Guilty parties

Ryder hopes that he hasn't scared Thirteen with his bleeding lip as she examines the blood. But before he can try to make light of it, she's getting to her feet. Letting her go, he's just a little bewildered, though glad she'd stopped crying.

As she comes back with the damp towel, he's surprised. The coarse material makes the cut sting, but he refrains from wincing. He almost felt like if he were to pull away, he might thwart the young woman's desire to help, and she might never try again. As she studies his face, he takes the opportunity to look into her own eyes, searching for the real woman behind her gaze. Her simplicity wasn't the sign of a slow mind... but the sign of a mind that had simply not been taught. Her actions seemed almost childlike, yet there laid a woman within, who had been emotionally beaten into this state. It made Ryder's heart hurt.

As Thirteen speaks, it hurts Ryder even more. How cruel could someone be? He knew she was from the Agency... he knew she was considered a risk, or even a threat at the most. But he couldn't treat her like a common prisoner... he wouldn't.

Ryder lets out a long sigh. Not because he's weary, or because he's agitated with Thirteen. But because he felt lost. He knew what he'd like to do, but he'd never be allowed.

"You can stay here... for now, okay? But later on you'll have to... I mean, you'll..." Looking into her innocent eyes, Ryder's shoulders drop. "For now, you can stay here," he finishes lamely.

Rocking back so he can sit cross-legged, he stays facing the girl. If he could get some answers, perhaps he could avoid her having to go through an interrogation. "You mentioned your father... who is he?"


Reese sees Nate rise, and knows that his answer is the best he'll get. "Okay. You've got three days. But I'll need you back here after that."

He could tell there was more behind Nate's reasoning, but knew better than to ask. "See you in a few days."


Carson doesn't need to lift his head to know who was touching him. It was a familiar touch... it was a hand with just as much warmth as the first time he'd felt it. He sighs. He felt like falling to pieces.

At Misty's question, he gives a forced, dry laugh. "I don't know if I even know..." He grimaces. Thinking hurt. Straightening up, he gives her a sidelong glance. She knew he'd been drunk. His eyes probably still showed it. Yet she was choosing not to chew him out. In a way, it made him feel even guiltier. "It's just been... too much."

He looks around the busy hall for a moment, then back to her. "Can we go somewhere else? I need to get something in my stomach, but... I don't have my car here."


Con knocks on the front door. "Anybody home?" he calls. Not hearing anything, he lets himself in with his own key. "Laura?" He cocks his head, straining to hear. If she was calling to him, he didn't know it.

He wanders through the living room and to the hallway. He sees a light on in the back room and approaches slowly. "Laura?" Opening the door a little wider, he quirks an eyebrow.

Laura was in her shorts and t-shirt, her hands gloved. Pounding away at the punching bag that hung from the ceiling, she grunted with frustration, sweat pouring down the sides of her face. She didn't even hear her brother calling her name. Only when the lights flicker does she pause long enough to realize Con was there. "Oh... Hi."

Con looks at her for a moment, furrowing her brow. Not only was her greeting dry, but she shouldn't be doing this. "You're bleeding."

Laura looks down to see that blood had soaked through her bandage and onto her shirt. "Dang it. These bandages never do their job."

"I'm surprised you're this active at all," Con chides. "You know better."

"I can stand the pain," Laura retorts. She pushes him aside to go to the bathroom, taking off her gloves.

"Well I know that." Con follows after her. "But that's really beside the point. You should be resting and letting that thing heal. That's why the doctor let you go early, remember? Because you promised to take it easy."

"Yeah? Well that was before I decided to punch the bag instead of someone's head."

Con leans on the bathroom doorway as his sister rummages for some clean bandages. "You wanted to what?"

"Punch someone's head in!" Laura states louder. She starts to pull up her shirt and look at her wound, then realizing she's not alone, she shuts the door in Con's face.

Con sighs. "What happened?" he asks through the door. "I got to TJY and found out you were there for ten minutes then left. That's why I came over here - to check on you."

"I don't need anybody to check on me."

"What?"

"I said I..." Laura groans and opens the door back up, not caring if he saw her. He was her brother after all. "I said I don't need anybody to check on me." She grimaces as she cleans her wound and tries to rebandage it, fumbling with the tape.

Con watches her for a minute then rolls his eyes. "Will you ever learn to ask for help?"

"I don't need any help!"

"Apparently, you don't need anything today." Con reaches out to help with the bandage, ignoring her slapping his hands.

With a sigh, Laura gives up and just holds her shirt out of the way. If anybody knew how to put a bandage on, it was Con. "All I need is to be left alone," she grumbles.

"What?"

"Nothing."

Con smirks, his eyes on his task. "I hate it when you won't repeat something I haven't heard."

"And I hate your persistence."

Con finishes up with the bandage and straightens, letting Laura put everything away. "You want to talk about it?"

"No." Laura shoves past him and wanders to the living room to flop down on the couch. Her side burned like mad, but she was too stubborn to baby herself. She goes for the tv remote, but Con reaches down over the back of the couch, taking it from her hand. "Hey! Give that back!"

"Uh-uh." Con shakes his head and comes around to sit at the other end. "First, we talk. I want to know what's wrong. Why aren't you at TJY like you planned?"

Laura grabs a throw pillow to hold. "You really want to know?"

"Yes."

"Fine. Nate and I had a little argument. Well no, that's not true. He wouldn't let me have a word in edgewise."

"What was he upset about?"

"About something really stupid!" Laura throws up her hands, then winces, realizing that had been the wrong move to make. She files a mental note not to move around so quickly again. "He thinks Ryder and I have a thing going or something, the idiot."

Con lifts an eyebrow. "Well do you?"

"How can you ask me that?!" Laura looks at him in shock. "Of course not! Ryder is my friend. Period. And if Nate is gonna go all "jealous boyfriend" on me, then he can go sit in his little corner by himself until he decides to play nice. I don't have to put up with him throwing a hissy fit when I've got another guy three feet from me. It's stupid."

Con sits back and takes as minute to think. Nate wasn't one to act without thinking, or to act too quickly. No, it had to be more than this. "Why did he think you and Ryder had something going?"

"How should I know?" Laura rolls her eyes. "So the other day I was in the spare room at work, trying to rest up. Ryder comes in. We start talking. We wind up sitting on the bed, totally innocently, mind you. Nate comes in, and you could tell by the look on his face that he was peeved. Give me a break! It wasn't like Ryder and I were making out!"

Con purses his lips. "Was that all?"

"I don't know. I mean... maybe. No. But Nate didn't complain at the time! How was I supposed to know he was ticked off?"

Con just waits and says nothing, knowing his sister would continue.

Laura groans. "I don't know what he's thinking. He said so many things today I can't remember all of it. He was mad and not making much sense."

"But... something set him off today?"

"Okay, so maybe Ryder gave me a neck rub." Laura looks up to see the surprise on her brother's face. "I had a knot in my neck!" she defends. "He was being nice! And he kept his hands on my neck, thank you very much."

"I didn't say he didn't. So... that was it?"

"Well yesterday he mighta mentioned my other scar."

"The one on your other side?"

"Yeah."

"So?"

"Well he mentioned it in front of Nate."

Con rolls his eyes. "Oh that was good."

"What?! What is wrong with that? I mean, why is Nate blowing this out of proportion? Who cares if Ryder saw my scar? So what?!"

"How did he see it?"

"Well we... we were... we..."

Con waits expectantly.

"It's nothing bad," Laura snaps. "We got to talking about battle scars. He was showing off some of his from crocodiles and the like."

"And ...you showed him yours?"

"Well all I did was just pull up my shirt about an inch!" Laura demonstrates that it really didn't take much to show someone. "It's not like I took my shirt off! Or is that what you and Nate are thinking?!"

Con takes a deep breath and shakes his head, but can't get a word in.

"I wish you guys would give me the benefit of the doubt instead of jumping to conclusions!"

"So... that's what all this is about then? A scar and a neck rub?"

Laura's face reddens.

Con's eyes widen. "There's more?"

"It's all so stupid!" Laura slams her fist into the throw pillow. "Who cares if Ryder knew about the money box in my bedroom? Even you know about that! And what's a kiss on the cheek? Any gentleman can give a woman a kiss on the cheek! It doesn't mean anything!"

Con shakes his head slowly. "Uh-huh... okay."

"Well it doesn't! He's just a friend! He and I have even talked about it!"

"Right... so none of that was inappropriate."

Laura is silent, her temper still hot. "Regardless, Nate didn't have to punch Ryder."

"What?"

"He punched Ryder!" Laura repeats loudly.

"You don't have to yell! Did Ryder provoke him?"

"Ryder doesn't provoke anybody. All he was doing was walking by and Nate pounced on him."

"Right after the kiss."

"I guess."

Con groans and shakes his head. "Laura... do you really want Nate, or do you just enjoy someone there when you need them?"

Laura blinks, her face showing slight shock. "I don't understand. How can both you and Nate take me for someone like that? What have I done to give you both such a horrible impression of me? Ryder didn't mean anything by any of all this! We're just friends! He was glad I wasn't dead - that's why he gave me a kiss on the cheek. I told you about the whole scar thing. He rubbed my neck because he wanted me to feel better, not because he wanted more than that! He knew about the box in my room because I told him where it was, not because he spends time in there!" She can feel the tears finally welling in her eyes. "Can't I be friends with him?"

"Laura..." Con sighs, rising from the couch. "No matter what I say, you're going to have an excuse or reason why I'm wrong and you're right, so there's no point in me saying any more."

"But... I...." Laura stares up at him, surprised he was leaving.

"If you need something, give me a call, okay? And get some rest like you're supposed to."

"But..." Laura watches her brother head for the door and stares at it after it had closed. He'd left so suddenly. He never left like that. Why... But.... A tear runs down her cheek and she slips further down on the couch, curling up and hugging the pillow close. She was making a mess out of everything... again.


The small delivery truck pulls up in front of the office building. The driver gets out, bearing the slender parcel. Checking the address, he goes inside, finding the reception desk. "Uh, hey, I've got a package for..." He looks at the name again. "Dr. Hope Garrison?"

Giving a nod, the delivery man approaches the desk, setting the parcel down and receiving a signature. "Thanks." He tips his hat before exiting the office. "Have a good day."

No note was left to reveal who the sender actually was. There was only the box that when opened, would reveal a bouquet of spring flowers... seventeen to be exact.