Disclaimer: All still apply.

SACRIFICES

(PART SIX)

Mark went straight from Steve's room to visit Jesse, not knowing what he would say to the young man if he asked to see Steve. He needn't have worried. The strange mood that had affected Steve seemed to have transferred itself to Jesse as well.

He didn't even move when Mark entered the room. He just lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. Even from a distance, Mark could see the tear tracks on his face.

"Give it time, Jess," he said, softly.

His voice got no response from the injured young man, but more tears rushed to replace those that had already fallen.

"Jesse?" Mark asked, perching on the edge of the bed. "Son, what is it?"

Jesse ignored him. Mark wanted nothing more than to gather him into a hug, but he had to stop himself. Jesse was just too fragile, both physically and emotionally.

"Jesse, please." Mark felt helpless and it wasn't a feeling that he liked. "Talk to me."

Jesse didn't even so much as blink. How could he talk to Mark, when he couldn't even bear to look at him? Mark had seen him, just as Steve and half a dozen other cops had seen him. How could he face any of them ever again, knowing that he would only see open disgust on their faces?

But Mark wasn't prepared to leave him like that. He reached out a tentative hand and gently touched his shoulder. When this failed to provoke a reaction, he grew bolder and gave that shoulder a loving squeeze.

"Don't shut me out, Jess. I want to help you. Please."

Jesse squeezed his eyes shut, trying to stop the desperate flow of tears. He knew that Mark wasn't going to go away, but he still couldn't bring himself to face him.

"Jess, I know that you've been through a terrible ordeal," Mark tried again. "But it won't help if you bottle it up. You need to..."

He trailed off as Jesse rolled over onto his side, away from him. Mark's hand dropped back to his side and he stared at Jesse's back, his heart aching at the desolation in his whole demeanour.

"Steve's doing better." Unwilling to just give up, Mark tried the same tact that he'd used on his son.

Jesse had been told the previous night that Steve was safe and Guy dead, but even that hadn't drawn a verbal response from him. All he could think about was Steve lying bleeding on the floor, Steve being dragged away from him, hardly able to walk. Steve looking back at him, horrified and ashamed by the level he had been reduced to.

Now, unseen by Mark, a fleeting smile touched Jesse's lips. Steve was going to be fine. It was all that he cared about. No matter what, he loved the detective and couldn't bear the thought of him being hurt. But now was the time to let go of that love. Every time he thought of Steve, he could only see the look on his face when he'd found him tied to that chair. It was hard to admit, but Jesse didn't think he'd ever be able to face him again after that.

*****

Mark put his glasses on to study the X-rays that Doctor King was showing him. Daniel King had been Jesse's surgeon, but he knew how close he and Mark were and had promised to involve the older doctor every step of the way.

Now, holding the X-rays up to the light, he could clearly see the damage that had been done to the young man's hand.

"As you can see," King was explaining. "Two of his fingers had relatively clean breaks, there was no damage to the knuckle and they should mend without any problems. As for the other two, well they're the real worry. They seem to have taken the brunt of... whatever was used on him."

Aside from his desperate pleas to find Steve, Jesse still hadn't said a word, so they were no closer to knowing exactly what he had been through.

"I've inserted metal pins, to try and encourage the bones to knit properly," King continued, needlessly. The pins clearly showed up on the X-rays. "But, to be honest, only time will tell. Maybe when the swelling goes down we can have another look, but... I'm sorry, Mark, I wish it was better news."

Mark nodded, still staring at the X-rays. He'd been desperately hoping for a more positive prognosis, so that he might go to his friend with some good news and maybe pull him out of his stupor that way. Unfortunately, 'maybe' didn't count as good news.

*****

Mark didn't think that he was ready to face Jesse with only more bad news, so he decided to delay the moment by visiting Steve on the way. His son's recovery was progressing nicely, even though his continuing bad mood didn't reflect that.

"How are you feeling, son?" Mark asked, sitting in the chair at the side of the bed.

Steve merely shrugged in response and Mark sighed heavily. Something was definitely wrong between his son and his closest friend and he needed to find out what. He decided to stop beating about the bush.

"Steve, I've just spoken to Jesse's surgeon."

"I don't care," Steve retorted, but Mark could tell from the way that he avoided meeting his gaze that he was lying.

"Well I think that you do care, so I'm going to tell you anyway," he continued, undaunted by the belligerent look his son flashed his way. "And you're going nowhere, so you've got no choice but to listen."

"Dad..." Steve tried to protest, knowing that it was futile. His leg, heavily bandaged in two places, kept him trapped in his hospital bed.

"I'll be blunt. It's not good news. There's a chance that Jesse may never fully recover from this." He leaned forward intensely. "And if that turns out to be the case, he's going to need all of our strength and support. He's especially going to need you, Steve."

Steve finally turned to look at his dad and Mark's heart went out to him. His eyes were filled with tears and there was a look of absolute anguish on his face.

"I can't," he gasped, trying to keep his emotions under control. "Don't you see? This is all my fault."

"Steve..."

"No, dad. He hurt Jesse to get at me." Steve closed his eyes as the first of his tears started to fall. "If Jesse is... If he doesn't... It would be my fault. How can I face him, knowing that I took away the thing he loves the most?"

"He loves you," Mark tried to convince him.

"No, he won't, not after this. I will have stopped him from being a doctor. How can he ever forgive me for that?"

"Oh, Steve." Mark leaned forward to put an arm around his son's trembling shoulders.

"I've got to let him go, dad. I'd rather lose him than see him go through something like that again."

"Is that why you won't go and see him? Because you feel guilty? I'm sure that Jesse doesn't blame you. It was just a set of circumstances beyond anybody's control. Give him a chance, son. Just talk to him."

Steve looked at him doubtfully, through red-rimmed eyes. Mark smiled gently, convinced that Jesse's unresponsiveness was a direct result of not having seen Steve and that, if he could get the two of them to talk, then the healing would really begin for both of them.

"Please, Steve," he said. "He needs you more now than he's ever needed you in his life before."

*****

Mark decided that it might be too much of a shock for him just to turn up at Jesse's room with Steve in tow. He also elected not to mention Doctor King's analysis of his hand, thinking that maybe, if he could do something about Jesse's mental state, then that news would be easier for him to take.

If he hadn't known better, Mark would have thought that Jesse hadn't so much as moved during the whole time he'd been away from his room. The young man still lay motionless, eyes open and staring at the ceiling. But his lunch tray was still on the table and it looked like he had at least picked at his food.

"Hi, Jesse," Mark said as he entered. "I was wondering if you were feeling up to having another visitor."

Receiving only silence in response, Mark pressed on: "Steve's just having his dressings looked at, then he wants to come and see you. Will that be okay?"

For the first time in two days, Jesse turned to look at his friend. It was a start, but Mark couldn't help but be concerned by the wary look on his face and the fear in his desolate blue eyes.

"You've made him come here," Jesse whispered. It had been so long since he'd spoken that his voice was barely audible.

"No, Jess," Mark answered. "He wants to see you."

Jesse simply stared at him for the longest moment, as though trying to judge the sincerity of his words. Then, without either agreeing to, or denying the request, he turned his gaze back to the ceiling.

"I'll just go and fetch him then," Mark said, taking his silence as acquiescence.

Once he'd gone, Jesse felt his heart beginning to race. It wasn't until that moment that he realised just how much he'd missed the detective. But it wasn't excitement that caused such a reaction in him, it was fear. Pure and unadulterated fear.

How would Steve react to him? Would they ever be able to get back to how they had been? That beautiful, tentative beginning to their relationship, that had been so rudely halted before they'd even had the chance to try.

He didn't have too long to dwell on such matters. Steve's room was only a few doors away from his and Mark was back in almost no time. And he was pushing a wheelchair.

Jesse heard the door open, but didn't dare turn to look, too afraid of what he might see. Mark positioned Steve as close as he could to Jesse's bed.

"He's here, Jess."

Mark was tempted to leave then, but wasn't so sure if that were a good idea. The cast on Steve's arm prevented him from moving the wheelchair himself and he didn't want his son to be stranded if the meeting did not go as planned. So he positioned himself at the back of the room, to allow them as much privacy as possible.

Jesse couldn't hide any more. Steve was right beside him and it was time to face both him and any possible future they might yet have together. Slowly, he rolled his head and looked at the man he loved.

"Jesse, I am so sorry," Steve said, unable to hide his distress as he saw the state that the young man was in.

Jesse could only stare back at him in horror, feeling the tears threaten again. The love that had so recently been apparent in Steve's beautiful blue eyes was gone. In it's place was pity.

With an anguished sob Jesse curled up onto his side, with his back to Steve, buried his face in his arms and began to cry. Pity. That was all Steve felt for him now.

Guy had managed to take everything away from him: his dignity, his career and now his love. He couldn't stand the thought of Steve staying with him just because he felt sorry for him. That would be one humiliation to many. It was best to make a clean break.

"Jesse..."

Steve didn't know what had gone wrong. He reached out to the sobbing man and touched his shoulder, but was forced to pull his hand back when Jesse jerked violently away.

"Just leave me alone!" Jesse cried, still not lifting his head. "Go away and leave me alone!"

TO BE CONTINUED...