Far From View 
by Surreal 
E-mail: surreal666@hotmail.com
Website: https://www.squidge.org/~surrealarts/
Feedback: PLEASE!
Status: WIP
Category: Angst, first time, discussion of rape
Rating: NC/17 for content
Summary:  "I never thought that someone so close could be so 
far from view." - Sprung Monkey, 'Watcha Gonna Do'
Archive: BBQ Bob's, Steve & Jesse's Abode
Disclaimer: Not mine...I *never* get the hot guys!  *POUT*
Notes: The title and summery are lyric quotes, the 
full song lyrics will be at the end.  The song can also be 
blamed on Linsey.  *GRIN*  The story is fairly emotionally 
intense, dealing with darker issues and sides of the characters 
than I usually write.  



*****


//Releasing Jesse's mouth from his own, Steve leaned back 
against the couch cushions, blinking, stunned by what he'd done. 

He'd kissed Jesse. His best friend, business partner, all-
around-great guy. And Jesse had kissed him back, with only a 
tiny moment of hesitation to get used to the idea that it was 
*Steve* kissing him, in his own apartment. 

"Damn. I--sorry, Jesse, I didn't mean to..." Steve shot to his 
feet, feeling as rattled at Jesse looked. "I - I have to go. 
Sorry." 

He left without looking back, not seeing the absolute heartbreak 
his reckless mistake had caused.// 


***


Detective Steve Sloan's memories of the night before were 
disrupted by the ringing of his cell phone. 

"Sloan," Steve barked into the phone pressed to his ear, while 
going back to where he'd been washing his breakfast dishes. 

He heard soft, shallow breathing, followed by a weak-sounding
groan.  "Mmm..steve..." 

The detective frowned, shutting off the faucet. "Yes--Jesse? 
Is that you?" 

"mmmhmmm," came the quiet reply. "steve..don't feel good. 
something...need you. can--come over?" 

"Jesse? C'mon, buddy, I need you to concentrate, okay?" Steve 
spoke slowly into the phone even as he walked quickly to pick up 
his jacket and car keys, ready to go to his friend. "Do you need 
help? Need to go to the hospital? Are you hurt?" He locked the 
door to the beach house behind him and ran to his car, his cell 
still at his ear. 

The other end of the line was quiet for a moment and Steve held 
his breath as he listened.  Finally, he heard, "ummm... no 
hospital. just...you--not hurt...much, m'okay...little blood, 
it's gone now, s'okay."  Steve was terrified by the other man's 
weak words and he threw himself into his car, driving off quickly.

Steve swallowed hard, forcing himself to take deep breaths and 
stay calm as he drove to Jesse's apartment. "Listen, I'll be 
there real soon, okay, Jess?  You think you can hold on?"

"Hmm?  Sure, m'fine..." Jesse answered distractedly.  

Steve floored it through a yellow light.  "Stay with me 
here, Jesse.  I need you to keep talking to me, let me know 
you're still there, okay?"

"Yeah...yeah, m'here."  Jesse paused and Steve could hear 
breathing over the line.  Finally, his friend asked, "Don't 
you have to go to work?"

Steve smiled tightly at the confused inquiry.  "That can wait, 
don't worry about it.  You're more important."  He listened for 
a response, but was met with silence.  "Jesse?  You still there?"

"mmhmmmm..." 

Straining, he barely heard the faint acknowledgement, but his 
heart jumped when it was followed by a hard thump and the phone 
hitting the floor.  "Jesse?? Jess - HELLO?!" 


***


At Jesse's apartment, the young doctor's head was starting to 
clear and events from the previous evening were starting to 
surface.  A visit, an awkward conversation and a kiss.  'Oh 
shit...he kissed me!'  Over the phone line, he heard Steve's 
voice asking him, "...going to be okay?"

He swallowed hard, managing a soft "mmhmmmm..." before his 
vision grayed and he fell off the edge of his couch to the 
floor, dropping the phone.


***


"Jesse? Can you hear me?" Steve knocked frantically on the door 
to his friend's apartment, his heart pounding. When he didn't 
get an answer, he tried the handle and was surprised to find it 
unlocked. 

Still calling out, he pushed the door shut behind him and 
headed toward the living room.  Glancing around, he noticed a 
blanket strewn across the back of the couch that was not 
normally there before he finally heard a small, weak groan. 

Leaning over the top of the couch, he could see his young friend 
laying face-down on the floor, looking like he'd fallen off the 
edge. 

"Damn," Steve muttered, moving quickly to Jesse's side and 
placing one hand on his back, the other on the pale throat in 
search of life. Finding a slow, steady rhythm indicating normal 
sleep, he relaxed just a bit. 

Jesse shifted a little, a low moan sending tiny vibrations 
through Steve's hand where it rested on his friend's back. The 
doctor shifted up on one elbow, twisting his head up to squint 
at the other man. "Oh, man..." 

"God, Jesse, you scared the hell out of me!  What the hell is 
going on?  You look terrible," Steve finally took a breath 
in the middle of his outburst. He wrapped his arm around the 
smaller man and helped Jesse up onto the couch, where he 
collapsed onto his side and curled up. 

"Steve, it's okay, calm down," Jesse insisted quietly, despite 
the small tremors still coursing through his body. 

"Calm DOWN?? Jesse...God, you have no idea how much that call 
scared me.  Then finding you here..." Steve swallowed hard and 
laid his hand on the other man's arm, stroking gently. "Tell me 
what happened." 

"I..." Jesse closed his eyes, a hard shudder rocking his 
huddled frame under the blanket. "Something happened last night...
did something stupid and...and I just needed to see you, needed 
you here. Needed a friend," his voice dropped to a faint whisper 
by the last sentence and Steve had to lean closer to hear him. 

Steve had no idea what to say, so he simply sat on the edge of 
the couch, gathered Jesse into his arms and held him. His hands 
made smooth, even strokes up and down the trembling back, and he 
felt Jesse struggling for control, face buried against Steve's 
shoulder, warm breath through his shirt. 

After giving him time to calm down, even if it was only a bit,
Steve finally spoke. "Can you tell me what happened?" 

Jesse shrugged, his arms sliding around Steve's waist to return 
his hold.  "That's part of the problem. I don't actually know...
I mean, I can guess...but I don't remember anything, really." 

Now Steve was starting to get scared again. "You don't know...
but you can guess?" Jesus. What had happened? 

Taking a steadying breath, Jesse began to talk, his voice
somewhat shaky at moments. "After, uh, you left, I went out. 
To a bar, one I used to hang out in with friends a few years 
ago." 'Back when I knew I'd fallen for you and you were out 
fucking everything with blonde hair, long legs and no dick,'  
Jesse added in his mind.  "I was...still pissed I think, 
from--earlier." 

Steve winced slightly. 'Earlier', meaning right after he'd 
kissed Jesse and ran. 

Jesse cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably but not 
moving away. "I don't really remember much at all...there 
were a lot of guys flirting with me; think I flirted back, 
let them buy me drinks. Never intended to pick anyone up, 
or get picked up." He shivered, his hands clenching against 
Steve's back. "Guess I must have... next thing I remember 
is waking up this morning on my couch." 

The detective tensed in a mixture of anger and fear. "You 
don't know if you went home with anyone? Or brought someone 
home, since you were on your couch this morning? Nothing?" 

Inside, Steve was screaming in frustration.  He had 
suspected, *hoped*, that Jesse was at least bi.  But to 
hear proof, details of an active sex life, threw him 
completely for a loop.

A sharp, humorless laugh erupted from Jesse as he pulled 
back, swiping a hand through his disheveled hair. "See, 
that's exactly why I called *you*, my friend Steve, not 
'Detective Sloan.' I *don't* know what happened and to be 
honest, I don't WANT to know. I just--" he stopped, turning 
away. "I just needed you." 

Steve felt something in his chest tighten at that statement, 
the incredible trust his friend showed in him. He reached across, 
stroking his hand in small circles on the strong shoulder. He 
fought down the part of him that wanted to find out who'd done 
this to Jesse, instead focusing on what he could do for the young 
doctor. 

He sighed, nodding his understanding. "All right, Jess. Just tell 
me what you need me to do." 

Jesse's weak smile turned into a grimaced as the pain in his body 
let itself be known again. He leaned sideways against the back of 
the couch, closing his eyes.  "Thanks, Steve. But now that I'm 
thinking more clearly, what I need is *Doctor* Sloan." 

Steve jumped to his feet, cursing as he reached for his phone. 
"Damn it, I *knew* you were hurt, why didn't you let me take you 
to the hospital?" 
 
"Because I don't want anyone to know," Jesse's reply was too soft
for Steve to hear, as the other man listened for his father's answer 
on the phone. 

***

Steve opened the front door and was greeted by his father's voice. 
"Where is he?" 

Grabbing him quickly and shutting the door, Steve said quietly, 
"He's on the couch, and calm down. He's pretty much okay, and 
I'd prefer it if you didn't get him scared, all right?" 

Mark frowned at his son, but only nodded. He knew what he was
doing, despite the initial shock and worry when he had heard his 
son on the other end of the phone line asking him to bring a rape
kit and other specific supplies to Jesse's apartment. But he also 
recognized that Steve was scared, too. 

He was reassured when he approached the curled-up young man and 
was rewarded with a small, embarrassed smile. "You know, I bet 
you're the last doctor in California that makes house calls." 

Smiling warmly back, Mark sat next to Jesse on the couch and 
looked him over appraisingly. "Only for my good friends," he 
responded. 

Jesse blushed brightly under the gaze, and pushed himself up 
to stand. "Uh, Mark...I'd rather do this in the bathroom, if 
that's okay. I mean..." he glanced quickly at Steve, then down 
to the floor as he stood on his feet. 

Steve nodded, his jaw tight. "Right, sorry. I'll just hang out 
in here." 

With a grateful look from both men to Steve, Mark led Jesse 
gently down the hall. 

Mark closed the door behind them, setting his bag on the sink 
counter.  He turned around to see Jesse shifting uncomfortably 
between his feet, his arms hugging himself tightly. He reached 
over and patted Jesse's shoulder lightly. "Relax, Jess. It's 
just me and you here, you know exactly what I'm going to do. 
I'll do my best to keep this as painless as possible, but I 
need you to tell me if I do anything that hurts, all right?" 

Jesse grunted his acknowledgement, nodding. 

"Why don't you start by telling me what you can, physically. 
Steve mentioned that you can't remember anything about last 
night, but you know you engaged in anal intercourse?" Mark 
worded his questions carefully, hoping that by staying 
professional he'd make Jesse more comfortable. He slipped on a 
pair of sterile gloves and took what he'd need out of the bag.  

The other man wouldn't meet his eye, instead mechanically 
removing his sweat pants and boxers. "Yeah. Umm...when I 
woke up this morning, I was really sore all over. Especially 
back there. When I went to the bathroom, there were some blood 
spots on my shorts. Not a lot, just what you'd expect with 
minor tearing. My stomach ached, still does..."

Indicating that Jesse should lean over the sink, Mark began 
his careful exam. "Have you ever had this form of sex before?" 

"Uh...yeah, I have." Jesse blushed and tried not to hiss at the 
light touches. "That's kind of how I knew what'd happened. I've 
had a few boyfriends; they're usually...uh, you know, bigger 
than me, and I prefer to bottom...sorry, too much info." He 
tensed suddenly, instinctively pulling away. 

"Sorry, Jesse," Mark said softly, one hand gently patting the 
young doctor's back. "You're doing fine, just relax and let me 
put the antibiotic cream on you; it'll numb the area." 

Jesse sighed deeply, his head dropping down between his arms 
as he made himself relax. "'Kay, sorry." 

"Don't need to apologize, Jesse," Mark assured him. "None of 
this is your fault and don't let me hear you say otherwise. Now, 
it looks like you had some minor tearing but no need for stitches." 

"I, uh...I'm pretty sure he used a condom, too. There wasn't 
any... you know, evidence, on me, or my clothes." Jesse turned 
around and reached for his pants when Mark finished, pulling them 
on over his bare legs. 

Mark nodded, cleaning up his materials. "I noticed that. There is 
bruising on your hips, the backs of your legs, and your lower 
back, probably from your assailant's hands. You'll be sore for 
about a week, but overall you're very lucky." 

"Lucky. Right." Jesse rubbed his palm over his eyes. 

"Yes, Jesse. You were," Mark touched the young man's chin and met 
his eye steadily and laid his hand on Jesse's shoulder.  "You know 
how these things can turn out, you've seen it yourself at the 
hospital, and in working with Steve." 

Jesse simply nodded, looking down again after a moment. 

"Just one more thing - I need to take a blood sample, to have 
tested." 

Stepping back quickly, Jesse shook his head hard. "Mark, come on, 
I can't - we already know there was a condom." 

"You also know that they don't protect against everything," Mark 
reminded him. 

"I...Mark, if you do tests, they'll be in my records, in my files...
people will know." Jesse protested weakly. 

"For one, it's perfectly normal for a man your age to get frequent 
blood tests done for STDs. Two, I'll make sure to mark the tests 
confidential in your files, so there will be no reason for anyone 
besides us to know about them, all right?" Mark held up the needle, 
eyebrows up in question. 

Sighing, knowing he never won arguments when Mark became Dr. Sloan, 
he simply held out his arm and allowed his blood to be drawn. Mark 
took two vials; one to test immediately for drug levels still in 
Jesse's system, and another to send to the lab for disease testing. 

"I'll do the drug testing myself, it should only take a few hours. 
Make sure you don't take anything until I call you, not even aspirin. 
You don't appear to be affected at the moment, but we still don't 
know how much of what stuff is in you right now," Mark carefully 
packed away the samples in his bag in protective cases. 

Jesse listened silently, wiping the blood from the puncture in his 
arm when it stopped bleeding. "Right." 

"And Jesse," Mark continued, just before opening the door. "You 
can't be left alone right now, you know that. I'd like it if 
Steve stayed here, at least until we get these results back." 

His first response was to protest, because the last thing he 
needed was to be stuck with Steve all day, especially a guilty 
Steve. But he also knew that once again, it would be useless to 
argue with the Sloans. He would just get matching looks of concern 
and authority, making him feel like a teenager again, and still 
lose. 

He was feeling steadier now than he had earlier, his mind more 
clear.  Along with it came an image from the previous evening, 
of Steve Sloan's face as the detective ran out after kissing him.  
Jesse was humiliated then and now that feeling was returning, but 
he couldn't think of a way out.

"Fine." 


*** 


Steve stood from the armchair when he saw his father and Jesse 
walking back into the living room, dropping the two-month old 
magazine he had been holding onto the coffee table.  "Everything 
okay?" 

Jesse glanced at him briefly before descending in a controlled 
tumble onto the couch, wrapping himself in the blanket. "Just 
fine," he mumbled. 

"He'll be fine, Steve. Just need to runs some tests on his blood, 
standard procedure," Mark told his son when Steve gave him a look. 
"Would you be able to stay here today? It'll take a few hours to 
get these results back and I'd feel better if Jesse wasn't left 
alone." 

Ignoring the muffled growling sound coming from the blanket, 
Steve nodded, moving to stand behind the couch.  "Sure, I already 
called my captain and told him I couldn't come in, family 
emergency." 

"Well, good," Mark nodded, silently pleased that his son 
considered Jesse family.  "I'll call when I'm done, Jesse, 
all right?" He spoke to the bundle of cloth on the couch 
directly. 

"Yeah, okay," Jesse shifted and uncovered his head. "Mark?" 

"Yes, Jesse?" 

"Thanks for...all of this," the young doctor ducked his head, 
blushing. 

Mark smiled. "You're quite welcome, Jess. Just stay out of 
trouble for the next few hours, okay?" 

Jesse replied with a shy smile, "I'll see what I can do." 

After the door closed behind Dr. Sloan, Steve let out a 
sigh and turned back to his friend. Alone again, and the scared 
tension from earlier nearly gone, he began to feel the nerves 
from the night before returning.  "So...uh, can I get anything 
for you? Some water? Are you okay on the couch?" 

"Steve, I'm fine," Jesse cut in before the other man could 
work himself into a helpful frenzy. "Just tired and sore. I'd 
really just like to sleep, if that's okay." 

"Oh. Right, sorry. Sleep. I'll be here, if you need anything." 
Steve remained standing for a moment, not sure what to do with 
himself. Finally he sat in the chair across from the couch and 
picked up the newspaper on the coffee table, noting that it was 
yesterday's. In his rush to get to Jesse that morning, he 
realized he must have missed today's sitting on the doorstep. 

He got up quietly, retrieved the newspaper from outside, and came 
back to sit down. 

And ended up watching Jesse sleep for several hours instead. 
Only a few spikes of blonde hair and one strong, agile hand was 
visible from under the blanket, but it was enough. 

When he had kissed Jesse the night before, it wasn't in a moment 
of blind stupidity or impulsiveness. He had been working up to it 
for months. But when he finally did it, all he felt was panic. Of 
all the responses he'd predicted - disgust, fear, rejection - the 
last thing he expected was for Jesse to kiss him back with the same 
enthusiasm. With such *passion*. 

Then he'd made even more of an ass of himself by stumbling out with 
stuttered apologies. 

He shook his head hard, forcing the scene from his mind. A small 
sound of distress from the bundle on the couch distracted him, and 
he jumped to his feet. Kneeling next to Jesse's head, he lay one 
hand lightly on the sleeping man's shoulder and shook him gently. 

Jesse jolted awake, out of his nightmare, and away from Steve by 
several feet. "Jesus," he hissed, grimacing. 

"God, Jesse, I'm sorry - you were having a bad dream, I didn't mean 
to scare you like that," Steve held up his hands in surrender and 
backed away to his chair again. 

"No, it's okay...thanks. I'm just jumpy." Jesse was blushing and 
he slowly curled into his previous position. 

Steve sighed and looked down, clasping his hands between his knees.
"Listen, Jesse...I'm sorry about what happened last night. If I'd 
known it would upset you so much..." 

"Fuck. You." Jesse shot him a deadly glare that left Steve gaping 
at him in shock. "Don't think that this - last night, or any of this 
- has everything to do with you. It doesn't. It's me, all right?" 

"Jesse - " 

"No, Steve, just listen to me, for five minutes. I'm not a broken 
child, you don't need to handle me like one of your rape cases. I 
fully understand what happened last night. I needed to get out and 
think, to have a beer.  Getting laid was *not* on my agenda, but 
that didn't exactly work out."  Jesse snorted in disgust as he 
struggled to sit up. Tugging the blanket tighter around him, he 
continued, staring blankly at the far wall. 

"I just..." Jesse frowned, blowing out a sharp sigh. "I love you, 
okay, Steve? More than I should as your best friend. And when you 
kissed me last night, for the first time, I thought maybe, *maybe* 
there was a chance it wasn't just one-sided. Then you bolted and 
I didn't know *what* to think.  That's why I went out to get a 
beer. I wasn't trying to get away from thinking about what happened 
here, or looking to get a quick fuck to release some frustration. 
I went somewhere neutral, for one beer, to try and make sense of 
what to do next. About us." 

Steve had no idea what to say, completely rocked by the admission 
of love.  It was the last thing he expected after what he had done; 
he fully expected Jesse to hate him. Not out of some homophobic 
backlash, of course, but for not having the courage to follow 
through on what he started. 

And now, he knew, he would not get another chance. 

Jesse would only see any further attempts at affection or caring as 
being borne out of guilt. He didn't know how to convince the young 
doctor that his intentions toward him were not bent by the events 
of the previous night. 

He said the only thing he could think of at the time, deciding that
anything else could wait until some time had passed; for the 
emotions surrounding their disastrous first attempt at making
progress to settle down. "I love you too, Jesse." 

The soft, heartbreaking tone gave Jesse pause, making him look at 
the other man. Really *look* at him, for the first time since he 
got there that morning. 

The face he saw mirrored his own expression when Steve left last 
night: knowledge that the moment was lost, that what could be 
their only chance had been missed because of a misunderstanding. 

But before Steve could think of anything else to say, the phone 
rang. Jesse flinched, but held Steve's gaze until the third ring, 
then got up to answer it. 


***


"Jesse, it's Mark." 

//Oh, hey.// 

Mark looked away from the lab report in his hand as he listened 
to his colleague answer the phone. "How are you doing?" 

//I'm okay. Steve and I are just hanging out, talking. Did you 
get the results back already?// 

"Yes, I did. Looks like you were given a pretty heavy dose of 
Rohypnol.  Combined with even the small amount of alcohol in your 
system, it's not surprising you have short-term memory loss."  
Mark held the folder in front of him to double check, then closed 
it. "It's mostly trace amounts now, but I suggest you wait another 
two hours or so before taking anything for your headache, etc. 
And even then, only take something mild like Tylenol." 

//Sure, okay. Um, thanks, Mark. I really appreciate you keeping 
this between us.// 

"Anytime. Take care, listen to Steve, and I'll come by and check 
on you when my shift is over." 

A soft, ironic snort came through the line. //Right. See you 
then.// 

Hanging up the phone, Mark signed the report and placed a stamp 
on it marking it 'confidential.' He left his office, taking the 
report to the private file room where he placed it inside Jesse's 
medical records. 

Walking slowly back toward the reception area, he flipped 
through the schedule for the next two days and rearranged it 
carefully to take Jesse off the rotation. 

Now, he would have to find a way to convince Steve to do the same. 
Mark had a suspicion that the two men would need the time together 
to work out whatever it was that had brought Steve home the night 
before silent and brooding. 


***


Mark packed up his bag after finishing up his quick exam of Jesse 
later that evening. As he stood, he gave Steve a look that 
suggested that his son walk him out. 

"Thanks, Mark," Jesse gave his mentor a warm, grateful smile. 
"You too, Steve. You don't have to stay, I'm not under house 
arrest anymore." 

"Actually, Jesse, I would prefer it if Steve stayed with you 
here, if that's all right with you," Mark saw his opportunity 
and took it. "You really should have gone to the hospital 
today and you know it; you could have had internal injuries 
or a bad reaction to the substance in your bloodstream. I 
know you'd probably rather be left alone right now, but that
is the last thing you need." 

Jesse looked between the two men and sighed in defeat. He 
just didn't have the energy to put up a fight. "Whatever. Mark, 
I'll see you at work tomorrow. Steve, you know where the extra 
blankets and things are, you can have the couch." 

"See you at work in three days, Jesse. You're off the rotation 
tomorrow and the next day and I don't want any argument." Mark 
put on his best 'obey me or you'll hurt my feelings' face. 

His lips formed a thin line as he glared, but Jesse just shook 
his head.  "Fine. I'm going to go lay down." With that, he 
disappeared down the hall into his bedroom. 

Sharing a concerned look, Steve walked with his father to the 
door. "The last person he wants around him right now is me, but 
I do feel better being here. It's...a long story, dad and we 
need more time to work this problem out between us. Thanks for 
seeing that, though I have no idea how you do it." 

Mark smiled at his son, a bit sadly. "A father can always tell." 

Steve frowned, uncertain if Mark was saying what he thought he 
was saying.  He chose not to pursue it, instead simply nodding. 
"Talk to you tomorrow, dad." 


***


Steve could easily hear when Jesse's nightmare reached the 
point where he gave into the urge to wake up the sleeping man. 
The detective hadn't gone to sleep yet despite the late hour, 
instead laying on the couch and wondering if he'd completely 
ruined not only his chances with Jesse as a lover but also 
as his best friend. 

He stepped into his friend's bedroom quietly, taking a moment 
to watch the appealing form draped across the bed. Familiar 
desire stirred briefly before it was cut off by another sad 
whimper from Jesse. 

Remembering the reaction from earlier, Steve chose to stand 
by the door instead. "Jesse. Wake up." 

The other man's only response was to roll onto his side and 
kick at the blankets tangled around his legs. 

Steve walked to the end of the bed and nudged it with his knee. 
"Jesse, come on. It's Steve, just you and me here. Listen to 
my voice; you're safe, just wake up, okay?" 

Jesse gave a distressed grunt, then gasped as he came out of 
his dream and into his dark room. He looked up to see the tall, 
looming figure and shrank back into his nest of blankets and 
pillows. He squinted for a moment and rubbed his eye with the 
heel of his hand. "Damn it, Steve, are you *trying* to give me 
a coronary?" 

"At least I didn't try shaking you awake this time," Steve 
countered, crossing his arms over his chest. "You're welcome, 
by the way. Go back to sleep." He turned to leave the room, but 
Jesse's voice stopped him. 

"Wait," the soft voice asked. "I'm sorry, I'm just really on 
edge right now." Jesse shifted in the bed, sitting up against 
the board. 

Steve shifted awkwardly from foot to foot, unsure of his 
welcome but not wanting to just bolt from the room as one of his 
more primitive instincts was demanding he do.  "It's okay, I 
understand.  Do you, uh, want me to leave you alone, or..." he 
trailed off, clearing his throat when no more words were 
forthcoming.  He couldn't bring himself to offer to stay in the 
room, watching over his friend until he fell asleep again.  
Jesse could take it wrong.  Or, he could take it as it was 
intended - the kind offer of comfort from a loving friend.

Friend.  Right.  Steve waited for Jesse to answer.

Jesse shrugged slightly, not looking at the man standing in his 
doorway.  "Doesn't matter.  I don't think I can get back to 
sleep anyway.  It's like, there's all this stuff in my head but 
I can't get to it when I'm awake, just flashes in my dreams."  
He shivered, clutching the blankets around him with trembling hands.  

Seeing an opening, however veiled, Steve took a step forward.  "I 
could...uh, stay in here with you, of you want.  Just - you know, 
so I'll be closer in case you have more nightmares."  

Head jerking up quickly, Jesse blinked owlishly at Steve.  "You mean, 
sleep?  In here, with me?  I mean, in my bed?"

Steve looked away, a mixture of nerves and an unwanted hint of 
anger keeping him from replying right away.  He knew that Jesse's 
stumbling questions weren't out of a lack of trust, but because of 
the events of the previous evening, in the new shape of their 
friendship.  Now each was aware of the feelings of the other.  
But Steve wouldn't let that unhinge his long-established love 
and concern for his best friend.  "Jesse, nothing has changed 
between us, all right?  You know me, you know you can trust me 
to watch over you, nothing more.  You do know that still, right?"  

Jesse flushed with shame, looking down at his blanket.  When he 
looked up his eyes were bright with unshed tears.  "You know I do."  
He held out his hand.  "Come here.  Please," he whispered.

Without hesitation, Steve stepped forward and took the proffered 
hand, then took his place at his friend's side to keep the 
nightmares at bay.  He was warmed to his soul when the smaller 
man spooned back against him and welcomed the arm Steve wrapped 
around his middle.


***


"Not now, Steve," Jesse shook the hand from his shoulder as soon 
as it came down and continued quickly down the hall.

Mark, standing with his son, noticed the exchange and moved closer 
to Steve.  "It's been almost a week since he came back on duty and 
he's literally thrown himself into his work.  If he keeps this up, 
he'll be a patient himself before he knows it," he told the detective, 
nodding in the direction Jesse had gone.

Steve shook himself slightly, turning to look at his father.  "That 
bad?"

"Worse," Mark sighed.  "I can't get him to so much as sit down to 
eat something; his blood sugar has to be bottoming out."  He shook 
his head in frustration.  "He's been avoiding you, hasn't he?"

Frowning, Steve nodded.  "He hasn't returned my calls.  When we're 
at Bob's, he's just like this - strictly business, ignoring any 
conversation I try to start."  He sighed heavily, reaching his hand 
up to scratch briskly at his hair.  "I just don't know what to do."

Mark grimaced, shoving his hands into the pockets of his lab coat.  
"I'm afraid in this case, we just might have to wait for him to 
wear himself out."

"That's IT?" Steve hissed sharply.  "Just, wait until he FALLS over 
with exhaustion?"

"Got any better ideas?" Mark asked pointedly with a raise of an 
eyebrow.

Steve couldn't think of a reply.


***


Mark's ominous words came to bite him far more quickly than he had 
expected.  Not quite half an hour later, with Steve still in the 
building working on accident report paperwork, Dr. Sloan was paged 
to the second floor nurses' station.  

As he strode quickly off the elevator to the desk, he spotted his 
son jogging down the hall from the opposite direction.  Obviously, 
Steve assumed the page was regarding Jesse as well.

"Nancy?" Mark inquired of the nurse standing near the desk.

Taking the doctor's arm, Nurse Kleine led him down the corridor 
toward the small exam rooms.  "Seems our young doctor has found his 
brick wall," she told the two men curtly.  "One of the orderlies 
found him passed out on the men's room floor.  He said Dr. Travis 
had been ill."

She stopped and opened the door to one of the rooms.  "I was under 
the impression that he is currently under your care, Doctor," she 
glared at Mark, making her way to the side of the single exam table 
in the room, on which lay a curled-up Jesse.

"He is," Mark sighed.  "I can take over from here, thank you."

The nurse gave him a look that told him that he'd better take care 
of their favorite young doctor or else.

After she closed the door behind her, Mark pulled up a stool and 
took a seat next to Jesse.  "I'm sorry, Dr. Travis.  I'm afraid that 
I have no choice but to suspend you until you take better care of 
yourself and are able to perform your duties like a professional."

Jesse didn't open his eyes as he let out a soft, shaky sigh.  "I'm 
sorry, Dr. Sloan."

Mark frowned, deeply concerned that Jesse didn't so much as give a 
token protest.  "I don't blame you, Jesse," he softened his tone.  
"But it's up to you not to blame yourself.  We all care about you, 
Steve, Amanda and I.  We don't want to see you get sick.  All 
you have to do is ask for help, son.  You know that."

Swallowing hard, Jesse looked up at his mentor, tears shining in 
his eyes.  "I think I need help, Mark."


***


Mark closed the door behind him softly, not surprised to find 
Steve waiting anxiously on the other side.  

"How is he?"  

"He's exhausted, malnourished.  Exactly what I expected."  Dr. 
Sloan crossed his arms.  "He just admitted that he needs our 
help."

Steve glanced at the door, then back at his father, stunned.  
"Oh."  He shook himself hard, focusing.  "Oh!  Of course, Dad.  
Just tell me what I need to do."

Pleased that his son was taking his role in getting Jesse 
back seriously, Mark smiled.  "I'm going to talk to one of the 
staff psychiatrists, get Jesse signed up for some sessions.  
He's going to need us, Steve.  Especially you.  You're his 
best friend and when he needs to talk to someone, he'll turn 
to you.  

Steve nodded.  "I know."  

Mark patted his son's shoulder as he walked away.  Steve 
swallowed hard and pushed the door open.  

"Jesse?  Mind if I come in?" He waited for a response. 

Jesse turned his head toward his visitor and cleared his throat.  
"No, it's fine," he said quietly.  

Crossing the room, Steve sat in the stool next to the bed that 
his father had left there.  "How are you feeling?"

Snorting, Jesse stared at the floor.  "Like an idiot."

"Well, at least you can admit it," Steve risked making the 
joke.  He was rewarded with an embarrassed smile.  "You're 
going to be fine, you know.  I'll make sure of that."

"You will, huh?"  Jesse looked up, a flicker of hope in 
his eyes.  

Steve nodded sincerely.  "I promise."


***


Jesse put down the bag of groceries onto his kitchen counter and 
stepped back as Steve set down his own two bags next to it.  He 
smiled at the detective, warmed by the care of his friend for the 
past several weeks as he put his health and life back to normal.  
Steve hadn't left his side when he needed him, and for that Jesse 
was incredibly grateful.  

Slowly, with the help of the sessions, Jesse had been able to 
talk to Steve about what had happened and how he felt about it.  
He knew that he was not at fault, but had needed help to say it 
out loud and believe in himself.  Steve was always amazed at 
Jesse's ability to bounce back from the brink; this time was 
no exception.  He was proud of his friend.

He knew, however, that they still had to talk about them. 

"Thanks, Steve," he said as the two of them moved together smoothly 
to put away the supplies.  "Stay for dinner?"

Steve smiled and nodded.  He moved to stand behind Jesse and ruffled 
his hair.  He was pleasantly surprised when Jesse leaned back against 
him, so he wrapped his arms around the other man.  Resting his chin 
on the blond head, he sighs.  "We need to talk, don't we, kiddo."

Turning in Steve's arms, Jesse looked up at Steve, a shy smile 
playing on his lips.  "No, actually.  I don't think we do."  He 
slid one hand behind Steve's head and pulled the taller man's head 
down, brushing their lips together tentatively.  "I think we just 
need to go with instinct from now on."

"Are you sure?" Steve asked carefully.  He had noticed Jesse 
becoming more comfortable with him in their time together recently, 
giving him more casual touches than normal.  But this kiss, however 
tiny, was more than he expected after the way he had treated 
Jesse before this whole thing had begun.  More than he felt he 
deserved.

Jesse's arms came up to drape around Steve's neck and he kissed 
him again, deeper and with as much love as he could give.  He 
smiled as Steve moaned and tightened his hold on the doctor.  

Pulling back reluctantly, Steve grinned back, pleased at the 
playful gleam in Jesse's eyes.  "I'll take that as a yes."


*****


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