Disclaimer: The usual all apply.

Author's notes: I love Jesse. Really I do, but I just can't stop writing these things!

SACRIFICES

(PART TWO)

Unlike Jesse, Steve hadn't been able to get away from work early that Friday, so he'd arranged for them to meet at Barbeque Bobs that evening. The plan was for them to have dinner, then spend the night at the beach house, ready for an early start on Saturday morning.

His father had told him about how he'd let Jesse get away early, to give him plenty of time to pack, so he was surprised when he arrived at their co-owned restaurant and found no sign of his partner. He spoke to his the staff, but none of them had seen any sign of Jesse. Feeling strangely apprehensive, he called his dad.

"Are you sure that Jesse actually left the hospital when his shift finished this afternoon?" he asked, desperate to find some reason for the other man's absence. "He didn't just fall asleep somewhere, did he?"

"No, I can assure you, Jesse was so excited about this trip, I couldn't have kept him here if I'd wanted to." Mark's astute ears had picked up the concern in Steve's voice. "You know what he's like at packing, have you called his apartment?"

"Repeatedly, but there's no answer. He's not answering his pager either."

"Well, maybe he got bored waiting. Have you tried the beach house?"

"Yes, dad and he's not there either." Steve tried, but failed to keep the worry out of his tone. "I don't know where else to look."

"Now listen, Steve, I'm sure it's nothing to worry about. There could be any number of reasons for him running late."

"At the moment he's more than four hours late and you said yourself that he was looking forward to this weekend. I'm gonna head over to his place and if he does get in touch, just tell him to wait for me at Bobs."

"Will do," Mark started to answer, before swiftly realising that he was talking to himself. His son had already hung up.

*****

It was a slow and painful awakening for Jesse later that evening. His head seemed to throb in rhythm to the rapid beating of his heart. The dry, analytical part of his brain told him that he probably had a concussion. Intrigued by his own ability to self-diagnose in spite of his pain, the young doctor cracked his eyes open.

He was in a sparsely furnished room, seated before a table whose only contents were a telephone and a notepad.

Full realisation kicked in just a moment later. He wasn't seated before the table. He was in fact, tied to a chair. His wrists were bound behind him and his ankles were secured to the legs of the chair.

Following swiftly on the heels of that realisation, was the fact that he was dressed only in his boxer shorts. All of a sudden, his skin seemed to shrink and goose flesh raced up his arms. Someone had stripped him whilst he'd been unconscious. The thought left him feeling sick to his stomach. He went to lick at suddenly dry lips, only to discover that there was a gag across his mouth.

Jesse felt himself beginning to panic. He was almost naked and completely helpless, in an unfamiliar room, at the mercy of unknown assailants. As his over-active imagination began to race through dozens of horrific scenarios, the door suddenly opened, causing Jesse to flinch violently.

Two men came into the room and Jesse couldn't help but cower away, as the strangers slowly began to walk towards him. Fleeting images of Marcus Marriott flashed through his brain, even though the tiny part of him that remained rational insisted that it could not be possible.

"So you're finally awake."

It wasn't Marriott, as Jesse had known it wouldn't be, but that did little to allay his fear as one of them grabbed a handful of his hair and forced him to look up at him.

"Before I went to prison, I would never have even considered going with a man. But in prison, you don't get a choice."

He forced Jesse's head even further back and bent over him, menacingly.

"Do you know how disgusting that is? Do you know what that does to a man? Your boyfriend did that to me. Your sick, perverted boyfriend."

The man abruptly released his hold on the captive's hair and turned away. Then, just as suddenly, he span around and back-handed Jesse, hard, across the mouth. The chair rocked under the force of the blow, but didn't tip over.

"Well, now it's payback time."

Jesse shivered at the threat in his captor's tone. He turned his frightened eyes towards the second man, but he just looked back at him, distaste clearly evident on his face. Then Jesse's tormentor grabbed hold of his chin and forced him to look back at him.

"When all this is over," he whispered, his face very close to the bound man's. "Your boyfriend will be dead. And I'll have done the world a favour."

The second man, who had so far remained silent, took a half-step forward.

"You wanna do it now, Guy?" he asked.

Guy regarded their captive for a long moment, then shook his head: "No, let him sweat for a while. We'll do it first thing in the morning."

With that the two of them left the room, leaving Jesse bound and gagged and alone with his fears.

*****

Steve was going frantic with worry. It was after midnight and there was still no sign of Jesse. When he'd got to the doctor's apartment and found the Mustang parked in its usual spot, he had allowed himself the brief hope that he'd been worrying for nothing, that Jesse had simply fallen asleep at home. That hope, however, proved to be short lived when Steve let himself into the apartment and found no sign of his friend. There was a small pile of mail on the mat, suggesting to Steve that Jesse hadn't even made it through the front door. Jesse's overnight bag was still in the bottom of the wardrobe.

The seasoned detective frowned as he looked around the small apartment. Jesse had driven home but, for some reason, had not made it inside. He'd gone back outside and quickly checked the Mustang, but that offered him no clues, then he'd questioned all of the neighbours.

When that laborious and fruitless task was over, Steve had been at a loss as to where else to look. He'd called his dad, but he'd heard nothing from Jesse either. Finally and with his apprehension growing rapidly, he'd called the station.

Jesse hadn't been missing long enough to be officially classed as a missing person, but enough people owed him favours and he was slightly appeased by the knowledge that the search for the young doctor had begun.

After that, the hours had dragged by with tortuous slowness. Steve had gone back to the beach house and met up with his dad. There they had waited and worried together. As the night dragged on, both of them eventually had to give in to their exhaustion and grabbed a couple of hours sleep.

*****

Jesse barely slept at all. As tired as he was, his discomfort would only allow him to slip into a light doze. Even the slightest noise, real or imagined, jerked him back awake. It was pitch black in the room he was in and he had no idea as to even the time of day and there was no way for him to track the passage of time. The night seemed to drag on forever.

He must have slept eventually, because the next thing he knew, he was being slapped roughly around the face. He dragged himself back to consciousness, wincing as his cramped muscles protested at the movement. Now there was a light source, somewhere behind him and he looked up to find Guy, once again, leaning over him.

"Wake up, you little faggot."

He moved round to the back of Jesse and tugged at his bonds, checking them in case the doctor had struggled during the night and loosened them. Jesse wished that he'd been able to, but his arms were almost completely numb.

"I do hope that you slept well." With unnecessary roughness he tore the gag from Jesse's mouth. "Because today is your big day."

"Who are you?" the young doctor managed to croak. His mouth was parched and he licked his dry lips.

"Who I am doesn't matter." Guy answered. "It's who you are that's important. You're going to call Steve Sloan and you're going to tell him to come here."

"No," Jesse whispered. He remembered what Guy had said about killing Steve and wasn't about to lead him into a trap.

"Believe me, you will. Mitch! Get in here!"

The other man must have been waiting just outside the door, as he entered the moment he was called. Jesse could see that he was holding a gun.

"It looks like our friend is going to need a little persuasion," Guy told him, his tone menacing.

Mitch smiled nastily and tucked the gun into his waistband. Without hesitation, he strode to where Jesse sat, then punched him hard in the stomach. The doctor cried out, but his bonds wouldn't even allow him to double over. A second brutal blow followed, this time to his face.

"Now, now." Guy placed a restraining hand on the thug's arm. "Don't get carried away. We discussed how we're going to do this, remember?"

Mitch nodded reluctantly and moved around the back of the chair. Jesse could feel him beginning to untie him. He tried to tense his muscles, to prepare himself to fight the moment that he was free, but then Guy pulled out his own gun and calmly pointed it at him.

"Let's not do anything stupid, hey doc?"

A moment later and Mitch was finished. Jesse's left arm had been freed, but his right was still securely bound. The thug pushed Jesse's chair closer to the table and forced his left hand onto it, palm down and with his fingers splayed. There he held him in an iron grip.

"I'm going to tell you one more time," Guy snarled. "Call your boyfriend and tell him to come here. The address is right there."

Jesse's eyes dropped to the notepad on the table and saw what was written on it. At least now he knew where he was, but he didn't know what good that information would do him. He certainly wasn't going to pass it on to Steve.

Even though fear raced through him, he knew he couldn't betray the man that he loved. Silently dreading the consequences, Jesse shook his head.

"Make the call."

Jesse stared silently at the telephone, desperately trying to think of a way to stall for time. Guy moved to stand on his left side, next to the man who still held him.

"You're a doctor, a surgeon, right? And from what I've heard, you're pretty good at it. How good would you be if I were to break all of your fingers?"

Jesse tensed, knowing what was coming, but completely unable to struggle against Mitch's grip. Guy suddenly slammed the butt of his gun onto the doctor's exposed little finger, just below the knuckle and Jesse cried out as the skin split and the bones were smashed.

"Not once." Guy repeated the action, just above the knuckle, forcing another cry from the captive. "But twice."

He poised the gun over Jesse's ring finger.

"I'll break every bone in your hands, both of them, if I have to." The gun was slammed down for a third time. "Make the call."

TO BE CONTINUED...