Steve?
Summary: When Steve is attacked, Mark suspects that Steve's mother is involved.
It was dark, waves lapped against the shore of the beach in West LA. The four men, clad in uniform black tee-shirts and trousers, dark silhouettes against the late evening sky as the sun set in the distance, crept up to the door of the beach house. The beautiful sky contrasted with the scene playing out below. A cry of surprise and pain could be heard from the house, but the area was deserted and no one heard. Just like the men had planned it. For Steve Sloan it would be a long night.
" Steve?" Mark Sloan stuck his head round the open front door. He frowned. It was unlike his over-cautious son to leave the door to the beach house unlocked. Receiving no answer, and beginning to worry, Mark quietly pushed the door open and stepped inside. He frowned again when he saw Steve's gun lying on the table in the front room, Steve would never leave his gun lying around where anyone could reach it. Picking up the gun, Mark slowly checked both the kitchen and outside, before daring to venture upstairs. Deciding to check in Steve's bedroom first, he found his son bound and gagged on the floor. Steve's muffled shouts became more urgent and annoyed as his father bent down to untie him. If it wasn't for the deep concern for his son Mark felt, Steve's protestations would have been funny. Mark saw the fear in his son's eyes and removed the gag first.
Steve's sigh of relief as the gag came free was nothing compared to the relief that Mark felt when he saw that his son was unharmed. Steve groaned then said, " Took you a long time to get home!"
Mark knew that his son was trying to make light of the situation to ease his own fear, but the statement didn't fail to anger him, " Steve..." he warned shakily but with a firm tone.
His son immediately looked contrite, " Sorry Dad."
Mark finished loosening the rope that held Steve and the younger man wriggled free. He pushed himself up and collapsed onto the bed, sitting down. Mark sat down next to him, placing a comforting arm around Steve's shoulders.
" You alright, Steveo?" He asked, using his son's childhood nickname.
" Yeah dad." But Steve still seemed shaky and Mark wasn't taking any chances. He gave the young man a once over and all the usual tests that he could perform without going to the hospital.
" All right, you'll live." He finally decided, "Do you know what they wanted?" He knew it had to have been more than one attacker to restrain Steve.
Steve shook his head, " I dunno." he said quietly, "They trashed your room."
Mark frowned, " So they were looking for something specific..."
" Any ideas?"
" Nada. I suggest we have something to eat, then call Jack and Amanda. get someone to look at it with fresh eyes."
" Good idea. Do you ever sleep?" Steve asked light heartedly, the sparkle in his eyes telling his father he was joking.
Mark chuckled, " What's sleep?"
Over a late dinner of pepperoni pizza, the two decided to leave calling their friends until the next morning, they didn't want to wake them so late. Steve was animatedly describing the men who had attacked them, Mark was wondering where his son was finding the energy, and the pizza was getting cold. Steve decided to rectify that and Mark began to wonder where his son got his appetite from. Looking dubiously at his half-eaten, stone cold slice of pizza that Steve was now eyeing hopefully, he decided it was not from him and offloaded the remains of his dinner onto Steve's plate. Steve's vivid despcription of the men was just what Mark expected from a policeman; full of detail and not useful in any way whatsoever. All four men had been wearing dark clothes and black ski masks. None had spoken to him so he couldn't tell what nationality they might be, but he had been able to smell the distinctive acrid sent of cigar smoke. One of them limped, and another had only four fingers. Although all the men had worn gloves, this man had tied Steve up, allowing him to see the man's hands in detail and notice that one finger of the glove wasn't filled.
Soon, talk turned to the subject of what Steve's attackers had been looking for,
" Maybe it has something to do with your mother... because I can't think of anything I would have that would interest anyone like that."
Steve nodded, his face filled with doubt. He believed that his father was not mixed up with anyone such as the men involved in the assault, but found it equally hard to believe that his mother had been. When she was still alive. All he said was, " But mom died years ago. Why would anyone come looking now?"
Mark shook his head, " I don't know son. I don't know."
Gloom descended over the two men, and silence reigned until Steve said, " I'm gonna go to bed. Been a long day. I'll see you in the morning dad."
" Sure." Mark replied, frowning. Usually it took all kinds of threats to force his son to go to bed at a decent time. Then again, the young man had been through a lot that evening and Mark decided that he would rather Steve got a decent night's sleep than that he should have an argument with him.