Dallas, Texas
July 1979
"May I?" Jock's hand brushed over her back before he pulled it away, waiting for her response.
"Whatever you're thinking, it's not going to help." Sue Ellen hesitated. The weight she carried wasn't something she could just put down, and it wasn't something Jock could ever truly understand. Accepting his offer felt like opening a door she didn't want to step through.
"Let me try."
"Jock…"
"I have three sons. This isn't new." His tone was confident, insistent, wearing her down in the way only Jock could.
"All right," she relented.
"Kneel down, elbows on the seat of the chair," he instructed. "Lean into the chair, let it take the pressure."
He set a cushion on the floor in front of the armchair. She followed his directions, unsure but compliant.
"Hopefully, I still remember how to do this." Jock knelt behind her, his hands moving down her back. At first, the touch was light, but he gradually increased the pressure.
"How's that?" he asked.
"Fine." Her response was curt, uncertain.
His technique changed, his hands balling into fists as he pressed into her lower back. The sensation surprised her, unexpected relief and something else she couldn't quite place.
"How's this?"
A soft groan escaped her lips before she could stop it, a mix of embarrassment and unexpected comfort. "Pleasant."
Jock's voice brimmed with pride. "I knew my boy would listen if I asked him to."
His hands slid to her waist, settling on the source of her discomfort. She stiffened, but he didn't stop. "Why don't we go back to bed now?" His suggestion lingered in the air, its meaning unclear.
Sue Ellen turned to look at him, ready to question the strange suggestion. But before she could move, the world shifted. They were no longer in the study. Somehow, impossibly, she found herself in bed, his arms wrapped around her. They lay spooned together like lovers, a closeness that didn't make sense.
How did they get from the study to the bedroom?
Her confusion deepened as she tried to speak, but no sound came. Jock's lips brushed her shoulder. "Goodnight," he whispered, his voice unsettlingly intimate. She tried to wriggle free, her body refusing to obey.
A sharp gasp escaped her as she woke with a start, bolting upright in bed. Her heart pounded, her breaths ragged. Frantically, she reached for the bedside lamp, the soft glow anchoring her back to reality. The familiar walls of Brooktree came into view, and she exhaled a shaky breath of relief. She was safe. It wasn't real.
Getting out of bed, she turned on the light and wandered into the bathroom. Splashing cold water on her face, she stared into the mirror, grounding herself. She wasn't at Southfork. Jock wasn't there. And she wasn't expecting.
Once again, a dream turned nightmare had twisted her memories into something monstrous. Once again, she was reminded of how long Jock's disregard for her personal boundaries had haunted her life.
'Patient reports difficulty sleeping, suspected post-traumatic nightmares. Patient declined prescription to assist sleep, expressing fear of not waking up, both permanently and if disturbed. Patient appears at very low risk for deliberate harm. Evening monitoring reduced on trial basis to aid consistent rest.
Patient is slowly working through recounting past experiences. Patient is working on accepting that she cannot change what happened and that she's not responsible for the actions of others, only herself.
Patient is open to visits from three named individuals: husband, son, and sister-in-law. Patient shows no interest in discharge and is unable to provide an answer about future plans.
Assessment: medium-high risk if discharged to family home; medium-low risk if discharged to private address with security measures (uncertain about feasibility of ensuring this); low risk of self-harm while inpatient. Follow-up with psychologist recommended.'
Reading over the report, Jock felt conflicted. It seemed they were still trying to paint him as the antagonist in Sue Ellen's life, a portrayal he resented but could tolerate, at least for now. Other people's opinions on the past didn't matter much in the grand scheme of things, especially with new developments on the horizon. And this development? He was sure it would change everything. No one could stay mad at him once they saw how happy Sue Ellen would be with the news: little John was about to become a big brother.
But for now, there was nothing in her medical records to confirm it.
Upon her admission, they'd taken her contraceptive medication off her prescription list, that suggested they knew something he didn't. Maybe even something Sue Ellen didn't know yet. He wouldn't blame them for keeping the information from her. After all, her emotional state seemed fragile, and her history suggested she could act impulsively when distressed, making choices she might later regret.
From what he understood, a woman could choose to end a pregnancy in the early stages without much trouble. In the second trimester, she could convince a doctor it was harmful to her health, but by the third trimester, she'd be out of options. Surely, the doctors were just waiting for the right moment to tell her. That had to be it. And when they did, Sue Ellen would be overjoyed. She'd snap out of her miserable mood, pack up, and return to Southfork. She'd come home to him, grateful, blooming, and ready for the future.