Chapter 12

The last person Jaime expected (or wanted) to see on her door step was 'Elmira Gultch'! Where'd you park your broomstick? she thought to herself as she looked through the screen.

''Oscar Goldman and Doctor Conrad sent me to check on you,'' Irene explained.

Politeness forced Jaime to open the door. ''I'm okay,'' she insisted, grudgingly motioning the hated therapist into the living room. ''I'll be even better when Steve comes home.''

''That's what we need to talk about,'' Irene told her, taking a seat in the rocking chair. Jaime curled up in a corner of the sofa and Irene continued. ''I know you don't like me - and that's alright. It doesn't mean we can't work together, at least for now.''

In Jaime's mind, if Oscar had sent the woman it was one more strike against her. She had no choice but to obey the man but she resented the power he held over her family and certainly didn't trust his motives...or Irene's, for that matter. For now, she stared non-verbally at the interloper.

''Steve will be released from the hospital tonight,'' Irene told her. ''Mr. Goldman is not pressing any charges against him, so he's free to come home - if you have no objections, that is.''

''Objections? He's my husband!''

''Will you feel safe having him return home, after everything that's happened?''Irene queried. Jaime flinched. The woman had managed to hit a raw emotional nerve. Irene leaned closer. ''There IS a worry there, isn't there?''

''No!'' Jaime insisted. ''Well...not really. I mean, Steve would never hurt me - not on purpose. But...something happened to him...when he went to see Anna. It was almost like...he wasn't himself anymore...like she got to him somehow...

Irene had read her reluctant patient's chart completely - and Steve's too (at Oscar's request). She though mind control was the most ridiculous concept she'd ever heard of but another fact had jumped off the page for her and she had to bring it up. So his attitude toward you was different after he'd been to see his mistress?'' she probed.

Jaime was flabbergasted. ''What? No! Anna is not his mistress!''

Irene smiled sadly at what she saw as complete denial on Jaime's part. ''He slept with her, did he not?''

''Are you an idiot?'' Jaime exploded. ''This is my house! I don't have to listen to you. I don't have to talk to you...and you need to hop back onto your broomstick and go to...I don't care where you go...Just find the door. It's the same one...you came in from...and use it!''

Jaime leaped from the sofa, turned her back to the therapist, then flounced into Becca's room and stayed there until she heard the front door open and close. Only then did Jaime emerge to finish lunch with the nurse. Everything seemed off-kilter and Irene's words had helped absolutely no one - but everything would be fine in a few more hours when Steve came home. Wouldn't it? Jaime hoped so, but which version of Steve would be returning home to her? Her husband (and Becca's doting father)...or the man who had threatened to take her hostage? Jaime didn't know what to expect...and barely even knew who to trust!

Michael supervised his patient's discharge closely, made the appropriate notes in her file, dutifully reported her progress to Oscar,then hurried to his lab to hunch over his latest discovery. If it worked - and he was positive that it would - Jaime would be able to avoid further surgery...but that was only the tip of the iceberg! He would be able to force her brain waves in the proper, healthy direction and redeem himself in the eyes of the OSI! Michael began working feverishly, at a pace and with an intense focus he would carry on through the day and into the night, making sure everything was 'just so'. When he finished, he knew the results would be well worth it.

Mark glanced in the rearview mirror as Russ drove. When given a choice, Steve had climbed into the backseat where he coud be semi-alone with his thoughts. Mark would see his friend and patient into the house and then he and Russ would take off and give the Austins some much-needed alone time. Russ would return the therapist to OSI-Los Angeles, back into Oscar's custody where he'd once again be secured for the night. Charges seemed closer for Mark than they had been even 24 hours earlier but he was still sure he could fight them. He was grateful to Oscar for this chance to support Steve when he needed it most - and thankful to Russ for finagling his boss into allowing it.

''You're awfully quiet,'' he noted, his eyes meeting Steve's in the rearview.

Steve had to look away. While it was good to have Mark there for moral support, he really didn't feel much like talking. He'd resolved the situation with Oscar...but would he be able to do the same with Jaime? He'd harmed her (however unintentionally) and his actions had held a gravity that could have caused serious damage - both to the woman he loved so deeply and to the fabric of their marriage.

However, the more he thought about it and the more he stared wordlessly at the therapist in the front seat...the angrier Steve became. Mark had been the one who had drugged Jaime and then brought her to the ruins of National Medical. He'd also been the one who'd charged the building with a tranquilizer gun - and fired it. Steve knew this meant his jump from the window with Jaime in his arms could've been disastrous, but who, exactly, was to blame? Himself...or the therapist? Suddenly, Steve wasn't sure he could trust him. He'd say as little as possible for the rest of the drive and luckily the time passed quickly. Before he knew it, Steve was saying goodbye to the two men in the car and mounting his own front stoop.

His hand turned the knob of his own front door and Steve stepped inside...where Jaime was waiting...

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