Hiya! Yeah, I know, it took me a while this time, but I promise to hurry up
now.
This marks the beginning of the real cookie hell, so watch out for dwarfs.
Disclaimers still the same and thanks again to StrangePenguin for her non- stop support and all the growth I experienced through her ... Obst still rules!
Enjoy!
Doctor: "Do you ever wonder wether you´re real?"
Patient: "Oh no, sir! I know I´m not."
( "Anyone Can Whistle")
Lost deep in thoughts, Amanda strolled along the hallway the next morning, when she suddenly heard Jesse´s voice from somewhere behind the corner.
Though she couldn´t see him yet, she smiled, for he talked in his nice, polite "Leave me alone with this! What the hell should I do about it?!"- tone he used when he was tired, cranky and unnerved, all at the same time.
Coming nearer with each step, a frown built on her forehead. Strange it was - she didn´t hear another voice. Just the young doctor´s making "hm"´s and "yeah"´s as though answering to another one.
Curious, she fastened her speed, only to bump into Jesse when he himself turned around the corner.
"Ow!"
"Yeah, ow!" Amanda nodded, rubbing her aching forehead. "Why don´t you take a look at where you´re going?"
"Why don´t you?" the younger doctor shot back, a clear indication for his extremely bad mood, Amanda decided, surprised.
He didn´t even apologize, which would have been natural for Jesse under normal circumstances.
She was just about to make a remark about that, when he asked grumpily: "You hurt?"
Obviously this had to be enough on a day like this, why ever it should be a bad one for him. She was willing to find out, though.
"No. But you look a bit under the weather today. Dwarfs still at work, I assume?"
Before he could even nod, she grabbed his shoulders to directly look at him. "What´s that?"
Carefully, she brushed his hair aside to discover the slight bruise on his temple he´d tried to hide beneath it.
"Don´t tell me the dwarfs reached the surface."
He waved her hand away and winced when he accidentally touched the sore spot himself.
"Somebody broke into my apartment last night, and ..."
"Oh my ... Jess, you were attacked?"
"No," he hastened to say in a calm, yet somewhat irritated tone. "I hit my head on the door-frame and fell. That´s all, it´s nothing, really. I´m just having a bit of an headache today."
What an understatement! He was having the headache of the year and could have expected a prize for it ...
"Did you call the police?" Amanda asked, still gazing at his temple with clear concern.
For being such a smart-ass when it came to treat self-caused pain like hangovers, she was pity itself when incidents like that happened to her friends.
Jesse felt better by just seeing the worry in her face, and even managed to show her his best boyish smile as he waved again.
"Naw, what would be the point? I think there wasn´t even something missing. It probably scared him off when I fell unconscious, and he ran. My neighbor found me shortly afterwards and made sure I was okay. No big deal, really."
"You sure?"
Grinning, he nodded. "Absolute ..."
Only to be remembered not to nod ...
"Fairly sure," he concluded faintlier than before, but then smiled bravely at her once again worried look while mentioning her to go along.
"What I really need right now is coffee," he said. "You?"
After a moment´s thought about wether or not to keep on worrying, she finally nodded, and they headed side by side to the Doctor´s Lounge.
"Who were you talking to, by the way?" she demanded on their way. "Before I woke your dwarfs?"
"Oh. Don´t worry, they were already up and about," he grinned sarcastically.
"A Mr. ... Something, who was looking for the operation rooms. `nother one of these insurance guys, you know. Some jerk he was, and his voice could have waken up your patients," he added.
Though wondering about that last remark, for she hadn´t heard anything of Mr. Something, Amanda laughed softly, and patted his arm, before she opened the door to the Doctor´s Lounge for him.
"Your insurance covers insurance agents, doesn´t it?"
"It better does or I´ll change it," he replied and approached the coffee machine.
"Great," he sighed when finding it empty.
"Wait. I´ll make ..."
"No! - Uh," he added in a much softlier tone at her surprised gaze. "No offence, Amanda, but your coffee´s usually that weak, it bearly manages to leave the pot. - And ... i-it´s great for staying healthy and stuff, but I´m all over that today, so why don´t you just sit down, and I´ll ..."
Shrinking under her gaze, he turned and took care of the coffee.
"By the way," he said after a short while and sat down across her at a nearby table. "Have you finished the tests on Pinter by now? You never told me if you found anything else."
"I´ve sent some of the samples I took to Boston," Amanda replied seriously. "There´s something in his blood I can´t guess the origin of. It´s no drug, more like the remainings of a capsule, but there were no remainings of whatever you swalloe in a capsule in his blood. Nothing at all, not even pain-killers. It´s strange."
"You think this could have had something to do with him ... you know?"
She shrugged. "Dunno. Possible. Even if it doesn´t, it´s the right thing to check."
"Yeah. Right." He smiled. "Thanks."
"It´s my job," she said softly, but they both knew what they meant.
"I think the coffee´s ready," Amanda said after a few moments of a comfortable silence.
"Uh," Jesse groaned, placing one hand over his face. "Why did I have to sit down in the first place?!"
"D´you want me to get it or do I ruin it by not pouring it strong enough into the cup?" Amanda teased, but was already half way to the her feet to get it.
"Thanks," Jesse murmured gratefully, his hand still covering his face. "You know, I read something by a doctor from Boston the other week. In the july- edition of ... whatever it is we order here. I think it covered something like what you found in Pinter´s ..."
Amanda´s beeper interrupted him, and taking a glance at it, she shrugged, sighed in mock sorry and patted his head gently, before opening the door.
"Gotta go. Looks like you´ll have to help you to your coffee after all. Think you´ll manage that?"
"Not really," he replied whiningly.
"Well, good luck."
Alone, Jesse cast a longing look on the coffee still resting in it´s machine cosyly, then let his head fall down on the table, whimpering.
Life was so unfair today!
"Hey guys!" he announced his dwarfs. "Couldn´t you get the coffee? It´s enough for all of us, you know?"
As if for an answer, the phone rang, much to the benefit of the doctor´s headache. Moaning, Jesse stood, rolling his eyes at the ceiling while reaching for the receiver.
"I almost had them do it," he murmured, then answered the phone.
"Community General, this is Dr. Travis speaking. - Sarah!"
"Dr. Travis!"
Startled, Jesse whirled around from where he´d been about to unlock his car in the hospital´s parking lot.
"Oak?" he asked confusedly, when he noticed the small figure stepping out of the shadows to face him.
"Where´re you going?" she demanded.
"Ahm ... A patient called me to ... Why do you wanna know?" Suddenly feeling like it would be wiser to distrust this woman, he frowned, and made a step towards her. Almost threatening.
"Who are you? Why do you follow me?"
"Looking out for you," she replied calmly.
"You said that before. Why would I need somebody to look out for me? You don´t even know me. Who are you?!"
"Are you afraid of me?" the woman asked, not impressed by his outburst.
Taken aback, he hushed. Stared at her in awe. Yes, he suddenly found himself stating, yes, he was afraid of her. But ... why?
"Don´t become afraid of people, Jesse Travis" Oak said warningly.
"Wait!"
But she turned and vanished into the shadows. When he´d finally found his will to hurry after her, she was gone.
Don´t become afraid of people, her voice echoed in his head, and he shook it as if to clear it. Whatever it was that that was supposed to mean, he would deal with it later. Right now, he had a patient to see.
The little girl sat on the frontsteps of "BBQ Bob´s", awaiting him, looking as calm and quiet as usual.
When she saw him approaching her, she stood, smiled, and sat down again.
"What took you so long?" she greeted him friendlyly, once he´d reached her.
"Hello to you, too," he smiled, looking down on her. "Don´t you wanna go inside?"
"No, I like it here."
"`kay," he shrugged and sat down next to her. "So, why did you call me?"
"It happened again," she said, studying her feet.
"What?" he asked, frowning. "What happened again, Sarah?"
He could almost feel the dwarfs taking their seats near the alarm bell in his head.
"I fainted," she replied. "Like the other day."
"Really? Why didn´t you come to the hospital?"
"Mommy wouldn´t let me. She said it´d go away after a while, like the last time."
Wondering what kind of mother would not have let her child checked out after an incident like that, Jesse bent down to look into the girl´s eyes.
They were bright and clear. Startingly blue, almost grey, like frozen water. He´d never seen eyes like that.
"But you don´t believe her?" he asked gently. "Do you feel ill?"
"No." She shook her head.
"Sarah, why did you call me? D´you want me to call your mother and get you to the hospital? We could run a few tests to find out why you keep on fainting."
"Mommy wouldn´t want that."
"Maybe I could talk to your mom, hm? I´m sure she wants you to be okay, don´t you think?"
She shrugged, then lifted her head to grin at him. "I like you," she stated happyly.
Surprised, Jesse frowned, but smiled back. "Yeah, Sarah, I like you, too, but see, it´s ...Sarah?"
All of a sudden, a shadow flashed over her small features, leaving a shade of terror back there. Her icelike eyes widened in fear, and before the doctor could reach out for her in order to offer some comfort, she jumped to her feet and ran.
"Sarah!" Jesse called after her, stumbling on his way to his feet.
But she´d already crossed the street; it seemed a miracle she hadn´t been run over by a car.
Jesse was about to run after her, when a confused voice behind him let him spun around.
"Ah ... Jess?"
"Steve!" Unvoluntarily, he made a step backwards as if to gather some distance between them. A strange feeling crawled into his veins like adrenalin.
Not noticing his friend´s discomfort, Steve smiled amusedly. "Why´re you sitting outside? You haven´t told this bar-joke again, have you?"
"Wha ... no," Jesse stuttered and gazed back over his shoulder. Sarah had gone.
"I ..." he interrupted himself, casting his business-partner a distrusting look.
Sarah had run when seeing Steve. Why?
"Jesse? You okay?" Steve asked, somewhat concerned, but still obviously amused. "You look like you´ve seen one of your dwarfs outside here."
"Ah ... ha," Jesse laughed nervously. "I ... uh ... I just came here for ..." He glanced at his watch. "Gee, that late! I gotta go back to the hospital, I ..."
A sudden violent rush of panic hit him, and stashing his trembling hands in his pocketts, he slowly stepped away backwards.
"Gotta go," he repeated softly. "See ya."
With that, he turned and hurried away.
He didn´t even hear Steve´s confused reply being called after him.
Don´t become afraid of people.
Jesse shook his head against Oak ´s voice in his head, as he stepped out of the lift back in CG.
Don´t become afraid of people. Don´t become afraid of people. Don´t become afraid ...
He had been afraid of Steve. He´d never been afraid of Steve. What the hell was happening?
... afraid of people. Jesse Travis. Afraid of ...
"Jesse!"
Again startled, Jesse whirled around, gasping.
"Mark," he greeted the older doctor, trying to hide his jumpiness. "Hey. What´s up?"
"That´s what I wanted to ask you," Mark replied, and smiled. "Where´ve you been?"
"Uh ... Seeing a patient."
"Someone I know?"
"No, she ... It was the little girl who´s been here yesterday. Sarah Shem. She ... wanted to see me."
"Really?" Mark asked, frowning. "Why?"
Again, a strange sensation of distrust, even fear, got hold of the young doctor, and he stopped in midstep, tensing.
"She needed someone to talk to," he answered and lifted his head to one side, suspicious. "Why´re you asking this, Mark? Don´t you trust me?"
The older man blinked in clear surprise. "Pardon?"
As if he´d heard his own question himself for the first time, Jesse also blinked, and smiled nervously.
"I-I´m sorry, Mark. I didn´t mean to ..." He swept a hand over his face, suddenly feeling very tired. "I don´t feel too good today, you know. My head hurts, and I´m just a little cranky."
Now, anxiety mixed in Mark´s curious gaze, the doctor taking over.
"Your head still hurts?" he asked. "That´s a little weird, don´t you think? Maybe you should have checked yourself. You could have caught something."
Jesse just looked at him, wondering wether or not to tell him about the incident that had led to his headache, but somehow he didn´t want Mark to know. He hadn´t told Steve, either, he suddenly noticed. He didn´t know why, but he had the feeling that they mustn´t know about it.
"No, I don´t think that´ll be necessary," he heard himself reply quietly and was about to add a lie about him having always tended to react to hangovers that way, when a patient was brought in, just in time to save him from lieing to his friend.
"Okay, Mr. ...?"
"Dillard," the man replied, and hissed in pain. He held his left arm in a comforting angle, trying to move his hand as little as possible.
Quite a smart idea, considering his bloodied knuckles and a weirdly spread finger ...
"Mr. Dillard," Jesse repeated and smiled at him friendlyly. "I´m Dr.Travis. I´m going to clean the injuries on your knuckles now, and afterwards we´ll deal with the broken finger, `kay?"
A slight nod was all he got for a response.
"Hmm," Jesse made when he got a closer look at Dillard´s hand during the cleaning. "How did you get hurt, sir?"
"Fell," Dillard answered and shot him a nervous look.
Trying to hold the other man´s gaze, Jesse raised his brows. "Several times?" he asked innocently, though he couldn´t hide his disbelief.
"I fell!" Dillard repeated fiercely and jerked his head away from the doctor´s grip, only to cry out in pain.
"I´d suggest not to move it ," Jesse said calmingly, but naturally taken by surprise by the man´s behavior. "I´ll give you something for the pain when we´re finished here, `kay?"
But Dillard didn´t seem to hear him. Afraid, he eased his hand, not willing to let Jesse work on it again.
"Don´t hurt me," he hissed, then added furiously: "I won´t let you hurt me!"
"I´m not going to," Jesse replied, holding out his hands as if to show he wasn´t armed. "I want to help you. I don´t mean any harm, Mr. Dillard."
He made a short pause to let conviction sink in, then gently reached out for Dillard´s hand. "Please - let me continue?"
The man hesitated.
"Of course you can leave whenever you want, sir, but I doubt you´ll do that."
Finally, Dillard nodded slightly and layed his hand back on the table where Jesse had examined it.
"Good," the doctor nodded, smiling. "And if you don´t wanna tell me how it happened," he added after a while, "that´s fine."
Again, he glanced briefly at his patient, before concentrating on his task again. "I´m sure there´s a story behind it."
The man remained silent, his gaze never leaving his hand.
"Must have been one irritating wall, that you´ve had to teach it a lesson like that," Jesse continued innocently.
No answer.
At last, the doctor sighed and decided to give it up. He´d tried, if the man didn´t want help, there was nothing else he could do.
"`kay, I´m going to get a splint for your finger. Be right back. - Don´t go anywhere," he added earnestly when he´d already reached the door.
Dillard wouldn´t look at him.
Outside, Jesse glanced back at him, and sighed. The poor man shifted his weight nervously, his eyes darting around without seeing anything on the ground they were ordered to stare at. He was in an obvious critical condition of mind, seemingly hunted.
Perhaps he should call Dr. Thorman, the doctor thought, but shook off the thought at once. There was no way he would do to Dillard what he´d done to Mrs Reed. There had to be at least one patient of his from time to time, who didn´t end up in a looney bin.
Besides, he couldn´t bear the thought of having to tie down yet another patient. He probably couldn´t have done it if it was necessary.
Suddenly, a noise drew his attention to his right side.
She stood, once more hidden, unnoticed by anyone, behind an empty stratcher, staring over to him in what seemed to be despair. He could even make out something wet glittering on her face when he curiously stepped nearer.
"Oak," he announced her, and broke into a run, when she turned to flee.
"Oak!" he yelled, but stopped abruptly, as he heard a door being closed and footsteps behind him.
"Uh-oh." Whirling around, he only caught a glimpse of Dillard´s sleeve rush around a corner, before there were only hastened footsteps to be heard.
Without thinking, Jesse changed his direction to follow his patient to the stairs.
"Mr. Dillard! Wait!"
Out of the corner of his eye he could see Mark grabbing the phone, probably to call security for help, before he followed Dillard into the stairwell.
Confused as he was, the man ran upway instead of down in order to get out of the building, and had to stop, exhausted, when they both reached the fifth floor. Panting, he sank against the wall, looking at the approaching doctor in terror.
"Don´t come near!" he yelled, still out of breath.
Complying, Jesse slowed down and came to a halt on the last step of the stairs, again raising his hands.
"Easy," he said calmingly. "`sokay, I don´t wanna ..."
"Don´t come near!" Dillard repeated. "Leave me alone!"
"Okay," Jesse assured him. "I´ll stay right here. Alright?"
"I won´t let you hurt me anymore!" Dillard yelled, more furious than afraid this time, as Jesse nervously noticed.
"I never meant to hurt you," he said, trying to sound much calmer than he felt. "I´m really sorry if I did."
"I´m not afraid of you!" With a sickening thud, the man hit his good hand hard against the wall behind him.
Jesse winced. Now he could clearly imagine how the other hand had end up looking like it did.
"I´m not ..." he started, but was cut short, when Dillard suddenly moved towards him. He´d been right, there was no more fear in the man´s eyes, but hot, blazing fury.
Afraid himself now, the doctor took a step backwards, almost stumbling as he did so.
"Mr. Dillard ..."
"I won´t be afraid of you anymore, you hear me!" the man screamed in a high- pitched voice and grabbed Jesse´s collar.
Though he wasn´t taller than the doctor, he stood on the step above him, thereby looking down on his terrified captive, who didn´t dare to struggle out of fear to fall down the stairs.
"I´m sick of being afraid!!!"
Jesse didn´t dare defend himself, he simply stared into the mad bright eyes and begged the security guys to get there soon. He knew that if Dillard decided to let go off him now, he´d fall and probably broke his neck. Still, his heart flew out to the man whose insanity had obviously tortured him over a long time.
Too much to bear it any further. Somehow he had to break free of the terror. If he could only do it without killing me, Jesse thought.
An eternity it seemed, that they stood on top of the stairs, staring at each other, both panting, both out of fear. Then, slowly, the look in Dillard´s eyes changed. He blinked once, twice, cast his gaze away from the doctor he still held firmly in place, then back.
Jesse´s breath stopped for a second, involuntarily he closed his eyes against what was surely to come now - and was roughly shoved forwards onto the floor, breaking his fall with his hands.
Surprised, he turned his head only to see Dillard hurry down the steps, till he couldn´t hear him anymore.
Yet, he didn´t move, but just lay where he was, gasping for air, listening to the fast drums of his heartbeat.
Don´t become afraid of people, Jesse Travis.
"Did you get him?" Mark asked him when he finally returned to the ER.
Without looking at his friend, Jesse shook his head. "No, he disappeared before I reached him," he answered.
By the time his shift was over, he was dead-tired. His headache had even increased over the hours, till he had finally given up and taken a pain- pill. As he´d expected it, that had made things even worse, and now, on his way to the parking lot, he found that he was totally beat.
All he wanted right now was to crawl in his bed and sleep for a century. Forget about Oak and Dillard and all of that, just enjoy plain old sleep.
In expectation of just that, he sighed deeply and opened the door to the level where he´d parked his car.
But the world still was out of mercy, it seemed. What awaited him next to his car made him scream out loudly, and though he tried to fight it, he couldn´t help but freeze in midstep once again.
The dark, huge figure looked at him. He couldn´t see it, but he felt what must have been a glare cast on him, threatening, unhuman. Darkness itself stared at him.
Like the first time he´d seen it, he felt pure, unreasonable terror simultanious to the thought that this was just a guy, not a monster. A human being. Not a thing.
It ... no, no, no, he had waited for him. And wether it was human or not, that fact definitely was enough to rise up the urge to run away in fear.
Deciding in a sencond´s thought, that that was a reasonable thing to do, Jesse turned on his heels, reentered the stairwell and ran down, feeling the dark figure following him.
He´d reached the next floor when he looked back over his shoulder to find it right behind - above - him, and in panic he lost his balance and fell.
Again, darkness overwhelmed him.
He woke to a sensational headache and a deep, soft noise seemingly far away.
The first thing his brain suggested to do was to groan, then open his eyes just a bit. A blurred dark figure leant somewhere over him, mercyfully shielding him from the lights. Still, he felt a sudden wave of terror washing over him when he saw it.
Scared, he jerked away, but stopped in the motion, wincing as pain shot through his head.
"Owww," he moaned and buried his aching head in his hands. A gentle, yet firm hand was placed on his shoulder to keep him from further movement.
"Easy Jess," a deep voice announced when the young doctor flinched again. "Easy, it´s me, Mark. Can you hear me?"
Jesse started to nod, but thought about it and eased his head down again, whispering: "Yeah, I hear you."
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, before opening them again to find his vision focused at last.
"And now I can see you, too," he joked and tried to smile.
But even that hurt.
"What happened?" he asked after another moan, squeezing his eyes shut again. The dwarfs were definitely throwing the party of the year. And unfortunately, he´d been invited.
"We thought you could tell us," another voice as concerned as Mark´s, yet also angry, announced from Jesse´s other side.
"Huh?" the young doctor asked, cracking his eyes open again to face Steve Sloan´s stern look.
"I found you in the stairwell to the parking lot," the detective explained, obviously growing angrier every second now. "You´re covered with bruises. What happened?"
"The parking lot," Jesse whispered to himself as the memory kicked in. Another moan followed. His head was really killing him, and he felt a little nauseatic, too.
"Easy," Mark repeated as Jesse made a feeble attempt to sit up. "You´ve hit your head pretty hard. And adding that to the previous blow you received ..."
" ... which you happened to not have told us about," Steve interrupted his father and stepped closer to look directly at his friend.
"Oh," Jesse said innocently, but avoided returning the gaze. "Ah ... that."
"Yeah, that! Why didn´t you tell me somebody broke into your place last night?"
"I have a concussion?" Jesse tried for an answer.
"This isn´t funny, Jess!" Steve shot back anxiously. "First I meet you outside the bar where you´re acting really strange, then Amanda calls me to ask if I checked your place by now, and when I get here to talk to you about it, I find you lying in the stairwell unconsciously! What do you think I ..."
His voice had risen to an almost yell, but confronted with Jesse´s startled look, he controlled himself, casting his best elder brother-look on his friend as he asked: "Jess, are you in trouble?"
Jesse´s eyes widened in surprise, even more so when he looked to the other side to find the same look Steve had on Mark´s face, too. He couldn´t help his following laugh to be a little nervous, though.
"Wha ... No! I fell down the stairs."
Considering the Sloans´ looks he could have told them he´d been abducted by aliens.
"Really."
Finally, the older Sloan stated, without looking at his son: "The bruises and concussion fit to this explanation."
Unconvinced, the younger Sloan replied: "The burglary doesn´t."
"Guys," Jesse said desperately, for he knew that special Sloan-look he found himself the target of now, all too well. "There´s nothing to worry about, really. I stumbled over my own two feet and fell. You´ve never fallen down the stairs?"
"Why didn´t you tell me about the bulglary?" Steve demanded.
"There was no point in telling you," Jesse replied and tried to smile calmingly. "Nothing was stolen, I didn´t see the guy, and I just hit my head on the door-frame. It could´ve been a dream. You know, I think it was a dream."
Looking at one Sloan after the other, he sighed desperatly. "How can I convince you that everything´s fine?! My head hurts and so I fell down a few steps. That´s all. No big deal. Will you please stop looking like that now?"
While Mark ´s expression softened noticably, Steve still studyied his friend with an unconvinced, stern look.
"You wouldn´t lie to me about this, would you?" he finally asked.
Uh-oh, there it was. "Naw, course not," Jesse lied lamely, his gaze locked with the floor, thereby missing the meaningful one exchanged between father and son above his head.
"Okay," Mark finally broke the silence. He´d sensed his son´s rising anger at their friend and decided to let Jesse deal with whatever it was he tried to hide from them alone. Though he too was worried about the young man, there was no point in making him feel distrusted. Knowing Jesse, Mark assumed that he´d probably turn to him for help sooner or later, anyway.
"You need rest. Let´s get you home."
"Great idea," Jesse agreed relievedly, and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Even in a sitting position, he swayed dangerously and groaned once more in pain.
"Not your home," Steve replied while supporting his friend by taking hold of his shoulder.
"What?!" Against all warnings, Jesse jerked his head up, and nearly passed out again.
Now being supported by two Sloan´s, he couldn´t fight the thought that his painfilled whimpered objection wasn´t all that convincing.
"You´re staying with us, at least tonight," Mark ordered. "And that´s that."
Jesse´d barely opened his mouth, when Steve hushed him down firmly. "No buts, Jesse. And to spare you the why: I don´t believe you, pal. You´ve acted pretty strange lately."
"`sides," Mark added, feeling like the nice cop-counterpart to Steve here, "you have a concussion. You shouldn´t be alone."
Since there obviously wasn´t a thing he could do about it, the young doctor surrendered and let himself being helped to his feet and to Steve´s car.
He slept all the way to the beach house.
Great, now he couldn´t sleep.
Rolling to the other side of his bed, Steve Sloan moaned in frustration and hit his blankett.
There were few things he hated as much as not being able to sleep. He was a hard-working man, goddamnit, he had the right to sleep properly at night.
Now he would be cranky and moody in the morning, which would lead to his father making fun of him and his colleagues rolling their eyes at him behind his back.
He was getting angry at the whole world by just imagining all of this ...
And it was all Jesse´s fault, he decided. He was so concerned and irritated by his friend´s behavior, that he couldn´t sleep. It´d be only fair to wake him up, too, and make him finally tell the truth, Steve thought grumpily, but of course didn´t inted to do so.
Though he didn´t believe a word the young doctor had said about the latest incidents, he knew he had no right to push him further. If Jesse didn´t want him to know, that was fine with him. If he wanted to end up breaking his neck, that was fine!
Mumbling a few swears which didn´t make him feel better, though, he rolled to the other side again and sighed.
Go to sleep! he ordered himself, but after a few moments found that he couldn´t obey.
He was just about to scowl at him for showing no respect towards superior´s orders, when he heard a low sound from down the hall.
Unconsciously happy to have found something to do, he sat up in bed and strained to make out what it was. Footsteps. The sound of bare feet trippling as quietly as possible down the stairs.
Knowing that his father wouldn´t tripple, but more or less bang about, for he would believe his son sound asleep by now, Steve combined that it had to be Jesse, who - as he thought in a moment of gloating phantasy - couldn´t sleep, too, because he felt guilty about having lied to his friends.
Without thinking about it, Steve crawled out of bed and grabbed his bathrobe and slippers.
He followed the soft noise to the kitchen and really found Jesse with a glass in his hand, turned to the sink.
Because he had his back to Steve, the detective strained to not startle him and said as softly as he possible could: "Hey Jess. Couldn´t sleep, either?"
Still, the younger man jumped and even let the glass fall down. It crashed to pieces loudly, and the doctor spun around to meet Steve´s apologizing wince.
"Uh ... sorry," the detective said in a small voice. "I didn´t mean ..."
But he stopped in midsentence once he looked in Jesse´s eyes. What met him there wasn´t anger or fright, but terror.
And Steve definitely couldn´t have expected what followed next, for not only did Jesse stare at him in fear, but he also attempted to back away, thereby stepping into the pieces of the glass.
"Jesse, your feet!" Steve called out warningly, but the younger man didn´t listen.
He didn´t even wince, when one piece of glass cut his bare skin, but now slowly started to sink down, too, for he´d found himself trapped between Steve and the sink.
His left hand had already touched another piece, when Steve rushed forward to grab hold of his other arm.
"Jess! What´re you doing?!"
But Jesse didn´t seem to recognise him. Terrified, he continued focusing the taller man, and whispered in fear: "Don´t hurt me. Please."
Shocked, Steve didn´t know what to say, so he decided to deal with the problem at hand by lifting his struggling friend into the air and dragging him out of the mess of pieces to safe ground.
"Let go off me!" Jesse begged, his voice still a mere whisper, his eyes squeezed shut now. "Leave me alone. Please!"
"Jesse, it´s me!" Steve said loudly when he´d sat his friend down again. He reached out for the still struggling doctor´s chin and lifted his head to make him look into his eyes.
Weak attempts of freeing his face from the grib, left the taller man´s arm and shirt bloodied as a cut hand touched them repeatedly.
"Hey! It´s me, Steve! I´m not going to hurt you. Jesse! Snap out of it!"
Finally Jesse´s struggles subsided, his eyes cleared as if a fog had rushed through them, but was now blown away by a fresh wind. Relieved, Steve let go off his chin and sat back to give him space to calm down.
The doctor blinked, and winced. First frowning at Steve´s bloodstrained shirt, he soonly lifted his cut hand to look at it.
"Ow," he finally stated confusedly, and gazed back at his friend. "What ...?"
He interrupted himself and looked around as if seeing the kitchen for the very first time.
"Steve?" he asked shakily and was obviously about to add another question, but didn´t know where to start.
"Yeah," the detective nodded, noticing surprisedly that he panted. "It´s alright, you´re at the beach house. Remember?"
Slowly, the smaller man nodded. He shivered and drew his knees to his nose to slung his arms around his legs, when another drop of blood connected with his trousers.
Gently, Steve grabbed his hand to hold it upright.
"You cut your hand on a piece of glass," he explained for he didn´t know wether Jesse remembered. Looking over his shoulder for a towel, he continued: "I startled you and you let the glass fall down."
He found a towell and gave it to Jesse, who pressed it on the bleeding gash, still confused, but quiet now and no longer afraid of his friend.
"You also cut your foot, I think," the detective said and looked down at the floor, were a slight shade of red marked the way he had carried Jesse.
"But it´s not that deep," he added when catching a glimpse of the cut on Jesse´s foot. "Won´t need stitches."
With that he looked back at the younger man, who´d followed his gaze, but hadn´t said a thing. A fact Steve found extremely disquieting for Jesse usually couldn´t keep himself from stating medical diagnosises. Even more so when they concerened himself.
But right now, he just looked blankly at his hand, his foot, his friend and the mess to this right. Though he seemed to be agitated, he moved slowly, a desperate frown never left his face. Steve started to wonder if he was in shock.
It´d probably be the best to wake his father, he decided, and was about to tell Jesse to remain where he was, when the doctor all of a sudden flinched again, hitting the wall behind his back. To Steve´s shock, his eyes widened once again in terror, staring at a spot behind the detective. His mouth opened in a soundless cry of fear.
But there was nothing there behind his back, Steve found as he turned to look.
"Jesse?" he asked unsurely, almost fearfully. "Jess, what the hell´s wrong with you?"
As to underline his question and because he didn´t know what to do, he grabbed hold of the doctor´s shoulders to gently, but firmly force him to look into his eyes.
"What´re you afraid of? Jesse?"
Jesse blinked. His eyes darted from behind Steve to him and back, suddenly growing even wider than before, though the detective wouldn´t have thought it possible.
He was more or less terrified himself by the time Jesse all of a sudden jumped to his feet, wincing as his injured one connected with the cold floor, and rushed to the back door and outside. There he stopped on the railing of the terrace, gasping for air.
It took Steve a few moments to bring himself to follow him outside, and even there he didn´t dare approach him, but remained behind him, concerned.
Finally, after what seemed to have been an eternity, Jesse turned around, leaning against the railing, and looked at his friend, the remnands on terror still visible in his eyes, though different now.
A different kind of fear.
"S-sorry," he croaked, cleared his throat and tried again. "I-I´m soory, Steve. I ..." He laughed softly, completely humorless. "I guess I ... ahm ... Oh, man, one hell of a nightmare that was," he finally said, not very convincing, but accompanied by a halfhearted grin. "Huh?"
"Nightmare?" Steve repeated doubtfully, now stepping nearer, though he still sensed his friend´s tension. "You had a nightmare?"
As Jesse hastened to nod, Steve frowned. "So what, you sleep-walk?"
"Ah ... no, well ... I must have, right? I mean, I was in the kitchen, so, yeah, guess, I sleep-walk."
"I didn´t know you sleep-walk."
"That´s probably because I´ve never done before," Jesse shot back, his voice rising in anger, but quickly calmed himself down. "I ... uh ... I guess it´s because of the concussion, you know."
"Hm." Steve was definitely not convinced. "You were scared of me," he finally said, sounding almost casually.
"Oh, really?" Jesse laughed nervously. "Well ... ah ... Why would I ... Probably causa the dream, y ´know. Tall dark figure ..." He grinned dryly. "Actually you can be quite scarry."
But Steve wasn´t ready for jokes, not yet. The image of Jesse huddling against the wall was still all too clear in his mind.
"But you ..."
"Look, ah, Steve, my hand´s still bleeding, and ... ahm, I´m kinda ... tired now. Aren´t you?So, why don´t we go inside - or hobble, that is," he added after casting a glance at the few strays of blood marking his way outside, "and go to sleep, huh? I just need your help for ..." He hold out his injured hand.
Deciding that there was no use in discussing the incident in the middle of the night, Steve sighed and finally nodded, surrendering.
"`kay,come in, I´ll go get some bandages."
He could almost feel the sensation of relief washing over his friend, when he turned and reentered the house.
His hand and feet bandaged, his head still aching, his breath coming out in still terrified little gasps, Jesse lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling.
This couldn´t be happening.
Inside the house there was no noise to be heard, execpt his own breaths, but still, he heard voices talking. Many of them.
He couldn´t understand a thing they said, but he felt that they were talking about him. About him, because he was crazy.
The voices didn´t belong to people, they belonged to his head. He knew that now.
He´d been woken up by them, by the voices, talking really loudly somewhere down in the kitchen, and he´d gone down to see who they were.
But there´d been no one. Just voices. Voices in the kitchen, but no bodies producing them ...
And then - he´d seen Steve, no, not Steve, but the dark, tall figure, and he´d backed away, and ...
He couldn´t help gasping in fear again. He´d been scared of Steve, he knew that now. He´d looked at Steve, but he hadn´t seen his friend, but a threatening, dark, tall figure which had been about to ... grab him and ...
He winced as pain shot through his hand, because he´d squeezed his blankett.
Don´t become afraid of people, Jesse Travis.
But he had been afraid. Like Dillard had been of him, Jesse. And like Dillard Jesse had begged and tried to flee and ... and ...
And then he´d seen her. Behind Steve. Smiling at him. Waving at him.
"Don´t be scared," she´d said in her sweet little-girl voice. "Don´t be scared."
"Sarah," he whispered as the scene was reproduced in his mind. Sarah had been standing right behind Steve, but the detective hadn´t seen her. And how did she come into the house?
With him, was the sickening answer. Sarah had entered the house being carried in his mind. She´d not been there in the kitchen.
She´d never been there.
She wasn´t real.
None of this was. But what was "this"? What was real?
"Oh god," he whispered in fear, and clung to his blankett till his hand hurt again. Even then he wouldn´t let go. The pain was there. It was real.
"Oh god, what´s happening to me?"
He´d never been so afraid in his entire life.
This marks the beginning of the real cookie hell, so watch out for dwarfs.
Disclaimers still the same and thanks again to StrangePenguin for her non- stop support and all the growth I experienced through her ... Obst still rules!
Enjoy!
Doctor: "Do you ever wonder wether you´re real?"
Patient: "Oh no, sir! I know I´m not."
( "Anyone Can Whistle")
Lost deep in thoughts, Amanda strolled along the hallway the next morning, when she suddenly heard Jesse´s voice from somewhere behind the corner.
Though she couldn´t see him yet, she smiled, for he talked in his nice, polite "Leave me alone with this! What the hell should I do about it?!"- tone he used when he was tired, cranky and unnerved, all at the same time.
Coming nearer with each step, a frown built on her forehead. Strange it was - she didn´t hear another voice. Just the young doctor´s making "hm"´s and "yeah"´s as though answering to another one.
Curious, she fastened her speed, only to bump into Jesse when he himself turned around the corner.
"Ow!"
"Yeah, ow!" Amanda nodded, rubbing her aching forehead. "Why don´t you take a look at where you´re going?"
"Why don´t you?" the younger doctor shot back, a clear indication for his extremely bad mood, Amanda decided, surprised.
He didn´t even apologize, which would have been natural for Jesse under normal circumstances.
She was just about to make a remark about that, when he asked grumpily: "You hurt?"
Obviously this had to be enough on a day like this, why ever it should be a bad one for him. She was willing to find out, though.
"No. But you look a bit under the weather today. Dwarfs still at work, I assume?"
Before he could even nod, she grabbed his shoulders to directly look at him. "What´s that?"
Carefully, she brushed his hair aside to discover the slight bruise on his temple he´d tried to hide beneath it.
"Don´t tell me the dwarfs reached the surface."
He waved her hand away and winced when he accidentally touched the sore spot himself.
"Somebody broke into my apartment last night, and ..."
"Oh my ... Jess, you were attacked?"
"No," he hastened to say in a calm, yet somewhat irritated tone. "I hit my head on the door-frame and fell. That´s all, it´s nothing, really. I´m just having a bit of an headache today."
What an understatement! He was having the headache of the year and could have expected a prize for it ...
"Did you call the police?" Amanda asked, still gazing at his temple with clear concern.
For being such a smart-ass when it came to treat self-caused pain like hangovers, she was pity itself when incidents like that happened to her friends.
Jesse felt better by just seeing the worry in her face, and even managed to show her his best boyish smile as he waved again.
"Naw, what would be the point? I think there wasn´t even something missing. It probably scared him off when I fell unconscious, and he ran. My neighbor found me shortly afterwards and made sure I was okay. No big deal, really."
"You sure?"
Grinning, he nodded. "Absolute ..."
Only to be remembered not to nod ...
"Fairly sure," he concluded faintlier than before, but then smiled bravely at her once again worried look while mentioning her to go along.
"What I really need right now is coffee," he said. "You?"
After a moment´s thought about wether or not to keep on worrying, she finally nodded, and they headed side by side to the Doctor´s Lounge.
"Who were you talking to, by the way?" she demanded on their way. "Before I woke your dwarfs?"
"Oh. Don´t worry, they were already up and about," he grinned sarcastically.
"A Mr. ... Something, who was looking for the operation rooms. `nother one of these insurance guys, you know. Some jerk he was, and his voice could have waken up your patients," he added.
Though wondering about that last remark, for she hadn´t heard anything of Mr. Something, Amanda laughed softly, and patted his arm, before she opened the door to the Doctor´s Lounge for him.
"Your insurance covers insurance agents, doesn´t it?"
"It better does or I´ll change it," he replied and approached the coffee machine.
"Great," he sighed when finding it empty.
"Wait. I´ll make ..."
"No! - Uh," he added in a much softlier tone at her surprised gaze. "No offence, Amanda, but your coffee´s usually that weak, it bearly manages to leave the pot. - And ... i-it´s great for staying healthy and stuff, but I´m all over that today, so why don´t you just sit down, and I´ll ..."
Shrinking under her gaze, he turned and took care of the coffee.
"By the way," he said after a short while and sat down across her at a nearby table. "Have you finished the tests on Pinter by now? You never told me if you found anything else."
"I´ve sent some of the samples I took to Boston," Amanda replied seriously. "There´s something in his blood I can´t guess the origin of. It´s no drug, more like the remainings of a capsule, but there were no remainings of whatever you swalloe in a capsule in his blood. Nothing at all, not even pain-killers. It´s strange."
"You think this could have had something to do with him ... you know?"
She shrugged. "Dunno. Possible. Even if it doesn´t, it´s the right thing to check."
"Yeah. Right." He smiled. "Thanks."
"It´s my job," she said softly, but they both knew what they meant.
"I think the coffee´s ready," Amanda said after a few moments of a comfortable silence.
"Uh," Jesse groaned, placing one hand over his face. "Why did I have to sit down in the first place?!"
"D´you want me to get it or do I ruin it by not pouring it strong enough into the cup?" Amanda teased, but was already half way to the her feet to get it.
"Thanks," Jesse murmured gratefully, his hand still covering his face. "You know, I read something by a doctor from Boston the other week. In the july- edition of ... whatever it is we order here. I think it covered something like what you found in Pinter´s ..."
Amanda´s beeper interrupted him, and taking a glance at it, she shrugged, sighed in mock sorry and patted his head gently, before opening the door.
"Gotta go. Looks like you´ll have to help you to your coffee after all. Think you´ll manage that?"
"Not really," he replied whiningly.
"Well, good luck."
Alone, Jesse cast a longing look on the coffee still resting in it´s machine cosyly, then let his head fall down on the table, whimpering.
Life was so unfair today!
"Hey guys!" he announced his dwarfs. "Couldn´t you get the coffee? It´s enough for all of us, you know?"
As if for an answer, the phone rang, much to the benefit of the doctor´s headache. Moaning, Jesse stood, rolling his eyes at the ceiling while reaching for the receiver.
"I almost had them do it," he murmured, then answered the phone.
"Community General, this is Dr. Travis speaking. - Sarah!"
"Dr. Travis!"
Startled, Jesse whirled around from where he´d been about to unlock his car in the hospital´s parking lot.
"Oak?" he asked confusedly, when he noticed the small figure stepping out of the shadows to face him.
"Where´re you going?" she demanded.
"Ahm ... A patient called me to ... Why do you wanna know?" Suddenly feeling like it would be wiser to distrust this woman, he frowned, and made a step towards her. Almost threatening.
"Who are you? Why do you follow me?"
"Looking out for you," she replied calmly.
"You said that before. Why would I need somebody to look out for me? You don´t even know me. Who are you?!"
"Are you afraid of me?" the woman asked, not impressed by his outburst.
Taken aback, he hushed. Stared at her in awe. Yes, he suddenly found himself stating, yes, he was afraid of her. But ... why?
"Don´t become afraid of people, Jesse Travis" Oak said warningly.
"Wait!"
But she turned and vanished into the shadows. When he´d finally found his will to hurry after her, she was gone.
Don´t become afraid of people, her voice echoed in his head, and he shook it as if to clear it. Whatever it was that that was supposed to mean, he would deal with it later. Right now, he had a patient to see.
The little girl sat on the frontsteps of "BBQ Bob´s", awaiting him, looking as calm and quiet as usual.
When she saw him approaching her, she stood, smiled, and sat down again.
"What took you so long?" she greeted him friendlyly, once he´d reached her.
"Hello to you, too," he smiled, looking down on her. "Don´t you wanna go inside?"
"No, I like it here."
"`kay," he shrugged and sat down next to her. "So, why did you call me?"
"It happened again," she said, studying her feet.
"What?" he asked, frowning. "What happened again, Sarah?"
He could almost feel the dwarfs taking their seats near the alarm bell in his head.
"I fainted," she replied. "Like the other day."
"Really? Why didn´t you come to the hospital?"
"Mommy wouldn´t let me. She said it´d go away after a while, like the last time."
Wondering what kind of mother would not have let her child checked out after an incident like that, Jesse bent down to look into the girl´s eyes.
They were bright and clear. Startingly blue, almost grey, like frozen water. He´d never seen eyes like that.
"But you don´t believe her?" he asked gently. "Do you feel ill?"
"No." She shook her head.
"Sarah, why did you call me? D´you want me to call your mother and get you to the hospital? We could run a few tests to find out why you keep on fainting."
"Mommy wouldn´t want that."
"Maybe I could talk to your mom, hm? I´m sure she wants you to be okay, don´t you think?"
She shrugged, then lifted her head to grin at him. "I like you," she stated happyly.
Surprised, Jesse frowned, but smiled back. "Yeah, Sarah, I like you, too, but see, it´s ...Sarah?"
All of a sudden, a shadow flashed over her small features, leaving a shade of terror back there. Her icelike eyes widened in fear, and before the doctor could reach out for her in order to offer some comfort, she jumped to her feet and ran.
"Sarah!" Jesse called after her, stumbling on his way to his feet.
But she´d already crossed the street; it seemed a miracle she hadn´t been run over by a car.
Jesse was about to run after her, when a confused voice behind him let him spun around.
"Ah ... Jess?"
"Steve!" Unvoluntarily, he made a step backwards as if to gather some distance between them. A strange feeling crawled into his veins like adrenalin.
Not noticing his friend´s discomfort, Steve smiled amusedly. "Why´re you sitting outside? You haven´t told this bar-joke again, have you?"
"Wha ... no," Jesse stuttered and gazed back over his shoulder. Sarah had gone.
"I ..." he interrupted himself, casting his business-partner a distrusting look.
Sarah had run when seeing Steve. Why?
"Jesse? You okay?" Steve asked, somewhat concerned, but still obviously amused. "You look like you´ve seen one of your dwarfs outside here."
"Ah ... ha," Jesse laughed nervously. "I ... uh ... I just came here for ..." He glanced at his watch. "Gee, that late! I gotta go back to the hospital, I ..."
A sudden violent rush of panic hit him, and stashing his trembling hands in his pocketts, he slowly stepped away backwards.
"Gotta go," he repeated softly. "See ya."
With that, he turned and hurried away.
He didn´t even hear Steve´s confused reply being called after him.
Don´t become afraid of people.
Jesse shook his head against Oak ´s voice in his head, as he stepped out of the lift back in CG.
Don´t become afraid of people. Don´t become afraid of people. Don´t become afraid ...
He had been afraid of Steve. He´d never been afraid of Steve. What the hell was happening?
... afraid of people. Jesse Travis. Afraid of ...
"Jesse!"
Again startled, Jesse whirled around, gasping.
"Mark," he greeted the older doctor, trying to hide his jumpiness. "Hey. What´s up?"
"That´s what I wanted to ask you," Mark replied, and smiled. "Where´ve you been?"
"Uh ... Seeing a patient."
"Someone I know?"
"No, she ... It was the little girl who´s been here yesterday. Sarah Shem. She ... wanted to see me."
"Really?" Mark asked, frowning. "Why?"
Again, a strange sensation of distrust, even fear, got hold of the young doctor, and he stopped in midstep, tensing.
"She needed someone to talk to," he answered and lifted his head to one side, suspicious. "Why´re you asking this, Mark? Don´t you trust me?"
The older man blinked in clear surprise. "Pardon?"
As if he´d heard his own question himself for the first time, Jesse also blinked, and smiled nervously.
"I-I´m sorry, Mark. I didn´t mean to ..." He swept a hand over his face, suddenly feeling very tired. "I don´t feel too good today, you know. My head hurts, and I´m just a little cranky."
Now, anxiety mixed in Mark´s curious gaze, the doctor taking over.
"Your head still hurts?" he asked. "That´s a little weird, don´t you think? Maybe you should have checked yourself. You could have caught something."
Jesse just looked at him, wondering wether or not to tell him about the incident that had led to his headache, but somehow he didn´t want Mark to know. He hadn´t told Steve, either, he suddenly noticed. He didn´t know why, but he had the feeling that they mustn´t know about it.
"No, I don´t think that´ll be necessary," he heard himself reply quietly and was about to add a lie about him having always tended to react to hangovers that way, when a patient was brought in, just in time to save him from lieing to his friend.
"Okay, Mr. ...?"
"Dillard," the man replied, and hissed in pain. He held his left arm in a comforting angle, trying to move his hand as little as possible.
Quite a smart idea, considering his bloodied knuckles and a weirdly spread finger ...
"Mr. Dillard," Jesse repeated and smiled at him friendlyly. "I´m Dr.Travis. I´m going to clean the injuries on your knuckles now, and afterwards we´ll deal with the broken finger, `kay?"
A slight nod was all he got for a response.
"Hmm," Jesse made when he got a closer look at Dillard´s hand during the cleaning. "How did you get hurt, sir?"
"Fell," Dillard answered and shot him a nervous look.
Trying to hold the other man´s gaze, Jesse raised his brows. "Several times?" he asked innocently, though he couldn´t hide his disbelief.
"I fell!" Dillard repeated fiercely and jerked his head away from the doctor´s grip, only to cry out in pain.
"I´d suggest not to move it ," Jesse said calmingly, but naturally taken by surprise by the man´s behavior. "I´ll give you something for the pain when we´re finished here, `kay?"
But Dillard didn´t seem to hear him. Afraid, he eased his hand, not willing to let Jesse work on it again.
"Don´t hurt me," he hissed, then added furiously: "I won´t let you hurt me!"
"I´m not going to," Jesse replied, holding out his hands as if to show he wasn´t armed. "I want to help you. I don´t mean any harm, Mr. Dillard."
He made a short pause to let conviction sink in, then gently reached out for Dillard´s hand. "Please - let me continue?"
The man hesitated.
"Of course you can leave whenever you want, sir, but I doubt you´ll do that."
Finally, Dillard nodded slightly and layed his hand back on the table where Jesse had examined it.
"Good," the doctor nodded, smiling. "And if you don´t wanna tell me how it happened," he added after a while, "that´s fine."
Again, he glanced briefly at his patient, before concentrating on his task again. "I´m sure there´s a story behind it."
The man remained silent, his gaze never leaving his hand.
"Must have been one irritating wall, that you´ve had to teach it a lesson like that," Jesse continued innocently.
No answer.
At last, the doctor sighed and decided to give it up. He´d tried, if the man didn´t want help, there was nothing else he could do.
"`kay, I´m going to get a splint for your finger. Be right back. - Don´t go anywhere," he added earnestly when he´d already reached the door.
Dillard wouldn´t look at him.
Outside, Jesse glanced back at him, and sighed. The poor man shifted his weight nervously, his eyes darting around without seeing anything on the ground they were ordered to stare at. He was in an obvious critical condition of mind, seemingly hunted.
Perhaps he should call Dr. Thorman, the doctor thought, but shook off the thought at once. There was no way he would do to Dillard what he´d done to Mrs Reed. There had to be at least one patient of his from time to time, who didn´t end up in a looney bin.
Besides, he couldn´t bear the thought of having to tie down yet another patient. He probably couldn´t have done it if it was necessary.
Suddenly, a noise drew his attention to his right side.
She stood, once more hidden, unnoticed by anyone, behind an empty stratcher, staring over to him in what seemed to be despair. He could even make out something wet glittering on her face when he curiously stepped nearer.
"Oak," he announced her, and broke into a run, when she turned to flee.
"Oak!" he yelled, but stopped abruptly, as he heard a door being closed and footsteps behind him.
"Uh-oh." Whirling around, he only caught a glimpse of Dillard´s sleeve rush around a corner, before there were only hastened footsteps to be heard.
Without thinking, Jesse changed his direction to follow his patient to the stairs.
"Mr. Dillard! Wait!"
Out of the corner of his eye he could see Mark grabbing the phone, probably to call security for help, before he followed Dillard into the stairwell.
Confused as he was, the man ran upway instead of down in order to get out of the building, and had to stop, exhausted, when they both reached the fifth floor. Panting, he sank against the wall, looking at the approaching doctor in terror.
"Don´t come near!" he yelled, still out of breath.
Complying, Jesse slowed down and came to a halt on the last step of the stairs, again raising his hands.
"Easy," he said calmingly. "`sokay, I don´t wanna ..."
"Don´t come near!" Dillard repeated. "Leave me alone!"
"Okay," Jesse assured him. "I´ll stay right here. Alright?"
"I won´t let you hurt me anymore!" Dillard yelled, more furious than afraid this time, as Jesse nervously noticed.
"I never meant to hurt you," he said, trying to sound much calmer than he felt. "I´m really sorry if I did."
"I´m not afraid of you!" With a sickening thud, the man hit his good hand hard against the wall behind him.
Jesse winced. Now he could clearly imagine how the other hand had end up looking like it did.
"I´m not ..." he started, but was cut short, when Dillard suddenly moved towards him. He´d been right, there was no more fear in the man´s eyes, but hot, blazing fury.
Afraid himself now, the doctor took a step backwards, almost stumbling as he did so.
"Mr. Dillard ..."
"I won´t be afraid of you anymore, you hear me!" the man screamed in a high- pitched voice and grabbed Jesse´s collar.
Though he wasn´t taller than the doctor, he stood on the step above him, thereby looking down on his terrified captive, who didn´t dare to struggle out of fear to fall down the stairs.
"I´m sick of being afraid!!!"
Jesse didn´t dare defend himself, he simply stared into the mad bright eyes and begged the security guys to get there soon. He knew that if Dillard decided to let go off him now, he´d fall and probably broke his neck. Still, his heart flew out to the man whose insanity had obviously tortured him over a long time.
Too much to bear it any further. Somehow he had to break free of the terror. If he could only do it without killing me, Jesse thought.
An eternity it seemed, that they stood on top of the stairs, staring at each other, both panting, both out of fear. Then, slowly, the look in Dillard´s eyes changed. He blinked once, twice, cast his gaze away from the doctor he still held firmly in place, then back.
Jesse´s breath stopped for a second, involuntarily he closed his eyes against what was surely to come now - and was roughly shoved forwards onto the floor, breaking his fall with his hands.
Surprised, he turned his head only to see Dillard hurry down the steps, till he couldn´t hear him anymore.
Yet, he didn´t move, but just lay where he was, gasping for air, listening to the fast drums of his heartbeat.
Don´t become afraid of people, Jesse Travis.
"Did you get him?" Mark asked him when he finally returned to the ER.
Without looking at his friend, Jesse shook his head. "No, he disappeared before I reached him," he answered.
By the time his shift was over, he was dead-tired. His headache had even increased over the hours, till he had finally given up and taken a pain- pill. As he´d expected it, that had made things even worse, and now, on his way to the parking lot, he found that he was totally beat.
All he wanted right now was to crawl in his bed and sleep for a century. Forget about Oak and Dillard and all of that, just enjoy plain old sleep.
In expectation of just that, he sighed deeply and opened the door to the level where he´d parked his car.
But the world still was out of mercy, it seemed. What awaited him next to his car made him scream out loudly, and though he tried to fight it, he couldn´t help but freeze in midstep once again.
The dark, huge figure looked at him. He couldn´t see it, but he felt what must have been a glare cast on him, threatening, unhuman. Darkness itself stared at him.
Like the first time he´d seen it, he felt pure, unreasonable terror simultanious to the thought that this was just a guy, not a monster. A human being. Not a thing.
It ... no, no, no, he had waited for him. And wether it was human or not, that fact definitely was enough to rise up the urge to run away in fear.
Deciding in a sencond´s thought, that that was a reasonable thing to do, Jesse turned on his heels, reentered the stairwell and ran down, feeling the dark figure following him.
He´d reached the next floor when he looked back over his shoulder to find it right behind - above - him, and in panic he lost his balance and fell.
Again, darkness overwhelmed him.
He woke to a sensational headache and a deep, soft noise seemingly far away.
The first thing his brain suggested to do was to groan, then open his eyes just a bit. A blurred dark figure leant somewhere over him, mercyfully shielding him from the lights. Still, he felt a sudden wave of terror washing over him when he saw it.
Scared, he jerked away, but stopped in the motion, wincing as pain shot through his head.
"Owww," he moaned and buried his aching head in his hands. A gentle, yet firm hand was placed on his shoulder to keep him from further movement.
"Easy Jess," a deep voice announced when the young doctor flinched again. "Easy, it´s me, Mark. Can you hear me?"
Jesse started to nod, but thought about it and eased his head down again, whispering: "Yeah, I hear you."
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, before opening them again to find his vision focused at last.
"And now I can see you, too," he joked and tried to smile.
But even that hurt.
"What happened?" he asked after another moan, squeezing his eyes shut again. The dwarfs were definitely throwing the party of the year. And unfortunately, he´d been invited.
"We thought you could tell us," another voice as concerned as Mark´s, yet also angry, announced from Jesse´s other side.
"Huh?" the young doctor asked, cracking his eyes open again to face Steve Sloan´s stern look.
"I found you in the stairwell to the parking lot," the detective explained, obviously growing angrier every second now. "You´re covered with bruises. What happened?"
"The parking lot," Jesse whispered to himself as the memory kicked in. Another moan followed. His head was really killing him, and he felt a little nauseatic, too.
"Easy," Mark repeated as Jesse made a feeble attempt to sit up. "You´ve hit your head pretty hard. And adding that to the previous blow you received ..."
" ... which you happened to not have told us about," Steve interrupted his father and stepped closer to look directly at his friend.
"Oh," Jesse said innocently, but avoided returning the gaze. "Ah ... that."
"Yeah, that! Why didn´t you tell me somebody broke into your place last night?"
"I have a concussion?" Jesse tried for an answer.
"This isn´t funny, Jess!" Steve shot back anxiously. "First I meet you outside the bar where you´re acting really strange, then Amanda calls me to ask if I checked your place by now, and when I get here to talk to you about it, I find you lying in the stairwell unconsciously! What do you think I ..."
His voice had risen to an almost yell, but confronted with Jesse´s startled look, he controlled himself, casting his best elder brother-look on his friend as he asked: "Jess, are you in trouble?"
Jesse´s eyes widened in surprise, even more so when he looked to the other side to find the same look Steve had on Mark´s face, too. He couldn´t help his following laugh to be a little nervous, though.
"Wha ... No! I fell down the stairs."
Considering the Sloans´ looks he could have told them he´d been abducted by aliens.
"Really."
Finally, the older Sloan stated, without looking at his son: "The bruises and concussion fit to this explanation."
Unconvinced, the younger Sloan replied: "The burglary doesn´t."
"Guys," Jesse said desperately, for he knew that special Sloan-look he found himself the target of now, all too well. "There´s nothing to worry about, really. I stumbled over my own two feet and fell. You´ve never fallen down the stairs?"
"Why didn´t you tell me about the bulglary?" Steve demanded.
"There was no point in telling you," Jesse replied and tried to smile calmingly. "Nothing was stolen, I didn´t see the guy, and I just hit my head on the door-frame. It could´ve been a dream. You know, I think it was a dream."
Looking at one Sloan after the other, he sighed desperatly. "How can I convince you that everything´s fine?! My head hurts and so I fell down a few steps. That´s all. No big deal. Will you please stop looking like that now?"
While Mark ´s expression softened noticably, Steve still studyied his friend with an unconvinced, stern look.
"You wouldn´t lie to me about this, would you?" he finally asked.
Uh-oh, there it was. "Naw, course not," Jesse lied lamely, his gaze locked with the floor, thereby missing the meaningful one exchanged between father and son above his head.
"Okay," Mark finally broke the silence. He´d sensed his son´s rising anger at their friend and decided to let Jesse deal with whatever it was he tried to hide from them alone. Though he too was worried about the young man, there was no point in making him feel distrusted. Knowing Jesse, Mark assumed that he´d probably turn to him for help sooner or later, anyway.
"You need rest. Let´s get you home."
"Great idea," Jesse agreed relievedly, and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Even in a sitting position, he swayed dangerously and groaned once more in pain.
"Not your home," Steve replied while supporting his friend by taking hold of his shoulder.
"What?!" Against all warnings, Jesse jerked his head up, and nearly passed out again.
Now being supported by two Sloan´s, he couldn´t fight the thought that his painfilled whimpered objection wasn´t all that convincing.
"You´re staying with us, at least tonight," Mark ordered. "And that´s that."
Jesse´d barely opened his mouth, when Steve hushed him down firmly. "No buts, Jesse. And to spare you the why: I don´t believe you, pal. You´ve acted pretty strange lately."
"`sides," Mark added, feeling like the nice cop-counterpart to Steve here, "you have a concussion. You shouldn´t be alone."
Since there obviously wasn´t a thing he could do about it, the young doctor surrendered and let himself being helped to his feet and to Steve´s car.
He slept all the way to the beach house.
Great, now he couldn´t sleep.
Rolling to the other side of his bed, Steve Sloan moaned in frustration and hit his blankett.
There were few things he hated as much as not being able to sleep. He was a hard-working man, goddamnit, he had the right to sleep properly at night.
Now he would be cranky and moody in the morning, which would lead to his father making fun of him and his colleagues rolling their eyes at him behind his back.
He was getting angry at the whole world by just imagining all of this ...
And it was all Jesse´s fault, he decided. He was so concerned and irritated by his friend´s behavior, that he couldn´t sleep. It´d be only fair to wake him up, too, and make him finally tell the truth, Steve thought grumpily, but of course didn´t inted to do so.
Though he didn´t believe a word the young doctor had said about the latest incidents, he knew he had no right to push him further. If Jesse didn´t want him to know, that was fine with him. If he wanted to end up breaking his neck, that was fine!
Mumbling a few swears which didn´t make him feel better, though, he rolled to the other side again and sighed.
Go to sleep! he ordered himself, but after a few moments found that he couldn´t obey.
He was just about to scowl at him for showing no respect towards superior´s orders, when he heard a low sound from down the hall.
Unconsciously happy to have found something to do, he sat up in bed and strained to make out what it was. Footsteps. The sound of bare feet trippling as quietly as possible down the stairs.
Knowing that his father wouldn´t tripple, but more or less bang about, for he would believe his son sound asleep by now, Steve combined that it had to be Jesse, who - as he thought in a moment of gloating phantasy - couldn´t sleep, too, because he felt guilty about having lied to his friends.
Without thinking about it, Steve crawled out of bed and grabbed his bathrobe and slippers.
He followed the soft noise to the kitchen and really found Jesse with a glass in his hand, turned to the sink.
Because he had his back to Steve, the detective strained to not startle him and said as softly as he possible could: "Hey Jess. Couldn´t sleep, either?"
Still, the younger man jumped and even let the glass fall down. It crashed to pieces loudly, and the doctor spun around to meet Steve´s apologizing wince.
"Uh ... sorry," the detective said in a small voice. "I didn´t mean ..."
But he stopped in midsentence once he looked in Jesse´s eyes. What met him there wasn´t anger or fright, but terror.
And Steve definitely couldn´t have expected what followed next, for not only did Jesse stare at him in fear, but he also attempted to back away, thereby stepping into the pieces of the glass.
"Jesse, your feet!" Steve called out warningly, but the younger man didn´t listen.
He didn´t even wince, when one piece of glass cut his bare skin, but now slowly started to sink down, too, for he´d found himself trapped between Steve and the sink.
His left hand had already touched another piece, when Steve rushed forward to grab hold of his other arm.
"Jess! What´re you doing?!"
But Jesse didn´t seem to recognise him. Terrified, he continued focusing the taller man, and whispered in fear: "Don´t hurt me. Please."
Shocked, Steve didn´t know what to say, so he decided to deal with the problem at hand by lifting his struggling friend into the air and dragging him out of the mess of pieces to safe ground.
"Let go off me!" Jesse begged, his voice still a mere whisper, his eyes squeezed shut now. "Leave me alone. Please!"
"Jesse, it´s me!" Steve said loudly when he´d sat his friend down again. He reached out for the still struggling doctor´s chin and lifted his head to make him look into his eyes.
Weak attempts of freeing his face from the grib, left the taller man´s arm and shirt bloodied as a cut hand touched them repeatedly.
"Hey! It´s me, Steve! I´m not going to hurt you. Jesse! Snap out of it!"
Finally Jesse´s struggles subsided, his eyes cleared as if a fog had rushed through them, but was now blown away by a fresh wind. Relieved, Steve let go off his chin and sat back to give him space to calm down.
The doctor blinked, and winced. First frowning at Steve´s bloodstrained shirt, he soonly lifted his cut hand to look at it.
"Ow," he finally stated confusedly, and gazed back at his friend. "What ...?"
He interrupted himself and looked around as if seeing the kitchen for the very first time.
"Steve?" he asked shakily and was obviously about to add another question, but didn´t know where to start.
"Yeah," the detective nodded, noticing surprisedly that he panted. "It´s alright, you´re at the beach house. Remember?"
Slowly, the smaller man nodded. He shivered and drew his knees to his nose to slung his arms around his legs, when another drop of blood connected with his trousers.
Gently, Steve grabbed his hand to hold it upright.
"You cut your hand on a piece of glass," he explained for he didn´t know wether Jesse remembered. Looking over his shoulder for a towel, he continued: "I startled you and you let the glass fall down."
He found a towell and gave it to Jesse, who pressed it on the bleeding gash, still confused, but quiet now and no longer afraid of his friend.
"You also cut your foot, I think," the detective said and looked down at the floor, were a slight shade of red marked the way he had carried Jesse.
"But it´s not that deep," he added when catching a glimpse of the cut on Jesse´s foot. "Won´t need stitches."
With that he looked back at the younger man, who´d followed his gaze, but hadn´t said a thing. A fact Steve found extremely disquieting for Jesse usually couldn´t keep himself from stating medical diagnosises. Even more so when they concerened himself.
But right now, he just looked blankly at his hand, his foot, his friend and the mess to this right. Though he seemed to be agitated, he moved slowly, a desperate frown never left his face. Steve started to wonder if he was in shock.
It´d probably be the best to wake his father, he decided, and was about to tell Jesse to remain where he was, when the doctor all of a sudden flinched again, hitting the wall behind his back. To Steve´s shock, his eyes widened once again in terror, staring at a spot behind the detective. His mouth opened in a soundless cry of fear.
But there was nothing there behind his back, Steve found as he turned to look.
"Jesse?" he asked unsurely, almost fearfully. "Jess, what the hell´s wrong with you?"
As to underline his question and because he didn´t know what to do, he grabbed hold of the doctor´s shoulders to gently, but firmly force him to look into his eyes.
"What´re you afraid of? Jesse?"
Jesse blinked. His eyes darted from behind Steve to him and back, suddenly growing even wider than before, though the detective wouldn´t have thought it possible.
He was more or less terrified himself by the time Jesse all of a sudden jumped to his feet, wincing as his injured one connected with the cold floor, and rushed to the back door and outside. There he stopped on the railing of the terrace, gasping for air.
It took Steve a few moments to bring himself to follow him outside, and even there he didn´t dare approach him, but remained behind him, concerned.
Finally, after what seemed to have been an eternity, Jesse turned around, leaning against the railing, and looked at his friend, the remnands on terror still visible in his eyes, though different now.
A different kind of fear.
"S-sorry," he croaked, cleared his throat and tried again. "I-I´m soory, Steve. I ..." He laughed softly, completely humorless. "I guess I ... ahm ... Oh, man, one hell of a nightmare that was," he finally said, not very convincing, but accompanied by a halfhearted grin. "Huh?"
"Nightmare?" Steve repeated doubtfully, now stepping nearer, though he still sensed his friend´s tension. "You had a nightmare?"
As Jesse hastened to nod, Steve frowned. "So what, you sleep-walk?"
"Ah ... no, well ... I must have, right? I mean, I was in the kitchen, so, yeah, guess, I sleep-walk."
"I didn´t know you sleep-walk."
"That´s probably because I´ve never done before," Jesse shot back, his voice rising in anger, but quickly calmed himself down. "I ... uh ... I guess it´s because of the concussion, you know."
"Hm." Steve was definitely not convinced. "You were scared of me," he finally said, sounding almost casually.
"Oh, really?" Jesse laughed nervously. "Well ... ah ... Why would I ... Probably causa the dream, y ´know. Tall dark figure ..." He grinned dryly. "Actually you can be quite scarry."
But Steve wasn´t ready for jokes, not yet. The image of Jesse huddling against the wall was still all too clear in his mind.
"But you ..."
"Look, ah, Steve, my hand´s still bleeding, and ... ahm, I´m kinda ... tired now. Aren´t you?So, why don´t we go inside - or hobble, that is," he added after casting a glance at the few strays of blood marking his way outside, "and go to sleep, huh? I just need your help for ..." He hold out his injured hand.
Deciding that there was no use in discussing the incident in the middle of the night, Steve sighed and finally nodded, surrendering.
"`kay,come in, I´ll go get some bandages."
He could almost feel the sensation of relief washing over his friend, when he turned and reentered the house.
His hand and feet bandaged, his head still aching, his breath coming out in still terrified little gasps, Jesse lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling.
This couldn´t be happening.
Inside the house there was no noise to be heard, execpt his own breaths, but still, he heard voices talking. Many of them.
He couldn´t understand a thing they said, but he felt that they were talking about him. About him, because he was crazy.
The voices didn´t belong to people, they belonged to his head. He knew that now.
He´d been woken up by them, by the voices, talking really loudly somewhere down in the kitchen, and he´d gone down to see who they were.
But there´d been no one. Just voices. Voices in the kitchen, but no bodies producing them ...
And then - he´d seen Steve, no, not Steve, but the dark, tall figure, and he´d backed away, and ...
He couldn´t help gasping in fear again. He´d been scared of Steve, he knew that now. He´d looked at Steve, but he hadn´t seen his friend, but a threatening, dark, tall figure which had been about to ... grab him and ...
He winced as pain shot through his hand, because he´d squeezed his blankett.
Don´t become afraid of people, Jesse Travis.
But he had been afraid. Like Dillard had been of him, Jesse. And like Dillard Jesse had begged and tried to flee and ... and ...
And then he´d seen her. Behind Steve. Smiling at him. Waving at him.
"Don´t be scared," she´d said in her sweet little-girl voice. "Don´t be scared."
"Sarah," he whispered as the scene was reproduced in his mind. Sarah had been standing right behind Steve, but the detective hadn´t seen her. And how did she come into the house?
With him, was the sickening answer. Sarah had entered the house being carried in his mind. She´d not been there in the kitchen.
She´d never been there.
She wasn´t real.
None of this was. But what was "this"? What was real?
"Oh god," he whispered in fear, and clung to his blankett till his hand hurt again. Even then he wouldn´t let go. The pain was there. It was real.
"Oh god, what´s happening to me?"
He´d never been so afraid in his entire life.