Stuck

Gunner scooted to the side as much as he could to make room for Bree, but really... he was glad the chair was small, just so he could feel her close to him. He leaned into her embrace and held her hand, sighing in defeat. It felt like he'd been here a hundred years already. He was so tired. So worn out from this constant fight.

He closed his eyes and nestled into her hand on his face, feeling as though he were receiving a drink of cold water after almost dying of thirst. "I can't make this decision on my own... I just can't... I don't know what to do," he repeated. Falling silent, he simply sat with Bree, unable to really process what was happening and all that was involved in this decision making process. He wasn't sure if he'd be able to make this choice when he was feeling great, let alone when he was on meds that made his brain foggy.

It was a while later when the door opened again, and JT slowly reentered the room. He came close and sat down on the edge of the coffee table, studying both Gunner and his niece. He could tell by their quietness that no decision had been made yet.

Gunner looked at him dimly. "I don't wanna go through all that," he mentioned softly. 

"I know." JT nodded. He leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "But if you don't... eventually, whatever's causing your trouble... it's just going to get worse, if not kill you. You realize that, don't you?" 

Gunner pressed himself into Bree a little more. "I guess so. But... but what if they're wrong? What if there's really no fragment at all?" 

"Then there's something else in there that they'll find and be able to fix." JT pursed his lips, his brow furrowing in an apologetic expression. "I've observed your behavior, and I've seen the test results. From a strictly medical standpoint, I am ninety percent sure that there's something physically wrong that needs to be taken care of."

"So... so if you were me... you'd do it?" 

JT sighed deeply and thought for several long moments before he finally nodded. "Yes. Because if I didn't... I know I'd wind up in worse shape than I was already and... I would take the risk."

It was at least a full minute before Gunner finally turned to look at Bree once more. "What if... what if I wind up in worse shape? What if... I lose my memory or... or I can't do things on my own anymore? I don't..." He stopped as tears filled his eyes and his voice cracked. "I don't want you to feel stuck with me." 


All Sam's touch to his hand did was serve to send another batch of tingles down his spine. How she did that, he'd never know. As she withdrew, he unwrapped another taco, more as a distraction than to satisfy his stomach. "I hope you're right." Inside though... his gut was telling him otherwise about Alison. It wasn't just that she was moving. There was more, and he could feel it. But he wouldn't argue. Sam was doing her best to make him feel better, and he wasn't going to fight with her. 

He watched the television in silence for a while - at least long enough to finish his taco and drink some of his pop. He knew this impromptu lunch wouldn't last forever though. He turned his head again and let his eyes roam Sam's face once more. "I... suppose you gotta go relieve Wyatt, huh?"