Case Report

Scott watches Jess leave, then looks down at his dog. His own hair was matted, his clothes had been slept in, and he needed a shower. But Domino came first this morning. "Come on," he invites.

Walking outside with her, he lets her go without a leash, and she sniffs around in the grass in the empty lot beside the TJY building.

Scott leans back against the bricks that had already warmed from the sun. He had heard more voices around the infirmary. Jess was still there. It was busy. He was getting more and more in the way.

He sighs and closes his eyes, letting his ears stay alert to what was going on around him. He knew he needed to go home. Susanne had done so much and made so many arrangements with people from her church, that he already had furniture, his utilities were paid for for two months and he even had a refrigerator and a microwave already. He was scared to be back on his own though. But even though no one would say it, he knew that continuing to stay here was creating a bottleneck and he was getting in the way.

Feeling Domino's paws on his legs, Scott opens his eyes again and looks down at her. "Ready?"

She gives a little yip.

"Alright. Back inside." But where would they go? The rooms were full. He aims for the office again, hoping that Dalton wouldn't mind if Domino was there too.

Getting back inside, Scott picks up one blanket, but leaves another in the corner for Domino to claim as her bed for the day. He sits down in the spare chair behind the desk and looks at the black screens of the computers. His fingers run along the outside edge of the keyboard, then strum nervously. He looks at the door, then back at the computers again. After at least five minutes of thinking, he reaches down to press the power button, turning them on.

He sits again, just staring at the computers as they boot up. Dalton had several monitors hooked up to one tower... Scott glances down to a box in the other corner that had spare parts in it. Wandering over, he finds an extra keyboard and mouse.

Within just a few minutes, he's got one monitor separated and turned, hooked up to its own tower and ready to be used. Scott moves it off to the side a little bit, trying to take up as little room as possible in Dalton's space. He knew the plans were to expand the office a little so they both had ample room, but for now, the desk was Dalton's.

Scott opens a blank document, his eye staring at it, trying to focus. He pulls on his glasses and rests his fingers on the keyboard. Taking a deep breath, he begins to type.

Case Report
Agent: Scott Johnson
For reference to be included in the Elite's history, this is the chronological account of main events surrounding my abduction by the Agency...


Distracted by the commotion in the infirmary and his own weariness, Carson doesn't notice Jess slip into the room. With his back turned, he finishes saying something to Rick before finally turning to see Jess.

Her request brings an immediate smile to his face. "Milkshakes are always available, but they come after showers. What are you doing h..." His question suddenly trails off, and the smile fades from his face. His eyes study the bruises on her cheeks and the cuts, still fresh from the night before. His eyes meet hers with an intense concern. "Jess..." His voice grows quiet. "What happened?"

His eyes glance up to see Rick, who shakes his head and mouths the silent word, "Peter."

Carson's heart skips a beat. Peter? Again? How? And how badly had he hurt Jess this time? Had it been the same? Had her dignity been torn from her again? Had anybody been there to help her? Where was Peter now?

His eyes come back to Jess', and he sees the pain. "Aw, Jess..." Without asking, he reaches to her and pulls her into a warm hug, his strong arms creating a shield around her. "I'm so sorry," he whispers. He kisses the top of her head, hating himself for having been gone. "I should have been here."

Looking up, he realizes just how crowded it is in the infirmary at the moment, and he moves to catch Misty's eyes. His gaze tells her that he'll be back and not to worry that he's taking Jess out of the chaos.

Keeping an arm around Jess, he guides her out into the hall, then away from traffic into the spare room. Turning on the light, he faces her, his eyes showing how sorry he was. Tucking her hair behind her ears, he runs a gentle hand down her face, then tilts her chin up to look at him. A lot of anger was building inside of him for what had happened, no matter the severity. The culprit deserved to pay...and pay he would. But in this moment, Jess needed tenderness, not anger.

"Are you okay?" he asks softly.


Ryder opens his eyes groggily as he feels someone start to check him over, poking and prodding around his wound. At least that's what it felt like. Without his shirt, he was cold. Or maybe he was hot. Where had everybody gone? It was hard to even remember exactly where he was, even though five minutes ago he'd known.

The room was fuzzy, and he couldn't quite make out the faces that the voices were coming from. There was a bright light overhead. He felt the sting to his wound as a woman he didn't recognize cleaned it.

Suddenly his mind takes reality and mixes it in with an old memory, confusing his already-foggy state of mind. It was the Agency... he'd been there for several weeks now. Strapped to a table, he turns his head to see his brother, just as battered as he himself was. The voices around were talking about what to do with them. Dispose of them or assimilate them. A doctor approaches with another needle. The same that had caused so much great pain, that had made him wish he were dead...

All of a sudden, Ryder lashes out at Misty, grabbing her wrist and tearing out several of the fresh stitches in his shoulder. He doesn't notice he's bleeding again. "No," he mumbles loudly. Sweat still ran down the sides of his face, his heart rate starting to race. Shoving Misty out of the way, he topples off the table, catching himself on all fours, but not before hitting the tray she'd brought, scattering the contents everywhere.

Jason is just on his way out with Katie when he whirls around. "Whoa, Ryder, take it easy."

Rick sees what's happening, and he quickly steps in to help Ryder up, but instead of acceptance, he receives his own shove, sending him back into the counter. Catching himself, Rick's eyes narrow. He didn't know who this guy was, or whether this was on purpose or due to his feverish state, but either way, he wasn't going to let him get away with it. He needed to be sedated and cleaned up so they could help him.

Rick moves quickly to grab Ryder from behind, preventing him from going to the door. "Misty, get me a sedative," he orders.

Jason comes to try and assist, but Ryder doesn't even seem to recognize him.

Rick struggles after receiving the syringe from Misty, and finally finds the right spot to inject the wild patient.

For some reason though, Ryder doesn't even respond to it. It should have taken him down in just a couple seconds, but he continues to fight with more strength than one might think his wiry frame has. Both Jason and Rick struggle to just hold him still, trying to get him back to the table.

"Katie!" Rick hollers to her. He knew she could just as well calm someone as rile them up. "A little help here would be nice!"



Mick rolls over in bed just in time to see a shadow pass the window. Thinking it just a bit odd, he glances at the clock. It was four in the morning. No one should be getting up for another hour and a half.

Concerned, but not wanting to stir up worry, he glances over his shoulder to make sure Rosetta was still asleep before he slips out of bed, barely making a sound.

Throwing on his clothes he walks quietly through the house, being sure not to make too much noise that would wake BJ. Once outside, he squints in the dim light. Dawn was coming, but the sun was not yet close enough to offer any assistance.

Suddenly his eye catches movement near the garage. Someone was entering the shop and had just turned on the lights. Odd.

Remaining cautious, Mick heads for the garage and carefully opens the door, looking in with one eye at first. He didn’t sense danger, but it was still strange.

Finally opening the door enough to step inside, he straightens, his eyes widening slightly. “Clint?”

Clint whirls around, knocking several tools off the counter. “Mick!”

Mick frowns and closes the door behind him to keep out the cold. “What are you doing out here so early?” He studies his nephew for a moment. “Or… should I say, so late?”

Clint tosses the borrowed keys back on the nail on the wall. “I was just… um…”

Mick crosses his arms and waits. “Well?”

“I…” Clint shrugs, stuffing his hands in his jacket pockets. “…Was out. Late.”

“And you’re just getting back?”

Clint nods.

Mick quirks an eyebrow. “You’ve never been one to go out partying. What’s up?”

“Well I wasn’t partying, if that’s what you think.”

“Then where have you been?” Mick knew that this had been going on for a little while now, and was determined that this morning he would get to the bottom of it. Even Jim hadn't asked. He'd respected Clint's privacy, and didn't want to be nosy, but enough was enough.

Clint sighs and leans down to pick up the fallen tools. “Working.”

“Working?” Mick’s confusion rises. “What are you talking about?”

Clint’s eyes find the floor and he tries not to yawn. He was too tired to be standing here talking to his uncle, but it looked like he’d finally been caught. He didn’t have much of a choice. “I… have a night job.”

Now Mick was really interested. “Say that again.”

Clint rolls his eyes and finally looks up at Mick with more bravery. “I’ve got a night job… in town.”

“Doing… what?”

“It’s just stocking at the grocery store, alright? No big deal.”

“But Clint… why? You’ve got a job here.”

“Yeah, well…” Clint swallows hard, looking his uncle in the eye. “It’s not enough to support a family.”

Mick suddenly realizes the intentions behind this whole thing, and he immediately softens. Though questions remained. “Does Wes know?”

“No.”

“What about Wendy?”

“No.”

“Clint, I think you should…”

“I don’t want her to worry,” Clint cuts him off. “She’s got enough to think about, especially with her mom being gone and all that. It’s just as well she doesn’t know.”

“Well she’s going to have to know sometime! I don’t know how long you’re planning on keeping this up, but you’re gonna be married in the not-so-far-off future. You think she’s not going to notice you gone at night?”

Clint throws Mick a withering look. “I just want to earn enough to give us a better start. There’s gonna be stuff that’ll need to be paid for once the baby is here and… and I don’t want to have to depend on our families.”

Mick sighs deeply. “That’s what families are for. Helping each other out.”

“Not when it’s my fault I got myself in this mess. I need to get myself out of it.”

“Is that what you’re calling it? A mess?”

Clint’s face reddens slightly. “No… I was gonna marry Wendy sometime anyway. I just… it didn't.... I mean... I hadn’t planned on being a dad this soon.”

Mick offers a slight smile. “I wasn’t all that much older than you are when Jade came along. It’s not so bad… especially when you see those eyes for the first time and hold that tiny bundle in your arms.”

“But what if I fail? What if I can’t provide? What if I’m a horrible father?”

Mick strides over to Clint to lay a hand on his shoulder. “You won’t be. You’ve got too good of a heart. Your actions to earn money are admirable, I’ll give you that. But what good will you be running on two hours of sleep every day? You’re going to wear your body out, then where will you be? That’s not fair to yourself or Wendy either.”

Clint sighs again and nods. “I know,” he responds quietly. “I just… things are gonna be tight and… I don’t want Wendy to suffer because we don’t have enough money.”

“You think you’re surrounded by family for nothing?” Mick shakes his head. “It’s not mooching, and it’s nothing to be ashamed of. All of us live off of each other every day. Those of us who stay here are practically working for just room and board. I know Rosetta and I are different, but it’s the same principles. Look at Eric. He’s on the road almost seven days a week. His paycheck keeps him there, and anything left over comes straight back here to help support this place. You think Rosetta and I are going to refuse his help because we’re too proud? Because we want to run this place all on our own?”

He forces Clint to look him in the eye. “You’re going to be just fine, Clint. If you want to hold down two jobs, that’s your business. But at least don’t make it a secret. That will only cause trouble.”

Left alone once more, Clint just stares at the closed door. Wes would be coming in soon. Wendy would show up in a little while to see if he wanted any breakfast. He sighs deeply. With shoulders dropped, he walks back out of the shop. Going to the mess hall, he finds that someone has been up extra early to make coffee. Grabbing a thermos, he fills it partway, and retrieves two mugs too. Back outside again, he aims for the little house adjoining the doctor's office.

He doesn't bother knocking - he knew Wendy was the only one here, and he wouldn't make her get up to answer the door when it was just him. He lets himself inside and wanders down the short hall to Wendy's room. Pushing the door open just a crack, he peeks in, seeing her still asleep under the covers.

Clint opens the door wider and tiptoes in, setting the thermos and mugs down on the nightstand. Easing down next to Wendy, he leans to give her lips a tender kiss. "Hey, princess," he whispers. "Coffee's on."

He knew that him being up, dressed, and smelling like the outdoors would give away the fact that he'd been up for quite a while, but... maybe Mick was right. He should tell Wendy what was going on anyway.