It Only Hurts When I Laugh
Chapter 2 – Things Can Only Get Better?
Steve awoke to a comforting softness under his cheek. He lay for a moment trying to decide if it was worth the effort to open his eyes. He heard the murmur of voices and was able to distinguish his father's. The unnatural anger and worry contained in his tone gave Steve the encouragement needed to open his bruised and swollen eyes. "Dad?"
"Yes, Son?" Mark responded.
"Are you alright?" Steve inquired.
The simpleness of the question was almost Mark's undoing. His emotions were hanging like a tattered flag in a hurricane. Watching his son being beaten had taken a toll and he was not fully in control. He squeezed his hands into fists and willed himself to calm down. "I'm fine, Son, we are more worried about you."
As Steve became more aware of his surroundings, he shifted his head slightly to try and determine what his head was resting on. A glance upward showed him the smiling face of Amanda. His head was cushioned on her lap.
"Hey, good looking," she intoned.
"Hey yourself, what's a knockout like you doing in a place like this?" he asked with a slight smile on his face.
"Why being your pillow, of course," she bantered back with more than a hint of sadness in her voice.
Steve's soft laugh turned into a strangled cough. "It only hurts when I laugh," he stated with a small amount of humor to his concerned father and friends.
Mark attempted a smile but was not completely successful. "Steve, we have to get you out of here. I've been considering our options and I think I have a plan."
"Dad, please, just leave things alone. I don't want any of you taking any chances."
"Steve, I will not stand by and watch them destroy you a piece at a time," Mark answered.
"Dad, Cheryl will get us out of here, you just have to be patient. It will take some time. Please don't try anything." The comment that remained unspoken between them was the fact that they both believed that Steve was marked for death no matter what happened.
Mark decided to let the issue drop for the moment but he fully intended to take whatever steps that were necessary to protect his son. He was not a violent man by nature, but he would not stand by and allow his son to be beaten again. He had discussed things with Jesse and Amanda and even though the plan was dangerous for all, they had eagerly agreed to it. He had to figure out a way to convince Steve and then wait for the right time.
Unaware of his father's thoughts Steve was taking a silent inventory of his new aches and pains. They had seemed to concentrate on his face this time. His lips were split and bleeding, and he had already recognized the swelling around his eyes when he had tried to open them. All in all it hadn't been that bad. If they had concentrated on his ribs and back again he doubted he would still be able to function. Though he felt wobbly he knew he had the reserves to take action when he needed to.
~~****~~
"What is taking so long?" Cheryl demanded.
"Detective Banks, we are doing the best that we can. You have been involved in these kinds of situations before and you know how they work. If you can't deal with this on a professional level rather than personal one, I will have you removed from the scene," explained the irritated hostage negotiator Simon Ward. "Do you understand?"
Cheryl dropped her head and drew a deep breath. How could this not be personal? They had her partner, her friend. She felt responsible for anything they might have done to him. She had played by the rules in trying to stall for time and she couldn't help but think that Steve had paid for that. She wanted, no she needed, to talk to him, to hear his voice.
~~****~~
"Steve, I need to explain to you what I want to try," offered Mark in a whisper.
"Dad….," Steve started.
Mark glanced towards the three men who stood gathered around the counter. They were engrossed in their conversation and for the moment appeared to have forgotten their hostages. "No, Steve, no arguments. I need you to listen to me."
Steve looked hard at his father. His voice though still soft had a quality he had not heard in a long time. Desperation. His intelligent, resourceful father never got desperate, he always just outsmarted everyone else. Steve could only recall one other time when he had heard the same tone in his father's voice. After he had been shot by Oz Tatum and Mark had been framed for murder by the Trainors, there had been another attempt on his life. He would never forget the sound of his father's voice when Amanda had passed him the phone that day in the pathology lab. He had not heard it again until today.
"I want you to request that they allow you to talk with the hostage negotiator face to face at the door. When he comes to the door, I am going to fake having a heart attack. Jesse and Amanda are going to make a break for the back of the restaurant. When that happens I want you to run as fast as you can out the door," Mark completed.
Steve's smile was laced with sadness. "Dad, you know I'm not going to do that. I could no more leave the three of you in here than you would leave me."
Mark knew his hand had been trumped. His always logical, protective son had outmaneuvered him. As he began to plot his next step, he cringed at the sound of Steve's phone ringing.
"You rang," Mike answered sarcastically.
Once again all the occupants of the room were left in the dark as to the purpose of the call. Steve lifted his head slightly off Amanda's lap and attempted to sit up. His efforts were aided by the ever present hands that surrounded him. As he rose to a sitting position, he noticed that Jay was staring intently at Amanda. He had seen that look before and he didn't like it. He felt abused muscles tense in anger and nearly gasped at the pain. No, you'll touch her over my dead body. His thoughts were interrupted by his name being called.
"Sloan, you're wanted on the phone, get over here," Mike ordered.
Steve attempted to rise to his feet and once again felt himself supported by tender hands. He smiled his thanks and motioned for them to stay where they were and then made his way over towards Mike. Mike handed the phone to Steve.
Steve shook his head. "That's going to be a little difficult with my hands cuffed."
'Jay?...Jay?...JAY!" Mike screamed.
"What?" was Jay's dull response.
"Uncuff our friend here," Mike said indicating Steve.
Jay reluctantly took his eyes away from Amanda, moved towards Steve and removed the cuffs.
Steve immediately grabbed his wrists and rubbed them vigorously. He then reached for the phone. "Sloan."
"Steve?" Cheryl said with an amazed tone. "I never dreamt they would let me talk with you."
"Hey, Partner," Steve replied. "How are things out there?"
"Tense, how are you?" she asked.
"Oh, I've been better. These three seem to enjoy their work," Steve answered.
"Ok, so there are three of them. Things got real intense when they took off from the bank. The officers on the scene weren't sure if there were two or three," Cheryl responded.
"How are things coming on their demands?" Steve inquired. He never got to hear her response as the phone was yanked from his hand.
"I'm very interested in that answer," Mike said as he covered the mouthpiece and placed the phone to his ear. He listened intently to the voice on the other end who still thought she was talking with Steve.
Steve tried to appear unconcerned but he knew what Cheryl was saying and it was confirmed by the changing expression on Mike's face. He covertly surveyed the room to determine if he could take action. His hands were free and he didn't know when that might happen again. Jay and Mike were in close proximity. Stan was standing close to the table were the others sat. He was slightly turned towards Steve and his fellow robbers. It's now or never, Steve thought. He made eye contact with his father in an attempt to communicate his intended action. He saw Mark's eyes widen and the slight almost imperceptible shake of his head. Steve knew the time had come when he heard Mike speak.
"Well, thank you for all this wonderful information. I feel so enlightened knowing all your plans."
As Mike began to close the phone, Steve moved. He shoved Mike in the back towards Jay at the same time he reached for the gun in Mike's belt. He didn't have time to notice that his father and Jesse had shoved the table at Stan successfully knocking him to the floor. They had moved to claim the gun that had skittered across the floor when a shot rang out. Everyone stopped as if frozen in place. Steve looked down to see Mike lying on the floor his gun pointed directly at Steve. It was then that Steve felt the sudden burning in his upper right arm and he realized his mistake. Mike had shot him with his own police issue revolver. How stupid could I be? He chastised himself.
"That was stupid, Cop. Drop the gun and step towards the counter," Mike ordered.
Steve looked and found that Stan had retrieved his gun and now had it trained on his father. Jay who had knocked his head on a chair when he went down was stirring and beginning to rise to his feet. He had no choice. With a sigh he laid the gun on the stool in front of him, and as he turned to face the counter a wave of dizziness overtook him and he nearly fell.
"Steve, what's wrong," was Mark's worried question.
Steve realized that they couldn't see the bullet wound in his right arm. "The bullet just grazed me a little, Dad, don't worry about it," Steve responded.
Mark stood and shoved Stan out of the way as he made his way towards his son.
"Sit down, old man," Mike ordered.
"I will NOT," Mark informed him briskly as he continued towards his son. "IF, you have a problem with that I suggest you shoot me now."
"DAD!" Steve yelled. "Please, don't!"
Mike stood staring at Mark with a look that Steve could only describe as respect. "Ok, go ahead. Jay cuff him again." When his request did not motivate movement he screamed the name again. "JAY! What is your problem? I said cuff him."
Jay moved towards Steve, grasped his hands and pulled them behind his back. Steve hissed as the motion pulled at the wound on his arm.
Mark stopped beside his son and looked into his eyes. The look they shared conveyed more than a book full of written words. It spoke of love, trust, respect and a lifetime of shared memories. The smile Steve gave his father was a gift like no other. It filled the clear blue eyes with a bright sparkle that was full of life. The bruises and cuts on his face could not diminish its affect. Mark smiled back with an equal brilliance that filled his son with a comforting peace.
"Can't you leave those off until I can check his arm out?" Mark asked
"Well, sure I could," Mike said as he paused for a moment. "But, I'm not going to," he said with an evil grin.
With a look at Mike that was full of venom, Mark then turned his attention back to his son. He gently guided him to a sitting position on one of the stools at the bar.
~~****~~
"They know everything," Cheryl informed Simon Ward.
"Don't worry about it, Banks. They had to know we weren't going to meet those kinds of demands," Ward explained.
"But they know that we are planning to make a move," Cheryl answered.
"Banks…," he paused. "Cheryl, it won't change what we need to do and you know that," Ward answered.
Her response was stalled by the sound of a gun being fired inside Bob's. "No!" she screamed as she headed towards the row of police cars that made up the perimeter.
~~****~~
Mark had convinced Mike to let him have some scissors and he had cut the sleeve of Steve's shirt away to reveal an angry looking wound in the upper portion of Steve's right arm; it had gone straight through the fleshy part of the bicep. He had bandaged it as best he could and Steve had tolerated his ministrations with little outward reaction to the pain he knew he was inflicting.
~~****~~
Cheryl stopped as she reached the cars and felt a trembling invade her legs. Her emotions were on edge. She felt like so much of this was her fault. The urge to rush into the building was overwhelming. She felt a hand rest on her shoulder and looked up into the concerned eyes of Simon Ward.
"Cheryl, I know you feel responsible for some of the things that have happened however untrue that may be, but I need you here, you're one of the best officers the department has and that's what its going to take to get those people out of there alive. If you are going to continue to react emotionally rather than rationally than I will have no choice but to send you home. Is that understood?" Simon Ward completed.
The words hit home and Cheryl knew he was right. "I'm ok," she responded. "I promise I can handle this."
~~****~~
"Let's separate them. If the police do decide to move in I want us spread out. Jay you take our cop friend and the little lady to the back. Stan and I will stay out here with Pops and his doctor friend." Mike ordered.
Steve's head jerked up. The thought of Jay anywhere close to Amanda sent his instincts into overdrive. He saw her moving towards him with concern filling her doe brown eyes and a gentle smile on her face. She stopped beside him and placed her small hand on his arm. He returned her smile and attempted to rise but was once again beset by dizziness. He felt not only her steadying hand but the strength of her presence and it helped to stabilize him. They walked side by side each comforted by the other to the kitchen area of the restaurant.
~~****~~
"Mike, you look tired why don't you come back here and sit down?" Mark asked.
"Why, so you can try and talk me in to letting you all go?" Mike responded with a smile.
"No, I'm merely concerned about a man who is tired holding a gun on me. Your friend Stan appears to be perfectly capable of keeping us under control," Mark answered.
Mike stood contemplating the offer for a moment. He was tired. Bone weary actually. He had been holding everything together since this entire fiasco had started. He looked towards Stan to see him intently watching their two hostages. Maybe it won't hurt if I sit down, for just a minute. His decision made he moved towards the table Mark and Jesse shared and sat down.
"So tell me, what are all of you doing in a restaurant that is closed?" Mike asked.
"My son, Jesse, and I own it. We were going to have some work done so we closed for the day," Mark responded.
"So other than the cop you are all doctor's right?" Mike asked
"Yes, we all work at Community General Hospital," Jesse responded.
"I know that hospital, my mom died there," he informed them.
"I'm sorry to hear that," Mark responded. "What happened to her?"
"My old man shot her," Mike responded in an emotionless voice.
"Wow, that must have been horrible," Jesse spoke quietly.
"Naw, actually it was probably a blessing. It let her escape from the almost daily beatings he gave her," Mike responded in a matter of fact tone.
"I'm sorry, Mike," Mark replied sincerely. The man that sat before him had been formed by the life that he had led. It didn't make his actions right, but it at least explained a little about who he was.
~~****~~
Amanda and Steve sat on the floor side by side. Steve was leaning back against the wall as far as his cuffed hands would allow and Amanda was nestled into his left side. She took care not to lean into him too much in deference to his abused body, but she craved the comfort of human contact. Jay made her skin crawl. He had a way of looking at her that made her feel naked and unclean. She knew Steve was experiencing similar misgivings. As they had settled onto the floor, he had whispered as much to her. As Jay moved towards them she moved closer to Steve, and he hunched forward in an attempt to embrace her. As Jay drew close enough he leaned in and struck Steve in the side of the head with the gun then before she could react he did the same to Amanda.
