No response

Feeling Katie's touch and hearing her voice, Scott starts to calm down. He shifts his head, having a hard time seeing her on his blind side. The look in his eye is hurt, confusion and fear. But it was a strange kind of fear... one that was deeper... more personal. "I'm sorry," he whispers, another tear running down his face.

Jason continues with Katie, trying to get him out to the truck.
I don't understand what he's apologizing for, but you're doing the trick... keep it up, he's calming down.

Into the truck, and into the back seat, Scott lies down. Up until now, he hadn't even felt the pain from his wound, but now it burned like nothing else. He bites his lip, trying to numb out the pain, but it didn't work too well.

Jason drives as quickly but carefully as possible, knowing that every time he hit a bump, Scott felt it to the max.

The hospital was lit up in the dark, few people coming and going at this hour. It was a blessing, as Jason and Katie are able to get Scott inside without many hassles. By now, Scott is getting lethargic, and doesn't quite know what's happening, but doesn't fight. As weak as he was to begin with, the loss of blood was not helping matters.

It seems an eternity before Scott is in a room, sewed up and in bed. Hooked up to several different things, an IV gives him nutrients that he'd been missing from lack of eating. A monitor beeps, keeping track of his pulse, though he was not in critical condition.

A doctor comes to tell Jason and Katie that they can see Scott now, and Jason leads the way, giving Katie's hand a squeeze. He knew that while Scott and Katie had no romance between them now, they were still very close, and this probably pained Katie.

Entering the small room, Jason approaches the bed with Katie. "Hey, Scott," he greets quietly. "How ya doing, buddy?"

Scott eyes him and Katie, but doesn't respond. His gaze turns back to the ceiling.

No matter what was said by either Jason or Katie, or no matter the questions, no response came.



"Here, help me." Rick drags the unconscious body into the holding cell.

Reese clears off the table in one sweep, objects clattering to the floor. "You need more help than me."

"Misty's with Angel." Rick gets the young man up on the table, checking his vitals once more. "She'll come if she has time. Otherwise, you're it."

"But..."

"Get me some water and towels."