Author's note: Thank you for the reviews. I'm sorry, but I'll keep on saying it: please heed the warnings (see chapter one).

Synopsis: A devastating accident destroys lives and tears friendships apart.

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of DM, I do own the ones I created.

ONLY HUMAN.

Chapter Three.

"Doctor Bentley?" A gentle hand shook her shoulder and she tried to shrug it away. But it persisted. "Amanda?"

Reluctantly, Amanda blinked her eyes open. It felt as though it had only been scant seconds since she'd closed them. She couldn't even remember falling asleep and it wasn't until she became more aware of her surroundings that she recalled collapsing into a chair next to Steve's bed.

"Amanda!"

The voice was more insistent now that her eyes were open and she looked up at the man who had disturbed her.

"Huh?" Her mouth felt fuzzy, her eyes were gritty and her brain hadn't quite caught up with the rest of her. Then recognition kicked in. "Kirk," she murmured. "Is something wrong?"

"Yes." Doctor Kirk Fitzpatrick squared his shoulders. "I need to speak to Doctor Travis, but I can't find him anywhere."

"Jesse's missing?" Amanda rubbed tiredly at her eyes, trying to make some sense of what she was being told. Sudden, vicious memories sprang to the forefront of her mind. Harsh words, ugly accusations – and tears. So, so many tears.

"I was in the OR with him," Kirk explained. "And then he insisted on coming to speak to you and Detective Sloan. I thought I'd give him a little time before I spoke to him about post-op care, but now I can't find him."

Amanda's mind drifted back to the corridor outside the recovery room. She remembered Jesse's devastation, Steve's assault on him and her own breakdown. Where had he gone from there? She didn't know. For all she knew, he could have still been standing there where Steve had pushed him. But she did know that, wherever he was, he was in no condition to be doing anything.

"Can't you do this without him?" She saw surprise flash across her colleague's features. "At least for now."

"Amanda, Jesse is Doctor Sloan's surgeon. I told you that I was in there with him, but I've never seen anything like it in my entire career. Jesse was so strong, so assured. God, this was Mark Sloan on the table." Barely suppressed pain in his voice reminded Amanda that the morning's events would affect everybody in the hospital and not just those closest to Mark. He was a loved and respected man. "And Jesse was…" He shook his head; quiet awe replacing the hurt. "He was unbelievable… It was the most incredible display of professionalism I have ever seen. I can't even imagine what must have been going through his mind. But he never flinched, never faltered… And I can't go over his head now. I can't try and take over."

"Kirk, I'm sorry." It hurt Amanda's heart to hear just what had happened in the OR. Jesse may have done his job to perfection, but now he was paying the ultimate price.

"Somebody's going to have to."


Surgeons, physical therapists, physiatrists, prosthetists, psychologists. The words buzzed around Jesse's head, breaking through his devastation and forcing his professionalism back to the fore. That was the team he needed. That was the support Mark would need to help him get through his life changing accident. As the chief surgeon in charge of his case, as the head of the ER, it should have been his job to pull that team together.

He had contacted none of them.

A resurgence of guilt rushed up to further torment his already tortured senses. He was hiding – and crying – in his car and, all the while that he sat there, he was neglecting the needs of his patient. But by returning to the hospital, he would run the risk of encountering the very last person that he wanted to face.

Jesse had never considered himself to be a coward – not that he saw himself as being especially brave – but the thought of having another confrontation with the man he had considered to be his best friend filled him with terror.

But Mark's needs had to come first. He would awaken eventually and, when he did, the support structure would already have to be in place so that his care could begin immediately. Jesse wondered how much precious time his own selfishness had wasted. He squinted at the clock on the dashboard, frowning as he read its digital display. It did little to enlighten him. It should have helped his agile mind to quickly calculate the effects and dosage of the anaesthetic and – allowing for the individuality of each patient – to come up with an approximate time for Mark's return to consciousness. Instead, it merely told him that it was half past six.

He blinked and the clock ticked over another minute, but still he remained in ignorance. It never occurred to him that his inability to do the calculation was down to the simple fact that he had not so much as glanced at a timepiece from the moment he had arrived at the hospital. All he knew was that he had no idea as to when he might expect Mark to awaken. In fact, it could be happening even as he sat there. Or it could have happened already.

That one simple thought spurred Jesse into action and he dragged his cellphone from his pocket.

Then he could only stare uselessly at the instrument lying in his hands as he tried to make some sense of his thoughts. Who should he call? He blinked, trying to stop his vision from blurring, trying to focus on the handset of the phone. It was hopeless. He couldn't think straight. He didn't know who was on duty or who was on call. He didn't know anything any more.

How was he supposed to choose the best people for the job, when it was patently obvious that he was not included amongst their number?

He rubbed one hand over his still teary eyes and then pinched the bridge of his nose. He had to do this. He had to get Mark the care that he needed. He had to fulfil one last duty for his friend.

But his mind remained stubbornly blank – he was too distracted by everything else that had happened that day. It was impossible for him to concentrate and that only served to make him feel even more worthless. It should have been an easy task, but he was woefully inadequate to perform it. He was failing Mark all over again.

His mind's eye was filled with images of the OR – and of the fury that Steve had directed at him. His inability to perform this one, simple task only added to his sense of failure – to his ruthless self-condemnation.

Jesse wasn't the type of man to abrogate his responsibilities, but he could see no other choice. Mark's needs had to come first and he tried to think rationally. Who else had been in the OR? Who was the surgeon he had so rudely burst in on and taken control from?

He now knew that he shouldn't have done it. If he hadn't been so arrogant and insisted on being the one to take care of Mark then the outcome might have been wholly different. And Mark's continuing care wouldn't now be being so neglected.

With startling clarity, he recalled the moment that he had burst into the OR; that a masked face had been raised in surprise, before instantly disappearing from view – silently allowing him to take over.

Slowly, he began to dial.


"I mean it, Kirk." Amanda had taken her colleague out into the corridor – not wanting to risk disturbing Steve, but needing to be able to keep an eye on him. "It wasn't easy…" She shook her head, barely holding herself together. "Somebody has to take charge. Jesse was…"

A voice over the tannoy spoke at the same time as Amanda, calling Doctor Fitzpatrick to the telephone. Flashing the pathologist an apologetic smile, Kirk headed down the corridor to take his call.

Helplessness churned in Amanda's gut. There was only so much that she, alone, could do – and yet so much more was being demanded of her. Three people badly needed her and yet circumstance was forcing her to neglect two out of those three.

She turned her weary gaze back into the room where Steve still slept. He would only be out of it for a couple more hours – she'd only dosed him with the mildest sedative – and so she was reluctant to leave. More than anything, she didn't want him to be alone when he woke up. Her desire for that not to happen even overrode her fear of what the detective's reaction would be to being forcibly drugged.

Then there was Mark – another whom she wanted to be by the side of when consciousness returned. He was going to be facing, quite possibly, the biggest shock of his life and would need his friends around him.

Finally, she turned her thoughts to Jesse. He was nowhere to be found – even though he should have been making arrangements for Mark's post-op care. She knew that he would never willingly shirk his responsibilities and yet she also knew how deeply he was hurting. Steve's words and actions – whatever his reasons – would have wounded him deeply. He needed a friend at his side to remind him that he had done what he'd done to save Mark's life; that, without him, they would be mourning the passing of a truly great man.

But how could she be with all three of them? How could she be strong for them all when, inside, she felt ready to fall apart?


"Kirk, it's Jesse Travis." Jesse's mouth was dry and he hated the way that his voice shook, but he had no choice but to continue. "I need to… I need to talk to you…"

"Jesse…"

There was such compassion in his colleague's voice that, still sitting in his car, he had to blink away fresh tears.

"Please, Kirk, just listen to me." He had to do this now, without interruption, before he lost it completely. "I… I can't… I haven't…"

"Jesse, are you alright?" Kirk's concern at the barely audible words was evident in his voice.

"No," Jesse admitted, to himself as much as to his colleague. "No, I'm not. Kirk, I need you to… I need for you to take over the care of… of a patient…"

"You're talking about Mark Sloan." It didn't take a genius to work that one out and, following his conversation with Amanda, Kirk felt his own apprehension grow. "Jesse, where are you? Doctor Bentley's worried about you. Hell, I'm worried about you."

"Please…" Jesse closed his eyes, not wanting to hear about their concern, knowing that he didn't deserve it. "I haven't… I haven't done anything… I'm sorry…"

"Jesse?"

"I haven't contacted anybody… I need you to do that… to do everything… I'm so sorry."

Kirk looked back down the corridor to where Amanda stood and silently prayed that she would turn towards him, so that he could wave her over and seek her help, but her gaze remained fixed on the window to Steve's room.

"You have to be there for him…" The young doctor's voice was little more than a whisper. "You have to… when he wakes up… Tell him… tell him I'm sorry."

"Jesse!" Kirk tried again to reach his colleague, but the phone went suddenly dead.


Jesse's eyes were dry as he turned the key in the Mustang's ignition and gunned the engine to life. He had done what he had to do; he had turned Mark's care over to someone who could provide it. Now there was nothing left to keep him at the hospital.

There was nothing left to keep him in LA.

He kept his mind focussed on the road as he pulled onto the freeway. Instinct caused him to head towards his apartment but, even as he drove along the familiar route, he wondered why he bothered.

The life that he had built for himself in LA was over. His life might well have been over – period. The jury was still out on that one.

Everything that he held dear had been torn from him. Steve had been the best friend he'd ever had – more of a brother than a friend. And Mark…

He allowed his thoughts to linger on Mark for a while. He had been so much more than a mentor and friend; so much more even than a surrogate father. He had been his inspiration, his role-model, the man who he would do anything for, the man who had driven him to become the best possible doctor he could be.

The man that he had failed.

Jesse drew his car to a halt outside his apartment complex and looked up at its featureless façade. He couldn't even think of it as home; the beach house had always been more of a home to him – but now he knew even that had been taken away. He would no longer be welcome there.

He truly had nothing left.


"Amanda, you were right." Kirk rejoined Amanda outside Steve's room, still reeling from the shock of the phone call he had just taken. "Jesse… he's in a bad way."

"That was him? Where is he? What did he say?"

"He's asked me to take over Mark's care. He sounded…" He shook his head at the memory. "I don't know… Not good."

"What do you mean 'not good'?" There was a note of hysteria in Amanda's voice that she couldn't prevent. Things were rapidly falling apart and she had no idea as to how to hold them together.

"He was upset, shaken," Kirk tried to explain. "And he wouldn't tell me where he was. I don't know for sure, but I got the impression that he won't be coming back."

"What?"

"He told me to apologise to Mark for him." The doctor sighed, heavily. "When I tried to talk to him, he hung up." He glanced at his watch, not being intentionally rude, but knowing that he had to start setting things in motion. It wouldn't be too long before Mark was due to come around. "Amanda…"

"It's okay, Kirk, I understand." She glanced down the corridor to the nearest phone. "I know you have work to do." She returned her gaze to where Steve still lay sleeping.

"Amanda." Kirk caught hold of her arm, seeing how torn she was and not wanting to add to her burden – but having no choice. "I think you should be there when Mark regains consciousness." He saw the way that her eyes filled with tears and hated himself for doing that to her. The least he could do was explain: "He's going to need his friends, Amanda. He's going to need them more than he's ever needed them in his life before. Please, I wouldn't ask if I didn't think it was important."

Amanda nodded, somewhat distractedly, her eyes once again drawn to the phone on the wall. Mark wasn't the only one who needed her.

"What about Steve?" she asked, wondering how she could possibly spread herself so thin, so as to be able to help them all.

"I don't think it would be a good idea for him to be there. Not the first time." Kirk looked in through the window. "Actually, I'm hoping that he'll still be asleep because – if he isn't – then I don't think we'll be able to stop him."

"He should be out for at least a couple more hours," Amanda answered, softly. "How long until… until you think you'll need me?"

"An hour. Maybe two."

"It's going to be close." Though her voice was still gentle, inwardly Amanda was raging at the injustice of it all. It wasn't fair that now, on top of everything else, the father and son might awaken at the same time.

"I can have a nurse sit with him," Kirk put in, gesturing towards Steve's room. "She can page you the moment that he stirs."

"Thanks, Kirk," she replied, with weariness in her tone. But there was no time to rest; no time to sit down and take stock of events. Before she could even contemplate doing that, she had a phone call to make.

TBC