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Chapter 23.

oOo

'First impression.'

oOo

If looks always decided about which doctor is good and which is not Captain Fuller would never consider Doctor Reynolds as a good one. He wouldn't even consider him as doctor in the first place. He was just too young for his likeness. This was the first impression the older officer had and it brought first minus on his mental list of advantages and disadvantages concerning unaware of such scrutiny Doctor Reynolds.

During long years of working in force as superior and, liking it or not, in the same time the one concerned and responsible about his workers good mental state Captain Fuller had often contact with different psychiatrists. That experience resulted with some sort of development of conviction that good, professional psychiatrist should be about fifty, stoic, a bit regal, well-nourished and with jovial round face. Something like Santa Claus, but not necessary with white fluffy beard and red outfit.

Doctor Reynolds was complete reverse. Thirty five maybe, sharp handsome features and nervous movements. To Adam's displeasure, taking from the scent which filled the room, the man seemed to be fond of shedding gallons of cologne water all over his body rather than taking real bath with water and soap. It was hard to believe that that man possessed adequate wisdom and experience and published scientific book about such difficult and important problem like post traumatic stress disorder.

Then again maybe Fuller thought that way because he himself was old (no, stop, in the prime of life rather) that it would be difficult for him to trust his most personal problems to a man of that young age. But Tom was ten or more years younger than doctor and probably he would laugh at those concerns. Captain breathed deeply. Maybe he is just prejudiced. Maybe he just worries too much.

"You'd better stop rousting and accept this man, Captain." Fuller mentally scolded himself. "Doctor Reynolds has very good references and opinions, not to mention great experience. And he is going to be the most important person in Tom's life soon."

"Good morning Mrs. Hanson, Captain Fuller, Officer Ioki." Doctor Reynolds shook quickly hands with his visitors and politely invited them to sit down. He himself eased behind his desk and nervously started looking for something between piles of papers cluttering up his desk until finally he got out some files and opened it. "Nervousness and lack of order." Captain Fuller winced slightly at the sight and mentally added another two minuses to his list about Doctor Reynolds.

"Doctor Zarmansky told me about Tom in short." He informed. "And in the very morning I read his medical card."

"And what do you think, doctor." Mrs. Hanson asked almost mirroring doctors nervousness. The load of restrained hope was almost visible on her tired face. "Will be my son all right?"

Doctor Reynolds shook his head.

"I won't give any opinions until I see and talk with Tom." He answered matter of factly. "Though I think that what he had to come through will leave deep scar in his mind forever."

"How deep?" Ioki asked concerned. His own traumatized experiences of being shot and then locked in coma and its results made him feel more empathized with Tom than anybody else could.

"It depends on how strong he is." There was an answer. "Mentally I mean. How cooperative he will be and willing to talk about it. Unfortunately even with his best intentions past experiences possibly will haunt him very long, all the more they were really really terrible."

Mrs. Hanson sighed audibly at the statement. To be honest she didn't need any doctor to know what he already said. You could just look at Tom and know that the road leading to the place where Tom would become in just some part as healthy as he was before that ordeal was very long and most possibly rough and bumpy. But hope is strange thing. It uses to be the most vital emotional feeling which works against all reason in the darkest moments of life.

"I am not sure if you remember me doctor," Ioki decided to use the short while of silence in the room and ask for something what was bothering him last days, "but some three weeks ago I and my friend came here and we were talking with you about your another patient. Michael Cooper."

"Ahh…" Doctor looked carefully at the younger man and opened his eyes wider as he finally recognized him. "I wondered where I know you from. Certainly I recall our meeting now. What about that poor boy?"

"You may not know that, but Michael Cooper was victim of the same guy, Guardian I mean, as Tom. I just wonder if there could be any similarity of behavior…" Ioki didn't know how to ask about this. "I mean… Michael was very… erm… he behaved as if he gone crazy, you know."

"Ioki!" Fuller immediately hushed his subordinate terrified by the meaning of his words.

"I understand your concern, Mr. Ioki." Doctor answered with pleased smile, suddenly Fuller had impression that this man liked to have opportunity to prove himself and shine with knowledge. "To our, scientists I mean discontent human brain is still not well studied part of our body, human mind is therefore the most unreadable and mysterious enigma. No schemes to rule it. I can't really say that what concerns you so much will happen to your friend. But unfortunately I can't promise it won't. After all Tom was under great and long-lasting stress, and additionally great pain and fear. Effects are just unpredictable."

"What can we do for him, doctor?" Mrs. Hanson asked concerned. "I mean… he is so… haunted by memories, scared and still so terribly painful. I know it is early, it is only a week after he first regained consciousness, and he is supposed to heal his injuries in the first place, but I feel so helpless."

"It's normal that you feel so. The only what you can do is to be there for him and with him. And by all means don't try to force him to talk about what had happened to him."

"Certainly." Mrs. Hanson obeyed instantly and looked at Captain Fuller hardly. "It means no police officers and FBI agents trying to investigate my son, you hear me Captain?"

"Mrs. Hanson. We talked about this already." Adam defended himself against her sudden anger. "Police is no problem, but I can't control FBI."

"Maybe I could help." Doctor Reynolds jumped in. "As head of Psychiatric Ward I can give you written statement that due to bad mental state of your son nobody except family and doctors can see and talk with him. Even FBI can't argue with that."

"If that will help…"

"Of course it will." There was certain answer. "As for my part as your son's doctor I would like to know if I could see him now. There is no sense to set it aside for later. I would like to start with medicines and sessions as soon as possible."

"Sure, doctor." The woman answered. "You can come whenever you wish."

"Is there any chance" Captain Fuller found the moment appropriate to solve another concern, "that you would see and talk with one of my officers. He partially had to deal with Guardian as well and he still can't cope with that very well."

"Well," the doctor raised his brews and answered:"if he is not a patient of that hospital I'd rather suggest him to visit police psychiatrist. I believe police have one, isn't it? Otherwise you can call my private consulting room and make an appointment. Now if you be so kind I am going to prepare myself for the visit. We will see by Tom." With said that he stood up and moved towards door, opened it and waited until everybody left.

Fuller was dumbfounded, just to say it gently. Even Mrs. Hanson, although almost completely blinded with concern about her son, was as well under impression of their cold dismissal. After knowing Doctor Zarmansky, always helpful and disinterested, she believed everybody was like him. She worried about Doug as if he was her own child and couldn't believe his needs were so brutally pushed aside as if were unimportant. And that man was going to heal Tom's soul…

"Charming guy." Ioki commented irronically; he recovered as first, though the visit left kind of bad taste on his toque.

"Still Doctor Zarmansky recommended him." Fuller tried to keep hope and support it on his faith that first impression can be misleading. "Let's give him chance."

oOo

Mrs. Hanson sighed slightly and for about tenth time this morning she reached for previously abandoned lecture of Doctor Reynolds' 'Ars vivendi'. To be honest she didn't like what was written there, first chapters introduced her to the terrifying facts about post traumatic stress disorder, its symptoms, problems with coping and statistics. All those news and facts were swirling valiantly in her head making her stomach feel sick. Maternity instinct, deep love and concern for son screamed against newly acquired knowledge because all that painfully reminded her that Tom became another unwilling number filling the statistics.

This time she managed read only about one paragraph until she gave up. Shifting on the chair the older woman cast assessing look towards her sleeping on hospital bed child and reached forward to hold his wrapped tightly with bandages hand.

Tom didn't have the bandage around his neck anymore. Still though, the angry red scratches and marks were present there, deep as they were hopefully they won't leave any scar on the soft flesh. His face as well was marked with several healing scrapes and fading bruises. Despite those still visible wounds Tom looked in his slumber really peaceful and relaxed. Some random person could be fooled by the sight and think the young man didn't suffer anything serious.

That person would be terribly wrong.

Careful and observant eyes of mother pierced through the semblances and blankets hiding Tom's entire form and noticed small and at first sight invisible signs.

Occasional wince on his face and stiff grip of his hand against sheets indicated how distressed and hunted his sleep was. His breathing was still labored and rather shallowly intakes of the air proved that the broken ribs and seriously bruised middle section were painful and troublesome.

"Still asleep?" There came unexpected whisper from behind. The woman was so deep in thoughts she didn't even hear anybody entering the room.

"Yes." She rushed with hushed answer and smiled at the approaching young man who stopped next to the bed and looked at his fallen friend. "Though, he woke up couple of times during the night."

"And how are you, Mrs. Hanson?" Ioki asked as he turned his eyes towards the older woman.

"I am fine."

"Really." The police officer didn't seem to be convinced by the almost automatically answer. For him Mrs. Hanson was everything but fine at the moment. Probably she didn't sleep all night again. "You look tired and unhappy."

"No wonder." Mrs. Hanson replied with smirk and groaned annoyed at the extremely uncomfortable and painful position she had on the chair she occupied most of the night. Not hesitating any second longer she shifted slightly attempting to relieve her aching back and bottom. She started suspect that hospital directors made everything to discourage the families from keeping long lasting vigils over their injured relatives by providing most uncomfortable chairs imaginable. "I will feel better when you bust this chair. You can accuse it for killing my back."

Ioki chuckled at the unexpected statement.

"I swear," Mrs. Hanson continued. "After all that ends finally I am taking Tom for long holidays to Florida or Hawaii. Somewhere where is hot and nothing to do, just lie down and watch palms grow."

"Sounds tempting." Harry answered with smile. "But I am afraid it would be difficult to convince Tom to stay in one place longer than ten minutes. He rather prefers something more active like skiing."

"Don't mention it." Mrs. Hanson laughed. "Tom always had ants in his pants as soon as he was near the beach."

"Did he?"

"When he was ten, we went with all family to California." The older woman remembered dreamily. "There are beautiful beaches and we were going to spent there all week of our holidays. Tom was very happy as well. Of course until it occurred to him after one hour of lying flat at the beach that we were planning this as our only activity during all day."

"What did he do?"

"After next hour of wriggling, nagging, pestering and even shouting, to our initial relief he decided to replace his energy and look for some fun outside our blankets."

"Did he find it?"

"Unfortunately." Margaret sighed half amused. "Along with some other boys he buried other unaware tourists' bags deep in the sand. It was meant as a joke, and wouldn't be discovered until they decided steal and bury a baton from one hardheaded local policeman."

"Now I know why he is playing Tommy McQuaid so good. He started his practice very early." Ioki commented mirthfully. "What happened then?"

"He and the boys had to find all buried bags, which took several hours, because in their excitement during their mischief they didn't pay attention on their whereabouts. Then the policeman insisted to take them to police station to scare them off in case they planned something similar in the future."

"Did it work?" The question met with quiet chuckle.

"Yes, until next holidays." Margaret answered. "Oh, these were beautiful times." She said and then became silent and rigid as present time got know abut itself by Tom's sudden groan. To her relieve their conversation didn't wake him up. His body desperately needed all sleep he could take, the more that constant nightmares exhausted him greatly.

For some time they sat in silence, which was disturbed only by regular beeping of ECG.

"Ioki?" Mrs. Hanson asked after some time with serious and sad tone. "Have you ever experienced such a feeling that one day you went outside your house, took deep breath into your lungs and all of a sudden you realized that during one night world, the air and life around changed. That came new season. It came autumn."

Ioki was surprised by the question, after such a cheerful talk several minutes earlier, he didn't expect the older woman to change her mood so drastically. But he knew exactly what she did mean.

"Yes." He started and sighed deeply. "After I was shot and then woke up form coma, I thought that all my life ended. I found myself in situation I didn't recognize myself anymore, everything seemed to be different. Even furniture in my flat seemed to be put in wrong places."

"What did you do?" Mrs. Hanson reached her free hand towards him and squeezed him sympathetically.

"Nothing, I guess." He answered, not pleased he was forced to think about past. "Life just went on. Though, I was close to totally screw it up by slipping into addiction to analgesics."

"I am so sorry. I didn't know."

"It's nothing. Really." Ioki smiled evasively. "Doug opened my eyes and had shown my foolishness. It was then I realized I was going straight line down to finish what the bullet started." Then the young cop fell silent for a moment. "Life consists of changes. One can be more drastically than another, sometimes you think it is unfair, but you can't change it. You have to live with that. That is how life is."

"That is art of living." Mrs. Hanson added.

oOo

"It's okay Tommy!" Mrs. Hanson tried to calm down her son, though her efforts were in vain, as

usual. Whatever was haunting him at the moment it was so real Tom didn't know the difference between reality and memories. "Oh God Tommy, please!"

"No, please! Lemme go!" Tom said weakly as writhed and fought restlessly.

"Judy! Do something." Mrs. Hanson begged. "Where is the doctor?"

"He should come soon." Hoffs answered hopefully trying in the same time to immobilize Tom's arms.

"Tommy! Look at me! Tom! Look at me!" The older woman tried to turn Tom's attention on herself. "Thomas Hanson! Stop it right now!" She was getting really alarmed because Tom was breathing really hard now and was getting frightening pale. She felt if he just looked at her for a second maybe he remembered where he really was and calmed down.

Scared and not entirely self controlled she slapped him on his face and earning some surprised break in his tossing she cupped his face and hold it until Tom's eyes rested on hers.

"Calm down Tommy." Mrs. Hanson caressed his face gently and soothed. "That's it sweetheart. That's it." Soon Tom's eyes lost that absent look and he stopped fighting.

"Ma…?" He managed whisper weakly between ragged breaths.

"Yes honey. I am with you. Always. And Judy is here as well." Tom turned his gaze towards Judy and then looked around as if looking for somebody hiding in the corner. His expression was still a little haunted.

"I am sorry I am so late." Doctor Zarmansky run into the room. "How is he?" He asked and walked towards his patient immediately noticing his devastated looks, pale skin and forced breathing.

"I… I thought…" Tom still unaware of new visitor looked straight at his mother who hanging over him covered all his vision. Blinking eyes he fought to cease shivering and tried to focus on his words. Though he didn't finish whatever he wanted to say because suddenly he winced and broke free from his mother's grip and curled protectively on his bed moaning slightly. "Oh God…" He gasped finally as extremely painful wave washed all over his body.

"Tom what happened?" Mrs. Hanson shouted panicked and looked helplessly at doctor who was already preparing syringe. "What is with him?"

"He is in pain." He answered and quickly walked towards Tom, took his hand and directed syringe to the small entrance in his IV drip leading straight to his vein. "It's analgesic Tom, it will burn a little." Hanson didn't even react at those words. He was just too focused on fighting with pain.

Several minutes passed without change. Tom was still suffering but then slowly Doctor Zarmansky could observe that his patient's face changed from mask of pain to one of relieve. Soon the shivering and tension abandoned his body and he started breathing easier.

"Tom?" Doctor bent over him to catch eye contact with him. "I need to check your dressings now. I noticed some blood on your back. Is that all right for you?" The younger man just nodded and let doctor fuss around him. In fact he didn't want anybody to touch him. He wished they left him alone but he felt too exhausted to speak or worse argue with them. Every time he woke up he met worried and sympathetic looks coming from his mother and friends. It angered him because he didn't like to loose control over his life and body and be so helpless. And those dreams… They brought fear, cold, pain and shame. And Guardians face. He started fear to fell asleep.

"Fortunately stitches are not broken. Yet." Doctor informed finally and covered Tom with the additional blanket. "Next time we can have not that much luck. Tom, how is your pain?"

Tom took a moment to answer. There was still some continuous buzzing around in his leg and back and ribs, but it wasn't that excruciating as some minutes ago.

"Better."

"Do you think you can manage to have a visitor?"

Tom looked up at the older man with bloodshot eyes. "Who?"

"Doctor Reynolds would like to see you now."

"Who?"

"Doctor Reynolds, he's your psychiatrist, Tommy." Mrs. Hanson answered and noticing slight aversion rising in his eyes she added: "He will help you."

"No." He muttered weakly. There was no force to make him to see that man, he didn't want to talk about the nightmares or their cause. Mostly because he didn't remember what caused them and all the more he felt it would be better to leave it like that. Anyways the world started swimming around him and he didn't think he would be able to last until the end of the visit. Suddenly Tom inhaled sharply and opened his eyes. No. He can't sleep and let nightmares come back.

"Tom, I insist…" His mother started, using her most authoritative tone.

"All right." Tom spat quickly without thinking. He decided that maybe this guy manages to keep him awake as longest as possible. Worth to try. Though keeping his eyes open was getting more and more difficult, his mind was just drifting away into world of pictures and memories. He made last effort to open them and surprised noticed Doctor Zarmansky, Judy and his mother left. Then his gaze went to the newcomer.

"Hello, Tommy." He heard cheerful greeting which was followed by sudden pain and fear which filled Tom's mind. "Oh no!" The new nightmare attacked him with new stronger force.

oOo