Title: Trance.

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

Rating: T for violence in later chapters.

Summary: An old adversary plots the perfect murder.

Author's notes: Doctor Gavin Reed appeared in the Season Four episode "Delusions of Murder" (spoilers). Also references to "Alienated" and "Misdiagnosis Murder". Feedback is always appreciated. Thank you for the reviews so far.

TRANCE.

Part Nine.

It was becoming a habit, Amanda glumly realised later that day. Her sitting alone in her lab, worrying about one of her friends and wondering what she should do about it.

Jesse had, point blank, refused to admit that there was anything wrong throughout their drive to the hospital. But it was abundantly clear that that was not true. Though he had smiled on occasion, those smiles had been forced and there had been none of his customary good humour in evidence at all.

Getting him to talk about it, however, had been a different matter entirely. He had no explanation as to why he was running so late – other than that he had overslept, something that she had never known Jesse to do on a workday – and had kept on insisting that he felt fine, in spite of how contradictory that statement was to his very appearance. Then, when they had arrived at the hospital, he had paused for the longest moment staring at his Mustang as though wondering what it was doing there. The look on his face had bordered on frightened and, when Amanda had gently asked him what was wrong, he had seemed on the verge of tears. Then he had disappeared into the hospital, quickly mumbling his thanks for the lift.

Work had prevented the pathologist from investigating any further that morning – not that there was a lot she could do. With Jesse refusing to talk to her, she was left to her own speculations and she wasn't about to jump to any conclusions.

She wished that she could talk it over with someone, but wasn't about to worry either Mark or Steve. But, she realised with a grimly determined smile, it wouldn't hurt to call the beach house – just to see how Mark was doing. And, if Jesse's name were to crop up in the conversation, that it wouldn't do any harm. Feeling slightly better now that she was actually doing something, Amanda reached for the phone.

Steve answered on only the second ring. He sounded relaxed and Amanda allowed herself a small smile as she realised that him taking the time off – primarily to take care of his dad – was also doing him the world of good. Then her smile faded as she remembered the ulterior motive behind her call.

"How's Mark?" She started with the safest of questions.

"He's fine, Amanda. You can tell Jesse that he's following his instructions to the letter."

Amanda's heart skipped a beat. She had been trying to think of a way to bring their mutual friend's name into the conversation and Steve had presented her with the opportunity on a plate.

"Why don't you tell him yourself?" she asked, feigning casualness.

"I would if I could just get hold of him. I don't know why he carries a cellphone if he's never going to answer it."

"You mean he hasn't been round there?" Amanda's frown deepened as she recalled the trouble she'd had getting hold of Jesse that very morning.

"Not for a couple of days. Why? Amanda, is something wrong?"

"No, no. Everything's fine," she hastened to reassure him, even as she cursed his intuition. "It's just that when I saw him this morning, he looked pretty frazzled. I figured he was spreading his time between the hospital and your house."

"Not guilty. I haven't even spoken to him in two days. I figured he must have been busy with… Oh, dammit!"

"What?" Now it was Amanda's turn to be concerned, brought about by his sudden exclamation.

"Bob's." The succinct reply did little to enlighten her, but the detective was quick to elaborate. "I meant to arrange some cover for my shifts at Barbeque Bob's. Dammit, I bet that's where Jesse's been."

"He didn't mention it to me." It made sense, but Amanda wasn't entirely convinced.

"That doesn't surprise me, either. If he mentioned it to you, then you might mention it to me and Jesse would say that I've got enough on my plate without having to worry over some needless guilt trip."

Amanda smiled at the wryness in his tone. Yes, that was exactly what Jesse would say – and he would work the extra shifts at their co-owned restaurant without complaint, for as long as he was needed. It also sounded to Amanda as though the guilt trip had already been established – needless, or not. Steve's next words only compounded that feeling.

"I'll get on it right away. And, Amanda? If you see Jesse before I do, tell him I'm sorry."


It would have warmed Jesse's heart to know that his friends were concerned about him. While he would never go out of his way to make them worry – in fact the opposite was true and he always tried hard to hide his worries from them – their friendship meant a lot to him. And, as Amanda and Steve discussed him over the phone, he felt as though he really needed a friend.

He was starting to fear that he was losing his mind. The last two days held some terrifying blanks in his memory and the more he tried to think about it, the more it freaked him out. He didn't want to think about it, but the day was turning out to be accursedly slow and his mind kept drifting back to the series of inexplicable events that had befallen him. He had even found himself sipping tentatively at the coffee that he fixed for himself on his break – lest it contained any surprises. It hadn't – and his actions had left him feeling more foolish and paranoid than ever.

The caffeine boost, however badly it was needed, didn't do him any favours either. It only served to start his mind racing again – plaguing him with questions that he couldn't possibly hope to answer.

After his break he headed down to the ER. While he would never wish misfortune on anybody, a part of him hoped that things would pick up during the afternoon. Not only would it serve as a distraction, but he also needed all the help he could get simply to stay awake. That in itself was a whole new dilemma. He knew that he had been sleeping. Even if he couldn't actually remember going to bed, he had awoken there each morning – but he felt like he was back in his intern days, when thirty-six hour shifts hadn't been uncommon.


At the beach house, Steve frowned thoughtfully at the phone he had just hung up. After speaking to Amanda, his guilt had quickly got the better of him and he had been straight on the phone to Barbeque Bob's. What his staff had told him had initially perplexed him but, as he continued to stare at the now dormant telephone, his concern quickly grew.

Jesse hadn't been covering Steve's shifts at the restaurant. In fact, Jesse hadn't been there at all. It wasn't a problem – and he hadn't been alerted to it – because they employed some good staff. They all knew what had happened to Mark and had quietly got on with the task of keeping the business running smoothly. But that didn't make it any less of a mystery.

His friend hadn't been at the restaurant, hadn't been at the beach house and – from what Amanda had told him – hadn't been working overtime at the hospital. So exactly what was he doing to leave him looking so wiped – and wiped enough for Amanda to be expressing concern over the workaholic young man?

Steve thought about it for a while longer. It was nowhere near either his or his father's birthdays, so there were no surprise parties being planned – and he could think of no other reason why Jesse should resort to such secrecy. He was normally such a social person, spending almost as much time at the beach house as he did his own apartment. And something had to be keeping him busy, to prevent him from joining them for one of his father's almost legendary gourmet meals.

But at least it was a mystery that he could go some way towards solving. Picking up the phone again Steve dialled Jesse's number. Two minutes later, he hung up again and asked himself the same question that he had voiced aloud to Amanda: Why did the young doctor bother carrying a cellphone if he was never going to answer it?


The reason that Jesse didn't answer his phone was simply because he never heard it ringing. It was in his pocket and it was even switched on, but its shrill tones never penetrated the pounding in his head or the roaring in his ears.

He was standing in a corridor with his back pressed up against the wall and his palms flat against its cool tiles. He clung to the solidity of that wall because, at that moment, it was the only solid and real thing that he had in his entire existence. Everything else was a nightmare. It had to be – because, otherwise, he really had lost his mind completely.

After his break, Jesse had headed back down to the ER but, even before the reception desk had come into view, a strident voice had reached his ears. Normally such a thing would have sent him hurrying towards his destination to see if he could do anything to help – but this particular voice had the opposite effect on him. Instead, his heart had begun to race and irrational fear had driven him to his current position – where he squeezed his eyes shut and tried to resist the urge to clamp his hands over his ears and shut out that dreaded voice.

He had recognised it instantly, even though the rational part of his mind tried to tell him that it was impossible, and he didn't dare look around the corner to see if his face was the same. He just knew that it would be – and confirmation of that knowledge would only serve to add further credence to his theory that he really was going insane.

"Look, I got her here, didn't I? She's gonna be okay. So if one of you will just come outside and tell this damned cop…"

The accursed voice continued to assail Jesse's ears, but he couldn't flee from where he stood. His legs felt as though they were about to give out on him as it was. At another time it might have been funny, but Jesse felt more like crying than laughing. His dream had become reality and there was no logical explanation that his tortured mind could come up with.

The cab driver – who he had never met, because he had driven into work on that fateful day – had finally been granted his wish. He had picked up his fare and it had been an emergency – and he had broken every speed limit in getting to the hospital, just as he had always wished he could.

Everything that he had lamented to Jesse on that journey – that had apparently never happened – was being repeated to the hapless nurse on duty.


Amanda was smiling as she walked down the corridor and it felt like the first time she had smiled in what was turning out to be a trying day. She still had her nagging concerns over Jesse – Steve's theory about Bob's had done little to ease that – and two of her assistants had gone sick, leaving her with a heavier workload than normal. Then she had taken a break and had just happened to be on reception when the excitable cab driver had blustered in with his 'emergency' fare.

The woman that he brought in was heavily pregnant but she wasn't in immediate danger of giving birth – as the man's urgency had suggested. Amanda had been on hand to ensure that she was taken care of and had then had her ear well and truly bent about a cab driver's lot.

But she also realised that his car was his living and he couldn't afford to pick up a citation. After all, he had only been trying to help – even if he had relished providing that help a little too much. She had been the one to go out and talk to the irate traffic cop and if she had told a little white lie as to exactly how dire the emergency was, she didn't carry it on her conscience. The man wasn't a doctor – although he did have a healthy opinion on medical matters – he had no way of knowing that the birth wasn't imminent. Her reward had been the offer of a free cab journey whenever she needed it. 'Just ask for Ted; car four-five' he had told her, doffing his cap.

The entire episode couldn't help but remind her of her own less than orthodox childbirth experience. Jesse had delivered her son, CJ, in the back of his car at the roadside. It had been some years ago now and she was able to look back and smile. But, at the time, it had been a truly frightening experience. CJ was her first child and she had wanted everything to be perfect. Jesse, still an intern at the time, had been easily as frightened as she was – if not more so – but he had pulled through and shown the first signs of the skilled and dedicated doctor that he was to become.

When she had told him that she was going to name her child after him – the J standing for Jesse – he had been inordinately proud, if somewhat overenthusiastic. She smiled in fond exasperation at the memory. She had known that Jesse was a highly intelligent young man, but even she had been amazed by the amount of 'famous names' he had come up with who had taken their middle names.

Then she rounded a corner and came to a sudden standstill – her smile falling from her face.

Jesse, whose antics had so entertained her thoughts just moments before, was leaning against a wall with his eyes tightly closed and looking as though he was on the verge of passing out. Worry quickly broke her shock-induced paralysis and she rushed over to where he stood.

"Jesse? What is it? What's wrong?" He looked as though he'd just had the shock of his life – or received devastatingly bad news – and her thoughts instantly turned to Mark. "Jesse, what's happened?"

For a moment it seemed that he hadn't heard her and she grasped hold of his arm, her fingers unconsciously tightening as her worry increased a thousand fold. Then suddenly – and accompanied by a startled gasp – Jesse's eyes shot open. His gaze flitted wildly around the corridor for a few seconds before coming to rest on Amanda's concerned features. He blinked at her – looking like a man who had just awoken from a long sleep – and utter confusion shone from his eyes.

"A… Amanda..?"

"Jesse, can you tell me what happened?" Amanda's heart was still beating at what felt like twice its normal rate – and her friend's odd behaviour was doing little to calm her down. "Is it… Is it Mark?"

"Mark?" Jesse blinked again, before squeezing his eyes shut and shaking his head as though trying to clear it. "No, I… I don't know what happened…"

"Jesse?" Her concern switched back to its original source – the man who was almost swaying on his feet before her. "Can you tell me what's wrong?"

The young doctor fought down the bitter laughter that threatened to escape his lips. That was the one thing that he couldn't do.

The silence was dragging on way too long and Jesse knew that it was up to him to break it. Amanda was looking at him with open concern, and he tried to find a convenient lie – to take that worry away. He summoned a half-smile.

"I'm okay. I just… I just felt a little dizzy." It was feeble and, if he had been in the pathologist's shoes, then he wouldn't have believed it for a second. Amanda's expression changed to one of open scepticism.

"You don't look okay," she admonished him. "Jesse, why can't you tell me what's going on? You're constantly exhausted, you look like death warmed over. If you're sick…"

"I'm not," he hurriedly protested. "Honestly, Amanda. I've just… I've not been sleeping too well…"

Amanda smiled thinly. It wasn't much, but it was progress. "You do look pale, honey," she told him, pushing a little harder. "Maybe you should go home."

"No!" Panic suddenly flooded through him at the very thought of returning to his apartment. It wasn't safe there. No matter how hard he tried to rationalise the strange things that had been happening to him – no matter how much he wanted to believe that it had all been down to his imagination – his reaction had been one of pure instinct and his instincts told him that his apartment, his home, was no longer a place of sanctuary or security. Amanda was looking at him strangely and he sought some way to rationalise his outburst. "I… I can't go home," he continued more calmly – though his voice still shook. "I have to work…"

"Jesse, you're in no state to be treating people. You're not well yourself." She used her grip on his arm to ease him away from the wall. "At least let somebody take a look at you."

"I'm fine, Amanda." Jesse offered her a reassuring smile, but could see that she was still far from convinced. "Honestly, I… I'll get some coffee and… I'll be fine."

As much as she wished she could, Amanda couldn't force Jesse to talk to her. He kept insisting that there was nothing wrong – even though that was clearly a lie – and eventually she had run out of excuses to delay him from going back to work.

She watched through narrowed eyes as he made his way back down the corridor. He no longer looked quite so unsteady on his feet and, to anyone who didn't know him well, he seemed almost back to his old self – a little subdued, maybe, but nothing that a restorative boost of caffeine wouldn't cure. Amanda, of course, didn't count herself among that number and she definitely knew that there was something wrong.

She thought back to their brief and awkward conversation – at the way genuine panic had flared in Jesse's eyes when she had mentioned something as innocuous as him going home. Could that be where the trouble lay? She mused silently. Was Jesse having problems at home? It hardly seemed a likely solution. Her young friend lived alone and wasn't even currently in a relationship. It was also highly unlikely that he'd be having trouble with his neighbours. Jesse never spent a huge amount of time at his apartment – using it mostly just for sleeping in – and, though he could be prone to over-exuberance, it wasn't as though he had any noisy hobbies. He wasn't the type to have music blasting out until the early hours.

Maybe somebody had moved in who did exactly that and was thus preventing Jesse from getting enough sleep. But, if that were the case, then why did he not just tell her? Amanda shook her head as her friend disappeared from view. She wasn't simply going to let matters lie but, aside from keeping an eye on him and offering help should he need it, there was very little that she could do.

TBC…