Hey ya, yeahp, it's me again. So here's a new chappy just for you. Thank
you for all the nice reviews, I really appreciated them.
Thanks to Brain for her great new story (READ IT NOW!!!) and for Obst, some sweet SMS (Scheibenheizung), happiness because of x-mas pox, I-m-s (ich schreibs jetzt nicht aus, sonst denken die sonstwas!!) vor!!! Have good meal, JeyK!! ;-)
And also thanks to Fussel for really collecting that stuff, can't tell how moved I am!! Love ya, honey!
And hey, Reggie, you're back kid, yeah!
Now I wish all of you a merry x-mas and great New Year, may the Santa bless ya with loadsa presents!! :-)
I hope the day will be a lighter highway
For friends are found on every road
Can you ever think of any better way
For the lost and weary travellers to go
Making friends for the world to see
Let the people know you got what you need
With a friend at hand you will see the light
If your friends are there then everything's all right
It seems to me a crime that we should age
These fragile times should never slip us by
A time you never can or shall erase
As friends together watch their childhood fly
When Jesse opened his eyes, he was quite astonished that he was able to see something. A numb pain was pounding in his head and causing him a slight nausea, but at least that horrible darkness was gone. He rubbed over his eyes and scanned his surroundings which looked very familar to him, though he didn't even really know why.
"Hey", sounded Marks voice from the door, "so you finally woke up!"
Jesse looked rather puzzled at his friend who peered through the door and nodded merely. His brain only slowly started to work properly again. "What...what happened?", thousands of questions clattered through Jesse's mind within seconds, but that was the only most simple one he wanted to speak out for a start.
"We can talk about that later, Jess...interested in a coffee?" Mark sensed that all the past events were a little too much for his young friend, on empty stomach at least. Jesse again answered Mark's gentle offer with a confused nod.
A little later he was sitting fully dressed at the kitchen table and thankfully sipped on a strong black coffee while he listened to Mark's story in growing disbelief. "A car trunk?", he asked, just to make sure that he hadn't got anything wrong.
Now it was Mark's turn to nod his head, while he saw worriedly how his friend's pale face grimaced in shock. And even though Jesse seemed to have understood everything the older doctor had told, he was totally stone- faced, just like his thoughts were going their own ways into directions which were different to those Mark wanted to lead them.
Hoping that, if he went on speaking, he would be able to turn Jesse's attention back to him, Mark said:"We got you out there just in time. You were...in a rather bad condition..." He didn't think that it was necessary to scare his friend even more by telling him that he had practically been more dead than alive. "After we had checked you over at the hospital I thought it was maybe the best idea to bring you here to get some rest..." Mark almost had to grin when he saw Jesse throwing him a confused glance. "I had given you strong sedatives...that's why you slept most of the time..."
A, however small, grin hushed over Jesse's face, the first in the past two days. "Why do I still ask?", he mumbled amusedly.
"Well, sometimes you don't leave me much of a choice...", laughed Mark, relieved to watch some color returning to Jesse's face.
The young doctor giggled, but then he suddenly said earnestly: "Thank you, Mark. I didn't intend to be so much trouble for you...I'll go home as soon as I've finished this coffee. My shift at the CGH starts off in..."
"Don't even think of it, Mister!", Mark interrupted sternly. "You need to rest!"
"But I'm okay!", lied Jesse. A lie he had told far too often in the past days, he sensed, at Mark's strict shaking of the head. "I feel better while working...really...", he added dejectedly, now telling at least partly the truth. Working was what he had always done to deal with his problems.
"I see", Mark answered in way that made Jesse lift his head quickly. "You feel so good that you start making random accusings and yelling at hospital administrators..." He knew that that was all he had to say. He could see his friend cowering like a small child that was blamed for breaking a plate. Mark hadn't intended to blame him, but he was certain that the best way to get through to Jesse was to appeal at his sensibility. And the fact that his friend was probably blaming himself for what he had done made it a whole lot easier for Mark. Considering that, it felt cruel to the older doctor. But what kind of a choice did he have?
Jesse felt guilty, Mark didn't know how right he was. He had tried to strike Mandy Miller; Brandon Dawn and...Susan out of his mind and just to sit there and enjoy his coffee, but he should have known that Mark wouldn't let him of the hook that easily. Jesse shortly closed his eyes. What the heck had he done in the past days? How could he have been so stupid? And everything because of...her. His heart was racing again.
Mark looked at Jesse worriedly and was afraid that he had been a bit too direct. In fear of an inevitable breakdown he put a reassuring hand on the young doctor's arm, only waiting for what would happen next. Why did he fear Jesse's reaction at all? "You okay? Are you in pain?...", he inquired and practically had to shake Jesse out of his apathetic shape again.
Jesse simply could imagine what his friend had asked and nodded. Then he bowed his head. "I'm sorry..."
"You don't have to be sorry!", answered Mark who was, honestly, almost surprised that Jesse had obviously still enough strength left to pull himself together to amazingly. If he hadn't know better, Mark would have guessed that his own son had been giving lessons to Jesse. Maybe it was a fear of being young. Putting up those great efforts to be grown-up these boys often didn't seem to realize how childish all that was. Mark had been the same when he was younger and experience had taught him that very few people could survive with this strategy for long. At some point you were only hating yourself...
"Jess..." Mark started carefully. Jesse subconsciously tensed. Something in Mark's tone scared him. Very soon Mark would ask him questions he would neither be able to answer nor to dismiss quick-wittedly.
"You know you can't go on like this. Why don't you talk to me?" Mark's words cut into Jesse's mind like a well sharpened knife.
"I...I...", he stammered, searching for words. He didn't know the answer at all. "You wouldn't understand that..." was the cheapest answer that come to his mind.
Mark raised one eyebrow. "Try me...I understand a lot of things..."
Jesse smiled sadly. Oh yeah, probably Mark was right. Probably Mark would get it better than he did himself...why did everyone seem to know him so well? "This is different...I don't understand it myself...", he mumbled remorsefully.
Mark shook his head. Why couldn't he get through to him? That man was like his own son to him and yet seemed to be so far away that he couldn't reach him at all. "I won't let you off the hook like that!", he replied, fearing that it had sounded to threatening at the same time it had slipped out of his mouth.
Jesse couldn't meet his mentor's eyes. He looked away, out of the window, then into his coffee mug, onto his hands. "You can't force me!", he murmured through gritted teeth. He was just sick of being treated like a child. He was sick of those pityful looks, sick of everyone being worried about him....hell, he wasn't the one to worry about! He was okay and if he continued telling this himself, he maybe would be able to believe it at some point. "You're right, I can't force you! But I don't want any harm to you, my friend. I wanna help you!", Mark started his last attempt, putting all the urge into his words he was still able to give after those long tiring hours of worrying sick about his friend. He felt exhausted. Kids very straining, even if they weren't the own. And it didn't matter if they were five or fifteen, twenty-five or forty-five, they were always trouble. A trouble every parent loved to put up with. Trouble that was weaker than the joy they made one feel you, but still sometimes they were demanding all the patience one had and even more than that.
"How do you wanna help me?", snapped Jesse and jumped up, suddenly feeling that he wasn't able to stay calm anymore. He had to shout that whole mess outta him and he simply wished that it wouldn't be Mark that it hit. "You do understand me?! Then c'mon, explain it to me, please!! Why the heck did someone want to kill Susan?! Why did she come back?! Why does it have to be me?! Why doesn't anybody seem to understand that I just want to be left alone?! Can you explain that to me, Mark?!"
Mark closed his eyes. He hated himself for thinking that, but Jesse was indeed behaving completely irrationally. At one moment he was calm, then the next second simply furious and he had a point there since Mark didn't understand him at all. People had different ways to deal with worry and sorrow and Jesse seemed to deal with it by turning into a walking time- bomb. Seeing his young friend standing in front of the window, the roaring ocean in his back, Mark was almost scared of him. And still his worries were simply growing bigger with each minute he stared into Jesse's blue hard-glossing eyes. Mark knew those eyes. That hatred-filled glare, that hostile sparkle. That was the moment he noticed that he seen it earlier. That hatred wasn't against him, he knew that. It was the same rage he had witnessed in another pair of eyes years ago...
When Mark didn't seem to react in any way at his out-break, Jesse stopped yelling. He only remained standing in front of the window, listening to his words that still sounded in his ears. "I'm sorry", he stammered plainly. Then he rushed out onto the terrace. He had to be alone. Mark simply watched him hurrying off. Those few seconds had made some things clearer for him. Now he maybe knew how he was going to help Jesse. In fact he wouldn't help him at all. Someone else had to do it.
Jesse almost crashed into Steve who was walking up the stairs to his fathers deck. He actually hadn't awaited Jesse being awake, considering that mass of sedatives Mark had thrown into the young doctor, but as he could see, Jesse was awake and the way he looked Steve felt that it wasn't a good idea to ask him how he had slept. So Steve tried something more neutral:"Hi Jess, what's u...."
He stopped when he noticed that Jesse completely ignored him. The lieutenant watched his friend stomping away through the sand and shrugged. Hell, what did he know what was going on? He would catch that sick guy who had tried to murder Susan Hilliard...and maybe had succeeded. That was his way of being a friend.
It was about an hour later when Steve found himself walking up the beach, considering what he would say to his friend. He was scared and didn't even know why. He just wasn't good at those things. He was tolerant and understanding, nevertheless Steve Sloan believed that he was one of the worst listeners you could find on this earth and an even worse talker. When Steve approached Jesse, who was sitting in the sand and had leaned against a wooden trunk, from the site, his dad's words hushed through Steve's mind:"You maybe understand him better than I do, son. Please, just try it!"
So Steve would try, but he couldn't fight the feeling that he would fail with coloured flags.
"Hey", he heard himself saying, looking down at his friend, who cowered against the trunk. "Can I help ya?" Oh, that was a terrific way to start a conversation, Steve cursed inwardly.
Jesse winced at those words, but he didn't feel like getting mad again. He simply continued staring at the deep blue sea. "Yeah", he mumbled slowly, "please tell me that I am the greatest stupid fool you've ever known! That'd be the truth at least."
"I was going to, but now that you ruined the punch-line, it's kinda lost its temptation..." Steve shrugged as he bent down next to his friend and smiled sympathically. He could see how much Jesse struggled with himself to hide the broken man behind his cynical way. He could only guess what his friend was feeling now, but if he was right he knew that feeling all to well.
Jesse smiled wryly. "You still can choose between me being an idiot because behaving like I did or a jerk for yelling at your dad, though he only wanted to be nice or ignoring all of you just wanted to be nice..."
"Stop that, I think I got the point!", Steve interrupted him.
"Wouldn't be too certain!", Jesse laughed out nervously.
Steve remained silent for a moment. "You know", he said then, "I think we're very much alike..."
"Oh sure!", his friend replied sarcastically. "I mean, look at us, we could practically be twins!"
"Okay, I started it wrong..."
"Don't say...."
"Okay, gimme another attempt....", Steve requested, suddenly becoming very earnest. "When...uh...when my mom...died...I didn't talk with anybody about it. I thought if I waited long enough, it would become better...that the pain would just..."
"vanish...", Jesse ended the sentence and Steve nodded merely.
"Yeah, probably...but it didn't and at the end I was only furious. Mad at me, mad at everybody, mad at her because she had done that to me...I...I almost went nuts..."
Jesse nodded. There was a long moment of silence when both men followed their own thoughts. Thoughts of the past, the present. To Steve surprise it was his friend who spoke first. "I'm simply scared of losing her, Steve...forever...I thought if I ignore that, it would all turn out to be a nightmare...a...oh hell, I didn't know what I thought. I'm scared, that's all. I had really thought that it was over her...damnit, I deserve it. I'm such a jerk!"
Steve plainly shook his head. "No, you aren't, Jess. She means something to you, there's nothing wrong about it. And no one deserves what you're going through. It just happens. Are you listening to me? It only happens!" He put as much urge into his words as possible, knowing the meaning of that. He could still remember how much he had wanted to hear that once he had been in a similar situation. That depending on the love of people wasn't wrong and that some things just happened you didn't have any control over. "We have one thing in common, Jesse...we both hate losing the control..."
His friend nodded merely. Steve was so right. He was right with everything, but especially that. He threw Steve a look. "How did you go back to 'normal'?"
Steve laughed out, recalling the scene. "There was a cop at the police departement who liked me for unknown reasons. When he saw, how down I was he tried to talk to me...when that didn't work, he took me aside and I the clip of my life around the ears. He said that I had the choice. I could run away from my problems furtherly and get something that was far more painful than that hit or I could finally return to sensibility and face my fears...that was probably what I had needed." He smiled in memory of good old Hanson. That man had been great and right after his dad the wisest guy Steve had ever met.
Jesse listened in astonishment and bowed his head. "Maybe I would have needed that, too..."
"In case you've been hoping for me to beat you, I gotta disappoint you...", Steve grinned wryly.
Jesse shook his head. "I wasn't..."
They both remained sitting and watching the waves floating the beach.
"Thank you...", murmured Jesse, feeling slightly emberassed as he always felt in situation where he was missing the words for the demands. But fortunately Steve seemed to understand. "No problem, pal...", he smiled.
"Just tell me one thing...", Jesse suddenly raised his voice amusedly, "where have you learned that, you know, like, being wise..."
"I had some good teachers...", answered Steve, smiling, but lost in thoughts. Maybe he had really had. Maybe Hanson, his dad, all those guys he had always admired for their coolness and their experience had really left something to him. Even if it was only a smal percent of their own gifts, Steve would already have been more than proud to have that. And he felt proud right now. He felt like a friend.
Jesse got up and cleaned his clothes from the sand and was up to go.
"Where are you going?", asked Steve torn out of thought by his friend's sudden departure.
"I'm gonna face some things...", Jesse replied, thoughtfully. "And I'm gonna start with a pretty huge apology I owe to your father."
Steve nodded. "Good luck!"
Jesse grinned slightly. "Thanks...see ya later, pal!"
Saying that he walked off and left Steve to his thoughts, his memories of a time he loved and hated to remember...maybe it was good to stick to the past sometimes.
Who did actually know what would come next?
TO BE CONTINUED
Well, so hope you enjoyed it bit, though there's really not happening anything *blush*. Sorry again for doing that English to you!! Reviews are always appreciated!
Disclaimer: The song "Friends" was sung by Elton John.
Thanks to Brain for her great new story (READ IT NOW!!!) and for Obst, some sweet SMS (Scheibenheizung), happiness because of x-mas pox, I-m-s (ich schreibs jetzt nicht aus, sonst denken die sonstwas!!) vor!!! Have good meal, JeyK!! ;-)
And also thanks to Fussel for really collecting that stuff, can't tell how moved I am!! Love ya, honey!
And hey, Reggie, you're back kid, yeah!
Now I wish all of you a merry x-mas and great New Year, may the Santa bless ya with loadsa presents!! :-)
I hope the day will be a lighter highway
For friends are found on every road
Can you ever think of any better way
For the lost and weary travellers to go
Making friends for the world to see
Let the people know you got what you need
With a friend at hand you will see the light
If your friends are there then everything's all right
It seems to me a crime that we should age
These fragile times should never slip us by
A time you never can or shall erase
As friends together watch their childhood fly
When Jesse opened his eyes, he was quite astonished that he was able to see something. A numb pain was pounding in his head and causing him a slight nausea, but at least that horrible darkness was gone. He rubbed over his eyes and scanned his surroundings which looked very familar to him, though he didn't even really know why.
"Hey", sounded Marks voice from the door, "so you finally woke up!"
Jesse looked rather puzzled at his friend who peered through the door and nodded merely. His brain only slowly started to work properly again. "What...what happened?", thousands of questions clattered through Jesse's mind within seconds, but that was the only most simple one he wanted to speak out for a start.
"We can talk about that later, Jess...interested in a coffee?" Mark sensed that all the past events were a little too much for his young friend, on empty stomach at least. Jesse again answered Mark's gentle offer with a confused nod.
A little later he was sitting fully dressed at the kitchen table and thankfully sipped on a strong black coffee while he listened to Mark's story in growing disbelief. "A car trunk?", he asked, just to make sure that he hadn't got anything wrong.
Now it was Mark's turn to nod his head, while he saw worriedly how his friend's pale face grimaced in shock. And even though Jesse seemed to have understood everything the older doctor had told, he was totally stone- faced, just like his thoughts were going their own ways into directions which were different to those Mark wanted to lead them.
Hoping that, if he went on speaking, he would be able to turn Jesse's attention back to him, Mark said:"We got you out there just in time. You were...in a rather bad condition..." He didn't think that it was necessary to scare his friend even more by telling him that he had practically been more dead than alive. "After we had checked you over at the hospital I thought it was maybe the best idea to bring you here to get some rest..." Mark almost had to grin when he saw Jesse throwing him a confused glance. "I had given you strong sedatives...that's why you slept most of the time..."
A, however small, grin hushed over Jesse's face, the first in the past two days. "Why do I still ask?", he mumbled amusedly.
"Well, sometimes you don't leave me much of a choice...", laughed Mark, relieved to watch some color returning to Jesse's face.
The young doctor giggled, but then he suddenly said earnestly: "Thank you, Mark. I didn't intend to be so much trouble for you...I'll go home as soon as I've finished this coffee. My shift at the CGH starts off in..."
"Don't even think of it, Mister!", Mark interrupted sternly. "You need to rest!"
"But I'm okay!", lied Jesse. A lie he had told far too often in the past days, he sensed, at Mark's strict shaking of the head. "I feel better while working...really...", he added dejectedly, now telling at least partly the truth. Working was what he had always done to deal with his problems.
"I see", Mark answered in way that made Jesse lift his head quickly. "You feel so good that you start making random accusings and yelling at hospital administrators..." He knew that that was all he had to say. He could see his friend cowering like a small child that was blamed for breaking a plate. Mark hadn't intended to blame him, but he was certain that the best way to get through to Jesse was to appeal at his sensibility. And the fact that his friend was probably blaming himself for what he had done made it a whole lot easier for Mark. Considering that, it felt cruel to the older doctor. But what kind of a choice did he have?
Jesse felt guilty, Mark didn't know how right he was. He had tried to strike Mandy Miller; Brandon Dawn and...Susan out of his mind and just to sit there and enjoy his coffee, but he should have known that Mark wouldn't let him of the hook that easily. Jesse shortly closed his eyes. What the heck had he done in the past days? How could he have been so stupid? And everything because of...her. His heart was racing again.
Mark looked at Jesse worriedly and was afraid that he had been a bit too direct. In fear of an inevitable breakdown he put a reassuring hand on the young doctor's arm, only waiting for what would happen next. Why did he fear Jesse's reaction at all? "You okay? Are you in pain?...", he inquired and practically had to shake Jesse out of his apathetic shape again.
Jesse simply could imagine what his friend had asked and nodded. Then he bowed his head. "I'm sorry..."
"You don't have to be sorry!", answered Mark who was, honestly, almost surprised that Jesse had obviously still enough strength left to pull himself together to amazingly. If he hadn't know better, Mark would have guessed that his own son had been giving lessons to Jesse. Maybe it was a fear of being young. Putting up those great efforts to be grown-up these boys often didn't seem to realize how childish all that was. Mark had been the same when he was younger and experience had taught him that very few people could survive with this strategy for long. At some point you were only hating yourself...
"Jess..." Mark started carefully. Jesse subconsciously tensed. Something in Mark's tone scared him. Very soon Mark would ask him questions he would neither be able to answer nor to dismiss quick-wittedly.
"You know you can't go on like this. Why don't you talk to me?" Mark's words cut into Jesse's mind like a well sharpened knife.
"I...I...", he stammered, searching for words. He didn't know the answer at all. "You wouldn't understand that..." was the cheapest answer that come to his mind.
Mark raised one eyebrow. "Try me...I understand a lot of things..."
Jesse smiled sadly. Oh yeah, probably Mark was right. Probably Mark would get it better than he did himself...why did everyone seem to know him so well? "This is different...I don't understand it myself...", he mumbled remorsefully.
Mark shook his head. Why couldn't he get through to him? That man was like his own son to him and yet seemed to be so far away that he couldn't reach him at all. "I won't let you off the hook like that!", he replied, fearing that it had sounded to threatening at the same time it had slipped out of his mouth.
Jesse couldn't meet his mentor's eyes. He looked away, out of the window, then into his coffee mug, onto his hands. "You can't force me!", he murmured through gritted teeth. He was just sick of being treated like a child. He was sick of those pityful looks, sick of everyone being worried about him....hell, he wasn't the one to worry about! He was okay and if he continued telling this himself, he maybe would be able to believe it at some point. "You're right, I can't force you! But I don't want any harm to you, my friend. I wanna help you!", Mark started his last attempt, putting all the urge into his words he was still able to give after those long tiring hours of worrying sick about his friend. He felt exhausted. Kids very straining, even if they weren't the own. And it didn't matter if they were five or fifteen, twenty-five or forty-five, they were always trouble. A trouble every parent loved to put up with. Trouble that was weaker than the joy they made one feel you, but still sometimes they were demanding all the patience one had and even more than that.
"How do you wanna help me?", snapped Jesse and jumped up, suddenly feeling that he wasn't able to stay calm anymore. He had to shout that whole mess outta him and he simply wished that it wouldn't be Mark that it hit. "You do understand me?! Then c'mon, explain it to me, please!! Why the heck did someone want to kill Susan?! Why did she come back?! Why does it have to be me?! Why doesn't anybody seem to understand that I just want to be left alone?! Can you explain that to me, Mark?!"
Mark closed his eyes. He hated himself for thinking that, but Jesse was indeed behaving completely irrationally. At one moment he was calm, then the next second simply furious and he had a point there since Mark didn't understand him at all. People had different ways to deal with worry and sorrow and Jesse seemed to deal with it by turning into a walking time- bomb. Seeing his young friend standing in front of the window, the roaring ocean in his back, Mark was almost scared of him. And still his worries were simply growing bigger with each minute he stared into Jesse's blue hard-glossing eyes. Mark knew those eyes. That hatred-filled glare, that hostile sparkle. That was the moment he noticed that he seen it earlier. That hatred wasn't against him, he knew that. It was the same rage he had witnessed in another pair of eyes years ago...
When Mark didn't seem to react in any way at his out-break, Jesse stopped yelling. He only remained standing in front of the window, listening to his words that still sounded in his ears. "I'm sorry", he stammered plainly. Then he rushed out onto the terrace. He had to be alone. Mark simply watched him hurrying off. Those few seconds had made some things clearer for him. Now he maybe knew how he was going to help Jesse. In fact he wouldn't help him at all. Someone else had to do it.
Jesse almost crashed into Steve who was walking up the stairs to his fathers deck. He actually hadn't awaited Jesse being awake, considering that mass of sedatives Mark had thrown into the young doctor, but as he could see, Jesse was awake and the way he looked Steve felt that it wasn't a good idea to ask him how he had slept. So Steve tried something more neutral:"Hi Jess, what's u...."
He stopped when he noticed that Jesse completely ignored him. The lieutenant watched his friend stomping away through the sand and shrugged. Hell, what did he know what was going on? He would catch that sick guy who had tried to murder Susan Hilliard...and maybe had succeeded. That was his way of being a friend.
It was about an hour later when Steve found himself walking up the beach, considering what he would say to his friend. He was scared and didn't even know why. He just wasn't good at those things. He was tolerant and understanding, nevertheless Steve Sloan believed that he was one of the worst listeners you could find on this earth and an even worse talker. When Steve approached Jesse, who was sitting in the sand and had leaned against a wooden trunk, from the site, his dad's words hushed through Steve's mind:"You maybe understand him better than I do, son. Please, just try it!"
So Steve would try, but he couldn't fight the feeling that he would fail with coloured flags.
"Hey", he heard himself saying, looking down at his friend, who cowered against the trunk. "Can I help ya?" Oh, that was a terrific way to start a conversation, Steve cursed inwardly.
Jesse winced at those words, but he didn't feel like getting mad again. He simply continued staring at the deep blue sea. "Yeah", he mumbled slowly, "please tell me that I am the greatest stupid fool you've ever known! That'd be the truth at least."
"I was going to, but now that you ruined the punch-line, it's kinda lost its temptation..." Steve shrugged as he bent down next to his friend and smiled sympathically. He could see how much Jesse struggled with himself to hide the broken man behind his cynical way. He could only guess what his friend was feeling now, but if he was right he knew that feeling all to well.
Jesse smiled wryly. "You still can choose between me being an idiot because behaving like I did or a jerk for yelling at your dad, though he only wanted to be nice or ignoring all of you just wanted to be nice..."
"Stop that, I think I got the point!", Steve interrupted him.
"Wouldn't be too certain!", Jesse laughed out nervously.
Steve remained silent for a moment. "You know", he said then, "I think we're very much alike..."
"Oh sure!", his friend replied sarcastically. "I mean, look at us, we could practically be twins!"
"Okay, I started it wrong..."
"Don't say...."
"Okay, gimme another attempt....", Steve requested, suddenly becoming very earnest. "When...uh...when my mom...died...I didn't talk with anybody about it. I thought if I waited long enough, it would become better...that the pain would just..."
"vanish...", Jesse ended the sentence and Steve nodded merely.
"Yeah, probably...but it didn't and at the end I was only furious. Mad at me, mad at everybody, mad at her because she had done that to me...I...I almost went nuts..."
Jesse nodded. There was a long moment of silence when both men followed their own thoughts. Thoughts of the past, the present. To Steve surprise it was his friend who spoke first. "I'm simply scared of losing her, Steve...forever...I thought if I ignore that, it would all turn out to be a nightmare...a...oh hell, I didn't know what I thought. I'm scared, that's all. I had really thought that it was over her...damnit, I deserve it. I'm such a jerk!"
Steve plainly shook his head. "No, you aren't, Jess. She means something to you, there's nothing wrong about it. And no one deserves what you're going through. It just happens. Are you listening to me? It only happens!" He put as much urge into his words as possible, knowing the meaning of that. He could still remember how much he had wanted to hear that once he had been in a similar situation. That depending on the love of people wasn't wrong and that some things just happened you didn't have any control over. "We have one thing in common, Jesse...we both hate losing the control..."
His friend nodded merely. Steve was so right. He was right with everything, but especially that. He threw Steve a look. "How did you go back to 'normal'?"
Steve laughed out, recalling the scene. "There was a cop at the police departement who liked me for unknown reasons. When he saw, how down I was he tried to talk to me...when that didn't work, he took me aside and I the clip of my life around the ears. He said that I had the choice. I could run away from my problems furtherly and get something that was far more painful than that hit or I could finally return to sensibility and face my fears...that was probably what I had needed." He smiled in memory of good old Hanson. That man had been great and right after his dad the wisest guy Steve had ever met.
Jesse listened in astonishment and bowed his head. "Maybe I would have needed that, too..."
"In case you've been hoping for me to beat you, I gotta disappoint you...", Steve grinned wryly.
Jesse shook his head. "I wasn't..."
They both remained sitting and watching the waves floating the beach.
"Thank you...", murmured Jesse, feeling slightly emberassed as he always felt in situation where he was missing the words for the demands. But fortunately Steve seemed to understand. "No problem, pal...", he smiled.
"Just tell me one thing...", Jesse suddenly raised his voice amusedly, "where have you learned that, you know, like, being wise..."
"I had some good teachers...", answered Steve, smiling, but lost in thoughts. Maybe he had really had. Maybe Hanson, his dad, all those guys he had always admired for their coolness and their experience had really left something to him. Even if it was only a smal percent of their own gifts, Steve would already have been more than proud to have that. And he felt proud right now. He felt like a friend.
Jesse got up and cleaned his clothes from the sand and was up to go.
"Where are you going?", asked Steve torn out of thought by his friend's sudden departure.
"I'm gonna face some things...", Jesse replied, thoughtfully. "And I'm gonna start with a pretty huge apology I owe to your father."
Steve nodded. "Good luck!"
Jesse grinned slightly. "Thanks...see ya later, pal!"
Saying that he walked off and left Steve to his thoughts, his memories of a time he loved and hated to remember...maybe it was good to stick to the past sometimes.
Who did actually know what would come next?
TO BE CONTINUED
Well, so hope you enjoyed it bit, though there's really not happening anything *blush*. Sorry again for doing that English to you!! Reviews are always appreciated!
Disclaimer: The song "Friends" was sung by Elton John.