(300 word drabble)

“For the last time, no!” roared Murdoch to the bowed head of his dark-haired son.  “Sam’s orders are clear – nothing until this injury heals.”  He sucked in a breath and some lingering fear.  “Will another week matter?” he asked in a quieter tone, eyeing his older son as he spoke.  Scott gave him an encouraging nod, but there was a sympathetic expression on his face for his brother. 

Johnny’s head came up, blue eyes glittering.  “If you have to ask that then I guess you don’t understand,” he snarled.  “I’ve been sitting here doing nothing for five weeks, Murdoch.  I – I…” He made a frustrated sound and turned quickly away.

Scott caught him with both hands as he wavered, long fingers spread to steady him.  “You see?” he counseled softly. “Johnny…”

“Lemme go.” Johnny shrugged him off.  He wobbled again but put his back to them.  “It’s okay,” he said without turning around, placing a fist on the corner of Murdoch’s desk for purchase.  His voice lowered in dejection. “Just go.”

Scott nodded to his father and led the way out.  Johnny let out a breath as the door closed quietly behind them.  Dammit, they just didn’t understand.  He wasn’t going to take any risks.  He just wanted...

“They said no, didn’t they?”

He turned, carefully this time, and found Teresa standing by the darkened fireplace, emotion pooling in her eyes.

“Yeah,” Johnny answered wearily as he heard the sound of retreating hoofbeats.  “They said no.”

“That’s what I figured,” she nodded.  She took a breath, smiled tentatively. “Why don’t you go change your clothes?  I’ve got a horse waiting for you.”

His mouth dropped open.  Adrenalin shot through him, made him tremble, made him smile, made him want to laugh.  And he did laugh, loudly and happily.  Sweet Teresa…