Steve sat back in the armchair, one hand grasping the other. His posture was hunched, tensed as if in readiness to pounce. A deep frown creased his handsome features, and although his eyes were fixed on Jesse's pallid face they were unseeing, clouded with a swirl of conflicting emotions.
How can this be happening? Jesse would never hurt anyone! How could someone just attack him completely unprovoked? From confusion they turned to worry, What if he's not ok? What if we can't get him to the hospital in time? What if…? And then to anger, at the man who attacked Jesse; When I find who did this I'll make them regret it. They'll wish they'd never been born, and at Jesse himself, Why didn't he just go home? The rain was heavy, why trail up here in such bad weather? What did he do to aggravate the other driver?
It was these last thoughts which disturbed him the most. He knew he had no reason to be angry with Jesse, no reason at all, and yet he couldn't help it. These thoughts were born more out of frustration and the intense feeling of helplessness he felt rather than actual anger, but he still hated himself for thinking it. It was in the midst of these thoughts that Amanda came back into the room, her presence shaking him from his ruminations.
"Hey" She smiled, her eyes betraying her exhaustion. Steve returned the smile, albeit briefly.
"I just dried off a bit… so, any change?"
"No. Nothing." Steve didn't even raise his eyes. He knew his response was short, but he couldn't stretch his chaotic thoughts to niceties.
"I'll, uh, just… I'll see if Mark needs any help with…" Amanda fell silent, completing the excuse was unnecessary, Steve was obviously completely unaware that she was talking to him so she left, silence again settling in the room.
The air was hot, stifling. The candlelight illuminated only a small radius from its central point, almost as if a spotlight were being shone on Jesse. Outside the circle of light the room was in almost complete darkness, and Steve let his eyes wander from the orange glow of the candles. The rattle of the rain echoed from outside the windows, and the roar of the stormy waves crashing against the beach lulled Steve into an almost hypnotic trance with their rhythmic beat.
"Steve?" Jesse spoke softly, the effort obviously laborious.
"Jess?" Jesse's voice grabbed his attention immediately and he turned to face him. "How you feeling?"
"Not so good," Jesse attempted a smile which turned into a grimace before it managed to reach his usually shining blue eyes. "It doesn't hurt so much anymore but," he paused and took a shaky breath, "I'm so tired…"
"Jess, you have to hang on. Promise me, ok? We're gonna get you outta here so you have to hang on. Jesse?" Steve raised his voice, Jesse's eyes flickered as if to close, but opened again as Steve shook him gently.
"Ok. I…" Jesse squeezed his eyes closed as another wave of pain washed through him taking his breath, he gasped. As the pain abated he blinked his eyes open again, the seething bruises across his cheekbones seemingly highlighted against his ashen pallor. "Steve… I'm scared." Jesse fell silent, despite the situation he still felt a deep sense of shame at admitting his fear, he had, after all, been extremely self-sufficient for most of his life and was unused to showing, what he considered to be, weaknesses.
Steve watched his face, able to read his anguish as easily as if it were the printed word in a book.
"Jesse, you have every right to be scared, hell, if that were me I'd be as scared too – anyone would be. But you're going to be ok. I just know it, and don't argue with me, I'm a cop." He grinned down at Jesse, his tone playful. This lightening of the tension seemed to rub off somewhat on Jesse who managed to return the smile, and as his eyelids again fluttered to a close he mumbled, almost inaudibly,
"I'm going to be ok."