Note: Before you read this chapter I just wanted to let you know that this story is going to deal mostly with Steve's emotions concerning this phobia.
For those who don't have this type of fear you wouldn't understand how very terrifying it can be. I have it so bad that I have to have hand rails just to use a step stool. I also wanted to bring out more of Mark and Steve's relationship as father and son. I hope that you enjoy the rest of the story and also thanks to those who have given me very kind reviews.
Chapter Two
Steve sat in his truck for a long time trying to work up enough courage to go inside the house. He knew before he could escape to his part of the house that his father would probably waylay him and demand to have that little talk he promised back in the ER. Steve knew his father would understand and letting him know what happened wasn't the problem. It was facing it himself that he was having a hard time with. Steve knew that his Dad would be supportive, as always. Steve on the other hand couldn't quite forgive himself for the fear that seemed to plague him. He couldn't help but feel like a failure for letting Edwards get away. The little punk was responsible for six robberies in the last seven months and each time that Steve had managed to catch up to him the thief managed to escape by going over a roof top, and jumping over to the next. Once he made his escape good he would turn to Steve and give him that stupid salute. It was as if he knew Steve had a fear of heights, and he was mocking the detective.
Coming out of his thoughts Steve knew he had to go into the house before his father came out and got him. Reluctantly he made his way to the door and sure enough there was his dad greeting him with a smile.
"I was about to come and check on you. I thought that maybe something was wrong. You are alright aren't you?" Mark scrutinized his son carefully trying to read his mood.
Mark knew in order to get at the bottom of what ever was on Steve's mind he would have to approach him carefully. He knew that Lenny Edwards had been a thorn in his son's side for quite some time now. He could just about guess the cause for Steve's foul mood. This wasn't the first time that the petty little thief had caused his son to shut off everyone and become distant with thoughs who loved and cared about him.
"I'm fine Dad. I just want to go down and take a shower and get cleaned up." Steve headed for the stairs that lead to his apartment below when he suddenly turned towards his dad and said. "You know Dad I'm not very hungry and I really am tired. Do you mind if I skip dinner and just go on to bed?"
"Yes I do mind and no you may not skip dinner. You and I are going to have a talk so just get cleaned up and be careful not to get that hand wet. I expect you back up here washed and ready for dinner in about thirty minutes. If you don't show I'll come and get you." Mark looked his son right in the eye and not once blinked as he said all of this. Steve knew better than to defy his dad at this point. They were going to have this conversation no matter how bad he wanted to avoid it.
Mark knew that Steve needed help to come to terms with what happened today. Before he had just become moody for a few days and everyone walked on eggshells around him until the mood disappeared. However, today Steve had let his anger and frustration get the better of him and it caused him to do harm to himself and that was something that Mark was not ready to allow his son to get away with.
Steve walked down to his apartment and began preparations for a shower. He felt just like he did as a kid when he knew his father was about to get a hold of him for something that he had done wrong. Even though he was a grown man his father could still make him shiver with dread at what was to come when he looked and talked to him the way he had just then. With a sigh Steve hurried to finish cleaning up. The last thing he wanted was for his father to come and get him if he was late.
When Steve came into the dinning room he saw that his father was putting the last of the meal onto the table. It was time to face the music and so with a determined look on his face and an attitude to go with it he made his way over to the table. He was going to stand his ground and if he didn't feel like talking about today then he wasn't, however when he got to the table he looked at his father's face and saw that expression. Suddenly he was back to being a kid again, unable to defy his father or escape any admonishment that would come his way.
Both father and son sat down to the table together and started to eat in silence. Suddenly Mark looked over at his son and noticed that Steve was just staring at his plate with a frown on his face. At first not realizing what was troubling his son he spoke up and said. "It's just a steak son. I only marinated it overnight in the refrigerator. I didn't do anything weird to it as you like to call it."
"I know Dad and I'm sure it's good I just don't...." Steve stumbled around looking more helpless now. He glanced at his hand and even though it was his right hand he didn't know how he was going to cut up the meat on his plate with just one hand.
Mark suddenly realized his son's dilemma and quickly apologized reaching for Steve's plate. "I'm sorry son. When I put the steaks in to marinate last night you still had two good hands. I forgot about you not being able to cut it up. I'll cut it up for you so that you can enjoy your meal." Mark started to cut up Steve's steak into manageable pieces so that he could eat it with no further difficulty. Not thinking about it he cut into a couple of rolls and buttered them for his son also just like he use to when Steve was a little boy.
Steve watched as his father prepared his food for him. Maybe Jesse was right. He was certainly feeling like a two-year-old at the moment. He knew it was because he had thrown a tantrum that he was unable to eat his meal without assistance from his father.
"Thanks Dad. It smells really good. Thanks for the rolls too." Steve picked up his fork and started to eat appreciating how good everything tasted.
Both father and son ate for the most part in silence. One waiting for what was to come and the other trying to control his impulse to just get to the bottom of the whole problem. Finally after they had finished eating Mark laid his fork down and fixed his son with a stare. Steve could feel his father's eyes on him and with great reluctance he forced his own eyes up to meat those of his father's. With some effort Steve swallowed what was in his mouth and waited for what his father had to say to him. Steve put his hands in his lap and prepared himself for the lecture he was sure he was about to receive.
When Steve finally looked up, what Mark saw broke his heart. He could see so many emotions of guilt, despair, fear, and humiliation. None of them were warranted. Steve was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders and Mark just wanted to lift it from him. Suddenly he was standing next to Steve pulling him up into an embrace. Expecting his son to fight him, he was very surprised when Steve just fell into it and without any warning he was sobbing on his father's shoulders. Mark held him for some time rubbing him on his back and whispering in his ear trying to sooth his son. After a few minutes both men pulled apart. Mark held on to Steve's arms and peered into his son's face smiling at him. Steve tried to avoid his father's look too embarrassed at breaking down like he did in front of him.
"Look at me Steve." Marked coaxed taking hold of Steve's face and forcing him to look at him. "I think I know what happened today. We really need to talk."
"I know Dad. I really need too. I feel like I'm loosing control over this whole thing. Maybe I just need to find something else to do. How good of a cop am I if I keep letting this guy get away because I'm afraid of heights?" Steve spoke barely above a whisper.
"Steve you can't let this dictate your future. Lot's of people have phobias. Some are easier to hide than others. This does not make you a bad cop." Mark tried to assure Steve with his words.
Before he could go on the phone rang and reluctantly Mark left his son standing alone to answer it. Steve couldn't hear all that was being said but he gathered by the way that his father glanced at him it was about him. While his father continued to talk on the phone Steve decided to clear the table and began stacking the dishes in the sink. Before Mark hung up the phone Steve had managed to clear the table and put away the left over food. He then started rinsing the dishes when he felt the presence of his father behind him. Turning around he sighed and asked.
"Let me guess, was that about me?" He looked at his father trying to read what was there.
"It was Captain Newman. He said that you were rather evasive about the injury to your hand. It seems the only thing you could confirm for him was that you lost Lenny Edwards again. Steve he is concerned about you." Mark tried to sooth the feathers that he could see ruffling.
"He's concerned that this creep gets away and it looks like I'm just standing around with my hands in my pockets. How does it look for some two-bit thief with a 9th grade education out smarting one of LA's finest?" Steve threw down the dishtowel he had been torturing onto the counter and stalked out of the kitchen.
Mark was not going to let his son shut him out so he followed him out to the deck. Taking Steve by the arm he forced his son to turn and look at him. "Whether you want to believe it or not they do care Steve, and if you talk to them they will understand. "
"No they won't Dad. They'll just look at me and see some weakling that doesn't deserve to carry a badge. I can't talk to them. I don't think I could even face them." Steve sounded so dejected and depressed that Mark couldn't help but be worried about him.
With a sigh Mark shocked his son with his next announcement. "It doesn't matter anyway. You're meeting with Newman and Masters in the morning at nine." Mark turned to leave and just as he got to the door he turned to Steve and added. "Oh, and by the way I have been requested to attend the meeting. And you will be there. You can't run away from this anymore. It's time you admitted to them about your fear. It's only fair to them son. Go on and get some rest. I'll see you in the morning." Mark left Steve standing there with his mouth open. How did it get this far?
For those who don't have this type of fear you wouldn't understand how very terrifying it can be. I have it so bad that I have to have hand rails just to use a step stool. I also wanted to bring out more of Mark and Steve's relationship as father and son. I hope that you enjoy the rest of the story and also thanks to those who have given me very kind reviews.
Chapter Two
Steve sat in his truck for a long time trying to work up enough courage to go inside the house. He knew before he could escape to his part of the house that his father would probably waylay him and demand to have that little talk he promised back in the ER. Steve knew his father would understand and letting him know what happened wasn't the problem. It was facing it himself that he was having a hard time with. Steve knew that his Dad would be supportive, as always. Steve on the other hand couldn't quite forgive himself for the fear that seemed to plague him. He couldn't help but feel like a failure for letting Edwards get away. The little punk was responsible for six robberies in the last seven months and each time that Steve had managed to catch up to him the thief managed to escape by going over a roof top, and jumping over to the next. Once he made his escape good he would turn to Steve and give him that stupid salute. It was as if he knew Steve had a fear of heights, and he was mocking the detective.
Coming out of his thoughts Steve knew he had to go into the house before his father came out and got him. Reluctantly he made his way to the door and sure enough there was his dad greeting him with a smile.
"I was about to come and check on you. I thought that maybe something was wrong. You are alright aren't you?" Mark scrutinized his son carefully trying to read his mood.
Mark knew in order to get at the bottom of what ever was on Steve's mind he would have to approach him carefully. He knew that Lenny Edwards had been a thorn in his son's side for quite some time now. He could just about guess the cause for Steve's foul mood. This wasn't the first time that the petty little thief had caused his son to shut off everyone and become distant with thoughs who loved and cared about him.
"I'm fine Dad. I just want to go down and take a shower and get cleaned up." Steve headed for the stairs that lead to his apartment below when he suddenly turned towards his dad and said. "You know Dad I'm not very hungry and I really am tired. Do you mind if I skip dinner and just go on to bed?"
"Yes I do mind and no you may not skip dinner. You and I are going to have a talk so just get cleaned up and be careful not to get that hand wet. I expect you back up here washed and ready for dinner in about thirty minutes. If you don't show I'll come and get you." Mark looked his son right in the eye and not once blinked as he said all of this. Steve knew better than to defy his dad at this point. They were going to have this conversation no matter how bad he wanted to avoid it.
Mark knew that Steve needed help to come to terms with what happened today. Before he had just become moody for a few days and everyone walked on eggshells around him until the mood disappeared. However, today Steve had let his anger and frustration get the better of him and it caused him to do harm to himself and that was something that Mark was not ready to allow his son to get away with.
Steve walked down to his apartment and began preparations for a shower. He felt just like he did as a kid when he knew his father was about to get a hold of him for something that he had done wrong. Even though he was a grown man his father could still make him shiver with dread at what was to come when he looked and talked to him the way he had just then. With a sigh Steve hurried to finish cleaning up. The last thing he wanted was for his father to come and get him if he was late.
When Steve came into the dinning room he saw that his father was putting the last of the meal onto the table. It was time to face the music and so with a determined look on his face and an attitude to go with it he made his way over to the table. He was going to stand his ground and if he didn't feel like talking about today then he wasn't, however when he got to the table he looked at his father's face and saw that expression. Suddenly he was back to being a kid again, unable to defy his father or escape any admonishment that would come his way.
Both father and son sat down to the table together and started to eat in silence. Suddenly Mark looked over at his son and noticed that Steve was just staring at his plate with a frown on his face. At first not realizing what was troubling his son he spoke up and said. "It's just a steak son. I only marinated it overnight in the refrigerator. I didn't do anything weird to it as you like to call it."
"I know Dad and I'm sure it's good I just don't...." Steve stumbled around looking more helpless now. He glanced at his hand and even though it was his right hand he didn't know how he was going to cut up the meat on his plate with just one hand.
Mark suddenly realized his son's dilemma and quickly apologized reaching for Steve's plate. "I'm sorry son. When I put the steaks in to marinate last night you still had two good hands. I forgot about you not being able to cut it up. I'll cut it up for you so that you can enjoy your meal." Mark started to cut up Steve's steak into manageable pieces so that he could eat it with no further difficulty. Not thinking about it he cut into a couple of rolls and buttered them for his son also just like he use to when Steve was a little boy.
Steve watched as his father prepared his food for him. Maybe Jesse was right. He was certainly feeling like a two-year-old at the moment. He knew it was because he had thrown a tantrum that he was unable to eat his meal without assistance from his father.
"Thanks Dad. It smells really good. Thanks for the rolls too." Steve picked up his fork and started to eat appreciating how good everything tasted.
Both father and son ate for the most part in silence. One waiting for what was to come and the other trying to control his impulse to just get to the bottom of the whole problem. Finally after they had finished eating Mark laid his fork down and fixed his son with a stare. Steve could feel his father's eyes on him and with great reluctance he forced his own eyes up to meat those of his father's. With some effort Steve swallowed what was in his mouth and waited for what his father had to say to him. Steve put his hands in his lap and prepared himself for the lecture he was sure he was about to receive.
When Steve finally looked up, what Mark saw broke his heart. He could see so many emotions of guilt, despair, fear, and humiliation. None of them were warranted. Steve was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders and Mark just wanted to lift it from him. Suddenly he was standing next to Steve pulling him up into an embrace. Expecting his son to fight him, he was very surprised when Steve just fell into it and without any warning he was sobbing on his father's shoulders. Mark held him for some time rubbing him on his back and whispering in his ear trying to sooth his son. After a few minutes both men pulled apart. Mark held on to Steve's arms and peered into his son's face smiling at him. Steve tried to avoid his father's look too embarrassed at breaking down like he did in front of him.
"Look at me Steve." Marked coaxed taking hold of Steve's face and forcing him to look at him. "I think I know what happened today. We really need to talk."
"I know Dad. I really need too. I feel like I'm loosing control over this whole thing. Maybe I just need to find something else to do. How good of a cop am I if I keep letting this guy get away because I'm afraid of heights?" Steve spoke barely above a whisper.
"Steve you can't let this dictate your future. Lot's of people have phobias. Some are easier to hide than others. This does not make you a bad cop." Mark tried to assure Steve with his words.
Before he could go on the phone rang and reluctantly Mark left his son standing alone to answer it. Steve couldn't hear all that was being said but he gathered by the way that his father glanced at him it was about him. While his father continued to talk on the phone Steve decided to clear the table and began stacking the dishes in the sink. Before Mark hung up the phone Steve had managed to clear the table and put away the left over food. He then started rinsing the dishes when he felt the presence of his father behind him. Turning around he sighed and asked.
"Let me guess, was that about me?" He looked at his father trying to read what was there.
"It was Captain Newman. He said that you were rather evasive about the injury to your hand. It seems the only thing you could confirm for him was that you lost Lenny Edwards again. Steve he is concerned about you." Mark tried to sooth the feathers that he could see ruffling.
"He's concerned that this creep gets away and it looks like I'm just standing around with my hands in my pockets. How does it look for some two-bit thief with a 9th grade education out smarting one of LA's finest?" Steve threw down the dishtowel he had been torturing onto the counter and stalked out of the kitchen.
Mark was not going to let his son shut him out so he followed him out to the deck. Taking Steve by the arm he forced his son to turn and look at him. "Whether you want to believe it or not they do care Steve, and if you talk to them they will understand. "
"No they won't Dad. They'll just look at me and see some weakling that doesn't deserve to carry a badge. I can't talk to them. I don't think I could even face them." Steve sounded so dejected and depressed that Mark couldn't help but be worried about him.
With a sigh Mark shocked his son with his next announcement. "It doesn't matter anyway. You're meeting with Newman and Masters in the morning at nine." Mark turned to leave and just as he got to the door he turned to Steve and added. "Oh, and by the way I have been requested to attend the meeting. And you will be there. You can't run away from this anymore. It's time you admitted to them about your fear. It's only fair to them son. Go on and get some rest. I'll see you in the morning." Mark left Steve standing there with his mouth open. How did it get this far?