Chapter 7: Breakthrough

(Tuesday, 08 July, 2003.  1320 hours.)

"I'm not sure I can do this," Jesse said, looking nervously from his father to Cinnamon Carter as Dr. Lewis and one of the techs finished setting up the monitoring equipment.  Jesse had been called upon to help deprogram Steve, and he was terrified at the prospect of failure.  If things went badly, not only would he lose his best friend, but he was also sure Mark would never forgive him.

"You have to, honey," Cinnamon said, "We need someone Steve can trust or this will never work."

"Then Mark should be here," Jesse insisted, "Steve trusts him more than anyone on earth."

"No, Son.  Mark can't do this," Dane Travis told his son. 

"Why not?  I don't understand."

Dane turned to look through the observation window at the man floating in the plastic tank, and Jesse and Cinnamon turned with him.  While he was still unconscious, Steve had been stripped and placed in the tub of blood warm water.  A light harness held his head up, and long, soft straps kept his hands and feet tethered just below the surface.  He was practically weightless, and totally helpless.  The warm water forced his body to relax, despite the fear he would undoubtedly feel.  The drugs needed to break through the chemical memory blocks Mateo had established would be delivered through a series of effervescent tablets that would dissolve in the water, their active ingredients being absorbed through the skin.  Sensors placed in the water circulation and heating system would monitor the drug levels in the tank and tell them when to administer the next dose.

Dane shivered.  He didn't know about Steve, but for him, the most terrifying aspect of being in the tank would probably have been finding himself so completely at the mercy of another man.  He turned to face his son again.

"Jesse, if that were you, I would be a wreck," Dane confessed.  "Mark Sloan doesn't love his son any more than I love you, but he and Steve are closer than you and I have ever been.  Seeing his son like this, watching him suffer through the trials he will have to face, standing back and making Steve work through things on his own, it would destroy Mark.  We know Steve trusts you, we're hoping you can maintain the professional distance necessary to get him through this without making him dependent on you."

"What if I screw up, Dad?"

"You couldn't possibly make things worse for him, son," Dane said gently, "and Cinnamon and I won't let you fail."

"Dr. Lewis is an expert at this sort of thing, Jesse," Cinnamon said.  "She helped develop some of these methods, but she doesn't know Steve like you do.  She can help with the psychology and the drugs, but it is your instincts, your knowledge of the patient, and his trust in you that will get him through this."

Jesse had some serious reservations about collaborating with the woman who had invented the procedures that had allowed some mercenary to take over his friend's mind, but he knew now was not the time to voice them.  He watched Dr. Lewis for a moment.  She was all business, which Jesse supposed was the way to be in her line of work.  Humanity and compassion would certainly be a hindrance when your job was to systematically disintegrate a man's psyche and then reconstruct it from the ground up.

Walking over to her, he asked, "Can he really get better, I mean all better?"

"Absolutely," Dr. Lewis said flatly as she turned to face him.  Her jet-black hair was all scraped up into a severe bun on the top of her head.  It was pulled back so tightly, her eyes, peering over the tops of her horn-rimmed spectacles, looked permanently surprised.  Pencil thin eyebrows and sparse eyelashes framed cold gray eyes, and her lipstick seemed bloody red against skin so white it was almost translucent.  He nails were short and well manicured, painted red to match the lipstick.  She wore a pristine white lab coat over trousers and a turtleneck sweater so dark they seemed to swallow the light.

"It will take a long time, and lot of work," she said in the same monotone, "and it will be hard on you and harder on him, but working together, you and he can undo all the damage that has been done."

"O-Ok, I'll do my best."

Dr. Lewis smiled coldly, and, through a microphone told a tech in another room, "Administer the first dose."  Turning to Jesse, she said, "There are some important things you have to remember."

After a moment, Jesse prompted her, "So, what are they?"

"No matter how agitated he gets, you have to remain calm."

"Ok."

"Don't give him any information," the doctor said.  "Don't even confirm or deny anything unless I tell you to do so.  That is vitally important."

"Why?"

"With the drugs we're giving him, anything you tell him will become his reality, even if it's true, it will be a false memory.  It will be something you planted there, and not something he really knows."

"But, if I tell him the truth, does that really matter?"

"Yes," Dr. Lewis insisted, "the only way to break through the blocks Mateo created is for Steve to remember things for himself.  If you tell him what you think he needs to know, you're just laying one layer of false memories atop another.  He might know the same information, but he will never retrieve the emotions and experiences that went with it.  He will never be able to deal with them.  Also, there might be other memories attached to the ones we are trying to get him to recall, and if you bury them under false recollections, they will never come back.  Do you understand?"

"Yes.  Is that all?"

"Not quite.  Never let him off the hook for anything," for once, the woman's voice inflection changed.  It became colder and harder and gave Jesse a chill.  "Make him do everything you say, and make sure he answers all your questions.  Never, ever skip over something, planning to come back to it later."

"Isn't that a little harsh?"

"Yes, but it's absolutely necessary.  Unfortunately, all of us have to remember the good with the bad in order to be whole."  Surprisingly, her voice held a little compassion.  Then, suddenly, it was all business again.  "Also, Mateo may have implanted a secondary mission as a fail safe, and if he ever gets the idea that he can duck the tough issues, he may be able to hide the programming from us."

"Ok."  Jesse moved toward his chair, but Dr. Lewis put a gentle hand on his arm.

"One last thing.  Don't tell him who you are."

"What?" Jesse shouted in surprise.  "I thought the whole reason I was doing this was that he trusted me."

"It is, but just like the memories, he has to figure that out for himself.  With the drugs we are using, Darth Vader and the Borg Queen could take turns calling themselves by your name, and your friend would believe them both and do everything they said."

At Jesse's horrified look, Dr. Lewis said, "He is just that vulnerable, Dr. Travis, and on some level he knows it.  This is just the beginning, and all of his work with you has to be built on trust.  He will fight you and fear you at first.  He will try to ignore you, and then beg for your attention.  He may learn to trust you before he knows who you are, or he may remember you and then know he can trust you.  Either way, he has to make the call himself.  In order to really trust you, he has to figure out on his own who you are.  When he finally, truly knows you, things will be a lot easier for you both.  Until then, you will have to remain detached and demanding, got it?"

Jesse nodded, realizing she had said 'trust' four times, and knew that was the only reason there was any hope at all for his friend.  He blinked back the tears that were stinging his eyes.  "Yes.  I understand.  This is going to be very difficult."

"Yes, it is," Dr. Lewis agreed with just a hint of sympathy, "but you will be able to do it, because you love your friend and truly want to help."

Jesse smiled slightly, then, took his seat and slipped on a headset microphone so he could hear and speak to his friend.  Within moments, Steve began to splash feebly in the water.

(Tuesday, 08 July, 2003.  1330 hours.)

Steve drifted slowly awake.  At first, he felt warm and comfortable, and unusually light, and very safe.  Then he realized he was back in the Water, and he could hear the Thudding of his heart and the Shushhhhing of his breath.  The whole room was dark, except for the light over the tub.  It made him feel tremendously vulnerable and exposed. 

Steve began to weep again.  As frightened as he was, he knew it would do no good to fight.  There was no escape.  What he had always thought was his real life had been nothing but a dream.  His real world had been just the Water and the Voice and the Face and the Pain and the horrible noises.  His dad and his friends, Jesse and Amanda, the beach house and the hospital, had all been an elaborate fantasy.  The Voice had told him that once, and he now knew it was true, because he had killed the man with the Face in his dream world, just like the Voice had told him to, and he was still here.  He had even killed himself in his dream, just to be sure it was over, and it had not worked.  He was still here, in the Water, waiting for the bad pictures and the Voice and the Face and the Pain.  The Thudding and the Shushhhhing grew louder.

"Steve?" The Voice said tentatively.

"Nooooo," he whined.

"Steve, can you hear me?" the Voice asked.

"I hear you," he said.  "Go away."

"I can't do that, Steve.  I won't do that.  I won't leave you alone."

"Then kill me!" Steve suddenly screamed. 

"Steve!" the Voice shouted back, surprised.

Steve realized instantly that this was the first time the Voice had shown any shock or surprise.  It was the first time he had ever, in his whole life, been able to affect it, and, even as the Thudding and the Shushhhhing grew louder, he instinctively pressed his advantage. 

"Kill me and end this!" he demanded, and began to fight against the cords that bound him beneath the Water.  "I can't take any more.  It's too much.  I want to die!" he screamed.

"Steve!" The Voice yelled back, worried, "You don't mean that!"

"I do," Steve insisted, "I really do!"  He fought harder at his bonds, and the Water splashed in his face, making him cough, disrupting the Shushhhhing.  He could feel the Thudding in his bones as the water vibrated all around him.  "I want to die now.  Please, please, kill me!"

"Steve," the Voice called back, and Steve was sure he heard tears in it.  "I can't do that.  I could never do that.  I could never, ever hurt you."

"Yes, you can," Steve sobbed, and stopped struggling with his bonds.  "You can do anything you want to me.  You always have.  Please, kill me.  Kill me and find someone else.  Please!"

Tears streaming down his face, Jesse swallowed a sob as he watched his best friend stop fighting and hang limply in the water, pleading for an end to his life.  He took a deep breath and opened his mouth to reply, but a hand suddenly covered his microphone and his headset was removed.

"What the hell are you doing?" he demanded as he turned on Dr. Lewis.

"Stopping you from doing more damage," she said coolly. 

"What do you mean?"

"You cannot react to him, no matter what he says or does, you cannot react emotionally."  The woman spoke in an absolute monotone.  There was no rise and fall of pitch, no change of volume.  Every word came out the same.

"Why the hell not?  He's my best friend, and he's begging me to kill him."

"Jesse," Dane Travis called his son's name softly, and Jesse turned to face him.  "That man is not your friend right now.  He is your patient.  He's just some guy who has been psychologically disassembled by some sick bastard who wanted to use him, and now, he is counting on you to put him back together."

"But how do I do that?" Jesse pleaded, desperate to help, but not knowing where to begin.

"You start by remaining calm," Dr. Lewis said.  "No matter what, you remain calm."

"How do I do that?  The man is my friend."

"The man is a train wreck," Dr. Lewis corrected him.  "He is just another patient who desperately needs your help.  You need to be his anchor as he drifts amid the false memories and the very real remembered terrors that he suffered through.  You will be his solid ground as the façade Mateo created crumbles around him, and you will help build the foundation as he reconstructs his true identity."

"How?" Jesse demanded urgently, aware that Steve was becoming more frantic with each passing moment.  "How can I do and be all of that for him?  What do I do?  Where do I start?"

If anything, Dr. Lewis' became even more expressionless.  "Take a deep breath.  Calm yourself.  Forget he's a friend.  Forget that you care.  Then, make him calm down, too."

Jesse breathed deeply for several moments, trying to relax, trying to center himself, trying not to think of how frightened his friend was.  Finally, he found a cold, calm space in his mind, and he put the headset back on.

Until the Voice left him, Steve could not imagine being more frightened than he already was, but when he found himself alone in the Water, he grew absolutely frantic.  Each Thud became a jolt that coursed through his body, almost as powerful as the Pain, jarring him.  The noise of the Shushhhhing drowned his thoughts, heightening his confusion and fear.  The Voice had never left him alone before, and while he hated to hear it all the time, being without it was infinitely worse.

"Wait!" he screamed.  "Don't leave me!  Please, kill me if you must go, but don't leave me alone!  I'm afraid to be all alone.  Please, don't go."

"Noooooo!" Jesse heard his patient wail out on a sob as he replaced his headset, and bracing himself against his own inner turmoil, he forced himself to respond calmly.

"Steve?"

"You're back.  Oh, thank you for coming back," Steve babbled gratefully.  "Why did you leave?  Where did you go?  Please don't leave me alone again.  I was afraid.  I don't like being alone in the Water."

Ignoring his friend's pleading, Jesse replied in a toneless voice.  "I didn't leave.  I didn't go anywhere.  I just couldn't talk to you.  I told you I wouldn't leave you, and I meant that.  You don't have to be afraid, Steve, I won't let anything happen to you."

"Promise?" Steve whimpered.

In the observation room, Jesse wiped a hand across his eyes and said, "I promise."

"Ok."

"I want you to listen to me very carefully, Steve," the Voice said.  "I want you to look at some pictures for me."

"NO!  NO PICTURES!  I HATE THE PICTURES!"

Dr. Lewis slipped Jesse a note.  Ignore him.

"THE BAD PICTURES ALWAYS COME!"

Another note slid in front of Jesse before he could question the first one.  Do not engage in conversation.  Do not try to reason. 

"THEN I SEE THE FACE!"

A new sheet said, He is beyond reasoning right now.

"THEN THE PAIN COMES!"

Jesse covered the microphone for a moment and whispered harshly, "What the hell do I do, then?"

He pulled one earpiece away and listened as Dr. Lewis told him, "Show him the first picture.  Continue talking calmly.  Tell him what you want him to do.  Repeat it as many times as necessary until he calms down and cooperates."

Jesse nodded and pressed the button that brought up the first picture.

"Look at this picture, Steve," the Voice commanded calmly.

"NOOOOOOO!" Steve wailed as he squeezed his eyes tightly shut.

"Tell me what is happening in this picture."

"I WON'T LOOK!"

Jesse forced himself to remain calm in the face of his friend's hysteria.

"Look at it, and tell me what's happening, Steve."

"I WON'T!"

"You must."

"NO!"

"Yes!"

"NO!"

"The picture isn't going away until you look at it and tell me about it."

"Why?"

Remembering Dr. Lewis' advice, Jesse ignored the question and just said, "Look at the picture, Steve, and tell me what's happening."

"I DON'T WANT TO!"

(Tuesday, 08 July, 2003.  1730 hours.)

"Tell me about this picture, Steve."  After half an hour of screaming, sobbing, begging, and refusing to cooperate, Steve had finally given in and looked at the first picture.  Between sobs and hiccups, he had described a day spent on the beach with his mother and sister shortly after the Sloan family had moved to the beach house.  They had been building sand castles, and Steve had anxiously awaited his father's return so that they could show him the fruits of their labor.  Unfortunately, one of Mark's patients had taken a sudden turn for the worse, and he hadn't made it home before the high tide had washed it away.

After describing the picture, Steve had then refused to say whether the scene was real or his imagination.  With Dr. Lewis' help, Jesse had finally got him to accept that just because the Water and the things that had happened to him there were real didn't mean that things that had happened in the other world had to be imaginary.  Once he understood that the memories of events in the other world could be real, he became much more cooperative.

They had been working for four solid hours now, and Dr. Lewis was determined that they would continue until Steve remembered Jesse or passed out from fatigue.  They had started from the earliest pictures and worked chronologically to the most recent ones.  They were just now getting to the pictures of events Jesse had been a part of.  Up to this point, all of Steve's responses, minus the weeping and pleas to end his misery, had been transcribed for Mark and Amanda.  So far, it seemed they were batting a thousand.  All of Steve's explanations had matched the pictures precisely, and despite the fact that his friend had yet to recognize his voice, Jesse was feeling hopeful that Steve would indeed recover completely.

"Jesse," Dr. Lewis said, "he hasn't answered you."

"Huh?"

"Make him answer you, Jesse."

It took Jesse a moment to realize Dr. Lewis had told him Steve hadn't replied.  When her words finally filtered through, he smiled slightly.  He hadn't noticed Steve's prolonged silence because he was tired himself, so he could only imagine how weary Steve must be.  Dr. Lewis was a slave driver, but she had remained the consummate professional, and as the day wore on, whenever Jesse became discouraged or upset, she had been there with an encouraging word or a supportive squeeze on the arm.  Cinnamon Carter and Dane Travis had remained in the background, but Dr. Lewis had been right there beside him the entire time.

"Ask him again," she said.

Jesse nodded at Dr. Lewis.  Through the course of this difficult day, he had come to realize that she really did care about helping Steve.  "Tell me about this picture, Steve."

"It was Christmas, a few years ago.  We were all singing, Carol and Dad and me and Norman.  Norman took the picture."  Steve fell silent for a long moment, then he added, "Jesse and Amanda are there, too, all my friends and family.  CJ was just a baby."

"And what happened, Steve?"

"My sister came home," Steve said, a bit grumpy.  "I got hurt.  A lot of other things happened then, too, but we were happy here."

"Ask him what other things," Dr. Lewis prompted.

"What other things happened, Steve?"

"I-I don't want to talk about them." 

There was a brief war of silence while Steve refused to speak further and the Voice refused to go on.  There was something terribly familiar about the Voice, and Steve had been trying for a while to work out what it was, but the constant pictures and questions had kept his mind so muddled he hadn't had time to think.  He remembered very well what had happened that time when Carol had come to visit, but he didn't want to think about that.  He wanted to think about the Voice.

He concentrated hard on the picture before him and tried to remember everything about that day.  It had been an uncommonly happy time for all of them.  He and Carol were on good terms, at least for the moment.  It was CJ's first Christmas.  Jesse had spent Christmas Day with them at the beach house, running up Steve's pay-per-view bill.  Even Norman had been cheerful.

"Jesse?" Steve called out tentatively, and the Thudding began to race, "Jesse, is that you?"

Jesse looked on in surprise.  After all this time, out of nowhere, Steve suddenly knew him.  Jesse was poised to reply when Dr. Lewis covered his microphone again. 

"Do not confirm or deny," she commanded.  "For it to be real, he has to decide for himself.  He has to believe it for himself.  Make him figure it out."

"Dammit, answer me!" Steve yelled when the Voice was silent too long.  "Are you Jesse Travis or not?"

Though he was dying to just yell, 'Yes!  Yes I am!  Thank God you remember.  Welcome back,' Jesse managed instead to follow the doctor's instructions.

"Why would you ask me that?"

"Jesse, why are you doing this to me?"  Steve was suddenly furious and frantic.  He began fighting his bonds again, struggling to get out of the tank and find his friend for an explanation.

"What makes you think I'm Jesse?" the Voice asked calmly.

"You sound just like him.  You are Jesse, aren't you?" Steve replied as he tugged hard on the tethers holding his hands below water.

Jesse looked pleadingly at Dr. Lewis, who shook her head.  "Not yet," she said.  "Make him figure it out on his own, so he knows it's true."

"Voices can be faked, Steve," the Voice said.

"I know," Steve admitted, "but not this time.  Why are you doing this to me, Jesse?"

"Ask him why he thinks it's you again," Dr. Lewis suggested, "Make him understand and explain why he believes you're here."

"Why do you think I'm Jesse, Steve?" the Voice asked.

"Oh, stop playing these stupid games, Jess!" Steve began sobbing miserably as he once again confronted the reality that there was no escape from his current situation.  The Thudding grew louder, and each time he gathered himself for another loud wail, the Shushhhhing roared like a hurricane and Steve realized again that he was completely dependent on someone else and could not help himself.  "Get me out of here.  Please!"

Jesse was on the verge of tears at the sight of his friend's distress, but he at least managed to sound cool and detached.

"Steve, tell me why you think I am Jesse," the Voice droned.

"Because you're kind and patient.  The other Voice was mean, and it hurt me.  You haven't hurt me."

"And?" Jesse knew his friend well enough that Steve was holding back.  There was more to say. 

"Every time you say my name, I can tell you care about me," Steve tearfully replied.  "The other Voice didn't care about me.  Oh, Jesse, what happened to me?  Why are you doing this to me?  Did I do something wrong?"

When Jesse turned to Dr. Lewis for guidance, he was so choked with emotion he couldn't form the words required to ask what to do next, but Dr. Lewis had been watching the exchange carefully, and was prepared.  A flurry of notes came to Jesse.

"Jesse?"  Steve called into the darkness.  "Jesse, where are you?  Please, help me, Jess."

The first note said simply, Calm down.  Jesse closed his eyes, took several deep breaths, and when he felt he was back in control, he opened his eyes and nodded.

Reassure him that he has done nothing wrong and that you will not leave him, said the second note.

"JESSE!!!"  He had to shout to be heard above the Thudding and the Shushhhhing.

"Steve?  Steve, listen to me," Jesse's voice came to him softly from the darkness.

"Oh, my God, Jesse, you're still here," Steve was plainly relieved.  "Please don't leave again.  What have I done?  Why won't you help me?"

"You have done nothing wrong, Steve," Jesse spoke smoothly over his friend's distraught babble, repeating his name often to force him to pay attention.  "Do you hear me, Steve?  You have done nothing wrong.  Steve, do you understand?"

"Yes, yes, I understand.  Jesse, where are you?"  As Steve looked around him, peering into the darkness, the Thudding gradually slowed.  "Please don't leave me all by myself."

"I won't leave you, Steve.  I will stay right here.  I promise."  Jesse looked at the next note as he spoke.

Tell him something happened to him this weekend and that you are going to help him remember what happened, no more, no less.

"Jesse, please, please get me out of here.  Help me, Jess."

"I will, Steve," Jesse's voice assured him.  "Something happened to you this weekend, Steve . . ."

"What?  What happened?" Steve asked worriedly.

"I can't tell you, Steve, but I will help you."  Jesse was so calm.

"I don't remember," Steve said, confused.

"I know, Steve.  You have forgotten important parts of what happened.  I'm here to help you, buddy.  I promise I will help you remember.  You just have to be patient, ok?"

"I remember this place, Jess.  I remember the other Voice, and the Face and the Pain, and the noise.  I remember the Water, Jess," Steve was growing frightened again, and the Thudding and Shushhhhing increased.  "I hate the Water, Jess.  Can you please just get me out of the Water?"

Jesse looked to Dr. Lewis who adamantly shook her head no.

"I-I can't do that just yet, Steve, I'm sorry."

"Oh, God, Jess, please!" Steve begged, and the Thudding shook the room.  "You don't know what it's like.  Please, Jess.  Please, get me out of here."

As he had done before when Steve refused to look at the pictures, Jesse just continued speaking softly and insistently until Steve calmed down enough to listen.  It took nearly ten minutes.

"Steve, can you hear me?"

"Yes," came the soft reply.  Steve was hoarse from all the screaming and yelling and crying he had done.

"Good."  Jesse tried to sound cheerful but his heart was breaking for his friend.  "There are just three things you need to know right now, ok, buddy?"

"Ok."

"First, you are safe here, and no one is going to hurt you.  Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Second, you have done nothing wrong.  You were the victim in all this, and nobody plans to punish you for anything."

"Then why am I back here?"

"Steve, you have done nothing wrong," Jesse refused to answer his question.  "Do you understand that?"

"Yes, but then why is this happening to me again?"

"Well, that is the third thing you need to know, Steve.  You have forgotten some important things.  This will help you remember.  I will help you remember.  I will be here with you as long as you need me.  Do you understand?"

"You won't go away?"

"No, Steve, I won't go away."

"You promise?"

"I promise."

"Ok, Jesse, I trust you."

Jesse breathed a sigh of relief, grateful to be through with the ordeal, but Dr. Lewis slipped him another note.  Ask him about the picture again.  What other things happened?

Covering his microphone, Jesse said sharply, "He needs a break!"

"Not yet, Doctor," she said coolly.  "Remember, never let him off the hook.  Make him answer all your questions.  Make him face everything.  It's the only way he'll ever get it all back."

Closing his eyes and gritting his teeth, Jesse took another deep calming breath.  Then he looked down at his friend and spoke softly.

"Steve?"

"Jess?  You're still there?  You were so quiet for a while, I thought you might have left."

"No, Steve, I didn't leave.  I promised you I'd stay here, and I meant it.  I won't leave you alone.  I'll stay with you until you're through this, ok?"

"Ok."

"Now, I want you to look at the picture again.  You told me all about it once, but you also mentioned other things that had happened.  Tell me about those other things."

"I don't want to.  You were there.  You remember," Steve said petulantly.  "I'm tired.  I want to rest."

"I know, Steve, I'm tired, too, and I was there, and I do remember.  I just need to know what you remember."

Steve sulked and fussed for a few minutes, but finally, he gave in and told them all about how Carol's truck driver husband had died for blackmailing some of his coworkers who were illegally dumping toxic waste.  Steve explained all the difficulties that had developed from his late brother-in-law's greedy actions, and even lectured Jesse again about the hazards of undertaking police investigations without the proper training.

As Steve recounted the events of Carol's last visit home, Dr. Lewis told Jesse, "Wrap it up.  This is good for today.  I am surprised we made such an important breakthrough so early."  She looked at Jesse with her soft gray eyes, and said, "That speaks volumes about your friendship.  Tell him he can rest.  We're going to put something in the water to make him sleep, and he will wake up in a bed."

"Ok, Steve, that's good," Jesse said as Steve finished up, "It's time for a break.  There's going to be a drug in the water soon to help you sleep.  When you wake up, you'll be in a bed."

Jesse heard a deep sigh of relief from his friend, and then Steve said tremulously, "Will I have to go back in the Water?"  The Thudding increased slightly again.

Jesse looked hopefully to Dr. Lewis who smiled and shook her head no.

"No, buddy, you won't.  That part's over now."

Jesse heard a deep shaky breath, and then, as Steve struggled for control, he heard him say, "Oh, good."