Hayden had just snapped his phone shut and joined the others at the table. "Well, you'd better find him fast. That was Chief Owens." He paused and then sighed. "Marty Walsh was just found dead in the alley behind the Overboard."

The room was quiet for a moment before a voice broke the silence. "Shit," said Doug.

"What the hell happened?" asked a stunned Detective Michaels.

"Shot once, point blank, in the head. More precisely, right through the tattoo on his temple," replied Hayden.

"Shit," said Doug again, still shocked by the news.

"Anyone see anything?" asked CSI Hicks.

"Of course not. They never do around that neighborhood," answered Hayden.

"Maybe we can recover and trace the bullet then," said Hicks.

"No need." Hayden sighed. The gun was left lying on his chest. You know what that means."

"Yeah. Untraceable," she said.

"Yep."

"All right," Hicks said as she got up from the table. "I'll get back to the lab and get a rush on that DNA test."

"Thanks, Angie," said Michaels.

"I'll keep you posted," she said as she left the room.

The men sat at the table looking at one another without speaking. They were all thinking the same thing, and finally Fuller said it out loud. "Eckert killed him."

Michaels nodded. "Or had him killed. Either way, knowing Eckert there won't be any evidence to trace."

"All right, gentlemen," Hayden said as he headed for the door. "I need to get back and cancel some paperwork. Do me a favor. Find this other guy so I don't have to cancel all of the paperwork." He left the room, closing the door behind him.

"Want me to tell Tom?" Doug asked.

"Let's wait a bit…" said Michaels, "…give the lab a chance to run that DNA…see if they can up with anything."

"Yeah," Fuller agreed. "At least if we can come up with the other guy, the news won't be as bad."

"Michaels," the detective said as he answered his phone two days later.

"Mark, it's Adam. Hey, we heard that CSI got a hit on that hair DNA. What's up?"

Michaels leaned back in his desk chair and smiled. "You must have been reading my mind. I was just getting ready to call you."

"You want us to go with you to get him?" asked Fuller.

"Not necessary. But you can come down here and question him with us. Say…oh…in about an hour?"

"What?! What's going on?"

"You're not gonna believe this one. Before I could even make the call for an arrest warrant, the guy was down at the front desk turning himself in." Michaels chuckled in spite of the seriousness of the situation.

"Are you kidding me?" asked the captain.

"Nope. His name is Marvin Kern…punk from over in Chesterfield. He's got a light record like Walsh, but he's been known to get into a nasty bar fight now and then. Anyway, seems he got wind of Walsh's murder and got scared…figured he was safer in here than out there."

"And he's probably right."

"I would have to agree," replied Michaels. "So I'll see you in about an hour?"

"You got it."

Tom sat in the leather chair, tapping his fingers against his knee. He hated that he still felt nervous when talking to Dr. Hirsch. He had met with the psychologist several times and was growing more and more comfortable with him. But as nice and as helpful as the man was, Tom could not stop the way his hands shook and his heart pounded every time he had an appointment.

Dr. Hirsch had offered to come to Tom's mother's house for this first meeting since Tom had left the hospital, but Tom had politely declined the offer and told the doctor he would meet with him in his office at the hospital. There weren't many opportunities these days for Tom to leave the house, so he looked forward to getting out, even if it meant bringing his mother with him…and the undercover officer that followed them.

"So," asked Dr. Hirsch, "how are things at your mom's house? Are you feeling comfortable there? Or have you thought about going home at all?"

"It's okay," Tom replied. "I hate that she feels like she has to take care of me…but…I can't really go anywhere right now…not until they arrest him."

"Are you afraid he's going to come after you? Or your mom?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't he? He has nothing to lose." Tom sat back in the chair and stuck one finger in his mouth, chewing on a nail.

Dr. Hirsch studied the young man in front of him. He thought Tom was showing great progress so far, all things considered. But he knew that things would be changing soon in a very big way, and he wondered how his patient would fare. "They'll catch him soon, Tom."

"I know."

"And then what?" asked the psychologist.

"Huh?" Tom looked puzzled.

"And then what? How do you feel about testifying and facing him in court?"

Tom shook his head. "I don't feel anything about it. I don't think about it."

"That day is going to come, Tom. It might be best if we started thinking about how we're going to handle it," the doctor said gently.

We. He had said "we", not "you". Tom felt himself relaxing a bit, reassured once again that he was not going to be left to fend alone in this. "Yeah." He nodded. "You're right."

Marvin Kern was a stocky man, muscle bound on top with a beer gut on bottom. His off-shade of red hair hung below his ears but was spotty in places, his bare scalp shining under the hot lights of the interrogation room. "I knew Marty would snitch," he said to Fuller, Michaels, and Doug. "He should have known Lee wasn't dicking around when he said he'd kill us if we talked. I ain't afraid of much, but that guy…he scares the shit out of me."

"That so?" asked Michaels. "I thought you didn't know him."

"I don't have to know him much to know I didn't want anything more to do with him. He told me he just wanted help knocking the guy around, but damn…it just got worse and worse. I'm not into that kind of shit, man…I mean, fuck, he almost killed the guy!" His face fell as a thought occurred to him. "Aw shit…he didn't die, did he? Did that guy die?"

Michaels and Fuller looked at each other without speaking before Michaels said, "He almost killed the guy? From what I understand, you did a lot of the kicking yourself…and helped hold him while Eckert beat him. That's accessory at the minimum, in addition to the kidnapping."

Kern looked panicked. "I didn't mean to! I…we…we were just gonna take him out there and beat him up…that's what Lee said. Then we got there and…after the guy passed out we were waiting around…smoking…Lee had a bottle of whiskey with him…we were passing it around. After that…" Kern leaned his elbows on the table, running a hand over his face. He shook his head and continued, "After that everything was kind of crazy. I mean, we were buzzed…and Lee…I didn't know what he was going to do, I swear. But I just…I just got caught up in it all. And things went too far."

"Yeah," said Michaels, "they did. You know, after you left, you could have called the police…anonymously or not…had them send somebody out there to help."

"I was out of it. I didn't care, man…not then," replied Kern.

"Oh, but now you do?" asked Fuller.

Kern was quiet and lowered his eyes before answering quietly, "Yeah…I do."

"Why?" asked Doug, speaking up for the first time. "Because now you think Eckert is coming after you? He's gonna kill you like he did Walsh? Or maybe do to you what he did to 'that guy' out in the park?!"

Kern looked at Doug and shook his head. "No."

"Why then?"

"Because I can't sleep at night."

At that both Michaels and Fuller laughed out loud. "Awww…now you have a conscience, do you, Marv?" asked Michaels.

Kern shook his head again. "It ain't my conscience. It's that scream." He looked at them, his eyes wide. "I never heard nothin' like that. When Lee…when he…the guy was gagged, but…it was awful…it made me sick. I…I keep hearing it now. I just want it to stop." He lowered his head, avoiding eye contact with the others.

Michaels sighed as he looked at the other men, their faces as somber as his. He looked back at the suspect. "Marvin?"

Kern looked up with tear-filled eyes at the detective.

"Did you know 'the guy' you attacked was a cop?"

The tears overflowed then and fell down his cheeks as Kern's lips began to tremble. He shook his head. "No…no, I didn't…I…I didn't mean to do it…please…I'm sorry…I'm sorry."

"We're done," said Michaels.

Kern hung his head as he got up with the officer to leave. Before reaching the door, however, he turned and asked, "Did he die?" Getting no response, he continued shouting as he was led from the room, "Did that guy die?! Did he die?!!"

"I don't understand it."

"What don't you understand, Tom?" asked Dr. Hirsch.

"It's like…when I turn on the TV…I don't know why everything looks…normal. And when I go out…same thing. Everyone just looks the same as before, but…I'm not the same. They keep on doing what they do and I feel like I'm…stuck." Tom looked at the doctor and shrugged.

"Stuck how?"

"Stuck…in one place. It feels like…after what happened…everybody goes on like before. Except me."

Dr. Hirsch leaned forward. "Look, Tom…I know it seems like that right now. But things are going to get better. I promise you that. I think…especially once the trial is behind us…we can really get down to business and help you move forward from this."

Tom nodded, but looked unconvinced.

"You don't have to feel alone in this," the psychologist continued. "Sexual assault is one of the most prevalent crimes in the nation. Almost everyone knows someone who has been affected in some way by it."

"Yeah, but…" Tom stopped and looked down at his hands, twisting nervously in his lap.

"But what?"

Tom swallowed hard before looking back up. "But…that's women." He looked back down at his hands.

"Well," said Dr. Hirsch, "that may be true…about the knowing, that is. But that's because assaults on males are tremendously underreported. The fact is though that less than 10 percent of sexual assaults on men are reported to the authorities. There are a lot of men out there that this has happened to, Tom."

"I didn't even have a chance…or a choice…to report it or not. Everybody already knew."

"Unfortunately that's one of the effects of rape…to make the victim feel like he has no control. It's a power thing, really…not a sex thing."

Tom nodded but did not say anything, casting his eyes downward again.

Dr. Hirsch continued, "What the attacker wants is to make his victim feel powerless…to dominate him and the situation."

Tom nodded again, still not looking up, and sniffed a little, swiping the back of his hand across his cheek.

"With men especially, the goal is to make them feel humiliated…to tear them down as low as they can go and make them feel like they've done something wrong and even that it's their fault that this is happening to them."

With those last words, Tom's shoulders began to shake and he put his hands over his face as he started to cry in earnest.

"Is that how you feel, Tom?" asked Hirsch softly.

Face still buried in his hands, Tom barely managed to choke out a "yeah" between sobs.

Dr. Hirsch let the young man cry for a few moments before he said, "None of that is true, Tom. I know you feel that way, and we'll work on it…but none of it is true. Don't give him the power to make you believe that it's true."

Tom's head hung and he sniffed back more tears. "But he…I…" He shook his head. "I should have gone into the house…right away. I…I should have…tried harder to get away…yelled…"

"It wasn't your fault, Tom. I could sit here and justify it a hundred ways, but bottom line is…it wasn't your fault."

Still refusing to look up at the doctor, Tom tried furiously to wipe more tears off of his face, but still they continued to fall. "I was just doing my job. Why did he do that to me? He was the bad guy…he's supposed to be in jail. Why'd they let him out? Why did he do that to me?"

"You already answered that. He's a bad guy. And you're right. He should be in jail. This shouldn't have happened to you," said Dr. Hirsch.

Tom then spoke something so quietly that the doctor had to ask him to repeat it. Tom looked up, his face still wet with tears and his eyes wide. "I wanted to die," he whispered again.

"Tom…" Hirsch began.

"I did," Tom interrupted. "I thought it would never stop. They just kept…they just…kept hurting me…I couldn't breathe…and everything hurt so bad and they…wouldn't stop."

Dr. Hirsch sat quietly and let Tom continue.

"And he…he was…God…" Tom had to pause a moment as he was overcome with emotion again. His hands were shaking despite being clenched together so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. "He was touching me…all over…had his mouth on me…saying…things…in my ear."

The doctor noticed as a visible shudder ran through his patient.

"Then…he…he was fucking me…they were holding me down and…I was screaming…crying…trying to beg him to stop, but…" Tom shook his head. He covered his face as he began to sob again at the memories.

"You didn't die, Tom. There's a reason for that. You're a survivor," said Hirsch.

"But I wanted to," Tom mumbled as he fought to regain control over his emotions.

"But you didn't."

"Then…they left me there…and I kept waking up. Jesus…every time I woke up I just…I just thought why the fuck can't I just die?" He looked up at the doctor. "What's the point in living after that?"

"Do you still feel that way?" asked Hirsch.

Tom took at deep breath, trying to compose himself. "I don't know." He sniffed. "Sometimes. I guess."

"When?"

"When I think about going back to work. When I think about testifying. When I think about trying to have sex again. When I have the dreams. When I see my mom looking at me like…like her heart is breaking," Tom replied.

"We can work on all of that. Together. Okay? But let me tell you this…I know an awful lot of people who are happy you're still around. And they worked really hard to find you…to help you…and they're still doing that, Tom. You have some great friends and family who care a lot about you and who want to help you through this."

"I know," said Tom. "I know. I'll…we'll work on it. It'll be okay. It will."

In the waiting area, Tom's mother rose from her chair when he came out of the psychologist's office. She was used to seeing him drained from his sessions with the doctor, but today he looked especially worn out. "Hey, sweetie…how did it go?"

Tom forced a smile. "It went good."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

She reached a hand out and touched his cheek, smiling. "Okay. Let's go then."

"I'll be down in a minute, okay?" he said.

Margaret looked confused. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'll be right there."

"Okay," she replied hesitantly with a concerned look. "I'll go ahead and pull the car around front."

Tom waited and watched his mother get into the elevator before he stepped in front of it and pushed the "up" button. He got in and then nervously put his hands into the front pockets of his jeans as he waited for the elevator to stop and the bell to ding, indicating that he had reached the fifth floor.

He stepped out into the bright lights of the ward. The smell of medicine and disinfectant triggered a gag reflex which he quickly fought down. He shook his head slightly to knock away the memories that the smell brought forth and walked down the hall and around the corner. He stepped up to the counter unnoticed and cleared his throat, uttering a shy, "Hi."

Bright, kind, blue eyes and a beaming smile greeted him. "Hey, hon'!" Helen got up from her chair and came around the counter, pulling him into a warm hug. "How are you doing, sweetie?" she asked.

"Doing better," he said as she let go of him. "I just wanted to…I didn't get to see you before I left, and I just…" He stopped speaking as he started to choke up.

"Awww…" Helen said, placing a hand on his arm. "Don't you worry about it, hon'."

"But…I wanted to thank you," he said. "You were so good to me."

She smiled warmly at him and rubbed his arm affectionately. "You were a good patient…never argued with me…lights out on time…ate all your Jello."

Tom laughed a little.

Helen noticed that his eyes were red and asked, "Have you been to see Dr. Hirsch today?"

He nodded, "Yeah…just on my way out."

Her face grew serious for a moment, and she took his hands in hers and looked into his eyes. "Now you listen to me, hon'," she said, her voice low so that no one else could hear. "I know you've been through a lot…stuff no one should have to go through. But you're gonna be okay. You hear me?"

"Yeah," he said as he nodded.

"I mean it. I know these things. You've got a good heart and a strong soul, and you've got a purpose in this world. Don't let anyone take that away from you. Okay?"

"Okay."

"You take care of yourself, hon'," Helen said as she pulled him into another hug, one that he gratefully returned.

"Thank you, Helen," he whispered into her ear. "Thank you."

Hey everyone! Hope you're still reading and enjoying! Don't be shy about telling me what you think. :-)

And I want to send a shout out to the anonymous reviewers...the ones who don't have a FanFiction profile so that I can respond personally to their reviews. I really do appreciate every one of you and thank you for all of the kind words. :-) I try to respond to every review, so I wanted to make sure that you all were included and know that I do appreciate it!