Hesitation

Bret keeps his arms around Charlotte, a smile spreading at her forgiveness. "It was good," he replies. "No... it was great." His eyes shine again, proving his passion for the sport. "But it will be even better next time... because I'm going to insist you go with me."

Giving her a tight squeeze, he finally lets her go and aims for the door. "Your pick on where we go..." He stops, turning back around to throw her a teasing look. "Just as long as I don't have to change my clothes."


Austin is roused from his drowsy state as he sits on the couch. The tv was still going, but he was unsure of the time. What had woken him anyway?

Suddenly it dawns on him that it had been the door. Someone was here.

Rising quickly, he stubs his toe on the coffee table and stumbles forward, wincing and holding back the curse that wanted to come. Trudging in his stocking feet, jeans and wrinkled tee, he makes it to the door, unlocking the deadbolt, then the knob.

Opening it just as crack, he squints in the dim light. But instantly his eyes widen. “Angel?”

His shock is evident, and he quickly pushes open the screen and steps aside, inviting her inside. “What are you doing here?” he asks, confused. “Someone said you’d been working with Misty, but…” He lets his sentence trail off, realizing that to say he hadn’t had time to see her sounded like he cared a whole lot less than he really did.

“I mean…” He searches her tired eyes, his own slowly revealing the mixed emotions that no one had been allowed to see lately. “Is anything wrong?”


Kyle watches Misty as she speaks, his eyes on a journey, searching for feelings... searching for meaning. Though standing motionless, it felt as though he were reaching out, only inches away from what he most wanted, but he could not stretch far enough to overcome the distance.

He knew Misty was trying to soften the blow. He knew she was trying to encourage him despite what this evening had become. He knew it in his mind, but his heart had yet to accept it. It was such a foreign feeling to him. He'd never gotten close to any woman other than Misty, and now it was misery that spoke to him, telling him why that was. He hated the pain. He hated feeling the fool.

Better to have loved and lost? Tonight it felt like a poor lyric, lost in an ocean of pain that could really care less about feeling better right now.

But rather than lash out with sarcasm like he wanted, he refrained. Misty was doing her best, and he had to respect that.

Watching her walk away, he just stands, helpless to stop this chain of events. Still not moving, he watches Misty get into her car, his eyes following the taillights until they disappear down the street. There was noise all around. Cars, people, dogs barking... but it was all drowned out, leaving Kyle in an empty world of silence.

He finally takes a deep breath and turns around to go back to his truck. Though he wanted to scream, he didn't. Though he wanted to hit something, he didn't. So much more had happened tonight than the simple concert it had been intended to be. So much more was going on in his heart and mind than anyone knew about. It was just so... hard.


Rick is gentle with his words to Katie. He hated seeing his friends like this. "I'm not positive why it was different, Katie. I've just been trying to help you guys based on my own theories. But I think what happened tonight was that Jason's emotions got to the boiling point, but they couldn't erupt like usual. Because they feed off his flashbacks... but he'd succeeded in burying those memories too deeply and wasn't letting them surface. So... it was just like he was a time bomb there, gaining more and more pressure. You helped release enough energy to pull him partway out of it, but it wiped you out, and then I..."

He sighs and shakes his head, still feeling rotten, even if it had been necessary. "...I provoked Jason's flashbacks. Once it occurred, the aftermath was the same."

Jason's eyes are down, even though he receives Katie's attempt to reassure him.

It's not going to be okay. Not as long as this keeps happening. What would have happened if Rick hadn't been around? We both could have died tonight, Katie... There's got to be a way to stop this.

When Katie relents to staying all night, Scott glances to Rick, questioning the arrangements. He didn't feel put out in the least - he simply didn't know where he fit tonight.

Rick thinks for a moment, letting a pause linger as the tension continues to settle down. "Jase, why don't you..."

"I'll take the spare room," Scott interrupts. "That way, you can... stay here and watch or... or whatever."

Rick lifts an eyebrow, noting that it was one of the first times he'd seen Scott take initiative in a long time. "You sure you're okay with that?"

Scott nods, even though a knot had formed in his stomach. "Just as long as I can keep the door open... if that's okay."

"Sure it is. I'll keep my eye open too and so will Hal. If you need anything, you just holler, okay?"

Scott stands up and glances to Katie. "I hope you feel better in the morning," he offers quietly. His eyes roam to Jason where he gives a little nod, then heads slowly out the infirmary door to the next room down where there was a bed.

Rick turns to Jason. "There's some blankets there in the closet. Help yourself. There's a folded cot in there too - it would be softer than the examining table if you want. I'm going to go make sure Scott gets settled and check in with Hal. Then I'll be around for the night."

Jason is quiet and when Rick leaves, he slides off the table to get some clean blankets. Moving to Katie first though, he sits down on the edge of the bed, now alone with her. Looking at her tired eyes, he takes her hand for a moment.

I really am sorry. Even when I know better, I keep messing this thing up. Even when I think I know how to handle it, I somehow manage to fail and put us both through this all over again. I know you don't like me apologizing, but... let me, okay?

Leaning down, he gives her lips a tender kiss. "Get some sleep," he advises quietly. "Tomorrow we'll both be feeling better."

Without even thinking twice, he helps Katie get her shoes off, then pulls the blanket up over her, tucking her in. He knows how tired she is, and knows that it will only be a matter of minutes before she's asleep. And it is...

Jason rolls over on the cot at the other end of the room, finding it uncomfortable. Fighting with the blanket, he tries out the floor next, but even though it doesn't hold the same bumps and lumps as the cot, it's cold. Despite his exhaustion, sleep just wasn't coming.

Frustrated, he tries the table again, but even with a warm blanket and soft pillow it doesn't provide enough comfort so his body can relax.

Rising once again, Jason sighs, blanket in hand. He could go to his office... his chair wasn't all that uncomfortable. And Rick would be in here to keep an eye on things, so his absence wouldn't matter.

Arriving at the doorway though, Jason stops. Turning around, he glances back to Katie's sleeping form. He didn't want to leave her. Not tonight.

A sigh is followed by him turning back inside. Making up his mind, he eases down quietly behind Katie, pulling his own blanket over himself. Curling up on his side, he reaches around Katie's waist from behind, gently with a strong arm to tuck her closer next to him, sharing the edge of her pillow. Feeling her heartbeat next to him, his eyes fall closed, and almost instantly, he's asleep.

Rick wanders back into the infirmary and for a moment, he thinks Jason is gone. Then spotting him with Katie, a small smile forms. Those two had something special... and Rick wouldn't interfere this time. He'd leave them be tonight.


Gram returns to the kitchen, opening her mouth to say something, but stops, pausing in the doorway. Looking down at her grandson, her face softens.

She'd left him five minutes ago at the table with a plate of freshly-baked cookies and a glass of milk. Usually, that was plenty of time for him to down at least two of the cookies, and never mind how fast the milk would be gone. But tonight, both had gone untouched.

She walks up slowly behind him, knowing he knew she was there, even though he was bent forward with his head resting on his arms. Laying a hand on him, she gently rubs his back just like she used to do when he had been a child.

"What's wrong, Kyle?"

Kyle keeps is face hidden in his arms that rested on the table, but shakes his head slowly. "I don't know."

Gram runs her fingers up to his hair, but stops, a slight grin curling her mouth. "Did you use gel or super glue?"

Kyle can't help a light laugh, and finally straightens up. "Gel."

"Mm." Gram moves around to pull out another chair and sit across from him. Her words are quiet and unassuming. "Why aren't you out with your friends tonight?"

Kyle shrugs and reaches for a neglected cookie, nibbling at it slowly. At the moment, he could allow himself to dwell on the concert and not the rampant thoughts about him and Misty. "I guess I did something I shouldn't have."

"Like what?"

He shrugs again. "It's a long story, Gram. Don't really want to get into it now."

She nods, respecting his privacy. Taking a cookie for herself, she lets the silence go, wise enough to know that some portion of the story would come out.

Kyle traces a mark on the table with his thumbnail, remembering the time a platter had been dropped on it, making a notch in the table. He and Phil had both gotten into trouble for that one.

Sighing, he finally takes a sip of his milk. "You ever do something that you always wanted to do, and felt so good about it... so proud of yourself... just to find out afterward that others were unhappy with it?"

Gram furrows her brow, chewing thoughtfully. "I don't think so..."

Kyle shoulders drop a little. Not that he'd expected her to say yes, but maybe he'd hoped for some understanding.

"...But your father did."

Kyle looks up quickly. The family could talk about his father, but usually didn't, especially when he was around. Usually the others avoided it for his sake, and he knew it. It was unusual for Gram to bring it up. "When?"

Gram chuckles. "He was a rebel, your father. Loved music. And I remember one time, he was in high school. He had joined a garage band." She smiles at the memory. "He didn't tell us about it though, because he knew we'd be against any kind of rock music at all. Oh, but he loved it... he loved it so much. And finally, one day, he decided that he'd show us just how far he'd come, and how good he was singing, and on his guitar."

A grin plays with the corner of Kyle's mouth. "But you didn't like it."

"We hit the roof." Gram starts to laugh, her eyes twinkling. "Oh my goodness. We walked out on the first song. The lyrics were fine and clean - they even sang good songs about God. But it was too loud, too rambunctious, and too close to rampant noise to us."

Kyle's grin comes out as Gram continues, imagining how it must have been.

"Your father came home afterward. Gramps and I were both ready to chew him out and tell him he'd never be allowed back in that band again. But I'll never forget the look on his face." Gram's expression sobers. "He had been crushed, because he knew we hated what he loved so much."

"So what happened?"

"We sat down and talked to him about it. Gramps and I decided that as long as the lyrics were good, and they were because your father had written most of them, that he could stay in the band."

Kyle gives a little laugh. He had never heard that story, and it was interesting to find out about it now. "I knew he liked to write music, but I didn't know he'd been in a band. What happened to them?"

"Well, I guess the guys all went their separate ways after high school, so it ended by itself." Gram lets out a long sigh. "But he'd had the experience of a lifetime, and had lived his dream to be in a band, even if it was on a small scale. He always was a go-getter, even after that. He was the one to go against the flow and be different, even when not everybody would follow him." She cocks her head, a gentle smile still present. "Out of all three of you siblings, you're the one that has carried on the Mitts spark, Kyle. Gramps has it, your father had it and you have it."

She pauses once more and reaches out to turn Kyle's head so she can see his eyes. "Ever since you were a baby, I knew you were the one that had that fire in you. But somehow... recently, something has started to snuff it out." The concern and love in her voice comes through. "Whatever happened tonight, Kyle... don't let it destroy your dreams."

Kyle swallows hard, finding it difficult to control his emotions. "But what if that dream isn't meant to be?"

"God doesn't give us dreams to taunt us, Kyle. There's always a reason." Gram gives him an encouraging smile. "But we can't always control the timing. Sometimes dreams take years and years to realize. Other times they come right away. And sometimes... they're realized even if we can't see it."

"What do you mean?"

"I knew a young man once who wanted to be a doctor so very badly. But... he didn't have the money to go to school. It was his dream to work in a big hospital and help people. But... it never happened."

Kyle furrows his brow, not sure where she was going with this. But he listens.

"Years later, he was sitting in church, just being a shoulder to someone who needed it, like he often did. And when he suddenly saw that he was helping so many people there, he realized that God truly had given him his dream. He had wanted to help people. He might not have been a doctor to do it. But he was indeed helping so many people. His dream did come true. It just came in a different package than he expected."

Kyle looks down for a moment, then back up, his half-grin having returned. "Gramps."

Gram nods. "Yes. Your father had a little dream that was realized early on, then stayed in his heart as a cherished memory until the day he died . Your grandfather had a dream that was realized in ways he couldn't imagine at the time." She pauses before extending her hand to place it over Kyle's heart. "And you have dreams too. I don't know what they are, but you do. And you're tempted to give up for whatever reason. But don't give up. God's got a plan for you. Maybe you made mistakes, and maybe things just aren't falling into place. But there's a path there...somewhere, there's a path. Don't let that fire in you die out."


Carson eyes Jess with suspicion. "You think I'd believe you were just an innocent bystander?"

After hearing Jess razz Joel, then receiving her wink, Rocky intervenes. "Well you can at least believe the part about the pizza," he teases.

"Yes, now that I do believe." Carson grins at Jess, while nodding to Axel. "Just don't let this scallywag fool you. If there's anyone who doesn't need protection, it's him."

"Hey." Axel gives him a withering look. "You're not helping me any here."

"I didn't think you needed any."

Axel stops for a moment. "Come to think of it, I don't. Aren't you supposed to be cooking or something?"

Carson grins. "Alright guys... what'll ya'll have?"

"Pizza!" Joel shouts.

"Hush up, Joel," Max chides. "Remember, you're not suppose to speak anymore tonight."

It's not long before Carson is serving them their pizza's, baked to perfection. Laughter and chatter surround the table with teasing, talk of the concert and more. Axel is the quietest of the group, but it's no surprise. Sitting at the far corner, he's the farthest away from any of the others. To some they might not think a thing of it - to the rest of Cryptic, they knew well that he'd created the space around himself that was most comfortable.

A war of straw wrappers breaks out at one point, but overall he table remains well-behaved into the late evening. Eventually, some eyes begin to grow heavy, and a round of yawns ensues. Max is the first to get up and stretch, admitting how tired he was. A slap to the back of Joel’s head, gets him to stand as well, and after quick farewells, the two take off for the night.

The talk is light and a bit sparse after they leave, most knowing they should call it a night, but no one really wanting to. Carson has joined them to sit and talk, the food long since gone.

During a lull in conversation, Rocky looks to Phil who had been fooling with his cell phone. “Problems?”

Phil shakes his head. “Nah…” He sighs and pockets the phone again. “Just trying to get a hold of Kyle.”

“No luck?”

“No… either he let his battery run down again, or he’s just ignoring me. Probably it’s the latter.”

Rocky purses his lips in thought. “Well… knowing Kyle, he’ll be alright. He probably just needs some time alone. Tomorrow I’ll…”

He’s unable to finish his sentence as suddenly, the front door flies open. Three men in ski masks barge in, sawed-off shotguns in hand. “Nobody move!” the ringleader barks.

Everyone at the table jumps, and Jen giving a slight shriek of surprise. The men are on their feet in an instant, but back off as the guns are pointed at them. Axel’s eyes are quick to take in the scene, every bit and piece burned into his memory. Rocky’s jaw tightens, the fear turning to adrenaline in his veins. He instinctively reaches down beside him to set a hand on Jess’ shoulder, warning her not to move.

One of the masked men throws a duffel bag on the floor, and nervously looks out the window. Sirens could be heard in the distance. The ringleader moves closer to the little group, threatening with his gun. “You folks just settle down here. As long as the cops cooperate, you’ll be out of here in no time.”

Carson’s hands are held to the sides like the others, his eyes glazed with anger. His mind works quickly. The bank down the street. Something must have gone wrong with a robbery, and now they were seeking shelter here until they came up with another plan. “Let us go,” he advises. “You don’t need us.”

“Shut up!” The man comes a step closer, seeming to enjoy the fact that the two women in the group were terrified. “Talk and you die. Got it?” Several nods seem to satisfy him, and he backs off just a little bit.

Phil eases back a couple steps closer to Jen, in an effort to keep her calm, even though fear and worry coursed through his eyes. Axel and Carson were left in the forefront, a barrier to the thieves. Only once does Axel dare to turn his head just enough that his peripheral vision could make sure Jess was okay behind him. Rocky gives him a little nod.

A cop car suddenly appears outside, and one of the men carelessly shoots. The front window of the restaurant shatters, a million pieces of glass flying in all directions. Jen cries out in surprise, sliding further to her brother in fright. Axel stands his ground in front of Jess, and Rocky beside her, forming a shelter, as Phil tries to keep Jen calm, and Carson remains cool despite the development. The policemen outside quickly exit their car and move to the back for protection, shouting orders.

The three men inside pace and grow more nervous. “Man, it wasn’t supposed to happen this way,” the short one complains.

“Shut it,” another growls.

“What are we gonna do? Heath never showed up, so we’re stuck here without a car, and…”

“Both of you idiots shut up!” The ringleader whirls around, threatening his partner. “We’ll get out of here, alright.” He moves to the small group again, aiming for Jen.

Phil blocks his path angrily. “Don’t you dare,” he threatens.

“Or what?” The thug laughs, pointing his gun at them. “Move,” he orders. “Or somebody dies.”

“Phil,” Carson directs quietly. “Do as he says.” He knew the desperation of these men. He knew that if the group didn’t cooperate, those thieves would have no problem in killing them. Though his own fear pumped through his veins, he kept it in check, letting logic rule his actions. “It’ll be okay.”

Jen quivers, but is helpless. Unable to stop anything, the others watch in sickening fear as the guy takes Jen’s wheelchair toward the entrance of the restaurant, stopping, then pointing his shotgun at her. “You cops out there!” he shouts. “Make a move, and the girl dies! Got it?!”

The next few minutes are tense and filled with a fear that none of the group had ever wanted to face. Though everything was happening quickly, it felt like an eternity. Phil’s eyes never move from his sister. Quiet tears run down Jen’s face as she waits, a silent prayer constantly on her lips. Rocky stands firm, but has no idea what to do, only able to offer a reassuring squeeze to Jess’ shoulder. Carson is still in the front, his eyes keeping track of every little move. And Axel’s gaze remains steady, first checking on Jess again to give a slight nod, then landing on Carson to study his movements.

More police arrive. Indeed, it has been a robbery gone bad. The thugs wanted a bargain – their freedom for the lives of those inside the restaurant. A negotiator arrived within another ten minutes, the ticking clock only serving to heighten the tension.

By now, Jen was kept with a shotgun pressed to her head, while the others were forced to remain where they were, not allowed to move. It was a nightmare that had taken over reality.

“…we’ll get you the helicopter,” the negotiator calls from the sidewalk. “But let one of the hostages go first.”

“No!” The ringleader tightens his grip on his gun. “Your tactics aren’t gonna work on me. I want what I asked for now! We’re not leaving until we get it, and we’re not letting anyone go!”

Carson’s eyes roam the room. He was feet away from one thug, the other was several more feet away with his focus on the back door, and then there was the one who had Jen. There was a cop outside with a gun drawn, aiming inside in case anything went down. A broom was in the corner. And it had been too long. If the thieves hadn’t given up now, they weren’t going to. The only thing that would happen is that someone would die, and the first to go would be Jen, if something didn’t happen, and soon.

Axel’s voice comes low enough that the thugs don’t hear. “You got it, don’t you?” He’d been studying Carson and could see the wheels had been turning.

Carson’s fingers flex by his sides. He did. He had it all mapped out, and knew exactly what it would take. It’s what he was good at. It’s what he was trained for. But he couldn’t do it.

Axel’s eyes stay glued to him. “Why are you hesitating?” he hisses.

“I can’t do it,” Carson whispers back, his voice wavering as he looks at Jen’s trembling form. “I left that behind.”

Axel grits his teeth, waiting until one of the thieves turned around before speaking quietly again. “You’re the only one who can end this, Carson, and you know it.”

Carson’s voice is desperate and strained. “But it’s not who I am anymore.”

“Are you going to let Jen die?” Axel wasn’t about ready to take excuses. Not now. He saw as much as Carson did, and could tell anyone exactly where any object was in the room. But he didn’t have the skills. He forces Carson to glance over to him to see his eyes. “For such a time as this.” His quote from Esther hits home. They’d just studied those verses last week.

Carson swallows hard. He could see the ringleader’s finger twitching on the trigger. Could he live with himself if Jen died, and he could have saved her? He knew the answer to that, and it was no.

His body tenses, his eyes narrowing. The policemen’s orders from outside is just the distraction he needs. Before any of the thugs could see him, he’s unbuckled his belt and ripped it through his jean’s belt loops. The middleman turns around at the sound.

“Hey, wha…”

Too late, the leather’s buckle-end is brought across his face, bringing his sentence to a wail of pain. His shotgun is dropped to the floor, and he falls to his knees.

Though seeing the guy in the back whirl around with his gun, Carson aims for the ringleader instead. A shot is fired.

Axel ducks, and Phil steps back. Rocky doesn’t hesitate, and in an instant, he’s knocked Jess to the floor to avoid the spray of buckshot, covering her protectively.

Carson dives and rolls a summersault, grabbing the broom in the corner. Another shot is fired – this time from a cop outside, just as Carson had predicted, and the second thief is taken down.

The ringleader is startled, his shotgun drawing away from Jen just far enough for Carson to take the risk. The broom handle goes up, and so does the gun, flying through the air. The thug hurls a curse at Carson and lunges at him.

Carson is hit hard, brought to the floor with a punch to his jaw. But his strength and expertise win out, and in an instant, he’s got the thief pinned to the floor, twisting the guy’s arm behind his back, and pressing a knee into his back.

By the time a police officer is relieving Carson, Axel has pulled one of the guys up off the floor who had a bloody face from the belt buckle, and the third is being dragged away with a bullet wound to the shoulder. Phil is immediately next to his sister, pulling her into a hug that’s returned with tears and trembling arms.

And… just as quickly as the reign of terror had descended on the restaurant, it ends, leaving a mess of broken glass, relief that lives had been spared, and a sickening reminder of what could have been.

Phil is taken to the side, a target for questioning by the police, while a female officer sees to Jen to make sure she’s alright.

Rocky withdraws from Jess to crouch next to her, helping her sit up, and brushing some broken glass out of her hair. His eyes are filled with worry and apology in case he’d scared her even more. Carefully, he helps her to her feet. “Are you okay?”

Carson looks around the room, making sure everything really was over, and ensuring that Jess was being taken care of as well. Axel follows his gaze, and is also reassured that she was not hurt or alone.

Looking back to Carson though, his eyes take on a different stare. “Good job.”

Carson smirks. “Bringing guys down isn’t something I should be that proud of.”

Axel sets his hands on his hips, able to see that this was so much bigger an issue than just this one event. “If it wasn’t for you, Jen would probably be dead right now.” He pauses in thought. “You have skills, Carson. Ever think maybe God gave them to you for a reason?”

Carson frowns. “But… who I was…”

“Being able to knock a guys block off wasn’t who you were,” Axel states flatly. “You had bad intentions. You beat guys up for all the wrong reasons.”

“Exactly. I don’t want to go back to that.”

“But you just proved that you can beat guys up for the right reasons.”

Carson bites his lip. “But…action… feels good.”

“So?” Axel shrugs. “It’s in your blood. Actions aren’t the problem, don’t you see that?” He shakes his head. “You have passions, taught or inbred, it doesn’t matter. The more you try to change your core, the worse time you’re going to have. Stop trying to leave behind you, Carson. Leave behind the bad intentions and the bad habits. But don’t leave behind the man who was strong… the man who will jump into the fire just because he likes to prove he won’t get burned.”

Carson cocks his head, a smile quirking just the corner of his mouth. “That’s about the most you’ve ever said in one setting.”

Axel gives a soft chuckle. “Maybe. But do you see what I’m trying to say?”

“I don’t know.”

“There was a reason you were here tonight,” Axel emphasizes. “You can use your skills and your passions for good. Give up the bad. Don’t give up you.”

“But I was the bad.”

“No you weren’t.” Axel shakes his head, almost frustrated. “Your intentions were.”

Carson groans and rubs his forehead tiredly. “I’m just glad everyone is okay and safe, and it’s over. Why are we talking about me anyway?”

Axel is quiet for a moment. “Because you hesitated.”

Carson lifts his eyebrows, but doesn’t have time to respond as he’s approached by a police officer to take down some extra information.

Axel leaves him be, and wanders back to the table where Rocky and Jess were. He looks at her with a bit of concern, his eyes searching her own. Though he could see Rocky had been helping her, the redundant question still rose. “You alright?”

Finished with the officer, Carson looks around to Phil, Jen, then Axel, Jess and Rocky. The restaurant was a total mess. He’d be here for hours cleaning up for the morning. Everything had happened so quickly. But now there was one thing that bothered him more than anything else. He really had hesitated. He’d hesitated to save someone’s life. Had he really gone that far? Had he really walked that far away from who he used to be? That didn’t feel right either. Was Axel right? Were there parts of himself that he could still hold onto that weren’t bad in themselves?