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Kidnapped

Episode 20 written by Dianna
Original air date: March 1, 2002

Disclaimer: The characters in the following fan fiction do not belong to me. They belong to CBS and Viacom and other powers that be. I am only using them for the purpose ofwriting this story. No money is being made from this writing it is for entertainment purposes only. And now on with the show...

The car bounced along as Mark slowly made his way up the beach house driveway. He didn't want the car to jar too much since Steve was asleep in the back. Usually nothing bothered Steve but recently any movement caused him pain. Looking in the mirror he noticed that his son was still sleeping. Those pain killers that he took must be really strong, he thought as he parked the car by the front walk.

Getting out Mark opened the back door looking at his son's bruised and battered face. He still remembered the day that he first saw him in the hospital after being found. He was all bloody and his face was badly swollen. He still won't talk about what happened to him even though he does have nightmares about it. All Mark knew was that he was missing for two weeks then was found in a pile of trash by a bunch of kids.

He gently shook his son's shoulder. "Steve, we're home."

Steve moaned then opened his eyes which were still black and swollen. "Okay."

Very slowly Steve got out of the truck wincing as he moved his still very sore ribs. Mark helped his son to the door wishing he could take all of the pain away for him. Once inside he went to the stairs then turned to Steve.

"You feel like going down the stairs?"

"No, I just want to go to the guest room." With that Steve made his way to the room where he laid down wearily.

Mark went in to see that Steve was asleep where he had laid down. Sitting beside him he looked at his son not believing that he almost had lost him again. Jesse had told him that a few more hours Steve would of died from internal bleeding caused by a small puncture in his lung.

Taking a deep breath he looked at his son one more time before giving him a slight pat on the shoulder.
As Mark got up Steve moaned in his sleep as the jarring probably caused pain. Frustrated Mark went
outside and back to the car to get Steve's bag from the hospital. Once he had it Mark went to the laundry room to wash what could be washed.

Opening the bag his heart wrenched at the sight of Steve's bloody shirt and pants. Taking a long deep breath he threw away the clothes knowing too well he couldn't salvage them. Digging through Steve's bag he spotted something he didn't see in the hospital. Pulling it out he noticed it was a small notebook which appeared to have Steve's writing all over it. When did Steve start to put his thoughts down? Mark opened it up and read the first line: "If you are reading this then I have been killed." Mark almost teared up when he realized what he had in his hands.

Sometime during his capture Steve managed to get a notebook. Since then he had written down all of his thoughts and the events that happened. But did Mark want to read it? And what did this little notebook hold within its tiny walls? Flipping through it he saw his writing was very tiny leaving him to think he wanted to write everything down. After thinking about it a little bit more he opened it up and began to read the first page. "If you are reading this then I have been killed. I didn't know when my kidnappers were going to kill me or even if they were. For the longest time I didn't know what they were going to do with me.
One in particular which I had named Al gave me this notebook to write things down. Now you probably already can tell that I'm not really too good with writing. But right now I will do anything not to go insane. I will begin this notebook on how or I should say the day that I was kidnapped. I really don't remember much just that it was a beautiful day and my good friend Amanda and her boys had planned a picnic.

I do remember that I was on my way to the grocery store when a call came over my radio. After that things get a little blurry since the concussion I think caused my memory to go on the fritz. Bits and pieces come and go in my dreams but nothing makes sense. All I really do remember was waking up in a dingy room that I will soon call home with my head pounding. I do recall a dripping noise and a rat, which believe it or not kept me company. Even though my mind was really blurry I did try to train my thoughts on one thing survival. Something that was automatic from my Army days."

Closing the tiny notebook Mark wiped a tear that ran down his cheek. He never really knew that Steve could write but this just proves what a man can do if he knew he was going to die. Taking a deep breath Mark went into the kitchen where he noticed there was a message on the answering machine. He knew right away who it was and he also knew that any minute now he would come walking into the house wondering why he didn't pick up.

Going into the living room Mark sat in the chair then began to flip through the tiny notebook noticing that it had a lot more written it in then he had expected.

The notebook was a steno pad with just about fifty pages in it with wide spaces for writing. Steve had used every inch of the notebook including the back and cover. Wonder if he tried to write on anything else after this was all used up? Mark thought wondering if he should look through his bag one more time. After a few minutes of thinking he decided and as he got up Jesse came walking in.

He turned to Mark worried. "Why didn't you pick up the phone earlier?"

Mark went up to Jesse then looked passed him to Steve who was still sprawled out on the guest bed. "I was reading something." Jesse reaching for the notebook and Mark jerked it back.

"What's in the notebook?" Jesse said.

"It's Steve's writings. It appears that he was given this to keep himself busy while he was captured." He wiped away a stray tear as he thought about the first line. "He knew he was going to die Jesse."

Jesse reached out for the notebook once again. "Is it okay for me to read some?"

Mark didn't think it was right for Jesse to read it right now. "Not right now." Mark tried to smile. "Sorry about earlier Jesse."

He shrugged. "No problem." He placed his hands in his pants pockets. "How's he doing?"

"Still asleep. I'm hoping he's going to be okay."

Jesse looking towards the guest room. "Don't worry he'll get better. Do you want me to stay here for the night just in case something happens?"

Mark nodded. "Yeah, just in case." He looked down at the notebook. "I'm going out to the deck to read some more of this. If you need me just holler."

The night air was chilled by the wind coming off the ocean so with a cup of coffee and a blanket, Mark sat down in the chaise lounge and began to read where he left off. "Training my thoughts on survival did help some but it couldn't take away that constant fear of what was to happen. I don't know how long I sat there for but I know that Al had come in to check on me.

Course back then I didn't call him Al. Instead I saw Al as an enemy a person who I shouldn't trust. When he came near me I flinched back not knowing what he was going to do. But he surprised me when he gave me some pain killers and a light meal. I didn't know if they were actually pain killers but he gave me his word that nothing would happen to me. I'm usually really good at judging people by they're voices and his sounded like one I can definitely trust. I will soon be very thankful for Al later on.

So I ate my meal like it was going to be my last then I took the pain killers which really did help out with the constant hammering in my head. Sitting there I began to take things in noticing one thing that I didn't notice before. I was barefoot which would soon cause me problems later on down the road. But for that moment I just rubbed my feet hoping the warmth would soon return to them.

With no watch I couldn't keep track of time. I did try to spot a routine in Al but he would come in once or twice to give me a light meal of bread, celery, and water. I did try to get a restroom break but another man who was a lot more fierce told me to go in the coffee can in the room. But after I'm guessing three days I decided to try again for a bathroom break. I was very surprised when they gave me one. But I would soon regret that I did.

In order for them to give me my decent bathroom break they blindfolded me then lead me down some kind of hall. Once inside the room I did check for any way out but couldn't find any. Since I knew I was going to die anyway my Army instinct kicked in and I thought I might as well go out with a fight. So I stepped outside and instantly got a gun stuck in the gut. I was badly beaten by the fierce man and another kidnapper. When they were done with me they threw me back into the room. I didn't see Al for along time after that."

Mark pulled his attention away when he heard heavy footsteps behind him. He knew by the slow steps that he had to be Steve. Sure enough when he turned around he saw Steve gradually making his way towards him. A smile went across his face when he saw his son. His hair was sticking up on one side and his shirt was half tucked in. He scratched his head then gradually sat down next to his father.

"What are you doing out here?" He said his voice very quiet.

"I needed some fresh air." He played with the notebook then looked at his son.

"I found this with your stuff."

Steve shook his head. "Don't read that. I don't want you to read that." He reached for the notebook but stopped. "If you read it Dad I warn you it gets pretty bad."

"I've already read the first couple of pages and..." he tried his best not to get upset. "I got to the part
where you were beaten." His voice cracked when he looked at Steve's face.

"That was three days into my capture. There are at least nine more days and they are really bad." His voice was straining a sure sign he was in pain. "Dad, I meant to throw away the book."
Mark sighed heavily. "You should be getting bed rest. Remember what Jesse told you to get plenty of rest and don't move around very much." Did I hear my name being mentioned? Looking surprising over at Steve wondering why he was out of bed. "Yes, Steve remember what your doctor told you." Jesse smirks back at him and then notices that Steve was grabbing his chest. "Is your ribs bothering you again?" He shook his head wincing as he did.

"Your ribs are bothering you and that usually means your lung is too. Get back to bed."

He nodded his head. "All right." He gave a long look at the notebook then stood up. "I warned you though Dad be careful when you're reading that."

Mark looked at Steve. "Do you need help?"

"No, I'll be fine." Steve gave his father a light smile then went back inside.

Once Steve was back inside Jesse sat down next to Mark looking at the ocean. He sighed heavily then turned to Mark expressing his worry on his face.

"Steve is acting really weird."

"I think it's because of this notebook. He doesn't want me to read it and yet it seems like he does." He shook his head. "It makes no sense but I guess he wants us to read his story."

Jesse took a deep breath then took out a couple of small sheets of paper from his pocket. "This is also from his stuff." Mark gasped at the small drawings that Steve had drawn. He never knew Steve to be an artist but these sketches made out of fear and loneliness told him otherwise. In the two weeks that Steve was held hostage he drew some disturbing pictures of a man hitting another. There was one drawing in particular that was lighter in content. It showed a tall, muscular man who wore a ski mask and who appeared to be protecting another man. In small letters the drawing was labeled 'Al'. "This 'Al' person seemed like he was constantly protecting Steve." Mark said folding the papers and placing them in the small notebook. "I wonder how he got the paper to draw."

"Are there any missing from the notebook?"

"No. I want him to talk Jesse but he's not going to."

Jesse put his hand on his shoulder. "He will sooner or later. We got this notebook though and I've been thinking and it will be really good evidence." He took the notebook from Mark and flipped through it and stopped at a page near the end. "There's blood on this."

Mark took the notebook back and shook his head almost to tears. "I didn't see that. I wonder what had happened for him to bleed that much." Steve's bruised face flashed in his mind and he quickly remembered he had to have ten stitches by his hairline. "He was hit pretty hard Jesse. Remember he had to have stitches."

Jesse nodded. "You're right." He took a long deep breath. "I remember the first time we got the call from the kidnappers." He laced his hands then bowed his head. "They said they wanted twenty million for the safe return for Steve."

Mark tired and weary. "Then we got the photos the next day along with a note." He wiped away a stray tear. "Then they just gave us one more threat and that was it, we didn't hear anything till a few days ago when Steve was found."

"Maybe he'll open up more and tell us himself what happened." Jesse turned to the front door shaking his head. "Hopefully things will get better."

That night Mark sat at the dining room table sipping his third cup of coffee. Since Steve's kidnapping he hardly got any sleep but tonight was really bad. He had gone into the guest room where Steve was sleeping on the bed. He had changed into some sweats and a T-shirt but was still too weak to go downstairs to his room. Mark started to make up the chair that was in the room. He didn't want to leave Steve alone. Steve saw this out of the corner of his eye. Shaking his head saying he wanted to be alone.
"Are you sure?" Mark looks sadly at his son. "Yes Dad, I am."

Leaving the room Mark goes back to the dining room. Sipping the coffee Mark opened the little notebook hoping this might pass the time more quickly. "When I finally saw Al he had bandages and more pain killers for me. He cleaned my wounds and gave me food telling me the whole time that I shouldn't try an escape attempt again. On this visit is when he handed me the notebook and some sheets of paper. He simply told me that it was to keep my mind busy. But my drawings were of hatred and my writings well I'm not too sure about them.

Being in the room by myself with nothing to do my mind started playing tricks with me even if I liked it or not. I thought I could be strong about this whole thing but I would catch myself thinking about the horrible things that they could do to me. I believe my thoughts began to stray when they took pictures of me.

That was when I knew that I was here for money and will die either way. Thinking about dying made me think about a lot of things I could of done differently in my life. One of the many things I thought about was how I could have gotten married and given my father the grandson or granddaughter that he wanted so much. My father means so much to me in my life. I hope that he knows how much I love him. And how much I try to make him proud of me."

Mark had to stop reading when his tears made things so blurry he couldn't read. The words that he knew Steve wanted to tell him personally and couldn't express he finally expressed in his writings. Wiping his face he now tried to calm himself down so he wouldn't wake up Jesse or Steve. But it didn't work he could hear Jesse's weary steps make their way into the dining room.

"What's the matter?" His voice was tired and raspy.

"Something Steve said in this. Did I wake you?"

Jesse shook his head. "Nah, I couldn't sleep. I've just been laying on the couch thinking." He went into the kitchen and got himself a cup of coffee. "You know Steve has been through a lot but this just doesn't seem like him." He sat down and stared at the mug in his hands. "I know he just was found a few days ago but I just can't seem to shake this feeling."

He stared at the black liquid in his cup then looked at Jesse. "Like you said things will get better." He tried to smile. "He just came home from the hospital. Tomorrow you'll see Steve will be differently."

In the morning Mark stood at the stove cooking breakfast when he heard Steve talking to Jesse. Just by the sound of his voice Mark could tell that he was feeling much better. Smiling he took the bacon out of the skillet and placed the eggs on the counter just as Steve came ambling into the kitchen. He looked exhausted but a smile appeared on his bruised face.

"Morning." His voice was gruff from sleep. "When did you wake up?"

"Oh, about an hour ago." Lied Mark. "Did you just get up?"

Steve nodded. "Yeah." He grabbed the plate of bacon and started to carry it to the dining room. "Let me help you with breakfast."

Quickly Mark went up to him and got the plate. "You sit down and I'll bring the food to you. You shouldn't be moving around this early after coming home."

Steve laughed but quickly grabbed his side as he began to cough. "I'm fine."

"You're fine yeah right." Mark shook his head at him and brought the carafe of orange juice to the table. "Now eat well, your body needs it."

After breakfast Mark made sure Steve took his pain killers then sat on the couch with him while Jesse volunteered to do dishes. Mark hoped that Steve would open up with him. Steve tried to lay his arm stretched out along the back of the couch but grimaced with pain.

Mark looked at his face. "Don't worry things will get better."

He nodded his head. "I know." He turned his head away from him and stared at the window. "How are you feeling about this whole thing?"

Surprised at the question Mark just shrugged. "I'm doing really good."

"You're lying."

"Why do you say that?" Mark said a little annoyed.

He gently lifted his finger and traced under his eyes. "You didn't get any sleep."

"Okay, you've caught me. It's just been a really hard couple of weeks."

Steve yawned. "You're right it has and I'm sorry."

Gradually he got up. Then he looked at his father like he was thinking of what to say next. Finally after a few seconds he smiled. "I'm going to take a nap."

When Steve was in the guest room Mark went to the table and got the little book out of the drawer. He then went back to the couch hoping he will soon find out what really happened. "Then there is my dear friend Jesse Travis who is like a brother to me. He came into my life when I really needed somebody to finally shape me up. He may not think it but he might be the one who actually might have saved my life. I know as a Police Officer I take risks everyday but sometimes I went beyond that. In a way Jesse calmed me down telling me a few times that I shouldn't do certain things. I wish I could have told him thank you and that I loved him like a brother. I wish I told him that I respected him as a doctor and he was the only person who I could really trust with my life besides my father.
And there is Amanda. Sweet, Sweet Amanda. She is like a sister to me. Between her and Carol. Carol, what can I say there. She is so beautiful and reminds me so much of Mom. Between those two. It's a big surprise that I'm not married. I only wished that I could tell both of them how much I dearly love them." Steve suddenly stopped. Switching quickly to another topic.

"The fierce man who I came to call 'Ted' came in last night and told me the news that I was dreading to hear. He told me he was going to kill me if my friends didn't pay the ransom. I wish they wouldn't because I know in the end that I'm dead anyway. I don't want them to get their hopes up for nothing. I told him that they will never pay and he kicked me hard in the ribs. I don't know when I passed out but when I woke up I hurt so bad I couldn't move let alone breathe. I don't even know how I got the energy to write or even draw. I know from the constant mind numbing pain in my right side my ribs are broken. But what I'm really worried about is my breathing. It's getting much harder for me to breathe or to catch my breath which causes me to cough. When I cough Ted would come in and slap or punch me telling me to be quiet. Al never did come to check on me causing me to think the worse. If there was no Al then I surely will die."

Mark closed the notebook then checked his watch realizing that Steve had a doctor's appointment in two hours. He'll let Steve sleep for another hour then wake him up. He knows that he's going to fuss about the appointment but it was a vital one. Steve will have a ultrasound taken for his lungs to see how well they're are healing. Normally patients like Steve would still be in the hospital but because Steve was stubborn and because I'm a doctor he thinks he doesn't have to be in the hospital. So now he will just have to make regular trips back to the hospital for check ups.

Mark looked up just as Jesse came walking in wiping his hands. "How is the book getting?"

"Interesting." Mark put the book down then took a deep breath. "Steve has an appointment later this afternoon. I'm starting to worry if everything is okay or not."

Jesse breathed in deeply. "I know Mark, and the test that I have set up for him will tell us what's going on with him. I did just check up on him now and his breathing doesn't sound too good." He turned to Mark shaking his head. "I just wonder what makes men do this to other men."

"The reason this time was for money." He got up then went to the guest bedroom where Steve was sleeping with a light wheeze. "He shouldn't have come home yet Jesse."

"I know but you try telling that to him. The minute he was awake and able to talk he wanted out."
Mark nodded. "I know and I don't really blame him for wanting to go home especially with what happened to him." Steve stirred in his sleep and tried to roll over but grimaced. "I feel so helpless. Sometimes I wish I could just take away the pain for him."

Steve slowly opened his eyes. "I can hear you guys." He said with a smile. "I thought you were asleep son." Mark went over to Steve and looked down at him "What's the matter?" He gradually rolled over onto his back relief quickly spreading over his face. "I should realize by now that it's better to sleep on my back." He looked up at his father with his swollen eyes. "When is my appointment today?" "Two o'clock. You can sleep till then if you want to." Steve yawned then slowly nodded his head. "I'm tired but..." He sighed heavily making him cough. "I'll be fine." Mark sighed heavily. "You've been wheezing." "I'll be fine."

"Son, you know Jesse wanted you to have that chest tube in for at least another two or three days. I'm starting to worry Steve about your lung. It could almost have fluid in it again." Mark tried his best to keep his demeanor. "I'm afraid about what the ultrasound will show." Slowly Steve got up grabbing his side as he did. "I'll be fine. To show you, you can come in when I get the ultrasound taken."

"Thank you Steve that will make me feel better." Mark smiled. "That will make me feel a lot better."
Later at the hospital Mark sat besides Steve as Jesse, started to spread some jelly like stuff on Steve's right side. He should know what the jelly was called but right now his mind was mainly on what the ultrasound will show. He looked at Steve's side his heart ripping apart when he saw the deep bruises and the many stitches that still ran across Steve's chest.

Jesse began to slowly run the mic over Steve's side. "Steve, buddy this isn't looking too good." He pointed to the sonogram. "See this here..." He pointed to a dark spot on Steve's side. "This is liquid and it's starting to engulf your lung." He took a deep breath. "I would like for you to come back to the hospital so we can put a chest tube back in. While the tube is in I prefer you stay here for three days."
Steve shook his head. "I would like to go home." He gave Jesse one of his looks. "Why did you give me an ultrasound instead of standard X-ray anyway?" "Because I knew that something like this would happen and we would have had to do this anyway so I skipped the X-ray. Listen Steve your lung has a risk of collapsing again and if it does it may not be the same again." Jesse turned to Mark. "Mark you know the risk he is taking. I'm afraid if he goes home it might actually kill him." Mark with the huge burden on his shoulders just shook his head. "Steve, please listen to Jesse. I'll stay if you want me to. If that makes you feel better." Steve shook his head. "I'm fine Dad." He slowly tried to sit up but that just made him wince in pain. "I'll be fine." Jesse shook his head in frustration. "Look at this sonogram Steve." He pointed to Steve's lung which had an irregular rhythm. "Just for a few days." "Fine, just for a few days." He turned to his father then back at Jesse. "When do you insert the chest tube?" "In about ten minutes. Mark would you like to step out for this? I'll come and get you when the tube is inserted." He turned to Steve then patted his head. "Even with the pain killers it will hurt really bad." Steve just nodded. "All right I'll get a team in here now."

In the waiting room Mark sat down in a plush chair hoping that everything will go all right. Next to him sat Amanda who anticipated the wait and tried to read a book that she brought with her. But Mark could tell by her demeanor that she had problems concentrating. She patted his leg. "It'll be okay." She said also lying to herself. "Steve, will be fine especially now when he gets that chest tube in." He slowly nodded his head. "I'm hoping. I knew that it was way too soon for him to leave the hospital. I just don't understand him sometimes. When he knows he needs medical attention he doesn't get it. If you're not too careful with him he will bleed to death before going to the hospital." "I know Mark I'm hoping that will change especially now after this has happened."

That night Mark sat next to Steve watching his face contort in pain each time he breathed. It hurt him so much to see him like this but he knew the pain will subside. He opened his eyes and smiled. "Hey, I guess you weren't lying about staying..." He winced from pain. "Don't worry Steve the pain killers should take effect anytime." "Good." He closed his eyes while trying to take a deep breath. He moaned as his hand reached for the tube. "This sucks."

He almost had to smile at Steve's little comment. This was the first time Mark has heard Steve say something so blunt it was almost funny. Looking up he did see Steve smiling at him probably realizing what he said. His smile grew wider. "You say weird things when your drugged," Steve smiled. Mark had to smile. "Yeah, you do." He tried to chuckle but moaned. "Don't make me laugh." He said with a smile.
"I won't." He patted his leg as he got up. "Now get some sleep you need it."

As he got up to go to his cot Mark quickly glanced at the bag hanging by Steve's feet almost getting disgusted at the blood in the bag. He knew that Steve had liquid in his chest cavity but he didn't know it was that much. He did have to have some minor surgery to repair a tear in his lung which was the cause for the bleeding. Poor Steve has over thirty stitches on his chest and inside on his lung and muscles.

Patting his foot he sat down on his cot and pulled out the book that he couldn't stop reading. It was Steve's small notebook that brought another side of the tough man out. He hasn't had time to read it all day and now wondered if he should or not. He leaned against the wall and opened it up where he had left off. "I don't really know now what is going to happen to me. For what seems like an eternity I sit here thinking about the many people who I may never see again. And I have to admit I cried for the first time since my Mother died. Many times in my life I wanted to just cry but I could never get it out. When I did cry it hurt my ribs and my face but I didn't care. Even with my Army training it was really hard to keep my mind on survival. I didn't know what awaited me the next minute or second.

Al finally came back last night or day whichever it is now. He told me he was on a business trip and told Ted to take care of me. Nonetheless Al was pretty upset when he saw how beaten up I was." Mark turned the page noticing he has gotten to the part where there was blood. "Ted came in here sometime during the night and hit me so hard that I know I have a serious concussion. I don't know how long I've been out but I know that I can barely write." Mark did notice that Steve's hand writing did get sloppier and sloppier as the book went on. Soon Mark could hardly read it and put it down. This book will definitely help out with the investigation.

Two Weeks Later

Steve slowly made his way to the kitchen still sore after the minor surgery two weeks ago on his lung. He knew for the rest of his life he will have a three inch scar on his right side. Just a reminder of the toughest week he had to endure.

Getting a glass of water he sat at the dining room table shaking his head at what his Dad and Jesse were doing. They had took apart his book page by page to find any clues about the kidnappers. Being captive like he was he gave his kidnappers nicknames so he could tell them apart. But by doing so he almost got close to one, dangerously close.

He can't forget the man that he came to call Al. Al was a lifesaver for Steve if there ever was one. When Steve thought he was going to die. Al was always there until the very end. Steve shivered when he began to remember the brutal beatings Ted gave him. It seemed that Ted would never stop with his relentless hitting.

Steve gently rubbed his side where for three days he had a tube draining all the liquids from his chest cavity. The pain he felt for those three days reminded him of his capture. He didn't know if he will ever get that feeling out that seemed to be embedded into his bones.

"Hey, Dad." He sipped the water not even looking at him.

Mark sat down next to him rubbing his arm as he did. "How you feeling?"

He looked at him. "Still a little sore. But I'll be fine."

Mark smiled. "That's good. Listen Cheryl thought she had a lead today but it was false." He took a deep breath. "Do you think we will ever find them?"

Steve shook his head. "They're good Dad. They're really good." He slowly got up as the phone rang.
"Hello?" He said when he picked up the phone but no one answered. "Hello?"

"Boo, I see you."

"Ted?" Steve's voice barely made a whisper.

The End


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