1Confinement

The three men approached the double steel doors of the unit, but only two of them were experiencing a nervous sense for foreboding. Dr. Rizzo swiped his key card through the security sensor and the heavy doors swung open.

Deakins and Carver surveyed the long corridor before them: locked steel doors, each with a one-foot square window, lined both sides of the hallway — ominous and aesthetically out of place in contrast to the tasteful decor of the of the walls and floor, all done in eye-pleasing pastels. Carver thought to himself, "Calming decor to counteract the mental chaos going on behind each of those doors."

Dr. Rizzo interrupted, "It's the last door on the right, gentlemen."

Upon arriving at Bobby's room, Carver and Deakins both tried to steal an un-obvious peek through the small window, hoping to prepare themselves for what they were about to see. Neither man liked surprises.

As Dr. Rizzo punched in the room access code on the small keypad next to the door, he tried to reassure Deakins and Carver. "Don't let the sight of the restraints bother you, gentlemen. They're not too tight – they're not hurting him. They're to keep our staff safe until we're better able to access his demeanor once he comes to."

Deakins and Carver looked at each other, each knowing what the other was thinking. They each took a deep breath before entering the room. Dr. Rizzo remained in the doorway; Deakins couldn't imagine why–it wasn't as if Bobby was going anywhere– so he correctly surmised that the psychiatrist was merely there to observe his and Carver's reactions.

Carver remained steps back from the bedside, but Deakins stood close. He put his right hand on Bobby's forehead and stroked back his hair, still damp from perspiring during the horrific ordeal he'd gone through. Deakins whispered an almost inaudible, "Awww...Bobby." Looking down at Bobby's face, Deakins couldn't help but notice the streaks left from tears– the redness around the rims of his eyes, only partially hidden by his long brown lashes. Deakins was still stroking his hair and, again, whispered, "We'll take care of you, Bobby."

As Deakins turned from the bedside, he was almost startled–and embarrassed–having momentarily forgotten that Carver and Dr. Rizzo were watching. He cleared his throat, "Thanks, Doctor...you'll let me know once he's awake?"

The three of them left the room; Deakins taking once last glance over his shoulder.

As they headed back down the hall, Dr. Rizzo asked, "Is there any family, loved ones...a 'significant other' whom we should contact?"

Deakins looked at Carver. They both knew the answer but Deakins was the one who verbalized it. "No, Doctor. His mother recently passed away; there's a brother–very distant–they rarely, if ever, keep in touch, so, I'm afraid we're it." The answer that Deakins really wanted to give was the truthful one, but this was no time for sarcasm, so he mockingly said it to himself, instead: "No Doctor, he lost that person this afternoon. That's how he ended up here in your nut ward."

The Doctor nodded. "I'll mark you down in his file as the contact person, then."

They returned to Dr. Rizzo's office so that Deakins could retrieve his weapon from the Doctor's safe. As Deakins and Carver left, Dr. Rizzo sat at his desk and opened Bobby's file.

The Doctor began making notations: "Met with patient's commanding officer, Capt. James Deakins, accompanied by a Mr. Carver of the District Attorney's office...briefed both on patient's current status...permission granted to visit patient...Carver -remained several steps away from bed; no interaction with patient...stoic...Capt. Deakins approached bed...interaction with patient... gently stroked patient's head and whispered words of reassurance; definite display of paternal and/or elder-sibling type instincts for patient...sincere. Carver– identified self as "colleague;" I concur. Deakins– "friend." I concur."

Carver and Deakins exited the hospital, heading towards the parking lot. Both had been silent, lost in their own thoughts. As Carver approached his car, he turned to Deakins, "Feel like joining me for a drink, Captain? You look like you could use one."

Deakins shook his head, "No, thank you Mr. Carver. I've gotta' head over to Eames' parents' house."

Carver gave him a solemn look, "I don't envy you the task, Captain. Please relay my condolences."

Each entered his respective vehicle, Carver heading for a scotch & soda at Carucci's. Deakins wishing he was.

End. Chpt. 4