Yeah! Double-Yeah! Done, I´m done!
"Leered" didn´t quite turn out how I wanted it to be, but I have another story in mind, so hopefully I can make it up to you next time. And hopefully you enjoyed this a little, anyway.
Thanks for the reviews! You guys have been really kind as always. And of course special thanks to Pinky-Kiddo, whose new chaaaaaaaaaaaapters are always reason enough to party! Don´t hang `round the stations, kiddo, but WRITE! Otherwise I´m gonna tell those four Harvs of yours to have a good talk to you ... Grin. Love you, kid, keep DOING it!
Disclaimers still the same. I own all the bad guys, but they´re not very cute. That´s why I decided to kill most of them. Lucky Jess, huh?
Enjoy!
"Shit!"
He´d hit his best friend. He´d really done it. He´d hit Jesse.
"Great, Sloan, just great! Great, great, great, great, GREAT!"
Hitting the wheel in frustration, Steve Sloan stepped on the gas a little harder, but got a grib on himself fast enough to not kill someone.
"I can´t believe I did this! I hit Jesse!" A short pause followed. "And now I´m talking to myself. This is not happening! This is definitely not happening! - Oh shit!"
A nervous laugh escaped his lips, but couldn´t cover the grim expression on his face.
Carlie hadn´t been killed. She´d killed herself.
"Oh god ..."
Squeezing wheels transported the vehicle to a halt at the side of the road. The figure in it layed his arms over the wheel and placed his forehead on it. Cars rushed by, taking no notice of the catastrophe that revealed itself inside the parking one.
Steve´s thoughts whirled in circles. Carlie had been killed. Taken away from him. Forcefully. She didn´t go.
She didn´t go. She never have ...
Oh, who was he trying to kid?! This was Jesse! Jesse! No matter what was going on with him, Jesse Travis would never lie to him about something like that, never.
Slowly, Steve lifted his head off his arms.
It had to be true. Carlie had shot herself. And her father.
"This is not true! It is not TRUE!" he yelled, punching his wheel so hard it hurt. Yet, he knew it was.
"You don´t want the truth," he heard Jesse´s voice echoing in his head and covered his eyes with his hands.
Drawing in a deep breath, he let his hand slid down his face to his chin. Jesse had told the truth.
The question was: how did Jesse know the truth?
It took Steve exactly two seconds to start the engine again. His hands were trembling.
Mark swept a hand over his eyes. Though he knew he wasn´t really, he felt totally spent, exhausted. He´d tried to call Steve a few times, but each time he´d only received the unsatisfying information that his son wasn´t available at the moment.
Well, that was understandale, Mark mused. He would want to vanish from the face of earth, too, if he´d just knocked his best friend into next week, but knowing his son, he was still surprised at the cell phone´s say. Steve wasn´t exactly the sort of man who´d run away, no matter what. But then, he wasn´t exactly the sort of man who´d hit his friends, either.
Sighing deeply, Mark cast a long glance at the sleeping young man on the only bed in the room. Amanda and he had carried the unconscious Jesse over to an available room and tried to rouse him, but without success. The previous beating, the exhaustion, both physical and emotional, had finally taken their toll on the young man, and he wouldn´t wake to their soft calls and ruttles. Finally, they´d decided to let him slee. He surely looked like he could need it.
Dark circles marked the soft skin under his eyes, and even in sleep his features were drawn. The new bruise on his chin that perfectly matched the Band-Aid on his forehead and the slight swelling of his eye beneath, had taken on a blueish look, as if it knew it was the sad one, the one which never should have been called into existence.
Glancing over at the telephone, Mark wondered if he should try to call Steve one more time, but quickly decided against it. Eventually, Steve would make his appearance in here, that was for sure. He´d seen the look in his son´s eyes as he´d fled the room. The pure shock at what he´d just done, what he´d just heard.
Yes, what they all had heard. "You wanna know the truth?"
Mark couldn´t remember Jesse´s voice ever having been so cold than in that devastating second he´d told the truth. And the truth it was, Mark didn´t have a doubt about that. Maybe Jesse had lied to them about how he´d been hurt or where he was spending his time, but Mark couldn´t shake off the feeling that all this lies had served a certain purpose, that they were in some way a sign of the young man´s courage, of something great he´d done.
Great and stupid, the older doctor thought with a grim smile, while he once more lifted Jesse´s shirt slightly to look at the still present bruises on his abdomen.
"What have you gotten yourself into now, Jess, huh?" he asked under his breath, and flinched, when suddenly a shrill beeping filled the room. Grabbing the device, which he´d placed on the little table next to the bed, Mark quickly left the room and turned it off as to not wake Jesse. The young doctor wasn´t in any condition to treat a patient now, anyway. Besides, Mark had the undoubtable feeling that the device was somehow part of the scheme Jesse had tried to hide from them. It seemed to have been producing it´s annoying sound a little too often lately.
Checking the number on the display, Mark found he didn´t know it. The knot in his throat tightened a little. If what he thought was right, his young friend was in a lot more trouble than he´d assumed in the first place ... But there was only one way to find out.
He stepped over to the next telephone and dialed the number the display showed him.
Almost immediately, a female voice answered: "Practice Dr. Donahue, what can I do for you?"
The name fairly rang a bell, but he couldn´t quite remember where or when he´d heard it. "This Dr. Mark Sloan from Comunity General. You just called one of our doctors, Dr. Jesse Travis, and I ..."
"I´m sorry, sir, but there has to be a mistake," the voice interrupted him sweetly. "Goodbye."
"Yeah. Goodbye," Mark hastened to say as memory kicked in. Donahue´s practice. God, why hadn´t he thought of it earlier?! He was really getting old!
Practically slamming the receiver back on it´s place, while he continued to mentally kick himself into next next year, he whirled on his heels to race back to Jesse´s room.
"Okay, young man," he announced his anger before he even had opened the door, "you will answer some questions now, y..."
The room was empty.
"Oh goddamnit! Jesse!!!"
Jesse heard Mark´s calls alright, but they actually only made him run faster. That the ER was on the lowest floor proved to be a fact to be grateful for once more.You could climb through the windows and take off so easily! Voice of experience speaking, Jesse thought wryly.
He´d waken to the noise of his beeper, but since he really didn´t feel up to do a lot of explaining, he´d lay still till Mark had left the room. Probably to call whoever was calling him, most likely Donahue. So they all would know everything soon. If he wanted to clear up this mess he had to hurry.
It didn´t actually do his ribs any good to climb out of a window and jump to the ground. A few seconds, Jesse just lay where he´d landed, trying to catch his breath and waiting for his vision to clear. To the throbbing pain in his head there was now a new sting to it, emerging from his sore chin. "I´m so glad Steve´s usually on my side," he whispered to himself, but couldn´t find any comfort in wise-cracking this time. He´d seen Steve´s eyes before the lieutenant had hit him. He couldn´t remember ever having seen so much pain in anyone´s eyes. And to think it was him who´d placed it there ...
Shaking off the memory, he forced himself back on his feet. "No time to get all moody now, Travis," he inwardly told himself. "Gotta get moving!"
So off he ran, Mark´s calls fading as the distance got greater.
He didn´t get very far, though. All of a sudden, out of nowhere, a car appeared right next to his limping form, forcing him to stop. The weary feeling of something completely unwanted starting to happen here grabbed hold of the already damaged young man, and he slightly stumpled back.
Again, he didn´t get far. With incredible speed, two large men bounced out of the car and grabbed his arms roughly.
"You Jesse Travis?" one of them asked. He looked about as much a bad guy-assistent as you could possibly look. His name was probably Snake or Pancake, Jesse mused while trying to figure out what to answer. He suddenly got the feeling that being Jesse Travis wasn´t really a good thing right now.
"Ahm ..." was all he managed to answer, before he was interrupted by the second guy holding him.
"´course it´s him, you idiot! You see `nother small whacked guy here?!" He obviously was the wise part of the duo. "`kay, short shanks, you know the drill, right? Move!"
"Who are you?" Jesse asked, while he felt himself being shoved towards the car. Weak struggles were all he could put against the process; the guys didn´t even bother to pay attention to those.
"Shut up," wise-part said casually.
"But I ..."
"He said shut up!" the one referred to as "idiot" yelled and let his stone-like fist connect with the young man´s sore ribcage. The unmistakable sound of cracking bone accompanied the anguished cry that followed. Jesse felt the air leaving his lungs explosion-like, blackness started to overpower his vision. He could wearily feel cold concrete under his palms and cheek, but his surroundings presented themselves blurred, fuzzy.
"Oh great, Georgie, now you carry him!"
"Why me?"
"Well, I didn´t see me knocking him out!"
"He´s not out! Hey, short shanks! - See, he´s still with us, right, kid?"
As he lifted his gaze to the slaps in his face and the calls, Jesse felt himself being dragged to his feet and over to the car where he was thrown inside unceremoniously. The door was slammed shut. The bang hurt his ears and head.
"Don´t go there, Georgie, you´re not gonna drive!"
"Phew! I don´t wanna drive YOUR stupid car!"
"Georgie," Jesse thought with a wry smile, "I´ve just been kidnapped by a guy named Georgie. God help me."
"Hey, short shanks, what´re you laughing about?" Georgie snapped at the rearview mirror.
"You, pal," Jesse whispered.
Fortunately, the darkness drew him in it´s blissfull embrace before he could feel Georgie´s hand come down on his face.
Pain. Jesse was definitely feeling pain emerging from his chest and head. To be honest, it emerged from everywhere. In addition to the sudden cold breeze that let his skin come out in goose-flesh.
"Great, Georgie, just great! You knocked him out for good," an angry voice said near to Jesse´s ear, before a slap to his face made him cringe slightly. Gee, if Georgie only had!
Maybe he was in hell.
"Naw, I didn´t. See, he´s coming to already. He was only taking a little nap, right, short shanks?"
And even the devils were making fun of his size.
"Hey, sleepin´ beauty, gotta wake up now," the previous voice reappeared, along with another slap. "You´ll miss your big moment."
Somehow Jesse couldn´t shake off the feeling that it´d be a lot more healthier to miss his big moment, but then it turned out to not be his choice. Suddenly a large hand was placed tightly over his mouth and nose, making it impossible for him to draw in breath.
Panicing, he tried to grab the hand, but found he couldn´t. Something was keeping him from moving his hands to his front from behind his back. Something rough and carving around his wrists.
"You wanna breathe again, you open your eyes now," the one who wasn´t Georgie said.
Jesse didn´t have to think about the decision long, almost immediately his eyes flew open, begging for air.
"Aww, isn´t he cute?" the guy asked without removing his hand.
"Yeah, and now let him breathe, Tobey. He´s turning blue."
Casting his weakly struggling victim a regretting glance, Tobey hesitantly took away his hand.
Almost passing out from the sensation of air being invited into his lungs again, Jesse gasped and coughed. As his vision cleared slowly, he took in his new surroundings.
Firstly, there were of course Georgie and Tobey, who stood at each of his sides, large and ugly and dangerous, like some mythical god´s true dumb pets. They both wore grey suits, had slicked-back brown hair and could have gotten "professionals" written all over their forehead without making it more obvious what they did for a living.
By that criteria they surely matched the room.
An old, rotten-looking warehouse with broken windows and no sign whatsoever of what it originally had been built for. Jesse´d seen hundreds of rooms like this - on tv. He´d always wondered how the bad guys found the perfect warehouse to torture their victims. Anyway, now the question suddenly seemed not that important anymore.
Contrary to the victims he´d seen on tv, though, he wasn´t bound to a chair, which probably would have been at least less cold, but had just been thrown to the ground, where he sat leaning against a wall with his hands bound behind his back. His ribs hurt. His head hurt. His arms hurt.
All in all, "miserable" didn´t even cover his state. Not to mention frightened. Terrified.
Swallowing dryly, Jesse carefully glanced back at Georgie and Tobey. He didn´t dare ask them why they had brought him here, for he was pretty sure he didn´t want to find out, anyway.
He didn´t have a doubt that he would eventually, though. And that he probably already knew.
"Well, well," a sudden voice echoed through the large empty room, and soon afterwards a tall, slender figure limped slowly into it. A chocolate gaze was layed upon the shivering young man on the ground, quickly followed by a satisfied, somewhat evil smile. "Welcome to you, Dr. Travis."
Jesse wasn´t exactly surprised as he watched Raymond Liotta approach him even more, but he sure felt fear rising inside him at the thought of what was certainly about to come now.
"You shouldn´t be up," he said, trying to sound casually. He couldn´t help his voice shaking slightly, though. "You might tear up those stitches of mine."
"Oh, I doubt that," Liotta replied with a friendly grin. "You did really great work. Quite a skilled young man, y´are, right?"
"Some people think that," Jesse answered with a quick smile.
"And they´re right. No false modesty now! By the way did I ever thank you for saving my life?"
"I got the feeling you´ll do that now," Jesse said with a nervous laugh.
Liotta cast him a long, knowing look and finally nodded grinningly.
"So how did you find out?" the young doctor asked.
Surprised, Liotta´s brows flew up. "You don´t remember?"
At Jesse´s frown, he chuckled. "Sorry to tell you this, Travis, but actually you told me."
"Told ..." Jesse whispered confusedly.
Again, Liotta looked at him hard, then snapped with his fingers loudly, sending Georgie off in a rush to get a chair for him, on which he slowly sat down. His side was obviously still bothering him. He was pale, and a slight shade of sweat shined on his forehead.
"You knew her name," he finally said coldly.
A pause followed. Jesse stared at his captor without understanding. Whose name had he known? Wha... And then it kicked in. Her name. He´d said her name back at he practice. And now Liotta thought ...
"Wait, this is all wrong, I ..." he tried, but was cut off by a sharp gesture of Liotta´s hand, that mentioned Tobey to grab a handfull of the young man´s hair and hold him still.
Bending a little forward - he obviously rather had his own hands arround his captive´s neck now - Liotta narrowed his eyes. "Wrong, doc? I don´t think so. You knew Carlie´s name. Thought I was too out of it to notice your dismay at what I told you? - You thought I killed her," he added after a moment´s thought, " didn´t you?"
"Yes," Jesse admitted.
"Yes. That´s why you wanted to work for me." A soft chuckle escaped Liotta as he shook his head in amusement. "Did you really think I would take you for a junkie?"
"Ah ... You didn´t, huh? Well, guess that´s sort of a compliement," the young man muttered and was rewarded with a sharp, quieting look.
"I don´t mind you thought I was a killer," Liotta said casually, raising his hands as if to show he was unarmed. "I don´t mind that you cheated your way into my practice, too. Hell, you did great there," he added with an innocent smile, which gave way to the coldest of all cold gazes in a split second. "But you stole my girl. And I´m gonna make you pay for that."
The doctor´s eyes grew wide. "Wha... No! I didn´t! I ..."
"It wasn´t you?" Liotta asked, not believing him. "Okay then, give me a name, and you can go. C´mon, doc, just a name." At the following silence, a melancholic smile spread on his lips. "Carlie wasn´t the sort of woman you´d deny. Right?"
"Right," Jesse nodded. His own words sounded far away in his ears, as if another person had spoken them. He couldn´t believe he was doing this, but then he´d known from the second Liotta had entered the room, he would do it. What else could he do?
Chocolate eyes met blue crystal ones with understanding, sadness, sympathy, maybe even friendship. Glancing away, the older man stated: "I don´t blame you for having fallen for her. I don´t hate you. You loved her, just like I did. Carlie was put on this earth to be loved."
After a short pause of memories, he looked back at his captive, who was staring up at him hopelessly. "But she was my woman. You understand? My woman. And you took her from me. You had no right to do that. You stole from me," he added calmly. "I don´t let anyone steel from me."
Before Jesse could think of anything to answer, though he didn´t have a clue what, he felt Georgie´s hands on his shoulders, forcing him forward, while Tobey cut through the ropes that bound his hands. Not knowing what they had in mind, Jesse frowned in fear and tried to keep hold of Liotta´s gaze, silently questioning him.
"You´re a thief, Jesse Travis," the older man explained.
Still frowning at the answer he didn´t understood, Jesse glanced at Tobey, who´d grabbed his left hand by now, paying no attention to the visible injuries it wore. Georgie had gotten a tight hold of his right arm, forcing it to remain behind his back.
Gasping from the pain Tobey caused, Jesse feebly tried to free his hand, but only earned a blow to the face for his efforts. Dazed, he turned his head away, fearing more slaps to come, and got a short glimpse of Georgie´s joyfull grin to his right.
"D´you know what happens to thieves, Dr. Travis?" Liotta asked. He´d leant back comfortably in his chair and watched the scenery closely.
A sudden flash of every "1001 Nights"-stories he´d ever read rushed through Jesse´s mind at the question, and more panicked than he´d ever been, he turned his head to look at what Tobey was doing again.
The larger man had pinned his hand in a tight grib against the wall behind the doctor and was by now fumbling with his gun.
Jesse was pretty sure his eyes couldn´t grew any wider. "Please!" He wanted to scream, but only a chocked whisper left his lips. A begging plea lay in his gaze as it now flew back to Liotta, who shrugged.
"Think of it as a modern way of the old-fashioned punishment," he said, nodding at Tobey to get ready. "You won´t steel from me again, kid."
"No!" Jesse begged. Confronted with Tobey´s gun now being painfully pushed against the soft flesh of his palm, Jesse finally had gotten back his speech. And he was using it excessively. "Please! No!" He didn´t care wether he sounded pathetically, wether they would think him weak. He was scared beyond caring for anything. The prospect of having his hand torn to pieces made his head swim and his voice shriek with terror. "C´mon, you´re not really gonna do this!" he laughed out hysterically. "You can´t!"
"Watch me," Liotta whispered.
"No! No! Please! Plea..."
Tobey pulled the trigger. Georgie sweared loudly as he covered his ears. The young man´s ear-splitting scream echoed through the room. Raymond Liotta folded his hands on his chest.
"No, you won´t steel from anyone again."
Detective Grady Leer whirled around, startled, as the door to the interrogation room he was in was thrown open with a loud bang.
"Slo..." he started confusedly as he recognized the large figure of Lieutenant Steve Sloan standing in the door.
"You," Steve interrupted him, pointing at the man Grady had been interrogating before, who was sitting at the only table in the bleak room, "out."
"Hey!" Leer protested. "Wait a minu..."
"I said out!" Steve growled threateningly. Without bothering to glance at Leer another time, the man rushed out of the room, closing the door behind him carefully as if to not enrage the large man any more.
Inside, Steve didn´t move an inch, stood where he was, staring at Leer, who could feel the hairs on his neck rise in anticipation.
"`kay, Sloan," he finally said calmly, moving himself in front of the table so that he was now facing his colleague, " care to tell me what´s that all about?"
"Who´s your undercover guy?"
The look in Leer´s eyes gave the answer away instantly, but still he raised his brows in surprise. "Beg your pardon?"
"Who´s your guy?"
"C´mon, Sloan," Grady laughed, "you know I can´t tell you that, it´s classified information."
With incredible speed, Steve had the smaller man pinned on the wall with his arm pressing against his throat forcefully. "Will it still be classified information when you won´t be there anymore to know it?" he asked furiously.
"Hey, man ..." Leer croaked, desperately trying to draw much needed oxygen into his lungs.
"I´m gonna ask you one more time, Grady. Who is on the undercover assignment?"
For a split second, Leer´s gaze locked with Steve´s. "Okay, okay," he gasped. "It´s Jesse Travis. Now let me go!"
Reluctantly, Steve drew away his arm, Leer stumpled over to the table, grabbing an edge of it to steady himself as he was coughing and rubbing his throat. "Hell, Sloan, it´s not my fault! The little guy practically begged me to let him do it!"
"How dare you send him in there?!" Steve replied fiercely. "You knew he´s my friend!"
"And I knew he´s a doctor," Grady shot back, taking a small step away from the table. "So what´re you saying, because he´s your friend he isn´t allowed to help the police? Correct me if I´m wrong, but don´t you do this sorta things all the time?!"
"That´s different!" Steve objected, though a shadow of guilt was set free in his eyes by the words.
"Oh yeah?! Why? I don´t see the difference! He knows the risks when he´s doing it for you and he knew them this time, too."
"He was forced to take drugs!" Steve yelled, though he knew Grady was right. If Jesse´d chosen to accept an undercover assignment there was nothing Steve could do about it. Deep inside he knew he wasn´t mad at Grady Leer. Not even at Jesse, though when he ever got his hands on the young doctor, he would lock him up in the hospital and make sure of him to never leave it without his permission again. No, he was furious at himself. For not having noticed what was going on. For having given Jesse the feeling he needed to do this to help him. He´d no doubt about Jesse´s motives.
Leer laughed out loudly. "Hell, Steve, he´s an adult! Yes, I admit it might have been due to the assignment, but still it´s his choice if he decides to actually take the stuff they give their guys there." Shrugging, he sat down at the table casually. "Maybe he liked it. Ever thought ´bout that? Doctors, they´re made up that way."
Another quick move of the lieutenant left his hand grabbing Leer´s collar, practically half-dragging him off the chair. "Maybe you´d like to ..."
"What you want from me, man?!" Leer yelled fearfully, casting an angry look at Steve´s enraged face. "It was his choice! And you know why he did it," he added calmer, "don´t ya?"
Steve failed to notice the quick smile that rushed over his colleague´s features as he bowed his head in regret. The words had stung like a slap in the face.
The ringing of his cell phone cut through the silence like a knife. Releasing Grady from his grib, Steve pulled it out and answered it, his voice shaking with emotion. He cleared his throat and repeated himself, then fell absolutely still as he listened to the words spoken to him.
Grady watched him with interest. He had a pretty good idea about what was told to the lieutenant, but he waited patiently for Steve to mumble a short goodbye and put away his phone.
As he turned to face Grady, who eyed him questioningly, the smaller man could see the worry written all over his face. His features were drawn with concern, his eyes cold with despise when he informed his colleague: "Jesse´s gone. He ran away from the hospital."
Leer looked at him silently.
"If you know where he might be going, Grady ..."
Raising his hands in defeat, Grady Leer shook his head. "I don´t have someone following him everywhere if that´s what you think. And actually he quitted this afternoon."
Half a minute passed by, before Steve finally turned and opened the door. For the very first time in his life he felt small, not in control of the situation.
"Grady," he asked, not looking at Leer, while he still held the door half open. "Since when did you know about Carlie?"
Leer lifted his head slightly and raised his brows. "You better hurry," he said. "The kid seemed to be pretty out of it when I last saw him. We don´t want him end up doing something stupid, do we?"
"If anything happens to Jesse," Steve growled, making a threatening step towards the smaller man, but got a grip on himself fast enough, "I´m gonna fry your ass so hard you´ll be lucky to just get suspended!" With that he turned to leave the room before he could change his mind and simply kill the man inside of it.
Detective Grady Leer remained where he stood, rubbing a hand over his throat. One corner of his mouth twitched to a crooked smile.
"What time is it?" Georgie asked impatiently.
Rolling his eyes, Tobey sighed deeply. "Gee, half a second later than the last time y´asked, idiot."
"He shoulda been here hours ago!" Georgie complained whinyly. A yawn broke free on his face, he didn´t bother to cover it with his hand.
"You´re exaggerating," Tobey replied. "He said he´d be back in two hours, and it´s been exactly two hours. Why don´t you go on our guest´s nerves for a change, huh? I bet he´s bored, too."
Following his partner´s gaze over to the pathetic heap on the floor that once had been a fairly healthy looking young doctor, Georgie grimaced. "Nah, guy said we shouldn´t kill shorty." Obviously that brought a thought to the otherwise mostly thought-free area of his brain, and he cast Tobey a worried look. "Did you check on him, anyway? Like if he´s still alive?"
"Georgie, I can see him breathe from here."
That was a little exaggerated, for Jesse´s breathing had become so shallow that Tobey couldn´t possibly see it from where he and his partner were standing, but fortunately he was right nevertheless. The young man was unconscious, but alive.
After Raymond Liotta had watched with business-like interest how Jesse´s left hand had been turned into a useless boundle of bloodied flesh, he´d excused himself. "I´m gonna lay down for a short while. Doctor´s orders," he´d added with a dry smile at the wriggling man on the ground. "I want him to be still alive when I come back, you hear?"
"Sure, sir," Tobey had nodded obediently.
"As far as that - do with him whatever you wanna do," were Liotta´s parting words as the door fell closed behind him.
It didn´t take Georgie and Tobey long to decide it was boring just sitting there in the cold watching their young captive lay on the ground, clamping his shattered hand, groaning, so they´d taught him a lesson of their own. It was what they were good at, so why not do it?
Besides, it was sort of relaxing to work off their aggressions and frustration on the helpless man, who they knew nothing about, anyway. Maybe he even deserved it. Whatever the truth was, when they let go off him, Jesse Travis looked reduced to a heap on the floor.
His shirt was torn in so many places, it actually were a bunch of rags covering his lacerated body underneath. There wasn´t much bleeding to be seen - Georgie and Tobey were professionals, trained to keep the mess to a minimum - but hardly a spot on his body that wasn´t turning blue or black. The young man was covered with bruises, and eventully he´d given up his attempts to stay conscious and had fled into a mercyfull darkness some time ago.
Now the boredom had returned with a vengance to the two men. They´d told each other every new joke they´d heard over the last week till they´d run out of them.
A low moan drew their attention to Jesse again, who was slowly coming to, much to his disadvantage, for there wasn´t a spot on his body which didn´t hurt and not a single motion to perform which didn´t sent waves of pain through his nerves.
"Short shanks´ wakin´ up," Georgie informed his partner as he slightly approached the moving figure.
Tobey rolled his eyes. "Don´t say."
"No really, he ..."
"I can see that, dumbo!" Tobey growled, and followed Georgie over to Jesse, whose eyes had begun to flicker open by now.
"Hey shorty," Tobey grinned at him. "Welcome back! Happy to see us again, ain´t ya?"
As an answer, Jesse closed his eyes again, but was kept from slipping back into unconsciousness by Georgie´s hands grabbing the pathetic remains of his shirt and yanking him to a half-standing position. A small cry of protest escaped the young doctor, but he´d learned his lesson: he didn´t struggle at all against the butal treatment.
Receiving a "no fun"-look from his partner, Georgie then ruttled Jesse roughly, as a sudden bang echoed loudly through the building.
Before he could even turn fully around to see what it had been, Tobey felt the impact of a bullet sending him flying through the air. He hit the wall behind him and was dead when he slid to the ground.
Georgie´s frantic gaze flew to the door, he still held the only semi-aware Jesse by the collar. The young doctor´s eyes had snapped open at the sounds, but he only had a vague idea of what was going on around him. His head was protesting against the act of thinking, and his senses were actually busy informing him about all the places they received "Hurts!"-messages from.
So Jesse didn´t see Grady Leer enter the room and aim at Georgie, who was still too shocked to let go off his captive and draw his gun.
"Hi," Leer greeted him with a bright smile. "Are you Georgie or Tobey?"
"Huh?" Georgie made.
"Well," Leer laughed amusedly, "you´re right - like I care! So Mr. Huh, if you would care to let go off Dr. Travis now, I won´t be forced to shoot you in the leg before I kill you. I know you probably haven´t studied medicine, neither have I, but take an advice from me: bullet, your leg - don´t mix. So what d´you say, hm?"
Georgie´s eyes narrowed. "Who the hell are you, you freak?!" he yelled and had another more anguished yelp following as a bullet hit his upper leg, sending him and Jesse to the ground.
Approaching the swearing large man to his feet, Grady Leer shrugged casually. "You people," he said regretfully, "you never listen."
With that he placed a clear shot to Georgie´s head, killing him in a split-second.
Jesse had let out a grunt of pain as he was released from Georgie´s grib just to hit the ground hard, and was by now staring in shock at the amount of blood that poured from the dead man´s head next to him. It didn´t actually go to his fuzzy mind how his captor had ended up that way, but being a doctor, he knew for sure that a hole in the skull meant he was most probably dead.
His attempts at understanding were interrupted by a soft touch to his chin, a hand was placed underneath it as to slightly lift his head off the ground.
Wincing, cause even so small a movement sent stabbing pain through his head and neck, Jesse looked into the eyes of Detective Grady Leer, who grimaced in amused sympathy.
"Wow, look at you."
The younger man frowned in surprise. Somewhere in his mind he´d realized he´d been safed from his tormentors, but he´d expected another face to greet him. "Grady?" he therefore whispered confusedly.
"Yeahp, you´re welcome," Grady Leer smiled, while he helped the injured doctor to a sitting position. From where he was now leaning against the wall, Jesse had an even better look at Georgie´s body, and his gaze wandered from the terrible sight back to Leer with an expression of dread in it.
"You killed him," Jesse stated and looked over to where Tobey lay in an equally still, bloody way. "What´s going on here?"
Placing a hand on his heart in mock sentiment, Leer came to his feet again, so that he was towering over the young doctor. "Kid, those are the warmest words of gratefulness I´ve ever heard," he said. "Would save your life again anytime."
"Where´s Liotta?" Jesse asked, ignoring Leer´s weird sense of humor.
"That´s the one million dollar question."
The still dazed blue eyes grew wide. "Wha... You killed him?!" the doctor asked in disbelief. "Why? What are you ..." Jesse´s gaze wandered over to the door, then swept the room completely, and he hushed himself quickly, casting the detective a clear look. "You´re alone?"
Grady Leer remained silent, just grinned at the smaller man on the ground.
"What d´you want from me?" Jesse finally asked. It didn´t even sound fearfully; he was exhausted beyond caring anymore. The dull ache in his head made his way of thoughts short and fuzzy. His cracked ribs had turned each breath into an ordeal of it´s own. He just wanted to close his eyes and sleep for a century.
"Hey, don´t let this sound like I´m always only turning to you when I want something," Leer replied in mock hurt. "After all I just saved your life."
Jesse opened his mouth to wise-crack, but a sudden sharp pain in his chest made him gasp and squeeze his eyes shut as if to cope with the tightening sensation in his lungs.
"Okay, okay," Grady Leer said hastily, raising his hands as if Jesse´s fit had been a threat. "Don´t get all agitated here. Well," he added after a moment´s thoughts and looked around for the chair Liotta had been sitting on before. He placed it back across the wall on the ground and sat down, folding his hands on his chest. "Looks like I´m the bad guy here, right? And like all bad guys I shall reveal my evil plan to you now, so that you - Jesse Travis, superhero - know about it and can use it against me later on when you outtrick me and I lose."
At Jesse´s completely blank look, Grady Leer laughed softly and shrugged. "Hey, I watch tv, too. I know the bad guy always loses. So perhaps," he added, aiming his gun directly at Jesse, "I should just shoot you here and now."
Jesse stared at the gun, then at the grin behind it. He was scared alright, but he was even more pissed. "What´re you talking ´bout, you freak?!" he heard himself yelling weakly at Leer. "What sort of a plan is that - spy on the guy, then kill him and everybody else involved ... What d´you get outta this?!"
Sighing slightly, Leer nodded and put away his gun. "You´re right, Jess," he agreed. "I won´t kill you - yet. What do I get out of this?" he continued in a teacher-like tone and even stood to pace in front of the doctor for emphasis. " Good question. How ´bout two million dollar?"
"Two mi..." Jesse repeated confusedly, then lifted his head. "The money Carlie´s mother stole from her husband."
"Bright boy," Leer praised him sweetly.
"You think ..." Jesse couldn´t help his lips twitching in amusement at this revelation. "You think Liotta was the guy she stole it for. Don´t you?"
Frowning at the sudden, very much undesired change of mood on his young captive´s face, Leer stopped his pacing. "Yeah," he said.
"That´s why you wanted this undercover assignment," Jesse continued, his amusement increasing, "and why you told everyone Liotta had shot Vitense. And that´s why you ..." He hushed suddenly as a thought rushed through his mind. Casting an angry look at the detective, he finished: "you send those guys who shot Liotta. You wanted me to save his life and earn his trust. You thought he´d tell me ... You fu..."
"Hey, hey!" Leer cut him off quickly. "Don´t say anything you might regret later. `sides, I didn´t order them to work you over like that. But, y´know, guy your size - it´s pretty tempting," he finished with a cruel smile and bent over to the doctor, who tried to shrink away a little, but was of couse cought between the detective and the wall. "So, since you saw through my excellent plan, Superdoc, I will shorten the explaining-part and simply ask. And I will only ask once," he added, pressing the barrel of the gun against Jesse´s temple. "Where is the money?"
Jesse swallowed dryly. He had a fair idea of where it was, but if he was right, he was a dead man, anyway. Frantically trying to figure out what to say, he remained silent and just stared at the gun.
"Where?!" Leer yelled.
The barrel painfully pressed against Jesse´s skin, making him wince. Everything would be better than to end up getting shot there and then, he decided and croaked: "it´s at the practice. I know where."
"Liotta told you?" Leer asked without removing his gun.
"Yes," Jesse whispered. "He told me. Before I took the bullet out of his side. He thought he´d die, and he told me."
"I knew it!" Leer cried out in pure joy. He drew away the gun, which made Jesse sigh deeply in relief, and performed a little happy-jump in the air. "I knew he would tell the kid who saved his life! The poor idiot, he was so predictable! They all are," he told the watching doctor, changing to a casual tone. "See, son," he continued in mock seriousness, that left Jesse wondering if that man was sane after all, "I studied men like Liotta for years. They´re such morons when it comes to honor and stuff - its beautiful!" Drawing in a deep breath, he whirled around to face Jesse, who startedly tried to back away, and grabbed the smaller man´s shoulder, dragging him painfully to his feet.
"Now, my young friend, you´ll show me where it is."
Releasing his grib, he pushed Jesse forward, so that the doctor landed on his face once more, groaning in pain.
"Oh sorry," Grady Leer announced, "I forgot you´re not quick on your feet at the moment. `kay then, let me give you a hand."
With that he simply grabbed Jesse´s left foot and headed off, dragging the struggling man behind him.
"Wow, don´t you get the movie-thrill, too?" Grady Leer asked when they sat inside his car, which parked across Donahue´s practice twenty minutes later.
Too weak to reply, Jesse simply shot him a dirty look. He sat huddled on the passenger seat, cradling his left hand and simultaniously trying to protect his ribs. The slight bouncing of a driving car had been enough for his battered body to protest in ways that had brought him pretty near passing out again. The uncertanty of his fate had by now begun to slightly bother him. If he hadn´t been fond about dying at the hands of Raymond Liotta, he was downright pissed at the thought that the fruitcake next to him would be the one pulling the trigger. No, he wouldn´t die, he decided. Not today.
He had to think of something. "Sorry, but the brain you called is temporaryly not available," the wry answer to that attempt shot through his mind.
"Here we are," Grady Leer continued his speech in the meantime, "the bad guy, about to win, and Superdoc - or rather," he grinned after a moment´s thoughts, "Supercop´s sidecrack. The funny little guy for the one-liners."
"Has anyone ever told you," Jesse muttered, "that you watch too much tv?"
"Nope," Leer replied and pulled out his cell phone. "You can´t watch too much tv, doc. - Okay, sidecrack, I´m now gonna call Sloan and tell him where y´are."
At Jesse´s confused look, he smiled sweetly. "We don´t want him come here and ruin the party, do we?"
With that he dialed Steve´s number and was rewarded with a quick answer.
"Sloan," he said in fake excitement, "I found Travis."
As Leer listened to Steve´s reaction, Jesse watched with the frantic urge to do something. It was his last chance. But before he could open his mouth to yell, Leer suddenly grabbed his shattered hand and squeezed.
The pain made Jesse see stars, he heard his own agonized screams as if from the far. It blackened eveything around him, he couldn´t recall where or who he was anymore, there was just mind-numbing pain all around him, as if he´d fallen in a see of black waves threatening to drown him. Nothing mattered, only to get away from the pain. He didn´t struggle against the blissfull darkness, but almost sighed in relief when he felt his mind drifting away from his conscious self.
Watching the young doctor´s head lolling to the side, Leer let go off his hand, grimacing at the blood he had on his own now.
"Yeah," he told Steve, who´d listened to his friend´s cries with horror, "he´s in pretty bad shape. I think he lost consciousness now. You better hurry."
Widening his eyes in amused surprise, when Steve finished the call without even saying goodbye, Grady put away his phone. "Wow, that was easier than I thought. C´mon, Robin," he added and got out of the car, crossed over to the passenger´s side and dragged Jesse´s still form out of it, throwing him over his shoulder. "Batman will be on his way soon."
Dr. Donahue whirled around surprisedly, when he heard the back door to his practice being opened. Frowning, he checked the plan on the wall behind him, but found he´d thought right, there wasn´t anyone supposed to be there that day. Actually he´d chosen the day to get some paper-work done, while there wasn´t any operation going on or one of the kids sitting around.
"Who´s there?" he called out and turned to open the door to recovery, the room which one entered through the back door, but he didn´t get very far. He couldn´t even see who the shooter was, when a bullet hit him in the chest, sending him flying through the room and over his table.
"Dr. Donahue?" Grady Leer whispered as he pushed the door open slightly and peeked through it. He´d layed his burden on the bed in recovery and was now entering the office, where blood was sprained on the wall. The body itself lay behind the table, only the feet could be seen from where the detective stood.
"Wow," Grady said impressedly. "I always knew I was good, but that´s def an A plus!" Turning around the table, he met the frantic gaze of his victim, who struggled for breath. A thin trickle of blood cascaded from the corner of his mouth.
"Aw," Leer said disappointedly and aimed at Donahue´s head, "crabs. B plus then." He didn´t bother to check another time after he´d pulled the trigger.
When he reentered recovery, he was greeted by a sight that made him laugh. Jesse had come to and managed to fall off the bed onto the ground. He´d crawled half the way over to the door.
Casually strolling over to the young man, Leer pointed the barrel of his gun at the back of Jesse´s head and sighed. "Care to tell me what you think you´re doing, Jess?"
"Looking for your money?" Jesse tried, but was rewarded for his humor only by being dragged to his feet by the back of his shirt and thrown against the legs of the bed. Suppressing a cry of pain, as his hand hit the steel, he stared up at the detective, wondering what was about to happen next.
Grady shook his head like a disappointed father, then pulled out his cuffs and quickly secured Jesse to the leg of the bed.
"Getting worried, bad guy?" Jesse wise-cracked bravely. "You really think I´d go somewhere?"
Leer shot him a glance and slowly came back to his feet from where he´d cuffed his young captive.
"D´you know that when the sidecrack starts making fun of the bad guy it´s almost over?"
Smiling at the comment, Grady took his gun again and aimed at Jesse´s throat. "For the sidecrack?" he asked sarcastically and grinned even brighter when Jesse didn´t reply, but winced at the painful sensation of the gun pressed against his throat.
"Supercop´s most probably aready on the way by now," Grady said with a glance on his watch. "So again I´m gonna ask you just once, Jess. Where is it?"
"Here," Jesse croaked.
A quick laugh rushed over Grady Leer´s features. "Okay," he said and took a step backwards, ready to pull the trigger.
"No!" Jesse called out. "I mean it´s here! It´s this," he added hastily and continued at Leer´s frown: "It´s the practice."
"Jesse ..."
"It is!" the young doctor repeated fiecely. "Donahue was the guy Vitense´s wife was involved with. Don´t you get it? They set him up."
A short pause followed, before Grady asked doubtfully: "So why didn´t they get rid off him then?"
"Carlie," Jesse replied. "Raymond was in love with Carlie. The human factor," he added with a sudden change in his eyes, as he focused on a point behind Grady´s back. "All bad guys fail because of the human factor."
"And all smart-ass sidecracks ..." Leer started, pressing the barrel against Jesse´s forehead now, but was interrupted by a familiar klick behind him that made him whirl around.
"Get away from him, Grady!" Steve ordered calmly, his gun aimed at his colleague from where he stood at the door.
"Robin, look," Leer said casually without drewing his gun away, "Batman has arrived.You´re too early, Sloan," he told the lieutenant who smiled wryly.
"Like he said: human factor. Now lower your weapon."
"Hm," Leer made, frowning as if thinking about the suggestion. "How `bout you lower yours and I don´t shoot him?"
Watching how Jesse swallowed dryly, Steve tried to stay calm and in control. "It´s over, Grady. You won´t make it out of here."
"Oh no? Correct me if I´m wrong, Sloan, but - you´re alone, right?" As Steve failed to answer, the detective chuckled softly. "Good guys, they´re so predictable."
"Drop the gun," Steve said firmly.
"Y´know what all bad guys do in a situation like this?" Grady asked. "They all shoot at the hero instead of the sidecrack. Ever noticed that? They all suddenly lift their gun and aim at the cop, and that´s why they´re all killed then. And why do they do that? They don´t watch enough tv, that´s why."
"Grady ..." Steve started.
"So," Leer interrupted him amusedly, raising his brows. "Am I gonna do that, too? Hm."
He jumped aside and pulled the trigger so quickly, Steve hadn´t even noticed him preparing to do it. "Catch me if you can, Supercop!" he yelled from the office where he´d fled to, to leave the practice through the window. But rushing forward to follow him, Steve froze as he passed Jesse´s form on the ground.
Since he´d jumped when shooting, Leer hadn´t hit the spot he´d aimed at, but still the bullet had scratched the side of Jesse´s head, and blood already colored his blond hair red.
"What´re you waiting for?" the young man asked when his friend stared at him in dismay.
"He hit you," Steve informed him, already crouching down next to him to get a better look at the wound. It wasn´t terribly deep, but the amount of blood pouring from it made him wince nervously.
"You had to tell me, huh?" Jesse growled softly for now he could feel the pain emerging from the spot in waves. His vision blurred slightly, his eyes grew heavy. "At least it wasn´t you again."
"Shut up, sidecrack," Steve muttered and turned to free Jesse´s hands. At the sight of the bloody mess there he winced in sympathy. "Oh god! Grady did this?" he asked in disbelief.
"No," Jesse muttered seepily. "Liotta."
Alarmed at the weak reply, Steve lifted his head again to see Jesse´s eyes being closed. "Hey! Jess!" he called, ruttling his friend´s shoulder softly. "You can´t go to sleep now! Jesse!"
Groaning in pain, Jesse cracked his eyes half-open. "Don´t yell," he whispered, though it sounded as if he´d like to yell himself. "My head´s killing me!"
Steve had by now managed to free Jesse´s wrists of the cuffs and carefully picked him up to lay him on the bed. Almost immediately the pillow had red strains on it. Frantically looking around, the lieutenant grabbed a white towell and pressed it on the wound while fumbling with his cell phone to call an ambulence.
Jesse yelped softly.
"Sorry, pal," Steve said apologetically.
"I´m so sick of this!" the anguished young man stated. His eyes were already closing again. "I just wanna sleep without waking up on some freaky place only to be ..." He interrupted himself as another painfilled moan escaped his lips.
"Don´t worry, you´re safe now," Steve promised. He´d finally pulled out his cell phone and was now dialing 911. "As for the freaky place, though ..."
"Just ... wanna slee..." Jesse mumbled, his head lolling against Steve´s arm.
"Jesse!" the lieutenant called in dismay. "Jess! Hey, wa... Yeah, this is Lieutenant Steve Sloan, LAPD, I have an emergency here."
"He´s gone?" Amanda Bentley asked in angry disbelief.
Mark nodded sadly, while they continued their way through the hallway of Communtiy General. "I´m afraid so. Steve said they checked all the airports and highways, but they might have been too late already. Grady Leer most probably left town."
"Damn! For all what he´s done to Jesse, I ..."
"Yeah I know," Mark interrupted her gently and came to a halt as they reached Jesse´s room.
Inside Jesse was sound asleep in his bed, his color of face had improved slightly, but the thick bandages on his head, chest and hand still told enough for Amanda and Mark to shudder slightly.
Next to the injured young man Steve Sloan sat on an uncomfortable chair, his arms folded on the bedside, his head resting on top of them. He, too, was sleeping.
Smiling warmly, Amanda quietly entered the room, Mark followed her.
"Whose snoring is this?" the pathologist asked amusedly.
"How should I know?" Mark replied and took the remote control of the still running tv to turn it off. An old "Muppets Show" re-run was on, Dr. Wolf was just losing another patient in the Muppets Hospital.
The second Mark had turned it off, Steve and Jesse blinked simultaniously and moved their heads.
"Hey," Steve mumbled sleepily and rouse to cast his father a reprimanding look.
"Yeah," Jesse agreed softly. "Hey! That was one of my faves." With a little help from Amanda he managed to sit up slightly, suppressing a wince. "Dr. Wolf was the reason I became a doctor."
"I don´t doubt that," Steve stated. Mark only chuckled.
"You two! So, Jess, how´re you feeling?" he asked, frowning as he bent over to get a better look at the young patient.
"D´you want a wise-crack reply or the truth?"
"I think that was truth enough," Mark smiled sympathetically. "How´s your head doing?"
"Fine, but I hurt like hell."
Amanda laughed gently and reached out to patt her friend´s shoulder. It was the same movement she would have made if she´d wanted to ruffle his hair, so Jesse backed away instantly. "Mark I don´t want the pathologist touch my head, yet."
"Okay, that´s it," Amanda said in mock hurt, throwing her hands into the air. "I´m outta here!" With that she bent over again, placing a soft kiss on Jesse´s forehead. "Get some rest."
"Yeah, see ya," Jesse smiled as she left.
"That´s a pretty good idea," Mark agreed and cast his son a look. "I´ll be back when my shift ends," he told Jesse and reached out only to freeze in mid-air. "Right," he nodded at Jesse´s reprimanding look and grinned. "Right."
With that he left the room, leaving Jesse and Steve alone.
"I should take shots to the head more often, "Jesse said wryly. "Keeps you guys from ruffling me all the time."
"I never ruffle you," Steve replied dryly, "and if you gonna make some smart-ass comment about me hitting you instead, I´m gonna ..."
"Apologize?" Jesse finished innocently.
Sighing deeply, Steve nodded. "Yeah. Apologize. Jesse, I´m so sorry, really I ... I can´t say how sorry I am. I mean you did all this ..." A short pause occured, in which Steve looked aside. When he finally spoke again, he looked up fondly. "Actually there´s only one thing I can say, Jess: if you ever - and I mean ever - pull a stunt like that again, I´m gonna lock you up in this very room for good. You understand?"
"Sure," Jesse smiled.
"Good," Steve nodded and turned. "You rest now."
"Yeah. Hey, Steve," Jesse called after him when he´d already opened the door.
"Yeah?"
"You´re welcome."
Casting his friend a long look, Steve nodded. He then quickly closed the door behind him, before some of the wetness in his eyes might cascade down his cheeks.
As soon as Mark entered the beach house that evening, he spotted his son sitting on the sofa in the dark. He closed the front door quietly as to not startle him and crossed the room till he stood next to the sofa.
Steve didn´t look up.
Mark sighed softly and sat down next to his son.
Not a word was spoken over the next hours. The two men sat in the dark, the younger one seeking comfort from there mere presence of the older one.
Eventually, Steve fell asleep, his head resting on his father´s shoulder. A sad déjà-vu, Mark felt the situation to be. He didn´t lift a hand to wipe away the single tear that fell down his cheek.
Maybe he´d been wrong after all. Maybe things would never change.
the end
"Leered" didn´t quite turn out how I wanted it to be, but I have another story in mind, so hopefully I can make it up to you next time. And hopefully you enjoyed this a little, anyway.
Thanks for the reviews! You guys have been really kind as always. And of course special thanks to Pinky-Kiddo, whose new chaaaaaaaaaaaapters are always reason enough to party! Don´t hang `round the stations, kiddo, but WRITE! Otherwise I´m gonna tell those four Harvs of yours to have a good talk to you ... Grin. Love you, kid, keep DOING it!
Disclaimers still the same. I own all the bad guys, but they´re not very cute. That´s why I decided to kill most of them. Lucky Jess, huh?
Enjoy!
"Shit!"
He´d hit his best friend. He´d really done it. He´d hit Jesse.
"Great, Sloan, just great! Great, great, great, great, GREAT!"
Hitting the wheel in frustration, Steve Sloan stepped on the gas a little harder, but got a grib on himself fast enough to not kill someone.
"I can´t believe I did this! I hit Jesse!" A short pause followed. "And now I´m talking to myself. This is not happening! This is definitely not happening! - Oh shit!"
A nervous laugh escaped his lips, but couldn´t cover the grim expression on his face.
Carlie hadn´t been killed. She´d killed herself.
"Oh god ..."
Squeezing wheels transported the vehicle to a halt at the side of the road. The figure in it layed his arms over the wheel and placed his forehead on it. Cars rushed by, taking no notice of the catastrophe that revealed itself inside the parking one.
Steve´s thoughts whirled in circles. Carlie had been killed. Taken away from him. Forcefully. She didn´t go.
She didn´t go. She never have ...
Oh, who was he trying to kid?! This was Jesse! Jesse! No matter what was going on with him, Jesse Travis would never lie to him about something like that, never.
Slowly, Steve lifted his head off his arms.
It had to be true. Carlie had shot herself. And her father.
"This is not true! It is not TRUE!" he yelled, punching his wheel so hard it hurt. Yet, he knew it was.
"You don´t want the truth," he heard Jesse´s voice echoing in his head and covered his eyes with his hands.
Drawing in a deep breath, he let his hand slid down his face to his chin. Jesse had told the truth.
The question was: how did Jesse know the truth?
It took Steve exactly two seconds to start the engine again. His hands were trembling.
Mark swept a hand over his eyes. Though he knew he wasn´t really, he felt totally spent, exhausted. He´d tried to call Steve a few times, but each time he´d only received the unsatisfying information that his son wasn´t available at the moment.
Well, that was understandale, Mark mused. He would want to vanish from the face of earth, too, if he´d just knocked his best friend into next week, but knowing his son, he was still surprised at the cell phone´s say. Steve wasn´t exactly the sort of man who´d run away, no matter what. But then, he wasn´t exactly the sort of man who´d hit his friends, either.
Sighing deeply, Mark cast a long glance at the sleeping young man on the only bed in the room. Amanda and he had carried the unconscious Jesse over to an available room and tried to rouse him, but without success. The previous beating, the exhaustion, both physical and emotional, had finally taken their toll on the young man, and he wouldn´t wake to their soft calls and ruttles. Finally, they´d decided to let him slee. He surely looked like he could need it.
Dark circles marked the soft skin under his eyes, and even in sleep his features were drawn. The new bruise on his chin that perfectly matched the Band-Aid on his forehead and the slight swelling of his eye beneath, had taken on a blueish look, as if it knew it was the sad one, the one which never should have been called into existence.
Glancing over at the telephone, Mark wondered if he should try to call Steve one more time, but quickly decided against it. Eventually, Steve would make his appearance in here, that was for sure. He´d seen the look in his son´s eyes as he´d fled the room. The pure shock at what he´d just done, what he´d just heard.
Yes, what they all had heard. "You wanna know the truth?"
Mark couldn´t remember Jesse´s voice ever having been so cold than in that devastating second he´d told the truth. And the truth it was, Mark didn´t have a doubt about that. Maybe Jesse had lied to them about how he´d been hurt or where he was spending his time, but Mark couldn´t shake off the feeling that all this lies had served a certain purpose, that they were in some way a sign of the young man´s courage, of something great he´d done.
Great and stupid, the older doctor thought with a grim smile, while he once more lifted Jesse´s shirt slightly to look at the still present bruises on his abdomen.
"What have you gotten yourself into now, Jess, huh?" he asked under his breath, and flinched, when suddenly a shrill beeping filled the room. Grabbing the device, which he´d placed on the little table next to the bed, Mark quickly left the room and turned it off as to not wake Jesse. The young doctor wasn´t in any condition to treat a patient now, anyway. Besides, Mark had the undoubtable feeling that the device was somehow part of the scheme Jesse had tried to hide from them. It seemed to have been producing it´s annoying sound a little too often lately.
Checking the number on the display, Mark found he didn´t know it. The knot in his throat tightened a little. If what he thought was right, his young friend was in a lot more trouble than he´d assumed in the first place ... But there was only one way to find out.
He stepped over to the next telephone and dialed the number the display showed him.
Almost immediately, a female voice answered: "Practice Dr. Donahue, what can I do for you?"
The name fairly rang a bell, but he couldn´t quite remember where or when he´d heard it. "This Dr. Mark Sloan from Comunity General. You just called one of our doctors, Dr. Jesse Travis, and I ..."
"I´m sorry, sir, but there has to be a mistake," the voice interrupted him sweetly. "Goodbye."
"Yeah. Goodbye," Mark hastened to say as memory kicked in. Donahue´s practice. God, why hadn´t he thought of it earlier?! He was really getting old!
Practically slamming the receiver back on it´s place, while he continued to mentally kick himself into next next year, he whirled on his heels to race back to Jesse´s room.
"Okay, young man," he announced his anger before he even had opened the door, "you will answer some questions now, y..."
The room was empty.
"Oh goddamnit! Jesse!!!"
Jesse heard Mark´s calls alright, but they actually only made him run faster. That the ER was on the lowest floor proved to be a fact to be grateful for once more.You could climb through the windows and take off so easily! Voice of experience speaking, Jesse thought wryly.
He´d waken to the noise of his beeper, but since he really didn´t feel up to do a lot of explaining, he´d lay still till Mark had left the room. Probably to call whoever was calling him, most likely Donahue. So they all would know everything soon. If he wanted to clear up this mess he had to hurry.
It didn´t actually do his ribs any good to climb out of a window and jump to the ground. A few seconds, Jesse just lay where he´d landed, trying to catch his breath and waiting for his vision to clear. To the throbbing pain in his head there was now a new sting to it, emerging from his sore chin. "I´m so glad Steve´s usually on my side," he whispered to himself, but couldn´t find any comfort in wise-cracking this time. He´d seen Steve´s eyes before the lieutenant had hit him. He couldn´t remember ever having seen so much pain in anyone´s eyes. And to think it was him who´d placed it there ...
Shaking off the memory, he forced himself back on his feet. "No time to get all moody now, Travis," he inwardly told himself. "Gotta get moving!"
So off he ran, Mark´s calls fading as the distance got greater.
He didn´t get very far, though. All of a sudden, out of nowhere, a car appeared right next to his limping form, forcing him to stop. The weary feeling of something completely unwanted starting to happen here grabbed hold of the already damaged young man, and he slightly stumpled back.
Again, he didn´t get far. With incredible speed, two large men bounced out of the car and grabbed his arms roughly.
"You Jesse Travis?" one of them asked. He looked about as much a bad guy-assistent as you could possibly look. His name was probably Snake or Pancake, Jesse mused while trying to figure out what to answer. He suddenly got the feeling that being Jesse Travis wasn´t really a good thing right now.
"Ahm ..." was all he managed to answer, before he was interrupted by the second guy holding him.
"´course it´s him, you idiot! You see `nother small whacked guy here?!" He obviously was the wise part of the duo. "`kay, short shanks, you know the drill, right? Move!"
"Who are you?" Jesse asked, while he felt himself being shoved towards the car. Weak struggles were all he could put against the process; the guys didn´t even bother to pay attention to those.
"Shut up," wise-part said casually.
"But I ..."
"He said shut up!" the one referred to as "idiot" yelled and let his stone-like fist connect with the young man´s sore ribcage. The unmistakable sound of cracking bone accompanied the anguished cry that followed. Jesse felt the air leaving his lungs explosion-like, blackness started to overpower his vision. He could wearily feel cold concrete under his palms and cheek, but his surroundings presented themselves blurred, fuzzy.
"Oh great, Georgie, now you carry him!"
"Why me?"
"Well, I didn´t see me knocking him out!"
"He´s not out! Hey, short shanks! - See, he´s still with us, right, kid?"
As he lifted his gaze to the slaps in his face and the calls, Jesse felt himself being dragged to his feet and over to the car where he was thrown inside unceremoniously. The door was slammed shut. The bang hurt his ears and head.
"Don´t go there, Georgie, you´re not gonna drive!"
"Phew! I don´t wanna drive YOUR stupid car!"
"Georgie," Jesse thought with a wry smile, "I´ve just been kidnapped by a guy named Georgie. God help me."
"Hey, short shanks, what´re you laughing about?" Georgie snapped at the rearview mirror.
"You, pal," Jesse whispered.
Fortunately, the darkness drew him in it´s blissfull embrace before he could feel Georgie´s hand come down on his face.
Pain. Jesse was definitely feeling pain emerging from his chest and head. To be honest, it emerged from everywhere. In addition to the sudden cold breeze that let his skin come out in goose-flesh.
"Great, Georgie, just great! You knocked him out for good," an angry voice said near to Jesse´s ear, before a slap to his face made him cringe slightly. Gee, if Georgie only had!
Maybe he was in hell.
"Naw, I didn´t. See, he´s coming to already. He was only taking a little nap, right, short shanks?"
And even the devils were making fun of his size.
"Hey, sleepin´ beauty, gotta wake up now," the previous voice reappeared, along with another slap. "You´ll miss your big moment."
Somehow Jesse couldn´t shake off the feeling that it´d be a lot more healthier to miss his big moment, but then it turned out to not be his choice. Suddenly a large hand was placed tightly over his mouth and nose, making it impossible for him to draw in breath.
Panicing, he tried to grab the hand, but found he couldn´t. Something was keeping him from moving his hands to his front from behind his back. Something rough and carving around his wrists.
"You wanna breathe again, you open your eyes now," the one who wasn´t Georgie said.
Jesse didn´t have to think about the decision long, almost immediately his eyes flew open, begging for air.
"Aww, isn´t he cute?" the guy asked without removing his hand.
"Yeah, and now let him breathe, Tobey. He´s turning blue."
Casting his weakly struggling victim a regretting glance, Tobey hesitantly took away his hand.
Almost passing out from the sensation of air being invited into his lungs again, Jesse gasped and coughed. As his vision cleared slowly, he took in his new surroundings.
Firstly, there were of course Georgie and Tobey, who stood at each of his sides, large and ugly and dangerous, like some mythical god´s true dumb pets. They both wore grey suits, had slicked-back brown hair and could have gotten "professionals" written all over their forehead without making it more obvious what they did for a living.
By that criteria they surely matched the room.
An old, rotten-looking warehouse with broken windows and no sign whatsoever of what it originally had been built for. Jesse´d seen hundreds of rooms like this - on tv. He´d always wondered how the bad guys found the perfect warehouse to torture their victims. Anyway, now the question suddenly seemed not that important anymore.
Contrary to the victims he´d seen on tv, though, he wasn´t bound to a chair, which probably would have been at least less cold, but had just been thrown to the ground, where he sat leaning against a wall with his hands bound behind his back. His ribs hurt. His head hurt. His arms hurt.
All in all, "miserable" didn´t even cover his state. Not to mention frightened. Terrified.
Swallowing dryly, Jesse carefully glanced back at Georgie and Tobey. He didn´t dare ask them why they had brought him here, for he was pretty sure he didn´t want to find out, anyway.
He didn´t have a doubt that he would eventually, though. And that he probably already knew.
"Well, well," a sudden voice echoed through the large empty room, and soon afterwards a tall, slender figure limped slowly into it. A chocolate gaze was layed upon the shivering young man on the ground, quickly followed by a satisfied, somewhat evil smile. "Welcome to you, Dr. Travis."
Jesse wasn´t exactly surprised as he watched Raymond Liotta approach him even more, but he sure felt fear rising inside him at the thought of what was certainly about to come now.
"You shouldn´t be up," he said, trying to sound casually. He couldn´t help his voice shaking slightly, though. "You might tear up those stitches of mine."
"Oh, I doubt that," Liotta replied with a friendly grin. "You did really great work. Quite a skilled young man, y´are, right?"
"Some people think that," Jesse answered with a quick smile.
"And they´re right. No false modesty now! By the way did I ever thank you for saving my life?"
"I got the feeling you´ll do that now," Jesse said with a nervous laugh.
Liotta cast him a long, knowing look and finally nodded grinningly.
"So how did you find out?" the young doctor asked.
Surprised, Liotta´s brows flew up. "You don´t remember?"
At Jesse´s frown, he chuckled. "Sorry to tell you this, Travis, but actually you told me."
"Told ..." Jesse whispered confusedly.
Again, Liotta looked at him hard, then snapped with his fingers loudly, sending Georgie off in a rush to get a chair for him, on which he slowly sat down. His side was obviously still bothering him. He was pale, and a slight shade of sweat shined on his forehead.
"You knew her name," he finally said coldly.
A pause followed. Jesse stared at his captor without understanding. Whose name had he known? Wha... And then it kicked in. Her name. He´d said her name back at he practice. And now Liotta thought ...
"Wait, this is all wrong, I ..." he tried, but was cut off by a sharp gesture of Liotta´s hand, that mentioned Tobey to grab a handfull of the young man´s hair and hold him still.
Bending a little forward - he obviously rather had his own hands arround his captive´s neck now - Liotta narrowed his eyes. "Wrong, doc? I don´t think so. You knew Carlie´s name. Thought I was too out of it to notice your dismay at what I told you? - You thought I killed her," he added after a moment´s thought, " didn´t you?"
"Yes," Jesse admitted.
"Yes. That´s why you wanted to work for me." A soft chuckle escaped Liotta as he shook his head in amusement. "Did you really think I would take you for a junkie?"
"Ah ... You didn´t, huh? Well, guess that´s sort of a compliement," the young man muttered and was rewarded with a sharp, quieting look.
"I don´t mind you thought I was a killer," Liotta said casually, raising his hands as if to show he was unarmed. "I don´t mind that you cheated your way into my practice, too. Hell, you did great there," he added with an innocent smile, which gave way to the coldest of all cold gazes in a split second. "But you stole my girl. And I´m gonna make you pay for that."
The doctor´s eyes grew wide. "Wha... No! I didn´t! I ..."
"It wasn´t you?" Liotta asked, not believing him. "Okay then, give me a name, and you can go. C´mon, doc, just a name." At the following silence, a melancholic smile spread on his lips. "Carlie wasn´t the sort of woman you´d deny. Right?"
"Right," Jesse nodded. His own words sounded far away in his ears, as if another person had spoken them. He couldn´t believe he was doing this, but then he´d known from the second Liotta had entered the room, he would do it. What else could he do?
Chocolate eyes met blue crystal ones with understanding, sadness, sympathy, maybe even friendship. Glancing away, the older man stated: "I don´t blame you for having fallen for her. I don´t hate you. You loved her, just like I did. Carlie was put on this earth to be loved."
After a short pause of memories, he looked back at his captive, who was staring up at him hopelessly. "But she was my woman. You understand? My woman. And you took her from me. You had no right to do that. You stole from me," he added calmly. "I don´t let anyone steel from me."
Before Jesse could think of anything to answer, though he didn´t have a clue what, he felt Georgie´s hands on his shoulders, forcing him forward, while Tobey cut through the ropes that bound his hands. Not knowing what they had in mind, Jesse frowned in fear and tried to keep hold of Liotta´s gaze, silently questioning him.
"You´re a thief, Jesse Travis," the older man explained.
Still frowning at the answer he didn´t understood, Jesse glanced at Tobey, who´d grabbed his left hand by now, paying no attention to the visible injuries it wore. Georgie had gotten a tight hold of his right arm, forcing it to remain behind his back.
Gasping from the pain Tobey caused, Jesse feebly tried to free his hand, but only earned a blow to the face for his efforts. Dazed, he turned his head away, fearing more slaps to come, and got a short glimpse of Georgie´s joyfull grin to his right.
"D´you know what happens to thieves, Dr. Travis?" Liotta asked. He´d leant back comfortably in his chair and watched the scenery closely.
A sudden flash of every "1001 Nights"-stories he´d ever read rushed through Jesse´s mind at the question, and more panicked than he´d ever been, he turned his head to look at what Tobey was doing again.
The larger man had pinned his hand in a tight grib against the wall behind the doctor and was by now fumbling with his gun.
Jesse was pretty sure his eyes couldn´t grew any wider. "Please!" He wanted to scream, but only a chocked whisper left his lips. A begging plea lay in his gaze as it now flew back to Liotta, who shrugged.
"Think of it as a modern way of the old-fashioned punishment," he said, nodding at Tobey to get ready. "You won´t steel from me again, kid."
"No!" Jesse begged. Confronted with Tobey´s gun now being painfully pushed against the soft flesh of his palm, Jesse finally had gotten back his speech. And he was using it excessively. "Please! No!" He didn´t care wether he sounded pathetically, wether they would think him weak. He was scared beyond caring for anything. The prospect of having his hand torn to pieces made his head swim and his voice shriek with terror. "C´mon, you´re not really gonna do this!" he laughed out hysterically. "You can´t!"
"Watch me," Liotta whispered.
"No! No! Please! Plea..."
Tobey pulled the trigger. Georgie sweared loudly as he covered his ears. The young man´s ear-splitting scream echoed through the room. Raymond Liotta folded his hands on his chest.
"No, you won´t steel from anyone again."
Detective Grady Leer whirled around, startled, as the door to the interrogation room he was in was thrown open with a loud bang.
"Slo..." he started confusedly as he recognized the large figure of Lieutenant Steve Sloan standing in the door.
"You," Steve interrupted him, pointing at the man Grady had been interrogating before, who was sitting at the only table in the bleak room, "out."
"Hey!" Leer protested. "Wait a minu..."
"I said out!" Steve growled threateningly. Without bothering to glance at Leer another time, the man rushed out of the room, closing the door behind him carefully as if to not enrage the large man any more.
Inside, Steve didn´t move an inch, stood where he was, staring at Leer, who could feel the hairs on his neck rise in anticipation.
"`kay, Sloan," he finally said calmly, moving himself in front of the table so that he was now facing his colleague, " care to tell me what´s that all about?"
"Who´s your undercover guy?"
The look in Leer´s eyes gave the answer away instantly, but still he raised his brows in surprise. "Beg your pardon?"
"Who´s your guy?"
"C´mon, Sloan," Grady laughed, "you know I can´t tell you that, it´s classified information."
With incredible speed, Steve had the smaller man pinned on the wall with his arm pressing against his throat forcefully. "Will it still be classified information when you won´t be there anymore to know it?" he asked furiously.
"Hey, man ..." Leer croaked, desperately trying to draw much needed oxygen into his lungs.
"I´m gonna ask you one more time, Grady. Who is on the undercover assignment?"
For a split second, Leer´s gaze locked with Steve´s. "Okay, okay," he gasped. "It´s Jesse Travis. Now let me go!"
Reluctantly, Steve drew away his arm, Leer stumpled over to the table, grabbing an edge of it to steady himself as he was coughing and rubbing his throat. "Hell, Sloan, it´s not my fault! The little guy practically begged me to let him do it!"
"How dare you send him in there?!" Steve replied fiercely. "You knew he´s my friend!"
"And I knew he´s a doctor," Grady shot back, taking a small step away from the table. "So what´re you saying, because he´s your friend he isn´t allowed to help the police? Correct me if I´m wrong, but don´t you do this sorta things all the time?!"
"That´s different!" Steve objected, though a shadow of guilt was set free in his eyes by the words.
"Oh yeah?! Why? I don´t see the difference! He knows the risks when he´s doing it for you and he knew them this time, too."
"He was forced to take drugs!" Steve yelled, though he knew Grady was right. If Jesse´d chosen to accept an undercover assignment there was nothing Steve could do about it. Deep inside he knew he wasn´t mad at Grady Leer. Not even at Jesse, though when he ever got his hands on the young doctor, he would lock him up in the hospital and make sure of him to never leave it without his permission again. No, he was furious at himself. For not having noticed what was going on. For having given Jesse the feeling he needed to do this to help him. He´d no doubt about Jesse´s motives.
Leer laughed out loudly. "Hell, Steve, he´s an adult! Yes, I admit it might have been due to the assignment, but still it´s his choice if he decides to actually take the stuff they give their guys there." Shrugging, he sat down at the table casually. "Maybe he liked it. Ever thought ´bout that? Doctors, they´re made up that way."
Another quick move of the lieutenant left his hand grabbing Leer´s collar, practically half-dragging him off the chair. "Maybe you´d like to ..."
"What you want from me, man?!" Leer yelled fearfully, casting an angry look at Steve´s enraged face. "It was his choice! And you know why he did it," he added calmer, "don´t ya?"
Steve failed to notice the quick smile that rushed over his colleague´s features as he bowed his head in regret. The words had stung like a slap in the face.
The ringing of his cell phone cut through the silence like a knife. Releasing Grady from his grib, Steve pulled it out and answered it, his voice shaking with emotion. He cleared his throat and repeated himself, then fell absolutely still as he listened to the words spoken to him.
Grady watched him with interest. He had a pretty good idea about what was told to the lieutenant, but he waited patiently for Steve to mumble a short goodbye and put away his phone.
As he turned to face Grady, who eyed him questioningly, the smaller man could see the worry written all over his face. His features were drawn with concern, his eyes cold with despise when he informed his colleague: "Jesse´s gone. He ran away from the hospital."
Leer looked at him silently.
"If you know where he might be going, Grady ..."
Raising his hands in defeat, Grady Leer shook his head. "I don´t have someone following him everywhere if that´s what you think. And actually he quitted this afternoon."
Half a minute passed by, before Steve finally turned and opened the door. For the very first time in his life he felt small, not in control of the situation.
"Grady," he asked, not looking at Leer, while he still held the door half open. "Since when did you know about Carlie?"
Leer lifted his head slightly and raised his brows. "You better hurry," he said. "The kid seemed to be pretty out of it when I last saw him. We don´t want him end up doing something stupid, do we?"
"If anything happens to Jesse," Steve growled, making a threatening step towards the smaller man, but got a grip on himself fast enough, "I´m gonna fry your ass so hard you´ll be lucky to just get suspended!" With that he turned to leave the room before he could change his mind and simply kill the man inside of it.
Detective Grady Leer remained where he stood, rubbing a hand over his throat. One corner of his mouth twitched to a crooked smile.
"What time is it?" Georgie asked impatiently.
Rolling his eyes, Tobey sighed deeply. "Gee, half a second later than the last time y´asked, idiot."
"He shoulda been here hours ago!" Georgie complained whinyly. A yawn broke free on his face, he didn´t bother to cover it with his hand.
"You´re exaggerating," Tobey replied. "He said he´d be back in two hours, and it´s been exactly two hours. Why don´t you go on our guest´s nerves for a change, huh? I bet he´s bored, too."
Following his partner´s gaze over to the pathetic heap on the floor that once had been a fairly healthy looking young doctor, Georgie grimaced. "Nah, guy said we shouldn´t kill shorty." Obviously that brought a thought to the otherwise mostly thought-free area of his brain, and he cast Tobey a worried look. "Did you check on him, anyway? Like if he´s still alive?"
"Georgie, I can see him breathe from here."
That was a little exaggerated, for Jesse´s breathing had become so shallow that Tobey couldn´t possibly see it from where he and his partner were standing, but fortunately he was right nevertheless. The young man was unconscious, but alive.
After Raymond Liotta had watched with business-like interest how Jesse´s left hand had been turned into a useless boundle of bloodied flesh, he´d excused himself. "I´m gonna lay down for a short while. Doctor´s orders," he´d added with a dry smile at the wriggling man on the ground. "I want him to be still alive when I come back, you hear?"
"Sure, sir," Tobey had nodded obediently.
"As far as that - do with him whatever you wanna do," were Liotta´s parting words as the door fell closed behind him.
It didn´t take Georgie and Tobey long to decide it was boring just sitting there in the cold watching their young captive lay on the ground, clamping his shattered hand, groaning, so they´d taught him a lesson of their own. It was what they were good at, so why not do it?
Besides, it was sort of relaxing to work off their aggressions and frustration on the helpless man, who they knew nothing about, anyway. Maybe he even deserved it. Whatever the truth was, when they let go off him, Jesse Travis looked reduced to a heap on the floor.
His shirt was torn in so many places, it actually were a bunch of rags covering his lacerated body underneath. There wasn´t much bleeding to be seen - Georgie and Tobey were professionals, trained to keep the mess to a minimum - but hardly a spot on his body that wasn´t turning blue or black. The young man was covered with bruises, and eventully he´d given up his attempts to stay conscious and had fled into a mercyfull darkness some time ago.
Now the boredom had returned with a vengance to the two men. They´d told each other every new joke they´d heard over the last week till they´d run out of them.
A low moan drew their attention to Jesse again, who was slowly coming to, much to his disadvantage, for there wasn´t a spot on his body which didn´t hurt and not a single motion to perform which didn´t sent waves of pain through his nerves.
"Short shanks´ wakin´ up," Georgie informed his partner as he slightly approached the moving figure.
Tobey rolled his eyes. "Don´t say."
"No really, he ..."
"I can see that, dumbo!" Tobey growled, and followed Georgie over to Jesse, whose eyes had begun to flicker open by now.
"Hey shorty," Tobey grinned at him. "Welcome back! Happy to see us again, ain´t ya?"
As an answer, Jesse closed his eyes again, but was kept from slipping back into unconsciousness by Georgie´s hands grabbing the pathetic remains of his shirt and yanking him to a half-standing position. A small cry of protest escaped the young doctor, but he´d learned his lesson: he didn´t struggle at all against the butal treatment.
Receiving a "no fun"-look from his partner, Georgie then ruttled Jesse roughly, as a sudden bang echoed loudly through the building.
Before he could even turn fully around to see what it had been, Tobey felt the impact of a bullet sending him flying through the air. He hit the wall behind him and was dead when he slid to the ground.
Georgie´s frantic gaze flew to the door, he still held the only semi-aware Jesse by the collar. The young doctor´s eyes had snapped open at the sounds, but he only had a vague idea of what was going on around him. His head was protesting against the act of thinking, and his senses were actually busy informing him about all the places they received "Hurts!"-messages from.
So Jesse didn´t see Grady Leer enter the room and aim at Georgie, who was still too shocked to let go off his captive and draw his gun.
"Hi," Leer greeted him with a bright smile. "Are you Georgie or Tobey?"
"Huh?" Georgie made.
"Well," Leer laughed amusedly, "you´re right - like I care! So Mr. Huh, if you would care to let go off Dr. Travis now, I won´t be forced to shoot you in the leg before I kill you. I know you probably haven´t studied medicine, neither have I, but take an advice from me: bullet, your leg - don´t mix. So what d´you say, hm?"
Georgie´s eyes narrowed. "Who the hell are you, you freak?!" he yelled and had another more anguished yelp following as a bullet hit his upper leg, sending him and Jesse to the ground.
Approaching the swearing large man to his feet, Grady Leer shrugged casually. "You people," he said regretfully, "you never listen."
With that he placed a clear shot to Georgie´s head, killing him in a split-second.
Jesse had let out a grunt of pain as he was released from Georgie´s grib just to hit the ground hard, and was by now staring in shock at the amount of blood that poured from the dead man´s head next to him. It didn´t actually go to his fuzzy mind how his captor had ended up that way, but being a doctor, he knew for sure that a hole in the skull meant he was most probably dead.
His attempts at understanding were interrupted by a soft touch to his chin, a hand was placed underneath it as to slightly lift his head off the ground.
Wincing, cause even so small a movement sent stabbing pain through his head and neck, Jesse looked into the eyes of Detective Grady Leer, who grimaced in amused sympathy.
"Wow, look at you."
The younger man frowned in surprise. Somewhere in his mind he´d realized he´d been safed from his tormentors, but he´d expected another face to greet him. "Grady?" he therefore whispered confusedly.
"Yeahp, you´re welcome," Grady Leer smiled, while he helped the injured doctor to a sitting position. From where he was now leaning against the wall, Jesse had an even better look at Georgie´s body, and his gaze wandered from the terrible sight back to Leer with an expression of dread in it.
"You killed him," Jesse stated and looked over to where Tobey lay in an equally still, bloody way. "What´s going on here?"
Placing a hand on his heart in mock sentiment, Leer came to his feet again, so that he was towering over the young doctor. "Kid, those are the warmest words of gratefulness I´ve ever heard," he said. "Would save your life again anytime."
"Where´s Liotta?" Jesse asked, ignoring Leer´s weird sense of humor.
"That´s the one million dollar question."
The still dazed blue eyes grew wide. "Wha... You killed him?!" the doctor asked in disbelief. "Why? What are you ..." Jesse´s gaze wandered over to the door, then swept the room completely, and he hushed himself quickly, casting the detective a clear look. "You´re alone?"
Grady Leer remained silent, just grinned at the smaller man on the ground.
"What d´you want from me?" Jesse finally asked. It didn´t even sound fearfully; he was exhausted beyond caring anymore. The dull ache in his head made his way of thoughts short and fuzzy. His cracked ribs had turned each breath into an ordeal of it´s own. He just wanted to close his eyes and sleep for a century.
"Hey, don´t let this sound like I´m always only turning to you when I want something," Leer replied in mock hurt. "After all I just saved your life."
Jesse opened his mouth to wise-crack, but a sudden sharp pain in his chest made him gasp and squeeze his eyes shut as if to cope with the tightening sensation in his lungs.
"Okay, okay," Grady Leer said hastily, raising his hands as if Jesse´s fit had been a threat. "Don´t get all agitated here. Well," he added after a moment´s thoughts and looked around for the chair Liotta had been sitting on before. He placed it back across the wall on the ground and sat down, folding his hands on his chest. "Looks like I´m the bad guy here, right? And like all bad guys I shall reveal my evil plan to you now, so that you - Jesse Travis, superhero - know about it and can use it against me later on when you outtrick me and I lose."
At Jesse´s completely blank look, Grady Leer laughed softly and shrugged. "Hey, I watch tv, too. I know the bad guy always loses. So perhaps," he added, aiming his gun directly at Jesse, "I should just shoot you here and now."
Jesse stared at the gun, then at the grin behind it. He was scared alright, but he was even more pissed. "What´re you talking ´bout, you freak?!" he heard himself yelling weakly at Leer. "What sort of a plan is that - spy on the guy, then kill him and everybody else involved ... What d´you get outta this?!"
Sighing slightly, Leer nodded and put away his gun. "You´re right, Jess," he agreed. "I won´t kill you - yet. What do I get out of this?" he continued in a teacher-like tone and even stood to pace in front of the doctor for emphasis. " Good question. How ´bout two million dollar?"
"Two mi..." Jesse repeated confusedly, then lifted his head. "The money Carlie´s mother stole from her husband."
"Bright boy," Leer praised him sweetly.
"You think ..." Jesse couldn´t help his lips twitching in amusement at this revelation. "You think Liotta was the guy she stole it for. Don´t you?"
Frowning at the sudden, very much undesired change of mood on his young captive´s face, Leer stopped his pacing. "Yeah," he said.
"That´s why you wanted this undercover assignment," Jesse continued, his amusement increasing, "and why you told everyone Liotta had shot Vitense. And that´s why you ..." He hushed suddenly as a thought rushed through his mind. Casting an angry look at the detective, he finished: "you send those guys who shot Liotta. You wanted me to save his life and earn his trust. You thought he´d tell me ... You fu..."
"Hey, hey!" Leer cut him off quickly. "Don´t say anything you might regret later. `sides, I didn´t order them to work you over like that. But, y´know, guy your size - it´s pretty tempting," he finished with a cruel smile and bent over to the doctor, who tried to shrink away a little, but was of couse cought between the detective and the wall. "So, since you saw through my excellent plan, Superdoc, I will shorten the explaining-part and simply ask. And I will only ask once," he added, pressing the barrel of the gun against Jesse´s temple. "Where is the money?"
Jesse swallowed dryly. He had a fair idea of where it was, but if he was right, he was a dead man, anyway. Frantically trying to figure out what to say, he remained silent and just stared at the gun.
"Where?!" Leer yelled.
The barrel painfully pressed against Jesse´s skin, making him wince. Everything would be better than to end up getting shot there and then, he decided and croaked: "it´s at the practice. I know where."
"Liotta told you?" Leer asked without removing his gun.
"Yes," Jesse whispered. "He told me. Before I took the bullet out of his side. He thought he´d die, and he told me."
"I knew it!" Leer cried out in pure joy. He drew away the gun, which made Jesse sigh deeply in relief, and performed a little happy-jump in the air. "I knew he would tell the kid who saved his life! The poor idiot, he was so predictable! They all are," he told the watching doctor, changing to a casual tone. "See, son," he continued in mock seriousness, that left Jesse wondering if that man was sane after all, "I studied men like Liotta for years. They´re such morons when it comes to honor and stuff - its beautiful!" Drawing in a deep breath, he whirled around to face Jesse, who startedly tried to back away, and grabbed the smaller man´s shoulder, dragging him painfully to his feet.
"Now, my young friend, you´ll show me where it is."
Releasing his grib, he pushed Jesse forward, so that the doctor landed on his face once more, groaning in pain.
"Oh sorry," Grady Leer announced, "I forgot you´re not quick on your feet at the moment. `kay then, let me give you a hand."
With that he simply grabbed Jesse´s left foot and headed off, dragging the struggling man behind him.
"Wow, don´t you get the movie-thrill, too?" Grady Leer asked when they sat inside his car, which parked across Donahue´s practice twenty minutes later.
Too weak to reply, Jesse simply shot him a dirty look. He sat huddled on the passenger seat, cradling his left hand and simultaniously trying to protect his ribs. The slight bouncing of a driving car had been enough for his battered body to protest in ways that had brought him pretty near passing out again. The uncertanty of his fate had by now begun to slightly bother him. If he hadn´t been fond about dying at the hands of Raymond Liotta, he was downright pissed at the thought that the fruitcake next to him would be the one pulling the trigger. No, he wouldn´t die, he decided. Not today.
He had to think of something. "Sorry, but the brain you called is temporaryly not available," the wry answer to that attempt shot through his mind.
"Here we are," Grady Leer continued his speech in the meantime, "the bad guy, about to win, and Superdoc - or rather," he grinned after a moment´s thoughts, "Supercop´s sidecrack. The funny little guy for the one-liners."
"Has anyone ever told you," Jesse muttered, "that you watch too much tv?"
"Nope," Leer replied and pulled out his cell phone. "You can´t watch too much tv, doc. - Okay, sidecrack, I´m now gonna call Sloan and tell him where y´are."
At Jesse´s confused look, he smiled sweetly. "We don´t want him come here and ruin the party, do we?"
With that he dialed Steve´s number and was rewarded with a quick answer.
"Sloan," he said in fake excitement, "I found Travis."
As Leer listened to Steve´s reaction, Jesse watched with the frantic urge to do something. It was his last chance. But before he could open his mouth to yell, Leer suddenly grabbed his shattered hand and squeezed.
The pain made Jesse see stars, he heard his own agonized screams as if from the far. It blackened eveything around him, he couldn´t recall where or who he was anymore, there was just mind-numbing pain all around him, as if he´d fallen in a see of black waves threatening to drown him. Nothing mattered, only to get away from the pain. He didn´t struggle against the blissfull darkness, but almost sighed in relief when he felt his mind drifting away from his conscious self.
Watching the young doctor´s head lolling to the side, Leer let go off his hand, grimacing at the blood he had on his own now.
"Yeah," he told Steve, who´d listened to his friend´s cries with horror, "he´s in pretty bad shape. I think he lost consciousness now. You better hurry."
Widening his eyes in amused surprise, when Steve finished the call without even saying goodbye, Grady put away his phone. "Wow, that was easier than I thought. C´mon, Robin," he added and got out of the car, crossed over to the passenger´s side and dragged Jesse´s still form out of it, throwing him over his shoulder. "Batman will be on his way soon."
Dr. Donahue whirled around surprisedly, when he heard the back door to his practice being opened. Frowning, he checked the plan on the wall behind him, but found he´d thought right, there wasn´t anyone supposed to be there that day. Actually he´d chosen the day to get some paper-work done, while there wasn´t any operation going on or one of the kids sitting around.
"Who´s there?" he called out and turned to open the door to recovery, the room which one entered through the back door, but he didn´t get very far. He couldn´t even see who the shooter was, when a bullet hit him in the chest, sending him flying through the room and over his table.
"Dr. Donahue?" Grady Leer whispered as he pushed the door open slightly and peeked through it. He´d layed his burden on the bed in recovery and was now entering the office, where blood was sprained on the wall. The body itself lay behind the table, only the feet could be seen from where the detective stood.
"Wow," Grady said impressedly. "I always knew I was good, but that´s def an A plus!" Turning around the table, he met the frantic gaze of his victim, who struggled for breath. A thin trickle of blood cascaded from the corner of his mouth.
"Aw," Leer said disappointedly and aimed at Donahue´s head, "crabs. B plus then." He didn´t bother to check another time after he´d pulled the trigger.
When he reentered recovery, he was greeted by a sight that made him laugh. Jesse had come to and managed to fall off the bed onto the ground. He´d crawled half the way over to the door.
Casually strolling over to the young man, Leer pointed the barrel of his gun at the back of Jesse´s head and sighed. "Care to tell me what you think you´re doing, Jess?"
"Looking for your money?" Jesse tried, but was rewarded for his humor only by being dragged to his feet by the back of his shirt and thrown against the legs of the bed. Suppressing a cry of pain, as his hand hit the steel, he stared up at the detective, wondering what was about to happen next.
Grady shook his head like a disappointed father, then pulled out his cuffs and quickly secured Jesse to the leg of the bed.
"Getting worried, bad guy?" Jesse wise-cracked bravely. "You really think I´d go somewhere?"
Leer shot him a glance and slowly came back to his feet from where he´d cuffed his young captive.
"D´you know that when the sidecrack starts making fun of the bad guy it´s almost over?"
Smiling at the comment, Grady took his gun again and aimed at Jesse´s throat. "For the sidecrack?" he asked sarcastically and grinned even brighter when Jesse didn´t reply, but winced at the painful sensation of the gun pressed against his throat.
"Supercop´s most probably aready on the way by now," Grady said with a glance on his watch. "So again I´m gonna ask you just once, Jess. Where is it?"
"Here," Jesse croaked.
A quick laugh rushed over Grady Leer´s features. "Okay," he said and took a step backwards, ready to pull the trigger.
"No!" Jesse called out. "I mean it´s here! It´s this," he added hastily and continued at Leer´s frown: "It´s the practice."
"Jesse ..."
"It is!" the young doctor repeated fiecely. "Donahue was the guy Vitense´s wife was involved with. Don´t you get it? They set him up."
A short pause followed, before Grady asked doubtfully: "So why didn´t they get rid off him then?"
"Carlie," Jesse replied. "Raymond was in love with Carlie. The human factor," he added with a sudden change in his eyes, as he focused on a point behind Grady´s back. "All bad guys fail because of the human factor."
"And all smart-ass sidecracks ..." Leer started, pressing the barrel against Jesse´s forehead now, but was interrupted by a familiar klick behind him that made him whirl around.
"Get away from him, Grady!" Steve ordered calmly, his gun aimed at his colleague from where he stood at the door.
"Robin, look," Leer said casually without drewing his gun away, "Batman has arrived.You´re too early, Sloan," he told the lieutenant who smiled wryly.
"Like he said: human factor. Now lower your weapon."
"Hm," Leer made, frowning as if thinking about the suggestion. "How `bout you lower yours and I don´t shoot him?"
Watching how Jesse swallowed dryly, Steve tried to stay calm and in control. "It´s over, Grady. You won´t make it out of here."
"Oh no? Correct me if I´m wrong, Sloan, but - you´re alone, right?" As Steve failed to answer, the detective chuckled softly. "Good guys, they´re so predictable."
"Drop the gun," Steve said firmly.
"Y´know what all bad guys do in a situation like this?" Grady asked. "They all shoot at the hero instead of the sidecrack. Ever noticed that? They all suddenly lift their gun and aim at the cop, and that´s why they´re all killed then. And why do they do that? They don´t watch enough tv, that´s why."
"Grady ..." Steve started.
"So," Leer interrupted him amusedly, raising his brows. "Am I gonna do that, too? Hm."
He jumped aside and pulled the trigger so quickly, Steve hadn´t even noticed him preparing to do it. "Catch me if you can, Supercop!" he yelled from the office where he´d fled to, to leave the practice through the window. But rushing forward to follow him, Steve froze as he passed Jesse´s form on the ground.
Since he´d jumped when shooting, Leer hadn´t hit the spot he´d aimed at, but still the bullet had scratched the side of Jesse´s head, and blood already colored his blond hair red.
"What´re you waiting for?" the young man asked when his friend stared at him in dismay.
"He hit you," Steve informed him, already crouching down next to him to get a better look at the wound. It wasn´t terribly deep, but the amount of blood pouring from it made him wince nervously.
"You had to tell me, huh?" Jesse growled softly for now he could feel the pain emerging from the spot in waves. His vision blurred slightly, his eyes grew heavy. "At least it wasn´t you again."
"Shut up, sidecrack," Steve muttered and turned to free Jesse´s hands. At the sight of the bloody mess there he winced in sympathy. "Oh god! Grady did this?" he asked in disbelief.
"No," Jesse muttered seepily. "Liotta."
Alarmed at the weak reply, Steve lifted his head again to see Jesse´s eyes being closed. "Hey! Jess!" he called, ruttling his friend´s shoulder softly. "You can´t go to sleep now! Jesse!"
Groaning in pain, Jesse cracked his eyes half-open. "Don´t yell," he whispered, though it sounded as if he´d like to yell himself. "My head´s killing me!"
Steve had by now managed to free Jesse´s wrists of the cuffs and carefully picked him up to lay him on the bed. Almost immediately the pillow had red strains on it. Frantically looking around, the lieutenant grabbed a white towell and pressed it on the wound while fumbling with his cell phone to call an ambulence.
Jesse yelped softly.
"Sorry, pal," Steve said apologetically.
"I´m so sick of this!" the anguished young man stated. His eyes were already closing again. "I just wanna sleep without waking up on some freaky place only to be ..." He interrupted himself as another painfilled moan escaped his lips.
"Don´t worry, you´re safe now," Steve promised. He´d finally pulled out his cell phone and was now dialing 911. "As for the freaky place, though ..."
"Just ... wanna slee..." Jesse mumbled, his head lolling against Steve´s arm.
"Jesse!" the lieutenant called in dismay. "Jess! Hey, wa... Yeah, this is Lieutenant Steve Sloan, LAPD, I have an emergency here."
"He´s gone?" Amanda Bentley asked in angry disbelief.
Mark nodded sadly, while they continued their way through the hallway of Communtiy General. "I´m afraid so. Steve said they checked all the airports and highways, but they might have been too late already. Grady Leer most probably left town."
"Damn! For all what he´s done to Jesse, I ..."
"Yeah I know," Mark interrupted her gently and came to a halt as they reached Jesse´s room.
Inside Jesse was sound asleep in his bed, his color of face had improved slightly, but the thick bandages on his head, chest and hand still told enough for Amanda and Mark to shudder slightly.
Next to the injured young man Steve Sloan sat on an uncomfortable chair, his arms folded on the bedside, his head resting on top of them. He, too, was sleeping.
Smiling warmly, Amanda quietly entered the room, Mark followed her.
"Whose snoring is this?" the pathologist asked amusedly.
"How should I know?" Mark replied and took the remote control of the still running tv to turn it off. An old "Muppets Show" re-run was on, Dr. Wolf was just losing another patient in the Muppets Hospital.
The second Mark had turned it off, Steve and Jesse blinked simultaniously and moved their heads.
"Hey," Steve mumbled sleepily and rouse to cast his father a reprimanding look.
"Yeah," Jesse agreed softly. "Hey! That was one of my faves." With a little help from Amanda he managed to sit up slightly, suppressing a wince. "Dr. Wolf was the reason I became a doctor."
"I don´t doubt that," Steve stated. Mark only chuckled.
"You two! So, Jess, how´re you feeling?" he asked, frowning as he bent over to get a better look at the young patient.
"D´you want a wise-crack reply or the truth?"
"I think that was truth enough," Mark smiled sympathetically. "How´s your head doing?"
"Fine, but I hurt like hell."
Amanda laughed gently and reached out to patt her friend´s shoulder. It was the same movement she would have made if she´d wanted to ruffle his hair, so Jesse backed away instantly. "Mark I don´t want the pathologist touch my head, yet."
"Okay, that´s it," Amanda said in mock hurt, throwing her hands into the air. "I´m outta here!" With that she bent over again, placing a soft kiss on Jesse´s forehead. "Get some rest."
"Yeah, see ya," Jesse smiled as she left.
"That´s a pretty good idea," Mark agreed and cast his son a look. "I´ll be back when my shift ends," he told Jesse and reached out only to freeze in mid-air. "Right," he nodded at Jesse´s reprimanding look and grinned. "Right."
With that he left the room, leaving Jesse and Steve alone.
"I should take shots to the head more often, "Jesse said wryly. "Keeps you guys from ruffling me all the time."
"I never ruffle you," Steve replied dryly, "and if you gonna make some smart-ass comment about me hitting you instead, I´m gonna ..."
"Apologize?" Jesse finished innocently.
Sighing deeply, Steve nodded. "Yeah. Apologize. Jesse, I´m so sorry, really I ... I can´t say how sorry I am. I mean you did all this ..." A short pause occured, in which Steve looked aside. When he finally spoke again, he looked up fondly. "Actually there´s only one thing I can say, Jess: if you ever - and I mean ever - pull a stunt like that again, I´m gonna lock you up in this very room for good. You understand?"
"Sure," Jesse smiled.
"Good," Steve nodded and turned. "You rest now."
"Yeah. Hey, Steve," Jesse called after him when he´d already opened the door.
"Yeah?"
"You´re welcome."
Casting his friend a long look, Steve nodded. He then quickly closed the door behind him, before some of the wetness in his eyes might cascade down his cheeks.
As soon as Mark entered the beach house that evening, he spotted his son sitting on the sofa in the dark. He closed the front door quietly as to not startle him and crossed the room till he stood next to the sofa.
Steve didn´t look up.
Mark sighed softly and sat down next to his son.
Not a word was spoken over the next hours. The two men sat in the dark, the younger one seeking comfort from there mere presence of the older one.
Eventually, Steve fell asleep, his head resting on his father´s shoulder. A sad déjà-vu, Mark felt the situation to be. He didn´t lift a hand to wipe away the single tear that fell down his cheek.
Maybe he´d been wrong after all. Maybe things would never change.
the end