Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. No copyright infringement of publicly recognizable characters, products or services is intended.

A/N: I am not a doctor. Also not a cop.

Chapter 8: One Step Forward

Stephanie Lantis was still in intensive care, still unconscious and under the careful eye of nearly a dozen medical personnel. It had been almost two hours since she and Carlton had done anything more than raid the vending machine or aimlessly pace the waiting room. Now they were just sitting and waiting, tossing occasional in the thinly cushioned hospital chairs and staring at the overnight feed of the weather which was sadly forecasting rain around noon.

Juliet checked her watch. Noon was just seven hours away. Seven...

She tried for the hundredth time to make herself comfortable. She couldn't help but envy Carlton who was sleeping soundly next to her. He was slumped in the chair, his head resting on the knuckles of one hand, his long legs stretched out in front of him.

His occasional grunts and soft murmurs told her that he was dreaming again. She was torn on whether or not to wake him. Sleeping would probably help ease his anxiety but dreaming might enevidably add to it.

She let a hand hover just over his arm as she tried to force her decision but before she could make up her mind, the hospital doctor chose for her.

"Detectives." Dr. Donnelly's voice echoed in the empty waiting room.

Carlton heaved a sigh and peeled his eyes open. He blinked at the floor with furrowed brows then squinted as if he were trying to remember something. When he appeared to have it, he slid a glance towards her; his eyes looking just as red as they were blue. He watched her a half-moment then flinched slightly.

"Are you okay?"

Juliet stood slowly. "Fine," she said. "I'm just a little stiff."

Calton squinted up at her. "Did you run the plates?"

"... On what?"

"The car is blue, not black."

Juliet stared blankly. Clearly he was talking gibberish again.

"Wait ..." Carlton slid his eyes closed then rubbed them muerdously with his palms. "I think I fell asleep."

"You did," Juliet said. "And in these chairs no less."

Dr. Donnelly cleared his throat from across the room. "Whenever you're ready," he said, gesturing to the door behind him then pushing it open.

It was a long quiet walk to Stephanie Lantis' hospital room. The bright, sterile hallways were practically a ghost town at five in the morning. They took a number of turns then dipped inside of a darkened room.

Dr. Donnelly stopped just inside of the doorway, spoke quietly with the nurse then beckoned Lassiter and Juliet further inside.

The severity of Stephanie Lantis' attack seemed gruesomely real now that her doctors had addressed her bruised neck and battered face. Apart from her blond hair, the woman was barely recognizable. She had several darkening bruises on her lip and left cheek bone. A square of gauze sat just above her left eye and her entire chin was pointing stiffy in the air, aided by a white neck brace that looked at if it would swallow her whole.

Juliet could sense Carlton's uneasiness as he inched into the room. His breath caught in his chest and rather than approaching the bed, he moved towards a nearby armchair and positioned himself quietly behind it.

Across the room, Dr. Donnelly made his final notes on a stack of papers then turned to face them. "As I was saying earlier," he said, "this is against my better judgement. I appreciate, of course, what you're up against but Ms. Lantis really isn't ready for questioning."

"It won't take long," Juliet said. "We can take a full statement later. What we need right now is a description of the assailant. This guy is still at large."

Stephanie cringed slightly. The steady rhythm of her heart monitor beat faster as her eyes gently closed.

Juliet took a step closer to the bed. "I don't want to alarm you, Ms. Lantis. We're with the S.B.P.D. I'm Detective Juliet O'Hara. This is Detective Lassiter."

Stephanie's eyes opened again and slid towards her.

Juliet waved then gestured to Carlton who seemed to grimace. "We feel that your help—However small—Can go a long way towards helping us catch him. All we need are some of the details of what the assailant looked like."

Stephanie studied the ceiling once more then nodded her chin slightly.

Dr. Donnelly sighed. "Okay," he said with a note of resignation. "If we're going through with this, I don't want her talking. Feel free to use sign language, smoke signals, mind reading—You name it. But when it comes to speaking, I want none of it."

He darted his eyes admonishingly towards Stephanie who blinked and nodded her chin.

Juliet patted her pockets and retrieved her cell phone. She opened the notes app then passed the device to Stephanie. "Okay," she said, watching Stephanie stare into the screen. "What can you tell us?"

Stephanie shook her head slightly then typed a response. "It was dark."

"I know," Juliet said. "But anything at all, even if it seems like a minor detail …"

Stephanie thought another moment then began typing. "Small wrists."

"Small?" Juliet looked to Carlton and then back to Stephanie. "He had small wrists?"

Stephanie set the phone onto the bed then grabbed her own wrist with her opposite hand and demonstrated how she could touch her fingers to her thumb. When Juliet nodded, she picked up the phone and typed again. "Dark clothes. Hat"

"That's pretty much all I caught when I arrived on the scene," Juliet said. "Could you make out the face?"

Stephanie stared at the ceiling. Her eyes tracked from one tile to the next before she looked at the phone screen and typed Dark again.

Juliet frowned. She had been hoping for a lead but it turned out that Stephanie knew almost as much about the assailant as she did.

Stephanie pulled the phone back in front of her, typed out another message and held it out for Juliet to read.

"You remember smelling mint," Juliet said, reading the message aloud.

Stephanie nodded then typed, "Gum. Candy?"

Juliet chewed on her lip. "Carlton, does mint mean anything to you?"

"Nothing more than a trip to the allergist," Carlton mumbled, still hiding behind the chair.

Stephanie seemed to go rigid at the sound of his voice. Her eyes darted about the room then glanced at the phone again. She typed another message and showed the phone to Juliet.

"She wants to know if you can come closer," Julie said, looking at Carlton who seemed to grow a shade lighter.

He inched slowly from behind the chair and stood just inside of the door.

Stephanie's eyes strained to one side. She tried to move her head.

Juliet grabbed Carlton's arm and pulled until he was standing beside her.

Stephanie smiled faintly. Her lips parted and then closed again as if she wanted to speak but stopped herself just in time. She glanced cautiously at her doctor then typed on the phone again. She produced the message for them both to read.

"I thought that was you."

Juliet looked from the phone and then over to her partner. "So you do know each other ..."

Carlton nodded. "We met at the first shop."

"Beatriz's place," Juliet said, looking back over to Stephanie who was anxiously typing again.

"They told me you were there," her next message read. "They said I was lucky."

"You were," Juliet said, looking from the phone and back over to Carlton who appeared to have once again checked out of the conversation. When she looked towards Stephanie again, she found another note waiting.

"Thank you both. So glad you like coffee." Stephanie smiled again—a gesture that Carlton didn't return—Then typed out another message.

"Did you find her," Juliet said, reading Stephanie's next note aloud. She looked back towards her with a frown. "Who?"

Stephanie waved a hand in Carlton's direction then pointed to the phone.

Juliet nudged his arm. "Carlton, I think she's trying to ask you something."

Carlton glanced over to the screen. His eyes danced two or three times around the sentence then stared blankly. After a brief moment, his jaw tightened and eyes seemed to spark with unquestioned clarity.

"No," he said in a deep and almost haunted voice.

Stephanie blinked several times as if making an apology then surrendered the cell phone to Juliet and stared at the ceiling with a heavy sigh.

Dr. Donnelly closed in immediately and wasted no time at all showing them to the door.

When they were back in the hall again, Juliet turned towards Carlton. He was plodding along beside her, his shoulders slumped and chin so near his chest it looked as if he were counting the buttons on his shirt.

"What was that about?"

He slid a glance in her direction. "What was what about?"

"That thing just now ...The question she asked you. What was she talking about?"

Carlton's eyes rolled under a pair of heavy lids. "I asked her about a missing persons when I first saw her. A high school student from Ojai. Samantha ...Garrett, I think it was. Suspected runaway."

"So you were working a missing persons case?"

"I've been working a ton of cases."

"But that one took you to the coffee shop."

"No, that's just one of the ones, O'Hara. Like I said, there were many."

"But Carlton, this one stood out to her ...So much so that she remembered to ask you about it. If I were her, that would've been the furthest thing from my mind—Especially after a night like tonight. I think it's worth following up on."

"Knock yourself out," he said, bringing up a hand to massage his temple. "It won't connect to anything. It doesn't explain how I knew about tonight or why everyone says that stupid word."

Juliet stopped cold. "Hudson?"

"You don't have to say it," he whined. He turned towards her with a scowl but it melted away the moment that he made eye contact with her. "Why do you look like that?"

"That word," Juliet said, grabbing his arm. She pulled him behind her as she trotted the short distance back to Stephanie's room.

Dr. Donnelly was just outside, making his final markings on a stack of paperwork. He looked at them crossly as they approached. "Forget your phone?"

"I have one last question," Juliet said, stepping between the doctor and the door. "It will literally take five seconds."

Dr. Donnelly pursed his lips. "That's valuable time for someone who needs sleep." He cheated his eyes towards Lassiter. "Speaking of that, shouldn't you be getting some yourself? Or perhaps some caffeine and a good pair of sunglasses?"

Carlton answered with a scowl.

Dr. Donnelly looked back towards Juliet again. "Same rules apply," he said. "And be quick."

Juliet slipped into the room, phone at the ready. "Stephanie?"

Stephanie Lantis blinked at the ceiling then cheated her eyes towards the door.

Juliet powered on her phone and held it out to her. "Last question," she said. "Does the word Hudson mean anything to you?"

Stephanie blinked several times then stared at the phone.

Juliet willed her to take it. After next to nothing on the assailant, some reasoning behind that curious word would be a good consolation prize.

Stephanie narrowed her eyes as if she were straining to recall crucial information then gave up with a sigh. She waved at the phone and gently shook her chin.

"Told you," Carlton said, once they were back in the hall. He was walking much faster this time; moving in long, determined strides as if he had resolved to make it out of the hospital in precisely thirteen steps. "I'll grant your theory that it might be a case, OHara, but there are literally dozens that I've been working on ...And they're all pretty cut-and-dry. Nothing spectacular. Nothing that would cause stupid nightmares or replay that stupid word in my head—" He turned sharply towards her. "And don't say it."

Juliet shrugged half-heartedly. She was too tired to be clever—She barely had enough energy to be serious.

Carlton continued down the hall again. "So Stephanie Lantis recalled our conversation about the missing persons. Big deal. She probably sympathized with Samantha Garrett's story ...Wholesome teenage honor-student suddenly goes missing. No shady boyfriends, no bad crowds, no drugs. Just a thoroughly-packed bag, some banknotes from her father's wallet and adios. I mean, seriously O'Hara, give me a little credit. If it were easy, I wouldn't be wracking my brain. Besides, I'm not dreaming about high-schoolers."

"Thank God for that," Juliet mumbled. She paused just inside of the waiting room and stared over at the godawful chairs. The mere sight of them sent a throbbing pain deep into her back. She rolled her shoulders to chase it away. "What'd you dream about tonight?" she asked. "Just before Dr. Donnelly led us to Stephanie's room ..."

Carlton paused to study the floor then looked up with a shrug. "I don't remember."

"Do you remember what you said when you woke up?" She waited for his answer but he only stared at her with a half-frown. "You told me to check the plates on a car… You said it was blue not black."

Carlton rolled his eyes and started for the parking deck. "Then mystery solved, let's go home. If we're lucky, we can snag two hours before we're due back at the station."

Juliet followed him quietly. The thought of sleeping for just two hours almost made her want to scream. She was certain that after all of the unresolved details from tonight she wouldn't be able to sleep—Not soundly. She was still too worked up. She had next to no details about Stephanie Lantis' assailant, nothing that was going to bring Carlton's nightmares to an end, and the uneasy feeling that he had just had another one.

What bothered her most was the idea that before he told her to run the plates, before he mumbled that the car was blue and not black, he had asked her a very pointed question. He woke up in the waiting room with a lingering look of concern in his eyes. In a voice half-strangled with sleep and with a gaze that she had seen too many times before, he said three words … Are you okay.

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"I'm so happy you called, Goose." Madeleine smiled warmly from her side of the table. She seemed exceptionally bright for this time of day. Her perkiness nearly made Shawn squint. "I thought eight a.m. was too early for you. Your father said you don't usually wake up until noon."

"He has it backwards," Shawn said. " I don't go to bed until noon. Plus, I've learned that time with my own mother is by appointment only, so..." He tilted the sugar shaker and watched the granules disappear into his cup.

Madeleine watched him quietly. "That's not true," she said, visibly distracted by how much sugar was collecting in his cup. She batted at his hand. "That's too much."

Shawn reluctantly returned the shaker to the table and took a hesitant sip of the black liquid. He pulled it quickly away again. "This stuff tastes almost as bad as Ovaltine."

"I thought you liked Ovaltine."

"Mom, nobody with working taste buds likes Ovaltine." He tipped the shaker completely upside down over his cup.

Madeleine reached for his hand again but Shawn pulled his concoction out of her reach.

"Shawn, stop that."

"It's gross."

"Then why did you order it?"

"Because I need the charge. I had a late night last night—Or technically this morning." He returned the shaker to the table and reached for a spoon, stirring the sludge until it had an almost syrup-like consistency.

"Were you working on a case?"

"Yes. With a client of yours, actually ..."

Madeleine's brows pressed together. Her lips formed a fine, delicate line. "You know I can't talk about that, Goose."

Shawn clinked his spoon along the side of his cup. "Score one point for me because now I know I was right."

Madeleine's look was unchanged. "Shawn, you are a very observant and very caring person. Of course you would have figured out that something was wrong."

"See, that's where you're wrong because it turns out that things are the exact opposite of wrong with Lassie, which means that things are just right."

Madeleine's brow twisted in a very funny way. She tilted her head to one side, seemingly confused.

Shawn leaned towards her. "Lassie's symptoms are of the supernatural variety. Thanks to his exposure to Camel Dinner Plates, your client—a.k.a he who shall not be named—can now see into the future."

Madeleine stared a moment. Her eyes narrowed and blinked rapidly as if his summary was nothing more than a gust of cold wind. After several moments, she smiled faintly. "Oh, you're being silly."

"No! Mom, he had two—Count them—Two premonitions about attacks before they happened. And last night slash this morning, Jules said they caught the assailant in the very act ...And of course, by caught I mean the guy actually got away—But I'm telling you Mom, our little Lassie's all of a sudden Anthony Michael Hall ...Or Walken ...He could be pulling a Walken ...I'm actually kinda torn on who did it better."

Madeleine gazed at him with a serious expression. Gradually her attention slipped to her coffee cup where she hugged it between her palms and took a long slow sip.

Shawn shifted in his seat. "Look, the facts are there okay? I saw it with my own eyes. Now, I don't know what you'd call it but in any book by Stan Lee, what Lassie's got is called precognition."

Madeleine made a face. "Who's Stanly?"

"Sorry, Mom. You have your sources and I have mine." He took a sip of his coffee and nearly gagged.

"See?" Madeleine said, smiling faintly. "I told you sugar doesn't make everything better." She watched him until her smile melted into a very deep frown. "Be careful not to play games, Goose. Anxiety is serious. And adrenal fatigue can be very dangerous in his line of work."

"Yeah, well, it must be a big deal if you came all this way ..." Shawn pushed the coffee cup to the far end of the table and tried to work the awful taste from his tongue.

Madeleine's frown deepened. "My visits are not always about work, Shawn. You know that."

"Sure, I do ...Sometimes it's about Red Robin and secret rendezvous with my father and ex-best friend." He reached for his menu and pretended to study it.

Madeleine's shoulders pulled back slightly. "Your father tried to call you. He said that you weren't answering your phone."

Shawn stacked his menu onto the table and ducked so that his head was nearly at the bottom of it. "He could've sent a text," he mumbled.

"What was that?" Madeleine tried to peer over the menu.

Shawn ducked further.

"Shawn, stop hiding behind your menu and talk to me."

"I'm not hiding. I'm really, really interested in this Cheesesteak Egg Skillet thingy."

"Goose," Madeleine whined, "You always make a menu fort when you're too nervous to talk about something. Now what's wrong?"

Shawn remained behind the solitude of his menu wall. "I'm just saying ...You guys could've sent a text or something." He gripped his menu tightly as Madeleine struggled to rip it away from him. "Or messaged me on Twitter and hashtagged it free lunch."

Madeline pulled the menu from his hands and tapped him on the head with it. "Well how does hash-bag free breakfast sound?"

Shawn ducked as she tried to swat his head again. "It's hashtag, Mom."

"I don't even know what that is," Madeleine joked as she tried to swat him again.

"Clearly," Shawn said as he grabbed her menu and tried to defend himself with it. "Oh, I get it. It's not okay for me and Gus to play menu-war at the table but you get to start up a game whenever you want?"

"I wouldn't know how to play if I didn't have to tell you boys to stop every time we ate out."

"You still don't know how to play," Shawn said, deflecting her next attack, swatting her with his own menu and then retreating behind a shield that he had built with the condiments.

A mousy voice cut into their game. "Are you ready to order?"

Shawn looked up to see their petite waitress standing at the end of the table. She smiled pleasantly, her brown eyes dancing between them as she tried to hide a blush.

"Truce, Mom," Shawn said, sliding the table items back into place. "Honestly, I can't take her anywhere ...Uh, I'll have the cheesesteak egg thing—With extra cheese. And anything with caffeine that isn't coffee." His eyes dropped to the capital V and A on the waitress' name tag. "Vah ...Vey ...What is that, Latin?"

The waitress looked at him confused then down to her shirt. "Um, no. It's just V.A. The state is my name and my initials so everyone thought it'd be kinda funny to have it as my name tag."

Shawn's memory started to jog. V.A.?

"Virginia is a beautiful name," Madeline said, smiling.

Virginia?

"It's a beautiful state too," Madeleine added. "Have you ever been?"

"No. I'm kinda afraid to fly but—"

"Silence!" Shawn shot a hand into the air.

Both women jumped in surprise.

"Allen," Shawn said, beginning to feel anxious. "Your name is Virginia Allen."

The waitress nodded.

Shawn frowned. "Crap!" He pulled his phone from his pocket and pressed a familiar name. He felt his mother's eyes on him the entire time.

"What is it?" Madeleine said, a twinge of worry seeping into her voice.

Shawn shook his head as he put the phone to his ear. "Jules ...I think you and Lassie should get down here ...I'm pretty sure I'm staring at your third victim ..."

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