Chapter 22
It was the tiniest ray of white light. But it was enough.
Ana let the single moonbeam dance across her fingers. She couldn't resist giving in to the lightness she was feeling. The hope.
Soon my love. Soon.
Her captivity would end soon. She would be with Christian. Soon.
"I don't understand what has gotten into you! Did you and Ana have a fight? What is this all about?"
Carrick Grey was tired. Tired of the same argument, tired of the same explanation, tired of trying to stay calm and most of all, tired of hiding from the truth. His son was losing his mind. He wanted to shout, to grab hold of Christian and shake him out of this stupor, out of his madness, out of these delusions that Christian had been going through. He wanted to do something. Anything. Anything, instead of what he was currently doing.
"I keep telling you, that woman is not Ana"
"Yes, you do, Christian. And I keep telling you that's not possible. We checked everything. Welch checked the reports from the hospital, blood types, we even checked the DNA from the hairbrush that was in your bedroom. It is Ana!"
"I don't care! I don't care what you found, or what the reports say or whatever the fuck you think you tested. That woman is not Ana. And I am going to prove it. I don't know how.. but I will!"
"And what about Phoebe and Ted?"
Christian's hand hovered over the doorknob. He had crossed the entire length of the room in his rage, blinded by his desire to find the truth.
"I can't..."
"Christian, please. They don't understand what's happening."
"I'm sorry. Please, just... take care of them."
The door opened and shut, and before Carrick could get out another word, Christian was gone. He stared at the lines on the dark wooden door that had just been unceremoniously slammed in his face. This was not going to be easy.
Ana and Jason made their way towards the stream, as Ana counted the steps. Tanto was guarding them alone that night, his usual co-conspirator being away for the week. Banking on his general disgust of all things feminine, Ana had used some blood soaked rags to present the illusion of an unexpected period.
Tanto's loathsome nature did not disappoint.
He had come into the room to fetch Ana, and hearing her groaning, had cautiously approached. Distracted by the sounds she made he never realised that Ana had shifted her position as close to the apparently unconscious Jason as her chain allowed. The newly hopeful and slightly recovered ex military man had managed to grab their tormentor in a fierce choke hold. It was the longest 10 seconds in history, but Jason bore down with all his might until he could feel the life leave his tormentors body. The stench of bowels releasing. It was done.
"Hurry up... we need to get out of here..." Jason pulled on her hand as Ana lingered in the hallway of her erstwhile prison. They had unlocked their chains using the keys on Tanto's belt.
"Jason! Wait... We need to find his phone!"
He looked at her, and at the still figure lying on the ground.
"Ugh! Fuck!"
He held his breath and reached into the trouser pockets. Nothing. He would have to turn Tanto over.
Muttering a string of expletives to himself, Jason Taylor used all his remaining strength to push the body over. The jacket pocket yielded. Another bunch of keys and a wallet. And a cracked phone.
"Dammit!"
Christian Grey stepped out of his car in the basement of Welch's office. He needed to know for himself. Carrick had said they had tested DNA, but that wasn't possible. There was no way this woman was Ana. No fucking way.
He took the steps two at a time to the first floor. Welch had been waiting for him.
"I got copies of all the reports from the hospital in Churchill and samples of DNA from the hairbrush. It all lines up Mr Grey. I really don't know what to tell you."
"Show me the reports."
He handed the manila folder across the desk to Christian, watching as the man began to read through the reports.
"No," he muttered, "no, that's not possible."
Everything in the report from Churchill lined up, the blood reports, her treatments, everything. Could it be real? Could he have been hallucinating? But the story of Tseh Nio, the elevator, the paperwork for fuck's sake. She would never forget that.
Christian flung the papers on the floor out of frustration. This was going nowhere.
"Sir, if I may suggest, perhaps the issue with Mrs Grey's memories you have observed are an impact of her accident?"
"That doesn't make sense Welch, if that were the case she wouldn't remember anything."
"Not necessarily. It could just be partial damage, or something else."
"No! I refuse to accept that. THAT IS NOT POSSIBLE."
Welch reached out a hand to his employer, this was the second time in as many months that he had seen this man so vulnerable. He needed help.
"I'll keep looking Sir. In the meantime, I've reached out to Dr Flynn, I suggest you rest for a while until he arrives."
He watched as the man leaned slowly back on the leather armchair. Welch had known Christian Grey, for many years. He had known the man to be confident, self assured, always in control. Even when they had first heard of Ana's supposed passing, broken as Christian had been, there was never a shred of doubt lurking in those gray eyes.
Until now.
"I counted 12 steps then a turn, then a bush and that's where the water was. It's got to be somewhere here."
"OK, let's retrace then. We left the house, then took 12 steps north, northeast and then took a turn westwards and now here we are, with no river in sight"
"I don't know Jason, I really don't. Look, ok.. hang on" Ana closed her eyes and tried to listen. Christian's skills at work, she smirked to herself.
She took a deep breath and tried to tune in on the sounds she could hear. She could hear the faint buzzing of insects in the forest. Had she heard those earlier? No... Think Steele!
The sounds of the forest at night are like a symphony. If you stay quiet enough, still enough, you realise that the forest isn't quiet at all. It teems with life that affirms and reaffirms itself all the time. With creatures that gnaw and gnarl at the darkness that threatens their very existence, shrouding them in its black emptiness that they may no longer be seen. No longer be acknowledged. The wild kingdom of the forest comes alive at night, and this was the orchestra that Ana could finally hear in the silence. Being there, despite these strange circumstances, brought back memories of her fishing trips with Ray. Tucked away in the serenity of the vast wilderness, the forest had once engulfed them too. Memories interlaced with reality as Ana allowed her mind to be swept away by the sounds, until finally she could hear the steady thump, thump, thump she had heard the other day. It was close.
"That way," she pointed, vaguely in the direction of the sound. If they got close to the stream maybe they could track alongside till they found the pier.
If we found it...
"My best guess, paranoid personality disorder. But I won't be able to confirm until we can actually get him into the hospital and have him undergo a full diagnosis."
Dr. Flynn reached for the manila folder, casually flicking through the papers that had been carefully and neatly rearranged. It had taken him over an hour to talk Christian down from his increasingly frenzied state. And even then he'd had to resort to his most hated method. Sedatives. His patient was getting increasingly worrisome. Despite all his instincts to the contrary, John had come to care for the man. Yet, even in the best of times Christian's behavior could be erratic, and since the news about Ana's death, his paranoia had only been unbounded. There had been a slight improvement once news of Ana's miraculous save had come about, although now it looked like that temporary recovery had just led to a more pronounced psychotic break. It had finally resulted in delusions, hallucinations and complete dissociation with reality. A point, from where there could be no going back. He would have to recommend institutionalisation.
He picked up his cellphone and hit speed dial 4. It had to be done.
The ambulance service confirmed, he made a quick mental note on what Christian would need. Assuming the pickup arrived within the hour, they could check him into Cascade within the next two hours. Flynn would have to accompany obviously and he would need a family member to attest to his condition as well. Under the circumstances he thought Carrick would be the best bet. He scrolled through his contacts till he found the right number and placed the call.
"This is Carrick Grey"
"Hi, Mr. Grey. This is Dr. John Flynn, I'm Christian's therapist."
"Yes, of course. Is everything alright?"
"I'm afraid not Mr. Grey. You see, I'm with Christian now, at Welch's office, and I'm afraid his paranoia has become worse. He seems fixated on the whole 'Ana's not Ana' fantasy and... well there's no easy way to say this I suppose, but we will need to check him into the institute for focused therapy. I'm really sorry, but I don't see any other way."
There was a long pause on the line, followed by the sound of a throat being cleared.
"I understand. Please text me the address and I'll be there."
On the other side of the now dead phone line, a voice that had made many a judge tremble under the words it bore, that had held its own with senators and presidents alike, that strong, unfailing, unshakeable voice, broke. The sobs of a father losing his son and everything he had held dear echoed through the cold empty night.