TITLE : A Waking Nightmare

SERIES: Diagnosis Murder

DISCLAIMER: The characters in this story belong to CBS and Viacom. This is a piece of fan fiction, written for pleasure and not for profit. The characters are borrowed for the purpose of the story.

RATING: NC-17

CATEGORY: Established relationship

PAIRING: (Steve/Jesse)

SUMMARY: A ghost from Jesse’s past threatens his relationship with Steve and places Jesse in serious danger

AUTHOR’S NOTES: First attempt at writing this particular type of fanfiction so please be gentle with me.

DISTRIBUTION: ( BBQ Bob's)

********

"Hey Jess – babe have you seen my …. Ah there they are!" Having almost torn the living room apart looking for his car keys, to his intense amusement Steve had found them on the kitchen counter – the very last – and the most obvious – place to look!

"Have I seen your what?" asked Jesse, padding out of the bedroom trying his hardest to stifle a yawn. At the sight of his lover Steve’s heart skipped a beat. Jesse had no idea how unutterably adorable he looked when he had just woken up. Steve felt his body reacting to the sight of the sleepy eyed, spiky haired young man. Jesse noticed it too and grinned over at the tall lean detective wickedly.

"Are you sure you have to go RIGHT now?"

"Jess", Steve growled as he crossed the room in two single strides and swept the young man into his powerful embrace, pulling him hard against his chest, breathing in his warm musky scent. "You know Captain Newman will have my hide if I’m late".

"Lucky Captain Newman", Jesse mumbled, tilting his face up to Steve’s. Their lips met and it was several minutes before both men parted reluctantly.

"I’ll call by the hospital later on and take you to lunch", Steve whispered softly, running a finger down the side of Jesse’s face.

"Yeah right", Jesse snorted derisively. "What you mean is you’ll come to the hospital and take me down to the canteen to eat".

"Hey – there’s nothing wrong with the food at Community General", Steve replied.

"Not much right with it either", Jesse muttered to Steve’s retreating back, before turning and heading for the shower.

Just as was about to step under the needle hot spray the phone rang.

---

No matter how hard he tried, Steve simply couldn’t understand both his father’s and Jesse’s antipathy to the food at Community General. But out of respect for his partner Steve decided to forego the delights of the hospital canteen and take Jesse out to lunch. The young man deserved to be spoiled. He had brought so much pleasure and happiness into Steve’s life in the six months they had been together.

"Hey dad", Steve greeted his father cheerfully as he checked out the doctor’s lounge to see if Jesse were there. "Seen Jess about? I’ve come to take him to lunch".

"Well that’s nice I must say", Mark replied teasingly. "What about your poor old dad? Doesn’t he get an invite to lunch too?"

"Well – sure dad. You’re more than welcome to join us, you know that". Steve replied seriously, a flash of guilt surging through him. He HAD been neglecting his father since he and Jesse had gotten together and he had been so wrapped up in his own happiness that it had never occurred to him that his father might be feeling – left out.

"Oh Steve I’m JOKING", said Mark, crossing over to his handsome son and slipping an arm around Steve’s shoulders.

"No dad you’re right", said Steve. "We haven’t been out to lunch or dinner for a long time and I’m sorry. I’ll take you out to dinner – tonight", he said firmly.

"Steve there’s no need .. Really", Mark protested. "And besides – what about Jesse? You’re surely not going to leave him sitting alone in his apartment all evening?"

"Oh don’t worry about me", a quiet voice behind them announced. "I’ve got a hot date myself this evening", he added flatly.

---

"My dad rang just after you left", Jesse informed Steve as he poured them both a coffee. "He’s in LA for a few days and he wants us to get together for dinner this evening".

"Well that’s great!" Steve exclaimed, trying to sound upbeat and positive for Jesse’s sake.

"Is it?" Steve flinched at the expression on Jesse’s face as the young man turned to face him. "Steve I haven’t seen my dad for nearly three years. I haven’t got anything to say to him", he added sadly. "I wish I had the kind of relationship with my dad that you have with yours. But", Jesse shrugged as if the whole thing were of little or no importance to him. "Since I don’t, I guess I’ll just have to grin and bear it. It’s only one evening after all. Now", he added brightly, "Where are you taking me for lunch?"

---

"Hey – how did it go?" Steve smiled up at Jesse as the young man let himself into the tiny apartment a little after 11.30 PM, closing the door softly behind him.

"Fine", muttered Jesse. "Excuse me".

And with that Jesse fled through the living room in the direction of the bathroom. Steve heard the door slam and almost immediately the sound of Jesse vomiting repeatedly. He was on his feet in seconds to check on the young man but to his consternation he found the bathroom door firmly locked.

"Jess". Steve knocked lightly on the door. "Babe let me in".

Silence. Steve knocked again. Nothing.

"Jesse if you don’t open the door right now and let me see that you’re ok then I’m going to kick it in", Steve yelled. "Jess, please, you’re scaring me".

Backing up Steve was about to apply his foot to the door when he heard the soft click of the latch. The door opened and a white-faced Jesse stood looking out at him.

"Jesse – my god what …". Steve’s voice failed him as he looked down at the young man. Jesse looked awful – truly awful. His complexion was bone white – his hair was plastered to his head with sweat and he was shaking violently.

"I knew the seafood was a mistake", said Jesse, smiling weakly. "I’m going to bed", he added, pushing past Steve and heading for the bed where he climbed under the covers, still fully dressed and with his shoes on.

"Jess – sweetheart – you can’t go to bed fully dressed".

"Already have", Jesse replied drowsily, turning on his side, away from Steve, where he curled his body into a tight ball and promptly fell asleep.

---

"No", Jesse moaned as Steve gently peeled back the covers on the bed. "Leave me alone. Please?"

"Jess", Steve whispered. "Babe let’s get you out of these clothes and get you comfortable".

"I am comfortable", Jesse whined but nevertheless he acquiesced and allowed Steve to undress him. Finally when Jesse was naked, save for his boxer shorts, Steve pulled off his own clothes and slid beneath the covers where he wrapped his arms around his lover’s trembling body before pulling him close, surprised when Jesse immediately stiffened up in his arms and attempted to break free from the embrace.

"It’s ok Jess", Steve soothed. "I’ll take care of you".

"Promise?" Jesse’s voice sounded lost and full of hurt. Damn Dane Travis thought Steve, wondering what had happened between father and son to upset Jesse so badly.

"Always", Steve murmured gently.

Slowly – slowly – Jesse’s trembling ceased. His body relaxed and he curled into Steve like a newborn kitten seeking warmth and shelter. Steve watched until his lover feel asleep and then he too allowed sleep to claim him.

---

"No no NO. Leave me ALONE!"

Jesse’s panicked filled voice woke Steve in the early hours of the morning.

"Jesse – Jess". Steve reached for the young man and tried to pull him into his arms only to be rewarded with a punch, which made him see stars. Wincing at the pain and guessing that he would soon be sporting a beautiful black eye Steve turned his attention to Jesse. Switching on the bedside lamp Steve winced at the sight of his lover who was streaming sweat as he clawed at the air fighting off an unseen attacker. Reaching over, Steve managed to grab hold of Jesse’s arms. Rolling over he placed his full weight on top of the slender man, before pinning his arms firmly to his sides.

"Jesse – Jess – wake up. You’re safe. I’m here. No one is going to hurt you while I’m around. Jess, JESS", Steve risked letting go of the young man’s arms. Cupping his hands gently around Jesse’s face, Steve continued whispering soothing loving words, all the while kissing Jesse’s forehead, cheeks, nose and, finally, his mouth.

"Steve?" Jesse’s eyes flickered open slowly and he looked up at Steve, clearly puzzled as to why his lover was lying on top of him.

"You were having a nightmare", Steve said gently.

"I was? I don’t … remember. Steve", he gasped. "You’re crushing me".

"Sorry babe". Slowly – reluctantly – Steve rolled off Jesse’s slight frame. "Can you remember what the dream was about Jess?" he asked, pulling the young man tightly against him.

"No", Jesse replied flatly.

---

Jesse woke to the sound of the alarm – persistent harsh and ugly – summoning him to the start of another day. Sighing, he reached over to switch the offending object off and hauled his unwilling body out of bed. Beside him Steve slept on. Jesse smiled down at him affectionately before frowning. Reaching out Jesse touched Steve’s face gently – hesitatingly.

"Hey", Steve whispered softly, catching Jesse’s hand and gently kissing the palm.

"Steve, what? How? You have a black eye", said Jesse.

"Figured I would have". Steve slid out of the bed and headed for the bathroom where he took in his appearance. "It’s a beauty too", he informed Jesse who had followed him and who was hovering behind him anxiously. "Guess I’ll have to learn to dodge your fists better when you’re having a nightmare".

"You mean I …", Jesse swallowed hard before continuing. "I hurt you?"

"Hey – hey it doesn’t matter babe – it’s worse than it looks", Steve said reassuringly. "You were having a bad dream and I just … got in the way".

"Oh Steve I’m sorry. I would never hurt you – you know that". Jesse looked as thought he was on the verge of bursting into tears.

"Jess I already told you it doesn’t matter. Look, let’s go fix breakfast and we can talk about this. I want to know what’s bothering you".

"What makes you say that?" Jesse looked up at Steve in surprise. "Nothing is bothering me".

"No?" Steve raised a quizzical eye. "You come back from dinner with your father – run straight into the bathroom and throw up. Then you have a nightmare and almost knock me out. Did you have a fight with your dad Jess? Is that what happened?" Steve asked softly.

"I don’t want to talk about it". Jesse voice was as cold as the look he gave Steve.

"Jess …". Steve took a step towards the young man.

"I have to get ready for work", Jesse informed Steve. "I’m sorry about your eye".

And with that Jesse turned on his heel and walked out of the bathroom.

---

"Wow". Amanda Bentley did a double take when she saw Steve Sloan. "Who hit you?"

"You wouldn’t believe me if I told you", Steve replied.

"What?" Realisation dawned. "You mean JESSE hit you?" Amanda looked at Steve, stupefied. "Why?"

"Relax Amanda we weren’t having a fight. Hell you know Jesse. He’s the least aggressive person I … we", he corrected himself, "know. He was having a bad dream. I got in the way".

"Must have been SOME bad dream", Amanda commented.

---

"Wow!" Mark exclaimed when he saw his son. "What …".

"Jesse – bad dream", Amanda informed Mark. "Speaking of whom. I haven’t seen Jesse today Mark".

"Neither have I", replied Mark. "I was just about to call you son – find out if Jesse was ok. He never showed up today".

"What?" Steve’s brow creased with concern. "But he left the apartment at the usual time. I said I’d meet him here for lunch. If he’s not here then where ….?".

---

Jesse was halfway to the hospital when the shakes had started. Pulling the car to the side of the road he had just managed to get out in time before he vomited up his breakfast. Feeling thoroughly humiliated and knowing that passing drivers would automatically assume that he was suffering the ill effects of an alcohol fuelled evening the night before, Jesse had crawled back into his car, turned around and driven back to his apartment where he had peeled off his clothes and slid into bed, pulling the covers over his head and shutting out the world. He knew that he should call the hospital and tell them that he wasn’t coming in. Knew also that he should phone Steve who would be calling in to see him at lunchtime, but it was all just too much of an effort. He was so tired. So very tired. Jesse let sleep claim him.

---

Jesse felt the bed dip as someone climbed in beside him. Strong powerful arms reached out to pull him close.

"Leave me alone. Please", Jesse mewled softly, curling himself up into an even tighter ball.

"Jesse". Gently – slowly – lovingly – Steve pulled Jesse towards him and rolled the young man over until he was facing him. Jesse’s eyes remained tightly closed – his body totally rigid. "Jesse, it’s Steve. Wake up babe. For me. Please".

"Steve?" Jesse opened his eyes slowly and found himself nose to nose with his lover. "Hi", he smiled sleepily, uncurling his body. "I got sick. I came home. I meant to ring you but I was just too tired. I’m sorry".

"It’s ok", Steve soothed, reaching out to stroke Jesse’s hair. "Babe what’s wrong? Because I know something is. Can’t you tell me?"

"Nothing’s wrong", Jesse murmured. "I just ate something bad is all. I’ll be fine in a day or two".

---

"Oh man that movie was SERIOUSLY bad", Jesse moaned as Steve reached for the remote to switch off the TV.

"That movie was, is", Steve corrected himself, "A classic, sweetheart".

"Yeah right", Jesse snorted, pulling himself upright and yawning loudly. He’d spent all evening alternately dozing, alternately criticising the movie, his head buried into Steve’s strong muscular chest, Steve’s arms wrapped around his body, holding him tight. But now it was time for bed. Jesse was tired – scratch that – he was weary. All he wanted – all he needed – was to sleep for the next thousand years or so.

"Jess". Jesse’s heart sank at the tone of Steve’s voice because he knew what the man was thinking – and what he wanted. And Jesse just - couldn’t …. He turned to face Steve who cupped his face gently in his hands.

"I want you Jess", Steve whispered, brushing his lips gently against Jesse’s, his hands roaming gently over the younger man’s body.

"I ….". Jesse started to say before Steve silenced him with a long lingering kiss. Pushing him gently down on to the sofa Steve unbuttoned Jesse’s shirt, pressing his mouth to the smooth skin of Jesse’s chest, teasing his nipples with his tongue. Then his long tanned fingers reached for the belt buckle of Jesse’s jeans.

"No - please!" Jesse’s face drained of all colour and in the next instant he was racing to the bathroom where he threw up everything he’d eaten that day which hadn’t, he considered ruefully, as his body was wracked with spasm after spasm, been very much since he’d already thrown up the vast majority of it the previous evening and again this morning.

"Oh god". Jesse slumped back against the side of the bath, his body bathed in an icy cold sweat.

"Well that settles it". Steve’s voice was firm as he gathered Jesse up in his arms and carried him through to the bedroom. "I’m taking you to the beach house right now and I’m going to have my father check you over. No Jess, no arguments", said Steve as he wrapped the young man in a blanket. "There’s obviously something wrong with you and I want my dad to take a proper look at you".

---

"Well if it is food poisoning he should be over it in the next day or two", Mark assured Steve as he joined his son in the kitchen for a much needed and much welcomed coffee.

"What do you mean IF?" Steve turned to his father, a concerned look on his face.

"Something about the symptoms just don’t fit Steve", Mark informed his son. "You told me that Jesse was sick yesterday evening. And again this morning?"

"Yes".

"And he told you that he’d eaten seafood?"

"I don’t see …".

"My point is that seafood poisoning is pretty virulent Steve. People don’t tend to be sick just once – well three times in Jesse’s case but the second and third times were at least 12 hours later. Food poisoning is nasty Steve – hell you and I should know that. Remember that time we had that bad lobster?"

"Oh please". Steve waved his hands. He really didn’t want to go there.

"Well then you see my point", Mark continued. "Persistent vomiting, abdominal cramps, profuse sweating, to name just a few. Like I said, we’ve both been there Steve. And Jesse just isn’t exhibiting those kinds of symptoms".

"So what are you saying dad?" Steve turned to face his father, his bright blue eyes filled with concern.

"I’m saying that I think Jesse’s problem is emotional rather than physical", Mark informed his son.

---

Steve slid into bed mindful not to disturb Jesse who lay curled in a ball, knees drawn tightly into his chest. Steve wanted – needed – nothing more than to reach out and pull the young man close to him and make love to him but he sensed that that was the last thing Jesse needed – or wanted – right now. Something was very badly wrong with Jesse and Steve was determined to find out just what was going on.

---

Morning. The first grey fingers of dawn poked through the curtains in Steve’s apartment, dust motes dancing in their probing embrace. A shaft of weak sunlight fell on Jesse’s face. He shifted in his sleep, murmuring incoherently. Beside him Steve, alerted to the movement, wrapped his arms around the young man and pulled him close. Haunted by bad dreams, bad memories, Jesse pressed his body into Steve’s seeking comfort and protection. Steve was awake in an instant, aware of his body’s desperate and insistent need to make love to the young man. He bit down hard on his lip. He was desperate for release but he knew that he couldn’t – mustn’t – rush his lover.

"Jess it’s ok", he soothed, although he wasn’t sure if the young man had heard him.

"Steve", Jesse murmured, pushing his body back against his lover. Steve gasped at the delicious friction of Jesse’s butt against his straining cock. Reaching round tentatively Steve slid his hand underneath the elastic of Jesse’s boxer shorts. Even though they had been together six months Jesse still insisted on sleeping in his underwear. Why Steve wasn’t sure – maybe one day he would find out just why the young man was so intent on protecting his modesty. Slipping his hand beneath the elastic, Steve’s hand settled firmly on Jesse’s as yet flaccid cock. Jesse moaned softly as Steve stroked and coaxed the limp member until it began to twitch into life. Slowly, gently, Steve peeled Jesse’s boxer shorts down and off his body until his lover was totally bare. Rolling Jesse gently on to his back Steve nuzzled his way down Jesse’s chest until he reached his cock, drawing it gently into his mouth.

"Oh Steve …", Jesse moaned.

"Sscch", Steve whispered. "Just relax and enjoy Jess".

Turning his attention back to Jesse’s quivering cock, Steve drew his tongue lightly up and down the throbbing member. Teasing, nipping, licking until Jesse’s shaft was as hard as rock, Steve moved slowly up his lover’s body until he lay on top of the younger man, propping himself up on his elbows to take his body weight from Jesse. With their cocks pressed firmly together Steve began to pump his body against Jesse’s.

"Oh!" Jesse cried out as Steve’s cock ground against his. The delicious friction of skin against skin was almost too much to bear. Steve picked up the rhythm – pumping harder and harder. He was seconds – instants away from orgasm and he knew that Jesse was too.

"Come for me sweetheart", Steve crooned, his voice thick with desire. "I want to feel you … oh god .. Jess". Unable to contain himself any longer, Steve ejaculated, his hot seed spurting over Jesse’s body. Reaching down, Steve clasped his hand around Jesse’s cock, only to discover that it was limp. But …. Steve knew that Jesse hadn’t come. He knew the young man well enough to know that he would never have been able to stay THAT quiet while he was voiding his excitement on his lover.

"Jess?" Steve whispered, raining kisses down on Jesse’s mouth, which was when he found his own full of the coppery taste of blood. "What?" Reaching out Steve switched on the bedside lamp and turned to face Jesse. "Oh Jess", he groaned as he realised that the young man had all but bitten through his lower lip. Blood was pouring down his chin and dripping on to the bed covers. "Wait there and don’t move", he said, heading for the bathroom where he grabbed a towel, wetted it with cold water and brought it back where he gently cleaned up Jesse’s bottom lip, relieved to note that the damage didn’t seem to be as severe as he had at first thought it to be.

"Sorry", Jesse mumbled, rolling back up into a ball. "So sorry Steve".

"Jess? JESS", yelled Steve, alarmed at the way the young man seemed to be visibly withdrawing into himself. "Dammit boy, look at me. Talk to me".

"Leave me alone", Jesse muttered. "Please just leave me alone".

---

"He’s suffering from mild shock", Mark informed Steve bluntly, fixing his son with a steely-eyed glare after he had examined Jesse thoroughly and administered a mild sedative.

"God dad, don’t look at me like that. We were … well that is .. We … " he spluttered. "I thought he was enjoying it", he finished lamely. "But then he just kind of – withdrew into himself. Dad I swear to you I would never do anything to hurt Jesse".

"It’s ok son – I believe you. This has nothing to do with what happened tonight", Mark reassured his son. "I think it all stems from the night Jesse went to dinner with his dad. First thing tomorrow morning you and I are going to call Dane Travis and find out exactly what the HELL happened".

---

"I really appreciate this Amanda", Steve told Amanda as she arrived the next morning to take care of Jesse while Mark and Steve went to see Dane Travis.

"Hey it’s no problem – how is Jesse?"

"Still sleeping", Steve replied. "Dad gave him a pretty strong sedative. He shouldn’t wake for another couple of hours by which time we should be back, hopefully with some answers", he added.

---

"Mark. Steve". Dane Travis greeted both men politely. "I hope you’ll excuse me while I carry on packing but I’m due to catch a flight from LAX this afternoon".

"Oh do please carry on. We’d hate to detain you from your business trip. After all we only came here to discuss your SON Dane. And it’s not as though he’s ever been an important part of your life is it?" Queried mark, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

---

"Jesse and I met for dinner. We had dinner. He left. End of story", Dane Travis informed the Sloans.

"And he had seafood – right?" asked Steve.

"Seafood?" Dane Travis looked at Steve as though he were simple. "God no. Jesse hates seafood. When he was a little boy he was real sick after eating … well anyway", Dane didn’t want to be reminded of the past and how he had walked out on his family. Even now, over 15 years later, he could still see Jesse’s heartbroken face as he ran down the path after his father and begged him not to leave. It was a moment in his life Dane Travis was not proud of. But there had been reasons. And one day he might be able to sit down and tell Jesse why he had left. Until then ….

"Jesse had steak", Dane informed them. "It was Paul who had the seafood".

"Paul? Who is Paul?" asked Mark.

"Paul Trent. He’s a … business acquaintance of mine. We bumped into each other at LAX. I invited him along to dinner. Paul used to be a frequent visitor to my home until … well .. Until I left. He and Jesse seemed to get on well". Dane paused, frowning.

"What?" Steve demanded.

"I thought Jess would be pleased to see Paul again", he said. "It was one of the reasons I invited the man along to dinner. But when Jess saw him ….. ", Dane paused for a long moment as he relived that night.

"Are you going to tell us Travis or do I have to beat the information out of you?" growled Steve.

"When Jesse saw Paul I wasn’t sure whether he was going to faint or puke – or both", Dane continued. "As it was he barely said a word throughout the whole meal and he didn’t touch his food. Total waste of a good dinner but then Jesse has always been a …. Difficult kid", he added. "I’ve never understood him. Probably never will".

"Hardly surprising since you walked out on him when he was just a kid", Steve snapped. "He’s had a hell of a life Dane. A mother who was more interested in her career than her child. A father who couldn’t have cared less whether he was alive or dead and precious few – if any - friends. God", Steve expostulated.

"Taking it rather personally aren’t you Steve?" Dane’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, as his eyes swept over the tall rangy detective.

"Someone has to look out for Jesse – since it’s clear you aren’t going to", snapped Steve.

"Want to take my place Steve? Or – maybe", Dane paused for a long moment. "You already have? Only not as a father".

"What kind of a man is this Paul Trent?" asked Mark in an attempt to steer the conversation back on track and away from Steve. Time enough for revelations later thought Mark. Right now they needed to concentrate on Jesse and what was bothering him.

"Cold hearted bastard. I never much cared for him", said Dane, turning his attention back to his packing. "But he seemed to get on ok with Jesse. Took him to the movies, played softball with him. That kind of stuff".

"The kind of stuff YOU should have been doing Travis", Steve said coldly, his heart going out to Jesse. How in the hell the young man had ever survived such a cold and loveless childhood and adolescence was beyond him. It was testimony to Jesse’s inner strength that he hadn’t ended up with a whole mess of emotional problems. Steve ached to get back to his lover and lavish love and attention on him and try in some small way to compensate for his barren upbringing.

"Whatever". Dane dismissed the criticism. "Easy to be judgmental when you don’t have kids Steve. Wait until you do. That’s if you ever do", he added.

"He knows", thought Steve as he met Dane Travis’ cold hearted stare. "Oh well what the hell – at least I love his son which is more than he’s ever been capable of".

"You said Trent was in LA?" Mark could sense the rising tension in the room and was trying his hardest to diffuse the situation.

"He was", Dane shrugged. "I don’t know what his plans were Mark. Like I said he was an acquaintance. Our paths cross occasionally. He always asks after Jesse though. Seemed really pleased to see him that night. Unlike Jesse. Now if you’ll excuse me – I have to finish packing".

---

"I don’t guess that I have to tell you that you have to handle this issue VERY carefully Steve", said Mark as they drove back to the beach house.

"I know that dad. God but how I wished I’d beaten Dane Travis to a pulp while I had the chance. The man is a cold unfeeling monster. That poor kid … ", Steve’s voice broke. "He’s never had anyone there for him".

"He has now", Mark said quietly.

"Yes". Steve shot a grateful look in his father’s direction. "He has now".

---

"Oh wow that was GREAT", enthused Jesse as he flopped down on the sand. "Those waves are just awesome. Say – you want to go out again?"

"In a minute Jess. There’s something I want … need .. To discuss with you".

"Oh?" Steve hated the way Jesse’s beautiful face clouded over and shut down but he knew that the moment couldn’t be put off any longer. Because if the two of them were to have any kind of relationship in the future then Jesse had to learn to open up his heart and trust Steve. If not … Steve really didn’t want to go there. He loved Jesse too much to even want to think about the possibility of losing him.

"If this is about eating in the hospital canteen then I don’t mind – really I don’t", Jesse babbled. "Say Steve I’m kind of hungry right now. Do you think we could go get something to eat?"

"No Jess. Not right now. Right now I want you to tell me about Paul Trent", Steve replied softly.

---

"Who?" Jesse asked glibly.

"Nice try Jess. But I already know that you had dinner with the guy the night you met your father".

"You’ve been CHECKING up on me?" Jesse looked at Steve incredulously. "What – didn’t you think I was meeting my dad? Did you think I was meeting another man – is that it Steve?"

"No Jesse". Steve kept his voice calm. "That’s not it. But you have to admit that you haven’t been yourself since you met your dad for dinner. You’ve been sick, edgy and you haven’t wanted to make love – in fact you’ve gone out of your way to avoid it".

"Oh well HEY Steve I’m SORRY, but has it maybe just occurred to you that I don’t want to make love with you any more? That I might have got bored with you? That you don’t turn me on anymore? That maybe we … us … is OVER?"

Before Steve had a chance to reply Jesse had leapt to his feet and had taken off running towards the beach house.

---

"Shit shit SHIT", muttered Jesse as he raced into the beach house and down to Steve’s apartment where he stripped off his wetsuit and began pulling on his clothes. He was out of here and he didn’t care if he never saw Steve Sloan again. How DARE he snoop around behind his back? Checking up on him? He was just lacing up his trainers when Steve burst into the room.

"I’m out of here", Jesse snarled, pushing himself to his feet. "And out of your life as from this exact moment in time".

"Oh I don’t think so". Steve’s eyes glittered dangerously. "You have to get past me first Jesse and", Steve’s eyes swept over Jesse’s diminutive frame. "That’s not going to be much of a contest is it?"

"Oh fuck you Sloan. Get out of my way", Jesse yelled, hurling himself at Steve.

"Jess – for god’s sake", Steve hissed as he grappled with his lover. "Don’t fight me. I’m not the enemy here. I love you. I always will. Just … let me HELP you. Please?"

"I don’t need your help Sloan", Jesse replied scornfully. "I’ve managed all my life on my own. Now get OUT of my way".

"Ok that’s it". Steve’s patience finally snapped. Scooping Jesse up in a fireman’s’ lift and throwing the man over his shoulder he crossed over to the bed where he hurled Jesse down on the soft counterpane, before throwing himself down on top of the young man, pinning him to the bed. "Now you can fight me as much as you like Jesse", he added as his lover struggled ineffectually to push Steve off him, "But you are NOT going anywhere until you and I have talked – really talked – about what’s been going on. Jess", Steve reached out and cupped Jesse’s face in both hands. "I love you and I want to help you. Don’t push me away. Please?"

"I don’t … I can’t …".

"Jesse – baby – take your time", soothed Steve. "I’m here for you", he added, raining kisses down on Jesse’s face. "I always will be. Don’t be afraid. Trust me. Please?"

"I … trust you", Jesse whispered. "Make love to me Steve. Now. Here".

"Jess!" Steve pulled away from his lover in astonishment. That request was the last thing he had expected.

"Please. I need to feel you inside me Steve. Now", he urged.

"No Jess".

"Yes", Jesse breathed, pressing his body against Steve’s. "Please?"

"And what will that solve?" Steve asked softly. "Jess we have talk about this. Because if we don’t …".

"Get off me".

"What?"

"I said GET OFF ME", Jesse yelled at the top of his voice, pushing against Steve who was so surprised at the vehemence in Jesse’s voice that he released his grip and in the next instant found himself on the floor, an infuriated Jesse towering over him.

"I want to make love – you want to talk. Classic case of incompatibility if you ask me", Jesse said calmly before bolting up the stairs.

"Jess – wait". Steve was on his feet and after Jesse in seconds. He caught up with the young man at the top of the stairs. "Babe please", he begged, reaching out to touch Jesse lightly on the arm, astonished when the young man whirled round and threw a punch at him. Steve ducked the blow, let Jesse follow it through and then grabbed the young man firmly under the arms and dragged him through to the living room where he all but flung him down on the sofa.

"Now", he said, breathing heavily. "You are not moving from that spot until we have talked this through. Paul Trent".

Silence.

"Dammit it Jess – why are you being so …. Stubborn", yelled Steve, crossing over to the young man and shaking him hard. "Paul Trent", he shouted. He knew it was brutal – cruel even. But he had to break through Jesse’s barriers.

Cupping Jesse’s face in his strong powerful hands Steve brought his face close to Jesse’s until they were mere inches apart.

"Paul Trent, " he said gently. Tell me".

Hot scalding tears began to spill down Jesse’s face and his face creased up in anguish.

"He raped me", he whispered. "When I was 11 years old Paul Trent raped me".

---

"Paul used to come round all the time – while my dad was still at home anyway", Jesse added. "I liked the guy. He was … like I figured a dad should be. Attentive, kind, funny. We played softball – went to the movies. He was there for me when my dad wasn’t which was most of the time", Jesse added ruefully.

Steve pulled the young man closer to him. They were sitting on the floor, Jesse tucked firmly between Steve’s long legs, his head resting back on Steve’s chest.

"Paul used to say that if he’d ever had a son he would have liked him to be like me", Jesse continued, laughing bitterly. "I trusted him Steve. My dad was so cold – so distant and it was great to have a man like Paul who wanted to do father/son stuff with me. I never realised …".

"What happened?" Steve asked softly.

"He called round one afternoon. Mom was out at work and dad – well he wasn’t around. I let Paul in. I had no reason not to. I trusted him. We went into the kitchen and then he … he …".

"It’s ok babe", Steve kissed Jesse gently on the cheek. "Take your time. You’re safe now remember that".

"I know". Jesse smiled up at Steve gratefully. "I went to the fridge to get some sodas and that’s when he hit me". Jesse reached up to rub the back of his head as though he could still feel the blow. "When I came round he was pulling off my clothes. He pushed me up against the kitchen counter and then he …. I’m sorry Steve but I’m gonna be sick". Scrambling to his feet Jesse just made it to the kitchen sink where he dry heaved over and over again.

"Guess I’ve got nothing left to come up", he admitted ruefully as Steve led him back to the sofa.

"What happened after that?" Steve enquired gently.

"He left – eventually".

"What? Jess – what do you mean eventually? How long was he …. Did he?"

"One hour – maybe two. After the second time he … I kind of retreated into myself. I don’t remember much until I heard the door slam when he left", Jesse replied.

"Oh my god", moaned Steve, enveloping Jesse in his strong tanned arms wishing that he could eradicate the nightmare the young man had suffered.

"I lay on the kitchen floor for what felt like forever", Jesse continued. "Those kitchen tiles were cold", he added, laughing shakily. "And then I realised my mom would soon be home and so I went upstairs and took a long hot bath, got dressed and went down to start fixing supper. My mom came home a little while after that. We had supper and then I told her I wasn’t feeling too well and I went to bed".

"You never TOLD your parents what happened?" Steve looked at Jesse aghast.

"Trent told me while he was …. Well that if I said a word to anyone he would come back and the next time he wouldn’t stop at just raping me – he would kill me" Jesse replied wearily. "So I just … pretended it had never happened. I never saw Trent after that night – not until last week. And then I just …. When I saw him sitting at the table, grinning at me, I felt like I was 11 years old again and he was …. I can’t talk about it anymore Steve. I don’t want to think about it anymore ok? It happened and it’s over".

---

"How is he?" asked Mark.

"Cried himself to sleep eventually", Steve replied, helping himself to a cup of coffee – strong and black. "God dad". Steve raked a hand through his soft brown hair. "The poor kid – he’s lived with that …. Nightmare since he was 11 years old". Steve looked on the verge of tears himself. "What makes a man …?". Steve’s voice tailed off.

"Not a man", Mark replied softly. "A monster".

---

"Steve – will you please QUIT fussing. I’m fine – really", said Jesse as, upon their return to Jesse’s apartment the following morning, Steve constantly checked on his lover. Was his coffee ok – did he want any more toast? "Now I’m going to grab a quick shower and get dressed then I’d due on shift at the hospital. So I guess I’ll see you later and you can take me to lunch in the hospital canteen", he added, smiling.

"The canteen no less", Steve rolled his eyes with delight. "Maybe I’m finally beginning to educate you in the culinary delights of Community General".

"Maybe I’ve finally realised that there’s no point in fighting you on that issue any longer", replied Jesse, grinning.

"I love you Jess", Steve said quietly, reaching out and tracing a finger gently down Steve’s face.

"I love you too", whispered Jesse. "Now go!" he added forcefully. "And I’ll see you later".

---

Jesse had just gotten dressed and was about to grab another cup of coffee before leaving for the hospital when the doorbell rang. Whistling cheerfully he flung the door open – and froze.

Paul Trent stood in the doorway.

---

When he had recovered from the initial shock Jesse reacted fast – but not as fast as Paul Trent. As Jesse made to slam the door so Paul threw his weight against it – and his weight was considerable. The man was a good 6’5 inches tall and every inch of that was solid muscle. Jesse didn’t stand a chance as the man entered his apartment as effectively as a bullet out of a gun, slamming the door behind him.

"Hey Jess", Paul whispered. "I couldn’t leave without coming to say goodbye to you now could I?"

---

Dane Travis would never know what made him change his flight reservations. He was all packed and ready to go – had even got so far as the airport when something … some niggling doubt … caused him to re-arrange his flight for the following day before piling back into a cab.

And now he stood outside his son’s apartment the following morning wondering just what in the HELL he was doing here.

---

"You grew up and filled out Jesse", Paul Trent whispered, his eyes raking over Jesse’s body. "You were such a skinny little thing when you were a kid". Reaching out Trent ran a hand down the side of Jesse’s face. "Oh we are going to have such a GOOD time", he added, reaching down to take Jesse’s hand in his and leading him in the direction of the bedroom.

"Move! Do something! Anything!" Jesse’s mind screamed, but his body simply refused to obey. He felt as though he had been frozen in ice and all he could do was to allow the man to tug him towards the bedroom, towards the bed. He was 11 years old again and Paul Trent had him pinned up against the kitchen counter while he thrust into him over and over again, muttering a constant stream of filth into the terrified young boy’s ear.

But as they approached the bed – the bed he shared with Steve – where they had made love over and over – gentle, wonderful, passionate and caring love, Jesse balked and his mind became free. There was no WAY that he would allow Trent to defile him again – defile the bed where he and Steve …. The man would have to kill him first.

"No", Jesse yelled, pulling away from the man and heading towards the apartment door.

---

Dane rang the doorbell. Once. No answer. He tried again. Still no answer. His son was obviously not in – had maybe already left for the hospital. Oh well he had tried, thought Dane, as he turned away and headed for the elevator.

Which was when he heard the crash.

---

"Goddam you", Trent yelled, grabbing hold of Jesse and punching him once – twice – three times in the face. Jesse dropped like a stone to the floor, blood pouring from his nose. He shook his head – bad mistake – the room spun wildly. Crawling backwards in an attempt to evade Trent, Jesse’s head connected with the sharp edge of the coffee table and for a brief moment he saw stars before flipping over and crawling on his hands and knees for the door. He had to … had to …

"No one gets away from me kid – you of all people should know that", snapped Trent, reaching down and grabbing Jesse by the hair before hauling him to his feet, spinning him round, and delivering three brutal punches to Jesse’s chest and abdomen. Jesse cried out but in the next instant his cries were muffled as Trent turned him again, clamped one hand over Jesse’s mouth and pushed him down onto the ground, his hands tearing at Jesse’s clothes.

"Never realised you liked it rough kid", Trent gasped as he ripped Jesse’s shirt in two. "Well don’t worry I won’t disappoint you", he added, leaning forward and sinking his teeth into the soft flesh of Jesse’s neck before biting down – hard. Jesse’s scream was muffled in Trent’s meaty palm. He fought back ferociously but his body was just no match for Trent.

"Keep fighting kid – I get off on the fear – I always have", he muttered, as he threw Jesse down on the ground.

The world was turning from grey to black to …… Jesse knew that he was probably going to die in this tiny apartment if he didn’t do something – anything – to help himself. He wasn’t 11 years old anymore – he was a grown man and he wouldn’t allow this man to … to …

Jesse bit down hard on the meaty flesh of Trent’s palm, his teeth sinking through the salty flesh. Trent howled with pain and released his grip. It wasn’t much but it was enough. Jesse screamed for help at the top of his lungs before reaching sideways and picking up the small reading lamp which neither he or Steve had ever used and which had just sat slowly gathering dust ever since Jesse had moved into the apartment.

"You little …", Trent snarled, wrapping his arm around Jesse’s throat, pulling him backwards like a string on a bow. Jesse gagged helplessly and a red mist began to form in front of his eyes. With the last piece of strength he had he threw the lamp as hard as he could. It crashed against the front door before shattering into a myriad of pieces.

"Guess I’ll have to kill you now Jesse", said Trent, as calmly as he would order a pizza. "But I’ll have a little fun with you first".

---

Dane Travis delivered a swift and efficient kick to the door of Jesse’s apartment. The door burst back on its hinges to reveal …. Dane stood for a moment transfixed with shock as his eyes took in the scene before him. Jesse lay half naked and barely conscious on the floor, his face and body bruised and bloodied while … Dane’s eyes travelled up in disbelief to Paul Trent who was straddling his son, one arm locked around Jesse’s throat choking the life out of him while he prepared to ….

"Get away from my son you sick BASTARD", yelled Dane, launching himself at the man.

Trent released his grip on Jesse who slumped to the ground, before turning to face Dane Travis.

"Oh come on now Travis. Let’s not lose our tempers over this. It’s not like your son doesn’t know what to expect. This isn’t our first time after all".

"What? What the HELL are you talking about?" snapped Dane, his eyes darting over to where Jesse lay, white and motionless.

"What I MEAN Travis is that your son was sweet meat", Trent replied tauntingly. "I was his first but I bet I wasn’t his last", he added spitefully.

"You ….". Dane snarled, launching himself at the man, his body connecting with Trent’s, knocking them both to the ground where they rolled over and over, sending furniture and ornaments flying. "I’ll kill you, you sick pervert", Dane screamed his hands fastened around Trent’s throat. "If you’ve hurt my son".

"Oh I didn’t just HURT your son Travis", Trent gloated, gasping for breath. "I SCREWED your son"

"What?" Dane was so shocked at that revelation that he momentarily loosened his grip on Trent, which was all the man, needed. Reaching up Trent dealt Dane Travis a savage blow to his face, knocking him backward before scrambling to his feet.

"Oh yeah Travis. You trusted me with your kid. Thought I was a surrogate father. And I was. I took him to the movies – played softball with him. He liked me – trusted me – it was perfect. He never had a clue when I called around while you and your wife were out. He thought I was good old "Uncle Trent"".

"Shut up", said Dane as he struggled to his feet.

"He went to the fridge to get a soda for us both", Trent continued. "He never had a clue. I clubbed him on the back of the head and by the time he came round – well let’s just say that I had a lot of fun with him Dane – a helluva lot of fun. Of course he screamed – a lot – but then there was no one around to hear him – your wife was at work and you - well hell Dane you were never there were you? So I had hours of endless pleasure with Jesse – and I do MEAN hours", the man added, smiling at the memory.

"I said shut the HELL up", snapped Dane. "I’ll kill you Trent. No one hurts my son". Dane glanced over in Jesse’s direction. His son remained motionless. Alarm bells went off in Dane’s head.

"He looks pretty bad Dane", said Trent. "Guess I might have squeezed a little too hard. You’d better check him out".

Torn between his desire to beat the crap out of Trent and his instinctive need to protect his son, Dane crossed over to where Jesse lay in a crumpled heap. By the time he had rolled Jesse gently on to his back, Trent had gone.

---

"Dad", Jesse mumbled as he regained consciousness, astonished to find himself cradled in his father’s arms. "Call Steve. Please. I need Steve".

"Later Jess – I’m going to call 911".

"NO!" Jesse croaked. "Please dad – I want – I need Steve".

"Ok son", replied Dane, placing the call to the precinct right after he called 911.

---

"Steve Sloan", announced Steve as he answered the strident ring of his phone.

"Steve. It’s Dane Travis. I need for you to come to Jesse’s apartment. Right now".

Steve hadn’t asked questions. The tone of the man’s voice had been serious enough. Grabbing his jacket Steve had fled the office, arriving at Jesse’s apartment building a little over 20 minutes later, just in time to see Jesse’s inert body being carried on a stretcher to a waiting ambulance.

"Oh god – Jess". Steve visibly wilted at the sight of his lover.

"Steve", Jesse whispered, his hand reaching out from under the blanket. "I tried to … fight him … I really did … my dad …". Jesse lost consciousness.

"We need to get him to Community General right now – he’s in pretty bad shape Lieutenant", the paramedic informed Steve.

"I’m going with him", said Steve.

"So am I". Steve whirled around to find Dane Travis, his face as white as paper, standing behind him. Both men regarded one another silently before they climbed into the ambulance.

"You … love my son?" said Dane, turning to face Steve.

"Yes I do", Steve replied firmly. And to hell with the consequences he thought as he fixed Dane Travis with a cold and hostile glare.

"I’m glad", replied Dane. "He needs someone who cares about him".

They rode the rest of the way in silence.

---

"How is he dad?" asked Steve, as Mark entered the doctor’s lounge a little over three hours later. Since they had arrived at Community General and Jesse had been whisked away from him Steve had been pacing the floor of the tiny room until Dane had finally begged him to sit down, complaining that Steve was making him dizzy!

"Sit down Steve before you collapse and I’ll tell you", he added, guiding his son gently over to the sofa where Dane was already sitting, his face grey and drawn. "Now". Mark drew up a chair, which he placed directly opposite both men, sat down and smiled at them both reassuringly.

"Jesse has four broken ribs - one of them had punctured his lung and he was having great difficulty breathing. We’ve put in a chest tube and reinflated the lung and I don’t anticipate any further problems but he WILL have to take things very gently for the next couple of weeks to allow the ribs time to heal", he warned Steve.

"I’ll make sure he rests dad - you can be sure of that", replied Steve. "What else?"

"His right elbow was dislocated but we’ve manipulated that back into place and strapped his arm up. He has a nasty gash to the back of his head so he’s going to have one helluva headache when he wakes up. I thought initially his nose was broken - he took a couple of nasty blows to the face - but upon further investigation it’s just very badly bruised. He’s sporting two beautiful black eyes though", he added. "He also", Mark hesitated before continuing, "has a very nasty bite on his neck. It will leave a scar Steve – a bad one", he added regretfully. "And not just on Jesse’s body", he added silently.

"God that SICK bastard", muttered Dane. "If I hadn’t changed my flight reservation …".

The three men looked at one another silently. None of them wanted to voice the unspeakable thought that if Dane hadn’t changed his flight then they might not be standing here now in the doctor’s lounge – but in the hospital morgue.

"Can I see him dad?" Steve asked anxiously.

"Of course - Dane?"

Dane shook his head. "I’ll uh … leave you to see him Steve. I have something I need to attend to".

"Can’t it wait?" Steve asked harshly unable to believe that the man could walk out of the hospital without even taking a minute to see his son.

"No, I’m afraid that it can’t", Dane replied icily, turning to face Steve. "Please tell Jesse that I’ll call and see him later. He doesn’t need me right now Steve", he added softly. "He needs you".

---

"Hey babe", Steve whispered, reaching out to stroke a stray strand of thick blond hair away from Jesse’s face.

"Steve?" Jesse’s eyes were so bruised and swollen that he couldn’t see anything but he reacted instinctively to the sound of his lover’s voice. One trembling hand crept out from under the bedcovers. Steve took it gently between his and squeezed it firmly.

"I’m right here Jess".

"Don’t leave me", begged Jesse. "Please?"

"Never sweetheart - that’s a promise", Steve replied, letting go of Jesse’s hand just long enough to pull up a chair before sitting down next to his lover’s bed where he once again took Jesse’s hand in his and sat watching as the powerful painkillers Mark had prescribed took effect and pulled Jesse into a deep and (Steve hoped) dreamless sleep.

---

No one was overly surprised when Dane Travis failed to return to the hospital.

---

"Where are we going?" asked Jesse as he shifted uncomfortably in the passenger seat of Steve’s car. "This isn’t the way to my apartment".

"We’re not going to your apartment", Steve informed Jesse. "I’m taking you to the beach house. You’re staying with me".

"But - my things - my clothes and stuff".

"All taken care of", replied Steve who had no intention of letting Jesse set foot inside his apartment for the foreseeable future - not after what had happened to him. Jesse was trying his hardest to be strong but Steve knew that was just a façade. Emotionally Jesse was shattered - his recent ordeal had dredged up the terrible nightmare he had suffered at the hands of Paul Trent when he was 11 years old and he had woken up every night for the past week screaming and crying and thrashing around in the narrow hospital bed. Sometimes Steve - who was sleeping in a cot in the corner of the room - had been able to calm him down - but twice he had been so close to hysteria that Mark had had to administer a strong sedative. If Steve could have gotten his hands on Paul Trent he would have taken the greatest pleasure in breaking every bone in the man’s body before taking out his gun and putting a bullet through his brain - except Paul Trent had disappeared. Despite exhaustive enquiries no leads as to his whereabouts had been uncovered. The very fact that he was still at large was not helping Jesse who was turning into a shadow of his former self. He was wide-eyed, nervous and jumpy and he’d lost a huge amount of weight. Despite all of Steve’s, Mark’s and Amanda’s efforts the most anyone could persuade him to eat at every meal was a few mouthfuls - barely enough to keep a sparrow alive. Steve was pinning all his hopes on the fact that Jesse would begin to rally once he was away from the hospital and safely installed at the beach house. He had to hope that because the alternative - that Jesse may never recover - didn’t bear thinking about.

FOUR DAYS LATER

"Didn’t he eat ANYTHING?" asked Mark as Steve returned with the breakfast tray.

"One mouthful of toast – and half a cup of coffee", Steve replied grimly, placing the tray loaded with food on the kitchen counter. "I don’t know what to do dad. He won’t talk to me – he’s withdrawing into himself. I’m losing him dad and I don’t know have the faintest clue what to do about it".

---

Jesse went into the bathroom and closed the door before turning to face his reflection in the mirror over the sink. Taking a deep breath he undid the bathrobe and stood looking for a long long time at the bite mark on his neck. It was an indelible and permanent reminder of what had happened – of Paul Trent. Jesse reached up to touch the ragged and ugly wound and his eyes filled with tears. He knew then what he had to do.

---

"I …", Steve was interrupted by the doorbell.

"I’ll get it son", said Mark. "You go back and check on Jesse".

As Steve headed downstairs to his apartment, Mark opened the front door – astonished to find Dane Travis standing on the doorstop.

"Mark", Dane nodded at the distinguished white-haired doctor. "I came to see my son. I have something I need to tell him".

"Dad – DAD! – Help me please". At the sound of Steve’s panic stricken voice Mark abandoned Dane on the front step and headed for Steve’s apartment, taking the steps three at a time. He found Steve in the bathroom, cradling Jesse’s unconscious body in his arms. The bathroom floor was covered in blood, most of it pumping out from a hideous gash in Jesse’s neck. A bloodied razor blade nearby.

"Oh god dad", Steve sobbed. "He … he ….".

"Move out of the way son – let me see". Mark tried to keep his voice calm for his son’s sake but even he, a seasoned doctor, was shocked by what Jesse had done. The young man had taken a razor to the bite mark on his neck and seemed to have done his level best to cut it out of his body.

"Oh Christ", Dane muttered, as he stumbled on the scene. "What can I do to help Mark?"

"I need towels and ice – lots of it", Mark snapped, gathering Jesse’s slight frame up in his arms, shocked by how little he weighed. "Living room", he added. "Steve – STEVE", Mark snapped, turning to his white-faced son. "Get my medical bag – it’s in my bedroom. NOW son", he barked. "We don’t have any time to waste".

---

"God Jess", Steve whispered as Jesse regained consciousness after what seemed to Steve an interminable length of time. "What were you thinking of? Why did you do this?"

"It made me feel so ugly", Jesse replied dully. "And I thought that if I could … get rid of it somehow then you might want to touch me again because since I’ve been staying with you, you haven’t … we haven’t ….", his voice tailed off helplessly.

"What?" Steve looked at the young man in astonishment. "Jess - I haven’t touched you because I was afraid of hurting you. It has absolutely nothing to do with this", he added, indicating the wound on Jesse’s neck.

"Really?" Steve could have cried at the fact that Jesse could have entertained the thought, even for one moment, that he would ever - could ever - find his lover physically repugnant.

"Really", Steve affirmed. "I love you Jess - nothing will ever change that. Ever", he added firmly.

"I’m so afraid Steve", Jesse murmured "What if Trent decides to come back?"

---

"How is he Mark?" Dane Travis enquired.

"Do you really care?" Mark asked coldly, turning to face the man.

"Yes I care", Dane said quietly. "More than you could ever imagine".

"Pardon me if I don’t believe you Dane", Mark replied caustically.

"Can I talk to him Mark? Will he understand me?"

Mark glanced over to where Jesse lay white faced and silent on the sofa, his head cradled in Steve’s lap. The wound on his neck had – despite the profusity of blood thankfully – proved superficial. After he’d cleaned it up and covered it with a dressing Mark had given Jesse a strong sedative.

"Yes he’ll understand you", said Mark. "Although what you can say to him that will help ….", Mark’s voice tailed off. What could any of them say or do to help Jesse.

---

"Jess. Jesse". Dane crouched down next to his son. "Son – I have something to tell you and I need for you to pay attention to me do you hear?"

"Leave him alone Travis", Steve growled menacingly. "Haven’t you caused him enough damage?"

"Trust me Sloan", Dane raised his cold clear blue eyes to those of Steve’s. "He needs to hear this. Jesse". Dane returned his attention to his son.

"I can hear you dad – stop giving Steve such a hard time", Jesse mumbled. "He … ".

"Loves you? Yes I know that Jesse", said Dane, raising his eyes to meet those of Steve’s, a flicker of a smile crossing his face. "And I didn’t mean to give him a hard time. I came to tell you something Jesse and I only wish I’d gotten here sooner son to stop you hurting yourself".

"I’m tired dad", Jesse replied fretfully. "What do you want?"

"I came to tell you that Paul Trent is dead Jesse. You don’t have to worry about him anymore. He’ll never hurt you again", said Dane.

---

"Trent’s body was pulled out of the LA River this morning", Dane continued. "The coroner contacted me after one of my business cards was found in his wallet. I went down and identified the body and then came straight here to tell you".

"He .. He’s really dead?" asked Jesse. "You’re sure dad? Because sometimes when a body’s been in the water a while it’s hard to make a positive identification".

"It was Trent Jesse - of that I’m certain", replied Dane, noting how all the tension visibly drained from Jesse’s body. "You’re safe now son and I want you to concentrate on getting well. And now", he added briskly, "It’s time for me to be leaving. I have a flight at noon".

"You … you can’t stay for a few days?" Steve winced at the pleading tone in Jesse’s voice and he silently willed Dane Travis to say that, yes, he could stay and spend some time with his son. He should have known better. Dane Travis had no time for Jesse - he never had had.

"No son - I have urgent business", replied Dane, watching as Jesse’s face clouded over with disappointment. "Maybe another time".

"Yeah sure dad". Jesse replied wearily. "Maybe in another three years or so, huh?"

Dane stood looking down at his son for a long moment wishing that things could be different, knowing they never would be. Jesse struggled to return his father’s level gaze but the sedative Mark had given him was too powerful for him to fight and he fell asleep in Steve’s arms.

---

"Jesse and your son - how long have they ….?" asked Dane as Mark walked him to his car.

"Six months", replied Mark.

"They seem happy", Dane commented.

"They are - very".

"I’m glad - Jesse hasn’t had a very happy life Mark - and the blame for that can be placed very firmly on his mother and I. I’m glad he’s found someone like your son to give him the love and attention he deserves. And now - I really do have to be going", he added.

"What Jesse said - about bodies being unrecognisable when they’ve been in the water a while", said Mark, reaching out and placing a restraining hand on Dane’s arm. "CAN you be sure it was Paul Trent?"

"Oh yes Mark - 100% sure. Because it was me who killed him".

---

Mark walked slowly back to the house still trying to digest what Dane Travis had told him. He supposed he should have guessed - Dane Travis had never looked like an accountant to him. But a CIA agent!

"Maybe I’ll tell Jesse one day", Dane informed Mark. "But then again - they say ignorance is bliss Mark. Perhaps it’s best that he never finds out".

"Yes", replied Mark. "Perhaps it is".

---

"Hey sleepy head - how are you feeling?" asked Steve as Jesse woke several hours later and struggled to sit up.

"I’m starving", Jesse announced. "In fact I’m so hungry that I could eat you", he added, turning and grinning wickedly at Steve.

"Later", Steve promised, kissing his lover gently on the top of his head. "In the meantime, I’ll go fix us both something to eat".

THE END