Title: Holiday From Hell
Authors: Jana Tropper and Sam Singing Wolf
E-mail: Sam: SngngWolf@aol.com
E-mail: Jana: Moo11225@aol.com
Rated: PG-13
Summary: AU/action Steve and Jesse go camping with Steve's
adopted daughter and her friends. A murder interrupts the good
time. (Of course.) This takes place in Jana's Amy universe. You
get to guess who wrote which parts. ;-)
Warnings: Some violence, blood, and mild language.
Disclaimer: We don't own them, CBS and Viacom do. We just like to
take them out in the woods and play with them. We'll return them
in more or less good order. Okay, maybe less than more.
Feedback: Are you kidding? Uh, yeah. ;-) Lots, please.
"You got any more matches?"
Steve looked up from the pile of nylon tent around his feet.
"Haven't you gotten that fire started yet?" He shook
his head. "Weren't you a Boy Scout or something?"
Jesse glared at his friend. "Why does everyone always think
I was a Boy Scout?"
"Must be the hair."
He stared at him for a minute. "I don't get that." He
paused. "Matches?"
Steve snickered. "You set up the tent. I'll start the
fire."
***
"We're lost."
Doug Smith glared at Amy Sloan, his best friend. "We are
not! I'm telling you, the camp is back this way." He pulled
on her arm, but she wrenched it free and stepped backwards into
Ben Marshall. With the help of a tree, she regained her balance.
"Doug, we're lost. Stop being so stubborn and let's just get
out of here!" Amy shouted back at him, anger rising.
"Doug's right. Camp isn't that far. We've only been walking
for about half an hour. It should be dark soon, so let's just get
going," Ben said calmly, brushing past her. Amy stomped her
feet like an angry child and crossed her arms.
"You guys are both too macho to admit we're lost. We. Are.
Lost!" She shook her head and refused to follow. She knew
she was acting immature, but so were they.
"Look, Amy, I can hear voices. Jesse and Steve are probably
starting the fire already. I don't know about you guys, but I'm
starving." As the three teens paused to listen, the sounds
of speaking and some sort of metallic noise could be heard not
far off.
Amy reluctantly followed them until they came to a clump of trees
surrounding a clearing. They poked their heads through and were
startled to see that it was a trio of husky men instead of who
they expected it to be. The men seemed to be digging some sort of
hole and there was a heap of clothing off to one side. One of
them stopped digging and nodded to the others, who stopped as
well. Turning in unison, they all headed for the heap of clothes
and bent to lift it. Once it was in the air, Amy noticed that it
was not a heap of clothes, rather it was a person. She muffled a
cry with her hand as the men dropped the "heap" into
the hole.
"Who's there?" one of them demanded, looking up.
The teens remained motionless as their eyes scanned the tree
line. One of the men took a step forward and Amy, Ben and Doug
wasted no time in turning to run in the opposite direction. Amy
felt branches and leaves whip against her face as she lost sight
of the boys, who were much faster runners. Before she could call
out to them, she felt her foot catch under an upraised root and
when her head struck a nearby rock, she blacked out.
***
"Shouldn't they be back by now?"
Steve tore his gaze away from the woods beyond the campsite and
looked at Jesse. "Yeah, they should." He stood
abruptly. "You wait here, I'm going to go look for
them."
Jesse stood also. "No way. Last time I stayed behind on a
camping trip--" He broke off as a shadow crossed his
friend's face. "I'm going with you."
Steve just nodded as he doused the fire with sand.
***
Doug struggled against the ropes that tied his wrists and ankles
together. He sat in an awkward position, facing away from Ben. A
low cough emitted from his throat, but his gag muffled it. He
hadn't gotten far before one of the mysterious men had grabbed
him. He'd been tied up and thrown into a room inside a seemingly
abandoned cabin. Soon, Ben joined him and was bound and gagged
alongside him. Inside his mind, he repeated the same sentence
over and over: "Please, Amy, get away."
Before he could get himself released, the door to the cabin
opened and footsteps sounded. Soon, the door to the small room
opened and one of the men came in, an unconscious Amy slung over
his shoulder. He tossed her, face down, to the floor with a sneer
and slammed the door behind him. Almost simultaneously, Ben's had
been able to free himself from his bonds. He shook off the frayed
ropes as Doug felt his own give a little. Ben quickly untied his
own feet and rushed to Amy's side, the makeshift handkerchief/gag
hanging around his neck.
"Amy, Amy, can you hear me?" Ben asked desperately,
rolling her onto her back. His eyes widened at the sight of a
large gash near her left temple and bruising around her right
eye. Her hair, although tangled, stayed away from her lightly
scraped face. Her head rolled limply to the side and Ben shot a
frantic glance to Doug. The handkerchief that used to be covering
Ben's mouth and nose fell to the floor and he dabbed at Amy's cut
with it. Doug could have sworn he saw a slight wince from his
unconscious friend, but he couldn't be positive. Finally, the
ropes around his wrists fell to the ground and he joined Ben at
Amy's side.
"Is she breathing?" Doug asked. Ben lowered his ear to
Amy's bloodied lips and nodded as he felt warm puffs of air
against the side of his face. "Good." Doug looked at
Ben for a moment, then asked, "Do you have a T-shirt on
under your sweatshirt?"
"Yes . . . " Ben answered slowly.
"Take off your sweatshirt and put it under her head."
Ben did as told as they heard voices in the other room talking
about them.
"What do we do with these kids? They saw us buryin'
O'Connor's body. The boss already left . . . "
"You moron, we can't commit murder! Sure, we can bury a body
that someone ELSE killed, but we can't do it ourselves. We can go
to jail!"
"And we can also go to jail if the kids squeal! Look, the
girl's hurt very bad . . . Say, what did you do to her
anyway?"
"Me? I didn't do nothin'. The girl tripped on a stick or
something and knocked herself out. Lucky for me, huh?" There
was a short laugh. "But not for her."
***
"I shouldn't have let her wander off."
"She didn't exactly wander, Steve. She's with her
friends."
"Yeah. 'Boy' friends."
"C'mon. They aren't boyfriends," Jesse said.
"They're just kids."
"I know." Steve sighed. "How could they have
gotten lost?"
"They're *kids*." Jesse emphasized. "Besides, one
tree looks pretty much like another. *I'd* get lost out
here."
Steve snorted.
"Not lost lost, of course. That wouldn't be very manly of
me."
Steve's flashlight cut through the darkness. "Amy!" He
shouted.
Jesse jumped. He realized his attempts to distract his friend
from his worry weren't working.
"I'm sure she's fine, Steve."
He didn't even glance at him "Amy!"
***
Amy's eyes flitted open and the first thing that she was aware of
was the fact that her head pounded with pain. Painstakingly, she
rolled her head to the side to see two blurry shapes, seemingly
Ben and Doug, within inches of each other, fists raised. She let
out a small groan, her head and right ankle hurting as well as
impatience for whatever her friends' trivial argument was about.
"Please, you guys, don't fight," she begged quietly.
She smiled weakly as the boys dropped their fists and turned to
her. "Who'll take care of me if you kill each other?"
she joked, trying to lighten the situation. The two of them
rushed to her side.
"Are you feeling okay?" Doug asked, brushing her hair
out of her eyes. Ben knelt at her other side, looking just as
concerned.
"My head hurts . . . and my foot . . . But other than that,
I'm okay." She attempted to sit up, but Ben pushed her back
down gently.
"Don't move unless you have to," Ben said firmly. Amy
narrowed her eyebrows and looked at him critically.
"You have less clothes than before," she said slowly,
noticing the absence of his sweatshirt and his wearing merely a
white T-shirt. It wasn't as if she was complaining about the
sight; it was more of curiosity's sake. Ben smiled slightly back
at her.
"Yeah, my sweatshirt is under your head." Amy looked
out of the corner of her eye and saw the navy blue sleeve balled
up. She shifted slightly to one side and pain lanced up her ankle
and to her shin. Trying to hide her pain, she winced and turned
her head away from him.
"Amy, it's all right," Doug assured her in a whisper.
With a half-smile, he added, "We know you're not invincible.
Don't pretend to be."
"Damn, my secret's out," she murmured, closing her
eyes. Somehow, sleep was a much better alternative to pain and
she slowly drifted away.
***
"Great. Just great." Steve turned up the collar of his
coat against the rain that poured over them. He glanced at his
friend who looked miserable with his hair plastered against his
head.
"Can it possibly get any worse?" Jesse complained.
"Don't ask."
"Yeah. No kidding. With our luck it'd probably-" He
broke off with a shout of alarm as his feet went out from under
him.
"Jesse!" Steve's arm shot out, in a vain attempt to
catch his friend as he too, slipped in the deepening mud.
The young doctor found himself on his hands and knees, his arms
sinking rapidly. "Steve!"
Steve struggled to his feet and grabbed Jesse by the back of his
coat, hauling him to his feet. Rain coursed over Jesse's pale
face as he played his flashlight over him, looking for injuries.
"You all right?" Steve asked. Then he saw his
expression. "What's wrong?" He was nearly shouting now
as the rain increased its tempo.
"I felt . . . something. In the mud."
"What?"
Jesse was shaking now, and not from the cold. "It felt like
a face."
Steve's eyes widened. "Are you sure?"
The younger man just stared up at him, his eyes wide.
Thrusting the flashlight into the other man's hands, Steve
collapsed to his knees, digging in the muck with his bare hands.
Dead leaves, mud and other debris from the forest floor came up
quickly.
"Someone's been digging here," Steve shouted. "The
ground's been loosened."
Jesse just stood there numbly. He didn't figure that was good
news.
Steve continued digging for several long minutes. Only the rain
seeping through their clothes and the harshness of Steve's
breathing counted time. His face was set in grim lines as though
he were steeled for the worst. Finally, he stopped.
"Jesse." His voice was barely audible over the roar of
wind and rain.
Travis didn't need to ask. He shined the light into the shallow
hole already rapidly filling with water.
A man's face stared back at them.
***
It was midnight when Ben awoke from a light sleep to the sounds
of muttered cursing. He opened his eyes and it took him several
minutes to get his eyes adjusted to the darkness. Once he was
able to see again, he saw that Amy was hobbling across the floor,
attempting to walk on her bad foot.
"You're just going to hurt yourself worse," he said
softly, standing. Amy, taken by surprise, gasped and stepped
backwards hard onto her twisted ankle. She covered her mouth with
her hand before she was able to cry out and Ben raced to her side
just in time to catch her from falling. Unfortunately, it knocked
him backward against the opposite wall and, keeping one arm
around a now limp Amy and one against the wall, he slid the two
of them to the cold floor.
"Are you all right?" he asked quietly, brushing her
hair out of her eyes. She looked away shyly, embarrassed both by
being caught and of Ben holding her so protectively. She nodded
reluctantly. "What are you doing up at this hour?"
"Trying to walk on my foot," she answered weakly, her
slight smile matching her tone. "Wasn't such a great idea,
huh?"
"Guess not, Sloan," he teased quietly. It was then he
noticed that she was gripping his hand and her fingers were
turning white. When he saw the suppressed pain in her face, he
knew that she wasn't doing well. Slowly, her green eyes closed
and her breathing evened, the pain leaving her face.
He brushed the hair out of Amy's face again, whispering her name
in an attempt to awaken her, but to no avail. Ben was hit with
the hard realization that Amy had passed out from the pain and
her foot, and probably her head, was worse than he and Doug had
thought it was. With the lack of knowing anything that would help
her, he closed his eyes and settled in for the long, cold night.
***
"He hasn't been dead that long, Steve. Maybe six, eight
hours."
Steve nodded. "His clothes were dry. He was buried before
the rain started."
"You think the kids saw-"
"I hope not."
Steve barely spared a glance for the dead man still lying half
buried at their feet. "Come on. We'll search the area in
widening circles. Call out if you find anything."
"We're splitting up? Do you think that's such a good
idea?"
"We have to do something, Jess. We're not doing Amy any good
stumbling around in the dark!"
"I know. But maybe we should go for help-"
"You go. I'm going to find her."
Jesse heard the barely concealed desperation in his friend's
voice. "No," He shook his head. "I'm
staying." He put his hand on Steve's arm. "We'll find
them, Steve."
He only nodded, not meeting the other man's eyes. In silence,
they separated, heading off through the forest, each harboring
their own thoughts, and fears.
***
The light sound of rain pattering against the roof awakened Amy
from her pain-induced unconsciousness. She yawned as she opened
her eyes and stretched her arms out. She reached to pull the
covers over her head and pulled on the bottom of a shirt. Her
vision focused and she realized she wasn't in her room. Whereever
she was, it was very dark. She waited a moment so her eyes could
adjust to the darkness. Confused, she looked down to see that she
had pulled half of Ben's shirt off. Laughing quietly, she fixed
the shirt and pulled his arms out from around her.
Struggling to her feet, her body quickly reminded her of her
ankle and how it had twisted in the wrong direction. Amy rested
all her weight on her good foot and used the wall to help her
stand. There. That was better. Tentatively, she stepped forward
on her bad foot, testing to see how much weight she could trust
on it. She found she could stand nearly evenly without much pain.
"You never learn, do you?" Amy turned, carefully and
looked down at Ben, who was smiling. She could see the smile
through the darkness. "You're standing."
"Observant," she quipped, looking down at her feet.
"I can kind of stand as long as I keep most of my weight off
of it." Amy sighed and leaned back against the wall. Ben
watched as she slowly slid down and sat next to him.
"How long do you think we've been in here?" Ben asked,
turning to look at her.
"A couple hours maybe," a voice came form across the
room. For a moment, Ben and Amy froze, expecting the worst and
then relaxed as Doug crawled out of the shadows and to Amy's
other side. "Hey, you didn't think I'd let you party without
me?"
The three teens sat in an uncomfortable silence, listening to the
sound of rain against the roof. Amy sat straighter suddenly,
apparently hearing something.
"What...?" Doug began. Amy waved her hand for him to be
quiet and all three listened. Sure enough, a harsh whisper could
be heard from somewhere above their heads.
"Amy!"
***
Steve peered through the tiny window at the basement of the
cabin. He was sure he'd heard Amy's voice.
"Amy!" He called again, quietly, so as not to be heard
in the main rooms of the cabin. The rain was still falling in
sheets, but the cellar window was open just enough that he hoped
he could be heard.
"Steve?" Amy's tentative voice reached him.
He breathed a prayer of thanks that she was still alive.
"Are you all right?" he asked.
"I'm okay," she answered quietly. "Doug and Ben
are with me. We're locked in."
"How many bad guys?"
"Three."
"Armed?"
"Um... I don't know. Sorry."
Steve grimaced. "It's okay, Amy." He blew out a breath.
"Okay. You kids stay put. I'm going to get you out of
there."
"Steve?" Amy sounded scared and much younger than her
14 years.
"Yeah?"
There was a long pause. "Nothin'." He knew she was
trying to sound tough. "We'll be here."
Steve swallowed the lump in his throat. "Yeah."
He got up and walked around the cabin. He looked in the windows,
straining to see through the dirty glass.
Two men sat at a table, arguing from the sounds of it. He looked
for the third man, who was no where in sight.
Rain trickled down the back of his shirt as he opened the window
slightly.
"-say we kill 'em."
Steve's eyes narrowed. There was no time to wait for the third
man to show up. The argument continued as he made his way around
the side of the building, to the front door. He swung it open,
gun drawn and quickly aimed.
"Freeze, LAPD!"
One man was walking across the floor, his hand reaching for
pistol lying on another table. He froze at Steve's shout.
"On the floor, now!" Steve strode into the room with a
confidence he didn't feel. Where was the third man? He pushed the
door shut with the heel of his boot.
"Hands behind your backs," he commanded. When both men
were prone on the floor, he tied their hands with torn rags.
He gave them one more glance to make certain they were secure,
then headed for the basement.
The air in the basement was, if possible, even more damp and
cold. "Amy?" He called out. He shined his light down
the stairs. Three young faces looked back up at him.
"Oh, thank God, " he whispered. He took the stairs two
at a time, until he could wrap his arms around Amy. After a
moment, he pulled back and looked at the two boys.
"Everybody all right?" he asked.
"Amy's hurt," Ben said.
Amy glared at him then looked back at Steve. "I just twisted
my ankle. It's not that bad."
He gave her a concerned look. "Can you walk okay?" he
asked. "We've got to get moving. There were only two of them
upstairs."
She nodded.
Steve saw that Amy was wearing Ben's sweatshirt, and the boy was
now clad in only a thin white T-shirt. He shook his head. The kid
was going to freeze to death. He pulled off his coat and handed
it to him, ignoring his protests.
"Put it on. We've got to get moving," he said in his
most commanding voice. He was pleased to note the young man
obeyed without another word. When everyone was ready, they headed
up the stairs.
They crossed the room, the kids giving the tied men a wide berth.
They slipped out the door.
"Go!" Steve shouted. They began running, the boys
quickly outrunning Amy. Steve lagged behind, keeping an eye on
her.
"Steve!" Jesse shouted from the edge of the woods.
"Over here!"
Steve saw Ben and Doug angle toward the doctor. A shot rang out
behind them. The boys reached Jesse. "Go!" Steve
shouted. "We'll catch up back at camp!"
They ran faster, though Steve steps were still slowed
considerably to match Amy's pace. He took her arm and pulled her
in another direction, hoping that if they split up, they would
have a better chance of getting away. They entered the tree line
without slowing.
More shots rang out. Amy exclaimed wordlessly and increased her
pace. Steve stumbled as pain lanced his side. He kept running,
knowing distance between them and the shooter was their only
chance.
It felt as though hours had passed, though it was only perhaps
twenty minutes, when they finally stopped. Sounds of pursuit had
long since ceased. Steve staggered to lean against a tree. Amy
was breathing hard, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps.
He pressed his hand to his side. He could feel the blood still
seeping from the wound at an alarming rate. Running had only
increased the flow.
Even in the darkness, Amy seemed to sense that something was
wrong. "Steve? Are you hurt?"
"Just tired, Am," he said wearily. He didn't want to
add to her worry. But now that they'd stopped, the world was
beginning to spin alarmingly. "Let's just rest a minute,
then we'll get moving again."
"Okay," she said. She wanted to believe that everything
would be all right, he realized. He swore to himself that he
wouldn't let her down.
As he stood there, listening to Amy catch her breath, he realized
how quiet the forest had become. The rain had stopped. He looked
up, half wishing for the full moon to break through the clouds to
light their way, and half glad the cloud cover helped conceal
them. And the wet ground muffled the sound-
Just as the thought crossed his mind, he heard something behind
them. He slipped behind the pine tree he'd been leaning on and
waited. Amy didn't say a word, trusting him completely.
A moment later a figure of a man moved up to the tree, just
within arm's reach. Steve grabbed him by the back of the neck and
slammed him headfirst into the trunk. He fell without another
sound.
But he hadn't been alone. Steve didn't even see the blow coming
until he felt the hard contact of a fist against his cheekbone.
He fell against the tree, his left arm instinctively wrapping
around his abdomen, protecting the injured area. He lashed out
with his right, as surprised as the other man when he connected.
The moon chose that moment to show his face through the clouds
and Steve saw the glint of metal in the man's hand. He lunged for
it, and they fell to the ground, struggling for possession of the
weapon.
When the shot rang out, Steve froze. Then he felt the rush of
heat as blood and air escaped from the man's chest against his
own. He rolled away quickly and used the tree to push himself to
his feet.
Amy ran to him. "I didn't know what to do," she said.
"Are you alright?"
"You did the right thing staying back, Am," he said.
"And I'm okay." He gave her arm a brief squeeze, then
tucked the gun into his belt. "Let's get going," he
said, pushing away from the tree. He'd only taken a couple of
steps when the ground seemed to open at his feet and he felt
himself falling. The ground pressed wet and soft against his
cheek. *Lost more blood than I realized,* he thought vaguely. He
heard Amy call his name, and then nothing.
***
"Watch out!" Jesse warned as he and the two boys
barreled through the dense forest and into the campsite. Just
before running into the green four-season tent, they were able to
stop. "Ben... Doug? You guys okay?" The three collapsed
to the ground, breathing heavily.
"Jess... they were right behind us... and the gun..."
Ben gasped, turning onto his back and sucking in as much oxygen
as his lungs could accept. They laid in tense silence for over
five minutes, praying for Steve and Amy to come through the
trees. Only silence filled the early morning air.
***
"Steve, wake up. Come on, Steve. Wake up!" Amy's shrill
voice seemed to be the only sound in the forest. Carefully, she
rolled him over onto his back.
"Ohmigod," she whispered. The wound was bleeding
heavily, Steve's face an ashen gray. She tugged off Ben's
sweatshirt and pressed it against Steve's side.
"Steve, please," she pleaded in a murmur, staring
intently at his still face. Her head had started to ache again
and her foot was burning, but she pushed them aside. Steve was
all that mattered. "This isn't fair. You're not going to die
out here," she whispered harshly. "Come on, Steve, I
need you."
***
Pain. The world had dissolved into a pain filled haze. Steve
struggled to open his eyes. He could hear Amy calling to him. Amy
needed him. He had to help her.
He concentrated on her voice. It gave him something to focus on,
to keep from drifting back into the darkness. Her voice, so dear
to him, held fear and… panic. She was terrified. He fought
harder to reach through the haze to her.
"Steve? Are you awake?"
He groaned and slowly rolled to his side, coughing.
Unfortunately. He felt like his lungs were trying to force their
way out with each cough, but he couldn't stop.
"Steve…" Amy's words came out in a trembling
whisper.
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and in the moonlight
that had finally broken through the clouds, saw what she did.
Blood. He was coughing up blood.
Not good.
"It's okay, Amy," he lied. I just bit my tongue when I
fell."
She looked relieved. He could tell she wasn't sure whether to
believe him or not, but she wanted to. Good enough.
"Can you walk? We should get you to Jesse."
He nodded. She put her arm around his waist as he stood, more for
moral support than actual, physical support. She was so small
compared to him he noticed, not for the first time. So fragile.
He was going to lock her in her room for the rest of his life, he
decided.
Presuming he got home with her to do that. He shook his head,
trying to rid himself of the morbid thoughts that came naturally
to any seasoned homicide detective. He was certainly glad Amy
couldn't read his mind. She'd be horrified at the other things he
was thinking. He doubted she'd appreciate the gallows humor.
"Just hang on, Steve," she said.
"No problem," he said a bit breathlessly. He wondered
idly if his lung was going to collapse. "Where's your
shirt?" He asked in a chiding tone.
He could have sworn she rolled her eyes.
***
"Don't move! We're armed!"
"Nice try, Jess," Steve said. Or tried to say. It came
out more as a wet, coughing sound. He was leaning heavily on Amy
by this point, and she was staggering under his weight.
"Jesse!" She called out. "Steve's been shot!"
Jesse ran forward and wrapped his left arm around Steve. Doug
took Amy's place at his other side as Ben moved to help her.
"Are you alright?" He asked quietly.
She nodded. "I'm fine." She gave him a grateful smile
as he put his arms around her.
"Let's get him down on the ground," Jesse said to Doug.
I need to take a look at the wound."
Steve tried to protest, but no sound came out. They laid him
gently on the wet ground and Jesse turned on his flashlight,
shining it across his body.
"Turn it off," Steve choked out.
"Staying hidden isn't going to do you any good if you're
dead, Steve," Jesse said. He leaned down and placed his ear
against his friend's chest. When he looked back up, his face was
grim.
Amy ran over to him. Doug and Ben stepped back, giving them room.
"Jesse?"
The young doctor didn't even look up at her. His focus was
completely on his patient. His best friend. He pulled Steve's
shirt open and looked closer at the wound. The gun Steve had
tucked in his belt fell to the ground at Amy's knee.
She couldn't watch. Her gaze lifted to the movement behind Jesse,
wanting to see some measure of hope on her friends' faces.
Instead, she saw the third man from the cabin, a pistol raised
and pointing at the back of Jesse's head.
***
"Jesse," Amy tried to say, but it came out as more of a
choking noise. He looked up at her for a moment, trying to see
what was wrong.
"What is it? Were you hurt?" Jesse asked, his critical
doctor's eye making a superficial examination. The low click of
metal sounded behind his head as the gunman thumbed off the
safety.
"She will be," the man said from behind Jesse. "On
your feet." He motioned to Jesse with his pistol. In the dim
light of the flashlight, Amy could just make out his expression.
To her shock, he looked as terrified as she.
Amy felt something soft and warm near her knee and took her eyes
off the man for a moment to see Steve's hand. She slid her own
into his and squeezed tightly. She looked down in surprise as
Steve's hand slipped out of hers. She looked down and saw he was
sliding his fingers towards his gun, which lay at her knee.
Her gaze slid back to his face. His eyes were dilated and glazed
with pain. He was barely hanging onto consciousness. She knew
he'd never be able to pick up the gun, take aim and fire before
the man shot him. She'd loose him, if she hadn't already…
The gunman coughed, turning his head slightly to cover his mouth
with his hand. The decision made in that moment, Amy snatched the
gun off the ground and pointed it straight at him. Her ears rang
with the report of the shot.
***
Amy lie motionless on her hospital bed, eyes trained on the small
sliver of light that came through her open door. She had been
brought in with Steve around ten o'clock the morning before. She
hadn't slept since. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the
man's body falling to the ground. She felt the heavy gun in her
hands and the loud sound of a gunshot. She felt the dull pain in
her arms at the gun's recoil.
"Amy?" a whisper came from the doorway. The young girl
looked up to see Jesse in the doorway, doctor's jacket looking as
if it had been on the floor for days. "Amy, why aren't you
asleep?"
"I can't stop thinking about the man I-I shot," she
whispered. "I keep seeing him fall to the ground..."
Jesse's eyes filled with sympathy as he sat at her side.
"It was a choice you had to make. He's going to recover and
go to prison, but you saved our lives out there." Amy's
expression didn't change. He brushed her hair behind her ear
absently, as he had seen Steve do thousands of times. "Look,
Am, you did what you had to do."
"But how does that make me better than anyone else who...
who shot someone? How does that make me better than those men
that Uncle Joe hired or... or..." Seeing she was getting
upset, Jesse held one of her arms down and shushed her.
"Sshh... Calm down, Amy. You'll be asleep soon." Jesse
pulled out the syringe with the sedative he had brought. Amy's
eyes widened and she sluggishly tried to pull away, but Jesse
injected the substance into her IV before she could move. Amy
felt the doctor watching her as her eyes slowly closed.
"You... traitor," she whispered.
He tenderly brushed her hair off her forehead. "Get some
sleep, kiddo."
***
Mark tugged off his glasses with a tired sigh. When they had been
brought in, he had felt torn between going to his son and his
granddaughter. He had sat with Amy though, while Steve was in
surgery throughout much of the day. He held her while she cried.
And when she slept, he no longer tried to hold back his own
tears. It hadn't looked good for Steve.
Now he sat beside his son, who looked pale and weak, the
respirator tubing taped to the edge of his mouth and heart
monitors beeping. They had re-inflated his lung and drained the
blood, but they wouldn't know for certain if he would make it
until he was breathing on his own.
He reached out and touched Steve's cheek gently. "Steve,
don't make me go through this again. You have to wake up."
He sighed. It made his heart break to look at him. Steve was so
strong, so alive. Seeing him like this… he looked almost
fragile. Mark ran a hand over his face. He knew from experience
that the nearness of death made a person look that way. The soul
seemed so far from the body.
He shook his head. He couldn't start thinking that way. He was
getting maudlin.
"I can't take this," He said, his voice shaking.
"I can't lose you, Son…"
"Neither can I."
Mark jerked around at the quiet voice behind him. Amy stood in
the doorway, a too-large bathrobe wrapped around her and trailing
an IV tree at her side. Her eyes were large and afraid. She
looked so young.
Wordlessly, he held out a hand and she shuffled into the room.
She sat beside him in the chair.
"Is Steve going to die?" she asked in a small voice.
"I hope not, sweetie. I hope not." Mark put his arm
around her and held her close.
***
Amanda pulled the curtain closed, finally having convinced Mark
to leave the ICU for ten minutes to eat something. Amy had been
sent back to her room for some much needed rest. She took a deep
breath before she turned to look at Steve.
She picked up his chart to give herself something to focus on.
There hadn't been any changes since she'd been in to check on him
before. Putting the chart back quietly, she sat down beside him.
Her fingers combed through his hair. "Steve? I know you can
hear me, you know." She cleared her throat. She let her
fingers trail down his cheek. "I just wanted you to know
that I'm here."
She looked down as she blinked back tears. "You've got to
stop doing things like this. You've got a daughter now. She needs
you. I-" Her words caught on the lump in her throat.
"Steve… God, I wish--"
The respirator alarm sounded shrilly. Amanda started, then pulled
back to look at the readout. She looked back at Steve to see his
chest shiver and his throat tighten as he tried to cough around
the tube.
***
"Steve? Steve, take it easy. You're okay." The voice
was gentle, familiar. "Just take slow, shallow breaths. I
know it hurts. I've given something for the pain." Jesse. It
had to be. "Steve… wake up, buddy. It's okay to wake up
now. Steve…"
Steve's eyes fluttered open as he instinctively tried to stifle
the coughing that rattled his chest. Memories flooded back and
only one person was on his mind. His throat was raw from the
intubation tubing and his voice came out a quiet, harsh whisper.
"Amy?"
Tears flowed down her face as she squeezed his hand. "I'm
right here, Steve. Jesse says you're going to be all right."
Amanda smiled at her over his bed, eyes shining. Her hand was
resting protectively on Steve's other arm.
Steve let out a small sigh and his eyes drifted shut.
Mark brushed back his son's hair. "That's right, Steve. You
just rest now."
"I love you," Steve whispered.
The small group of friends, family, glanced at one another. He
didn't say whom he was addressing, but each one knew it could be
them, and they silently returned the sentiment.
END
© 2001 Sam SingingWolf and Jana
Tropper The characters mentioned in this story are the
property of CBS and Viacom. All characters who have appeared in
the series Diagnosis Murder, together with the names, titles and
backstory are the sole copyright property of CBS and Viacom. This
fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and
solely meant for entertainment. No profit is being made by this
story. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself
are the sole property of the authors.
