"Linds, I was just coming to check and see how things were-" McKenzie began as he walked through the door to Marty's room before taking in the scene in front of him and demanding, "What's going on? Lindsay, what did you-"

"I'm sorry," Lindsay whispered, staring at the floor and horrified at what had happened. "I'm sorry, John, I pushed him too hard. I didn't mean to... to upset him."

John barely heard her as he hurried to Marty's side, recognizing at once that the boy was in the midst of a panic attack. "Shhh," he murmured, "Marty, it's okay. No one's going to hurt you, just try to calm down."

Marty heard the doctor and forced a nod, wide-eyed with terror as he struggled to calm himself, but it was no use. His chest hurt so badly, as if a hand had reached in, grabbed his heart and was proceeding to squeeze it until it burst. Marty opened his mouth to try and ask the doctor to help him, but no sound came out. In the end, though, it was unnecessary, anyway.

Even without Marty telling him what was wrong, John could see that he wasn't going to settle on his own and pulled a hypo of mild sedatives from his coat pocket. He had brought it along fearing that Marty would be having trouble sleeping, but John hadn't anticipated anything like this quite so soon- he had assumed that his patient would still be suffering from some degree of shock from everything that had happened. It appeared, though, that Lindsay Knight had inadvertently brought this on by asking the wrong question in the wrong way, and without thinking twice, McKenzie administered the hypospray, gratified to see Marty's symptoms begin to marginally abate almost at once. "There," John crooned softly. "See? Much better- is it helping?" A faint nod from Marty was about as much as John had expected to get, and he smiled slightly in encouragement before turning his attention to Knight, who had stood by to watch the whole thing without a word.

"Lindsay," he began sharply. "I want to speak with you before you leave at the end of the shift. For now, go and see about the abdominal pain that just came in." Lindsay nodded, looking mortified and slunk out of the room unable to bring herself to look Marty in the eye. Once she had departed, Doctor McKenzie seated himself on the edge of Marty's bed. For a long moment, he was silent, words completely failing him. What was there to say? Nothing, not really. Still, McKenzie knew that he had to at least make an effort, though looking at the shaking, frightened child in front of him, he doubted it would do much good.

"Marty," he began, "it's all right. She's not- she didn't mean to upset you."

"Please...." The word left Marty before he could silence himself, and he flushed at the surprised expression that crossed the doctor's face.

John stared. He hadn't been expecting Marty to say a word, not after what had just happened, but it seemed that the McManus boy was full of surprises. "What is it?" he asked quickly, adding, "Go on, it's okay."

"Please," Marty begged, unable to remain silent any longer, "d-don't- please don't ask me any m-more questions, sir, please...!" The thin, accented voice cracked on the last word, and a lone tear slid down Marty's cheek.

Swallowing hard, John nodded. "No," he agreed, "no more questions, at least for now." Reaching out, the doctor gently brushed the tear from the boy's cheek, surprised that Marty allowed the physical contact. "I'm sorry about that, Marty, and I know that Lindsay- Doctor Knight is, too. It won't happen again, not that way."

Marty gazed at Doctor McKenzie, shocked. This had never happened before, either; they usually tried harder, pushed him for information that he couldn't give and didn't want to give, but it seemed that at least for the time being, the doctor wasn't going to do that. "Really?" When Marty spoke, his voice was a faint whisper, as though he was afraid to say anything too loudly and make McKenzie change his mind.

"Really." John nodded again, smiling slightly. "Some people might need to ask you more questions, but if it'll make you feel better, I'll make sure that I'm here in the room before anyone asks you anything about your dad. Would that be okay?"

Sniffling slightly and wiping his nose on the sleeve of his hospital gown, Marty nodded. "Yessir," he whispered, hardly able to believe that this doctor he barely knew was bothering to do any of this for him. Why? Why in the world was John helping him this way? *It's a trap,* the doubtful voice in Marty's head whispered, *he's going to get you.* For once, though, Marty was able to force himself to ignore it. "Thank you- sir," he murmured, and was surprised to see Doctor McKenzie's smile broaden.

"You don't need to thank me for anything, kiddo," he said, shaking his head. "We're here to help you- just keep that in mind, okay?" Marty nodded, and John continued, "Good boy. I have some other patients to keep track of, but I'll be back around later to check on you. Just get some rest for now, and if you need anything, buzz for one of the nurses, and they'll come and take care of you." Lowering the upper half of the bed for Marty to lie down, John ordered the lights dimmed and gave his young patient what he hoped was a reassuring smile before he left the room.