A/N : Wow! Thank you all for the reviews and PM's. I'm touched and I really do appreciate the feedback. Sorry for the 'shock factor' in the last chapter. Yes, the story does get a little darker from here – but before you ask it's not a death fic and yes there is always light at the end of the tunnel – but I am changing this to M to be on the safe side.

Chapter 9

Sheldon Hawkes shook hands with his former colleague and friend, no longer able to look him in the eye. He merely nodded his thanks and turned away. He was grateful that they were in a part of the hospital off limits to members of the public. More than anything he needed a few minutes to compose himself before facing them. He took several paces towards the double-doors, his footsteps echoing loudly in the silent corridor. He paused if only to delay the inevitable by a few more seconds.

Simon Gallespie had met Sheldon while they were training. Although they had never become close friends Simon admired and respected him. Sheldon had been a great doctor and, though Simon was surprised when Sheldon had transferred to the medical examiner's office, he knew that he excelled in his chosen profession. It tore at his soul to watch his former classmate as he walked slowly down the corridor pausing before the doors to the waiting area. It was always hard to give family and friends difficult news and Simon felt guilty. It was his job, his responsibility to inform the group of people sitting in the waiting room of the status of his patient but somehow these people were different, this situation was different, and this patient was different. He had thought he'd seen it all. In his seven years in the emergency room, he had seen falls, road accidents, beatings, stabbings, gun-shot wounds, addicts high on some substance or other, be it drugs or alcohol. He had seen old men, young women, children, adolescents, sometimes patients that were even hard to identify at first glance but, last night, for the first time in his career, he had been truly shocked by the patient brought into his ER.

It had been a relatively slow evening. He dealt with several minor injuries that he quickly dispatched and two elderly patients that required monitoring before being transferred to the appropriate units. There had been the usual number of time-wasters and a woman who had barely made it through the doors with a bag of groceries surprised by her baby making an early appearance. Just a run of the mill evening. As he finished with his last patient a code red had come through and he had slipped on clean scrubs, clean gloves and checked the reception area making sure it was in order. Just the same as he would for any other call. He had smiled at Sally. He liked Sally and was trying to pluck up courage to ask her out. She had smiled back before she joined the trauma team that had gathered at the doors and he had waited for them to wheel in the patient. His first surprise was seeing Sheldon Hawkes holding two IV bags and giving quiet but firm instructions to the team. They had looked at one another in surprise for less than a second, both knowing that time wasn't a luxury in their line of work and Simon knew by the look on Sheldon's face it was serious. Normally he would have sent him out at that point but for some reason that he couldn't explain he didn't.

Simon looked down at his patient pushing away his curiosity. Male, around fifty, severely beaten, a possible facial fracture. His eyes catalogued the visual injuries as Sally began to cut away the clothing. More bruising to the torso, definitely a broken rib or two. He immediately called for X-rays and a blood work-up. His ears registered Sheldon telling her to be careful with his hands. "Dehydration, blood-loss, falling BP, severe trauma, probable bisection of the median nerve." Simon unwrapped the trauma dressings from the man's right hand and froze at the sight of the nails protruding from the palm. Tearing his eyes away to look at Sheldon, he caught sight of his patient's other hand, a multitude of metal spikes smeared with blood lay glistening in the harsh emergency room lights. When he finally made eye-contact with his friend and his team the horror on his face had mirrored those around him. It was then that he noticed the total silence that had pervaded the normally noisy and chaotic room.

Simon pushed away the memories and pulled out his mobile phone and skimmed through the list of names. He waited for a only few seconds, surprised that the call was answered so quickly. "Dr Skelton? My name is Simon Gallespie from N.Y. General. I need a consult on a patient that was brought in the evening ... To be honest sir, I'm not sure where to start... " Simon watched Sheldon make his way through the doors to the waiting room. It was selfish he knew but he was glad it wasn't him.

Jo hadn't moved from the window since they had been shown into the waiting room. Don had offered her a seat a dozen times but she refused to move. He brought her tea but she had barely touched it. The minutes ticked by and then the minutes turned into hours. Don had expected Sheldon to join them almost immediately. Lindsay had left to relieve the sitter and Danny had had to take charge of the crime scene so Don was left with Jo. Finally the door opened and Sheldon stepped in. Don thought he had never seen him look so drawn.

"Sheldon?" Jo spun round, her eyes full of tears.

"He's stable and comfortable. We removed all the ..." Sheldon couldn't bring himself to say it as he fingered the bag in his hands. "He's going to need surgery but Simon … Dr Gallespie … wanted to get him stabilized first. Simon has called a specialist in hand surgery to evaluate the damage. The right hand isn't too bad but the left hand is more problematic."

"What else?" asked Jo nervously. Sheldon looked at her.

"Broken ribs, broken cheekbone, bruised kidneys, dehydration, blood loss, shock … I'm surprised he was able to last as long as he did."

"Can we see him?"

Sheldon shook his head. "He's sedated. It's best if he's left for the time being. He's under round the clock care."

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'CSI:NY – CSI:NY – CSI:NY – CSI:NY – CSI:NY'

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Dr Raymond Skelton, a lean man with sharp blue eyes and thinning grey hair studied the x-rays on the light-board next to him and then the pictures from the MRI. He turned to look at Simon. "This was some kind of accident?" he asked hesitantly, knowing perfectly well that it couldn't be so. Simon merely shook his head and swallowed. "What kind of person would do a thing like this?" Simon didn't answer. He suspected that his esteemed colleague wasn't expecting an answer to his question. "Well, the right hand shouldn't be a problem. A relatively straight-forward procedure to reconnect the nerve endings and repair the conduit. How soon do you think we can operate?"

Simon was grateful for a question he could answer. "Detective Taylor is responding well to treatment. Remarkably so considering what's he been through. His blood pressure is stable although still rather low for my liking. His oxygen count is improving. His renal function could be better but I should say if he continues to improve, we could try for the day after tomorrow." Skelton nodded as he studied the second x-ray. "What about the left hand?" Simon asked and then wished he hadn't at the pained look that came over the older man's face.

"I will, of course, do what I can but ..." Skelton's voice tapered away. He huffed as though angry with himself. "What am I saying?" Raymond Skelton looked at the serious young man. "Dr Gallespie … Simon … in all my years as a doctor and a surgeon I have never seen anything like this. And believe me … I have seen a lot, the strange, the bizarre and the unbelievable. But never … never have I seen such … deliberate cruelty. Even with a dozen surgeries I cannot repair the damage that has been done. Believe me, I wish I could. "

In order to regain control of the anger that surged through him, Raymond Skelton turned back to the medical records laid out on the desk in front of him. What kind of person could do this to another human bineg? It didn't bear thinking about. Picking up the thick wedge of paper, he flipped distractedly through the pages and then suddenly turned back again. He looked up at the younger doctor. "There appears to be some medical history missing. "

Simon nodded. "Er yes ... Detective Taylor spent several years in the Marines. We don't have access to his military records."

"A Marine?" Dr Skelton turned back to the x-ray staring at it for several minutes before grabbing one of the MRI print-outs and studying it intently.

"Er … yes Sir."

"No damage above the wrist, perfectly functional nerve endings. Despite the recent injuries he is in generally good health, in fact he appears extremely fit for his age … I wonder?" Dr Raymond Skelton looked up and Simon noticed a glint in the old man's eyes. "I wonder?" he repeated. Then he looked at his watch. "Can I use your phone?"

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'CSI:NY – CSI:NY – CSI:NY – CSI:NY – CSI:NY'

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Adam's fingers flew across the keyboard. As another screen popped up, he ran a finger down the screen before consulting the top-most of a huge pile of print-outs that were scattered across the desk next to him. He pushed his chair with both feet so that the chair scooted across to a second computer where he entered a few commands with a click of the mouse and a few taps of the keyboard. Adam drummed his fingers impatiently on the edge of the table. ""Come on, come on."Another screen popped up. "Yes!" he uttered triumphantly as he leaned back in his chair, his back aching from hours hunched over his keyboard. "Mac Taylor you are a genius." Adam spun round and leapt from the chair only to stop abruptly as Jo and Sheldon stood in the doorway. Adam's joy disappeared in the blink of an eye as he took in their tired and drawn faces. He swallowed heavily. "Is he …?" he stammered.

"In the hospital. Stable." Sheldon wasn't able to say anything else.

"Is it bad?" Adam asked tentatively. Jo and Sheldon looked at one another not knowing where to start. Adam sank slowly back into his chair as their silence spoke louder than words.