Murder in the Family

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"Murder in the Family"
- An Alternate Universe story for the Diagnosis Murder Episode "Murder in the Family".
Author: Sharon
Email: schmidtsharonk@hotmail.com
Rating: G
Summary: Following her rescue from Andrea, Steve and Carol work on reconciling their relationship.
Disclaimer: "Diagnosis Murder" and its characters are property of CBS and Viacom. I have simply borrowed them to create this piece of fan fiction. I did it for enjoyment and not for profit.
Feedback: Would be appreciated

"I knew you'd find my message," Carol said, hugging her father

"I probably wouldn't have if it weren't for Steve." At Carol's puzzled look Mark explained, "Your big brother knew you wouldn't run away."

Carol was stunned. Barely twenty-four hours earlier, Steve had accused her of always running when things got too tough. Now it sounded as if he'd had a change of heart.

Glancing over her shoulder, Carol saw Steve leaning against one of the police cars. She was undecided if she should go to him and, sensing her hesitancy, Mark gave her an encouraging nod. Squaring her shoulders, Carol walked over to her brother.

Steve watched as Carol came towards him. The unreadable expression on her face made it impossible to tell what she was thinking. He wasn't in the mood to argue with her. His ribs were on fire, it was difficult to take a breath, and he was beginning to think he should've listened to his father about staying in the hospital. With an effort, Steve pushed himself upright as Carol stopped directly in front of him. Unblinkingly they stared at each other for a few seconds and then, suddenly, she smiled. Steve pulled her into his arms and she slid her arms around his waist being careful to avoid his injured ribs.

Carol was the first to break the silence. "What are you doing out of the hospital?" she demanded. "Never mind, don't answer that. The better question is how did you manage to sneak past Dad?"

"I saved him the trouble," Mark said, coming up behind them. "I let him out on a conditional release and his time has just run out. Come on," he motioned to Steve. "It's time for you to go back to the hospital."

Steve grimaced. "All you're going to do is prescribe bed rest and check my vitals every two hours. I don't think I have to be in the hospital for that especially since I have my own doctor and a private nurse to keep an eye on me."

"Well…" Mark appeared to be giving the argument some consideration.

As she watched Steve, it seemed to Carol that he was taking awfully shallow breaths and at times had to stop to catch his breath. "Are you having trouble breathing?" she asked.

"I have cracked ribs, Carol," Steve snapped. "It hurts to stand so of course I'm having trouble breathing."

Carol ignored her brother's tone and looked at Mark. "What do you think?"

If Steve was admitting to being in pain, Mark figured they'd better take no chances. "I think we should head back to the hospital."
"Dad!"

"Just to be on the safe side. If I'm satisfied with what I see, you can go home." He motioned to Emma Lopez and the detective walked over. "If you don't need us anymore, we're going back to the hospital."

"I can send an officer with you so he can take Carol's statement."

"Great."

Steve let go of the police car he had been leaning on and swayed slightly. Carol sighed in irritation. "Don't be so proud and let me help you to the car."

Emma smothered a smile as Steve glowered. "Officer," she said to the patrolman, "if Lieutenant Sloan gives his father or sister any trouble about going to the hospital, you have my permission to wound him."

"Emma!" Steve protested.

Mark laughed. "Hopefully we won't need to take such drastic measures, but that should keep him in line. Thanks, Emma."

Deadly force wasn't needed and a second x-ray showed no additional damage to Steve's ribs. Mark was relieved. After Carol's comment about Steve's breathing, Mark had been concerned that one of the cracked ribs had broken and punctured a lung. He'd insisted on the additional x-ray so they wouldn't have to take a chance on having to rush Steve back to the hospital later with complications.

The drive to the beach was done in near silence. Steve dozed in the backseat only rousing when Mark stopped the car outside of the house. Waving aside Carol's offer of help, Mark assisted Steve down the steps and they disappeared into Steve's lower level apartment.

Thirty minutes later, after helping Steve into bed and giving him a dose of pain medication, Mark returned to the first floor. The house was quiet, almost too quiet he realized uneasily. He should be hearing sounds from Carol but there were none. Had she left again without saying good-bye, Mark wondered as he checked the deck and beach for any sign of his daughter and came up empty. Reentering the house, he called out.

"Carol? Carol?"

With relief, Mark heard the bedroom door open. Carol came out in a robe and with her hair wrapped in a towel. She'd obviously just finished taking a shower.

"Daddy? What's wrong? Is it Steve?"

Mark dropped into the easy chair. "Everything's fine. Steve's asleep."

"Then what had you nearly in a panic?"

Mark hung his head, ashamed at the lack of trust he had shown his daughter. "It was so quiet when I came upstairs, I was afraid that you'd left again."

Carol dropped to her knees next to the chair. "I will never do that to you or Steve again, I promise. I wasn't thinking about anybody but myself eight years ago and that was wrong. I won't be that selfish again."

"And I'm sorry that I didn't trust you just now."

"Well trust needs to be earned, and I haven't given you much of a reason to trust me in the past with my behavior." Carol rose. "Jesse and Amanda will be here for dinner. Amanda called while you were downstairs. Do you think Steve will be up for company?"

"He might be in some discomfort, but I think he'll be okay."

"Good. I'm going to get dressed and dry my hair, then I'm going to see what I can make for dinner."

Carol was thankful someone had retrieved her suitcase from Andrea's house and dropped it by the hospital. In her haste to flee Barstow she hadn't packed much more than a few essentials so she didn't have many clothes to choose from, but at least she wouldn't have to put the same jeans and shirt back on. Her comb apparently lost when Vince and Malcolm searched her bag, Carol ran her fingers through her hair and decided to let it finish drying naturally. You always were low maintenance, she smirked at her reflection.

Tiptoeing past her father who had fallen asleep in the chair, Carol entered the kitchen. A search of the cupboards revealed two things. One was that everything was still stored in the same place it had been when her mother ruled the kitchen, and the other was that all the ingredients for a pan of lasagna were on the shelves. Humming quietly with the radio, Carol pulled out the pans she needed and began cooking.

Sometime later Carol heard the shower running and surmised her dad had wakened from his nap. Glancing at the clock, she realized it was later than she thought. Amanda and Jesse would be arriving soon and she hadn't chilled the wine she had found on the shelf to go with dinner.

"Carol?"

"In the kitchen, Dad."

Mark came through the doorway sniffing appreciatively. "Something smells really good."

"Must be dessert. I haven't put the lasagna in the oven yet."

A quiet knock sounded on the door leading to the deck and Jesse and Amanda stepped inside. "Hi! We didn't want to use the front door in case Steve was asleep in the living room."

"He's downstairs," Mark said. "I'm hoping the pain medication will keep him knocked out for a while yet."

"Sorry we missed you when you came back to the hospital. I was in surgery."

"And I was in the middle of an autopsy. We were glad to hear from the x-ray techs that everything checked out okay."

"He wasn't too happy about having to go back to the hospital, but I just thought it was a good idea to get a second look at his ribs after all that moving around he did."

"That was my fault," Carol said coming into the dining room with dishes to set the table. "I thought he was having some trouble breathing."

Jesse took a stack of plates from her. "You did the right thing. Steve hates to admit when something is wrong so we have to be doubly vigilant. He can't stand anybody making a fuss over him."

"Some things never change I guess," Carol commented, wryly. "Even as a kid he hated being the center of attention."

After putting the lasagna in the oven and setting the timer, Carol slipped downstairs to check on Steve. The bedroom door was ajar and she peeked her head through. While he'd been sleeping, the sun had changed positions in the sky and the room was flooded with sunlight. Steve had one arm flung over his eyes as if trying to block it out. Quietly Carol crossed to the window and closed the blind plunging the room into the shadows.

"Thanks."

Startled, Carol swung around. "Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."

"You didn't. I've just been laying here wishing I had reminded Dad to close the blind before he went upstairs."

"Now you can go back to sleep without getting up. Do you need anything while I'm here? Water? More pain medication?"

Steve removed his arm from his face. "Help me rearrange the pillows so I can sit up."

Carol stacked the pillows behind Steve and helped ease him into a sitting position. He couldn't quite suppress the slight groan of pain the movement caused. Tears sprung to Carol's eyes.

"I'm sorry. This is all my fault."

"What is?"

"Everything. I never should've come back. If I hadn't, then Bruce wouldn't have followed me, Vince and Malcolm wouldn't have ended up here and you would've never had to get involved with them."

"Is that what you think?"

"That's what I know! You're hurt and it's my fault."

Steve sighed. Guilt was eating away at Carol. Somehow he'd have to convince her his injuries weren't her fault, but he'd have to do it carefully. One misspoken word on his part and he had a feeling Carol would leave again.

"Sit with me?" he asked gently.

Hesitantly Carol perched on the edge of the bed, refusing to meet her brother's eyes. "I have a pretty good idea of how much courage it took for you to come back here so I don't want you to ever be sorry about that."

"But…"

"No buts. I'm a cop, Carol. I know the risks that come with the job. Dealing with guys like Vince and Malcolm is one of them and so is getting hurt. This could've happened while I was following a lead on any one of the dozen cases I have sitting on my desk. Don't blame yourself. If you have to blame somebody, blame Bruce. He got you involved without your knowledge."

Carol twisted her wedding band. "It's so easy to blame him. He's dead."

"Then don't blame anybody. Just let it go. I have."

Carol finally raised her head and looked directly at Steve. "Really?"

"Really." Steve tilted Carol's chin so he could examine the faint bruise still visible along her jaw line. "How many times did Bruce hit you?"

"It doesn't matter."

"It does matter, Carol. How many times did he hit you?"

Carol removed Steve's hand from her jaw but instead of letting go entwined her fingers with his. "Just once," she replied. "When he did that, I realized he wasn't the man I married anymore. Bruce was involved in something I wanted no part of and I knew if I stayed he'd drag me in whether I agreed or not. And I was pretty sure I'd get hit again, too. I'm lucky. I saw the signs and knew enough to get out. Women come through the clinic all the time that think they can't leave or that they deserved to be hit. Not me. I don't deserve it and I refuse to be a victim."

Steve squeezed her hand. "When did you get so smart? And so grown-up?"

"Maybe I always have been and you just never noticed."

Steve's heart constricted at the sadness in Carol's voice. Despite their reconciliation, he knew he bore the majority of blame for driving her away and that guilt still weighed heavily on him. He noticed, for the first time, the lines of exhaustion around her eyes and the tension in the set of her shoulders. Tugging gently on her hand, Steve encouraged Carol to stretch out next to him in the big bed. He draped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into the shelter of his embrace.

"Your ribs!" Carol protested.

"Would you quit worrying so much?" Steve was exasperated.

"Do you know what this reminds me of?"

"No, what?"

"All the nights you let me crawl into bed with you after I had a bad dream."

Steve smiled at the memory. Shortly after moving into the beach house, Carol began having bad dreams. She would wake up crying not remembering what the dream was about. Mark or Katherine would wipe away her tears, tuck her back in to bed and sit with her until she calmed down. Once alone, however, she would always sneak into Steve's room where she would crawl under the covers with her big brother. This pattern had lasted about three months and then the dreams stopped as suddenly as they had started. They had never figured out what had caused them.

"I remember the first night you came into my room. All of a sudden I woke up and there you were, standing next to my bed. You had that sad, stuffed dog - "

"Mr. Sam."

"That's right, Mr. Sam. Anyway, he was tucked under your arm and you looked so sad. I asked you what was wrong and you said you wanted to sleep with me. You got into bed and were asleep in minutes."

"I always knew you'd keep the monsters away. And that was before I knew about the real life monsters."

"You don't have to worry about Andrea or Vince and Malcolm. They're going away for a long time."

Carol could feel herself relaxing for the first time since the night Bruce hit her and she'd made the decision to flee whatever he had gotten involved in. "Only a few days 'til Christmas. I guess I have to go shopping."

"Me too. What do you want for Christmas?"

"I don't know."

"Come on, you gotta give me some hints. How about something for your new apartment?" Steve remembered Carol mentioning even the furniture in the Barstow apartment was rented.

"I'm sure I'll love anything you pick out. What about you? What do you want for Christmas?"

"I already got my present."

"You did? What was it?"

"You," Steve said, softly. "Coming home. The only other thing I'd want is for you to actually stay for Christmas."

"What if I told you that could be arranged?"

Steve looked down and met Carol's gaze. "Are you going to stay for Christmas?"

"Yes. My job doesn't start until the Monday after New Year's. It was the apartment I needed to get, but after we got back here this afternoon I called the landlady. I told her I was still interested but would be staying in California longer than I planned. She offered to hold the apartment for me. I told her if she had another chance to rent it out I'd understand, but she said she didn't want to bother advertising over the holidays."

Carol fell silent and a few minutes later Steve could tell by the sound of her even breathing that she had fallen asleep. Savoring the quiet, he stroked her hair and let his mind drift back to something that had happened several weeks before. He'd come upstairs and his dad had been playing the soundtrack from the Broadway musical "Sweeny Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street" one of the more obscure compact discs in his extensive collection. One song in particular, entitled "Not While I'm Around", had caught his attention. It had reminded him of Carol, of his fierce desire to always protect her, and his failure to prevent her from marrying Bruce. The song had touched something deep inside him and he had borrowed the CD so he could listen to the song again.

"Nothing's gonna harm you," Steve quoted softly, "not while I'm around. Nothing's gonna harm you. No sir, not while I'm around…No one's gonna hurt you, no one's gonna dare, others can desert you, not to worry, whistle, I'll be there…Nothing's gonna harm you, not while I'm around. Nothing's gonna harm you, not while I'm around…"

Upstairs on the deck, Mark was enjoying the mild weather and the company of his two young friends. Glancing at his watch, he realized time had passed more quickly than he'd thought and that the lasagna would be ready to come out of the oven soon. It also dawned on Mark that he hadn't seen Carol in a while.

"Do either of you know where Carol is?"

"Last time I saw her she was headed downstairs," Amanda said.

Mark didn't know whether to be relieved or alarmed. "I'd better go check and see if everything's okay," he said, rising from his chair.

"I haven't heard anything," Jesse said.

"I think that's Mark's point, Jesse. As a parent, you start to worry if your kids are too quiet. It usually means they're up to something."

Jesse smiled mischievously. "Or it could mean that Steve said something Carol didn't like and she smothered him with a pillow. He's not exactly in fighting shape right now."

Mark shook his head in amusement at the picture Jesse's words had formed. His children had had a lot of screaming matches especially in the months leading up to Carol's departure but not once to his knowledge had they ever tried to hurt each other. However, he wouldn't put it past his headstrong daughter to try and teach her equally stubborn brother a lesson if he provoked her.

"Jesse, will you take the lasagna out of the oven when the timer goes off?"

The young doctor brightened at the mention of dinner and Amanda shot Mark a skeptical look. "Are you sure - " she started.

"And Amanda will you keep an eye on Jesse to make sure he doesn't eat any of it before we're all at the table?"

Jesse's face fell and Amanda laughed. "Sure, Mark!"

Satisfied dinner was in good hands, Mark descended the stairs to Steve's apartment. The bedroom door was open yet he still couldn't hear any voices. Crossing to the threshold, Mark raised his hand to knock but stopped as he saw Steve put a finger to his lips and motion toward his sleeping sister.

Mark approached the bed silently. "How long has she been asleep?"

"Not long," Steve whispered. "She was exhausted."

"Dinner will be ready soon. Are you coming up?"
Steve nodded. "I've been smelling the lasagna for the last 20 minutes." He eased his arm from around Carol and carefully laid her head down on a pillow. "I just want to clean up a little first."

"No shower," his dad warned. "Just a sponge bath."

Steve moved cautiously from the bed as much to shield his sore ribs as to not waken Carol. "I know," he said. "I'll let her sleep until I'm done."

"Need any help?"

"Thanks, but I'll manage," Steve replied, heading for his bathroom.

Fifteen minutes later, Steve emerged from the bathroom feeling refreshed after his quick sponge bath. He moved around the room quietly getting dressed and combing his hair. His sore ribs prevented him from leaning over to shake Carol awake so he had to settle for calling her name.

"Carol. Carol, wake up." Carol made a little noise and shifted but didn't wake up. Steve tried again. "Come on, Sis. It's time to wake up."

Carol stirred and stretched, blinking the sleep out of her eyes. "How long was I out?" she asked, sleepily.

"Not long enough, but I figured you might want some dinner."

"Dinner!" Carol scrambled off the bed fully awake now. "I forgot about the lasagna in the oven. You shouldn't have let me fall asleep."

"Relax." Steve grabbed Carol's arm to prevent her from running out of the room. "I'm sure Dad and Amanda have everything under control. After all, I haven't smelled anything burning yet."

Carol smiled. "I suppose you're right. Everything was basically done except to toast the bread and pour the wine."

"See I told you." Steve headed for the stairs. "Let's eat."

"You go ahead, I'll be up in a minute. I want to splash some water on my face and run my fingers through my hair."

"Okay, but don't take too long. If I know Jesse, and I do, he's already at the table waiting for the food."

When Carol came upstairs a few minutes later, Jesse wasn't at the table but hanging around the kitchen. Amanda handed him the salad bowl and shooed him away from the oven where she was removing the garlic toast. Mark was serving the lasagna and Steve was opening the wine.

"Anything I can do?"
"Nope," Mark assured her. "It's all taken care of. Why don't you go have a seat? We're ready to eat."

It was obvious to Carol as she quietly ate her dinner that her dad and brother had shared many other meals with the two doctors. There was an easy camaraderie between the foursome, shared jokes and quick laughter. Carol's heart warmed with the knowledge that Jesse and Amanda were such good friends to Steve and her dad.

"When should we put up the tree?" Mark's voice pulled Carol out of her own thoughts.

"Now?" Steve asked, his eyes brightening.

Mark laughed. "You just can't wait can you?"

"The tree has always been one of Steve's favorite Christmas traditions," Carol told Amanda and Jesse. "He would've put it up right after Halloween if Mom and Dad would've let him."

Steve's face reddened. "Okay, Carol. It happened once and I was ten."

Jesse was clearly enjoying Steve's embarrassment. "You got anymore good Steve stories?" he asked Carol.

"Tons," she assured him. "There was this time when he was about 12…"

Steve didn't know how the conversation had gotten out of control so fast. "All right, we don't really need to be telling anymore stories about me and my youth tonight."

"You're right," Carol agreed. "There'll be plenty of time tomorrow. I'll meet you for coffee, Jesse, and give you the rest of the dirt."

Even Amanda was intrigued. "Call me when you go. I want to hear this too!"

"Oh, Amanda! Not you too?!" Steve turned to his father. "Are you just going to sit there and let the three of them gang up on me or are you going to help me out?"

Mark smiled. "I gave up trying to referee you two long ago. And Jesse and Amanda are free to make their own decisions about who they're siding with in this squabble."

"Clearly I'm getting absolutely no support here," Steve said, rising stiffly from the table, "and I'm the one who got hit by a car. You can put up the tree without me."

Carol wadded up her napkin and threw it at Steve. "Going to go pout, big brother?"

"Enough children," Mark said mildly, although Jesse and Amanda suspected he was enjoying the byplay as much as they were. "Time for a truce. I was thinking we could decorate the tree on Saturday. Norman will be back from his conference on Friday and Amanda you can bring CJ. After all, this is his first Christmas. He needs to start learning all these traditions early."

Everyone agreed to Mark's suggestion. Carol stood up and looked at her brother. "So how 'bout it? You staying for dessert?"

"What did you make?" Steve wasn't sure if dessert could mollify him completely.

"Pineapple upside down cake."

"Have any ice cream to go with that?"

"Of course."

Steve smiled at his sister. "Then I'll stay," he said, returning to his seat.

And just to prove there were no hard feelings, Carol gave Steve the largest piece of cake and the biggest scoop of ice cream.

(Pick up a tree-decorating scene)