Chapter 3 Steve and Mark part 3

Amanda jerked her head up and blinked tired eyes open, processing first the fact that she had fallen asleep, second that her neck was stiff and sore from being held at an awkward angle and finally that it was movement from the bed that had woken her. At that point everything else was forgotten as she moved to Mark's side. "Hey," she said softly, "welcome back."

Mark's mind was empty, he struggled to form thoughts as he looked up at the concerned soft brown eyes that locked with and held his. A flash of recognition fuelled a croaked "Amanda," it was the most he was capable of, synapses of intelligence warring with those registering pain and discomfort, battling for a barely focused attention. The pounding headache won the initial foray, the light hurting his heavy eyes.

Amanda's relief that he recognised her was brief as his eyes clouded over again, the intelligence in them dimming, and for a moment she thought that this would be a repeat of Mark's earlier forays into consciousness. He would drift off back to sleep before his mind had time to even acknowledge the awakened state, let alone form memories in the jumbled synaptic pathways, but she saw the moment at which the intelligence won out. His eyes opened fully and focussed again.

It was curiosity that had pulled him back, too many unanswered questions to just drift back to sleep. Why was he in the hospital? What had happened? Why did his head hurt so much? How long had he been here? He began with the most obvious, licking his lips in an attempt to wet them before swallowing down on the unmistakable discomfort remaining from the intubation tube. "What happened?"

Aware that his recall was important in judging the prognosis for his injury Amanda answered with a question. "What's the last thing you remember?"

Mark thought about it. "I was. . ." he paused, making sure that this was the most recent recollection that he had. ". . . reading in bed. . ." He stared down at the covers, focussing his thoughts in case anything else came to mind. He looked back up at her. "I don't remember falling asleep." He looked around, frustrated by the lack of memory. "How did I get here?"

Amanda, still ignored his questions, explanations could wait until she had, in Jesse's absence, assessed Mark's condition. "Do you know what day it is?"

After several more mundane but necessary questions, and the obligatory checks on pupil and other reflex responses, Amanda moved to note her findings on his chart, relieved that there were no indications of more serious complications.

Mark endured the familiar checks with good grace, using the time to gather his fuzzy thoughts into order, he waited until Amanda had almost finished before repeating his question "So what happened?"

Amanda sighed, she raised her eyes again to meet his, her stomach tightening as she tried to gauge his reaction to what little she could tell him, knowing as she met his pain filled gaze that she needed to keep him as calm as possible. "Someone broke into the beach house and attacked you," she stated, keeping her reply deliberately vague. "I'm not sure of all the details, the police are investigating."

Mark didn't have the energy for too much curiosity, he tried to process her statement. "Burglar?" he asked.

Amanda nodded, "Probably," she said non-committally

If Mark had been more aware, he would have realised that Amanda was keeping something from him, but even the effort of the little talking he had done, exhausted him. "How long. . .?"

"You were brought in about seven hours ago."

Mark frowned, if he had been unconscious for that long then his injuries must be serious. "Concussion?" he asked, still economical with the exhausting task of forming words.

Amanda nodded. "Hmm. Mm," she agreed, "and a scalp wound that needed fifty stitches."

Mark gave a slight nod of acknowledgement. That would explain the throbbing headache and why he was on more than a saline drip, his eyes closed briefly before he forced them sluggishly open again, "Steve, Jesse?" he asked.

Despite its inevitability, Amanda's stomach knotted again at the question,. There was no choice in her response, Mark was in no condition to handle any stress, so no matter what he asked she could not tell him about Steve "They'll be back soon," she assured him, not sure what she would say if he asked her where they needed to come back from. She patted his arm in a gesture of reassurance. "You need to get some rest."

Again, if Mark had been more aware, he would have noticed the telltale signs that something was wrong, but he was struggling against pain and an almost overwhelming weariness, and keeping his thoughts even semi-coherent was a trial, so he accepted the reassurance at face value, content in the knowledge that he would probably see his son and his friend the next time he awoke. He gave a slight nod and surrendered to the desire to let his mind drift into the welcome oblivion of sleep.

Amanda watched his eyes close, relieved as his breathing evened out and some of the lines of pain that etched his face softened again as he relaxed. She looked up at the clock, it was nearly ten, to this point she had only allowed her concern about Mark's reaction to colour her thoughts about what had happened to her other friends, but now she was forced to acknowledge her own concerns. Surely Jesse should be back with Steve by now, surely it shouldn't take this long to sort out the misunderstanding that had caused them to arrest Steve. It had to be a misunderstanding, that was the only rational explanation. She repeated the thought in an attempt to quell her own growing uneasiness. They should have been back by now, she stared at the door as if that would cause her friends to appear but there was no movement. She took a step back and sank wearily into the chair.

-

Steve stared at the lawyer for a moment as the words registered and their implications slowly formed into coherent thought. Then the world fell away from him. It was an interesting sensation, sound went first, individual sources of noise registering and then disappearing, the dull hum of conversation, gone, the tapping of feet on the marbled floors, gone, the hum from the air conditioning, gone, the swish as the lift doors opened, gone. He stared at Jesse then back at his lawyer both were speaking, their lips moving, but no sound registered. Then the images began to fade, first the walls, their colours melting, then the focus was pulled, the faces shrinking rapidly as they appeared to fly away, disappearing into the distance until nothing remained. His thoughts consumed his consciousness leaving nowhere for his senses to register.

Each word came slowly, individually, to be curiously examined and then hung up as part of a complete sentence. They were going to stop him from seeing Mark. He couldn't go near him, couldn't talk to him, couldn't satisfy himself by the familiar comfort of sight or touch that he was okay. Instead the last image of bloodstained gaunt features, of a face partially obscured by an oxygen mask would be left to haunt him, as if it didn't possess his psyche enough already. He couldn't see him, wasn't allowed to, they wouldn't let him because they thought he was. . . they thought he would. . . He forced the words through this time, he couldn't deny them any longer. They thought he was the one who had hit him, nearly killed him. They thought that he was such a potential danger to his father's well being that he might do something else to harm him. His stomach lurched at the thought.

-

"The judge has allowed you an hour to collect your personal belongings under escort," the lawyer continued his explanation, unaware that he had lost his audience. "But you will need to check in with the LAPD first, they may want to preserve the crime scene, particularly since I understand there's still a chance that this could become," the lawyer paused for a moment not wishing to be untactful, but he decided there was no softer way to word his point, "a homicide investigation."

Jesse turned to look at Steve worried about how he would react to the comment, it was at that point that he realised that Steve was no longer with them, his gaze had dropped to a point on the opposite wall, his eyes slightly defocused. Jesse debated interrupting the lawyer to bring Steve back, but decided just to listen to the advice himself. Steve didn't seem to be in any state to deal with it. He turned his attention back to the lawyer who was looking at his watch.

"Well I've got another court appearance in about half an hour so I'm going to have to get going. I'll look over the rest of the police reports and get back to you about your defence." He addressed Steve directly again and finally seemed to notice his client's dazed state.

Jesse stuck out his hand. "Thank you for all you've done so far." His tactic worked and the lawyer returned the handshake without thinking, allowing his attention to be distracted by the young doctor. "You've got my home number and Steve's cell so you should be able to contact us when you need us."

The lawyer nodded, taking a glance back at Steve, he wasn't entirely sure about the truth of that statement, he certainly hadn't had much contact with his client thus far, but he contented himself with returning his attention to Jesse. "I'll be in touch then," he stated, breaking off the handshake and turning to rush off down the corridor.

Jesse watched him leave for a moment before turning back to Steve, if anything he was looking worse than when he had come into the courtroom, but Jesse couldn't be sure that that wasn't just because he was much closer now. He turned and stood directly facing his friend placing his hands on his shoulders. "Steve? Steve?" it took a couple of tries before Steve's eyes began to focus again.

Steve looked at Jesse, momentarily confused, he glanced around and then looked back at Jesse again. "Jess?"

"Come on let's get out of here," Jesse said. Steve gave a slight nod and a tight smile, following silently as Jesse led the way to his car.

-

"So where are we going?"

Jesse almost jumped when Steve spoke, finally breaking the cocoon of silence that had blanketed him since leaving the courthouse. It took him a moment to frame his answer. "I was going to take you back to my place, let you get some rest before arranging to pick up some of your things later." He turned to glance at his friend but only caught the back of Steve's head as he stared out of the window as he had been doing since the journey began.

There was a long pause and Jesse was ready to believe that the conversation was over when Steve spoke again, much quieter this time. "Go to the hospital."

Jesse wasn't sure that he'd heard properly "What? Steve, I didn't. . . ."

Steve finally turned to face his friend. "Take me to the hospital."

Jesse drew in a deep breath, "But Steve, you heard what the lawyer said. You can't. . . ."

"I won't come in. . . at least I won't. . ." He paused taking a breath, he had taken a while to try and sort his emotions, had thought he was in control before speaking, but any control that he had was tenuous at best. His gaze dropped to his hands. "I'll stay in the car, I know that I can't see him but. . . ." He broke off again, not sure how to word his request, how to make Jesse understand that he needed some measure of physical proximity to try to calm his fractured nerves and quell the fear of loss that was still all too close to the surface. He wasn't sure that he understood it himself, much less how to explain it. He looked back at his friend. "I need you to check on him for me, and I need to be there even if I can't go to him," another brief pause preceded the quiet, "please," that held just a touch of desperation.

Jesse felt Steve's gaze as it shifted back to him and he turned to briefly meet it, knowing in that moment that he had to follow his friend's request, that no argument would get Steve to follow any other course of action. Steve was rarely this open with his emotions and Jesse found the open vulnerability that was on display all the more alarming for that. He nodded, hitting his indicator to change lanes. "OK, the hospital first and then back to my place."

The thank you was quiet and were the last words Steve uttered for the rest of the journey, his gaze drifting back to the passing cityscape that once again barely registered on his senses.

-

Amanda stood instantly as Jesse entered Mark's room, open relief registering on her features as she recognised her friend. She smiled in greeting as she moved towards him, following his gaze down to Mark's still sleeping form before looking back up. "Jess, I'm so glad you're back, where've you been? What took so long?" She moved to embrace him, pulling back as she realised that he was alone. "Steve not with you?"

"It was a little more complicated than we thought." Jesse looked back down at Mark. "Has he woken up yet?"

"Yes, about an hour ago. No complications, he's going to be fine." She accompanied the news with another smile, allowing the relief to register once more.

Jesse made a half-hearted attempt to return it, was truly relieved himself, head injuries were always the most difficult to call, you couldn't be sure of anything until the patient woke up, but he was too preoccupied with Steve's predicament to fully appreciate the good news. He nodded and gestured for Amanda to follow him into the hallway, he did not want to risk Mark waking and overhearing his explanation. It was a prudent move as Amanda reacted loudly to the news of the court hearing and restraining order. She ran through the exclamations from open surprise through disbelief to incredulity before calming down a little.

"So where's Steve now?" She asked.

"He's waiting by the car, he insisted on coming here but he wouldn't come inside." Jesse paused, "The question is, what are we going to tell Mark? He's going to be asking for him when he comes round."

-

Steve stood leaning against Jesse's car and stared at the side of Community General. He'd spent the last five minutes wondering if he could see his father's window from where he stood. He closed his eyes, trying to match his mental picture of the insides of the building with the outside that he could see. It was a pointless exercise but it was eminently preferable to the other thoughts that he could allow to occupy his mind.

Knowing that Jesse was inside with his father had brought some of the calm that he had sought by coming here. He knew that Jesse and Amanda would both look out for Mark, would be there for him when he couldn't, but he also knew it wouldn't be enough, not enough for him or his father. Despite that, there was nothing that he could do about it and his helplessness frustrated him, the anger of injustice flared briefly to be replaced by the ever present guilt. This situation still seemed to be of his own creation, not in the way that others would perceive it, but his fault nonetheless. His failure to protect his father, his complicity in placing him in a position of danger, made him strangely accepting of the need for some form of punishment, and standing out here staring at the walls of the hospital was painful enough, knowing that this could end up as just as much, if not more, of a punishment for Mark made it even worse, something else to feel guilty about in a downward spiral of self recrimination which now consumed his moments of rational thought.

He opened his eyes again and scrubbed his hand across his face as they slowly readjusted to the bright morning sunlight. Suddenly the desire to leave was as strong as the desire to come had been. He needed to go somewhere, needed to be doing something other than moping around, burying himself with his own emotions. He looked at Jesse's car, there was no doubt in his mind that he would lend it to him if he asked, but he had no way to ask, besides Jesse would need it himself, making his decision, he turned and walked away.

-

Jesse knew that something was wrong the moment he had opened the door to the parking lot. He had managed to get a space fairly close to the building, his car clearly visible from the entrance, and he expected to see Steve either standing by the car where he had left him or sitting inside, but there was no sign of him.

Amanda noticed the instant shift in her friend's demeanour. They had spent the last half hour with Mark, whilst Jesse did his own checks on his friend's condition. He had woken briefly and they had spoken, Jesse brushed off his question about Steve's whereabouts by convincing him that he was working and would be by later, they had talked long enough for Jesse to satisfy himself that there would be no lasting damage from the head trauma. The only memory loss seemed to be of the events immediately preceding the attack and that was common enough, no other functions seemed to be impaired and Jesse was thankful once again for their luck. When Mark had drifted back to sleep, Amanda had insisted on coming down with him to check on Steve.

Jesse cursed softly and began to scan the lot, still heading for his vehicle to see if Steve had left a note.

Amanda followed scanning the surroundings herself as she correctly read Jesse's reactions, Steve was not where he'd said he would wait.

Jesse scanned the interior of the car and checked over the windshield but there was nothing. He let out a breath of frustration and looked directly at Amanda. "He asked me to bring him here, why would he leave? Where could he have gone?"

She shook her head and looked back at the hospital building. "You don't think he would have gone inside?"

Jesse thought about it for a moment, could the desire to see Mark have gotten the better of his common sense, would he risk being arrested? "No," he said firmly, not quite sure why his conviction was so strong, he just knew it was something that Steve wouldn't do. He knew that his friend wouldn't hesitate to break the law if he felt that his father was in some sort of danger, but he wouldn't just break it to fulfil his own desires, however powerful they might be. "No," he repeated, "he was quite clear about not even coming inside. I suggested he wait for me in the cafeteria but he said it would be better if he just waited here."

The two friends stood staring at each other deep in thought. "He may have set out for your place. That's where the two of you were going next isn't it?" Amanda asked.

Jesse nodded.

"He may have decided he needed the walk to clear his head," she continued, trying to remain rational despite a growing desire to panic "Why don't you head out in that direction and I'll check in the hospital, just in case? He can't go home," her voice caught slightly at the statement, but she recovered quickly, "and I can't think of anywhere else that he would go."

Jesse nodded again, "OK, I'll call if I find him." He opened up the door to his car as Amanda stepped back. "Amanda," he said causing her to turn back to look at him. "You didn't see him earlier, you know how hard he's been working these last few weeks, he was on the point of exhaustion before last night and now. . .well," the pause was longer as his eyes swept down to the ground and back up again. "I'm really worried about him."

"Me too," Amanda said, she reached out and squeezed Jesse's hand, "me too."

-

Jesse pushed open the door to Bob's rattling the bell so that the waitress looked up. She smiled as she recognised one of her bosses, relief registering clearly as she moved over to him. "He's in the back," she stated without preamble, since she had been the one who made the call that precipitated Jesse's visit. "We had to persuade him to go in there, he was frightening the customers." She kept her voice low. "He wouldn't tell us what was wrong and he looks terrible, and then when he hurt himself he refused to let anyone near. I didn't know what else to do so I called you, I'm sorry if. . ."

"It's OK Kate, you did right, thanks for calling, I'll deal with it." Jesse tried his best reassuring smile but his own emotional state did not allow him to be very convincing. He had spent the last two hours looking for Steve and the worry of not knowing where he was, on top of his already powerful concerns for the wellbeing of his friends, was taking its toll. He moved past the young waitress and headed for the kitchens. He pushed the swing door and looked around expectantly.

"He went into the office," the cook said nodding in the direction of the door.

"Thanks Marco," Jesse stated before moving on.

Steve sat at the desk with his back to the door, he had the books open and a pen gripped in his cloth wrapped hand. Jesse watched only for a moment but that was enough to tell that the hand was shaking too much to write.

"I thought if I came here I could do something useful," Steve stated quietly. There was a long pause, Jesse just waited giving Steve the time he needed. Steve stared at his hand. "I got a call on the way here, I've been suspended pending the outcome of the investigation. I need to surrender my badge and gun when I pick up my things from the Beachhouse." The pause this time was barely a beat, as if he needed to change the subject. "How's my dad doing?"

"Good," Jesse answered, "He's been awake and talking, he doesn't remember what happened but apart from that he seemed fine."

Steve continued to stare at the desk in front of him, not sure why there were tears welling in his eyes but determined not to let them fall. "You didn't tell him. . . . about me?"

"No," Jesse's reply was soft, "We'll wait 'til he's stronger." He searched for something more positive to say. "We'll probably have this sorted out by then."

Steve nodded. "Probably."

There was another long pause, Steve finally looked at his friend. "I must look a sight, there was a kid out there who burst into tears when I spoke to her." His tone was strangely flat, "So Kate persuaded me to work in the kitchens," he glanced down at the crude bandage on his hand. "Cut myself, Marco thought I'd be safer doing the books, but I can't seem to control the damn pen enough to write." Steve stared at his shaking hand again. "Useless," he muttered, then threw the pen down. It hit the paper with a loud slap, Steve's hand shook more.

Jesse stepped forward and took hold of Steve's hand stilling it, he turned it over with calm professionalism, and slowly began to unravel the cloth around it. "Let's take a look at how much damage you've done," he said, keeping his tone conversational.

Steve winced as the blood that was sticking the cloth to his skin was pulled agitating the wound.

"Not too bad, but you're gonna need a couple of stitches," Jesse stated, deliberately forcing all of the emotion back, at that moment Steve needed his strength, or at least a show of it. "I'll get my bag from the car."

"No," Steve said quietly, replacing the cloth round his hand as he spoke, "It can wait 'til we get back to your place, I've caused you enough trouble."

-

Jesse pulled the cover up and tucked it around Steve's neck. Standing up straight he rubbed his eyes and yawned, knowing that he should take this time to get some rest himself. He felt slightly guilty for tricking his friend into taking the sedative in his drink, but knew it was the only way to ensure that he got the rest he needed. He was sure that Steve's emotional state was being exacerbated by his exhaustion, and if he admitted it, so was his own, he hadn't slept himself in almost 40 hours. He also knew that the next few days were going to be emotionally draining as the consequences of the attack continued to play out, and Steve would need all of his strength to deal with them.

He moved over to the phone, he had one last obligation before he could get some rest himself. "Hi, Amanda. . . yes he's sleeping peacefully for the moment. . . Yes I'm going to get some rest myself now and you should too, he's going to need us when he wakes up. They both are."