Disclaimer: Still at Part One
Author's notes: As always, thanks to everyone who's reviewed this. You're my inspiration!
VICTIMS
(PART SIX)
When Steve got to the hospital, he headed straight to Jesse's room, fully intending to have a long talk with his friend and at least try to clear the air between them. What he found when he got there forced him to put those plans on hold.
Jesse was sprawled across his bed, his eyes closed and his face pale. Sweat stood out on his forehead and one hand clutched at his chest.
"Oh my God, Jesse!" Steve ran over to his stricken friend. It looked like he was having a heart attack.
A quick check showed Steve that he was breathing, but his pulse was racing. Steve stabbed repeatedly at the call button. When nobody immediately came, he ran back to the door. As luck would have it, he spotted his father at the nurse's station.
"Dad! Help me! It's Jesse!"
He was back at his friend's side in an instant, with Mark not far behind him, trailing two nurses in his wake. By now, Jesse was gasping for breath and Mark quite forcefully moved Steve away from the bed.
"Give me room, son."
Steve found himself pushed to the back of the room as the team worked on Jesse. He watched silently as they fitted him with an oxygen mask and he didn't try to follow when they wheeled him out of the room.
*****
Steve sat in the now empty room, staring at nothing and fervently praying that his friend was going to be alright. There were things that he needed to say to Jesse, to try and take back some of the hurt they'd caused one another. Now he could only hope that he got the chance.
His eyes were drawn to the night-stand. There was a little plastic cup on it, the kind used to deliver pills to patients. Steve picked it up and turned it over slowly in his hands, feeling dread suddenly rise in him. He closed his eyes. If his suspicions were correct, then Jesse's latest suffering might well be his fault.
Mark found him, still sitting there, over an hour later. Steve glanced up as his dad entered the room and Mark was shocked by the raw pain on his face.
"Steve, it's okay." He moved swiftly to crouch in front of his son. "He's going to be fine."
"What happened?"
"Well, that's the part I don't really understand. Jesse has somehow ingested an overdose of a kind of steroid. Not enough to do him any lasting damage, but it must have really given him a scare."
"How can something like that happen?" Steve was still toying with the plastic cup, not knowing how to ask the question that was at the forefront of his mind.
"It can't," Mark answered frankly. "Any prescribed drugs are stringently checked before being distributed. There are safeguards in place specifically to stop this sort of accident from happening."
"Are you sure that's what it was, dad? An accident?"
"Of course it was. What else could it have been? Unless you think that someone deliberately..."
"Not someone. Jesse." The words were quietly spoken, but Mark couldn't have been more shocked if he'd screamed them at him.
"Jesse? Why would he..?" Mark was momentarily lost for words. "You mean, you think he's suicidal? Not Jesse. No, I'm sure you're wrong."
"You know he's not been himself, dad. What with those drugs messing with his head. What if he wasn't really over it? Amanda said his depression was terrifying. What if he's just been hiding it from us? Jesse would know how to get the drugs and he'd know what to take."
"I'm sorry, Steve, but I honestly can't believe that Jesse would do something like this."
"Look at the timing of it. You'd done your rounds, I was on my way to the DA's office. If I hadn't have turned around when I did..." In a sudden fit of anger, he hurled the cup across the room. "Dammit, dad! I've been so stubborn with him. I haven't seen him since we argued. I haven't even spoken to him."
"You can just stop that right now." Mark grabbed him by the shoulders. "You are in absolutely no way to blame for what happened today. If you think that your argument might have driven Jesse to this, then you're wrong. I still don't believe that he deliberately tried to hurt himself, but only he can give us the answers and he can't do that until he wakes up."
"I was so scared when I saw him like that, dad."
"I know, son. So was I. But all that matters now is that he's going to be alright. He won't wake up for some hours yet. In the meantime, don't you have an appointment with the DA?"
*****
Steve returned to the hospital later that afternoon and with mixed feelings following his meeting. The DA, Morgan Woodward, had been surprisingly sympathetic when he'd explained the reason for his visit. However, she had also been unable to make any promises.
The main stumbling block had been the fact that Kim Ho had no recognised permanent address. The old house where they had found Maria and Bethany had been little more than a squat.
The second problem was that Kim's parents refused to take responsibility for him. Welfare officers had managed to track down both sets of parents, but the reports from their interviews made grim reading. Maria's parents had completely disowned her, the moment they'd found out that she was pregnant and Kim's were no better.
Still, Morgan did agree with Steve's belief that a custodial sentence would be counter-productive. Steve had left the office, feeling mildly optimistic, following her promise to "look into it further".
When he got back to Community General, he met up with his dad at the front desk.
"How's Jesse?" he asked.
"Much better. We're still keeping an eye on him, but there shouldn't be any further complications."
"Is he awake yet?"
"He'll be coming around soon. I'm just on my way to see him now." He glanced at his son. "So how did you get on?"
"About as well as can be expected, under the circumstances."
They walked towards the elevators together and Steve filled him in on the details of his meeting.
*****
For Jesse, waking up was a painful experience. His chest hurt, his throat hurt and his head was pounding. He forced his eyes open and found Steve and Mark looking down at him.
"How are you feeling?" Mark asked, reaching for the ever-present ice chips.
"Not so good," Jesse answered honestly. Now his stomach had started churning to add to his misery. "What happened?"
"We were hoping you could tell us that." Jesse could see real concern on Steve's face and frowned as his memory gradually returned.
"Morton!" He gasped suddenly. "He was in my room. He threatened me and he must have... I don't know. What did he do to me?"
"You were given an overdose of steroids, Jess." Mark explained, sparing a triumphant glance towards his son. He'd known there had to be another explanation, other than his suicide theory. "Do you know how he did that?"
"He just talked, mostly." Jesse shook his head. "Then he grabbed hold of my wrist and told me that I had to convince you not to report him to the Medical Council."
"Then what?"
"He left, then the nurse came in with my pills. Then I woke up here."
"The nurse," Steve put in. "Do you remember who she was?"
Jesse squeezed his eyes shut as he sought to remember, but he'd not really paid too much attention to her. He shook his head helplessly.
"It doesn't matter, we can soon find out that information," Mark frowned. "Morton must have somehow switched your medication."
"He tried to kill me?"
"No, it wasn't a lethal dose, but it could have been very nasty if Steve hadn't found you when he did."
"You went to my room?" Jesse seemed surprised by that statement.
"Yeah, I wanted to talk to you about something." Steve didn't elaborate further, not wanting to cause his friend any more distress. "But don't worry about it now. I gotta go."
"Go where?" Mark asked, as he stood up.
"To find Philip Morton."
*****
Steve stormed up the stairs to Morton's apartment and hammered on the door. The disgraced doctor answered almost immediately and Steve went in without waiting to be invited.
"Lieutenant Sloan." Morton seemed genuinely surprised to see him. "What can I do for you?"
"You can start by telling me how you thought you were going to get away with poisoning Jesse."
"Poisoning Jesse?" Again there was that apparent surprise, but Steve wasn't fooled for a second. "Seeing as I've already had this confrontation with your father, I presume that you're not talking about the myzephomine."
"I'm talking about an overdose of steroids."
"And you think that I had something to do with it? That's a very serious accusation, Lieutenant." Morton's smile was predatory. "I do hope you have plenty of proof."
"You were at the hospital today."
"I was indeed. In case you're forgetting, I did used to work there. And, as you know, I was also recently fired. I had to pick some things up. Oh, I also wanted to apologise to Doctor Travis."
"So you were in his room." Steve was bluffing. He knew that he didn't have one shred of evidence, only Jesse's word. He thought ruefully of the pill container that he'd flung across the room. It was too much to hope that it might still be there, or that it might yield any clues.
"It would be difficult to apologise if I weren't in the room," Morton smirked. "And, before you ask, he was fine when I left him."
"He said that you threatened him."
"Did he now? Well, that's understandable. He is still getting over his little... reaction to the myzephomine." Steve opened his mouth to respond, but Morton pressed on, not giving him the chance. "You saw what he was like. The mood swings, the depression. And you can add paranoia to that list as well. It's closely related to his other symptoms. Ask your father, he knows."
"He's over that now."
"Apparently he isn't. I'd keep an eye on him, if I were you. People have been known to become suicidal..."
"You did that to him!" Steve couldn't help himself. He grabbed hold of Morton's shirt-front and slammed him back against the wall. It took all of his restraint not to draw his gun.
"I've admitted that I gave him myzephomine and I've been punished for it." Morton didn't seem at all phased by the violent outburst. "What I did might have been unethical, but it was by no means illegal. Now, I suggest you let go of me, before I decide that I have to call my lawyer."
Steve knew that he was beaten and grudgingly released the man.
"I'm going to pretend that never happened. I really don't want to have to call your Captain." Morton was openly gloating now. "I know that it's just because you're worried about Jesse. He's lucky to have a friend like you."
"I'll get the proof."
"No you won't, because there is none to get. Now, leave my apartment and don't come back, or I will file a complaint against you."
Steve forced himself to bite down on his anger when, in truth, he really wanted to start breaking things. He paused on the threshold and turned back.
"Leave him alone, Morton." His voice was threatening. "I mean it."
"Goodbye, Lieutenant."
Morton closed the door firmly behind him and Steve was left on the landing, cursing silently to himself.
*****
The shrill ringing of a telephone dragged Jesse out of his sleep later that night. He reached out to answer it and grunted a greeting.
"Hello, Jesse. How are you today?"
Jesse felt panic race through him. It was Morton.
"What do you want?" He was instantly wide awake.
"You told Steve that I tried to kill you."
"Are you saying that you didn't?"
"Oh no," Morton chuckled softly, but completely without mirth. "That was just a warning."
"Some warning." Unconsciously, Jesse's free hand had moved to his chest. It still felt tight and hurt if he breathed too deeply.
"Not for you. The warning was for Mark Sloan. Tell him not to go to the Medical Council."
"He won't listen."
"Oh, I think he will. I got to you, Jesse. I could have easily killed you, if I'd wanted to. And, if I can get to you, I can get to anybody."
"What do you mean?" Jesse wanted to call for help, but couldn't risk Morton hanging up on him. He had to find out the madman's plans.
"I know all about his little project. You know, the baby of the guy that shot you. Maybe I'll target her next. What do you think, Jesse? What if I gave her a dose of what I gave you? Do you think she'd survive?"
"You sick..."
"Tell him, Jesse. Convince him. If he agrees, I'll even leave LA and you need never hear from me again. But I must be allowed to practise medicine."
Morton hung up then and Jesse just stared at the receiver in horrified silence. Then he pulled himself together and frantically began to dial the beach house.
TO BE CONTINUED...