Title--Diagnosis-Revenge

Diagnosis-Revenge-- 7

Mark Sloan fought the effects of the heavy drugs he'd been given and forced heavy lids to open. The room was dark, with just the lights on the IV monitor to illuminate the edge of his bed. He lifted his right arm, careful not to dislodge the IV and rubbed at his head. He remembered someone telling him he had a concussion, and was glad the blurred vision seemed to have subsided.

Mark reached up and turned on the light, clamping his eyes shut when the too bright orb sent daggers of pain through his skull. He knew he should turn out the light and close his eyes, but he needed to know how his son was doing. Sloan used his right hand to find the controls for the bed and pressed the one that would raise his upper body.

Mark ignored the pain as he managed to lower the rail and slide his legs over the edge until his feet touched the floor. He grabbed for the small cabinet next to the bed as a wave of dizziness threatened to send him to his knees. He swayed, but managed to stay upright and eased his feet into the slippers that had been placed beside his bed. As a doctor he knew what he was doing was foolhardy, but as a father he needed to find out about his son. He had to see for himself that Steve was still alive and fighting to survive.

Mark closed his eyes against the sudden vision of Steve dying in his arms and although he knew it wasn't true he needed to get to the SICU. He looked around for something he could wrap around his body, his eyes lighting on an extra gown lying over the back of a chair. He picked it up and tried to put it on, frustrated because of the immobilized shoulder and the IV in the opposite arm. He dropped the gown and reached for the IV, jumping guiltily when a voice sounded from the doorway.

"Dr. Sloan, what do you think you're doing?" Anna Downey snapped when she noted her patient's hand was pulling at the tape that secured his IV.

"I…uh…I was having trouble…"

"Trouble is my middle name, Dr. Sloan. I'm under orders to do what's necessary to see that you don't neglect your health and I will use the medications Dr. Travis prescribed if you force me too. I believe you've known me long enough to know I don't make idle threats even when the patient is one of our own distinguished physicians."

"Anna, I…" Mark smiled weakly as the robust woman placed her hand on her hips and stared him down. There weren't many people who could pull the look off, but Anna Downey was one of them and he sat back on the bed. It didn't surprise him when she sat down next to him and placed her arms around his shoulders.

"I know you're worried about Steve, Mark, but ignoring your own health is not going to help him. He's still heavily sedated and won't even know you're there…"

"But I will," Mark told her dejectedly. "It's my fault he's in here…"

"That's not what I heard," Downey said sympathetically. "I heard you did everything possible to save that boy's life and it was his friends that decided to take it out on you and Steve. Don't take the blame when it's not yours to shoulder, Mark, because God only knows we all do it often enough as it is. Steve is a fighter and he comes from good stock…"

"I can't lose him too," Sloan whispered.

"You won't, Mark, just have faith in him and you'll both be badgering the staff to let you out of here," Downey said with a hint of a smile. "Now why don't you lie back and I'll bring your medications?"

"After I see Steve…"

"Mark…"

"Please, Anna, just for a few minutes."

Anna Downey had never heard such misery in his voice and could not resist the moisture filled eyes that stared at her. She knew this man would not rest until he was sure his son was still with him. She'd seen his grief when his daughter died and understood how much Steve Sloan meant to him…he was Mark's only surviving child and that alone was a heavy cross to bear. She knew she'd lost the battle before it had even begun and sighed heavily. "I'll have an orderly bring a wheelchair…"

"Thank you…"

"Let me finish, Dr. Sloan," Anna said, deliberately using the more formal title as she stood and placed her hands on her ample hips once more. "The orderly will take you to see Steve and will return you in fifteen minutes or I'll come find you with a nice dull needle and poke you where the sun doesn't shine."

Mark Sloan couldn't stop the smile from forming and yet he knew Anna Downey was deadly serious. He'd seen her do it before…to his own son when Steve had tried to escape without Mark's or Jesse's discharge orders.

"Are we clear, Dr. Sloan?"

"We're clear, Anna," Mark said, wincing when she helped him into the second gown.

"You stay there and I'll be right back with the wheelchair," Downey told him.

Mark sat where he was, fighting hard to ignore the pain in his shoulder. He knew he should take the pain medication, but right now it would put him down for the count and he could not allow that to happen. Anna and the orderly entered the room and helped him into the chair.

"Fifteen minutes, Harold, and then you bring him back here for my TLC," Anna said as she covered Mark Sloan's legs with a warmed blanket.

"I'll bring him back, Anna," Harold Stoddard agreed and wheeled the chair from the room.

Mark hadn't realized how late it was until they entered the hallway and he noticed the lights were turned down indicating visiting hours were long gone. "What time is it?"

"4:13," Harold answered before pushing the button and summoning the elevator.

Mark knew he should know what day it was, but injuries and medications made it hard to think clearly and he ran his left hand over his face tiredly. He leaned back as the doors opened and the orderly took control, pushing him inside and pressing the button for the appropriate floor. It wasn't long before he was inside the SICU where his son, his strong, tall son, was lying amidst a jumble of machinery that dwarfed him.

"I'll be back in ten minutes, Dr. Sloan," Harold said, not really expecting an answer as the older man seemed intent on his son. He nodded to the nurse who moved away from the bed to give father and son some time together.

"Steve," Mark said, choking on the familiar name even as he reached out to take his son's hand in his own. "I've always known your job was dangerous and that someday I might have to face your…your death, but not like this. You go out on the streets every damn day and you do everything you can to make them safe...I wish…I wish I could turn back the clock and turned the Johnson boy over to someone else…"

"Dr. Sloan would you like some water or juice?"

"No, thank you Pamela," Mark answered and continued to look at his son, taking in every bruise and laceration and bandage that covered his body. "I know you don't blame me, Son, but I blame myself…did I do everything I could for Brian Johnson? Could I have done more?"

"Dr. Sloan?"

"Yes, Pamela."

"I haven't been here very long, but I've seen you work and cared for the patients you've saved. I know you did everything you could for the Johnson boy and I know when your son wakes up he'll tell you the same thing," Pamela Walker observed.

"Thank you, Pamela…sometimes I wonder," Sloan said simply and returned his attention to the still form on the bed. "Steve, I'm here, Son…we'll get through this together…"

"Now how did I know I'd find you here?"

"Hi, Jesse…I needed to see him," Mark answered simply.

"I understand, Mark, but neglecting your own health won't help him," Travis told him.

"I know…I'm ready to go back now, but…how is he, Jesse?"

"He's better than we thought at this point, Mark, but his fever is still dangerously high. Daniel wants to keep him sedated for another twelve hours and then we're going to ease up on the medications and see how he's doing…"

"I want to be here."

"I know and you will be as long as you get the rest you need. Come on…I'll take you back to your room," Travis offered.

"I'll be back, Steve," Mark whispered and squeezed his son's hand before reluctantly releasing him and allowing Jesse to wheel him out of the room. He remained silent through the trip back to his room and was grateful when the younger man helped him into bed. A soft moan escaped when he lay back on the pillows and he knew he'd waited too long.

"Mark, Anna is going to give you a shot…are you nauseas?"

"My stomach is doing flip flops," Sloan answered honestly.

"She'll also give you something to help settle that," Travis said nodding to the nurse who hurried to get the required medications. "You know this is probably going to knock you out so don't fight it and just maybe the kitchen will send you up something for breakfast."

"The usual?"

"Of course…just because you work here doesn't mean you get special treatment. Rest, Mark, Steve's doing okay…"

"You'll come get me if he…if anything changes?"

"You know I will," Travis said as the nurse returned and injected the ordered medications into his IV line. He heard a heavy sigh from his friend and placed a gentle hand on his left arm before speaking softly. "Try not to worry, Mark."

"Dr. Travis how is Steve Sloan?" Anna asked once they turned out the light and left the room.

"He's critical, Anna, but Steve has always been a fighter and I know he's going to beat this," Travis told her and hoped he was right as he made his way to the ER to start his shift.

DMDMDMDMDMDMDM

Tatiana had learned when to stay away from Damian and she cowered in the corner of the bedroom as he paced back and forth in front of the boarded up window. Two days had passed since the cops had rescued the Sloans and none of their friends had shown up at the house. Tatiana understood what that meant and could see the anger as if it was a neon sign around Damian's neck. The newspapers they'd stolen from in front of the house on the next street spoke of the daring rescue and the deaths of several members of El Diablo.

Damian strode toward her, grabbing her arms and pulling her to her feet. His anger had always manifested itself in dark and dangerous ways and he pressed his body against hers, pinning her against the wall as he captured her mouth in a bruising imitation of a kiss. He ground his hips against hers and heard her gasp, and knew she enjoyed it rough as he pulled her into his arms and dropped her on the makeshift bed they shared.

"It's just you and me now Tati, but that's enough for what we have to do," Damian said and stretched out beside her.

"What are we going to do, Damian?"

"We're going to kill the Sloans and then we're going to leave this shit hole of a town behind us…"

"We'll need money…"

"We'll rob a liquor store…grab some good stuff while we're at it. We'll have us a real good party with the Sloans before we leave," Damian told her.

"They deserve to die," Tatiana said, knowing that was exactly what her lover wanted to hear. He nuzzled her neck and she could feel his hot breath against her skin. The anger that had spurred him to strike her earlier was gone and her fears receded as his touch made her feel special.

"I need you, Tati," Damian whispered.

"I love you, Damian…I need you," she assured him and folded her body against his as the lights across the street went off.

TBC