"What the fuck did you do?"

"What are you talking about?" Caitlin looked so furious that Chuck found himself stepping backwards.

"What the fuck did you say to him? What did you do to him?"

Oh shit. Steven.

"Caitlin, calm down. Who do you mean?" He knew exactly who--and what--she meant, but playing dumb would buy him a little more time.

"Steve tried to kill himself because of you!" Caitlin screamed, tears appearing at the corners of her eyes.

"Oh my God, what happened?" Chuck moved to comfort her, but she jerked away.

"He drove his car into a bridge support." Her voice softened and she looked down at the floor. " He...the doctors...he's not going to make it, Chuck."

She wiped the tears from her cheek, then turned back to Chuck. "And it's all your fault! What the fuck did you do?"

"I didn't do anything!" He knew he sounded defensive, but he didn't know what else to say to her. Nothing he could say would possibly be what she wanted to hear.

"Bullshit! David said that Steve called him in hysterics after you threw him out. When he got here, Steve was already gone. You did this, Chuck. It's all your fault." She turned on her heel and stomped out the door.

"Caitlin, wait!"

She stopped, but didn't face him. "What?"

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going back to the hospital. Where else would I go?"

"I want to go with you." Chuck wasn't even sure where that came from.

"No, Chuck. You've done enough."

"I mean it. I'm coming with you."

She sighed. "Fine. Whatever."

****

The ride to Georgetown was one of the longest of Chuck's life. He couldn't imagine what it felt like to Caitlin. He had to admit, she had a point. Steve had flat out told him that this was going to happen, but he hadn't listened. No, he had listened, he just hadn't believed it. It really was all his fault, and if Steven Glass died he didn't think he'd ever forgive either of them.

Caitlin hadn't even looked at him since the office. If Steve died, he had a feeling she would never look at him again. None of them would. He would be finished at the Republic, that's for sure.

He had to say something, though. The silence was deadly. "Did they call his parents?"

"They'll be here in the morning," Caitlin replied flatly. "David and Amy are there now."

Amy. Oh, shit. Amy was fragile normally; this had to be devastating. He was definitely finished at the Republic. Amy wouldn't look at him either. And David looked at Steve like a big brother. They would all blame him, and why shouldn't they? He had taken Steve away from them. Wasn't it all his fault? If he had been any sort of decent human being, wouldn't he have taken Steve seriously? He should have taken him to the airport and not left until Steve was safely on the plain. How much clearer could he have been? Should he have come right out and said, "Chuck, if you leave me I will kill myself?" He shouldn't have had to. Chuck should have seen it coming. If he hadn't been so wrapped up in his own pain...

"We're here."

****

He looked like death.

He was so pale, so still. Beneath the numerous angry cuts and gashes, he was paler than any human being should ever be. He could understand why they thought he wouldn't live. He didn't seem like he was living now.

Amy was sobbing in a chair near the door. David was trying to calm her but looked like he would join her any minute. His eyes were red-rimmed and swollen, and Chuck guessed that he was as angry at himself as Chuck was, maybe more. He probably felt nearly as responsible. It was his choice to tell Chuck that did Steven in. David thought he could trust Chuck--he had gone to him first, after all--and look what happened. David would never trust him again. None of them would. He was finished.

David glared at Chuck, but said nothing. His eyes said it all--why is *he* here? Chuck shrugged unconsciously in reply. He turned instead to address Amy. "How is he?"

"How do you think?" she snapped. David put his hand on her shoulder. She never would have allowed Chuck to do that.

"Can I have a moment alone with him?" asked Chuck. He didn't know why he felt he needed their permission.

"Why? Do you want to finish him off?" Caitlin retorted angrily.

Amy gasped. David looked like someone had just fired a shotgun in the near-silent room. Chuck blushed and turned away from the stunned gazes. "No, I just--"

David stood up and took Caitlin's arm. "Come on," he said softly, pulling her toward the door. Amy followed slowly, never taking her eyes off of Steve. "We'll be right outside," David promised. He closed the door quietly.

"Steve, I'm so sorry," Chuck whispered, not wanting to break the almost funereal silence. It was as though he were afraid the sound of his voice would kill the kid, even though he knew it was silly.

"I was being selfish, and I'm sorry. I couldn't get outside my own problems long enough to consider yours. I was so wrapped up in what would happen to the magazine that I never stopped to think about what would happen to you, even though you basically spelled it out for me. I'll never forgive myself for that, especially if you die, so don't die, all right?" He took a deep, shuddering breath and realized that tears were dripping down his face unheeded. He rubbed them away quickly and went on, the words tumbling out like water over falls. "God, I'm so stupid. I mean, you couldn't have been any more clear and I should have listened, I really don't know why I didn't. I guess I just didn't want to face it, any of it. I just wanted to go back to the time when everything was so simple and uncomplicated. I failed, Steve. I failed everything--the magazine, the staff, but especially you. You have to wake up, Steve, so I can tell you this in person. I'll shout it from the rooftops if I have to, just wake up, damn it! Wake up! Please! There's too many people here who care about you. Don't let them down. You're stronger than this. You're better than this. I know you are. You deserve better than all this shit, you really do. So come on, Steve. You've been fighting so hard. Don't stop now."

Chuck heard a sound behind him and turned. Caitlin and Amy were at the door. "We have to go now."

As if in response, one of the monitors started shrieking. "Oh God, oh God!" wailed Amy.

Chuck shoved past her into the hallway. "Somebody help!" he shouted.

A nurse ran down and looked into the room. She hit the intercom button. "Code blue, code blue, room 1216," she announced calmly. Quickly a flurry of doctors and nurses arrived and pushed the four reporters aside.

It took only four minutes to determine that there was nothing the doctors could do, but to Chuck it felt like four hours.

****

"I know you think this is all my fault, and you know what? You're right. It's all my fault, and I'm so sorry. I'm sorry."