When Terror Takes Its Toll
Chapter 2
Mike watched Steve closely as he drove, noting that he seemed a little hunched and uncomfortable.
"That Leist guy is something else, huh Buddy Boy?"
Steve nodded.
"The lowest of the low Mike."
"You sure put him back in his box though ..." Mike chuckled proudly.
A faint smile curved around Steve's lips briefly but didn't stay there long as they were now in the late afternoon traffic and it was taking all Steve's efforts to keep his foggy brain and attention on driving as his back and torso ached again annoyingly. As the minutes went by, more muscles seemed to hurt and the pain was getting slightly worse. As they approached an intersection, Steve misjudged the traffic lights and went through on red as a truck narrowly missed them and Steve had to swerve right and then a hard left to move around it. Rattled by the near miss, Steve righted the vehicle and sent an apologetic glance Mike's way as his cheeks reddened and his breathing labored from the shock of it.
"Sorry ..." he mumbled.
Mike looked equally rattled from his side of the car and holding the roof out of the open window, he once more questioned the young man in a worried voice.
"Are you sure you don't want me to drive, Buddy boy? You seem a little distracted."
"No. No, I'm alright. It won't happen again. Sorry ..."
The rest of the drive to Bryant Street was hairy at best. Steve's usual flawless driving skills were totally off and his driving was more erratic and jerky. When they finally pulled into the underground parking space at Bryant Street, Steve barely looked at Mike, knowing full well, his driving had been under par and had quite obviously given away the fact that he was off form and not on top of his game. He went to exit the car quickly but Mike grabbed at his arm and stopped him.
"Steve? Maybe we should have just brought you home, huh? It's been quite a day for you."
"Look Mike ... I'm a little rattled, ok. I admit it but ... I ... I'm alright. I'd rather be here right now to wrap this whole thing up, ok?"
Mike studied the young man for several more unnerving seconds. He looked ghostly pale and there were beads of sweat on his brow line from the effort it had taken to drive here. He wasn't convinced that the young man was in any fit state to be working but not wanting to cause a full blown argument in the parking garage, he decided to wait and keep a close eye on the young man instead. Releasing Steve's arm, he watched Steve get out of the car and followed him quickly as he noted his sluggishness and slight, barely perceptible waver every now and then.
The journey up in the elevator and down the long corridor to Homicide took noticeably longer than normal to navigate for the younger man and when they finally entered the bullpen, the detectives present who had obviously heard over the wire of the ongoing events at the pier, clambered to their feet to race forward and check if Steve was ok, as soon as they saw their colleague enter. He waved off their concern with his hands raised and forced an "ok" smile, hoping it would be enough to stave off any further close attention. Right now, Mike's close scrutiny was more than enough for him to handle and his partner was practically breathing down his neck at every turn, not allowing him even a minute's respite to let his guard down and wallow in the misery his battered body was enduring.
Steve slipped off his jacket gingerly and resisted the urge to sigh heavily with relief as he saw the other detectives go back to their desks as he then slipped it over the back of his chair. But before he could sit down and take the weight off his feet, Mike had come behind him and grabbing him by the elbow had started to steer him towards his office.
"MIKE? ... What now?"
The frustration, the fatigue and the absolute misery were beginning to erode the young man's patience and it showed audibly in his tone. Ignoring Steve's question, Mike steered him into the middle of the office and turned to close the door before indicating the visitor's chair.
"SIT.."
"What am I? ... A dog now, is that it?"
Mike shot a Stone glare at his partner which ended Steve's rant effectively and he watched as the exhausted young man sat heavily into the chair and scowled back at him before he sat down himself and reached across the desk.
"Give me your hands?"
"What?" Steve asked confused as he then watched Mike place the first aid box up onto his desk and ask again a little louder.
"Your HANDS ..."
Realizing what he was about to do Steve shook his head in exasperation
"Oh for God's sake. They're FINE Mike ..."
"Oh well if you prefer, we could always head down to the ER and we could have someone look at them there for you instead?" Mike answered calmly and grinned as he saw Steve's face fall in defeat and watched as Steve slammed his two arms down onto Mike's desk in reluctant acceptance of his fate.
"Thanks Buddy boy ... It will just take a minute."
He saw how Steve tried to hide a grimace as he turned Steve's wrists to face him and he studied the red raw skin. Before Steve realized what was happening, Mike shouted out and startled him.
"SEKULOVICH? Come in here will you?"
To Steve's horror, he watched the Officer in question stand up and approach the office as Mike continued to hold Steve's wrists captive.
"What are you doing Mike? Selling tickets?"
"Relax Buddy boy, he's the designated First Aid Officer, ok? I just want his advice."
Steve sighed heavily and shook his head as Art Sekulovich entered the enclosed space and approached his Lieutenant, letting out a low whistle as he saw the state of Steve's wrists.
"What do you think Art? What should I put on those?"
"Ooh ... You're going to need to clean them and then maybe use some antiseptic ointment. I'd ah ... maybe bandage them up too while you're at it, so he doesn't bang them until they're healed."
"I am HERE you know?" Steve stated in disgust as Sekulovich spoke of him in the third person.
"Yeah, ok. Sounds good. Thanks Art." Mike replied warmly, ignoring the young man's seething tone purposefully as he then donned his black rimmed glasses to study Steve's wrists more closely.
"You need anything else Lieutenant?"
"No thanks Art ... That will be all ..."
Then casting a quick concerned glance up at his pale and aggravated partner, he added quickly as he watched Sekulovich head for the door to leave.
"Actually, see can you rustle up a cup of sweet tea for the boy wonder here, will you please?"
"I do not NEED a cup of sweet tea THANK you very much ..." Steve spoke through gritted teeth as his back started to hurt worse and he wanted badly to escape the unwanted attention and the fussing that he HATED with a passion.
Art stopped with his hand on the door handle as he watched the unfolding scene and waited for clarification which came quickly from the stern faced Lieutenant currently eyeing up his young partner with frustration and annoyance at the young man's stubbornness.
"Better make that EXTRA sweet tea, Sekulovich."
"Sure Mike ..."
Steve glowered across at the older man and was about to say something he'd regret but the first sting of the antiseptic wipe across his raw skin, stole the words from his mouth as he inhaled sharply and breathed heavily through his mouth.
"OW! ... That hurts Mike."
Mike looked up and tried to defuse Steve's obvious displeasure.
"Ok, ok, calm down. I know it does, ok? And I'm sorry ... but it has to be done. Just stay still and it will be done in a minute, alright?"
Knowing the sooner he endured Mike's ministrations, the sooner he would be able to leave and go somewhere quiet to suffer in peace, Steve nodded and went silent allowing the older man to wipe, prod, rub and bandage his wrists as he saw fit to, biting back the occasional grunt of pain in the process. Just as they were done, Art arrived back with a steaming cup of tea and placed it in front of Steve on Mike's desk. Steve scowled at it but Mike pushed it closer.
"Drink up Buddy Boy. It will do you good."
"I don't WANT it Mike!"
Mike went to shout in frustration but then stopped himself and decided to cajole instead.
"Steve? You've been through quite an ordeal today. A cup of sweet tea will help you Buddy boy "
Annoyed that he was being pushed to drink something he didn't want to and with the pain in his lower back and the effort of hiding it putting paid to the last shred of patience he had, Steve grabbed the cup in annoyance and bolted it back in one straight go before getting to his feet unsteadily and stating loudly.
"THERE! ... Can I please go now? "
"Steve? ..."
"Can I GO NOW?"
"Sure ... But don't go FAR! They're bringing in the other hostages to get their official statements and Rudy is coming down too so he's going to want to talk to you."
"Fine ..." Steve replied over his shoulder as he headed for the door and exited quickly without looking back until he reached the sanctuary of his desk. He sat down heavily and grimaced as the pain soared.
"Damn it ... " he muttered quietly under his breath, resisting the urge to massage the aching muscles in his back as he could feel Mike's eyes on his every movement.
His wrists were now stinging from their first aid and the hastily bolted down tea was threatening to return just as quickly. His head was started to develop a king sized headache and on top of all that, soon he would have to face his fellow hostages and his Captain in the current sad state he was in. He suddenly felt as trapped and as helpless as he did on that rotten boat and he knew he needed to get away for a while to try and pull himself together a little before he had to endure anything more. He heard Mike's Office phone ring and heard Mike's one sided conversation and knew this was his chance. Standing up, he turned to Bill and spoke quickly.
"Bill, tell the Master in there when he gets off the phone that I just went to clean up a bit in the restroom, will ya please?"
Bill nodded warmly.
"Sure thing Steve."
"Thanks Bill ..."
Bill watched as Steve made his way out of the bullpen and noticed to his further concern that his friend's walk was slightly off and more hunched than before. Wondering if he should go after him to check on him, he didn't get the chance as the phone on his desk rang and he had to take the call. Mike had seen Steve get up and leave as he had continued the phone call and asking the caller to hold on a minute he had covered the mouthpiece and shouted out of his office at the younger man.
"STEVE? ... Steve, where are you going?"
To his annoyance, Steve seemed to ignore his question and left the bullpen without looking back. Mike huffed in anger at the younger man's blatant insubordination but then remembering he had a representative from the Mayor's Office still holding on line one he went back to his call to get it over with as quickly as possible, so he could go and try and find his elusive partner. The Mayor's representative proved harder to appease than normal which only served to annoy Mike all the more. Eventually after ten more minutes of cajoling and appeasing, Mike finally replaced the phone back on the hook.
"Damn politicians! ... " he muttered in disgust as he stood up and hurried out of his office and headed straight for Bill's desk.
"Bill, did Steve say where he was going?"
"Ah yeah ... Just to the restroom to clean up."
"How ah ... well how did he seem to you, Bill?"
"Well now that you mention it he did seem a little off. What happened to him out there Mike?"
"That's what I'm going to find out Bill." Mike stated determinedly as he headed out to confront his partner and get the truth from him once and for all.
Five minutes earlier, half way down the corridor in the small men's restroom, Steve stood leaning forward with both his hands on the sink, staring anxiously at his sickly reflection in the mirror. Having exited a cubicle mere minutes before, he had discovered to his utter horror that he was now passing blood in a sufficient quantity to be alarmed about. He knew he was now in trouble as the increasing pain in his lower back made his recent discovery all the more worrying. He was hurt worse than he thought and now he had to decide what to do next. Alerting Mike to his current problem would just result in a telling off of epic proportions as he would have to relate the foolish circumstances which led to his current predicament as he had goaded Sonny into a one sided fight. Perhaps he could somehow just endure the upcoming interviews and then get Mike to drive him home under the guise of being tired. Then when Mike was gone he could get a taxi to the Hospital and get himself seen to unbeknownst to anyone. That sounded like the best plan in Steve's fuddled brain.
Straightening himself up painfully, Steve turned on the tap and scooped cold water up over his face to try and clear his head a little before opening his shirt nervously. As the fabric fell to the sides, Steve saw the heavy bruises along his left side and then turning to his left slightly, he gasped involuntarily as he saw the even worse contusions that adorned his lower back on his right side. No wonder he was hurting that much and passing blood. The sight was a grim one.
Just then he heard footsteps outside and quickly pulled the material together and began fastening the buttons again hastily just as Mike burst through the outer door and stopped abruptly as he spotted the object of his frantic search.
"I was looking for you ..."
"Well I guess you found me ... I didn't think the restroom down the hall constituted " too far" Mike."
Mike scowled at the sarcasm but then noting how unwell his young partner looked, his gaze softened and he inquired more sympathetically.
"You look like hell Buddy boy. Is there anything you're neglecting to tell me?"
Those words froze Steve where he stood and he knew it didn't exactly take a detective to see how bad he looked. Closing the final button, he hung his head and dried his hands with a paper towel as he mumbled.
"I told you ... I'm just a little rattled ..."
Mike noted the awkward stance of his youngest detective and started to piece the puzzle together in his head. Steve's unsteadiness on the boat earlier, his sluggish walk, his irritability, his trouble driving, his awkward looking stance and the fact that he had just been buttoning his shirt up as he had entered. With added determination, Mike moved closer and spoke firmly.
"Lift your shirt."
Steve stared nervously at Mike behind him in the mirror.
"What?"
"You heard me ... I said lift your shirt please?"
"Well what for?" Steve said feeling as if his time was rapidly running out along with his energy.
"Are you going to lift it ... or do I have to do it for you, Buddy boy?"
Steve decided a hasty retreat was now necessary and pushing gently past the blocky form of his partner he placed a hand on the door handle as he muttered wearily.
"Aw cut it out Mike will ya?"
Before he could depress the door handle, Mike spoke apologetically.
"Then I'm sorry Buddy boy ..."
Those words stopped Steve where he stood and he looked back over his shoulder in confusion.
"What for?"
Knowing what he had to do but not liking it all the same, he looked deflated as he moved towards his younger partner slowly and then flew into action.
"For this ..." he said as he tried as painlessly as he could to push Steve forward against the door and pinned him there with his left hand and arm and used his right hand to pull Steve's shirt up from where he had moments before stuffed it back safely into the waistband of his trousers.
Steve felt the move and struggled against Mike's hold, bringing his hand up behind his back to try and deter the older man's actions but pulling it back when his wrist stung mercilessly and then stopping his useless struggle as soon as he felt the material lift, felt the breeze from the open restroom window on his now exposed lower back and heard Mike's shocked intake of breath. Instead he pressed his aching head against the restroom door as he felt Mike release his hold on him and he heard the older man's breathing quicken.
"Dear GOD Steve! ... " was all Mike could manage to say as he stared in shock at the purple, angry looking contusions covering the right side of Steve's lower back and without warning he turned Steve around just as quickly and pulled the shirt up there too.
"Mike don't ... I can explain ..."
The bruises exposed now on the left side of Steve's chest also equally angry and sore looking, only added to Mike's horror, disgust and shock.
"Well then you had better start talking then, hadn't you Buddy boy? What the HELL happened on that BOAT?"
Steve stared helplessly at Mike, trying to get his rapidly fogging brain to come up with a way to explain what had happened that didn't sound as lame as it did in his own head, his pulled up shirt adding to his sudden feeling of uncomfortable, overexposure.
"WELL? What are you waiting for? Is your tongue bruised as well?"
Steve's face fell as he heard Mike's harsh words and he looked down at his exposed, bruised torso as he then proceeded to slowly pull the material back down to cover himself again before he muttered self consciously.
"I ... I had to create a distraction ... so that Kerrie could get a look at the number on the bomb ..."
Mike's anger at Steve's stubbornness and lack of communication hadn't quite fizzled out yet, despite the brief pang of guilt he had felt when he had seen Steve's downhearted reaction to his last question. Taking in what Steve had quietly muttered, he flustered loudly.
"A distraction?... So you ... GOADED one of them into a FIGHT? While your hands were CUFFED behind your BACK? "
Steve heard Mike's shocked and incredulous tone and flustered back.
"There was NO other way Mike. It was a volatile situation. We were dealing with a bunch of crazies.I had to do something fast and it was the only thing I could come up with, ok? I didn't exactly have a lot of options, you know?"
"But STEVE! What were you THINKING?"
Steve lost his temper this time as he tried to defend his actions impossibly.
"I was TRYING to get the number for the bomb for Bob ... Besides I ... I figured Dallam wouldn't let it go too far ..."
Mike started to regain his composure and tried his best to lower his tone, knowing that shouting at the young man wasn't going to help the situation.
"But you figured wrong, huh? Is that what happened?"
Steve nodded solemnly.
"He could have KILLED you Steve."
Steve felt his emotions waver as he remembered the way Sonny's rifle had lifted and pointed straight at him. He remembered the hatred in the African man's eyes and how he thought his number had been up and how it was all going to end badly. Steve's headache was in full swing now and he was having a hard time arguing his case anymore. Feeling defeated and unable to make further excuses, he sighed heavily as he leaned back against the restroom door and rubbed a weary hand through his hair.
"I know ... He would have to ... only ... the girl's father showed up ..."
Steve let that revelation hang in the air between them as he slumped visibly against the wooden door and hung his head shamefully. Mike's eyes widened in the horror of that statement and as his brain made sense of what Steve had just said, certain events from earlier suddenly became a little clearer.
"Are you telling me that ... just as Warren showed up, that terrorist was about to ... KILL you?"
Steve lifted his head and saw the heartache that question brought about in the older man's eyes. While he felt guilty in one way for adding to Mike's concerns, in another strange way he felt lighter for having told him.
"Yeah ... He had his rifle raised and pointed. That man saved my life, Mike."
Mike looked away and covered his mouth with his hand as he just heard firsthand how he had almost lost his partner and not even known about it. Thinking about the murdered girl's father, he felt a strange gratitude replace the annoyance he had felt for the man's foolhardy actions earlier but still his knowledge that Warren had risked his partner's life at a later stage along with the other innocent hostages still burned a hole in his gut.
"Well then I guess I owe him a thank you of sorts but Steve ... He still acted selfishly and revengefully and put innocent lives at stake later by his actions ... including YOURS ... and that can't go unpunished Buddy boy. Why if we let every vigilante take control of the streets where would we be, huh?"
"He was trying to help Mike ... And if he hadn't interfered when he did I wouldn't be standing here talking to you now, would I? I want to speak for him, Mike ... It's ... it's the least I can do ..."
Mike saw the determination and the gratitude in Steve's tired, green eyes and decided to park that particular subject for now while there were more things that needed to be asked.
"Ok, ok ... You can do that if you feel you have to but first ... why didn't you tell me what happened at the pier? I mean ... why hide it from me, Steve?"
Steve blushed slightly and then shook his tired head.
"I don't know Mike ... I guess it wasn't one of my better ideas ... or one of my most finest hours. I ... I screwed up Mike ... I ... I didn't want you know about it and ... and be disappointed in me ... "
Mike watched Steve's head drop onto his chest and the older man reached forward and placed both his hands on Steve's shoulders before speaking straight from his heart.
"STEVE? When are you EVER going to learn that there is very little that you could ever DO to make me be disappointed in you, huh? ... Steve, you handled that situation today better than anyone could have ever expected you to. You held your nerve. You got the number just like we asked you to and almost sacrificed yourself in the process. NO-ONE! ... and I mean no-one Steve could be more proud of how you acted today ... than me. Bravery like that doesn't come easy and well ... not without a price as you've just discovered. "
Steve's dimpled chin rose at Mike's words and Mike saw moisture building in the young man's eyes just as a grateful smile formed on his lips .
"Thanks Mike. That ah ... means a lot to me ... Look I'm sorry I didn't tell you about what happened."
Mike squeezed Steve's shoulders affectionately.
"Ok ... that's alright. Just tell me in future will you ? EVERYTHING HOTSHOT! You hear me? However ugly the details may be, you got that?"
"Ok ... I promise ..."
Looking down at the sorry sight of his partner, Mike tried to relieve the built up tension with added humor.
"Seeing as we're having a brief moment of revelation here, Buddy boy, is there anything else you neglected to tell me today, that you'd like to get off your chest?"
Steve smiled but then stiffened and frowned as he recalled one other thing Mike would NOT necessarily be happy about either. Seeing Steve's dire expression, Mike swallowed hard.
"UH OH! ... Ok, spill it."
Steve shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other in a vain attempt to take the weight of his excruciatingly painful right side before mumbling reluctantly.
"We ah ... weren't sure if the number was a two or ... an upside down five."
Mike's jaw dropped open at that further announcement and Mike felt sure that for a brief moment the blood actually froze in his veins.
"You weren't sure? ..." Mike repeated unnervingly. " Now wait a minute, if you weren't sure, you were supposed to show a closed fist so we'd hold our fire.
"None of us wanted to go on that plane with them Mike ... So we voted on it. We decided to gamble on the two ..."
"Well that was some gamble Buddy boy. Bob showed me that bomb in action. If you'd gambled wrong, you and all those on that jetty would have been FOOD for the FISH!"
"I know Mike. You don't have to tell me that. I was the one wearing the bomb as a fashion accessory, remember?"
"Yes ... yes that's right ... You were ..."
"If we had gone on that plane they would have killed us anyway Mike ..."
"Maybe ... Anyway I just wish you'd told me you were hurt that bad, Buddy boy."
Steve slumped a little farther as his legs suddenly felt heavier and felt as if there were starting to refuse to hold him up.
"I honestly didn't think it was that bad until a while ago ... " Steve uttered plainly before he realized what he had just revealed unwittingly.
Catching the words expertly, Mike's worried frown returned as he saw Steve's sheepish expression.
"Steve? ... WHAT happened a while ago?"
"Ah ... "
"STEVE? Full disclosure, REMEMBER?"
Steve swallowed hard, knowing his answer would without a doubt send Mike into full panic mode, but at the same time knowing that withholding information from Mike hadn't really worked for him too well so far today and that Mike deserved and had fully earned the bitter truth, no matter how uncomfortable it was for him to have to admit.
"I'm ah ... passing blood Mike ..."
Steve couldn't quite believe how hard those words had been to say and he closed his eyes briefly as he heard Mike gasp for a second time.
"You're passing blood?" Mike repeated again, slowly processing the latest worrying turn of events as he looked towards the cubicles and then back at a very pale and sickly looking Steve. "Just now? Before I found you?"
Steve nodded.
"Much?"
"A fair amount ... yeah ..."
"Steve, that's SERIOUS ... Ok, first things first, we have to get you down to Franklin and get you checked out and so help me ... if you give me any argument on that, I'll get Norm to carry you down to the car ... in a fireman's lift if necessary!"
Steve shook his head gingerly and smiled at Mike's veiled threat.
"No ... No, I won't give you any arguments ... My back is killing me Mike ..." Steve groaned as he grabbed his back, closed his eyes and leaned his throbbing head back against the restroom door, suddenly glad that he didn't have to hide the pain anymore.
Mike frowned as he watched the visible pain clearly etched on his partner's face and heard the highly unusual acceptance of a Hospital visit on Steve's part.
"Are you going to be able to walk down to the car?"
"Yeah, yeah I think so ... But what about Olsen?"
"Rudy will just have to wait for your statement Buddy boy. Come on, let's get you out of here."
Steve stepped back a little as Mike pulled the restroom door opened and then he walked sluggishly back out into the corridor, attempting to tuck his shirt hastily back down into his trousers as he went. Mike followed him closely behind. As they walked down the long corridor, Steve began to feel very strange. He was starting to feel very lightheaded and the ache in his back was such that it was now almost taking his breath away with every step he took. As they neared the door to Homicide, Steve slowed up as the corridor suddenly narrowed precariously in his line of vision and as darkness closed in from the edges inward. His legs weakened and he knew they would not propel him forward another step. He struggled to form even a word to alert Mike to his current difficulty. But Mike had seen him stop and hurried around to look at him as one simple, broken word left the young man's lips in a breathless manner.
"Mi ... ke ..."
"STEVE? What's wrong? "
Steve's eyes then rolled upwards alarmingly as he pitched forward without warning. Luckily Mike caught him and lowered him as gently as he could to the ground, sinking down with him and cradling Steve's head and upper body in his arms.