The highway patrolman led Isaiah straight to Northridge hospital. It was the closest and time was of an essence. Isaiah barely screeched to a halt before he jumped from the front and jerked the back door open. As he reached into the car to haul the younger man out he felt a hand on his shoulder. When he looked up two orderlies were standing ready to remove Steve from the seat and place him on a gurney. He quickly stepped to the side and let the men do their job. Once inside, Isaiah and Emma hovered by the door that Steve had disappeared through hoping and praying that the next time they saw the doctor he would have something positive to tell them.
The highway patrolman walked up to the old couple, led them over to a row of chairs and began to gently question them about the man they had just brought in to be treated for a gunshot wound. Isaiah began to explain that Steve was a police officer with the LAPD when a nurse suddenly appeared and handed Emma a small plastic sack and told her that these were her son's personal belongings. Emma accepted the bag with shaking hands and thanked the nurse politely. She sat quietly while Isaiah told the patrolman that Steve had been shot at their place and that he and Emma had tried to get him here as fast as they could.
She only half listened as the patrolman continued to question Isaiah about the shooting. Very carefully opening the bag Emma took out Steve's wallet and badge. Gently she ran her fingers over the gold of the shield tracing the numbers and letters with her fingers. Holding the cold metal to her lips, she silently began to cry.
She had known that somehow this young man would break her heart. It never occurred to her that it would be like this. She hadn't felt so alone or helpless since they got word that Robbie had been shot and killed.
She stared down in her lap and picked up the wallet and looked inside. The life of Steve Sloan was all laid out in pictures and clippings. She had opened the small leather case once before but hadn't wanted to pry into what was not her business. Now she wanted to know everything she could about the young man who had wormed his way into her heart. Two pictures caught her eye first. One was of a white-haired gentleman and very attractive blonde woman. They were dressed in clothes that told her that both were probably at some fancy party. He was wearing a tuxedo and she wore a dark blue formal that went to the floor. Emma turned the picture over and read: 'Mom and Dad at the awards dinner for Dad.'
She stared at the picture for a while realizing that this was his father and mother. Looking at the man first, she saw those same blue eyes and that same cut of his chin. Steve had definitely inherited his mother's smile. Fresh and beautiful, the woman looked at her husband adoringly. These were the people responsible for that fine young man's character and values, and now he lay behind those doors fighting for his life.
Very gently, Emma replaced the picture where she found it and retrieved the second one. Her eyes scanned the two people who were smiling at her and she could see that it was a slightly younger version of Steve. His arm was around the waist of the pretty blonde woman standing next to him and both were looking very elegant in their formal attire. She turned over the picture and saw written on the back, 'Me and Carol at the awards banquet for Dad.'
She had heard Steve mention that he had a sister named Carol who had died. Emma studied the picture for several minutes. Yes, this must be her for she had those same blue eyes as her father and brother. She carefully replaced the pictures back into the wallet and continued her search.
A folded piece of paper turned out to be a pay check for Steve Sloan. It was the check from the police department. 'He must have been goin' to put it in the bank when we busted in there,' she thought. She folded the paper back up and placed it where she had found it. Continuing her search, Emma noticed two small pieces of paper tucked away in the corner of the wallet. Both had been laminated and appeared to be obituaries. One looked like it was a little yellowed so she read that one first. It was for a Katherine Elizabeth Sloan, wife of Dr. Mark Sloan. Mother to Steven Michael and Carol Elizabeth Sloan.
She read the next one and it was for his sister Carol. These two tiny articles told her so much about the young man that she had lost her heart too. She could feel how much he loved and missed these women who had been a big part of his life. For him to carry these clippings with him all the time showed he wanted to keep them close to his heart.
Once again she replaced the tiny pieces back exactly where she had found them. Her search now only turned up the various credit cards. Social security card. In case of an Emergency card. She stopped suddenly and took a close look at the last card. In Case Of Emergency. She scanned the card closely. Contact: Dr. Mark Sloan. Several numbers were listed underneath along with an address in Malibu.
"Isaiah. Look at this. This is that boy's daddy. We need to call him right away and let him know that his son is hurt." Emma was pulling at her husband's arm.
"His name wouldn't be Steve Sloan would it, Ma'am?" The officer asked as he caught a glimpse of the card that Emma was holding up for them to see.
"Yes it is. Can you help us get a hold of his daddy? I think he needs to be here." Emma looked at the officer pleadingly.
"I'll take care of it, Ma'am." The officer moved off and started to make some phone calls while Emma and Isaiah waited for someone to come and tell them about Steve.
DM
Mark sat and rubbed his eyes. They were tired and burning from too little sleep and too much staring at the map laid out in front of him on the desk. He was getting so frustrated. Usually he could figure things out on any given case. Now though, when his son needed him the most, all he could see were dots and dashes that represented roads and landmarks. Suddenly, the phone rang and snapped him out of his musing.
"Mark Sloan." He realized that he probably sounded a little too anxious when he answered.
"Mark, this is Jim Newman. I have word on Steve. He's alive but he's been hurt. I'm not sure how bad because the officer that called didn't really know anything yet. He's been taken to Northridge and one of my men should be arriving in just a minute to pick you up. I'm leaving now and I'll meet you there . Are you ok?" Newman knew he had talked fast but he wanted to tell the doctor everything he could quickly before he headed over to the hospital.
Mark sat in complete silence while the patrolman drove him to the hospital where his son had been taken. So many things kept running through his mind. Could he have been wrong about the old couple? Had his son been in danger all this time and he didn't know it? He was feeling guilty because he hadn't been able to find his son before now.
Half way to the hospital Mark realized that he needed to call Jesse and let him know that Steve was being treated at Northridge. By the time he had gotten a hold of his friend and explained the situation to him, they were pulling up in front of the hospital. Mark quickly exited the car and hurried through the doors in hopes of finding the familiar face of Steve's Captain. Mark, running along the hallway, turned a corner and nearly collided into the object of his search. Newman reached out with both hands to steady the concerned father before he was knocked to the floor.
"Have you seen or heard about Steve yet?" Mark searched Newman's face for any sign of what the news might be.
"He's in surgery. He took a bullet in the upper right shoulder. The wound itself wasn't serious but he lost an awful lot of blood. The nurse said that the doctor would be right out as soon as they were finished with him. All we can do for now is wait. I'm going to make a call to the chief. I think you should talk with that couple over there. They brought Steve in and they will be able to tell you what happened." Newman stopped the tired father as he walked towards the old couple. "Mark, you should know that they are the ones who took him from the bank."
Turning towards the Tanners, Mark slowly walked over and pulled a chair up in front of them so that he could talk with them. They looked up as he sat down and he could see tears on the woman's face and genuine concern in the eyes of the gentleman.
"I'm Mark Sloan. Steve is my son. Can you tell me what happened?" Mark asked.
"Steve and I had gone out to the back of the house. I cain't say that we exactly heard anythin' but we both had a feelin' that somethin' just wasn't right. Your boy went to the barn and I went to the wooded part back behind our place. Out of nowhere a shot was fired and when I spun around I saw your boy crumblin' to the ground. I went to him as quick as I could and carried him back to the house. I didn't see or hear nobody. We waited for a few minutes to see if there was goin' to be any more shootin'. I didn't hear none so I got the car and me and Emma got him here as fast as we could. I'm so sorry, Doctor Sloan. If'n' we hadn't taken him he wouldn't have got hurt. It's all our fault." Isaiah hung his head again ashamed of what their actions had caused.
Emma handed the bag she had been holding to Mark. "The nurse brought this out earlier and said it was his personal things that was on him when we brought him in. I found your number in there and I told that officer over there to call you. I'm so sorry. We never wanted anythin' to happen to your son." Tears once again began to fall down her face. Mark could tell that her heart was breaking.
No one said a word for several minutes when suddenly Emma looked up at Mark and smiled. "When that nurse brought me his things she handed me the bag and said these belonged to my son." Smiling sweetly at Mark she continued softly. "She thought he was my child. For a little while I pretended he was." She grew quiet once again and the tears continued to fall down her face.
Mark reached out to touch her hand wanting to give her a little comfort. When his fingers grasped at her wrist he realized that the couple had been handcuffed together. He looked at them puzzled.
"They aim to charge us for kidnappin' your son and holdin' up that bank. We did wrong so it's only right that we should pay for it. We just asked that they let us stay until we hear about Steve. That man on the phone over there said we could. He seems pretty nice. Is he friends of y'all's?" Isaiah asked.
"He's Steve's boss. He comes off gruff sometimes, but yes, he is a nice man." Mark looked towards Newman as he settled in to wait for word on his son.
About two hours later, a very weary looking doctor made his way towards the little group who were gathered in the corner of the waiting room. As he approached, all four people stood up and waited for the news. He smiled at them hoping that it would help to reassure them of what he was about to say.
"Which one of you is Dr. Sloan?"
"I am. I'm Steve's father. How is he?" Mark stepped up and took the hand that the other doctor had extended to him.
"I'm Dr. Drayer. Steve is doing fine. He's in intensive care at the moment but I feel he'll be out of there in a day or so. The bullet went in pretty deep, and there was a lot of muscle damage. With some physical therapy that should be fine. I'm concerned though about the nerve damage to that shoulder and arm. I don't think it will be a problem but at this time I can't say. He lost a lot of blood. I mean a lot. We had to give him two units just to stabilize him.
"He's got a breathing tube. He's just too weak from the loss of blood right now to breathe on his own. His vital signs are stable and seem to be getting stronger. He's in excellent physical shape. His condition is considered stable but guarded. As you know Dr. Sloan, the next 24 hours are important. I don't have to tell you what could happen.
"We are concerned about infection but with the antibiotics we might have that nipped before it gets a good hold on him. He is running a low-grade fever but that isn't all that uncommon, as you know. Right now, our main concern is the blood loss. If you would like to see him he's around the corner and to your right. I'll check in on him later." Mark reached out and shook the doctor's hand thanking him for all that he had done for his son.
Without hesitation and not waiting for the others, Mark made his way towards where his son was being watched closely.
He took a deep breath and willed himself to stay steady. He knew what to expect since he had seen it many times before with other patients. Slowly and quietly he made his way into the room of glass.
Monitors were set up all around the bed attached someway or another to his son. He checked the read outs on several of them, grateful for what they showed.
He stood and looked down on Steve for several minutes before he finally reached out and very tenderly touched his hand. Surprised at how warm it was, he ventured out more and grasped the slender fingers and held on afraid that if he let go alarms would begin to go off.
Mark had no idea how long he had been standing beside the bed watching his son, taking a breath only when the machine pumped air into Steve's lungs. Lots of memories coming to the surface, some good bringing a smile to his lips. Some not so good, sending a shiver down his spine. He felt a small hand on his back. Startled he turned to find Emma and Isaiah standing behind him.
"We was wonderin' if we could see him for a second before they take us to the jail house. I just need to see for myself that he is goin' to be ok," Emma quietly asked.
"Yes, of course you may see him." Mark moved off to the side so that the couple could get a little closer to his son.
Mark watched as they looked at all of the equipment that surrounded the bed. He could tell that both of them were a little taken aback and very frightened for Steve by all of the wires and tubes that were attached to him. Slowly, Mark began to explain a few of the machines and their functions in hopes of easing their fears.
"This is a breathing tube that goes down his throat and into his lungs. His body is too weak at the moment to breathe on his own so this helps. These are the leads that go to the heart monitor. It helps us keep a check on how well his heart is doing. If a problem arises, it will sound off an alarm and the doctors and nurses can be here to help him quickly. This is an IV to replenish the fluids in his body. Medications can also be administered through the IV." Mark went over a couple of other things in hopes that with some understanding they might feel a little better.
Before they were about to leave Mark noticed that both Emma and Isaiah had reached out tentatively to touch Steve's hand. They both hesitated afraid of causing him more hurt.
"It's ok, he won't break; we think patients can feel when a person touches them, and it will help him to know that someone is here." Mark smiled at them encouraging the contact.
Isaiah put his hand on Steve's shoulder and quietly spoke. "I'm sorry, Boy, about the way I treated you the other day. I just want you to know that I'm real proud of the way you worked. I plum wore myself out tryin' to out do you. I'm sorry too about making you remember all that bad stuff that happened to you and Robbie over there durin' that war." He stopped then and moved over a little so that Emma could get closer.
"You be a sweet boy and you mind what your daddy says. You're a good child and I love you like you was my own. Now I'm goin' to keep in touch with your folks and if I hear that you wasn't bein' good I'm goin' to lay into you with that breadboard again." She reached up and tenderly kissed Steve on his cheek.
The older couple stepped away from the bed, and as they turned to leave the room, Isaiah laid a hand on Mark's arm and said, "I know we ain't got no right to ask this of you, but could you please let us know how he is doin' from time to time? I guess we got more attached to him than we planned. I reckon we won't be too hard to find. They should be taken' us to jail and we'll probably be there for a spell." With that, the couple left and walked towards Captain Newman ready to face what ever the future had in store for them.
Mark began his vigil by his son's side like he had so many times before. During the night, Steve's vital signs steadily improved, however, he never regained consciousness. Mark was only mildly concerned, as he knew that Steve had a tendency to stay under longer than most people. He did however wish that his son would soon open his eyes and at least be aware that his father was with him.
The next morning Mark was startled awake by a hand on his shoulder. He jumped in surprise and looked up to see two familiar faces looking down on him smiling yet concerned.
"How is he this morning?" Amanda asked.
"Seems to be doing fine. His vital signs are much stronger and there so far has been no sign of any infection or any other complications. He still hasn't come around though." Mark seemed a little concerned over the last part he had just relayed.
"Yeah, but you know how he is. He really goes down for the count with the anesthetic. He could be out for another couple of hours yet. Everything looks good though." Jesse watched the monitors taking in the readings.
"I bet you've not moved from this spot all night, have you?" Amanda admonished her old friend.
"Well, I did leave long enough to stretch my legs and get a cup of coffee a couple of times while they were in here checking on him. I want to be here when he does finally wake up. I'm sure he's got a lot of questions," Mark said.
"What happen to the Tanners? Were they arrested?" Jesse asked.
"I really don't know yet. I've been here all night. They left with Captain Newman and I just haven't called to check on them. I really would like to know though. I wonder if I could get a couple of my friends to check into that for me?" Mark smiled at the two young doctors standing before him.
"I might be able to find out a thing or two. I do have connections you know." Amanda winked at Mark and at the same time reached for Jesse saying. "Come on, Boy Wonder. We have an errand to run."
For the next three hours, Mark sat and watched his son sleep. In his mind all he could think of was how badly he wished Steve would open his eyes. How many times had he sat here just like this? You would think that he would be use to it by now. Who was he kidding? If it's your child you never get use to it. If anything it gets harder.
DM
It was really only a small movement that drew his attention towards the bed. He watched for several minutes waiting. Nothing. Maybe he had just imagined it. He continued to watch hoping that his son would wake up. Thenhe saw it again. Steve moved his fingers, Mark leaned down and began to whisper in his son's ear.
"Steve. Open your eyes for me, Son. I need for you to wake up." Mark watched and waited for what seemed like an eternity.
There it was again, a small movement from Steve's hand. Placing his own hand on top of his son's, Mark began a soothing monologue in hopes of stemming any sudden panic that might well up inside of him once he became fully awake.
"There's a tube in your throat. It's to help you breath and you won't be able to talk until we take it out. I want you to relax for me. I'm right here. Can you open your eyes for me, Son?"
The effort hurt and it was taking a toll on him but Steve battled with his eye lids until finally he was able to open them up and the first thing he saw was his father's own twinkling blue eyes smiling down at him. He could hear the machines in the background but nothing seemed to register in his mind. Nothing else mattered to him. Why he was here or how he got here, didn't concern him. All that was importan to Steve was that his dad was with him and he would be ok. His dad would take care of him.
"You're going to be ok now, Son. I'm here and I'm goingtake care of you." Mark continued to talk to his son while gently stroking Steve's forehead in a soothing manner. The words floated comfortably by him because now his dad was there right next to him and he could see him. He could feel him touching his face. He would be safe now. Steve slightly turned his head so that it rested in his father's hand. He closed his eyes and went to sleep. This time he was able to dream. He had come out of the nightmare.