Sorry it's taken me a few days. I thought that I could get to this faster, since I'm off on Spring Break this week, but I guess since that I've been running around like a chicken with it's head cut off for the past weeks, I'm paying for it.
Show Choir got 2nd place, and I, out of 100, got an 83, 84, and 89. Pretty good for my first competition. I just hope I do well enough by December, so I can make it into Juilliard....
Anyways, on with the story.
~~~*~~~
I saw something I thought I never would have seen today. I saw Jesse cry.
Not just a couple of trickles of tears down his face, but body shaking sobbing.
I have become increasingly concerned about him since Meg was hospitalized. I think that he was pushing down all of his emotions from this, and Meg has triggered something. He's been wearing long sleeves. I don't know if that's something to be worried about, but in general, I'm just worried.
~~*~~
I went to his apartment today to confront him. I knocked for 5 minutes, and then decided to let myself in. If he weren't there, I would just wait for him.
As I opened the door, I hear it. Quiet at first, but as I moved through the house, searching for him, the sobbing got louder and louder.
I entered his bedroom, and he looked up.
He looked as panicked as a deer caught in headlights.
"Mark!" he exclaimed through the sobs. His hands instantly went up to his face, to hide it. I went over to him and sat down.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
Something like a muffled sob answered me as he laid his head on my shoulder. I hugged him tightly and didn't let go.
We stayed there for another half-hour. After he got calmed down enough, I asked him again, "What's wrong?"
"I don't know. I feel like a pregnant person, crying all of the time," he said. The comparison turned my lips up for a split second.
"It's Meg," I said, a bit of a question, but more as a statement. Again with the awed look.
"Yes, it is," he said quietly. "It's like every emotion I swallowed down when I tried to commit suicide has come up to the surface at the same time. I can't take it much longer, Mark. It's getting to be too much," he said, almost whispering at the end.
I don't know what to say, so I hug him. "It's going to be all right," I say, trying to assure myself as much as I'm trying to assure him.
~~*~~
Meg has asked to talk to me on the phone, so in about 30 minutes, I'm going to get to talk to her. I do miss her very much, and I hope she's getting better.
I try to read about the latest laproscopic procedure to do kidney transplants while waiting for her. I don't get past the first line.
*ring, ring* the phone says, shaking me from my reverie.
"Hello," I say.
"Dr. Sloan?" a voice on the other line asks. It's Meg.
"Yes, darling. It's me. How are you?"
"I'm doing a bit better, I guess. I get to go to the gym tomorrow," she said, sounding happy about that.
"Good, I'm glad."
"Yeah, me too. My cuts are healing up, but I'm still not going to wear shorts or short-sleeved shirts," she said, with a bit of a wistfulness.
"You don't have to if you don't want to."
"I know. I'm glad I got to talk to you. How's Jesse?" she asked. I hoped she wouldn't.
Should I tell her the truth, and let her worry, or should I just say that he's fine, hope she wouldn't notice my hesitation, and let her be mad at me when she gets back?
"He's been better. I guess with everything going on, he's remembering some things about his attempt," I said.
She seemed to accept this explanation.
"I hoped he wouldn't. I just hope he feels a lot better soon," she said, sounding a little sad. "Oh! They're talking about letting me out for the day on July 4th! It seems that I've progressed well," she said, her spirits picking back up.
"That's great. Maybe you can come out to the beach house and have a picnic." I suggested.
"That would be great."
I heard the sound of muffled talking in the background for a few seconds, and then Meg came back on. "Listen, Dr. Sloan, it's been great talking to you, but I have to get off. My time is starting to run out," she said.
"Ok, sweetie. It's been great talking to you! I hope to see you on the 4th," I said.
"Me, too! I'll talk to you later," she said as she hung up the phone.
I was pleased. She sounded happy, and like everything was going better. She was going to the gym, so she had gained the 5 pounds to earn the privilege. Plus, her cuts were healing up, and it seemed that maybe her spirit was healing up. If only I could say that about Jesse.
~~*~~
"Jesse, why don't you take the next couple of days off? You can say out at the beach house and rest up," I suggested to him after he worked almost 4 days in a row.
"I don't know, Mark. I like working," he said, with a yawn.
"But you're no good to your patients with you about to fall asleep on them," I said. He seemed to consider that.
"One day," he said.
"Three days," I said, trying to make him take more time off.
"Two days," he said, trying to compromise. That's what I wanted him to take off originally, so I accepted the offer.
"I'm off in about 30 minutes. I'll drive you by your apartment, and then to the beach house. You're too tired to drive yourself," I said.
He yawned as he nodded.
~~*~~
By the time I was ready to leave, he was sound asleep in the doctor's lounge. I quietly woke him, and somehow managed to get him out into my car. I remembered that he had some clothes out at the beach house, so I drove him straight there. Steve was home and helped me move Jesse into the guest bedroom.
He slept until 10 the next morning, looking a bit more refreshed.
"Good morning, sleeping beauty," Steve said as Jesse dragged out of bed. Jesse, confused, looked at his watch, up at Steve, and back at his watch.
"Shouldn't you be at work?" he asked.
"Nah. I took a couple of days off," Steve said.
"What about you, Mark? I know you were signed up for a double shift," he said.
"I arranged with Drs. Carson and Henry to cover my shifts for today," I said. He looked even more confused.
He backed up as he said, "Ok, who are you guys, and what have you done with Steve and Mark?"
"We are Steve and Mark," I said.
"B-b-b-but you guys almost never take days off," he said, backing up more, almost to the step. He reached the step, and fell down. His defenses gave way soon after.
"I never do, too, " he said, sadly. "I never do, because I'm too busy running away from, away from, well, from everything," he finally admitted. His chin quivered as he began crying for the second time I saw in two days. He buried his head in between his legs, wrapped his arms around himself, and began rocking and crying. "I feel like I'm 16 again," he said, through choked sobs.
