CHRISTIAN POV

The ambulance had arrived before they could, and by the time they got into the emergency room at the hospital, Ana was nowhere in sight. Christian burst through the doors like a man on a mission, scouring every place within his line of sight, trying to see where the paramedics had brought her, but he found nothing. Rushing to the receptionist, he was brusque in his approach to get information.

"Where have they brought Anastasia Steele?" he demanded, his hand gripping the ledge of the chest high desk, his knuckles turning white with tension and the effort it was taking to maintain the semblance of control.

"I'm sorry sir-" the petite woman began to speak, but in those three words he'd lost his patience.

"She was brought here by ambulance. Anastasia Steele. I need to know where she is right now."

Her eyes flicked to the screen in front of her before she plastered on a smile. "Sir. I can't give out a patient's information without the consent of the patient."

"Well she can't give consent," he spat, then felt the hollow feeling roil through him at just why that was.

"I see. Are you next of kin for the patient?" she asked, now looking at her monitor as she typed something quickly on the keyboard.

"No, I'm- a friend," he said.

"I see. Well, it's important in these situations that we remember that the patient has a right to privacy. If the patient you are referring to is, in fact, here, we will attempt to notify her next of kin of her condition, and once we do, you can get updates from them until we are given direct permission from her or the family to allow you access as well. Would you happen to have contact information for a spouse, parent, or sibling for the patient?"

"There's no question about whether or not she's here. The paramedics told us they were taking her here. And she's not married, has no siblings, and doesn't speak with her family," Christian informed her, agitated.

"Well, legally, the next of kin are the ones who can make decisions for her in the event that she cannot make them for herself. Unless she has an advanced directive that you are aware of?"

Next of kin? Ana surely wouldn't want her mother contacted, not if she voluntarily left living with her in order to stay with- her step-father! Christian remembered from her background check that she had a step-father who lived not too far from here. He would be the best option to contact. And he had to do something, had to get a hold of someone. He couldn't just sit here and wonder what was happening to her.

"Sawyer!" Christian shouted, startling the receptionist.

"Sir."

"I need the information for Ana's next of kin. She has a stepfather. Get me his number."

"Yes, sir." Christian watched him pull out his phone and dial a number, talking in low tones until he hung up and addressed his boss again. "Sir, Taylor is almost here. He's having Welch forward him Miss Steele's background check."

He waited five minutes that felt like fifty, before Taylor came through the door, uncharacteristically disheveled, missing his suit jacket and tie. He must have really booked it when Sawyer called him. The fleeting thought of where Kennedy was, if Taylor was here, came and went when Christian's feelings about Ana just outweighed his concern about Kennedy in the moment.

"Taylor I need Ana's stepfather's contact information. The hospital needs to contact her next of kin."

"I already contacted Mr. Steele, sir," Taylor said, before turning to address the receptionist. "I will provide you with Mr. Steele's phone number when you are ready, but he's already been informed of his daughter's arrival to your emergency room. He's not local, but he's en route." Taylor grabbed a pen and a scrap of paper from the desk, jotting down some information before handing it to the receptionist.

"Thank you, sir. I will get this to her medical team right away."

Taylor nodded before turning back to Christian, who pulled him aside. The low rumble of the two deep, low voices could be heard by those around them, but not their words.

"You talked to Ray Steele?" Christian asked immediately.

"Yes, sir. Sawyer called me as soon as the paramedics arrived at Miss Steele's apartment. I got ahold of Welch and contacted Mr. Steele immediately. I knew they would need to contact a next of kin and with him being a distance away I thought it pertinent to do it as soon as possible."

"How did he sound? What did he say?" Christian asked, anxiously running his hands through his hair. The truth was, he really had no idea what kind of a relationship Ana had with her estranged stepfather. He was just assuming it was a better one than she had with her mother, but he didn't really know.

"He seemed… overwhelmed, sir. As soon as I asked if he was the father for Anastasia Steele, I could her the sharp breath he took. He sounded emotional, and pained discussing her. I have no doubt he cares for her- worries for her regardless of the current state of their relationship. As soon as he found out she was unwell, he was panicked and rushing to get any and all information so he could get here and to be with her."

"Good," Christian mused. The boded well, at least. "Did he ask about you? Who you were to Ana?"

"I gave him my name, but he was too distracted once I said Ana's name to worry about further details, I suspect. I figured it would be better to delve into specifics face to face."

That was good too. How would he introduce himself to Ana's father? As a friend? Were they even really that? As her boss? That was technically correct, but didn't scratch the surface of their complicated relationship. And wouldn't explain why he was the one to find her in her apartment. But delving deeping would bring up a lot of questions, questions he was sure Ray Steele would be dying to have answered. How much should he reveal about what he knew about Ana's situation? It didn't feel like it was his place to tell Mr. Steele about her relationship with Kennedy. But would Ana? And if she didn't? Would she ever get the help that she needed? And if Christian did it, would she ever forgive him for it? The questions made him feel sick. Hopefully he would know how to cross that bridge when he came to it.

Finally the reality of the situation caught up with him, and Christian snapped his attention to the other looming issue. "And Kennedy?"

He watched Taylor shift his body weight, a small but uncharacteristic sign that he was uncomfortable and about to deliver news that Christian would not be pleased with. "Kennedy's whereabouts are not currently known, sir."

"What do you mean, not currently known?" Christian spat through clenched teeth.

"It seems Olivia had heard the scuffle in the office and in addition to notifying me about it, he took it upon herself to call the police," Taylor said. "She meant well, I'm sure, but they showed up right after you left, and that left me little option to handle anything with Kennedy myself."

"And since he is MIA, it's safe to assume they didn't arrest him," Christian stated, rather than asked, since he basically already knew the answer.

"There was really nothing to arrest him for, sir. At the end of the day, he hasn't done anything illegal."

"He fucked a fifteen year old student," Christian seethed.

"Recently. He hasn't done anything illegal recently, nothing that could get him arrested. Honestly, sir, the police were more concerned about the state of his face, and had offered to bring you in or questioning and possibly pressing assault charges against you."

Christian eyebrows rose in surprise. "He declined. And truthfully, sir, had them eating out of the palm of his hand. His skill for distraction and manipulation is frightening. He was jovial and kind, knowing just how to lead the officers to side with him. He made a point to tell them you were his boss, insinuated that it was your fault, but seamlessly downplayed it as a heat of the moment altercation over a personal matter that just happened to come to a head at work. Since you were the only two in the room, they could only take his word for it for the time being. He knew how to take advantage of the police being there. He knew I wanted to keep him there, but with the police present, I had no choice but to let him walk without a fight. If I'd done otherwise, it would have been easily seen as an attempt to circumvent the law. If I'd pushed for him to stay in front of the officers, it would have been suspicious."

"So he just got to walk free," Christian said, his fists balled up, shoulder raised and tensed with anger.

"I have Renyolds out there actively trying to locate him and Ryan sitting on his house. I don't suspect he's going to flee or anything. Afterall, he hasn't done anything illegal to flee from. But now that all of this has come to light, I'm very sure he suspects we have been and will be watching him. So it may become harder to keep tabs on him now that he's aware it's happening."

"Great," Christian huffed with an eyeroll. Just fucking great.

The next hour and forty minutes or so crawled by. Christian used it to play back every moment he could remember with Ana, from the first time he set eyes on her to their kiss in the car, her admissions about her past, how she cried in his arms while her neck was covered in bruises, to the last time he'd seen her, when she was safely wrapped up in his arms in his bed. The gut wrenchingly painful memories seemed to outweigh the positive, in both quantity and level of severity, but that didn't stop the few truly good ones from filling him up and reminding him why he fought for her over and over. And even though he'd been given false hopes of an enlightening on her part multiple times before, he couldn't help but go all in on hoping this was the final crossroads, and they could finally start her journey of healing together. Once he could finally get an update from the physician, he could set in motion all the step needs to get Ana whatever help she needed, both medically and mentally. He was anticipating some psychiatric evaluations based off the suicide attempt alone, but beyond, that she needed it desperately to help her work through all the abuse she'd suffered at Kennedy's hands. It wasn't going to be an easy road, but he would do anything in his power to help her walk it.

The commotion of a man plowing open the glass door and rushing into the reception are drew Christian from his thoughts. He was a man on a mission, closing the distance between him and the reception desk in just a few long strides. He was confident and severe, his face etched with hard lines, his body tensed.

"My name is Raymond Steele. My daughter, Anastasia was brought here by ambulance a little over two hours ago," he barked gruffly. Christian felt a roil of concern, wondering again about Ana's relationship with her stepfather. He'd had no other option than to notify him, yet, what if Ana didn't speak to him for a reason? This man seemed almost angry. What if he was just as detrimental a piece to Ana's life as everyone else had been?

"Yes, Mr. Steele," the receptionist nodded quickly. "Please take a seat. I will let your daughter's physician know you have arrived. Someone will be out to speak with you shortly."

She turned to her attention to her phone, and Ray's body slumped then staggered back. He dropped his body weight into the closest chair, cradling his head in his hands as he let out a stilted, heavy breath. His hard exterior crumbled, and suddenly he was no more than a man of desperation.

Christian wasn't even aware that he was on his feet until he was standing in front of the man who now looked completely exhausted.

RAY POV

The adrenaline from the drive out to Seattle finally wore off and Ray collapsed into the closest chair while he wait for someone to come speak to him about Annie's… condition. He was so frantic on the drive over that his mind didn't even have room to obsess about the what if's. He was simply focused on arriving in Seattle as quickly as possible. He'd just start to feel the spreading tendrils of terror at what news he could possibly hear, when a young man dressed in shirt and tie suddenly towered over him.

He stood quickly, on new adrenaline surging. Time to face the music. "Are you the doctor?" he asked, the nervous sweat breaking out across his forehead.

"No, I'm sorry, I'm not. I'm actually-"

"Raymond Steele?" A voice called from the doorway leading further into the hospital.

"Yes," he called back to the woman in scrubs searching the room. "That's me. I-excused me," he said, addressing the man in front of him. "My daughter," he motioned toward the door, not in any mood to even fake caring about anything other than Annie right now.

He approached the woman, who took him aside and talked to him in very hushed tones.

"You're Anastasia's father?"

"Yes. What happened? Why is she here? Is she okay?"

"This is going to be hard to hear, but your daughter was brought to us following an attempted suicide."

The sharp intake of breath caught in Ray's throat, his hand clutched at his shirt over his chest, where he felt his heart stop right before it started pounding wildly behind his sternum.

"Is she…?" he trailed off, not knowing what to even ask. Alive? She's said attempted suicide, so yes. But for how long? And in what condition?

"She's expected to make a full recovery physically. She was brought to us by ambulance after a friend found her on the floor of her bathroom with an empty pill bottle. At the time, it wasn't known exactly how many pills she'd ingested, so we did need to pump her stomach. Fortunately it seems she didn't really take enough to risk death or even cause much concern for organ injury, but regardless of how mild, it was an overdose. It brought her heart rate way down, as well as her blood pressure. It was enough to make her lose consciousness, but not enough to end her life. So medically, she should recover very quickly. But mentally? Psychiatrically? Your daughter needs treatment, so this doesn't happen again."

"Yes," he agreed solemnly. Annie needed help. "Can I see her?" It had been so long since he'd even seen her. It made his stomach twist knowing this was how he finally was going to get the chance to lay eyes on her for the first time in so many years.

"Yes. We are in the process of getting her set up in a room right now. If you can please have a seat again, someone should be with you very shortly to bring you there."

Ray ran his rough palms down his cheeks, scrubbing against the barely there stubble as he nodded and turned back toward the seats. She was going to be okay. Physically. And he would do anything and everything in his power to get her the help she needed mentally. It killed him that he had no idea what could have caused this, what would make her think death was her only option. It killed him that he hadn't been a part of her life in so long that he couldn't even entertain any notions about what could have brought this on, because he truly didn't know her at all anymore. He had no idea how to help her, but he would., however possible.

Annie had always been a sweet, happy girl. He fell in love with her the moment he saw her. When Carla left him, the loss of Annie was far greater than the loss of her mother. It devastated him. And when she came to live with him again, despite the circumstances at the time, it was one of the greatest moments of his life. He was finally whole again.

But he'd worried about her the first couple of months. She had always been quiet and shy, but she seemed even more withdrawn now. All the moving around Carla put her through had never allowed her to stay in one place long enough to make real friends in those pivotal early teen years, and he'd been able to see the repercussions of that when she came back to him. The first three or so months, she never hung out with friends, only stayed home, nose always in a book. She was kind, smart, and beautiful. She should have no trouble making friends, and yet, all he saw was her becoming more isolated. It worried him. He begged her to talk to be people, to make friends, so go out and even get into a little trouble for God's sake. But she was always content to just sit around the house.

But then something clicked. Suddenly she started coming out of her shell a bit, She made a few friends, even joined the track team, and Ray felt he could finally relax. Then things really took off, and suddenly she was spending seemingly all of her time out with friends. Always some program after school, some hangout, some something where she would be out for the night. But it was good. It was normal. It was what she needed.

The money needed to raise a teenager was no small sum. And with the terrifying bills associated with a college education looming in the not too distant future, Ray found himself filling the hours with extra jobs at work, trying to make enough to support them both more comfortably, while setting aside savings for when Annie went off to school. He wouldn't be able to pay her full tuition; unfortunately she would need to take out some loans. But he would do the best he could to help. She deserved it. She deserved the best that he could give her, even if he broke his back working for it.

As a result, he didn't see her nearly as much as he wished he could. It was around that time, when he was so busy, that she started to change. It was small changes in her at first. Coming home and going straight to her room without telling him goodnight, for example. Or, where she used to make them dinner, now she rarely did, and even then, she'd take the food into her room to eat. She'd barely glance his way, sometimes for days at a time. He knew he didn't make it easier, being a man of few words himself.

Maybe… maybe if he'd pushed her to talk to him, to interact, things wouldn't have gotten perpetually worse between them, like they did. He was working for her, to provide the brightest future possible for his little girl. But one day he looked up, and she was simply no longer his loving, sweet little daughter. She was… emptier, somehow. More closed off. But eager to avoid an emotional confrontation, something he'd never been good at, he'd chalked it up to teenage moodiness- he'd never claimed to understand the mind of any teenager, let alone that of a teenage girl. But eventually he realized it had exceeded a mere teenage attitude problem.

But by the time he was ready to take steps to fix their relationship, she was gone. She'd graduated high school, and the next thing he knew, she told him she was moving out. He asked about college, and she said she was taking some time off before going. She already had a job lined up and was moving to Seattle. He'd been shocked. He begged her to reconsider, told her about all the money he'd been saving to help her with school, warned her against taking time off. She'd always wanted to go to school, always wanted to study literature and go into publishing. He had no idea those plans had changed, and was blindsided that all of this was happening.

But what could he do to stop it? He tried to reason with her, but it just led to an angry screaming match, something that had never happened between then before. He'd told her she was making a huge mistake, and then she'd told him he wasn't even her real father. He'd been so gutted, he couldn't speak, and she'd walked out.

The next day, he came home from work and she, and all of her stuff, was gone. He hadn't seen her since. He'd been a different man ever since that day. A sad, devastated man. He'd tried to call her, but her phone was disconnected. He'd hoped she'd return for the holidays, at least, but she hadn't. He'd then tried to locate her in Seattle, but no searches ever led to an address. He'd actually come to the conclusion that her new location was a lie until he'd gotten the call tonight saying she was, lo and behold, in Seattle.

"Mr. Steele," a voice pulled him from his trip down memory lane. The man from before was standing in front of him again.

"Yes?" Ray asked, now wondering why this man knew his name.

"I know this is a difficult time for you, and I'm sorry we're meeting under these circumstances, but my name is Christian Grey," he said, holding out his hand to shake, which Ray did, out of politeness, maybe habit. 'I'm a friend of Ana's."

"Oh?" Ray asked, at more attention now. Christian Grey? He knew that name, knew this man's face. He was a hot shot in Seattle- a billionaire if Ray correctly remembered the article he'd seen.

"Yes. I'm, uh," he hesitated for a moment, running his hand through his hair. "I'm the one who found your daughter after… In her apartment," he said with a wince.

"Oh," Ray said, his voice low. This man- Christian Grey- had access to Annie's apartment. He was the one who walked in and found her... What did Christian Grey want with his Annie? "You're a friend of Annie's, you say?" he asked, trying to assess the situation. He obviously had access to Ana's apartment if he got in while she was unconscious in her bathroom. Most friends don't just have open access to someone's apartment. You only allow that to someone close to you, someone you trust. Could he actually be her boyfriend?

"Yes," he said. "I'm also…," he hesitated, and then a flash of panic crossed brightened his eyes before he finished in a rushed breath, "her boss."

In his peripheral vision, Ray took note of the two men, one in a black suit and the other in more disheveled but similar dress clothes, standing off to the side but eyeing he and Mr. Grey covertly. Ray felt his hackles rise along with his suspicions. He didn't know Ana's life, or who was a part of it. But this very important man was paying close attention to Ana, and he was her boss, no less. For all he knew, this man was the one who made her so miserable that it drove her to attempt to take her own life. He could be physically or emotionally abusing her.

"Mr. Steele, the staff wouldn't share with me what Ana's condition was, since I'm not family. My employee, Jason Taylor, he's the one who called to inform you about Ana being brought here. I've been awaiting your arrival so I can find out how she is. What did the doctor say?"

Ray observed him for another half minute, noting the nervous way he ran his hands through his hair, the way his eyes seemed to harden at the fact that the staff wouldn't give him any information. He could practically smell the desperation on this man, but what he was desperate about, Ray had no idea. This man, with his two henchmen. What if they wanted to harm her? Until he talked to Ana, he wasn't going to give anyone any more ammunition to hurt her any further.

"Mr. Steele?" an elderly woman in a pink jacket drew both of their attentions. "I can take you to your daughter's room now." She looked between the two men, then added. "Two can come into the room at a time, if you approve."

Ray slide his gaze over to meet Christian's who was already staring at him with a sharp intensity.

"Just me," he said gruffy, nodding toward the doorway. "Please lead the way, ma'am."

"Mr. Steele-" Christian called out, his tone that of legitimate shock.

But Ray just kept walking.

He needed to see his daughter. If she wanted to see this Christian Grey, she could tell him that herself when she woke up.

There was someone sitting in her room, a nursing assistant who was introduced to him as Annie's 'sitter', someone who would be in the room with her at all times due to the hospital's suicide protocols. The woman agreed to let him have a few minutes alone with his daughter, and left them in peace.

As he walked into her room and caught sight of her slight little body in the oversized hospital bed, Ray felt sick. She was so still, he looked like she could have been dead. She could have been dead, he thought morbidly. He could be here identifying her body. A lump formed in his throat as the back of his eyes stung with unshed tears. He took in a deep breath, blowing it out, willing the intense pain to subside. He wasn't gone. She was here. And he would help her.

He took a seat on the chair that was pulled up next to the bed, noticing her wrists were tethered to the rails of the beds by soft blue restraints. What the hell? Why was she restrained? He stood back up, leaning over her bed to press the 'call nurse' button that was above her head. He wanted to know why she needed to be tied to her bed. He heard a ding, alerting him that the button had worked, and leaned back again. But as he looked down at her from this vantage point, he noticed something else. There was some discoloration around her neck. He touched it carefully, examining her skin. Bruising. This was definitely bruising.

Multiple things flashed through his head at one. They said she took pills right? Had he misheard? Had she tried to hang herself? That thought was immediate squashed. No, she definitely took pills. And these bruises were nothing like what ones from a rope would do. So what was this brusing from? Could it be a side effect of the suicide attempt? He didn't know how, but- If it wasn't did that mean… Did someone put their hands on her? Around her neck? By the time the nurse came in, he was in a full fledged internal panic.

"Your light is on, can I help you?" she asked, ducking her head into the room.

"My daughter… these bruises? On her neck? And the things, the restraints, on her wrists? Why- What-," he said quickly, gesturing to her neck and arms.

The nurse gave him a sympathetic smile. "Are you her father?"

"Yes."

"Mr. Steele, the restraints are part of the protocol for a patient of suicide watch. We don't know Ana's state of mind, so when she wakes up, we need to make sure she's unable to harm herself. After she gets evaluated and treated by one of the hospital's psych physicians, we can discuss removing them. Until then, it's for her safety."

"And the bruising?"

"The bruising is something we have questions about as well, I'm afraid. Your daughter came in with it, so we can only speculate at this point. It appears to be pretty recent, maybe couple of days old at most. It's a little difficult to tell, a little deceiving to the eye since her blood pressure is so low and she looks so pale. In addition to the bruising on her neck, she has marks and bruising on her wrists and thighs. When she wakes, we will ask her about how she got them. We want to make sure she's safe. And if she's not, it might explain why she was felt ending her life was a way out of a bad situation. It's important we get her help, get her proper treatment."

Ray thanked the nurse, then saddled up on the side of Annie's bed, tucking his hand in hers and giving it a gentle squeeze.

He only realized he'd drifted off when he felt a gentle squeeze on his own hand some time later. His eyes focused and the haze slowly left his brain and he watched the pale, thin fingers squeeze his, then release, only to squeeze again. He lifted his head off the bed, looking up and into wide, scared blue eyes.

"Daddy?"