Title: There For Me
Author: Sam Singing Wolf
Email: SngngWolf@aol.com
Summary: No particular plot… the note at the end explains it
all.
Rated: G
"His fever's gone up…"
"I need another cooling blanket in here…"
"Get me 20 cc's of…"
The voices began to mesh and blur until one rose above the
others.
"Steve…"
Steve struggled to open his eyes. The lights were so bright, he
knew it would hurt, it always did.
"Steve…"
The voice was insistent, and somehow familiar. He wanted to obey
that voice. It was soft and feminine, and it made him feel safe
and warm.
"Steve…"
Memories drifted through his thoughts. Laughter on a sunny beach,
dragging a surfboard that was bigger than he was… Filling a
water balloon, hoping no one saw him and the shock of cold water
hitting him in the back… Police Academy graduation, his new
badge pinned on, looking out into the audience to see his parents
looking on proudly, tears in their eyes… A hospital room,
smelling of flowers and disinfectant, dread clutching his heart…
More flowers, more tears, the sun warm on his black clothing but
his heart cold and grieving… Alone… So alone…
"Steve…"
He opened his eyes and found to his surprise, there was no pain.
The all-too familiar hospital ceiling came into sharp focus. He
took a deep breath. Still, no pain. Why not? Why was he in the
hospital? And who was calling him?
He looked around the room. There was the usual equipment, an IV
pump, heart monitor, and others he had never bothered to learn
the name or function of. But there was no one else in the room….
There. By the window. The sun was shining through, highlighting
her from behind. Her hair shone golden around her. And her face…
Steve choked back a sob.
"Mom?"
He got to his feet and crossed to her. Her smile was brighter
than the Los Angeles sun. "Hello, son. I've missed you
so."
He reached out a shaking hand and touched her face. She was real,
solid. "Mom…" he whispered. Tears filled his eyes
as he pulled her into his arms. She was just like he remembered,
before the cancer had taken her strength.
She returned the embrace tightly, then pulled back. "I
hadn't expected to see you so soon," she said.
His eyes widened and he turned to look back at the bed he a left
a moment before. At himself. He was still lying there, his hair
damp and his face flushed with fever.
"Am I dead?"
"No, Steve." She put a hand on his arm. "You're
very sick, but your father and your friends are going to see that
you'll be all right."
"Why are you here?"
"To see that you don't give up."
He slipped an arm around her shoulders. Before he could speak,
the door opened.
Jesse walked over to the bed, checking instruments and the chart
on the table. When he had gone over everything twice, he sat down
with a sigh. He leaned forward, forearms on the bed next to
Steve's shoulder.
"Hey, buddy. How're you feeling?" His voice betrayed
none of the weariness in his eyes. "You know, we're getting
awful tired of waiting on you, hand and foot. I'm starting to
suspect you're just in this for the sponge baths." He smiled
and one hand absently brushed through Steve's hair.
With a glance at his mother, Steve moved to stand across the bed
from Jesse. "Hey, Jess," he said quietly. When Jesse
didn't react, he said, "He can't hear me, can he?" He
looked around to see her shake her head.
"You can't leave us, Steve. We… the four of us…
we've become a family. We need you."
"C'mon, Jess. Don't get mushy on me."
Jesse smiled and ducked his head shyly. "I guess I should be
glad you can't hear me. You never did care for this mushy stuff.
"But it's true. I…" he shrugged. "You know I
don't have the greatest family in the world. At first, I envied
you. But then I realized I didn't have to be you to be part of
your family. When your dad took me in, you did too. You've always
been there for me. Always. Even when you get mad at me, I know
it's just because you're trying to protect me. I never thanked
you for that."
Steve swallowed around the lump in his throat. "You didn't
have to, Jess."
He looked up as the door opened again and Mark and Amanda walked
in. Steve almost gasped at the haggard look on his dad's face. He
looked older than he'd ever seen him.
"How's he doing, Jesse?" Mark asked.
Jesse stood up and motioned for Mark to sit down. "No
change." He exchanged a worried look with Amanda. "But
I was just telling him he needed to wake up so we could get on
with Amanda's surfing lessons."
That drew a tired smile from Mark, and Steve was glad to see it.
They'd been trying to get her out on a board for the last month,
with no luck.
Amanda put her hand on Steve's head. "Yeah, you don't think
this guy is going to get me out there alone, do you?" she
said, tipping her head in Jesse's direction. "No way, Steve.
You want to teach me to surf, you'd better get your butt out of
that bed and do it."
They all smiled at that, then lapsed into silence.
"They're all here for you, son."
Steve looked at his mother. She was so beautiful, just like he
remembered…
***
Bright. The light was so bright against his closed eyelids. Steve
willed them to open, knowing it was going to hurt, but needing to
*see*…
It did. It hurt.
He never cared less in his life.
He drew in a shaky breath, slowly turning his head. Was it all a
dream? Did he really see…?
There. They were all still there. They were sprawled in
uncomfortable looking chairs, Amanda with her head resting on
Mark's shoulder, both of them sound asleep. Jesse snored. Steve
smiled.
Flowers. He smelled flowers again. He looked around, seeing
bright bouquets around the room, and dozens of cards along the
windowsill. He squinted at them. So many… who could they be
from?
Beth, she was a nurse in the ER. Sue, an officer from the
station. Anna, Jana, Krys, Ingrid, Betty, Martha, Margaret,
Linda, Maggie, Ona, Pammie, Cindi, Mary…. So many others, he
couldn't keep track… the names started to blur as his eyes
filled with tears. So many people.
What could I have done to deserve this…? Some of these
people hardly know me… Yet they care so much…
He looked back at his family and smiled again. You were right,
Mom. I'm really not alone. I never was.
Dedicated to *everyone* on the DMAS and BVD lists who
wished, prayed and helped me through my recovery last summer. I
can't express how much your letters and cards meant to me, but I
hope this story is some small beginning. I love you guys. Thanks
for always being there for me.
© 2000 Sam Singing Wolf 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 back-story 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 author.
