Part Twelve

Jesse cast an eye once more over the monitors. "Everything looks pretty good here - if these stay stable for another hour, I'll take him into surgery and do a real job on that hole in his side instead of that jury-rigging I've got in there now. I'd say we're on an upswing." Mark still didn't respond and Jesse looked again at Amanda, raising his brows.

Amanda cleared her throat, wondering what on earth to say but unable to bear the uncomfortable silence any longer. "Um - Jesse, you know Steve took on those two robbers while he had the flu."

Jesse laughed, flipping open Steve's chart and penning in the new vitals and the time. "Yeah. Sounds about right."

Mark turned from the window with a frown and Amanda added hastily, "Jesse, Mark's really upset about it."

Jesse looked a little surprised, but continued his notes without looking up. "About what?"

"That my son took it upon himself to protect our possessions instead of his own life," Mark put in a little stiffly.

Jesse shrugged. "Yeah. Well. That's what he does, right? Upholds the law and all?"

"He was NOT on duty. He was sick. Even cops get a day off."

"Not really." Jesse finished updating the chart and looked up, surprised at the silence that followed his remark. "Come on, Mark - you're kidding, right?" Mark's expression told him very clearly that he was not and he returned his pen to his pocket, trying to read his friend's face. "Oh, come on - are you ever really off duty? It's the same thing."

Mark's frown deepened. "It's not."

"Of course it is," Jesse insisted. "Look, are you really telling me that if you had the flu or worse, and somebody needed medical attention, that you would just call for help and wait for it to arrive and not take action yourself? That's crazy. You know you wouldn't."

"I - " Mark paused. "We're talking about the difference between offering comfort and medical attention and saving inanimate objects. It's not the same thing."

"You don't know that," Jesse insisted. "You don't know - I mean - who's that neighbor of yours next door - the old lady?"

"Mrs. Tellman? Jesse, what on earth - ?"

"Right. Mrs. Tellman. She's home during the day right? Well, who's to say that these guys weren't working their way down the beach and couldn't have walked in on her next? They roughed up Steve pretty good, and he's trained to take care of himself - what do you think they might have done to her? She can't take care of herself. You're saying that you want Steve to just protect his own skin and let them go ahead and everybody else can just take their chances?"

"No - of course not - I - " Mark gestured feebly. "He could have dialed 911 - "

"If he was anywhere near a phone, and you don't know that he was. You don't really know what happened at all. He did what he does - he saw a crime and he tried to stop it - it's what he's trained to do. You really want him to try and shut down those instincts? The same instincts that keep him alive every day? You can't mean that, Mark."

"Of course I don't - that's not what I mean and you know it!"

"No?" Jesse stared at him. "Then maybe you need to get clear on just what you do mean. Sure, he takes a lot of chances - he takes that protect and serve thing real seriously - wonder where he learned that? I remember you sticking your neck out more than a couple of times…remember the time you injected yourself with that infectious plague serum to force a government agency to act? Sure, you were PRETTY sure you could get the antidote in time - just as Steve was probably PRETTY sure he could take those guys. Sometimes you guess wrong. You could have too. Or maybe you're saying it's okay for him to have to sweat it out when you do it, it's just not okay when the shoe is on the other foot."

"JESSE!" Amanda hissed, shocked. Mark looked equally shocked.

Jesse held up his hands. "Okay. I'm sorry, Mark - I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. I just - I don't think you should blame him for doing what you taught him. What the Police Academy enforced. I can't believe you really want him to be any different from who he is."

Mark turned his eyes to his son's face, the pain lines somewhat softened now, the planes of his face pale and composed in repose. He sighed heavily. "I don't…" he managed softly at last. "I don't want him to be different, God knows, I just want him to be..." tears sprang to his eyes. "…safe."

Jesse nodded. "Yeah. I want that too. But - " he shrugged again. "He is who he is, Mark. And in part, he is what you made him, by example if nothing else."

Mark opened his mouth to respond, but a soft cough interrupted him. He saw Steve turn his head slightly, try to lift one hand, then let it drop tiredly. Instinctively, Mark reached out and rested his hand on top of it. "Steve?"

Steve coughed again, without opening his eyes. "What's all…the yelling…? Is everything…?"

"Everything's all right, buddy." Jesse stood on his other side and patted his shoulder. "Your Dad and I were having a little debate and you're right - we shouldn't have been having it in here when you're trying to catch some shuteye. Hey, guess what? You're looking a lot better here, and I'm hoping to take you for a little trip to surgery soon. How's that sound?" Steve groaned and Jesse smiled. "Yeah. I knew you'd be pleased. Why don't you grab a couple more winks first?"

Steve pried his lids apart with some effort and blinked slowly at him, then turned his head, searching. He saw his father and met his eyes, looking a question. Mark rested a hand lightly on his forehead. "Jesse's right, son," he soothed mildly. "You should be getting rest. I'm sorry we woke you. Everything's all right. Just go back to sleep." Steve held his eyes for another second and he repeated, with more conviction, "Everything's fine." Steve's lids sank slowly shut and stayed shut this time.