I'm sorry in advance but there will be another delay in posting the next chapter I'm going away for 4 days so wont be able to write during that time. So sorry about that but I'll try and get another chapter out as soon as I can.

CHAPTER 7

Nick was tranferred to a general ward during the afternoon. Being a member of the LVPD did have its benefits at times - he had scored a private room.

The relaxation techniques which Nick learnt that evening helped him settle into sleep quicker than the previous night. It didn't stop the nightmares though and he was being woken up by dark memories regularly. His father remained by his side throughout the night getting up and down in response to his sons screams and cries, settling him back into sleep and trying to catch some rest in between times. The hours dragged by until, at last, the first rays of light appeared out the hospital window.

Roger Stokes sat forward in the chair and rubbed weary hands across his face. He looked over at his son who had finally settled into a deep sleep almost an hour and a half earlier. The noise of early morning staff changes drifted through the closed door. He rested his chin on his hands - arms resting upright on his knees - he watched Nick, concern etched in his face - how in the hell was his boy going to get back on his feet after this.

He thought back to that phone call from Catherine. He had always thought, naively he now realised, that the hard part of parenting was done. He and Jillian had created and raised seven wonderful children who he loved more than life itself. He had always been busy with his career and wasn't at home as much as he would have liked, but he had always been there for his kids when they needed him. He had been the disciplinarian and at times had needed to come down hard, he had endured sleepless nights with worry about one or another of his children, he had felt pain and fear like he had never experienced, but more than anything he had experienced a love he had never thought possible. Now, he had seven well adjusted, well educated children, all independent and living their own successful lives, producing much loved and eagerly anticipated grandchildren and it was time to enjoy the fruits of his labor.

And yet, in the space of one phone call, this wonderful life imploded and he was reminded savagely that being a concerned parent never ends. The sudden burst of fear for his youngest child was as sharp as a knife to the chest. Telling his wife of 46 years that their boy was in grave danger was the hardest thing he had ever had to do. The helplessness was all consuming.

And it got so much worse.

Standing in front of that monitor watching his son lying defeated and defenseless in that damned box. He would gladly have changed places with his Pancho if it could have saved him even one more minute of terror. The wait was agonising. It was almost too much for him to take.

Finally the word had come through. His son had been found...alive! He and Jillian had rushed to his side, had promised him it was over, that he was safe. The relief was indescribable.

And then, the nightmares the panic attacks. Seeing his strong, vibrant, loving son reduced to the frightened, angry, terrorised shell of the person he had once been - well, that just broke his heart again.

He pushed up from the chair and moved to the side of the bed. Nick was soundly asleep. The ant bites were beginning to heal, those that hadn't ruptured were losing their redness and were going down. The scabbed over ruptured sights were healing too, although several on his arms were still open as Nicks hands rubbed and scratched them during his acute panic attacks. There would be several scars to remind him of his ordeal.

Roger grazed a hand through Nicks short hair and lay it against the side of his head, his thumb rubbing Nicks temple gently.

After a moment, he stood straight, stretched and headed out to the small kitchenette attached to the nurses station. It was a facility for the patients and their families and had been much appreciated by Judge Stokes during the night. He made himself a strong cup of coffee and chatted to the male nurse who was on morning shift and would be caring for Nick.

Standing just outside the room, Judge Stokes heard the soft cries and moans signalling the start of another round of dreams. He got back to Nicks side fast enough to settle him into deep sleep again without him waking fully. He pulled up the seat close to the edge of the bed and pulled the previous days newspaper off the bedside cabinet and started re-reading the news, sipping on his coffee as he did so.
It was nearly another hour by the time Jillian Stokes arrived to take over watch from her husband. Nick was still sleeping but was getting closed to waking, becomming more restless as he got closer and closer to consciousness.

Jillian and Roger sat close together talking softly. Jillian had been in contact with their other children the previous evening and had kept them up to date with Nicks condition. Roger filled Jillian in on the nights events. They were discussing their plans for extending their stay in Las Vegas when Roger sensed being watched. He looked across at his son and saw two tired dark eyes looking back, at half mast as if they were too heavy to keep open.

Roger and Jillian both smiled tenderly at Nick. Jillian got to her feet and moved to the side of the bed. Leaning over him she brushed gentle fingers through his hair and pulled the blanket up, tucking it in around his shoulders. She continued to stroke his hair and smiled in satisfaction as she watched his eyes lose their fight to stay open. Another hour or two, she thought, and it might be enough to get him through the rest of the day.

Jillian sat back next to her husband once Nick was settled again and leant into his body as his arm came around her in support.

"I think we should take him home with us." she said quietly.

Roger Stokes leant across and lay a gentle kiss on top of her head.

"That's not our decision, Jill." he answered. "We have to let Nick control the controllables." His arm tightened briefly around his wife as he felt her stiffen, preparing her arguement.

As she opened her mouth to retaliate, Roger cut her off. "We cant take that away from him. We have to help him get back on his feet without suffocating him".

"But he needs us to support him." argued Jillian.

"And we will. But he needs his independence, Jill. We can stay with him here if he wants or he can come home with us. But either way, it has to be his choice. He's been through enough. That son of a bitch took away our boys confidence. He took away his faith in the goodness of people. I can't take away his right to make decisions. I can't do that to him."

Jillian wiped the stray tear from her eye and squeezed her husbands hand tightly. She felt a deep upsurge of love for him. His concern and compassion for his childrens welfare was one of the many things she adored about him and was one of the key reasons their marriage had been so strong for so many years.

She nodded and squeezed his hand again as his embraced tightened again. Roger rested his lips again her hair. They sat, content with the closeness of each other, both watching over their sleeping son.

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