A/N: OFMG! OC CENTRIC!! This is a continuation of the Fever chapter, so if you don't know how Victor ended up in the hospital, you might wanna read that one. Oddly enough, this has the word 'fever' in the chapter title. Purely unintentional, I assure you.

Trauma Center: Illness

Jessie: Hay Fever

Angeles Bay, California: the beautiful costal city of sun, surf, and pollen.

To say that Jessie Niguel was having a rough trip would be putting it mildly. Her time in Angeles Bay had started off bad enough, what with having to rush her ailing brother to the hospital and all. She was still worried about Victor's condition, but things had smoothed out a bit once he was treated and she was getting settled with her temporary co-workers.

That was when the local allergens decided to make her acquaintance.

There was something to be said about performing calculus based physics and organizing various data with burning, watery eyes and a stuffy nose. Jessie could do it, but only with the aid of a few colorful phrases she had burned to her vocabulary. This technique was also how she survived the bus rides to and from work. Inner city buses had a tendency to be cramped and the bumpy ride did nothing for her sinuses. She was miserable, in truth, and misery loved company. Such company had unwittingly sought her out, with nothing more than a routine phone call.

Jessie had just finished a mild coughing fit when Victor's phone hummed in her pocket. She grumbled into her handkerchief as she fished it from her lab coat, squirming against the other passengers that crushed her on both sides. "Hello?" She grunted, her irate mood only emphasizing her scratchy voice.

"Oh . . . sorry, I think I have the wrong number."

"Depends. You calling for Victor Niguel?"

"Yes. Who is this?"

"I'm his sister and he's not available right now. Call back later."

"Wait!"

She had already pulled the phone away from her ear and was ready to fold it shut when the caller had yelled out. His voice was clearly heard by those around her, causing a few unwanted glances to be cast her way. Jessie sighed, her throat itching, and she brought the phone back to her temple. "What?"

"My name is Timothy Ficsher and I'm from Caduceus."

"He can't come into work. He's been in the hospital for the last two days. You should know that."

"Yes, but Dr. Niguel needs to see this file right away. It's very important."

"I reiterate. He. Is. In. The. Hospital. Do you understand?"

"Yes, I know that. He requested himself that this be brought to him."

Jessie was silent for a while, taking a strong sniffle from her stuffed nose. "What's your name, again?"

"Timothy Ficsher."

"Right, okay Dr. Ficsher . . ."

"Nurse Ficsher, actually . . ."

". . .Okay, Nurse Ficsher, stay where you are."

With a flick, the cell phone was folded shut and stuffed back into her pocket, only to be replaced with a fresh tissue. A few good sneezes raked her body and she wiped her runny nose clean. Jessie pulled the tissue away from her face and looked for a proper place to dispose of it, but instead found herself on the receiving end of several scrutinizing eyes. "What are you all looking at?!"

Across the city, Tim pulled the phone away from his ear as the dial tone purred at him. He blinked at it, confused, and slowly set it back on the receiver. "Is everything all right, Nurse?" Tim looked up at Dr. Clarks; the doctor's curious look mirrored his perplexed feeling. "Everything's fine . . . I think." He received a raised eyebrow from the surgeon. He shrugged slightly and ran a hand through his hair as a realization struck him. "Say, Dr. Clarks, did you know Dr. Niguel had a sister?"

-----

"Victor, wake up."

Victor grumbled slightly at the hand that shook him awake. His eyes clenched tightly as he stirred irately, his bangs slowly sweeping across his sweat glistened brow. After allowing himself that small fit to denote his displeasure, his eyes blinked open and he took the initiative to greet his visitor. "Jessie . . . you look like crap." he muttered.

A small twitch of an eyebrow and scoff preceded a more verbal response. "And you're looking positively radiant yourself, dear brother."

She knew he was right. At the very least, she knew she could not have looked any better than she felt. On the other hand, Victor was looking better. He was still several shades paler than his normal complexion, which was worrisome considering that his skin was borderline vampiric, but he regained enough of his strength to easily push himself into a sitting position. He did just that, examining her through his narrowed hawk eyes. "You got sick from me. I was afraid of this."

"No, I'm not sick. It's just hay fever; allergies." Her shoulders locked as a cough threatened to expel from her lungs. She cleared her throat, masking its escape as best she could. "Anyway, I got a call from someone at Caduceus. Timothy Ficsher . ."

"Fischer . . . he's got that file I asked him for, I take it?"

"Yeah, about that. . . ." her blood shot eyes narrowed. ". . . just what the hell do you think you're doing?"

Victor blinked. "Pardon?"

"You're sick, Victor! You need to rest! You shouldn't be working . . ." Her words were shattered by a sneeze. Victor looked at her coolly.

"You're working . . ."

"I'm not the one being hospitalized . . . and it's just allergies."

"People can die from allergies, you know."

"Right, I know, but . . ." she sighed. "I'm just worried about you."

"I understand, but I can't afford to get behind in my research. People's lives are at stake."

". . .but . ."

"This conversation is over, Jessie."

She sniffled and stuttered for a moment, before easing herself into a mild glower. "You infuriate me sometimes, you know that?" she said. His gaze softened slightly, reverting back to his usual indifferent glare as he crossed his arms. "The feeling is mutual." he replied. The sharpness in Jessie's eyes let up as well, leaving the two of them to stare at one another apathetically. She stepped through the pseudo static between them and embraced him, hugging his head to her chest and resting her chin on top. "Don't work too hard, okay? Please take care of yourself." she murmured.

"You should take your own advice." he replied, wrapping his arms around her waist to feebly return the hug.

"It's just allergies . . ."

"Jessie, I can clearly hear moderate congestion in your lungs. You may want to see a doctor."

"You are a doctor."

Jessie let out a small grunt of pain as Victor tugged on her hair. "You know what I mean, Jess." She let go of him and rubbed her scalp, wincing slightly. "Okay, tell you what. I'll pick up some Benadryl at a drug store and if my allergies don't clear up, I'll see a doctor." Victor said nothing as his arms returned to their folded position. Jessie returned his cool gaze and stuffed her hands into her pockets. "I'll go see that Ficsher nurse and have him bring you the files personally. You'll have them by tonight."

"I appreciate that." he murmured. A tiny smirk twitched his mouth as she leaned in and gave him a small kiss on the forehead. "Honestly, Jessie . . ."

"What? I'm simply expressing my unconditional love for my older brother. It's not like we're making out."

"Whatever . . ."

She shrugged, slinging the strap of her soft briefcase over her shoulder. "I'll see you later tonight, with the documents you requested, but you've got to promise me you won't stay up all hours reading it. You still need sleep."

"I'll remind you that I was asleep until you woke me up." he said, mild amusement flashed in his eyes as his sister's shoulders perked up.

"Well, I can't talk to you if you're sleeping, can I?" she grumbled. "Are you going to promise me or what?"

"Fine, I can manage that, as long as you keep your promise to do something about your hay fever. I really don't want our positions to be reversed."

"They won't be."

She gave him a quick nod and petite smile, which he returned. She departed, leaving Victor with the ever tranquil – and down right boring – atmosphere of his isolation room. He sighed, slowly reaching for a book on the table and thumbing through the pages. "Hmm . . . Dresden, you're such an unlucky wizard."

-----

Senior Nurse Marianne Rangel was tired. Years of working as a nursing supervisor had left their marks on her slightly wrinkled face. She was thankful when her hard work and dedication had earned her a position on the front line of medicine. It was an honor, to be sure, but it also meant working with nurses just as caring and hardworking. Dealing with timid kids just out of nursing school and stuck up, jaded nurses is what had truly aged her. Caduceus nurses were much better behaved, even taking the chatterboxes that liked to spread rumors into account.

Still, she was tired. The front line of medicine had brought new opportunities and a load of work to back it up. She inhaled the sweet vapors of her coffee mug and was about to bring it to lips when her phone rang. She sighed. "Nurses' Station. This is Rangel speaking." She stared longingly at her coffee as she leisurely absorbed the secretary's words. "Yes, he's here . . . . did she leave her name? Okay, yes, thank you."

She hung up the phone and rose slowly, stretching out her sore muscles. She grabbed her coffee mug as she pushed her office door open and stepped into the nurses' lounge. A tuft of blond hair fluttered slightly in the corner of her eye. She turned, seeing that it belonged to the nurse in question. She approached him as he combed through a clipboard in his hands and she cleared her throat, not wanting to startle him.

"Nurse Ficsher, there's a girl at the front desk requesting to see you."

"Wha?" Tim looked up from the patient file. "A girl?"

"Ohh, I bet she's a secret admirer! You're so lucky!" Leslie chirped, prompting him to blush wildly.

"Wh-what!?"

"That's enough, Nurse Sears."

Leslie stopped her teasing, but she was unable to suppress her giggles. Rangel sighed and shook her head slightly and Tim coughed, attempting to regain his composure. "So, this girl . . . who is she?"

"She left the name 'Niguel'."

"Niguel? Ah, she must be Dr. Niguel's sister. I spoke with her earlier . . ."

"Victor has a sister?" Leslie asked.

"Did she say what she wanted?"

"She said it pertained to your conversation." Rangel said.

"Victor has a sister?"

"I think I know what she's here for. I better not keep her waiting."

He excused himself without another word, still blushing slightly from Leslie's teasing. The nurse in question blinked and turned to her superior. "Did you know Victor had a sister?"

-----

In Tim's humble opinion, it was quite a strange thing when one recognized a person they had never met. Even stranger considering he did not know of her existence until late that afternoon. Yet, there she was, standing out among the crowd of front line workers and visitors. There was nothing particularly remarkable about her appearance. Oddly enough, it was her midnight black hair that first caught his attention. She did not style or perm it, going only so far as to keep it well combed, clean and flowing just past her shoulders. Certainly not an unusual sight, though he later figured that it was the way it brought out her milky complexion that attracted his eye. It certainly did remind him of the head of R&D, but it was her eyes that had cast away all doubt. Analytical and sleep deprived, her eyes were unmistakably familiar . . . and red. She gently dabbed at her watering eyes with her sleeve before stuffing it back in her pocket. She blinked, settling an indifferent gaze on him. "You're Ficsher?"

He nodded, stepping forward and extending a hand. "Yes, and you're . . ."

"Jessie Darlene Niguel."

She returned the nod and accepted his hand, leading it into a short handshake. "All right, let's go." Jessie stuffed her hands back in her lab coat and turned, much to Tim's confusion. "Wha? Go where?"

"To see my brother." She stopped and glanced over her shoulder. "You need to give him that file, right?"

"Yes, but . . ."

"Do you have it on you?"

"Yes, but . . ."

"Then let's go."

"But . . . wait a second!"

She sighed and turned to face him fully. "What now?"

"You're sick!"

"Allergies. Just allergies, it'll be fi - hey!"

Jessie yanked at the hand that encircled her wrist, pitching forward when she was unable to break free. "What are you doing?!"

"Treating you." Tim turned towards her slightly and retained his grip on her. A crackling growl escaped her, prompting a cough from her irritated throat. She dug her heels into the floor as she choked into her hand. Even with her weight put into it, he continued to drag her down the hall as if she were going along willingly. Tim was not a particularly muscular man, but his job as a nurse was physically demanding. Between picking up patients, carrying equipment and rushing to assist doctors when a patient started coding, he had gotten a decent about of exercise. For him, overpowering a thin and petite girl like Jessie was effortless.

"Look, I just want to have a look at you." he said, keeping his head forward. "You can go into shock if your allergies keep progressing like they are. If they're as serious as they look, you need to be treated right away."

Jessie let out another sigh, clutching her chest as it began to tighten. She winced slightly; more as a sudden rush of her own foolishness overcame her than the difficulty she had breathing. She did not think that her condition was really something to worry about. True, she knew some allergic reactions could prove fatal, though those were mostly food allergies, which she did not have. Yet, when faced with Tim's blunt pre-diagnoses, she had to accept that she had no idea what was happening inside her body.

Besides, she promised Victor.

She stopped pulling on the nurse's arm and began walking to match his pace. "You can let me go now. I'll co-operate." He stopped and turned to face her, silently looking her over. Jessie followed his light blue eyes and grew angry when she found him overlooking her entire body. A tiny growl that rattled her throat was quickly extinguished as his eyes returned to meet hers and he let go. She cradled her hand and cast him a glare. "What the hell was that?" she asked.

"I have a knack for telling if someone is going to resist or not. I just had to be sure you weren't going to run once I let you go."

She stopped rubbing her wrist as her mouth and eyes widened slightly. She blinked twice, pressing her lips together and slimming her eyes. "So, you just jerk people around?" He shrugged, some how managing to look professional and nonchalant at the same time. "There aren't a lot of things I don't tolerate, but a patient ignoring a medical professional's advice is one of them."

"Hm, you're a no nonsense man under that skittish exterior?"

"You could say that. This way, please."

Tim led her down the hall and made an abrupt turn into an exam room. Jessie followed, still simmering as she walked towards a papered cot and settled herself upon it. The sudden and loud crinkle of the paper snapped her anger in two. Her rage all but shattered, she slowly shrunk into herself as she scanned the room. Tim glanced at her huddled form. "You're not nervous, are you?" he asked, startled as she tensed in response. "No! Why would I be?" He nodded and reached for a stethoscope from the wall, knowing better than to press the subject. He approached her, placing in the ear plugs and pressing the chest piece against her sternum. "Okay, deep breath, please." She did so, prompting Tim to pull the chest piece away and blink in amazement. "Wow . . . you're really congested."

"Thank you, Captain Obvious."

Tim ignored her snide remark, throwing the stethoscope around his neck and began rummaging through the cabinets. Jessie gripped the edges of the cot tightly as she allowed her vision to wander. She noticed that a laminated Garfield poster was suspended on the ceiling, just above the cot. Her mouth pulled into a smirk of short lived nostalgia as she read one of the orange cat's famous one liners, when an ominous snap brought her attention back to the nurse. A sinking feeling spread through her stomach as she watched Tim pull a pair of latex gloves over his hands. She bit her lip as he dabbed a cotton ball with cleansing alcohol, having a suspicion that she was not going to like what was up and coming. What she saw next vindicated the chill that pulsed through her.

Tim peeled a sterile plastic wrapper from a fresh syringe. A strong heart beat shook her veins. "Hey, wait a second! What are you doing?! What is that?!"

"This is an extra strength antihistamine. It's very quick and effective."

"Can't I just take a pill or something?"

"No, your allergies have progressed too far and we need to get them under control right away." Tim had heard the apprehension in her voice clearly, but he was still a little taken back when he turned to face her. Jessie's eyes were locked on the syringe, her paled face nearly ghastly against her black bangs. He slowly lowered it to his side, hoping it would seem less imposing. "Are you afraid of needles?" She looked at him, gripping the cot edge tightly again before lowering her gaze to the floor. "I'm not fond of them." she muttered.

Tim nodded. "It's okay. A lot of people hate getting shots." He approached her cautiously, her form recoiling with every step he took. "Is there anything I can do to help you calm down?"

"I am calm." she muttered again, quickly pushing up the sleeve of her left arm and looking away. Tim looked at her sympathetically as he gently disinfected her arm. She flinched as he did so, clenching her eyes tightly and gritting her teeth. He threw the alcohol soaked cotton ball in the trash and took off the needle's cover. "It'll just be a quick pinch . . ."

"Don't patronize me!" she hissed. "Just . . . get it over with."

"Right, I'm sorry." Tim quickly plunked in the needle. Jessie let out a small moan as it penetrated her skin but was otherwise still. Tim withdrew the syringe and tossed it, placing a bandage over her shot. "There. That wasn't so bad, was it?"

"Okay, you gave me the stupid shot." She rolled down her sleeve. "Can we go now?"

He nodded. "Let's go."

-----

The night wind was quick to strike that evening and Tim found himself shivering the moment the automated doors slid open. Jessie was unphased, walking straight into the thick of it. She stopped on the sidewalk of the parking lot, looking back and forth as Tim braved himself for the chilly air. "So, where's your car?" she asked.

"I don't have one. Don't you?"

Jessie gave him a sideways glance before walking into the lot. Tim followed, wondering if he had insulted her. "If I had one, it would be in Seattle." she responded.

"Seattle?"

"Yes, Seattle, I live there. I've just been assigned here temporarily."

"Wow . . ." Tim murmured. "So, then, you're saying you don't have a car in Seattle either, right?"

She stopped, casting him a glare to rival the cold evening. He felt, more than heard, himself begin to break into a stutter. "Uh, I'm sorry . . . I didn't mean to . ."

"Hurry up or we're going to miss the bus."

She walked off, leaving him in her wake before he regained composure and followed. She let out a pronounced sigh as they boarded and retrieved her bus pass from her pocket. "This bus fare is worse than my allergies." Jessie mumbled as she swiped it. Tim copied her actions and took a seat beside her. "At least this city is getting friendlier towards public commuters."

"Really?" She arched a brow. "Is that why I'm always sandwiched between two fat asses who never shower and pass gas every seven seconds?"

A hearty laugh escaped him. "Not this time, I hope."

"Well, you're not fat and you don't seem like the type to neglect basic hygiene. If you do have to fart, though, aim it away from me."

"Dooly noted." Tim chuckled.

His laughter died down as the bus hissed into motion. He looked out the window, watching the lights from various buildings and street posts sparkle against the evening's curtain. He saw Jessie move from the corner of his vision, leaning forward and resting her elbows on her knees. She placed her chin in both hands, seemingly engrossed with the moving scenery. "You know, I couldn't help but notice . . ." Tim started. She glanced at him, moving her head ever so slightly. "You're wearing a lab coat."

"Indeed I am." she responded, turning her gaze back to the window.

"You're a scientist."

She perked up slightly at that, lifting her chin from her hands and folding her arms over her knees. "Quick! Somebody give his man a cookie!"

"Ha ha, very funny, I just wanted to ask. What do you do for a living?"

"Well, why didn't you just ask, silly?"

"Silly?" He could not help but parrot as Jessie pushed herself upright.

"I'm an atmospheric researcher. I study how climate change is going to effect agriculture."

Tim raised his eyebrows. "Really? I never heard of a job like that."

"Yeah. Unfortunately, when people hear of meteorology, all they think about those weather forecasters on the news or storm chasers."

Jessie sat back and closed her eyes as a small yawn escaped her. Tim tucked his briefcase under his arm and leaned against his seat as well. "Hey, uh, Miss Niguel?"

"Mm?"

"I'm sorry if I was a little controlling back at the hospital."

"Don't worry about it." she slurred as she yawned again.

Jessie felt her head dip forward slightly, as if gravity were gently tugging at her bangs. She blinked her eyes as she pulled her head back up, shaking it slightly. Fatigue nibbled at her forehead and slowly frosted over her brain. She narrowed her eyes as her vision began to blur, forcing everything into focus. It was a futile attempt. Everything before her doubled and melted dizzyingly. She shut her eyes tightly, trying to grip at her surroundings as they slipped away.

Tim was startled by the sudden weight on his shoulder, even more so when he looked over and saw Jessie resting against him. A blush spread across his face and he froze, afraid that she would lash out at him if he made any sudden movements. Her breath was slow and deep, signaling that she had fallen asleep or, more appropriately, had passed out. "Crud . . ." Tim whispered.

The medication was known to make people drowsy. Lightweights appeared to be affected by the medication the most and as luck would have it, Jessie had fallen into that category. He doubted that she was in any mortal danger from an overdose, but Tim decided it would be a good idea to check her vitals; just in case. He placed his fingers on her neck and monitored her heart rate.

"Performing first aid on the lass, eh?"

"Ack!"

Tim jumped at the sudden voice and Jessie nearly fell from her seat. He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her against his body. Every inch of his face was stained scarlet as he looked up at a chuckling middle aged man that stood before the two, gripping onto an overhead support bar. "Thi-this young woman had received m-medication and I was . . . uh . . . checking her vitals to . . . rule out a p-possible overdose." Tim fumbled horribly. Fortunately, at this time of night the normally crowded buses would host only a few occupants. Unfortunately, it also made him an easy target for scrutiny. He could even feel the bus driver's eyes flicker upon him in the rear view mirror.

"Is that so, eh?" The man chuckled and stroked his beard. "You both work at a hospital?"

"Huh?" Tim looked down, recalling that he still had his nurse uniform on. "Oh . . . well, I do but she . . . she's a relative of one of the doctors there."

"Hm, and would this doctor approve of you holding her like that?"

It was only with a sputtered breath and an impossibly deeper shade of red on his face did he realize he was all but hugging the unconscious girl. He sank into his seat and attempted to situate her so that she would not fall to the floor, much to the amusement of the other bus patrons. This was going to be a long ride.

-----

Jessie groggily blinked her eyes open and shivered slightly. While the right side of her face was pressed against something warm, her left was exposed to the chilly evening wind. She heard footsteps just below her as the hiss of angry traffic pounced upon her senses. It did not take her very long to realize she was being carried, bridal style, by a man her foggy mind could not register.

Tim's first indication that Jessie had regained consciousness was the fist that cracked against his cheek bone. "Ah! Hey!" He recoiled from the hit, desperately tightening his hold on the girl so as not to drop her. Regretfully, that was met with fierce resistance and another punch to his face. "Let me go!" she yelled, squirming and flailing her way out of his grasp. She fell roughly on the sidewalk and quickly got to her feet as Tim stumbled backwards. Her muscles had not quite woken up yet and she nearly collapsed under her own weight. She hugged a light post for support as her head spun.

"Miss Niguel, it's okay! It's just me!"

Jessie turned towards the voice and saw Tim approach with his hands raised defensively. He allowed himself a petite gulp as she cast him a befuddled stare, thankful that the street was nearly abandoned. "F . . Ficsher . . ." she mumbled, shaking her head slightly. "What happened?"

"You fell asleep on the bus. I tried to wake you up, but you were out cold." he sighed. "I didn't think the side effects would be so strong. Are you all right?"

Jessie pressed a hand to her forehead and nodded slowly. As her world steadied, she did notice that the itching in her throat and eyes was gone. She also noticed the fist marks pulsing against the side of Tim's head. "I apologize . . . for hitting you. I didn't know where I was or . ."

"Don't worry about it. I should've been more careful. Can you walk?"

". . . Unngh . . I ."

Her grip on the light post slipped and her legs folded underneath her. Tim dove forward quickly and caught her, holding her steady. "Are you okay?" A pronounced groan poured from Jessie and her body trembled lightly. "Miss Niguel, can you hear me?"

"Eh . . . hey, watch the hands, Skipper . . ."

"Huh? Ah! I'm sorry!"

Tim quickly moved a hand to her waist, using his other to lift her arm over his shoulder. He forced his imminent blush down and slowly guided her to a bench. "This isn't normal. I'm going to have to take your blood pressure." He helped her sit down and began rummaging through his briefcase. Jessie leaned back and ran her fingers through her hair. "What the hell was that just now? I felt like I was waking up, and then I just . . ."

"The medicine is on time release. You probably got another shock of it running through your system just now, but the dosages will get progressively weaker."

"Time release? Through an injection? How is that possible?"

"Ask your brother. He's the one who made it."

Tim placed a sphygmomanometer and stethoscope on the bench beside her. Jessie pushed up her sleeve and smirked drowsily. "You always have your supplies on you?" He looked up at her as he placed the cuff around her arm. "You never know when you need it. Hold still, okay?" Tim proceeded to pump up the cuff and Jessie groaned slightly as it tightened uncomfortably. "I'm sorry, does that hurt?" She shook her head as her eyes closed tightly. A doleful pang bled within his chest as he monitored her pulse, moving to finish as quickly as possible. "Well, your blood pressure is good. When was the last time you ate?"

"Yesterday morning, around 5am I believe." Jessie breathed as the pressure on her arm was released.

Tim looked at her in surprise. "You haven't eaten in almost two days?!"

"Yeah, so?" She opened her eyes, meeting his disapproving gaze with a cool one. "I've been really busy and it's not like I'm emaciated. I'll live."

He sighed, shaking his head slightly. "Well, that explains why the side effects are so strong."

"As long as I don't die in my sleep, I'm content. Can you help me walk?"

Tim put his medical gear away and draped her arm around his shoulders. He cautiously placed his hand on her hip to steady her and when she did not protest, he relaxed. "If you insist," Tim was about to continue but was cut off when he felt her go limp in his hold. "H-hey! Don't faint on me again!" He quickly grabbed her torso and held her up with one arm, supporting her head with the other. Her head dipped forward and rested in the crook of his neck. The dormant blush came to the surface as he stood in the street, supporting the comatose girl against his body once again. "Ohh boy . . ." he grumbled as he gently shook her.

She stirred slightly, blinking her eyes open. Her head lifted weakly, their noses nearly brushing one another as she looked into his eyes. "You can . . . let me go now." she murmured drowsily. He swallowed his face's urge to turn crimson. He sheepishly peeled her away from his body and kept his hands on her shoulders to steady her. Her feet refused to support her weight and she crashed forward, throwing her arms around his neck to catch herself. "Okay, maybe I was wrong."

"Here, I'll carry you on my back." Tim knelt down and Jessie, too groggy to want to protest, tightened her grip on his neck and allowed him to hook his arms under her knees. He stood up once she was secure and walked on effortlessly. Jessie let out a chuckle in spite of herself. "This is kind of weird . . ."

"You think? I have to do this everyday. Patients are always passing out."

"You mean you carry people like this all the time?"

"Well, not the extra large patients. I get the gurney for them."

Jessie's chuckles slowly grew into strong laughter. "I . . . I'm sorry . . ."

"Eh? Don't be. I'm just doing my job."

"No . . it's not that . . . it's just that," she took a small breath, which was quickly propelled out by more laughter. "You're . . . you're like Yoshi . ."

"Yoshi? You mean the green dinosaur from the Mario games?"

"Yes! I'm sorry . . . I don't know why it's funny . . but . . ."

Tim gave a nervous chuckle at her laughing fit. The medicine has really gone to her head.

-----

By the time they had reached the hospital, Jessie had calmed down and was a bit more composed. She directed Tim to Victor's room, seemingly oblivious to the stares they were receiving, even as they walked into the elevator and she pressed the floor button. He growled slightly when the doors closed and prompted a query of whispers. Tim suspected that, for his own sake, it would be best if Jessie continued on under her own power. He had a feeling that Victor would be less than thrilled if he walked in his with disoriented sister riding piggy back. The elevator dinged and the doors hissed open. Tim was all too happy to exit and breathed a sigh as the doors closed behind them, cutting off the obnoxious murmurs from within. "Can you make it from here?"

"Yeah . . . I think so. I might need some help, though."

Tim knelt down and Jessie carefully slipped from his back, her arms still gripped around his neck. He helped steady her and her legs finally decided to co-operate. Her arm was still hooked around his neck for balance, but slowly and surely, she was walking again. "By the way, thanks . . . for helping me get here and treating my allergies." she muttered, tripping slightly. He caught her and helped her back up. "It was my pleasure." he grinned. She gave him a sideways glance. "Hm. A request."

"Request? Sure . . . what did you have in mind?"

"Everything that happened from the bus to here is between us. I would really rather not have anyone I know hear about it, though we'll have to come up with an explanation for that." She lazily pointed at his face.

Tim gently touched the forming bruises. "Leave that to me."

"There it is; second door on the left."

The door in question was wide open. Light from within spilled generously onto the floor, canvassing a flowing set of shadows. "But that's just the way it turned out." Tim perked up slightly at the strong, but notably feminine, voice that sounded from the room. "Hey, that's Dr. Myers!" he said in whispered excitement. "I didn't know she transferred to this hospital." They stopped just outside the room and Jessie released him from her arm. She swayed slightly and pressed a hand to the wall. "Can you make it?" he whispered.

"Yeah, no problem." She slowly let her fingers up from the wall, swaying again but otherwise managing to stay upright. "Let's go."

Just as she attempted to walk unassisted, vertigo decided Jessie was not quite ready to actually put her feet into motion. It reared back, sucker punching her in the back of the head and sending her pitching forward. Her hand grasped out, squeezing firmly around Tim's wrist. He turned towards her and was ready to catch her once again, leaving him unprepared when she crashed directly into his chest.

Victor and Cybil looked up from their card game as the pair tumbled through the door and landed in a less than dignified heap on the ground. "What the hell was that?" he asked, looking towards the former police woman. She placed her deck faced down on the table and got to her feet just as their visitors began to pick themselves up. "Jessie! Nurse Ficsher! Took you two long enough."

"What the . . . ? Ficsher!?"

Tim felt his insides grow cold. If Victor's tone was any indication, he was just a wrong breath way from a bladeless castration. He picked himself up and helped Jessie to her feet, hoping he looked a lot calmer than he felt, though he had a feeling that was a hopeless wish. Victor's evil eye bore into his flesh and it only seemed to intensify as Jessie toppled into his arms. "Are you two all right?" Cybil asked as she moved in to help them. "What in the world happened?"

"More importantly, what are you doing to my sister?"

"Eh, well . . ." Tim's throat clenched up as scarlet bled through his face for what felt like the hundredth time that night. He rubbed the back of his neck, attempting to distract himself from the snarl Victor was forming. "You see . . . it's ah . ."

"It's my fault." Jessie murmured, gently pushing herself out of Tim's arms. "I tripped and pushed him. That's why we made such a graceful entrance." She pushed down a groan and pressed a hand to her forehead. Victor's angry expression was quick to melt away. "Are you okay, Jessie?"

"Y-yes, I just . . . I think I hit my head when we fell . . ugh . . . I need to sit down."

She weakly made her way towards the chair near Victor's bed. Tim took a split second to debate whether he would want to hold her risk and having Victor remove his intestines, or if he should save his own skin and allow Jessie to trip again. Being a man of integrity, the answer was obvious. He just hoped that he would be able to shield his vital organs long enough for Cybil to come in and save him. As it turned out, she did save him, though a little preemptively on her part. She grabbed his sleeve just before he made his chivalrous (and possibly fatal) move. "You have fresh bruises on your face."

"Huh?" he stuttered slightly. "Oh, yeah, I had some trouble back at Caduceus before we left. Another delirious patient."

"Again?" she sighed. "You're going to need an ice pa – Jessie!"

Tim cursed himself for allowing Jessie to leave his grasp. Her arms dangled limply at her sides, indicating that she would not be able to catch herself from her face first freefall. He reared back, ready to launch his body into a sprint. Hopefully, he would be able to keep her from bloodying up her nose or mouth. His desperate run was aborted as a startled jump overtook him. Frighteningly swift movements left him paralyzed, but relieved as she fell into another person's arms.

Neither he nor Cybil had ever seen Victor move that quickly. The bed sheets, side table and everything else unfortunate enough to be caught in his path was left toppled, ruffled or in basic ruins. The small path of destruction cast an odd contrast to the scene, as Victor gently cradled his sister in his arms. "Jessie?" he whispered, his voice unusually strained. He shook her lightly but she did not as much as stir. "Victor, take it easy! You're still very ill!" Cybil commanded. She moved in quickly and knelt beside the siblings, taking out a penlight to check Jessie's eyes. It was then that she noticed a good amount of blood running down the back of Victor's hand. She sucked in a quick breath; Victor had literally ripped his IV out.

Tim had moved in as well, his footsteps starting out at a strong and professional pace, but quickly fading to timid pads. He had never seen the head of pathological research wear such an expression before. When Victor's teeth were clenched and his eyes were narrowed, it was usually a means to hold back an overwhelming flood of anger and frustration rather than harbor vivid worry. Yet, it was only when his grimaces were powered by the more familiar emotion did Tim slow to a pause. It was also when an anguished glare shot at him that he suddenly felt like a sheep caught in a slaughter house.

"What did you do to her?" Victor growled, putrid hate clawing from his throat. The blood trickling down his fingers did not exactly ease matters.

Oh . . . super crud . . .

Tim opened his mouth but found his voice impossible to find. It was strange. He had been in worse situations than this while working at Caduceus, even going so far as to inform families that a loved one did not survive treatment. Yet, it was hard to remain composed when it felt like he could be killed in the blink of an eye. "Victor!" Cybil cut in. "You know Tim would never do something like this!"

"She's going to be okay, Dr. Niguel!" Tim gasped. "Just let me . . ."

"Ficsher!" He hugged Jessie to him protectively, getting to his feet and inching away as Tim drew near. "Get back, Ficsher! I won't let you hurt her!"

"I didn't . . .!"

"Victor, calm down! You're still running a high temperature!"

He refused to heed them, continuing his slow retreat until his back pressed against the wall. "This isn't helping Jessie!" Cybil said, approaching him cautiously. Victor narrowed his eyes as his surroundings began to bleed. "N-no . . . keep him . . . uh . ." He felt himself sliding down the wall. He clenched his eyes shut, trying to block out the dizzying spin of the room.

"Victor! Dammit, stay with me!"

"Dr. Niguel!"

He tightened his hold on his sister, focusing on her warmth as everything else slipped away. "Don't . . . hurt . .her . ."

"Victor!"

-----

His burning forehead greedily drank up the chilled caress.

Victor heard a moan well before he realized it had come from his lips. He pursed them in a feeble attempt to stop the noises as he blinked his eyes open. Cybil stared down at him, pressing what felt like a wet wash cloth to his brow. "You know, I really oughta slap you senseless."

"Is that a promise . . .?" he murmured.

Her eye twitched. "It's becoming one."

He heard quiet footsteps from the corner of the room as someone turned in place. "Has Dr. Niguel regained consciousness?"

" . . . Ficsher . . .?" Victor scanned his small field of vision dizzyingly. "What is he . . ?" His slurred words were brought to an immediate hush as Cybil pressed down on his chest. "Victor, you will remain calm. Do you hear me?" He blinked at her.

"What are you talking about?"

Tim slowly approached the bedside. "You don't remember?" he asked, allowing himself a small gulp.

"Remember wha-?" The sweltering mist was cast away before his eyes. Cybil caught the sudden flicker in them, quickly holding his shoulders down. "Jessie! Where is she?" He struggled to free himself from her grasp, his strength quickly burned away by his fevered body.

"She's fine, Victor." Cybil said. She had hoped he would relax after hearing that. On the contrary, his frustrations only seemed to be fueled further as he clenched his eyes shut. A strained growl pushed through his teeth. "Where is she, dammit?"

"She's right here, sleeping."

Victor opened his eyes when he felt Cybil slip an arm behind his back and help him into a sitting position. Tim moved, giving him an uneasy smile as he directed Victor's gaze to a cot by the window. True to the doctor's word, Jessie was sleeping peacefully.

"She had shown up at Caduceus with severe allergic symptoms." Tim explained. "I treated her with our standard antihistamine and she reacted well, a little too well."

Victor glared at him. "What do you mean?"

"She said she hadn't eaten in almost 48 hours. Her low blood sugar level caused her to experience severe drowsiness."

"What?" He looked over at his sister. "Dammit, Jessie . . ."

"Her eating habits remind me of a certain someone." Cybil said, smirking. Victor swallowed at that and looked away. She had been the one to treat him back at Caduceus, when he had passed out after fasting for three days.

"We checked her blood pressure and vitals; they're all normal. Her heart and lungs sound good too." Tim announced.

"You really should thank Nurse Ficsher, Victor. He took good care of her all the way from Caduceus to here. Not only that, but he helped me treat you as well."

Victor clenched the sheets in his hands, lowering his eyes to stare at them and the blood stains on his IV bandage. "Yeah . . . I know . . ."

"He could have left hours ago, but he wanted to stay and help me take care of the both of you . . ."

"All right! I get it! I was a jerk!" He gritted his teeth and hissed. "Geez . . . you don't have to twist the knife that much . . ."

"You weren't a jerk, Dr. Niguel." Tim said. "You were just scared for your sister. I understand."

"Eh . . ." Victor eased himself against the pillows. He was getting dizzy again. "Hey . . . Tim?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks . . . for everything . . . I know you would've never hurt her. I don't know what came over me."

"Don't worry about it. I already told you, I understand." Tim grinned. "I've got a little sister too. I think I would've acted the same way if I was in your position."

"Well, since you boys have made up, I'm going to call it a night." Cybil ran her hand through her hair, yawning slightly. "Get some sleep, Victor. We don't need you getting any sicker than you already are. You get some rest too, Tim."

Cybil left and Tim pulled up a chair in the far corner of the room. "If you don't mind, I'm going to stay a little longer, just to keep an eye on . . . uh . ."

"Yeah, you do that." Victor murmured. Fatigue had assaulted him and he found himself slave to his bed sheets. "But don't think I've let my guard down, Ficsher. She's still my sister and if I catch you so much as thinking about her the wrong way . . ."

"Horrible pain and suffering await me. I get it." Tim leaned back in the seat, collapsing into the chair's arms. He yawned and closed his eyes, ready to succumb to slumber himself . . . "Hey, wait a second!"

He shot up, his hands biting fiercely into the arm rests. "Y-you don't think . . . we were . . . I mean, Jessie and I . . . nothing happened . . . we aren't . . . I'm not . . that is . . . I don't think she . . ."

"Shut up, Tim."

"Oh," He felt the tension fluttered from him as Victor pulled his sheets over his head. Tim watched the doctor settle himself into a comfortable position under the blanket and he soon followed suit, melting into his chair. "Goodnight to you too, Dr. Niguel."

-----

Jessie woke slowly, curling up under her covers and burying her face into her pillow. She was usually not one for lazy behavior, but that morning she found the urge to stay in bed irresistible. She listened to the birds outside through closed eyes, taking in an easy breath. Her hay fever was completely gone, a thought that she indulged until a new one took its place.

She had no freaking clue where she was.

Her eyes opened with a startled gasp and she sat up quickly. Throwing off her blanket, she was relieved to see that she was still fully clothed, right down to her shoes. She took in a sigh and began scanning her surroundings. Her heart skipped slightly as her eyes came to rest upon Tim's sleeping form. He was slumped over in a chair next to the opposite wall, snoring lightly.

So I wasn't dreaming . . .

Her fingers squeezed the blanket in her hand. She looked down at the soft material then back up at the slumbering nurse. A smirk flashed across her face just long enough for her to make a small scoff. She eased herself off the cot and approached him, quietly draping the blanket over his shoulders. "Peh . . . men." she whispered. She pulled the blanket over to the front of his body, making sure he was snuggly wrapped in it, when a puff of his warm breath tickled her hand. A hint of a blush swept her cheeks before she quietly cleared her throat. With Tim properly protected from the cold, she turned towards a second snoring sound.

Victor was fast asleep. Jessie frowned slightly when she noticed a trace of blood on the bandage around his IV, but that quickly faded when she saw the case file sitting on the table beside him. The very thing she had gone through so much trouble to bring him rested undisturbed and unopened. He had kept his promise. She gently brushed his bangs back and kissed him on the temple. "Thank you . . ." she whispered, pleased when he continued sleeping restfully. She pulled back and a wall clock ticked in the corner of her vision. She looked at it, curious as to the time.

It was seven fifteen.

The blood drained from her face.

Crap! I'm going to be late for work!

She located her briefcase quickly and checked her pockets, making sure she still had her keys and bus pass on her. She slipped her bag strap over her shoulder and quietly left the room, breaking into a sprint once she reached the hallway. Running was a bit of a hobby for Jessie. It started as something she did out of pure boredom and quickly became a regular routine of hers. Aside from being a great way to stay in shape and release stress, she found it helpful in times she needed to seriously . . . well. . . haul ass. She took to the stairwell and flew down the steps, her versatile frame and quick reflexes allowing her to avert various people and obstacles in the lobby.

She took in a breath of the crisp morning air when she reached the parking lot, using her now cleared lungs to further power her run. The bus taunted her at the end of the lot and hissed in threatening departure. She narrowed her eyes and called her speed forth, launching herself into a mild leap through the closing bus doors. "Gah!" The driver nearly leapt out of his skin as Jessie came crashing through, panting slightly. With a shaking hand, she swiped her bus pass and made her way towards the back of the vehicle, ignoring the stares of the other passengers and plopping down. Being the normal morning commute that it was, her seat was sure to be taken up by her favorite patrons very quickly. She allowed herself this chance to stretch out.

Something rattled quietly in her bag as she stretched her arms over her head. She blinked, casting it a perplexed look. She recalled hearing the noise during her desperate sprint from the hospital but had been too preoccupied to care what was causing it. She rummaged through one of the front pockets on her bag, finding a small box. A rubber band hugged a folded piece of paper to it. She slid it off, not knowing whether to laugh or snort at what she saw. "Non-drowsy Benadryl . . . someone's being a smartass." she mumbled. She placed the box in her pocket and unfolded the paper, reading the note within.

Miss Niguel,

Take one of these if the symptoms start to return. Considering your previous dosage, this should be more than enough to keep you from having another reaction. Also, do yourself a favor and eat something. I mean it. You don't want to end up in the hospital for malnourishment, do you?

I'm really glad we had the chance to meet and well, if it's not too much, perhaps we can meet again before you go back to Seattle? Just for a drink, or dinner or something . . . my treat.

Timothy "Yoshi" Ficsher

P.S. Thanks for the new nickname. I'm sure my co-workers will get a good laugh out of it, but I promise not to tell them where it came from.

Jessie shook her head, smiling, as she placed the note in her pocket. "Oh, Timothy, I sincerely hope you're not hitting on me." She propped her head on her hand and starred out the window, watching the buildings as they flew by. Her hand tingled slightly from where Tim's rogue breath had touched it. Another blush burned against her palm. "Aw, what the hell? Who am I to turn down a free drink?"

-----

A/N: Let me just take a moment to say that the Cybil chapter was Commander Maryjo's idea and everyone else seemed to back it up. Everyone, give Maryjo a collective thanks for that chapter. Now that credit has been given where credit is due -

Odd help me, I've just created a chapter starring my two original characters. This is pretty unusual, for me anyway. Points for anyone who can guess what book Victor was reading. In regards to the Garfield poster, when I end up going to the doctor, they've got little cartoons like that on the ceiling just above the exam tables. A nice little distraction if you have to undergo a rather, uh, demanding examination.

Sorry if I make Victor a little too overprotective of Jessie, but the thought of him ripping off someone's head for simply looking at her the wrong way amuses me to no end.

Okay, I'm going to take a bit of a break from Illness because I really want to start updating Paying the Price. I didn't think I was going to make the deadline for the fanfiction contest, but I did so yeah for that.

Please tell me what you thought of my obnoxious original characters. I'm eager to see how they are received and maybe they'll show up in a few more fictions if they get positive feedback.

And now, for my ultra super paranoid disclaimer of DOOM!

Disclaimer: Victor Niguel, Cybil Myers, Stephen Clarks and Leslie Sears are characters owned by Atlus. Jessie Darlene Niguel, Timothy Ficsher and Marianne Rangel are characters I created based off of Trauma Center. Yoshi and Mario belong to Nintendo. Garfield is owned by Jim Davis.