Disclaimer: Same as in Part One!
Author's notes: Thanks for the positive reviews, feedback is always appreciated and is a genuine inspiration. Welcome to part two and I hope you enjoy it just as much.
VICTIMS
(PART TWO)
Over the next two days, Steve found himself growing increasingly frustrated, as he began the search for whoever had shot Jesse. He knew that he had little chance of finding the man in a city the size of LA, not unless the gunman slipped up, but he felt the need to keep on trying, even though he had precious little to go on.
It wasn't even his case, he was assigned to homicide after all, but he constantly harangued his colleagues in the robbery division, spoke to all of his own informants and chased up any half-leads that came his way.
His Captain wasn't a stupid man and he noticed almost immediately what was happening, but to begin with, he was content to let Steve get on with it. He was a seasoned police officer and he understood friendship and loyalty. So long as Steve's extra-curricular activities didn't affect his work, the Captain was happy to let him carry on the search for the mystery gunman.
Steve was aware of this and appreciated it greatly, but that still didn't help to ease his mounting frustration as every lead he got turned into a dead end.
*****
At the end of his second day of fruitless searching, Steve called by the hospital. He felt irrationally guilty about his lack of results, knowing that Jesse would in no way blame him for not having caught his assailant. Still, he couldn't help but feeling that he had somehow let his friend down.
Jesse took one look at the detective's face and knew that he had no further news on the investigation. In his own way, Jesse too was feeling guilty. He'd really tried to remember everything he could about his attacker, going through reams of mug-shots and even sitting with a police artist. But he could see nothing beyond those wide and frightened eyes.
"Hey," Jesse greeted him easily, already having decided not to ask about the investigation. "I don't suppose you thought to smuggle in some ribs?"
Steve perched on the edge of the bed and lifted the lid of Jesse's supper tray. In spite of the young doctor's complaints, he'd actually eaten most of his evening meal. Steve picked up a chunk of potato and popped it into his mouth, ignoring Jesse's grimace of distaste.
"What do you need ribs for?" he asked as he chewed. "This is great."
Jesse suppressed a shudder. Hospital food was bad enough when it was warm. Only Steve Sloan could enjoy it stone cold.
"I could waste away in here," Jesse complained. "I've not exactly got a lot of weight to lose."
"No news on when you're getting out then?"
"Not for a few more days at least. I don't see why though. I could recover just as easily at home."
"Jesse, I think the idea is for you to rest. At least in here, dad can make sure that you do just that."
"But it's boring."
Steve couldn't help but laugh at Jesse's petulant tone. At that moment he sounded more like CJ than a fully qualified doctor. Throughout the visit, Jesse continued his good-natured grumbling, playing on Steve's sympathy, while the detective finished off his leftover meal.
A couple of hours later, Mark came into the room. He'd removed his white coat, ready to go home for the night, but he still insisted on giving Jesse a quick check-up before he left.
"Mark, there's really no need," Jesse tried to protest. "I've hardly had a twinge all day. In fact, I feel well enough to go home."
"Oh no, we're not going to have that argument again." Mark made a note on Jesse's chart. "You're staying here until I say you're fit to leave and that most certainly isn't just two days after being shot."
"But Mark..."
"Jesse, you are a doctor. You know all of the reasons why you can't go home, so I'm not going to stand here and discuss them with you. Get some rest, concentrate on getting well and you'll be discharged in no time."
Jesse rolled his eyes and sighed as Mark completed his lecture, but was wise enough not to argue any further. Steve grinned at him from behind his dad's back.
"Goodnight, Jess." Steve even managed to inject a smirk into his voice. "I'll call by again tomorrow. Just think, by then you'll be another day closer to going home."
Jesse waited until they had both gone before indulging himself in a huge yawn. He was still exhausted, but pride had prevented him from admitting that to his friends. In reality he knew that Mark was right and his own protestations were merely the result of boredom and a certain amount of self-pity. Mark was only doing what he himself would have done if it had been a patient of his lying there, suffering from a similar wound.
Jesse drifted off to sleep, thinking how grateful he was to have friends who cared so much about him. Besides, they were right. His recovery was progressing nicely. He would be home in no time.
*****
The problems started for Jesse later that night. The next time he returned to consciousness, it was to find himself in almost complete darkness. Night had fallen and, for a moment, he couldn't even begin to discern where he was. The residue of forgotten dreams combined with the after effects of the anaesthetic left him totally confused and more than a little afraid.
It hurt to breath and as agony, the same agony that had so rudely awakened him, tore through his chest, Jesse began to panic. All he was aware of was the pain. It was no longer so focussed on his chest, but seemed to radiate throughout his entire body. At that moment, he genuinely believed that he was dying.
Instinct and familiarity with the hospital equipment, more than luck alone, caused his flailing hand to strike the 'call' button at his bedside. Within moments the duty nurse was with him.
Jesse began to calm the instant that she touched his arm, content in the knowledge that he was no longer alone. Gradually awareness returned and he realised that he was in the hospital, recovering after being shot. Even as confused as he was, he realised that the pain was much more than he should be suffering.
"It hurts," he breathed, clawing at the nurse's arm. In the darkness he couldn't recognise her or read her name tag.
"I know, I know," the nurse soothed, not at all perturbed by the fact that it was her colleague who writhed beneath her touch. "I'll increase your medication, then I'll fetch the doctor."
Jesse nodded slowly and forced himself to relax back onto the bed. The increased dosage gradually began to take effect and the agony faded somewhat.
The nurse was only gone for a few moments before returning with a doctor in tow. As she turned the lighting level up, Jesse took a good look at the man who had come to treat him. He was in his forties, his black hair just beginning to go grey. He was also a complete stranger to Jesse.
"I don't recognise you," he murmured.
"Oh, of course not, we weren't introduced." The older doctor seemed somewhat embarrassed by this lack of etiquette. "I'm Philip Morton. I'm only here temporarily while... um..."
The man's embarrassment deepened and Jesse realised that he was looking at his own replacement. Jesse chuckled, in an attempt to put the man at ease.
"Then I guess you already know who I am."
"Yes, Doctor Travis. I... um... I only wish the circumstances were better."
"It's okay. And call me Jesse, please."
"Alright the, Jesse it is." Doctor Morton continued his examination. "The nurse tells me you were in some pain. Any difficulty breathing?"
"A little," Jesse confessed. "An infection, right?"
"Only a minor one from the looks of it. Luckily we've caught it nice and early and it's nothing that a dose of antibiotics won't clear up. You're not allergic at all?"
Jesse shook his head and cursed inwardly. So much for going home soon. Mark wouldn't let him out of his sight now. He returned his attention to Doctor Morton.
"I'm sure I don't have to tell you to take the whole course, even if you do start to feel better."
Again, Jesse merely nodded in response. He was already drifting back off to sleep.
"And I'll call by again in the morning." But by then, Doctor Morton was speaking to himself.
*****
Philip Morton kept his promise and looked in on Jesse at the end of his shift, but the young doctor was still sound asleep and the duty nurse reported no further problems.
It was much later that morning when Jesse finally awoke and, by then, Mark was back at his side.
"So, I hear you had some excitement during the night."
Jesse, still not fully awake, responded only with a blank stare. Then, slowly, those frightening events came back to him.
"I was kinda hoping I'd dreamed it," he muttered eventually.
"No such luck, my friend. Definitely an infection and that means you'll be enjoying the hospitality of Community General for a little while longer yet." Mark glanced up from the notes he'd been studying on Jesse's chart, a slight frown on his face. "I don't suppose Doctor Morton mentioned exactly what he prescribed you. I can't seem to make it out."
He showed the chart to his friend, but Jesse couldn't decipher the squiggle that had been added to his list of medication.
"No, I think he just said something about antibiotics. Sorry Mark, it's all a bit of a blur."
"Oh, it's not a problem. I'll just ask him the next time I see him. How do you feel now?"
"It's not too bad," Jesse's reply was little more than a whisper. "I was scared."
Mark stopped what he was doing and stared at Jesse, astonished by the admission. Jesse Travis was fiercely independent and never one to show weakness. Mark found that quiet confession profoundly disturbing.
"You had every right to be scared," he answered slowly, careful to mask his concern. "It must have been very painful."
Jesse merely shrugged and Mark's frown deepened. The young doctor seemed unusually listless, not his normal self at all. But, before he could investigate further, his pager sounded.
"It's Steve," he explained after he'd checked it. "I'll just be a minute. You never know, he might have some news for us."
Once again, Jesse's response showed a remarkable lack of enthusiasm. Still frowning, Mark set off to phone his son.
"Great news, dad." Steve's excitement, a marked contrast to Jesse's lethargy, even carried down the telephone. "They've got him, dad. They've caught the man who shot Jesse!"
CONTINUED IN PART THREE!!!