Hey everyone! Again thanks for the reviews, always welcome and very much appreciated! Hope you'll find plenty to review about this time! Sorry, it's a little later than I'd planned, but Higher homework sort of gets in the way! Anyway, hope you enjoy…

All Disclaimers Apply

Psychotic Break-out

Chapter 5: ER

Steve Sloan rapped his knuckles firmly and loudly on the door of his best friend's apartment.

He waited for a few moments, listening for noises from within - the give-away noises that someone was coming to answer the door. Instead, he heard nothing; the apartment was stone silent.

Steve's first thought was that something was wrong. His heart rate quickened and he rapped harder on the door, panic sweeping in nauseous waves through his veins. "Jesse!" He called through the door. What if something's really wrong here? What if she's got to him? What if hitting his head like that's given him heart failure or something? The questions were running through his mind a mile a minute, each one more terrifying than the next.

"Jesse?" He called again, except louder and more urgent. What if he's just asleep? Steve's rational side kicked in and he stopped pounding for a moment to think. What if he's just resting and I'm making all this noise for no reason? But Steve discounted this thought almost as soon as it entered his head. He stood back for a moment, straining his ears for any sound. Be reasonable Sloan! Again his rational side started to protest, There isn't even any sign of forced entry! Jesse would just be waking up and coming to open the door…or he was lying dead or seriously injured while Steve stood pondering outside his door -

That's it! Steve had had enough. If Jesse was asleep inside that apartment he would definitely have heard the pounding on his front door! Taking a few steps back, he rounded on the door with a heavy kick. The wood splintered and the door flew open with a resounding crash that reverberated around the living room. I'll pay for the door later Steve thought as he entered the apartment, If that doesn't wake him, nothing will.

Steve made immediately for the bedroom, having seen no Jesse in the living room or kitchen. He barrelled through the doorway and stopped short when he saw his friend curled up on the bed with the duvet tucked around his shoulders and a peaceful expression on his face. I shoulda known! Steve smirked in spite of himself All this time I've been panicking and he's been asleep!

Steve was about to turn and leave when he noticed something.

Just a tiny detail, yet it made his blood run cold and fear grip at his heart. There was no rise and fall of Jesse's chest. He was not sleeping.

He was not breathing!

Steve rushed to Jesse's bedside and shook him gently, trying to rouse him, hoping he wasn't mistaken. "Jesse!" He called softly as he grabbed a limp wrist to find his pulse. Steve's blood was pounding in his ears. Jesse was very cold, and his unresponsiveness worried Steve. Please don't be dead! Please don't be dead! He thought frantically as he searched for a pulse.

Finally, after several moments of fraught silence with only the sound of his own laboured breathing, he felt a weak pulse beating against his fingers. That's it Jesse! Relief coursed through his veins, almost making him lose sight of the task at hand. He didn't know what was wrong with Jesse, but he knew that something was definitely not right. His hand went immediately to his pocket for his cell phone.

His fingers dialled the familiar 911. Those buttons are getting very worn Steve thought grimly, how many times had he had to dial this number for a friend or member of his family?

With a calmness that only years on the police force could provide, Steve relayed the details of the situation to the woman on the other end of the phone.

"An ambulance will be there shortly Lieutenant Sloan" The emotionless voice told him.

"Thank you" Steve said sincerely as he sank back against Jesse's bed. He sighed at the emotional upheaval of it all, and it still wasn't over; Jesse could still die. He only hoped he hadn't bee too late. What happened here? Steve asked himself desperately. He'd seen this sort of thing before, when people had taken an overdose of drugs, or been given an overdose of drugs!

Steve jumped up from the bed as a fire had been lit underneath him and ran to the bathroom. He didn't have to search very far before he found what he was looking for. An empty aspirin bottle lying right next to Jesse's wash basin, the lid unscrewed. Had it been spiked? Or just how many had Jesse taken? He had gotten himself a concussion… Steve grabbed a tissue, lifted the bottle carefully and put it into his pocket.

Just then he heard a siren in the distance. He rushed out of the bathroom and made for the front door to wait for the paramedics. After what seemed like an age, three men carrying a stretcher and an ECG came running up the hall. "In here" Steve shouted, leading them directly to his friend. "I suspect some kind of overdose" He advised them as they bent down to examine Jesse.

"He's still breathing" commented one as he put an oxygen mask securely around Jesse's pale face.

"Any idea how long he's been this way?" Another asked Steve as they began to strap Jesse into a stretcher.

"No, I found him this way about fifteen minutes ago" Steve answered quickly, trying to keep his cool. He lost the battle, "Will he be okay?" He asked despairingly.

"We don't know, but he needs to get to a hospital immediately, but I'd say your quick thinking may have greatly increased his chances of survival" The medic tried to reassure him. Steve appreciated it, but he felt no better. If only I'd gotten there sooner…

The paramedics were carrying Jesse out of the apartment, while Steve stood there lost in his own personal hell. "Lieutenant Sloan?" One of the medics cut through his thoughts. "Lieutenant Sloan would you like to ride in the ambulance?"

Steve regained his composure, " Uh, no I gotta sort out some things here" He wanted to go, but he had to make sure that nobody tampered with Jesse's apartment in his absence, and seeing as he had broken the door…

He stood forlornly watching the medics carry Jesse down the hall and out of his sight. Then he pulled out his cell phone and called his father.

* * * *

Mark thought he was ready when the paramedics wheeled Jesse into the ER. Putting his own personal fears aside he strode forward, professional mask firmly in place, as his young friend made his dramatic entrance.

Mark tried not to notice how pale his friend looked as he lay prone, mask strapped round his face, struggling to provide him with vital oxygen he so desperately needed. He snatched the chart away from the nearest medic and began barking out orders to the surrounding nurses. As they scattered, he directed the medics to Trauma 1 and gave the order for him to be placed on an examination table.

Mark ran a shaky hand through his grey hair and wiped the sweat from his forehead. Just then Doctor Richmond, an experienced ER resident, stepped up beside Mark. "I'll take over Mark, you look terrible" It wasn't an offer.

"No Tom, I'm fine I can handle it" I sound just like Jesse! He thought sadly as he glanced at his now incapacitated friend.

"Mark! Do you really think it's wise? You're emotionally involved! You could make a wrong decision" Richmond persisted.

Mark looked again at Jesse's chalk white figure, and made up his mind.

"Okay, you're right Tom" Mark looked a worn and beaten man as he watched his colleague take up the battle for Jesse's life. He had come to regard Jesse as more of a son than a friend, and seeing him like this really hit him hard.

"Mark!" A familiar voice called from further down the ER, bringing him back to reality with a bang. Mark regained his senses and turned round, Amanda was running through the melee of nurses, doctors and patients that frequented the ER. Her face showed signs of strain and there were the beginnings of tears in her dark eyes.

"I just heard" she choked out, "What's wrong with him?" Her eyes searched his, aching for some sort of reassurance that her friend would be okay. But Mark could give her none.

"I don't know Amanda" Mark sighed, "Steve told the paramedics that he thought Jesse had taken something, an overdose"

"Knowingly?" Amanda questioned, she looked sceptical.

"I don't know" Mark said again. "Steve's running tests on the aspirin bottle, and Tom Richmond's testing Jesse's blood, we'll know soon enough"

Mark's defeatist attitude was worrying, usually he was so positive. "He wouldn't let me…Tom wouldn't let me help, and it's all my fault that Jesse's in this situation"

Amanda grabbed Mark by the arm and pulled him into the doctor's lounge. "Mark, that's just not true"

He stared at her for a moment, "It is true Amanda, I should have gone to him! He'd been injured and I should have gone to him!" He sank down into a chair and out his head into his hands. "How long was he lying there? I should have been there!"

Amanda sat down next to him, not really knowing how to alleviate his guilt. "Jesse asked you not to come, he said he was fine he…there was no way you could have foreseen this. Besides, any one of us could have gone over there; the blame does not rest with you" She laid a comforting hand on his tense shoulders, trying to ease his pain.

"I'll call Steve" she offered after a while.

"He won't come. I asked him before, when he told me…I'm really worried about him, he's throwing himself into finding out what happened. He hasn't behaved like this in a long time. He thinks it's his fault" Mark's face was haggard and pale. "He should be here!"

"Mark? Amanda?" Tom Richmond appeared at the door looking strained. "We're taking Jesse to the OR, whatever he took, we need to get it out of his system quickly. There's no time to wait for the test results, we're losing him"

To Be Continued…