's complicated in itself. I don't know what to do, I don't know where I fit... I don't know what my purpose is... I just..."

He's cut off as Mabel enters the kitchen with the bag. Still holding his bleeding hand over the sink, he peers inside, confused. Then realizing what it was, his eyes widen. He looks up quickly to Mabel again, trying to say something, but the words get stuck in his mouth.

Swallowing hard, he withdraws his hand from Herb, ignoring the pain and blood for a moment, in order to remove the sandwich from the bag. Staring at it, he can feel his insides melt. Misty. But…why? His mind reels. What was she doing? Why had she done this? He didn’t… he hadn’t… he…

His favorite meal… she knew… she remembered.

As if Herb and Mabel didn’t even exist, Carson suddenly exits the kitchen. Holding his hurt hand against his shirt, he ignores the blood stain it creates. Taking a few steps down the back hall, he goes for the phone and dials the number he somehow still remembered.

Hearing Rick’s voice on the other end of the direct line to the TJY infirmary, Carson clears his throat and asks for what he called for. Though not giving much information and knowing Rick was totally confused, Carson leaves it that way and hangs up. Leaning up against the wall, he closes his eyes for a moment, trying to regroup before finally going back to the kitchen.

Grimacing, he puts his bloody hand back under the sink’s running water. “I don’t think this is gonna hold with a bandage,” he mutters.


Rick hangs up the phone, his eyebrows lifted. He blinks, then furrows his brow, confused. He’d gotten back into the infirmary from Austin’s office just in time to grab the phone. Turning around, he calls across the room to Misty. “Uh… Misty? You’re needed for a medical situation down at Mom and Pop’s. I suggest taking a first aid kit.”