Chapter Text
The pain was intense. Raw, physical pain from memories buried deep inside. Memories that were shoving their way to the surface, making him feel like his heart was going to explode. The pain in his side didn't help, either.That effing bastard had it coming to him, God bless it!
Funny how things stick with you. Odd things, like snippets of memories from childhood. You never took the Lord's Name in vain. Ever. And when momma heard him use it when he was ten years old, and use it while trying to corral a young colt, she took it out on his hide. Couldn't sit down for twenty-four hours. Not that it made any difference- she didn't let him sit down. There was too much work to do to cleanse his soul. And that's when Hank told him his secret.
"The good Lord above loves to bless, Jonny-boy. I know it sounds funny at first, but if you change 'damn' to 'bless', you can still be as mad as nest of hornets and shout yerself hoarse with 'God bless it! God bless this stupid obnoxious animal to high heaven!"
He had giggled when Hank started yelling 'Godbless it!", and ended up leaning on the railing of the sheep pen, tears rolling down his face. It was so funny and absurd that it actually worked. It didn't mean momma didn't still give him a dirty look when he used it, but she never beat him for saying it, either.
The car horn snapped him out of his revere and he looked up in time to see the light glowing red against the night sky, and approaching way too fast. He slammed on the breaks, locking them and fishtailed to the right. He gripped the wheel hard and kept the truck under control and stopped with his front wheels over the top line of the crosswalk.
As he waited, another wave of pain and terror took hold of him and he accelerated the moment the light turned green, trying to escape the darkness of this night and the darkness inside him. He had been driving aimlessly for over an hour and yet somehow he knew where he was going. He knew the counselor would listen and that she had this mysterious way of making the pain go away.
-0-
KC Roberts was sitting in her living room laughing at her guest. Danny was always so serious at work, but get him outside of his office and watch out world, because crazy was on the loose! He had just finished reciting a scene from The Princess Bride, replete with voices and actions and KC wasn't sure she could take any more of his antics.
"Oh Danny, you should have been a comic, not a psychologist. You missed your calling for sure."
"Inconceivable," he waved his hand at her as a fresh wave of giggles took hold of her. "I like helping people figure out what makes them tick. And I love trying to get inside the minds of crazy people. Can't think of anything else I'd rather do."
As she stood up, KC grabbed the blue plastic dessert plates and cups off the coffee table and walked into the kitchen to throw them away. "Want some more coffee?"
"I'd love some, lady." The pounding on the front door startled both of them and KC dropped the cup she was holding.
"Who could that be? It's nearly eleven thirty."
Danny stood and met her at the door as she spoke into the crack. "Who is it?"
They could hear ragged breathing on the other side of the door and it was a moment before they heard the quietly desperate reply.
"Jon. KC please…"
As she opened the front door, Jon felt a tidal wave of emotion hit him causing his heart and chest to constrict tightly, making it nearly impossible to breathe. He pitched forward and KC was barely able to catch him before he collided into her. Danny was behind her instantly, supporting her while reaching around her to help guide Jon to the ground.
"Oh my God, Jon! Honey, it's okay. Jon look at me. Jon? Jon. Danny, go grab all my washcloths and-"
"I know the drill," he said as he got up to get what they needed.
KC held Jon's face in her hands, coaxing him to breathe more normally. He was trembling with the effort to control himself, and KC's heart ached for him. She could feel his fear as a tangible thing in the room. He was sweating and shaking and trying desperately not to cry, which drove KC insane. Her biggest pet peeve and her greatest counseling point was that tears are a person's greatest strength, not a weakness.
She gently brushed his hair off his forehead and said soothingly, "Jon, let it go. You're safe here. Nothing can harm you. I won't let it. Please Jon…"
He took a shuddering breath as she drew him into her arms and he felt the wave crash down upon him again in its relentless pursuit to destroy him. The tears came and he clutched at the petite brunette like a life preserver.
Jon's panic was overwhelming and KC called out to her partner for help. Danny was beside them in an instant, kneeling beside Jon and putting his left arm around his back and squeezing his right in between the officer and KC.
"Jon. Buddy, c'mon. It's all good, Jon."
Danny very carefully pulled Jon back toward him so KC wasn't crushed beneath the man's terror. The two of them knew they were in for a long night and prayed that their friend would finally face his demons.
"Jon, listen to me," KC cooed softly. "You're not going to drown. I won't let you, I promise. I will always keep your head above water, okay? Do you hear me, Jon? I won't let you drown."
Danny gave her a look that said, 'Where did that come from,' and she just shrugged.
KC slowly sat back on her knees, scrutinizing the distraught man before her while Danny offered his silent support. The past eight days had been horrific for all branches of law enforcement in Los Angeles with the kidnapping of LAPD officer Mike Daniels and his subsequent rescue. His fellow officers as well as friends in the CHP and LA County Sheriffs had received pictures of him tied up and beaten along with notes taunting officers and officials alike to find him 'before it was too late.'
Officers Baker, Poncherello, Nelson and McLeish had received the photos of their friend and three days later were a part of the mass rescue effort. The four CHP officers had gone into the warehouse and up to the second level as part of one of the diversionary teams, but had gotten ambushed by traps. Daniels was rescued by the SWAT team and all the rescue teams made it out in once piece, but the experience had rattled every officer and deputy to the core. The CHP gave their four officers involved a two week leave with pay and each one had sat with either Counselor KC or Dr. Danny daily for the past four days to try and cope with the horrifying ordeal.
But there was something they were holding back from that day, something all four of them shared but would not tell the doctor or the counselor. Try as they might, KC and Danny could not get to the root of it, but now things had changed.
KC could see that there was a war raging inside Jon and it was tearing him apart. She knew he was a vet from the war in 'Nam, and she wondered if it was those memories that he was suffering now. She placed her right hand on his chest and spoke his name so he would look at her.
"Jon…"
If the eyes are the window to someone's soul then Jon's crystal blue eyes were huge bay windows showing KC the vast vista of pain, agony and horror. She forced her own reactions into a tiny box and focused on being strong, detached and disconnected so she could fulfill her promise and help Officer Baker heal. She had to put their friendship aside and be his counselor first or he would be lost. She could feel the knot of emotion that had formed in his chest and knew what was coming. This was more than simple tears could purge, and she knew he could feel it coming, too.
"Get him up, Dan," she said in a quite yet urgent tone.
"Bathroom?"
She smiled grimly, knowing that she had to let Danny deal with this part of things. There were times when she really hated that she didn't have the word 'doctor' attached to her name, but then she always thought a moment later that her talents would be wasted if she was a 'doctor' of psychology. She was freer to do her own thing as a counselor, and Dan had always told her he wouldn't have it any other way.
"Don't… move me…"
It was the first thing Jon had said since KC opened the door and it startled Danny as much as her. She took his hand in hers and looked him in the eyes.
"Jon, listen to me. Your body is trying to cope with too many things at once, and it needs to release the pressure or you'll injure yourself. The best way of course is crying when you need to but you've blocked that route for too long and now there's too much emotion and pressure built up. You're going to get sick and I promise it's going to help."
Danny looked surprised. "Another Troi moment I guess?" He smiled when she pulled a face at him, but trusted his counselor. She wasn't a psychic by any means, but she had this uncanny ability to 'see' inside someone just like the empathic Counselor Troi from Star Trek: The Next Generation, hence the nickname. He envied her ability but never questioned her and trusted her completely.
"No, please…"
The fear in his voice melted some of her resolve and she tenderly cupped his face in her hand but it was quickly removed by a firm hand. "Counselor Roberts, please help me get Officer Baker up and moving to the bathroom before you have an unwanted mess on your carpet."
"Yes, Dr. Altman," she replied automatically as she helped pull Jon to his feet.
Dan draped Jon's arm around his shoulder and supported the slightly taller man's weight as he guided him to the bathroom.
"You go finish getting your stuff ready while I take care of-"
Jon suddenly stood upright and dashed for the bathroom, followed closely by Danny. The noises that followed told KC that she was right about the intense battle raging inside her friend and she felt comfort in that fact. She wasn't sure why she knew that she was right, but she'd learned to trust her instincts long ago, and they were rarely wrong.
Listening to someone getting sick isn't high on anyone's list of favorite things, but Dr. Altman took it in stride. It was his mission to help people heal from the inside out, which is why he'd started his career as a chiropractor. And as much as he liked the work, he always found himself counseling patients with other issues besides their health, and so he went back to school and became a psychologist, focusing on the civil services with a high interest in law enforcement. His approach was to treat them very much like soldiers who had fought in a war, and he had a high success rate in helping his patients cope with their issues.
He squatted just inside the bathroom door, softly speaking to the officer to reassure him of his presence. Like KC, his assessment of the officers involved in the rescue of Daniels was that something had gone horribly wrong and none were willing to talk about it. The men all recounted the events leading up to the rescue, but each one hesitated as they described the explosion and seemed to gloss over details. They were covering something up, he could feel it. And with a little bit of luck, he and KC just might start getting some much needed answers tonight.
Danny placed his hand on Jon's upper back as the retching subsided. He reached up onto the sink and grabbed the washcloth KC had brought in a few minutes prior and handed it to Jon who nodded his thanks and wiped his face. When he tried to sit back upright, Jon let out a hiss of pain and grabbed his right side.
The motion caused him to see stars and the blood pounding in his ears made it difficult to hear what Dr. Altman was saying to him, but he could feel a very gentle touch slide his hand away from his ribs. It wasn't hard to find the spot and the next thing Jon knew Danny was unbuttoning his shirt to have a closer look. The ugly bruise showed itself through the thin white undershirt and Dr. Altman gingerly lifted it to see the damage, letting out a low whistle.
"Somebody certainly made an impression on you," he said and turned his head toward the door and called out to KC to bring an ice pack.
Jon's breathing had slowed but was not quite normal yet, and when Dr. Altman pressed his side Jon started to hyperventilate again. He started to struggle against the doctor and Dan tried to calm him down.
"Jon, its Dr. Altman. Don't fight me, Jon. Let me look at your side. Officer Baker I need your cooperation."
Danny's voice got sterner and more commanding with each sentence, but Jon couldn't comply. Images of smoke and fire, men crawling away from the blast site, dead marines, injured officers and debris falling all around him filled his vision and panic took hold once more. He started to retch again and this time was more violent than the first. The waves came so hard and fast that he could barely breathe.
KC had just finished making her 'special drink for trying times' and had the ice pack in hand when she heard Danny try to calm Jon down and then the distinctive gagging sound of Jon getting sick, but this time it sounded worse. And then Dan shouted to her.
"Kace, I need you!"
She reached into the freezer for several wet washcloths and raced to the bathroom. She always found that the cold helped calm people down, sometimes startling them out of tears or anger with their icy coolness. She prayed the shock would be enough to help Jon.
Tossing a cloth to Danny as she entered the bathroom, she quickly positioned herself on the other side of Jon between the toilet and bathtub. Jon's arms were locked straight and he was gripping the rim of the commode so hard his hands were white. He was throwing up so violently that he couldn't catch his breath.
Danny placed the frozen cloth in the middle of Jon's back and pressed firmly while at the same time KC took her two and placed one on the side of his face and the other on the back of his neck.
There was a moment of extreme shock for Jon, and then he reacted to the icy points on his body with a reflexive gasp, breaking the convulsive cycle. He drew in great gulps of air and suddenly released his hold on the toilet. KC scooted forward to support him and spoke very softly as she constantly moved the cold cloths across Jon's face and upper chest as his body was wracked with deep, grieving sobs.
Images raced through his mind in confusing disarray- people from his past mixing with the present, no one where they should be. Memories he'd long buried surfacing violently. He started whispering, broken phrases or single words and Dr. Altman got up and made the hand motions of writing and KC nodded. He was back very quickly, sat on the floor and started writing. The counselor encouraged Jon to keep talking and would repeat things so Dan could write them down.
Jon stopped speaking after about three minutes and just allowed himself to be comforted. Dan looked at some of what he'd written down, trying to see any kind of pattern in the distraught man's words.
Murder. I killed them. Save Mitch. Bombs… bombs killing us all. I did what I had to, had to protect them. So much blood… oh God so much blood. Bruce is down… where is Ponch? So much smoke. I can't see. Kill the enemy to protect Mitch… Bruce… gotta stay alive. Can't hurt Steve…enemy soldiers coming! Ponch, Steve… I need…Oh God help me please!
KC looked up at Danny as she held Jon and rocked back and forth, and saw in his eyes the same pain she felt for their patient and friend. He held up the notepad and shrugged his shoulders and the counselor pouted. Nothing Jon said was making any sense, but they needed this information if they were going to help him.
She shifted her legs to a more comfortable position and bumped the ice pack, causing it to slide toward Dan. He picked it up and pointed to his side, mouthing 'ow,' and the pointed to Jon. With KC's help he carefully placed the ice pack on Jon's tender ribs and wrapped it with an ace bandage he'd found under the sink.
"There, that should help some," Dan said when they were finished. KC started to hum an old lullabye her grandma used to sing to her and the officer started to relax.
Jon could hear a soft, feminine voice humming in his ear and he tried to focus on it like a beacon of safety in storm ravaged waters. His mind grasped at the simple melodies as he tried to fight the losing battle for control. He was not even crying now, tears long since dried up, but still sobbing and moaning with the intensity of the pain.
Dr. Altman had never witnessed KC do this and he wasn't going to miss his chance. He started jotting down song titles on a separate page from his patient notes as he was able to pick them out, sometimes simply writing the name of the artist. He smiled at the eclectic mix of Barry Manilow, Styx, The Rolling Stones and various lullabies that she used to try and sooth their charge, and hoped to discuss them with her later. And by discuss he decidedly meant tease with love, of course.
The music was a soothing river for Jon to float on, but suddenly he was in the middle of class four rapids as one last cruel sortie attacked with abandon. KC jumped when Jon suddenly sat up and cried out.
"No, no!"
Every memory of every man lost in Jon's unit exploded into his consciousness. The demon memories were determined to win this war and bombarded him again and again with every horrifying image they could. And not just from the war either. Multi-vehicle accidents, dead motorists trapped in mangled pieces of twisted metal that had once been a car or van, children, innocent victims of the cruelty of life all converged in a final attempt to break his will.
The extremity-numbing buzz and tingling of hyperventilation took over as his body's last, desperate defense and he found there were still tears left after all. Jon could hear KC talking to him but she was simply a blur through the tears and nothing was making sense any longer. Words were just noise.
"I've got him, Kace." Danny said and as he pulled Jon toward him. "Go get that concoction of yours."
KC scrambled up and darted out of the bathroom. She came back two minutes later with three more frozen cloths and a small glass of warmed milk and placed it on the bathroom sink. Jon was leaning against the doctor, eyes closed and he appeared calmer.
"Are you okay Dan," she asked her friend as he slid his feet to the side so he was sitting on the floor and not on his legs. She knew his knee had to be killing him but he wouldn't give in, not in a crisis. Which this certainly was.
"Yeah," he said as the feeling slowly returned to his calves and feet. "His breathing is almost back to normal."
The counselor sighed, eyes full of grief for her friend.
KC put the chilled washcloth across Jon's forehead and spoke his name in a soft whisper. He stirred and his eyes fluttered open, trying to focus on his surroundings. Someone was holding- no, supporting him and that lovely soft voice was calling to him again. He picked his head up off Danny's shoulder and looked into the deeply concerned golden brown eyes of Counselor Roberts. He blinked once and was assaulted again by the raw, bitter emotions and memories of those who died, those he'd killed, and started to shake.
This time it was a strong male voice behind him telling him to breathe. He even felt the man's hand under his chin, holding his head up a little as if to keep it above water. I won't let you drown. She promised him before, and someone was helping him. Jon gulped the air and tried to keep the shaking under control, and this time it seemed to work. He felt KC take his hand and place a glass in it, though she still held on to his hand and the glass.
"Jon, I need you to drink this."
The warmth seeped into his hand and he shook his head. "No coffee..."
"Don't tell me no, hon, and it's not coffee. Take a sip, okay? Its milk and honey and some cinnamon… it's really good, look."
He focused his tear-worn eyes on her round face as she took the glass from him and drank. He could smell the spices- nutmeg and cinnamon and something slightly licorice like- and the scent was comforting. She put the glass in his hands again and took her own and wrapped them around his, guiding them to his lips. Jon took a tentative sip and discovered the sweet drink also had a bit of brandy in it and he started to drink it quickly.
KC and Danny smiled, knowing that that would be his reaction. The counselor coaxed the glass from Jon's hands and felt him relax just a little.
"Go easy Jon, we don't want you to get sick again."
"More. I'm so thirsty."
"In just a few minutes, Jon," Danny replied. "Give your body a chance to cope."
Jon could feel the warm liquid traveling down into his stomach, and it was the first good feeling he'd had in days. Somehow he had managed to barricade himself in a tower, surrounded by the enemy on all sides, but his allies were beside him now and for the moment he was safe. But he could feel the fiery arrows hitting the walls of his tower and knew that they would have to face the enemy again, and soon. But this time he knew he wouldn't be alone because they promised to be by his side, and he'd learned over the years that Roberts and Altman never broke a promise.
It was difficult to formulate a game plan without Jon knowing exactly what was going on, but with a series of gestures and looks KC managed to convey her intentions to Danny. He didn't seem too sure about it, but the line between professionalism and friendship had already been so blurred that they really had nothing left to lose. They sat in comfortable silence as the last few waves of emotion washed over Jon, his resistance utterly spent. It was nearly twelve forty-five in the morning and Jon was finally starting to fall asleep leaning against Danny as KC held his hand.
"Go now, before I change my mind," Danny said quietly.
KC stood up and ran her hand thru his hair. "Daniel Altman, you're the best. Is your place unlocked?"
"Do I ever lock my door when I come over here?"
They had decided that Jon would at her house and not Dan's because he needed to feel safe and he'd come to her, not him. She smiled at Danny and left to get a change of clothes for the two men from his apartment, three doors down from hers. The crisp November air was refreshing and helped KC clear her head. The events of the past hour plus had completely unnerved her but she stayed focused and strong because Jon needed her to be. Dan had been his calm, cool self which helped her stay strong, but as she approached his apartment KC's own emotions came to the surface.
She walked inside his place and sat down on the worn brown and beige couch, grabbing the matching throw pillow and hugged it to her chest.
"Merrrl-ow?"
"Oh Jazzie…" KC scooped up the tortoiseshell and cried into her fur. Jazzie took this human display in stride and simply purred. After a few minutes KC composed herself and put the cat beside her.
"Thank you for comforting me," she said as the cat rubbed her face on KC's arm. "And now, to find your daddy's clean clothes!"
Dan wasn't the tidiest housekeeper, but he had told her exactly where his workout clothes were and she grabbed two pairs of sweatpants and a couple of tee shirts from the 'clean clothes pile.' She went back into the front room and heard Jazzie calling to her from the kitchen.
"I can't believe it," she giggled and walked over to the fridge. "Your daddy wasn't kidding when he said you would want some cheese, was he?"
Jasmine's mewing went an octave higher, making the adult cat sound like a tiny kitten and she wove herself around KC's legs before pawing at the refrigerator door. KC just shook her head as she opened the fridge and found a slice of American cheese. She folded it in half and tore it into pieces. After closing the door she saw that Jasmine had gone over to her food bowl and was waiting patiently, green eyes watching her every move.
"Can't I just give you the cheese and be done with it?"
The cat just blinked at her, staring at her hand, and KC sighed. "Okay okay. So, are you a good girl?"
Jasmine meowed in response and was rewarded with a piece of cheese.
"Are you a pretty kitty? Do you like this game?"
The cat replied a bit louder and with slightly different vocalizations each time, and now her tail was flipping back and forth and she was picking up one paw at a time in anticipation of the rest of her treat. KC knew there was no way around her colleague's twisted sense of humor and she resigned herself to the last question.
"Okay kitty. I really hate your daddy for this, but are you a cheese-whore?"
It was the loudest meow KC had ever heard the cat make, and coupled with the begging position she was in, reaching up for the precious cheese, it had to be the funniest thing she'd seen in a long time. She dropped the rest of the cheese into Jasmine's food bowl with a giggle, grabbed the clothes and then headed back to her place.
A few minutes later, while Danny helped Jon change and put him to bed, KC went back over to his house to make a phone call. It would be easier this way and she could talk freely.
She took the rolodex card out of her pocket and dialed the number, praying to God that He gave her the right words to say.
"Hello? Jon? Is that you?"
Well, at least her guess was right. Now for the fun part.
"No, Frank. It's KC."
"KC?" She couldn't blame him for being confused and smiled. "Yes Frank. Counselor KC Roberts."
There was a three second pause on the other end before the officer responded.
"Where is Jon? Is he okay? Is he hurt?"
So they weren't necessarily together tonight. Shoot. New line of questioning.
"Why would he be hurt, Frank?"
"Damnit KC, don't play your effing psychological games with me! Where the hell is my partner?"
Okay, so maybe they were supposed to be together? KC heard another voice in the background trying to calm Frank down. She was fairly certain that it was either Nelson or McLeish, but Frank was now covering the receiver with his hand so the voice was muffled. When he came back to her again, he was a bit calmer, but she knew it was simply a front.
"I'm sorry, Counselor Roberts. It's just that we expected Jon a few hours ago and he hasn't showed up yet or called. And we're getting worried."
KC took a deep breath. Why did she suddenly feel so nervous? Because I become too personally involved. Friendship overrode professionalism. But right now she had to finish what Jon had started.
"He's safe. Jon came to my place about an hour or so ago and," she paused as she decided exactly how much to share. The four officers were protecting each other and whatever secret they shared had to be uncovered.
"And?"
She rolled her eyes at herself and plowed forward. "And he broke down Frank. He is emotionally shattered and I can't help him unless I know what's going on."
He couldn't hide the sharp intake of breath before he covered the phone again to speak to whoever else was with him. She strained to hear the muffled conversation and knew they were weighing their options. Whatever happened inside that warehouse last week was the key to Jon's breakdown, and KC just couldn't figure out why the others were hiding the truth.
"I'll come and get him," Frank said, startling her.
"No."
"What do you mean, 'No?' He's my partner and my friend and if he's in trouble then I should be there for him."
Bingo. Now she had something to work with.
"If you want to 'be there' for him, Frank, then you should quit trying to avoid the issue and talk to me. Whatever it is your hiding is going to see the light of day one way or another, and I would like to think that you trust your counseling staff enough to do the right thing for you. And who's with you right now? Is it McLeish or Nelson?"
"Both," he replied with irritation.
"Good. So the three of you better listen up. You need to decide what's in your best interest right now: Is it one, Feeling the pain of your deception grow daily as you keep your secrets, eating at you bit by bit so you will probably be spending another six months in therapy as you wallow in depression because somebody screwed up that day and you're all taking the blame? Or is it two, plunging into the frigid water and feeling the pain intensely for a short time then moving forward with the rest of your lives? The ball is in your court, Poncherello."
She hated being so harsh with them, but sometimes it was exactly what was needed. They could all trust her to be caring and loving; she was the gentle one, the person officers went to if they simply needed someone to listen, or get a hug from. She understood the need for touch and how it related to mental health and healing. So when she got tough, they always knew it was with good reason. Even if they didn't like it.
KC could hear Frank's heavy breathing on the other line, and was surprised to hear Bruce Nelson whisper to the others. It was very soft but he had obviously heard what she had said because his voice was as clear as if he had been holding the phone.
"We need to tell her…"
"I am not going to lose all that I've worked for," Frank hissed back.
"Jon's probably already told her." That was Steve McLeish, always the realist.
KC interrupted them. "Boys, listen to me. Jon can't tell past from present right now. One minute he thinks you're all dead in the warehouse explosion and the next he's screaming for the chopper pilot to go back and pick up the two buddies they had to leave behind. When I said he was emotionally shattered I wasn't being over-dramatic. I was stating fact. He spent a good ten minutes throwing up, Frank. Throwing up because it was the only way he could release the emotion and pain that has been building up for the past week. He was beyond tears."
She could visualize the three of them huddled together around the receiver and could feel their fear and concern through the phone and hoped that they would make the right decision for Jon's sake. KC watched the clock on the wall and waited a full thirty seconds for them to answer. Damnit, why are they so stubborn? Waiting them out was pointless, so she broke the stalemate.
"Whatever happened last week is at the center of all this. All you have to do is trust me and let me take care of everything else. If Jon is as important to you as you claim he is, then do him a favor and let him off the hook. Keeping your secret is killing him, and I'm not using that word lightly. I know he's protecting you, but right now he can't even protect himself. Please tell me what's going on."