Retribution, part 2
Missing Scene
Adsh
A/N: this next part is really, really short--with what I hope is enough Steve angst to satisfy the Steve fans!!!
And in answer to some of my "lovely" reviews... TO SOME...Thank you for reading. I am sorry for the changing of tenses--it wasn't intended, sometimes I just get confused...I see my stories in my head as they would unfold as a show and sometimes I just screw up and use the wrong word--but, hey, that's why it "amateur fiction"!!! And to respond to "EGO"--when I ask for FB it is to see if I'm wasting my readers time...is the story worth reading or is it boring them to death and an invitation for constructive criticism to made it more palatable and to share ideas when writers block stalls a story, and occasionally a reader has thought of a better angle than I had originally intended...or if I should give up posting that particular story all together...just because I don't post doesn't mean I don't continue to write; I write for me first, the reader second. And speaking of 'ego'--just what have "you" posted lately?? Just for edification--flames amuse me to no end and do not keep me from writing or posting!!! There are stories out there a hell of a lot better than mine-- and there is equally a lot of crap posted out there....'reader beware'!!
================
Steve's call ended quickly and he was trying to decide how best to approach his father about what was bothering the older man. Not as good with words and traversing the minefield of emotion, Steve was particularly worried about his father's sudden reticence at discussing any problem that he may be having.
'Perhaps a cold drink.' Steve thought, heading towards the kitchen. It always helped him to have a distraction during those strained silences that inevitable occurred in those heartfelt talks.
As Steve passed by the open kitchen window heading towards the refrigerator bits and pieces of the somber conversation between his father and best friend filtered in on the evening breeze, pulling him up short. Without conscious thought he tuned fully into the conversation, feelings of guilt replacing his earlier worry.
"When I was...when it...when it happened to me--in between being terrified and hysterical I would think of being right here, of the ocean; Steve and I out there riding the waves. It helped me get through some of those hours, helped me feel just a little safer..." Jesse's voice was quiet and distant, almost washed away in the pounding surf.
Jesse's words both heartened Steve and yet filled him with unimaginable shame. 'Jesse had thought of him, of all people, to ease his fears-- the 'friend' Jesse should have been able to trust to keep him safe but who had instead been the 'detective' to read him his rights, the one who snapped on the cuffs... the one who had arrested him for murder?"
Steve shook his head in disbelief. Guilt and uncertainty still plagued Steve over that murder case and what it had done to Jesse, that he had somehow not done enough for Jesse, in both trying to get him released on bail and in solving the case. All he could think at the time, and found him- self thinking two years later, was how much the young doctor should hate him for putting him through that horrifying ordeal.
More guilt assailed Steve as he continued to listen to the quiet exchange, disturbed beyond measure by his father's words; of hearing out loud, from his father's own lips, how helpless and terrified the older man had been for the last four months as he worried about his son's well being, putting his own plight behind that of his ailing son.
The quiet defeat in his father's confession hit Steve like a punch in the gut. How could he have let this happen; been the cause of so much pain and unrelenting fear for his father and best friend.
Fueling Steve's feelings of total culpability for the two men's despondent countenance was the fact he could offer no comfort, no words or explanations that would drive away their fear and the nightmares.
Thus, having nothing to offer to the conversation, he chose to not interfere, to not offer platitudes of understanding where there could never be understanding: after all, prison wasn't a place for him to understand or know, it was a place where the criminals he helped to bring down were banished away to deal with their demons out of sight of hope, of understanding, or compassion. Out of reach to family and friends, as Jesse had been, as his father had been.
Turning from the window he continued his trek to the refrigerator, pulling out one beer and quickly heading out to the living room. "Anything left to do Amanda?"
"I think everything is pretty much cleaned up." Amanda said. "As a matter of fact I was getting ready to head out myself, early day tomorrow."
"Thanks for everything." Steve said helping her on with her coat.
Giving Steve a quick hug she said sternly. "Anything you or Mark need, you call me."
Giving his friend a genuine smile he replied. "Yes ma'am."
"I'm going to go out and say goodnight. See you later."
"Goodnight Amanda."
Mark and Jesse's conversation had trailed off, neither having anything else to say, simply taking comfort in each other's presence.
"Mark. Jesse." Amanda's gentle voice broke their revelry. "The kitchen is about put back in order, I'm getting ready to head out if you don't need anything else."
Both men turned and Mark gave Amanda a heartfelt hug. "Thanks so much honey...I didn't mean for you to clean up the kitchen. I guess we just kind of got lost for a while.
"Quite all right Mark." She replied with a smile. "You take care of yourself and I'll see you both on Monday."
"See you Amanda." Jesse said, giving her a hug.
As Amanda saw herself out Steve sat on the couch and watched out the patio door as his father and best friend turned back towards the ocean, watching in companiable silence as the last rays of the sun set on the horizon; sharing in an unspoken silence of understanding that he would never be a part.
TBA ?????
**I said it would be short, and I hope I conveyed the proper amount of Steve angst (I really wanted him to feel bad) and after rewriting it at least four times I gave up...the case story I have in mind is Steve wanting to understand what his father and Jess went through by taking an undercover assignment in prison!!!! Anyone that would like to share an idea for making Steve miserable---feel free!!** (
Missing Scene
Adsh
A/N: this next part is really, really short--with what I hope is enough Steve angst to satisfy the Steve fans!!!
And in answer to some of my "lovely" reviews... TO SOME...Thank you for reading. I am sorry for the changing of tenses--it wasn't intended, sometimes I just get confused...I see my stories in my head as they would unfold as a show and sometimes I just screw up and use the wrong word--but, hey, that's why it "amateur fiction"!!! And to respond to "EGO"--when I ask for FB it is to see if I'm wasting my readers time...is the story worth reading or is it boring them to death and an invitation for constructive criticism to made it more palatable and to share ideas when writers block stalls a story, and occasionally a reader has thought of a better angle than I had originally intended...or if I should give up posting that particular story all together...just because I don't post doesn't mean I don't continue to write; I write for me first, the reader second. And speaking of 'ego'--just what have "you" posted lately?? Just for edification--flames amuse me to no end and do not keep me from writing or posting!!! There are stories out there a hell of a lot better than mine-- and there is equally a lot of crap posted out there....'reader beware'!!
================
Steve's call ended quickly and he was trying to decide how best to approach his father about what was bothering the older man. Not as good with words and traversing the minefield of emotion, Steve was particularly worried about his father's sudden reticence at discussing any problem that he may be having.
'Perhaps a cold drink.' Steve thought, heading towards the kitchen. It always helped him to have a distraction during those strained silences that inevitable occurred in those heartfelt talks.
As Steve passed by the open kitchen window heading towards the refrigerator bits and pieces of the somber conversation between his father and best friend filtered in on the evening breeze, pulling him up short. Without conscious thought he tuned fully into the conversation, feelings of guilt replacing his earlier worry.
"When I was...when it...when it happened to me--in between being terrified and hysterical I would think of being right here, of the ocean; Steve and I out there riding the waves. It helped me get through some of those hours, helped me feel just a little safer..." Jesse's voice was quiet and distant, almost washed away in the pounding surf.
Jesse's words both heartened Steve and yet filled him with unimaginable shame. 'Jesse had thought of him, of all people, to ease his fears-- the 'friend' Jesse should have been able to trust to keep him safe but who had instead been the 'detective' to read him his rights, the one who snapped on the cuffs... the one who had arrested him for murder?"
Steve shook his head in disbelief. Guilt and uncertainty still plagued Steve over that murder case and what it had done to Jesse, that he had somehow not done enough for Jesse, in both trying to get him released on bail and in solving the case. All he could think at the time, and found him- self thinking two years later, was how much the young doctor should hate him for putting him through that horrifying ordeal.
More guilt assailed Steve as he continued to listen to the quiet exchange, disturbed beyond measure by his father's words; of hearing out loud, from his father's own lips, how helpless and terrified the older man had been for the last four months as he worried about his son's well being, putting his own plight behind that of his ailing son.
The quiet defeat in his father's confession hit Steve like a punch in the gut. How could he have let this happen; been the cause of so much pain and unrelenting fear for his father and best friend.
Fueling Steve's feelings of total culpability for the two men's despondent countenance was the fact he could offer no comfort, no words or explanations that would drive away their fear and the nightmares.
Thus, having nothing to offer to the conversation, he chose to not interfere, to not offer platitudes of understanding where there could never be understanding: after all, prison wasn't a place for him to understand or know, it was a place where the criminals he helped to bring down were banished away to deal with their demons out of sight of hope, of understanding, or compassion. Out of reach to family and friends, as Jesse had been, as his father had been.
Turning from the window he continued his trek to the refrigerator, pulling out one beer and quickly heading out to the living room. "Anything left to do Amanda?"
"I think everything is pretty much cleaned up." Amanda said. "As a matter of fact I was getting ready to head out myself, early day tomorrow."
"Thanks for everything." Steve said helping her on with her coat.
Giving Steve a quick hug she said sternly. "Anything you or Mark need, you call me."
Giving his friend a genuine smile he replied. "Yes ma'am."
"I'm going to go out and say goodnight. See you later."
"Goodnight Amanda."
Mark and Jesse's conversation had trailed off, neither having anything else to say, simply taking comfort in each other's presence.
"Mark. Jesse." Amanda's gentle voice broke their revelry. "The kitchen is about put back in order, I'm getting ready to head out if you don't need anything else."
Both men turned and Mark gave Amanda a heartfelt hug. "Thanks so much honey...I didn't mean for you to clean up the kitchen. I guess we just kind of got lost for a while.
"Quite all right Mark." She replied with a smile. "You take care of yourself and I'll see you both on Monday."
"See you Amanda." Jesse said, giving her a hug.
As Amanda saw herself out Steve sat on the couch and watched out the patio door as his father and best friend turned back towards the ocean, watching in companiable silence as the last rays of the sun set on the horizon; sharing in an unspoken silence of understanding that he would never be a part.
TBA ?????
**I said it would be short, and I hope I conveyed the proper amount of Steve angst (I really wanted him to feel bad) and after rewriting it at least four times I gave up...the case story I have in mind is Steve wanting to understand what his father and Jess went through by taking an undercover assignment in prison!!!! Anyone that would like to share an idea for making Steve miserable---feel free!!** (