by: Courtney
Chapter 5
Don't want to forgive me now,
You want to forget it,
But I know I'll be happy in your heart
In the warmth of a winter morning
The thorn and the kiss
The rose in the withered garden
Then true love lies like this
~ Wet Wet Wet, Don't Want To Forgive Me Now
"You okay?" Doug asks as he glances over at Carol in the seat beside him. They are in the car on their way to St. Phillips hospital for a follow up with Dr. Ryan Nichols.
"Should I be?" she asks.
Doug doesn't answer. She's right, it was a stupid question.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean . . ." she begins.
"No, hey, ask a stupid question . . ." he smiles over at her. She tries to smile back but without much success. He hates this. He hates to see her so upset. He wishes he could get his hands on that bastard that did this . . .
"Doug? Are *you* okay?" she asks.
He looks over at her with a strange expression. "Yeah, I . . ." he stops when he looks back and sees his hands. He's gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles are white. He relaxes his grip a little and turns back to the road in silence.
"It's okay," she says softly from beside him. She scoots closer to him in the seat and he snakes his arm around her waist to pull her close. She lays her head on his shoulder and snuggles close, hoping to alleviate some of her worries.
"You checked out fine," Ryan Nichols says as she finishes examining Carol.
"Fine?" Carol has a hint of disbelief in her voice. How could everything be fine?
"Yep, you're healing well. Those stitches in your lip can come out in a week and I'd say your eyes should be better within that time."
"What about . . . the, well . . . the test?" Carol asks. Ryan had done a pregnancy test when they came in.
"Negative," Ryan states. Relief washes over Carol and Doug and he squeezes her hand gently. "Of course, it's only been a week so you should still watch for signs. But, I'd say it looks pretty unlikely at this point.
"I'm glad of that," Carol states.
"Did you speak to the police yet?" Ryan asks as she goes back over the chart to be sure that she has covered everything.
"Yes, a few days ago," Doug says.
"Any news?"
"No, none yet. We're hopeful though." Carol looks at him and he smiles to reassure her.
"Well, I hope they get him soon," Ryan says. She looks at the two of them and smiles slightly. "Okay, everything looks fine. You can go on home and rest."
"Thanks Ryan," Doug says as they rise to leave. Carol tells her goodbye and she and Doug leave arm in arm.
Later that night Doug and Carol are sitting together at his kitchen table. He has made pasta for dinner. For the last five minutes, Carol has been pushing the food around on her plate and staring at it but she has yet to take a bite. "You don't like it?" Doug asks.
"What?" she looks up, not sure what she's been asked.
"The food. You don't like it. It's okay," he says.
"No, no, it's not the food . . . I'm just, I don't know, not very hungry. I'm sorry, I know you went to a lot of trouble to fix it." She looks back at the plate.
"That's alright, its just pasta," he assures her. "So, you want to talk about it?"
"About what?" she asks.
"Whatever it is that's on your mind," he says.
"Oh . . . I don't know. It's not really the time I guess."
"It's as good a time as any," he insists. He gets up and walks over to her chair. Taking her by the hand, he leads her over to the couch and they sit down together. "Now, what's bothering you?"
She looks at him, unsure how to start this conversation. She finally sighs deeply and lays her head back on the couch. "I'm so confused," she laments.
"About . . .?"
"About everything."
You need to be a little more specific," he says. She falls silent. Doug sits there, waiting for her to speak. Nothing happens. He decides she'll tell him when she's ready. He gets up to go clean off the table. As he rises, Carol says, "Why are you doing all of this?"
Doug sinks back into the couch. "All of what?" he asks in confusion.
"This. Being here, you, me, everything," she says. He's thoroughly confused by this. Finally, Carol asks, "Are you staying with me just because I was raped?"
He looks at her for a moment as she waits for his answer. "What kind of question is that?" he asks, still a little overwhelmed.
"An honest one. If I hadn't been raped, would you still be with me? Or did you really mean what you told me that night about thinking I didn't love you? Was that just anger or did you really think that? Do you think that now?"
"Carol, I . . . God, I can't believe this." He runs his hands roughly over his face. "I'm sorry," he says as he looks back at her. "That night, I was just . . . I don't know, I was just hurt. I knew in my heart that I was being ridiculous but I just . . . I really don't know. I don't know why I said that stuff. I'm really sorry."
"No, don't apologize. I deserved it. I just want to know for sure that you didn't really feel like that," she says.
"No, I didn't. I have always known you love me," he says sincerely.
She nods. Then, she looks back at him. "You didn't answer the other question."
"What's that?"
"Would you be with me right now if it hadn't been for the rape? Would you have taken me back into your life?"
"I . . ." he doesn't know what to say. The truth is they probably would have fought a little longer if it hadn't been for the rape. But, he still believes they'd have found their way back to each other. He couldn't stay away from her forever.
"I want to know the truth," she says softly.
"You want the truth? Okay, here's the truth. Maybe if I hadn't come over there that night and found you like that, maybe we wouldn't be back together yet. But, I know we would have eventually. And, you know what? Finding you like that made me realize something. It made me see how stupid I was being. It made me open my eyes and see how trivial our fight really was. It wasn't something huge like I had thought. It was just a spat, something to be easily gotten over. When I found you in that kind of shape on the bathroom floor and I realized what had happened to you . . . nothing seemed important except being with you."
"And now?" she asks.
"Now . . . now I see how close I could have come to losing you. Now I understand that life is tragic. Horrible things happen to wonderful people. I don't want to waste one more minute of my life with you in some stupid fight. I want to spend the rest of our lives together savoring what we have. You never know what will happen next."
Carol smiles at that answer. She couldn't have imagined words she wanted to hear more. She is finally convinced he isn't with her out of pity or a sense of duty and responsibility. He's with her for only one reason. He loves her. That's all she needs to know.
Carol is coming out of the bathroom just as the answering machine finishes playing the messages. It's been three weeks since the rape and her physical injuries are nothing more than a painful memory. It's Sunday afternoon. She and Doug are due back at the hospital in the morning for the first shift since their impromptu vacation. She can already hear the buzz of questions they're going to encounter. "Who called?" she asks absently.
"Detective Grayson," Doug says in a surprised tone.
"What did he have to say?" Carol asks pensively, almost afraid of the answer.
"He wants you to come back down there today. Sounds like they may have a lead," Doug says. He seems happy. Carol is less than thrilled however.
"What?" he asks. "I thought this would be good news."
"It is, I guess, but . . . what if they've caught him? What if I have to face him again?" she is on the verge of tears at the very thought.
"Then you will. You can do this Carol. I'm sure you can." He gets up and wraps his arms around her. She wishes she had as much faith in herself as he has in her.
"Dr. Ross, Ms. Hathaway, thank you for coming so quickly," Detective Grayson greets them. They nod to the detective and he ushers them into his office.
"So, what brings us here?" Doug asks.
"Well, we have some news I wanted to share with you two."
"Good news?" Doug asks. He is sitting in a chair in front of the desk with Carol right beside him. His arm is draped securely across her shoulders.
"I don't know if it's good now, but as soon as we catch this creep it'll be very good. We will be able to put him away forever with this."
"What is it?" Carol asks curiously.
"Well, it seems you aren't his only victim. You both work at Cook County so I'm sure you are aware of the rape victims who have been turning up. Elderly, live alone . . ."
"Yes," Doug breaks in. "Carol was even there when one of them was found."
"During my paramedic ride along," she confirms.
"Really? Hmm . . . Well, it seems that this guy is the same one who attacked you. We compared the samples and got a match."
Carol is shocked by this information. "Are you absolutely sure?" she asks.
"Yes, certain. Why?" he asks, wondering at her sudden strange behavior.
"It's just . . . well, I don't know . . . I feel like maybe . . . I don't know. Never mind," she says.
Doug and Grayson look at Carol, wondering what has her so on edge. Finally, Grayson stands up and thanks them both again for coming. He tells them he will call as soon as he has more news about the case. Doug shakes hands with the officer then proceeds to leave. He guides Carol gently to the car and goes around to the driver's side.
"What happened?" he asks her. "What's wrong?"
"I . . . I don't know," she says.
"Yes you do," he says.
"I just . . . I guess the thought that he's still out there. This is all still going on. I mean, you said Mark told you yesterday that they'd had another victim come in just a few days ago, right? He's still doing this. No one has stopped him yet."
"I know it's hard. But they'll catch him. He's going to slip up soon and then he'll feel the full weight of the law when he does."
She knows he's right. It's good that he can be connected to more attacks than just her own. Still, though, something is very disconcerting about this whole situation. Knowing he's connected to those other rapes leaves her with a very uneasy feeling. Doug is well aware of this as they drive towards home.
Doug looks around the apartment but doesn't see Carol. "Where is she?" he mumbles to himself. "Carol?" he calls out. There is no response. She looks in the bedroom then in the kitchen but doesn't see her. How far could she have gotten while he was in the shower? Then, a thought occurs to him. He walks over to the sliding glass door that leads to his balcony and pushes back the curtains. Sure enough there she is.
"Aren't you cold?" he asks as he pushes open the door and steps out to join her.
"A little, but it's nice out here," she replies. She's wearing a coat and has her arms wrapped around herself.
He steps up behind her and puts his arms over hers. "What are you thinking about?" he asks.
"Today mostly. The police station . . ."
"You know I'm never going to let him hurt you again, right? You don't have to worry about that."
"I know, it's just . . . This is going to sound strange," she says.
"Go ahead, I'm listening," he replies.
"Well, the thing is, if it's really the same guy, why did he choose me? I mean, I know I don't have to blame myself and all that so don't even start with that," she says. He keeps his mouth shut as she continues. "I'm not saying I think I deserved it, but I must have *done* something."
"Why do you say that?" he asks.
"Think about it. All of the victims were elderly. He never broke in, always waited until he had an easy way in. He wrote on all of them. I just don't fit the pattern."
"Well, maybe he decided to break his pattern," Doug suggests.
"Yeah, maybe, but then why did he go back to it? There have been two more victims since me and they fit right in with his MO."
"What are you saying, Carol?" Doug asks.
"I'm saying that I'm not within the limits of his victims. I'm different, just me. There has to be a reason for that."
"You'll never understand his reasoning. He's a psycho," Doug says.
"I'm not disputing that. I'm only saying there must be a reason for him to break his pattern. I mean, people like that are methodical. They pick an approach and stick to it. That's how they usually get caught. But this guy . . . he broke his own rules with me. They don't usually do that. There's got to be a reason."
"So, what do you think it is? What reason could he possibly have?" Doug asks.
"Well, I felt like something was familiar about him when I looked in his eyes . . . maybe I know him. Maybe something I did, something I said, set him off. He wanted to get back at me, make me suffer. That would also explain why he let me live. I couldn't very well suffer if he killed me," she says.
"Yeah, but he didn't kill any of them. He left a few of them in such bad shape that they ended up dying but it's like he just lost control. It's not like he went there with the intention to kill."
"That's true . . . but there's something else. I know this is going to sound weird but . . ."
"What?" Doug asks. He looks in her eyes.
"I . . . I felt like . . . when he was attacking me, it was almost like, like he didn't like it. Like he was doing it because he had to, like it was a chore. I couldn't put my finger on it at first but that is definitely how he was acting. It was very strange."
Doug takes her in his arms. "Maybe you're right, maybe he is somebody you know. Or at least someone you've met. You could have treated him in the ER. Who knows? But it doesn't matter. You still didn't deserve this. And they are going to catch him." She lets her head rest on his shoulder and sinks into his arms. She hopes he's right.
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Created by Courtney Stovall © 1998
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