Disclaimer: As in part one.

Author's notes: Sorry for the delay in posting this chapter, but a horrid little thing called work got in the way! Hope it's worth the wait!

VICTIMS

(PART SEVEN)

Steve slammed shut the door of the beach house, then leaned against it and took several deep breaths, trying to calm himself down.

"Damn that man," he cursed, unconsciously echoing his father's own words about Philip Morton.

It was late. After his visit to Morton's apartment, Steve had gone back to the hospital and spent hours questioning everybody who'd been on duty on Jesse's floor of the hospital that day. He still had no idea how Morton had managed to switch the medication.

"I take it you've spoken to Morton, then?" Mark asked, looking up from the book he'd been reading.

Considering the hour, Steve was surprised to find him still up. But then, his dad's insatiable curiosity probably wouldn't have let him sleep anyway.

"Oh, I spoke to him alright and, of course, he denied everything." Steve flung himself onto the couch. "I know that he did it. I just can't prove it."

"It was always going to be difficult. Even if you did find Morton's prints on anything, they'd have had every right to be there."

" Well, I'm not just going to let him get away with it."

"He won't. From what Jesse was saying, he sounds desperate and desperate men make mistakes."

Steve was prevented from answering by the sudden ringing of the telephone. Mark got up to answer it.

"Hello..? Now calm down, Jesse... Tell me exactly what he said... Jesse! Slow down, you'll do yourself no good by getting all worked up... Take a couple of deep breaths... That's it... Now start from the beginning..."

Steve frowned as he listened to the one-sided conversation. Nothing in Mark's responses gave him any clue as to what had got his friend so agitated. He could only wait, in growing frustration, until his dad put the phone down.

"What's happened?"

"Morton's called Jesse." Mark's tone was grim. "This time he's threatened to hurt Bethany if I go to the Medical Council."

Steve looked as shocked as Mark felt. Hurting Jesse was one thing, but he couldn't understand how anybody could target a defenceless child.

"I'll call the hospital," Mark continued. "We'll keep security on Bethany's room at all times, until we can resolve this."

"It wouldn't do any harm to keep somebody with Jesse either." Steve put in. "There's no telling what Morton will try next."

*****

Philip Morton wasn't a stupid man, he had qualified as a doctor after all. He knew that no amount of threats were going to salvage his career, but he couldn't just sit back and do nothing. So he sat in darkness, in his apartment, thinking over his plan of action.

What he'd done to Jesse had been a mistake, but he truly believed that he was being over-harshly punished for it. After all, it had been Benson Labs who'd manufactured the drug, they who had wrapped it up in different packaging and called it something new. Of course, they would receive their fair share of punishment, but Morton couldn't see why he had to be dragged down with them.

It was all Mark Sloan's fault. Morton had seen first hand the man's compassion and ability to forgive. Why couldn't he extend some of that compassion to one doctor who'd made a mistake?

Because of Jesse Travis. If it hadn't been that particular patient who'd had such an adverse reaction to the myzephomine, then he wouldn't be in this situation now. He probably would still have been fired, but Sloan would have calmed down eventually and not reported him. It would have been hard to get another job, but not impossible. One mistake, that was all he'd made.

Morton got up and began to pace. His career was over, he didn't doubt that for a minute, but he wasn't going to go down without a fight and he certainly wasn't going to go down without taking Mark Sloan with him.

*****

The rest of the night passed uneventfully, but Jesse still found sleep elusive. He was aware of a security guard appearing outside his room and was surprised by how grateful he felt for that. It wouldn't prevent any more phone calls, but at least Morton wouldn't be paying him another visit. He also knew that Bethany would be receiving the same treatment and that helped to ease his worry somewhat.

Jesse drifted in and out of sleep, his mind too active to allow him to relax completely. He was, therefore, still exhausted when Mark called by to visit him the next morning. The older doctor looked at his friend, noting the dark circles under his eyes.

"Why didn't you ask for something to help you sleep?" He admonished him gently.

"How's Bethany?" Jesse countered, trying to evade the issue.

"She's fine." Mark sighed and sat down. "Jesse, your system has been under an awful lot of strain these past few days. You have to rest, if you're ever going to get better."

"I'm okay." Jesse felt mildly guilty. Mark had enough worries, without him adding to them. "I'll sleep later. I promise."

"Make sure you do. So, aside from the obvious lack of sleep, how do you feel?"

"A little better." He eased himself into a more upright position. "Still sore and it feels kinda tight across my chest."

"Those steroids put your heart under a great deal of strain," Mark explained. "Add that to the surgery you underwent and it's hardly surprising. The discomfort should pass but, if it gets any worse, let me know."

"I will."

"Alright. Well, it looks like your breakfast is here." He glanced round as the door opened. "So I'll leave you to it. Steve should be here soon."

"He said he wanted to talk to me." Mark couldn't help but notice the slight trepidation in his tone.

"It will be alright, Jesse. Trust me."

*****

It was mid-morning when Steve called in to see Jesse. He didn't know exactly what he intended to say, only that he had to say something. His terror from the day before was still sharp in his mind, as was his guilt when he'd truly thought that Jesse had attempted suicide.

For a brief moment, as he stood by Jesse's bed, Steve felt strangely awkward. It wasn't a feeling he was used to having, especially around his best friend.

"Steve, won't you sit down?" Jesse couldn't keep the nervousness out of his voice. This would be their first proper conversation since he'd made those terrible accusations.

Steve sat on the proffered chair and looked down at his hands. He didn't even know where to start. It was Jesse who broke the silence.

"I'm sorry," he said, quietly.

Steve looked up at him. He wanted, needed, to be perfectly honest with his friend. When he spoke, his tone was subdued.

"So am I."

"Steve, you have no reason to apologise." Jesse was genuinely surprised by his words. "What I said to you..."

"Jess, please. I have to say this." Jesse shut up. "I am truly sorry that I couldn't nail Gianni De Marco after what happened to Chloe. I know how much it meant to you."

"But I didn't mean what I said. I was sick, the drugs..."

"I know, but a part of me can't help but thinking that, in a way, you were right."

"No."

"Yes, Jesse." Steve looked at him sincerely. "Nobody was punished for what happened to Chloe and Kenny Parker. Nobody was even arrested. That was bound to be painful for you, after what you went through. It might seem to you that I didn't try hard enough, but I did, Jess. You have to believe that I did."

"I do." The young doctor was almost in tears, horrified that he had caused his friend so much anguish.

"And then, when Kim Ho shot you," Steve continued, still staring intently at him. "I never even thought about De Marco. I never considered that you might have been completely disillusioned with the entire justice system. I just waded in regardless, trying to help the man who shot you to walk free. That's why I need to apologise."

"Steve, I do understand why you're doing it." Jesse swallowed, fighting to keep his tears at bay. "But I can't help you and I need you to understand my reasons for that."

"I do, Jesse. Now I've taken the time to step back and think about it, I do and I don't blame you for it."

Those words produced a smile from Jesse, but that smile soon faded when Steve looked away again.

"There's one other thing." Steve forced himself to look back up. "Jesse, you have to tell me, honestly and I mean absolutely honestly, do you really believe that I ever have, or would, take a bribe?"

"Steve, I..." Jesse was losing his battle against his tears. "The moment I said those words, I regretted them. I know that you could never do something like that. Even with the drugs in my system, I knew I'd done something terrible. That's why I was... the way I was when Amanda found me the other day."

Steve nodded, remembering how Amanda had described his condition.

"All I could think of was how much I'd hurt you." Tears were now streaming openly down the young doctor's face. "I'd have cut my tongue out, if I'd been able. Please, Steve, you have to forgive me. You have to believe that I never meant it. I swear, I never meant it. Please."

Steve looked at Jesse, at his unmistakable anguish, at his tears and at his genuine remorse. This was his best friend, his emotions laid bare, putting himself through Hell because he wanted to preserve that friendship. Steve found that the only thing he could do was forgive him.

"Of course I do, Jesse." He moved onto the bed and put one arm around the distraught young man. "Of course I forgive you."

*****

LA was a big city and, like any big city, it had its fair share of bad guys. If you knew where to look, there was always someone who, for the right price, would be willing to do just about anything. Philip Morton knew where to look.

Even though he'd not worked at Community General for very long, he'd learned most of the haunts frequented by off-duty staff. And, with the money left over from the Benson Labs pay-off, it was easy for him to persuade some of those less desirable citizens to eavesdrop for him.

It was that easy to keep up with the goings on inside the hospital and he never once put himself at risk. The second part of his plan, however, required a much more hands-on approach and quite a lot more help.

Morton took time out to visit a hairdresser. He was going to have to enter the hospital again and he didn't want to be instantly recognised. After that, some more money changed hands and a couple of kids were quite willing to steal a few certain items for him.

Recruiting for the final, and most crucial, part of his scheme was somewhat more difficult. He would have to place his trust in those people and that was always a problem when you were dealing with criminals. It was also a whole lot more expensive, but he eventually found enough people who he was relatively confident wouldn't let him down.

He had to promise them all extra money if they did what he asked, although that was one promise he had no intention of keeping. If everything went as planned the following day, he didn't even have to worry about those people coming looking for him.

*****

That afternoon, Mark was in his office, catching up on some paperwork, when there was a light knock at the door. A nurse poked her head in.

"Doctor Sloan? If you're not too busy, there's someone here who would like to see you."

"By all means." Mark took his glasses off, as the nurse escorted a small, Chinese woman through the door.

"Hello, I'm Doctor Sloan," he greeted her, after the nurse had left them alone. "What can I do for you?"

"Doctor Sloan, my name is Wendy Ho and I believe that you have my great-granddaughter here."

"Please, call me Mark." He reached across the desk to shake her hand. "You're Bethany's great-grandmother?"

"So that's what they called her," the woman answered sadly. "You know, until you said that, I didn't even know that they'd had a girl."

"Oh, that's terrible. Are you not close to your family?"

"I used to be, until poor Maria got pregnant. That tore our family apart. Can you believe that my son kicked his own child out onto the streets? We have barely spoken since that day."

"I'm sorry." Family rifts were one thing that Mark truly could empathise with. "But you're here now. How did you find her?"

"My no-good son called me to tell me about Kim being arrested. To gloat more than anything, ranting about how he knew that he'd turn out to be trouble. I doted on Kim and he just did it to get at me. Sometimes I wonder how I ever gave birth to such a monster."

"I'm afraid the old adage is true. You just can't choose your family." Mark smiled sympathetically, then stood up. "Now, how would you like to see your great-granddaughter?"

*****

Morton was busy half the night, making sure that everything was in place for his big moment. He did make sure that he got a few hours sleep, but was up with the dawn the next day. There was still an awful lot to do, including ensuring that all of his recruits were where they were supposed to be.

None of them had let him down and the lure of more money prevented them from questioning some of the dubious tasks he had set for them. Then he took two of them to one side and, with the promise of an extra bonus, easily persuaded them to continue working for him for the entire day.

Once that was achieved, Morton returned to his apartment to get changed and, shortly after midday, he strolled into the hospital as though he had every right to be there, ready with his excuses should anyone challenge him immediately. To his profound relief, nobody so much as looked twice at him.

He took the stairs up to Jesse's floor, not wanting to risk prolonged exposure to any one person in an elevator, then he hid in a closet, not far from his target's room and settled down to wait.

*****

All Hell broke loose later that afternoon. It began when Mark was called down to the paediatric ward. He'd left instructions to be summoned immediately if anything out of the ordinary happened. Monitors suddenly refusing to function definitely classed as out of the ordinary.

Instantly fearing for Bethany, he hurried down there. He knew there was no way that Morton should have been able to get at her, but the man had already proved to be quite ingenious.

His fears were compounded when he saw no sign of the security guard who should have been watching over her. A technician said something to him about the monitors being tampered with, but Mark paid him little attention as he rushed to the baby's side. Bethany seemed to be sleeping peacefully, but he knew better than to be fooled by appearances.

If anything happened to her, he would be responsible. Morton's fight was with him and it was wholly unfair that he should use a child as a weapon. Mark knew that he wouldn't be able to stop worrying until he had run every test available on her.

*****

Elsewhere in the hospital, the sleep that Jesse had missed out on the night before had finally caught up with him. He stirred slightly when there was some sort of commotion outside, but he truly was exhausted and the noise didn't even cause him to open his eyes.

He was rudely awakened a few moments later, when a hand was placed over his mouth and he felt a slight prick in his arm. Jesse's eyes shot open, then widened in fear, as he saw through the disguise and recognised Philip Morton.

The man had died his hair ginger and was now wearing glasses, but the sneer on his face was unmistakable. In one hand he held an empty syringe. Jesse tried to move, to hit the call button, but his limbs felt heavy and his head was swimming with drowsiness. Morton removed his hand from his mouth.

"What did you give me?" Jesse murmured and was surprised by how weak his own voice sounded.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" the other man retorted. "Was it more myzephomine? Are you gonna go all psycho again? Maybe another overdose. Maybe even enough to kill you this time."

Jesse glanced towards the doors, wondering where the Hell security had got to.

"Oh, don't worry," Morton sneered. "We're not going to be disturbed. There's enough going on out there to keep everyone nice and busy for quite a while. It's just you and me."

"What do you want?" The young doctor's words were slurred by now.

"Revenge, Jesse. Mark Sloan has ruined my life and now I'm going to ruin his. And you're just the man to help me."

TO BE CONTINUED...