Disclaimer: See Part One.
Author's notes: Continued thanks for the reviews. You guys are great.
VICTIMS
(PART FOUR)
Jesse lay on his bed, staring at the door, wondering what had just happened. He hadn't meant to say those things to his friend and he certainly didn't mean them. Steve was a great cop and had always been there for him. He owed him his life, on more than one occasion.
But when he had started trying to defend Kim Ho, Jesse had been hurt and he'd wanted to hurt Steve in return. Kenny Parker's suicide still weighed heavily on his mind and it galled him to think that nobody had ever been punished for what that man went through. He knew that it wasn't Steve's fault, but he'd needed to strike out at someone and the detective had been the nearest target.
A part of him was still angry, furious that his best friend would choose to side with his assailant. The rest of him knew that Steve would have his reasons and, if he'd only taken the time to listen, he would have explained those reasons to him.
Why should he have to? he thought, suddenly finding that anger was winning the battle of his mixed up emotions. If it was Mark lying here, he wouldn't be doing this. He'd throw the book at him.
Jesse was surprised to find just how bitter he still felt. He'd been shot, had almost died. Was it too much to ask for his friends to stand by him?
Such thoughts were still chasing themselves around Jesse's head when Mark entered the room a few minutes later.
"How do you feel?" he asked, his tone grave.
Jesse bit his lip and looked away. Now the person that he trusted and respected more than anyone else in the world knew about his lack of rationality, of compassion. He found that he couldn't answer.
"Steve told me that you were... upset."
"Did he tell you why?" Jesse ignored the hesitation in Mark's words. He knew that "upset" was not the word that Steve had used.
"No. And he didn't tell me why he was so angry when he left here."
"I just can't understand why Steve's doing this to me." Jesse's tone was plaintive and Mark was disconcerted to see tears in the young man's eyes. "Why does he want him to walk free after what he did?"
"He's thirteen years old," Mark reminded him gently. "What else did Steve tell you about him?"
"I know he said it was an accident, but I can't believe that. If he really didn't mean to shoot me, why did he then rob me and go off to spend my money, instead of getting help?"
"Do you know what he was buying, when he tried to use..."
"I don't want to know!" Jesse interrupted harshly. "It doesn't matter if he was buying medicine for his sick old mother. He left me to die!"
Mark recoiled from the fury emanating from his normally placid friend. Something was definitely wrong here, something more than just what was happening with Kim Ho.
"Just answer me one question, Mark," Jesse pressed on. "If he hadn't been arrested, if he hadn't been dumb enough to use my credit card, would he have given a Damn about what happened to me? Would he have even cared if I'd lived or died?"
"He has asked after you and he's glad that you're alright." At least physically, Mark added to himself. "But at the time, he had other priorities."
"Other priorities," Jesse snorted. "What could be so important..."
"Namely his baby daughter."
Mark watched sadly as all the colour drained from his friend's face and his look of anger was replaced by horror.
"Christ, Mark." His voice was a harsh whisper. "You said he was only thirteen years old."
"He is. And his girlfriend is fourteen." There was infinite compassion in Mark's tone. "Baby Bethany is just coming up to three months. Jesse, Bethany is downstairs in paediatrics. She has leukaemia."
"Oh, no."
Jesse's fragile hold on his emotions finally crumbled. Mark watched in silence as the young doctor's face crumpled and the tears that he'd fought so hard to keep in check spilled down his cheeks. Still without speaking, Mark sat down next to him and took him into his arms, holding him as he wept.
*****
When the flood of tears finally stopped, Mark didn't immediately release his hold on the young man. He gave him time to compose himself, knowing that he would be needlessly embarrassed by his outburst.
"I'm sorry," Jesse muttered eventually, but still making no attempt to pull away from Mark.
"You've nothing to be sorry for. I know that must have been a shock for you. I was just trying to help you understand. Maria is going to need Kim with her, if she's going to get through this."
"I guess."
"So will you do it?" Mark pulled back so he could look at Jesse. "Will you put in a good word for him?"
"Steve never asked me to do that," Jesse pulled away and his gaze dropped to the blankets. Again, Mark wondered just what had happened between the two friends.
"Well, Steve's planning to speak to the DA, to ask for leniency, but he'll have a better chance of success if you'll speak on Kim's behalf as well."
"I guess."
Unseen by Jesse, who was still focussed on the bedclothes, Mark studied him frowningly. Jesse seemed to be on an emotional roller coaster, ranging from his frightening fury, to this profoundly disturbing lethargy. Not to mention the crying fit in between.
Mark instantly recognised the symptoms. He would have noticed sooner had he not been so caught up in Kim and Maria. He reached out to touch Jesse's shoulder, but the young man didn't even glance up at him.
"I need to speak to Doctor Morton. Will you be alright?"
All he got in response was a nod and a shrug.
*****
Steve was nowhere in sight when Mark exited Jesse's room and for that he was truly sorry. He really wanted to talk to his son, to find out what had happened between him and Jesse and maybe go some way as to explaining why. Now, though, that would have to wait. Jesse's health had to be his priority.
"Is Doctor Morton still here?" he asked the duty nurse. He had his suspicions about what was happening and was barely able to keep his anger out of his voice.
"No, I'm sorry. He's working nights."
"Then I need to see his notes on Doctor Travis as a matter of urgency." He accompanied the nurse to her desk. "Oh and I don't want Jesse having any more medication until I say so."
"But Doctor Morton..."
Mark silenced her with a glare, as he pulled Jesse's file. He found what he was looking for in no time. Unlike the notes on Jesse's chart, the handwriting in his file was perfectly legible. Perhaps Philip Morton had thought that not even Mark Sloan would go through files marked as confidential.
As far as Mark was concerned, his methods were irrelevant. They could argue the ethics at some other time. At least he had his answer. Mark looked again at the information he'd uncovered and his face tightened with anger.
"Damn that man," he muttered.
*****
Amanda went to visit Jesse that lunchtime. She knocked lightly on the door before poking her head in, a bright smile on her face. What she saw momentarily stopped her dead in her tracks.
Jesse was sitting on his bed, hugging his knees to his chest, with tears streaming down his cheeks. Overcoming her shock at seeing him like that, Amanda rushed over to him.
"Oh Jesse, honey," she sat next to him and put on arm around his shoulders. "Whatever's wrong?"
Jesse didn't even acknowledge her. He was rocking slightly and his eyes were unfocussed, staring off into the distance.
"Jesse, please." Again, Amanda tried to get through to him. "Sweetheart, tell me what's wrong."
But there was still no sign that Jesse had even heard her. Amanda looked towards the door, desperate to fetch help, but unwilling to leave her friend alone in such a state. The problem was solved for her in no time, as Mark entered the room, looking grim.
"Mark, thank God," she sighed, her relief unmistakable. "He was like this when I got here."
"It's alright, Amanda, I know what's wrong with him. I'm going to have to get him sedated, then I'll explain."
"Stop talking about me like I'm not here!" Without warning, Jesse had come out of his stupor and began to rant at them. "You're always doing that. You always gang up on me, making me do things I don't wanna do. I bet you wish he'd killed me."
Amanda had instinctively tightened her grip on the young man and she murmured soothing words to him, as Mark approached him with a hypodermic needle. She kept this up as the sedative began to take effect, then waited until his breathing became slow and regular before lowering him back onto the bed.
"What's going on, Mark?" she asked, when she was sure that Jesse was asleep.
"You know when Jesse picked up that infection? Well, for some reason, Doctor Morton chose to prescribe him myzephomine."
"I've never heard of it."
"No, you wouldn't have. It's new to the market under that name. It was withdrawn last year under a different name, due to adverse side effects, including mood swings and severe depression, leading to an unacceptable number of suicides."
"My God."
"I knew that it had been re-launched, but I never knew that it was in stock at this hospital. I'll make Damned sure it isn't from now on."
"But what was Doctor Morton thinking? He must have known of the dangers."
"I'm sure he did. But I also know that Benson Labs has invested an awful lot of money into this project. I've got a feeling that would include generous incentives for doctors willing to run the drugs trials."
"That's terrible. You can't just experiment with people's lives like that. Poor Jesse."
"Well, the good news is that he's been taking it for less than two days. I dread to think what would have happened if he'd taken the whole course."
"What are you going to do?" Amanda asked, looking down at her sleeping friend. At that moment, she couldn't see any good news in Jesse's situation.
"I'm going to keep him under for a while." Mark answered, following her gaze. "At least long enough for the drugs to start working their way out of his system. Then I'm going to have a long talk with Philip Morton.
*****
Mark was exhausted by the time he got home that night. It had been a traumatic day. His confrontation with Philip Morton had been brief, but intense. Mark had effectively sacked him from Community General and warned him that his conduct would be investigated by the Medical Council. He fully expected the man never to practise medicine again.
He didn't like having to do that, but Jesse had suffered greatly at his hands. Even now, his young friend was still sleeping under the influence of sedatives.
But, no matter how tired he was, Mark knew that his day was not yet over. There was one more thing he had to do.
"Steve, can you come up here?" he called and was rewarded moments later by the sound of his son's footsteps on the stairs.
Mark sat down on the couch and waited until Steve had sat next to him.
"Son, I need to talk to you about Jesse." Mark was dismayed to see Steve's face cloud over at the mention of his friend's name. "I need you to tell me exactly what happened at the hospital today."
"I don't want to talk about it."
"Steve, please. It is important."
Steve didn't answer for a long moment. In truth, he was surprised by just how much Jesse's words had hurt him. It didn't matter that they had been spoken in anger, it was the fact that they had been spoken at all. He had thought that he and Jesse were best friends, but if the doctor could really think such things of him, then maybe it was time to re-evaluate that friendship.
"He accused me of taking bribes." Steve looked at his dad and was unable to keep the hurt out of his eyes.
"Oh no." Mark closed his eyes briefly. "Steve, you have to understand that none of this is Jesse's fault. He was prescribed a drug that..."
"It doesn't matter." Steve spoke softly and kept his gaze fixed on the carpet.
"What? I can see that you're still angry with him." Mark leaned forward intently. "But Jesse had no control of his emotions. The mood swings, the depression, the irrational anger, they were all side-effects of the drug. He didn't know what he was saying. Give him the chance to apologise."
"I don't want an apology. What I want is for him never to have said it."
"It's too late for that, son. Jesse's going to know that he's hurt you and he's really going to hate himself for it. He's been through a lot and he doesn't need this on top of everything else. At least talk to him. Please."
"That's just the problem," Steve sighed. "I don't know if I can."
"Steve..."
"Don't you see? This has nothing to do with a bad reaction to some drugs. It's Jesse we're talking about here and he would never say something like that, no matter what." He looked at Mark with infinite sadness. "Not unless some part of him, however small, believed it was true."
Steve ended the conversation then by getting up and going back downstairs, closing the door firmly behind him. Mark stared after him in shocked silence, wondering how on Earth he was going to resolve this.
TO BE CONTINUED...