Chapter 4:

John was holding precariously tight onto his emotions since he had gotten that call from Lionel earlier that morning. Those feelings had been threatening to overpower his sensibilities ever since the DNA and finger prints were traced back to Zoe and now the confirmation that she was drugged and possibly assaulted. But now those emotions were perilously close to exploding, and that he could not afford. He had to keep calm and not lose his head.

He glanced at his trembling hands and was troubled to see his white knuckles clasped fiercely around the handlebars of his bike.

"Son of a bitch!" The words tumbled out of him in quiet rage.

"Well, there's no sense asking if you're alright."

John had forgotten for a moment that Finch could hear him as well as what was going on in the interrogation room.

"What's going on in there Finch?" John asked, effectively sidestepping the comment.

"Detective Carter is taking Miss Morgan to the hospital right now for a sexual assault exam," Finch attempted to say it as lightly as he could.

"What are you going to do Mr. Reese?"

The mortification grew in her chest; it was almost difficult to breathe. Tears threatened her armor of indifference, but she rejected the urge. Not here. Not now. Not where anyone can see.

First, came the questions.

When was your last period? Two weeks ago.

Are you sexually active? Yes.

When was the last time you had sex? Last evening.

What method of contraception do you use? Pills and condoms.

Do you remember anything about what happened? Absolutely nothing.

Then the actual physical exam, although no different than an annual exam, it brought up feelings completely foreign to her. Feelings of helplessness, lack of control, and guilt. Why the hell should I feel guilty? I was drugged for Christ sakes.

At the end of the exam, Zoe sat in a chair with Detective Carter next to her. The Detective had come back in after the examination was completed to hear the results.

"Miss Morgan . . ." the doctor began. "Although there is evidence of intercourse, I can't find any indication of excessive force being used. We also only found some traces of spermicidal residue, which just means that he used a condom. Other than that, I don't see any bruising, cuts, anything."

"Are you sure doctor?" Detective Carter had needed a definitive answer, but the results just muddied the waters and didn't help Zoe's case at all.

"As sure as I can be," the doctor replied. "There is no sign of injury or trauma, with Miss Morgan having had intercourse last night prior to the event, it is difficult to say."

Zoe was too embroiled in her thoughts to catch the surprised look the Detective shot her.

She just stood up and headed for the door. "Thank you Doctor."

"Miss Morgan . . ." Carter called as she hurried after Zoe, putting a sympathetic hand on her arm. "Why didn't you tell us that you had been with someone else last night? Could he have done this to you?"

Zoe shook her head and sighed. "No, Detective, he has no bearing on this case."

"Why don't you let me decide that?" Carter asked.

Not wanting to divulge any more than she should, she stated. "Detective, I have it on pretty good authority that you're a very good investigator. You probably hear this a thousand times from suspects, but I didn't do it."

"If we talk to him, it could help exonerate you."

"If push came to shove, I can tell you who he is, but only then . . . "

"Do you have any enemies Miss Morgan?"

With a quirk of her lip, she asked. "Who doesn't?"

Carter nodded. "We have to rely on the evidence."

"I understand," Zoe replied.

The Detective motioned towards the elevator, "Let's go, I can give you a ride back to your apartment."

Zoe shook her head slightly, "Thank you, but I think I'll just take a cab." Carter knew what Zoe really wanted was to be alone. Alone to take in and absorb the implications of her current predicament.

As Carter made her way to the elevators, Zoe called out. "Thank you detective."

"Thank you for what?"

"For being kind and non-judgemental."

Zoe exited the hospital via a little known side door. Leaning against the wall opposite the door, was John. He glanced up as she closed the door, his blue eyes filled with remorse.

"Hi," he said simply.

"Hey..." she began to respond. Unfortunately, dealing with the past several hours became too much for her. The tears she had fought for hours on end, through the processing at the precinct, the interrogation, and finally through exam broke through her strategically erected barriers, and Zoe broke.

She immediately felt his strong arms around her, giving her support, clasping her shaking body to his chest. John gave her all the strength and warmth he could. He hated to see her in so much pain, so he let her cry. Trying to calm and soothe her, he just stroked her hair.

There was so little in this world that he could offer her, but he knew the one thing he could give her freely was his strength; anything to reassure her that she wasn't helpless or weak. That she was still a strong woman despite the bumps in the road. He could be there for her as he knew she would for him.

As Zoe finally got her tears and breathing under control, she pulled away from him and glanced up at his worried face.

"What the hell are you doing here? Are you insane?" she groused.

"I wanted to make sure you were okay," he answered simply.

John ended his call with Carter as Zoe came out of the bathroom wearing a short robe and toweling her hair dry.

"You don't look like hell anymore," he told her.

Rolling her eyes, "Nothing like a shower and clean clothes," she replied without breaking her stride, she went straight to her dresser to get some clothes out.

"They went through the security cameras in the hotel and at David Winslow's apartment. The hotel footage shows you leaving when Meredith Lawson said you did, but they couldn't find anything of you arriving or leaving David Winslow's."

Sighing, Zoe made her way to the couch and sat down pulling her legs up to her chest. "They don't have doormen at the side entrances or the back. It's for their tenants that want some semblance of anonymity. They might have security cameras though."

She looked at John as he came over to sit next to her on the couch. What had she ever done in her entire miserable life to deserve him? He certainly had more important things to do besides save her ass every time someone had it in a sling. But yet here he was being strong and supportive, and well, just here.

Resting her chin on her drawn up knees, she stared off into space. She had always taken pride in her ability to read people and situations. To be able to know if someone wasn't telling the truth. As a fixer, it was mandatory. It was part of her job to know people.

She shifted in her seat, disconcerted. To realize that she had somewhere along the line misread someone or a situation did not sit well with her. Brought out of her thoughts, she felt John's fingers running through her hair.

"Hey . . ." he said softly. "What's going on in there?" He asked quietly cupping the back of her head.

Zoe just shook her head. "Just thinking about this whole fiasco; twenty-four hours ago, everything was right as rain, we had just . . . well, you know. Now, I've been roofied, one of my clients is dead, I had to go through the humiliation of being interrogated and examined, my sexual activities in question, I don't even know if I've been sexually assaulted for sure, and to top it all off, I'm being set up for murder."

"So, Meredith told Carter that you were the one who bought the drinks and took it back to your table. And that your drinks never left your sight. True?" John asked.

Zoe reached over to cup his cheek, then his right ear; the one that usually wore the ear bud. "I'm not even going to ask how you knew that. But yes, that's true. I excused myself once to go to the bathroom but that's it."

"So, she could have easily slipped something into your drink," John stated as he gently took her hand and held it.

Shrugging one shoulder, "I suppose so," Zoe confirmed.

"She said you never left the table. And implied that you were on edge, and anxious."

"Well, she wasn't wrong," Zoe said, staring at their clasped hands. "I was edgy and uncomfortable."

"Why?"

Zoe shrugged again. "First time I'd seen her since her ex-husband and her father were indicted," she paused and stole a glance in his direction seeing if he made the connection.