The Siren Calls Him Home
Hi, this is an alternative version of the story I wrote entitled 'The Siren Calls Him'. Although it starts the same it does change direction from the original later on (honestly!). This was an idea I had quite a while ago, but for some reason I can't explain started to write the other one instead. After finding the note I had made about this story again I decided to combine the two. I'd love to know what you think of them and which you prefer. Constructive criticism also will be listened to. I hope to hear from you soon.
There are just a couple more things I should tell you. Firstly and unfortunately I don't have the help and support of a beta reader so I would like to apologise in advance for any mistakes grammatical or otherwise you may find in my story. Secondly is of course my disclaimer, I own nothing and no one associated with Diagnosis Murder. I have just borrowed a few of the guys for a little while...again. Ok I'll be shutting up and leaving you to it now
I hope you enjoy it and thanks for reading!
He could hear the siren of sleep calling him.
It had been an endlessly long day. It had started with an early morning arrest at 6:30 the culmination of months of painstaking investigation. The consequence of which was the richly deserved arrest of a particularly nasty killer that preyed on children and had somehow held on to a job as a teacher! Now safely behind bars and looking at a decidedly bleak future Steve wanted nothing more than to celebrate. But much work was still to be done. Hours of interviews followed the arrest as well as a court appearance in the afternoon concerning a previous case wrapped up months before. On getting back to the station the beleaguered cop had been confronted with a stack of paperwork he could have sworn was taller than Jesse! But somehow Steve had kept his eyes open long enough to complete his obligation and now at 12:30am he concentrated on the road and the drive home.
Winding through Los Angeles in the dead of night was usually a sobering experience, the city streets overtaken by inhabitants whose solely nocturnal activities required the cover of darkness and the emptiness of the early morning. Drug deals cut in the shadows; nameless, faceless bodies seeking shelter in any empty doorway; ladies of the night plying their trade. But tonight as tired as he was Steve took in nothing of his surroundings focussing completely on the road in front of him.
The inexplicable growth of the paper work on his desk had meant the veteran cop was unable to make his shift at BBQ Bob's and he was trying to come up with a suitable apology after the hurried phone call earlier declaring his absence to the irate ER doctor, when he started to notice wisps of smoke drifting across the night sky. In the few seconds it took for his sleep deprived mind to process what he was seeing the wisps of smoke had turned thicker and darker. Knowing he had to help if he could Steve turned off the road he was travelling and followed the smoke trail.
It took his sleep deprived mind a few moments to realise the building he was approaching was BBQ Bob's. Bright orange and yellow flames licked the window pane tormenting the glass that already lay shattered on the floor. He watched transfixed as the paint bubbled and flaked and the bricks blackened without as much as a fight. He heard quiet footsteps and hushed whispers as the spectacle started to draw a crowd.
In those few quiet seconds he felt a sickening dread settle in his stomach and his whole body began to shake. A huge part of his life was disintegrating in front of him and there was nothing he could do about it but stand and watch.
A flash of metal caught his eye and turning his head slowly to face it his breath caught in his throat. There stood lonely and silent lit up by the warm glow of the fire was the good doctor's car. Horror, Panic and Pain ripped through him with a ferocity that nearly broke him there and then. "My God" he whispered. "Jesse's still in there". Breaking into a run he ran flat out towards the burning building shouting his friend's name as loud as the lump in his throat would allow. Stopping just long enough to pull his coat over his mouth and shield his face as best he could with his free arm, he pulled his leg back and kicked the front door with all the strength he could muster. Taking one last gulp of clean air he carried on in to the restaurant.
The heat was ferocious, with an intensity he'd never experienced before, never wanted to again. Flames licked every stick of furniture, climbed every wall. He'd been in fires before as a volunteer when forest fires hit. But this was different. This time there was no safety equipment, no backup. This time it was just him, scared and alone. But the thought of his best friend hurt and afraid pushed him on. He navigated the broken tables and shattered chairs carefully one at a time, his breath catching with every creak of the floor and lurch of the ceiling, trying hard not to think of the consequences should they give way. Moving as quickly as he could he battled his way through the wreckage, felt the thick black smoke clawing at his throat, his lungs fighting for release. He dropped down low looking for clean air, anything to release the iron grip he felt slowly tightening around his chest. But his growing need for Oxygen still weighed heavy and his head began to swim. The thought of Jesse again invaded his mind and this time he saw in his mind's eye his closest friend laying hurt and unconscious, unable to shout, unable to breath. Incapable of doing anything but continue and crawling on his hands and knees he dragged himself further inside.
A penetrating heat seeped through the floor attacking his whole body as he inched forward. His skin prickled defenceless against the merciless and relentless force that assaulted him. It felt like hours but just moments later he saw a glimpse of Blue, one tiny sliver of colour amidst the bright yellow and bottomless Black. Jesse! Hauling himself towards the colour with every bit of mental and physical strength he could muster he tried to call out but as soon as he parted his lips thick acrid smoke attacked him. Finally he was there and so was Jesse. The young doctor lay on his stomach flames inching closer with every passing second. Rising to his feet coughing and spluttering he closed his eyes tight, grabbed the younger man by the arms and hoisted him on to his shoulders. Gritting his teeth and bracing his back the veteran cop began to trace his way back through the remains of the restaurant, his precious load completely unaware of the danger he was in.
Charred wood and melted plastic littered his path but still he struggled on; willing his broken body to put one foot in front of the other. It seemed to take so much longer on the return journey than it did first time round. Still he soldiered on, inch by inch, footstep by footstep. His chest ached, his breathing ragged. The need for oxygen became more and more urgent; until finally his weakened body could take no more. His legs buckled beneath him and the older man and his cargo tumbled to the floor. His mind drifted, flipping through scenes of his life. His eyes flickering beneath the lids the only sign of life from two beaten friends.
Outside Blues and Reds flashed the arrival of the help so desperately needed. Sharp, brisk tones the cue for the healthy crowd now gathered to part ways and allow for the progression of the life-saving aid. A flurry of activity heralded the start of the emergency rescue plan, each man knowing their role to perfection, working like a well-oiled machine. Water sprays launched onto the ailing restaurant, firefighters in protective clothing ran into the building amidst reports of people still inside, police officers ploughed their way through each witness statement, piecing together the night's events bit by bit.
Painstakingly the fire crews sifted through the burning wreckage of the once thriving business; each step taken deepening the risk to their own lives. But none of that mattered. People were in need, in danger and as long as they were able the search would go on. In real time it took only minutes but heat, adrenalin and fear stretched it into hours. Eventually an ecstatic cry signalled the discovery all had been waiting for; barely breathing and black as soot but alive and fighting still.
Carried from the debris almost like babes in arms both men bundled into the back of separate ambulances; the fight for life now given over to a different set of professionals, the approach no less frantic, no less passionate. Paramedics now took the lead.
Steve was quickly given Oxygen and pain killing drugs to soothe him while his burns, cuts and scrapes were properly dressed. Despite the analgesics injected into his veins the intense agony shooting through his body was enough to bring him back from the brink abruptly and with a start. Disorientated from lack of Oxygen and his body's reaction to the strong medication assaulting him in his weakened state, he struggled to form coherent sentences and the mask covering his nose and mouth stifled the few words he could manage. Instead he lay back, listening to the soothing voice he could hear from so very far away, willing it to come closer and never leave.
In the second ambulance the pace was far more frenetic, far more frenzied. The smooth blue line that sombrely crossed the monitor attached to Jesse's chest announced the deterioration to the world, the low persistent beep the audible harbinger of deadly news. The young doctor's heart was no longer beating…
His whole body went into spasm and leapt from the gurney, the electronic charge that snaked towards his core sparking life into every synapse it touched. Again and again his heart was defibrillated. Again and again his being writhed and thrashed, the charge released meandering through every vein, every artery, alive, its touch magnetic. It was on the third attempt that success finally came. A slight, slow beat at first but a beat never the less. The woman who had worked so hard to preserve his life sat down with a deep sigh, her eyes never leaving her patient, her hands constantly working. The middle aged man in the driver's seat pushed the gas pedal just a little bit harder; his only goal to get to Community General Hospital as fast as humanly possible.
The ER was bustling with people when the patients were rolled in. All anxious to do everything they could for one of their own. Separated once again the two men were taken through to independent Trauma rooms. Steve's condition quickly stabilised, panic over. The team assigned to him slowed to a steady rhythm, keeping him comfortable, keeping him calm. Jesse's team worked hard and fast. Every role fulfilled with the utmost dedication. Finally after an hour of feverish, desperate toil Doctor Travis was in an induced coma and on a Ventilator to allow his burnt and battered body the time it needed to recover.
It wasn't until the next day that Steve was finally able to successfully traverse the mountain of obstacles between him and his closest friend. Every turn of a hospital corridor brought a fresh gaggle of nurses ready, willing and able to take him back to his bed. But undaunted he fought his way through; he would not be denied again, not again. He failed to help the younger man when he had needed it most. The very least he could do was stay by his side now. Talk to him, cajole him, or plead with him; whatever it takes. He would get back on his feet again and he would be the bright, talented doctor he was before; he would make sure of it. He knew when Jesse awoke there would be questions to answer, explanations to give and apologies to offer. But that didn't matter now. He settled himself down in the chair beside the bed and amidst the silence of the room his eyes began to close, lulled gently to sleep by the rhythmic hiss of the artificial respirator, the sound that told him Jesse Travis was alive.
The siren called him home.
.