My Jesseness has deserted me. That's my only explanation if Jesse sounds weird in this chapter.

Come back to me, Jesseness….

-Aina-

Jesse

The days are dark, like my heart.

I laughed out loud at that thought, feeling ridiculously sentimental. Nothing like pieces of corny words formed together to create the illusion that a person is a hopeless romantic. A simple poetry with a bouquet of flowers, and a man is dubbed the next Romeo Montague.

But how could I comment on it? I was no more a romantic than most men I know. It wasn't in my knowledge to speak of such things, especially when I had lost the only person who could ever turn me into the hopeless romantic.

Shaking my head, I realized that I was thinking incoherent thoughts so I moved away from the window in the men's room towards the row of sinks. I glanced at my reflection in the mirror above the sinks, saw my bloodshot eyes and was thankful that they were the only outward signs of how bad I was feeling.

Twisting the faucet, I leaned over the sink and splashed cold water on my face. I was only halfway through my shift, but my eyes were aching and my head was throbbing in dull pain. It was a way for my body to tell me that I was lacking rest and sleep, but I ignored it. Grabbing the paper towel from the dispenser, I wiped my face and headed out.

I made my way to the nurses' counter, where a number of nurses were grouped behind it, talking animatedly. Usually I would tell them not to project the image that they're not doing their jobs – even though they usually were, only they also worked with their mouths and not just with their hands – but today I wasn't in the mood to speak. In fact, I hadn't been in the mood to speak for the last couple of weeks. Not unless it was absolutely necessary.

Rifling though the stack of files on the counter, I read through some of the patients' profile, the nurses' conversation a buzz in the background.

'What are you talking about? Of course Dr. Derek! He's so handsome…'

'Lisa, Dr. Derek is a wuss. He and Meredith make a perfect pair. Jack Shepherd, now that's a real doctor. Intelligent, tough and good-looking. All I need in a man.'

'He's stuck in a darn island. Of course he has to be tough!'

'What about Dr. House?'

'Ew, he's mean! Imagine working for him!'

'Yeah, I know, but there's something about him that makes me want to take care of him...'

'You're mad, Dana.'

'You two kids don't know anything. The best doctor on television would have to be Dr. Ross, from the early ER. Handsome, nice and great with kids. He was the most perfect doctor ever written, trust me on that.'

'ER! I used to have a crush on Dr. Carter, you know. He's really cute…'

I blanked out the voices as I focused on the file in front of me. It was a file of Steven Stanley, which reminded me of YLN and Hotel Twenty. And the last meeting I had with Susannah before the inevitable thing happened.

Inevitable? Was I expecting her to end our relationship?

I closed my eyes and rubbed them, suddenly feeling completely exhausted. My stomach grumbled, indicating that I needed dinner besides sleep, but it went unheeded. I only came to the hospital because of my job, and nothing more.

'Ladies, you don't need to look at TV shows to find the perfect doctor. He's standing right in front of you.'

I glanced up at the sound of Dylan's voice, and saw him sauntering over to the counter, a lazy smirk on his face. Sighing, I quickly began to gather up the files to get away from him. I really didn't want to handle his questions at the moment.

'Dr. Rourke? I'd take Dr. House over you any day.' Laughter burst from the nurses, and instantly I felt sickened by their happiness.

It was as if by being miserable, I wanted everyone else to feel the same way. I wanted to infect the world with my wretched outlook, and all of a sudden I felt ashamed for being envious of other people's happiness. I was miserable because of my own doing, after all. What right did I have to loathe others for seizing every opportunity to be happy?

As I started to walk towards Steven's room, I heard my name being called. I ignored it at first, recognizing the voice, but then he called again so I had no choice but to turn around at the expense of being rude.

'Yes?'

'You look like shit,' Dylan stated, scrunching his face in disgust as he came up behind me.

'Thanks for letting me know. I didn't realize that,' I replied, a sarcastic tone to my voice.

Dylan paused, as if assessing my mood. I looked at him impatiently, and he said, 'Dude, really…if you got a problem, you know you can tell me.'

I sighed heavily. 'I don't have a problem, Dylan. I have told you time and time again, please don't think that if you ask me enough times, I would change my answer. I'm fine.'

'Like hell you're fine. You look like crap, coming into the hospital all moody and channeling Dr. Doom all over again…' he trailed off, before continuing, 'It is Suze?'

'Why does everything has to be about her?' I snapped, losing my patience.

'Because everything that is important to you is related to her,' Dylan answered simply.

I swallowed, feeling a lump in my throat as his words hit home. Everything in my life that mattered was about her. She was everything that was important to me.

But apparently, I did not show it to her enough so that she never knew how I felt about her. She thought because I didn't tell my parents about her, she wasn't important.

The dull pain in my head throbbed again, and I took a breath.

'Are you alright?'

I opened my eyes and looked at him jadedly. 'I'm fine. Just a little tired. And you're right… it is about Susannah. She broke up with me.'

'Holy -! When?' He looked shocked.

'When she was in the hospital. She met another man. Now look, I have patients –'

He cut me off, not letting me escape so easily. 'Wait a second. She met another guy? But…weren't you two together?'

I clenched my jaw, memories of Susannah and I spending time together flooding back like unwanted currents. 'We were.'

'So how…?'

'She just…she works with him. They know each other. I don't really want to talk about it, Dylan.'

He still looked a little stunned. 'Is the guy the one who took her home?'

My mind flashed back to the day when Susannah was well enough to be released, and I stood at the corridor hidden, but in view of the entrance to see if she needed any help with her cast. I had told Dylan to ask an orderly to help her, but she had declined. I watched her limp with her crutches to the entrance and as the glass door opened, my heart dropped to the floor.

A young, good-looking man rushed in, walking hurriedly to her, all the while talking enthusiastically. I couldn't hear what was being said, but I saw her face lighting up when she saw him, and he grinned in return. He took her bag and walked with her outside, his hand placed on her arm.

I seethed at the sidelines, raw jealousy surging through me, but there was nothing I could do – at least nothing that wouldn't get me in trouble with the law.

I suppose I didn't really believe her claim of this Oliver, until I saw him myself. And that was when I knew it was over between us, the memory of her smiling at him playing itself over and over again in my head until I could barely concentrate on my job, sniping at everyone I met.

'I guess that's him,' I replied shortly, not liking the jealousy that threatened to return.

'Wow. No wonder you're acting all strange. And that explains…' he trailed off, comprehension dawning on his face.

Despite my initial desire to escape him, I was curious. 'Explain what?'

'Why she avoided talking about you…when I was treating her,' Dylan replied hesitantly.

I felt a stab of pain somewhere in my chest, and looked away. Susannah must have felt that topics about me were generally unpleasant, and amidst the sadness, I felt a little angry at her, for ending things the way she did. For choosing another man over me.

Maybe it was just my pride talking. She had the right to choose whoever she wants in her life, after all.

'It must be hard on you…I'm so sorry, man,' Dylan said again, his blue eyes sympathetic.

I didn't want his sympathy, because I didn't deserve it. He didn't know that the real reason why Susannah had broken up with me was because of my parents. I couldn't tell Dylan that, because I knew that he would push me to get back with her and make things right between us again, which was exactly my sentiment.

But remembering how happy she was with that Oliver, I knew I couldn't do that to Susannah. She must love him so, and to force her to choose between him and me was unfair. She was happy now, with him. That was all that mattered.

Though it didn't mean I had to feel good about it.

'It's fine. I have to go see my patients, I will talk to you later,' I said, walking off before he could respond.

As I mulled over the conversation, I realized that as much as I hate to admit it, talking to Dylan lessened the pain a little. I'd been keeping this inside of me for so long that it was a release to talk about it, even for a short moment.

Pushing the door to Steven's room, I walked over to him and checked his vitals. As I was writing the notes in his file, I heard a rustling behind me. I groaned, not looking forward to handling any ghost business.

'Doctor. Working late today?'

I glanced over at Darren and said wearily, 'Yes, as you can see.'

He cocked his head to the side and looked at me silently. I turned back to the file and continued my work.

'You've been working late a lot lately.'

'Is there something you want, Darren?' I said, trying to keep the annoyance out of my voice.

'Yeah, there's something I want,' he retort, walking over to the side of the bed and glaring at me. 'I want you to find out what's going on with YLN. I want you to find out why Steven's still in the hospital. I want you to find out who did this to him and me. I want something, Hector!'

I glared back at him. 'I talked to Robert, and he claimed that what happened to you was an accident. You ate a blowfish that wasn't cleaned properly. Charges were filed, payments were made, case closed. Yetyou're telling me it's a murder?'

Darren looked angry, his glow seeming to double in its shine. 'It was a murder. I've been to that restaurant and ate the blowfish God knows how many times and never before had they made a mistake about not cleaning the fish properly. Someone else must have done the deed. Maybe they ordered someone to do it. You're supposed to figure it out.'

'Well, I've tried to research on the company, and I've tried to find some ways that to prove their guilt. But none of them leads anywhere,' I said, trying to explain.

'So what, you're just gonna give up? What about Steven, huh? Don't you think it's pretty strange that he's in a coma, even after you said that his heart attack was normal? Huh?'

I sighed, knowing that he was right.

I had wondered why Steven still hadn't woken up, even after almost three weeks in the hospital. His condition was stable, but he's just not awake. I didn't know why, and it would seem suspicious but for the nonexistent trace of any chemicals in his blood.

'It is a little strange,' I admitted. 'But Darren, there's no proof of foul play. Yes, Steven should have woken up by now and yet he has not, but he's not sick in any way. It is as if…he's sleeping.'

'Well, I think there's something wrong with him. And in case you've forgotten I can't move on until the murderer is caught, but I don't see you doing anything to help me in that direction. All you do is work, go back and mope around, and work again. When do you find the time to help me? Help us?'

I stared at him, his words hitting an angry spot. 'What do you mean, 'go back and mope around'? Have you been following me?'

He shrugged, but his face changed, looking more uncomfortable. 'Well, I had to know if you're doing something…'

'Darren -,' I stopped and thought about my words carefully, intending to get the meaning clear. 'I will look into your situation, alright? I just need some time to actually do it. I do not need your supervision.'

Darren shook his head, turning to look at Steven who was lying peacefully on the bed. 'Time is not something we have. By the time you figure out what really happens, Steven and Robert might have already joined me in the afterlife. But hey, maybe that's a good thing. I sure wouldn't be lonely anymore…'

I took on his sad expression and suddenly understood how hard it must have been, not able to do anything while his friends become potential victims to murder. I still had my doubts, but being a mediator was something I was born to, and having a personal problem was not a reason to push him away.

Especially since I could, in a way, relate to his helplessness.

'I understand your frustration, and you're right. I haven't been looking into solving your problem lately. But I will. As soon as I get home, I will,' I promised.

In my mind, I knew that it wasn't just because I wanted to help Darren, but also because this could be a way for me to forget about Susannah.

Looking satistfied, Darren dematerialized with a nod. I took a moment to gather my thoughts, before continuing my notes for Steven. Then I left the room.

'Jesse!'

I turned and saw Elliot, one of my colleagues, rushing towards me.

'Can you do me a favor? I need to go see my wife on the 9th floor, she just went into labor, but I have a patient waiting for me in Room 416. Nothing major, she's just coming back for a checkup on her injury, just see if she's alright and let her go. I've already given her medicine the last time she was here. Would you please –'

'Of course, I'll take care of it. Just go and be with your wife,' I assured him.

'Thanks, Jesse. So sorry about this being last-minute and all,' he said, his voice fading as he hurried to the lifts.

I smiled, not able to imagine the anxiety of knowing you're about to become a father. Perhaps I will, one day.

That reminded me of Susannah again, and I cursed myself for still pining over her every single minute of the day. My mood souring, I made my way to Room 416.

I entered the room and was met with a familiar face. The woman sitting at the edge of the bed was young, with light hair, vivid blue eyes and a sparkly dress which didn't look fitting to a patient in a hospital.

But I couldn't remember where I had seen her.

'Oh hello,' she said, smiling. 'You're not my doctor. Although I wouldn't mind if you are...'

I ignored the comment and said, 'I'm Dr. de Silva. Dr. Zehr had an emergency, he asked me to take over your case for today.'

She sat up straighter, her smile widening. 'Lucky me.'

That's when it hit me. This woman was Club V lady. Dylan's ex-girlfriend. She looked familiar because I had seen her when she first came for a treatment a couple of weeks ago.

If only had Elliot met with Dylan instead of me, his reaction when he came into this room would have been rather funny.

I looked at her bandaged foot and asked, 'You injured your leg?'

'Yes, I twisted it,' she said in sad voice, lifting her knee-length skirt up to her thigh, even though her injury was clearly only around her ankle. I averted my gaze from her leg, and focused on her foot. Gingerly lifting it, I pressed around the ankle slowly.

'Does this hurt?'

She smiled slyly. 'No. Your touch is gentle…better than Dr. Zehr.'

I ignored that too, and pressed again. 'Here?'

'No…that feels good, actually.'

I dropped her foot like it was on fire, and asked, 'Does it hurt when you walk?'

She frowned, a somewhat disappointed expression on her face as she looked at her foot. 'Not really…'

'Thenyou're fine. Just finish the prescription Dr. Zehr gave you, and after that you can remove the bandage and wear proper shoes again.'

'Aren't you going to remove it for me?' she pouted, and I felt uneasy. Dylan had told me the type of woman she was, and I wasn't comfortable with her insinuations.

I shook my head quickly. 'No, you can do that yourself in a few days.'

'Hmm…okay.' She dropped off the bed and put on her sandals. 'My high heels are waiting for me to get back into them. They make my legs look much better than these things, you know.'

Pretending that I didn't hear her, I opened the door and waited for her to leave, but she didn't. Instead, she slowly made her way towards me, that sly smile on her face again. I backed away, but the wall was behind me, so I ended up standing a mere two feet away from her.

'It was very nice meeting you, Dr. de Silva. You're Dylan's friend, aren't you?'

I looked at her in surprise. 'How did you know?'

'Dylan mentioned you when we were dating. He didn't mention how handsome you are, though…'

'Well…' I paused, not knowing what to say. 'Thank you.'

She laughed, and then looked in her purse, searching for something. She pulled out a small card and held it up. 'This is my card. My family owns a nightclub downtown, called Club V. If you wanted hot dancing, a free drink or two, this is the place to go.'

I narrowed my eyes. 'I don't go clubbing.'

She shrugged. 'It doesn't matter. Sometimes we just need a place to get away from our problems… maybe you'll find this invitation would come in need in the future.'

Her words rang true, but she wasn't the type of company I ever wanted to affiliate myself with, problems or not. But I reached for the card, knowing that unless I take it, she wouldn't leave me alone. I could throw it away once she had left.

Just as my finger touched the edge, she let go and the card fluttered to the ground.

'My mistake,' she said apologetically, then bent down to pick it up, displaying more than sufficient view of her cleavage. Dios. I hastily looked up and fixed my view on the wall, shaking my head at her boldness.

It never made me feel comfortable at the way some women dress nowadays. But Susannah never had to resort to such ways to attract men, which made her even more attractive.

Stop. Thinking. About. Her.

The woman straightened up, a smirk firmly placed on her lips and held out the card again. 'There you go.'

I snatched the card quickly before she could get up to any of her other tricks again. She laughed, walking to the doorway. Glancing at me, she said, 'Hope we'll meet again soon, Doctor.'

Then she exited the room, leaving me feeling absolutely relieved.

I looked down at the card she just gave me. It was made of shiny dark blue material, with large silver lettering on one side, proclaiming 'Club V'. Her name and contact number were written at the bottom also in silver, along with the address to the club.

Maria Valera. Guess that solved the mystery of what the 'V' in Club V stands for. Not that I particularly care.

I walked down the hallway towards my own patient's room, noticing a trash bin besides the door. I moved towards it, intending to throw away the card and be on my way.

But as I looked at the shiny blue and silver, something in my mind told me to keep it. I didn't know why, I certainly didn't have any intentions to even be anywhere near that place, or that Maria woman. Certainly not that Maria woman. It appeared that everything Dylan has said about her were not exaggerations.

I paused for a moment, my hand hovering over the trash bin.

Then I pocketed the card and entered the room.