Seems odd

JT wanders behind his niece, listening to her talk, and laughing about the camera.

Hearing Brent's name, he stops, furrowing his brow. "Brent... Franklin..." He shakes his head. "I... can't place the name. It doesn't seem to ring a bell..." Thinking another moment, his eyes finally widen. "Ohhh yes. Now I know. Goodness, that's been years ago. I wasn't even living here at the time. I was still in Texas, and got sent down here for some research. Wound up helping in the ER after a terrible car accident."

He scratches the back of his head, ambling back into the living room to sit on the arm of his couch. "I don't think I ever would have remembered the name, except how strange a case it was." He shakes his head. "Kid was just eighteen I think... severe head trauma. After everything was over, both his parents were dead and he had no memory of his life at all. It was just a blank. We did the best we could to help him but... there just wasn't any more we could do. By the time he was back on his feet, he had a metal plate in his head but otherwise he bounced back, physically. Always wondered what happened to him though. Interesting he's still in the area."

Still thinking a moment, he quirks an eyebrow. "You say he mentioned me by name? Seems odd."


Clint jumps as Wes approaches, taken off guard. He'd thought he was still alone. Feeling too dumb to do anything else, he lets Wes see his hand, and applies pressure when told. Still sitting on the floor, he shrugs at Wes' question.

"I'm fine." He swallows hard, the tears burning behind his eyes, wanting to overflow, but he stops them. He was responsible for all of this grief. He deserved a worse punishment than this. It was his fault Wendy had to endure having two children, and if it hadn't been for him, they wouldn't have had to endure a death of one of their babies. If he'd been smarter, he and Wendy would still be just the two of them, without this heavy burden. But he'd been stupid... whether it had taken the both of them or not, he felt fully responsible.

Staring at the bloody towel, he realizes that the cut must have gone a lot deeper than he though. He didn't even know what he'd hit his hand on inside the engine.

Getting to his feet, he wraps the towel tighter, unwilling to look up to Wes' eyes. "I have tools to pick up," he mumbles. The toolbox he'd knocked over was still waiting. "I can clean this out later."


Rick smiles, nodding to no one. "Yeah, Katie. Hang on a sec." He waves to Jeff. "Katie's on the phone for you."

Jeff lifts his eyebrows and slides off the bed, wandering in his bare feet, over to the phone. He tries to sound as chipper as possible. Rick was getting no where looking at the chip Angel had sent him, and Jeff's symptoms were getting worse, subdued only with some stronger doses of medication.

"Hey, Katie. I wondered if you'd made it home - guess you did. How ya doing?"


Scott pets Domino's head absentmindedly, still waiting. It had been an awfully long time... would Hope call him right away if it was bad news? Or would she wait? He didn't know. All he could do was pray. Surely Angelica would win... right?