Chapter 6

Mark stepped off the elevator (at the opposite end of the hall) just in time to see Steve pull his right fist out of the wall. He called out a warning for his patient to stop...but it was too late. Wires were sparking from a gash in Steve's lower arm, but fire was flashing in his eyes...and anger in his heart. When he'd punched the wall, Jaime had screamed, burst into tears...and buried her face in Michael's shoulder, too afraid to look.

Steve's right arm began to spasm uncontrollably but he stormed into the room and pulled Michael away from the bed with his left, tossing him aside and drawing back his left fist when he found his right wouldn't obey him.

''NO!'' Jaime cried.

''Steve - stop!'' Mark called out, flying into the room and pulling a stunned Michael out of the way.

Steve swung and missed, his left fist slamming into the wall. The sound (and the dent in the wall that had very nearly been in Michaels head) brought a whimper of sheer terror and fresh sobs from Jaime. Steve sank down on the bed beside her...and she shrank away from him.

''Don't...touch...me...'' she cried brokenly. When Steve reached for her, Jaime eyed his fists - one still emitting sparks from the wrist and the other clearly fractured - and she jumped from the bed and rushed toward the safety of Mark and Michael. She cowered behind them...and Mark could see that she was fighting off the throes of a flashback.

''I hope you're happy, Marchetti,'' Steve growled, his eyes glaring bullets at his perceived rival.

Jaime shook her head, still coherent enough to hear him and respond. ''Michael didn't...do this...you did!'' Both doctors turned to comfort her - and it was more than Steve could bear. With a rage hot enough that he didn't feel the pain, Steve drew back his broken left fist again and dove toward Michael...just as Security began flooding the room. Someone had pushed the silent alarm. The guards' weapons were drawn - but not necessary. Mark used the momentary distraction to plunge a needle into Steve's arm.

''You're a coward,'' Steve snarled at Michael. ''Making moves on my wife and then not even able to face the consequences!''

''Michael didn't...call them,'' Jaime sobbed. ''I did.'' Steve glanced back into the room as he was being led away and saw his wife being helped back to the bed...in Michael's arms.

Steve was fighting the effects of the sedative, but because of the presence of Security he remained in the bed where they'd put him - on a different floor in another wing of the hospital from where Jaime was still being comforted by Mark...and Michael. Rudy had quickly checked on Jaime, notified Oscar (mandatory, since Security had been called) and then rushed across the hospital to tend to Steve.

''Steve,'' he began sadly, ''what have you done?'' Rudy had no choice but to administer a second sedative.

''I want Michael off Jaime's case,'' Steve insisted, still refusing to give in to the medications' effects. ''I don't want him anywhere near her!''

''I'm afraid that's not possible,'' Rudy told him.

''I'm her...husband!'' (His eyelids were getting awfully heavy...)

''Jaime specifically requested that he stay on board,'' was the last thing Steve heard before the meds finally took effect.

Mark looked from Jaime to Michael and back again, trying to figure out what had happened. (It clearly wasn't the time to question either one of them.) Jaime was still on the threshold of a flashback, trembling with the effort it was taking to hold it back - and with the new trauma she'd just endured. Michael sat beside the bed, stroking her hand in an attempt to 'ground' her (and offer her some comfort) but Mark read nothing on Michael's face other than professional concern. He'd been reading over Jaime's newest test results (including Michael's notes) when Rudy had paged him, and while Mark's specialty was not medicine, it was obvious that Jaime's condition - whatever it was - would not benefit from the added stress.

Mark thought back to the warning he'd given Steve, that he stood to lose his wife if he didn't control his anger and jealousy. Now, less than 24 hours later, Jaime had felt she had no other choice but to call Security on her own husband. It was unclear what would happen to Steve (or whether any charges would be pursued by Michael or by the hospital) but even murkier was what sort of damage might have been done to the Austins' marriage.

Jaime looked over at the dent in the wall, then at each of her two doctors in turn, her gaze coming to rest on Michael's face. ''I can't believe...he did that...'' she whispered. ''I...I'm so sorry...''

''You're not responsible for Steve's actions,'' Michael told her gently.

It was a side of her husband that Jaime had never seen before. She knew it had been no flashback; he'd called Michael by name. She wouldn't have believed Steve was capable of such blind rage...and the thought that she might have driven him to it (however unintentionally) was crushing. The pain came slowly, like a tide that rolls gradually toward shore, then hit Jaime's head full force like a tidal wave. She sat up, alarm and fear splashed across her face and just as suddenly, her eyes rolled back in her head and Jaime slumped back onto the pillow...out cold.