Chapter XXVIII ← Christian and Anastasia FanFiction

BLAST FROM THE PAST

CHAPTER XXVIII

We are airborne within the hour. I’m beyond mad at Leila for trying to kill herself. Something must have happened to her. She was such a lively and playful girl. What has changed? She was married. Is she still?

While the plane is still on the ground, I call my security advisor.

“Welch’s here,” he says.

“Welch, Grey. Listen I have an important job for you. I want you to find out what happened to Leila.”

“Leila sir?”

“You have all your necessary information. The last name she went by was Hanson when she was married. It’s one of my exes. She came to my penthouse today, and tried to open a vein in front of Mrs. Jones. She took her to the hospital, and they’ll keep her until I get there. But I want to know the circumstances that led her to do such a thing.”

“Has she been in touch with you sir?”

“No, she hasn’t. I haven’t laid eyes on her for nearly three years. 2 years and probably eight or nine months. She got married. Her family lives someplace east. But all that information is already available to you in your security files. I want you to contact the husband, and the family, and let me know what you find out.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Report back to me as soon as you find out. I want information, solid information within twenty-four hours.”

“Yes, sir,” he says, and I hang up.

Then I dial Mrs. Jones.

“Hello Mr. Grey,” she answers the phone.

“Mrs. Jones. Where have you taken Leila?”

“University of Washington Medical Center sir. It’s the best hospital in the city, and has an in-house psychiatric facility.”

“Okay. What’s her status?” I ask.

“Her cut was superficial. They are evaluating her mental state. So far, the doctors think that she might have gone through some sort of trauma, but since I’m not next to kin, I’m not given much information. I’m just waiting here, sir.”

“Okay. Make sure she remains in the hospital until I get there.”

“I will do what I can sir. But given the fact that I’m not related to her, and if one of her relatives show up, or she decides to check out, I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop her,” she says.

I run my hand through my hair in exasperation. She’s right of course.

“Thank you Mrs. Jones. Do what you can. Keep an eye on her.”

“Yes sir,” she says. Just as I am about to hang up, I remember the main question I wanted to ask her.

“Mrs. Jones, I forgot... How did Leila get in, what did she say, and what did she do?”

“Oh. She came to the front of course, and rang up. I knew who she was, so I allowed her to come up. She asked to speak with you completely disheveled, and, I beg your pardon sir, but she was quite dirty as if she hadn’t bathed in days if not weeks. Her clothes were two sizes too big, and also dirty. She looked almost lost, and distressed. Her gaze wasn’t focused.” I close my eyes in pain. Leila! What happened to you? (←Misery by Maroon 5)

“Then what happened?” I probe.

“She asked where you were, or if you were home.”

“What exactly did she say?”

“She said, ‘where is ‘Master’? to which I answered, ‘he’s out of town.’ Then she asked, 'Are you lying Mrs. Jones so he doesn't speak to me?' I said 'Of course not, he's not even in the state." Then she said, ‘I loved the Master, but it wasn't enough, he just didn’t love me,’ and I asked her if there was something if I could help her with, or if she needed anything. She said ‘nothing, not a thing. (←I Who Have Nothing by Haley Reinhart) Master is dark. Too dark. I just want to join my love. I’m nobody without him,’ she said and then out of nowhere she produced this small knife and slit her wrist. I had to tackle her to get it off of her hand, and I probably wouldn’t be able to, but she was too weak. She seemed to have lost a lot of weight. I tried to give her first aid at home, and then drove her to the University of Washington Medical Center sir.”

“Good call Mrs. Jones. Thank you for all you’ve done for her.”

“I wish I could do more sir; I told the hospital when I registered her, that she had no relatives in town, and I was her friend. But as you know, she’s an adult, and I won’t be able to do more than the law allows me to do as far as what gets done for her or the treatments she should receive. But I will do my best to try to keep her here until you arrive sir. Although I know she will receive some psychiatric help because of her attempted suicide. I just don't know how much though.”

“Thank you again Mrs. Jones,” I say. I’m completely at a loss. Someone else is suffering because of my fuckeduppedness.

Next, I call Dr. Flynn.

“John, Christian,” I say by the way of greeting.

He senses the urgency and tremor in my voice and asks with concern, “Christian, are you well?”

“Yes, I am,” I reply.

“Is it about Anastasia?” he asks. To which I give a sigh of relief. Thank God, Anastasia is well.

“No, it’s not. It’s Leila.”

“Leila?” he asks.

“Yes, my ex from two and a half or three years back.”

“What’s matter with her?”

“Apparently when I was visiting Anastasia in Savannah, Georgia, she showed up at my place, and opened up a vein in front of Mrs. Jones. She managed to subdue her, and take her to the hospital, but she will need mental treatment.”

“Where is she now?”

“She’s at Washington Medical Center.”

“It’s one of the best facilities, but, I don’t know too much about their mental facility. It may be fine and they possibly have some of the best doctors. But it is a hospital which of course means it's not solely dedicated to mental facilities.”

“I don’t want fine, John. I want the best. Right now, she’s a very sick girl who is in need of a lot of help. The fact that she came and done this in my apartment tells me that I must have done something wrong with her. Somehow I must have wronged her. It’s been nearly three years, for God’s sake! Did I damage her that much for her to wait this long and try to kill herself in my home?”

“Christian!” he says firmly. “Now is not the time to be self-deprecating. You haven’t had contact with this young woman for nearly three years, you say. Almost anything can happen to a person within that time frame. The fact that she came to you may be because she is crying for help, and she knows you may be able to provide that. Does she have any living relatives who may shed a light into her current circumstances?”

“Welch is looking into it.”

“Great. That might help us explain what had happened to her, and I have no doubt that once she’s out of the physical care, and gets evaluated at the hospital's psych ward, we can place her into a proper mental facility to get her the help she needs.”

“Yes. She needs help. I’m on my way to Seattle. I’ll see you when I get back. Meanwhile, secure a place for her at a proper mental facility that can help her.”

“Will do Christian. Have a safe flight back home,” he says concerned.

“Thanks John,” I respond and hang up.

We are going to be airborne and my pilot turned on the seat belt light on. God! The next several hours will be torturous. I left Anastasia behind, and Leila is trying to hurt herself. Can’t I just hold onto one nice day where only good things happen? Happy things, like flying, like making love with my beautiful girlfriend, like sailing, like having dinner with my girlfriend and her family. Why does everything have to take a turn for the worse?

My subconscious tells me that it’s because I’m fucked up! Of course I am, what else is new? I have this overwhelming load on my shoulders, that a drowning guilt that tells me that I’ve damaged Leila. That I’m the cause for her hurt. Why else would she come to my place after all these years and try to take her life? What if she succeeded? How could I have lived with myself if she succeeded knowing that one of my subs, a playful, sweet, beautiful woman killed herself? I never loved her, but I cared for her, and we had a good time. She was one of the four women aside from Elena that I had a long term Dom-Sub relationship with. She asked to be more, like Anastasia, and I didn’t want to. I didn’t have those gripping feelings for her. I had only been interested in her sexually. She was a great sub. Dear God! What have I done to her? I’m a son of a bitch... Literally! How many more women did I hurt? Guilt is killing me... I need to find out more about her circumstances, and provide her the help she needs. That’s the least I can do to repair whatever damage I have caused to her.

I close my eyes, and try to picture her like the way she was and like Mrs. Jones described her to be. It’s all my fault! All my fault! I damage people! I’m no good for them. It’s all because I’m too fucked up! I’m afraid to damage Anastasia. What if I do the same to her? What would happen? The horror takes over. I have to solve this. I have to rectify the situation I may have somehow caused. I lean back in my seat and let the grief consume me. What if I damage Anastasia like that? Didn't she sort of run away from me to think clearly in Georgia? What if I hurt her, too? I'm fucked up after all. What if I damage her too, what if, what if she runs away from me... for good? She's half my heart! (←Half of my Heart by John Meyer) Hell, she'd be taking all of my heart with her! I'd be lost without her! God, what sort of mess did I create?

I spend the flight home lost in thought. It’s Taylor’s concerned voice that brings me to here and now.

“Sir? Sir, we’re here.” I look up at him. My eyes bewildered, and confused. He has compassion in his eyes. Concern even. For me? Surely, not for me. I’m not deserving of such things. I damage people.

“Here?” I ask.

“Yes, sir. In Seattle.”

“Thank you Taylor,” I say and get up, and compose myself.

“Where to sir?” Taylor asks once we’re in the SUV.

I want you to take me to University of Washington Medical Center.”

“Yes, sir.”

I call Gayle on the way.

“Yes Mr. Grey,” she answers her phone.

“Mrs. Jones? Are you still at the hospital?”

“No, Mr. Grey. I’m not,” she replies.

“Why not?” I ask a little harshly.

“Leila has checked herself out sir. Since I’m not related to her, I wasn’t informed. I had been waiting around in the waiting room. And I finally went in to see how she was, but the bed was all made up, and ready for the next patient. So, I went to the nurse’s desk to find out where they have taken her as I was concerned that she may have been admitted to the Psych Ward. But the nurse informed me that she checked herself out an hour earlier. I have no idea where she may have gone! Then I rushed home to see if she would show up here again. I don’t know what else to do sir,” she says.

“You’ve done well Mrs. Jones. There is nothing you could have done. Thank you,” I say hanging up.

Taylor eyes me in the rearview mirror. He knows that Leila is gone.

“Are we still going to the hospital sir?”

“Yes. I need to speak with some of the doctors.”

“Yes, sir.”

I dial Dr. Flynn’s number.

“John, Christian's here.”

“Hello Christian, back in town?”

“Yes. Do me a favor. Meet me at University of Washington Medical Center. It may be easier to get information about Leila’s condition if you are there.”

“We can get her to consent for medical help.”

“Unfortunately, she checked out. So, we can’t get her consent,” I say flatly.

“Aha,” he responds. Meaning it will be difficult to get the information we need.

“I don’t think that’ll be a problem. I have her signed consent form. I’ll have it e-mailed to me.”

“You have all your submissives sign such contracts?” he asked incredulous.

“Yes,” I say flatly.

“Okay,” he responds.

“I’ll see you at the hospital then, at the admittance.”

Next I call Welch.

“Welch. I need you to e-mail me the consent form, and medical release form that Leila signed. You should have an electronic copy of them among the personal files,” I order him.

“Yes, sir,” he replies. Within six minutes of time, I have the necessary documents.

35 minutes later we’re sitting across from the department head from the Patient Medical Records. After having presented the consents, her medical information is released. Our next stop is to interview the shrink who evaluated Leila.

“Unfortunately, we didn’t have extensive time to completely evaluate her; as you know she checked out much sooner than expected. The attempted suicide was Leila’s cry for help. She’s going through some sort of trauma, though she never said what it was. The cut she inflicted upon herself is superficial. And the fact that she came to your place to do that shows her plea for help from you. Is she alone? Does she have no one?”

“I haven’t seen her for nearly three years. I don’t know the answer to that. The last I knew is that she was married.”

“How did she look to you? Did she ask for anything? Anyone? Was she forthcoming, or closed up?” This time it was John asking the questions.

“She looked what you would expect from a depressed, distressed individual. But, I had such a short time evaluating her, as she was uncooperative, and not speaking, I can only tell you the classic symptoms Doctor Flynn. I don’t really think she wanted to commit suicide,” he said solemnly looking at me and John. “She wanted to get attention, and cry for help.”

“What do you mean, she didn’t want to commit suicide? She came to my house, opened a vein, and if my housekeeper hadn’t been successful in subduing her, she probably would have,” I say exasperated.

“Mr. Grey. You have to understand. If she wanted to truly commit suicide, she could have done it where she could successfully reach her goal, away from intervention. No! She didn’t do that. She came to your place. She wanted to get a message across, and show her distress to you. We don’t know what that message is, but it appears that she knows you would interfere. Aside from being a cry for help, it may also be a cry for affection. If you were present when she was attempting her suicide, in her disturbed way, you would show her that you cared about her. If she had not presented these tendencies in the past, it is an indicative that she recently lived through some trauma. The fact that she comes to your place to fulfill her tendency makes me think that she knows or that she hopes you will provide her with the help she is desperately seeking.”

“I’m still not convinced that it’s that simple Doctor,” I say, and we get the available medical records, and leave the building.

At the parking lot, I turn to John and ask his take on all of this.

“I agree with the fact that she’s seeking your attention by attempting to commit suicide in your place. A place where she had resided as your Sub. She was a long term sub, was she not?” I nod.  “And knowing your relationships are intense, it’d be no surprise to me that she has a greater attachment to you than you would want to admit. Women think differently than men.”

“But, she was just my sub. We had a contract. In fact she was an established sub, so, I wasn’t her first Dom, or the last one for that matter.”

“Again Christian, this is not about contracts. Contracts don’t have feelings. People do. Even if they have a contract entering into a relationship. Coming back to the suicidal tendencies. It’s possibly one step away from the real intent to commit suicide. These are acute episodes if you will. 1/8^th of these episodes are superficial, and 7/8^th of them are invisible symptoms. You have been made aware of the visible symptom. What’s actually dangerous is what is not visible, Christian. It’s like an unseen symptoms of a disease.

These tendencies are not just in inflicting harm to oneself, but it can also manifest itself in harming others. So, you might want to watch out, and make sure you locate her. Are you sure you don’t want to go to the police?” he asks.

“No. She’ll withdraw and hide. It’ll make my job that much harder to locate her. What she needs is help, not being stuck in jail with no help, or inadequate mental care.”

“Well, here’s the thing Christian,” he explains. “These tendencies come about when we experience “self-forgetfulness,” forgetting our innate core, oblivious to our inner voice. Disconnection, deafness, and the patient becomes engrossed and trapped in a superficial and sometimes even petty issues and sometimes something quite tragic. In Leila’s case, we don’t know what triggered that. If we know the cause, we can have the cure, or at least a form of treatment. When the personality gets shaky, unstable, unsteady, weak, listless, uprooted like a tree losing water to supply to its roots, we have the depravities. This leads to sub-clinical or potential suicides in terms of many self-destructive tendencies laced with guilt, defeat, shame, suffocation, humiliation, self-pity, misery, you name it. But, my other concern is, and that is my biggest concern, when an individual is disconnected from the ‘self’, the consciousness, the sane part, the mental check that tells us to separate good from bad may also be disconnected. So, those individuals may also commit unspeakable atrocities as examples are abound. Distressed parents due to a divorce, or a job loss, or a big financial loss, or the prospect of some bad thing, ends up killing small innocent children thinking they’re doing them a favor by saving them from a horrible world, or with complete disconnection, no feelings are attached. The loss of this mental filter is extremely crucial, making your job to find her that much important! Do you understand the gravity of this Christian?” he says firmly.

I nod. I know what that means. She may be able to harm Anastasia! The thought makes me sick, and bile rises in my throat. (←Silence by Beethoven) Dr. Flynn and I part ways after shaking hands, and Taylor drives me to Escala.

I call Barney, my physical security specialist.

“Barney, Grey here.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I want you to use all your resources and locate Leila Hanson. She was married. Get in touch with the husband. Her family lived back east someplace. Get in touch with them. I’ll send you the hospital records. She attempted suicide in my place!” I say through gritted teeth barely containing my anger. “Find out from the husband what went on between the two, why she might have come to me, and find out from the family if they knew anything, any recent changes in her life, any trauma, any problems, any illnesses, anything you can dig up. I want no stone unturned! I want every answer in detail, and I want it now.”

“I’m getting to it, right away,” he says, and I hang up.

We make it to Escala, and I go and take a shower as the first thing. I want to wash off this weariness off of me if at all possible. I’m scared for Leila that she might harm herself, but I’m scared even more that she might harm Anastasia. I can’t handle that. It’d be entirely my fault. I’m sure I’ve broken Leila somehow. That’s why she came back to Escala. She asked for more, and I liked her, but I never wanted more with anyone else but Anastasia. She might have seen my picture with Anastasia on the paper on her graduation. She knows this place, and she knows me. If she’s following my activities through the media, she will have most definitely noticed that picture. Because it’s out of my norm to have a picture taken with a woman, given how discreet I am in my Dom-Sub relationships. That may have made her snap, making her breakdown my fault. I have to find her, and get her the help she needs. How many women did I damage that way? Guilt washes over me like a dark heavy night, suffocating me, unable to find my steady place; my heart is constricting. My thoughts go back to Anastasia. Even she couldn’t take the intensity of my 50 Shades of fuckeduppedess; she had to take a few days off to see her mother. I don’t want to screw this up, but I have to solve the problem at hand.

I go to the living room, and Mrs. Jones asks me if I am ready to eat.

“I’ll have to talk to Taylor, and then I’ll be ready to eat Mrs. Jones,” I say.

“Very good sir,” she says politely.

On my way to my office, my Blackberry buzzes. Annoyed, I take it, and open the text message which brings up a half smile to my face.

______________________________________

From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Safe arrival?
Date: June 2 2011 22:31 EST
To: Christian Grey

Dear Sir

Please let me know that you have arrived safely in Seattle. Since I’ve heard nothing from you, I’m starting to worry. Thinking of you.

Your Ana. X

______________________________________

Out of all this fucked up mess, her message is life a life ring tossed at me to save me from drowning in my misery. I type up her message immediately.

______________________________________

From: Christian Grey
Subject: Sorry
Date: June 2 2011 19:35
To: Anastasia Steele

Dear Miss Steele

I’ve arrived safely in Seattle. Please accept my apologies for not letting you know earlier. I don’t want to cause you any worry, and it truly is heartwarming to know that you care for me. I’m thinking of you as well, and as ever I’m looking forward to seeing you tomorrow.

Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

______________________________________

It’s great to know for a change that someone worries or cares for me. Her reply message dings in a few minutes.

______________________________________

From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: The Situation
Date: June 2 2011 22:39 EST
To: Christian Grey

Dear Mr. Grey

I think it’s utterly evident that I care for you deeply. How could you doubt that?

I hope your ‘situation’ is in hand.

Your Ana. X

PS: Are you going to tell me what I said in my sleep?

______________________________________

She manages to put a smile on my face at will in most unexpected circumstances. I love that about her! She misses me...really misses me. I wish I could have brought her back with me. (←Cowboy Take me Away by Dixie Chix) But I don't want to taint her with the shit that's going on right now.

______________________________________

From: Christian Grey
Subject: Pleading the fifth
Date: June 2 2011 19:44
To: Anastasia Steele

Dear Miss Steele

I like it very much that you care for me. The ‘situation’ here isn’t yet resolved. In regards to your post-script, my answer is – No.

Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

______________________________________

Because I like to hear you say it when you are awake Anastasia. Her response is immediate. ______________________________________

From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: The Situation
Date: June 2 2011 22:47 EST
To: Christian Grey

I hope it was amusing. Because you should know that I can’t accept any responsibility for what comes out of my mouth when I’m unconscious. In fact, you probably misheard me.

Surely, a man of your advanced years is a little deaf.

______________________________________

Her message actually makes me laugh out loud.

______________________________________

From: Christian Grey
Subject: Pleading guilty
Date: June 2 2011 19:51
To: Anastasia Steele

Dear Miss Steele

Sorry, could you speak up for this old man? I can’t hear you.

Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

______________________________________

I can’t help myself but tease her. Let’s see what she’ll say to that. And for a minute, I forget all my worries, only because of her.

______________________________________

From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Pleading insanity again
Date: June 2 2011 22:53 EST
To: Christian Grey

You are driving me crazy.

______________________________________

This response hitches my breath. She disarms me, and drives me crazy, and makes me ache for her all the time.

______________________________________

From: Christian Grey
Subject: Oh, I really hope so...
Date: June 2 2011 19:58
To: Anastasia Steele

Dear Miss Steele

I intend to do just that on Friday evening. Looking forward to it ;)

Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

______________________________________

From: Anastasia Steele
Subject: Grrrrr
Date: June 2 2011 23:01 EST
To: Christian Grey

I’m officially pissed at you.

Goodnight.

Miss A. R. Steele

______________________________________

Even her anger is hot and sexy!

______________________________________

From: Christian Grey
Subject: Wild cat
Date: June 2 2011 20:04
To: Anastasia Steele

Are you growling at me Miss Steele?
I too possess a cat of my own for growlers.

Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

______________________________________

I wait for her to respond. But she writes nothing. I watch my computer monitor and Blackberry simultaneously as if one or the other would speak, or spew out a message from Anastasia. I don’t want her to go to bed mad. I can’t take it – not after today; after a perfect morning, and my hasty departure from her without getting to say goodbye, and having to deal with a truckload of shit, I just can’t take it if she’s not speaking to me! I need her more than she knows, or imagines. So, I write her a response back.

______________________________________

From: Christian Grey
Subject: What you said in your sleep
Date: June 2 2011 20:19
To: Anastasia Steele

Anastasia
I’d rather hear you say the words you uttered in your sleep when you’re fully awake and conscious. That’s the reason why I won’t tell you. Go to sleep. You’ll need to be rested with what I have in mind for you tomorrow.

Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

______________________________________

In such a short time, she’s become an integral part of my coping mechanism, and my rock. My stable place, unwavering, sane, and innocent. She is my light out of the dark, an angel who fights with the devil inside me. She calls for my lost soul, and locates it, and I’m whole man again when she’s with me. I'm distracted, and nervous. Unable to wait for my woman. Can't it be tomorrow already? I miss her so much, especially now... I'll take her anyway I can. (←I Want You Just the Way You Are by Billy Joel) I groan and get back to my problems at hand.

Happy Monday! Can you feel it? The sad ending is nearing. Your thoughts? I must like you guys a lot because I'm posting even earlier. I'm off to dinner now...