Chapter Fourteen

Danny growled in the back of his throat and he stamped his fingers heavily on the keyboard in front of him. He was getting sick and tired of finding nothing. He had gone over to the precinct to search through the files on Flack's computer about the Thorn Everidge Institution and if there was any mention of a Doctor Emerson working there. So far he had zippo. It was like there was some unseen force working against him and his team. He growled one last time, flipped off the monitor and then collapsed back in the chair, rubbing his eyes. He still wasn't completely over the crash that had happened almost a month ago and yet that didn't deter him. Flack was his best friend, the sole person who had stuck by him through thick and thin, no matter what he did. Danny paused his rubbing and simply held his hands over his face. He was tired. So God damn tired. He wasn't sleeping well, his dreams plagued with running and chasing. He would be moving through a thick blanket of black, searching...looking...he had to find something...he had to find Flack. But whenever he thought he caught a glimpse of him, it always turned out to be nothing. Just empty space. Just black. And then the ground would start to bleed, red forming under his feet and he'd wake up screaming Flack's name and shaking uncontrollably. He knew Lindsay was worried about him and he had offered to sleep in the spare room but she wasn't having any of it.

"Hey Messer," said a friendly voice.

Danny slowly pulled his hands away and stared up into the friendly face of Detective Benito Ramirez.

"Benny," Danny nodded.

"What you doing down here?" Benny asked as he perched on the end of Flack's desk.

"Just searching through some of Flack's files. Trying to match a name to a place," Danny sighed.

"Is this Flack's case?" Benny asked quietly.

"Yeah. We think we got a lead," Danny replied.

"That's great!" Benny grinned. "Grace never mentioned it."

"Oh," Danny muttered. "She might not know, we're not really supposed to be working on it so are kinda keeping our cards close to our chest."

"I see, the old hush hush!" Benny chuckled.

"Yeah," Danny smirked. "It's just doing my head in. We have the patients, we have the doctor and we have an institution. I just can't seem to connect all three up."

"The Thorn Everidge Institution?" Benny asked. "Grace mentioned that place."

"The one and same," Danny sighed. "They've guarded themselves well there. Flack and I even went up there and poked about but found nothing."

"Poked about?" Benny grinned, an eyebrow arched in amusement.

Danny grinned at him and a knowing look passed between the two detectives. "I just need a look at their files."

"Then what are you waiting for, let's go," Benny said, standing up.

"I can't just break in," Danny replied. "Unless I have a warrant any evidence I find is illegally obtained. It won't count."

"So we just have a poke around. See if you're looking in the right place. Best to know now, right?" Benny urged.

Danny tilted his head in thought and then grinned. "I can see why Flack likes you so much," he muttered as he stood up and grabbed his coat.

The two men made their way over towards the exit when Grace came through the door.

"Benny," she smiled. "Danny. Where might you two be off to?"

"Just some investigating to be done, my dear," Benny smiled.

"Benny!" Grace scolded.

"Fine. Me and Messer are going up to the Thorn Everidge Institution to have a poke about," Benny sighed.

"Pussy!" Danny muttered in his ear.

"You do know we can't get a warrant for that place and that what you would be doing now is illegal?" Grace scolded.

"So sue us," Benny shrugged, grinning cheekily as he moved past her.

She frowned even harder at him and then sighed irritably. "Fine. But I best be the one to come with you now and make sure you stay out of trouble."

Benny grinned at Danny and then the three cops made their way to the car.

Sid and Hawkes walked along the hallways of Harvard medical school in search of Professor Partridge's office. Sid had rung ahead and booked an appointment with the Dean to discuss the case. Hawkes watched Sid worriedly as they walked. The older man hadn't spoken much since discovering his old tutor might somehow be involved with the case. Hawkes knew Sid had been close to Emerson, that he had highly admired the man for the risks he'd taken in the advancement of medicine and that he was almost a type of father figure to him. Sid had mentioned him before a few times; Hawkes had never really taken much notice, normally trying to hurry Sid along in the findings of an autopsy. Now for once he wished he had shut up and listened.

"Here," Sid croaked and knocked on the wooden door stating that it was the Dean's office.

"Come in," called a pleasant voice.

Sid opened the door and then smiled at Professor Partridge.

"Geoffrey," he exclaimed, walking over and embracing the old man.

"Sidney, so lovely to see you," Partridge replied and then his gaze turned to Hawkes. "And you must be young Doctor Hawkes?"

"Nice to meet you, Sir," Hawkes smiled politely as he shook the snowy-haired man's hand.

"Please, call me Geoffrey," Partridge told Hawkes.

"It's so strange to walk these halls again," Sid sighed as he sat down at the desk opposite Partridge. Hawkes took the seat beside him.

"I can well imagine. Though it feels like home to me now," Partridge said jollily. "I've been here so long."

Partridge was an elderly English man in his seventies with a huge shock of white hair. Back in Sid's day he had been part of the teaching staff, working alongside Emerson and the other members of the faculty. After Sid had graduated, Partridge had climbed the ranks to become the Dean of the medical school and a fondly remembered Professor to all his students. He had twinkling blue eyes and a cheeky grin that told of several exploits and a life of fulfilment and enjoyment.

"Let me order some tea," Partridge added as he called through to a lady called Norma and asked for some tea. "Now, what is it you wanted to speak with me about?"

Hawkes noticed Sid's face drop slightly and once more felt worried for his friend.

"We're here to talk about Professor Emerson I believe he used to teach here," Hawkes said politely.

A dark look crossed Partridge's face but immediately disappeared and was replaced with a smile. If Hawkes hadn't been looking he would have missed it entirely.

"Old Oscar Emerson, eh?" Partridge mused. "Well of course I remember him, how could you forget someone as gifted as that..."

"He was certainly very skilled," Sid agreed as he thought back to his youth.

"You were always one of his favourites, Sidney. Weren't you in that special club of his he had for his favourite students?" Partridge asked.

Hawkes shot a look at Sid, mouth slightly agape in shock.

"Yes, yes I was," Sid murmured, scratching the back of his neck.

"What can you tell us about him?" Hawkes asked, looking worriedly between the two men.

"Oscar?" Partridge mused. "Well he was...eccentric for better want of a word, but exceedingly talented. I remember the first day I met him; there was something in his eyes that scared me, a coldness... an impassiveness as it were. He could never connect with the rest of the faculty. Apart from his favourites in his club, I don't believe he ever really connected to anyone."

"He isolated himself?" Hawkes asked.

"Not intentionally," Partridge mused. "But the other staff were...wary of him. I don't think he knew how to love another human being. He never spoke of his family or a girl. I thought perhaps he was one of those funnies, if you catch my drift, not very popular back in the day but I was wrong. He was never close to anyone."

"So did he ever speak about where he trained?" Hawkes asked. He once again glanced at Sid who was sat numbly in the chair next to him, staring at his old professor. He looked tired and strained.

"When I met him he was a trained neurosurgeon. He'd always been fascinated by the human brain and how it worked. I know he'd worked in a sanatorium in the fifties to pay his way through medical school. He once told me I wouldn't believe the things he had seen happen there," Partridge mumbled, frowning at his own words.

"He worked in a sanatorium?" Sid asked, looking like he had seen a ghost.

Just then there was a knock on the door and at Partridge's call a smart lady entered carrying a silver tray with tea things upon it. There was also a wide selection of biscuits and square mini-portions of cake.

"Mmm, help yourself," Partridge chuckled as he took a square of cake and popped it into his mouth. "Ahh, Battenberg, my favourite."

Hawkes smiled and glanced down at the cake and biscuits. Flack would have been in his element... Flack.

"So how long did he work here for?" Hawkes urged, his friend's welfare at the forefront of his mind.

"Oh... I suppose until the 1980s. His father suddenly died and he inherited a vast fortune. I suppose he no longer needed the money and left Harvard. It was all under rather a dark cloud though, rather hush hush," Partridge explained as he poured them all some tea.

"A dark cloud?" Sid said severely. "Why?"

"Well, my dear fellow, it was that club of his. The students started getting a little...obsessive. They started skipping classes to go to his meetings. The board didn't like it, they were getting scared of the power he held over the students. Surely you remember it was a little like that back in your day?" Partridge asked.

"I do," Sid replied.

"Oscar knew the most fascinating things about the brain," Partridge continued. "He was a naturally gifted fellow, a doctor before his time and experimental. Many were in awe of him but many disliked his methods. You remember, Sidney, all the students wanted to be him and they still did after you left. He was a brilliant man, inspirational and knew things about the human body that none of us could fathom."

Suddenly Partridge's phone began to ring and he answered it nodding along with his words of confirmation and then sighed.

"Gentlemen," he said as he placed the receiver back down. "I am afraid I am needed elsewhere. Please, help yourself to more tea and cake. I shall return momentarily."

Partridge stood and shuffled over to the door and then left his office. Hawkes took the opportunity to stare round at his collection of medical journals. Some were definitely first editions and Hawkes felt somewhat jealous. There were strange statues of bones and even a skull in a glass jar which looked very real to Hawkes.

"What was this club, Sid?" Hawkes asked as he turned back to his friend who sat staring at the teacup in his hands.

"Club," Sid murmured and then looked up at Hawkes. "I didn't know..."

"Didn't know what?" Hawkes asked in confusion.

"We were all in his club. Me, Hadley, Fremont, Drenebaum, Chastaine, Gadfiel..."

"Yes," Hawkes urged.

"We helped him with experiments...like the tranquiliser...and others..." Sid murmured, his voice cracking.

"Others?" Hawkes frowned.

"We experimented with body parts. We assumed...I assumed that bodies had been donated to the school by the families of the deceased for medical purposes and the advancement of our science," Sid choked.

"He had body parts and you didn't know where he got them?" Hawkes stated, slightly horrified.

Sid nodded his head ashamedly.

"What happened, Sid?" Hawkes murmured.

"I dropped out," Sid choked. "I couldn't take it. My mind wanted me to continue, knew what an excellent doctor I could be if I let Emerson influence me and teach me. But my heart was telling me something was wrong. That it was amoral to be working in the way he did. After I left his club he no longer had any time for me, though I always looked up to him and respected him."

"You did the right thing, Sid," Hawkes said as he gently placed a hand on his friend's arm.

"I did, didn't I?" Sid nodded, a tear in his eye. "Doesn't stop me from feeling any less guilty though."

Jo and Lindsay were sat in the office they shared, discussing what they had dug up on Emerson.

"It's like he just appeared out of nowhere," Lindsay sighed. "Him and his mother."

"So the first record we have of them was when Emerson was thirteen years old and his mother married oil tycoon William 'Bill' Emerson in 1948," Jo said, trying to order her thoughts logically.

"What was his original name?" Lindsay asked.

Jo shuffled through her papers, trying to find the right one.

"Ah, here it is. His name was Oscar Stacker, born to mother Margaret, no mention of a birth father," Jo replied.

"So Bill Emerson wasn't his real father?" Lindsay nodded.

"No," Jo sighed. "And there is no record of where he was born, which city or even which state!"

"Why is that, all births, deaths and marriages are recorded," Lindsay said irritably.

"Well it was just after the war, things were a bit all over the place," Jo shrugged.

"Hmmm..." Lindsay hummed, deep in thought. "Maybe he's not an American then. Maybe he was a refugee."

"That would make sense," Jo agreed. "And could be the reason we can't find details of his birth."

"So he and his mother arrive in America and she marries Emerson in 1948 to provide security for them both," Lindsay said logically.

"Then he grows up and becomes a doctor, working at Jacksonville State Hospital for the Insane during the fifties," Jo added.

"Where he no doubt had access to all kinds of patients to do with what he liked," Lindsay said bitterly. "And was probably witness to many ways of degrading and torturing men."

"The sixties was a controversial decade for psychology and psychiatry," Jo explained. "It began the movement towards deinstitutionalization an act. But the fifties, when Emerson worked in the hospital, well, treatment of mental patients was almost overlooked back then."

"Hey guys!" Adam yelled as he burst into their office, interrupting their discussion.

"What?" Jo asked.

"The plant trace...I got it...I cracked the trace...the plant...it's solved..." Adam coughed.

"Slow down, Adam," Lindsay smiled.

Adam gulped in some air while nodding and then began again. "The plant trace Hawkes was working on, I think it just needed a fresh set of eyes, a new perspective. Hawkes had deduced it was from the genus Erigeron, one of about 390 species of which 173 are indigenous to North America. I found the specific species!" Adam grinned.

"Well go on," Jo urged, rolling her eyes at Lindsay.

"Okay guys, well the plant trace is Erigeron Hyssopifolius or Daisy Fleabane as it is more commonly known. It is extremely rare and the only part of the state of New York it is known to grow is the county of Hamilton," Adam said hurriedly.

"That's north of here," Lindsay said excitedly. "The direction Mac and Flack were being taken."

"Adam," Jo said. "Cross reference Quentin Sosa's route with Hamilton County. If we do that we might be able to deduce a two to three mile area radius in which our John Doe was picked up!"

"Already done," Adam grinned as he handed Jo the pad he was holding. "And look what I found!"

The three of them huddled round the screen and stared at the satellite view of the area.

"What is that place?" Lindsay murmured. "It's huge!"

"It was supposed to be a luxury hotel," Adam explained. "But after funding ran out it fell into disrepair and was forgotten about."

"Let me guess," Jo said bitterly. "Until it was bought up by the son of one of the richest men in America who had inherited his father's fortune made on oil."

"Correctimundo!" Adam grinned.

"So we have a location," Lindsay murmured, slightly in shock that what they had been waiting for, for almost a month, had finally happened.

"I'll call Danny and get him back from the precinct," Jo said and hurriedly picked up the phone and dialled the absent Messer.

"I can't believe it," Lindsay said, smiling at Adam. "You did it!"

"We all did it," Adam replied, shrugging. "It was nothing."

"Damn it!" Jo growled as she hung up her phone.

"What?" Lindsay asked.

"That husband of yours, that's what. He's gone up to the Thorn Everidge Institution with Benny and Grace. He said he'd carry on to the coordinates of this old hotel up in Hamilton County," Jo muttered.

"Then we better get a move on and catch them up," Lindsay said as she hurried from the room. "We can call Hawkes and Sid on the way and tell them to meet us there."

"Good idea, we may well need a doctor's help on this one," Jo replied as all three of them hurried away.

Mac waited on his bed patiently for the sound of the ward doors to close. It was evening now and Brody had just returned from seeing the nurse, grinning like a Cheshire Cat. He'd more than likely be bit woozy and out of it but as long as he had got the keys that was all that mattered. Mac jumped when he heard the sound of the doors buzzing closed and then all was silent. They had about half an hour before the nurses came back round to lock them in for the night. During that time they'd be busy with the other wards shutting them down and hopefully wouldn't be watching their one. Mac silently crept from his room and inched down the corridor towards Flack's room. All the other patients were in their rooms now. Most were exhausted from what had happened that day with the fight and the others were upset by Blake's disappearance. They all knew what that meant.

"Don?" Mac murmured as he came into the room and sat down at the edge of Flack's bed, gently waking the sleeping man.

"Mac?" Flack murmured and then coughed. His eyes blinked open and they were unfocused. Mac felt more than worried for his young friend.

"It's okay, Don. You missed dinner, they left you some water," Mac murmured as he helped Flack to sit up. Then he took the polystyrene cup and held it to Flack's lips as the young man drank deeply from it.

"I don't feel so good..." Flack murmured and closed his eyes again as Mac put down the cup and laid Flack back down.

He couldn't help but notice the way Flack's skin had turned a nasty bruised colour and that dark patches were forming on it, God knows what from. The spittle that still ran down his chin had turned red from where he must have been coughing in his sleep. He didn't look good and Mac knew he had to get Flack out of there immediately.

"What did Emerson do to you, Don?" he asked carefully.

"I don't know. Think he injected something into my arm. I kinda lost consciousness after that," Flack muttered and then coughed again. Blood bubbled up from his mouth and dribbled down his chin.

Mac swallowed and then wiped the blood away using the corner of the sheet. He stared worriedly down at Flack's arm. There was indeed a huge puncture mark where a needle could have been inserted.

"You'll be okay," Mac murmured. "Brody's returned from the nurse. It's time to go now," Mac stated as he put an arm under Flack's back and attempted to sit him up. He was shocked by how easy it was and how light Flack felt.

"Time..." Flack muttered as he let himself be dragged up, not really having the energy to help.

"That's right. We're leaving now," Mac nodded as he hauled Flack to his feet and then began to move to the shower room.

"I can't feel my legs very well, Mac," Flack murmured as they went.

"That's okay," Mac said, trying to keep his voice steady. "I can walk for the both of us."

Flack didn't reply as his head lolled to one side and Mac took his entire weight. Once again he was hit by how much weight Flack must have lost in order for him to feel so light.

"Did they bring Blake back?" Flack coughed again, showering his and Mac's dirty white scrubs with flecks of red.

"No...no they didn't," Mac murmured sadly.

"That bas...bastard!" Flack tried to say angrily.

"We'll get him, Don. Just you wait. We'll be out of here in a few minutes and then come back with the cavalry. Emerson will not escape justice for much longer," Mac stated vehemently.

"But Blake..." Flack choked.

"There's nothing we can do for him now," Mac said, sorrow noticeable in his voice.

"Nothing..." Flack murmured as they reached the end of the corridor.

"Nearly there, my friend," Mac said encouragingly as they entered the shower room.

So far, so good. The alarm hadn't sounded yet and there was no camera in the shower room due to steam and condensation.

"Mac?" squeaked a quiet voice from the shadows and then Brody appeared, a ring of keys in his hands.

"Excellent," Mac nodded as he gently lowered Flack to the floor and then took the keys.

"What happened to him?" Brody asked quietly as he went over to Flack and knelt beside him.

"I don't know," Mac muttered as he started looking for the right key. His CSI eyes knew exactly what type he should be looking for to match the window grate.

Brody bent down next to Flack and gently took his head in his hands. Flack didn't open his eyes.

"I'm sorry," Brody whispered, a tear sliding down his face. "It should have been me."

"Not you," Flack snorted though his eyes remained closed. "Jus' a kid..."

"Got it," Mac stated as he swung open the grating and then opened the window.

The smell of fresh air blew in around the shower room at once making the three of them more hopeful. It was like the smell of freedom.

"You go first, Brody," Mac directed. "Climb through and then I'll pass Don to you and come through behind."

"Sure," Brody nodded as he went over and began to climb through. It was easy for him as he was extremely small and slight.

Suddenly a screeching sounded throughout the room and Mac stared up at the doorway. The alarm had been sounded.

"They're coming!" he shouted in horror as he ran back towards Flack and tried to lift him.

"No..." Flack mumbled incoherently as he felt Mac trying to move him.

"Come on, Don, we're getting out of here," Mac shouted.

"I can't," Flack choked as his eyes opened.

Mac opened his mouth to reply but before he could Flack's eyes rolled back into his head and his body started violently convulsing.

"Don!" Mac shouted, panic stricken for his friend.

"What's going on?" Brody shouted through the window.

"We're coming," Mac replied whilst he tried to hold down Flack's flailing arms and legs to stop him from hurting himself. "Please don't do this, Don. Not now, we're so close."

"You stupid bastard..."

Mac looked up to see Thomas standing in the doorway, easily recognisable due to the scar that now ran across his face.

"No!" Mac shouted in horror, cradling Flack protectively away from the huge man.

Suddenly Thomas fell forward and Winston appeared in the doorway growling deep in his throat at Thomas.

"Go!" he snarled at Mac. "Save him."

Mac almost paused for a moment to marvel at Winston's use of speech but then he was up and grabbing at Flack again to pull him up.

"No..."Flack whispered again and his eyes fluttered open. Using all the strength he had he grabbed hold of Mac's arm and held it steady.

"No?" Mac repeated, his heart in his throat as he stared into Don's eyes, the sound of Winston and Thomas fighting in the background.

"I can't move, Mac," Flack coughed. "I can barely feel my body."

"I'll take you," Mac said sternly and tried once more to lift Flack.

"No," Flack said again and tried unsuccessfully to push Mac away from him. "I'll only slow you down. Go. Get help. Come back for me..."

"I won't leave you here, Don," Mac said with as much vehemence as he could muster through his tears that had started to fall.

"Yes you will," Flack choked and slowly moved his hand to touch Mac's. "You will, Mac. Because I'm telling you to."

Mac couldn't reply. He would never leave Flack in this wretched place but knew in his heart of hearts that Flack wouldn't make it out there in the wild. He was too weak to walk now and probably wouldn't survive the journey away from the asylum. Mac held the younger man in his arms as Flack coughed again and blood dribbled from his mouth. Flack no longer had the energy to wipe it away.

"I'm not gonna make it with you, Mac," Flack said gravely.

"I can't, Don," Mac cried, holding Flack close. "I can't leave you here."

"You'll come back for me," Flack said his eyes staring solemnly up at Mac. "I trust you. You know that."

"I can't..." Mac murmured.

"Mac."

Flack's voice was pained and pleading.

"Please."

Mac closed his eyes. He didn't want to give in, but the sound of Flack's voice, so broken... so pleading... He opened his eyes and glanced up at Winston being slowly overpowered by Thomas, at the screaming and footsteps he could hear in the corridor over the alarm and then at Brody's scared face through the window. He had approximately ten seconds to make a decision.

A/N - So what will Mac decide? And with everyone on their way, and trouble already brewing at the Asylum, next one will be the big climax!