Victims part two

by Guardian

Amanda went to visit Jesse that lunchtime. She knocked lightly on the door before poking her head in, a bright smile on her face. What she saw momentarily stopped her dead in her tracks.
Jesse was sitting on his bed, hugging his knees to his chest, with tears streaming down his cheeks. Overcoming her shock at seeing him like that, Amanda rushed over to him.
"Oh Jesse, honey," she sat next to him and put on arm around his shoulders. "Whatever's wrong?"
Jesse didn't even acknowledge her. He was rocking slightly and his eyes were unfocussed, staring off into the distance.
"Jesse, please." Again, Amanda tried to get through to him. "Sweetheart, tell me what's wrong."
But there was still no sign that Jesse had even heard her. Amanda looked towards the door, desperate to fetch help, but unwilling to leave her friend alone in such a state. The problem was solved for her in no time, as Mark entered the room, looking grim.
"Mark, thank God," she sighed, her relief unmistakable. "He was like this when I got here."
"It's alright, Amanda, I know what's wrong with him. I'm going to have to get him sedated, then I'll explain."
"Stop talking about me like I'm not here!" Without warning, Jesse had come out of his stupor and began to rant at them. "You're always doing that. You always gang up on me, making me do things I don't wanna do. I bet you wish he'd killed me."
Amanda had instinctively tightened her grip on the young man and she murmured soothing words to him, as Mark approached him with a hypodermic needle. She kept this up as the sedative began to take effect, then waited until his breathing became slow and regular before lowering him back onto the bed.
"What's going on, Mark?" she asked, when she was sure that Jesse was asleep.
"You know when Jesse picked up that infection? Well, for some reason, Doctor Morton chose to prescribe him myzephomine."
"I've never heard of it."
"No, you wouldn't have. It's new to the market under that name. It was withdrawn last year under a different name, due to adverse side effects, including mood swings and severe depression, leading to an unacceptable number of suicides."
"My God."
"I knew that it had been re-launched, but I never knew that it was in stock at this hospital. I'll make damned sure it isn't from now on."
"But what was Doctor Morton thinking? He must have known of the dangers."
"I'm sure he did. But I also know that Benson Labs has invested an awful lot of money into this project. I've got a feeling that would include generous incentives for doctors willing to run the drugs trials."
"That's terrible. You can't just experiment with people's lives like that. Poor Jesse."
"Well, the good news is that he's been taking it for less than two days. I dread to think what would have happened if he'd taken the whole course."
"What are you going to do?" Amanda asked, looking down at her sleeping friend. At that moment, she couldn't see any good news in Jesse's situation.
"I'm going to keep him under for a while." Mark answered, following her gaze. "At least long enough for the drugs to start working their way out of his system. Then I'm going to have a long talk with Philip Morton.

*****

Mark was exhausted by the time he got home that night. It had been a traumatic day. His confrontation with Philip Morton had been brief, but intense. Mark had effectively sacked him from Community General and warned him that his conduct would be investigated by the Medical Council. He fully expected the man never to practise medicine again.
He didn't like having to do that, but Jesse had suffered greatly at his hands. Even now, his young friend was still sleeping under the influence of sedatives.
But, no matter how tired he was, Mark knew that his day was not yet over. There was one more thing he had to do.
"Steve, can you come up here?" he called and was rewarded moments later by the sound of his son's footsteps on the stairs.
Mark sat down on the couch and waited until Steve had sat next to him.
"Son, I need to talk to you about Jesse." Mark was dismayed to see Steve's face cloud over at the mention of his friend's name. "I need you to tell me exactly what happened at the hospital today."
"I don't want to talk about it."
"Steve, please. It is important."
Steve didn't answer for a long moment. In truth, he was surprised by just how much Jesse's words had hurt him. It didn't matter that they had been spoken in anger, it was the fact that they had been spoken at all. He had thought that he and Jesse were best friends, but if the doctor could really think such things of him, then maybe it was time to re-evaluate that friendship.
"He accused me of taking bribes." Steve looked at his dad and was unable to keep the hurt out of his eyes.
"Oh no." Mark closed his eyes briefly. "Steve, you have to understand that none of this is Jesse's fault. He was prescribed a drug that..."
"It doesn't matter." Steve spoke softly and kept his gaze fixed on the carpet.
"What? I can see that you're still angry with him." Mark leaned forward intently. "But Jesse had no control of his emotions. The mood swings, the depression, the irrational anger, they were all side-effects of the drug. He didn't know what he was saying. Give him the chance to apologise."
"I don't want an apology. What I want is for him never to have said it."
"It's too late for that, son. Jesse's going to know that he's hurt you and he's really going to hate himself for it. He's been through a lot and he doesn't need this on top of everything else. At least talk to him. Please."
"That's just the problem," Steve sighed. "I don't know if I can."
"Steve..."
"Don't you see? This has nothing to do with a bad reaction to some drugs. It's Jesse we're talking about here and he would never say something like that, no matter what." He looked at Mark with infinite sadness. "Not unless some part of him, however small, believed it was true."
Steve ended the conversation then by getting up and going back downstairs, closing the door firmly behind him. Mark stared after him in shocked silence, wondering how on Earth he was going to resolve this.

*****

"So, does Steve completely despise me?"
It had been more than twenty-four hours since Jesse had stopped taking the myzephomine and he was getting back towards being his normal self. He still suffered some residual depression but, that morning, Mark knew that the desolation in his tone had nothing to do with the drugs.
Mark had known that this conversation was inevitable, but that didn't make it any easier. He sat down next to his friend's bed.
"Jesse," he began. "Steve wouldn't tell me exactly what it was that you said to him. Only that it was something about bribes."
"I accused him of being on Gianni De Marco's payroll and said that was why nobody had ever been prosecuted for Chloe Parker's death." Jesse spoke quietly and without looking at the other man. "Christ, Mark. How could I have been so stupid?"
"Now, Jesse, that wasn't you talking. You were under the influence of a very dangerous drug. Steve knows that and he'll also know that you didn't mean it. You just have to give him time."
"I can't believe it," Jesse whispered and Mark knew that his words had done nothing to reassure him. "Steve was just doing what Steve always does, trying to help somebody. How could I attack him like that?"
"Jess..."
"How is the kid? The little girl?" he frowned, knowing that Mark had told him her name, but some of his memory was still a little blurry.
"Bethany," Mark supplied, seeing his struggle. "Well, they've started her treatment and she's responding reasonably well, but it's going to be a long, hard battle. She wasn't in the most sanitary of environments."
"And her dad? The guy who shot me?"
"Kim Ho." Mark made a mental note of Jesse's inability to remember those names. Hopefully it was just an after-effect of the drug and would cure itself. At worst, Jesse's subconscious could be blocking those memories, effectively distancing him from people he might otherwise be sympathetic of. "Steve's still working on that. He's meeting with the DA tomorrow."
"Tell him..." Jesse looked pleadingly at the older man. "Tell him I'll do whatever it takes. You know, if it will make things better."
"Jesse, if you're going to speak on behalf of Kim Ho, then you have to do it for the right reasons. You have to do it because you believe it's the right thing to do. Not just because you want to make up with Steve."
"But.."
"This isn't a decision you can make lightly. Take some time to think about it. Ask yourself why you're doing it. Then we'll talk again later, okay?"
Jesse nodded, recognising the wisdom of his mentor's words. Mark stood up to leave, but Jesse caught his arm.
"Tell him I'm sorry."
"He knows, Jesse. I promise you, he knows."

*****

The very nature of Steve's work meant that he was unable to avoid the hospital completely. That afternoon, on his way to see the DA, he'd had to call by and pick up an autopsy report from Amanda. Then the young pathologist had effectively bullied him into taking her to lunch.
They sat in a quiet corner of the hospital canteen and Amanda studied the detective as he ate.
"What?" he asked eventually, uncomfortable under her scrutiny.
"Jesse's getting better," she replied in a neutral voice.
"That's good news." Steve suddenly found his plate of pasta completely fascinating.
"You could always go and see for yourself."
"No."
"So, are you going to tell me why?"
Steve sighed and laid down his fork. He wanted nothing more than to escape this conversation, but knew that Amanda wouldn't let it go that easily.
"How much has dad told you?"
"Only that Jesse said something cruel to you, but that it was while he was sick. What's going on, Steve? You know Jesse would never..."
"That's the problem, Amanda. I know Jesse too well and for him to say what he did..." He trailed off, shaking his head.
"What could be so bad? You know he was having a drugs reaction. You should have seen him, it was awful. Those drugs really messed with his mind."
"I keep telling myself that, but it doesn't change anything. Even under the influence of drugs, I can't believe that Jesse would think me capable of taking bribes."
Amanda opened her mouth to respond, but Steve never gave her the chance.
"Don't Amanda," he warned her. "Don't tell me that he didn't mean it."
"But you know he didn't."
"Do I? If you'd have been there, Amanda. If you'd have seen his contempt, not just for me, but for everything that I stand for..." He trailed off, shaking his head. "He knew exactly what he was saying. And he meant every word."

*****

"I've thought about what you said, Mark and you were right." It was later in the afternoon and Jesse and Mark were once again talking about Kim Ho. "I don't know if I can do it. I don't know if I want to."
"That's understandable."
"Look at what he's put me through. Not only the shooting, but then Doctor Morton. And now Steve. How can I just let him walk away?"
Mark could see that Jesse was still trying to justify his decision and so said nothing, not wanting to influence him in any way.
"I mean, I know it wouldn't be constructive for... him to be locked up." Again, Mark noticed his unwillingness to use his attacker's name. "But he has to be punished. I know there were extenuating circumstances, but he shot me, Mark. Am I such a bad person not to want to forgive him?"
"No, Jesse, you're not." Mark had to respond to the anguish in his voice. "You're human. It's perfectly understandable to feel like that."
"Steve's not going to see it that way though, is he?"
"Don't you worry about Steve. I'll explain to him." Mark injected confidence into his tone, even though he was not at all sure what his son's reaction would be.
"Can't you ask him to come here? I want to explain for myself. I need to talk to him. To apologise."
"Steve's really busy at the moment..."
"Don't, Mark. Don't lie to me. You mean he's still mad."
"Yeah, he's still mad," Mark admitted, ruefully. "But he will calm down, just give him time."

*****

Mark tried to talk to Steve over breakfast the next morning. He wanted to try and make Steve understand why Jesse had come to the decision that he had. He most certainly didn't want this driving a wedge any further between them. Unfortunately, the talk did not go well.
"Forget it, dad," Steve snapped, barely giving Mark the chance to begin his explanation. "I had a feeling he was going to do this."
"It's not a decision he came to lightly," Mark argued. "You have to try and look at this from Jesse's point of view."
"I am. Jesse's a doctor, he's supposed to have empathy and compassion. But no, all he wants to do is lock the kid up and throw away the key."
"That's not very fair..."
"I'm not being fair?" The moment that Steve flared up, Mark knew that he'd lost. "How fair is Jesse being to Kim Ho? He's thirteen, with a sick baby. That's what's not fair."
"Steve, you have to remember that Jesse has never even met these people. He's not as emotionally involved as you are."
"I am not emotionally involved. I'm just trying to do the right thing here."
Forsaking the rest of his breakfast, Steve grabbed his jacket and stormed out of the house.

*****

Later that day, Steve sat in his car, stuck in traffic. He was on his way to the DA's office and was determined that, even without Jesse's help, he would do his best for Kim Ho.
The traffic was driving him mad, barely moving at a crawl and the inactivity was giving him way too much time to think. He was also getting angrier by the minute, both at himself and at Jesse.
He had always loved being a cop and had never before doubted either his ability or his integrity. Jesse had changed all of that. Those words had stung him. He'd tried to shrug them off, telling himself all of the reasons for his friend's behaviour, but they kept coming back until he was starting to believe that at least a part of what he'd said was true.
"He died because he didn't believe in justice and he was right."
There was no justice. Chloe and Kenny Parker had died for nothing. And now, when Jesse so badly needed that faith in the justice system to be restored, Steve was trying to take it away from him. He hadn't even had the chance to explain why.
Steve glanced out of the window. Traffic going in the other direction was flowing smoothly. Coming to a sudden decision, he pulled a completely illegal U-turn and headed back towards the hospital.

*****

"Jesse, wake up. I need to talk to you."
The young doctor blinked groggily, as he realised that someone was shaking him. Then full awareness returned and he stiffened as he recognised both the voice and the face of Philip Morton. Instinctively, he reached towards the call button, but Morton was too quick for him and easily caught hold of his wrist.
"Don't, please. Just listen to what I have to say."
Jesse nodded warily, but didn't relax his guard. Morton had closed all of the blinds and shut the door. There were no witnesses to their conversation. Without being invited, Morton sat on the edge of the bed.
"I only came back to apologise." The older man seemed sincere, but Jesse's gaze was still distrustful. "What I did was unforgivable. It must have been awful for you."
"It was."
"I can only say how sorry I am and try to explain my reasons. When Benson Labs approached me, I never intended to test their damned drug. I knew what it used to be, it's reputation."
"You knew?" Jesse stared at him disbelievingly. "You knew what it was capable of and you still..."
"Please, hear me out. Last year I got into some trouble, financially. I won't go into the details, but I lost everything. My wife, my home. I just needed to get back on my feet and Benson labs..."
"You did it for money? I can't believe that. Is that supposed to make it alright?" Jesse shook his head. Some of his memories of his time under the influence of myzephomine were sketchy, but still incredibly painful. "What you put me through..."
"Listen, I was desperate, you have to understand that. I made a mistake, that's all. It could happen to anyone. How was I supposed to know you were going to have such a bad reaction? But you're alright now. No lasting harm was done."
Jesse listened, absolutely dumbfounded. No lasting harm. He remembered the look on Steve's face the last time he had seen him. He wanted to yell at the man, to tell him exactly what his precious drug had cost him, but he couldn't find the words.
"Jesse, that's what I want to talk to you about," Morton continued. "I've severed all ties with Benson Labs. I'll never do anything like that again, but I need another chance. Doctor Sloan is going to report me to the Medical Council. That's going to cost me my licence. I love being a doctor, Jesse. I don't know what I'll do if they stop me from practising medicine. Will you talk to him, please? Get him to change his mind."
"No." Jesse shook his head, appalled by what he was hearing. "What you did was... And it wasn't just me, was it? Mark said that there were half a dozen of your patients on that drug. What were they doing, paying you by the head?"
"It wasn't like that..."
"I don't care what it was like. You're supposed to be a doctor, you're supposed to prevent suffering, not cause it."
Morton grabbed hold of Jesse's wrist again and his grip was painfully tight. He leaned in closer to him.
"Get Doctor Sloan to change his mind." Any pretence at politeness was gone from his tone. "You don't want me as an enemy."
"Are you threatening me?"
"Oh yes, Doctor Travis. You'd better believe that I am."

*****

When Steve got to the hospital, he headed straight to Jesse's room, fully intending to have a long talk with his friend and at least try to clear the air between them. What he found when he got there forced him to put those plans on hold.
Jesse was sprawled across his bed, his eyes closed and his face pale. Sweat stood out on his forehead and one hand clutched at his chest.
"Oh my God, Jesse!" Steve ran over to his stricken friend. It looked like he was having a heart attack.
A quick check showed Steve that he was breathing, but his pulse was racing. Steve stabbed repeatedly at the call button. When nobody immediately came, he ran back to the door. As luck would have it, he spotted his father at the nurse's station.
"Dad! Help me! It's Jesse!"
He was back at his friend's side in an instant, with Mark not far behind him, trailing two nurses in his wake. By now, Jesse was gasping for breath and Mark quite forcefully moved Steve away from the bed.
"Give me room, son."
Steve found himself pushed to the back of the room as the team worked on Jesse. He watched silently as they fitted him with an oxygen mask and he didn't try to follow when they wheeled him away.

*****

Steve sat in the now empty room, staring at nothing and fervently praying that his friend was going to be alright. There were things that he needed to say to Jesse, to try and take back some of the hurt they'd caused one another. Now he could only hope that he got the chance.
His eyes were drawn to the night-stand. There was a little plastic cup on it, the kind used to deliver pills to patients. Steve picked it up and turned it over slowly in his hands, feeling dread suddenly rise in him. He closed his eyes. If his suspicions were correct, then Jesse's latest suffering might well be his fault.
Mark found him, still sitting there, over an hour later. Steve glanced up as his dad entered the room and Mark was shocked by the raw pain on his face.
"Steve, it's okay." He moved swiftly to crouch in front of his son. "He's going to be fine."
"What happened?"
"Well, that's the part I don't really understand. Jesse has somehow ingested an overdose of a kind of steroid. Not enough to do him any lasting damage, but it must have really given him a scare."
"How can something like that happen?" Steve was still toying with the plastic cup, not knowing how to ask the question that was at the forefront of his mind.
"It can't," Mark answered frankly. "Any prescribed drugs are stringently checked before being distributed. There are safeguards in place specifically to stop this sort of accident from happening."
"Are you sure that's what it was, dad? An accident?"
"Of course it was. What else could it have been? Unless you think that someone deliberately..."
"Not someone. Jesse." The words were quietly spoken, but Mark couldn't have been more shocked if he'd screamed them at him.
"Jesse? Why would he..?" Mark was momentarily lost for words. "You mean, you think he's suicidal? Not Jesse. No, I'm sure you're wrong."
"You know he's not been himself, dad. What with those drugs messing with his head. What if he wasn't really over it? Amanda said his depression was terrifying. What if he's just been hiding it from us? Jesse would know how to get the drugs and he'd know what to take."
"I'm sorry, Steve, but I honestly can't believe that Jesse would do something like this."
"Look at the timing of it. You'd done your rounds, I was on my way to the DA's office. If I hadn't have turned around when I did..." In a sudden fit of anger, he hurled the cup across the room. "Dammit, dad! I've been so stubborn with him. I haven't seen him since we argued. I haven't even spoken to him."
"You can just stop that right now." Mark grabbed him by the shoulders. "You are in absolutely no way to blame for what happened today. If you think that your argument might have driven Jesse to this, then you're wrong. I still don't believe that he deliberately tried to hurt himself, but only he can give us the answers and he can't do that until he wakes up."
"I was so scared when I saw him like that, dad."
"I know, son. So was I. But all that matters now is that he's going to be alright. He won't wake up for some hours yet. In the meantime, don't you have an appointment with the DA?"

*****

Steve returned to the hospital later that afternoon and with mixed feelings following his meeting. The DA, Morgan Woodward, had been surprisingly sympathetic when he'd explained the reason for his visit. However, she had also been unable to make any promises.
The main stumbling block had been the fact that Kim Ho had no recognised permanent address. The old house where they had found Maria and Bethany had been little more than a squat.
The second problem was that Kim's parents refused to take responsibility for him. Welfare officers had managed to track down both sets of parents, but the reports from their interviews made grim reading. Maria's parents had completely disowned her, the moment they'd found out that she was pregnant and Kim's were no better.
Still, Morgan did agree with Steve's belief that a custodial sentence would be counter-productive. Steve had left the office, feeling mildly optimistic, following her promise to "look into it further".
When he got back to Community General, he met up with his dad at the front desk.
"How's Jesse?" he asked.
"Much better. We're still keeping an eye on him, but there shouldn't be any further complications."
"Is he awake yet?"
"He'll be coming around soon. I'm just on my way to see him now." He glanced at his son. "So how did you get on?"
"About as well as can be expected, under the circumstances."
They walked towards the elevators together and Steve filled him in on the details of his meeting.

*****

For Jesse, waking up was a painful experience. His chest hurt, his throat hurt and his head was pounding. He forced his eyes open and found Steve and Mark looking down at him.
"How are you feeling?" Mark asked, reaching for the ever-present ice chips.
"Not so good," Jesse answered honestly. Now his stomach had started churning to add to his misery. "What happened?"
"We were hoping you could tell us that." Jesse could see real concern on Steve's face and frowned as his memory gradually returned.
"Morton!" He gasped suddenly. "He was in my room. He threatened me and he must have... I don't know. What did he do to me?"
"You were given an overdose of steroids, Jess." Mark explained, sparing a triumphant glance towards his son. He'd known there had to be another explanation, other than his suicide theory. "Do you know how he did that?"
"He just talked, mostly." Jesse shook his head. "Then he grabbed hold of my wrist and told me that I had to convince you not to report him to the Medical Council."
"Then what?"
"He left, then the nurse came in with my pills. Then I woke up here."
"The nurse," Steve put in. "Do you remember who she was?"
Jesse squeezed his eyes shut as he sought to remember, but he'd not really paid too much attention to her. He shook his head helplessly.
"It doesn't matter, we can soon find out that information," Mark frowned. "Morton must have somehow switched your medication."
"He tried to kill me?"
"No, it wasn't a lethal dose, but it could have been very nasty if Steve hadn't found you when he did."
"You went to my room?" Jesse seemed surprised by that statement.
"Yeah, I wanted to talk to you about something." Steve didn't elaborate further, not wanting to cause his friend any more distress. "But don't worry about it now. I gotta go."
"Go where?" Mark asked, as he stood up.
"To find Philip Morton."

*****

Steve stormed up the stairs to Morton's apartment and hammered on the door. The disgraced doctor answered almost immediately and Steve went in without waiting to be invited.
"Lieutenant Sloan." Morton seemed genuinely surprised to see him. "What can I do for you?"
"You can start by telling me how you thought you were going to get away with poisoning Jesse."
"Poisoning Jesse?" Again there was that apparent surprise, but Steve wasn't fooled for a second. "Seeing as I've already had this confrontation with your father, I presume that you're not talking about the myzephomine."
"I'm talking about an overdose of steroids."
"And you think that I had something to do with it? That's a very serious accusation, Lieutenant." Morton's smile was predatory. "I do hope you have plenty of proof."
"You were at the hospital today."
"I was indeed. In case you're forgetting, I did used to work there. And, as you know, I was also recently fired. I had to pick some things up. Oh, I also wanted to apologise to Doctor Travis."
"So you were in his room." Steve was bluffing. He knew that he didn't have one shred of evidence, only Jesse's word. He thought ruefully of the pill container that he'd flung across the room. It was too much to hope that it might still be there, or that it might yield any clues.
"It would be difficult to apologise if I weren't in the room," Morton smirked. "And, before you ask, he was fine when I left him."
"He said that you threatened him."
"Did he now? Well, that's understandable. He is still getting over his little... reaction to the myzephomine." Steve opened his mouth to respond, but Morton pressed on, not giving him the chance. "You saw what he was like. The mood swings, the depression. And you can add paranoia to that list as well. It's closely related to his other symptoms. Ask your father, he knows."
"He's over that now."
"Apparently he isn't. I'd keep an eye on him, if I were you. People have been known to become suicidal..."
"You did that to him!" Steve couldn't help himself. He grabbed hold of Morton's shirt-front and slammed him back against the wall. It took all of his restraint not to draw his gun.
"I've admitted that I gave him myzephomine and I've been punished for it." Morton didn't seem at all phased by the violent outburst. "What I did might have been unethical, but it was by no means illegal. Now, I suggest you let go of me, before I decide that I have to call my lawyer."
Steve knew that he was beaten and grudgingly released the man.
"I'm going to pretend that never happened. I really don't want to have to call your Captain." Morton was openly gloating now. "I know that it's just because you're worried about Jesse. He's lucky to have a friend like you."
"I'll get the proof."
"No you won't, because there is none to get. Now, leave my apartment and don't come back, or I will file a complaint against you."
Steve forced himself to bite down on his anger when, in truth, he really wanted to start breaking things. He paused on the threshold and turned back.
"Leave him alone, Morton." His voice was threatening. "I mean it."
"Goodbye, Lieutenant."
Morton closed the door firmly behind him and Steve was left on the landing, cursing silently to himself.

*****

The shrill ringing of a telephone dragged Jesse out of his sleep later that night. He reached out to answer it and grunted a greeting.
"Hello, Jesse. How are you today?"
Jesse felt panic race through him. It was Morton.
"What do you want?" He was instantly wide awake.
"You told Steve that I tried to kill you."
"Are you saying that you didn't?"
"Oh no," Morton chuckled softly, but completely without mirth. "That was just a warning."
"Some warning." Unconsciously, Jesse's free hand had moved to his chest. It still felt tight and hurt if he breathed too deeply.
"Not for you. The warning was for Mark Sloan. Tell him not to go to the Medical Council."
"He won't listen."
"Oh, I think he will. I got to you, Jesse. I could have easily killed you, if I'd wanted to. And, if I can get to you, I can get to anybody."
"What do you mean?" Jesse wanted to call for help, but couldn't risk Morton hanging up on him. He had to find out the madman's plans.
"I know all about his little project. You know, the baby of the guy that shot you. Maybe I'll target her next. What do you think, Jesse? What if I gave her a dose of what I gave you? Do you think she'd survive?"
"You sick..."
"Tell him, Jesse. Convince him. If he agrees, I'll even leave LA and you need never hear from me again. But I must be allowed to practise medicine."
Morton hung up then and Jesse just stared at the receiver in horrified silence. Then he pulled himself together and frantically began to dial the beach house.

*****

Steve slammed shut the door of the beach house, then leaned against it and took several deep breaths, trying to calm himself down.
"Damn that man," he cursed, unconsciously echoing his father's own words about Philip Morton.
It was late. After his visit to Morton's apartment, Steve had gone back to the hospital and spent hours questioning everybody who'd been on duty on Jesse's floor of the hospital that day. He still had no idea how Morton had managed to switch the medication.
"I take it you've spoken to Morton, then?" Mark asked, looking up from the book he'd been reading.
Considering the hour, Steve was surprised to find him still up. But then, his dad's insatiable curiosity probably wouldn't have let him sleep anyway.
"Oh, I spoke to him alright and, of course, he denied everything." Steve flung himself onto the couch. "I know that he did it. I just can't prove it."
"It was always going to be difficult. Even if you did find Morton's prints on anything, they'd have had every right to be there."
" Well, I'm not just going to let him get away with it."
"He won't. From what Jesse was saying, he sounds desperate and desperate men make mistakes."
Steve was prevented from answering by the sudden ringing of the telephone. Mark got up to answer it.
"Hello..? Now calm down, Jesse... Tell me exactly what he said... Jesse! Slow down, you'll do yourself no good by getting all worked up... Take a couple of deep breaths... That's it... Now start from the beginning..."
Steve frowned as he listened to the one-sided conversation. Nothing in Mark's responses gave him any clue as to what had got his friend so agitated. He could only wait, in growing frustration, until his dad put the phone down.
"What's happened?"
"Morton's called Jesse." Mark's tone was grim. "This time he's threatened to hurt Bethany if I go to the Medical Council."
Steve looked as shocked as Mark felt. Hurting Jesse was one thing, but he couldn't understand how anybody could target a defenceless child.
"I'll call the hospital," Mark continued. "We'll keep security on Bethany's room at all times, until we can resolve this."
"It wouldn't do any harm to keep somebody with Jesse either." Steve put in. "There's no telling what Morton will try next."

*****

Philip Morton wasn't a stupid man, he had qualified as a doctor after all. He knew that no amount of threats were going to salvage his career, but he couldn't just sit back and do nothing. So he sat in darkness, in his apartment, thinking over his plan of action.
What he'd done to Jesse had been a mistake, but he truly believed that he was being over-harshly punished for it. After all, it had been Benson Labs who'd manufactured the drug, they who had wrapped it up in different packaging and called it something new. Of course, they would receive their fair share of punishment, but Morton couldn't see why he had to be dragged down with them.
It was all Mark Sloan's fault. Morton had seen first hand the man's compassion and ability to forgive. Why couldn't he extend some of that compassion to one doctor who'd made a mistake?
Because of Jesse Travis. If it hadn't been that particular patient who'd had such an adverse reaction to the myzephomine, then he wouldn't be in this situation now. He probably would still have been fired, but Sloan would have calmed down eventually and not reported him. It would have been hard to get another job, but not impossible. One mistake, that was all he'd made.
Morton got up and began to pace. His career was over, he didn't doubt that for a minute, but he wasn't going to go down without a fight and he certainly wasn't going to go down without taking Mark Sloan with him.

*****

The rest of the night passed uneventfully, but Jesse still found sleep elusive. He was aware of a security guard appearing outside his room and was surprised by how grateful he felt for that. It wouldn't prevent any more phone calls, but at least Morton wouldn't be paying him another visit. He also knew that Bethany would be receiving the same treatment and that helped to ease his worry somewhat.
Jesse drifted in and out of sleep, his mind too active to allow him to relax completely. He was, therefore, still exhausted when Mark called by to visit him the next morning. The older doctor looked at his friend, noting the dark circles under his eyes.
"Why didn't you ask for something to help you sleep?" He admonished him gently.
"How's Bethany?" Jesse countered, trying to evade the issue.
"She's fine." Mark sighed and sat down. "Jesse, your system has been under an awful lot of strain these past few days. You have to rest, if you're ever going to get better."
"I'm okay." Jesse felt mildly guilty. Mark had enough worries, without him adding to them. "I'll sleep later. I promise."
"Make sure you do. So, aside from the obvious lack of sleep, how do you feel?"
"A little better." He eased himself into a more upright position. "Still sore and it feels kinda tight across my chest."
"Those steroids put your heart under a great deal of strain," Mark explained. "Add that to the surgery you underwent and it's hardly surprising. The discomfort should pass but, if it gets any worse, let me know."
"I will."
"Alright. Well, it looks like your breakfast is here." He glanced round as the door opened. "So I'll leave you to it. Steve should be here soon."
"He said he wanted to talk to me." Mark couldn't help but notice the slight trepidation in his tone.
"It will be alright, Jesse. Trust me."

*****

It was mid-morning when Steve called in to see Jesse. He didn't know exactly what he intended to say, only that he had to say something. His terror from the day before was still sharp in his mind, as was his guilt when he'd truly thought that Jesse had attempted suicide.
For a brief moment, as he stood by Jesse's bed, Steve felt strangely awkward. It wasn't a feeling he was used to having, especially around his best friend.
"Steve, won't you sit down?" Jesse couldn't keep the nervousness out of his voice. This would be their first proper conversation since he'd made those terrible accusations.
Steve sat on the proffered chair and looked down at his hands. He didn't even know where to start. It was Jesse who broke the silence.
"I'm sorry," he said, quietly.
Steve looked up at him. He wanted, needed, to be perfectly honest with his friend. When he spoke, his tone was subdued.
"So am I."
"Steve, you have no reason to apologise." Jesse was genuinely surprised by his words. "What I said to you..."
"Jess, please. I have to say this." Jesse shut up. "I am truly sorry that I couldn't nail Gianni De Marco after what happened to Chloe. I know how much it meant to you."
"But I didn't mean what I said. I was sick, the drugs..."
"I know, but a part of me can't help but thinking that, in a way, you were right."
"No."
"Yes, Jesse." Steve looked at him sincerely. "Nobody was punished for what happened to Chloe and Kenny Parker. Nobody was even arrested. That was bound to be painful for you, after what you went through. It might seem to you that I didn't try hard enough, but I did, Jess. You have to believe that I did."
"I do." The young doctor was almost in tears, horrified that he had caused his friend so much anguish.
"And then, when Kim Ho shot you," Steve continued, still staring intently at him. "I never even thought about De Marco. I never considered that you might have been completely disillusioned with the entire justice system. I just waded in regardless, trying to help the man who shot you to walk free. That's why I need to apologise."
"Steve, I do understand why you're doing it." Jesse swallowed, fighting to keep his tears at bay. "But I can't help you and I need you to understand my reasons for that."
"I do, Jesse. Now I've taken the time to step back and think about it, I do and I don't blame you for it."
Those words produced a smile from Jesse, but that smile soon faded when Steve looked away again.
"There's one other thing." Steve forced himself to look back up. "Jesse, you have to tell me, honestly and I mean absolutely honestly, do you really believe that I ever have, or would, take a bribe?"
"Steve, I..." Jesse was losing his battle against his tears. "The moment I said those words, I regretted them. I know that you could never do something like that. Even with the drugs in my system, I knew I'd done something terrible. That's why I was... the way I was when Amanda found me the other day."
Steve nodded, remembering how Amanda had described his condition.
"All I could think of was how much I'd hurt you." Tears were now streaming openly down the young doctor's face. "I'd have cut my tongue out, if I'd been able. Please, Steve, you have to forgive me. You have to believe that I never meant it. I swear, I never meant it. Please."
Steve looked at Jesse, at his unmistakable anguish, at his tears and at his genuine remorse. This was his best friend, his emotions laid bare, putting himself through Hell because he wanted to preserve that friendship. Steve found that the only thing he could do was forgive him.
"Of course I do, Jesse." He moved onto the bed and put one arm around the distraught young man. "Of course I forgive you."

*****

LA was a big city and, like any big city, it had its fair share of bad guys. If you knew where to look, there was always someone who, for the right price, would be willing to do just about anything. Philip Morton knew where to look.
Even though he'd not worked at Community General for very long, he'd learned most of the haunts frequented by off-duty staff. And, with the money left over from the Benson Labs pay-off, it was easy for him to persuade some of those less desirable citizens to eavesdrop for him.
It was that easy to keep up with the goings on inside the hospital and he never once put himself at risk. The second part of his plan, however, required a much more hands-on approach and quite a lot more help.
Morton took time out to visit a hairdresser. He was going to have to enter the hospital again and he didn't want to be instantly recognised. After that, some more money changed hands and a couple of kids were quite willing to steal a few certain items for him.
Recruiting for the final, and most crucial, part of his scheme was somewhat more difficult. He would have to place his trust in those people and that was always a problem when you were dealing with criminals. It was also a whole lot more expensive, but he eventually found enough people who he was relatively confident wouldn't let him down.
He had to promise them all extra money if they did what he asked, although that was one promise he had no intention of keeping.

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