My Silent Partner

Chapter Six: Break Out

It wasn’t until several hours after Thomas had left the room that he actually left the hospital. Thomas hadn’t bothered or seen fit to pay the same visit to Tom Thumb; Peter was the one he wanted to irk.

Thomas snickered at himself for that thought, and the resounding nervous giggle in his head from Tommy made Eric roll his eyes irritably. Eric was impatient, if nothing else.

Whistling lightly, Thomas clasped his hands behind his back as he walked around the small, picturesque town that his two boys lived in. As he walked, he thought.

He wondered, for one, if the woman pretending to care was still trying to prove his innocence in the whole sordid mess somehow.

Thomas snorted; he could care less what the psychologist chose to think, or how she chose to go about her business. It was very little concern of his.

In any case, he’d as soon kill her as he’d kill his own mother.

XXXXXXXXX

The physical therapist, a tall, painfully skinny young woman named Abby, wrapped Perry’s hands around the metal piping of the walkway.

"How’s your leg doing?" she asked carefully. Dr. Cox had been one of her least favorite patients from the beginning; the man was often unpredictable in moods and snappish at best.

Abby blew a strand of light brown hair from her eyes. She wasn’t sure if she preferred him quiet or not though. The session was nearly over, and he hadn’t spoken a word.

Perry only shrugged at her now as it was and glared at the floor as he walked forward. It hurt like a bitch; he wouldn’t lie about that. And it didn’t help to have staff members he knew and hated with a passion walking by the PT room and through out.

Their stares were infuriating.

Still, Perry kept his mouth firmly closed as he walked to the end of the padded walkway, his shin screaming at him and his hand smarting something terrible. The therapy for his leg had been going far better.

With Thomas’s visitation still firmly in mind, Perry glanced over his shoulder as he reached the end of the walkway. He felt jumpy; something that was definitely on his list of the things he hated the most.

And Paige had been strangely absent now for two days.

Perry struggled to shake it off as he realized the skinny girl who had been his physical therapist for a month now was talking to him.

Perry shook his head and glanced at her as he turned and began to make his way back. Sweat trickled nervously down his neck, and he struggled to keep his hands still on the metal railing.

"You’re doing really well," Abby said with an anxious smile. "Maybe you can go home soon."

Abby nearly jumped at the derisively scathing snort that came from her patient. Worry made her want to shift, but she only stood still with a wheelchair at the end of the walkway.

Perry sat down hard, and resisted the urge to rub at his leg. That would only make the pain worse, he imagined, and it wouldn’t do anything to help. He gave a withering glance over his shoulder to the skinny therapist.

The mental side of it wasn’t her job, and it was very likely (in Perry’s opinion) that if he even did try to say something, he’d only have a new physical therapist in the morning.

The fact that Perry had the same physical therapist grounded him somehow. He crossed his arms over his chest as Abby pushed him down the hallway.

"Really," Abby went on encouragingly. "If you keep doing this well, we won’t have to bus you around so much in the wheelchair. And your hand’s been doing well too; it’s supporting weight and you’ve been getting back some more dexterity in your fingers. You’ll probably be able to go home in a week."

Abby sighed when she received the same disbelieving sound. She hated it when patients didn’t seem to believe their own discharge from the hospital, and this patient appeared to have that opinion.

With a sigh, Abby turned the older doctor into his room and helped him into bed. She parked the wheelchair in the corner, and headed back to the physical therapy room to do the work-up for the session.

Abby imagined if Dr. Cox had bothered to speak, he would have called her an idiot and told her he was never getting out. She sighed; something wasn’t clicking anymore for the man, at least not the way it had been for the past couple of weeks.

Abby tapped her pen against her desk and finally shrugged. It wasn’t her job to worry, and it was only going to give her more grief. She was certain he had family and friends (at least a couple, if the rumors were true) to worry about that sort of thing for him.

Sounding good enough in her head, Abby continued to write.

XXXXXXXX

Dr. Taylor wrote quietly in her office with the exacted, harsh strains of a Beethoven concerto playing softly behind her. It grounded her as she alternated between jotting down notes and reading from the DSM-IV on her desk.

It wasn’t uncommon for a patient presenting with Dissociative Identity Disorder to present with other symptoms or disorders, though they were more commonly attributed to the different psyches and personalities of the patient’s created archetypes.

Dr. Taylor sighed and pulled her glasses off sloppily. Everything she did was for a reason, and this was hardly different. The certainty in her mind had not faded that Thomas was hardly the terrorist in this situation. She had seen enough mentally unstable patients in her time to know that they were easily provoked.

The provocation, however, was avoided if one knew what they were doing.

Dr. Taylor rubbed the bridge of her nose. The whole situation would be much easier if Thomas Alexander hadn’t simply disappeared. It was difficult to diagnose a patient based on medical history alone, and while the level of abuse Thomas had encountered was treatable with therapy, it would take the right therapist.

Dr. Taylor surveyed the picture again. Thomas almost looked normal in the shot, though she was sure that was because of the anti-psychotic drugs. Between some of the anti-psychotic drugs and the neuroleptics that Thomas had been put on, it was surprising to see such a normal man.

Dr. Taylor shook herself from the photo. He had looked vaguely familiar for a moment, though Dr. Taylor was sure that he had ever been a patient of hers, she would remember him (if only because of his history).

A difficult morning with another patient made Dr. Taylor sigh and pull out a bottle of aspirin. Thomas’s disappearance was the only atypical action in his behavior.

Still, it wasn’t like Thomas was going to walk through the front door.

XXXXXXXX

Paige checked in on a napping Jack once more before she returned to the apartment living room to read. She had never pegged Perry for being much of a leisurely reader, so she figured many of the books she had found belonged to Jordan.

Jordan was currently visiting the neurologist (who had flown in from San Francisco) at Sacred Heart. Paige wasn’t sure what to make of Jordan’s prognosis, but the blonde doctor that stayed over much of the time had said that it wasn’t good.

Paige had spoken to Carla earlier that day, and the latina nurse had confirmed that Dan had moved from the bathtub to the couch. The beer can still hadn’t left his hand, however, and Carla hadn’t been able to report about the hospital.

Turk had been about as much help as Dan, however, and hadn’t had much to say other than a mumbled sympathy for Perry’s situation and a half-hearted inquiry over Jordan and Jack.

Paige snorted; Turk’s inquiry and concern had both had about as much warmth as Christmas in Canada.

A knock on the door made Paige jump from her thoughts. She glanced at her watch and frowned; the blonde doctor (Paige had trouble remembering her name) wasn’t supposed to take over Jack’s care for another two hours yet.

Paige stood and put down the tattered book. When she opened the door, she raised an amused eyebrow and her lips quirked into a smile.

"Out of the house, I see. How’s the light of day?"

Dan shrugged at her with bloodshot eyes and a pale face. "I’ve had worse." He shuffled slightly in discomfort. "I thought about what you said."

"Really." Paige finally took pity on him and stood to the side. "I would’ve thought there was just a bit too much alcohol in your system to hear properly, let alone think."

Dan walked in, still a bit unsteady on his feet. "You’re not making this easy."

"I was supposed to?"

"You know, that’s your problem. Coxer’s too. You can never accept thanks without throwing in a smart-ass remark about being right in the first place."

Paige rolled her eyes. "Being right all the time is a difficult job, but someone’s got to do it."

"That’s original." Dan finally turned and ran a hand through his mussed, spiky hair. "Look, I didn’t come here to argue with you."

Paige crossed her arms. "I’m listening."

"I’m here because I’m pretty sure I wasn’t making much sense the last time you came by."

Paige surveyed him quickly up and down before she shook her head. "Too easy."

Dan glared at her. "Okay, fine. I’ve deserved all that up until now, but lay off."

Paige shrugged her acknowledgement.

"The last day I saw Johnny, he was still being pretty quiet. I don’t know about anything else that’s happened since, but when I came out of the room, his psychologist asked me not to come back."

"She actually asked you not to come back?" Paige repeated with a frown.

Dan rolled his eyes exasperatedly. "Last time I checked, there wasn’t an echo in here. I got a little mad at Johnny, but I thought yelling at him might get him to talk."

Paige snorted.

"Come on; you brought Coxsmith’s kid in to get him to talk."

Paige only shrugged. "I brought Jack to see his father."

"You keep telling yourself that and let me know when you start to believe it." Dan scraped a hand over his face and swallowed. The hangover had caught up to him an hour ago, at which point he’d spent most of his time hanging over the toilet. "I’m not here to argue. I just…look, I think there’s something really wrong about that woman, and I don’t know what it is."

"Why don’t you take Johnny from her care?"

"I threatened that already," Dan mumbled and kicked the floor. "She said that I can’t because Johnny still has control of what he wants. She’s claiming that he’s stable enough to make his own decisions."

Paige tapped her elbow thoughtfully. "She thinks he’s stable enough then?"

"Yeah."

"You could try persuading your brother to switch care then," Paige replied.

"But I can’t go see him."

Paige sat down on the couch as she glanced at her watch and the wheels turned in her head. Her next thought wasn’t a far stretch to make, and she grinned unexpectedly at him.

Dan raised an eyebrow. "Something funny about that?"

"You can’t visit him." She smirked again. "But I can."

"But I thought she told you that you couldn’t see-" Dan stopped for a moment as the thought hit him and he nodded slowly as he caught on.

"She never said I couldn’t visit Johnny." Paige grinned. "And he is a "dear friend" of my brother, right?"

Dan snorted amusingly. "Right."

XXXXXXX

Jordan pushed herself up the ramp of the apartment building determinedly, and wished fervently that her mother would quit hovering.

"I can make it up myself," Jordan finally muttered to her and pulled her chair on to the plateau at the end of the ramp. "I’ll call you when the neurologist calls me."

Mrs. Sullivan only shook her head warily. "I don’t mind walking you up, dear. Really."

Jordan snorted. "Don’t you have something better to do with your time than worry over me?"

"Must you always be so difficult?"

"Must you always be so you?" Jordan replied mockingly as she pulled out her keys. "I’m fine. I’ll call you later."

Without waiting for a reply, Jordan shifted the keys around and opened the front door to the apartment building. She sat outside of the elevator as she waited, glancing down at the new carpet.

The color was ghastly, in her opinion, some sort of off-beige-eggshell-white color that made the foyer look like it was the entrance to an insane asylum.

Jordan snorted, and debated the fact that if the psycho, Perry, and DJ were back, it would be an insane asylum.

The thought brought the ghostly figures again, and she didn’t watch them this time. She’d seen it enough already, though the guilt still hadn’t left that she’d done nothing to help.

And gotten shot for her lack of trouble anyway.

Jordan sighed as the elevator gave a ding and slid open. She wheeled herself in and hit the up button, balancing her file in her lap. The door shut, but she wasn’t watching.

She was tired of the grinning face and the crazed eyes.

Jordan opened the apartment door and gave Dan a vaguely surprised look. "I don’t remember scheduling an escort."

Paige rolled her eyes. "We were just talking about…ducks," she finally finished, deciding the less people who knew about what they were trying to do, the better.

Dan glanced at Paige. "Ducks?"

"Yes. You were saying that ducks are happiest in their natural habitats without unnatural predators attacking them?" Paige rolled her eyes at Dan’s still confused look and elbowed him sharply.

"Ouch, what’d you…oh. Ducks. Yeah." Dan rubbed his side. "Jordan, nice to see you. How are you feeling?"

Jordan shrugged. "Like I’ve been sitting on my ass doing nothing for a month. You?"

Paige gave a sputtered laugh and Dan jabbed her back.

"I’ve been around," Dan finally replied after a minute. "How’s the kid?"

"I didn’t know you were going to be home so early; I thought your friend would be here first," Paige interrupted them and grabbed Dan’s hand with a forced smile. "I laid Jack down about an hour ago for a nap; he’ll probably be up soon. As soon as your friend gets here though, Dan and I have a date."

Dan grinned at her charmingly. "We do, do we? Can I get that in writing, sweetheart?"

"Maybe later, dear," Paige replied. She leaned into his ear. "I know you’re enjoying this just ever so much, but stop it!" she hissed.

Dan chuckled and patted her shoulder as he leaned away. "Later," he replied with a wiggle of his eyebrows. He turned back to Jordan. "She’s so impatient."

"You two are making me sick," Jordan muttered and wheeled past them to Jack’s room.

Paige waited for Jordan to get out of earshot before she slammed her foot into Dan’s instep. "I don’t want her to know what we’re trying to do!"

"She’s got a right to know, and that hurt."

"You big baby," Paige replied carelessly. "And the less people to know, the better. We don’t want everyone getting banned from their rooms, do we?" She glared at him. "And what the hell was all that sweetheart crap about?"

Dan chuckled. "You need to relax."

"Bite me."

Dan only raised his eyebrow again with the same disarming smile. "Can I at least get that in writing?"

Paige hit him again.

XXXXXXXXXX

They decided to wait until after six in the evening to return to the hospital, hoping that Dr. Taylor wasn’t one to pull long hours.

Paige jammed her gloves into the pocket of her jacket as she walked into the warm hospital. "Now what’d I tell you about talking to Perry?"

Dan gave her a sour frown. "When you said we had a date tonight, this wasn’t what I had in mind."

"Stop it already," Paige muttered as she jammed her thumb to the elevator button. "It’s grown-up time now."

"So when do I get a grown-up date?" Dan dodged her hand this time and finally nodded. "Not to yell at him, I guess. And don’t bait him. Just give him the facts that if the doctor woman doesn’t think he’s mentally stable enough to make his own decisions, than that power falls to either you or Jordan, who will switch the services."

Paige nodded approvingly. "Just…stick to the facts and try not to act like…you."

"Yeah? And what makes you think you’re any better equipped to deal with Johnny?"

"Because I know what I’m doing."

Dan snorted as they stepped off the elevator and took the conversation into the quiet, empty waiting room.

"Look, I’m not saying that I can deal with either of them right now, but…just keep the religion out of it, and don’t mention family as much as you can."

"What makes you think I was going to bring religion into it?"

"You’ve got a bible in your bag."

"So? I carry it around all the time."

"Just don’t." Dan shrugged. "He’ll turn off immediately. Same goes for family."

Paige nodded irritably finally. "Alright, I get it. Ready?"

"Yeah."

Paige turned and headed into the hallway, accidentally brushing alongside another man coming down the hallway.

"I’m sorry; I wasn’t looking where I was going," Paige said automatically as she raised her eyes to the man she had bumped. She frowned at the blue eyes set into a long, pale face.

The man only smiled back at her. "Not a problem." He continued down the hallway.

Paige frowned harder at the slightly-creepy smile and shrugged it off as she headed down the hallway.

"My stop," Paige finally said, angling her head to JD’s door. "Good luck with Perry."

Dan shrugged. "Thanks, Paige."

Paige relaxed for a moment as she glanced at the floor and then back to Dan. "No problem. If no one else is helping them right now, we’ve got to."

Dan nodded and started down the hallway again.

Paige carefully opened the door, remembering Perry’s inherent reactions to opening doors and sudden movements.

"Hey, Johnny," Paige said quietly as she shut the door behind her. The room was dark, but she could barely make out the padded restraints around JD’s wrists and ankles. "Did they restrain you again?"

JD jumped at both the door and the voice, raising his head to identify his visitor. He frowned in confusion when he recognized Paige. Pushing his elbows underneath him slightly, JD struggled to raise his body from the bed a bit more.

Paige pulled a chair up, but didn’t reach for him. "I don’t know how long I’ve got," she said quietly, trying to analyze JD’s face to figure out the question. "I’m here because your brother and I were talking about you and Perry."

JD shrugged his shoulders, his face lining into a frown.

"And the question came up of trying to switch the two of you from Dr. Taylor’s service because she’s an idiot." Paige glanced back at the doorway and then to JD. "It also came up that if she thinks you’re stable enough to make your decisions, you can switch off yourself. You have to talk though in order to do it. If she finds you mentally unfit, then Dan can make that decision for you. Either way, it’s not up to her."

JD looked at her for a moment and then hung his head. He felt his chin bump his chest, and then glanced back up to her with a decisive look on his face. The look faded off for a moment, and he sighed.

"Why are you telling me this and not Dr. Cox?" JD finally asked quietly.

Paige’s head snapped to JD’s face. "Dan’s in Perry’s room right now, telling him the same thing. Johnny, we’re worried; everyone’s worried. But no one thinks they can do anything, not since Carla got moved to a different floor. It’s up to you guys."

"Paige, I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but do you have any idea at all how tired I am of having to fight everyone?"

"But you can’t just give up either. It’s not just you this time; it’s you and my brother. You’ve got to try."

JD sighed and jerked uselessly at the restraints. He debated a minute before he spoke again. "Get me to see your brother; I’ll see what I can do."

"JD, I can’t do that. And using your mental state and Perry’s isn’t fair."

JD felt something horrible eating at his stomach, but spurred on. "You think it’s fair what happened to either of us at all?" he asked quietly, his chest shaking with ache. "You think it was fair for some guy to hold us in a dark room for a month? You think it’s fair what’s happening now?"

Paige grabbed his hand, ignoring the way it began to tremble in her own. "It’s not fair, Johnny. And that should be all the reason you need to do this. If you don’t do it for you, do it for Perry." She grasped his hand hard when he jerked at it. "It’s obvious that you care for him a lot. If you care about him as much as I think you do, please do this. He’ll do it if you do it."

JD felt tears prick at his face and he struggled to pull his hand from Paige’s. "Let go of me." His skin tingled and felt sore where her fingers touched his own.

Paige finally released it and glanced back to the door again. She looked at JD. "Will you do it?"

"I just want to see him," JD finally whispered hoarsely, struggling to clear his throat with a wet cough. "I don’t care about me; I just want him to get better."

"Then please do this."

Dan opened the door suddenly and poked his head in. "Paige, we gotta go. Now."

Paige tossed a nod to Dan and then looked back at JD. "We’ll come back. Think about it, for Perry’s sake." She stood and hurried out the door with Dan.

JD sighed brokenly and leaned his head back onto the pillow. He pulled at the restraints again uselessly as he raised his head once more.

With a dull thump, JD let his head fall back to the pillow once more and wished sleep would come.

XXXXXXXXX

Dr. Taylor felt like spitting nails, and debated upon going to the hardware store to buy some so she could. Someone had been in both Dr. Dorian’s and Dr. Cox’s rooms last night, whether she was able to catch them or not.

A nurse had seen a couple leaving the hospital around the time Dr. Taylor had found the empty rooms, and judging by the descriptions, it sounded an awful lot like the siblings.

Dr. Taylor stood outside with a cigarette now, wishing her nerves would calm so she could be objective. No doubt they’d tried telling Dr. Cox and Dr. Dorian that they could switch from her service, and if she said they couldn’t, than they would.

It was true enough, and not for the first time, Dr. Taylor wished Thomas Alexander could be there to corroborate her theory at least a little. That gave her the power to hold Dr. Cox longer, and if it proved the siblings wrong, than that also gave her control over what happened.

After all, Dr. Taylor couldn’t see Dr. Cox’s ex-wife having any concern over her ex-husband’s care.

"Hey, this is a hospital right?"

Dr. Taylor tossed the cigarette away and turned to the asker. "Yes, did you need something?"

The man standing in front of her had a baseball cap on, and the brim was lowered over his eyes. He wore a loose, too-big sweatshirt and battered jeans that flopped sloppily over dirty sneakers.

"I need to be watched," the man mumbled. His voice was shaking and forced, as if he struggled to push it out with every syllable.

Dr. Taylor neared him slowly. "Do you have any weapons on you?"

The man shook his head fearfully. "Just get me help," he finally snapped, and held his fists against his temples. "They won’t stop talking."

Dr. Taylor nodded again. "What’s your name?"

The man finally pulled off his baseball cap and raised wide blue eyes to her. "Thomas."

Dr. Taylor jumped slightly and backed away slowly. Seeing him in person was far different than a motionless photograph, and as she surveyed him now, the feeling came back once more that he looked somewhat familiar.

Brushing it off slightly, Dr. Taylor set about getting the man inside the hospital. The thought never crossed her mind that it was so very odd for him to show up at this hospital.

XXXXXXXXX

Thomas didn’t mind restraints much, especially when he knew it was only a way to get to what he wanted. He pulled at one irritably, but reminded himself steadfastly that they’d be taken off in twenty-four hours if he behaved.

It was worth it, for the pitiable looks that Dr. Taylor was giving him. He grinned at that thought, and glanced down at the restraints again. He hadn’t been in and out of restraints all of his life without knowing how to get them taken off if he so needed.

Thomas looked up at the ceiling of the room, and then to the window. They hadn’t given him any anti-psychotics yet (that he knew of), but he did recognize the sedated feeling from a depressant.

He hoped it was morphine.

Thomas glanced outside the window again, seeing the hint of sunlight coming over the trees in the small town. It was a pretty town, really, much like the one he and his brothers had grown up in back in Colorado.

It had been strange, being back in the cabin that his family owned there in the mountains.

Thomas leaned his head back; he wasn’t inclined to think about the bodies in the basement right now. They were no longer important and part of a life he no longer accepted anymore.

The door to his room opened then, and Dr. Taylor entered the room. "Hello, Thomas," she said in an even tone that was carefully neutral.

Before Thomas turned his face to her, his features shifted in a flash to that of a scared, terrified man. He turned his crumpled face to her, and let the tears prick at his eyes easily.

"Hi," he said quietly in a thick voice.

Dr. Taylor took a seat beside of the bed, but made sure to stay back. "Would you mind if I asked you a few questions?"

Thomas swallowed hard in a nervous fashion, but nodded quietly.

Dr. Taylor nodded and opened her file. "So you had it pretty rough as a kid, huh?"

Thomas shook his head. "I don’t want to talk about that; I can’t."

Dr. Taylor took a deep breath as she prepared to go further. "You were adopted?"

Thomas stopped shaking his head at that and peered at her. "How did you know that?"

Dr. Taylor frowned at the almost imperceptible change in his tone. "It says it right here." She closed the folder. "Do you know where you are?"

"I’m in a hospital; that’s good, isn’t it? Now I can’t hurt anyone and they can’t hurt me."

The tone of voice had shifted back, and Dr. Taylor wasn’t sure if she’d heard it at all to begin with.

"Can you talk about what happened at your old hospital?"

Thomas’s throat bobbled anxiously. "I was in a bed, I know. And some nurse…I hurt her. And I ran."

"You did. Do you remember what happened after that?"

Thomas shook his head. "A man hurt me sometime…but I don’t really remember what happened."

Dr. Taylor peered at the patient then in curiosity, and checked the age on the folder. Her eyes widened slightly, and she stood.

"I’ll be back later, Thomas."

Thomas nodded, and after she had left, frowned hard. He knew exactly who she was now, and that could either help him vastly or hinder him greatly. He lay back in the bed, thoughts trickling through his head as he reworked his plan around the psychologist.

It was an hour later when she came back in, and this time, her face was pale and she didn’t seem as easy-going as she had before.

Thomas looked at her, face shifting back to the victimized look of terror. "You’re back."

Dr. Taylor nodded and sat down. "Do you know who I am?"

"You’re the doctor who took me in."

Dr. Taylor shook her head and produced a birth certificate. "Thomas, do you know who I am?"

Thomas shook his head. "Should I?" he asked, but he knew anyway.

Dr. Taylor held the certificate in front of his face and pointed to the names of the parents. The father’s name was absent, but the mother’s name was printed clearly.

"I lost track of you when they threatened my license." Dr. Taylor whisked the certificate away. "I knew you couldn’t have done those things."

Thomas looked at her, and this time, the victimized look did fall off. "I was wondering when you’d figure it out. I’ve been looking for you for a long time."

Dr. Taylor glanced up at the change in tone. "What did you do?"

"I didn’t do anything," Thomas pointed out. "Those men said they knew where you were. They said they’d take me to you."

Dr. Taylor sighed and stood. "I’ll have to come back later. I have other patients to see." She looked at the man in the bed and brushed the hair from his face. "I’m happy I found you. Sit tight; we’ll take care of you."

Dr. Taylor brushed a strand of hair from her face as she walked quickly to her office. The prospect of theories and case studies were gone from her mind now, and proving the innocence had become doubly important now.

Thomas watched the woman leave again, and rolled his eyes irritably. Stupid sentimental sop she was, but it was looking like the scales had tipped in his favor by so much more than he’d hoped.

Thomas grinned at the door. "Later, Mom."

To Be Continued...