Aftermath

By Ann3

Writer's Note: I'm back ! And I'm sure a certain wee doctor would agree that there's just no better place for getting away from it all than the wilds of bonny Scotland. I've had a simply fantastic time, and I'm already planning the next trip !

Anyhoo, back to reality - and as promised, I'm going to finish posting this story. You may need to wait a wee while longer for the ending, which has had a bit of a re-write. That's another good thing about spending a week up home, all that lovely fresh air has also given me some fresh ideas on how I want this story to finish. So please bear with me !

Now, where were we...? Ah yes, wee Carson's about to go walkabout. I hope he packed his subconscious hiking boots ! Enjoy !

Chapter Ten

Behind Closed Doors

He looked so peaceful. Snugly safe in his lady's arms, Carson Beckett didn't have a care in the world.

It was a false calm, though. A carefree world, granted to him purely by the sanctuary of a deep, hypnotic sleep. Kate Heightmeyer knew that, more than anyone else around her, as she prepared herself to break it.

Beyond that peaceful smile, a demon lurked. One that had tortured a vulnerable mind to breaking point. She had to find that demon, and break its brutal hold, before that fractured mind shattered completely.

First things first, though – to breach the defences which, ironically, shielded that demon from her. Carson had nearly managed it himself the previous day, as she'd carefully coaxed out what he already knew.

"I – I remember them takin' me, Kate… I can remember him grabbin' me, an'… an' tyin' me up… an' I can remember him marchin' me back to the camp… even see the tent they took me into, but…"

He'd started to cry then, in helpless frustration, as those mental barriers slammed shut on him, again denying him the fullness of memory that he so desperately needed.

"I keep tryin' so hard to remember it, Kate… it's so bloody vital that I do, but… I jus' can't do it… they're – they're like doors, lass… huge doors in my head that I – I jus' can't bring myself to open…"

She'd left him then, to recover in Laura's tenderly fussing care, while she'd returned to her office – working well into the night to try and find a way to help Carson Beckett face, and defeat, his demons.

He could remember everything up to entering the tent, and had described the barriers in his head as doors. That, at least, had given her something to work with. An idea to take back into his brutalised mind.

"I've never been to Glencoe before, Carson, but I've heard it's really beautiful…" she said at last, finding further inspiration in the pride which had caused that smile to so charmingly widen. "I'd like you to describe where you are now, Carson… tell me what it's like… what you can see…"

Frowning slightly, as if resenting this intrusion into his peaceful world, Carson then smiled once more – this subconscious return to his homeland causing his accent, to silent amusement, to broaden still further into a sleepily tumbling burr.

"Och, it's l'vely, lass… jus' – jus' l'vely… great rollin' hills, all around ye, as far as ye can see… ye can be up here for hours, lass… come hikin' up here all day, an'… an' never see another soul… ye – ye need to mind yersel' though, 'cos the weather up h're can t'rn on ye b'fore ye know it…"

"Yes, Carson, I can imagine…" Kate agreed, gently bringing the second part of her plan into play. "Are there any buildings where you are now, Carson…? Any houses…? Cottages…? Farms…?"

Staring around at the complete isolation within his mind, Carson frowned again, shaking his head.

"No' re'lly, lass, no' this far from the village, it's… no, wait… aye, there's a wee croft ahead o' me… it's – it's a fair trek away from me, mind, but… aye, lass… aye, lass, it's there, I – I can see it…"

In silently grateful relief, Kate Heightmeyer levered her so nearly derailed strategy back onto its track.

"That's good, Carson… because the weather's changing now, just as you've just warned me about. There's a bad storm coming in, Carson, and it's getting dark too…you need to find shelter from it…"

He was already wincing, as if sensing what lay ahead, yet Kate Heightmeyer still pressed gently on. He was so close, so tantalisingly close, to breaking down those barriers. She couldn't let him stop now.

"Do you remember what I told you, Carson…? How Laura would protect you…? Keep you safe…?"

He was still frowning, but in puzzlement this time as soft smooth fingers closed gently around his.

"ye, lass, I r'member… ye – ye said she'd be holdin' my hand… keepin' me safe…" he said at last – even managing a trace of a smile as he settled himself more snugly into the familiar, comforting warmth of Laura's arms.

Making the most of this breakthrough, not knowing how long it would last, Kate took a deep breath – gathering her own thoughts, before gently taking Carson Beckett on the most vital walk of his life.

"That's good, Carson… you know you're safe now, that what you're about to see and feel isn't real… now I want you to walk to that croft you just mentioned… walk up to it in your mind, Carson… come on, Carson... come on, I know you can do this… walk up to it, Carson… I want you to open its door…"

She was holding her breath now, so was everyone else around her, as this pivotal moment finally came.

Ten seconds passed. Thirty seconds. A minute. And still Carson Beckett remained worryingly silent.

In front of anxious, watching eyes, a clenched hand then lifted from his side, shakily raised itself – its fingers slowly closing around a handle seen only within the depths of a brutally violated mind.

Swallowing hard, Carson Beckett unlocked the whitewashed door in front of him, pushed it open. Hesitating for one more moment, Carson then stepped across its threshold, into the deepest horrors of his mind.