FIC: The Hiatus ~ Chapter 14
Title: The Hiatus ~ Chapter Fourteen
Author: bugs
Rating: T+
Word Count: 3,800
Pairing: Sharon/OC, Sharon/Flynn UST, Sharon, Rusty
Spoilers: Through season 1 of Major Crimes
Summary: Sharon must deal with her past as her everyday responsibilities call for her attention.
Chapter 14:
Sharon handed her weapon to an unfamiliar FID detective. "Only one shot fired," she said flatly. "One in the chamber. I placed the safety on."
Nodding, he carefully placed the service piece in a plastic evidence bag.
Hunched over on the sidewalk, Nick barked, "You didn't shoot him. He shot himself."
"That will be determined--" she snapped back.
Since Sharon wasn't listening to him, Nick addressed Flynn. "He had the gun on me, then we heard her order to drop it, and he must have known he only had time for one shot. He took it for himself."
Flynn flipped back the sheet on Howard's body. "Hard to say. Most of the head's gone. We'll be able to see more once he's cleaned up--"
Nick grimaced and used a cloth provided by the EMT to wipe more of the brain matter and blood from his own face. The paramedic parted Nick's hair on the back of his head and peered at the lumps forming.
"You'll need a CAT scan," the young woman said, gaining a grumble from Nick.
Sanchez stood beside Sharon to gauge her height, then moved to the spot she'd been standing when she fired. Tao gave him the laser which the younger man held like a weapon.
Tao used his viewfinder to seek the location of Sharon's bullet. "I think it may have struck the side of that house," he said, pointing to a tan stucco structure across the street.
"Even if it wasn't the kill shot, I discharged my weapon," said Sharon stubbornly.
With a groan, Nick stood. In her eyes, he could see that blankness what came when she retreated behind an emotional wall. When he shook his head in disgust, it throbbed.
"Son of a bitch," he growled.
"Sir, let's put you on this gurney," said the paramedic.
"Hell, no," said Nick. "I'll drive myself to the hospital--"
Andy turned his back on the argument which ensued. By now, Tao, boosted by Sanchez, appeared to be digging a bullet out of the side of the house while an old woman in a flowered housecoat protested from her front stoop.
Sykes hurried from the direction of the Slovens' house. "Captain, I think we determined how he got out of the house."
"Good," Sharon ground out. "We can't have those sort of mistakes happen again. He could have escaped.." She watched Nick stalking toward a waiting ambulance, still refusing any aid from the hovering paramedics. "Someone could have been killed." Then she looked down at the sheet-draped body. "Someone was killed."
Joining the chastised junior squad member, Provenza muttered, "That's the sort of taking justice into his own hands that I approve of."
He spoke louder: "Captain, they're bringing Rusty out. He's ready to go to the hospital."
"I want to be in the ambulance with him," she said.
The FID investigator lifted his head from examining the bullet fragment which Tao had brought to him. "Captain, you can't leave the scene--"
"You heard my husband. I didn't shoot Slovens. I'm going," she rattled off, turning away. She came face to face with Provenza.
The older man raised his eyebrows. "The rules don't apply to you?" he asked with a deadly casual manner. He'd been waiting a long time for this moment. Regardless how his attitude had changed toward Captain Raydor, he was going to take it.
She brushed past him. He called after her retreating back, "And next time, let Sanchez take the kill shot. That's what he's here for!"
Obviously ignoring him, she jumped in Nick's car. Provenza shook his head. Speaking as though she were still there, he added, "We need you, and we don't have you if you're under investigation."
Lieutenant Flynn watched her drive away. "Uh, I think I better head to the hospital too."
Provenza exploded. "Oh Christ! This isn't high school!"
"What're you talkin' about?" Andy said, his jaw clenching.
Muttering under his breath, Provenza stalked over to appease the still protesting FID investigators.
Forcing himself to listen to Sykes' report, Andy remained on the scene.
~*~
When two doctors came out of Rusty's hospital room, Sharon's head shot up. She'd been replying to the various tense texts from Taylor and her squad.
Rusty had been in unresponsive state for the entire ride to the UCLA Medical Center and she was desperate to know his status. But the younger doctor suggested, "Why don't we speak for a few minutes before you see Rusty?" instead.
Sharon reluctantly followed them to a small conference room. "How is he?" she asked after refusing the seat offered her.
The first doctor skirted her question. "I'm Doctor Yan," he said. "I've examined Rusty's physical injuries. We've sutured the cut and put him on a course of antibiotics. He tore some ligaments in his hip struggling against his bounds. Besides that, he's got burns from being tasered. But he's young and healthy. I expect a quick recovery."
"I'm Doctor Baker," said the other man, taking the time to shake Sharon's hand. "I've been assigned as Rusty's therapist."
Sharon turned her attention to Yan. "The knife wound isn't that serious?" she asked. "There was so much blood..."
"It was only superficial," Yan said. "I was concerned the attacker may have cut into the fascial layer but that was not the case."
"He'll be uncomfortable for a while though," said Sharon numbly, unable to get the image of Rusty's torn body from her mind.
"Yes, he'll have to be careful not to pull the stitches out. Does he play any sports?"
"No...Just some pickup basketball with my husband." She pulled a tissue from her pocket and quickly wiped her nose.
"Why don't you take a seat?" said Baker.
"I'd really like to see Rusty now," she insisted.
Yan said, "I need to get on with my rounds. Please feel free to contact me with any questions." He left her alone with Baker.
"Just a few minutes," said Baker, barring the door with his bulk.
Struck by a wave of weakness, she collapsed in a chair. "How is he?" she asked.
Baker got right to business. "There's no physical signs of sexual abuse. When I asked Rusty directly, he said no, but he seems very reticent on the topic."
"Yes." Her head drooping, she nodded.
"Perhaps you can help us with that."
"I don't know if he'll talk to me."
Baker's blue eyes sparkled behind his thick glasses. "I bet he will."
"I'll try," she said.
Baker checked his watch. "We're only a few hours from an extremely traumatic experience. From the overview I've received, he's suffered repeated such traumas in the past few years. He may choose to process this and push it away with the others, or use it as the one which opens a door."
The doctor peaked his fingertips. "I'd be happy to confer with his regular therapist."
Sharon was forced to admit, "He doesn't have one."
The knowing gaze missed nothing. "I see."
"I should go to him now." Sharon struggled out of the chair.
"Of course." Baker rose as well. "I'll be back in to see Rusty this evening."
But outside the conference room, Sharon was accosted again, this time by Taylor. "Captain, we need to talk," he said, standing between her and Rusty's room.
"Chief, I'm sorry, but I'm going to see Rusty and assess his status. We must assure that he'll be ready for his testimony." She surprised herself at how level her voice sounded.
She started to push past Taylor and he took her arm. She looked down at it and he drew back his hand. "Captain--Sharon. I understand what you're feeling; I have a boy of my own."
"With all due respect, I doubt that you do understand," she said clearly. "If you'll excuse me--"
"This isn't over, Captain," he said.
She didn't look back. Nick was sitting outside Rusty's door and looked up questioningly as she approached. "Everything okay?" he asked with a nod toward Taylor.
"It'll be fine," she said with the tone which broached no argument.
He shrugged, seeing there was no point arguing with her.
Her hand on the door handle, she peered at him. "How are you?"
"Nothing's wrong," he said, dismissing her concern. "Go see Rusty. I'm heading home to clean up--" He looked down at his blood-stained clothes, then to hers. "I'll bring you some clean things, okay?"
She fished his car keys out of her pocket and thanked him, suddenly aware of how awful she must look and smell. She pulled off her jacket, stiff with dried blood. "Take this. I don't want to freak Rusty out all over again."
He gave her shoulder a squeeze. "I'll be back soon. And I'll bring Rusty clothes too. Maybe they'll let him go home today?"
Emotion suddenly breached her walls. "I--I don't know. We'll just have to see."
Cradling her face with his palm, he kissed the corner of her quivering mouth. "Go in there and find out," he murmured. "I'll be back soon."
She could only nod quickly as a reply. As Nick walked to the elevator, she took a few deep breaths to clear her head and wiped her eyes with her tattered tissue.
Pushing open the hospital room door, she slipped in. Rusty lay on the bed, his pale face blending into the pillow. His eyes were closed.
She crept up and took the chair behind him. The scrape of the legs on the floor made his eyelids fly open.
"I'm sorry," she said quickly, grasping his hand.
His tense fingers wrapped around hers and her smile trembled.
"'s 'kay," he mumbled.
She poured him a cup of water and he drank thirstily.
"Really dry," he explained.
She examined the I.V. nervously. "They're hydrating you."
He handed the cup back. "Thanks," he said, his voice sounding clear and strong again.
Blinking his eyes, Rusty stared at the bloodstains on her blouse. "Are you hurt?"
Confused, Sharon looked down. "Oh--No. Some of it's from you." Her smile became stiff.
"Who's the rest of it?" he asked.
"His name was Howard Slovens. Did you know that?"
"No. He didn't introduce himself, except as the master or some bullshit." Rusty leaned back into the pillows and focused on the ceiling. "Better take my statement. I can feel the pain pills taking effect."
"Your statement?" She noticed his chin quivering. This was how he was going to maintain control.
Fumbling in the bedside table, she found a small notepad and a pen. "I'm ready," she said, "start at the beginning."
"The night of the dance. That guy who took my picture with Poppy--"
"Adam Fetter?" she said.
Rusty half-rose from the bed. "You found out about him in a day?"
"Yes, Rusty. We've all been working very hard to find you," Sharon said, her voice choking.
"Wow," he whispered. "Okay, yeah, he started bugging me on the phone. I thought I could go meet him and tell him to f-off."
She put down the pen. "Rusty, why didn't you come to me? Talk to me what was going on?"
His gaze shifted to the wall. "I...I didn't want you to think I was too much trouble."
She started to protest.
"And Nick said it was my job to take care of you. I didn't want to bring more problems around."
Pursing her mouth, she picked her pen back up. "But when you got to the alley, it wasn't Adam waiting."
"No, that other guy showed up. Howard?"
She nodded.
"He tazed me and there wasn't anything I could do. Who the hell was he?"
"Adam Fetter found him in a chat room and posed as you to lure him to the alley."
"What a--"
"Yes," agreed Sharon. "Don't worry. We'll take care of Adam."
"Will I have to testify in that case too?" asked Rusty, sounding hopeless.
"We'll see about that," she said. "His father's a prominent attorney. They've already gotten a deal out of the LAPD for our charges to be able to find you--"
"I bet that didn't make you happy." Rusty smiled for the first time since she had come into the room.
She sat up straighter. "I wanted to find you, safe and sound."
He nodded.
"But now he faces Federal charges for child pornography and murder for hire," she explained.
"The pictures." Rusty began to twist his sheets tightly in his fists.
"We'll see what Fritz Howard can do about those," she said, pain slicing through her heart at his obvious distress.
Then the knife turned to jealousy when he glanced up. "Fritz? Did Brenda help too?"
"No. I didn't hear from her," Sharon said jerkily.
"Oh." Rusty processed what she'd said so far. "But you were able to trace this Howard guy."
"Yes." She put aside her pen again. "Rusty, did he abuse you? I mean, beyond the injuries we see?"
"You mean sex?" Rusty asked
"Yes." She held her breath.
"No, I figured out pretty quick that wasn't his thing. I'd met guys like him before. They get a hustler because we can be bought for a couple hours. But they don't want sex. They'll call you a fag and a cocksucker, really put the hate on. They just want to nearly kill you."
Sharon's hand flew to her mouth to keep from crying out.
"Yeah, just like that. Choke you, hand over the mouth, or around the neck. Their thrill is going right to the edge. Sometimes, yeah, that would turn them on, but it wasn't me. It was the part where my face turned purple." His affect was flat and emotionless, as though he was telling her about his history class lecture.
Grabbing his chilled hand, she brought it to her lips. "No one will ever hurt you again, Rusty," she promised.
"Did you kill him for me, Sharon?" he asked.
She didn't like his tone at all. They were on that cliff above the Hollywood Bowl again, and she had to keep him from tumbling off into the dark night.
"No, Rusty, I didn't. He killed himself because he was a coward. A coward who'd abduct a child and tie him up. Who'd want to kill another person to feel strong.:"
"Okay," Rusty said blankly. His fingers slipped from hers.
There was a knock at the door. "Yes," called out Sharon.
Nick poked his head in. "Good time?"
She looked at Rusty. He wagged his head in an unenthusiastic welcome.
"Come on in," she said.
Nick offered her a small duffle bag.
"How ya doin', kid?" he asked Rusty as she looked through it and put the young man's clothes in a drawer.
"Fine," said Rusty, then peered closely at Nick. "You look sorta beat up too."
Nick shrugged. "The nurse said you could shower in the bathroom if you want," he told Sharon.
The idea sounded utterly fantastic. "Will you be all right?" she asked Rusty.
"I'll keep him company," protested Nick.
She kept looking at Rusty. He managed another rare smile. "I'll be fine," he assured her.
In the bathroom, she turned the shower to boiling hot and stripped her caked, dusty makeup and her soiled clothes off before pinning up her hair. Under the water, she could finally let tears fall, knowing they could not be seen or heard.
"Knife wounds are a bitch," Nick said conversationally to Rusty.
"It itches."
Rusty watched Nick shift uncomfortably in his seat. Understanding dawned. "Oh Jeez, you managed to get yourself into the rescue too? Gonna show Sharon what a great guy you are?"
"I did not," corrected Nick. "I was sitting in my car, just like she told me to."
"Why were you even there?" grumbled Rusty. "You stick your nose in shit like no one I've ever met."
"I thought she might need some support. They didn't know if you'd still be alive when she went through that door."
Rusty rolled his eyes. "So your shoulder was gonna be there to cry on."
"It didn't work out that way." Nick rolled his neck, wincing.
"You didn't stay in the car," Rusty pointed out maliciously.
"I saw a mailman! Thought it might be the perp!"
Rusty' s trap had been sprung. "So you were trying to be a hero?"
Nick hunched his shoulders. "Bastard beat the shit out of me."
Rusty wanted to laugh at the older man, but for some reason he heard himself giving Nick a ready excuse. "That bastard was pissed off that he missed out on killing me. He needed to kill someone."
"Lucky for all of us, he offed himself instead," said Nick with satisfaction. "Wouldn't have been good for Sharon at all if her bullet had done the job."
"She shot at him?" Rusty asked. "She didn't tell me that."
"Don't tell her that I told you," Nick fussed, glancing at the bathroom door. The water had stopped running.
Rusty crossed his arms. "I'm not going to keep any secrets from her again," he said smugly.
Nick's dark gaze bored into him. "For today."
Before Rusty could give his retort, there was another knock on the door. It was Doctor Yan. As Sharon came out refreshed, he examined Rusty's sutures and checked his temperature.
"It's a little high, and the wound area's inflamed," he reported. "I'd like to keep Rusty overnight for sure."
"I want to get out of here," Rusty said, suddenly desperate and urgent.
"I'll stay," Sharon announced, sitting back down.
Nick turned to the doctor.
"I don't think that's a good idea--" said Yan. "I'd like to see you both have some rest."
Rusty met Nick's gaze over his doctor's shoulder. "Yeah, Sharon. You need to go home and sleep in your bed."
"I--" The exhaustion was obvious in her voice, but she fought on. "I don't want to leave you here."
"Listen, I'll go get some dinner for you guys. No hospital food. After that, Rusty will be out all night on pain meds, right?" Nick said to the doctor.
"Pretty much," said Yan.
Sharon reluctantly agreed and began to confer with the doctor about Rusty's after care. Nick took the chance to lean over and murmur to the young man, "Good job, kid."
*
Nick was cleaning up the dinner containers when Doctor Baker arrived. Rusty stiffened in his bed at the sight of his therapist. Sharon watched his reaction, her mouth pursing in thought.
"Kinda busy right now, Doctor," Rusty said, waving his hand around the room.
Nick introduced himself.
"Ah," Baker said at hearing he was Sharon's husband, making Nick's brow furrow.
Sharon stood. Her voice rang out, getting all of the men's attention. "Nick, why don't you go get the car and I'll come down front."
Nick opened his mouth, then closed it. "Sure."
"Doctor, if you could give us a few minutes, I'm going to chat with Rusty," she said crisply.
Now Rusty looked worried at the doctor leaving the room, but he was stuck in the hospital bed.
Sharon sat back down beside him and smiled. He found no reassurance in that expression, or when she said, "I need to apologize to you, Rusty."
"Nothin' you have to be sorry about," he babbled. He sensed where this was going.
She went on relentlessly. "I've failed you, Rusty. When you first moved in and I mentioned that you should see a therapist, I should have put my foot down. But I'd had a bad experience with a psychologist and my son..." She took a deep breath. "And I let that blind me to the obvious."
"But I don't wanna--"
"How this working out for you, Rusty?" she said sharply. "When confronted with Adam, you decided to deal with him like you were still on the streets. Seems like you're stuck in a destructive cycle."
Rusty sank into the bed and crossed his arms, his lower lip protruding sulkily.
She stood again. "You'll speak to Doctor Baker this evening and I'll get a referral from him for a regular therapist."
Rusty started to protest.
She leaned over and kissed his cheek. "I love you," she whispered in his ear.
His mouth fell open comically with shock. She used this as cover for her escape. He fumbled with something to say, he finally croaked, "Me too."
At the door, Sharon turned back. "Good. And goodnight, Rusty."
"Night," he said as she ushered Doctor Baker into the hospital room.
*
Right inside her front door, Sharon dropped her purse and the small duffle with her dirty clothes.
Nick shuffled in behind her, tossing down his car keys. He checked his watch. "Time for some more aspirin."
"Did the doctor give you anything stronger?" Sharon asked as she toed out of her running shoes.
"Nope. Just a mild concussion after all the tests. Head's still ringing like a bell," he complained. He headed for the bedroom and she followed him, keeping her eye rolling out of his sight.
She decided to humor him anyway. "Let me look," she said, sitting on the end of the bed and patting the mattress beside her.
Still grumbling, Nick said beside her. She parted the thick hair on the back of his head and found the bumps and contusions. "Oh my," she said, truly surprised. She pressed one.
"Ow," he complained pathetically.
"Good thing your skull's so thick," she noted. "Or there could have been some real damage here."
She expected him to make an equally smartass reply, but he only humped up his back like a turtle retreating into its shell. He twisted away on the bed.
Placing a hand on his shoulder, she held him close. "Oh, but your pride was hurt?" She was unsympathetic. "God, Nick, You can't be the hero this time. I'm the cop."
"It's not like that," he mumbled, focusing on his balled fists on his knees. "It's just...I have always been able to take care of myself in a fight. Even in 'Nam, I didn't ever think I was going to die.
But there was this moment, laying there on the sidewalk where I felt like that was it. I just wasn't strong enough to get that guy off me, and he had that gun on me--"
Her hand went from his shoulder to wrap around his neck and pull his heavy head to her. She buried her face in the crook of his neck. "No, Nick. No. I was there. I wasn't going to let him take you away from us."
She was suddenly back earlier in the day with all the terror and fury singing through her blood. Rusty's crumbled body caught in a flashlight's beam. A familiar sturdy figure pinned to the ground under a gun's aim. Her heartbeat thundering in her head, ticking off the seconds it took a bullet to leave the chamber and travel toward that man. Her grip tightened on Nick.
His body shook with tears and laughter. "I know how to pick 'em. You were there, Sharon Raydor. No one was going to kill me with you there." His arms slipped around her middle, bringing them closer together.
Tilting her head, she found his mouth. She took that first breath, drawing him into her as if they were both gasping for life again.
~End Chapter 14
Author: bugs
Rating: T+
Word Count: 3,800
Pairing: Sharon/OC, Sharon/Flynn UST, Sharon, Rusty
Spoilers: Through season 1 of Major Crimes
Summary: Sharon must deal with her past as her everyday responsibilities call for her attention.
Chapter 14:
Sharon handed her weapon to an unfamiliar FID detective. "Only one shot fired," she said flatly. "One in the chamber. I placed the safety on."
Nodding, he carefully placed the service piece in a plastic evidence bag.
Hunched over on the sidewalk, Nick barked, "You didn't shoot him. He shot himself."
"That will be determined--" she snapped back.
Since Sharon wasn't listening to him, Nick addressed Flynn. "He had the gun on me, then we heard her order to drop it, and he must have known he only had time for one shot. He took it for himself."
Flynn flipped back the sheet on Howard's body. "Hard to say. Most of the head's gone. We'll be able to see more once he's cleaned up--"
Nick grimaced and used a cloth provided by the EMT to wipe more of the brain matter and blood from his own face. The paramedic parted Nick's hair on the back of his head and peered at the lumps forming.
"You'll need a CAT scan," the young woman said, gaining a grumble from Nick.
Sanchez stood beside Sharon to gauge her height, then moved to the spot she'd been standing when she fired. Tao gave him the laser which the younger man held like a weapon.
Tao used his viewfinder to seek the location of Sharon's bullet. "I think it may have struck the side of that house," he said, pointing to a tan stucco structure across the street.
"Even if it wasn't the kill shot, I discharged my weapon," said Sharon stubbornly.
With a groan, Nick stood. In her eyes, he could see that blankness what came when she retreated behind an emotional wall. When he shook his head in disgust, it throbbed.
"Son of a bitch," he growled.
"Sir, let's put you on this gurney," said the paramedic.
"Hell, no," said Nick. "I'll drive myself to the hospital--"
Andy turned his back on the argument which ensued. By now, Tao, boosted by Sanchez, appeared to be digging a bullet out of the side of the house while an old woman in a flowered housecoat protested from her front stoop.
Sykes hurried from the direction of the Slovens' house. "Captain, I think we determined how he got out of the house."
"Good," Sharon ground out. "We can't have those sort of mistakes happen again. He could have escaped.." She watched Nick stalking toward a waiting ambulance, still refusing any aid from the hovering paramedics. "Someone could have been killed." Then she looked down at the sheet-draped body. "Someone was killed."
Joining the chastised junior squad member, Provenza muttered, "That's the sort of taking justice into his own hands that I approve of."
He spoke louder: "Captain, they're bringing Rusty out. He's ready to go to the hospital."
"I want to be in the ambulance with him," she said.
The FID investigator lifted his head from examining the bullet fragment which Tao had brought to him. "Captain, you can't leave the scene--"
"You heard my husband. I didn't shoot Slovens. I'm going," she rattled off, turning away. She came face to face with Provenza.
The older man raised his eyebrows. "The rules don't apply to you?" he asked with a deadly casual manner. He'd been waiting a long time for this moment. Regardless how his attitude had changed toward Captain Raydor, he was going to take it.
She brushed past him. He called after her retreating back, "And next time, let Sanchez take the kill shot. That's what he's here for!"
Obviously ignoring him, she jumped in Nick's car. Provenza shook his head. Speaking as though she were still there, he added, "We need you, and we don't have you if you're under investigation."
Lieutenant Flynn watched her drive away. "Uh, I think I better head to the hospital too."
Provenza exploded. "Oh Christ! This isn't high school!"
"What're you talkin' about?" Andy said, his jaw clenching.
Muttering under his breath, Provenza stalked over to appease the still protesting FID investigators.
Forcing himself to listen to Sykes' report, Andy remained on the scene.
~*~
When two doctors came out of Rusty's hospital room, Sharon's head shot up. She'd been replying to the various tense texts from Taylor and her squad.
Rusty had been in unresponsive state for the entire ride to the UCLA Medical Center and she was desperate to know his status. But the younger doctor suggested, "Why don't we speak for a few minutes before you see Rusty?" instead.
Sharon reluctantly followed them to a small conference room. "How is he?" she asked after refusing the seat offered her.
The first doctor skirted her question. "I'm Doctor Yan," he said. "I've examined Rusty's physical injuries. We've sutured the cut and put him on a course of antibiotics. He tore some ligaments in his hip struggling against his bounds. Besides that, he's got burns from being tasered. But he's young and healthy. I expect a quick recovery."
"I'm Doctor Baker," said the other man, taking the time to shake Sharon's hand. "I've been assigned as Rusty's therapist."
Sharon turned her attention to Yan. "The knife wound isn't that serious?" she asked. "There was so much blood..."
"It was only superficial," Yan said. "I was concerned the attacker may have cut into the fascial layer but that was not the case."
"He'll be uncomfortable for a while though," said Sharon numbly, unable to get the image of Rusty's torn body from her mind.
"Yes, he'll have to be careful not to pull the stitches out. Does he play any sports?"
"No...Just some pickup basketball with my husband." She pulled a tissue from her pocket and quickly wiped her nose.
"Why don't you take a seat?" said Baker.
"I'd really like to see Rusty now," she insisted.
Yan said, "I need to get on with my rounds. Please feel free to contact me with any questions." He left her alone with Baker.
"Just a few minutes," said Baker, barring the door with his bulk.
Struck by a wave of weakness, she collapsed in a chair. "How is he?" she asked.
Baker got right to business. "There's no physical signs of sexual abuse. When I asked Rusty directly, he said no, but he seems very reticent on the topic."
"Yes." Her head drooping, she nodded.
"Perhaps you can help us with that."
"I don't know if he'll talk to me."
Baker's blue eyes sparkled behind his thick glasses. "I bet he will."
"I'll try," she said.
Baker checked his watch. "We're only a few hours from an extremely traumatic experience. From the overview I've received, he's suffered repeated such traumas in the past few years. He may choose to process this and push it away with the others, or use it as the one which opens a door."
The doctor peaked his fingertips. "I'd be happy to confer with his regular therapist."
Sharon was forced to admit, "He doesn't have one."
The knowing gaze missed nothing. "I see."
"I should go to him now." Sharon struggled out of the chair.
"Of course." Baker rose as well. "I'll be back in to see Rusty this evening."
But outside the conference room, Sharon was accosted again, this time by Taylor. "Captain, we need to talk," he said, standing between her and Rusty's room.
"Chief, I'm sorry, but I'm going to see Rusty and assess his status. We must assure that he'll be ready for his testimony." She surprised herself at how level her voice sounded.
She started to push past Taylor and he took her arm. She looked down at it and he drew back his hand. "Captain--Sharon. I understand what you're feeling; I have a boy of my own."
"With all due respect, I doubt that you do understand," she said clearly. "If you'll excuse me--"
"This isn't over, Captain," he said.
She didn't look back. Nick was sitting outside Rusty's door and looked up questioningly as she approached. "Everything okay?" he asked with a nod toward Taylor.
"It'll be fine," she said with the tone which broached no argument.
He shrugged, seeing there was no point arguing with her.
Her hand on the door handle, she peered at him. "How are you?"
"Nothing's wrong," he said, dismissing her concern. "Go see Rusty. I'm heading home to clean up--" He looked down at his blood-stained clothes, then to hers. "I'll bring you some clean things, okay?"
She fished his car keys out of her pocket and thanked him, suddenly aware of how awful she must look and smell. She pulled off her jacket, stiff with dried blood. "Take this. I don't want to freak Rusty out all over again."
He gave her shoulder a squeeze. "I'll be back soon. And I'll bring Rusty clothes too. Maybe they'll let him go home today?"
Emotion suddenly breached her walls. "I--I don't know. We'll just have to see."
Cradling her face with his palm, he kissed the corner of her quivering mouth. "Go in there and find out," he murmured. "I'll be back soon."
She could only nod quickly as a reply. As Nick walked to the elevator, she took a few deep breaths to clear her head and wiped her eyes with her tattered tissue.
Pushing open the hospital room door, she slipped in. Rusty lay on the bed, his pale face blending into the pillow. His eyes were closed.
She crept up and took the chair behind him. The scrape of the legs on the floor made his eyelids fly open.
"I'm sorry," she said quickly, grasping his hand.
His tense fingers wrapped around hers and her smile trembled.
"'s 'kay," he mumbled.
She poured him a cup of water and he drank thirstily.
"Really dry," he explained.
She examined the I.V. nervously. "They're hydrating you."
He handed the cup back. "Thanks," he said, his voice sounding clear and strong again.
Blinking his eyes, Rusty stared at the bloodstains on her blouse. "Are you hurt?"
Confused, Sharon looked down. "Oh--No. Some of it's from you." Her smile became stiff.
"Who's the rest of it?" he asked.
"His name was Howard Slovens. Did you know that?"
"No. He didn't introduce himself, except as the master or some bullshit." Rusty leaned back into the pillows and focused on the ceiling. "Better take my statement. I can feel the pain pills taking effect."
"Your statement?" She noticed his chin quivering. This was how he was going to maintain control.
Fumbling in the bedside table, she found a small notepad and a pen. "I'm ready," she said, "start at the beginning."
"The night of the dance. That guy who took my picture with Poppy--"
"Adam Fetter?" she said.
Rusty half-rose from the bed. "You found out about him in a day?"
"Yes, Rusty. We've all been working very hard to find you," Sharon said, her voice choking.
"Wow," he whispered. "Okay, yeah, he started bugging me on the phone. I thought I could go meet him and tell him to f-off."
She put down the pen. "Rusty, why didn't you come to me? Talk to me what was going on?"
His gaze shifted to the wall. "I...I didn't want you to think I was too much trouble."
She started to protest.
"And Nick said it was my job to take care of you. I didn't want to bring more problems around."
Pursing her mouth, she picked her pen back up. "But when you got to the alley, it wasn't Adam waiting."
"No, that other guy showed up. Howard?"
She nodded.
"He tazed me and there wasn't anything I could do. Who the hell was he?"
"Adam Fetter found him in a chat room and posed as you to lure him to the alley."
"What a--"
"Yes," agreed Sharon. "Don't worry. We'll take care of Adam."
"Will I have to testify in that case too?" asked Rusty, sounding hopeless.
"We'll see about that," she said. "His father's a prominent attorney. They've already gotten a deal out of the LAPD for our charges to be able to find you--"
"I bet that didn't make you happy." Rusty smiled for the first time since she had come into the room.
She sat up straighter. "I wanted to find you, safe and sound."
He nodded.
"But now he faces Federal charges for child pornography and murder for hire," she explained.
"The pictures." Rusty began to twist his sheets tightly in his fists.
"We'll see what Fritz Howard can do about those," she said, pain slicing through her heart at his obvious distress.
Then the knife turned to jealousy when he glanced up. "Fritz? Did Brenda help too?"
"No. I didn't hear from her," Sharon said jerkily.
"Oh." Rusty processed what she'd said so far. "But you were able to trace this Howard guy."
"Yes." She put aside her pen again. "Rusty, did he abuse you? I mean, beyond the injuries we see?"
"You mean sex?" Rusty asked
"Yes." She held her breath.
"No, I figured out pretty quick that wasn't his thing. I'd met guys like him before. They get a hustler because we can be bought for a couple hours. But they don't want sex. They'll call you a fag and a cocksucker, really put the hate on. They just want to nearly kill you."
Sharon's hand flew to her mouth to keep from crying out.
"Yeah, just like that. Choke you, hand over the mouth, or around the neck. Their thrill is going right to the edge. Sometimes, yeah, that would turn them on, but it wasn't me. It was the part where my face turned purple." His affect was flat and emotionless, as though he was telling her about his history class lecture.
Grabbing his chilled hand, she brought it to her lips. "No one will ever hurt you again, Rusty," she promised.
"Did you kill him for me, Sharon?" he asked.
She didn't like his tone at all. They were on that cliff above the Hollywood Bowl again, and she had to keep him from tumbling off into the dark night.
"No, Rusty, I didn't. He killed himself because he was a coward. A coward who'd abduct a child and tie him up. Who'd want to kill another person to feel strong.:"
"Okay," Rusty said blankly. His fingers slipped from hers.
There was a knock at the door. "Yes," called out Sharon.
Nick poked his head in. "Good time?"
She looked at Rusty. He wagged his head in an unenthusiastic welcome.
"Come on in," she said.
Nick offered her a small duffle bag.
"How ya doin', kid?" he asked Rusty as she looked through it and put the young man's clothes in a drawer.
"Fine," said Rusty, then peered closely at Nick. "You look sorta beat up too."
Nick shrugged. "The nurse said you could shower in the bathroom if you want," he told Sharon.
The idea sounded utterly fantastic. "Will you be all right?" she asked Rusty.
"I'll keep him company," protested Nick.
She kept looking at Rusty. He managed another rare smile. "I'll be fine," he assured her.
In the bathroom, she turned the shower to boiling hot and stripped her caked, dusty makeup and her soiled clothes off before pinning up her hair. Under the water, she could finally let tears fall, knowing they could not be seen or heard.
"Knife wounds are a bitch," Nick said conversationally to Rusty.
"It itches."
Rusty watched Nick shift uncomfortably in his seat. Understanding dawned. "Oh Jeez, you managed to get yourself into the rescue too? Gonna show Sharon what a great guy you are?"
"I did not," corrected Nick. "I was sitting in my car, just like she told me to."
"Why were you even there?" grumbled Rusty. "You stick your nose in shit like no one I've ever met."
"I thought she might need some support. They didn't know if you'd still be alive when she went through that door."
Rusty rolled his eyes. "So your shoulder was gonna be there to cry on."
"It didn't work out that way." Nick rolled his neck, wincing.
"You didn't stay in the car," Rusty pointed out maliciously.
"I saw a mailman! Thought it might be the perp!"
Rusty' s trap had been sprung. "So you were trying to be a hero?"
Nick hunched his shoulders. "Bastard beat the shit out of me."
Rusty wanted to laugh at the older man, but for some reason he heard himself giving Nick a ready excuse. "That bastard was pissed off that he missed out on killing me. He needed to kill someone."
"Lucky for all of us, he offed himself instead," said Nick with satisfaction. "Wouldn't have been good for Sharon at all if her bullet had done the job."
"She shot at him?" Rusty asked. "She didn't tell me that."
"Don't tell her that I told you," Nick fussed, glancing at the bathroom door. The water had stopped running.
Rusty crossed his arms. "I'm not going to keep any secrets from her again," he said smugly.
Nick's dark gaze bored into him. "For today."
Before Rusty could give his retort, there was another knock on the door. It was Doctor Yan. As Sharon came out refreshed, he examined Rusty's sutures and checked his temperature.
"It's a little high, and the wound area's inflamed," he reported. "I'd like to keep Rusty overnight for sure."
"I want to get out of here," Rusty said, suddenly desperate and urgent.
"I'll stay," Sharon announced, sitting back down.
Nick turned to the doctor.
"I don't think that's a good idea--" said Yan. "I'd like to see you both have some rest."
Rusty met Nick's gaze over his doctor's shoulder. "Yeah, Sharon. You need to go home and sleep in your bed."
"I--" The exhaustion was obvious in her voice, but she fought on. "I don't want to leave you here."
"Listen, I'll go get some dinner for you guys. No hospital food. After that, Rusty will be out all night on pain meds, right?" Nick said to the doctor.
"Pretty much," said Yan.
Sharon reluctantly agreed and began to confer with the doctor about Rusty's after care. Nick took the chance to lean over and murmur to the young man, "Good job, kid."
*
Nick was cleaning up the dinner containers when Doctor Baker arrived. Rusty stiffened in his bed at the sight of his therapist. Sharon watched his reaction, her mouth pursing in thought.
"Kinda busy right now, Doctor," Rusty said, waving his hand around the room.
Nick introduced himself.
"Ah," Baker said at hearing he was Sharon's husband, making Nick's brow furrow.
Sharon stood. Her voice rang out, getting all of the men's attention. "Nick, why don't you go get the car and I'll come down front."
Nick opened his mouth, then closed it. "Sure."
"Doctor, if you could give us a few minutes, I'm going to chat with Rusty," she said crisply.
Now Rusty looked worried at the doctor leaving the room, but he was stuck in the hospital bed.
Sharon sat back down beside him and smiled. He found no reassurance in that expression, or when she said, "I need to apologize to you, Rusty."
"Nothin' you have to be sorry about," he babbled. He sensed where this was going.
She went on relentlessly. "I've failed you, Rusty. When you first moved in and I mentioned that you should see a therapist, I should have put my foot down. But I'd had a bad experience with a psychologist and my son..." She took a deep breath. "And I let that blind me to the obvious."
"But I don't wanna--"
"How this working out for you, Rusty?" she said sharply. "When confronted with Adam, you decided to deal with him like you were still on the streets. Seems like you're stuck in a destructive cycle."
Rusty sank into the bed and crossed his arms, his lower lip protruding sulkily.
She stood again. "You'll speak to Doctor Baker this evening and I'll get a referral from him for a regular therapist."
Rusty started to protest.
She leaned over and kissed his cheek. "I love you," she whispered in his ear.
His mouth fell open comically with shock. She used this as cover for her escape. He fumbled with something to say, he finally croaked, "Me too."
At the door, Sharon turned back. "Good. And goodnight, Rusty."
"Night," he said as she ushered Doctor Baker into the hospital room.
*
Right inside her front door, Sharon dropped her purse and the small duffle with her dirty clothes.
Nick shuffled in behind her, tossing down his car keys. He checked his watch. "Time for some more aspirin."
"Did the doctor give you anything stronger?" Sharon asked as she toed out of her running shoes.
"Nope. Just a mild concussion after all the tests. Head's still ringing like a bell," he complained. He headed for the bedroom and she followed him, keeping her eye rolling out of his sight.
She decided to humor him anyway. "Let me look," she said, sitting on the end of the bed and patting the mattress beside her.
Still grumbling, Nick said beside her. She parted the thick hair on the back of his head and found the bumps and contusions. "Oh my," she said, truly surprised. She pressed one.
"Ow," he complained pathetically.
"Good thing your skull's so thick," she noted. "Or there could have been some real damage here."
She expected him to make an equally smartass reply, but he only humped up his back like a turtle retreating into its shell. He twisted away on the bed.
Placing a hand on his shoulder, she held him close. "Oh, but your pride was hurt?" She was unsympathetic. "God, Nick, You can't be the hero this time. I'm the cop."
"It's not like that," he mumbled, focusing on his balled fists on his knees. "It's just...I have always been able to take care of myself in a fight. Even in 'Nam, I didn't ever think I was going to die.
But there was this moment, laying there on the sidewalk where I felt like that was it. I just wasn't strong enough to get that guy off me, and he had that gun on me--"
Her hand went from his shoulder to wrap around his neck and pull his heavy head to her. She buried her face in the crook of his neck. "No, Nick. No. I was there. I wasn't going to let him take you away from us."
She was suddenly back earlier in the day with all the terror and fury singing through her blood. Rusty's crumbled body caught in a flashlight's beam. A familiar sturdy figure pinned to the ground under a gun's aim. Her heartbeat thundering in her head, ticking off the seconds it took a bullet to leave the chamber and travel toward that man. Her grip tightened on Nick.
His body shook with tears and laughter. "I know how to pick 'em. You were there, Sharon Raydor. No one was going to kill me with you there." His arms slipped around her middle, bringing them closer together.
Tilting her head, she found his mouth. She took that first breath, drawing him into her as if they were both gasping for life again.
~End Chapter 14