Part 16- Acceptance and Denial
Steele stepped out of the car and headed for the office. He had left Dobbs two hours ago when their latest lead had petered out and, frustrated with the situation, they had both decided to call it a day. He had been back to his apartment and tried to relax for a while before deciding to go through the files again at the office. There must be some clue as to where Sloan and the woman could have gone or to where the missing disc was.
He was surprised to find that he was not alone when he entered the office. Dobbs was already there tapping away at his computer keyboard when Steele walked in.
"I thought you said you were going home?" Steele said, causing Dobbs to jump slightly before he turned round.
"So did you." The older man countered.
"Yeah, well I guess this case is just getting to me. Let's face it it's not doing a lot for either of our reputations." He moved to sit down at his desk. "The chief suspect's dead, along with the civilian we recruited to help, the data's missing and we're getting exactly nowhere." He scowled. "I bet our Ms. Harris is just loving every minute of this."
"Which is why I'm here trying to get a lead on this thing." Dobbs replied, regarding his partner.
"I thought I'd access the police records, see if there are any clues there."
"Find anything?"
"No," Dobbs' tone was somewhat dejected, "there are some interesting anecdotes on Sloan's record but nothing to indicate how he might be involved."
"So where do we go from here?" Steele asked picking up the crime scene report.
"Well our Ms. Harris is checking out his father and his friends so I guess we concentrate on Mrs. Fielding and her deceased husband and hope that we turn something up first." Dobbs did not sound enthusiastic.
Steele took his jacket off. "I guess it's going to be a long night."
Mark turned to Alison. "If you'll excuse me a minute."
"It's all right Mark, I need to go anyway." Alison replied wiping the tears away from her face. "Thanks for telling me everything." She seemed a little dazed as she continued hesitantly, "I... I'll be at home if there is any news. C..could you call me?"
"Of course I will." Mark replied summoning his most reassuring smile.
"It doesn't matter what time. I doubt that I'll get much sleep." She added and then headed for the door.
"Alison," Mark called after her.
She stopped and turned.
"Are you sure that you are going to be all right?" He asked.
Alison smiled at him. It was a measure of the man's character that he could still show concern for her in the midst of all that was happening to him. "I'll be fine Mark, now you go take care of Jesse and give him my love." Alison replied.
Mark watched her leave, part of him wanted to stop her, she was clearly upset and concerned and he was worried about her being alone but once again he had a more immediate problem to focus on. He turned back to Dr. Taylor. "I'm sorry Bill, you were saying?"
Dr. Taylor continued to look uncomfortable. "It's about Dr. Travis', " he paused deciding to be less formal. "Jesse's injury. I've done some tests and I've just been discussing the results of those and his X-rays with his surgeon, Dr. Michaelson."
"And?" Mark prompted noting his colleague's reluctance to continue.
"It appears there may be some complications. There seems to be more extensive nerve damage than he thought. You saw the injury?"
"I was in the ER," Mark confirmed.
"Dr. Michaelson did an excellent job saving the arm at all..."
"Bill." Mark interrupted, realising that his colleague was trying to avoid getting to the point. If Dr. Bill Taylor had any faults it was his inability to deliver bad news. He usually had to preamble before he got around to it and Mark was too exhausted to deal with that. "What is the problem?" He asked bluntly staring into his colleagues eyes.
Dr. Taylor reacted to the sharp tone and returned his colleague's gaze. He took in a deep breath. "Jesse has no feeling in part of his hand. It's possible that the nerve damage is extensive enough for him not to regain full function."
Mark instantly realised the significance that would have for Jesse. It could end his career as an ER doctor. He was expected to perform surgery and hundreds of procedures that needed both hands. Mark allowed a little time for the news to sink in before asking. "Does he know?"
Dr. Taylor nodded " It's kind of difficult to keep anything from a doctor like Jesse. He knows all the tests."
"How sure are you?" Mark asked
"At the moment it's about fifty-fifty. The damage caused a lot of swelling and the nerves that have been successfully repaired will take a while to respond normally so it will be several days before we know anything for sure, but I do know that Dr. Michaelson is concerned. He thought you should be aware of the potential prognosis." Dr. Taylor studied his colleagues' reactions before continuing. "He wants to operate again as soon as he can to ensure that he has done all that is possible."
The implication that that may not be enough was not lost on Mark. "So when does he want to operate?"
"To give him the best chance of success, tomorrow morning."
Mark blew out a breath slowly. He considered the implications. No surgery was without risk and it would have been better if Jesse had more time to recover from the initial trauma before going through another operation, but to wait could mean that any damage would be irreparable. "Thanks for letting me know Bill." Mark said favouring his colleague with the closest he could get to a smile.
"That's OK," Bill replied. "I've already told Amanda, she went down to see him just before I found you." He smiled back at Mark, "and," he continued. "I sent both of the law enforcement agents away. I told them that Dr. Travis was in no condition to answer any questions and they would have to come back tomorrow."
Mark's smile became slightly more genuine. "I bet Agent Harris loved that."
"She did seem a little upset." Dr. Taylor replied. "I suspect she will be even more upset when she comes back tomorrow and she still can't see him."
Even in the short time Dr. Taylor had spent in Agent Harris' company he had decided that he did not like her arrogant attitude. Nathan on the other hand, he had met before and knew that Mark Jesse and Amanda had all worked with him. "I also had a quiet word with Detective Turner," he added. "I told him that if he came in early tomorrow, Jesse might be up to speaking with him for a short time before he goes down for surgery."
Mark nodded and smiled once more. "Thanks again Bill." He said and then his eyes glazed over as he became lost in his own train of thoughts
There was a short but uncomfortable silence. Dr. Taylor was uncertain of what else to add. He wanted to offer some further words of reassurance or comfort to his colleague but in the circumstances he knew that they would do little good. From the faraway expression on Mark's face he did not think that he would hear him anyway.
"OK I'd better get back to my rounds." He finally said. Mark did not reply confirming his suspicions that the old doctor was no longer listening. Leaving Mark to his thoughts he exited the room.
Director Collins slammed the file own on his desk and pressed the intercom button. "Baker, are you still there?" He asked brusquely.
"Yes sir," came the slightly hesitant reply
"Then get in here." Collins took his finger off the intercom and continued to scowl at the file.
Baker entered hesitantly a few moments later. Obviously his boss's conciliatory mood had not lasted. He stood and waited for the next barked order and so was somewhat taken aback when he was asked a question.
"How long have you worked for me?"
"Sir?"
"How long have you worked in this office?" Collins repeated.
"Six months sir." Baker replied when he finally got his mind to acknowledge the question.
"And before that?"
"I worked in the Dallas office sir"
"Field assignments?"
"No sir, only office work so far sir."
Collins sat back in his chair and studied the young man who began to feel even more uncomfortable under the scrutiny.
Abruptly Collins sat up in his chair and pulled it back towards his desk. So abruptly that he made the young man opposite flinch back from the sudden movement. "Then this will be your opportunity to prove yourself." He said turning his customary scowl into an equally unsettling smile. "Book us two seats on the next flight to LAX and then go home and pack."
"Sir?" Baker asked bewildered by the order.
Collins held his subordinates gaze. "You and I, Baker, are going to go and sort out this mess in Malibu."
Mark wasn't sure how long he had remained in the relatives room after Dr. Taylor had left. Come to think of it he couldn't remember Bill leaving. He hoped that he hadn't been rude but he had so many things to think about that he just did not no where to start. Each chain of thought brought it's own sets of worries and concerns and crowded for attention with so many others.
It had now been nearly twelve hours since he or anyone else had heard from Steve. Twelve hours since he had left the hospital injured. Each time he thought about it Mark was faced with the frustration of not knowing where his son was or what was happening to him, only that he was out in the city somewhere, hurt and in need of help. The fact that Steve seemed to have willingly walked himself into this situation did little to allay his fears Part of him just wanted to sit down and cry, let the emotion that was building up inside him out, but he knew that would not help his son or his friend who lay only a few feet away in a hospital bed.
Mark wiped away the tears that were threatening in his eyes and took a deep breath to steel himself to return to Jesse's room. Whatever else was going on Jesse needed his help and support.
Mark had been Jesse's mentor from the moment they had met back when Jesse was an intern. Now, five years on, Jesse was in charge of the ER and he thrived on it. Mark shuddered to think how his young protégé would respond if that role were taken away from him.
As he entered the room both Jesse and Amanda turned to smile at him.
"Hey we were just wondering where you were." Jesse said as brightly as the pain medication would allow. "Are you OK?" he asked as Mark approached the bed. Even in his slightly doped state it was difficult not to notice Mark's increasingly haggard appearance as the worry took it's toll.
"Mark smiled back. "Shouldn't I be asking you that?" He replied avoiding the question. "So how are you feeling?"
"Better since they told me they were going to operate again in the morning." Jesse replied grinning. He allowed Mark's puzzled expression for a few seconds before pointing to the 'nil by mouth' sign above the bed. "It means I get a reprieve on the hospital food."
Mark couldn't help but smile at the joke. He looked up at Amanda and tried to read her expression. She wasn't smiling, instead there was a deep concern there. Mark looked back down at his young friend. "Seriously Jess, I just talked to Dr. Taylor. If you want to talk...."
"Hey, I am serious," Jesse interrupted. "I'm fine Mark or at least I will be once this arm heals up." He stopped speaking for a moment looking first at Amanda and then back at Mark "and despite what Dr. Taylor said it will heal up. I have every confidence in Dr. Michaelson. He's a brilliant surgeon. I've seen him reattach completely severed limbs and the patient has made a full recovery. So you see there's nothing to worry about."
Mark looked at Amanda, his eyes now reflecting the concern in hers. He had years of experience dealing with patients when they were given a negative prognosis and he knew that his friend wasn't putting on a brave face, he was denying the possibility that there was anything wrong. If the worst turned out to be true, Mark and Amanda both knew that they would have to help him deal with that denial.
"So have you heard anything more about Steve?" Jesse asked, changing the subject. He did not want to think about himself or dwell on what Dr. Taylor had told him. If he allowed himself to consider it, well, he knew too much not to go into all of the possibilities. No, he just had to believe in Dr. Michaelson's skills and then everything would be all right.
Mark sank down into one of the bedside chairs. "No, nothing new," he said trying hard to keep the dejection out of his voice. He looked out of the window at the encroaching darkness. It was going to be a long night.
It was at that point that the phone rang. Mark moved to answer it explaining as he went. "I've arranged to have my phone calls diverted here just in case Steve tries to get in touch at the beach house whilst I'm not there." He did not add although Amanda had surmised it from their earlier conversation that he had no intention of returning to the beach house until he knew what had happened to Steve.
The thought of returning to his wrecked home was bad enough. The thought of being alone there, not knowing where or how Steve was, was unthinkable.
Mark approached the phone with trepidation. The knowledge that it may bring news from Steve or may possibly be Steve himself made his gut tie itself in knots. As he reached out to pick up the receiver he could not control the slight shake of his hands.
"Hello, Dr. Sloan," he said having to clear his throat as the words caught. The disappointment he felt when he recognised the voice at the other end and it was not Steve's was almost palpable. The fear that the speaker may still have bad news was etched in his face.
"Mark it's Jack Newman here." The police captain did not use his title when speaking to Mark they had known each other for a while now and even though he was Steve's boss they were still on first name terms.
"Jack. What can I do for you?" Mark asked trying to sound calm, despite the turmoil of emotion that gripped him.
"I just wondered if you had heard from Steve?"
Mark let out the breath he had been holding. At least the phone call was not bad news. "No I haven't."
"I was afraid of that," there was concern in the captain's voice. "I kept internal affairs out of this as long as possible Mark, but I have to tell you they've put out an APB for Steve and the woman he was seen with" he continued apologetically. "I thought I'd better tell you myself rather than let you hear it from someone else. I'm afraid Steve could be in a lot of trouble."
Mark did not tell him that he had already heard the news from someone else, nor did he point out that a police warrant was the least of the concerns he had for his son. Instead he said simply "Thanks for letting me know."
"If you should hear from him..." the captain began.
"I'll be sure to get in touch." Mark confirmed.
"If you contact me directly I'll help all I can."
"Thank you, I appreciate that," Mark said, genuinely grateful at the captain's concern, "and if you hear anything.."
"You'll be the first to know."
Mark replaced the receiver and turned back to his friends. Although they had only heard his side of the conversation they had watched his reactions and at least knew that the situation had not worsened. They waited patiently for him to fill them in. Mark sat down before confirming that there was still no news on Steve.
Emma did her best to keep Steve's temperature down and, as she had for much of the day to try to get him to drink some liquid but she knew that she was fighting a losing battle. With each passing hour his condition deteriorated slightly. He had developed a fever and even on the occasions when he returned to some form of consciousness he could not recognise her. It was clear to her that an infection was taking hold. In his weakened state from the blood loss and dehydration his body was simply unable to fight it and he was becoming progressively weaker.
Emma sat back in the chair. She had done all she could for the time being and Steve seemed to be resting relatively comfortably. She stared out of the window into the darkness and said a silent prayer. It was the only thing she could think of to do.
She felt so helpless, unable to help the man that had risked everything to help her. The tears that she thought she must have run out of by now started to fall once more. "Oh Steve, what have I done to you?" she said quietly resting her head against his good shoulder, allowing the sobbing to take over. Finally the mental and physical exhaustion claimed her and she fell into a troubled sleep.
Mark remained in Jesse's hospital room for the rest of the evening. Both he and Jesse had insisted that Amanda go home to see her sons and although she wanted to stay to help and support her friends, she had finally accepted that they were there for each other. Having secured a promise that they would call her if there was anything at all they needed, she had left.
Mark had settled himself into a chair. He had no intention of leaving Jesse alone just in case he changed his mind and wanted to talk about his injury. He also did not want to be, could not be alone whilst he waited for news on his son and he realised with some pain that he did not have anywhere else he could go. His home in the real sense of the word, the place he felt safe, secure and familiar, simply was not there.
The trauma Jesse had suffered together with the pain medication meant that he kept drifting off to sleep leaving Mark with nothing to do except sit and think. Unwilling to spend the time dwelling on his fear and frustration Mark instead allowed his mind to drift into nostalgic memories of all the good times that he had spent with his son.
Unable to sleep he remained at Jesse's bedside as the seemingly endless hours of the night dragged slowly by.
"Emma?"
Emma was awoken from her sleep by somebody softly calling her name. It took her a few moments to orient herself. She sat up and rubbed her eyes attempting to clear them and shake the stiffness out of her muscles and then she looked across at Steve staring at her. His crystal blue eyes, slightly dulled by pain gazing deeply into hers.
"Sorry," he said "I didn't realise you were asleep. I didn't mean to wake you"
Emma realised that for the first time in several hours Steve was awake and lucid. "No, I'm glad you did." She replied smiling warmly at him. "It's good to see you awake." She thought for a few moments before she continued hesitantly "Steve I..."
Steve spoke simultaneously "I just.." They both stopped. "You first." Steve said.
Emma took a deep breath gathering the courage for what she had to say once more. "It's about the bullet Steve," she paused unsure of how to continue, of how to word what she had to say. "I'm sorry. I tried truly I did." She looked down unable to hold his gaze. "But the knife... I just couldn't.... I tried but.."
"Hey," Steve interrupted. "It's OK I understand," he said gently
She looked back at him aware that what she had said had made little sense but willing to take the comfort that Steve's words gave her. "You do?"
Steve still did not know the full extent of the trauma Emma had suffered when she found her husband but he could imagine enough to know that asking her to approach him with a knife in her current state of mind, was asking the impossible. He stared directly back at her. "Yes I do," he said firmly, "And its all right."
Emma looked relieved but it was short lived, her eyes became fearful once more. "No, it's not all right. If the bullet isn't removed then you're going to... You could..." She could not bring herself to complete the sentence. She looked down at the ground unable to look at him as the apology that she had repeated to his sleeping form poured out. "I'm sorry Steve, I should never have called you. I shouldn't have got you involved. It's brought you nothing but pain and misery and now..."
"Hey, stop it," Steve interrupted he placed his hand under her chin and pushed it up forcing her to look into his eyes as he spoke. "You have nothing to apologise for. Do you hear me?"
He paused to study her expression when he got no response he continued. "I've been free to chose what to do at every stage and we are here now because it is what I have chosen to do." He tried to make his tone as firm as possible. "You are not responsible for what happens to me."
At that Emma could not keep quiet "But.." She started to protest.
Steve swallowed hard he could feel his strength failing and he needed to get Emma to understand what he had to say. He had had time to consider his position and accept what was happening. Now he just had to get Emma to do the same.
"No," he cut short her protest. "You must listen to me. Whatever happens I want you to make me a promise." He paused and she nodded slightly to indicate that he should continue. "I want you to promise me that you will take the money and get away from here. As far as you possibly can until you are out of danger."
Emma's eyes widened with horror as the full implication of what he was saying hit her. "No Steve I..."
"Promise me," Steve said urgently.
"But I can't... You...."
"Promise me," Steve repeated. "Otherwise everything I've done in the last day. All that's happened will be for nothing." There was a pleading tone in Steve's voice. He knew that his strength was fading and he did not now how long he could hold on to consciousness.
Emma looked at him helplessly. He couldn't mean what he was saying. She stared deep into his eyes and saw only sincerity and concern for her..
"Promise me," he repeated softly for a third time, returning her gaze.
Unable to resist any longer. Emma squeezed her eyes tightly closed. "I promise," she said as a single tear ran down her face.
Relieved Steve sank back onto the pillows. "Thank you," he whispered and closed his eyes.
Emma sat and watched Steve sleep. Lost in thoughts of her own as she tried to decide what to do. It was almost dawn by the time she had made up her mind. It took her a little while longer to get everything straight.
Placing some water where Steve could easily reach it. She kissed him softly on the forehead. "Forgive me," she said quietly. Then without looking back she retrieved the car keys, cell phone and Steve's gun from the table and left the house.
Steele stepped out of the car and headed for the office. He had left Dobbs two hours ago when their latest lead had petered out and, frustrated with the situation, they had both decided to call it a day. He had been back to his apartment and tried to relax for a while before deciding to go through the files again at the office. There must be some clue as to where Sloan and the woman could have gone or to where the missing disc was.
He was surprised to find that he was not alone when he entered the office. Dobbs was already there tapping away at his computer keyboard when Steele walked in.
"I thought you said you were going home?" Steele said, causing Dobbs to jump slightly before he turned round.
"So did you." The older man countered.
"Yeah, well I guess this case is just getting to me. Let's face it it's not doing a lot for either of our reputations." He moved to sit down at his desk. "The chief suspect's dead, along with the civilian we recruited to help, the data's missing and we're getting exactly nowhere." He scowled. "I bet our Ms. Harris is just loving every minute of this."
"Which is why I'm here trying to get a lead on this thing." Dobbs replied, regarding his partner.
"I thought I'd access the police records, see if there are any clues there."
"Find anything?"
"No," Dobbs' tone was somewhat dejected, "there are some interesting anecdotes on Sloan's record but nothing to indicate how he might be involved."
"So where do we go from here?" Steele asked picking up the crime scene report.
"Well our Ms. Harris is checking out his father and his friends so I guess we concentrate on Mrs. Fielding and her deceased husband and hope that we turn something up first." Dobbs did not sound enthusiastic.
Steele took his jacket off. "I guess it's going to be a long night."
Mark turned to Alison. "If you'll excuse me a minute."
"It's all right Mark, I need to go anyway." Alison replied wiping the tears away from her face. "Thanks for telling me everything." She seemed a little dazed as she continued hesitantly, "I... I'll be at home if there is any news. C..could you call me?"
"Of course I will." Mark replied summoning his most reassuring smile.
"It doesn't matter what time. I doubt that I'll get much sleep." She added and then headed for the door.
"Alison," Mark called after her.
She stopped and turned.
"Are you sure that you are going to be all right?" He asked.
Alison smiled at him. It was a measure of the man's character that he could still show concern for her in the midst of all that was happening to him. "I'll be fine Mark, now you go take care of Jesse and give him my love." Alison replied.
Mark watched her leave, part of him wanted to stop her, she was clearly upset and concerned and he was worried about her being alone but once again he had a more immediate problem to focus on. He turned back to Dr. Taylor. "I'm sorry Bill, you were saying?"
Dr. Taylor continued to look uncomfortable. "It's about Dr. Travis', " he paused deciding to be less formal. "Jesse's injury. I've done some tests and I've just been discussing the results of those and his X-rays with his surgeon, Dr. Michaelson."
"And?" Mark prompted noting his colleague's reluctance to continue.
"It appears there may be some complications. There seems to be more extensive nerve damage than he thought. You saw the injury?"
"I was in the ER," Mark confirmed.
"Dr. Michaelson did an excellent job saving the arm at all..."
"Bill." Mark interrupted, realising that his colleague was trying to avoid getting to the point. If Dr. Bill Taylor had any faults it was his inability to deliver bad news. He usually had to preamble before he got around to it and Mark was too exhausted to deal with that. "What is the problem?" He asked bluntly staring into his colleagues eyes.
Dr. Taylor reacted to the sharp tone and returned his colleague's gaze. He took in a deep breath. "Jesse has no feeling in part of his hand. It's possible that the nerve damage is extensive enough for him not to regain full function."
Mark instantly realised the significance that would have for Jesse. It could end his career as an ER doctor. He was expected to perform surgery and hundreds of procedures that needed both hands. Mark allowed a little time for the news to sink in before asking. "Does he know?"
Dr. Taylor nodded " It's kind of difficult to keep anything from a doctor like Jesse. He knows all the tests."
"How sure are you?" Mark asked
"At the moment it's about fifty-fifty. The damage caused a lot of swelling and the nerves that have been successfully repaired will take a while to respond normally so it will be several days before we know anything for sure, but I do know that Dr. Michaelson is concerned. He thought you should be aware of the potential prognosis." Dr. Taylor studied his colleagues' reactions before continuing. "He wants to operate again as soon as he can to ensure that he has done all that is possible."
The implication that that may not be enough was not lost on Mark. "So when does he want to operate?"
"To give him the best chance of success, tomorrow morning."
Mark blew out a breath slowly. He considered the implications. No surgery was without risk and it would have been better if Jesse had more time to recover from the initial trauma before going through another operation, but to wait could mean that any damage would be irreparable. "Thanks for letting me know Bill." Mark said favouring his colleague with the closest he could get to a smile.
"That's OK," Bill replied. "I've already told Amanda, she went down to see him just before I found you." He smiled back at Mark, "and," he continued. "I sent both of the law enforcement agents away. I told them that Dr. Travis was in no condition to answer any questions and they would have to come back tomorrow."
Mark's smile became slightly more genuine. "I bet Agent Harris loved that."
"She did seem a little upset." Dr. Taylor replied. "I suspect she will be even more upset when she comes back tomorrow and she still can't see him."
Even in the short time Dr. Taylor had spent in Agent Harris' company he had decided that he did not like her arrogant attitude. Nathan on the other hand, he had met before and knew that Mark Jesse and Amanda had all worked with him. "I also had a quiet word with Detective Turner," he added. "I told him that if he came in early tomorrow, Jesse might be up to speaking with him for a short time before he goes down for surgery."
Mark nodded and smiled once more. "Thanks again Bill." He said and then his eyes glazed over as he became lost in his own train of thoughts
There was a short but uncomfortable silence. Dr. Taylor was uncertain of what else to add. He wanted to offer some further words of reassurance or comfort to his colleague but in the circumstances he knew that they would do little good. From the faraway expression on Mark's face he did not think that he would hear him anyway.
"OK I'd better get back to my rounds." He finally said. Mark did not reply confirming his suspicions that the old doctor was no longer listening. Leaving Mark to his thoughts he exited the room.
Director Collins slammed the file own on his desk and pressed the intercom button. "Baker, are you still there?" He asked brusquely.
"Yes sir," came the slightly hesitant reply
"Then get in here." Collins took his finger off the intercom and continued to scowl at the file.
Baker entered hesitantly a few moments later. Obviously his boss's conciliatory mood had not lasted. He stood and waited for the next barked order and so was somewhat taken aback when he was asked a question.
"How long have you worked for me?"
"Sir?"
"How long have you worked in this office?" Collins repeated.
"Six months sir." Baker replied when he finally got his mind to acknowledge the question.
"And before that?"
"I worked in the Dallas office sir"
"Field assignments?"
"No sir, only office work so far sir."
Collins sat back in his chair and studied the young man who began to feel even more uncomfortable under the scrutiny.
Abruptly Collins sat up in his chair and pulled it back towards his desk. So abruptly that he made the young man opposite flinch back from the sudden movement. "Then this will be your opportunity to prove yourself." He said turning his customary scowl into an equally unsettling smile. "Book us two seats on the next flight to LAX and then go home and pack."
"Sir?" Baker asked bewildered by the order.
Collins held his subordinates gaze. "You and I, Baker, are going to go and sort out this mess in Malibu."
Mark wasn't sure how long he had remained in the relatives room after Dr. Taylor had left. Come to think of it he couldn't remember Bill leaving. He hoped that he hadn't been rude but he had so many things to think about that he just did not no where to start. Each chain of thought brought it's own sets of worries and concerns and crowded for attention with so many others.
It had now been nearly twelve hours since he or anyone else had heard from Steve. Twelve hours since he had left the hospital injured. Each time he thought about it Mark was faced with the frustration of not knowing where his son was or what was happening to him, only that he was out in the city somewhere, hurt and in need of help. The fact that Steve seemed to have willingly walked himself into this situation did little to allay his fears Part of him just wanted to sit down and cry, let the emotion that was building up inside him out, but he knew that would not help his son or his friend who lay only a few feet away in a hospital bed.
Mark wiped away the tears that were threatening in his eyes and took a deep breath to steel himself to return to Jesse's room. Whatever else was going on Jesse needed his help and support.
Mark had been Jesse's mentor from the moment they had met back when Jesse was an intern. Now, five years on, Jesse was in charge of the ER and he thrived on it. Mark shuddered to think how his young protégé would respond if that role were taken away from him.
As he entered the room both Jesse and Amanda turned to smile at him.
"Hey we were just wondering where you were." Jesse said as brightly as the pain medication would allow. "Are you OK?" he asked as Mark approached the bed. Even in his slightly doped state it was difficult not to notice Mark's increasingly haggard appearance as the worry took it's toll.
"Mark smiled back. "Shouldn't I be asking you that?" He replied avoiding the question. "So how are you feeling?"
"Better since they told me they were going to operate again in the morning." Jesse replied grinning. He allowed Mark's puzzled expression for a few seconds before pointing to the 'nil by mouth' sign above the bed. "It means I get a reprieve on the hospital food."
Mark couldn't help but smile at the joke. He looked up at Amanda and tried to read her expression. She wasn't smiling, instead there was a deep concern there. Mark looked back down at his young friend. "Seriously Jess, I just talked to Dr. Taylor. If you want to talk...."
"Hey, I am serious," Jesse interrupted. "I'm fine Mark or at least I will be once this arm heals up." He stopped speaking for a moment looking first at Amanda and then back at Mark "and despite what Dr. Taylor said it will heal up. I have every confidence in Dr. Michaelson. He's a brilliant surgeon. I've seen him reattach completely severed limbs and the patient has made a full recovery. So you see there's nothing to worry about."
Mark looked at Amanda, his eyes now reflecting the concern in hers. He had years of experience dealing with patients when they were given a negative prognosis and he knew that his friend wasn't putting on a brave face, he was denying the possibility that there was anything wrong. If the worst turned out to be true, Mark and Amanda both knew that they would have to help him deal with that denial.
"So have you heard anything more about Steve?" Jesse asked, changing the subject. He did not want to think about himself or dwell on what Dr. Taylor had told him. If he allowed himself to consider it, well, he knew too much not to go into all of the possibilities. No, he just had to believe in Dr. Michaelson's skills and then everything would be all right.
Mark sank down into one of the bedside chairs. "No, nothing new," he said trying hard to keep the dejection out of his voice. He looked out of the window at the encroaching darkness. It was going to be a long night.
It was at that point that the phone rang. Mark moved to answer it explaining as he went. "I've arranged to have my phone calls diverted here just in case Steve tries to get in touch at the beach house whilst I'm not there." He did not add although Amanda had surmised it from their earlier conversation that he had no intention of returning to the beach house until he knew what had happened to Steve.
The thought of returning to his wrecked home was bad enough. The thought of being alone there, not knowing where or how Steve was, was unthinkable.
Mark approached the phone with trepidation. The knowledge that it may bring news from Steve or may possibly be Steve himself made his gut tie itself in knots. As he reached out to pick up the receiver he could not control the slight shake of his hands.
"Hello, Dr. Sloan," he said having to clear his throat as the words caught. The disappointment he felt when he recognised the voice at the other end and it was not Steve's was almost palpable. The fear that the speaker may still have bad news was etched in his face.
"Mark it's Jack Newman here." The police captain did not use his title when speaking to Mark they had known each other for a while now and even though he was Steve's boss they were still on first name terms.
"Jack. What can I do for you?" Mark asked trying to sound calm, despite the turmoil of emotion that gripped him.
"I just wondered if you had heard from Steve?"
Mark let out the breath he had been holding. At least the phone call was not bad news. "No I haven't."
"I was afraid of that," there was concern in the captain's voice. "I kept internal affairs out of this as long as possible Mark, but I have to tell you they've put out an APB for Steve and the woman he was seen with" he continued apologetically. "I thought I'd better tell you myself rather than let you hear it from someone else. I'm afraid Steve could be in a lot of trouble."
Mark did not tell him that he had already heard the news from someone else, nor did he point out that a police warrant was the least of the concerns he had for his son. Instead he said simply "Thanks for letting me know."
"If you should hear from him..." the captain began.
"I'll be sure to get in touch." Mark confirmed.
"If you contact me directly I'll help all I can."
"Thank you, I appreciate that," Mark said, genuinely grateful at the captain's concern, "and if you hear anything.."
"You'll be the first to know."
Mark replaced the receiver and turned back to his friends. Although they had only heard his side of the conversation they had watched his reactions and at least knew that the situation had not worsened. They waited patiently for him to fill them in. Mark sat down before confirming that there was still no news on Steve.
Emma did her best to keep Steve's temperature down and, as she had for much of the day to try to get him to drink some liquid but she knew that she was fighting a losing battle. With each passing hour his condition deteriorated slightly. He had developed a fever and even on the occasions when he returned to some form of consciousness he could not recognise her. It was clear to her that an infection was taking hold. In his weakened state from the blood loss and dehydration his body was simply unable to fight it and he was becoming progressively weaker.
Emma sat back in the chair. She had done all she could for the time being and Steve seemed to be resting relatively comfortably. She stared out of the window into the darkness and said a silent prayer. It was the only thing she could think of to do.
She felt so helpless, unable to help the man that had risked everything to help her. The tears that she thought she must have run out of by now started to fall once more. "Oh Steve, what have I done to you?" she said quietly resting her head against his good shoulder, allowing the sobbing to take over. Finally the mental and physical exhaustion claimed her and she fell into a troubled sleep.
Mark remained in Jesse's hospital room for the rest of the evening. Both he and Jesse had insisted that Amanda go home to see her sons and although she wanted to stay to help and support her friends, she had finally accepted that they were there for each other. Having secured a promise that they would call her if there was anything at all they needed, she had left.
Mark had settled himself into a chair. He had no intention of leaving Jesse alone just in case he changed his mind and wanted to talk about his injury. He also did not want to be, could not be alone whilst he waited for news on his son and he realised with some pain that he did not have anywhere else he could go. His home in the real sense of the word, the place he felt safe, secure and familiar, simply was not there.
The trauma Jesse had suffered together with the pain medication meant that he kept drifting off to sleep leaving Mark with nothing to do except sit and think. Unwilling to spend the time dwelling on his fear and frustration Mark instead allowed his mind to drift into nostalgic memories of all the good times that he had spent with his son.
Unable to sleep he remained at Jesse's bedside as the seemingly endless hours of the night dragged slowly by.
"Emma?"
Emma was awoken from her sleep by somebody softly calling her name. It took her a few moments to orient herself. She sat up and rubbed her eyes attempting to clear them and shake the stiffness out of her muscles and then she looked across at Steve staring at her. His crystal blue eyes, slightly dulled by pain gazing deeply into hers.
"Sorry," he said "I didn't realise you were asleep. I didn't mean to wake you"
Emma realised that for the first time in several hours Steve was awake and lucid. "No, I'm glad you did." She replied smiling warmly at him. "It's good to see you awake." She thought for a few moments before she continued hesitantly "Steve I..."
Steve spoke simultaneously "I just.." They both stopped. "You first." Steve said.
Emma took a deep breath gathering the courage for what she had to say once more. "It's about the bullet Steve," she paused unsure of how to continue, of how to word what she had to say. "I'm sorry. I tried truly I did." She looked down unable to hold his gaze. "But the knife... I just couldn't.... I tried but.."
"Hey," Steve interrupted. "It's OK I understand," he said gently
She looked back at him aware that what she had said had made little sense but willing to take the comfort that Steve's words gave her. "You do?"
Steve still did not know the full extent of the trauma Emma had suffered when she found her husband but he could imagine enough to know that asking her to approach him with a knife in her current state of mind, was asking the impossible. He stared directly back at her. "Yes I do," he said firmly, "And its all right."
Emma looked relieved but it was short lived, her eyes became fearful once more. "No, it's not all right. If the bullet isn't removed then you're going to... You could..." She could not bring herself to complete the sentence. She looked down at the ground unable to look at him as the apology that she had repeated to his sleeping form poured out. "I'm sorry Steve, I should never have called you. I shouldn't have got you involved. It's brought you nothing but pain and misery and now..."
"Hey, stop it," Steve interrupted he placed his hand under her chin and pushed it up forcing her to look into his eyes as he spoke. "You have nothing to apologise for. Do you hear me?"
He paused to study her expression when he got no response he continued. "I've been free to chose what to do at every stage and we are here now because it is what I have chosen to do." He tried to make his tone as firm as possible. "You are not responsible for what happens to me."
At that Emma could not keep quiet "But.." She started to protest.
Steve swallowed hard he could feel his strength failing and he needed to get Emma to understand what he had to say. He had had time to consider his position and accept what was happening. Now he just had to get Emma to do the same.
"No," he cut short her protest. "You must listen to me. Whatever happens I want you to make me a promise." He paused and she nodded slightly to indicate that he should continue. "I want you to promise me that you will take the money and get away from here. As far as you possibly can until you are out of danger."
Emma's eyes widened with horror as the full implication of what he was saying hit her. "No Steve I..."
"Promise me," Steve said urgently.
"But I can't... You...."
"Promise me," Steve repeated. "Otherwise everything I've done in the last day. All that's happened will be for nothing." There was a pleading tone in Steve's voice. He knew that his strength was fading and he did not now how long he could hold on to consciousness.
Emma looked at him helplessly. He couldn't mean what he was saying. She stared deep into his eyes and saw only sincerity and concern for her..
"Promise me," he repeated softly for a third time, returning her gaze.
Unable to resist any longer. Emma squeezed her eyes tightly closed. "I promise," she said as a single tear ran down her face.
Relieved Steve sank back onto the pillows. "Thank you," he whispered and closed his eyes.
Emma sat and watched Steve sleep. Lost in thoughts of her own as she tried to decide what to do. It was almost dawn by the time she had made up her mind. It took her a little while longer to get everything straight.
Placing some water where Steve could easily reach it. She kissed him softly on the forehead. "Forgive me," she said quietly. Then without looking back she retrieved the car keys, cell phone and Steve's gun from the table and left the house.