Disclaimer: I still own nothing. Go figure.

AN: Um. Hi. You know, eight years ago I started writing this little story. I had a plan and an idea of where I wanted it to go but I'm not sure I was entirely prepared for the whole experience of sharing my writing. I was seventeen, bookish and shy. I am not the most accomplished writer and even though I received good feedback, I could never satisfy myself enough. Quite often we are, after all, our own harshest critics. I had been snooping around for a year or so, reading and reading and reading, bowled over by this interactive world of stories. I created an account purely to leave reviews for people but soon that wasn't enough – I wanted to give more than reviews. I set up a new account, took a deep breath and let go. The reaction this story generated was a total shock and was so wonderful I could hardly believe it. At the same time, life was growing more and more complicated. The onset of crippling self-consciousness was a battle that waged day in and day out. Eventually it won and despite such positive reinforcement, I put down my pen.

I have never forgotten this story, or its dear reviewers. I have never forgotten the bubbling sensations of amazement that arrived with every review. The fact that someone had taken precious time to enjoy my story meant the whole world to me and it still does. I knew that someday I would be brave enough to finish this and now I feel ready. My greatest hope is that everyone who has been waiting, perhaps even given up hope, can forgive me for taking so long to find that courage. Thank you all very much.

Swimming back to lucidity was a rather unpleasant experience for Jesse. As he struggled towards consciousness, his muddled thoughts began to search for memories that might give him an idea as to why his head felt ready to burst and why his stomach was rolling like the surf in the ocean. Is that where he'd been? Surfing?

His body certainly felt like it had been under recent strain, the leaden sensation in his limbs indicating exhaustion or maybe trauma. Had he hit his head on his surfboard? With the ringing and muffled pressure pushing into his head through his ears distorting any possible sounds he could be hearing, Jesse began to panic. If he'd hit his head while surfing, he concluded, then he must be under water. He gave an almighty cough, trying to expel any water in his lungs. The pressure of the ocean crushing his chest as his stomach contents began to crawl up his throat reminding him that if he vomited under water he would surely drown.

Jesse kicked towards the surface with all his strength, fighting every instinct he had to allow the comfort of unconsciousness to envelope him in darkness once more. His head was throbbing and heavy, his eyelids seemingly swollen though he knew he had to open them, to look up to the light. As he neared the surface, his hearing began to clear somewhat and Jesse slowly became aware of voices. Urgent voices.

"Jesse, stop," a familiar voice urged. "Easy, you're ok. Just take it easy. Stay still, Jess, hold still."

Hold still? Did they want him to drown?

He coughed again, flinching at the agony that blossomed in his head, the pain searing every nerve ending in his body. The nausea rose in his throat again threatening to choke him and he flailed, desperately trying to sit up. The voices calling his name seemed to realise this and he heard them change their minds about moving him.

"Help me turn him on his side, Steve," he heard, and within seconds he could feel strong hands rolling him over carefully. A large, warm palm settled in the middle of his back, kindly supporting him as he heaved. When he had finished, he felt himself being propped up against something soft and it occurred to him that he was most certainly not in any body of water.

"Jess, you with us?" The same voice asked. He knew that voice and when he figured out who it was, it was all he could do not to let out a sob of relief.

"Mark? Steve?" His own voice was raspy but it was enough to bring sighs of satisfaction from his friends. A straw prodded gently at his lips and the first sips of cool, refreshing water felt like heaven on his tongue.

"Yeah, Jess," he hear Steve's voice rumble behind him. "We're here."

Forcing his puffy eyelids open, Jesse managed a weak smile at his friends. Everything was slowly starting to come back to him; washing the cars, feeling sick, being admitted to Community General and… Oh. The washroom. Realising what had happened; an overwhelming sensation of gratitude flooded him as he squinted weakly at Mark and Steve.

"Thanks guys."

Mark smiled proudly at his protégé and laid a gentle hand on his forehead.

"No need, Jess. You had us worried for a moment there," the kind doctor's eye crinkled at the edges with a smile. "Your fever broke a little while ago and you've come through that concussion pretty well. I'll be asking you the obligatory questions in just a minute."

Mark patted Jesse's shoulder affectionately and stepped back to raid the shelf in the recovery room for a pen light. He returned and gently lifted each of Jesse's eyelids, shining the light in them expertly. Jesse managed to answer each of his questions correctly and to Mark's relief his pupil reactions were returning to normal.

"Everything looks fine, Jess," Mark concluded. "You have seven stitches thanks to that fall you took in the washroom, so your head is going to feel pretty tender for a while. I'd love to know what you were thinking, locking yourself in there alone in the condition you were in," he added, raising an eyebrow.

"I… I thought I'd be ok. To be honest, I kinda just wanted some privacy, you know? Some peace and quiet. It's one thing to be a patient but to be a patient in your own hospital? Not a very relaxing experience," Jesse offered feebly.

"Jess, you could have died in there," Steve pointed out, unimpressed at his explanation. He wasn't angry with his friend per se, but he was not so pleased to hear that Jesse risked his life for the sake of his pride.

"I'd rather not get too far into it right now, Steve. We're lucky there won't be any permanent damage," Mark reminded him.

"With any luck, nothing like this will be allowed to happen again," Steve grunted and returned to his chair.

"Allowed?" Jesse's voice quivered. "What do you mean?" He settled back against his pillows, letting his head rest against the soft padding.

"The nurse that left you alone in the bathroom and neglected her duty," Steve informed him, almost in a matter of fact tone. "She's in pretty big trouble. The hospital is taking her before the board to discuss the incident."

"She… She might get fired?" Jesse paled.

"Jesse, don't go down that road," Mark warned him gently, already well aware of what the young doctor was thinking. "It is not your fault. You may bell have asked to be left alone, however it's her job to ensure that patients don't get what they want but what they need. You needed the support of someone and she sacrificed your health for a social gathering at the nurses' station. She shouldn't have left you, Jess."

Jesse closed his eyes as he listened to his mentor. Of course he knew Mark was right but he couldn't help but feel responsible. He had felt so sick and he just wanted to be left alone.

"Is there any way we can work around this so that she's not fired? Maybe we could recommend a return to unqualified training status? With supervision she could improve," Jesse suggested hopefully.

Mark's heart ached for his good natured young friend.

"I know it's hard, Jesse, but she's already on a programme here and it's unlikely she'll be deemed trustworthy after a case of this nature. We'll do what we can."

Jesse managed a small smile.

"Thanks," he sighed through a yawn, wincing at the throbbing the action caused his head.

"How's the pain, Jess?" Mark asked, getting back to business.

"It's manageable," he replied. Jesse lay with his eyes shut, enjoying the sensation of his stomach settling down and the trembling that had wracked his limbs for so long finally abating. Tentatively, he cracked his eyes open and tried his luck, "I'm uh, I'm actually starting to feel a little better. Maybe they'll agree to spring me from here soon?"

His hopeful musing was cut short by a snort from Steve and an incredulous look from his older friend.

"You, young man, are in no condition to be going anywhere just yet."

The young doctor smiled tiredly. It had been worth a try. Already he could feel his eyes sliding shut of their own accord, though he knew what was coming.

"Get some rest, Jesse. Someone will be in every few hours to check on you. Your scans were clear, no bleeding around your brain and you're coherent enough that I'm not too worried about delayed complications. I think another twenty four hours under observation just to be sure and we can start thinking about moving you," Mark explained. "As long as you behave yourself, that is."

Jesse did his best to grin, though he could only manage a sleepy smile.

"Thanks Mark. You guys head on home. I'll be right here. You have my word," Jesse promised, doing his best to look as solemn as he could.

Steve chuckled and stood, gently resting a hand on his friend's shoulder.

"You take it easy, Jess. Have them call us if you need anything."

"Thanks, Steve. I'll be ok," Jesse assured him and smiled appreciatively.

"I'm gonna give Amanda a call and let her know you're doing better. She's been pretty worried and I know she'll be happy to hear you're back with us," the detective informed him. "Dad, I'll bring the car around. See you a little later, Jess."

Jesse watched Steve go with a smile. He'd never felt so fortunate to have such great friends. He looked up at Mark who was slowly reaching for his jacket, taking his time and clearly reluctant to go. Jesse reached out, his fingers catching on to the older man's sleeve.

"Mark? Thank you. Just… I remember… Sort of. You know… Whenever I regained consciousness you were there and… I guess I… I just wanted to say that I couldn't have made it without you. All of you. I ruined our vacation, huh?" Jesse fiddled with the IV tube next to him on the bed with his free hand, guilt flooding him again.

Mark couldn't help but sigh softly. His fingers covered the hand holding onto his sleeve, warming the digits with his own and giving them a gentle squeeze.

"It was totally out of your control, Jesse and I'd do it all again in a heartbeat." Mark tipped Jesse's chin up very gently to make eye contact so the young man knew he meant business. "All you need to focus on is recovering and getting back to enjoying your vacation. The guest room at the beach house is ready when you are."

Jesse could feel his eyes filling with moisture at Mark's heartfelt words. The Sloans and Amanda really were the best friends he'd ever had and he only hoped they knew how thankful he felt.

"You guys really are something else," he managed to choke softly. "Now go and rest up yourself. I'll be fine."

"You certainly will, my friend. Rest well." Mark tucked the blanket around Jesse, allowing himself to fuss over his friend one last time before bidding him farewell and heading home, relieved beyond belief that things were finally looking back up.

As each day passed, Jesse began to improve at a pleasing rate. The first few days had been tedious and wearing for the talented young physician. The endless examinations every few hours to check his coherency and head wound were both tiring and aggravating. Once they were satisfied that his brain was recovering well after the concussion and, blessedly, the symptoms from the spider bite were abating with relative pace, things began to take a much more pleasant turn.

When he was strong enough, Jesse wrote his own account of Nurse Pearson's neglect with his own responsibilities outlined in the hope that something could be done to prevent such harsh action. While Jesse could not save her job, Mark later informed him that thanks to him it was likely that no other patients would suffer the same treatment in the hospital and that it was also likely that Nurse Pearson had learned an important life lesson.

Jesse's eventual release from hospital was on a strictly circumstantial basis. He was to return to the beach house under the watchful eye of Mark on the condition that if the elder doctor deemed it necessary for him to return to Community General, back he would for Jesse with his age and general good health on his side, he had gone from strength to strength once started on the road to recovery. The warm, salty breeze at the beach house felt like a balm to his hurts and with every breath of ocean laced air, he felt stronger, happier and more like himself.

Several days after his release, Jesse sat in the sunshine, soaking up some much needed vitamins and relaxing as best he could. From his seat on the decking above the beach, he could see Amanda sitting on a blanket in the sand beside an energetic CJ who, under Mark's suggestion, was digging down to find Australia. In the crashing waves further down the golden beach, Steve's dark wetsuit cut through the vivid blue sea, a tiny speck in a vast ocean. The speck was paddling back towards shore, his form growing larger as he moved closer. Behind him, Jesse could hear the flip flop of sandaled feet coming closer and a delicious smell began to permeate the air on the balcony.

"Ready for lunch?" Mark's cheerful voice cut through the sound of the waves. The old doctor appeared carrying a large bowl of salad and a tray stacked high with marinated chicken and buttered corn.

Jesse's mouth watered, his stomach producing an audible growl and he couldn't help but inhale the fragrant smell.

"Am I ever! Are you sure there's nothing I can do?" he asked.

"No, no, my friend. All taken care of." Mark set the food down on the table and waved to the three figures now approaching from the beach.

Jesse's stomach indicated his hunger again but before he could think about making a start, a fully loaded plate appeared in front of him. His appetite had taken a real beating since his admission to hospital and this had concerned his friends greatly. Their usual bottomless pit of a friend being off his food was unnerving for them but gradually Jesse could feel his hunger building each day. With his body accepting more sustenance, his strength built quickly and he found himself longing for the day he could pick up his surf board and join Steve in the waves.

Looking down at his plate, Jesse's eyes bulged at the size of his helping. Perhaps Mark was being a little over optimistic with his portion size but Jesse was touched that his friend had such faith in him. He looked up to see Amanda, CJ and Steve taking their seats and Mark began serving up. Jesse leaned back in his chair and smiled.

There had never been a more perfect sight as far as Jesse was concerned and after all they'd been through, they were finally getting the vacation they deserved.

End