Chapter Six – Frequent Patient Discount

Steve's first awareness was a dryness in his throat, followed quickly by a pounding in his head that was keeping time with the thumping in his ribs.  He went to raise his right hand to his head and nearly yelped as it joined in with the rest of the ensemble.  He lay there for a minute, until his arm stopped twitching and then decided to brave opening his eyes.  The light in the room was dim and he was grateful, because even that made him squint.  He was in the familiar confines of Community General.  There are so many things that are wrong with a hospital room being familiar, he thought to himself.  He was alone so that must mean his injuries weren't too bad.  If that's the case, then it shouldn't matter if I get up.  He moved to push his hands against the bed to sit up and then remembered the protest his right arm had made earlier.  He settled with bracing his left elbow against the bed and shoving himself up.  His head, arm and ribs all announced their displeasure with this move.  He felt a brief flare of nausea, but pushed it back down.  He slid his legs over the side of the bed, and sat for a moment to regain his composure.  Breathing as deeply as his protesting ribs would allow, he waited for his body to adjust to its new position.  He then pressed his feet flatly on the floor and stood up.  His venture into the upright world was not welcomed by his legs and they quickly buckled.  Hello floor, Steve thought to himself as his cheek nestled onto the cold hard tile.

"What on earth are you doing?" two voices asked in unison.

"I was hired by the hospital to inspect the wax job."  Steve knew the sarcastic comment would have been more impressive had he not been lying on the floor feeling a cold breeze make its way through the back of his hospital gown.

"Well, I would have thought you had enough to do investigating murders," was his father's rather irritated response. 

"Do you need help getting up?" Jesse inquired.

"Why no, I kinda like it here, I wouldn't dream of getting up," was Steve's overly sweet response. 

Jesse and Mark moved on opposite sides and began to assist him up.  Steve couldn't prevent the moan of pain that escaped him as his ribs and arm made contact with the helping hands.

"I'm sorry, Son, but maybe you'll stay in bed next time."

"I don't plan on there being a next time," Steve gasped as he settled back into the bed.

"Well, we all know you've never been good at planning," Jesse responded.

The glare Steve threw his way amused Jesse.  "I'm not worried; you're in no condition to back that look up."

As his pains eased and his breathing settled Steve ventured a question.  "So, what's the damage?"

"I think you've already been made intimately aware of them all, but I can make formal introductions if you'd like," Jesse answered.

"Cute, none of them hurt me as bad as your attempts at humor," Steve responded.

Jesse placed his hand over his heart.  "You wound me, all I'm trying to do is bring a little joy into your other wise dreary life."

Mark shook his head slightly and grinned.  "You've got a moderate concussion, a couple of cracked ribs and a deep tissue bruise on your right arm.  What did he hit you with?"

"His fists."

"Wow, he must have been one big, tough cookie to have done that much damage with his fists," Jesse said.

"Big is an understatement," Steve replied.  "He could have had his own zip code."

Mark chuckled lightly.  "Alex was really upset, she just left about an hour ago."

"Was she alright?" Steve asked.

"Yes, she said she would be by tomorrow," Mark replied.

"By the house right?  I'm not going to be here tomorrow," Steve responded.

"You do the police work, and we'll do the doctoring," Jesse responded while gesturing towards himself and Mark.

"Yeah right, like that ever happens," Steve replied.  "Please tell me they arrested the guy who did this."

"No, by the time the patrol car got there he was gone, but they did put an APB out on him," Mark answered.

"Well, he should be easy to spot," Steve said.  "Now, when can I go home?"

"Geez, you act like we don't take good care of you," Jesse answered.  "You should be fine to go home tomorrow."

"Great, I need to go interview Jacob Sherrard's employer."

"Ok, at no time did I say anything about going to work, I said home.  I know they are both four letter words, I realize what few remaining brain cells you have left got rattled around, but the two words sound nothing alike," Jesse responded.  "If I think you aren't going to go home and rest, I'll just keep you here."

"Fine, you win.  Are the files still at the house?"

Jesse threw up his hands in exasperation.  "Mark, I know my lips are moving, but apparently there aren't any words coming out of my mouth, or they just aren't reaching his ears."

"It's called selective listening, Jess, it takes years to perfect, if you get me out of here tomorrow I might be willing to teach it to you," Steve said with a smile.

"Home only, no work, we'll talk later about the selective listening thing, right now I want you to try and get some sleep."

"Alright.  Dad, be careful going home and I'll see you in the morning, goodnight, Jesse, and thanks."

"I will, Son, sleep well."

"Night, Steve, I'll see you in the morning," Jesse responded as he closed the door behind himself and Mark.

………………..

Jesse cautiously pushed open the door, and peeked in.  The lump in the bed didn't stir so he moved into the room and approached the bed.  The lump was facing him and appeared to be sleeping deeply, thus the hand that reached out and grabbed his arm startled him so completely that a high pitched shriek escaped him before he could prevent it.  The blanket on the lump rose and fell with laughter, until the tender ribs protested and ceased that activity.

Holding a tender arm to equally sensitive ribs Steve made no attempt to hide the smile on his face.  "A little jumpy this morning, aren't we?"

"That was not funny in so many ways," Jesse informed him. 

"I don't know, I enjoyed it," Steve responded with a grin.

"Obviously you are feeling better," Jesse replied.

"Yes, and I am ready to go home."

"Well, let me put on my shock face at that little revelation," Jesse responded sarcastically.

"Put on whatever face you want, just get me out of here."

"I can do that, as long as you remember that you have a rather short list of approved activities once you get there."

"I'm not a child, Jesse, I know my limitations," Steve replied.

Jesse tilted his head to one side and observed his patient.  "That knock to the head must have affected you more adversely than I thought; your memories of past events have been altered."

Steve's brows drew into a frown.  "What do you mean?"

"I mean you never follow the instructions I give you."

"I try, Jesse, I really do, but sometimes things just happen," a slightly chastised Steve responded.

"Well, let's see if we can cut down on those 'things' this time, ok?"

"I'll make sure he follows your instructions," Mark added from the doorway.

…………………

Steve had ventured out onto the deck to observe the activities on the beach.  He was leaning rather stiffly against the railing.  The sound of a throat being cleared behind him drew his attention and he turned around.  "Hello, Alex,"

"Steve, how are you feeling?"

"A little sore and stiff but other than that, not to bad."

She moved towards him and stopped close enough to touch him, but refrained.  "I was really scared; you hit your head awfully hard.  It made a horrible noise, sorta like slapping a dead fish on a table."

"Well, thanks for that little piece of visual imagery.  I can tell you it didn't feel real good either."

Alex giggled slightly.  "I really am sorry, I go there all the time and nothing like that has ever happened.  That was the first time I have ever seen that guy."

"Alex, it's ok, I'm fine, nothing that time won't heal."

Her smile was pure sunshine, and he found himself grinning along.  "Thanks, for not being mad, so what kind of information can you give me?" Alex asked.

Steve busted out laughing.  "Well, that didn't take long!"

Alex opened her mouth to respond but was halted when her phone rang.  "Hello.  Oh, hi, David."

Steve watched her, intently trying to determine from her conversation who David was.

"I'll be back in the office later, right now I'm talking with Steve Sloan."  As she listened to the response to that statement her brow furrowed, when she responded there was a hint of irritation in her voice.  "David, I told you it wasn't that way; I'll talk to you later, bye."

"Problems?" Steve asked.

"No, just one of the administrative staff at the paper," she replied.  "So?"

"Alex, there is not a lot I can tell you, I don't have a suspect and I haven't found any firm connections between the victims," Steve replied.

"That may not be true," Mark added as he joined them on the deck.

He was rewarded with mirrored looks of shock on Steve and Alex's faces.