Psychotic Break-out

Hey people! Back from the states, had a great time! Sorry I kept you all waiting. On a depressing note, back to school (crap!) but hopefully I'll be able to keep up with my writing duties! Thanks all for your kind reviews, even the people that shouted at me, you know who you are! Hope you won't have anything to shout at when you read this chapter! Enjoy!

All Disclaimers apply

Chapter 4: Friends

In the quiet Community General Doctor's lounge, three friends were having a heated discussion. Steve Sloan paced the small room as his father spoke and Amanda Bentley was trying to reassure him, although the words she used seemed empty and pointless.

"All I know is he hasn't called" Mark sighed, his brow furrowing.

"He could have just slept in!" Amanda persisted for what seemed like the millionth time.

"I keep telling you that Jesse just doesn't sleep in!" Steve was gravely worried for his friend, he ran a shaking hand through his hair as he spoke. "What if she's got to him!"

"We don't know that son!" Mark tried to calm down his son, "It hasn't been that long, I think we should wait before we jump to conclusions. If he doesn't phone within the next hour then we can do something, okay?"

"Okay Dad" Steve sighed in resignation, but he couldn't quite shake the feeling that something was wrong. If Chloe's hurt him, I swear I'll. . .

Amanda could practically see the steam blowing out of Steve's ears as his face grew redder and redder. She stood slowly and placed an arm on his shoulder to calm him down. "He'll be okay Steve"

"He has to be" Steve sighed.

* * * *

Jesse moaned as he woke up. A dull throbbing ache plagued his brain as he fought to push himself upright. He was on the floor of his living room! Groggily he heaved himself up and then promptly collapsed onto his couch, breathing rapidly at the effort it had taken him. When the room had stopped spinning, he raised a surprisingly steady hand to examine the back of his head; a raised bump and a sticky substance met his probing fingers. He took his hand away and examined the wetness: blood.

His eyes readjusted, and he noticed the fallen pot plant, it's soil contents spilled unceremoniously onto the carpet. He frowned, trying to remember what happened.

A book! He could see it in his mind's eye! Mythical creatures. . .The Devil. . . A drawing of him! Asleep! Chloe Marsden had been in his apartment. An open door. . .the door to his apartment. . .

He glanced up at the door, it was shut. He glanced around for the book and the paper, but they were nowhere to be found. He was certain they'd been there, or was he? He looked again at the fallen pot plant, could it be? Could it be that the plant had knocked him unconscious? He'd been so sure about Chloe Marsden. All he remembered was being hit from behind, but realistically it could have been the plant. Am I going mad? Maybe I just dreamt it?

He got up slowly, well aware that the room was tilting at an awkward angle, stumbled over to the freezer and brought out a packet of ice. It was probably too late to stop the swelling, but he might as well try.

He winced as the cold penetrated the fleshy lump, but he held it there for a few minutes anyway. The time on his kitchen clock caught the corner of his eye, and he dropped the ice pack from his hand in surprise. He was two hours late for his shift at the hospital! "Oh crap!" He muttered under his breath. Not only was he late, but he knew that his friends would be worried about him.

Reaching for the phone, he noticed his movements were slow and sluggish; there was no way he could drive, and besides he was almost certain he had a concussion, he'd be no use to his patients in this state. The room began to spin again as Jesse slowly dialled the number of the hospital.

The voice on the other end sounded muffled, "Community General Hospital reception, how can I help you?"

"This is Doctor Travis, I, uh, I need to speak to, uh, Doctor Mark Sloan"

* * * *

"Doctor Mark Sloan, Line 2. Doctor Mark Sloan, Line 2" The call rang out over the hospital tannoy system. Mark stole a meaningful glance at Amanda and Steve as he hurried out of the doctor's lounge. They were all silently hoping it would be good news.

Mark's expression was taut with nervous anticipation as he reached the reception and picked up the phone. "Mark Sloan" he said.

"Mark? It's Jesse" Came the reply, he sounded agitated, and his words were a little slurred, as though he was on drugs.

Mark could feel the warm relief flow through his body. He let out the breath he had unconsciously been holding. His friend was okay! But what could possibly have happened?

"Jesse are you alright? When you didn't turn up for your shift this morning we-" Mark's fears all tumbled out of his mouth in a rush, but Jesse stopped him before he could get into full flood.

"Mark I'm fine!" Jesse reassured him, but Mark thought he sounded a little strained. "I just. . .got a little bump on the head is all. It's nothing"

Aha! Mark thought, Now we're at the root of the problem! "Jesse did you black out? You may have a concussion, let me come over and check you out"

"I'm fine!" Jesse snapped, "Okay Mark? I'm fine, I don't need to be fussed over. It's just a small concussion, and I am a doctor" Jesse sounded as if he was reassuring himself more than he was Mark.

But Mark wasn't finished yet; he was following a train of thought "Jesse how did you bump your head?" He asked innocently.

Silence. Jesse contemplated his answer.

"Well I uh, my plant pot, you know uh, the big one. . .it sorta fell on my head" he finished lamely.

The plant pot? Was that the best he could come up with?

"Jesse do you have any idea how ridiculous that sounds? How exactly did it fall on your head? How exactly could it fall on your head?" Without being pushed! Mark was fairly sure he didn't have to voice that sentence aloud to get his message across.

"Well, I kinda don't remember that part. . ." Jesse sounded uncomfortable, and Mark knew he was holding back, but he knew Jesse well enough to know that now was not the time to push him for answers.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Mark asked a final time to try and convince him.

"Yes Mark! I'll get some rest today, and I'll be in tomorrow bright and early"

Mark said goodbye and hung up the phone with a puzzled face. What was Jesse hiding?

He turned round and discovered Steve and Amanda hovering behind him furtively. Both had quizzical looks on their faces.

"That was Jesse" Mark announced.

"Well Duh!" Amanda said in a sarcastic, impatient tone. "What did he say?" She asked quickly, her eyes demanding an answer.

"I couldn't get much out of him but it seems he bumped his head, or rather the plant pot knocked him out" Mark repeated the general gist of his conversation with Jesse. "He sounded like he was holding something back, he was very agitated"

Steve looked suspicious, "What if it had something to do with Chloe?" He voiced all of their thoughts.

"But then surely he would tell us?" Amanda asked, more than a little worried for her friend.

"It could all be very innocent!" Mark commented, "Maybe the plant really did fall on his head!"

"You're kidding right?" Steve choked back a laugh even though he was concerned for his surrogate brother. "I'll go round and see him later"

* * * *

Jesse stumbled over to the couch in his living room and collapsed onto the couch. It was frightening just how much the phone call had taken out of him; it had taken all of his strength just to sound normal and unconcerned. His breath came in short sharp gasps and his head throbbed in time to the beating of his heart as he lay half on half off the couch.

For some reason he hadn't been able to tell Mark about the book. Could it be because he didn't even know if it was real, or his imagination? Or was it because he desperately wanted to believe that Chloe Marsden was gone? Part of him suspected also that he didn't want his friends to worry about him; the fiercely independent streak that told him he could handle this by himself, without involving or endangering them.

Did Mark buy it though? Jesse asked himself, he sounded sceptical. . .

Jesse pushed himself slowly up from the sofa when he had rested enough, then he padded slowly and carefully through to his bathroom and took some aspirin out of his medicine cabinet. He downed a couple of pills with a glass of cold water before making his unstable way through to his bedroom.

Aspirin's sure working fast! Jesse thought to himself as he crawled into bed, his arms and legs heavy like lead.

It wasn't long before he was out like a light.

To Be Continued. . .

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