Chapter 3

"That's the third time tonight!" Jesse exclaimed from behind the counter of BBQ Bob's as Steve mopped up the drink he'd just spilt over a customer and the table "he's really bad for business sometimes". Amanda and Mark smiled at each other as Jesse removed their empty plates. Steve trudged past them without speaking and appeared again a moment later from the kitchen with a fresh drink in his hand. When he'd served the disgruntled customer he took a seat beside Amanda and let out a heavy sigh.

Jesse rolled his eyes "You're so clumsy, gonna cost us business" he scolded. Steve was obviously not amused at being corrected by his young partner. He didn't reply, just focused on a jar of pickles in front of him.

"Trying to make it levitate?" Jesse aimed to ease the tension but Steve didn't react, instead he turned to Amanda

"Can you get the lid off that jar?"

She shrugged, then realising it was a serious challenge she picked it up, held it close to her stomach and popped the lid. Steve shook his head.

"What is it?" Mark asked, suspicion creeping across his face.

"Nothing" Steve huffed "I'm off Jesse, lock up again will you?" He didn't give his friend a chance to protest, or to say goodbye, just made his way outside.

Mark followed a few steps behind his son; Steve didn't hear him as he tried to force the key into the car door. Mark squinted through the darkness; Steve's hands shook making the key dance around the lock, he mumbled, then cursed as he dropped the key. Crouching slowly, stiffly, he fumbled to pick the key up from the ground. Mark stepped forwards.

Placing the key in Steve's hands he said "A couple of days ago, at the hospital, your hands were giving you trouble" Steve nodded, forcing a smile.

"Honest officer, I haven't touched a drop" he slurred comically.

Mark didn't laugh but reached forwards and held one of Steve's hands in his own "Squeeze my hand"

"Dad" Steve pulled away "I haven't got Jesse's repetitive strain injury".

"So why are you dropping things and shaking. Why couldn't you get the top off the pickle jar?"

Steve smiled; Mark could usually spot the motives behind his actions. He looked down at his hands again and a frown returned to his face.

"I'm not saying it's RSI, but something is wrong, why don't we go to the hospital?"

"No". He waited for Mark's reply, when none came he conceded "Why don't we go home, or back inside?" Mark reluctantly agreed with a single nod, and together they made their way back into the restaurant.

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Steve and Mark sat on chairs opposite each other, knees almost touching. There were no customers left now and Amanda and Jesse hovered by the counter, aware of Steve's embarrassment. Mark held his son's hands in his own.

"Squeeze again" he instructed. Steve gritted his teeth and attempted to comply. "Ah-ha, and now raise your arms out to the sides like this" Mark posed like a child impersonating an aeroplane. Steve's arms were crooked, wouldn't straighten fully and then began to shake. Seeing his son was in some discomfort Mark signalled for him to drop them again. He rummaged in his pocked then pulled out a handful of coins. "OK, can you pick up a dime?" Steve concentrated, poked a finger and thumb into his fathers palm but failed to bring them together around the shiny prize. He shook his head in defeat and slumped back in the chair, hands resting in his lap.

"Diagnosis?" he asked loudly enough for Amanda and Jesse to be included in his question.

Mark raised his eyebrows "Got me a little stumped, no bangs to the head, migraines?"

"No, is that bad?" he asked quickly.

"Probably good if anything. What else, any other changes you've noticed? Can you describe how your hands feel?"

"Well they" Steve began "they feel kind of numb I guess. And my feet too, they started out the same as my hands, like a dull ache that just kept getting worse but now I feel cold, up to just above my ankles".

Mark nodded "When did you first notice it?"

Steve smiled a little "The night Cheryl and I heard about the Bennet murders I guess. But it's become worse in the last few days"

"Maybe it's voodoo" Jesse suggested, immediately wishing he could take the foolish statement back.

Steve was shocked for a moment, wondering if there was any way Jesse could know about the photos he and Cheryl had received. He huffed "Is that what you think too dad, that this is some sort of voodoo spell or my mind playing tricks on me? You think I'm going crazy?"

"No" Mark shook his head, surprised by the outburst. He held one of Steve's hands again. This time his touch was of a concerned father, not a doctor "It's possibly a circulation problem, but for it to come on so quickly, it's been what, 6 days?" Steve nodded. "That's very quick for a circulation problem, I think we should go to the hospital" looking over at his two colleagues who shrugged then nodded in silent agreement. He paused, not wanting to shock his son "I think we should go now".

Steve didn't argue, and together they left for the hospital.

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Amanda was aware of Mark pacing the floor of her path lab as she attempted to finish some of her reports. It had been almost two hours since they'd arrived with Steve who'd insisted on seeing the doctors alone, leaving Jesse to get some sleep down the hall and Amanda with a pile of paperwork.

"Arthritis?" Mark sounded as unconvinced as he had with his previous 20 diagnoses. Amanda shook her head, her upturned nose confirming with him it was unlikely given the history. "Allergic reaction would still fit for the sudden onset but the numbness doesn't really tie in". Amanda put her pen down and gave Mark her full attention now.

She smiled up at him "He's in good hands Mark, whatever it is Chan will figure it out. I'm sure it's something obvious, something simple we're missing"

"We're doctors" Mark cried "we aren't supposed to miss things." He sounded horrified by her suggestion, yet he knew she'd offered them only as words of comfort. He was about to continue when the door behind him creaked open and gingerly Steve walked in.

"Well?" Mark demanded too harshly. Steve looked drained now, pale and unsteady on his feet. Mark offered a hand to steady him but Steve brushed him off and eased himself into the chair by the door. "What did Chan say" Marks tone had softened now and he inwardly braced himself for bad news.

Steve shrugged "Noting medically wrong that he can find, asked the same questions as you did, did the same tests. Says it could be stress related, working long hours, nature of the case. Or a trapped nerve, he said that can cause problems but nothing for sure". He tried to sound positive "A few days off work and I should be feeling better, if not he said to come back in and he'd take another look".

Mark wanted to storm to Chan's consulting room and tell him he was wrong. He had always respected him, that's why he insisted Steve see him. Now though he was sure his friend had missed something. Yet he also knew that exploding wouldn't do anything to calm Steve's obvious fears.

"Lets get you home then" his voice was brimming with anger. Steve shot him a concerned look knowing full well what his father thought, then addressed Amanda

"You think Dr Leong is wrong too?"

Amanda's eyes darted to her desktop then to Mark. Finally they fell on Steve's own eyes which were glazed and wide like an expectant child. "I don't think resting will hurt for now, see how you feel in the morning".

Typically diplomatic Steve thought. He wished Amanda goodnight and allowed his father to place a guiding arm on his as they made their way out into the dimly lit corridor.

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"I'm sorry but no" Mark told the person at the other end of the phone "he's not available for work today….no.….I can but he's not…" Steve slowly moved up behind his father and gestured for him to hand over the receiver.

"Sloan here…..Chief hi….really, uh-hu", there was a pause "It'd be better if you could come over here." Mark frowned "OK, see you then". Steve hung up and sat next to his father. "I know, take it easy but there's a couple of things we need to discuss, this guy has to be stopped dad".

Despite his interest in the case Mark wanted his son to stay away from it at the moment. He looked across at Steve who'd sat back on the sofa; his usually athletic body seemed deflated, his shoulders slumped lopsidedly, his legs hung helplessly from his hips and his head fell weakly to one side. The dark t-shirt and grey sweatpants looked a size too big for him now.

Though his eyes had been focused on the floor Steve was aware of his fathers visual check-up. "I'm OK" he offered as an answer to the questioning gaze "I'll make sure Masters doesn't stay too long, I should just get the details from him. Why don't you go to the hospital?"

Mark was reluctant to leave him alone in this state but he knew Steve would resent his presence, especially if Chan turned out to be right and this was no more than exhaustion. *If only*, he thought to himself, because in Mark's mind there was no doubt that something was wrong with Steve. Something very wrong indeed.

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Mark, Jesse and Amanda sat together over lunch "When I popped back for my other glasses" Mark began oblivious to Amanda and Jesse's smirks. It was plain to them, as it probably had been to Steve, that Mark had gone home to check up on his patient and not to retrieve his spare pair of glasses. Mark took a drink of water "Master's was getting ready to leave when he said something similar to Jesse's voodoo remark the other night. I wasn't eavesdropping" Amanda and Jesse smirked at his plea of innocence "but Masters said something along the lines of they were taking the photo's as a serious threat towards Steve and Cheryl."

"Photos?" Amanda asked "like the ones found with the victims?"

Mark's eyes widened and he shrugged "I can only presume so".

"So Steve and Cheryl got photos, supposed to show what's going to happen to them and now he's feeling…unwell"

Mark didn't like the approach Jesse was taking with this information. In his mind his son was in physical danger from a murderer and given his poor health, he was in no state to defend himself should it be necessary.

Jesse couldn't contain the broad grin as he shuffled almost excitedly in his chair "Is Cheryl OK?" he asked hastily.

Mark just nodded wearily, hoping the young man would drop this foolish line of thought. Looking across at the old man sat staring out into space Amanda's heart sank, his eyes were glimmering with the tears beginning to form.

Jesse didn't pick up on his colleagues' body language and continued thinking out loud "this is like one of those things you see on TV, you know I…."

"Jesse" Amanda snapped, and her young friend instantly fell silent. Before she could begin to try and console Mark, he and Jesse were paged to the ER to meet an incoming convoy of ambulances. Glumly she noted how Mark swallowed hard and sniffed back the tears as he stood to leave.

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The phone in the beach house chirped impatiently as Steve sat sleeping on the sofa. He stirred, raising a heavy hand to his face, managing only to clumsily rub his eye with the back of his knuckles. As he glanced at the clock opposite him he realised he'd been sleeping almost five hours, and the evening sky outside had turned deep blue as it awaited the blackness of night. The phone continued to ring as Steve placed a hand either side of his legs to push himself to his feet. He only managed to raise himself up an inch or so when his elbows bent sharply and he bounced back down onto the sofa. He shook his head in defiance as the phone continued in it's repetitive invitation for him to get up and walk to it. Steve pushed the weight of his body forward as he again braced his arms on the seat of the sofa. More luck this time, he thought as he found himself standing, still slightly bent at the waist.

The victory was short lived. As the ringing stopped Steve's knees buckled and his legs gave way like a concertina beneath him. It was like slow motion he thought, as he watched the clock creeping up the wall in front of his eyes. He landed with a gentle bump and slumped to one side, closing his eyes instinctively when he feared he'd catch his head on the coffee table. As he lay on the floor, legs tucked up beside him he almost laughed at the ridiculous nature of it all. He'd had cramp before, pins and needles, 'dead legs' but nothing like this. "Trapped nerve, huh?" he asked the empty room.

A moment later the ringing began again, this time though the noise was emanating from his mobile phone that he'd left on the kitchen table. Steve again attempted to push himself to his feet, and it was then his expression changed from bemusement to horror. While his arms had some sluggish movement left in them there was no strength there anymore. He tried to move his legs; nothing at first. Steve stared to breathe rapidly, looking around the room for some kind of lifeline. Both phones were out of reach from down here, but he was determined not to simply lie and wait for somebody to find him.

As if on some army manoeuvre Steve began to awkwardly drag himself across the living room floor on his stomach. Flinging his arms in front of himself he tried to pull his body forward. His legs proved little help in the process, despite his best efforts to co-ordinate their movements they primarily flinched and jerked of their own accord, hindering more than helping his advance. After gaining only a few feet of ground he collapsed breathlessly, face down. The phone stopped ringing again and Steve closed his eyes in defeat.

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"Well?" Amanda looked concerned as Mark shook his head.

"Not answering his mobile either, I think I'd better get Cheryl to meet me over there".

"Want me to come?" Jesse asked and Mark looked unsure

"You've had a rough shift, you know you don't have to…"

Jesse didn't even answer as he and Mark headed out the door.

"Call me" Amanda shouted after them but they were already gone.

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"Steve, Steve! Are you in here" Mark shouted desperately as he threw open the front door. There was no response, and as Mark looked around the living room there was no sign of his son.

"Steve" he called again as he paced towards the kitchen "Steve, where are you?"

"Down here" came the simple and dry reply.

Mark turned quickly, shocked yet relieved by the answer. Steve sat with his back against the wall, his whole body slumped heavily to the left hand side. He was pale and tired looking as Mark knelt beside him, his hands instinctively beginning a physical examination of his son.

"What happened?" Mark asked, placing a hand on Steve's forehead as Jesse crouched beside them.

"I got up to answer the phone and my legs just gave way" he explained, wanting to laugh again at how feeble it all sounded. Mark checked his pulse.

"We were calling to check you were OK" Jesse apologised.

"Oh thanks!" Steve smiled. He read the expression on his fathers face and closed his eyes. Mark took the opportunity to shoot a worried glance at Jesse.

"Steve, we're going to get you to the hospital" Mark explained, but Steve didn't respond.

"Steve, do you think if we help you that you could try to stand?".

Steve shrugged lopsidedly "Give it a go".

Jesse and Mark each took a limp arm around their neck and managed to raise Steve eight inches from the floor.

"Can you straighten you legs?" Jesse asked and to Steve's own amazement he managed to, just a little.

Mark and Jesse hoisted him further from the floor, both straining under his weight.

"No, no put me down," Steve cried. He collapsed back against the wall as his father and friend lost their grip on him, and he again fell to the left. Mark was there to support his head as he lay helplessly on his side.

"I'll get an ambulance" Jesse asserted as Mark tried to move his son into a more comfortable position.

"You're going to be OK" Mark reassured him, hoping his words didn't sound as hollow to Steve as they did in his own head.

Steve closed his eyes as if hiding from the truth "What is this?" he asked, almost pleaded.

"I don't know yet, but we'll get to the bottom of it".

Jesse returned to the room and nodded to indicate the ambulance was on it's way. Cheryl followed a few steps behind him, gasping as she saw Steve sprawled out on the floor. Her hand instinctively darted towards the gun on her hip and she spun quickly, assessing the room.

"What happened?" she shouted, "was he here?"

"No" Steve whispered, "It's OK."

Cheryl shot a quizzical look at Mark, but he was totally focused on his son now. Realising there was no present danger, Cheryl bent down towards her partner "What happened, are you OK?" When Steve didn't reply she addressed the same question to Mark. "Dr Sloan?"

Jesse reached out and gently took her elbow, leading her reluctantly through into the living room.

"What is it dad?" Steve whispered again, as if Mark may be holding something from him. "Just tell me, if it's a brain tumour, or a stroke or something just tell me" he begged.

"I don't know" Mark apologised

"You would tell me, right?"

"If I knew I would tell you, I promise"

"One of you must know, my legs didn't pack up for no reason. Please, one of you just tell me" he urged, failing to notice that Jesse had left the room.

Realising Steve's desperation was upsetting him greatly Mark shuffled down lower on the floor, almost lying beside his son now. He ran a soothing hand across Steve's face "It's gonna be OK, I promise you. We'll figure this out and we'll get you better, just try and take it easy".

The sirens could be heard approaching outside as Mark continued to comfort his son.

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