"Go away, Doug," Tom replied without looking around.

Doug stood for a moment more before heading out the door, Helen's hard gaze following him all the way.

After Doug left, Helen approached Tom's bed and leaned over, tucking the sheets around him. He did not stir, although she knew he was awake. She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and asked, "You okay, hon'?" He nodded his head. "Do you need anything?" He shook his head. "Do you want me to stay awhile?" He nodded his head, and so she turned the small lamp off and settled into a chair. He never turned to face her, but she soon heard his breathing even out and knew that he was sleeping. The older nurse checked his blankets again and quietly left the room.

The next morning, Dr. Hirsch walked into Tom's room to find him sitting up in bed looking at a magazine, but his attention seemed focused elsewhere.

"Good morning, Tom," the doctor greeted him.

"Morning," Tom said, putting the magazine down on the bedside table.

"I heard you had kind of a rough night," said Hirsch as he took a seat.

Tom looked at him with tired eyes. "I guess," he said dully. "As usual."

"Want to tell me about it?"

"I have to, don't I? Isn't that how this works? I have no say in anything anymore."

"Come on, Tom," Dr. Hirsch said. "You know I'm on your side in all of this. I just want to help you get through it." He leaned over so he could look Hanson in the eyes. "We need to talk about things and be honest to do that."

Tom sighed, resigned to his situation. "They just…they came and asked me more questions. They're trying to catch everyone." He paused before adding, "They've already got Eckert."

Dr. Hirsch observed his patient. Tom had told him the basics of what had happened, and he knew his feelings about pursuing charges against those involved. "I know that's not what you want, Tom, but have you thought any more about our last conversation?"

"Yeah," Tom replied without looking up.

"And?"

"I don't know." Tom shook his head. "Damn it…I know…I…I have to, don't I?" He looked at the doctor.

"Yeah, you do, Tom." The doctor was glad to see that Tom seemed a little more accepting of it now. "But I promise you…I'm going to help you get through it. And your friends and your mom…we're all going to be with you the whole way. Okay?"

Tom nodded, biting his lip. "Okay," he said quietly. After a moment he seemed to brighten and said, "I think they're going to let me go home tomorrow. If…if you think it's okay."

Dr. Hirsh smiled. "I think it's great. Do you feel like you're ready?"

"Yeah. I'm gonna stay with my mom for a while. I'm still…you know…I don't really wanna…"

"I know. It's okay," said the doctor. "Let's just take small steps for now. You're making really great progress, Tom. I think you're going to be just fine."

Tom smiled, a little bit of light shining in his eyes, and said, "Thanks."

"Anything yet?"

"Nope. Sorry," CSI Angie Hicks replied to Doug's question. "It takes time."

"We don't have time," Doug said as he leaned farther over her shoulder, trying to see the computer screen.

"Penhall! Get the hell off my back!" she said, irritated, as she squirmed away from him. "I'm doing the best that I can."

Doug backed away but sat down in a desk chair and rolled up next to the annoyed CSI.

Angie sighed. "Look. I know this is priority one, but you really didn't give me much to go on." She raised her eyebrows at him. "An old, brown car?"

"With four doors," Doug added.

"Yeah, that helps," she said, rolling her eyes. "White guy with long hair?"

"And a tattoo on his face."

"Lightning bolt on the left temple. Got it. But…I'm sorry. It's just not a lot to go on."

Doug ran his hand across his face. "I know," he said. "I'm sorry. I know you're doing your best. It's just…this guy's gonna walk in…" He checked his watch. "Less than 24 hours if we don't come up with something. The D.A. said we don't have enough to charge him."

Angie stared at the computer screen as it continued to search the various databases. "I think it's ridiculous. Just because this asshole makes up some bullshit story to throw doubt on the case…"

"Yeah," said Doug. "But…shit…then there's the damn sheet. How the fuck did he manage to pull that off?"

Angie shook her head. "I don't know. But it was there, just like he said it would be…his semen and Hanson's blood and semen on it." She hesitated before asking quietly, "Look…I don't know Hanson, but…do you…is there any possibility that Eckert's telling the truth?"

Doug's eyes grew wide in surprise, the quickly narrowed in anger. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

"I'm just asking. Is there any way it's possible?"

"No, it's not possible!" Doug shouted, standing up. "You people need to get your asses back over to that apartment and find the real evidence!"

"What evidence?!" Angie shouted back, just as loud, and standing as well. "There isn't any more! We've been over it and over it, and the only thing we found says your partner is lying!"

"You shut the fuck up!" Doug yelled, his finger in her face. "You don't know what the hell you're talking about!"

"I know I've got a 'victim' who's not cooperating and a suspect with a pretty good version of the events!"

"You're supposed to be helping us, not going off on some…"

"HEY!" a voice boomed from the doorway.

The officer and the CSI stopped shouting at each other and looked toward the door to find the lab director standing there with a very angry look on his face.

"Cut it out, you two! Hicks…in my office. Now!" the director commanded.

Angie gave Doug one last glare before following her supervisor out of the room, leaving the officer still fuming. With a frustrated sigh, he headed for the door but stopped in his tracks as he heard the computer behind him start beeping. He turned and walked back to the desk, leaning over to look at the blinking type on the screen.

"Match found."

Fuller, Penhall, Hicks, and Michaels sat around the conference table in Michaels' office, coffee and a half a box of doughnuts filling the space between them. "Okay, here's what we know," said the detective. "We got seven hits on the tattoo. Three of those guys are currently incarcerated, and one of them has been deceased for over a year. The other three all have spotty records, but nothing as violent and hardcore as this."

"Doesn't mean one of them didn't help. Tom said these other two didn't participate much," said Doug.

"I know," replied Michaels. "We can try to track them down for questioning, but unless Tom can identify one of them then we're going to have to hope for some kind of evidence linking one of them to the crime."

"What about the car?" asked Fuller.

"We don't have enough search factors to get a hit in the database on it," said Hicks. "We're going through the DMV records for the other three tattoo guys, but I haven't heard anything yet."

Michaels sighed. "We've only got a few hours left to hold Eckert."

Doug shook his head as he stood up. "Well, I gotta go. Tom should be home by now. I need to let him know what's going on."

"We'll keep you posted. Tell him I'll stop by later," said Fuller. "And Doug?"

"Yeah?"

"We're going to get them. We are going to finish this."

Doug walked up to the house and rang the doorbell. He still wasn't sure how this was going to turn out, but he knew he had to do it. The door opened and Margaret Hanson smiled at him.

"Hi, Mrs. Hanson. I uh…is it okay if I see Tom?"

She gestured with her head toward the couch in the living room, then walked back into the kitchen, leaving Doug to peer into the house. He saw Tom sitting on the couch wearing a white t-shirt and a pair of lounge pants, drinking a glass of iced tea. Doug entered the house and closed the door behind him. Tom looked up at him but did not say anything.

"Hey, Tom," Doug began. "How are you doing?"

"I'm okay," Tom answered.

Doug walked over and sat down in a recliner next to the couch. "You look good." The truth was, though, that his partner looked almost as bad as he had when he was first found a week ago. The bruises had turned all sorts of colors, the jagged stitches in his lips were prominent, and the wounds on his wrists were still angry looking despite having scabbed over. The only difference was that he was no longer covered in blood.

"Yeah?" asked Tom. "Thanks." He didn't believe it any more than Doug did, but he set his glass down and pulled his legs up so that he was sitting cross-legged on the couch and looked at his friend. "I'm sorry about the other night."

"Hey, don't be sorry, man," Doug answered. "I know how you feel. I mean…I don't really know…but…geeze, hell…I don't know what I'm trying to say."

Tom laughed. "It's okay. I feel better about it now. I talked to Dr. Hirsch a lot yesterday."

Doug felt a huge weight lift off of his shoulders. It was great to see Tom smiling and optimistic. And it seemed like he didn't hold a grudge either about their questioning that night. "Yeah? I'm really glad."

"Me too. I guess…I shouldn't have taken it out on you guys. I know you're just trying to help. I'm still not really happy about it, but…" Tom took a deep breath. "I know those guys need to be put behind bars. So…if I can help, then that's what I need to do."

"I know it's going to be hard. But we'll help you with it."

"I know," Tom replied. "I appreciate it. It's just…you don't know…I mean, you can't know…you don't have any idea what it's like to have this happen. Shit, I still don't know how I feel about it. I just try to forget about it most of the time, but then I have nightmares and I can't do anything about that. I just figured this was something I could control…you know, whether or not I testified and everything. And I don't want to think about it anymore."

"But now you think you can do it? You want to?" Doug asked.

Tom smiled and nodded. "Yeah. I think I can."

Margaret appeared in the kitchen doorway. "Doug? You want some tea?"

"Sure, that'd be great!" he answered. "I can get it though." He got up and followed her into the kitchen. She already had a glass out and was pouring it for him when his cell phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out and looked at the screen, then cursed under his breath.

"Everything okay?" Margaret asked.

"Huh? Oh yeah. Yeah, it's fine," he said, smiling. He took his glass and thanked her, then went back to his chair in the living room. But he had no idea what to do next.

"What's the matter?" asked Tom.

Doug thought a moment before speaking. Tom had finally come around to accepting the fact that they were going to prosecute these guys. He was feeling stronger about it and ready to do what he had to do. And now this. "You know, we're trying to find those other guys?"

"Yeah," Tom said apprehensively. "What about it?"

"And we had Eckert."

"Had?" Tom was beginning to feel nauseous.

Doug looked up at his friend and sighed. "I just got a text. They had to let him go."

I know this one isn't very long. Sorry about that. I haven't updated in a while tho, and I really wanted to get something posted for you. I hope it will do for now. :-) And besides, I'm feeling the need for an ego boost after a couple of rough days, so some reviews will help. :-) Thanks again to everyone who is reading! I really appreciate it!