A/N: Only one chapter tonight, but it's a long one...
CHAPTER 9 – MEMORIES AND THINGS FORGOTTEN
FEBRUARY 9, 1998, MONDAY - MARJORIE THORNSBERG'S MANSION
Danny sat next to his brother in the attic of the Thornsberg mansion, holding Jamie tightly against his side with one arm. The other held his cell phone in front of Jamie, allowing them to talk to the family back in Bay Ridge. A quiet tapping on the doorframe pulled his attention away from the conversation. Detective Halsey stood at the door, obviously eager to talk to Jamie. As soon as Erin finished her greeting, he quickly ended the phone call with a promise to call the family back when he knew which hospital they'd be taking Jamie to.
Detective Halsey ambled over to where Danny was sitting with Jamie on the bed. He squatted down in front of the two. "Jamie, I need to ask you some questions about what happened here. If you want Danny to stay, that's okay, but if you want him to leave, I'm sure he'll understand."
Danny sucked in a sharp breath, knowing what was coming. He didn't want to stay. He really didn't want to stay. Didn't want to listen to Jamie recount whatever had happened to him over the past week. He started to stand up, but stopped when Jamie grabbed onto his arm.
"Danny, don't leave me alone," Jamie almost begged, his eyes wide with fear.
He sat back down on the bed as he realized what he wanted wasn't important right now. This looked to be one of those 'big-brother' jobs he got drafted into when his parents decided to present him with a baby brother. "Okay, kid, I'm not going anywhere."
Halsey looked down at Jamie's splinted ankle. "Can you tell me what happened to your ankle?" Halsey asked what should have been an easy question.
Jamie looked down at the injured limb. "I tripped and fell. On the stairs. I think."
Halsey looked up at Danny with a puzzled frown. Danny frowned back, worried at Jamie's vagueness about the injury. "Jamie, can you give us some more details? Which stairs? When? How?" Danny prompted.
Jamie stared down at his ankle. "Think it was the day before yesterday."
Saturday! Danny felt anger growing in his chest. His baby brother had been injured, in pain, alone, for all that time. Why had it taken them so long to find him?
"There's nothing more you can tell us?" Halsey asked. "What were you doing on the stairs?"
Jamie shrugged his shoulders. "Don't remember."
"Okay, Jamie, other than your ankle, are you hurt anywhere else?" Halsey asked. "Any bumps to the noggin? Cracked up ribs? Internal injuries?"
Jamie shook his head. "Got some bruises from when I fell." He held out his arm, pushing the sleeve of his shirt up to show the edge of a bruise that had developed in harsh shades of purple, red and yellow. "And she zapped me with that Taser, back when she first brought me here and the next day, when I tried to run. But that's all."
"You tried to escape?" Danny asked.
"Uh-huh. The second day. She opened the door to deliver food – a sandwich and a soda – and I tried to run out. But she had the Taser ready and zapped me. I didn't even make it out of the room."
So, that's not when you fell down the stairs. So when was it? What the hell happened? Danny wondered. "Where did she Taze you, Jamie?"
Jamie put his hand on the right side of his ribcage. "Over here."
"Okay. We'll need to get some pictures of those injuries later," Halsey said neutrally. "Jamie, did Ms. Thornsberg ever hit you or slap you?"
"Once she'd locked me in this room, she mostly ignored me. I only saw her when she brought the food up most afternoons."
"Jamie, can you answer the question? Did she hit you? Did someone else hit you?" Halsey pushed.
Jamie stared silently at his feet. "Don't remember," he finally replied.
The detective gestured toward the right side of Jamie's face where a purple bruise spread across his cheekbone and swept up toward his temple. "How'd you get that bruise? It looks like someone smacked you one," he commented.
Jamie reached up to touch the bruise like he hadn't realized it was there. He shrugged his shoulders. "When I fell on the stairs?"
Danny gently turned Jamie's head to get a closer look at the roughly hand-shaped bruise. "I don't think so, Jamie, it looks more like someone slapped you."
Jamie looked up at Danny, confusion written in his eyes. "Maybe I did hit my head? I can't remember."
"That's okay, Jamie. We'll have the paramedics check you over when they get here." Halsey said. "Okay, Jamie. Did Ms. Thornsberg or anyone else touch you in a sexual manner?"
Danny forced himself to keep breathing normally, trying not to react to that emotionally charged question. God in heaven, he didn't want to know the answer. Unless it was an unequivocal "no."
Jamie shuddered. "She was the only one here, and she didn't touch me at all. She basically ignored me. I already told you that."
Danny felt his heart sink. That wasn't the firm 'no' he was hoping for, given that sometime in the past few days, someone had not ignored Jamie long enough to leave that bruise on the side of his face. God, no, please, he prayed silently.
"Jamie, just as a heads up, the hospital is going to insist on doing an examination to verify that. It's standard procedure."
"I don't want to go to the hospital," Jamie muttered sullenly.
Danny squeezed his brother's shoulder. "Kiddo, I'm all for staying out of hospitals, but there's no way to avoid that place. It's policy, plus that ankle looks bad. You need to get it checked out. And I'll be right there with you. I promise."
It was at that moment that the paramedics had arrived and any further questions had to be put off while the medics did a quick examination and stabilized Jamie's ankle for transport to the hospital.
As the medics were examining Jamie, Halsey pulled Danny aside. "Your brother's not telling us something about that fall on the stairs. It sound like he was on his way out of this place, and he turned around and climbed back upstairs on an injured leg?"
"I know. I know." Danny said. "It doesn't make sense."
"And that bruise. Sure looks like someone slapped him," Halsey added. "Makes me wonder what else he's not telling."
Danny nodded. "Yeah," he reluctantly agreed.
"See if you can get him talking. I'll be by the hospital later."
"I'll see what I can do," Danny said. He moved to his brother's side as he heard the paramedics debating how to get Jamie down the narrow flight of stairs to the third floor. Apparently, they were concerned about getting any stretcher around the tight ninety-degree turn at the bottom of the attic stairs. He listened to their discussion for a minute; watched his brother's eyes dart between one paramedic and the other; watched Jamie's white-knuckled grip on the edge of the mattress get even tighter. The kid probably thinks he's going to be trapped up here forever. Finally he'd had enough. He knelt down in front of his brother. "Kid, you ready to blow this joint?" he whispered.
Jamie looked up at him and nodded.
"Then hold on." Danny quickly tossed his brother over his shoulder in a fireman's carry and stood up. It was too easy. Almost a week without enough food had burned too many pounds off Jamie's already skinny body.
"Hey, what are you doing? Put him down!" one of the medics objected.
Danny ignored the medics' protests and carried Jamie across the attic and down the stairs to the third floor. "Guys, do you have a stretcher that would work from here, or should I keep hauling my brother downstairs?" Danny spun around and yelled up to the medics.
"Hey!" Jamie yelped. "Danny, put me down before you drop me!"
"Not until I know those two doofus medics have their act together," he told Jamie. "And when have I ever dropped you?"
"When I was almost four! You dropped me on the driveway getting me out of the car."
"Oh, that." Of course Jamie would remember the one time he'd wiggled out of his big brother's grip and landed hard on his knees on the asphalt. Jamie had sat there silently for a few seconds, his eyes wide, his mouth a perfect little "O". And then he'd started screaming. Not crying, like a normal toddler would do, but a flat-out, ear-piercing shriek of outrage at Danny's negligence. Then he'd gotten to his feet and stumbled over to Joe, and only then had the lower lip started quivering and the tears flowing. "Well, I was a clumsy teenager, and you were a squirmy little brat," Danny explained. "I grew out of the clumsiness."
"Danny!" Jamie protested again as he picked up on the subtle insult.
The first of the paramedics arrived at the third floor. "Officer, we'll get it from here. We can use our gurney from this point."
Danny nodded. He deposited his brother on the paramedic's gurney, then stayed by Jamie's side as they began strapping him down, overruling Jamie's strenuous objections to being restrained with a reassurance that he'd be right by his side, ready to shoot anyone who did anything that didn't look like taking them to a hospital. He'd stayed by Jamie's side through the ambulance trip to St. Michael's ER. But he hadn't been able to get much more out of Jamie. He'd been able to figure out that it wasn't just one incident Jamie couldn't remember; it was some period of time. But most of his questions had been met with blank stares and a mumbled replies of "don't remember".
OCTOBER 11, 2012, THURSDAY EARLY AM
As Danny felt his brother shift restively in his sleep beside him, he wished Jamie would remember. Maybe that would finally put an end to the nightmares. He thought back over the events of that afternoon fifteen years earlier, trying to figure out if there was some clue he and Detective Halsey may have missed that would give them some idea what happened that Jamie had forgotten. There had to be something they'd overlooked. He'd spent the better part of that Monday afternoon glued to Jamie's side. Surely, Jamie had said something that would give them a clue as to what happened... Danny glanced down at his sleeping brother, remembering their stay in the ER.
FEBRUARY 9, 1998, MONDAY – ST. MICHAEL'S HOSPITAL
Danny strode alongside the paramedics rolling Jamie's gurney into the ER. A middle-aged Hispanic nurse met them. "Hi, Jamie, I'm Sonya. I'll be taking care of you while you're here," she greeted Jamie, while ignoring him.
Jamie didn't release his grip on Danny's arm as he quickly glanced at the nurse and muttered a short 'Hi'. They'd pulled into Room 5 and the next few minutes were occupied with getting Jamie transferred from gurney to bed. As soon as Jamie was settled, she'd turned to him. "Officer, if you want to wait outside, I'll let you know when we're finished examining him and you can come talk to him then."
"Danny, no! Don't leave me!" Jamie bolted upright in the bed, his heart rate and breathing speeding up dramatically. He grabbed hold of his brother's arm.
Danny gently pushed his brother back down against the bed. "It's okay, kid, I'm not going anywhere. Relax."
"Officer, we need you to leave. Only family is allowed to stay with the patient," Sonya insisted.
Danny looked up at her, anger smoldering in his eyes. "I am family." He pointed at the nameplate on his uniform. "Daniel Reagan. Your patient's brother."
Sonya didn't back down. She looked at his nameplate, studied it as if he was making up his relationship with Jamie. Finally, she relented. "Okay, Officer Reagan, you can stay for now. But if your brother or the doctor wants you to leave, you'll have to step outside."
Danny nodded. "Fine." He thought about apologizing, but couldn't make himself do it, not after she'd got Jamie worked up again. He looked down at his baby brother, who had laid back against the bed, eyes tightly closed, one hand tightly gripping his wrist, struggling to get his breathing back under control. "Relax, kid. I'm staying right here."
Jamie nodded, and his grip on his brother's wrist loosened slightly.
"Since you're here, can you help me get him changed into one of our lovely gowns?" Sonya asked.
"I can change myself," Jamie protested.
Sonya dropped a hospital gown on the bed. "Of course you can. But I'll have to cut these jeans off. There's no way they're getting over your ankle."
Jamie blushed. "Couldn't Danny do that instead?"
"He could. But I bet I'd be more careful. Your brother looks like the type who used to run with scissors," she teased.
At Danny's protesting sputter, Jamie managed to smile. "He did. Or so my other brother says."
"Tell you what, you get out of that shirt and we'll put the gown on you first before we worry about the jeans. Preserve as much of your dignity as we can, okay?" She picked up the folded gown and shook it out.
"Okay." Jamie agreed as he started working on removing his shirt.
"Officer, there's a box of bags on the wall behind you. Grab one for your brother's belongings," the nurse requested.
So I can collect the evidence, Danny thought silently. Every scrap of clothing on him is evidence. Got to preserve the chain of custody. Right then, he'd wished he was just Jamie's brother and not a cop, so he wouldn't know exactly what the evidence techs would be looking for. Evidence of any beating they gave him, evidence of any drugging, evidence of any sexual assault. God, no, he prayed again. He grabbed a bag and forced a small smile onto his face before turning back to his brother. "Okay kiddo, out of those stinky clothes. Dump 'em right in here."
Jamie shrugged out of the flannel shirt and peeled off the long sleeved tee, dropping both items into the bag. He reached for the hospital gown, but Nurse Sonya intervened.
"Let me do a quick check for injuries before you gown up, okay, Jamie?" Without waiting for him to agree, she'd checked his upper body, both front and back, and made note of the Taser marks on his upper back and abdomen, and of the bruises on his sides, back and arms. "Fell down some stairs?" she asked.
Jamie shrugged noncommittally.
"What makes you say that?" Danny asked sharply.
"The pattern of bruises is pretty typical for someone who took the express trip downstairs. We see it in a lot of domestic violence cases," she explained. "Okay, all done."
Jamie grabbed the hospital gown, quickly slipping it around his shivering frame. "It's cold in here," he complained.
"No, it's just that well-ventilated dress you're wearing," Danny teased while he tied the gown behind Jamie's back.
"And unfortunately, it's about to get better ventilated," Sonya returned with a pair of sturdy scissors. "Let's get you out of those jeans, then I'll grab a warmed blanket for you," Sonya continued. She carefully removed both the paramedics' cardboard splint and Jamie's newspaper splint, causing him to hiss in pain. "Sorry about that. I'll try not to jostle your leg anymore."
Danny watched as she carefully sliced through the sturdy denim, allowing him to see just how badly his brother's ankle had been damaged. "Jesus, kid, you really did a job on your leg, didn't you?"
"Probably broke a bone, from the looks of it. Wouldn't be surprised if he needs surgery to set it," Sonya commented as she worked on cutting Jamie's jeans.
"Hey! What're you doing?" Jamie suddenly protested. "You didn't say anything about taking my undershorts!"
"Kid, you really want to keep those? I wasn't going to say anything, but they smell kind of ripe." Danny pinched his nose closed.
"Well, it's not my fault. It's not like I've been able to shower for almost a week," Jamie huffed.
"Okay. Off with the pants," Sonya ordered as she finished cutting through the clothing. "And don't worry; I've got a nurse rounding up some clean undies for you." She smiled at Jamie and Danny. "One of our interns is going to learn a valuable lesson about securing his locker."
"Nurse, are you admitting to petty theft?" Danny teased while he helped Jamie finish undressing.
"We prefer to think of it as "donating after the fact." Sonya retorted. She made note of the mostly-healed Taser burn and the various bruises on Jamie's legs. "Looks like you fell up the stairs, too," she commented.
Danny looked at his brother. Jamie hadn't mentioned that. But his brother refused to meet his gaze, and his only response was a small shrug of his shoulders. Before he could follow up on that matter, Sonya was busy with her preliminary examination: checking vitals, getting an IV started, grabbing the promised blanket. Then almost as soon as she finished, the doctor had arrived, and even before he had finished his examination, Detective Halsey, accompanied by a photographer, was waiting to see his Jamie.
And all he could do was stand by his brother's side and keep watch over him. Keep one hand on his shoulder, or his arm, or the top of his head, or his undamaged right leg, whatever part of his body the doctor wasn't busy examining, giving Jamie some connection to safety, normalcy. At least, that's what he'd done until the police photographer had banished him to the wall. Didn't need him in the pictures, she'd said. Just a few steps away from Jamie, but Danny could see how the lack of physical contact was sending his brother's mental state into a downward spiral.
"Tell me again how you got this bruise on your lower back?" Danny heard the police photographer ask.
"Fell… down… the… stairs," Jamie snapped out each word. He tightened his grip on the edge of the hospital bed.
"We're almost done. Just a few more shots," the photographer commented as she arranged the hospital gown to get a better view.
"Fine."
The waver in Jamie's whisper caught Danny's attention, and he took a close look at his brother. He recognized the expression on Jamie's face; he'd seen it far too many times on crime victims in his few years on the force. Humiliation. Already feeling vulnerable from whatever crime they'd been the victim of, they then had endure intrusive medical examinations, then have their vulnerability documented for public display. And to make matters worse, Jamie was at that awkward beanpole stage of development. He'd hit his growth spurt, grown up and leaned out, but hadn't yet filled out his new frame. Danny remembered how self-conscious he'd been at that time, until sports and the "see-food" diet had put some meat on his bones. He'd hated anyone taking photos of his scrawny body; would have hated it even more if it the photographer was a total stranger and the photos would be seen outside of the family. Danny watched Jamie's shoulders heave with rapid breaths, watched Jamie blink his downcast eyes rapidly and suck in on his lower lip, probably to stop it from trembling, and he knew he had to intervene.
"No, you're done now." Danny stepped over to the bed and pulled Jamie's head to his shoulder. He tried to contain his anger at Marjorie Thornsberg. Jamie didn't need 'angry big brother' right now; he needed 'overly protective big brother', and that's who he was going to get. "Hang on," he whispered in Jamie's ear.
Nurse Sonya frowned at him, as did the photographer and Detective Halsey.
"Officer Reagan, we need to interview your brother," Halsey protested.
"You can do it later."
Sonya looked at Danny again, then moved to the vital signs monitor and frowned at the readouts. "Detective, I'm going to agree with Officer Reagan. You're done for right now."
Halsey shot another look at Danny, then nodded to the nurse and led the photographer out of Jamie's room.
Danny looked up at Sonya. "What's wrong?" He hadn't thought anything was physically wrong with Jamie; he'd just wanted to give his kid brother a break and a safe shoulder to cry on.
"Nothing." Sonya looked up at him with a small sympathetic smile. "But it got rid of them."
Danny smiled back. "Remind me to stay on your good side."
"Do you need help getting your brother settled in the bed?" Sonya asked.
Danny felt Jamie shake his head 'no' against his shoulder. "I've got it," he told Sonya, and she stepped out of the room with a warning to be careful of Jamie's ankle.
He re-tied Jamie's hospital gown around his back before he pulled him into a gentle hug. "It's okay," he reassured his brother as he felt Jamie's uneven breaths turn to body-shaking sobs. "After the week you've had… Just let it out. I won't tell," he whispered. He kept his arms wrapped around his brother, muffling Jamie's sobs against his shoulder until they subsided and his ragged breathing began to even out. He rubbed Jamie's back, feeling too many bones. "Hey, kid, as soon as we can, Joe and I are going to start taking you to the gym with us. Build some muscles on you. By the time your case gets to trial, the jury's going to be wondering what happened to that skinny little boy they see in those photos. And all the female jurors will be swooning over the hot young stud sitting at the prosecutor's table."
Danny felt Jamie snicker quietly against his shoulder. "I mean it. Joe and I will get you in shape, we'll get you a decent haircut, and you'll be the hottest Reagan man in the courtroom. Unless I'm there, of course."
Jamie snorted. "Of course." He pushed against Danny's hug.
Danny gently sat his brother back up. "You doing okay, kid?"
Jamie nodded, trying to hide the evidence of the tears by not looking up at Danny.
Danny chose not to mention that Jamie had thoroughly dampened the shoulder of his uniform shirt. "Why don't you lay back and rest," Danny suggested as he eased Jamie down onto the bed. He carefully lifted his brother's damaged leg onto the bed, but not carefully enough, to judge from Jamie's pained whimper.
"Sorry," Danny apologized as he pulled the blanket up into Jamie's reach. He looked into his brother's exhausted eyes, which were almost brimming with tears again. That ankle must really be hurting him. "Kid, you should try to sleep for a while. I'll wake you up when the family arrives or if they're ever ready to move you to x-ray."
Jamie shook his head. "Can't. What if she finds me here?"
"Not going to happen," Danny insisted. He knew Jamie wasn't thinking clearly; between the adrenaline crash and the parade of doctors, detectives and photographers, Jamie was at the end of his emotional rope and needed sleep to give his brain a chance to recover. "Scoot over," he demanded as he perched on the bed beside his brother.
"Danny, what?" Jamie protested.
"Hush." Danny wrapped his left arm behind his brother's shoulders. "Close your eyes. Nobody's getting near you without coming through me first."
"You sure?"
Danny drew Jamie closer, holding his brother's head securely against his shoulder. "I've got you on this side, and my gun on the other. Nobody is getting to you, kid. Okay?"
"Okay," Jamie replied warily.
"Now close your eyes and go to sleep," Danny ordered. He watched as Jamie forced his eyes closed. "There, that's the way," he told Jamie. He gently rubbed the bridge of his brother's nose. That trick had always sent his baby brother right to sleep when he was a toddler. To Danny's relief, it appeared to still work. Within a few minutes, he felt the tight muscles in his brother's back relaxing; felt his breathing slow as Jamie finally gave in to the exhaustion and let sleep claim him.
Afraid of waking his brother, Danny hadn't moved for almost half an hour, until a nurse – the cute blond he knew he'd seen before; Linda, he thought he'd heard Sonya call her – had arrived with his family in tow. He'd gently wakened Jamie, just in time for both of them to be swamped by parents and siblings. Then, only minutes later, Sonya had returned to tell them x-ray was finally ready for Jamie. As the nurses wheeled Jamie's bed out of the room, Danny saw his father gesturing for him to stay behind.
"Detective Halsey says you and the nurse chased him out of the room earlier, before he'd finished questioning Jamie," Frank stated.
Danny felt himself getting defensive. "Jamie had had all he could take."
"Which is why I was about to say 'good job, son,'" Frank cut in. He gripped his son's shoulders. "You made protecting your brother your first priority, and that's what I needed you to do."
"Is that Jamie's father or Chief Reagan talking?" Danny asked, trying not to smirk.
Frank let himself smile a little. "Some of both. Halsey's the man you want looking for you if you're missing, but he sometimes forgets that once he's found his victim, they might not be up for questioning right away."
"Detective have anything else to say?"
Frank hesitated for a moment. "Halsey tried to talk to Ms. Thornsberg, but she's invoking her right to remain silent. The only question she answered was to deny she'd touched Jamie inappropriately, to use her word. Says she's 'a grieving mother, not some kind of pervert.' I think you know what she meant."
"Yeah," Danny agreed.
"Halsey and I also talked to Jamie's doctor. Jamie's injuries are largely consistent with what he told you and Halsey: a fall on stairs and the Taser use. No evidence of systematic beatings, no evidence of sexual assault," he finished quickly.
Danny ran his hands over his face. "That fits with what Jamie told me. But, Dad, there's a block of time he's forgotten – hours, maybe a day. He thinks he tripped down some stairs and injured his ankle during that time, but he can't remember when, what stairs, why he was on them, how he got back to the attic, how his face got bruised, nothing."
Frank nodded, already wondering what had happened. "I see."
"But I can tell you exactly what day he injured his ankle," Danny snapped out, his anger at the whole situation spilling over. "Two damn days ago. That's how long he sat in her damn attic with a broken ankle, while Halsey and I wasted time running around the city."
"You sound sure about that," Frank commented.
Danny opened the plastic bag holding Jamie's clothing. "He used this and his belt to splint his ankle," he said, holding out the newspaper to his father.
"'Police Chief to Kidnapped Son: We Will Bring You Home,'" Frank read the headline. "This was published two days ago; the morning after the Commissioner's press conference. The one I tried to avoid attending. The media vultures asked me if I had a message for Jamie…"
"'We Will Bring You Home,'" Danny read off the crumpled paper before shoving it back into the bag. "Well, it looks like Jamie got the message. Got it, and strapped it around his ankle so it wouldn't hurt so much for the two more damn days it took us to find him."
Frank gripped his son's shoulder. "Son, however long it took, you fulfilled my promise to him. You brought him home."
"Not quite home, and not in time," Danny interrupted bitterly. "Who knows what she did to him."
"Danny, don't imagine the worst. I know none of this has been easy, but Jamie is going to be fine, thanks to you," Frank tried to reassure his oldest son. "Because you did my job as his father when I wasn't there. Whatever happened, you made your brother feel safe."
-BB-BB-BB-
Danny looked down at his brother, still wondering just what had happened fifteen years ago to wipe those missing hours from his mind. Obviously, something had mentally traumatized his baby brother, even if the physical evidence didn't suggest any severe abuse. And all Jamie claimed to remember was a long week of boredom. "She basically ignored me, except to bring food once a day," he'd insisted whenever anyone – Detective Halsey, the psychiatrist, family members – had asked. "She'd bring food and the newspaper, and she'd make me sign the newspaper and then she'd leave. Other than that, I just stayed locked in that room until Danny and the detective arrived." He swore that's all he remembered: being bored for days. And, if pressed, a vague recollection of falling down the stairs. "Kiddo, we've got to figure out what you brain is hiding from you," Danny whispered to his sleeping brother.