Okay, your break wasn't too long this time, but I hope you can forgive me!
;-) Well, I chose a very tricky subject for my new fanfic and I'm aware of
the fact that loads of different opinions do exist about it, so please let
me know what you think. Thanks for reading this and as always I'd
appreciate your reviews. I excuse for all grammatical mistakes and stuff,
thanks for your patience with me bloody stupid German! *g* As always great
thanks to Wuemsel for being my Brain in a double meaning, for Obst, for
Heeeeeeuuuulen (still love you for it, gurl) and for THE cream (Nimm den
Kuli wech!!).
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of DM, meaning mainly Dr Mark Sloan, Dr Jesse Travis, Lt. Steve Sloan and Dr Amanda Bentley and some other guys. This story was written for pleasure and not with the intention to make any profit with it (again, show me one person who'd pay for this!).
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Hippocratic Oath
I swear in the presence of the Almighty and before my family, my teachers and my peers that according to my ability and judgment I will keep this Oath and Stipulation. To reckon all who have taught me this art equally dear to me as my parents and in the same spirit and dedication to impart a knowledge of the art of medicine to others. I will continue with diligence to keep abreast of advances in medicine. I will treat without exception all who seek my ministrations, so long as the treatment of others is not compromised thereby, and I will seek the counsel of particularly skilled physicians where indicated for the benefit of my patient.
I will follow that method of treatment which according to my ability and judgment, I consider for the benefit of my patient and abstain from whatever is harmful or mischievous. I will neither prescribe nor administer a lethal dose of medicine to any patient even if asked nor counsel any such thing nor perform the utmost respect for every human life from fertilization to natural death and reject abortion that deliberately takes a unique human life. With purity, holiness and beneficence I will pass my life and practice my art. Except for the prudent correction of an imminent danger, I will neither treat any patient nor carry out any research on any human being without the valid informed consent of the subject or the appropriate legal protector thereof, understanding that research must have as its purpose the furtherance of the health of that individual. Into whatever patient setting I enter, I will go for the benefit of the sick and will abstain from every voluntary act of mischief or corruption and further from the seduction of any patient.
Whatever in connection with my professional practice or not in connection with it I may see or hear in the lives of my patients which ought not be spoken abroad, I will not divulge, reckoning that all such should be kept secret. While I continue to keep this Oath unviolated may it be granted to me to enjoy life and the practice of the art and science of medicine with the blessing of the Almighty and respected by my peers and society, but should I trespass and violate this Oath, may the reverse by my lot.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Minnesota, 1990
Dr Phillip Morton and his team hadn't found much time to relax on this day. They had been kept busy with the victims of a huge car crash coming in and everytime things had started to calm down slowly there had been new patients being brought in who needed the whole attention of the staff.
So it was understandable that even Dr Morton, head of the ER at the County Hospital of Minneapolis, as passionate and enthusiastic as he normally was sighed in pure exhaust when he finally came to a seat in the doctor's lounge where a cup of coffee had been awaiting him for hours. Of course, the coffee didn't taste anymore and Morton decided quickly that he would leave the filled mug for the next poor fellow who'd come in and find that Phillip had completely emptied the can with the fresh hot coffee.
The doctor had just sat about ten minutes, enjoying thinking of God, the world and nothing at the same time when Ewan Jones appeared in the doorframe, wearing a worried glance on his face that was about typical for the young pediatrican referring to a certain topic. "Phil...we need you in the ER..." Ewan knew that it was all he had to say to make Morrison understand.
Phillip sighed heavily. Only for a moment he had wanted to sit here and think of nothing. Not even these kinds of problems, although he hated himself for it. He couldn't just look away. Nevertheless, it was all he wanted to do sometimes. He got up, his gaze remaining on Jones who watched his friend with pitiful helplessness in his eyes.
"How bad?", he inquired, however, he felt that he knew the answer already.
Reading his mind, Ewan nodded. "Very bad...", he trailed off, fearing to see the awareness of himself being right in Morris' eyes. It was always the worst. Not the fear of seeing the sorrow. It was the fear of realization in those eyes that forced Jones to miss his friend's eyes so often lately.
Standing in front of the examination room, Phillip shortly hesitated, then sighed weakly and threw his friend a firm look. Or at least he hoped it was firm. Inside he was scared beyond believe. "I'm gonna take care of her, Ewan. Thanks..."
Ewan frowned, but he knew his friend. "You sure?" A slight nod and an sad smile was all he got, but yet, the pediatrican hadn't expect more. This was just too hard.
When Phillip entered the room and scrutinisized the young girl that lay on the stretcher, pale and apathic, he was shocked to discover once again that this girl had not much in common with the lifely, curious kid he had known for ages. Only one thing hadn't changed. He loved her more than anything else.
As her gaze drifted over to him and the two brown wet eyes recognized him, she reached out her hand or more likely tried to. I no time he was next to her, squeezing her little hand and stroking her hair carefully. She was maybe twelve years old, yet she seemed to have aged over the last month. Not only her face and head wore signs of the chemo therapy as well as her thin skinny body, but also her bright smile and her direct, engaging way had suffered.
They sat together in silence, simply enjoying every minute they could spend with each other, he still being able to be some kind of protection to her and she still feeling the comfort of his calming presence. Only after a while she lifted her glazed wet eyes at him again and Phil felt his heart breaking in two pieces when he heard a barely audible whisper:"Please, make it stop. Make it stop hurting!"
Too often Phillip had heard those words out of her mouth. Too often had he had to listen to that desperate beg and had promised -against better knowledge- that it would stop hurting soon. Right now, he had to admit that he had lied. For his own good. So often had he tried to tell himself that there was no way of stopping the pain, no earthly power that could prevent the things from happening, but he had never managed to do so completely. His knowledge had always been stronger. There was a power and it was in his hands.
Seeing those brown eyes, having seen them suffering for so long, had finally caused Morton coming to a fateful decision.
Taking a viole of calium chlorid that he filled into a syringe, Phillip never looked away from the girl. Her painful eyes indirectly directed him through filling the syringe, they were the reason and his reminder that prevented him from wasting any thoughts about the future. This mattered more to him.
Aiming at the vein with the needle, injecting the KCl, all this happened as though it was in a dream. The only thing that Morrison should be able to remember later were the words he spoke in calming confidence. "Don't worry, honey, it will stop hurting. I promise it will...I love you, honey!"
When she heard that she smiled. "I love you, too...daddy..." Then she closed her eyes and seconds later the heart monitor started beeping violently before the curve settled in a never-ending beep and total flatline. Gone. She was gone.
"Hey, Dr Morton I thought you might need some hel...", the young intern that had just entered the room stopped dead in the doorway, a loudless 'Oh my God' replaying on his lips. Phil whirled around and threw a glance to his intern who seemed to be completely frozen where he was, wearing typical unexperienced horror in his big blue eyes.
Morton still held the viole with the calium chlorid in his hands, the syringe as well. Strangely it was only now that he snapped out of his trance. He had been knowing what he was doing all the time, but until now it had all been apart from this world, from the real life. He looked at the instruments in his hands as if he would be seeing them for the very first time.
Jesse couldn't do anything. At first he had had the intention to help the resident, when he had seen the flatline and had only wanted bring that girl back to live but by the same second he had noticed the little bottle in Phil's hands. And that was the moment that something inside him had clicked. The way Phil looked into the space and now looked at him and through him at the same time, let Jesse sense that what he was thinking was right. "Wha...", he started and stopped as soon as he noticed that he didn't even know what he should say. "Phil...what...", he stammered again, looking at his supervisor, pleadingly. He wanted Phil to say somthing. That he was misinterpreting that scene, that the girl on the examination table had died of natural causes, that nothing of what he believed -that the the calium chlorid and the syringe in Morris' hand had anything to do with it- was true.
The young intern's heart raced the longer he waited for an answer, a word from the man he had always admired so much for his capability, for his sense of humor, for his honesty. A word that would have declared everything as a misunderstanding. But nothing like that came.
Confusion and fear evident in his eyes, Jesse remained at the door, not sure if there had ages or just seconds passed since he had last moved.
Phillip sighed. He really hadn't wanted Jesse to witness that. He just hadn't been thinking of him. Normally no one dared to disturb when he was alone with his daughter, the staff of the ER had got used to that, but Jesse hadn't been here long enough to know that. And now that young man had stumbled into a situation that he seemed to understand immediatly which was on the one hand a clear and strong proof for his sharp mind, on the other hand it also confronted him with a factor of medicine that even the sharpest mind wouldn't have been able to deal with. He was still too young, Phil thought and closed his eyes for a moment. He had to do something. He couldn't leave it like this. That would have destroyed him and his career -though Phil was really shocked to discover that he was thinking of his own future as a doctor right now- and also he believed that it would destroy some part of his intern's faith in medicine. And that was certainly of no good for such a talented boy like Jesse was. "I see you in the lounge in ten minutes!", Phillip said as firmly as he could and was about as astonished as Jesse himself as he saw his intern nodding obediently.
Phillip felt like walking somewhere between heaven and earth when he headed for the lounge exactly nine minutes after the event had occured in the examination room. He had been busy with declaring the time of death and getting hugged and pitied by the nurses in charge. Their sympathies were meant nicely, however, right now he didn't give a damn on them. The past fifteen minutes had been enough to change his life. Forever. After years or work, of love, of joy and sadness, his world had been turned around within one second. In the second when he had made a decision of which he was sure he would never regret it. Not matter what would happen to him, no matter how hard they would try to make him believe what he had done was wrong, he knew that he would never waste a thought of what would have been if he hadn't injected her the calium chlorid. As much as he wanted to regret it, he didn't.
Nevertheless, Morton sensed that he had failed a at certain other point once he had thrown a glance through the half-opened door of the doctor's lounge. A young man sat there on a screwed down chair, holding a mug in his hand as though it was the last rock that prevented him from falling of a huge cliff.
Jesse felt about as empty as the mug that he was nearly jamming between his fingers. Furiosity crawled through his body, but right now he was too confused and had to handle too many mixed feelings at the same time. There were so many questions he wanted to ask the doctor and not a single one would cross his lips. When Phillip entered the room, the intern looked up, wearing a cold look in his eyes. Jesse had never thought he would be able to produce such an icy glare, neither he had awaited seeing this glare reflected by calm serious looks.
Morton sighed as though he was exhausted, which wasn't only acted, but partly true since the past fifteen minutes had taken more of his strength than anything else in his life had ever done. Sitting down across the table, he took his mug with the again gone-cold coffee and sipped.
That way both of them remained there for ages, none of them daring to speak. Jesse was shocked to discover that he wasn't just angry with the displaced calmness in Morton's expressions, mostly, as the nervous feeling in his stomach told him, he was scared of his supervisor. Scared beyond believe. If he had looked up and met Phillip's eyes, he probably would have noticed the same fear in those. Also Phillip was scared, but as his young protègè he hid that feeling in the distracted absence of mind he replayed. "You killed her!", someone suddenly whispered, with a voice that was so faint that Phillip at first guessed that he had only imagined it.
Only at the second "You killed her!" he noticed Jesse's lips were moving. Jesse heard himself saying that, yet, he didn't understand it. His voice just didn't match the way he felt, he was angry, confused, scared, but his tone only expressed plain surprise, seemingly neutral astonishment. Then he realized that his head suddenly jerked up, subconsciously he wanted his eyes to give Morton an idea of what he actually wanted to tell him after his voice had failed.
And again Morton did something Jesse neither expected nor appreciated. He looked at him. Jesse had wanted him to miss his eyes in order to hide the shame from him, the young intern, but there was no shame. When Phillip slowly nodded his head to acknowledge Jesse's realization, there was sadness in his eyes, nothing but deep honest sadness.
That deliberate movement without any reluctance forced Jesse's rage to become bigger than his fear and he all of sudden jumped up. "Damnit! What kind of a man are you? How can you just sit there like this and do....nothing?!", he cried out, madly.
Phillip considered for a moment what to do. He could shout at Jesse, scare him even more than he probably was, but that was certainly not the way. Jesse should understand it. That was the last thing Phillip wanted to teach him. That there was still a difference between acceptance and understanding and if you couldn't give the first, the second was the least to give then.
He had no choice, he had to provoke him. Hiding the quivering in his tone, he asked:"Do you remember what I told you about not becoming too emotional about things that happen to you here? Can you recall that..."
Jesse's eyes narrowed and cynical remark was the first one to come to his mind and he didn't see a reason why he shouldn't speak it out. "What about you told me about not doing harm to patients? Not abusing my power? Does that ring any bell? What about that?", he hissed, full of emotion, not caring what that so called doctor had to say about it.
"I told you becoming too emotional would take your clear look at the facts...", Phillip continued as though lecturing a kid. "...and your understanding..." He lifted his gaze at Jesse. piercing him with a watchful look. "Do you understand now?", he asked insistingly.
"Oh yeah, I do understand!", Jesse yelled, his fingers clenched, his knuckles white. "I do understand that you killed the little girl, I do understand that you don't seem to give a damn on your goddamn rules yourself, I...", he trailed off, searching for words. He blushed. The more he had shouted the more he had noticed that he didn't understand it at all. He didn't understand how Phillip could do something like that. He didn't understand why anyone would do something like that. Kill for purpose. Confusion settled on his face. No, he really didn't understand.
Seeing, slightly triumphingly, that he had got Jesse where he had wanted to have him, Phillip now opened his mouth to explain everthing. To make him understand. "The girl that died in there was...my daughter, Carla. She had cancer....final stage..." He watched how Jesse's widened in shock a the revealed truth. He hesitated to speak on and the words only reluctantly left his mouth. "And I didn't kill her because I wanted to abuse my power or anything...I killed her because I loved her..." He listened to his own words in displeasure, feeling awkward. Could you really kill someone because you loved him? Or was it only a selfish desire of playing God?
Jesse still stood from where he had yelled at Phillip, bowing his head, if only almost unrecognizable. Where there had been a clear black-white- picture of ethic for him before, since what Phillip had done was certainly abominable, ethic was for the very first time showing its grey nuances.
The silence between them gained for ages but without Jesse himself noticing it, his look had softened a bit.
Phillip felt that it was his turn to say something. "Now you have all the facts", he stated, tonelessly. Then he lifted his eyes on Jesse for a very last insisting look. That was all he needed to know that Jesse had understood. He was a smart boy, Morton had known that before. "Now you can make your choice!"
At those words, Jesse's blood started pounding in his ears. He hadn't even thought of it before but indeed Morton's future was laying in his hands. If he reported him to the hospital board, they would surely fire him and withdraw his license to practise medicine, maybe there would even charges being pressed. There was no syringe, no poison. There was no need of any medical instrument to turn someone's life around. And yet a same decisive power was put into Jesse's hands now and it didn't feel good to him. Just huge and scaring.
Not able to reply anything, he only nodded again, halfly heading to the door already. When he had finally reached it, he stopped for a second though, casting Morton a nearly sympathesising glance and brought himself to put into words one of the mixed up emotions that he was certain about. "I'm sorry about your daughter. Really."
When Morton murmured a weak "Thanks", and Jesse left, running away, aimlessly.
Phillip stayed, feeling all energy drained from his body within one second. His strength had been needed and used for this last lecture. He didn't know what would come next, right now he wasn't interested at all. Right now he only sat here, waiting patiently for the tears to come finally. He didn't need to wait too long.
To Be Continued...
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of DM, meaning mainly Dr Mark Sloan, Dr Jesse Travis, Lt. Steve Sloan and Dr Amanda Bentley and some other guys. This story was written for pleasure and not with the intention to make any profit with it (again, show me one person who'd pay for this!).
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Hippocratic Oath
I swear in the presence of the Almighty and before my family, my teachers and my peers that according to my ability and judgment I will keep this Oath and Stipulation. To reckon all who have taught me this art equally dear to me as my parents and in the same spirit and dedication to impart a knowledge of the art of medicine to others. I will continue with diligence to keep abreast of advances in medicine. I will treat without exception all who seek my ministrations, so long as the treatment of others is not compromised thereby, and I will seek the counsel of particularly skilled physicians where indicated for the benefit of my patient.
I will follow that method of treatment which according to my ability and judgment, I consider for the benefit of my patient and abstain from whatever is harmful or mischievous. I will neither prescribe nor administer a lethal dose of medicine to any patient even if asked nor counsel any such thing nor perform the utmost respect for every human life from fertilization to natural death and reject abortion that deliberately takes a unique human life. With purity, holiness and beneficence I will pass my life and practice my art. Except for the prudent correction of an imminent danger, I will neither treat any patient nor carry out any research on any human being without the valid informed consent of the subject or the appropriate legal protector thereof, understanding that research must have as its purpose the furtherance of the health of that individual. Into whatever patient setting I enter, I will go for the benefit of the sick and will abstain from every voluntary act of mischief or corruption and further from the seduction of any patient.
Whatever in connection with my professional practice or not in connection with it I may see or hear in the lives of my patients which ought not be spoken abroad, I will not divulge, reckoning that all such should be kept secret. While I continue to keep this Oath unviolated may it be granted to me to enjoy life and the practice of the art and science of medicine with the blessing of the Almighty and respected by my peers and society, but should I trespass and violate this Oath, may the reverse by my lot.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Minnesota, 1990
Dr Phillip Morton and his team hadn't found much time to relax on this day. They had been kept busy with the victims of a huge car crash coming in and everytime things had started to calm down slowly there had been new patients being brought in who needed the whole attention of the staff.
So it was understandable that even Dr Morton, head of the ER at the County Hospital of Minneapolis, as passionate and enthusiastic as he normally was sighed in pure exhaust when he finally came to a seat in the doctor's lounge where a cup of coffee had been awaiting him for hours. Of course, the coffee didn't taste anymore and Morton decided quickly that he would leave the filled mug for the next poor fellow who'd come in and find that Phillip had completely emptied the can with the fresh hot coffee.
The doctor had just sat about ten minutes, enjoying thinking of God, the world and nothing at the same time when Ewan Jones appeared in the doorframe, wearing a worried glance on his face that was about typical for the young pediatrican referring to a certain topic. "Phil...we need you in the ER..." Ewan knew that it was all he had to say to make Morrison understand.
Phillip sighed heavily. Only for a moment he had wanted to sit here and think of nothing. Not even these kinds of problems, although he hated himself for it. He couldn't just look away. Nevertheless, it was all he wanted to do sometimes. He got up, his gaze remaining on Jones who watched his friend with pitiful helplessness in his eyes.
"How bad?", he inquired, however, he felt that he knew the answer already.
Reading his mind, Ewan nodded. "Very bad...", he trailed off, fearing to see the awareness of himself being right in Morris' eyes. It was always the worst. Not the fear of seeing the sorrow. It was the fear of realization in those eyes that forced Jones to miss his friend's eyes so often lately.
Standing in front of the examination room, Phillip shortly hesitated, then sighed weakly and threw his friend a firm look. Or at least he hoped it was firm. Inside he was scared beyond believe. "I'm gonna take care of her, Ewan. Thanks..."
Ewan frowned, but he knew his friend. "You sure?" A slight nod and an sad smile was all he got, but yet, the pediatrican hadn't expect more. This was just too hard.
When Phillip entered the room and scrutinisized the young girl that lay on the stretcher, pale and apathic, he was shocked to discover once again that this girl had not much in common with the lifely, curious kid he had known for ages. Only one thing hadn't changed. He loved her more than anything else.
As her gaze drifted over to him and the two brown wet eyes recognized him, she reached out her hand or more likely tried to. I no time he was next to her, squeezing her little hand and stroking her hair carefully. She was maybe twelve years old, yet she seemed to have aged over the last month. Not only her face and head wore signs of the chemo therapy as well as her thin skinny body, but also her bright smile and her direct, engaging way had suffered.
They sat together in silence, simply enjoying every minute they could spend with each other, he still being able to be some kind of protection to her and she still feeling the comfort of his calming presence. Only after a while she lifted her glazed wet eyes at him again and Phil felt his heart breaking in two pieces when he heard a barely audible whisper:"Please, make it stop. Make it stop hurting!"
Too often Phillip had heard those words out of her mouth. Too often had he had to listen to that desperate beg and had promised -against better knowledge- that it would stop hurting soon. Right now, he had to admit that he had lied. For his own good. So often had he tried to tell himself that there was no way of stopping the pain, no earthly power that could prevent the things from happening, but he had never managed to do so completely. His knowledge had always been stronger. There was a power and it was in his hands.
Seeing those brown eyes, having seen them suffering for so long, had finally caused Morton coming to a fateful decision.
Taking a viole of calium chlorid that he filled into a syringe, Phillip never looked away from the girl. Her painful eyes indirectly directed him through filling the syringe, they were the reason and his reminder that prevented him from wasting any thoughts about the future. This mattered more to him.
Aiming at the vein with the needle, injecting the KCl, all this happened as though it was in a dream. The only thing that Morrison should be able to remember later were the words he spoke in calming confidence. "Don't worry, honey, it will stop hurting. I promise it will...I love you, honey!"
When she heard that she smiled. "I love you, too...daddy..." Then she closed her eyes and seconds later the heart monitor started beeping violently before the curve settled in a never-ending beep and total flatline. Gone. She was gone.
"Hey, Dr Morton I thought you might need some hel...", the young intern that had just entered the room stopped dead in the doorway, a loudless 'Oh my God' replaying on his lips. Phil whirled around and threw a glance to his intern who seemed to be completely frozen where he was, wearing typical unexperienced horror in his big blue eyes.
Morton still held the viole with the calium chlorid in his hands, the syringe as well. Strangely it was only now that he snapped out of his trance. He had been knowing what he was doing all the time, but until now it had all been apart from this world, from the real life. He looked at the instruments in his hands as if he would be seeing them for the very first time.
Jesse couldn't do anything. At first he had had the intention to help the resident, when he had seen the flatline and had only wanted bring that girl back to live but by the same second he had noticed the little bottle in Phil's hands. And that was the moment that something inside him had clicked. The way Phil looked into the space and now looked at him and through him at the same time, let Jesse sense that what he was thinking was right. "Wha...", he started and stopped as soon as he noticed that he didn't even know what he should say. "Phil...what...", he stammered again, looking at his supervisor, pleadingly. He wanted Phil to say somthing. That he was misinterpreting that scene, that the girl on the examination table had died of natural causes, that nothing of what he believed -that the the calium chlorid and the syringe in Morris' hand had anything to do with it- was true.
The young intern's heart raced the longer he waited for an answer, a word from the man he had always admired so much for his capability, for his sense of humor, for his honesty. A word that would have declared everything as a misunderstanding. But nothing like that came.
Confusion and fear evident in his eyes, Jesse remained at the door, not sure if there had ages or just seconds passed since he had last moved.
Phillip sighed. He really hadn't wanted Jesse to witness that. He just hadn't been thinking of him. Normally no one dared to disturb when he was alone with his daughter, the staff of the ER had got used to that, but Jesse hadn't been here long enough to know that. And now that young man had stumbled into a situation that he seemed to understand immediatly which was on the one hand a clear and strong proof for his sharp mind, on the other hand it also confronted him with a factor of medicine that even the sharpest mind wouldn't have been able to deal with. He was still too young, Phil thought and closed his eyes for a moment. He had to do something. He couldn't leave it like this. That would have destroyed him and his career -though Phil was really shocked to discover that he was thinking of his own future as a doctor right now- and also he believed that it would destroy some part of his intern's faith in medicine. And that was certainly of no good for such a talented boy like Jesse was. "I see you in the lounge in ten minutes!", Phillip said as firmly as he could and was about as astonished as Jesse himself as he saw his intern nodding obediently.
Phillip felt like walking somewhere between heaven and earth when he headed for the lounge exactly nine minutes after the event had occured in the examination room. He had been busy with declaring the time of death and getting hugged and pitied by the nurses in charge. Their sympathies were meant nicely, however, right now he didn't give a damn on them. The past fifteen minutes had been enough to change his life. Forever. After years or work, of love, of joy and sadness, his world had been turned around within one second. In the second when he had made a decision of which he was sure he would never regret it. Not matter what would happen to him, no matter how hard they would try to make him believe what he had done was wrong, he knew that he would never waste a thought of what would have been if he hadn't injected her the calium chlorid. As much as he wanted to regret it, he didn't.
Nevertheless, Morton sensed that he had failed a at certain other point once he had thrown a glance through the half-opened door of the doctor's lounge. A young man sat there on a screwed down chair, holding a mug in his hand as though it was the last rock that prevented him from falling of a huge cliff.
Jesse felt about as empty as the mug that he was nearly jamming between his fingers. Furiosity crawled through his body, but right now he was too confused and had to handle too many mixed feelings at the same time. There were so many questions he wanted to ask the doctor and not a single one would cross his lips. When Phillip entered the room, the intern looked up, wearing a cold look in his eyes. Jesse had never thought he would be able to produce such an icy glare, neither he had awaited seeing this glare reflected by calm serious looks.
Morton sighed as though he was exhausted, which wasn't only acted, but partly true since the past fifteen minutes had taken more of his strength than anything else in his life had ever done. Sitting down across the table, he took his mug with the again gone-cold coffee and sipped.
That way both of them remained there for ages, none of them daring to speak. Jesse was shocked to discover that he wasn't just angry with the displaced calmness in Morton's expressions, mostly, as the nervous feeling in his stomach told him, he was scared of his supervisor. Scared beyond believe. If he had looked up and met Phillip's eyes, he probably would have noticed the same fear in those. Also Phillip was scared, but as his young protègè he hid that feeling in the distracted absence of mind he replayed. "You killed her!", someone suddenly whispered, with a voice that was so faint that Phillip at first guessed that he had only imagined it.
Only at the second "You killed her!" he noticed Jesse's lips were moving. Jesse heard himself saying that, yet, he didn't understand it. His voice just didn't match the way he felt, he was angry, confused, scared, but his tone only expressed plain surprise, seemingly neutral astonishment. Then he realized that his head suddenly jerked up, subconsciously he wanted his eyes to give Morton an idea of what he actually wanted to tell him after his voice had failed.
And again Morton did something Jesse neither expected nor appreciated. He looked at him. Jesse had wanted him to miss his eyes in order to hide the shame from him, the young intern, but there was no shame. When Phillip slowly nodded his head to acknowledge Jesse's realization, there was sadness in his eyes, nothing but deep honest sadness.
That deliberate movement without any reluctance forced Jesse's rage to become bigger than his fear and he all of sudden jumped up. "Damnit! What kind of a man are you? How can you just sit there like this and do....nothing?!", he cried out, madly.
Phillip considered for a moment what to do. He could shout at Jesse, scare him even more than he probably was, but that was certainly not the way. Jesse should understand it. That was the last thing Phillip wanted to teach him. That there was still a difference between acceptance and understanding and if you couldn't give the first, the second was the least to give then.
He had no choice, he had to provoke him. Hiding the quivering in his tone, he asked:"Do you remember what I told you about not becoming too emotional about things that happen to you here? Can you recall that..."
Jesse's eyes narrowed and cynical remark was the first one to come to his mind and he didn't see a reason why he shouldn't speak it out. "What about you told me about not doing harm to patients? Not abusing my power? Does that ring any bell? What about that?", he hissed, full of emotion, not caring what that so called doctor had to say about it.
"I told you becoming too emotional would take your clear look at the facts...", Phillip continued as though lecturing a kid. "...and your understanding..." He lifted his gaze at Jesse. piercing him with a watchful look. "Do you understand now?", he asked insistingly.
"Oh yeah, I do understand!", Jesse yelled, his fingers clenched, his knuckles white. "I do understand that you killed the little girl, I do understand that you don't seem to give a damn on your goddamn rules yourself, I...", he trailed off, searching for words. He blushed. The more he had shouted the more he had noticed that he didn't understand it at all. He didn't understand how Phillip could do something like that. He didn't understand why anyone would do something like that. Kill for purpose. Confusion settled on his face. No, he really didn't understand.
Seeing, slightly triumphingly, that he had got Jesse where he had wanted to have him, Phillip now opened his mouth to explain everthing. To make him understand. "The girl that died in there was...my daughter, Carla. She had cancer....final stage..." He watched how Jesse's widened in shock a the revealed truth. He hesitated to speak on and the words only reluctantly left his mouth. "And I didn't kill her because I wanted to abuse my power or anything...I killed her because I loved her..." He listened to his own words in displeasure, feeling awkward. Could you really kill someone because you loved him? Or was it only a selfish desire of playing God?
Jesse still stood from where he had yelled at Phillip, bowing his head, if only almost unrecognizable. Where there had been a clear black-white- picture of ethic for him before, since what Phillip had done was certainly abominable, ethic was for the very first time showing its grey nuances.
The silence between them gained for ages but without Jesse himself noticing it, his look had softened a bit.
Phillip felt that it was his turn to say something. "Now you have all the facts", he stated, tonelessly. Then he lifted his eyes on Jesse for a very last insisting look. That was all he needed to know that Jesse had understood. He was a smart boy, Morton had known that before. "Now you can make your choice!"
At those words, Jesse's blood started pounding in his ears. He hadn't even thought of it before but indeed Morton's future was laying in his hands. If he reported him to the hospital board, they would surely fire him and withdraw his license to practise medicine, maybe there would even charges being pressed. There was no syringe, no poison. There was no need of any medical instrument to turn someone's life around. And yet a same decisive power was put into Jesse's hands now and it didn't feel good to him. Just huge and scaring.
Not able to reply anything, he only nodded again, halfly heading to the door already. When he had finally reached it, he stopped for a second though, casting Morton a nearly sympathesising glance and brought himself to put into words one of the mixed up emotions that he was certain about. "I'm sorry about your daughter. Really."
When Morton murmured a weak "Thanks", and Jesse left, running away, aimlessly.
Phillip stayed, feeling all energy drained from his body within one second. His strength had been needed and used for this last lecture. He didn't know what would come next, right now he wasn't interested at all. Right now he only sat here, waiting patiently for the tears to come finally. He didn't need to wait too long.
To Be Continued...