Recovery
Diagnosis Murder
Steve Sloan/Mark Sloan
Family/Hurt Comfort
Spoilers: Retribution Parts One and Two
Steve is still in the hospital recuperating from his injuries, now he is coping with both physical and psychological therapies.
Disclaimer: I don't own Diagnosis Murder and the characters. I only own my original characters and ideas.
A/N: This is my first Diagnosis Murder fanfiction story, please go easy on me!
A/N2: Even though this is a dramatic story, I will have chapters or moments of comic relief. Hey, after all, Shakespeare included moments of comic relief in his dramatic/tragic plays!
Warning: This chapter may contain descriptions of bizarre dreams. Reader discretion is advised. Consider yourselves warned! Please don't blame me if you have any weird, bizarre or borderline psychedelic dreams!
Physical Therapy and Tales of Bizarre Dreams
Six Weeks Later
"Come on, Steve!" Rebecca, Steve's über perky physical therapist, shouted. "You can do this! Don't you want to return to your job and help bring criminals to justice?"
Steve panted as he slowly took a step while holding on to the parallel bars for stability. It was his second day of physical therapy and wore him out. He felt that he wasn't making any real progress, but beginning to walk after healing from a major trauma as he experienced was fairly decent progress. He needed to be patient, but with his father still unjustly sitting on death row, patience was just an unaffordable luxury. His spirit was more than willing, but his flesh was still somewhat weak.
"I think I am done for today," Steve grunted. "Carol, I know you are here for moral support and to help Rebecca motivate me, but I feel like a truck ran over me – at least twice."
"You had just started today's session," Carol protested. "Don't you want to get back to being 100 percent? Don't you want to help clear dad of murder?"
"You know I want dad freed from this miscarriage of justice, but I have been on medical leave since I got shot."
"I want that, too, but you need to do this; if not for yourself, then for dad and me! You need to get back your strength and relearn to walk. Dad and I would like for you to be well enough to get out of the hospital and finish your recovery at home."
"This is torture, sis!"
"Steve, I am going to kick your recuperating ass back into gear if you don't listen to your sister or me!" Rebecca snapped.
The Sloan siblings looked at Rebecca stunned. They knew that she was a good physical therapist and a great motivator, if necessary, but the tone was too much. It could be that Rebecca had heard enough excuses from her patients that this one angered her.
"I am sorry," Rebecca said. "I didn't mean to shout like that. I understand that you and your sister are dealing with a family crisis on top of this situation. Steve, would you like to take a breather?"
"I'd like that and you are forgiven," Steve replied.
"I'll bring the wheelchair," Carol added.
The two women helped him slowly on to the wheelchair. When he was settled, he took a deep breath and sat for about ten minutes before deciding that he wanted to continue. His sister and Rebecca helped him slowly up and back to the parallel bars. Once he held on to the bars, his resolve was strengthened. With some effort, he took another three steps before stopping again. Carol looked at her exhausted brother and she felt both pride and frustration.
"Steve, for someone who wanted to quit after taking the first step on his second day of physical therapy," Rebecca said. "You have made fairly decent progress."
"I am not sure that I would call that progress," Steve protested.
"Yesterday, you couldn't take two steps without tiring out," Carol silenced her brother's protest. "If you take a few steps more than yesterday, I'll take it. You need to be proud of your progress."
"Carol, don't get me wrong! I am proud of this accomplishment. I just wish that dad could see it in person and not hear about from you, Amanda or Jesse."
"He would be proud of you regardless."
"As much as I like to hear siblings talk about wishing their unjustly imprisoned father were here," Rebecca intervened. "I need to get Steve on that bench so he could try a few more exercises and give him a massage."
"Oh, I sure could use an excellent massage and a nice long nap! How about after the massage, I sleep on that table?"
"Nice try, Steve, but you are going back to your room. You will take you nap there and later, some counselor will come to talk to you and me about how we are coping with everything that has gone on since you were shot."
Steve stuck out his tongue at his sister and she placed her hands on her hips in authoritative fashion. Instead of retaliating with her tongue out at him, she helped Rebecca gingerly move him to the table. Steve slowly sat and laid down flat on his back. He hugged his chest and abdominal area and groaned as he lowered his torso to the table. He took a deep breath and exhaled as deeply as he could.
"Steve, now I want you to bend your right leg," Rebecca said. "Place your hands near the near and gently pull it towards your chest as far as you can. Do not be stoic about this! I'll tell you when to switch legs. We'll start with one rep with five on each leg. Also, don't forget to breathe."
He did as he was told and grunted when the exercise became too much, but thinking about his dad on death row became his motivating factor. Plus, Carol gave him pep talks whenever he was losing the motivation. When Rebecca noticed Steve was ready for a massage, she and Carol helped roll him on to his stomach. His wounds were still healing, but they didn't hurt as much and he could bear the pain of lying on his abdomen for brief periods of time. When the massage started, he groaned with delight.
Once Steve was back to his hospital room and in bed, he was fast asleep. The massage he received was so relaxing that he just wanted to doze off. Carol sat by her brother's side for a few moments before she got hungry and was on her way to the cafeteria. She remembered Mark telling her about the garden lasagna she should try.
"Steve, I am just going to get a bite to eat," Carol whispered to her napping brother. "The psychotherapist should be here in about an hour and a half."
She softly kissed him in the cheek and left the room. She went the nurse's station and told them that she was going to the cafeteria. She had spoken to Steve's nurse to ask him to keep an eye on her brother and she will return in less than an hour. About twenty minutes after Carol left for the cafeteria, Steve woke up from his nap. He looked all around his room for his sister, but she wasn't around. He remembered she told him something, but he couldn't recall was she said.
"Steve, it's okay," Jesse said as he entered the room. "Carol went to eat something at the cafeteria."
"Did she say when she'll be back?" Steve responded with a question.
"According to your nurse, she'll be back in less than an hour. How are you feeling? A little birdie told me you endured your second day of physical therapy."
"I am still sore, but I made some progress. Rebecca gives some amazing massages. Jesse, get that filthy mind of yours out of that gutter! I am not interested in her in that way."
"My 'filthy' mind wasn't even thinking of that! As a doctor and a friend, I want you to get better. I also want your father, my boss to get out of prison and the person or persons who actually killed Gordon and Spring and tried to kill you to have their asses thrown in that prison."
"I hear you, man!"
There were a few moments of silence between the two men when Carol finally returned to the room. She cleared her throat loud enough for the two men to take notice.
"Hey sis, how was your meal?" Steve asked.
"Dad was right about the garden lasagna," Carol replied. "It is delicious!"
"It was your father that suggested the cafeteria have more choices for patients, staff and visitors," Jesse added.
"That was after your vegetarian ex-girlfriend complained about the lack of options for vegetarians and vegans."
"Steve, she didn't complain, she just made some observations of the variety that the cafeteria was missing. Your dad overheard her and took it to the person in charge of the menu and the changes were implemented."
"Guys, I hate to break up the little tiff over the variety or lack of food choices at the hospital cafeteria, but the psychologist's appointment is soon and I don't want Steve to be stressed out more than he already is."
"I have to make my rounds before the interim Chief of Internal Medicine has my head served on a silver platter to the board. Let me tell you, I like your dad better than this battle ax."
After Jesse left for his rounds, an orderly appeared with a wheelchair and helped Steve from the bed to the wheelchair. The orderly wheeled Steve to the elevator and Carol followed close by. At first, Steve wanted to walk to the psychologist's office, but he realized that the progress he'd made in physical therapy on his second day didn't easily translate to outside. He still had some ways to go.
"Mr. Sloan, I am Dr. Lucci," the woman said as Steve was being wheeled into the office.
"Pleased to meet you," Steve said as he shook hands with the psychologist.
"Dr. Lucci, I am Carol Sloan," Carol said. "I am Steve's sister and Dr. Mark Sloan's daughter."
"Ah, the famous Chief of Internal Medicine is your father. It is a pity that he was railroaded the way he was."
"Dr. Lucci, is this part of the PEAP I am required to do?"
"That would be up to the Chief. Right now, I would like for you to open up about what you have been going through from the time you were shot to today. Carol, you are free to contribute to this session."
Steve looked at the psychologist and wondered if he could tell her about his emotional and physical struggles. He decided cooperating would be best for his recovery. Especially, since he wanted to prove Mark innocent.
"During the time that I was on the operating table and then in a coma," he started. "I was in some bizarre dream world. The pace of the situations around me was either in slow motion or warp speed."
"Can you tell me about some of these dreams?" Dr. Lucci replied with a question of her own.
"I was running in some nondescript environment wearing nothing but a dark gray cotton loincloth. After a few moments, the scenery changes to something very psychedelic. There were palm trees that were walking and talking. Boulders singing out of tune and unintelligibly, that you don't have a clue as to what they're singing about. People are moving around without any idea of their surroundings. Sometimes the pace is slow like a snail, other times, fast as an infamous Tasmanian Devil tornado. Every step I took, I would bump into those people regardless of their pace. They just went about their lives without apologizing. I walked towards a creek with a waterfall, but it didn't have water, but fruit juices. The type changes from apple to orange to cherry to pomegranate. A trail appeared and I followed it to a door that had a sign that shouted 'open me'. At first, I didn't open it, but the demands for to open it was getting progressively louder. I opened it and entered this meadow with the greenest grass and vibrant flowers. There was a woman standing with her back turned to me in silence. For some reason, she was very familiar. Before I could approach her and look at her face, she turned around and revealed herself. It was mom."
"You saw our mother, Katherine Sloan, in your dreams?" Carol asked.
"Yeah, I did! She looked healthy, as if she didn't have cancer. She saw me, but she couldn't believe that I was there. "
"Steve, you were in a coma and your subconscious mind has taken you to its world. Sometimes, it is plain and boring. Other times, it can be psychedelic and bizarre. There are times you see a loved one who had passed away with no idea about the outcome. You can continue with you account to learn of the outcome."
"Mom gave me a smile that exuded warmth and compassion."
The Encounter with Steve and Carol's Mother – Steve's POV
I slowly approached the familiar woman not sure if she was mom or an impostor.
"Mom, is that you or one of those weird psychedelic occurrences that I have passed by?" I asked.
"Steve, it's really me," mom replied.
"Where am I? Why am I wearing this?"
"You are here because you have been shot. I know what you are going ask me: no, you're not dead. You had surgery and were taken to the ICU. I don't know why you're wearing the loincloth."
"Do you know who shot me? I was supposed to be in court the day after to testify against Gordon Ganza."
"I wish I knew who did, kiddo. Had I been there, I would have stopped that punk from doing anything!"
"I hope dad, Amanda and Jesse are getting to the bottom of this!"
"I think Amanda and Jesse are the only ones functioning as normal in this case. Your father hasn't been himself since you were brought into Community General."
"Did dad operate on me?"
"No, Jesse did."
"Dad let him cut me, remove bullets, stitch up my damaged organs and sewn me up."
"I wouldn't put it that way, but he did. I know that you wanted your father to treat you, but he was too distracted to help. Jesse was the next best thing and as an intern, he needs the experience."
"Am I going to wake up from this?"
"Steve, it's not a matter of if, but when. You are strong and tough. You will make a complete recovery! It will be a long road, but you will get better and stronger than before. Will you remember that, if not for yourself, but for Carol, your father, Jesse and me?"
"I will, Mom! I always will! I love you!"
"I love you, too, kiddo!"
End of the Encounter
When Steve finished his account, he was sobbing, which was rare for him. Not only was he crying, but Carol was in tears. She got off the couch and approached him and gingerly hugged him and he held her. As soon as they released each other, Dr. Lucci passed to them a box of tissues to wipe their tears and noses.
"I am sorry for the waterworks," Steve said as he calmed down.
"Steve, it's okay to get emotional," Dr. Lucci responded with assurances. "It happens and it's normal."
"Even guys cry and it doesn't make them less than men," Carol said.
"Thanks, just don't tell Chief Masters or anyone else in LAPD. I don't think they will let me live this one down!"
Steve's last statement earned him laughter from his sister and the therapist. He looked at them as if they were aliens from some extra-terrestrial planet.
"Steve, you are only human," Dr. Lucci said. "Now, I would like for you to talk about how you feel about your father sitting on death row for crimes he didn't commit. Carol, feel free to talk about it."
"I woke up from my coma as Sergeant Archer arrested dad for murder," Steve replied with a subtle angry edge in his voice. "I didn't see dad until Jesse and Amanda agreed to spring me out of the hospital to the courthouse so I could hear the verdict and sentence. I was livid that he was found guilty and sentence to death. However, I was powerless to do anything about it being that I couldn't walk and had pain medication in my system."
"Our dad would never hurt anyone," Carol added. "Let alone kill an innocent woman who was trying to help him and Steve. I don't know about the man that died from binary poisoning, but I believe that he had something to do with my brother's shooting. Yet, I don't believe daddy would kill him. Ruffle his feathers, maybe, but commit homicide, no way."
"He was convicted on fabricated and planted evidence! They took advantage of an exhausted man whose son was fighting for his life to wash their hands of their crime. I hope those actually responsible for killing Ganza and Spring and framed our father get what's coming to them. I don't want them killed before they face justice. It would be up to a jury to determine the punishment of life in prison or the death penalty."
There was a sudden silence that filled the office that lasted a whole minute. Steve and Carol were staring at each other not knowing what else to say about their father's unjust incarceration. The Sloan siblings wondered what else was bothering them besides the terrible situation that someone brought upon them.
"This concludes our session," Dr. Lucci announced. "How about we meet again same time next week? I will give you my business card which has my pager number as well as a 24 hour emergency number. Call me if you need to reschedule or need to talk."
"Dr. Lucci, do you ever sleep?" Carol asked.
"Carol, just because I have a 24 hour number doesn't mean that I don't sleep."
Prior to leaving Dr. Lucci's office, Steve and Carol exchanged final pleasant with the therapist and handshakes. An orderly was called to bring Steve back to his room. Carol had to make a phone call so she joined her brother a few moments later. Steve was already in his bed watching a classic sitcom. He immediately turned off the television when his sister entered the room.
"Steve, I want to know that I am proud of you," Carol said as she sat by Steve's side.
"Thank you!" he answered. "I'd like to apologize for crying like that. I guess I missed mom."
"Don't apologize for that! I miss her, too. I am also angry at what's happening to daddy."
"I hope justice prevails, too. Carol, there was something in my dream state that I wanted to tell you that I couldn't tell Dr. Lucci."
"Don't tell me that you saw Bruce!"
"Unfortunately, he was there, but he wasn't with mom. He was one of the people who had no clue where they were going. He didn't say anything, but I wanted to punch him so hard and tell him 'this is for Carol, you moron.' This was for your ears only."
"Thank you! Is there anything I can do for you now?"
"Stay with me for about an hour."
Carol nodded and stayed with Steve. They talked about other things and made each other laugh. After the afternoon they had, they needed a little laughter. The nurse on duty came to tell Carol that visit hours ended for the day. She left the room, but not before she told Steve that she planned to visit their dad in the prison. They exchanged their good nights and the 'see you tomorrows'.
TBC
Post-Chapter A/N: I am sorry for taking long to write the chapter. I had writer's block which is frustrating. A BILLION APOLOGIES!
