After the Fall
"Do you feel anything about what
happened to that family, any remorse?"
The mercenary shook his head and looked
away, avoiding the penetrating gaze of the psychiatrist. Damn it was getting hot! Unconsciously, he tugged at the collar of
his jumpsuit.
"Four people, two of them young
children, were killed because of your drunkenness. Don't you feel anything
about that?"
Again, he shook his head, but less
emphatically. The man reached out to touch him and he jumped. "I said
NO!" he bellowed, pulling away.
The psychiatrist leaned in and began to
confront him, "Oh, but you do.... or the man you're trying to fight for
control over does.... and it eats at you, doesn't it, the guilt he feels....
you're working so hard to force him into the background while you take charge,
but you can't do it, can you? John is stronger than you thought."
He was sweating now, and he got up and
started to pace like a caged tiger, shouting out his reply, "Shut up...
you just shut up! I answered your stupid questions. No, I don't feel a damn
thing about it and I'm NOT going to jail!"
The mercenary was edgy, probably feeling
out of control. It was time to push the core personality to resurface.
"John... listen to me, you have to fight him. I know it hurts you to face
the pain, to deal with what happened to that family, but you can fight this,
and you can win. There are lots of people who will help you, if you let them.
Including me, John. We care about you and we're not going to let you down. You
can count on us... "
The observers all sat back and watched
the transformation with morbid fascination. The mercenary lurched toward the
table and practically fell into the chair, then closed his eyes. His body was
shaking, his muscles tensed as if preparing to do physical battle.
"Yes, that's it, John...
fight....you can come back out whenever you're ready. Believe in yourself,
John."
Gradually, changes began to take place.
The trembling abated. His eyelids fluttered and opened slightly. The doctor
waited patiently, believing his efforts were successful.
John looked up into warm brown eyes that
were broadcasting genuine concern, and knew it was safe.
"John...."
"Yea... I'm here." He put his
head down on the table and let out a low sound, a cross between a cry and a
moan. There was agony in that sound. The therapist reached out and placed a
hand on the man's slumped shoulder.
"John..... talk to me."
After a few long seconds, John finally
lifted his head and met the doctor's gaze, his eyes moist with guilty tears,
his voice choked with emotion, "I killed them... all four of them... I
killed em.... didn't I?"
There was no denying the truth of what
happened. "Yes.... you were driving the Jeep that night, but you weren't
completely responsible, John."
John shot out of the chair, suddenly
feeling a rush of righteous anger on behalf of the victims and the people who
loved them. "Doesn't do much for the family though does it? I should rot
in HELL for what I've done!"
"No, John...it doesn't, but your
being locked away in prison won't bring them back."
Just as suddenly, his energy was fading
and he had to lean against the dingy white wall to keep himself in a close
approximation to a standing position. "No, it won't... but it might make
the people who loved them feel a little better. Please... just go.... write
your report, or whatever it is you came here to do."
The psychiatrist, still sitting down,
offered emotional support for the first time, "Whether you believe it or
not, I do care about you, John. Everything that's happened, it all makes sense
now. You can win this fight, John... and reclaim your life."
"What life? Marlena wants a
divorce, the kids hate me. Nobody except Stefano can stand the sight of me and
now.... well, now I'm a murderer." Pushing himself away from the support
of the wall, he nearly fell into the chair, overcome by waves of despair and
what felt like physical exhaustion, though he'd done nothing physical in days.
"No, you are not a murderer, and
not everybody hates you. Most of your friends are beginning to realize the
pressure you've been under, and the struggles you've been through. They'll
forgive you, John.... and even trust you again... in time."
"Right." That was all he said,
putting his head in his hands, a sad weary sigh slowly escaping his mouth.
The man was shutting down. It was well
past time to quit--John needed to rest. Joel stood up and said, "Alright,
that's enough for now. John, I'm going to recommend that you have long term
psychiatric treatment to address what I'll call an atypical Dissociative
Disorder. I plan to state that you were not responsible for the deaths of those
four people, because at the time, the mercenary was in control. He was the one
who climbed into the vehicle while under the influence, not you. "
John was shaking his head while the
psychiatrist spoke. "Say whatever you want, but I know what I have to
do."
An alarm went off inside him. "What
do you mean, John?" Joel asked, leaning on the table and willing the man
to raise his head. He didn't.
"I mean I'm gonna plead guilty to
all of the charges. I deserve to lose more than my freedom for what I did, but
it's all I have to offer besides money."
Joel shook his head firmly, and tried to
dissuade the man, "No, John.... please don't do that. Don't throw your
life away. There are people who love you, people who need you to be an active
part of their lives."
"Oh yea.. is that so?" He was
skeptical at best.
"Marlena and your children need
you. Despite what you've come to believe, they don't hate you. Marlena loves
you very much, John. She called upon me to come here. She knows that you've
been fighting a battle with the mercenary and she wants to help you."
That made him look up. "She
actually told you that she still loves me?" he asked, focusing on what was
most central to his existence.
"It's as plain as day just to look
at her, John... but yes, she told me."
It was too good to be true. "I
can't... believe that. Then why hasn't she been to see me since the escape
attempt?"
"She was totally focused on getting
you the help you needed. She told me she sent a letter explaining everything...
didn't you get it?"
He shook his head, disturbed by the
thought that the police were holding out on him. "No... no, I didn't. I
didn't get any letter from Doc!" He rose to his feet, thinking about how
he could get a hold of it.
Looking at the expression of joyful
relief making its way across the man's face, it was clear he'd been
heartbroken, thinking she'd decided to go through with the divorce after his
last act of violence. "I'm sorry, I'll check into it for you as soon as I
leave here. But for now, I want you to get some rest. I'll let the Commander
know you need to be undisturbed for at least four hours."
"Okay..." Nodding his head,
John sat back down to wait for the guard who would escort him back to his cell.
Rest sounded good. He was tired as hell and he wasn't quite sure why.
Just before exiting the room, Joel
stopped and peered back at his patient, and felt a smile moving across his
face. This time, maybe it was possible to do some real good for a change.
Sensing the man's continued presence, John looked up and returned the smile.
"Thank you, Doctor. Thank you for... caring, for.... wanting to help me.
It means a lot."
"You're welcome, John, but you
should really be thanking Marlena. She can be quite insistent when there's
something she wants, or in this case, when someone she loves is in trouble.
"
That made him grin. He nodded.
"Yea, she really can....can't she?"
The younger man smiled again and extended his hand for John to shake. "It's going to be okay, John.... some day, maybe a long while from now, it's going to be okay."
John said nothing in return but did take
the man's hand briefly, thinking to himself, 'I don't know if I can really
believe that, but I guess I hope you're right.'
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Marlena was weeping by the time the
interview was finished, not entirely certain what she was feeling, other than
gratitude.
"So, it's really true.... John's
been trying to deal with the mercenary all this time." Bo said,
figuratively blown away by what he'd just witnessed.
Abe chimed in with an observation that
had just come to mind, "You know when I think about it... there were these
times... when he'd look at me for a second.... and I was sure that he was
hurting, trying to ask me for help, but just couldn't say the words."
That made Bo think of something he'd
wondered about too, ever since the trip to Paris. Nodding his head in
agreement, he said, "Yea... he'd be acting like this super soldier and
then when the crisis was over and the anger was gone, he would be sitting there
staring off into space, like he didn't quite know what just happened."
Marlena was shaking her head as began to
disparage herself, "I don't know why I didn't do something sooner.... why
I couldn't... admit that he was having a problem, and try to get him some
help."
The ever loyal ex-husband, Roman Brady,
who had remained silent thus far, rose to her defense, "Marlena... he hurt
you. I heard some of the things he said. How could you expect yourself to be
objective about it?"
She stood up and fired back, her guilt a
powerful force, "That's no excuse! Roman, I'm a psychiatrist for God's
sake... I should have *seen* it coming. No, I should have *let* myself see it!
Because I didn't, four people are dead, and John is facing a long jail
sentence, believing he deserves any punishment the court sees fit to dole
out."
Abe, who had been deep in thought about
the past year and a half or so, thinking over some incidents that occurred,
offered his opinion as well. "Marlena, you can't blame yourself for that.
Like you said before, it was a terrible accident. It's tragic that a family was
killed, but it certainly wasn't your fault and John isn't to blame either, at
least not completely. All we can really do now is get him the help he
needs."
"There's something we can all agree
on."
The group turned toward the door to see
Dr. Joel Stevenson stepping across the threshold. Marlena rushed over to
embrace him, almost taking his breath away, "Oh, Joel... how can I ever
thank you?"
"Well, you can start by convincing
him not to plead guilty. And you know you don't have to thank me, Marlena. I'm
just glad I was able to reach him."
"You can't know how much this means
to me... to prove that John wasn't responsible for what happened. I think he
has a real chance of being acquitted now."
"Yes, he does," Joel said,
performing a mental review of the pertinent details of the assessment he'd just
conducted.
Bo felt bad about his attitude and
decided now was as good a time as any to offer an apology. Stepping up close,
he reached out to rest a hand on her shoulder and spoke softly,
"Marlena... I'm really sorry...for what I said before... for how I've been
acting through this whole thing. Now, I understand what's been going on. I was
so angry I was blinded to the truth. I guess I needed someone to blame, and I
didn't want to believe what you were telling me."
"It's alright, Bo. I understand.
You had every right to be angry with him. He hurt a lot of people in this town.
But now we know it wasn't all John's doing. It was the mercenary who caused the
most damage."
Every head in the room was nodding in
response to her statement. And now they had to hope that the legal justice
system would see it the same way.
Sandra H. Bondelier
2000-2004