Chapter 13
Steve watched Emma Lopez walk across the grass toward the bench he'd been occupying for the past half hour. He'd called and asked to meet her and, when she agreed, he'd suggested a park not far from the precinct. Steve knew he wasn't ready to return to the squad room yet especially after his rather abrupt exit the day before. He shook his head. Was that just yesterday? So much had happened in the ensuing twenty-four hours, fortunately for him all of it positive. He had reclaimed the part of his life that included his father and friends and had closed the chapter of his life that revolved around his job. Until recently, not being a cop would've scared Steve. His job had been so important to him, but in his heart he knew the time had come for him to move on and do something different. Fortunately he had the restaurant to concentrate on, and he looked forward to being able to devote himself full time to it.
Emma took a seat next to Steve and sighed. "What a beautiful day."
For the first time, Steve noticed how tired Emma looked and with a pang of guilt realized he was probably a major cause of it. "Thanks for meeting me."
"It's on my way home. Anyway, I wanted to make sure you were okay."
"Worried about me?" he asked, lightly.
"If you only could've seen yourself yesterday," Emma said, seriously. "Everybody in the precinct was worried. I had to call Newman at home last night after your dad found you at Doctor Bentley's."
Steve hated the fact he'd caused his friends and coworkers so much worry. "I am sorry about that. Sorry about a lot of things actually. Jesse told me how you stayed with Dad when I walked out yesterday. I'm not proud of how I acted. I don't think I've ever been lower emotionally than I was yesterday. Even after coming home from Vietnam and having people curse me and spit at me." he trailed off.
"You don't have to say anymore. Apology accepted. I can't even begin to imagine what you've been going through or what you've had to deal with the past few months." Emma sighed again. "I'm just sorry we haven't been able to get this guy. I want to solve this one so bad for you and your dad. You deserve that much at least."
"I won't - can't - lie to you. I want this guy too, but I know it's not for a lack of trying that you haven't caught him. You and the whole department have spent countless hours following every lead and tip. You've done everything possible, and Dad and I appreciate it. More than you'll ever know."
"And we won't stop looking for this guy, Steve. You have my word on that, but.you realize we may never find him, right?" Emma looked at Steve. "Are you prepared to accept that?"
Steve stared unseeingly across the park. Was he prepared to face that reality? That the person who had murdered his sister and coldly dumped her in an alley like trash might never be caught and punished? It was a question he'd wrestled with during many of his long sleepless nights. He was no closer to an answer now than he had been then. Shaking his head, Steve returned his attention to Emma.
"I don't know," he answered, honestly. "That rational, cop part of me knows all the statistics about unsolved cases and the likelihood of getting a conviction. The part of me who was Carol's brother, though, is screaming for something to be done. That it can't just end like this. For the first time, I really understand a family's pain and anger when they're told there's nothing more that can be done; that every lead has been exhausted." This time it was Steve who sighed. "But I have to face the fact we may never find out who killed Carol. It's painful to accept that, but I have to find a way to cope with it. If I don't, it'll eat me up inside, and I don't want to live like that."
"What about your dad?"
Steve thought about his dad, a compassionate and gentle man who had dedicated his life to saving the lives of others. He had seen Mark forgive many people over the years for any number of wrongs but this was different. Someone had hurt a member of his family and family had always been Mark Sloan's first priority. Steve wasn't sure what his dad would do.
"We haven't talked about it. He's been a part of enough investigations to know what I know, but everything changes when it's personal."
Steve and Emma talked for a few more minutes before Emma said she needed to get home. He thanked her again for everything she'd done and made her promise to stop by BBQ Bob's sometime. Emma agreed immediately knowing she wouldn't be able to resist a big plate of ribs. After reminding him to keep in touch, she headed back across the park and toward her car. Steve watched her go but made no move to follow. It would be several hours before Mark got home from the hospital and he wasn't quite ready to return to the empty beach house.
***************
Mark unlocked the front door of the beach house and stepped inside gratefully. Every bone and muscle in his body screamed with exhaustion. Even after he'd known Steve was safe at Amanda's house, Mark had laid awake most of the night worrying about his son. Consequently he'd only been asleep a short while when he'd received Amanda's predawn phone call telling him he should drive to her house right away to try and speak with Steve. The emotional confrontation that had followed had been mentally draining and then he'd had a busy afternoon at the hospital. Mark shook his head. He probably should've postponed his surgical case or found someone to replace him. He knew he hadn't been as sharp as he should've been but fortunately the surgery had been routine and had gone off without incident.
Other than a small lamp that cast a soft welcoming glow in the entry the house was dark. It appeared Steve's apartment was dark also. Mark listened as he made his way toward the kitchen, but the house was as silent as it was dark. He was beginning to wonder if Steve had already gone to bed when a shadow of movement on the deck caught his eye. Picking up his glass of iced tea, Mark walked over to the door.
"Steve?"
"Out here, Dad." Steve's voice came out of the night.
"Do you want something to drink?"
"No thanks. I've already got a beer."
Mark eased his tired body into a chair. "That wasn't in the refrigerator was it?"
"No, I stopped and bought it this afternoon." Steve toyed absently with the empty bottle. "It's the first one I've had since before Carol died."
Mark was puzzled. He didn't care if Steve had an occasional beer and Steve knew that. He also knew his son was responsible enough not to drive if he drank too much. "You're an adult. I trust you to know what you can handle."
"There were a lot nights the past few weeks when I would've liked nothing better than to just lock the door and drink until I couldn't feel anything anymore so the dream wouldn't come."
"That wouldn't have solved anything."
"I know. That's why, as much as I wanted to, I didn't do it."
Suddenly Mark understood. Alcohol abuse was a common coping mechanism for people who found their grief and pain too overwhelming. This was Steve's way of telling him he hadn't succumbed to the temptation of using alcohol to numb his pain. Relieved, Mark let the silence stretch a little longer before finally asking, "How was the rest of your day?"
"Good." Steve told him about his meeting with Emma. "I also saw Doctor Fulton."
"He's the department psychiatrist?"
"Yes." Steve stopped.
"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."
"It's okay. We mostly talked about what happened this morning." Steve smiled in the darkness. "I don't think he agreed professionally with the methods you and Amanda used, but he could see the difference in me as soon as I walked through the door so he conceded it was probably more effective than him trying to chip through my defenses a little at a time."
Mark also smiled. "That's really not your style," he agreed. "Are you going to see him again?"
"For a few more sessions. I don't know exactly how many. He says I'm still carrying around a lot of guilt about what happened."
"And are you?"
"I can't help it. It's just part of me, but Doctor Fulton seems to think I may have started to come to terms with it this morning when I was forced to confront my grief. When I saw him the first time, he told me I hadn't started to mourn Carol yet. He said that until I went through the mourning process, I'd never really be able to heal and move on. At the time I thought he was crazy but, as it turns out, I guess he was right."
Mark was proud of his son and didn't hesitate in telling him so. "And I want you to remember I'm always here. I know you think you have to protect me, but it's important that we're honest with each other. You're not the only one who was left with unresolved issues. I struggle with how I could've been a better father to Carol so you're not the only one with guilt."
"It seems the apple doesn't fall from far the tree."
"We are a lot alike aren't we?"
"Especially when it comes to Carol." Steve's tone was wry.
Mark's chuckle was cut off by a yawn. "Go to bed, Dad. You're exhausted."
"I feel like I could sleep for a week," Mark admitted.
"Do you have to be at the hospital in the morning?"
"Jesse agreed to look in on my patients. The only reason I'd have to go in is if something happened with my surgical patient."
"Good. Maybe we can drive up the coast for dinner. Just the two of us."
"I'd like that." Mark rose. "Should I lock up?"
"Go ahead. I'll use my outside door when I'm ready to go in."
"Okay. Don't stay out here too long."
"I won't." Steve paused a second before adding softly, "I love you, Dad."
Mark's hand stilled on the doorknob and he swallowed hard against the rush of emotion that simple sentence evoked. "I love you too, Steve," he replied, hoarsely.
Steve listened as his dad closed and locked the doors leading out to the deck. Sometime they'd have to talk about their feelings regarding the possibility of Carol's murderer never being caught but it wouldn't be tonight. The conversation was too important to discuss when Mark was so tired. Nevertheless, they wouldn't be able to put it off too long because Steve knew that finding a way to come to terms with that very real possibility would be an important piece to the healing they both had to do.
When he was satisfied Mark was truly in for the night, Steve pulled Carol's teddy bear, Willie, from the deep corner of his chair. He wasn't sure why he'd hidden the scruffy bear when his dad had stepped onto the deck. Maybe it was because he was a little embarrassed at the thought of being caught clutching it although he knew he had no reason to be. Steve knew Mark would never judge him about that. More likely it was because the bear was his last link to Carol and he was reluctant to share it with anyone even his father with whom he shared virtually everything else. Burying his face in Willie's matted fur, he could still faintly smell the soap and perfume combination that had been uniquely Carol's. Steve wished Willie could talk so the bear could tell him why Carol had, despite her obvious anger toward her brother, chosen to hang onto him for all these years. Steve hoped it meant that she too had never forgotten the bond they had shared growing up and that she had hoped that one day they would truly reconcile their relationship and be able to put their past differences behind them. Absently he stroked Willie's head.
"All I ever wanted was for you to be happy, Carol." Steve put a voice to his thoughts. "You'll never know how much I regret causing you so much unhappiness. I hope you can forgive me. And I'm sorry we never totally resolved our differences, but know that I'll miss you.and love you forever."
Falling silent, Steve listened to the familiar sound of the ocean. In the distance, he could hear a boat as it motored slowly along the shoreline and the laughter of its passengers no doubt heading home after a day of fun and sun. Someday he'd laugh again too, Steve knew. Maybe not tomorrow or even next month but someday in the future his grief would ease allowing him to laugh again. In the meantime, though, he and his dad would mourn Carol's death taking as much time as they needed to do it. They would help each other with the difficult task of letting go and saying good-bye as well as doing everything they could to keep her memory alive. No matter what happened or how much time passed, Steve knew he'd spoken the truth. He would never forget his sister.
Suddenly, a bright light lit up the dark sky. Steve watched as a meteor reentered the atmosphere and streaked across the sky before fading in the night. Not one to usually believe in such things, he nonetheless took it as a sign that Carol had heard him and was extending her own olive branch. Hugging Willie a little closer, Steve turned from the railing and headed downstairs to his apartment. For the first time in many weeks, he looked forward to going to sleep. No longer did he have to fear the nightmare. His darkest hour had finally passed.
The End
Author's Note: For those of you expecting a neat resolution to Carol's murder, I apologize for undoubtedly disappointing you. When I started this story, my original intent was to give Mark and Steve some measure of closure with the capture and conviction of the person responsible. While I was writing, however, I got caught up in the media coverage of a local trial in which it took police nearly eight years to arrest and bring to trial a suspect in a murder case. That started me thinking. What if the police couldn't find the person who'd murdered Carol? How would Mark and Steve deal with that on top of their grief and guilt? So I dumped the outline I'd been working from, changed directions and this was the result. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
Thanks for all your reviews and comments which were greatly appreciated! And special thanks to Nonny for without her encouragement this story never would've been posted!
Sharon
Steve watched Emma Lopez walk across the grass toward the bench he'd been occupying for the past half hour. He'd called and asked to meet her and, when she agreed, he'd suggested a park not far from the precinct. Steve knew he wasn't ready to return to the squad room yet especially after his rather abrupt exit the day before. He shook his head. Was that just yesterday? So much had happened in the ensuing twenty-four hours, fortunately for him all of it positive. He had reclaimed the part of his life that included his father and friends and had closed the chapter of his life that revolved around his job. Until recently, not being a cop would've scared Steve. His job had been so important to him, but in his heart he knew the time had come for him to move on and do something different. Fortunately he had the restaurant to concentrate on, and he looked forward to being able to devote himself full time to it.
Emma took a seat next to Steve and sighed. "What a beautiful day."
For the first time, Steve noticed how tired Emma looked and with a pang of guilt realized he was probably a major cause of it. "Thanks for meeting me."
"It's on my way home. Anyway, I wanted to make sure you were okay."
"Worried about me?" he asked, lightly.
"If you only could've seen yourself yesterday," Emma said, seriously. "Everybody in the precinct was worried. I had to call Newman at home last night after your dad found you at Doctor Bentley's."
Steve hated the fact he'd caused his friends and coworkers so much worry. "I am sorry about that. Sorry about a lot of things actually. Jesse told me how you stayed with Dad when I walked out yesterday. I'm not proud of how I acted. I don't think I've ever been lower emotionally than I was yesterday. Even after coming home from Vietnam and having people curse me and spit at me." he trailed off.
"You don't have to say anymore. Apology accepted. I can't even begin to imagine what you've been going through or what you've had to deal with the past few months." Emma sighed again. "I'm just sorry we haven't been able to get this guy. I want to solve this one so bad for you and your dad. You deserve that much at least."
"I won't - can't - lie to you. I want this guy too, but I know it's not for a lack of trying that you haven't caught him. You and the whole department have spent countless hours following every lead and tip. You've done everything possible, and Dad and I appreciate it. More than you'll ever know."
"And we won't stop looking for this guy, Steve. You have my word on that, but.you realize we may never find him, right?" Emma looked at Steve. "Are you prepared to accept that?"
Steve stared unseeingly across the park. Was he prepared to face that reality? That the person who had murdered his sister and coldly dumped her in an alley like trash might never be caught and punished? It was a question he'd wrestled with during many of his long sleepless nights. He was no closer to an answer now than he had been then. Shaking his head, Steve returned his attention to Emma.
"I don't know," he answered, honestly. "That rational, cop part of me knows all the statistics about unsolved cases and the likelihood of getting a conviction. The part of me who was Carol's brother, though, is screaming for something to be done. That it can't just end like this. For the first time, I really understand a family's pain and anger when they're told there's nothing more that can be done; that every lead has been exhausted." This time it was Steve who sighed. "But I have to face the fact we may never find out who killed Carol. It's painful to accept that, but I have to find a way to cope with it. If I don't, it'll eat me up inside, and I don't want to live like that."
"What about your dad?"
Steve thought about his dad, a compassionate and gentle man who had dedicated his life to saving the lives of others. He had seen Mark forgive many people over the years for any number of wrongs but this was different. Someone had hurt a member of his family and family had always been Mark Sloan's first priority. Steve wasn't sure what his dad would do.
"We haven't talked about it. He's been a part of enough investigations to know what I know, but everything changes when it's personal."
Steve and Emma talked for a few more minutes before Emma said she needed to get home. He thanked her again for everything she'd done and made her promise to stop by BBQ Bob's sometime. Emma agreed immediately knowing she wouldn't be able to resist a big plate of ribs. After reminding him to keep in touch, she headed back across the park and toward her car. Steve watched her go but made no move to follow. It would be several hours before Mark got home from the hospital and he wasn't quite ready to return to the empty beach house.
***************
Mark unlocked the front door of the beach house and stepped inside gratefully. Every bone and muscle in his body screamed with exhaustion. Even after he'd known Steve was safe at Amanda's house, Mark had laid awake most of the night worrying about his son. Consequently he'd only been asleep a short while when he'd received Amanda's predawn phone call telling him he should drive to her house right away to try and speak with Steve. The emotional confrontation that had followed had been mentally draining and then he'd had a busy afternoon at the hospital. Mark shook his head. He probably should've postponed his surgical case or found someone to replace him. He knew he hadn't been as sharp as he should've been but fortunately the surgery had been routine and had gone off without incident.
Other than a small lamp that cast a soft welcoming glow in the entry the house was dark. It appeared Steve's apartment was dark also. Mark listened as he made his way toward the kitchen, but the house was as silent as it was dark. He was beginning to wonder if Steve had already gone to bed when a shadow of movement on the deck caught his eye. Picking up his glass of iced tea, Mark walked over to the door.
"Steve?"
"Out here, Dad." Steve's voice came out of the night.
"Do you want something to drink?"
"No thanks. I've already got a beer."
Mark eased his tired body into a chair. "That wasn't in the refrigerator was it?"
"No, I stopped and bought it this afternoon." Steve toyed absently with the empty bottle. "It's the first one I've had since before Carol died."
Mark was puzzled. He didn't care if Steve had an occasional beer and Steve knew that. He also knew his son was responsible enough not to drive if he drank too much. "You're an adult. I trust you to know what you can handle."
"There were a lot nights the past few weeks when I would've liked nothing better than to just lock the door and drink until I couldn't feel anything anymore so the dream wouldn't come."
"That wouldn't have solved anything."
"I know. That's why, as much as I wanted to, I didn't do it."
Suddenly Mark understood. Alcohol abuse was a common coping mechanism for people who found their grief and pain too overwhelming. This was Steve's way of telling him he hadn't succumbed to the temptation of using alcohol to numb his pain. Relieved, Mark let the silence stretch a little longer before finally asking, "How was the rest of your day?"
"Good." Steve told him about his meeting with Emma. "I also saw Doctor Fulton."
"He's the department psychiatrist?"
"Yes." Steve stopped.
"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."
"It's okay. We mostly talked about what happened this morning." Steve smiled in the darkness. "I don't think he agreed professionally with the methods you and Amanda used, but he could see the difference in me as soon as I walked through the door so he conceded it was probably more effective than him trying to chip through my defenses a little at a time."
Mark also smiled. "That's really not your style," he agreed. "Are you going to see him again?"
"For a few more sessions. I don't know exactly how many. He says I'm still carrying around a lot of guilt about what happened."
"And are you?"
"I can't help it. It's just part of me, but Doctor Fulton seems to think I may have started to come to terms with it this morning when I was forced to confront my grief. When I saw him the first time, he told me I hadn't started to mourn Carol yet. He said that until I went through the mourning process, I'd never really be able to heal and move on. At the time I thought he was crazy but, as it turns out, I guess he was right."
Mark was proud of his son and didn't hesitate in telling him so. "And I want you to remember I'm always here. I know you think you have to protect me, but it's important that we're honest with each other. You're not the only one who was left with unresolved issues. I struggle with how I could've been a better father to Carol so you're not the only one with guilt."
"It seems the apple doesn't fall from far the tree."
"We are a lot alike aren't we?"
"Especially when it comes to Carol." Steve's tone was wry.
Mark's chuckle was cut off by a yawn. "Go to bed, Dad. You're exhausted."
"I feel like I could sleep for a week," Mark admitted.
"Do you have to be at the hospital in the morning?"
"Jesse agreed to look in on my patients. The only reason I'd have to go in is if something happened with my surgical patient."
"Good. Maybe we can drive up the coast for dinner. Just the two of us."
"I'd like that." Mark rose. "Should I lock up?"
"Go ahead. I'll use my outside door when I'm ready to go in."
"Okay. Don't stay out here too long."
"I won't." Steve paused a second before adding softly, "I love you, Dad."
Mark's hand stilled on the doorknob and he swallowed hard against the rush of emotion that simple sentence evoked. "I love you too, Steve," he replied, hoarsely.
Steve listened as his dad closed and locked the doors leading out to the deck. Sometime they'd have to talk about their feelings regarding the possibility of Carol's murderer never being caught but it wouldn't be tonight. The conversation was too important to discuss when Mark was so tired. Nevertheless, they wouldn't be able to put it off too long because Steve knew that finding a way to come to terms with that very real possibility would be an important piece to the healing they both had to do.
When he was satisfied Mark was truly in for the night, Steve pulled Carol's teddy bear, Willie, from the deep corner of his chair. He wasn't sure why he'd hidden the scruffy bear when his dad had stepped onto the deck. Maybe it was because he was a little embarrassed at the thought of being caught clutching it although he knew he had no reason to be. Steve knew Mark would never judge him about that. More likely it was because the bear was his last link to Carol and he was reluctant to share it with anyone even his father with whom he shared virtually everything else. Burying his face in Willie's matted fur, he could still faintly smell the soap and perfume combination that had been uniquely Carol's. Steve wished Willie could talk so the bear could tell him why Carol had, despite her obvious anger toward her brother, chosen to hang onto him for all these years. Steve hoped it meant that she too had never forgotten the bond they had shared growing up and that she had hoped that one day they would truly reconcile their relationship and be able to put their past differences behind them. Absently he stroked Willie's head.
"All I ever wanted was for you to be happy, Carol." Steve put a voice to his thoughts. "You'll never know how much I regret causing you so much unhappiness. I hope you can forgive me. And I'm sorry we never totally resolved our differences, but know that I'll miss you.and love you forever."
Falling silent, Steve listened to the familiar sound of the ocean. In the distance, he could hear a boat as it motored slowly along the shoreline and the laughter of its passengers no doubt heading home after a day of fun and sun. Someday he'd laugh again too, Steve knew. Maybe not tomorrow or even next month but someday in the future his grief would ease allowing him to laugh again. In the meantime, though, he and his dad would mourn Carol's death taking as much time as they needed to do it. They would help each other with the difficult task of letting go and saying good-bye as well as doing everything they could to keep her memory alive. No matter what happened or how much time passed, Steve knew he'd spoken the truth. He would never forget his sister.
Suddenly, a bright light lit up the dark sky. Steve watched as a meteor reentered the atmosphere and streaked across the sky before fading in the night. Not one to usually believe in such things, he nonetheless took it as a sign that Carol had heard him and was extending her own olive branch. Hugging Willie a little closer, Steve turned from the railing and headed downstairs to his apartment. For the first time in many weeks, he looked forward to going to sleep. No longer did he have to fear the nightmare. His darkest hour had finally passed.
The End
Author's Note: For those of you expecting a neat resolution to Carol's murder, I apologize for undoubtedly disappointing you. When I started this story, my original intent was to give Mark and Steve some measure of closure with the capture and conviction of the person responsible. While I was writing, however, I got caught up in the media coverage of a local trial in which it took police nearly eight years to arrest and bring to trial a suspect in a murder case. That started me thinking. What if the police couldn't find the person who'd murdered Carol? How would Mark and Steve deal with that on top of their grief and guilt? So I dumped the outline I'd been working from, changed directions and this was the result. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
Thanks for all your reviews and comments which were greatly appreciated! And special thanks to Nonny for without her encouragement this story never would've been posted!
Sharon