Have You Forgotten?
Lane A. Farren

PG-13: Involves self-destructive decisions.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters, nor am I affiliated with CBS, Viacom or Pax TV. The title of this story is taken from the song "Have You Forgotten (How to Love Yourself?)" by the Red House Painters.
Summary: Certain events cause Dr. Jesse Travis to make some self- destructive personal decisions.
Feedback: Of course you are all entitled to your personal opinions and feelings on this story. Constructive criticism is always welcome.
Author's Note: I apologize if any of the information used in this story is incorrect. Please let me know if it is so I can fix it. Thanks. Also, a single quotation mark ( ' ) indicates a character's thought. Sorry about the double spacing too, I'm not trying to make space or anything, but it seems that's the only way to get my computer to load the paragraph format correctly. Sorry again. Also, did my best to correct any spelling or grammar mistakes. Enjoy!

Chapter One – Disappointment

Dr. Jesse Travis, a surgeon at Community General Hospital sighed as the snap of surgical gloves coming off his hands brought him back to reality. His assisting nurse, Ms. Maxwell, turned off the ECG monitor and looked at him.

"Sorry, Dr. Travis, but we lost her," she said quietly. Mary Fleming, a car accident victim brought in twenty minutes earlier, lay as pale as the white operating table beneath her. Jesse sighed again. Despite his desperate efforts, he had lost her; the second person this week.

"Would you like me to inform her family? They've just arrived a few moments ago," Nurse Maxwell interrupted Jesse from his thoughts.

"Oh... no. No, no. I'll do it. Thanks. Could you just make sure you clean up for me?"

"Sure."

"Thanks."

Jesse exited the double doors and made his way down toward the ER waiting room. The most painful part was not so much losing the patient, but having to inform friends and loved ones.

As he entered the room he spotted a man, oh, about thirty-five years old; his dusty brown hair falling on his head, anxious gray eyes staring into nothing. In his lap sat a little girl, about five or six years old, he guessed. She had curly blonde hair and green eyes, just as Mary had. She was the first to spot Jesse.

"Daddy, daddy," she shook her father's shoulder. He almost immediately snapped out of his trance, looking up at Jesse. He gently placed his little girl on the floor.

"You stay here, sweetheart, let me go and talk to the nice doctor," he said.

"Mommy! I want mommy! Where is she, dad?" She looked up at her father, puzzled and even somewhat frightened.

"I know, Sara," he responded, "I know. Please go back over there and play. I need to talk to the doctor alone. Then we'll go see mommy."

She ignored him and set her innocent gaze upon Jesse.

"Are you gonna give me a shot? Aww man, please don't, mister! I really hate them. They hurt so much."

Jesse smiled wistfully, 'some things will always hurt more...' he mused to himself. "No, sweetheart, I'm not going to do anything to you," he said aloud. A smile crossed her little face as she skipped back over to where they were previously sitting, picking up a little green book with a worm on it titled "Cherry" that she had apparently brought with her.

Checking to see that his little girl was out of hearing range for the moment, the man reached out his hand, "Hello doctor, I'm Gregory Fleming," he began, quickly dropping the how-to-do. "Tell me, please, is she alright? She was on her way home from work... I – I offered to come and get her, you know, she was so tired and it's raining so hard out there," he gestured toward the window where the rain was hammering away, "Please, please tell me she's okay," he begged.

"Hello, Mr. Fleming," Jesse said, trying to be as professional and unemotional as possible. "I'm Dr. Travis," he continued, "I'm very sorry –"

"What? You're sorry for what?" Gregory interrupted, his eyes widening with fear as though he knew what was coming.

"- It was too severe, Mr. Fleming. She lost control of the car. There were severe head wounds. Several of her ribs were broken; both of her lungs were punctured. Too much internal bleeding," Jesse trailed off almost silently. "I'm so sorry."

"No! Don't nonchalantly march yourself in here and preach that you did everything you could and then tell me she didn't make it!" The fury on his face quickly paled away as he slumped down into his chair and rested his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands, "Oh God, Mary, my Mary," he sobbed quietly.

"There's some paperwork you need to fill out," Jesse began gently, "You can do that tomorrow. Talk to Nurse Maxwell about it when you're ready," he said quietly, putting a comforting hand on Mr. Fleming's back.

The little girl had long before taken her concentration off the book to see what was going on. Raising herself to her feet she ran over to her father. "Daddy! Daddy! Why are you crying?" She pleaded. Gregory quickly looked up again, her presence bringing him back to his horrible reality. Wiping his eyes, he gathered her up in his arms and looked deep into her eyes.

"Honey..." he began, absolutely horrified about what he had to tell her.

"Mommy!" She hollered, "When is she coming out? I'm bored. Can we go home? Where's mommy?"

"Mommy isn't coming out, Sara, my love. Mommy's gone to heaven," he said half choking on his tears; trying to remain strong for his daughter. For what seemed like an eternity there was only silence in the room, the only sound coming from the rain. Sara's big green eyes were brimming over the edge with tears and the room felt as thought it was on the brink of an unavoidable storm.

"NO! NO! WHERE'S MOMMY?!" She cried in hysterical shouts, beating her tiny fists against her father's chest, her eyes closed as tears came flowing down in torrents of a broken innocence.

Her father gently stood and lifted her from the ground into his arms. He looked back at Jesse. "Thank you, Dr. Travis. I'll call tomorrow to figure out what needs to be done," he stuttered silently. Jesse nodded sympathetically when he was caught off guard by the little girl glaring at him as her father carried her out.

"I HATE YOU!" she sobbed, "YOU'RE THE WORST DOCTOR EVER! YOU PROMISED YOU WOULDN'T DO ANYTHING TO ME!!" She let out another wail of misery as the glass doors to the parking lot softly clicked shut leaving Jesse alone in the room, very shocked.