This is a piece of fan fiction. It is written for pleasure and not for
profit. The characters Steve and Mark Sloan, Jesse Travis and Amanda
Bentley/Livingstone and Captain Newman are borrowed for the purposes of
this story. All other characters are my own.
Summary: Steve is the victim of a serial sexual attacker. He, his father and his friends have a difficult time coming to terms with what has happened to him and he ends up on the psych ward at Community General hospital, a suicide risk. He is befriended by one of the other patients, a young woman who starts him on the road to recovery. Meanwhile, one of the attackers victims dies increasing the stakes as the others try to capture him and Steve's life may be in danger again as the attacker has some connection with Community General
This is a difficult subject which I have tried to treat sensitively. It is not about the attack it is about people's reactions to it. So there is little or no mention of what actually happens.
The content of the attacks is not detailed here, but the idea is, I would therefore rate this story as at least a 15
Part 1-The Attack
Steve felt like he was back in high school. He'd just met a beautiful woman and the evening had been extremely pleasant up to now. She was great company and to say the two of them had hit it off would be a major understatement. Things were looking good for making breakfast plans together, and now here he was in the corridor outside the restrooms phoning his dad to say not to expect him home. At his age!
Still with all that had happened recently he did not want his father to worry. So here he was sneaking out to the men's room to make the call. He got the answer phone, his dad must be working late. "Hi dad, just me. I got a date tonight and things seem to be working out, so I'm just calling to say..um.. Don't wait up for me and don't worry. See you tomorrow." He hung up, smoothed back his hair and walked back into the restaurant.
Stacey was sitting at the table playing with her tennis bracelet waiting for him. She looked a little nervous, as though she was worried he might not come back. Her face broke into a huge smile as she spotted him returning and this made her look even more stunning. She was tall, brunette, and had what Steve considered to be a perfect figure. Not for the first time since he had met her just a few short hours ago, Steve wondered what he had done to deserve such luck.
"I got us another round of drinks," she said as Steve sat down.
"Thanks," he said picking his up and taking a mouthful.
"And then I thought we could move on to somewhere a little more," she paused, "intimate"
Steve didn't know whether to be flattered by her desire to take things further or intimidated by her forwardness. He tried to be a 'new man' but was always a little taken aback when the woman took the lead. Still it was not a suggestion he was going to pass up. "You don't give a guy much reason to want to sip his drink slowly do you?"
She laughed, "no please take all the time you want, I can wait," there was a mischievous sparkle in her eye as she said this.
"Trouble is I don't think I want to," he replied picking up and downing his drink. He put the glass down. "Where did you have in mind?"
"Oh somewhere where there's subdued lighting, pleasant atmosphere, free drinks, soft music"
"And where would that be?"
"My place," she said smiling again, "you interested?"
Steve began to stand as she did, helping her with her wrap. "Just show me the way."
He followed as she led the way out of the side entrance of the restaurant. "My car's this way." She pointed down the alley and set off. Steve at her side.
The dizziness started after about 15 paces. Steve shook his head to clear it but it didn't help. A few more steps and his vision started to blur. He felt. . . strange, that was the only way to describe it. He stopped, "Stacey I. . . "
She turned and walked back to him, "What's wrong Steve, had a bit too much to drink." She took hold of his elbow and started to guide him forward.
"No I. . . ." He was finding it difficult to focus, difficult to concentrate. Even so he was fairly sure it wasn't the effects of alcohol he was feeling. "No something else, I don't. . . don't feel too good."
"Come on then we'll get you to my car." He allowed himself to be guided forward but was finding it increasingly difficult to walk in a straight line. "Come on just round this corner, that's it." They rounded the end of the next building into an even darker alley. At that moment a figure stepped out of the shadows. Stacey jumped in shock and let go of Steve, who slumped against the wall barely able to stand.
Steve battled again to focus on his surroundings. The wall was cold and wet against his cheek and shoulder. The cold gave him the shock he needed to temporarily clear his mind. He was in danger, there was something very, very wrong with what was happening here and he needed to get help. He reached into his pocket for his cell phone. One touch on the emergency preset and help would be on its way.
"What the. . . Why did you jump out on me like that? You scared the.." Stacey began but the stranger pushed her out of the way pulled a gun out of his pocket and struck Steve hard across the temple.
Steve had just managed to get the phone clear and was fumbling to press the right button when the blow struck. He fell to the floor and the phone fell from his nerveless fingers.
"Why did you do that? That wasn't in the plan. The poor guy's got enough stuff in him to drop an elephant. It wasn't necessary" Stacey said looking down at the lifeless figure.
Ryan turned a steely gaze on her. "Cell phone," he said kicking it away. "He could have had an emergency preset on it. Can't take any chances."
"We wouldn't have had to if you'd waited 'til I got him to the car as arranged." She replied her temper rising.
His voice remained as icy as ever. "I've been following you. It didn't look like you'd make it back to the car. How much stuff did you give him?"
"It wasn't my fault, he downed his drink, most guys just take a couple of sips and then I make my proposition and they leave the rest. He's taken the full dose."
"Between that and the knock I just gave him it's going to take a while for him to come round," he looked down at Steve's unconscious form, "and I need him to know what's going on for what I have planned." He looked up at Stacey anger showing in his voice, "you really know how to ruin a man's plans."
"Hey, I do my best. Find someone else to do your dirty work if you think you can. A sicko like you would.." She stopped abruptly as he grabbed her hair and pushed his gun into the soft flesh below her jawline.
"I f I were you I'd shut up unless you want to find out just how sick I am." The menace in his voice was clear.
"Look, I don't care what you do once I bring 'em just give me my stuff and I'll be out of here."
Ryan twisted the gun round once just enough to hurt and leave a mark. Then he pushed her away so that she fell onto the wet alley floor. He threw a small packet on top of her. "Get out of here. Wait for my next call."
Stacey did not need telling twice. She picked up the packet hauled herself up and ran off as quickly as she could leaving Ryan and Steve alone in the alley. "Come on then friend let's go and play." Ryan said as he hauled Steve onto his shoulders.
Part 2: Panic Stations
Mark was sitting in his office at 2 p.m. the next day when the phone rang. He'd got in late the previous evening and listened to Steve's message. Part of him was really happy that Steve was dating again but he really couldn't get used to the modern trend of getting intimate so quickly. In his day. . . but he supposed that summed it up. 'In his day,' this was a new generation and a whole new set of moral values. At least he had the confidence to know that Steve had a good character and would try in his own way to remain honourable. He picked up the phone and answered "Mark Sloan"
"Mark," it was the familiar voice of captain Newman, "I'm just ringing to find out if you know where Steve is? He didn't show up for work this morning and I can't get an answer at the beach house. His cell phone seems to be switched off too."
"No, Jack, I haven't seen him since yesterday. He left me a message last night to say not to expect him home"
"And you haven't heard from him?"
"No," there was increasing concern in Mark's voice.
"Well, I'm sure it's nothing to be concerned about." Newman continued, trying not to show his own concern. He knew enough about Steve's relationship with his father to realise that he had just pressed the panic button. He tried to pull back just in case there was a simple explanation for Steve's absence. "He hasn't got a lot on at the moment maybe he decided to take the day off."
"Without calling in? You know Steve would never do that. I just told you he left me a message last night to say he wouldn't be home so I wouldn't worry. There's no way, with everything that has happened recently that he would not show up where he was supposed to be without leaving some kind of message. What time should he have reported in this morning?"
"9.00 am. Nobody thought anything of it, they figured he was out working on something until he missed a briefing at 1.00"
"That does it," Mark sat forward the concern now showing on his face. "There is no way he would miss a meeting unless there was something wrong."
"That's why I decided to ring you. It would be out of character. I'll get some people to start checking around, but I don't think it's time for panic stations yet."
"No, but all the same I'll go back out to the house and see if he's been home. Let me know if you hear anything."
"Likewise, I'll call back with an update if we find anything," and with that he hung up.
Mark put the receiver down and stared at it for a couple of minutes. Being a parent was never easy but being the parent of a cop he was constantly living on a knife edge and just recently there had been too many occasions when it looked like some of the nightmares may actually come true. He shivered involuntarily. 'Come on Mark,' he told himself, 'don't let yourself get caught up by worry. You don't actually know that there is anything wrong yet.' But deep down he did know. He knew that Steve was in some sort of bad trouble.
Part 3 - Getting Home
Steve was on the street. He was walking but he wasn't sure where he was or how long he had been walking for. He had a pounding headache and the left side of his temple was incredibly sore. He was pretty sure it was cut but he didn't have the coordination to gently touch it and feel what was wrong. His one attempt had probably made things worse as he pressed too hard and sent a shooting pain through the whole left side of his skull. His clothes were disheveled and he made no attempt to straighten them. The only thing he could think about was getting home.
Home, where it was safe and warm, where he would be protected from.. from. He struggled with the memory. What did he need protection from? And then there it was like a lightning strike hitting him, the full horror of what he had just endured flooded his mind and overwhelmed him. The smell of the room, the mocking voice telling him what he was going to do, and then the weight pressing down on him pushing. . . No, He blocked it out, forced the memory away. He just needed to get home. There he would be safe.
He walked along in a daze not really sure exactly where he was or how he was going to get home. He was vaguely aware of crossing a road at some point. There were cars, horns, screeching of tyres, someone shouting obscenities, but he couldn't take it in, there was probably something he should apologise for. He didn't seem to have the ability to focus and work out what it was. So he just kept on walking. 'Just got to get home'
Eventually he reached the beach. He walked onto it, felt the sand beneath his toes and for the first time realised that he didn't have on any shoes or socks. He looked down at his feet and saw the blood where the stones and harsh pavements had cut into them. Strange that he hadn't felt any pain. He continued staring down for another moment or two but looking down was beginning to make him feel dizzy. He lost his balance momentarily and stumbled forward to regain it and then he continued walking. 'Nearly home.'
Steve approached the beach house. He was nearly there, he tried to speed up to get to his safe haven but he didn't seem to move any quicker. He walked round to the door to his apartment and tried to open it to get in. The door was locked. Keys, he needed keys to get in. He fumbled in his pockets. After what seemed like an age he realised that he had checked all of his pockets, some of them probably more than once. He didn't have the keys he must have lost them. So close and yet so far. He leaned against the wall and sank down to the floor in despair. He pulled his knees up against his chest, wrapped his arms round his legs and curled his head over as though making himself as small as possible would somehow help.
Part 4 - being found
Mark pulled into the drive of the beach house and got out of the car. He had signed himself out of the hospital and headed straight here after captain Newman's phone call. His only pause had been to let Jesse and Amanda know where he was going. He was supposed to have been meeting them for coffee at 2.30. He tried to play down his concern for Steve whilst talking to them, all the while attempting to suppress the feeling of dread that was building up inside him.
For some reason he didn't go to the main door he went straight for the door to Steve's apartment. "Steve," he called out and broke into a run as he saw the curled up figure of his son sitting by his door. "Steve are you alright?"
Steve looked up "Keys," he said "Haven't got any keys." His words were almost slurred
One look at his son's face told him that his question was superfluous. Steve was not alright. For a brief moment Mark thought it might be drink that had caused Steve's condition, but no. There was a haunted look in his eyes, a look that chilled Mark to the bone. There was also the large cut running across the left side of his temple, it looked like it had come from a blow from a blunt object. Mark had seen enough of them to know.
"Keys," repeated Steve, "no keys."
"Steve," Mark gripped him by the shoulders and knelt down so their faces were level. "Steve do you know who I am? Do you recognise me? Steve?"
Steve looked at his father and tried to focus through the haze. "Dad," he said at last. "Dad I need to get in. I need to go home."
Mark breathed a sigh of relief, at least Steve recognised him. "Can you tell me what happened? How do you feel." There was no response. "Steve," Mark prompted.
Steve was trying hard to answer his father's questions. He knew it was somehow important. If only he didn't keep drifting off. "Drugged I think, hit, don't remember."
"Can you stand son. I need to get you to the hospital." Mark said as he moved round and half lifted, half pulled Steve to his feet. Steve did his best to cooperate but ever since he had stopped walking his muscles had stiffened and the combination of drugs and injury left him weak and with little coordination.
Mark did not want to wait for an ambulance. Whatever drugs Steve had in his system could cause him to drop into a coma. Add to that he increased risk from a possible concussion and Mark wanted to get to the ER as soon as he could. He eased Steve into the car and headed off ignoring traffic signs and speed limits.
Mark tried to keep Steve talking and conscious but he also had to concentrate on his driving. By the time they had reached Community General Steve had drifted off at least twice. Mark half carried Steve again, out of the car. As he pushed through the doors into the ER he yelled out for a guerney. Jesse, recognising his friends voice ran out of exam room 1 to see what was happening, just in time to see Steve being lowered onto a bed by his father.
"Mark?" He said questioningly as he rushed over. "What happened?"
Mark looked at him, his voice strained "I don't know Jess, He's been drugged, hit, god knows what else. I found him like that at home."
"Ok, you go and sit down, I'll come and talk to you when I've examined him. Call Amanda. Get her to come and sit with you."
"I will," and with that he turned and walked away.
Jesse turned back to his patient and his friend. He listened as the nurse gave his vitals and then reeled off a list of tests and instructions for what he wanted. The nurses began to prep an IV and take blood samples. Jesse moved to check his pupil response. At that moment Steve came to and began to fight "Stop, no, get off. Leave me alone"
"Steve it's me Jess. Stop fighting us." He grabbed hold of his friends shoulders to get his attention. "Steve its Jess"
The familiar voice broke through the mist. Steve relaxed "Jess?" he said trying to focus but the best he could see was a blurry outline.
"It's ok Steve, you're at Community General your dad brought you here. Remember?"
Steve rested his head back on the guerney. "I remember," he said.
"Steve, Can you tell me what happened? Do you know what drugs they gave you?"
Steve tried to think, his thoughts were still confused but he suddenly knew one thing. He did not want Jesse Travis, his friend and his business partner to be here now, to see him like this to find, oh god no! If he ever wanted the anonymity of a strange doctor to treat him he wanted it now. "Jess," he said, when he could formulate the words.
"Yes Steve"
"Jess, I want another doctor"
"There are plenty of doctors around, Steve, but I can handle this on my own for now."
"No Jess, I don't want you to treat me. I want another doctor and I want you to. . . " he paused. His brain was too confused to put any but the most basic sentences together. He had to get his message across without the luxury of tact. "I want you to go away."
Jesse was taken aback, at first he didn't know what to say. "But Steve," he managed to get out.
"Please Jess" Steve looked pleadingly at his friend.
"Ok," Jesse was hurt and confused, "I'll get Dr Taylor. He's very good. I'll fill him in now."
"Thanks," Steve managed to get out before the effort was too much for him and he blacked out again.
Part 5 - The awful truth
Jess joined Mark and Amanda in the doctor's lounge. Mark was surprised to see him so quickly and worried by the look on his young friends face but Amanda beat him to the question.
"Jess, is everything alright? How's Steve"
Jess walked in and slumped into a chair before he replied "I'm not sure, I hadn't even finished the preliminary exam when he asked for another doctor. Said he didn't want me to treat him"
Mark sat forward in his chair, he looked like he had aged several years in the last few hours and the ordeal wasn't over yet. "Did he say why?"
"No just that he didn't want me there. I got Dr Taylor in. He's very good and he'll report to us as soon as he knows anything. From what I did see he's got a nasty concussion, so we'll be admitting him."
"Did he say anything else?" Amanda asked.
"No but, he's confused and pretty much out of it, he keeps drifting off"
Mark let out a heavy sigh and put his head in his hands. "I just wish there was something I could do"
Amanda reached out and put her hand on his shoulder. "Just be there for him like always."
Jess got up and got them all some coffee. At least it was something to do.
It was about 4pm when Dr Taylor finally put his head around the door of the lounge. He didn't come in, instead he motioned to Jesse to come out and talk to him. Mark and Amanda watched him go their concern growing. What was Jesse being told that Dr Taylor did not want to share with them .
They heard Jesse's exclamation through the closed door and stood as one heading for their friend. By the time they came out Dr Taylor had left leaving Jesse standing alone in the corridor.
"Jess, what is it?" Mark asked. "Is Steve?" He let the question trail off.
"No Mark, Steve's going to be fine, at least physically. Come on let's go back in we all need to sit down." Jesse ushered the others back to their seats.
"As we suspected that blow to the head has caused a fairly nasty concussion and it needed 7 stitches." Jesse began. "He has various other cuts and contusions on his body including some rope burns on his wrists. As for the drugs in his system, they were fortunately, only designed to incapacitate him, not kill him." He stopped, trying to figure out which piece of information to give next. "One of the drugs in his system was Rohypnol." Jesse stopped again. He closed his eyes and bent his head.
"Jess," prompted Amanda.
Jesse opened his eyes but continued to look at the floor "Look There's no easy way to say this as well as various cuts and contusions Steve has been," He found it difficult to continue but he eventually found the words. "He's also been sexually assaulted"
Mark exhaled the breath he been holding in. "No" was all he said before he too bowed his head.
Jesse finally looked up at Mark then at Amanda, tears had started to form in her eyes. "Dr Taylor said that Steve became extremely agitated after the exam. He's sedated him again. He's going to keep him under and review it tomorrow. He's been admitted to room 279"
For a while there was no movement in the room as each of them tried to absorb the enormity of what they had just been told. How would Steve cope and how could they, as the closest people to him in the world, help him deal with it.
Finally Mark stood. "I'm going to go and sit with him." He said simply and left the room.
Amanda looked across at Jesse, who met her gaze "He's hurting"
Jesse said "This is going to take a lot for both of them to come to terms with"
"For all of us," echoed Amanda.
Part 6 - The Immediate Aftermath
Steve was resting peacefully in bed. Mark sat and watched him as he had done for most of the evening. His wounds had been cleaned and dressed and he looked almost serene lying there. The sedation was doing it's job and allowing him to rest, but Mark knew that although it may help whilst his physical wounds healed, the emotional scars would still be there when he awoke. That, however, was tomorrow's problem.
Mark thought, not for the first time just how hard it was to have children. The desire to protect them from the world and wrap them in cotton wool. The fear that something would happen to them. The pain and the guilt when something did because you could not protect them. With all this why did people have children? Sometimes Mark thought the pain was too much to bear. But then he remembered the good times, the love, the joy he'd shared and he knew why. He also knew that given the chance, he'd do the same thing all over again.
With that thought he finally drifted off to sleep.
Jesse and Amanda had both stopped by before they went home but Mark had assured them that there was nothing that any of them could do until the following day and that he would stay with Steve in case there was any change.
Dr Taylor was in early the following day. He checked on Steve's condition and then turned to Mark. "I'm, er, sorry for not talking to you myself last night. I just thought you might find it easier getting the news from Jesse."
"No, that's fine, thankyou for your concern." He looked over Dr Taylor's shoulder to Steve. "How's he doing?"
"Good I think we'll let him wake up naturally, I've reduced the sedative and we'll see how he does."
"Ok, I'll stay with him."
"Mark, I'll be honest with you, given the way he reacted last night I think it may be necessary to refer him."
"A Psychiatrist?"
"Yes, I thought doctor Carter, she's very good and has a lot of experience in this area"
"Yes I've heard of her, she has a good reputation. I think you're right, to refer him. He's going to need more help than I can give him"
"Good, I'll do the referral straight away and check back in later." and with that he left.
Steve stirred several times during the morning but never really woke up properly. At about 2 pm there was a knock on the door. A man entered he took out his badge as he introduced himself. "Detective Nathan Turner sir"
"Mark Sloan, what can I do for you detective?" Mark stood and headed toward the door. "We can talk outside." Detective Turner backed out of the room as Mark followed onto the corridor.
"I'm here about your son sir Lt Steve Sloan, I believe he was the victim of an attack yesterday"
"He's still under sedation, detective none of us are sure what happened and I'm not sure that he'll be that much help to you when he does come round."
"Reluctant to talk about it you mean?"
"Or unable to."
"I know what you mean sir but I've been working on this case for three months now"
"This case?"
"Yes sir, I believe your son was the victim of a serial attacker. There have been at least four other cases in the last three months and that's just the ones that have made it to the emergency rooms. People are pretty reluctant to admit to being the victims of this type of crime. Your son is the most seriously hurt so far but I believe it's only a matter of time before this guy kills someone. I figured that since your son is a police lieutenant, this is my best chance so far of getting a lead."
"No," Mark replied
"Are you saying that you won't cooperate?"
"The only thing that is important to me right now is my son's recovery both physical and mental. He's in no state to be questioned at the moment. I'm sorry, but we won't be able to help you. If that situation changes I'll get in touch."
"But Dr Sloan other people's lives may be at stake"
Mark closed his eyes. "I know that, but my son has devoted his life to helping other people and right now he's the one who needs the help. I'm sorry detective"
"Well I'll give you my card just in case you change your mind or you find anything that may help me."
Mark took the offered card and put it into his pocket "I hope you get your man detective," he shook detective Turner's hand. Then turned and reentered Steve's room.
It took Mark a moment to realise that Steve was awake. His eyes were open and he was staring at the ceiling.
"Steve," he walked over to the bed. "How are you feeling son?"
Steve turned away from him. "Dad I," he began but could not finish.
Mark put out a hand to touch Steve on the shoulder but he flinched way from it. Mark pulled his hand back not sure what to do.
"Dad please I just need some time alone." Steve eventually managed to say.
"Fine but if you need me, just get one of the nurses to page me," and with that, feeling even more helpless than he did before, Mark left. Steve stared at the ceiling for a long time before he eventually fell back to sleep.
Mark tried to go and see some of his patients but his mind was not on his work. So eventually he went back to his office and stared at the paperwork he was supposed to be doing. Finally he gave up completely and went to see how Jesse and Amanda were doing. They met up in the doctor's lounge and Mark filled them in on the days events including the visit by detective Turner.
Amanda was the first to speak "I understand your reasons for not wanting Steve disturbed Mark, but I think I'll see if I can help him with any forensics. After all we do want the person who did this to Steve caught and stopped."
Mark took them both by surprise with his reply "That's not my priority right now. I just want to see Steve better."
Jesse let the surprise show in his expression. "But surely you must want the person capable of doing this off the streets, especially if he's likely to do it again.
"Of course I do," Mark exploded with uncharacteristic anger. "It will just have to be done without my help, or Steve's. For once in my life I'm going to concentrate on those who are important to me instead of strangers. You do realise we could lose him for ever on this one." Mark rose, "If you need me I'll be in my office.
Neither of them knew how to respond so they sat for a few minutes in silence. This was not like Mark.
Steve woke up sweating and breathing heavily, a strong sense of panic gripped him, the nightmare had been so vivid, so real, almost as if it was actually happening to him. And then he remembered, that was because it wasn't a nightmare, it was a flashback, it had really happened. The feeling of panic got worse; he was having difficulty drawing breath, his chest felt tight. He wasn't thinking very clearly again. The painful memories wouldn't stop this time, wouldn't go away. He couldn't block them out like before. Then he remembered the desire to get to safety, to get home. Yes that is what he needed to do. If he could get home he would be safe, the panic would go away.
Mark had spent the rest of the afternoon in his office moving the paper on his desk around without really accomplishing anything Both Jesse and Amanda had stopped by a couple of times to check that he was alright and to report on Steve. So far he hadn't wanted to see any of them. All three kept checking with the nurses' station on the second floor, waiting for the message that Steve needed them, but it never came. By 6.00 pm Mark had resolved to go back anyway but before he could do anything about it his pager went off. It was the nurses' station. He headed for the elevator to find Jesse and Amanda already in it. They had all been paged.
When they reached the nurses station they found quite a commotion. The sister in charge came over to them. "I'm sorry Dr Sloan but I'm afraid there's been a terrible mix up," she was clearly concerned and spoke too quickly. "Steve's gone missing from his room. It happened at the changeover, one of my nurses went off sick. Nobody checked his room between 4.30 and now. I'm really sorry I've started a search of the hospital"
Mark could feel the urge to panic building inside him but he suppressed it and tried to think logically. "Ok Jesse, Amanda. You help search here I'm going to drive home see if he's managed to head there. Call me if you find anything.
For the second time in 36 hours Steve Sloan had managed to find his way home on foot. This time however, he knew where to look for the spare key and let himself into his apartment.
Mark drove quickly the worry lines beginning to show deeply creasing his forehead. If Steve was not at home he'd try Bob's and if not there then Jesse's or Amanda's and if not there then where? In Steve's current frame of mind he could go anywhere. No, Mark refused to let himself think like that. Steve would be at home or still at the hospital. He'd probably just gone for a walk. Mark had to believe that.
Within seconds of arriving at the beach house he knew he had found his son. The door to Steve's apartment was wide open. Mark walked quickly in but there was no sign of Steve. He called out his name several times but got no reply. Then he heard it, running water.
He ran into the bathroom and the sight that greeted him made his heart sink to a depth of despair that he hadn't felt since his wife's illness. Steve was standing in the shower, still fully clothed, scrubbing away at his upper body.
Mark walked over to him "Steve," he said gently.
Steve turned to look at his father. "I can't get clean dad. No matter how hard I rub I can't get clean."
"Steve," he said again gently and reached over to turn off the shower. The water was freezing cold. "Come on lets get you out of there"
"You don't understand," Steve said the desperation showing in his voice. "No matter how hard I rub," he repeated "I just can't get clean." and then he began to sob. He leaned back against the wall, finally realising that there was no water anymore, and as his strength deserted him slid down to the floor. "I just can't get clean," he muttered in between sobs.
Mark stood for a few moments transfixed, watching his son, unable to decide what to do to help. He moved back into the bedroom. He did not want to leave Steve alone but he needed Jesse here. He rang Jesse's cell phone. "Jesse?" Mark said as soon as it was answered. "He's here at the beach house can you get here as soon as possible?" and without waiting for a reply he hung up and moved quickly back into the bathroom. Nothing had changed. Steve was still slumped in the corner of the shower his shoulders moving up and down slightly as the sobs coursed through his upper body. Mark sat heavily on the wash basin. "That's right son,' he thought 'you cry it out, get it out of your system.' And so he sat and waited.
After about 15 minutes, the sobbing had died down, Steve was quiet in the corner his head on his knees. It was then that Mark noticed that his son was shivering. Mark stood quickly, of course, what had he been thinking, leaving Steve sitting there in cold damp clothing. He moved across to his son and spoke gently "Come on Steve it's time to get out of here." As he spoke he gently hooked his arm under Steve's and guided him up. Steve did not resist. As soon as he had stepped out of the shower. Mark draped a large towel around his shoulders, then guided him into the bedroom. He grabbed a blanket and wrapped that around Steve too.
Steve made no move to do anything under his own initiative, merely allowing himself to be guided around by his father.
Mark sat Steve down on the bed. He studied the wound on Steve's temple. The water had opened it up again and it had started to bleed, a thin line of blood ran down his cheek. It would need cleaning and dressing again. Mark sat down next to his son so that he could examine the wound more closely. He did not get the chance, Steve was exhausted, physically and mentally. He rested his head on his fathers shoulder, Mark instinctively put his arm round him.
"I'm home aren't I dad?" Steve said so softly that Mark almost missed it.
"Yes son you're home," Mark replied gently pulling him in closer.
"Good then I'm safe," he said and closed his eyes.
Mark could feel the tears running down his face as he held his son, gently rocking him, as he had done when he was a child.
That was how Jesse found them, Steve asleep in Mark's arms.
Between them Mark and Jesse managed to get Steve out of his wet clothes and into bed, disturbing him as little as possible. Jesse redressed his wounds and gave him another mild sedative to ensure a good nights rest. When Steve had been looked after Jesse turned his attention to Mark.
"How are you doing?" Jesse asked, looking with concern at Mark's pale drawn face.
"Better than him," he said indicating Steve's sleeping form.
"Should we try to get him back to the hospital?"
"No, I don't think that's a good idea. At the moment he sees this place as a safe haven. We'll keep him here tonight and I'll try and persuade him to go back in the morning. Can you stay to help me look after him?"
"Mark? Do you need to ask? Of course I'll stay. But you need to get your rest. I'll stay down here and watch Steve."
Mark would normally have argued but the events of the past couple of days had drained him completely. "If you're sure? Thanks Jess."
"Do you need something to help you sleep?"
"No, I'll be fine. Look after him," and with that Mark went upstairs.
Jess looked round put two chairs together and set about making himself comfortable. He quickly rang Amanda to fill her in on Steve's condition and then settled down for the night.
Part 7 - The Decision
Jesse slept fitfully. He woke up every hour or so and looked across at Steve to check he was alright. Only once did he have to get up to check more closely as Steve seemed to be having some sort of nightmare, but it passed and Steve settled down again so Jesse went back to sleep. He woke up with a start in the morning and looked across to the bed expecting to see Steve sleeping peacefully, but the bed was empty.
Jesse jumped up panicking a little and cursing himself for sleeping so soundly. "Steve?" He shouted.
"In here Jess." The reply came from the bathroom.
Jesse entered the bathroom unprepared for what he saw. Steve was standing at the bathroom mirror, shaving, looking like he didn't have a care in the world.
"Hi Jess," he said sounding cheerful, "sorry, did I wake you? I was trying to be as quiet as I could. I don't reckon you got much sleep."
"Steve," Jesse asked incredulously, "Are you ok?"
"Yes I'm fine. Honestly, I'm feeling much better." He turned and looked at Jesse and then looked back at the mirror, he was continuing to shave as he spoke.
"But last night," Jess started.
Steve interrupted him, "I know," he put his razor down and turned to face Jesse. "I lost it a bit. Everything just got on top of me, Jess. I don't think I could explain it if I tried and I'm not sure I want to. This whole thing is going to be difficult to come to terms with. But when I woke up today, everything just seemed better. I've got to try to get on with life." All the time he had been saying this he had held Jesse's gaze. The sincerity of what he was saying created an intense atmosphere. Steve tried to lighten the mood by throwing a towel at Jesse. "Now get out of here so I can finish getting dressed."
"If you're sure you're going to be ok?"
"Yes, go and see how my dad's doing and tell him I'll be up for breakfast." Jesse paused looking at Steve for any signs of the trauma of the last couple of days as Steve turned back to the mirror. "Will you get out of here?"
"Alright," Jesse said at last. He could see no reason to stay any longer. "I'm going."
And with that he headed upstairs to find Mark.
Mark was in the kitchen. He hadn't been up long himself. He was busy getting some coffee and took down another cup to pour Jesse some.
"Better make that three cups," Jesse said and told Mark about his conversation with Steve.
"He must be putting a brave face on it. You saw him last night." Mark said when Jesse had finished.
"I agree, but I don't think he's claiming a miracle cure. From what he said he knows he's got a long way to go, but it's a good first step"
"As long as he doesn't try to pretend it didn't happen."
"I wish I could." Steve was standing at the door.
Mark turned to look at his son. "Steve I'm sorry."
"It's ok dad. I'd be surprised if you weren't talking about me. Now how about some breakfast. Those IV drips may give you everything you need from a nutrition point of view, but my stomach still knows I haven't eaten for two days."
"Ok sit down son I'll get breakfast." Mark watched his son as he went to sit. He didn't know which behaviour he found most worrying what he had seen last night or this new, 'nothing is wrong' attitude that he saw now. He looked across at Jesse who looked back with "see what I mean' written all over his face.
After breakfast Mark broached the subject of going back to the hospital.
"Dad," Steve began, "I know you're not going to want to agree with this, so hear me out before you say anything so I can explain my reasoning. Please. I know you want me to go back to the hospital and I will. Sign me up for whatever counseling you think I need. But, for now, for today at least, I want to be here, at home. It's where I feel safe and I think I kind of need that security to help me get through this." Steve looked at his father, knowing he had not delivered his most controversial request. Mark remained quiet, as he had been asked, waiting for his son to finish. "And I want to be alone."
That did it Mark could not keep quiet at that. "Steve, I'm not sure that's wise at the moment. I can see your reasons for wanting to stay here, but either me or Jesse can switch shifts at the hospital and stay out here with you. We don't have to sit in each other's pockets, just be here.'
"Look dad, I'm grateful, but I think you're being over protective. I'll be fine here on my own and I'll ring you every hour so you'll know I'm ok, if you want, but please trust me. I need to be alone and I need to know that someone isn't going to keep popping their head round the door every five minutes checking up on me. I have to have time to think. You have to let me deal with this in my own way."
Mark thought about what his son was saying. Was he being over protective? Maybe, but then he thought back to last night and his son standing in the shower, the haunted look on his face. What if that happened again?
Steve studied his father's face, over the years he had learned to read what his father's reaction was going to be before he actually said anything. On this occasion it looked like his father was going to say yes but then his face clouded over and he knew it would be no. He jumped in again before his father could say anything. "If you're worried about something like last night. I will call you every hour. If I don't call, you can come back."
Mark was about to say no. He studied his son's face, he still looked pale and he could still see the pain etched in lines across his forehead, but there was something of the old sparkle back in his eyes and he seemed logical and rational. "Ok," Mark said guardedly "but you must promise to call if you need anything at all."
Steve sat back the relief showing on his face. "I will."
Jesse spoke for the first time; he figured the conversation before that, was between Steve and Mark. "Or you can call me, or Amanda"
Steve smiled, "I know that"
Jesse turned more professional. "I'll leave you some antibiotics to take and I'd like to look at the other cuts before we go, put fresh dressings on."
"Ok doc, Come on then."
Jesse and Mark headed off for Community General at around 8.00 am. Steve watched them go and turned round and walked into the house. He was relieved that he'd been able to talk them into going, and now, he could finally admit to himself the true reason why. He had a lot to do, but first he set his watch alarm to beep every hour to remind him to phone the hospital. He didn't want his dad coming home early.
Then he went into his room and started sorting things. There were lots of decisions to be made and that kept his mind occupied and busy for much of the morning. After the third phone call at 11am. He sat and thought for the first time about what he was doing.
He wasn't entirely sure at what time he'd made the decision, only that he'd been lying in bed about to go into another set of panic when the idea had occurred to him as the only solution. Having thought about it, and decided it was his only option, a new sense of calm had descended over him. He had lain awake for some time more, planning everything out in detail. When he was sure he'd accounted for everything, he got up to get ready for the day. That was when Jesse found him. The calm and inner peace that making the decision had given him had allowed him to put on the front for his father and Jesse. The only way to persuade them to go, and leave him alone. The only way he could carry out his plan.
Steve had decided that he would never be able to come to terms with what had happened to him and that ultimately he would destroy himself and those closest to him: dad, Jesse and Amanda, if he were to try. The decision he had come to was that it would be best for everyone if he wasn't around. He had decided to kill himself.
Part 8 - Back from the brink
Steve had spent the morning arranging his things, setting his affairs in order, they called it. He had dealt with many suicides as a part of his job and it always seemed slightly easier on the relatives, if they didn't have the added pain of having to deal with the victim's effects. He wanted this to be as painless as possible for everyone.
Each phone call he had to make became a little harder, but he kept the tone light and listened to his father's advice, promising each time to follow it. At 1.00pm He called Jesse and Amanda as well. He claimed he was doing it so that they wouldn't worry but really he just wanted to hear their voices for one last time. Neither of them realised the significance of the goodbyes at the end of the conversation but for Steve it was the most difficult word he'd ever had to say.
By the two o'clock call nearly everything was ready. He rang his dad for the last time and almost blew it at the end of the conversation when he couldn't say the word goodbye without choking up. He covered it with a cough and was fairly sure he'd got away with it. He sat looking at the bottles of pills on the table in front of him. He was out on the deck where he could see the ocean. It was now or never.
Mark had managed to keep himself busy for most of the day. He had even managed to make some useful progress on his paperwork. It had taken a great deal of self-control for him not to go home for lunch just to check on how Steve was doing. But Steve had kept his promise and had rung every hour on the hour and he sounded fine, so Mark had to keep his word too and stay in work.
It was only as he hung the phone up from the two o'clock call that he'd started to have an inkling of doubt. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but his instincts told him that there was something wrong. He didn't have much time to consider it when there was a knock on his door. "Come in."
Dr Carter walked in, "Hi Dr Sloan I wondered if I could have a word."
Mark smiled as he stood and gestured for her to come in. "Dr Carter isn't it?"
She nodded, Mark had seen her around the hospital but they had never actually met. "Of course please have a seat."
"I'll get straight to the point as I've just sneaked down between patients. I wanted to ask you about Steve - he's been referred to me after being attacked. I understand he left the hospital last night. I was wondering if you could fill me in with some background. Is he coming back?"
"Yes, I think so, but I am very concerned about him," and with that opening, Mark poured out everything that had happened in the last two days, right up to the most recent phone call. He wasn't sure if it was going to help Steve, but telling someone his own feelings about it all, was certainly therapy for him. At the end of his narrative Dr Carter looked worryingly concerned.
"You say he was completely calm this morning, almost as if nothing had happened to him?"
"Yes," Mark heard in the tone of Dr Carter's question, a concern that he didn't like.
"And he was very insistent that you leave him alone all day?"
"Yes."
"Mark you're a doctor. Do you keep a medical bag at home?"
"Yes," he did not like where this line of questioning was going. "My god you don't think he.." He couldn't finish the question.
"What time was the last phone call?"
"2.o'clock, he looked at his watch about 20 minutes ago"
"Mark I think you should go home- now. If I'm wrong Steve will be a little upset, but if I'm right," she let the sentence hang unfinished.
Mark was now sufficiently concerned not to need telling twice. "Thankyou Dr Carter, I'll follow your advice." He said and left the room as quickly as he could.
For the entire drive to the beach house Mark hoped that Dr Carter was wrong, but he could now put the pieces together for himself and, with a growing fear inside him, he knew that she was right. He cursed himself for not seeing it sooner. Now it could be too late.
Mark almost ran into the beach house for the third time in as many days, he was here looking for his son with a real concern for his safety. He quickly checked through every room, shouting out Steve's name as he moved through the house. He finally came out onto the deck. Steve was sitting there staring out at the ocean. Mark took in the whole scene in an instant there were several bottles on the table and a pen and paper next to where Steve was sitting.
"Steve," he said urgently, "Have you taken anything."
Steve carried on staring out at the ocean. "No, you can check the bottles, they're all still full."
Mark felt the relief wash over him. He sat down and allowed his breathing to settle before he carried on with the conversation.
"How did you know?" Steve asked
"Dr Carter, she's the psychiatrist you've been referred to, I told her about your behavior and reactions. She sent me out here. I'm just relieved I wasn't too late."
"You are."
Mark felt that fear again "But you said you haven't.."
"No," Steve interrupted, "but if I'd kept to my plan it would all have been over by now."
"What stopped you?"
"The note."
"The note?"
"I tried to write a note to you, to explain, so you would understand," he paused, "and I couldn't do it. I knew you would never understand, that you would always blame yourself for leaving me here. So I couldn't do it."
Mark looked at the collection of pill bottles on the table. "A pretty lethal combination. There's no way we would have been able to save you"
"That was the idea. This wasn't a cry for help." Steve had known exactly what to use to make sure it was final. Years in homicide with a father as a doctor had taught him that. "I had also arranged for one of the guys from the station to come over and talk to me at 3pm so you wouldn't be the one to find the body"
"Very considerate." Mark said unable to keep the sarcastic tone out of his voice.
For the first time Steve took his eyes off the ocean and turned and looked at his father. "I was trying to make it easier on you."
"You couldn't"
Steve looked away again "I know"
The whole conversation was carried out with a detached calm that made it almost surreal. The enormity of what they were discussing would have overwhelmed them both at any other level.
"What now," Steve asked.
"Will you go back to the hospital?"
"Psych ward?"
"Yes"
"In patient?"
"Yes"
Steve considered it. "How long?"
"As long as it takes."
"Yes," Steve said with a heavy sigh. "You'd best set it up. I'll go and put some things together" and with that he got up and went inside to pack.
Mark was left sitting on the deck, now it was his turn to cry. Part with relief, part fear at what had so nearly happened.
Steve and Mark pulled up outside the hospital at around 4pm. They went inside together and Steve walked into the psych ward to admit himself. His road to recovery had finally begun.
Summary: Steve is the victim of a serial sexual attacker. He, his father and his friends have a difficult time coming to terms with what has happened to him and he ends up on the psych ward at Community General hospital, a suicide risk. He is befriended by one of the other patients, a young woman who starts him on the road to recovery. Meanwhile, one of the attackers victims dies increasing the stakes as the others try to capture him and Steve's life may be in danger again as the attacker has some connection with Community General
This is a difficult subject which I have tried to treat sensitively. It is not about the attack it is about people's reactions to it. So there is little or no mention of what actually happens.
The content of the attacks is not detailed here, but the idea is, I would therefore rate this story as at least a 15
Part 1-The Attack
Steve felt like he was back in high school. He'd just met a beautiful woman and the evening had been extremely pleasant up to now. She was great company and to say the two of them had hit it off would be a major understatement. Things were looking good for making breakfast plans together, and now here he was in the corridor outside the restrooms phoning his dad to say not to expect him home. At his age!
Still with all that had happened recently he did not want his father to worry. So here he was sneaking out to the men's room to make the call. He got the answer phone, his dad must be working late. "Hi dad, just me. I got a date tonight and things seem to be working out, so I'm just calling to say..um.. Don't wait up for me and don't worry. See you tomorrow." He hung up, smoothed back his hair and walked back into the restaurant.
Stacey was sitting at the table playing with her tennis bracelet waiting for him. She looked a little nervous, as though she was worried he might not come back. Her face broke into a huge smile as she spotted him returning and this made her look even more stunning. She was tall, brunette, and had what Steve considered to be a perfect figure. Not for the first time since he had met her just a few short hours ago, Steve wondered what he had done to deserve such luck.
"I got us another round of drinks," she said as Steve sat down.
"Thanks," he said picking his up and taking a mouthful.
"And then I thought we could move on to somewhere a little more," she paused, "intimate"
Steve didn't know whether to be flattered by her desire to take things further or intimidated by her forwardness. He tried to be a 'new man' but was always a little taken aback when the woman took the lead. Still it was not a suggestion he was going to pass up. "You don't give a guy much reason to want to sip his drink slowly do you?"
She laughed, "no please take all the time you want, I can wait," there was a mischievous sparkle in her eye as she said this.
"Trouble is I don't think I want to," he replied picking up and downing his drink. He put the glass down. "Where did you have in mind?"
"Oh somewhere where there's subdued lighting, pleasant atmosphere, free drinks, soft music"
"And where would that be?"
"My place," she said smiling again, "you interested?"
Steve began to stand as she did, helping her with her wrap. "Just show me the way."
He followed as she led the way out of the side entrance of the restaurant. "My car's this way." She pointed down the alley and set off. Steve at her side.
The dizziness started after about 15 paces. Steve shook his head to clear it but it didn't help. A few more steps and his vision started to blur. He felt. . . strange, that was the only way to describe it. He stopped, "Stacey I. . . "
She turned and walked back to him, "What's wrong Steve, had a bit too much to drink." She took hold of his elbow and started to guide him forward.
"No I. . . ." He was finding it difficult to focus, difficult to concentrate. Even so he was fairly sure it wasn't the effects of alcohol he was feeling. "No something else, I don't. . . don't feel too good."
"Come on then we'll get you to my car." He allowed himself to be guided forward but was finding it increasingly difficult to walk in a straight line. "Come on just round this corner, that's it." They rounded the end of the next building into an even darker alley. At that moment a figure stepped out of the shadows. Stacey jumped in shock and let go of Steve, who slumped against the wall barely able to stand.
Steve battled again to focus on his surroundings. The wall was cold and wet against his cheek and shoulder. The cold gave him the shock he needed to temporarily clear his mind. He was in danger, there was something very, very wrong with what was happening here and he needed to get help. He reached into his pocket for his cell phone. One touch on the emergency preset and help would be on its way.
"What the. . . Why did you jump out on me like that? You scared the.." Stacey began but the stranger pushed her out of the way pulled a gun out of his pocket and struck Steve hard across the temple.
Steve had just managed to get the phone clear and was fumbling to press the right button when the blow struck. He fell to the floor and the phone fell from his nerveless fingers.
"Why did you do that? That wasn't in the plan. The poor guy's got enough stuff in him to drop an elephant. It wasn't necessary" Stacey said looking down at the lifeless figure.
Ryan turned a steely gaze on her. "Cell phone," he said kicking it away. "He could have had an emergency preset on it. Can't take any chances."
"We wouldn't have had to if you'd waited 'til I got him to the car as arranged." She replied her temper rising.
His voice remained as icy as ever. "I've been following you. It didn't look like you'd make it back to the car. How much stuff did you give him?"
"It wasn't my fault, he downed his drink, most guys just take a couple of sips and then I make my proposition and they leave the rest. He's taken the full dose."
"Between that and the knock I just gave him it's going to take a while for him to come round," he looked down at Steve's unconscious form, "and I need him to know what's going on for what I have planned." He looked up at Stacey anger showing in his voice, "you really know how to ruin a man's plans."
"Hey, I do my best. Find someone else to do your dirty work if you think you can. A sicko like you would.." She stopped abruptly as he grabbed her hair and pushed his gun into the soft flesh below her jawline.
"I f I were you I'd shut up unless you want to find out just how sick I am." The menace in his voice was clear.
"Look, I don't care what you do once I bring 'em just give me my stuff and I'll be out of here."
Ryan twisted the gun round once just enough to hurt and leave a mark. Then he pushed her away so that she fell onto the wet alley floor. He threw a small packet on top of her. "Get out of here. Wait for my next call."
Stacey did not need telling twice. She picked up the packet hauled herself up and ran off as quickly as she could leaving Ryan and Steve alone in the alley. "Come on then friend let's go and play." Ryan said as he hauled Steve onto his shoulders.
Part 2: Panic Stations
Mark was sitting in his office at 2 p.m. the next day when the phone rang. He'd got in late the previous evening and listened to Steve's message. Part of him was really happy that Steve was dating again but he really couldn't get used to the modern trend of getting intimate so quickly. In his day. . . but he supposed that summed it up. 'In his day,' this was a new generation and a whole new set of moral values. At least he had the confidence to know that Steve had a good character and would try in his own way to remain honourable. He picked up the phone and answered "Mark Sloan"
"Mark," it was the familiar voice of captain Newman, "I'm just ringing to find out if you know where Steve is? He didn't show up for work this morning and I can't get an answer at the beach house. His cell phone seems to be switched off too."
"No, Jack, I haven't seen him since yesterday. He left me a message last night to say not to expect him home"
"And you haven't heard from him?"
"No," there was increasing concern in Mark's voice.
"Well, I'm sure it's nothing to be concerned about." Newman continued, trying not to show his own concern. He knew enough about Steve's relationship with his father to realise that he had just pressed the panic button. He tried to pull back just in case there was a simple explanation for Steve's absence. "He hasn't got a lot on at the moment maybe he decided to take the day off."
"Without calling in? You know Steve would never do that. I just told you he left me a message last night to say he wouldn't be home so I wouldn't worry. There's no way, with everything that has happened recently that he would not show up where he was supposed to be without leaving some kind of message. What time should he have reported in this morning?"
"9.00 am. Nobody thought anything of it, they figured he was out working on something until he missed a briefing at 1.00"
"That does it," Mark sat forward the concern now showing on his face. "There is no way he would miss a meeting unless there was something wrong."
"That's why I decided to ring you. It would be out of character. I'll get some people to start checking around, but I don't think it's time for panic stations yet."
"No, but all the same I'll go back out to the house and see if he's been home. Let me know if you hear anything."
"Likewise, I'll call back with an update if we find anything," and with that he hung up.
Mark put the receiver down and stared at it for a couple of minutes. Being a parent was never easy but being the parent of a cop he was constantly living on a knife edge and just recently there had been too many occasions when it looked like some of the nightmares may actually come true. He shivered involuntarily. 'Come on Mark,' he told himself, 'don't let yourself get caught up by worry. You don't actually know that there is anything wrong yet.' But deep down he did know. He knew that Steve was in some sort of bad trouble.
Part 3 - Getting Home
Steve was on the street. He was walking but he wasn't sure where he was or how long he had been walking for. He had a pounding headache and the left side of his temple was incredibly sore. He was pretty sure it was cut but he didn't have the coordination to gently touch it and feel what was wrong. His one attempt had probably made things worse as he pressed too hard and sent a shooting pain through the whole left side of his skull. His clothes were disheveled and he made no attempt to straighten them. The only thing he could think about was getting home.
Home, where it was safe and warm, where he would be protected from.. from. He struggled with the memory. What did he need protection from? And then there it was like a lightning strike hitting him, the full horror of what he had just endured flooded his mind and overwhelmed him. The smell of the room, the mocking voice telling him what he was going to do, and then the weight pressing down on him pushing. . . No, He blocked it out, forced the memory away. He just needed to get home. There he would be safe.
He walked along in a daze not really sure exactly where he was or how he was going to get home. He was vaguely aware of crossing a road at some point. There were cars, horns, screeching of tyres, someone shouting obscenities, but he couldn't take it in, there was probably something he should apologise for. He didn't seem to have the ability to focus and work out what it was. So he just kept on walking. 'Just got to get home'
Eventually he reached the beach. He walked onto it, felt the sand beneath his toes and for the first time realised that he didn't have on any shoes or socks. He looked down at his feet and saw the blood where the stones and harsh pavements had cut into them. Strange that he hadn't felt any pain. He continued staring down for another moment or two but looking down was beginning to make him feel dizzy. He lost his balance momentarily and stumbled forward to regain it and then he continued walking. 'Nearly home.'
Steve approached the beach house. He was nearly there, he tried to speed up to get to his safe haven but he didn't seem to move any quicker. He walked round to the door to his apartment and tried to open it to get in. The door was locked. Keys, he needed keys to get in. He fumbled in his pockets. After what seemed like an age he realised that he had checked all of his pockets, some of them probably more than once. He didn't have the keys he must have lost them. So close and yet so far. He leaned against the wall and sank down to the floor in despair. He pulled his knees up against his chest, wrapped his arms round his legs and curled his head over as though making himself as small as possible would somehow help.
Part 4 - being found
Mark pulled into the drive of the beach house and got out of the car. He had signed himself out of the hospital and headed straight here after captain Newman's phone call. His only pause had been to let Jesse and Amanda know where he was going. He was supposed to have been meeting them for coffee at 2.30. He tried to play down his concern for Steve whilst talking to them, all the while attempting to suppress the feeling of dread that was building up inside him.
For some reason he didn't go to the main door he went straight for the door to Steve's apartment. "Steve," he called out and broke into a run as he saw the curled up figure of his son sitting by his door. "Steve are you alright?"
Steve looked up "Keys," he said "Haven't got any keys." His words were almost slurred
One look at his son's face told him that his question was superfluous. Steve was not alright. For a brief moment Mark thought it might be drink that had caused Steve's condition, but no. There was a haunted look in his eyes, a look that chilled Mark to the bone. There was also the large cut running across the left side of his temple, it looked like it had come from a blow from a blunt object. Mark had seen enough of them to know.
"Keys," repeated Steve, "no keys."
"Steve," Mark gripped him by the shoulders and knelt down so their faces were level. "Steve do you know who I am? Do you recognise me? Steve?"
Steve looked at his father and tried to focus through the haze. "Dad," he said at last. "Dad I need to get in. I need to go home."
Mark breathed a sigh of relief, at least Steve recognised him. "Can you tell me what happened? How do you feel." There was no response. "Steve," Mark prompted.
Steve was trying hard to answer his father's questions. He knew it was somehow important. If only he didn't keep drifting off. "Drugged I think, hit, don't remember."
"Can you stand son. I need to get you to the hospital." Mark said as he moved round and half lifted, half pulled Steve to his feet. Steve did his best to cooperate but ever since he had stopped walking his muscles had stiffened and the combination of drugs and injury left him weak and with little coordination.
Mark did not want to wait for an ambulance. Whatever drugs Steve had in his system could cause him to drop into a coma. Add to that he increased risk from a possible concussion and Mark wanted to get to the ER as soon as he could. He eased Steve into the car and headed off ignoring traffic signs and speed limits.
Mark tried to keep Steve talking and conscious but he also had to concentrate on his driving. By the time they had reached Community General Steve had drifted off at least twice. Mark half carried Steve again, out of the car. As he pushed through the doors into the ER he yelled out for a guerney. Jesse, recognising his friends voice ran out of exam room 1 to see what was happening, just in time to see Steve being lowered onto a bed by his father.
"Mark?" He said questioningly as he rushed over. "What happened?"
Mark looked at him, his voice strained "I don't know Jess, He's been drugged, hit, god knows what else. I found him like that at home."
"Ok, you go and sit down, I'll come and talk to you when I've examined him. Call Amanda. Get her to come and sit with you."
"I will," and with that he turned and walked away.
Jesse turned back to his patient and his friend. He listened as the nurse gave his vitals and then reeled off a list of tests and instructions for what he wanted. The nurses began to prep an IV and take blood samples. Jesse moved to check his pupil response. At that moment Steve came to and began to fight "Stop, no, get off. Leave me alone"
"Steve it's me Jess. Stop fighting us." He grabbed hold of his friends shoulders to get his attention. "Steve its Jess"
The familiar voice broke through the mist. Steve relaxed "Jess?" he said trying to focus but the best he could see was a blurry outline.
"It's ok Steve, you're at Community General your dad brought you here. Remember?"
Steve rested his head back on the guerney. "I remember," he said.
"Steve, Can you tell me what happened? Do you know what drugs they gave you?"
Steve tried to think, his thoughts were still confused but he suddenly knew one thing. He did not want Jesse Travis, his friend and his business partner to be here now, to see him like this to find, oh god no! If he ever wanted the anonymity of a strange doctor to treat him he wanted it now. "Jess," he said, when he could formulate the words.
"Yes Steve"
"Jess, I want another doctor"
"There are plenty of doctors around, Steve, but I can handle this on my own for now."
"No Jess, I don't want you to treat me. I want another doctor and I want you to. . . " he paused. His brain was too confused to put any but the most basic sentences together. He had to get his message across without the luxury of tact. "I want you to go away."
Jesse was taken aback, at first he didn't know what to say. "But Steve," he managed to get out.
"Please Jess" Steve looked pleadingly at his friend.
"Ok," Jesse was hurt and confused, "I'll get Dr Taylor. He's very good. I'll fill him in now."
"Thanks," Steve managed to get out before the effort was too much for him and he blacked out again.
Part 5 - The awful truth
Jess joined Mark and Amanda in the doctor's lounge. Mark was surprised to see him so quickly and worried by the look on his young friends face but Amanda beat him to the question.
"Jess, is everything alright? How's Steve"
Jess walked in and slumped into a chair before he replied "I'm not sure, I hadn't even finished the preliminary exam when he asked for another doctor. Said he didn't want me to treat him"
Mark sat forward in his chair, he looked like he had aged several years in the last few hours and the ordeal wasn't over yet. "Did he say why?"
"No just that he didn't want me there. I got Dr Taylor in. He's very good and he'll report to us as soon as he knows anything. From what I did see he's got a nasty concussion, so we'll be admitting him."
"Did he say anything else?" Amanda asked.
"No but, he's confused and pretty much out of it, he keeps drifting off"
Mark let out a heavy sigh and put his head in his hands. "I just wish there was something I could do"
Amanda reached out and put her hand on his shoulder. "Just be there for him like always."
Jess got up and got them all some coffee. At least it was something to do.
It was about 4pm when Dr Taylor finally put his head around the door of the lounge. He didn't come in, instead he motioned to Jesse to come out and talk to him. Mark and Amanda watched him go their concern growing. What was Jesse being told that Dr Taylor did not want to share with them .
They heard Jesse's exclamation through the closed door and stood as one heading for their friend. By the time they came out Dr Taylor had left leaving Jesse standing alone in the corridor.
"Jess, what is it?" Mark asked. "Is Steve?" He let the question trail off.
"No Mark, Steve's going to be fine, at least physically. Come on let's go back in we all need to sit down." Jesse ushered the others back to their seats.
"As we suspected that blow to the head has caused a fairly nasty concussion and it needed 7 stitches." Jesse began. "He has various other cuts and contusions on his body including some rope burns on his wrists. As for the drugs in his system, they were fortunately, only designed to incapacitate him, not kill him." He stopped, trying to figure out which piece of information to give next. "One of the drugs in his system was Rohypnol." Jesse stopped again. He closed his eyes and bent his head.
"Jess," prompted Amanda.
Jesse opened his eyes but continued to look at the floor "Look There's no easy way to say this as well as various cuts and contusions Steve has been," He found it difficult to continue but he eventually found the words. "He's also been sexually assaulted"
Mark exhaled the breath he been holding in. "No" was all he said before he too bowed his head.
Jesse finally looked up at Mark then at Amanda, tears had started to form in her eyes. "Dr Taylor said that Steve became extremely agitated after the exam. He's sedated him again. He's going to keep him under and review it tomorrow. He's been admitted to room 279"
For a while there was no movement in the room as each of them tried to absorb the enormity of what they had just been told. How would Steve cope and how could they, as the closest people to him in the world, help him deal with it.
Finally Mark stood. "I'm going to go and sit with him." He said simply and left the room.
Amanda looked across at Jesse, who met her gaze "He's hurting"
Jesse said "This is going to take a lot for both of them to come to terms with"
"For all of us," echoed Amanda.
Part 6 - The Immediate Aftermath
Steve was resting peacefully in bed. Mark sat and watched him as he had done for most of the evening. His wounds had been cleaned and dressed and he looked almost serene lying there. The sedation was doing it's job and allowing him to rest, but Mark knew that although it may help whilst his physical wounds healed, the emotional scars would still be there when he awoke. That, however, was tomorrow's problem.
Mark thought, not for the first time just how hard it was to have children. The desire to protect them from the world and wrap them in cotton wool. The fear that something would happen to them. The pain and the guilt when something did because you could not protect them. With all this why did people have children? Sometimes Mark thought the pain was too much to bear. But then he remembered the good times, the love, the joy he'd shared and he knew why. He also knew that given the chance, he'd do the same thing all over again.
With that thought he finally drifted off to sleep.
Jesse and Amanda had both stopped by before they went home but Mark had assured them that there was nothing that any of them could do until the following day and that he would stay with Steve in case there was any change.
Dr Taylor was in early the following day. He checked on Steve's condition and then turned to Mark. "I'm, er, sorry for not talking to you myself last night. I just thought you might find it easier getting the news from Jesse."
"No, that's fine, thankyou for your concern." He looked over Dr Taylor's shoulder to Steve. "How's he doing?"
"Good I think we'll let him wake up naturally, I've reduced the sedative and we'll see how he does."
"Ok, I'll stay with him."
"Mark, I'll be honest with you, given the way he reacted last night I think it may be necessary to refer him."
"A Psychiatrist?"
"Yes, I thought doctor Carter, she's very good and has a lot of experience in this area"
"Yes I've heard of her, she has a good reputation. I think you're right, to refer him. He's going to need more help than I can give him"
"Good, I'll do the referral straight away and check back in later." and with that he left.
Steve stirred several times during the morning but never really woke up properly. At about 2 pm there was a knock on the door. A man entered he took out his badge as he introduced himself. "Detective Nathan Turner sir"
"Mark Sloan, what can I do for you detective?" Mark stood and headed toward the door. "We can talk outside." Detective Turner backed out of the room as Mark followed onto the corridor.
"I'm here about your son sir Lt Steve Sloan, I believe he was the victim of an attack yesterday"
"He's still under sedation, detective none of us are sure what happened and I'm not sure that he'll be that much help to you when he does come round."
"Reluctant to talk about it you mean?"
"Or unable to."
"I know what you mean sir but I've been working on this case for three months now"
"This case?"
"Yes sir, I believe your son was the victim of a serial attacker. There have been at least four other cases in the last three months and that's just the ones that have made it to the emergency rooms. People are pretty reluctant to admit to being the victims of this type of crime. Your son is the most seriously hurt so far but I believe it's only a matter of time before this guy kills someone. I figured that since your son is a police lieutenant, this is my best chance so far of getting a lead."
"No," Mark replied
"Are you saying that you won't cooperate?"
"The only thing that is important to me right now is my son's recovery both physical and mental. He's in no state to be questioned at the moment. I'm sorry, but we won't be able to help you. If that situation changes I'll get in touch."
"But Dr Sloan other people's lives may be at stake"
Mark closed his eyes. "I know that, but my son has devoted his life to helping other people and right now he's the one who needs the help. I'm sorry detective"
"Well I'll give you my card just in case you change your mind or you find anything that may help me."
Mark took the offered card and put it into his pocket "I hope you get your man detective," he shook detective Turner's hand. Then turned and reentered Steve's room.
It took Mark a moment to realise that Steve was awake. His eyes were open and he was staring at the ceiling.
"Steve," he walked over to the bed. "How are you feeling son?"
Steve turned away from him. "Dad I," he began but could not finish.
Mark put out a hand to touch Steve on the shoulder but he flinched way from it. Mark pulled his hand back not sure what to do.
"Dad please I just need some time alone." Steve eventually managed to say.
"Fine but if you need me, just get one of the nurses to page me," and with that, feeling even more helpless than he did before, Mark left. Steve stared at the ceiling for a long time before he eventually fell back to sleep.
Mark tried to go and see some of his patients but his mind was not on his work. So eventually he went back to his office and stared at the paperwork he was supposed to be doing. Finally he gave up completely and went to see how Jesse and Amanda were doing. They met up in the doctor's lounge and Mark filled them in on the days events including the visit by detective Turner.
Amanda was the first to speak "I understand your reasons for not wanting Steve disturbed Mark, but I think I'll see if I can help him with any forensics. After all we do want the person who did this to Steve caught and stopped."
Mark took them both by surprise with his reply "That's not my priority right now. I just want to see Steve better."
Jesse let the surprise show in his expression. "But surely you must want the person capable of doing this off the streets, especially if he's likely to do it again.
"Of course I do," Mark exploded with uncharacteristic anger. "It will just have to be done without my help, or Steve's. For once in my life I'm going to concentrate on those who are important to me instead of strangers. You do realise we could lose him for ever on this one." Mark rose, "If you need me I'll be in my office.
Neither of them knew how to respond so they sat for a few minutes in silence. This was not like Mark.
Steve woke up sweating and breathing heavily, a strong sense of panic gripped him, the nightmare had been so vivid, so real, almost as if it was actually happening to him. And then he remembered, that was because it wasn't a nightmare, it was a flashback, it had really happened. The feeling of panic got worse; he was having difficulty drawing breath, his chest felt tight. He wasn't thinking very clearly again. The painful memories wouldn't stop this time, wouldn't go away. He couldn't block them out like before. Then he remembered the desire to get to safety, to get home. Yes that is what he needed to do. If he could get home he would be safe, the panic would go away.
Mark had spent the rest of the afternoon in his office moving the paper on his desk around without really accomplishing anything Both Jesse and Amanda had stopped by a couple of times to check that he was alright and to report on Steve. So far he hadn't wanted to see any of them. All three kept checking with the nurses' station on the second floor, waiting for the message that Steve needed them, but it never came. By 6.00 pm Mark had resolved to go back anyway but before he could do anything about it his pager went off. It was the nurses' station. He headed for the elevator to find Jesse and Amanda already in it. They had all been paged.
When they reached the nurses station they found quite a commotion. The sister in charge came over to them. "I'm sorry Dr Sloan but I'm afraid there's been a terrible mix up," she was clearly concerned and spoke too quickly. "Steve's gone missing from his room. It happened at the changeover, one of my nurses went off sick. Nobody checked his room between 4.30 and now. I'm really sorry I've started a search of the hospital"
Mark could feel the urge to panic building inside him but he suppressed it and tried to think logically. "Ok Jesse, Amanda. You help search here I'm going to drive home see if he's managed to head there. Call me if you find anything.
For the second time in 36 hours Steve Sloan had managed to find his way home on foot. This time however, he knew where to look for the spare key and let himself into his apartment.
Mark drove quickly the worry lines beginning to show deeply creasing his forehead. If Steve was not at home he'd try Bob's and if not there then Jesse's or Amanda's and if not there then where? In Steve's current frame of mind he could go anywhere. No, Mark refused to let himself think like that. Steve would be at home or still at the hospital. He'd probably just gone for a walk. Mark had to believe that.
Within seconds of arriving at the beach house he knew he had found his son. The door to Steve's apartment was wide open. Mark walked quickly in but there was no sign of Steve. He called out his name several times but got no reply. Then he heard it, running water.
He ran into the bathroom and the sight that greeted him made his heart sink to a depth of despair that he hadn't felt since his wife's illness. Steve was standing in the shower, still fully clothed, scrubbing away at his upper body.
Mark walked over to him "Steve," he said gently.
Steve turned to look at his father. "I can't get clean dad. No matter how hard I rub I can't get clean."
"Steve," he said again gently and reached over to turn off the shower. The water was freezing cold. "Come on lets get you out of there"
"You don't understand," Steve said the desperation showing in his voice. "No matter how hard I rub," he repeated "I just can't get clean." and then he began to sob. He leaned back against the wall, finally realising that there was no water anymore, and as his strength deserted him slid down to the floor. "I just can't get clean," he muttered in between sobs.
Mark stood for a few moments transfixed, watching his son, unable to decide what to do to help. He moved back into the bedroom. He did not want to leave Steve alone but he needed Jesse here. He rang Jesse's cell phone. "Jesse?" Mark said as soon as it was answered. "He's here at the beach house can you get here as soon as possible?" and without waiting for a reply he hung up and moved quickly back into the bathroom. Nothing had changed. Steve was still slumped in the corner of the shower his shoulders moving up and down slightly as the sobs coursed through his upper body. Mark sat heavily on the wash basin. "That's right son,' he thought 'you cry it out, get it out of your system.' And so he sat and waited.
After about 15 minutes, the sobbing had died down, Steve was quiet in the corner his head on his knees. It was then that Mark noticed that his son was shivering. Mark stood quickly, of course, what had he been thinking, leaving Steve sitting there in cold damp clothing. He moved across to his son and spoke gently "Come on Steve it's time to get out of here." As he spoke he gently hooked his arm under Steve's and guided him up. Steve did not resist. As soon as he had stepped out of the shower. Mark draped a large towel around his shoulders, then guided him into the bedroom. He grabbed a blanket and wrapped that around Steve too.
Steve made no move to do anything under his own initiative, merely allowing himself to be guided around by his father.
Mark sat Steve down on the bed. He studied the wound on Steve's temple. The water had opened it up again and it had started to bleed, a thin line of blood ran down his cheek. It would need cleaning and dressing again. Mark sat down next to his son so that he could examine the wound more closely. He did not get the chance, Steve was exhausted, physically and mentally. He rested his head on his fathers shoulder, Mark instinctively put his arm round him.
"I'm home aren't I dad?" Steve said so softly that Mark almost missed it.
"Yes son you're home," Mark replied gently pulling him in closer.
"Good then I'm safe," he said and closed his eyes.
Mark could feel the tears running down his face as he held his son, gently rocking him, as he had done when he was a child.
That was how Jesse found them, Steve asleep in Mark's arms.
Between them Mark and Jesse managed to get Steve out of his wet clothes and into bed, disturbing him as little as possible. Jesse redressed his wounds and gave him another mild sedative to ensure a good nights rest. When Steve had been looked after Jesse turned his attention to Mark.
"How are you doing?" Jesse asked, looking with concern at Mark's pale drawn face.
"Better than him," he said indicating Steve's sleeping form.
"Should we try to get him back to the hospital?"
"No, I don't think that's a good idea. At the moment he sees this place as a safe haven. We'll keep him here tonight and I'll try and persuade him to go back in the morning. Can you stay to help me look after him?"
"Mark? Do you need to ask? Of course I'll stay. But you need to get your rest. I'll stay down here and watch Steve."
Mark would normally have argued but the events of the past couple of days had drained him completely. "If you're sure? Thanks Jess."
"Do you need something to help you sleep?"
"No, I'll be fine. Look after him," and with that Mark went upstairs.
Jess looked round put two chairs together and set about making himself comfortable. He quickly rang Amanda to fill her in on Steve's condition and then settled down for the night.
Part 7 - The Decision
Jesse slept fitfully. He woke up every hour or so and looked across at Steve to check he was alright. Only once did he have to get up to check more closely as Steve seemed to be having some sort of nightmare, but it passed and Steve settled down again so Jesse went back to sleep. He woke up with a start in the morning and looked across to the bed expecting to see Steve sleeping peacefully, but the bed was empty.
Jesse jumped up panicking a little and cursing himself for sleeping so soundly. "Steve?" He shouted.
"In here Jess." The reply came from the bathroom.
Jesse entered the bathroom unprepared for what he saw. Steve was standing at the bathroom mirror, shaving, looking like he didn't have a care in the world.
"Hi Jess," he said sounding cheerful, "sorry, did I wake you? I was trying to be as quiet as I could. I don't reckon you got much sleep."
"Steve," Jesse asked incredulously, "Are you ok?"
"Yes I'm fine. Honestly, I'm feeling much better." He turned and looked at Jesse and then looked back at the mirror, he was continuing to shave as he spoke.
"But last night," Jess started.
Steve interrupted him, "I know," he put his razor down and turned to face Jesse. "I lost it a bit. Everything just got on top of me, Jess. I don't think I could explain it if I tried and I'm not sure I want to. This whole thing is going to be difficult to come to terms with. But when I woke up today, everything just seemed better. I've got to try to get on with life." All the time he had been saying this he had held Jesse's gaze. The sincerity of what he was saying created an intense atmosphere. Steve tried to lighten the mood by throwing a towel at Jesse. "Now get out of here so I can finish getting dressed."
"If you're sure you're going to be ok?"
"Yes, go and see how my dad's doing and tell him I'll be up for breakfast." Jesse paused looking at Steve for any signs of the trauma of the last couple of days as Steve turned back to the mirror. "Will you get out of here?"
"Alright," Jesse said at last. He could see no reason to stay any longer. "I'm going."
And with that he headed upstairs to find Mark.
Mark was in the kitchen. He hadn't been up long himself. He was busy getting some coffee and took down another cup to pour Jesse some.
"Better make that three cups," Jesse said and told Mark about his conversation with Steve.
"He must be putting a brave face on it. You saw him last night." Mark said when Jesse had finished.
"I agree, but I don't think he's claiming a miracle cure. From what he said he knows he's got a long way to go, but it's a good first step"
"As long as he doesn't try to pretend it didn't happen."
"I wish I could." Steve was standing at the door.
Mark turned to look at his son. "Steve I'm sorry."
"It's ok dad. I'd be surprised if you weren't talking about me. Now how about some breakfast. Those IV drips may give you everything you need from a nutrition point of view, but my stomach still knows I haven't eaten for two days."
"Ok sit down son I'll get breakfast." Mark watched his son as he went to sit. He didn't know which behaviour he found most worrying what he had seen last night or this new, 'nothing is wrong' attitude that he saw now. He looked across at Jesse who looked back with "see what I mean' written all over his face.
After breakfast Mark broached the subject of going back to the hospital.
"Dad," Steve began, "I know you're not going to want to agree with this, so hear me out before you say anything so I can explain my reasoning. Please. I know you want me to go back to the hospital and I will. Sign me up for whatever counseling you think I need. But, for now, for today at least, I want to be here, at home. It's where I feel safe and I think I kind of need that security to help me get through this." Steve looked at his father, knowing he had not delivered his most controversial request. Mark remained quiet, as he had been asked, waiting for his son to finish. "And I want to be alone."
That did it Mark could not keep quiet at that. "Steve, I'm not sure that's wise at the moment. I can see your reasons for wanting to stay here, but either me or Jesse can switch shifts at the hospital and stay out here with you. We don't have to sit in each other's pockets, just be here.'
"Look dad, I'm grateful, but I think you're being over protective. I'll be fine here on my own and I'll ring you every hour so you'll know I'm ok, if you want, but please trust me. I need to be alone and I need to know that someone isn't going to keep popping their head round the door every five minutes checking up on me. I have to have time to think. You have to let me deal with this in my own way."
Mark thought about what his son was saying. Was he being over protective? Maybe, but then he thought back to last night and his son standing in the shower, the haunted look on his face. What if that happened again?
Steve studied his father's face, over the years he had learned to read what his father's reaction was going to be before he actually said anything. On this occasion it looked like his father was going to say yes but then his face clouded over and he knew it would be no. He jumped in again before his father could say anything. "If you're worried about something like last night. I will call you every hour. If I don't call, you can come back."
Mark was about to say no. He studied his son's face, he still looked pale and he could still see the pain etched in lines across his forehead, but there was something of the old sparkle back in his eyes and he seemed logical and rational. "Ok," Mark said guardedly "but you must promise to call if you need anything at all."
Steve sat back the relief showing on his face. "I will."
Jesse spoke for the first time; he figured the conversation before that, was between Steve and Mark. "Or you can call me, or Amanda"
Steve smiled, "I know that"
Jesse turned more professional. "I'll leave you some antibiotics to take and I'd like to look at the other cuts before we go, put fresh dressings on."
"Ok doc, Come on then."
Jesse and Mark headed off for Community General at around 8.00 am. Steve watched them go and turned round and walked into the house. He was relieved that he'd been able to talk them into going, and now, he could finally admit to himself the true reason why. He had a lot to do, but first he set his watch alarm to beep every hour to remind him to phone the hospital. He didn't want his dad coming home early.
Then he went into his room and started sorting things. There were lots of decisions to be made and that kept his mind occupied and busy for much of the morning. After the third phone call at 11am. He sat and thought for the first time about what he was doing.
He wasn't entirely sure at what time he'd made the decision, only that he'd been lying in bed about to go into another set of panic when the idea had occurred to him as the only solution. Having thought about it, and decided it was his only option, a new sense of calm had descended over him. He had lain awake for some time more, planning everything out in detail. When he was sure he'd accounted for everything, he got up to get ready for the day. That was when Jesse found him. The calm and inner peace that making the decision had given him had allowed him to put on the front for his father and Jesse. The only way to persuade them to go, and leave him alone. The only way he could carry out his plan.
Steve had decided that he would never be able to come to terms with what had happened to him and that ultimately he would destroy himself and those closest to him: dad, Jesse and Amanda, if he were to try. The decision he had come to was that it would be best for everyone if he wasn't around. He had decided to kill himself.
Part 8 - Back from the brink
Steve had spent the morning arranging his things, setting his affairs in order, they called it. He had dealt with many suicides as a part of his job and it always seemed slightly easier on the relatives, if they didn't have the added pain of having to deal with the victim's effects. He wanted this to be as painless as possible for everyone.
Each phone call he had to make became a little harder, but he kept the tone light and listened to his father's advice, promising each time to follow it. At 1.00pm He called Jesse and Amanda as well. He claimed he was doing it so that they wouldn't worry but really he just wanted to hear their voices for one last time. Neither of them realised the significance of the goodbyes at the end of the conversation but for Steve it was the most difficult word he'd ever had to say.
By the two o'clock call nearly everything was ready. He rang his dad for the last time and almost blew it at the end of the conversation when he couldn't say the word goodbye without choking up. He covered it with a cough and was fairly sure he'd got away with it. He sat looking at the bottles of pills on the table in front of him. He was out on the deck where he could see the ocean. It was now or never.
Mark had managed to keep himself busy for most of the day. He had even managed to make some useful progress on his paperwork. It had taken a great deal of self-control for him not to go home for lunch just to check on how Steve was doing. But Steve had kept his promise and had rung every hour on the hour and he sounded fine, so Mark had to keep his word too and stay in work.
It was only as he hung the phone up from the two o'clock call that he'd started to have an inkling of doubt. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but his instincts told him that there was something wrong. He didn't have much time to consider it when there was a knock on his door. "Come in."
Dr Carter walked in, "Hi Dr Sloan I wondered if I could have a word."
Mark smiled as he stood and gestured for her to come in. "Dr Carter isn't it?"
She nodded, Mark had seen her around the hospital but they had never actually met. "Of course please have a seat."
"I'll get straight to the point as I've just sneaked down between patients. I wanted to ask you about Steve - he's been referred to me after being attacked. I understand he left the hospital last night. I was wondering if you could fill me in with some background. Is he coming back?"
"Yes, I think so, but I am very concerned about him," and with that opening, Mark poured out everything that had happened in the last two days, right up to the most recent phone call. He wasn't sure if it was going to help Steve, but telling someone his own feelings about it all, was certainly therapy for him. At the end of his narrative Dr Carter looked worryingly concerned.
"You say he was completely calm this morning, almost as if nothing had happened to him?"
"Yes," Mark heard in the tone of Dr Carter's question, a concern that he didn't like.
"And he was very insistent that you leave him alone all day?"
"Yes."
"Mark you're a doctor. Do you keep a medical bag at home?"
"Yes," he did not like where this line of questioning was going. "My god you don't think he.." He couldn't finish the question.
"What time was the last phone call?"
"2.o'clock, he looked at his watch about 20 minutes ago"
"Mark I think you should go home- now. If I'm wrong Steve will be a little upset, but if I'm right," she let the sentence hang unfinished.
Mark was now sufficiently concerned not to need telling twice. "Thankyou Dr Carter, I'll follow your advice." He said and left the room as quickly as he could.
For the entire drive to the beach house Mark hoped that Dr Carter was wrong, but he could now put the pieces together for himself and, with a growing fear inside him, he knew that she was right. He cursed himself for not seeing it sooner. Now it could be too late.
Mark almost ran into the beach house for the third time in as many days, he was here looking for his son with a real concern for his safety. He quickly checked through every room, shouting out Steve's name as he moved through the house. He finally came out onto the deck. Steve was sitting there staring out at the ocean. Mark took in the whole scene in an instant there were several bottles on the table and a pen and paper next to where Steve was sitting.
"Steve," he said urgently, "Have you taken anything."
Steve carried on staring out at the ocean. "No, you can check the bottles, they're all still full."
Mark felt the relief wash over him. He sat down and allowed his breathing to settle before he carried on with the conversation.
"How did you know?" Steve asked
"Dr Carter, she's the psychiatrist you've been referred to, I told her about your behavior and reactions. She sent me out here. I'm just relieved I wasn't too late."
"You are."
Mark felt that fear again "But you said you haven't.."
"No," Steve interrupted, "but if I'd kept to my plan it would all have been over by now."
"What stopped you?"
"The note."
"The note?"
"I tried to write a note to you, to explain, so you would understand," he paused, "and I couldn't do it. I knew you would never understand, that you would always blame yourself for leaving me here. So I couldn't do it."
Mark looked at the collection of pill bottles on the table. "A pretty lethal combination. There's no way we would have been able to save you"
"That was the idea. This wasn't a cry for help." Steve had known exactly what to use to make sure it was final. Years in homicide with a father as a doctor had taught him that. "I had also arranged for one of the guys from the station to come over and talk to me at 3pm so you wouldn't be the one to find the body"
"Very considerate." Mark said unable to keep the sarcastic tone out of his voice.
For the first time Steve took his eyes off the ocean and turned and looked at his father. "I was trying to make it easier on you."
"You couldn't"
Steve looked away again "I know"
The whole conversation was carried out with a detached calm that made it almost surreal. The enormity of what they were discussing would have overwhelmed them both at any other level.
"What now," Steve asked.
"Will you go back to the hospital?"
"Psych ward?"
"Yes"
"In patient?"
"Yes"
Steve considered it. "How long?"
"As long as it takes."
"Yes," Steve said with a heavy sigh. "You'd best set it up. I'll go and put some things together" and with that he got up and went inside to pack.
Mark was left sitting on the deck, now it was his turn to cry. Part with relief, part fear at what had so nearly happened.
Steve and Mark pulled up outside the hospital at around 4pm. They went inside together and Steve walked into the psych ward to admit himself. His road to recovery had finally begun.