Darkness Series

Part 1: Staring Into The Dark

 

The large room, divided into a series of a smaller rooms by curtains, and with a large central desk was not particularly busy. It had the typical smell of powerful disinfectant and the occasional voice could be heard murmuring from one cubicle or another. At the desk, a blond woman sat writing in a medical file. She looked up as the phone on the wall rang and the nurse who answered the call scribbled notes on a pad of paper. As the handset was replaced, the doctor spoke.

"What is it?"

"Building collapsed. But apparently there was only one person inside."

"Well?"

"White male, late thirties, early forties, head injuries. Here in five."

The doctor nodded. "Room two. And page Doctor Austen."

Nodding, the nurse hurried away to prepare the room for its temporary inmate.

Several minutes later the doors opened as the trolley was wheeled in. The unconscious body was carefully swung onto the mattress and the doctor bent over it as the ambulance officer spoke.

"Seems that there must have been some awareness that the building was going to go because all the other occupants were outside but this guy thought he heard voices and went in to check. Just a couple of seconds later the whole thing came crashing down, trapping him inside."

In exasperation, the doctor glared at him over her shoulder as she shone a light into the patient's eyes. "I don't care about what happened - I can watch that on the news tonight. Right now, I'd be glad if you'd tell me about the condition of my patient."

As the officer began his explanation, a second doctor entered, listening to the description of the injured man. When it was complete, she spoke as she approached the bed.

"Name?"

"He's not carrying i.d. but he works with the demolition company. They said his name's Hamilton, Jarod Hamilton."

The ambulance office had just finished when the patient regained consciousness; his eyes slowly opened and moved from left to right.

"Mr Hamilton? Jarod?" The newcomer bent down. "My name's Doctor Austen. Do you remember what happened?"

The man would have shaken his head, but a neck brace held it firmly in place and his expression became confused, a look of panic in his eyes, unable to place either his location or the voice that he could hear.

"It's all right, that's just to make sure you don't injure yourself further." She placed one hand gently on the side of his head, speaking calmly and soothingly. "Stay still."

As she spoke, a pen, resting on the clipboard she held in her other hand and with which she had been making notes, slipped off and would have fallen onto his face, but for the speed with which she snatched it away. The injured man, however, never reacted, and the doctor's response was prompt but gentle as she bent over him again.

"Jarod, can you see me?"

Dr. Austen waved a hand in front of his face, noting the lack of response with a sinking heart, as, unable to shake his head, the man mouthed the word 'no'.

"Can you see anything at all or it is just dark?"

"Dark..." The word was a soft whisper and the doctor nodded decisively.

"Jarod, we need to find out if there's more damage than just to your eyes, so we're going to run a few tests. Before we do, is there anybody we can contact to tell them where you are?"

Unable to force out a stronger response as pain began to surge through him, the man once more softly muttered the word 'no' before closing his useless eyes and clenching his fists and jaw. The doctor pursed her lips in thought and looked up as the machinery was wheeled into the room.

 

* * *

Nicole Austen flipped through the pages of test results and then looked up at the scans that were clipped to her lit screen. The patient wouldn't require surgery, but unfortunately there was no way of knowing precisely what had caused the injury, nor exactly what it was. It could have a number of causes and, which was worse, she had no idea how long it would be before he regained his sight, if he ever did. The fracture in his left leg, although not particularly serious, wouldn't help either. Her brow furrowed as she looked over the small amount of personal information she had been able to obtain about the man. Finally she got up and went to talk to him.

"Mr Hamilton?"

The man faced directly in front of him, eyes closed, and Nicole smiled slightly as she walked into the room, shutting the door behind her. Looking around, the woman could see a newspaper lying crumpled on the floor, having obviously been thrown there from the bed. A table held a glass that lay on its side, fortunately empty and the bed-clothes were a crumpled mess, in which the patient was almost wrapped, his legs and torso tangled in the white material and his arms folded over his chest. The doctor looked at his face, seeing that he continued to lie motionless, and a small smile curled her lips once more.

"I'm afraid, Jarod, that that trick doesn't work with me. I've had a large number of patients pretend to be asleep and I'm getting good at knowing when they aren't."

He sighed, turning his head in her direction, as his eyes opened and his features creased into the glare that Nicole suspected had probably been there since he had been brought to the room once the tests were completed. His voice was an impatient growl as he tried to place her exact location in the room, turning his head from side to side.

"Who are you?"

"My name's Dr. Austen. I was called in after the accident. We met down in the emergency room. Do you remember?"

"Vaguely," the patient muttered.

"That's better than not at all." She smiled. "Can I sit down?"

Jarod shrugged, his tones revealing his lack of interest. "If there's a seat..."

She sat in the chair beside the bed, pulling the table over and picking up the glass before putting her things on the table. "You said, when you were brought in, that there wasn't anybody we could contact to tell them about you. Has that changed?"

"No," he snapped, turning away.

The doctor's voice was kind in response. "Was there anything you wanted to ask me?"

"What's wrong with me exactly?"

"Well, apart from the various cuts and scratches that I'm sure you can feel, you have a fracture..."

"Of the tibia. I know that." Jarod kept his face turned away from hers, his eyes traveling frantically from right to left, trying to find something, anything, in the dark. "I meant my eyes."

The doctor opened the folder and glanced at the notes she had made. "The good news is that it's nothing structural. The tests we ran showed no abnormalities..."

"So you don't know what it is." The man's voice was dismissive and Nicole raised an eyebrow.

"We have several possibilities, but, at this stage, we can't be certain about any of them."

"So... what?" he demanded. "What happens now?"

"I'm afraid that all we can do is wait."

Jarod sighed impatiently and attempted to move on the bed, but the heavy cast on his leg, running almost from his knee to his foot, restricted his movements. "For how long?"

"It's not possible to say right now. Sometimes things like this clear up in a few days or weeks..."

"And sometimes they don't clear up at all, right?" he challenged.

"Yes," she admitted quietly. "That's true."

Jarod folded his arms, turning his head away from her, feeling the same anger and frustration rise in him that had caused his earlier unseen display of temper and trying to keep it down. The doctor looked closely at him, suspecting exactly what he was feeling and wondering the best way to deal with this particular patient.

"Mr Hamilton..."

"Jarod," he told her firmly.

"Jarod, I've had other people in the same situation as the one you're in now and most of them find that it helps to talk to someone about it. If you like, I can contact one of the staff in the..."

"I don't need a psychiatrist!" he exclaimed indignantly, half-offended that she suspected he was in need of any such help.

Nicole sat back in her chair and shut the folder. "This may surprise you, and I know it sounds like a cliche, but I do understand what you're going through."

"No, you don't." His voice was soft but dismissive.

"Actually, I do. The reason that I specialized in this field was because I had a period of blindness a number of years ago. So I have a very good idea of what you're feeling right now."

There was a long pause and Nicole, after seeing the emotion working on her patient's face, stood up, gathered her things and went over to the door. Jarod hesitated for a moment, but was unable to prevent himself from asking the question that had come to the forefront his mind as soon as he had first heard her voice in the doorway.

"What do you... look like?"

Nicole turned when she heard the question, pleased at his interest, however slight, in something other than himself, and walked back, replacing the folders and coming over to stand next to him. He felt the mattress bend as she sat down on the bed and then her warm fingers picking up one of his hands, gently placing it on her face.

"I think you'll be able to tell me in a moment."

He ran his hands over her features and she closed her eyelids, his fingertips lightly touching her skin and brushing against her lips.

"What color's your hair?"

"Brown. Dark brown. Like yours," she replied quietly.

"And your eyes?"

"The same." She smiled, looking into the dark brown eyes that stared directly ahead, as if by such determined effort, her patient could bring back his lost vision. "I'm a very boring person."

Nicole watched a smile dance around the edges of Jarod's mouth before it faded back to the thin, sullen line that had been there since she entered.

"And how old...?"

She could hear the hesitancy in his voice and her smile widened. "Didn't anyone ever tell you that it's impolite to ask a woman her age?"

He smiled again, faintly, and she gently removed his hand, standing up, straightening the sheets with a firm, practiced hand until he was properly covered.

"I have to go, I'm afraid. I have several other people that I need to see, but if you want to talk, any of the nurses have my number."

"Thank you, Dr. Austen."

There was more life in his voice than there had been when she entered the room and Nicole gave a nod of satisfaction before turning away from the bed. At the doorway, she stopped to look back over her shoulder at the man.

"Should I leave the door open?"

He nodded. "If you don't mind."

"Not at all. See you soon, Jarod."

 

* * *

Nicole carried her tray over to the table and put it down carefully in front of her, her mind still on the interview from that morning.

"Did you have any luck?"

She jumped and looked down to find her blond colleague from the emergency room opposite her, sitting down with a grin. "In surviving the fright you just gave me?"

Ann Stevens laughed. "That, too. No, I was asking about our mystery man."

Nicole raised an eyebrow, looking around at the other staff members seated nearby, enjoying the banter. "Should Roger be worried right now? I could call him and drop a few hints..."

Ann laughed. "Well, you have to admit that he was cute."

"Mmm, with all of his cuts and bruises," Nicole agreed, laughing. "Regular stud muffin."

"Come on, I was only being concerned."

"With ulterior motives," Nicole grinned. "He's probably got a wife or a girlfriend somewhere and he doesn't want her to see him like that. It wouldn't be the first time I've seen it."

"You've seen everything."

"So have you." Nicole laughed again as she took a mouthful of salad. Then she made a face as she reached for her drink to get rid of the taste.

 

* * *

Jarod shifted uncomfortably on the hard mattress and turned his head in the direction from which he could feel that the sun was coming, his unseeing eyes still moving constantly in an attempt to make out something, but the Pretender was slowly realizing he wasn't going to be able to change what had happened this time. His untouched lunch tray sat on the table at his right hand and the fingers of his left hand drummed impatiently on the railing of the bed as he tried to find some way to relieve the boredom.

"Not hungry, Jarod?"

He turned automatically at the sound of the voice in the doorway, glad to have something to take his mind off his difficulties, shrugging slightly in answer to the question. "Not really."

"I can understand." Nicole smiled. "It didn't taste that good. I had the same thing in the cafeteria."

The man raised an eyebrow. "I thought the medicos usually ate better than the patients."

"Not here." She recovered the dish and moved it aside so she had room for her folder, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Actually, I think there's a plan to get rid of us. They believe that by starving us to death they'll sort out the weak from the strong."

Jarod's mouth twisted into a smile that lasted for a couple of seconds before it slowly faded. She leaned forward and looked up into his face, knowing he couldn't see her close examination of his features. Her voice was soft but determined.

"Do you know Braille, Jarod?"

"No." He turned his head away, instantly resisting the idea that his lack of vision could last for any substantial length of time. "I don't want..."

"You'd rather die of boredom up here instead?"

As he hesitated, she reached up and covered his hand with hers. "I know I sound like I'm not giving you any hope and that's the one thing I'm not supposed to do, but I've got some of my own Braille books here, as well as the chart I learnt it from. I thought you might find it easier if you had something practical to do while we wait and see what happens."

Jarod turned his face back to hers, his expression one of astonishment. "So you really were what you said?"

Nicole immediately picked up on his refusal to utter that hard word - blind. She understood it. She had had the same problem.

"I really was. It took a year before my vision began to come back. Then a couple of months more before I was able to do things like read again."

"Is that why you wear glasses?"

"I wasn't wearing them earlier. How did you know?

"I could feel the ridges on your temples and nose."

She looked at him in surprise. "I'm impressed. Most people wouldn't pick up on a thing like that."

"I was... trained to notice," he muttered somewhat awkwardly.

Nicole raised an eyebrow. "In demolitions?"

The doctor saw the heightened color on his face as she asked the question and, out of sympathy, pulled the tray over the bed, placing the Braille chart in his unresisting hand.

 

* * *

Nicole shut the front door of her house and dropped a bundle of folders onto the table in the living room before going into the kitchen. Getting a plate out of the fridge, the woman put her dinner into the microwave. Looking through her mail as she waited for it to heat, she finally threw more than half of the envelopes into the bin before rescuing her steaming plate and carrying it through to the table in her living room. For several long moments she stared at the vacant seat opposite before, with a shake of her head, she reached over to turn on the radio before beginning to eat.

 

* * *

The doctor entered his room the next morning and, with no word of introduction, opened his hand and placed something into it. Jarod immediately turned his head in her direction, a light of interest in his eyes.

"What is it?"

"You tell me."

Nicole watched him run his fingers over it, a smile lighting his face as he tipped the item sideways and ate a piece of the candy that was inside, tilting his head slightly to one side as he crushed the cherry-flavored sugar between his teeth.

"Since when do doctors provide things that aren't healthy?"

"Since this doctor found a PEZ dispenser in tiny bits in your jacket pocket. I collected them myself and happen to have the same one. Since I don't collect them anymore, I'm giving to you."

"Thanks." Jarod smiled again before becoming somber once more.

"How are you this morning?"

He shrugged dismissively as Nicole picked up his folder and eyed the notations. "You haven't had anything for pain?"

"I don't need it."

"Sure?"

The man turned his head in her direction, his eyes glittering in angry frustration. "The only thing I need is to get out of here as soon as possible, and to see again!"

Nicole nodded sympathetically. "If you could give us the name of someone we could contact..."

"There isn't anybody!" His denial was almost savage.

"If you would let me finish, Jarod," she rebuked gently and saw color rise in his face. "I was going to say that we could release you into their care, but I can't either ethically or morally let you waltz out of here on your own without knowing you'll be taken care of."

He nodded slowly and she got up.

"I'll investigate some possible options and see what we can do. In the meantime, I'll send one of the physiotherapists up here to get you on your feet again, okay?"

He nodded again and stretched out one hand in the direction from which he could hear her voice coming. Divining his intention, she reached out and took it. Jarod squeezed gently.

"Thanks, Dr. Austen."

She smiled, squeezing in response. "My pleasure."

 

* * *

Nicole watched silently from the doorway as Jarod pulled himself up onto the bed. When he was safely settled against the pillow, she walked in.

"I very much doubt that the physiotherapist said you could go for a jaunt on your own."

He jumped in shock at the unexpected sound and turned his head in her direction. "I'm getting a little frustrated."

"I think that's probably the understatement of the year. But it won't do you any good to push yourself too fast and end up with a raging fever or more broken bones."

Jarod turned his head away, annoyed at the speed and accuracy with which she had seemingly been able to understand his character. She eyed him closely before glancing at the table, noting that one of the books she had given him had a page marked.

"You've been reading?"

He shrugged. "There's nothing else to do."

She glanced at the radio beside his bed, but decided not to comment on it. "I'm impressed you picked it up that fast." Nicole grabbed his right hand and turned it palm-upwards to see the red fingertips. "How many of my books have you read by now?"

"Most of them," he mumbled, disconcerted.

"So you already knew Braille."

He shrugged for a second time, noncommittally. "I'm a quick study."

"If you keep going at that rate, you'll desensitize your fingers."

With a third, almost angry shrug he pulled his hand out of her grasp and folded it and the other on his chest, abruptly changing the subject. "Did you come up with anything?"

"So impatient to get out of here?" She let a teasing note creep into her voice. "A nice, clean room with staff to look after you..."

"...food that's inedible and getting woken up at six?" Jarod responded in a similar manner. "Yeah, can't wait to leave."

"Well," Nicole smiled, "I'm glad to hear you have a sense of humor anyway."

She put a brochure into his hand, watching as his fingertips skimmed over the raised dots. "That's the only residence that's got any free places. For some reason there seems to be a rush on that sort of accommodation now and most places have a waiting list. It seems quite nice - on the east coast."

He raised his head sharply, at the same time frantically searching with his fingers for anything like an address. "Where?"

"Delaware."

"No!"

At his angry, almost scared, refusal, Nicole raised her eyebrows. "Why on earth not?"

Jarod paused before turning his head towards her. "Personal - dislike of the place."

She removed the brochure from his hand, glancing at it. "Actually, I wouldn't have been too keen to send you there anyway. Most of the reports I've heard about it haven't been that good. But you seemed so eager to leave..."

"There's nothing else?"

Nicole could hear the faint note of desperation in his voice and offered another suggestion. "I was only able to come up with one other option."

His reply was both swift and eager. "And that is?"

"I have a spare room."

She watched as he raised an eyebrow. "I wouldn't have thought that patients and staff would..."

"We usually aren't," Nicole laughed. "All I'm offering is accommodation, edible food and no getting woken at six." She paused for a beat. "My alarm goes off at six thirty." As she continued to watch him, Nicole's tones became more serious. "I'm certainly not willing to send you back to the hotel room you were staying in when the accident happened."

"It wasn't an accident."

The words came out before Jarod could stop them and he turned his face away as she looked up sharply. "What do you mean?"

"Nothing," the man muttered, angry with himself for letting slip what he had been determined not to mention.

"Jarod," Nicole began persuasively. "Not long after you were admitted, an investigator came here and wanted to know what you knew about the building. You were having the tests at the time and he couldn't ask you, but he said he wanted to know immediately if you could tell him anything. So what do you remember?"

After several moments of silently struggling with himself, Jarod eventually yielded with a regretful sigh, curling his left leg under his right with consideration for the cast. "I've got reason to suspect that there was a bomb in the building."

"And on what are you basing this suspicion?" she asked quietly.

"Personal... investigation," he admitted grudgingly.

She raised an eyebrow. "So were you the person who got everyone out before it crashed down?"

He slowly nodded.

"According to the news reports, you probably saved about thirty lives."

"And look what I get as a reward," he snapped, waving one hand in front of his unseeing eyes, his other hand slapping the cast with a resounding crack, which sent a flash of pain up his leg.

Jarod's tones were bitter and Nicole rapidly changed the subject. "If there was a bomb inside that building then someone must have planted it. Do you know who it was?"

He shrugged. "Maybe."

"And if I contact the investigator will you tell him what you told me?"

Jarod shrugged again. "Perhaps."

She stood up. "I'll go and call him now." She leaned forward and put one hand on his. "Consider my offer, Jarod. I'll come back in a few hours to hear what your response is."

 

* * *

"Three steps going up."

She went up the first and saw him gingerly feel it with his walking stick before limping up the three stairs behind her. She pulled out her key and unlocked the front door, guiding him into the house.

"It's not that big."

He swept the stick from one side of the narrow hall to the other the way she had taught him at the hospital and Nicole smiled. "No, it's not. It's only a small, two-bedroom half-house. But it's enough for me."

Jarod nodded and she led him through a doorway to the left.

"This is my room."

As they walked in, Nicole could hear him murmuring the paces until he was standing with his legs against her bed and, turning, he used the walking stick to get an idea of size as he had in the hall. After several moments they left the room and went over to the door directly opposite hers.

"This is your room." She opened the door and led him inside, looking at the few items on the bed. "I brought your things here."

Jarod turned his face to hers, curiosity in his eyes. "Where did you...?"

"The police brought the bags to the hospital after they found where you lived. I brought them with me last night after we talked. You can unpack once we finish going over the place."

He nodded and took several cautious steps into the room on his own, shuffling rather than taking proper strides, hindered by both his own wariness and the cast.

"The rug on the floor goes to the walls," Nicole told him. "And the bed doesn't have a long cover that might get tangled around your feet."

She watched him feel his way around the chairs and other furniture that she had pushed against the walls so he wouldn't trip over any of it.

In the living room, she guided him around, giving him time to mentally map where everything was so he wouldn't fall later. Finally she led him around the kitchen.

"If you wanted to cook..."

"Cook!" Jarod's tones dismissed that idea at once. "How can I possibly cook? How on earth can I do anything now?"

She allowed a moment of silence to go by before she spoke, leaning against the bench, her arms folded. "Jarod, there are two important things you need to consider. First, I'm not here for some of every day and I'm sure you won't want to go hungry. Secondly, and this is the difficult bit, if it does turn out to be permanent, you'll have to learn to manage on your own."

Nicole watched him turn away and she straightened, putting a hand on his arm. "I know it's hard," she said softly. "I felt the same way. But you have to face reality. We don't know if you'll get your vision back and we have to work on the assumption that you might not."

She picked up one of his hands and put his fingers against small burns on the back of her hand. "That's the evidence of the time it took for me to learn how to cook without seeing. If you learn to cook as fast as you appear to have learnt to read Braille, you should have no problems." Nicole put his hand on the stovetop, letting him feel the raised dots that indicated the dials. "Everything here is still marked out from my period of blindness. That makes it easier now."

He nodded slowly, resisting the idea with which he had been presented and grateful for anything that would take his mind off it. "You lived alone... like that?"

"Yes." She hesitated. "For a while I did have company, but then things changed and I was alone. I had to cope like that for months until my vision came back and then longer again before I could use it effectively."

 

* * *

Nicole removed her reading glasses and looked up from the article she was perusing as he slowly came into the room.

"Everything finished?"

Jarod nodded silently and made his way over to the sofa, carefully easing himself down on to it. She reached over and picked up a box from the table in front of her, placing it on his knee. "This might be useful."

For several minutes she watched while he worked out the way the box opened and extracted the item inside it. A puzzled expression formed on his face as he felt it, recognizing the object at once, but unable to understand why she had given him something so useless.

"What is it?" Jarod demanded, hoping that his initial impression had been wrong.

Reaching over, she flipped up the cover so that he could feel the raised dots on the watch-face. "I don't think you'll want to have to get up and find my Braille clock whenever you want to know the time."

He nodded again, fastening it firmly onto his wrist before turning to her. "Won't you need it?"

Nicole smiled. "No, I have my own. You're free to use it for as long as you like."

"Thank you. Again," Jarod added, feeling uncomfortable at the size of the debt he seemed to owe her as the favors and opportunities slowly added up.

"It's no problem." She sat back and looked at him. "To be honest, I've been on my own for so long that it's just nice to have somebody else around the place again."

Jarod's lips twisted into a half-smile and she watched silently as he ran both hands over the sofa on which he was sitting and then opened the cover of his watch to feel the time. As she stood up, he raised his head at the sound.

"If you want things to do," she placed one hand on his arm and he instantly rose in response. She let his hand slip around her arm and led him over to a corner of the room where the large shelves almost covered one wall.

"I have a collection of books." She placed his hand on the shelf and Jarod slid his fingers over the spines, each title and author printed in raised dots, facing in the same direction for convenience.

"I also have a fairly large music collection." Nicole moved Jarod's fingers to the right, allowing him to feel the rows of CDs, their names typed out in Braille.

"And I have cards." She gently placed his hand on the two boxes of raised print playing cards that she owned.

"Everything but the kitchen sink," he told her wryly.

She laughed. "I have one of those, too, or did you miss that?"

For the first time since they had met, Jarod smiled widely, dimples appearing in both his cheeks. Releasing his hold on her arm, he cautiously made his way over to the sofa, sitting down on it and turning his face up to hers.

"What did you do all day when you were - blind?"

Nicole noted with satisfaction that he had come far enough to at least be able to say the word and Jarod heard her footsteps crossing the smooth floor as she walked over to sit beside him.

"I read, or listened to music. Sometimes I wrote."

"Wrote?" His expression was one of amazement. "How?"

She reached forward, pulled the Braille frame over the table towards her and put it in his hands.

"With this, and also with my computer. I have a keyboard with raised dots and a program that can speak as I write so I could tell if I made a mistake, but that was fairly frustrating. This is easier."

She showed him the way it worked, her hands making a number of impressions, and then Nicole released the page so that he could read it.

"And," his tones were hesitant but eager, "could I...?"

"Of course." She laughed. "That was why I hunted it out yesterday morning."

Another smile lit his face as an idea struck him. "You mean you were planning this all along?"

"Not exactly. I was going to bring it in for you to use before you left the hospital, but now you can use it here instead."

Jarod eagerly seized the frame that she put into his hands and, after feeling it for a few seconds, slid the page into it. He picked up the blunt stylus, his hand clumsily making several impressions on the thick paper, and Nicole could see his eyes moving from left to right as if trying to read the marks he had made. Jarod felt the result before he lowered the stylus towards the flat surface in front of him, carelessly letting the round tool drop onto the tabletop, where it silently rolled away. Nicole waited a second before speaking quietly.

"Jarod, you've committed the first sin of not being able to see."

"Oh, really?" A bitter tone came back into his voice at her rebuke. "And what's that?"

"You've put something down with no idea where it is."

"Of course I know!" His response was impatient. "It's..."

He reached down to where he had dropped the implement and then hesitated as he found that he was no longer able to feel it.

"Where did it go?"

"If I wasn't here, you'd have to find it for yourself," she told him firmly.

Nicole leaned against the sofa cushions, watching as he slid his hand from one side of the table to the other, finally knocking the thin item onto the floor. He sighed in frustration and she watched him grit his teeth, not wanting to let her see his annoyance. Reaching down, she silently scooped it up in her hand.

"What are you going to do now?" she asked him. "You can't bend down to get it, not with your leg in plaster. Besides, for all you know it could have rolled under the seat."

"No, it couldn't." Jarod's voice was definitive, having felt her movement and guessing that she had picked it up. "Your sofa reaches to the floor."

"That's very impressive." Her voice contained a hint of amusement. "But it won't help you find the stylus."

"So what should I have done?" he demanded.

She put his hand on the frame and let him feel the groove where the item usually sat. "If you put something back where it belongs, and everything here does have a place, you've got a far better chance of finding it again." She turned his hand over and put the device into it, curling his fingers over the smooth object. "And that's the most important thing to remember."

 

* * *

"Are you ready, Jarod?"

He picked up the leather jacket from the bed and swung it over his shoulders.

"Just." He flipped up the cover of his watch and felt the time. "When do we have to be there?"

"I made the reservation for seven thirty."

The man nodded and walked towards the door, pushing the cupboard shut as he passed. Nicole gently took his free hand and slipped it around her arm, his other hand holding the walking stick. The two people made their way down the stairs and Nicole opened the car door, allowing him to climb in as she had taught him earlier, with one hand clasping the doorframe to prevent his head from banging on the metal. She swung the door until he could grasp the handle and allowed him to close it when he was ready while she got in behind the wheel.

"When did you get your license?" he queried curiously.

"I reapplied for it about two years ago, as soon as I could see well enough to pass the test. They cancelled my old one when they found out I couldn't see any more." She laughed. "I guess they were scared I'd get behind the wheel for old time's sake."

"And did you have to give up work?"

"Yes, but the hospital guaranteed me a job when I was ready to start working again, which was a part of the settlement, and they provided one when I was ready to work again. I went back to the hospital to work about a month before I got my license."

"So what did you do in the meantime?"

"Until I made the effort of sitting down and learning Braille, not much. I spent a lot of mornings just lying in bed, only to get up in the afternoons and wander around trying to kill time." Nicole sighed. "I regret the time I wasted, doing absolutely nothing. But you live and learn."

They parked outside the restaurant and Nicole got out of the car, coming around to find that Jarod had already managed to undo the seatbelt and was nearly out of the car by the time she reached him. He would have managed it alone, had the cast on his leg not hindered him. She reached out an arm just in time to prevent him from falling.

"Slowly. There's no hurry."

"I'm impatient."

She laughed as he regained his balance. "I had noticed that."

He grinned half-heartedly as Nicole locked the car before coming over to him. Slipping his hand around her arm, Jarod walked beside her into the building.

Darkness Series
Part 2: A Shot In The Dark

"Chicken at nine o'clock. Vegetables between eleven and one - carrots at eleven, beans at one - and chips between two and seven."

Jarod raised an eyebrow. "Could be a long meal then."

Nicole laughed and picked up her cutlery. "You know what I mean."

"Yes," he smiled. "I do. But it sounds ridiculous."

"Very practical, though."

She watched him lower his fork to the chips, finally managing to stab several and using his knife to work out their length before eating them, listening as she continued.

"And you manage well. I've known other people who never got the hang of that."

He smiled as he chewed and swallowed before stretching out one hand and then hesitating, not wanting to knock the object over with a clumsy movement.

"Glass at two thirty," Jarod heard quietly from opposite him. With unerring aim, he gently reached out and picked it up.

"Does it taste that bad?" Nicole queried laughingly.

"No," he smiled. "I'm just used to drinking while I eat."

She laughed softly and they ate for several moments in silence. Eventually Jarod raised his head, hesitatingly asking another question that had been taxing his curiosity for some time.

"Will you tell me more about when you couldn't see?"

Nicole placed her cutlery down on either side of her plate. "What did you want to know?"

"What caused it?"

"I fell down a flight of stairs."

He choked on his drink. "You did what?"

"I was running downstairs at work when I tripped and fell. My head hit the handrail, knocking me out." She sipped her wine. "I came around with a terrible headache and no vision whatever. Like you, there was no structural damage that showed up on tests and all they were able to say to me was the same thing I told you - wait and see."

"And it took a year?"

"A little over, in fact. Fourteen months. By the end of that time, I could detect strong or contrasting light. A few weeks later I could detect some outlines and movements. By the end of three months, if I tried, I could focus on things. Big things. Nothing small or detailed."

"And -" Jarod hesitated for a moment. "What did you do?"

"A couple of weeks after my injury, I became interested in learning about what could be wrong, so I began to study that field. It wasn't easy, but with help from libraries and people at the hospital, I did the research for a course in optical and neurological medicine. When my doctor told me that I could read again, I'd done all the necessary work, so I sat the exams and came back to work with further qualifications."

 

* * *

"I don't know whether that's allowed!"

Nicole looked up to see Ann walking towards them from the doorway and laughed. "I should have guessed that we couldn't go anywhere without being caught by someone from work." She turned to her dinner partner. "Jarod, these are Dr. Ann Stevens and her husband Roger. Ann was working in emergency when you were brought in. She's been... curious about you."

"Oh, really?" Jarod tried to keep his tone light, but Nicole saw concern in his eyes and wondered at it. "Am I such an exciting character?"

"I'm interested in everybody." Ann shook his hand and sent a mock-glare at Nicole. "But I wasn't expecting you to be told that."

"Can we join you?" Roger interposed with a grin.

"We-ell," Nicole responded, in mock-seriousness. "That depends. If you promise not to report me to the board for having dinner with a patient and having him stay at my home then I... Oops!" She laughed. "Guess I gave too much away."

Ann raised her eyebrows as she took a seat beside Jarod. "That's far too much information. And I always thought you were the soul of discretion."

 

* * *

"How's the leg?"

Nicole looked over as she got behind the wheel to see Jarod sitting with his eyes closed and she believed that she could guess his response before he gave it. There was a beat of silence before he replied.

"Not bad."

"When we get home," the doctor offered, "I can give you something for it."

"I'll see," he replied, noncommittally.

She laughed. "I wasn't intending that the night be this late, but Ann can talk a lot."

"So I noticed." Jarod smiled faintly. "But it was entertaining."

"I'm glad you thought so. With the amount of medical jargon we were talking, I'm impressed that you could keep up. Roger was very lost."

"I've... done some work in the field." Jarod opened his eyes, facing straight ahead and hoping that she wouldn't ask anything else. His companion refrained from speaking and the remainder of the trip was silent.

 

* * *

Nicole awoke and rolled over, groaning as she saw that it was only half past two. She was about to go back to sleep when the sound that had woken her was repeated and she sat up. At the third disturbance, she got out of bed. Pulling on her bathrobe, she walked over to silently open Jarod's door.

For several seconds she watched as he tossed in his sleep, the cast on his leg stopping him from moving too violently. But it was when he started to call out again that she walked over and shook him. He sat up, gasping for breath, but clearly still panicking, and she placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"It's all right, Jarod. You're awake."

Hearing the quiet voice coming out of the darkness, Jarod sank back against the mattress, feeling the beads of sweat slip down his face as his heart pounded in his ears, closing his eyes, trying to block the images from his mind that had appeared in the dream. He felt the mattress bend as she sat beside him.

"Are you okay?"

Turning his head away, he forced his breathing to slow down, remaining silent.

"Jarod, I know people sometimes have nightmares about accidents they've had, but I also happen to know that the building where you were wasn't called 'The Centre'."

The expression on his face as he turned to her was one of pure panic, his mind instantly planning his escape from this potentially dangerous situation, dismayed at the extent to which his injuries restricted his options. "How do you know about the Centre?"

"You said it several times. I think that was what woke me. So are you going to tell me what it was about?"

His response was hesitating. "I... don't know if I can..."

"You do know you can trust me." She placed her hands on his. "If you couldn't, I don't somehow think you'd still be here."

He nodded slowly, his face still turned down to the blanket, inwardly agreeing with what she had said, but unwilling to expose the fount of emotion that still rose whenever he had to talk about this particular topic.

"We can either discuss it now over a hot drink or else try and find a spare five seconds later when I get home from work. Which is preferable?"

He remained silent.

"Jarod," she stated firmly. "I mean to know about this, so which one will it be?"

For several seconds, he continued to stare silently into the darkness before raising his head and turning to her, speaking softly. "Now."

 

* * *

 

The kettle boiled and Nicole poured hot water into the mugs, stirring the coffee vigorously before she carried the drinks into the living room. The woman saw that Jarod had brought one of his cases into the room and it now lay open on the table. Curious, she leaned forward and saw that it looked a little like a computer.

"What is it?"

"It's called a DSA player," Jarod replied as he accepted the mug she put into his hands and then lowered one hand to wrap the blanket more tightly around his legs. Nicole seated herself on the sofa and looked at him.

"Why are you showing it to me?" 

"So I don't have to try and put it all into words."

Jarod leaned forward and, after several moments of searching for the switch with his hand, finally activated the machine, listening to the familiar sound of the DSA that he had seen more than any other in that case. Nicole silently watched the image of a boy walking around a scale model of the Empire State Building. She glanced from the boy to the man who sat silently beside her, but didn't interrupt. Finally he reached over and, after fumbling for the button, was able to stop it. There was a moment of silence before the other occupant of the room spoke.

"How old were you then?"

"Four."

"And - what? Did they take you, buy you, or what?"

Jarod rested back in the chair and a strange expression crossed his face. "I asked somebody that same question once. He either couldn't or wouldn't answer it at the time, but everything I've found since suggests that I was stolen from my parents."

She nodded. "And you got out - when?"

"Five years ago. I've been back a few times."

"Not by choice, I assume."

"Sometimes." He shrugged and put the mug down on the table. "There are things I need to know, that I need to find out."

Nicole raised an eyebrow, despite knowing that it would go unseen by the man opposite. "Like?"

"Like who I am." Jarod leaned forward, resting his chin in his hands, his eyes fixed sightlessly on a point between the table and the floor. "But they want me back and they've been hunting for me for years..."

"So that was why we couldn't call anyone and why you were nervous when Ann said that she was interested in you," Nicole commented, thinking aloud, as his reaction, even within the first minutes after his arrival at the hospital, suddenly made perfect sense.

He turned his face blindly in her direction, a look of interest in his eyes. "You noticed?"

"I was trained to notice." She smiled as she repeated his words and saw that he remembered as well.

 

* * *

"Well, they won't find you through us," she told him firmly.

"How can you be so sure?" he demanded. "They run random checks on my name all the time."

Nicole smiled. "Because you aren't registered under your name. We can't register a patient under their name unless they're carrying accurate identification, which you weren't. So the hospital has you as a 'John Doe'. Considering that there are thousands of those at places all over the country at any one time, we'd have to be pretty unlucky for the Centre to realize that it's you and come to get you."

Jarod sighed deeply, with a combination of relief and irritation and sat back in his chair, his hands holding the third mug of coffee that she had made for him that morning, before sharply raising his head.

"And you... believe me?"

She leaned forward, placing a gentle hand on his knee. "Jarod, I have no reason not to. Not only does everything you've told me fit in with all that I've found out for myself or other people told me, but there's also the DSAs you've got to back it up. I've heard of people pulling con jobs, but never to that extent." With a short laugh she sat back. "So what now?"

He raised an eyebrow, his brow furrowing. "I don't understand."

"Well, you obviously trust me or else you wouldn't still be here, so I can only assume you want my help. Or that you will want it."

He nodded slowly, speaking hesitantly, his blind eyes trained on the floor. "I will, I guess. I hadn't really thought that far ahead. But even like this they'd still want me back. I can still do simulations, with a few modifications. I can't think of any possible way in which I couldn't."

"Unless you were dead." A light came into the doctor's eyes as she spoke, an idea growing in her mind.

He rested back in the armchair after placing the mug on the coffee table, both arms folded across his chest, his face turned to hers. "Once again I have to say 'I don't understand'. And I'm not used to that."

Nicole reached over and put her mug down on the table before swinging her legs up onto the sofa and hugging them.

"Jarod, you suffered head injuries when that building collapsed. I'm a doctor and I'm a good friend of a coroner. It would be very easy for the two of us to do our own 'simulation', with the end result being an autopsy stating that tragically Jarod Hamilton died as a result of injuries sustained in the building collapse three days ago."

She watched as a small smile began to curl the corners of his mouth, unable to help thinking of all the benefits that such a situation could provide for him. "You could do that?"

"Of course, if you wanted me to. With a little computer magic, we can make a few photographs of a cadaver with serious head injuries and I could call Miss Parker or somebody else and tell them that, unfortunately, we were unable to save your life."

He thought for a few seconds before looking up, and she was easily able to see the fear that had flowered in his eyes. "But... the answers I need..."

Nicole's eyes softened in sympathy, her voice reflecting her emotions. "You've been searching for five years, Jarod. Why would you be able to find them now when you couldn't before? "

Several minutes of silence passed as Jarod stared unseeingly at the floor and Nicole watched him. The doctor saw the grin that had vanished before now return and widen, eventually resulting in the dimples appearing in his cheeks.

"And how long...?"

"We could get it done today. It should only take an hour or so." Nicole consulted her watch and then looked out at the sun that was beginning to show itself on the horizon. "It's now six thirty. If I call my friend, we could get the paperwork started by eight and have it just about all done before ten. So Jarod Hamilton will be long dead by eleven." She laughed and got up as an alarm rang in her room. "I've got to get ready for work. I'll get my friend to prepare everything this morning and we can finish it when I come home tonight."

 

* * *

"Hello, anyone home? Jarod?"

Nicole pushed the door shut with her foot and carried the pile of folders into the kitchen, dropping them onto the bench. Walking into the living room, she found Jarod lying on the sofa, eyes closed and one arm hanging down towards the floor. Picking up a blanket from an armchair, she gently placed it over him before going back into the kitchen and turning the kettle on. Taking the first of the folders, she rescued her glasses from her bag and, sitting on the bench, skimmed through the paperwork until the kettle boiled. With a deep sigh, she replaced the folder and turned to fill her mug.

"Hard day?"

She jumped and turned to find him standing in the doorway. "It might have been easier if I hadn't just had a heart attack."

Jarod smiled and carefully made his way further into the room. "I'm pretty sensitive. Most people can't do things without me noticing."

"Sensitive and impatient - great combination." She laughed and took a sip of her coffee, watching as he tried to work out whether she was joking. Finally he grinned.

"So, am I dead yet?"

"Have been for hours. The only thing missing is the close-up photos and I'll make those tonight."

She walked up to him, holding out one arm for him to grasp as she passed, and the two went into the living room again.

"I was thinking." Jarod hesitated as he sat down on the sofa. "I don't want Sydney to hear from an office memo - or not hear at all - about this."

Nicole half-smiled, unsurprised at the suggestion, having been expecting something similar since picking up on the comments, from what Jarod had told her, that revealed how important the older man was to him. "I could call him."

He turned to face her. "Would you mind?"

"Not a problem. In fact you told me that Sydney's number is pre-programmed into your phone. It'd make sense if, in an effort to contact the deceased's relatives, I call him." Her lips twitched as she spoke. He smiled in response to her banter as she leaned over and activated the speakerphone.

 

* * *

"This is Sydney."

"You don't know me, Sydney, but I'm a doctor from St. Luke's Hospital in Helena, Montana. My name's Nicole Austen."

"What can I do for you, Doctor Austen?"

"I was wondering," Nicole picked up the autopsy report from the table in front of her and flipped through it noisily. "I have reason to believe that you may be acquainted with one of my patients: a Jarod... Hamilton?"

"Jarod? Yes, I know Jarod. Why, is something wrong?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes." Nicole paused. "He was brought into the hospital after a building collapsed when he was inside it, causing massive injuries. We did everything we could..."

"A... are you saying that... that Jarod is... dead?"

"I'm afraid so. He was kept alive for three days, but a final scan showed no brain activity and there was nothing else we could have done. I'm so sorry."

"He... but... when?"

"At 5:42 yesterday afternoon. I really am so sorry, but we did the best we could. His injuries were just too severe..."

There was a long moment of silence at the other end before it was finally broken. "And can we - I mean - the... the body...?"

"I'm sorry but the hospital has a firm policy under such circumstances and, once the autopsy was completed, it was cremated. I only found your number by chance when the police finally brought his things to the hospital this afternoon. It seems they had difficulty in locating them and couldn't get them to us sooner. If I had been able to contact you earlier, be assured I would have. Please accept my most sincere condolences..."

 

* * *

She closed the folder and placed it on the table under her bag, to be taken by the courier service to Delaware the next day, before getting up from her chair with a groan and stretching her back.

"It's always hard when people die."

Nicole turned to see a gleam in Jarod's eye as he stood in the doorway and she laughed. "Even harder when I have to have a discussion with the deceased only thirty hours after they departed this life forever."

He grinned. "I suppose I should feel guilty... but somehow I don't."

"It's a little late for guilt now. I don't think Sydney would appreciate a call from you to deny what I just said. He's probably still trying to come to terms with it."

She yawned, randomly flipping through a pile of papers that she had to take back with her to the hospital tomorrow.

"Tired?"

"Just so as you'd notice." As she walked past, Nicole reached out and squeezed his hand. "If the deceased could manage no nightmares to wake me up tonight, that would be very considerate."

He smiled slightly. "No promises, but I'll see what I can do."

 

* * *

Nicole woke up, as usual, a few minutes before her clock would have started to ring and put out a hand to turn off the alarm. After so many months of managing to wake up before it roused her she wondered why she even bothered to set it but always did. Maybe it was due to the fact that, when he was there, sometimes they'd - she broke off that train of thought. Getting up, she grabbed her gown and slipped it around her shoulders, going to the bathroom.

Nicole passed Jarod's door and noticed that it was slightly ajar. Unable to help herself, the doctor peeped inside. He lay on his back, one arm stretched wide and the other lying on his bare chest. His uninjured leg hung over the edge of the bed and the cast on his left leg was tangled up in the blankets. His eyes were closed, his face for once wearing a peaceful expression, and listening for a short time, she could tell that he was still asleep. For several minutes she stood in the doorway, watching him. There were things about him that reminded her painfully of... but she wouldn't think about it. She had to get ready for work. Work had been what got her through after he...

Nicole's lower lip trembled slightly and she turned away.

 

* * *

"Dr. Austen? There are some people here who would like to see you."

Harassed, she looked up from her paperwork. "I'm guessing they don't have an appointment."

"No, but they asked for only a few minutes."

Nicole looked at the papers and then up again. "And they have to talk to me?"

"The doctor said that, after your conversation last night..."

"Ah!" Finally realization struck and she nodded. "Right, yes, I'll see them."

Her secretary nodded, leaving the office. Nicole pulled a folder over closer to her and continued to write for a few more moments.

"Doctor Austen?"

She looked up as the four people entered her room. It took her only a second to recognize two of them and she could guess at the identity of the others. Standing, she offered her hand and shook that of the man who had spoken to her.

"Yes, I'm Nicole Austen. You must be Sydney. I apologize for sounding so rude but there was just the one name in Mr Hamilton's phone, so I don't..."

"That's fine." He indicated those who had come in with him. "These are several other people who also knew Jarod."

"Please," she indicated the chairs on the other side of her desk. "Sit down."

"We'll be brief."

Nicole looked across as the woman, whom the doctor assumed was Miss Parker, spoke. "It's fine. I always try to find time for friends of my patients, particularly in situations like this." She reached over and picked up the folder, offering it to Sydney. "I was going to send this to you by courier but I assume that you'll show it to the relevant people."

"You can be sure that that will happen," the third man told her firmly as he paced the room behind where the others sat. Nicole had instantly recognized him from the DSA that she had seen of an experiment to which Jarod had been subjected in 1995. Mr. Lyle glanced at her as Sydney began to look through the report. "Was anything else of his brought here by the police?"

Nicole waved a hand to indicate a bag in the corner of her office, maintaining eye contact as she spoke. "That was all they found, just a few bits and pieces - nothing that told us anything, until we found the phone."

"How did you know his name?"

"A work colleague told the police apparently. That's what we were told when he was brought in."

"And was he conscious at all?"

Nicole looked over to meet Miss Parker's eye as she asked the question. "The autopsy report will show you the extent of his injuries. Personally, I'd say the chances of him knowing anything after the building came crashing down on his head were pretty remote."

Nicole saw Sydney flinch at the description of the accident and she could see the pain he was in. Miss Parker, on the other hand, was either feeling nothing or else was well practiced at hiding her emotions. After what Jarod had said the day before, she guessed it was most likely the latter.

"Was there anything else you wanted to know?"

She watched three of the four exchange glances, Sydney's gaze still focused on the report in his hands.

"No." It was Mr. Lyle who broke the silence. "I think that's all we need." He bent down and was about to pick up the bag when Nicole spoke.

"I'm sorry, but without seeing some form of identification I can't just let you take it." 

Lyle pulled a wallet from his pocket and handed her his driver's license. She quickly took down a few of the details before returning it to him. "Thank-you." Nicole stood as they did. "I do want you to know how truly sorry I am about this."

Sydney looked at her. "We appreciate everything you did for him." She noticed that he kept a firm hold of the folder and saw that the expression in his eyes was still shock. It would take time, she knew, for the news to sink in, and Nicole couldn't help wondering how he would react when it did.

 

* * *

"Jarod?"

Nicole heard a soft curse as she came in through the front door and turned instantly into his room to find him sitting on the bed, a blood-soaked towel against his forehead. She knelt on the floor in front of him and pressed the towel more firmly against the wound, her eyes taking in the blood as it trickled down his face and covered his hands.

"What happened?"

His eyes traveled wildly from left to right. "What are you doing home already?"

She stared at him for a moment in silence. "You have no idea what time it is, do you?" As he shrugged, she leaned forward and looked up into his face. "Did you fall and knock yourself out, Jarod?"

He shrugged again. "I guess..."

"Where?"

"Here."

Nicole looked around. "No blood," she remarked, half to herself. She placed her free hand on his and pressed it to the towel. "I'll get my case and treat that, but I want you to promise me you won't move. Okay?"

He nodded slowly, applying slightly more pressure as she stood up. Going into the bathroom, she could see the marks on the tiles and the pool of red, showing exactly where he had fallen. Taking her first aid kit from the shelf, she returned to the bedroom. Kneeling in front of him, she opened it and quickly extracted what she needed as she spoke.

"I would really appreciate it if you were honest with me, Jarod. I only want to help you - you know that."

He nodded again and then winced as she gently removed the towel from the wound, beginning to wash and treat it.

"Do you remember where you fell?"

"Not really," he admitted grudgingly.

"It was in the bathroom. And do you remember when?"

"The last thing I remember was going to make coffee, maybe about four."

She glanced down at her watch. "Do you know what time it is now?"

Placing one hand on his wrist, she prevented him from feeling his own watch and Jarod shrugged again, estimating roughly how long it had taken him to reach his bed after waking up on the floor, taking into account the fact that Nicole was home from work. "Around six?"

"It's nearly eight." With the bandage neatly applied to his head, she pulled a small flashlight out of the box, shining it into first one eye and then the other. "You do have a mild concussion, but I don't think we need to run you into emergency just so Ann gets another look at you, unless you think it's necessary."

He shook his head slowly and she could see that he was still in pain.

"Did you twist your leg?" Nicole asked gently.

"I think... maybe..." he confessed hesitatingly.

She slid a finger under the cast, easily able to feel the increased warmth and swelling. "You most certainly did. If it's no better tomorrow, I'll take you in and have it x-rayed, to be sure you haven't broken it again. Meanwhile you're spending the day in bed."

"But..."

"No arguments, Jarod," she told him firmly, "or I'll have you readmitted. Clear?"

He nodded somewhat sulkily and she put a hand on his shoulder, feeling that the t-shirt he wore was damp.

"Shall we take this off?"

"I suppose..."

Slowly she raised it, making sure that the material didn't touch his face, and then looked down at his bloodstained skin.

"That can't be comfortable. And if we ignore it, it will only get worse." She picked up a damp cloth and handed it to him. "How about you wipe some of it off while I get a towel and clean the rest of you up?"

As Jarod nodded, she stood and gently squeezed his shoulder with one hand before she left the room. Returning, she placed a cup on his beside table and knelt down in front of him, dabbing at the blood that had run down his face, gently cleaning it out of his eyes and lashes.

"I know you're frustrated, Jarod..."

"Don't," he protested quickly, trying to turn away. "Please."

"What are you afraid of me knowing about you that I don't already?" She took one of his hands in hers, wiping the blood off. "I remember how bad it was, trying to do things faster than I was really able to. And I was angry when I had to have help too. It's a matter of pride that a person can do a thing as basic as stay alone all day without assistance. But sometimes you have to overcome that and ask for help. Especially in times like this." She placed a hand against the cheek she had just wiped clean. "I want you to promise me that, if you need help, you'll ask for it. Nobody else has to know except us."

"And if I don't?" he demanded.

"I'll have a lot more respect for you as a person if you do," she told him quietly

The man considered for a moment in silence before slowly nodding. She smiled and stroked his cheek with her thumb.

"I'm glad, Jarod."

He wasn't able to see the tears Nicole blinked out of her eyes as she picked up the cup that she had brought in earlier, placing it in his hand. Raising an eyebrow, Jarod closed his fingers around the smooth ceramic.

"What is it?"

"Something to help ease the pain."

There was a small smile on his face as he put it to his lips. "I didn't ask for it."

She stood up. "You didn't have to."

 

* * *

It was an hour later that Nicole came and stood beside his bed, watching him sleep. Knowing that the medication would keep him asleep for some time, she put out a hand and ran one finger down his cheek. Particularly now, when he was sleeping, the similarities were so great that they caused a physical pain inside her. They had spoken in the exact same way, had the same movements of the hands - and had been equally stubborn. She'd promised him on the last day that she wouldn't mourn for him too much, and she tried not to. But she hadn't even been able to look at him for the last time that he had looked at her and...

Nicole left his room rapidly and went into hers, closing the door and sitting on her bed. Their bed. It was theirs, even though they had only shared it for a couple of weeks. She picked up his pillow and wrapped her arms around it, her eyes fixed on the photo of him that stood on the bookcase in front of his favorite books. For several minutes, Nicole let the tears flow down her cheeks, before wiping them away and getting up to rescue the papers that she had dropped inside the front door earlier when she had first heard her guest's voice.

 

* * *

Jarod stretched lazily, preparing to throw back the covers and get out of bed, but a voice from the corner stopped him.

"I don't think so."

"You said tomorrow, not today," he protested.

Nicole laughed as she stood up and came to sit on the bed next to him. "It almost is tomorrow. It's about two minutes to midnight."

"Still, that gives me two minutes..." the man argued.

"What did you have planned - a quick jog around the block? Lifting some weights at the gym?"

He grinned. "Actually I was hoping for something edible."

"You're hungry?" She raised an eyebrow despite knowing he couldn't see it. "I'm impressed."

"Hey, I haven't eaten since lunchtime!" Jarod sat up, ignoring the pain and throbbing that started in his head as soon as he moved.

Nicole picked up a pillow and put it behind his head, gently pushing him back against it. "What do you want?"

"What do you have?"

"I thought you went through my cupboards earlier."

Jarod grinned. "Only kind of. I felt a little bad about it, so I didn't search far."

"Well, we could do some shopping the day after... I mean, tomorrow," Nicole corrected, looking at her watch.

"At one in the morning or something horrible?" he grumbled.

She smiled. "Not exactly. I have a week off work now."

"To look after me?" Some of the sulky tone crept back into his voice.

"Don't flatter yourself, Jarod," Nicole laughed. "You aren't that important. No, this was organized months ago and I'm looking forward to it because it means I might actually get some things done that I don't manage when a deputation from the Centre comes to visit me."

"They... what?" Jarod sat up again, his eyes wide, revealing his panic, but she pushed him back.

"I thought you were hungry."

"I was... until you said that."

"Tell you what." She got up from the bed. "I'll make us some soup and toast and tell you all about it."

Darkness Series
Part 3: Kept In The Dark

 

Nicole replaced her empty mug on the tray that she had used to bring the food into the room and looked at Jarod as he ate the last piece of soup-covered toast.

"More?"

"Thanks," he smiled, removing the napkin that had covered his chest while he ate. "But that was enough."

"Did you like it?"

"It was great, but it was plenty, especially with the toast."

"Tomorrow night, if you're up to it, we'll do something big."

"We?" He raised an eyebrow. "You mean you, don't you?"

"No, I mean we." Nicole spoke firmly. "If you dabbled in medicine then you probably also dabbled in cookery and I can always do with expert tuition."

Jarod tried to hide the pleasure he felt at the fact that she thought he could still be useful. Despite his best efforts, she noticed the expression on his face. She had spoken with intent and guessed what effect it would have.

"Meantime," she yawned, taking the mug out of his hand. "I'm going to bed. Is there anything else I can get you?"
He shook his head and pulled one of the pillows out from behind him, placing it carefully against the leg of the bed so that he could find it easily later. "No, thanks anyway."

"Goodnight, Jarod. Call me if there's anything urgent."

"I will." He smiled. "Goodnight."

 

* * *

Nicole opened her door the next morning and watched as Jarod quietly came out of his room. As he passed, she reached out and tapped him on one shoulder, suppressing a giggle as she watched him jump, making her voice stern.

"Good morning. Rebelling against doctor's orders already?"

He turned sheepishly towards her. "I was thinking I might try to cook breakfast."

"And I was thinking you ought to spend the day in bed." She put a hand on his arm and carefully steered him back into his room as he mumbled something under his breath. Trying to contain her laughter, she spoke.

"How does it feel?"

His voice was both impatient and demanding. "Are you this bossy at work?"

She couldn't help laughing at that. "I've gone from the fifty patients or more that I usually have to one, for the next week anyway. So you get the lot."

"Lucky me." Jarod grinned as he cautiously sat on the bed. "And my leg doesn't feel that bad this morning."

"It'll still be better for a day doing nothing, with it up." She saw the expression of frustration cross his face and laughed. "But I guess you don't have to spend it in here."

 

* * *

She settled him into the chair, with his left leg propped up on a footstool. Jarod tucked the blanket around his legs, running his hands over the soft material and trying to imagine what pattern it had. He heard her voice from a distance away, muffled as if she was in a different room, and guessed that she had gone into the kitchen. Her next question confirmed it.

"What do you want for breakfast?"

"You said yesterday that you ran out of cereal," he reminded her. "What do you have left?"

Nicole laughed and, standing in the doorway, threw a foil-covered package into his lap. He picked it up and felt it, taking only seconds to identify it, before turning sightless eyes in her direction, his expression demanding. "How did you know?"

"When the police brought your things to me, a pack fell out. I threw a couple into the bag I let Lyle take, to make it more realistic, and this is what's left. Besides," she laughed, "a man who collects PEZ dispensers has to like pop tarts, doesn't he?"

He grinned and tried to throw it back in the same direction. Nicole dived for it and caught it before it hit the wall. There was a moment of silence as, her eyes dancing, she waited for him to speak. Jarod lowered his eyes in the direction of the floor, expecting a reprimand similar to that which he had received after dropping the stylus, able to offer only one excuse that sounded so fantastic, he was sure she wouldn't believe him.

"I'm sorry. I... I forgot."

"Good," he heard from opposite him in the darkness.

"Huh?" He raised an eyebrow and lifted his head. "How can that be good?"

She walked over and sat down beside him, placing the pop tarts on the table and gathering both of his hands in hers.

"Jarod, if you're forgetting that means you're getting used to it. As that happens more often, you won't be able to get as frustrated and angry as you have been." She smiled, despite knowing it was for her benefit only, gently tapping his forehead beside the white bandage marring it. "That means there'll be less chance of a repeat performance of this."

 

* * *

Loading the dishwasher, she turned it on, hearing it hum into life, before leaving the kitchen and walking into the living room.

"It's raining."

"I can hear it." Jarod raised his voice to be heard above the sound of the teeming rain on the tin roof above their heads. "I'm blind, not deaf."

Nicole hid a smile at the tart tone in his voice and sat down opposite him. "What would you like to do?"

"I suppose going outside is out of the question?" he retorted with a grin.

She laughed as a peal of thunder crashed loudly before leaning forward to turn on the television.

"But..." he protested feebly, feeling suddenly humiliated at his own helplessness. "I can't..."

"With this, you can."

She turned it to Jeopardy, the repeat of an earlier show that she had seen several months before, and reached over to pick up a magazine, smiling to hear Jarod providing the questions ahead of the contestants.

As it finished Nicole turned off the television and handed him a book. "I have some repairs I need to make on the clothes I wear to work. Will you read to me while I do it? I find that makes it easier to concentrate."

He seized the book as it was put into his hands, the same feeling of being useful bringing dimples to his cheeks again. "Not a problem." He ran his finger down the spine. "For Whom The Bell Tolls. I've heard of this."

"It's a classic of modern literature. I just never had the chance to read it."

Nicole selected a needle and threaded it, breaking the cotton with her teeth before she picked up her skirt, the hem of which had come unstitched. Listening as he began to read, Nicole was soon forced to interrupt.

"Slower."

"Huh?"

"I know your fingers are traveling quickly, but you need to slow it down or I won't understand you because your mouth won't keep up. You'll skip words, phrases or even whole sentences and make no sense."

He nodded. "You know about this sort of thing?"

"You could say that." Nicole lowered her face over her work, a tear sliding down her cheek, as he began again.

" 'He lay flat on the brown, pine-needled floor of the forest...' "

* * *

With a grateful sigh, Nicole put the last item on the pile, stretched her cramped fingers and looked over at him as he finished the sentence.

" 'All right,' Pilar said. 'And now, for God's sake let us eat.' "

"Where are we up to?"

"End of Chapter 11."

"Not bad. Not bad at all." She glanced out of the window to where the rain was still drizzling. "And how's the leg?"

"Fine."

His response was sharp and she laughed. "Not a very good patient, are you? Other patients are much more satisfactory. 'Oh, doctor, I've hardly slept the last two nights, my head hurts so much. Can't you help me? Please?' Now that's what I call rewarding."

Jarod grinned, turning his face to hers. "You're just nosey."

"Why else would I have become a doctor?"

Nicole listened to him laugh as she rose to her feet, picking up the pile of clothes. "I'll put these in my room and then teach you to play that card game I promised earlier."

"Sounds good."

Jarod marked the page of the book and then put it on the table in front of him, reaching out to pick up his glass. She came back into the room and he could hear her walking over to the bookshelf.

"What music do you want?"

"Something that will let me think about the game," he retorted at once.

She grinned at him over her shoulder, allowing the amusement to be clear in her voice also. "You don't even know what game we're playing and you're already determined to win."

He raised both hands in mock-innocence. "Where's the fun if you don't win?"

Starting the stereo, she picked up one of the two packs and came back over to the sofa, sitting so that they could both feel the cards.

"There's no pictures on these, so we're very evenly matched here."

"Are you pandering to my competitive side?" he queried, trying to suppress his amusement.

She laughed. "Hey, I have to get an advantage somehow!"

 

* * *

"You've won the last five games, Jarod. I'm never playing with you again!"

He sat back against the chair, his cards in his hand and his voice calm, a smile twitching the corners of his mouth and flexing his dimples. "You won the first one."

"Only because you made that mistake and handed it to me. If it was a mistake."

"I don't make mistakes deliberately," he told her with a grin. "But as you were teaching me, I felt it was only fair that you should be allowed to win one game. Lull you into a false sense of security, you know."

"I'll lull you into a false sense of security!" She threw her cards down on the table and indignantly got to her feet, hands on her hips. "I'll lull you down a long flight of stairs and leave you there!"

Jarod laughed and put his own cards on the table, reaching down to find his glass empty. Picking it up, he waved it in the direction from which he could hear her voice coming, trying to hide a grin.

"Any chance of a refill?"

"Do you deserve one?" she shot back.

"Probably not," he admitted honestly. "But if you don't get me one then I'll have to get up and get it on my own, and - "

She snorted and took the glass out of his hand, heading into the kitchen.

 

* * *

Nicole looked up from her book to see that the pace of his reading had slowed so that his fingers barely moved across the page. Looking at Jarod's face, she watched his eyes close, only to open again as he forced his head upright, unable to prevent it from lolling forward almost immediately. Finally his hand ceased its movement over the pages and the book gradually dipped from the upright position in which he had been holding it, coming to rest against his leg. His eyes closed for a moment before he forced them back up again. But eventually Jarod gave a soft sigh, let his eyelids fall one final time, and relaxed back in the chair.

An amused grin crossed Nicole's face as she recalled his earlier denials that he could possibly be tired. Easing the book out from between his fingers, she marked the page before placing it silently on the table in front of him. She checked that the blanket was still firmly wrapped around his body and then looked at his face to see that he had remained asleep before picking up the glasses and going into the kitchen. When the phone rang, she dove to answer it before it woke him up.

"Hello?"

"Is Mystery Man napping or something?"

Nicole laughed quietly as she carried the cordless phone into her bedroom and sat, cross-legged, on the bed. "Actually, yes, now that you ask. How's work?"

"Oh, busy as usual. Just called to say that we miss your beaming presence."

"Thanks, Ann. I appreciate it."

"How have you been spending your first day of vacation?"

"Sewing, watching television and getting thoroughly beaten at cards."

Ann laughed. "Which game?"

"Paul's favorite." Her voice lowered and she looked up at his photograph. There was a moment of silence at the other end.

"I'm sorry, Nic."

"Hey, I'm coping." She sighed. "I just can't help wondering... what he would say if he knew. About Jarod, I mean."

"Well, I figured you weren't talking about the sewing." Ann's voice became more serious. "Do you really think he'd mind?"

"I don't know. Sometimes no, but at other times... well, it was his room for a long time, before..."

"You could hardly have the invalid sleeping on the veranda!"

Nicole laughed softly. "Just add pneumonia to the list."

"I really don't think he'd see anything wrong in it, Nic. Paul wasn't the envious or possessive type. He'd just see it as just another step in the healing process."

"They even look so alike," Nicole murmured.

"If I'd known, I wouldn't have called you in on it."

"I'm glad you did." Nicole sighed. "It might go some way towards getting rid of the last of the hurt. It almost gives me another chance... to see him again."

"I know. I thought that too. But it's not the same. The roles are virtually reversed."

"And that gives me an even greater insight into what he went through with me making his life hell for four months."

"Hell?" Ann's voice revealed her skepticism. "Nic, the only hell Paul went through was having to say goodbye that last time."

Nicole wiped a tear from her cheek. "Do you want me to break down, or was that unintentional?"

"Completely unintentional. You know that I..."

"I know." Nicole heard the sound of a voice in the background. "Is that you I hear being paged?"

Ann sighed. "No doubt. Enjoy the rest of your vacation. I might come around and make sure that you're behaving yourselves on the way home from work."

"Do that," Nicole smiled. "We'll look forward to it."

She went back into the kitchen and returned the phone to the charger. Grabbing her key, she ran out to the mailbox, rescuing the damp letters and going back inside. As she came into the kitchen to sort out the mail, she saw Jarod leaning on the crutches that she had got out the night before, for necessities. Nicole shook the droplets out of her hair as she walked over to him.

"I guess it's still raining out," the man remarked, feeling the cold water on his face and struggling to suppress his amusement, with a good idea of the comment that would reply to this.

"And I guess it was too much to expect you to be obedient for one day."

Jarod grinned in her direction as he carefully refilled his glass, using one finger to make sure that it wasn't overfull.

Nicole smiled and poured a drink for herself, carrying both glasses into the living room, knowing that Jarod was following. "I just spoke to Ann. She mentioned something about coming to visit on her way home from work."

"Sounds like fun. Does she know any card games I can beat her at too?" Jarod's eyes twinkled as he turned his head in her direction and she laughed.

"I'm sure we can find something, but I don't know if it's the best idea to humiliate the entire staff of St. Luke's. They might come in handy one day."

"They already have." The amusement disappeared from his face and his tone became serious. "I owe them a larger debt than I can repay."

"Well, you can start by not trying to reinjure yourself on my bathtub. Do you know how long it took me to clean up all your blood? And that towel will never be the same."

"I'll buy you a new one." His eyes gleamed in fun again. "In fact, I'll restock your entire cupboard if that will help."

She laughed. "I think we can probably find another way for you to express your undying gratitude, but I'll let you know."

 

* * *

Nicole watched as he completed a solitaire game and gathered the cards together, shuffling them professionally.

"So I guess you worked in a casino or something too, huh?"

"Only until I became a game warden."

She laughed, replacing her glasses to continue reading an article in a medical magazine.

He raised an eyebrow at her silence. "You don't believe me?"

"We've been through this."

Jarod grinned and sat back, his face turned to her. When she remained silent, he put his hand on the table, reaching for the book. Nicole watched him over the top of her glasses, knowing that he wouldn't find it. For several minutes, she waited in silence as he ran his hands over the surface in front of him, before turning once more in her direction.

"Where is it?"

"Is that a request for help?" she asked softly.

"If you want to take it that way," he admitted, grudgingly, "yes."

She reached over and picked up the book from where it sat beside his injured leg, placing it in his hand. His sigh as she did so was audible and she reached over to gently put one hand on his.

"Well done, Jarod."

He nodded and tried to concentrate on the book, but she noticed that his fingers remained still for several moments before they began to move slowly over the raised dots.

 

* * *

Jarod put the book down and sat back, wincing as a sharp pain shot up his leg. What had started that morning as a slight twinge had gradually increased to its current state of near-agony, but he was trying not to let her see how much it hurt. A moment later, a thin glass tube being put into his mouth distracted him from the pain as she picked up his wrist.

"What...?"

"Don't talk, Jarod," came the doctor's voice from over his head. "Keep that under your tongue."

He heard the beeps as she dialed a number on the speakerphone.

"Emergency."

"This is Dr. Austen. Is Dr. Stevens still there?"

"Yes, Dr. Austen."

"Good. Can I have a word with her, please?"

There was a moment of silence on the other end before a familiar voice spoke.

"Hi, Nic. What's up?"

She removed the thermometer from his mouth. "Hi, Ann. Don't worry about coming around to see us. We'll come in and see you instead."

The woman on the other end laughed. "What's he done?"

"Tried to be too independent. I'd like you to have x-ray ready and have Phil Barnard on standby."

"That bad, huh?"

"At a guess, yes."

"You want an ambulance?"

"We'll manage. See you soon."

She disconnected the call and then left the room, returning to place his leather jacket around his shoulders, readying herself to support him.

"Come on, let's go."

His protest was weak. "But..."

"No arguments, Jarod. We're going."

 

* * *

"Obviously you have no concept of the word 'vacation'."

Nicole looked around as she knelt beside the passenger door to see Ann standing next to the car, her hands resting on the back of a wheelchair.

"I'm so attached to this place that I'll come up with any excuse to visit it," Nicole joked as she slid a hand under Jarod's leg, helping him turn so that he could get out of the car. The doctors settled him into the chair and wheeled it inside, another figure joining them.

"Evening, Phil."

"Hello, Nicole. Couldn't even stay away for a day, huh?"

She smiled, helping the injured man up onto a trolley in the examination room. "Jarod, this is Dr. Barnard."

"Hi."

Jarod's voice had lost the strength that it had earlier had and Nicole looked sharply at him, noting the lack of color in his lips and the red flush of his cheeks, as well as the brilliant glitter of his eyes that had attracted her attention earlier. Jarod leaned gratefully back against the raised head of the gurney, feeling as if the world was swimming around him and wincing as sharp pain flashed along his leg, swallowing to try and force back the urge to vomit that the pain caused. Voices seemed to waver in volume around him and he closed his eyes, suddenly grateful that the decision had been taken out of his hands and that somebody else was responsible as he felt two hands performing a quick but gentle examination.

"I'll leave you to it," Ann remarked as she turned away. "Call me if I'm needed."

"We will, Ann," Nicole responded. "Thanks."

"What have you been doing to yourself, Jarod?" Phil asked, as Ann left the cubicle.

"He knocked himself out on my bathtub 24 hours ago." Nicole told him, moving away to let her colleague examine the man more closely. "I think he twisted when he fell and I suspect it's been getting worse all day."

The doctor uncapped a small syringe, aware of the patient's existing injuries. "Jarod, I'm going to give you something to ease the pain before we start finding out what you've done. You'll just feel a tiny prick in the back of your right hand..."

 

* * *

Finally the saw was switched off and the doctor cracked open the two halves of the cast, easing them away from the injured leg. Nicole took them out of Phil's hand and threw them into the bin, looking up to see the patient biting his bottom lip, still able to feel the sharp pain despite the drug that was making him feel woozy.

"It's okay, Jarod." Nicole rested one hand gently on his, watching as his head rolled slowly in her direction. "That part's over."

The doctor carefully slid the lead plate under the injured limb, looking up as the man winced. He handed his colleague the lead blanket and watched as she put it over him before stepping away from the bed.

"Try not to move, Jarod. This will only take a few minutes."

When the x-rays were taken, Dr. Barnard removed the photographic plates and gave them to the nurse who had been waiting inside the room. As her colleague wheeled the machine out of the room, Nicole reached over and put her hand on Jarod's.

"Are you okay?"

Eyes still closed, he licked his lips and then nodded, speaking carefully with lips that felt numb. "I guess..."

"This would've been a lot easier if you'd just said it was sore this morning."

"I didn't want... to take your job away from you."

She laughed and then reached forward, gently brushing the side of his face with the backs of her fingers. "And it's been this bad all day?"

"Not earlier," he admitted groggily. "But it got worse."

She nodded, gently covering him with the blanket that had been removed for the x-rays. "Just try to rest, Jarod. We have to wait for the results to come through before we can do anything else."

"What do you think?" he asked slowly, fighting against the urge to sleep that was increasing now nothing more was being done to his leg and the pain was fading somewhat.

"I'm not going to say; that's Dr. Barnard's specialty. Mine's your head, and we've treated that."

Jarod nodded and sighed drowsily, his muscles suddenly tightening as a shiver went through him, moving his leg slightly. Nicole unclenched one fist and entwined her fingers with his.

"It's all right, Jarod." She reached up and gently placed her other hand on his cheek, watching as his eyelids slid shut, only to flutter several times before they lifted again. "Try to relax."

 

* * *

Thirty minutes later Nicole looked up to see Dr. Barnard in the doorway. Releasing her hand from Jarod's fitfully sleeping and feverish grasp she stood up to join the other doctor.

"What is it?" Her voice was almost lost in the hubbub of the emergency room, but her colleague heard it.

"I don't know if the transverse fracture had even begun to heal, but when he fell, one of the bones shifted so we've now got a very messy compound fracture. I'm going to do an open reduction and internal fixation, and insert a tibial intra-medullary rod. I've got a team waiting."

Nicole nodded and held the x-ray up to the light, her lips thinning as she saw the way the larger bone had moved out of position. "Nasty." She looked up. "I'm glad it's you and not me."

"You've had your share of jigsaw puzzles too."

She laughed softly. "I won't deny that, but I try to avoid late-night surgery."

He smiled. "Shall we tell him?"

"Hey, you're the doctor!" she protested indignantly.

"So what does that make you?" Dr. Barnard queried in amusement.

"I guess... the visitor."

Phillip Barnard laughed. "Well, 'the visitor' can go and check her other patients while I've got him in theatre."

The doctors re-entered the cubicle and Nicole touched Jarod's shoulder, gently shaking the man to wake him. Dr. Barnard spoke as she stepped away.

"Jarod, I've got the test results here. You've badly damaged the larger bone in your lower leg. Do you understand what I mean?"

The patient nodded and Nicole hid a smile as she noticed the look of surprise in her colleague's eyes. The specialist continued.

"I want to insert a rod to hold it still. It's not a very big operation, but we have to do it now."

"How... long?" he mumbled.

"About three hours. Perhaps a little more."

Jarod nodded again, closing his eyes.

"I'll send some people down to bring you to theatre in about ten minutes." Phil placed his hand on Nicole's shoulder as he passed her and left the room. When he was gone, Jarod opened his eyes again, turning his head to where she stood beside him.

"Can you... be there?"

"Not in theatre, no. But I'll be there when you come out. And I'll stay with you now until you go in."

He reached out a hand and she placed hers on top of it.

"I'm... sorry," he murmured drowsily.

"It's all right, Jarod. You've got nothing to be sorry for. These things happen sometimes." Nicole cautiously leaned against the side of the gurney. "But if you wanted to come back to the hospital this badly, all you really had to do was say so."

Nicole saw the slight smile on his face as she spoke and smiled in response, gently squeezing his hand. Jarod felt the reassuring grasp and tightened his hold on her fingers, letting his eyelids slip shut and relaxing back against the pillow as he felt himself sliding thankfully into a drug-induced, pain-free sleep.

 

* * *

Nicole waited at the back of the recovery room as the bed was wheeled in, an oxygen mask on Jarod's face and a heartbeat monitor clipped to the finger of his right hand. As she watched, one of the nurses walked over and gently shook him.

"Jarod? Come on, it's time to wake up now."

His eyelids lifted slightly and his eyes moved slowly from left to right before they closed again, but the nurse was satisfied and stepped away from the bed. As Nicole straightened up, Dr. Barnard came over to her, pulling down his mask.

"How did it go?"

"As well as I would have expected. He's got a few days here before we can let him go home, and then he'll have to stay off that leg for a few weeks, but as long as he doesn't do anything stupid, it should be back to at least semi-normal within six to eight weeks."

Nicole rolled her eyes. "Well, you can have the fun job of telling him that one."

"If he goes back to your house, you'll have to enforce it."

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. "Does the whole hospital know about that fact, or have you been talking to Ann?"

He laughed and refused to answer, changing the subject. "Are you going to stay here tonight?"

"I'm not sure, but I doubt it. Not unless he wants me to anyway."

* * *

Jarod could feel that the sheets were firmly tucked in around him as he gradually awoke, tempted to just let himself slip back into the warm drowsiness he felt, but a sound attracted his attention. It took a moment before he gathered enough energy to speak clearly, and in that time he formed a supposition as to the identity of the person beside his bed.

"N... Nicole?"

Putting down a magazine she had been reading while he slept, she stretched out her hand to rest it on his arm.

"I'm right here, Jarod. It's okay."

He swallowed thickly, turning his head slowly in her direction so his sightless eyes came to rest at a point above her head. His speech, when he spoke, was still slurred. "What... time is it?"

"Just after midnight."

Feeling the slight pressure of plastic around his mouth and nose, Jarod reached up to try to push the oxygen mask off his face with a clumsy hand, but Nicole stopped him. "Leave it alone, Jarod. You need it."

"No..." he murmured sleepily.

"You do," she laughed, holding his fingers firmly to prevent him from removing. "You wouldn't be able to take it off anyway, so just leave it there." 

"Are you... staying...?"

"Do you want me to?"

He tried to shrug but was hampered by the effects of the anesthetic.

"I think you'll be fine without me but I'll be back later to see how you are." Nicole stood up, placing her hand on his shoulder. "Sleep well, Jarod."

Looking at him, she could see that he was already asleep again and smiled as she bent down to kiss him gently on one cheek before picking up her things and leaving the room.

 

* * *

Nicole pushed the door shut behind her and went into the kitchen, switching off the few lights that were still on from when they had left the house. Yawning, she was about to go into her own room when she saw the unmade bed in his. She stripped the bed and, opening the cupboard, took out a clean set of sheets, rapidly remaking it. Picking up the dirty linen, Nicole took it into the laundry before going into her room, changing into pajamas and crawling into bed. She was asleep before her eyes even had a chance to focus properly on Paul's photo.

 

* * *

She was awake before the phone finished the first ring, stretching out a hand and picking up the receiver without even opening her eyes.

"Hello?"

"Dr. Austen, I'm sorry to disturb you so early..."

Nicole looked at the clock and saw that it was only a quarter to four. Rolling her eyes, she sat up, the professional part of her mind reluctantly taking over "Are you aware that I'm supposed to be on vacation?"

"Yes, ma'am, but Dr. Richards asked you to consult on a case and said that he'd allot you more time off later."

She rolled her eyes again. "Well, I guess if the boss says..."

Getting out of bed, Nicole turned on the speaker and began to dress as the nurse explained the condition of the patient.

 

* * *

At eight thirty she appeared in the doorway of Jarod's room and looked in, glancing at the nurse who stood beside her.

"He had a good night," the woman offered immediately. "Slept for most of it and his temperature's been steadily going down since he was brought up here from theatre."

Nicole laughed. "Thanks for the information, but I'm not the consulting surgeon on this case. Has Dr. Barnard been yet?"

"Almost an hour ago."

Jarod heard the voices in the doorway and roused himself out of the comfortable drowsiness he'd been feeling all morning, hearing familiar footsteps cross the floor before other sounds suggested that she was pulling a chair up beside the bed and sitting in it. Turning his head in her direction, he enunciated carefully to ensure that she would be able to understand him, now fighting against the urge to sleep.

"Isn't it a little too early for you to be paying calls?"

"Not when I was here at four." She laughed. "How's the leg?"

"Better than it was yesterday." He smiled faintly before continuing. "What were you doing here at four?"

"Having my vacation ruined by somebody who decided to get hit by a car for no apparent reason except that it seemed like a good idea at the time."

He raised an eyebrow. "Sounds messy."

"Especially considering they were drunk enough to try and pretend that it was a matador and they were a bull."

Jarod tried not to laugh. "How did you learn that? I'm guessing the patient couldn't tell you."

"His friends were more than happy to. Luckily the car was driven by one of his drunken buddies who couldn't accelerate fast enough to cause that much damage. I'd say he'll probably be out of hospital before you are."

"And when can I leave?"

She choked back a laugh at the eagerness in his voice. "That depends."

"On?" Jarod demanded, trying to pull himself upright in bed, but eventually giving up, sinking back against the pillow.

"How obedient you're willing to be. If you do as you're told, Dr. Barnard said that you could leave in a few days. If you're going to play the stubborn and obstinate game again, I'll refuse to take you in and you'll have to stay here with the whole thing of getting woken at six, bad food, etcetera."

"Did anyone ever tell you that you're supposed to be nice to injured people?" he scolded.

"Possibly once or twice," she admitted. "But I don't pay that much attention to advice generally."

Jarod laughed before suddenly yawning, feeling the urge to sleep sweep over him again, and the tone of his voice changed abruptly, revealing his frustration. "I honestly don't know what's wrong with me today, but I can't stay awake for longer than about ten minutes at a stretch."

Nicole eyed the plastic bag on the I.V. stand and the tube that led into the back of his left hand as her lips twitched, but she refrained from mentioning it. "That could, of course, be something to do with the fact that you had surgery twelve hours ago."

Jarod smiled faintly as his eyes closed, unable to keep them open.

"Could be."

His voice was a murmur and she watched his hand slide from his stomach onto the mattress. She tucked it gently under the blankets and then turned away from the bed to find Ann standing in the doorway.

"Hmm, looks suggestive."

Nicole snorted as the two of them went down the hall. "Give me patience, and heaven defend me from so-called friends who spread gossip about me around the hospital."

Ann turned, wide-eyed. "I never did!"

"No, of course not!" Nicole's voice was sarcastic. "So suddenly even the head of this place knows that he's staying in my spare room?"

"Peter Richards knows that?" Ann eyed her in amazement. "How?"

"I think that's the question I'm meant to be asking you. But he did know, and told me this morning while we were operating that he thought it was very noble of me to take him in."

Ann laughed. "Well it is. Noble, I mean. Of course, we know that there are ulterior motives..."

"If we weren't here, I'd punish you for that! As it is..."

"I consider myself punished." She smiled. "I saw the new patient this morning. He's a real mess."

Nicole nodded. "It seems incredibly unfair to me that idiots do something like that and only end up with a couple of scars and a bad headache, while others save lives and it results in the possibility of them never seeing again."

Ann's eyes softened in sympathy. "No change, huh?"

"Not yet, unless he isn't telling me. But I don't think so."

Her face became sad and Ann slipped an arm around hers squeezing gently. "I'm sure it helps to have somebody who understands what he's going through."

Darkness Series
Part 4: In Total Darkness

 

"Where have you been?" Jarod's voice demanded before Nicole even stepped into the room.

She leaned against the doorjamb with her arms folded on her chest. "I'm impressed you knew it was me."

"Lucky guess," he laughed, turning his face away from her to where the light streamed on to the bed. She walked over and sat beside him.

"Jarod, can you tell the difference between one side of the room and the other?"

"What do you mean?" His face bore an expression of confusion.

"There's sunlight coming in through the window on one side. Can you see it or do you only go by where the warmth is coming from?"

"Only by what I feel on my skin." Jarod's expression became sober as he turned to her. "Was that how you first knew?"

"One of the ways. Sometimes I could sense that it wasn't quite so dark in one place and we did a test to prove it." She placed one hand on his arm, one finger coming to rest on the bandage that held the intravenous needle in place, and then looked at him with narrow eyes.

"Jarod, why is this hand damp?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," the man muttered, shrugging. Jarod tried to pull his hand away, annoyed that she'd noticed, but she prevented it, pressing the buzzer pinned to his pillow and keeping his hand firmly in hers until a nurse appeared in the doorway.

"Yes, Dr. Austen?"

"Would you see if Dr. Barnard has a moment?"

"Of course."

The nurse left the room and Nicole couldn't help laughing at Jarod's glum expression.

"I was wondering how you seemed so alert today. You did it, didn't you?" Placing one hand under his chin, Nicole forced his head in her direction so that she could see his face. Jarod shrugged for a second time, carefully keeping his expression neutral.

"What's up, Nicole?" queried a male voice from the doorway and Jarod cursed silently.

She gently tugged on the I.V. tube, so that it slipped free, and let it dangle from her fingers as her eyes danced. "Your patient decided he didn't feel like behaving himself."

"Jarod, did you pull that out?"

"And he tucked in into the bandage so that nobody would notice it unless they touched his hand." Nicole's lips twitched as she looked at her colleague but she managed to keep her voice serious. Hiding his own amusement, Dr. Barnard unwrapped the bandage and dropped it into the kidney dish that the nurse held out for him, keeping his voice stern as he looked at the other man.

"I hate to tell you, Jarod, but I will win this one, if we have to knock you out with a needle full of the stuff every four hours."

"I don't need it," the other man muttered in resentful tones.

"On the contrary, you do," the doctor assured him. "That will give your leg its best chance to heal completely and without it you'll have to stay here a lot longer. It's also giving the rest of your body a break from the pain."

"I'd say he knows that already, Phil. I told you he was stubborn." She eyed the patient. "I thought you were keen to get out of here, Jarod, but I told you that you'd have to behave yourself before it was even considered. The only other option is to leave you in here until that leg is strong enough for you to walk on unaided and that could be weeks away." Nicole waited to see if he was going to comment, but he stayed silent, so she continued. "It's your choice, Jarod, but we don't want to waste either energy or time on a patient who won't appreciate it. Not to mention all the expensive drugs we thought we were giving you."

Dr. Barnard grinned at her and then turned back to the bed. "What's it going to be Jarod? I.V. or shots?"

"No third option?"

Nicole struggled to contain her amusement at his tones as her colleague answered the question.

"None."

A look of annoyance on his face, Jarod offered his hand, but before re-inserting the I.V. needle, Dr. Barnard hesitated. "I want you to promise me that you won't pull it out again."

Jarod's voice was sulky. "I promise."

Nicole removed the old needle from the tube and exchanged it for a new one before handing it to the other doctor. Jarod winced slightly as it was slipped into a vessel on the back of his hand and fixed with a piece of tape. All three staff members exchanged amused glances before the doctors left the room to enjoy their laughter in peace.

 

* * *

"How you'll cope with him when you get home is anybody's guess."

Nicole laughed. "I can manage him. But I thought, as you're his doctor, you should be called in to see it."

He sat in the chair opposite her desk, eyes twinkling. "Well, it certainly provided a good source of entertainment anyway. How is he now?"

"The way he was before. Sedated. And when he has the energy to be, angry at me for noticing."

"He may not want to stay with you again," Phil suggested.

"He has no other options and he knows it."

The man's face became serious. "How were you managing with him there?"

"It wasn't a problem. We changed furniture when I was brought home after my accident and that's all still there, so it's pretty convenient."

"And if he takes another tumble?"

"That could happen anywhere, particularly considering the fact that he likes getting up to wander around on his own. I'll just have to keep a better eye on him during my rescheduled vacation."

"When will that be?"

"As of whenever this new patient is released until Monday week, provided that it's at least seven days. And I can do with it."

He eyed the shadows under her eyes. "It looks like it. Did you get any sleep after leaving, before they called?"

"About three hours. But I'm going soon. Peter said he'd stay with the bull."

Dr. Barnard laughed and got up. "Well, I have patients to see. I suppose I'll see you back here in the morning?"

"I'd say that's quite likely. Good night, Phil."

 

* * *

She stood beside the bed and watched him sleep, eyes dancing with amusement as she recalled the scene from that afternoon.

"Going home?"

"Oh, eventually." Nicole turned away from the bed, speaking quietly. "I was going to say goodbye, if he was awake." She walked towards the door. "And how's our bull feeling now?"

Peter Richards laughed as she pulled the door half-closed. "Can't remember a thing, which isn't so surprising considering that he was almost four times over the legal limit. Apparently the police want to charge him, but they can't seem to stop laughing long enough to take notes."

"I'll bet." She grinned. "Do you need me for anything else tonight, Peter, or can I head off now?"

"Go home." Peter gave her a gentle push in the direction of the elevators. "Catch up on the sleep you'll miss out on when Jarod's allowed back with you."

She shot a sharp look over her shoulder at him, but he had already turned away.

 

* * *

She lay awake for a lot longer than she thought she would, thinking over a number of things, but for some reason her mind always came back to him - to both of them. Her reason for inviting him to stay with her had been more selfish than he could ever realize. She couldn't bear the thought of losing the chance to get to know better the person who reminded her so much of Paul. But now she found that she was thinking about him more and Paul less and it was making her angry with herself. As soon as he was able to, he would leave. She knew it and she'd thought it hundreds of times, but it didn't stop her from thinking about him in the way that she hadn't thought about men at all since Paul had...

Finally, unable to take it any longer, Nicole reached over and picked up the phone.

"Ward 21. Sister Mackay speaking."

"Hello, Tania. This is Nicole Austen."

"Good evening, Dr. Austen. What can I do for you?"

"Just a personal enquiry about Dr. Barnard's newest patient on your ward."

"Jarod? Let me check."

A different voice came on the line. "Dr. Austen? Jarod's doing well, but he wanted to talk to you about five minutes ago when I went in to see him."

"If he's awake now, I'll say hello." She wrapped herself more firmly in her blanket and listened as the phone clicked over.

"You left without saying goodbye," a male voice protested drowsily in her ear.

Nicole smiled. "I'm sorry, Jarod, but I didn't want to wake you."

"It's okay."

"Are you behaving now?" she asked, trying not to laugh as she imagined the expression that was probably on his face at her question.

"I don't have much choice, do I?" Jarod returned somewhat resentfully.

She chuckled. "No, not really. As Dr. Barnard said, we'll always win."

"When can I come home?"

Her lips twisted but she resolutely kept the emotion out of her voice. "Only when Dr. Barnard says you can, but that will depend on how you behave." She listened as he yawned. "I think it's time for both of us to get some sleep."

"'Kay." There was a pause. "G'night."

"Goodnight, Jarod. Sleep well."

Nicole replaced the handset and sat staring blankly at it for a moment.

Come home?

Why had he said that?

It had to be the medication. He was so doped up that it was no wonder his tones were those of a child, but he sounded so lonely and helpless that it almost made her want to go in and sleep next to his bed all night, the way she had... 

She closed her eyes and willed the tears away. That was the bad thing about this whole situation - everything he did reminded her so much of Paul that it would only be a matter of time before she broke down in front of him and - no. Nicole shook her head. That was something that she couldn't allow herself to do. There weren't too many people who knew the truth about what had happened between them, and a patient of hers with no last name certainly wasn't going to gain admission to that special group, no matter how much he might remind her of Paul in everything he did.

 

* * *

It was somewhat warily that she approached his room the next morning and went in to sit beside his bed. After several seconds, as if her presence had woken him, his eyelids slowly lifted and his head turned towards her, his words announcing that he knew she was there.

"I was hoping you'd come."

"Hey, I couldn't leave you here alone, to the mercy of the staff and the food." She placed the book that she was carrying into his hand. "I thought, for the times that you were awake, you might want something to do and you never finished it."

Jarod smiled tiredly. "I was just thinking about that this morning after my regular six a.m. wake-up call."

"It doesn't look like it worked very well," she retorted as he yawned, and she saw that his eyelids were drooping.

"That's your fault," he told her somewhat grumpily. "If you want me awake, you shouldn't tell tales about me to the other staff members."

"I never said I wanted you awake. And it has to feel better with less pain."

"Well, maybe..." His admission was as grudging as he could make it considering the way he felt, and he blinked drowsily.

"Did Dr. Barnard come to see you this morning?"

He nodded sleepily. "He said he'd... talk to you..."

Nicole watched as his eyes finally closed and stayed that way. After several moments, she stood up and put the book on the table, before slipping one of his arms under the blankets, leaving that on her side with the I.V. out to allow easy access. She eased the extra pillow out from underneath his head so he was lying flat, before stepping away and looking down at him as a stream of tears flowed down her cheeks. Nicole never noticed the few that fell onto Jarod's hand nor the fact that, as she turned to leave, his thumb moved to brush the damp spots away.

 

* * *

"Good morning, Jarod. Morning, Nicole."

"Hello Dr. Barnard."

Nicole couldn't help smiling at the formality with which Jarod had addressed her colleague since the incident with the I.V. and the grin he shot at her told Dr. Austen that Phil was also enjoying the joke. His voice when he spoke to the man in the bed, however, didn't reveal his amusement.

"How are you feeling this morning?"

The patient shrugged. "I don't know what I feel with this." He lifted his left hand briefly and Nicole struggled to contain her laughter.

"What say we take it out?"

"Really?"

The urge to laugh dissolved as the childish tones came into Jarod's voice and Nicole glanced at him sharply. Dr. Barnard continued as though nothing had happened.

"It's hard for you to leave with it still in."

Jarod's tones became more eager as he struggled up onto his elbows. "I can...?"

"I think so. If we were just sending you home I'd be more cautious, but as you're being released into the care of one of the best..."

"No flattery, Phil," Nicole put in quickly, "or I'll rescind the offer to take him off your hands."

"Anyway, Jarod, I think we may as well free up the bed. Sound good?"

The patient nodded keenly. "When?"

"As soon as we get the paperwork sorted and signed. Probably about an hour."

"I'll be ready."

Dr. Barnard pressed the ball of cotton wool onto the back of Jarod's hand, sliding the needle out, capping it and passing it to the nurse, who wheeled the stand out of the room. The cotton wool was taped down before Phil Barnard, with a quick look at Nicole, also left the room. She watched him leave and then looked down at the man in the bed as Jarod turned his head in her direction.

"Did you...?" He broke off his sentence to yawn.

Nicole leaned forward, smiling. "Did I what, Jarod?"

"Did you organize this?"

"I thought that it might be a nice surprise for you - and that you might forgive me for telling tales."

He smiled sleepily. "But I'll still be like this..."

"The drugs will wear off in a couple of hours and we can use the time they're still active to get you home without much extra pain. But you'll still need to have painkillers once we're there for at least the next few days."

Nicole could see that, if he had the energy, he would argue the point with her and she placed one hand on his.

"Jarod, you have only three options, I'm afraid."

She smiled as she could almost see his mind working. "Here, there and what else?"

A small grin appeared on her face. "I tell the Centre that I made a terrible mistake and you aren't dead at all."

Awake immediately, he could feel the panic rising and he knew it would be evident in his eyes as he turned his head quickly in her direction. "You wouldn't!"

"You're right," she told him as she ran a finger down his cheek. "I wouldn't. But I just wanted you to be aware of it."

He relaxed at both her touch and her words, letting his eyes slip shut as he smiled. "I'll be good."

She closed her own eyes and fought to maintain her composure as his voice took on the childlike tones that affected her so much. The way Paul had spoken...

 

* * *

Jarod roused himself enough from the half-sleep into which the painkillers sent him to ask a question that had occurred to him earlier.

"What day is this?"

"It's late on Wednesday morning, Jarod. You came into the hospital on Saturday evening and did your little trick with the I.V. on Monday."

He nodded, lying on the stretcher in the back of the ambulance. Nicole exchanged amused looks with the officer sitting opposite her as she spoke.

"And when we get home...?"

"You're going straight to bed."

"I thought so." He paused. "Do you have to go back to work?"

"No, Jarod. My patient got released last night and now I have an extended holiday from now until the Monday after next. That's why you were allowed home early - so I can keep an eye on you."

"Mmm hmm."

He was asleep again when they finally pulled up into the driveway and Nicole saw Ann sitting on the porch. Getting out as soon as the door was open, she tossed the keys over to her friend and bent over him.

"Jarod? Hey, wake up. We're home."

"Hi, Jarod."

He turned his head at the sound of the new voice. "Doctor Stevens?"

Ann raised her eyebrows as she looked up at her friend. "Since when has he been this polite?"

"Since I've threatened him with all sorts of nasties if he isn't," Nicole laughed.

"You're a regular bully."

"I told her that, too," the man put in.

Ann laughed. "I doubt, Jarod, if you've been in much of a state to be able tell her anything."

He smiled sleepily but didn't respond, closing his eyes once more. Nicole nodded at the men who maneuvered the stretcher through the front door and into his room. Carefully they helped him into bed before leaving. As he listened to the vehicle pulling out of the driveway, Jarod slid his hands over the covers while Nicole made sure that the metal frame stopped the blankets from resting on his bandaged leg.

"You've changed the sheets."

"I did that on Saturday night, or, to be precise early Sunday morning, after I came home. I thought it might be nice for you, whenever you got back here."

"Thanks."

"Comfortable?"

He nodded wordlessly, closing his eyes with a small, grateful-sounding sigh. Nicole put a hand on his for a second before turning and leaving the room. She pulled the door almost shut and looked up to find Ann leaning against the wall beside her.

"Okay?"

"If he behaves himself," Nicole offered cautiously.

Ann grinned. "I was talking about you."

Nicole smiled. "I'm fine. I got a fair amount of sleep last night."

"He really does look a lot like him..."

"Please, Ann. I don't want to talk about Paul now."

They entered the kitchen and Nicole turned on the kettle as her friend sat up on the bench.

"I was thinking I might be generous..."

"You?" Nicole raised an eyebrow. "Are you sick or something?"

"Thanks!" Ann laughed. "No, but I don't have to be at work until later and thought I'd volunteer to stay here with Mystery Man while you did some shopping. You've got almost empty cupboards."

Nicole raised an eyebrow. "How did you know?"

"I looked, of course. What do you think I am, psychic?"

The home's owner opened the fridge to look at the empty shelves. "You could be right."

"And you could go to the library and grab some more books for you both."

"Anyone would think you were trying to get rid of me."

Ann smiled. "I'm just trying to be concerned."

"Well, I'm going to take you up on your offer, so try to contain your disappointment at being left all alone with Sleeping Beauty for a few hours."

She listened to Ann's laughter as she picked up her purse and checked that there was sufficient money inside it, and collecting her car keys.

 

* * *

The man stretched lazily, feeling a pain in his leg as he moved. There was a dry, somewhat bitter taste in his mouth and he cautiously stretched out his hand towards the bedside table, hoping the cup of water that usually sat there was in its regular position. His fingers had just brushed against the smooth plastic when he heard a voice from the doorway.

"Jarod? Are you okay?"

He turned, wide-awake, towards the voice. Having expected to hear Nicole's now-familiar tones, it took a moment before he could recognize the speaker. "Who...?"

"It's Ann, Jarod. Nicole went to do some shopping and I stayed to keep an eye on you."

Jarod heard footsteps crossing the carpet and raised an eyebrow. "Did you think I'd bolt while you weren't looking?"

Ann laughed. "Not exactly, but you don't have the best track record, do you?"

He grinned somewhat feebly, his drink forgotten. "Can I ask you something?"

She pulled up a chair beside the bed and sat down. "Sure."

"Who's Paul?"

Ann stiffened in her seat and stared down at him. "How did you know about...?"

"It was the last thing I heard before I fell asleep," he explained as she hesitated. "Nicole said she didn't want to talk about him."

"Jarod, I don't think..."

"Please, Ann," he urged gently. "Nicole's done a lot for me and I don't want to say something that might hurt her."

"It's not what you could say that's likely to cause her the most pain," the doctor retorted softly. "It's the way you'd say it. Not to mention what you look like."

"After saying so much, you can't leave it there." Jarod reached down for the pillow that usually sat by the head of his bed, but couldn't find it. Ann reached over to another chair in the room, seizing it and putting her arm around his shoulders. She helped him to sit up before returning to her seat.

"Paul was a close friend of Nicole's and to a lesser degree a friend of mine," Ann began. "He lived here with her and he looked very like you."

"Was?"

"He died several years ago," Ann admitted. "But he was the person who helped Nicole adjust to the changes in her life when she couldn't see. They were very close."

"Was this his room?"

"Yes." Ann leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. "It was until they got engaged. After that he slept with her. Their engagement was a fact that not many people were aware of."

The man's expression became curious, not wanting to cause his questioner pain but still feeling it important that he knew as much as she was willing to tell him about this particular subject. "They were... engaged?"

"They planned to marry some time, maybe a few months, after Nicole's accident, but then he was killed."

Jarod nodded silently, his eyes blindly staring down at the blanket, before raising his head. "How were we similar?"

Ann smiled sadly. "Just about everything - tones of voice, hand movements, hair and eye colors, the figures of speech you use..."

"So it's hard for her to have me here?" the man offered quietly as the woman stopped abruptly.

"In some ways." Ann brought her legs up, wrapping her arms around them, and rested her chin on her knees. "But..." She paused. "Jarod, I'll tell you the whole story because it'll make it easier for you to understand. No questions until I'm done, okay?"

He nodded, turning to face her as she began to speak.

"Nicole and I met in primary school. One day, she fell off the swing and hurt herself. Paul was two years older than both of us and he helped her to the school nurse. After that, he'd come to see us every couple of days. He and I were always just fairly casual friends but with them it was like they found siblings they never knew existed. They became incredibly close very quickly, but it wasn't that they were in love. It was just a very deep friendship. I think Nic even studied medicine 'cause he did. When she moved here to work, he was already living here and invited her to live with him. The hospital buzzed with rumors for about a week, until they saw them together and realized that there was no romance in the situation at all. When Nic fell down the stairs, Paul was the first person beside her and it was he who oversaw her treatment because that was his specialty. For a few weeks after that she was at a total loose end - hanging around the house and boring herself stupid. I think she said that she told you about that."

Jarod nodded wordlessly, his mind quickly presenting the scenes that she described, becoming a little frustrated when trying to imagine exactly what Nicole looked like. The soft voice continued to speak out of the darkness.

"Finally he told her off, said that she was wasting her life and he didn't want to have to put up with it. It was the only time I ever saw him angry with her, but clearly it was what she needed because she made an effort to learn Braille and do all she could to get her life back to some semblance of normality. When Paul found that she wanted to extend her medical knowledge, he helped her use resources to the best of her abilities, summarizing whole books into Braille for her. Often he'd get her to read books or notes aloud so he could be sure she understood."

Ann inhaled deeply and let out a shaky breath as the man nodded, recalling the day they had sat inside during the storm and Nicole's directions as he read. After a moment of silence, the woman continued.

"A couple of weeks after she began studying, Paul was called out to a patient. As he was leaving to come back to the hospital, a car skidded, slamming into his, and that went into a tree. Paul had internal bleeding, a fractured skull, crushed spine - yet, despite all that, he was still alive. God alone knows how. But there was nothing we could do and each of us knew it. Nic stayed beside him for the last eighteen hours of his life, unable to see him but knowing that he was happy because she was there. I think she'd have sat there forever if he'd lived for that long. But he didn't."

Jarod heard her pull something out of her pocket and he guessed she was wiping her eyes so he remained silent. When she could go on, Ann changed the subject somewhat.

"When you were brought in, I'd already paged Nic to come down because we received a warning of your injuries. If I'd seen you first, I don't think I would have called her, but by the time you got in, it was too late. Still, most of the similarities weren't so obvious until you were more alert and could speak. I happened to call on Saturday, just after you beat her at cards."

Ann saw the curiosity in his eyes and laughed, choking slightly. "She told me the game you were playing, before you ask. But it was the game that Paul taught her after she lost her vision and he often won it too. We talked about you and Nic said that in some ways it made it easier to have you here because it was like she had a chance to see Paul again. I think it's still a toss-up as to whether it's a good or a bad thing overall. It'll probably take longer before she can decide that."

"So I..." Jarod paused for a moment, his face turned to the bed, trying to work out exactly what he wanted to say. "I won't only cause her pain by being here? It might be helpful for her too?"

Ann leaned forward and covered his hand with her own. "You don't have to feel guilty about that, Jarod. If she hadn't wanted you to come back, she wouldn't have arranged it so that you could. It was solely her choice."

Jarod nodded slowly and then turned his head in her direction. "Would she have told me all of this herself?"

"I don't think so, but I'm not sure. Maybe some. Probably not everything."

"So I shouldn't change the way I behave towards her? I mean, I..."

"I know what you mean." Ann stared into the middle distance for a moment before looking back at him. "I don't think so, if you could avoid it. Firstly, as I said before, it's a form of comfort to her that you're the way you are - being so much like him. And second," she laughed suddenly, "it'd let her know you knew and I've copped enough for that kind of thing from her recently."

Jarod raised an eyebrow. "In what way?"

Ann grinned. "I mentioned to one person that you were going to stay with her. Unfortunately, I told the biggest gossip in the whole hospital and, as everyone was denied the nice little romance they all imagined when Nic moved in with Paul, I think lots of people have thought one up between the two of you. You've got to understand: Nicole's been very cautious around people, and particularly men, ever since Paul died. I think you kind of caught her off guard."

He smiled. "I'm good at that."

"So it would seem." Ann looked at her watch and stood up, trying to hide a grin. "Meanwhile, we need to stop this conversation."

Jarod raised an eyebrow. "For?"

"I think you can guess."

He rolled his eyes and threw his hands into the air. "Doctors!"

"Patients!" She laughed, walking over to the table, where she took the bubble sheet out of the top drawer. "But you can be happy about one thing - it's in tablet form."

"Well, let's all be grateful for small mercies then," he muttered.

"Complaining again, Jarod?"

Ann looked up to find her friend standing in the doorway, a basket on her arm and a smile on her face, and grinned. "He hasn't complained for the last half hour."

"Hey, a new record!" She laughed and put the things she was carrying down on the floor outside the door before coming in. "And there's a second benefit, Jarod. Those aren't quite as potent as what you had in hospital. You'll be awake in a few hours and I might have had a chance to make something decent for dinner in that time."

"Remind me," he retorted wryly. "What's dinner again?"

Ann laughed and walked over to place the tablets in his waiting hand. "There's a cup of water on your bedside table."

"Where?"

Ann glanced over at Nicole with her eyebrows raised. "I don't..."

"Six o'clock, Jarod."

He picked up the cup, swallowed the tablets and then leaned forward so Ann could ease the extra pillow out from behind his head. Nicole picked up her things and headed down the hallway.

Ann spoke so that only he could hear her. "Don't forget, Jarod. Not a word."

He nodded. "I promise." Ann placed one hand on his for a moment and then also left the room.

"How did your tiny wreck of a car manage to carry all this lot home?" the blond woman queried as she walked into the kitchen and eyed the laden bench.

"With difficulty," Nicole told her. "I wasn't sure it would make it up the last hill."

Ann laughed and walked over to the basket, picking up several of the books from it and looking at them. "Did you get anything for sighted people?"

"Nope. Why bother? We can both read Braille."

"And what's this?"

Nicole looked at a package Ann was holding up. "Spoken book. I used them a fair bit and thought Jarod might enjoy them as well."

"Very considerate," the woman retorted drily.

Her friend leaned against the bench and laughingly glared at her. "Are you trying to suggest that I only think about myself?"

"Well, I don't see anything in this bundle for me!"

Nicole reached into a shopping bag she was emptying and tossed a small package of chocolate-covered peanuts in her friend's direction. "That might keep you going tonight."

"Great. Now I feel guilty."

"Completely intentional, I assure you." She grinned and looked at the clock on the wall. "Don't feel like I'm throwing you out or anything..."

"...but I only have twenty minutes to get to work." Ann grabbed her bag from the bench, gave her friend a quick hug and then ran out of the house. Nicole followed her down the hall and locked the door, which had slammed shut.

"Is there an earthquake?"

Jarod's voice was drowsy and she walked into the room to stand next to the bed. "It was just Ann running late, as usual. What are you still doing awake?"

"I wasn't awake, before," he told her sleepily.

She pulled the blankets more closely around him. "Is the room warm enough?"

He nodded languidly.

"Call me if you want anything."

"Mmm hmm." His eyes closed and she turned away, shutting the door behind her as she left.

 

* * *

"Hungry?"

He turned his head eagerly as Nicole's voice came from the doorway, a light of amusement in his eyes, hearing his stomach growl. "How many adjectives would you like?"

She laughed and walked into the room. Jarod heard her place something on a table in the corner before she came over to the bed. After piling the pillows behind his head, she helped him to sit up and checked that the covers weren't lying on his shin. She picked up the tray and put it on his lap, unfolding the short legs so that they rested firmly on the mattress and lastly put a half-full glass on the bedside table, setting the capped bottle beside it.

"Roast chicken at twelve o'clock: no bones, roast potatoes at two, roast pumpkin at four, steamed beans between six and eight and roast carrot between nine and eleven. Stuffing in the middle of the plate. Dr. Pepper at six on the table."

Jarod arched an eyebrow, turning his face in her direction. "Slaving over a hot stove?"

She laughed, pulling a small folding table close to her. "Just so you'd notice. I wanted to come up with something that wouldn't be too messy or hard to eat and it seemed like a good alternative."

He eagerly picked up his cutlery. "I think you succeeded."

"There's not much of anything. I know you've been eating in the hospital, but that was never very much either. If you're still hungry then you can have seconds, but I thought a small amount would be better to start off with."

Jarod nodded as he swallowed his first mouthful and smiled. "You said you wanted expert tuition. I don't know why."

"Is that intended to be sarcasm?" Nicole asked wryly.

"No!" His denial was full of force. "I mean it!"

She laughed. "I can do plain stuff, but nothing fancy."

"And you do it well," he assured her.

"When you're able to get out of bed, I'll look forward to something more fancy. You can do quite a lot from a wheelchair."

He choked on the first mouthful of his drink. "A what?"

Nicole rolled her eyes, despite knowing he wouldn't see it, her voice also revealing her frustration. "Would the doctor in you please recognize that you've had an open reduction and internal fixation with tibial intra-medullary rod inserted? In basic English in case you haven't read up on that one, cut into, opened up and fiddled around with, as well as making you extremely popular with metal detectors for the rest of your life. If you were the surgeon, what directions would you give to your patient?"

Jarod nodded slowly. "Bed for about a week and then up - "

Nicole raised an amused eyebrow as he hesitated. "Yes?"

"In a wheelchair," he finished glumly. "Or maybe crutches."

She could hear the grudging admission as well as the hopeful hint in his tone and laughed. "We'll see. So do I get a better-behaved patient now?"

"I guess so." He paused to eat another mouthful. Then he lifted his head again, a grin on his face. "And what will you do while I'm preparing some fancy meal?"

She smiled. "Isn't it obvious? Watch and learn from the expert!"

Darkness Series
Part 5: Out of the Darkness...

 

Nicole picked up the two plates and carried them into the kitchen as Jarod resettled himself, an expectant look on his face.

"What did you make for dessert?"

"Oh, I thought we'd go without tonight." Nicole glanced over her shoulder to see the horrified look on his face and laughed. "Okay, I'm kidding. Be patient, Jarod."

"I'm not a patient person," he reminded her.

"Like the last six days hadn't shown me that if I hadn't figured it out already. 'Can I get out of bed? Can't I stop taking the painkillers? Can I try to walk today? Can't I get out of this stupid wheelchair yet?' You, impatient? I never would have guessed!"

Jarod rolled his eyes. "Sarcasm doesn't become you."

"It doesn't become you, either," she told him tartly. "But I've never noticed that fact stopping you."

He laughed, listening to her walk back through the doorway. "But I only had five years to practice. Sydney didn't ever really appreciate it that much."

She raised an eyebrow. "And you think I do?"

"Well, I was hoping..."

Nicole smiled and placed a bowl on the folding table in front of him, seeing Jarod carefully feel for the bowl and spoon. When he knew where the objects were located, he raised his head, listening to her take her usual seat opposite him, his expression curious.

"What is it?"

"Something my mother used to make. I hunted out the recipe."

He took a cautious taste and grinned. "I like it. What is it?"

"A trifle."

"It might be a trifle but I'd still like to know what it is."

She laughed. "No, Jarod. It's called trifle. Nice wordplay, though."

He grinned again as he took a second mouthful.

 

* * *

Jarod settled into the armchair, holding a glass. "What are we doing tonight?"

"What did you have in mind?" Nicole queried.

"Cards?" he offered, trying to suppress a grin and failing miserably.

"I've told you, no way," she replied quickly. "You've asked every single night since you got up and I'm not being beaten again, especially not by you."

"How about me?"

Both occupants looked up and Nicole announced the newcomer's identity to Jarod, although he had already recognized the voice.

"Ann! What are you doing here?"

"Oh, I just thought I'd drop by and check that you two hadn't bored each other to death. And you left the front door open."

"In other words," Nicole rolled her eyes, "Roger's working tonight and you were bored."

"Right," her friend admitted with a laugh. Ann walked over to sit beside Jarod. "Haven't knocked yourself out again, Mystery Man?"

He laughed. "No, but life's been getting a little tedious recently and I could do with some action."

"God, don't suggest it!" Nicole put a bowl in front of Ann and handed her a spoon. "I can't afford to have to throw away another towel."

Ann looked up. "Is this your culinary expertise or his?"

"Mine, and no nasty comments, if you please."

"As if..."

"You would and you know it. I'm just forestalling you."

"You're far too good at that."

"I'll say," Jarod grinned.

Nicole stood up and placed both hands on her hips. "If you two are going to gang up on me then I'll find myself a quiet bar somewhere and drink the night away."

"There's always a first time for everything, right?" her friend suggested, laughing.

She laughed and sat down again. "Well, maybe."

 

* * *

Nicole flicked off the television and watched the room's two occupants finish their current round with a pack of cards that had both Braille and picture symbols.

"Who's winning?"

"Jarod..." Ann told her as the man tried to conceal a smirk.

"I could have told you that would happen," her friend interrupted.

"...but not by much."

"Well that's something. You might want to check that he isn't just feeling sorry for you though."

Ann narrowed her eyes as she turned to her opponent. "Are you?"

Jarod stayed silent and shuffled the cards, unable to prevent a small smile from appearing on his face.

"He is," Nicole laughed. "He looked the same way when he let me win that game that I did. That's why I won't play with him again."

Ann got up from her chair. "Neither will I."

"Oh, come on." Jarod's voice took on a note of persuasion. "I thought it was a nice thing to do."

"It isn't, Jarod," Nicole told him. "Most people like to win outright if they manage to win at all. They don't like pity."

"Nor do I." His voice was low. "But I don't seem able to avoid it at the moment."

"Your attitude will be what determines the way people react to you, Jarod. If you encourage them to feel sorry for you, they will. But I think you know that already."

"I've told it to plenty of people, but I never thought it would apply to me too," he told her quietly.

"Life's full of surprises," Nicole responded quickly.

"I'd noticed that." Jarod's eyes were fixed blindly on the floor and the women in the room watched him silently. Finally he sat back and squared his shoulders. "Well, I suppose if people are going to treat me that way, then I have to act in a way that won't encourage them to do it."

"It's certainly a good start."

He could hear the smile in Nicole's voice and smiled in response.

 

* * *

"He said the same thing to her, didn't he?"

Ann nodded, listening to the sound of the shower running. "Yes, he did. It was all a part of that big discussion cum argument I told you about."

"I thought so." Jarod leaned forward, picking up his glass. He was about to speak again when the sound of the water stopped. Grinning, he turned to Ann. "How about if we play cards again so she doesn't know what we were talking about?"

Ann rolled her eyes. "You're just determined to beat me."

"That could be it." He laughed. "Oh, come on. I'll play fair and we'll see."

"All right, but I get to pick the game."

Jarod nodded in agreement and bent down to pick up the square box.

"Hey, no way!" Ann shrieked in dismay. "That's the deck without pictures!"

He grinned as she took them out of his hand and put them down on the table, picking up the other pack.

"So what are we playing?"

"Snap?" the woman proposed with mock-sincerity.

Jarod smiled. "I think that's a little unfair, don't you?"

"Well, maybe." She grinned. "But only if I'm feeling sorry for you."

He picked up a cushion and, with a laugh, tossed it in the direction from which he could hear her voice coming. "Right! That's it! No more Mr. Nice Invalid!"

 

* * *

"How much did you have to pay her to get her to play cards with you?"

"The promise that I'd play fair," Jarod told the doctor with a grin as she came in.

"Wow!" Nicole sat down and began to rub her hair dry. "She's nicer than I am."

"I'm not expected to comment on that, right?" the man suggested.

"Not if you know what's good for you."

Jarod laughed and concentrated again but his lapse meant that he put down the wrong card and Ann, with a triumphant laugh, claimed the game.

"Finally!"

"I guess I can't blame Nicole for that?" Jarod proposed hopefully.

"Nope. All she did was talk and if you can't do two things at once..."

"Now come on, Ann, be fair," Nicole smiled. "He's just a man. Of course he can only do one thing at a time."

"Hey, that's not at all kind!"

Had his leg been better, Jarod would have bounded to his feet indignantly. Being denied that, he folded his arms and muttered under his breath, glaring at the floor.

"Oh boy." Nicole rolled her eyes. "Now I'm in trouble."

"I should leave while the going's good," Ann suggested.

"Want to take me with you? He might sneak into my room and murder me in the dead of night."

"How? You'd hear him as he crashed to the floor," Ann giggled as she put on her coat, watching a smile that was hovering at the corners of Jarod's mouth although he was struggling to hide it.

"Well, if you don't hear from me for a couple of days, find somewhere nice to bury me, will you?"

Ann laughed. "Sure thing. But for now I'm escaping before he gets any angrier."

"Lucky you."

Nicole followed her friend down the hallway, locking the door behind her. Returning to the living room, she found Jarod gathering up the cards and putting them back in the box. She sat down opposite him.

"Still offended?"

"Oh, of course." He grinned. "You mean you can't tell?"

"Just wanted to be sure." She glanced down at her watch. "I was thinking I might head off to bed. Can you manage on your own out here or...?"

"I'll be fine," Jarod told her firmly. "I managed yesterday."

"Okay, as long as you're sure." She picked up her glass from the table. "Good night, Jarod."

"Goodnight." He smiled in her direction. "Sleep well."

 

* * *

Jarod awoke with a jump to hear sounds from the kitchen, turning his head in that direction. "Nicole? Is that you?"

"Who else would it be?" retorted tart tones from the other room. "Do you think I was being burgled under your nose?"

He flipped up the cover of his watch, about to feel the time when she entered the room.

"When I asked if you could manage, I didn't mean that you had to sleep out here if you couldn't." She reached forward and placed a hand on his as he shivered slightly. "Or were you just wanting to get sick again?"

"Not if I could help it," he replied truthfully. "To be honest, I don't even remember falling asleep."

Nicole reached over and grabbed the blanket, tucking it in around his legs. "Obviously losing that game to Ann was so humiliating that you didn't feel like you deserved to sleep in a bed again."

He laughed, wrapping both hands around the mug she gave him. "Possible, I guess." Listening to the sounds she was making and not able to identify them, Jarod's brow furrowed. "What are you doing?"

"Lighting a fire," she told him as the kindling ignited.

Jarod raised an eyebrow. "In September?"

"I guess you don't realize how cold it got last night. This room's like the inside of an icebox. We'll have to hope that nothing bad comes of it."

He didn't need to ask her what she was worried about and the thought of getting an illness wasn't exactly appealing to him either. He heard her leave the room and return several moments later.

"Give me that mug for a moment."

She took it from him and he heard it being placed on the table.

"Can you lean forward a little?"

The down comforter being wrapped around his shoulders induced another shiver as she draped it over him. She replaced the mug in his hands and bent down to ease off the slippers that he wore inside, placing his feet on a hot water bottle before covering them with a corner of the blanket.

"What are you trying to do - make me cook?" he protested indignantly.

"If it warms you up faster, yes." She sat down on the sofa facing him. "I would've suggested a hot shower but the bathroom's still cold. Once it heats up, though, I'll have you in there so fast your head will be spinning."

Jarod grinned, using one hand to pull the blanket more closely around himself, appreciating a feeling of warmth, as he sipped at the hot chocolate in the mug. "I won't complain."

He could hear the amusement in her voice as she replied. "Well, that makes a nice change."

"What time is it?"

"Quarter after seven."

"Isn't that a little early for you to be up?" he asked. "I mean, especially being on vacation..."

"You make it sound like I lounge around doing nothing until midday!"

"That wasn't quite what I had in mind..." Jarod trailed off, suddenly knowing exactly why she was awake and mentally kicking himself for not realizing before he asked the question.

There was a pause.

"I couldn't sleep. I've been awake since six. If I'd known you were still up I would have come out a lot sooner." He heard her standing up. "I'm going to find out what state that bathroom's in."

Nicole left the room abruptly and Jarod could tell that she was trying to avoid any questions he might ask her. Not that he would. He knew who she'd been thinking about.

 

* * *

Jarod could hear the crackle of burning wood as he entered the living room and, after feeling the chair, sat down, placing the crutches on either side so they were easily accessible.

"Better?" asked an amused voice to his right.

He ran a hand through his damp hair and laughed. "Cleaner. And warmer."

"And you're stupid enough to leave the room with your hair wet?" Nicole walked into the bathroom and returned with a towel, which she threw at him. "Some genius! This room's warm, but not that warm. Get busy."

"Yes, ma'am." Jarod started to scrub his hair vigorously and Nicole shrieked as cold droplets flew through the air.

"That's freezing! You could at least wait until I move away."

"Do this, do that, or do the other thing. Can't you ever make up your mind?" Jarod grinned in her direction, his hands not ceasing in their movements.

"You're asking for trouble today, aren't you?"

"Not intentionally," he admitted. "But it seems like it, yes."

"I should turn you out on the streets to beg," Nicole snorted as she sat in a chair on the other side of the room.

"And then I could come back and keep you up all night with pneumonia," he retorted.

"If you were welcome back," she told him.

His eyes opened wide in mock-astonishment. "I wouldn't be?"

"Do you deserve to be?" she queried.

Jarod lowered the towel and spoke sweetly. "I always deserve the best treatment because I never put up with any other."

For a second, she was speechless, before she saw a smile he fought to keep away from his face and laughed. "You're in for it now! And I've got the whole day to think up some wonderful form of revenge."

"Oh boy. Now I'm really in trouble. I should've been the one asking Ann for help last night." Jarod grinned and then reached out a hand for the book he knew was on the table in front of him. "Well, I guess all I can do is wait."

 

* * *

Nicole stood in the doorway and watched as he carefully slid into bed.

"Okay?"

"Fine, thanks." Jarod settled back against the pillows and picked up his book. "You honestly don't trust me tonight, do you?"

"Not really. I think we can do without you spending another night in the freezing cold living room."

"Hey, I didn't get anything as a result of it."

"Not yet, anyway." Nicole went over to check that the radiator in the corner was still throwing out warmth.

"I'll overheat!" he protested mildly.

"Unlikely." She stopped beside the bed and looked down at him. "I'll come in to check on you now and then. If you're too hot, I'll turn down the heater or take off a blanket or two. Okay?"

Jarod nodded. "Just so you know, though, I don't get sick that easily."

"You probably don't break a leg that easily with all the ice-cream you eat either, but you've done that twice within the last two weeks."

He grinned. "Okay, you win. I'll call if I need you."

The man felt her hand gently touch his shoulder, her voice soft. "You do that, Jarod."

 

* * *

She got up several hours later and slipped across the hallway to his room to find him lying on his side, one arm flung out and the other tucked in behind his head. With a smile, she went over and touched his cheek to find that it was comfortably but not excessively warm.

"You don't even sleep like a normal person. You know that, don't you?"

He opened his eyes and rolled onto his back. "How did you know I was awake?"

"Do you remember what I said to you on the first day that you were in hospital?"

"I had forgotten, but I remember now." He pulled himself up in bed, groaning slightly as he felt the muscles in his back tighten.

"Where do you think you're going?" a laughing voice asked from his right.

"What, a stroll around the block right now doesn't sound like a good idea?" he asked, grinning.

She laughed, sitting on the bed beside him. "The only thing that sounds like a good idea now is a few more hours' sleep."

"So go back to bed. I'm okay." Jarod reached out, his right hand making tentative contact with the side of her face. "You're worrying about me too much."

She recovered from the shock his action caused to reply to his comment in a caustic tone. "That's only because you don't worry about yourself enough."

"I've done fine for five years," he told her firmly.

"Until the last few weeks, perhaps," she admitted.

His expression became serious. "That may be true. But it's not a thing I'm used to, so you'll have to forgive me if I think that it's a little weird."

"I'm sure your mother's been worrying about you for forty years," Nicole stated softly.

He paused. "She has reason to."

"And when you're living under my roof, that gives me reason to as well." Nicole gently reached up and took hold of his hand, removing it from her cheek and, with a slight squeeze, placing it on his stomach. "Sleep well, Jarod."

 

* * *

Jarod lay still, face turned to the ceiling, thinking about whether he had done the right thing. It had seemed instinctive and the fact that he had actually made contact with her face the way he meant to, rather than missing which he had been afraid of for a moment, seemed like a good omen. And then she hadn't backed away or avoided his touch, which he'd also thought possible. Now he was listening to try and hear what her response was, but he couldn't hear anything, although he hadn't heard her shut the door of either her room or his own. He would, Jarod thought suddenly, like the chance to see her with other patients to see if the way she treated him was different from the way she was with other people, but that was, for more than one reason, impossible. He sighed, rolling onto his side, wincing slightly as his leg throbbed, but the ache was bearable and he could ignore it.

 

* * *

Nicole lay on her bed, wide-eyed and staring at the ceiling, her hands linked behind her head, still trying to get over the shock of what had happened. It wasn't as if she hadn't been able to guess what he wanted to do. It had been completely subconscious, but she had even leaned in towards him so that his hand would make contact with her face. And she hadn't even breathed as he did it and it was for this that she was despising herself now. It wasn't only that it felt like being unfaithful to Paul, but...

She sat up in bed, staring at his photograph. Reaching out, she opened the drawer of her bedside table, extracting an envelope. It was his last letter and she had been given it with his will, when he had left her his share of their house, and all of his other personal papers. Nicole opened it, taking out the pages, so much reading having made them soft enough that there was barely a sound as she unfolded them. Her fingertips searched the sheets and scanned the familiar sentences for the one paragraph that she usually tried to avoid. There it was.

'You have to love again after I'm gone. It's going to be hard, Nic, but you'll have to make an effort. No matter if it's five months or fifty years later, somebody else will come into your life and want to love you. I don't want to stand between you and a chance at happiness. I know you love me. You don't need to prove it by turning away if somebody offers you his heart. And I'll know. Somehow, I will know when it happens. And you won't be betraying me if you ever do fall in love again. It will only mean I taught you well.'

Hot tears flowed down her cheeks as she read and reread that paragraph, her heart aching, and a feeling like a weight settled on her chest as she refolded the thick pages and, sliding them back in the envelope, returned it to the drawer. Looking at his photograph on the shelf, she took up the pillow he had slept on and wrapped her arms around it, burying her face in it and letting the silent tears soak through the cover. That was it. She was falling in love with Jarod and she couldn't bear the thought of seeming to be disloyal to Paul. But he told her that it wouldn't be disloyalty. One of the last things he had said to her was that she had to get on with her life, even though it would be hard. Suddenly it hit her that by not doing so she had been betraying him even more. The pain in her chest expanded and she finally began to sob.

* * *

Jarod heard the sound and sat up, easing his leg out from under the blankets. He carefully stood, using the crutches to make his way over the hall, and he could tell that the door of her room was open.

"Nicole? Are you all right?"

She looked up to find him standing in the doorway, an expression of concern on his face, and she quickly wiped the tears away as if he could see them. "Do you want the truth or a brave lie?"

He smiled gently. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. You didn't do anything."

Cautiously he came into the room and Nicole put out a hand to steer him around the corner of the mattress. He sat and faced her, his sightless eyes somehow exactly meeting her gaze.

"Are you sure?" he asked hesitantly. "I wouldn't want..."

"It wasn't you, Jarod," Nicole told him.

He couldn't help raising an eyebrow. "So it was you."

"Yes," she admitted softly. "It probably was."

Jarod stretched out his hand and placed it, with unerring aim, on hers. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not right now."

He tilted his head slightly to one side, his expression curious. "And not to me, right?"

She shrugged, forgetting that he couldn't see it. "I don't know."

"It always helps to talk to someone."

"Hey, that's supposed to be my line!" she protested indignantly.

He smiled. "Right now, I could probably use a few of them. Get some sleep. Just relax. Try not to worry. Need I go on?"

"Not really, no. I get the idea." Nicole smiled weakly. "But unless you go back to your room soon, I might use them, too."

Jarod laughed. "I'm going, I'm going." Standing, he put the crutches under his arms and, avoiding the mattress, reached the doorway before he stopped again. "But if I think it's necessary, I'll come back."

"I consider myself warned," she smiled. "And if you aren't in bed in five minutes then you ought to consider yourself warned as well."

He smiled over his shoulder at her before going into his room.

 

* * *

Nicole came out of her room later that morning to find the hallway full of the scent of delicious and savory cooking. She walked into the kitchen to find Jarod stirring something on the stove, leaning on his crutches, and stared at him for a moment in astonishment before she could speak.

"What on earth...?"

"Good morning." He turned to smile at her, his hand never ceasing to stir. "How did you sleep?"

"Jarod, what are you doing?"

He laughed. "I thought I was the blind one. What does it look like?"

"Cooking breakfast?" She walked over to sit on the bench-top out of his way, a glance sufficient to show her the bacon sizzling in the pan and small rolls turning golden-brown in the oven.

"Very good," he told her in patronizing tones, with a grin.

Jarod picked up a glass of orange juice, handing it to her. As she took the first sip he removed the pan from the stove and turned off the hotplate, his other hand giving the saucepan several more careful whisks before he also moved that off the heat. Shifting slightly to one side, he slid on oven gloves and removed the trays, allowing the rolls to tumble into a basket. He took out a few plates, onto two of which he placed the scrambled eggs and the bacon, before turning to her.

"Breakfast is served. Kind of."

She laughed. "Should I give you hand in carrying it to the table?"

"Unless you want to see all my hard work on the floor, it might be better." Placing the plates back on the bench, he reached up to turn off the oven, leaving the door open to cool, while he followed her out of the room.

 

* * *

"Okay, you were right," she told him as she brushed the breadcrumbs off her fingertips.

He turned his face in her direction, a mystified expression in his eyes. "About?"

"Your cooking abilities. You're much better than me."

"Hey, you were the person who said I was an expert." He took one of the last cinnamon rolls from the basket, splitting it open and spreading a thin layer of butter on the steaming surfaces, trying to conceal a smirk. "I just didn't dispute the fact."

"Did you burn yourself much?"

"Nope, not at all."

"Now that's unfair!" She grinned. "I did when I first cooked."

"It was probably just luck," he hazarded.

"And good management as well as ability. I've never had such good tasting scrambled eggs, and the rolls were fantastic."

"If slightly unexpected, right? I heard you gasp when you opened them to see the insides."

"And that reminds me," she stated, narrowing her eyes as Jarod took the first bite. "When did you get the chance to prepare it all?"

He grinned, chewed, swallowed, but didn't comment, hearing her fingers drum on the tabletop.

"I'm waiting."

Jarod laughed. "I'm starting to think my personality flaws must be contagious. Aren't I supposed to be the impatient one?"

"All I'm doing is demanding an answer," she retorted, trying not to grin.

"Mmm, yes, I noticed that."

He rested his head on one hand and turned his face to hers with such a look of innocence that it was difficult for her to restrain her laughter.

"Jarod, are you going to tell me," she demanded as an idea struck her, "or shall I tell you?"

"Go ahead," he grinned. "It could be entertaining."

"Well, I suspect that, after our discussion last night, you didn't go back to bed at all but stayed in your room until you thought I'd be asleep and then came out, mixed the dough and left it to rise. Five hours later, you got up to prepare everything." She sat back in her chair. "So how'd I do?"

"Close," he told her. "But not quite."

"In what way?"

"First, I did go back to bed. Briefly. After all your threats," he teased, "I'd have been stupid not to, wouldn't I? Then I came up with the idea, got up again, stood just inside my door until I could hear that you were asleep and came out. From then on, you were right." He smiled and ate the last bit of his roll with an expression of infuriating calm on his face. "Oh, and you can add the fact that, if you hadn't woken up in time, I'd have brought breakfast in to you."

"How?" Nicole grinned. "How would you have managed?"

"I hadn't thought that far ahead yet, but I would have managed it somehow," he told her firmly. "I can always find a way."

 

* * *

"Mmm, what smells good?"

"Breakfast, but you're too late to partake." Nicole looked up from the newspaper as Ann entered the living room. "Did I leave the front door open again?"

"Mystery Man knew I was coming and opened it for me. He's getting dressed." Ann looked at the remains of the meal that were still spread all over the table. "Did you come into a fortune and hire a chef or something?"

Nicole laughed. "No, Jarod cooked this morning."

"I should borrow him for a day."

"Sorry, no deal," the man stated as he came into the room. "No accommodation, no cooking."

"Aw, geez," Ann groaned. "Some people have all the luck." She reached over to take the last roll out of the basket, breaking it open and inhaling the fragrance. "Cinnamon flavored bread? That's just torture!"

Jarod laughed as he sat down. "I'll give you the recipe. Of course it'll be in Braille, but that's your problem, not mine."

"Thanks." Ann swatted him with a cushion. "You're so accommodating."

"I aim to please." He stood up, bowed and sat down again. Nicole laughed before looking at her friend.

"I don't want to be uncivil or anything, but what are you doing here?"

"Yesterday I offered to take Jarod to the library so he could get out of the house for a while."

"Is he going to clean the kitchen first?"

Jarod laughed at her tone. "I already did that while you were getting dressed. I just left the dishes on the table because I didn't know how you stack your dishwasher, but otherwise it's clean."

"And how did you sweep the floor?"

"I found the broom, of course."

"And picking up the dust?"

Caught out, he grinned and didn't answer. Ann glanced from him to Nicole.

"What's that look mean?"

"It means he did something he's not meant to do, but he isn't going to admit it, which in this case would have been bending down, despite the fact that he was given explicit orders not to do so by Phillip Barnard." Nicole rolled her eyes. "You see what I have to put up with."

"Hmm, yes." Ann nodded in mock understanding. "A gourmet breakfast, a man who knows how to clean up the kitchen when he's done with it - I can see how you're suffering."

Jarod laughed. "Could we all please stop talking about me like I'm not here? Ann, I'm ready to go whenever you are if Nicole will let me borrow her library card."

Nicole reached over and grabbed her purse, pulling out the card and placing it in his outstretched hand. "You should get your own."

"I would, but I have to get some identification first."

"True."

He put a hand on the large stack of books on the table. "Can I take any of these back?"

"You've read them all?"

"Yup. You?"

Nicole rolled her eyes. "I don't speed-read - my apologies."

Jarod laughed and stood up, slipping the crutches under his arms.

 

* * *

"I'll leave you there for a few hours."

Jarod stared sightlessly through the windscreen. "Then go and talk to Nicole."

"Why?" Ann glanced at him sharply. "What about?"

"Something... happened last night and she won't talk to me about it, but I'm sure it had to do with Paul - and me."

The woman eyed him suspiciously. "You didn't kiss her, did you?"

Jarod grinned weakly. "No, not exactly."

"What do you mean by that?"

He described the scene in his room and hers, by the end of which Ann had parked the car in front of the library and was watching him.

"Tell her that, if it's too hard for her, I'll find somewhere else to stay," he finished.

Ann raised an eyebrow. "Isn't that a little needlessly self-sacrificial?"

He shrugged. "Maybe. But I'd do it if I had to."

A question leapt to the tip of her tongue but she restrained herself and asked something else. "Do you want me to tell you what she says?"

"Not if it's too personal - or if she tells you not to. If I need to know about it then I'm sure she'll tell me eventually."

"Wow, a man without curiosity. What a rarity."

He smiled. "I didn't say I wasn't curious - more that I don't want you to betray her confidence. At least," Jarod couldn't help adding, "not any more than you already have done."

She grinned. "Okay, enough insults already. Let's get you inside and then I'll go talk to her."

 

* * *

Ann let herself into the house using the key that Nicole had given Jarod, stopping in the doorway of the bedroom. She saw her friend lying on her bed, running her hand over a very familiar letter.

"Nic? Are you okay?"

Nicole rolled over to stare at her friend. "What are you, Houdini?"

Laughing, Ann held up the key and then put it back into her pocket before going over to sit beside the other woman.

"What happened last night?"

"What did he tell you?"

Ann raised her eyebrows. "Why do you think he told me anything?"

"Because I know that I didn't."

The blond woman nodded in agreement. "He told me his point of view. Now you tell me yours."

Nicole shrugged. "I wouldn't know where to start."

"You're in love with him, aren't you?"

"That wasn't quite where I was going to begin," Nicole replied tartly.

"But?" Ann prodded.

"But - yes."

Nicole got off the bed and began to pace the length of the room, her eyes slowly filling with tears, which rolled down her cheeks and dripped onto the floor. Finally she stopped and looked at Ann.

"Yes. I am in love with him - and I don't know what to do."

Darkness Series
Part 6: ...A Light At The End...

"You don't know what to do?" Ann demanded in disbelief. "You tell him, that's what you do."

"No!" Nicole's voice held a note of panic. "I can't!"

"Why not?"

"Because I can't... I can't be in love with him..."

"...because of Paul," Ann finished for her.

Nicole nodded slowly. "I can't do this again. I can't let someone else inside me like that. It hurt too much, when he died, and - "

"And why does it have to happen again?" her friend queried calmly.

"It... it doesn't." She stopped. "But it might! Ann, I can't go through that again!"

"But you already have. You've gone through most of it with everything Jarod's gone through in the last few weeks. And that's what caused these feelings in the first place."

"I know." Her voice was low and Nicole sank down onto the bed, feeling that her legs weren't able to hold her up anymore.

"So what makes you think you can just throw those feelings away now?" Ann continued. "It's been four years since Paul died and you're still desperately hanging on to everything you felt for him. If you forced Jarod away, or if he left, all you'd do is transfer what you feel for him onto what you felt for Paul and it'd be like he'd died all over again."

Nicole looked up, her lips twisted into a half-smile. "I didn't know psychiatry was your specialty."

"It's not." Ann smiled. "But you are."

 

* * *

Nicole stared blankly out of the living-room window until Ann walked over and pushed a mug into her hands, taking a seat opposite and speaking quietly.

"Paul was right. You do have to get on with your life."

"I should have done it a long time ago."

"You weren't ready 'a long time ago'. I don't think you were ready until now. It's been kind of like a security blanket, but now something's come along to replace it."

"Don't say that!"

"Say what? That the things you feel for Jarod will replace the negative emotions you've felt since Paul's death?"

"They weren't... all negative," the woman choked out.

"Nic, it's been four years and there are times when you act like it was only last week. You've shut yourself away from people, and particularly men, ever since it happened, and lived like a nun in a cloister. Paul would have hated to see you do that."

"I know." Her voice was soft. "I thought that almost every day, but somehow I couldn't change it."

"And now some tall, dark, handsome and otherwise totally non-cliched stranger comes along and offers you the chance to break away from all of that, and you'd knock it back for a chance to keep living like a hermit?"

"He's not giving me any chances," Nicole muttered.

"Only because you haven't asked. And you won't know until you do."

"He doesn't even know what I look like."

"So much the better. If he ever gets his sight back, he can fall in love with you all over again."

"Is he... in love with me?"

Ann shrugged. "I can't say for sure. But as much as he loves me, Roger never made a gourmet breakfast for me. Not even on the morning after we first slept together."

Nicole smiled faintly. "But then Roger was never the greatest cook."

"And Jarod is. That roll was great."

"So the guy can bake a good loaf." Nicole shrugged. "That doesn't mean he loves me."

"If he didn't, would he have come back? And would he still be here? Somebody who settles down somewhere doesn't live out of a bag. I saw what he carried around with him too, and everything he owns was in those things."

"And, if he left again... if he left me..."

"He wouldn't do that if he was truly in love with you. Besides, you got rid of his reason for running. It's just another reason for him to attach himself to you. And I think he has."

Nicole closed her eyes, wrapping her hands more firmly around the hot mug and willing the tears away. Suddenly she glanced sharply at her friend. "Jarod knows about Paul, doesn't he?"

Ann nodded reluctantly, wishing Nicole wasn't so quick at picking up small details. "He overheard you mention the name after you brought him back from the hospital the second time and asked me while you were out."

"And you just - told him?"

"Do you want to know what he said? His words were 'Nicole's done a lot for me and I don't want to say something that might hurt her'. Now correct me if I'm wrong here, but that sounds a heck of a lot like concern to me."

"You told him... everything?"

"Would you rather he had to ask you?" Ann returned pointedly.

Nicole paused. "When... Paul was brought into the hospital - do you remember?"

"Probably not as clearly as you do. I was horrendously busy because of a bus crash at the same time, much as I wanted to stay with you. Tell me."

"So it'd be easier for him while they made certain there was nothing they could do, they knocked him out and kept him on painkillers for the first couple of hours, until he finally refused to have any more. But..."

Her voice broke and she swallowed hard before looking up at her friend.

"When he came around from the first shot, Paul put his hand in mine and begged me to take him home. He sounded about six. And when I tried to leave the room so Phil could check him over, he cried like a baby who was scared of the dark." She closed her eyes briefly. "The day when Jarod was playing his 'I don't need medication' game, I got home late. But I couldn't sleep. I just kept on thinking about him. Finally I rang the ward."

"To check how he was doing?"

"That was what I told myself. Now, I can almost believe that it was just because I wanted to hear his voice."

Ann smiled but said nothing.

"That voice - his tones and what he said - was word for word what Paul had said that day: 'When can I come home?' I came so close to breaking down then and there." Nicole's voice shook. "And every time when he talked like that, it was almost always exactly what Paul had said and I felt like - I know how crazy this sounds, but it's true - I felt like he'd come back and was punishing me for forgetting him and not doing enough for him."

"Or else that he's telling you it's okay for you to be finally getting on with life," Ann stated softly.

Nicole looked up. "Is that how you see it?"

"Of course I do. And I don't know how you can ever feel that you didn't do enough where he was concerned. You sat beside him almost every minute, for crying out loud. Every word you said and every single thing you did was proof of how much you loved him and Paul knew that. If he hadn't, that letter would never have been written."

"You knew about that?"

Ann nodded slowly. "When you finally dropped off to sleep that night, he called me in and said he wanted to write a letter to you but, in case he didn't have the strength to finish it, could I write the end if necessary? Of course, I said yes, although I didn't have to do that, as it turned out. When it was done, Paul asked me to read through it to check that it made sense. It was hard for me, very hard - and I knew it'd be even harder for you to read. But I did what he asked, read through it, and then he wrote out the envelope. I found someone who could transcribe it, the way he wanted, and gave it to the lawyer when he came in later that day."

"I thought... he must have written it earlier."

"No." Ann shook her head. "It was within the last eight hours. And I don't know how he managed to get through it without breaking down."

"He had a lot of fortitude."

"He's not the only one."

Nicole raised an eyebrow. "I suppose you're talking about..."

"For Pete's sake, Nic, you know exactly who I'm talking about!" Ann cast a frustrated glare at her friend. "I hate it when you do that whole 'pretending not to be all that sure what I mean' thing. You did it with Paul and it will drive me completely crazy if you do with Jarod as well."

"Maybe it's just my style." A small smile curled the corners of Nicole's mouth and Ann snorted.

"You're about as subtle as a brick! Your style! Give me strength!"

 

* * *

 

She walked into the building and, after glancing at all the tables and large seats, finally found him curled up in a beanbag, his crutches and a pile of books on the floor beside him. Going over, Ann saw his fingers racing over the pages. 

"How you'll ever get out of that is anyone's guess, let alone how on earth you got down into it."

He recovered from the shock and turned his head in her direction. "It'd probably be much easier if my system wasn't being turned sour with an adrenaline rush right now."

"All right, Mr. fake-doctor, fake-demolition expert, fake-whatever else you feel like being. For that, let's see you get up unaided."

With a grin on his face, Jarod shut the book, bent his good leg under him, keeping the injured one out in front, and rolled onto his knee. Using the hand rest of his crutches, he slowly got to his feet and smirked.

"I think it was rather unkind of you not to help me. I could have hurt myself."

Ann gave him a gentle slap on the arm. "Stop making me feel nauseous." She glanced at the pile of books. "How many of these are we taking with us?"

"All of them. I've already checked them out." He put a hand into his pocket and produced a bag. "I thought we could put them in this and then..."

"I'll carry them, thanks. I don't feel like watching you overbalance."

"Well, that's very generous of you, ma'am." Jarod doffed an imaginary cap in her direction, trying to look innocent. "But how will I know where to go?"

Sitting in the car, he turned his blind eyes in her direction. "Is she okay?"

"She's the cat's mother," Ann retorted automatically.

"What?!"

The woman laughed. "When I was a girl, if I ever called someone by a personal pronoun without having named them first, my mother would always say that. It got on my nerves but unfortunately I now do it as well." Ann rolled her eyes. "It's most annoying."

"You're telling me." He grinned and then became serious. "Is Nicole all right?"

"Yes, she is. But I thought we'd give her a bit of time alone so we're going to do some shopping."

"What kind of shopping?" he asked suspiciously.

"Clothes shopping. Nic said that your all-black gear is making her feel like she's living in a funeral parlor."

Jarod laughed. "Hey, I'm dead, remember?"

"That's what I said, but she felt that wasn't a good enough excuse, so tragically we'll have to buy you a few new outfits."

He raised an eyebrow. "We'll see."

"No, I'll see. You'll do as you're told and like it."

He saluted in his best military manner. "Yes, ma'am. Who's paying for all this fancy new gear?"

"At this stage, me. But you can pay me back later."

He nodded and then turned towards the front of the car, his voice hesitant, unsure of whether he wanted to hear the answer to his question. "And... after shopping?"

"I take you home."

He turned his head sharply in her direction. "Do you mean that?"

"Yes, Jarod." She reached out and squeezed his hand. "I do."

 

* * *

 

"This is bizarre."

"Get out here and let me look at it."

He sighed and pulled the curtain aside. Ann eyed him up and down, taking in the jeans and t-shirt that showed off his arm and chest muscles strengthened by the use of his crutches, turning just in time to watch the eyes of a shop assistant standing nearby widen in appreciation.

"I like it. It suits you."

"It feels weird," he muttered.

"That's only because you're not used to it." Ann picked up another t-shirt, handing it to him. "Swap that one for this."

Jarod peeled off the t-shirt and Ann smothered a laugh as the girl almost collapsed. Looking back at him as he settled the collar in place, she nodded. "Good. We'll get both."

He raised an eyebrow. "Is that all?"

She laughed. "You wish. I have to fulfill Nicole's expectations and they're always very, very high."

He rolled his eyes. "And I have to submit, right?"

"Exactly." She took a casual shirt from a pile beside her hand, giving it to him. "It's unbuttoned."

Jarod took off the t-shirt and put it on, rapidly doing up the buttons and coming up one short at the end. "What the...?"

"It's obvious that you aren't too used to those." Ann stepped forward, unbuttoning and refastening the shirt before stepping back again. "Yes, it's very nice indeed."

"You're telling me," stated the shop assistant. The girl walked past, casting a last lingering look of admiration over her shoulder as she left the changing rooms.

Jarod raised an eyebrow. "What was that all about?"

"You had an admirer. It was most entertaining."

"I'll bet." He laughed, beginning to undo the shirt. "More?"

Ann snorted. "Do you want to know how big this pile of clothes is?"

"No." Jarod shook his head and grinned. "Not really."

 

* * *

 

He listened to her put the last bags onto the back seat of the car. "I can't believe you got the lot."

"Nor will my bank manager. And Roger will die!" She giggled as she slid in behind the wheel. "But he should be used to me spending money on clothes by now."

"I'll pay you back soon," he promised, running his hands over the jeans Ann had insisted he wear out of the building and then over the sweater that he had tied around his neck by the sleeves. "I don't know when I'll get used to this."

"It won't take long," Ann promised him. "You seem to get used to changes in life pretty fast."

He nodded. "I've had a lot to get used to."

"I believe it."

"Did she tell you everything I told her?" he queried, half-resentfully.

"As far as I know, yes. She didn't show me the DSAs, but she thought it would be a good idea for me to know in case Lyle came in with a question or two about you. But only Nicole, I, the coroner and Dr. Barnard know."

"That's more than enough," he grumbled, before abruptly turning his head to the left. "Why did Dr. Barnard have to get told?"

"Because your autopsy said that he was called in as a consultant for your spinal injuries."

Jarod thought for a moment before realization struck. "You said I had the same injuries Paul died of, didn't you?"

"Yes," she admitted. "We had such detailed records of them that it seemed the best thing to say." Ann paused. "The photos that we included in the autopsy report were of him too."

He sat silently for a moment. "Was that why she cried?"

"When?"

"I'm not exactly sure, but I have a vague memory of her standing beside my bed and crying. I felt a few tears on my hand. It was some time after the surgery."

"That's possible. But..." She paused briefly and then continued. "Jarod, I'm not going to tell you all the things we talked about, because, like you said, she'll tell you if she wants you to know. But it was hardest on her when you were fairly heavily sedated."

His expression was curious. "Why?"

"Because your voice would become childish, the way a lot of people's do, and that was also how Paul was up until only a few hours before he died."

Jarod nodded understandingly. "There were a few times that she would sound quite amused - like when I was arguing with Dr. Barnard about the I.V. for instance, and then I'd say something and it would vanish from her voice completely."

"I know it's not something you can do anything about, but you do say things very like what he did. Even after four years, that sort of thing doesn't fade. That pain."

"I know." He nodded again, abruptly, his tones curt. "I lost my brother a couple of years ago, and, although I dealt with it at the time, there are still times when it hurts a lot."

"How did he...?"

"You never met Lyle, I know, but he killed him. He was trying to kill me, but Kyle got in the way."

Ann was going to remark on the similarity of the names but, glancing at the man in the passenger seat, she saw the firm set of Jarod's jaw and rapidly changed her mind.

 

* * *

 

"Hello, we're back!"

Nicole came out onto the veranda, staring as Jarod got out of the car. "Hey Ann, I hate to mention this, but I think you brought the wrong person back with you by accident."

"It was no accident. I found this place where they offered free trade-ins..."

Jarod grinned as he reached into the car for his crutches before quickly making his way around to the rear of the vehicle. "Can I help?"

"And what? Fall over again? No. Shoo. Go away."

He sniffed in mock-indignation. "Well, I know when I'm not wanted."

"You're right," Ann told him. "You aren't. Go in and find a place for that new wardrobe of yours."

He laughed again and went into the house. Nicole watched him for a second before coming down to the car. "He's getting better on those."

"You should have seen him in the library - curled up in a bean-bag!"

Nicole snorted. "He does seem to like getting into situations that he'll have difficulty getting out of again."

"Well, I'm sure, if you keep a close enough eye on him..."

"Stop right now or I'll close the lid on your head." She glanced into the back seat, staring at all the bags. "Are you broke?"

"Almost. Luckily I got paid yesterday so there was enough money." Ann looked at her friend with a grin. "Besides, you said you wanted him to look different..."

 

* * *

 

Jarod closed the last drawer and shut the wardrobe door with a sigh.

"Was that exhaustion?" Nicole's voice asked from the doorway.

"Regret." He laughed somewhat ruefully. "I'll kind of miss being able to fade away like a phantom in the night."

"Would you want to?"

He caught the change of tone in her voice and turned his head sharply toward her. "Not anymore, Nicole." He paused. "But it's been a way of life for a long time. And in the Centre my clothes were always gray or black too."

"Then it's more than time for a change." Nicole came over, opening the doors. "Ann's really good with clothes and she picked such a great variety that you could wear just about anything together, so you won't have to keep asking me how you look." She eyed him. "Not that I'd mind if you did."

He grinned. "As long as you can cope with the dramatic change..."

"Can you?"

"I only have to feel it. I don't have to see it as well."

She turned away and heard him follow her down the hall. "What do you want for dinner?"

"That depends on what you want," he replied. "I was planning to cook."

"You made breakfast," she retorted quickly. "And you're still an invalid so you're going to sit in the living room and read one of the books you got today while I cater."

"Yes, ma'am." He saluted her. "Between you and Ann, I'm in very real danger of being ordered to death. Even on the U.S. naval destroyer, I didn't get this many orders."

Nicole laughed. "Is that a hint? Because I told you I don't generally listen to advice. Especially not from patients."

For a moment, Jarod was tempted to ask her if he was still just a patient, but the remembrance of the painful scene from early that morning before prevented him. He made his way silently into the living room and turned on the stereo, putting on music she had said was her favorite before going over to the sofa, sitting down and picking up one of his books.

 

* * *

 

Jarod shut the book that he had almost finished and listened as she walked over to sit on the sofa opposite him with a slight sigh.

"Are you okay?"

"Just a little weary. It's been a long day."

He flipped up the cover of his watch to feel the time. "It's not that early. You could go to bed."

"I had thought about that, but I don't know if I can..."

"If you're going to say 'trust you'," he laughed, "I'll start complaining again!"

"I won't say it! I promise! Anything but that!"

He grinned. "Sleepy sarcasm doesn't have quite the same effect."

"Hey, it's better than nothing." Nicole was about to continue when a yawn took her by surprise. "I think I might take your advice."

"I didn't think you..." He stopped himself before he went any further and reopened his book. She hesitated for a second before getting up and, unwilling to break the awkward silence, abruptly left the room. In her bedroom, she shut the door and pressed her back against the surface, one tear slowly making its way down her cheek.

"No, Jarod." The words were a whispered admission. "You aren't just a patient any more."

 

* * *

 

 

Jarod made his way onto the veranda and sat in one of the deck chairs. Closing his eyes, he felt the warmth of the rising sun on his face.

"It's a little late in the season to be trying to get a tan now."

"Good morning." Jarod grinned as he turned his head in her direction. "I've been inside so much lately that I'm starting to forget what it feels like to be out in the open air."

"I had been thinking that, if your leg was up to it, I could get you used to going to a nearby park before I start back at work."

"That's Monday, right? Three days away?"

"Unfortunately." She sighed. "Just as I get used to being on vacation..."

"Oh, come on," he grinned. "You enjoy your job."

Nicole raised an eyebrow. "How could you tell?"

"Because of the way you talked about it with Ann when we met them on the first night I was here."

She laughed. "I'm not sure I like you knowing that much about me."

"You know an awful lot about me, Nicole." His voice was serious and she looked at him, surprised to find that his eyes were staring directly into hers.

"Then you know why it makes me uncomfortable." She looked towards the sun for a moment and then back, relieved to find that he had also turned away. "I'm going to make coffee. Want some?"

"Sounds great." He slowly and somewhat awkwardly got out of the chair.

"Why on earth do you insist on getting into spots that it's hard to get out of?"

"Ann told you about my bean-bag seat yesterday, I take it," he commented knowingly.

"She did," Nicole agreed. "So why do you?"

He shrugged. "Just a bad habit, I guess."

 

* * *

 

Jarod sat on the park bench, placing the crutches where he could reach them easily, and turned his face up to the sun.

"Nice?"

"Very." He wriggled slightly. "But I'm still..."

"Trying to get used to the new wardrobe. I noticed. Still, it does suit you."

He laughed. "The Centre would never find me, dressed like this."

She sat down beside him. "Particularly not if they were looking for a corpse in black leather."

He smiled, listening to the sounds of children playing on a nearby swing set and a couple jogging past them. Slowly the smile faded as the thoughts that had been randomly circling in his mind for several days now sorted themselves into some sort of order. "It's weird."

Nicole turned to look at him. "What is?"

Jarod hesitated for a moment and then began to speak. "When I first got out of the Centre, I was trying to deal with a world that I knew almost nothing about, and, to be honest, it scared me. The only parts of it I knew were what I'd seen in relation to the sims I performed and that was almost never positive - only people killing other people, planes exploding and that sort of thing. So I kept expecting that the real world would be like that too. I mean," his voice lowered, "sometimes it can be. When I was helping people, I'd often see the dark side of it. But then I could turn around and see the good side of it, too. And I do mean 'see'. I could watch a sunset, or see people smiling or something like that. And then this happened."

He stopped and, for a moment, an expression of pain came into his eyes. Nicole remained silent but nodded understandingly.

"When I was lying in that hospital room, I was thinking that I might as well call Sydney and tell the Centre to come and get me. I just couldn't work out how I could continue to appreciate life when I wasn't able to see it. And I hated that thought because just the idea of willingly going back to that place has always been - frightening, to put it mildly. But I was trying to figure out some way for me to continue being useful in the world when I couldn't see and nothing came to mind."

He stretched one arm out on the bench beside him away from her, ensuring that he could feel the crutches, before he continued.

"A few years ago, I helped a woman who had been blinded by a bomb. It seems a bit ironic now, I guess. But I helped her deal with the fear she'd started to develop of going outside and punished the guy that did it. Then it happened to me - and I just couldn't deal with it. I couldn't deal with the fact that it might never go away." He hesitated. "If you hadn't come in when you did, I don't know what I would have done."

She smiled faintly but still remained silent, feeling that he didn't need her to talk, only to listen.

"The day when I fell, I do remember what happened now. I didn't at the time - I wasn't lying to you - but I've remembered since. I turned on the kettle and went into the bathroom. Something caught around my ankle and, instead of sitting down and unwinding it, the way I should have and the way I know you'd have told me to, I tried to kick it aside. Of course, that didn't help. But, even as I fell, I remember hoping that you'd come home early to find me. And then I came around, angry as all heck with myself, and grabbed the first thing handy - it was the towel that was still tangled around my ankle - and went into my room. I don't know why, but I thought it'd be the last place you'd look for me and, by then, I didn't want you to know what I'd done."

There was a long pause.

"After I came around from the anesthetic, you were the only person I thought would be there." He stopped abruptly before continuing softly. "I'm sorry, Nicole."

"No, Jarod." Nicole blinked away the tears that would come, no matter how much she tried to get rid of them. "Don't be sorry. I was glad to be there. I wouldn't have wanted to be anywhere else."

He smiled. "When I woke up, after we had the scene with the I.V.," he grinned at the memory and paused before continuing. "I sort of assumed you'd still be there then, too. Of course, I know it's a very selfish idea, but the only excuse I can offer is that I wasn't exactly thinking very clearly at the time. There was a nurse in my room, though, and she told me that you'd left already. I understood it, but I was still a little disappointed. Then you called and I could almost believe it was just to find out how I was. I mean," he spoke hurriedly, "it probably wasn't, but that's how it felt to me."

Nicole was about to speak when she looked over at him and stopped herself. A moment later, he leaned back against the seat, lifting his face so his eyes looked blindly into the sun again. She put a hand into her bag and pulled out a pair of sunglasses, slipping them onto his nose. "I think we'll avoid frying your retinas in direct sunlight, if you don't mind."

Jarod grinned, settling them more firmly on his face, glad that she understood enough of what he wanted to say not to interrupt and even more grateful that the scene was finished.

"Picky, picky, picky." He passed a hand over the lenses, recognizing the shape. "Hey, these are mine! Unless you have a pair exactly the same - "

"No, they are yours. I rescued them from your jacket pocket before your PEZ dispenser scratched them to death."

He smiled gratefully. "I thought you must have handed them on to Lyle and I like them so the idea was a little irritating."

Nicole snorted. "Did you have images of him wearing them or something?"

Jarod laughed. "Yeah, something like that. Eating my pop tarts, wearing my sunglasses, playing with my toys..."

She grinned. "You really don't like that guy, huh?"

"Do you?" he asked seriously.

"I've come across people with personalities I like less in my time - but not many."

He nodded, the smile gone from his face, and Nicole glanced at him. "That woman you helped - I don't suppose her name was Rachel Newton, was it?"

His jaw dropped as he turned to her. "How did you know?"

"She was one of my first patients after I got my sight back. She'd moved here and came because she was having some pain and wanted to check that it was okay. She mentioned you."

Jarod smiled faintly. "Nothing bad, I hope."

"Quite the opposite. She feels like she owes you a big debt." Nicole reached over and touched his hand. "Jarod, even if you hadn't been able to find a place in the world where you couldn't see, the memory of all those people you helped would surely have been enough to prevent you from doing anything that extreme."

"In hindsight, I can say yes," he agreed. "But then I couldn't have brought myself to think about it."

Nicole smiled. "Well, we should both consider ourselves lucky that you had time to realize it then."

She was about to continue when a voice stopped her.

"Dr. Austen?"

The doctor turned to see a woman behind them. "Rachel! We were just talking about you."

"We?" The redhead smiled. "Who's 'we'?"

"Hi, Rachel."

"Jarod!" The blind woman's voice was startled. "What are you doing here?"

"Getting treatment," he replied somewhat abruptly.

"You mean...you're blind?"

"Yes," he admitted softly. "I went into a building with a bomb in it."

"We seem to make a habit of it, between us."

He laughed somewhat ruefully. "It does begin to look that way, doesn't it?"

"Rachel, did you wait for me?" A man came up to the group at this moment, a little out of breath, and the woman turned towards him.

"I just stopped to chat, Chris. I knew you'd catch up." She turned back. "Jarod, this is my fiancee, Chris Evans. Chris, I've told you about Jarod."

The blind man held out his hand and felt it firmly shaken.

"It's a real pleasure to meet you, Jarod. I've heard a lot about you."

"It's good to meet you, too."

Chris grinned and then looked down at his future wife. "Do you want to hang around here or...?"

"No, we'll keep going." She slipped her hand around his arm. "It was fantastic to talk to you again, Jarod. Hopefully, if you're staying around here, we'll get the chance again. And, Dr. Austen, I'll be by in a couple of weeks."

"I'm looking forward to it, Rachel."

After hearing them walk away, Jarod spoke. "She sounds happy."

"Oh, she is. She came to see me a couple of days after they got engaged and I'm sure she was walking on air then. It doesn't seem as if she's come down yet and that was almost three months ago."

Jarod laughed. "He's a lucky man."

"And she's a lucky woman. Chris works at the hospital and was interested in her from the first day he saw her. He came to me to learn everything he'd need to know to live with her. He'd decided to marry her before they were even introduced. I taught him Braille and other necessities and now she thinks he's fantastic."

He smiled, gathering his crutches in one hand, and she grinned.

"Do I take it that that means you want to go home?"

The smile widened. "How did you guess?"

Nicole laughed as she stood up. "Oh, I'm getting to know you pretty well by now."

 

* * *

 

"What are you thinking about, Jarod?"

Nicole glanced up from the book she was reading as she asked the question, seeing him raise an eyebrow as he lifted his head.

"Why do I have to be thinking about something?"

"Because, if you aren't thinking then you're always doing and you haven't moved for nearly twenty minutes."

He laughed. "Maybe I'm just tired."

"No." She shook her head. "If you're tired, you do more in the hope that I won't notice."

Jarod raised an eyebrow. "I had no idea you kept such close tabs on me."

"As a former patient, it was my job."

She spoke without thinking, realizing what she'd said as blood rushed up to her face. Desperately Nicole tried to think of a way to change the meaning of her sentence. Jarod gave her no chance.

"'Was,' Nicole?" He turned his face in her direction, his voice soft. "Is it still only 'was'?"

"No, Jarod." Her voice was low. "It isn't."

"I'd like to think that we're friends, Nicole, and no longer just doctor and patient."

She nodded slowly, her voice hesitant. "I'd like that too, Jarod."

He smiled. "I'm glad."

Darkness Series
Part 7: ...Into The Light


"Were you intending to wake up today, Nicole, or did you want to sleep for the whole of it?"

She yawned and opened her eyes to see him standing at the end of her bed. "What time is it?"

"Almost ten,” Jarod told her. “I only ask because otherwise I'll eat breakfast on my own."

Eyes narrow, she scrutinized him closely. "Why do I detect a hidden meaning in that sentence?"

Jarod laughed, leaning down to pick up a basket that had formerly been hidden by the end of the bed. "How could you tell?"

"What on earth...?"

"I might add that it's hard to eat lying down, let alone being bad for digestion."

Listening as she sat up in bed, he bent down to retrieve the tray that she had used when he was unable to get up and held it out.

"Do you want to set that up while I get the rest?"

She raised an eyebrow. "The... the rest?"

Jarod laughed. "Just a sec." He handed her the basket and left the room, only to reappear with a bag, from which, as he sat down and arranged his crutches, she extracted various items. "Bread's a little boring without things to put on it."

She pulled a smaller basket out of the larger one, turning back the cloth on top to inhale the scent that rose from it.

"That's the normal bread,” Jarod told her, recognizing the smell. “As you like the cinnamon one so much, I made some of that, as well."

"Do I get invited to this feast too?" queried a voice and Ann poked her head around the door.

"Well, I don't know." Jarod arched an eyebrow, turning at the sound of the voice. "You just helped me cook. I don’t know whether assistants usually deserve to eat..."

Ann picked up a pillow and hit him with it as she sat down on the bed. A smile on her face, Nicole reached over and grabbed her gown, pulling it on. "If I'd known this was going to be a community affair, I would have worn better pajamas."

Jarod grinned. "You look fine to me."

Ann laughed and hit him with the pillow again. "Behave yourself in the company of ladies."

"Well, I can understand how Nicole fits into that category,” he retorted quickly. “But you..."

Nicole picked up a roll, broke part of it off and put it in his mouth. "Stop talking before you get into more trouble than you can get out of."

Jarod laughed and chewed before swallowing. Nicole pulled a tightly sealed jug out of the basket and filled a cup, which she put into his hand. "So you don't choke..."

"How truly considerate," he commented around the crumbs in his mouth.

"Always."

He grinned and ate the rest of the roll in silence.

* * *

Jarod scrubbed the bread tin and, after feeling to check that it was completely clean, rinsed it and laid it, steaming, on to the sink. Reaching into the water, he took out the last teaspoon, shook off the suds and placed it onto the draining rack.

"I should kidnap you one night, take you to my house and keep you there forever as a slave," said an amused voice from just inside the room.

"What would your husband say?” he laughed. “Besides, I'm an expert at escaping. I'd be gone as soon as you turned around."

"Ah, but I know where you'd go," Ann reminded him.

"I'd sneak back here, grab Nicole and the two of us would disappear over the horizon, never to be heard from again - and, in addition, I wouldn't pay you back for the clothes you bought."

"My God, you're cruel!"

"I know." He grinned. "But I can be very charming as well."

Nicole came into the room to find Ann speechless. "What did he say?"

Ann repeated the conversation and, unable to help laughing, Nicole leaned against the bench as she eyed the man. "So where would we go?"

"I'll tell you when she isn't around to hear it. Where's the pursuit factor if I just tell people where I am when they're hunting for me?"

Nicole laughed again and picked up a dishcloth. "Do I get no say?"

"None," he told her firmly. "But," Jarod added after a moment of thought, "I'll give you ten minutes to pack."

"Well, that's generosity!"

"I've told you before, sarcasm is not becoming." He reached down to pull out the plug, listening as the water drained away. Nicole watched him go to pick up the bread-tin, seeing the consternation in his eyes as his hand brushed empty air.

"Hey, what the...?" He turned and held out a hand, the other on his hip. "Give it."

"No. It's nearly done."

For a moment he paused, head tilted slightly to one side, and then snatched the cloth out of one hand and the tin out of the other, feeling it over before wiping it one last time and putting it on the bench. Nicole looked over to find Ann staring at him.

"How on earth did you know where she was?"

"I listened, of course." He lifted an eyebrow. "Did you think I got my sight back when nobody was around or something?"

"You could tell where she was…by listening?"

He picked up the teaspoon, wiping it dry. "I have a map of the kitchen in my mind. When anything changes, I make the necessary adjustments, so I’ve got a pretty good idea of where everything in it is - and how far away it is." He reached out one hand and opened the cutlery drawer, dropping the spoon inside without bothering to feel for the correct position. Grabbing the cloth he wiped the inside of the sink and then rinsed it out and hung it over the tap. Turning, he gave a bow, grabbed his crutches and made his escape.

* * *

"You forgot to put the bread-tin away after you dried it."

Jarod lifted his head and turned to face her, a book in his hand and enjoying the sunshine as he sat on the back veranda. "It was still slightly warm and I doubt you want to harbor germs in your saucepan cupboard."

"Okay, good point."

Jarod grinned, letting his fingers slip over several lines before speaking again. "Is Ann still here?"

"No, she left in a huff because of how insulting you were."

He raised an eyebrow. "She thinks that was bad?"

"I have no doubt that you are capable of worse, Jarod, but I'm not sure either of us wants to hear it."

"Okay, okay." He was about to read again when a thought struck him. "So where do you want to go?"

"If you kidnap me, you mean?" She grinned and then leaned against the veranda railing with both arms folded over her chest, facing him. "Somewhere warm."

"Hawaii?" he suggested, his eyes dancing with laughter as he remembered his last visit there.

"Only if we can go to some high-quality hotel."

"I'll send the Centre broke, just to keep you happy," he promised.

"You'd steal from the Centre? That's horrible!"

"That's justice. They owe me thirty-three years back-pay."

She grinned. "Ever bothered to work out how much exactly?"

"That would depend how much they got for selling my sims." The humor was gone from his voice and Nicole saw that his eyes were now glittering like steel. Sitting beside him, she took his hands in hers and gently unclenched the fists into which they had formed, speaking soothingly.

"Jarod, you don't have to worry about them anymore. You're safe now."

"I can't help it, Nicole. I can't forget everything they did to me."

"I didn't say you had to forget, Jarod. I don't ask impossibilities. But until you try and deal with all the things that happened there and as a result of them, those nightmares won't go away."

He looked suddenly sheepish. "I guess I didn't wake you up just the once, huh?"

"It's happened a few times, yes," she admitted.

"I'm sorry," he murmured automatically.

She looked up into his face, her voice soft. "No, Jarod. You don't have to apologize for things that aren't your fault."

A tear escaped from his unseeing eye and slowly began to slip down his face. "I don't... don't like showing that part of me."

"But it is a part of you, Jarod, and you can't deny that. You have to deal with it."

"I… I can't!"

She rested back against the outdoor sofa that had been brought out to replace the deck chairs on both front and rear verandas, eyeing him. "Jarod, you know the difference between physical and metaphorical, right?"

He shrugged carelessly. "Of course."

"So you understand me when I say that your metaphorical death gave you the chance for a whole new life?"

His head lowered, he took several deep breaths. She continued softly.

"That part of you - the part connected to the Centre - doesn't have to go away, but you can't move forward properly until you let go of the feelings that you associate with it. Right now, it's like you're carrying heavy sacks, full of the emotions from that place, around your neck, and they're dragging you down. Your freedom from the Centre has only ever been half-physical anyway. It’s got hold of you up here," she gently tapped the side of his head with her finger, "and in here," she placed her hand flat against his chest, "and until you let that go, you won't be able to take full advantage of the opportunities your new life gives you. But it's going to take both time and hard work. You can't just throw something like that away as easily as you did with the clothes you wore before you got the new ones."

Jarod reached up and covered her hand with his own, several tears slipping onto her fingers. His words were hardly audible.

"Help me."

"I'd like to, Jarod, but I can't. I don't know and I can't possibly understand what you went through - and what you're going through now. All I can do is be there for you when you need it."

His fingers slowly tightened around her hand, his voice strangled, emotionally fighting against the place she was trying to take him. "I can't deal with it..."

"So you'll do what? Run away again?" She put her other hand under his chin and forced his head up. "No matter where you go, you'll never get away from this until you make the effort."

"It's... like a nightmare..."

"And it's one you have to wake up from, Jarod." She released her hand from his grasp and placed it and the other on his shoulders. "I know you can. It's taken a lot of inner strength to get through the past few weeks and for the most part you laughed in the face of everything that's been thrown at you. Now you just need to do the same thing to your past."

"How do you face your past," he muttered, turning away, "when you can't see your future?"

"Have you ever been able to?” she challenged him. “Did you leave the Centre in 1996 thinking 'I'll help people for three years, get recaptured, escape again, help a couple more people and then I'll go into a building with a bomb in it, and…'?"

She stopped as he smiled weakly.

"I don't even know where to start..."

Nicole gently stroked his cheek. "You'll find the right place." She stood up. "I'm going to get a few things we need from the supermarket and I'll return some of those books. I'll be back in a couple of hours."

He nodded, listening to her footsteps walk back into the house, hearing the front door softly close and knowing himself to be alone.

* * *

She quietly let herself into the house, silently closing the front door, and then put the basket down on the floor. Opening the door of his room, as she expected, she found him on his bed. He lay on his stomach, his head on his arms and turned to one side. Traces of tears were still evident on his cheeks and his breath came in ragged gasps through his parted lips. She came over, picking up a blanket that lay, folded, on the foot of the bed, and gently spread it over him. Jarod moaned softly as she did so and she bent down to brush his cheek with her lips before she left the room.

Picking up the basket, she went into the living room and put the small pile of books onto the table before going into the kitchen to unpack the rest of its contents. It took almost twenty minutes to do all that and then she returned the basket in its normal spot beside the front door before looking in on him again. His face was calmer and he made no sound as she watched from the doorway, but she could tell that he was still asleep. The expression on Nicole’s face was a tender smile as she pulled the door almost closed behind her and returned to the living room.

* * *

Jarod sat on the edge of the bed, his face turned to the floor. His hands held tightly to the edge of the mattress as if afraid he would fall off it, and his head still throbbed painfully from the emotion that had finally sent him to sleep earlier.

"Hi."

He turned his face to the door as he heard her speaking softly.

"How are you feeling?"

Shrugging, he turned away. He could hear her footsteps walking softly over the carpet and it was no surprise when the mattress next to him bent and Nicole was beside him, her arm brushing his.

"Jarod, when I said I wouldn't help, it’s not because I don't want to. I don't think I know enough..."

"I understand."

His words were barely a whisper. She turned to face him.

"Is there anything I can do?"

Jarod felt the words rather than hearing them, a drop of peace in a mind that had been in turmoil for hours. Abruptly he turned, lowered his head until it rested on her shoulder and burst into tears. Nicole wrapped her arms around his shoulders and felt his work their way around her back as his tears soaked through her hair and her shirt, finally running in warm trails down her neck. Silently, she rocked him, wishing that she could understand what he was going through.

Finally the tears ran out and Jarod felt his eyes dry. He remained still, feeling that he had found a source of comfort and not wanting to let that go. Her hand gently stroked the back of his head and the other arm was wrapped around his shoulders, holding him close to her.

"Is the hardest part over now, Jarod?"

She made no move, knowing he would hear her question. There was a silence lasting for several minutes before he spoke.

"I don't know. Maybe."

"I think it's a start, anyway. The walls you built around those emotions needed something to give them a good whack, and I think we've done that today."

"How did you know?"

She smiled. "You never asked me what my specialty was before I learnt optical and neurological medicine. Can you guess now?"

"Psychiatry." It wasn't a question but he could feel her nodding in response.

"Rather an appropriate combination, don't you think?"

Nicole laughed, her hand moving from the back of his head, down his cheek and onto his chest to the place where it had rested earlier that day. She could feel his heart beating in his chest.

"Is the pain still as bad here as it was, Jarod?"

"Not as bad,” he admitted quietly as he lifted his head. “But it's still..."

"It'll take more than that to get rid of it, but we'll work on it. Together, I know we can beat this. The Centre has no chance against both of us."

"They have no idea what they're facing." Despite the words, his voice was still emotionless.

"They should be terrified." She spoke in a light tone. "They should be shaking in their shoes - and not because they forgot to pay the heating bill."

He smiled faintly, his eyes still blank, and slowly pulled out of her grasp, shivering, as the warmth seemed to stay behind with her. She picked up the blanket that he had thrown aside, gently wrapping it around him, her tones understanding.

"It's getting late, Jarod. Do you want something to eat or maybe just a drink?"

"I'm... not hungry...” he admitted slowly. “But..."

"Maybe some coffee?"

He nodded and she got up. "I think it might be a good idea if you go to bed and try to sleep soon. You've been through enough today..." Her voice died away as she bent down, gently kissing the top of his head before abruptly leaving the room.

* * *

She looked at the clock, her eyes fixed on the face, but her mind not taking in the information it was receiving. She had tried to read, too, but gave that up as a useless task. A CD had finished more than three hours ago, but she hadn't bothered to get up and change it. Had anybody asked, though, Nicole would have found it impossible to say what she was thinking about. Her mind seemed to be a complete blank. But she was remembering, almost reliving, the way it felt to hold him and how it had felt to have him hold her. And the emotion of it was building up in her so much that it almost seemed like an waste of time to breathe.

Yet she wasn't certain, had circumstances been different, whether he would have done it at all. It was that doubt that was stopping her from going in to see him now. And it was the same indecision that meant she scarcely looked at him when she went in to the room with his mug, to find him already curled up in bed. Nicole had kept out of reach, almost afraid of what he might do.

But more afraid of what she wouldn't be able to stop herself from doing.

"N... Nicole?"

Starting at the sound of his voice, she turned to see Jarod came out into the dark room, using one hand to wipe the sleep from his eyes as he hesitated in the doorway, the other hand gathering the blanket around his shoulders while also keeping hold of his crutches.

"What are you doing up?"

The query came from them both simultaneously and they laughed together as he sat down on the sofa next to her, pulling the blanket tightly around him. She looked at her watch in the dimness of the room, finally taking in the time and shocked to find that it was already after three. Raising her head, she visually examined the features of the man beside her as he stared straight ahead into the never-ending darkness.

"Couldn't you sleep?"

"I have been, but I couldn't stay there any longer. I had to come out here." Jarod turned his head in her direction. "Have you slept tonight?"

"Not yet," she admitted.

"It's lucky you don't have work today."

"I'd probably operate on the wrong end."

He laughed again and she thrilled to hear the emotion that had seemed, a few hours earlier, as if it might never be there again.

Unable to suppress his curiosity, he raised an eyebrow. "What were you thinking about, Nicole?"

"The person I'm looking at," she told him quietly.

He turned his head in several directions, amusement in his eyes and a smile on his face. "There's someone else here?"

"Not anymore."

Jarod raised an eyebrow, the amusement gone. "Can I guess who you mean?"

"Probably." She looked down at her hands. "Definitely."

His response was both soft and understanding. "So there's only the two of us now?"

"I think so."

"You don't know?"

She paused. "It's too early to be definite, but I think..."

He could feel her trembling as she sat beside him, his arm occasionally brushing hers. Gently he reached out one hand, placing it on her knee.

"You're cold."

"That, too."

"Are you scared of me, Nicole?"

His blind eyes appeared to search her face with such intensity that she was grateful, both that he couldn't see her and that it was almost totally dark in the room. As he raised his hand, the blanket slowly slipped off his shoulders, and his fingers came into gentle contact with her face. Jarod held his palm against her cheek for a second and then moved his hand slightly so his fingertips slipped into her hair. Slowly, he came closer, waiting to feel if she would pull away, but she never moved, and he finally brought his lips into gentle contact with hers.

There was a second of hesitation on both sides before she responded, her hands lifting to link behind his head as she relaxed against him and the kiss slowly deepened. Jarod curled his other arm around her shoulders, drawing her closer to him and moving his right hand so that his fingers were tangled in the curls at the back of her head.

As their first kiss ended, Nicole lowered her head so it rested on his shoulder, one hand stroking the back of Jarod's head and the other slipping down to lie flat on his chest. There was a moment of silence before he spoke.

"Are you scared of me?"

"Not anymore."

"But you were."

"I was more scared of what I'd do - what I couldn't stop myself from doing."

Jarod raised an eyebrow. "Did I do it for you?"

"Yes," she admitted.

He smiled into the darkness, his hand moving to pick up the blanket from where it lay on the sofa and pulling it around both of them, holding it and resting his arm around her shoulders, fingertips of his other hand stroking the hand on his chest. Nicole broke the silence.

"I… I want to say something."

"It doesn't sound like it'll be easy."

She shook her head slightly. "It won't. Not for me. I'm not used to..."

"I love you, Nicole."

Lifting her head, she stared up at him. "How did you know?"

"I thought it might be easier if you knew that before you said anything at all." He brought down his mouth so that it touched hers gently once more.

"Jarod?"

He ran the backs of his fingers down her cheek. "Mmm?"

"I love you, too."

* * *

He moved his hand gently up and down her arm, feeling her close to him, both by desire and from the limitations imposed on them by the small size of the sofa. She lay virtually on top of him, filling the space between his body and the back of the piece of furniture. Jarod knew Nicole was asleep, but he couldn't rest. There were too many emotions swirling inside him - conflicting emotions that wouldn't settle. But the most overwhelming was also the most recent. She loved him. He’d known for what seemed like forever that he loved her and it had purely been the nagging uncertainty that had prevented him from saying it to her earlier. Nicole suddenly shivered and nestled close to him but whether from a scene in a dream or from cold he couldn't tell. Jarod wrapped his arms around her, holding her close and thrilling at her nearness. After a moment, he felt her tense, and knew that she was awake.

"Hi."

She moved the hand that lay on his chest to his face and gently stroked his cheek. "You okay?"

"Fine,” he murmured. “You?"

"A little cold."

"Do you want to go to bed?"

"Not if you're going to yours."

He smiled. "I'd suggest you come with me, but it's a bit small."

"Do you want...?" She stopped and he waited, guessing what she would say but unwilling to push her faster than she wanted to go. There was a long pause.

"Jarod, help me here."

He chuckled. "You know what you want to say. Say it."

She raised herself on one arm and Jarod could tell she was glaring at him. "That wasn't helpful at all!"

"Sure?"

He raised a hand, running it up the length of the arm that held her above him and along her neck, finally cupping her cheek in his palm once more. Nicole let herself down, her lips brushing his and her eyes slipping closed as she relaxed against him again. He spoke as his mouth was in contact with hers.

"Are you sure that didn't give you your answer?"

"Well... maybe..."

* * *

Jarod pulled himself upright in bed, feeling that she was no longer there. With an impatient hand, he flipped up the cover of his watch and ran his fingers over the raised dots. It was already almost eleven, but, running a hand over the place where she had slept, he felt that it was still warm, and quickly calculated that she could only have been gone for a few minutes. Suddenly he felt his skin crawl with the feeling that he always had when he was being watched and held his breath to hear the faint sound of breathing in the doorway. He turned his head sharply in that direction.

"Nicole? Are you there?"

"Mmm hmm." Nicole came over to sit beside him, placing a hand on his. "Were you missing me?"

"Just so as you'd notice, yes." He stretched out his arm and slipped it around her waist, gathering her to him before relaxing back against the pillows with her in his arms. She looked up at him.

"Were you planning to spend all day here?"

"Do you have any objections?"

"Only on grounds of hunger, thirst and all other necessities. You haven't had anything to eat since breakfast yesterday, remember, which might explain your current behavior."

He laughed, kissing her again. "There's only one thing to explain this and it has nothing to do with hunger. Can you guess what it is?"

She couldn’t help smiling. "Tell me."

Jarod moved his mouth to her ear and lowered his voice to a whisper. "I've been in love with you almost from the first moment I heard your voice."

* * *

He propped his legs up on the footstool and felt her lie back against him. Jarod lowered one hand so that it rested on her hair and used the other to hold the book open on his lap.

"Okay, now I'm in trouble."

"Why?" He could hear the smile in her voice.

"I need a third arm," he explained with a grin.

"You can have my two," she offered.

"That is a wonderfully sweet gesture, but I need it connected to my brain."

She laughed. "That's just asking way too much."

He grinned again. "I knew you wouldn't be that self-sacrificial."

Nicole took his hand from the top of her head, squeezing it gently before she let go. "I don't need you to always be holding me to show how much you love me. I know it now."

"Not even if I want to?" He raised an eyebrow and she laughed.

"Well, if you really wanted to, I wouldn't deny you that chance..."

He smiled and returned his hand to its former position. "It feels right there."

"For me, too."

"And I'll have to learn to read Braille without holding the book."

"Well, perhaps I can remove that necessity, at least temporarily."

"Ann!" Nicole sat upright and stared at her friend, turning when Jarod put out one hand past her, his voice stern.

"Give it."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Give me back the key I gave you and which you never returned."

"Gee, darn," Ann grumbled, but pulled the key ring out of her pocket and placed it into the palm of his hand. "Couldn't you have found someone less quick to have here that I could steal… borrow a key from?"

As Nicole laughed, Jarod narrowed his eyes. "I'll have the duplicate too, thanks."

"How the...?"

He grinned as he felt the second key being placed in his outstretched hand. "I was waiting to hear what your main complaint was. If you complained about no longer having the chance to sneak in and out whenever you wanted to then I would have believed that you didn't have a copy." Jarod shrugged. "You didn't."

"You're too smart for your own good."

He smirked and closed the book, placing it on the table in front of him. "I've been told that before."

"Oh, go and put your keys away."

Jarod laughed, bent down and picked up his crutches, leaving the room without another word.

"I won't ask," Ann stated, the moment he was gone.

"Good,” Nicole retorted abruptly. “Because I won't tell."

"Except..."

Nicole put a hand over her friend's mouth. "No exceptions. I'm very happy. He's very happy. Isn't that enough for you?"

Ann smiled. "Unless I was hard to please, it should be. And it's a big difference from the way you were a few days ago."

"No comment on your first sentence. I'll ask the staff about that. But I agree with the second."

Ann raised an eyebrow. "And is he in love with you?"

Nicole smiled. "You don't honestly expect me to answer that, do you?"

"Not now that you've just removed the necessity of it, no."

"Have you deserted your husband or something?"

Jarod reentered the room in clothes that made Ann whistle in admiration before she even realized that he had asked her a question.

"Did I buy all that?"

"Most of it. A couple of additions are mine from my last pretend before my time in demolitions."

"What were you - a fashion model?"

Jarod grinned but didn't comment and Ann laughed. "Well, for somebody who can’t see himself in the mirror, I think you did a pretty good job."

He sat down on the sofa. "Can I get an answer to my question?"

"Roger's been busy at work for the last few days, to prepare for a vacation we’ve got planned in a week's time."

"And your purpose for today's visit is...?"

Ann looked at her friend and laughed. "Now that's downright incivility! But as you asked so nicely, I was going to invite the two of you out for dinner tonight with the two of us. I've miraculously still got tonight off work and Roger finishes at six."

"Sounds good. Shall we meet at your place and go from there, or...?"

"Unless you want me to cook and the two of you can come around here," the man offered.

"There's an offer I can't refuse. If your dinners are anywhere near as good as your breakfasts..." She glanced at Nicole. "Are they?"

"I have no idea," the other woman shrugged. "He's never made me any. I'm the person who does dinner."

"What a waste of talent!"

Jarod laughed. "Are you trying to make my head swell?"

"Not intentionally, but you don't make a bad breakfast."

"What condescension!"

Nicole laughed at the tones in his voice. "Come around at seven and we'll eat... when?"

She looked up at Jarod, leaning back against him as she did so, and he wrapped one arm around her waist. "Eight."

"Okay, I'm looking forward to it." Ann's eyes lighted on the scene in front of her for a few moments before she glanced at her watch and stood up. "I should be going."

Nicole looked somewhat startled. "Already?"

"Well, you didn't seem to want me here when I arrived!" Ann protested, laughing.

"Besides Nicole, I need you to take me shopping,” Jarod put in.

"I did that yesterday,” she reminded him.

"But that won't be enough to satisfy the chef," Ann laughed, about to turn away when Jarod spoke again.

"Can you write down the total of those clothes for me somewhere and I'll pay you back tonight?"

"Why? Planning to vanish like a phantom in the night, taking Nicole with you, of course, and don't want to leave outstanding debts behind?"

He choked back a laugh. "Yeah, something like that."

* * *

Nicole shut the front door and came back down the hall into the kitchen to find Jarod bent double, sweeping crumbs into a pan.

"You know," she began conversationally, watching him straighten up immediately. "I could almost swear that that was expressly forbidden."

"Maybe I'm selectively deaf and didn't hear it said."

"Deaf and blind.” She tutted sympathetically. “What a terrible combination."

"Hey, I said selectively deaf." He allowed her to take the items out of his hand and finish cleaning up.

"So what can you hear?"

"Anything you choose to tell me,” he laughed.

"So if I choose to tell you not to bend over..."

"Sorry, what? I didn't quite catch that."

He turned his head in her direction, one hand cupped behind his ear and his features alight with amusement.

"I said your dinner was great."

His face became serious. "It was better when I could see."

She put down the pan and went over to him, slipping both arms around his waist. "You don't have any regrets, Jarod? Not anymore?"

"Just one, Nicole."

"And that is?"

Jarod kissed her before responding but his voice was full of sadness. "I don't know what you look like."

Darkness Series
Part 8: A Helping Hand From the Dark

Jarod tasted the gravy he was making and added another pinch of salt, resuming stirring the pan over the low heat.

"How do you do it?" demanded a voice to his left and Jarod half-turned, the instinct of moving in the direction of a sound continuing, despite the fact that it was unnecessary.

"Do what?"

"Make perfectly smooth sauce every time." Nicole leaned on his shoulder and peered into the pan at the lump-free gravy. "It's not fair."

He grinned. "I don't know. Somehow, it just works."

"And if you don't know, then you can't teach me," the woman proclaimed in disgust, checking on the pudding.

"Sorry." Jarod tried to look meek, shrugging his shoulders, before moving the pan off the heat and turning off the hotplate. Moving aside, he sat on the bench, picking up a half-empty glass of Dr. Pepper and sipping it. "But I'll let you pour the gravy into the container when it's cool."

"Such generosity," she told him, in tones of killing sarcasm.

"I know," he grinned, dimples showing in his cheeks, as she stood in front of him. Kissing him, Nicole then moved out of his reach to begin whipping the brandy cream.

"What can I do?" he queried after a moment.

"Don't you think you've done enough?" she retorted at once. "After making stuffing, gravy, pudding, Christmas cake - there isn't anything else we could have prepared before the actual day!"

"I've always like being organized," he responded thoughtfully. "And it's nice, being able to plan for such a long period, instead of living day-to-day."

"I can imagine," she stated softly, abruptly changing the subject. "By the way, what were you doing last night until 2am?"

He grinned. "At this time of year, you aren't meant to be asking questions."

"Okay, okay." Nicole put the lid on the container and placed it into the fridge before rinsing the beaters. "Now, is there anything else to do?"

"Have we got everything that will need preparation tomorrow?" Jarod asked after a moment of thought.

"I think so."

"Then, no, we've probably done all we need to."

He slid off the bench, refilling the glass from a bottle in the fridge and then following Nicole into the living room. Listening to her stir the fire, he sat down in the corner of the sofa and picked up his book. 

"Can you turn the lights on?"

Nicole's eyebrows shot up into her bangs as she turned to stare at him. "I beg your pardon?"

"The Christmas tree lights," he explained with a grin, knowing what she was thinking.

She eyed the unlit tree. "How do you know they're not on?"

"They make a very soft click when they go on and off," Jarod replied. "And, as I know you like them best when they're flashing, that's the way you usually have them."

Laughing, Nicole stepped over and flicked the switch that would illuminate the many colored strings of lights. For a moment, she stood beside the tree, finally detecting the very faint noise as the lights flashed. Shaking her head, she sat down beside him on the sofa.

"Incredible. I wouldn't have picked that up when I couldn't see."

He smiled, putting one arm around her. Nicole rested her head on his shoulder and stared at the fire. Jarod fiddled with her hair as he gazed into the blackness surrounding him, his book lying forgotten on his knee.

"Are you happy, Jarod?" Nicole asked suddenly.

"Yes," he responded honestly, turning his head to kiss her hair. "How could I be otherwise?"

 

* * *

When Jarod awoke, it was the silence he noticed first. Carefully, he flipped up the cover of his watch to feel the time, discovering that it was just past six.

"It's snowing," a sleepy voice from beside him stated.

"I thought it might be," he told her. "Is it deep?"

"I don't think so." Nicole snuggled up against him. "Sleep okay?"

"Fine." Jarod ran his fingers through her hair, his face turned to the ceiling, eyes closed. "You aren't on call today, are you?"

"Not till this afternoon," she replied. "We may have to have Christmas lunch instead of dinner, in case I get a call during it."

"No problem." He removed his arm from around her shoulders. "Do you want any breakfast?"

"Not very much," she smiled, as he pulled on his bathrobe, tucking her hands under her head and staring at the ceiling. "Maybe just one or two of the rolls you made last night after I went to bed."

Jarod laughed. "Is there anything I do that you don't know about?" 

"Nope," she giggled, as he slid into his slippers. "But I can do things you don't know about!"

"Oh, really?" Jarod raised an eyebrow. "Should I ask what?"

"At this time of year..." she retorted, grinning.

"Okay, okay," he interrupted hurriedly. "You were really hoping for that, weren't you?"

"Oh, yes," Nicole laughed. "Absolutely!"

 

* * *

Jarod slid the tray containing the turkey into the oven, checking that the temperature dial was at the right spot as he shut the oven door.

"Now what?" he demanded at the sound of a footstep behind him.

"The most important part of the day," Nicole told him with a grin. "The gifts."

Picking up his glass and the jug of eggnog, Jarod followed Nicole out of the room and into the living area. She took the objects out of his hand and placed them on the coffee table as he sat on the sofa.

"Well, you must have been a good boy this year," Nicole commented as she eyed the stack of gifts under the tree.

"Oh, I think that's debatable," Jarod retorted with a grin. "But I did try."

Laughing, Nicole put a box on his lap, sitting down on the floor at his feet. Eagerly ripping the paper off the gift, he found the strip of Braille she had attached to the box and read the dots, his face lighting up.

"Nicole!" he exclaimed in delight, hugging her. "A top-range voice recognition program!"

"Thought you'd be pleased," she replied complacently. "It should make that column you write for the newspaper easier."

"Absolutely!"

Jarod kissed the top of her head, pulling out the sheet on which Nicole had transcribed the instructions and quickly reading the description of the product. Before he could read further, however, another gift was placed on his lap.

"More?"

"It's Christmas," she reminded him with a grin.

"But it's your turn," he protested indignantly. "I know there's at least one present there for you - I put it there myself!"

Laughing, Nicole reached over and pulled a square parcel towards her, arching an eyebrow at the sounds that came from it.

"Jarod, did you - ?"

"Open it," he ordered, grinning. "Questions later. Oh, but don't turn it upside down."

Shooting a suspicious glance at him, she carefully unsealed the tape and peeled away the paper, eyeing the holes in the cardboard box.

"Is this...?"

"Ah, ah, ah," he scolded. "I'm sure you haven't looked inside yet."

"Okay, okay." She lifted the lid of the box, the words she had been about to say dying on her lips as she stared down at the small black bundle curled up on the cushion, watching her out of bright blue eyes. "Oh, Jarod," she breathed. "How did you know?"

"I guessed, and I asked Ann," he confessed. "I also remembered you saying something about how much you liked cats."

She scooped the tiny creature up in her hands, hearing it purr as she held it gently against her cheek.

"It's a tom," Jarod told her, smiling at the sound. "He's had all his shots, and been checked by a vet."

"What's his name?"

"That's your choice," he responded.

Nicole held the kitten up in front of her face, smiling at it as it tried to bat her nose with a paw. "Toby," she said suddenly. "I always wanted a pet called that."

"You had one," he protested. "A goldfish. It lived for six days."

The woman snorted in amusement. "Well, I hope I do better with this Toby."

"So do I," Jarod agreed. "You'd find him a lot harder to flush down the toilet."

With the kitten curled up in her lap, she giggled and then looked at him. "It's your turn."

"Okay." He grinned, ripping the paper off the box and picking up the envelope inside it. After a moment of feeling the long, thin object, he raised his head. "Is this what I think it is?"

"That depends," Nicole replied at once, smiling. "What do you think it is?"

Without responding, Jarod eagerly tore open the envelope, impatiently pulling out a letter and hurriedly unfolding it. Running his fingers over the dots, Jarod's eyes glowed delightedly as he stared blindly in her direction.

"The fifth of January? Only two weeks before I get a Seeing Eye dog?"

"Well, that's what I read it as," she agreed. "And it's what the plane ticket says, too."

"Oh, wow!" Jarod's eyes glowed like those of a small child as he clutched the letter to him and beamed. Suddenly he turned to her. "When did it arrive?"

"Yesterday," she admitted. "And I read it to make sure it was good news before I put it under the tree."

"I think I can forgive you," he retorted with a grin.

"I'm glad to hear it." Nicole picked up another gift and read the label on it. "Santa was good to me, wasn't he?"

"Well, you've been very good, at least for the last few months," the man commented. "I'm sure he thought you deserved it."

She laughed, placing the kitten back on its cushion. Undoing the paper, Nicole peeled it back to see a bundle of beautifully knitted wool. Picking up the item, she discovered a thick woolen sweater, decorated in a snowflake pattern. Momentarily speechless, she finally looked up.

"Where did you buy it?"

Jarod looked indignant. "Can't you tell a home-made sweater when you see one?" 

"You mean you...?"

"With my own two hands," he admitted. "I found a book about knitting, and the woman at the store was very helpful when I was picking out the colors."

Nicole examined it carefully. "But there's not a stitch out of place! How could you know if you were using the right colors?"

"They all felt slightly different, although they were the same ply," he responded.

Reaching up, she hugged him and then pulled the pullover on. "Fits like a glove," she told him in amazement.

"Good." He smiled in satisfaction. "I don't know how you'll keep the cat hair off it, but that's not my problem." 

The woman laughed. "Well, you won't have to worry about that after New Year's, for almost a month."

"Very true," he admitted. "Lucky you've got someone to keep you company." 

Getting to her feet, Nicole sat down on the sofa beside him, leaning her head on his shoulder. "And you can be as independent as you want when you come back."

Jarod raised an eyebrow. "How come you never got a Seeing Eye dog?"

She shrugged. "I never had that much I wanted to do. I was happy sitting inside the house all day. The white cane was enough for that." The woman laughed. "Believe me, I'm as glad as you are about this, or almost. It'll be a big relief for me to know that somebody's here to look after you and stop you from taking another tumble down the veranda steps."

He chuckled, rubbing the bandage on his forehead. "At least I didn't break anything this time."

"Well," she retorted with a grin, "that makes a nice change."

 

* * *

Jarod took a pile of sweaters off the shelf in his cupboard and brought them over to the bed, on which an open suitcase was lying. Putting the clothing beside it, he sorted them into two piles and put one into the case, hearing a muffled squawk.

"Sorry, Toby," he apologized immediately, scooping the half-smothered kitten into his arms. At a sound from the doorway, he turned and sightlessly offered the animal. "Could you take your Christmas present into another room? That's the third time I've nearly packed him."

Nicole laughed as she came over to save the kitten. "I didn't even notice he was missing until I heard him protesting at your treatment. If you're not careful, he'll end up in New Jersey with you."

The man chuckled. "That would be your fault. He's your pet."

"How's it going?" Nicole asked as Toby crawled eagerly onto her shoulder and batted her hair with a gentle paw.

"Nearly done." He grinned. "But I do want you to check it over when I'm finished, to make sure I've got everything important." 

"Sure." She went over and slid her arms around his waist. "It's going to be pretty quiet around here without you, you know." 

"It's only for four weeks," he reminded her, turning to face her.

Reaching up, Nicole gently stroked his cheek with the backs of her fingers. "What I'm trying to say is that I'll miss you." 

"I know," he told her softly. "I'm going to miss you, too."

 

* * *

"Mr. Crawford?"

Jarod half-turned at the sound of the voice at his side. "Yes?"

"My name's Judith," the woman stated cheerfully. "I'm here to escort you onto the plane."

"Then I guess you don't need me anymore," Nicole teased. "I'll go back to Toby."

He grinned, gently squeezing her arm. "I'll talk to you tonight."

"I'm looking forward to it." The woman rapidly blinked several times, before kissing him on one cheek. "Have a good time."

"I will." Returning her embrace, he released his hold on her arm, still clutching the white cane in his other hand, listening to Nicole hand over the bag that constituted his cabin luggage.

When she had turned away, Judith gently took Jarod's hand and slid it around her arm. "So, I hear you're going to get yourself a Seeing Eye dog," she began as she led the way towards the gate.

"Well, that's certainly the plan," Jarod agreed.

"So you won't need me when you come back," she joked. "We're coming to the first security check. It's an x-ray, so you'll need to take off your jacket and empty your pockets."

Nodding, Jarod held out his cane. "Would you mind holding this for me?" 

"Sure," she agreed, taking it from him. "I'll put it on the conveyor belt and we can get it on the other side."

Jarod removed his coat and wallet, hearing them both placed onto the belt, and then slipped a hand around Judith's arm. She halted in front of the metal detector, passing through first and guiding him through it. On the other side, he put on his coat once more, returned his wallet to his pocket and then accepted the cane from his guide.

"We're a little early," Judith told him. "Have you got all the books and other things you might want?"

The man's eyes twinkled. "You sell Braille books here?"

"Actually, yes," she told him, laughing. "Interested?"

"Always," he affirmed eagerly.

 

* * *

"This is the luggage claiming area," Judith explained as the floor changed under Jarod's feet from carpet to linoleum. "There should be - ah, yes, there he is."

"Mr. Crawford," a cheerful male voice stated from his right. "I'm from AABBEY Limousines. I'll be driving you to Morristown. Can you tell me what distinguishing mark you put on your bags, please, so I can get them for you?"

"It's just one suitcase," Jarod replied. "Black, with a yellow star painted on either end, and with a red rag around the handle."

"Oh, yes, I see it. I'll just be a minute."

Nodding, Jarod turned to Judith. "Thanks for all your help."

"You're welcome," she told him smilingly. "I'll look forward to seeing you - the two of you - in four weeks."

"It's a date."

Jarod heard her footsteps fading and then felt the touch on his arm as the driver returned and picked up his hand luggage.

"Ready to go?"

"Absolutely." Jarod put his hand around the man's arm. "Is it far from here to Morristown?"

"No, not very far," the man responded as they left the building. "And you're nice and early, so you'll have time to get used your room and everything." 

"I thought it was better to be early," Jarod commented as he heard the driver unlock a car.

"Always good." The man gently released his arm, placing Jarod's hand on the car door. "I've opened the door for you. The seat is vacant." 

"Thanks." When the man took a step away, Jarod got into the car, hearing the door close as soon as he was settled. Several minutes later, they were underway.

 

* * *

"And this is your room," the woman's cheerful Scotch tones informed him as they stopped at a door. She placed his hand on the large, raised numbers on the door. "All the rooms here are marked like this, so you'll be able to find your way around."

"Good idea," he commented, feeling a key put into the palm of his hand.

"The key's on a chain," Elsbeth told him. "It has a clip on the other end, so you can attach it to your jeans, or whatever pants you want to wear."

Hearing her open the door, Jarod clipped the chain onto his belt-loop, slipped the key into his pocket, and then followed her into the room. She guided him around, describing the various items of furniture.

"What's in that corner?" he demanded as she paused, waving in the direction of a part of the room she had failed to comment on.

"Let me show you." She led him over to the corner. "Kneel down, Jarod."

He raised an eyebrow skeptically. "I beg your pardon."

"I'm serious. Kneel down."

Lowering himself to the floor, Jarod felt Elsbeth do the same. She took his hand and stretched it forward. His fingers touched material and he smiled.

"This wouldn't be a dog bed, would it?" 

"That's right," she agreed. "And, in two days, it will have an occupant."

He turned towards her, eyes sparkling. "Do you know which dog will be mine?"

"Yes, we think so." She smiled at the delight in his eyes. "We tentatively plan who'll get which dog, and over the next two days. as we get to know you better, we'll confirm it." Elsbeth helped him up. "Your bags are near the door, so I'll leave you to get unpacked. Somebody will come up and get you at midday for lunch."

 

* * *

"So how is it?"

"Not as nice as your place," Jarod commented as he stretched out on the bed, listening to her laugh.

"Wouldn't it qualify as 'our place'?" Nicole suggested. "After all, you have been living here for four months already."

"As long as you're happy for me to call it that," he told her, his voice softening with emotion, "I won't mind."

"When do you get your dog?" she asked, to break the silence that followed this.

"Tomorrow afternoon," he replied at once, the excitement in his voice building.

"Call me and tell me what it's like."

"Of course I will," he responded at once. "Hug Toby for me."

"I'll do that." She smiled, the sound clear in her voice. "I love you, Jarod. Have a good day tomorrow."

He smiled. "I love you too, Nicole. Don't work too hard."

 

* * *

Jarod heard the door of his room open and the sharp rat-tat of claws on the parquetry, turning his head sharply in that direction, and letting a book with which he had been trying to pass the time fall onto the bed. Simon, his trainer, laughed at his enthusiasm.

"I've got somebody just as eager to meet you," he teased.

There was a sharp click, which Jarod guessed was the dog's lead being released, and almost at once Jarod felt a warm body pressed up against his legs, paws landing on his knees as the animal tried to lick his face.

"Jarod, this is Charlie. He's a chocolate-colored Labrador Retriever. I thought he'd be perfect for you, because he's insatiably curious and impossible to deter whenever he gets interested in something." The trainer laughed. "Sounded like somebody I know. He was also trained in a house with a cat, which you told me that you had."

Laughing, Jarod fended off the dog's affectionate greetings, until finally the animal stood next to his knee, panting slightly, as the man fondled his ears.

"I'll be fitting both of you with your harness tomorrow, but for now you can get to know each other for an hour or so, until dinner. Everything else is here, including a bowl of water that was put in while you were at lunch." 

"Thanks," Jarod replied gratefully, smiling in the man's direction, his attention distracted again immediately as Charlie licked his hand.

With a chuckle, Simon shut the door behind himself. Jarod lowered himself to the floor, to be on the same level as the dog, and found his face being vigorously washed by a wet tongue.

"Stop it, Charlie," he protested, trying to push the dog gently away. "You silly thing."

The dog sat back on his haunches, panting, allowing Jarod to feel him all over. When he was done, the dog suddenly bolted away. Mystified, his hand brushing empty air, Jarod turned his head in several directions.

"Charlie? Where are you?"

In a second, the dog was back, pressing himself up against the man with an apologetic whine, before dropping a ball into the palm of his hand.

"Oh, was that it?" Jarod remarked. "All right, then, here you go."

He threw the ball to the opposite side of the room, hearing it hit the wall as the dog ran after it, returning only a few seconds later to drop it back into Jarod's hand. After repeating the action several times, Jarod could hear the dog lapping at the bowl of water beside his bed and stood up with a laugh, sitting on the bed.

"Time for a break, you think, huh?"

Checking his watch, Jarod discovered that it getting on for dinnertime.

"Well, what do I do with you?" he asked the dog. "I haven't got a harness, so I can't get you to take me down there, but I also don't think I'm meant to leave you up here."

Feeling Charlie nudge his arm, Jarod put his hand on the dog's head and ran it down his nose until he felt the leather strap in the animal's mouth.

"That sounds like a good compromise," he agreed, clipping the lead onto the collar around the neck of the Labrador. "Ready to go?"

Straining at the leash, Charlie gave Jarod little time to seize his white cane, almost pulling him in the direction of the elevator.

"Hey, slow down," Jarod protested. "I'm not that quick yet."

With an apologetic lick to the back of his hand, Charlie trotted at Jarod's heels to the elevator. Without being told, Charlie nudged Jarod's arm, before pointing his nose at the button. Jarod had just pushed it when he heard a laugh at his side.

"I thought I was supposed to teach you that," Simon remarked. "You're jumping ahead of the class." 

"Hey, it's not my fault!" Jarod protested indignantly. "You trained Charlie too well. I only do as I'm told."

"Oh, he's talking to you already?" Simon teased. "That was quick."

Laughing, Jarod followed the trainer into the spacious dining room and over to a corner where several guests already sat, enjoying a game of monopoly before dinner. When Simon walked over to a table where jugs of drink were laid out, Jarod followed.

"I... wanted to ask something," the blind man said hesitantly.

"Go ahead."

"Well, it's just that there's no guarantee my blindness will be permanent. What happens if - ?"

"If you should be lucky enough to get your sight back?" Simon finished for him. "Jarod, Charlie is now your dog. If you should get your sight back, be it a year or fifty years from now, it's up to you what happens to him. You can keep him as a pet, or give him back to us and we'll find a family for him to live with."

Nodding, Jarod poured himself a drink, checking that it wasn't too full.

"Just out of interest," Simon commented. "What are you going to do now? You've only got two hands, you know."

"Oh, that's easy," the other man laughed, dropping the leash. "Charlie, come to heel."

The dog followed him obediently across the room, leaving the trainer convulsed with laughter.

 

* * *

Jarod felt the smooth harness placed gently in his hand, already familiar from the two days of training that had filled part of the first forty-eight hours after his arrival at Morristown. Kneeling beside Charlie, he placed it in position, ensuring that the straps around the dog's body weren't too tight, before standing again and taking the handle in his right hand.

"Good," Simon affirmed. "And if you remember which hole the buckle went in, you won't have to check that each time."

"It was the sixth," Jarod responded immediately, hiding a smile, having already worked this out for himself.

Simon laughed. "You won't be so cocky in an hour, I can promise you that." He bent down to pat the dog. "Okay, Charlie, forward."

Before the word was even completed, Charlie had taken off, and Jarod found himself almost being dragged along the path. At the gate, the dog stopped so abruptly that Jarod had to take another step, putting a hand on the fence to balance himself.

"Did I miss the part where it says we're training for the Olympics?" the man gasped.

The trainer opened the gate and stepped out onto the footpath with a chuckle. "You will have slowed your usual pace of walking since losing your vision, Jarod. This is getting you back to what you were before."

"I've never walked that fast in my life," Jarod protested indignantly. "Run, maybe, but nothing that fast could ever be counted as a 'walk'." 

"With the leg injury you had, it will have reduced your fitness," Simon reminded him as they began rapidly walking down the street. "In a few days, you'll barely notice it."

"In a few days, I'll be on the verge of collapse," Jarod retorted somewhat acidly.

"Garbage," Simon shot back. "After you and Charlie start working together properly, you won't even notice it."

Somewhat resentfully, Jarod tried to keep up with the pace that the dog set, finding it difficult. The walking he had been doing had seemed to be slower than his speed before the accident, but with no visual cues to guide him, it had been difficult to be sure. But it was the attitude of the man training him that Jarod found hardest to deal with. There was no sympathy, no sign of any understanding of his situation, and no acceptance of his limitations.

After two hours of walking into walls and off curbs, Jarod felt himself seething with rage. He was grateful when they returned to the building and he could go up to his room.

Letting the door slam shut behind him, Jarod sat down on the bed with such force that it gave a loud groan, glaring in the direction of the floor. He didn't know what he resented more - that he was finding something hard, or that he didn't seem to be getting any help with overcoming his limitations. The dog came over after a moment and pressed up against his legs with a soft whine, but the man ignored him and eventually the animal went over to its bed, flopping down onto it with a sigh.

"Can I come in?" asked a voice from the doorway, making the man jump.

"You already appear to be," he muttered.

Simon shut the door and sat down. After visually examining the blind man for a moment, with understanding in his eyes, although the man couldn't see it, he spoke. "Listen, Jarod, you've got two choices," he stated. "You can be a man, or a blind man. If you're happy to be a blind man, take that white cane of yours and catch the next plane home. But if you want your life to be as close to normal as it was before the accident that robbed you of your vision, you have to learn to work with Charlie. He's been trained and knows what to do to help you get around. You still have to learn. He's going to be the one to give you back your independence, not me. If you're going to rely on me to tell you everything, you'll never be independent. The best way for me to help you is to let you make mistakes, because then you will learn, and quickly."

After a prolonged period of silence, Simon stood up. "It's your choice," he commented. "If you want to leave, nobody will stop you. But if you want your life back, you need to put up with the bruises." He smiled slightly as he opened the door. "Lunch is in ten minutes."

There was a soft click as the door shut and then Jarod raised his head. Exhaling slowly, he let his arms fall from their previous position, crossed on his chest, to lie in his lap. The words that Simon had said echoed in his head, and he knew they were true.

A man or a blind man.

Jarod straightened his shoulders as he made his decision, hearing a sound off to his right that suggested the dog had raised his head and was watching him. Turning his head towards the corner, he half-smiled.

"Well, we won't get anywhere without practice, will we Charlie?"

At the words, the dog jumped to his feet, and, as he felt something solid against his leg, Jarod realized that he had never removed the harness. Standing, he rubbed a point on his leg which still bore a scar from his operation, and which had been aching since coming into contact with a fence, before taking a firm hold of the handle.

Opening the door, Jarod followed the dog out into the corridor and locked his room. Pocketing the key, he turned his attention to the animal waiting eagerly at his heels, the dog's long tail brushing his leg at regular intervals.

"Find the stairs, Charlie. Let's get out of here." 

By paying careful attention to what was happening around him, as well as his memory of what the area contained, Jarod found himself able to preempt what the Seeing Eye dog was going to do. A feeling of satisfaction welled up in him as they walked along the streets, listening to the snatches of conversation he heard from people he passed and ensuring that he counted the curbs so that he would be able to find his way back.

 

* * *

Simon left the dining room with a feeling of disappointment. He was usually able to predict the temperament and likelihood of success of his clients, and had picked Jarod as one who would definitely succeed. Getting out of the elevator on the relevant floor, he went along to the door of the man's room, ready with an offer to help him pack. Simon's brow furrowed at the silence as he knocked on the door and, after a minute, tried the handle. When it proved to be locked, he went to the stairs and rapidly descended them to the lobby.

The receptionist looked up as he appeared, raising an eyebrow at the expression on his face and the concerned look he shot at the rack of keys.

"Who're you looking for?"

"Jarod Crawford," he told her. "Have you seen him in the last hour?"

"You know," a voice commented airily, "you really should try to be on time, Simon. What kind of an example does it set to your students, if you're late?"

The receptionist laughed before leaning forward to murmur, "I believe you'll find Mr. Crawford right behind you."

"Thanks," he told her drily. "I figured that one out for myself." Turning, he gave Jarod a gentle slap on the arm. "Thanks to you, too, for scaring me like that."

Jarod stretched out his left arm in a gesture of innocence, the dimples in his cheeks revealing his struggle not to laugh. "What'd I do?"

"Never mind." Simon held the door open. "Shall we go?"

"Can we find somewhere to eat?" the other man suggested as they walked down the path to the gate. "I'm starved."

"We-ell," the trainer remarked, "I'm not sure you deserve it."

"Hey, come on," Jarod protested, reaching out his left hand for the latch and finding it easily. "I missed lunch, remember?"

"And it serves you right," Simon retorted, following the man and dog through the gate. "I really wasn't planning to do restaurants until tomorrow."

"So what did you have planned for this afternoon?"

"The same as what we did this morning."

Jarod's lips twitched. "Well, if we get through that really fast, can we find somewhere to eat?"

"You have a one-track mind," Simon complained.

"Only when I'm this hungry." He rubbed his stomach. "Tell you what. My shout. I know a really good place."

"Oh, really?" The other man gave him an incredulous look. "And this 'place' your magic psychic powers showed you is where?"

Bending down, Jarod whispered in the dog's ear. As soon as the man's hand had firm hold of the harness again, Charlie was off, Simon following. At the first curb, the trainer was ready to give his usual instruction but the words died on his lips when the man stopped as the dog did, waiting until the road was clear, before giving the order that soon had them on the pavement on the other side of the road.

"Are you there, Simon, or did we leave you back at the house?" Jarod joked, as the other man remained silent. "Charlie, stop. Letis just make sure we didn't lose him."

The dog halted on the directive, and Simon pulled up beside the other man, staring blankly at him. Several seconds of silence passed, as Jarod's brown eyes twinkled with laughter, before the trainer could speak.

"What happened to you?!"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he retorted with a grin. "Can we get going? Time's a-wasting. Charlie, forward."

Simon was forced to take several quick steps to catch up as the two moved confidently along the pavement. Shaking his head incredulously, he followed them to a roadside cafe in a street along which they had not yet traveled during the hours of instruction. Becoming somewhat suspicious, the trainer sat down, seeing that Jarod was, with difficulty, suppressing the urge to laugh.

"Go ahead," Simon told the other man acidly. "Smirk. Otherwise you'll do yourself an injury of some sort. But at least take care of your dog first." 

Jarod grinned as Charlie curled up underneath the chair. "How can I? You haven't taught me that part yet."

 

* * *

"You're moping," a voice from the doorway remarked, and Nicole looked up to find Ann, her arms folded on her chest, laughingly glaring at her.

"I'm not moping," she contradicted immediately. "I'm - thinking."

Ann snorted, coming into the room and sitting down in the chair on the other side of the desk with a grin. "Face it, you're missing him."

"That doesn't mean I'm moping," Nicole retorted, standing to put away the file on her most recent patient.

"You're just quiet, withdrawn, solitary - you don't even come down to lunch anymore!"

"And the food here is such a temptation, I don't know how I manage not to eat it."

"When did he last call?"

Nicole raised an eyebrow. "None of your business."

At this juncture, the cell phone on the desk rang. Ann tried to grab it, but Nicole was quicker and snatched it away.

"My reaction time was always faster than yours," she teased her friend as she activated the call. "Nicole Austen."

"Hi," a deep voice murmured in her ear. "Is this a bad time?"

"No," Nicole told him. "Ann was just leaving."

"Yes, apparently Ann was just leaving," her friend added, laughing, as she stood up. "Say hello to Mystery Man for me."

"I will, if he calls," the brunette shot back. When Ann was gone, Nicole sat down, twirling a strand of hair around her finger as she spoke. "How's it going?"

"Better," Jarod admitted. "How about you?"

"The day just improved out of sight," she smiled. "But I'm looking forward to you being back."

"Me, too," he confessed. "How's Toby?"

"Still sulking when I first get home, until I feed him."

"Maybe I should try that too," the man laughed.

"It wouldn't work."

"Why not?"

"I don't feed you," she reminded him, grinning, as she turned the chair to stare out of the window of her office. "You feed me."

Darkness Series
Part 9: After Dark


Jarod felt the warm breath of the dog on his face before he was properly awake, and reached up to push him away.

“Charlie,” he mumbled sleepily, trying to roll over. “It can’t be 5:30 yet. Go ‘way.”

When nudging the man with his nose and then a paw failed to illicit the appropriate response, Charlie began to vigorously lick Jarod's face, resulting in the man sitting up immediately.

“You are a demanding creature,” he complained, reaching out to gently tug on the dog’s ear. “I guess you want to go for a run, huh?”

Jumping off the bed, Charlie enthusiastically ran over to the far side of the room as Jarod got out of bed, laughing.

“Okay, okay, give me time to get dressed first.”

A dull thud at his feet made Jarod reach down to find one of his sneakers on the floor, and the man picked it up, waving it in the direction from which he could hear the dog snuffling.

“Socks first, Charlie, then shoes. And tracksuit too.”

Waiting for the other shoe, Jarod checked his watch. “I thought so,” he grumbled. “It’s not five yet! What on earth are you waking me at this hour for? I could have had half an hour longer to sleep.”

Knowing that there would be no peace if he returned to bed, Jarod changed into his tracksuit and pulled on his shoes before running a comb through his hair. Walking over to the door, he took the harness and knelt down beside the dog, buckling it on and then standing again. Charlie leading the way, the two silently made their way down the stairs and to the back door of the building.

“You’re up early this morning, Mr. Crawford,” one of the boys working at the Institute remarked as he opened the door and followed them outside.

“Blame Charlie,” Jarod retorted with a grin. “Personally, I’d have been happy to still be asleep, but no, he wanted to get going.”

“Have a good day,” the boy remarked, laughing, before heading for the kennels in which the dogs that were still being trained lived.

Charlie led Jarod to the area in the grounds where, during the past few weeks, they had been running daily, and the man unbuckled the harness, knowing that, while he kept to the path, he couldn’t get lost.

“Off you go, you demanding creature,” he directed Charlie good-naturedly. After hearing the dog’s paws on the gravel up ahead, Jarod stretched for several minutes and then began his jog. Before he had gone far, however, he heard the dog return, dumbstruck when Charlie pushed up against Jarod's legs, forcing him to stop.

“What is it?” he demanded, bending down to pat the animal. “You want a run, so let’s have one.”

Even as he straightened, however, Charlie once more threw himself against Jarod's legs, forcing him back until the man almost fell. As Jarod stumbled at the unexpected pressure, the dog seized the harness in his teeth, pushing it firmly into Jarod's hand. At the same instant, a voice could be heard calling from behind them.

“Jarod! Jarod!”

The insistent voice made Jarod turn as he regained his balance. Charlie threw himself at the blind man’s legs, forcing him forwards, and a firm hand grasped Jarod's shoulder to prevent him from falling on his face.

“What on earth is going on?” Jarod demanded impatiently, rapidly recovering from his shock at both Charlie and Simon’s actions. “Are you both insane?”

“They were pruning the trees along here yesterday afternoon,” the trainer explained bluntly as the dog sat almost on top of Jarod's feet, panting for breath. “Because it wasn’t supposed to rain last night, they left the pruning equipment out here. If you’d fallen over one of the cables scattered on the ground right in front of you, you probably would’ve got a hedge-trimmer in the face.”

Jarod sank to his knees on the path as he realized what could have happened if Charlie had failed to respond so promptly. Pulling the dog closer, he buried his face in the soft ruff of hair around his neck, feeling Charlie try to lick his face, whining softly at the man’s silence.

“Good boy,” he murmured almost automatically, feeling himself beginning to tremble.

“I was planning to grab you before you went out,” Simon explained, kneeling beside the man and dog. “But by the time I got to your room, you were already gone. One of the boys told me he saw you heading out.”

Raising his head, Jarod straightened up, slowly rising to his feet. Simon placed a hand on his shoulder, his voice revealing his concern.

“You okay?”

“Uh huh.”

Nodding numbly, Jarod fastened the harness on the dog, which waited patiently at his feet. Simon moved to his left-hand side and offered Jarod his arm, escorting him back to his room.

“There’s still more than an hour until breakfast,” he reminded the other man gently. “Take a break. This won’t get you out of your session later, you know. I’m going to be just as harsh as ever, even if it is the final time.”

Smiling weakly, Jarod let himself into his room, closing the door and walking over to his bed, lying down and feeling Charlie curl up on the bed next to him. Forcibly stopping himself from simulating what could have occurred if the dog hadn’t reacted so well to his training, Jarod started regularly stroking the dog’s head, controlling his breathing and trying to slow his heart rate as it pounded in his ears. Sliding off his shoes, Jarod curled up beside his dog, one arm around the animal’s neck, and closed his eyes.

* * *

“I’ll give you a hand with your bags to the check-in desk, if you like, Mr. Crawford,” the driver proposed.

“Thanks, that’d be great,” Jarod responded as he got out of the car, feeling Charlie standing stiffly in his harness, ignoring the turmoil of the airport. When Jarod heard the trunk lid being closed, he returned his attention to the Seeing Eye dog. “Find the entrance, Charlie.”

The doors slid open in front of him, feeling the warmth of the heating on his face as a contrast to the cold weather outside.

“This way, Mr. Crawford,” the driver directed from off to the right. Charlie immediately went in the same direction, Jarod following. At the ticket counter, the sightless man provided the necessary identification before the driver touched him on the arm. “I’ll leave you to it, Mr. Crawford. You’ll be fine from here on in.”

“Yes, I know,” Jarod responded, placing his hand on the dog’s head. “Thanks for your help.”

Hearing the man walk away, Jarod turned his attention back to the woman at the ticket desk, who placed the boarding card in his waiting hand.

“Gate 5, sir. Boarding will start in half an hour.”

“Thank you.” He took the ticket and card, putting it into his pocket, before picking up his cabin bag and turning away. “Charlie, we’ve still got some time. How about a coffee?”

* * *

“Jarod!”

The voice called him eagerly from the left but, feeling that Charlie hadn’t veered to the side as he turned, Jarod guessed there must be a barrier in the way and followed the dog, suddenly feeling Nicole’s arms flung around him. Charlie stopped abruptly as Jarod dropped his bag, returning the woman’s embrace.

“Hi,” he murmured into her ear.

“You’re late,” she scolded, picking up his bag.

“Hey, it wasn’t my fault,” he protested indignantly. “I wasn’t the pilot!”

Nicole squeezed his arm as she laughed. “Ann wanted to come too, but she had to work.”

“I’d rather just have you,” Jarod told her softly, kissing her fingers, before turning his attention to his dog. “Charlie, find the luggage carousel.”

At once, the dog stepped forward and Nicole had to increase her usual pace to keep up with them.

“I didn’t know we were running a race,” she complained breathlessly, as Charlie finally halted at the conveyor belt, along which the flight’s luggage was already beginning to appear.

“You’ll get used to it,” Jarod laughed. “I did.”

Nicole looked down at the dog, which was keeping an eye on the various bags. “Not particularly friendly, is he?”

“He’s working,” Jarod reminded her. “Wait ‘till we get home and you’ll have him in your lap.”

“That’s Toby’s spot,” Nicole laughed. “But maybe they could share.”

At this juncture, Charlie gently nudged Jarod's leg with his nose. “That’s mine,” the man stated immediately. “Nicole, would you…?”

Lifting the bag off the carousel, she turned to stare at him. “Are you telling me that dog could tell which suitcase was yours?”

“Of course.” Jarod shrugged, grinning as he gently patted the dog’s head. “He even helped me to pack it, didn’t you, Charlie?”

* * *

Carrying one of the bags into the room, Jarod placed it on his old bed and opened it, starting to take out some of the clothes.

“Do you need any clothes washed?”

“I did a load yesterday,” he told her.

“You?” Nicole protested. “You, wash? The days of miracles are still with us!”

Not responding verbally to this, although Jarod couldn’t help grinning, he began putting away his things. Feeling the furry head nudging his leg, the man bent down beside the dog.

“It’s okay, Charlie. I haven’t forgotten you. I’ll find somewhere to put your things just as soon as I finish here, okay?”

Charlie enthusiastically licked his face and, straightening with a laugh, Jarod wiped his cheek.

“I’m going to have to start carrying a towel.”

“That’s a small price to pay,” Nicole remarked quietly, stroking the dog’s head as he walked over to her, thrilled by the look of happiness in Jarod's eyes.

“Maybe you’re right.” Jarod took the last clothes out of the bag and placed them in the drawer, closing it with a bang. “Did you have plans for dinner?”

“Ann invited us around to their house.” Nicole wrapped her arm around his as they went out of the bedroom and towards the living room.

“Charlie, too?” the man asked, his eyes dancing as the animal padded at his heels.

“Well, of course,” Nicole laughed. “We can’t have one without the other anymore, can we?”

* * *

Jarod stretched lazily as the alarm clock jangled on Nicole’s bedside table, feeling her reach out to turn it off. The mattress bent as she sat up and then got out of bed. He could hear her pulling on a bathrobe and grinned.

“You know how sorry I feel for you, don’t you?”

“Oh, yes,” she responded mockingly. “Your sympathy is so affluent as to be non-existent.”

“Well,” he remarked, rolling onto his side, “would you mind keeping the noise down a bit? Some of us are trying to sl – “

The sentence was cut short when, without warning, a pillow hit him in the face. Jarod instinctively clutched it to stop it from knocking the glass of water off his bedside table, hearing the footsteps hurry away down the hall as she fled. He laughed, tucking the pillow under his head and settling back against it. After some time, while he was drowsing comfortably, the mattress bent and Jarod reached down a hand to feel the furry head that was pushing impatiently against his leg.

“Not right now, Charlie,” he told the dog. “For today, I’m going to enjoy not getting up early.”

“Early!” a voice snorted from the doorway. “For your information, it’s almost seven.”

“And that means I’m about to lose your company for the day,” he told Nicole in mournful tones as she sat down on the edge of the bed, trying to hide a smile that threatened to quirk the corners of his mouth.

“You’ve had four weeks without my company,” she reminded him. “I thought it’d take time for you to get used to me being around again.”

“But I don’t have my day all planned out, with walks and exercises,” he reminded her, sitting up. “I have to find things to do.”

“I’m sure you’ll manage.” Nicole leaned forward, kissing him. ”And I shouldn’t be very late, unless an emergency crops up.”

“Anything specific you want for dinner?”

“Surprise me,” she told him. Standing up, she bent down to kiss him again, breaking away as his hand slipped around the back of her neck. “I have to go to work.”

“Just wondering what I could use to tempt you to stay,” Jarod grinned. “But I guess, if you prefer work to me…”

“You never know,” she teased from the doorway. “I might find another patient to bring home.”

“They can have my bed,” he told her obligingly, “as long as I get to keep this one…”

* * *

Strapping on the harness, Jarod checked for his wallet and keys before pulling the door shut after himself, hearing it lock. Grinning as he followed Charlie down the stairs, Jarod remembered when he had accidentally locked himself out of the house and had had to wait until Nicole came home, hours later, so that she could let him back in. At the first curb, the Seeing Eye dog stopped with a soft whine and the man realized he had given Charlie no directions.

“We’re just exploring for a bit,” he told the dog. “Turn right and let me know when we get to the shops.”

Following the animal along the streets, Jarod was astonished to find himself passing the park so quickly, recognizing it from a particular area of broken pavement.

“Stop, Charlie,” he directed. “We’ll go in here. Find me a bench and then you can have a run.”

Obediently, the dog led him to the closest bench and, after undoing the straps, Jarod lifted off the harness before checking his watch. In disbelief, he checked it a second time, amazed to find that it had taken less than a third of his usual time to reach the park.

Suddenly, a cold nose on the hand he was about to put into his pocket alerted him to the fact that Charlie had returned.

“What is it?” he remarked with a knowing grin. “What do you want, Charlie?”

The dog butted him impatiently and Jarod produced the ball he had stuffed into his pocket as he left the house.

“Is there anything I do you don’t know about?” he complained. “Okay, here you go.”

Throwing the ball towards the middle of the park, Jarod heard the familiar sound of Charlie’s tags and collar jingling, first growing quickly fainter and then returning. He threw the ball again and again, until he began to feel cold. Standing, he quickly felt Charlie beside him and fastened on the harness again.

“Find a butcher, Charlie.”

Immediately, the dog set off and Jarod felt himself warming up quickly, making a mental note to buy a pair of fingerless gloves so that he could keep his hands warm and still feel the subtler movements of the harness. Charlie suddenly stopped, and Jarod could smell raw meat as he pushed open the door, hearing the welcome of the shopkeeper, to whom Nicole had introduced him several months earlier when Jarod had begun doing the majority of cooking in the house.

* * *

Hearing the front door click, Jarod got up from the sofa and walked into the kitchen to get the dinner out of the oven. Before he could do so, however, Nicole’s arms slid around his waist and her cold lips brushed his cheek.

“You’re lovely and warm,” she remarked, snuggling up against him. “Had a good day?”

“It was good, it’s now wonderful,” he told her, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her on the forehead. “How was yours?”

“Busy.” She gave him one final squeeze and then slipped out of his arms. As he got the tray of meat out of the oven, he heard her opening the fridge. “But luckily no surgery.”

“I could fall down the stairs or something, if you’re missing it,” he remarked with a grin, stepping aside to let her serve out the meat he had already carved and getting the vegetables out of the steamer. “Would that help?”

“Don’t even joke about it,” Nicole retorted acidly, carrying the plates through to the table. “But I don’t think Charlie will let you.”

“Probably not,” he agreed, checking that he knew where his drink and cutlery were before sitting down at the table. “I made lemon meringue pie for dessert, so leave space.”

“And did you use add salt or sugar this time?” Nicole queries in tones of suppressed laughter. “Or were you going to try something really different today, like mustard?”

“Well, if you label the jar incorrectly, what do you expect?” he demanded. “I can’t help it that your Braille is slipping.”

Laughing, they began to eat.

* * *

Jarod gathered his books and slid them into the bag he carried, hoisting it onto his back, before reaching for Charlie’s harness. As he stood up, however, a hand came to rest on his arm.

“Do you have a minute?”

”Sure.” Jarod followed the professor along the hall, taking a seat when its position was described to him. There was a moment of silence after the other man sat down, which Jarod, his unseeing eyes twinkling behind his dark glasses, finally broke. “Am I right in thinking you have concerns?”

“Actually, yes,” the other man admitted. “I don’t want to sound overly negative, but…”

“But you can’t imagine how I could practice medicine when I can’t see,” Jarod finished for him. “I can appreciate that that could be a slight handicap.”

“Not only that,” the lecturer added. “I also noticed that you weren’t taking notes. Even the most advanced students would find it impossible to succeed without that. So I’ve reached two possible conclusions. I’d like you to tell me which, if either, is correct.”

Jarod nodded, his brain already presenting the scenarios that he, in the opposite position, would have come up with.

“First,” the professor began, “you’re already a qualified doctor, in which case you’re here to check up on my teaching techniques. If that’s the truth, I would really prefer to know.”

“I can assure you, with a clear conscience, that I’m not a qualified doctor,” Jarod told him firmly, grateful that the wording meant he didn’t have to lie. “Nor am I here to test you in any way.”

“My only other conclusion was that you actually have no interest in practicing medicine. I don’t have a problem with students sitting in on the class, but I do prefer to know so that I can direct my attention to those who will benefit more from my teaching.”

Again, Jarod nodded. “That’s certainly a very understandable attitude,” he commented. “But that isn’t appropriate for me either.” He leaned forward slightly. “But what about the scenario that I’ve been taping the lecture rather than writing it down? After all, typing Braille is a lot slower than the shorthand notes I imagine most students take.”

“Are you?” Professor Davidson demanded. “Again, I wouldn’t have a problem with it, but I’d prefer to know.”

“No.” Jarod shook his head. “No, I’m not. Your lecture is up here.” He tapped the side of his head. “Notes, except in Braille, aren’t any use for me, so it’s easier to remember it than to try and write it down. I already lose the benefits of what you write on the board so I don’t want to lose more when I’m trying to remember what you just said and so miss what you say at the moment I write.”

“I’m sorry to sound skeptical,” the other man began, “but I find it difficult to believe that anyone is simply able to remember an entire two-hour lecture.”

Unable to help smiling, Jarod began reciting the lecture from memory. After the first ten minutes, he stopped, waiting for the other man to comment, but there was only silence.

“Professor?” he prompted.

“H… how did you…?”

“I’ve been practicing,” Jarod explained, “ever since losing my sight.” He carefully omitted the long years when he had been required to provide such feats of memory almost daily.

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Graham Davidson muttered in disbelief. “In forty-five years…”

“But it’s already been scientifically proven that humans only use about ten percent of their brains,” Jarod stated evenly. “And such feats of memory aren’t all that different from memorizing an entire pack of cards – easier, even, because the subject is related all the way through. My disability is also my advantage: I can’t see, so I don’t have any visual distractions.”

“That’s true,” Graham murmured.

“I just want to study,” Jarod clarified. “I like study, I enjoy learning new things, and it’s something I can do, even with the limitations on my life. I know that, if I qualify…”

“There’s not much danger of you failing, with a skill like that,” Graham told him somewhat tartly, and Jarod smiled.

“When I qualify,” he corrected, “I won’t be able to practice. But I’m not doing it for the right to hang my certificate on the wall and treat the patients. I’m doing it so that I’ve got something to focus on. I like new challenges, new interests. I was getting bored, so I thought I’d start to study again. And medicine is something that appeals to me. My partner is a doctor, so she was very encouraging.”

“How many other lectures do you have today?”

“Five,” Jarod told him. He checked his watch. “One in half an hour.”

“You’re enrolled in far more than the permitted number of subjects,” Graham remarked, having brought up Jarod's student record on his computer. “How did you get permission to do that?”

“I explained the situation,” he responded. “When they knew that, and probably suspecting, as you did, that I was here for fun rather than to qualify, they allowed it.”

“And you’re seriously going to complete these?”

“If I don’t go broke from the costs first,” Jarod joked. “Is there anything wrong with that?”

“If you did finish all these, you could complete you medical degree in under a year.”

“I’d be doing more subjects if they didn’t clash.”

Graham shot a sharp look at the younger man opposite, seeing a small smile on his face. “Do you think you can?”

“I can’t think of any reason why I can’t,” Jarod responded seriously. “And if I don’t pass the exams then I’ll find something else to do. Or sit them again later. I’ve got plenty of time. As far as I know, I’ll be like this forever.”

“And if you did pass, what then? Law?”

“Probably engineering first. It’s always interested me more.”

Professor Davidson chuckled. “You’re actually quite serious about this, aren’t you?”

“Completely.” The humor vanished from Jarod's face. “I hope you don’t think I’m doing this for some publicity stunt. Believe me, that’s the last thing I want to happen.”

“We’d be hard-pressed to keep any student out of the papers if they finished their entire medical degree in under one year,” Graham told him drily.

“Not if nobody but us knows,” Jarod reminded him. “By now, no one will remember that I’m doing extra classes. And most of the ones that clashed were done by you anyway.”

Graham made the necessary leap of logic. “You want me to teach you those extra classes.”

“Only if it’s not too much trouble.” Jarod sat back in the chair. “You could always just give me the books to read and I’ll find someone who can translate them to Braille for me.”

“Actually, we have had visually impaired students before,” Graham remarked. “Many of the books have already been translated.”

Jarod nodded, aware of this fact, which had been his primary reason for selecting this medical school, but deciding not to mention it. “Would it be possible for you to give me the books and set me the exams? If I pass, we could always send a slightly doctored version of my student record to the Medical Board so that I could qualify.”

“And what then?”

“I could specialize.” The younger man shrugged slightly. “There are almost limitless fields, and if I did research, I could even work actively.”

“How would we get around the aspect of your internship?” Graham queried. “There’s no way you could qualify without it. And few patients would be happy to be treated by a visually-impaired doctor.”

“If we faked a student record, it shouldn’t be too difficult to fake a year’s internship, should it?”

“How many times have you cheated the system?” Professor Davidson queried meditatively. “To me, it sounds as if you’re quite practiced at it.”

“I’ve done it once or twice,” Jarod confessed. “But not lately.”

There was a long moment of silence, during which Jarod believed he was being scrutinized by the man opposite.

“This isn’t something I’ve ever done before,” the man began, in a tone revealing to Jarod that he had won. “But I guess there’s not harm in seeing how far we could go. I might even use you as a case study, anonymously, of course.”

“If that’s something I could do to repay the favour,” Jarod shrugged, “then, as long as you could promise it would be anonymous, I can’t see why not.”

“What are you worried about, Jarod?” Graham asked gently. “If that’s the way you want it, I’ve got no problems, of course, but why wouldn’t you want acknowledgement for something that is a one-of-a-kind gift?”

It’s not, Jarod said silently to himself. I could provide you with others. But that’s not a thing I want you to know about.

“Maybe the fame would be nice,” he agreed aloud, “but there’s the other side, where you lose your privacy and rights and become some organization’s guinea-pig. I don’t want to be torn apart, just to see what makes me tick.”

“Fair enough,” stated the other man brusquely. “Give me a little time and I’ll make space for you in my schedule every few days so that we can talk about your subjects and you can ask me any questions you might have. Come by,” he consulted his diary, ”this time tomorrow and I’ll provide you with some books.”

Jarod smiled. “I really appreciate this, Professor.”

“Graham,” the man corrected. “As we’re going to work together that closely.”

Jarod offered his hand as he stood and felt it firmly shaken before wrapping his fingers around the harness as Charlie leapt to his feet. “Do you think I should continue going to the lectures?”

“Whatever you prefer,” Graham told him. “See if you have the time and inclination.”

“I’ll do that.”

Jarod sent a grateful smile in the other man’s direction before farewelling him and leaving the office. Humming softly, he asked the way to the next lecture theater and then passed the details on to Charlie, who immediately headed off in that direction. Meanwhile, in his mind, Jarod broke down the lecture down into its salient points and committed those to memory. Slipping into the room, he sat down at the back, where he would be least noticed by the lecturer, not wanting to have a second such discussion in one day, before sitting back to enjoy the lecture.

* * *

Stepping off the bus, Jarod heard the doors hydraulically close behind him before following the dog along the road and around the corner, quickly walking the three blocks to the house. Letting himself in, he thankfully dumped the heavy bag onto the desk in his old bedroom and then bent down to remove Charlie’s harness.

“Okay,” he told the dog, giving Charlie a friendly pat on the flank. “I’ll meet you in the kitchen in ten minutes and we’ll have a snack.”

Charlie gave him an enthusiastic lick and bounded out of the room. Laughing, Jarod unpacked the books from his back and stacked them in piles according to subject on the shelf above his desk. Checking that the bag was empty, he placed it on the floor and then retrieved a number of notepads and the machine that would produce Braille labels for him from a drawer before going to the kitchen and collecting a handful of dog-biscuits and a package of Oreos. Filling a glass with milk, he put the objects on a tray and carried it through to the living room.

With Charlie curled up on the floor, crunching loudly on the biscuits, Jarod meditatively chewed on his own snack, his eyes staring unseeingly ahead on him.

“Penny for them,” a voice stated from the doorway and he jumped violently.

“Home already?”

“I’ve got two hours free,” Nicole told him as she walked over to sit beside him on the sofa. “So I thought I’d find out how the day went.”

“Better than we thought,” he replied, curling an arm around her shoulders and feeling her hair tickle his cheek. “He was very understanding.”

“He probably thinks you’re some escaped loony, spinning a tall story.”

Jarod raised an eyebrow, grinning. “Is that so far wrong?”

“While I agree that the Centre sounds like a lunatic asylum,” she conceded, “I somehow can’t see you as crazy, no matter how hard I look.”

“You’re just biased,” he teased. “I’m sure Ann thinks I’m crazy.”

“Whose opinion is more important?” Nicole demanded. “Hers or mine?”

Jarod tilted her chin up so he could softly kiss her lips. “You tell me,” he murmured. “Why would I take any notice of Ann when I can take notice of you instead?”

Giggling, she twisted in his arms so that she was lying across his legs, looking up into his face. “I hope so.”

“I know so.” He gently ran the fingers of one hand through her hair. “When did you say you had to be back?”

“A while,” she admitted softly, stroking his cheek with the backs of her fingers. “Why, did you have anything special in mind?”

* * *

Jarod pulled the sheet out of his Braille typewriter and slipped it into the folder, quickly checking that the pages were in order before shutting it and pushing it and the relevant textbook aside. As he did so, a pair of hands came over his eyes and he laughed.

“Oh no,” he joked. “How will I ever manage now?”

Nicole giggled, lowering her hands so that her arms rested around his neck, her cheek pressed against his.

“Finished?”

“Just.” He curled his arms up behind her head, hugging her somewhat awkwardly.

“Do you know where Toby is?” she asked curiously. “I haven’t seen him since I got home.”

“He’s been playing with my pens,” the man told her, nudging the furry bundle under the desk with his bare foot, at which the kitten gave an indignant squawk. “I’ve knocked a few off and, from the sounds of it, he’s been chasing them all over the room.”

Laughing, Nicole released her arms from around his neck to pick up the cat, which burrowed into her arms. “Was Charlie jealous?”

“Do you see him in here?” Jarod queried, grinning. “He went off to sulk an hour ago. I’d better go make it up to him, or next time he might walk me under a bus.”

Nicole laughed again. “Feed him. That’ll work.”

“Oh?” Jarod arched an eyebrow as he turned in the chair. “And how do you know that?”

“Because it works with you,” she teased, fleeing the room immediately as he got out of the chair with a mock-growl.

* * *

Jarod tied his scarf around his neck before wrapping his fingers around the harness.

“We’re going to the hospital,” he told the dog, keeping his other hand clenched tightly around the bandage he had managed to find, but hadn’t been able to put on properly, feeling his palm throb. “And quickly, Charlie.”

Almost jogging, they managed to get there in fifteen minutes, and Jarod was about to ask his way to Emergency when he heard a familiar voice.

“What are you doing here, Mystery Man?”

“Just the person I want,” he told Ann with a somewhat sheepish smile, delicately extracting his left hand from his jacket pocket and holding it out in her direction. “Any chance of a few stitches while I’m here?”

He could hear the horrified gasp as she grabbed his hand and wrapped the bandage more tightly around it, gently steering him in the direction of the building as she maintained pressure on the cut, which continued to ooze blood.

“What did you do?”

“I was carving and I dropped the knife,” he admitted. “I thought I knew which end was which when I picked it up, but I obviously made a mistake.”

“And ended up with a deep four inch laceration,” she told him as she guided him in through the doors, Charlie following them. “Nicole will kill you. Why didn’t you call an ambulance?”

“Didn’t think I needed one,” Jarod responded with a careless shrug. “I probably got here faster on my own two feet than I would have on wheels anyway.”

“One day you might want to consider the fact that other people can sometimes be helpful to you,” she suggested somewhat acidly, directing him into a cubicle.

“Well, I didn’t try to stitch it up on my own,” he retorted. “Not that I didn’t think about it.”

“I’ll bet,” Ann snorted. “Get Dr. Austen down here,” she directed the nurse who had followed them into the cubicle.

“If she’s not busy,” Jarod added before the woman could leave the room.

“Regardless,” Dr. Stevens contradicted. “For heaven’s sake, Jarod, don’t you think she’d want to know?”

“If she was in the middle of operating, it might constitute a slight distraction,” Jarod reminded her. “Can you just get it sewn up so it’s not this messy when she sees it?”

“I think she’d spot it anyway,” Ann retorted as she began scrubbing her hands at the sink. “Did you realize your jacket’s blood-stained?”

“What color is it?” he demanded suspiciously. “I thought it was dark enough that it wouldn’t show.”

“Royal blue,” she told him, testing the responses in his fingers to ensure he hadn’t severed any nerves. “And it shows every drop. You’re going to have to buy a new one.”

“I’ll get black,” he grinned. “Then it won’t show so much next time.”

“There won’t be a next time,” a new voice stated firmly from the doorway, “if I have to cook dinner myself.”

“And when would you get time for that?” Jarod teased, feeling her clutch his uninjured right hand in both of hers. “Or will you just enjoy the delicious products they call ‘food’ here and leave me to starve?”

“Hold still,” Ann directed before Nicole could respond. “I’m going to give you a local anesthetic before I start to stitch this up.”

“Then you can sew his hands together so that he doesn’t do it again,” Nicole remarked, freeing one hand and slipping it around Jarod's shoulders.

”And maybe his mouth, just for a finishing touch,” Ann joked. “Okay, Jarod, I’m going to start from a spot near your thumb. Just try and relax your arm.”

“Why is it that that’s the only instruction you doctors seem capable of giving?” the man queried as his arm was strapped onto a stand so that Ann could get easy access to his hand. “Couldn’t you try to come up with something new?”

“Most of our patients aren’t repeat offenders,” Nicole reminded him, gently stroking his hair. “So we don’t usually have to use the lines more than once.”

“No wonder, considering what you use as deterrent,” he laughed. “I guess I’m just a sucker for punishment.”

“Or an attention-seeker,” Nicole teased him. “Well, at least this gets you out of the washing-up.”

“I knew he always had an ulterior motive,” Ann exclaimed in triumph as she cut off the last suture and began to bandage the wound. “Now, if you could try to obey directions this time, it might help it to heal a little faster.”

“I’ll see how unreasonable they are,” he offered cautiously.

“Men!” Ann groaned. “Right, listen and listen good, Mystery Man. One week of doing as little as you can with that hand. I’d say nothing, but you’d never do it, so just keep it to a minimum. Come back in seven days and I’ll see whether it’s ready for me to take the stitches out or not. You can take the bandages off to wash it, but get Nic to bandage it again right after and keep it bandaged. Clear?”

“As mud,” he retorted with a grin. “I’ll do my best.”

“You’ll do better than that,” Nicole ordered, “if I have to take more time off work to make sure of it.”

“I thought I wasn’t that important,” Jarod teased. “That’s what you said last time.”

Giggling, she helped him to sit up and wiped the harness clean of blood before putting it into his hand. “If you can sit still for twenty minutes,” she told him, “I’ll finish the report I was writing and then I’ll drive you both home.”

“Don’t you trust me walking?” he queried.

“I don’t trust you not to pick up the knife and keep carving as soon as you get home,” she replied quickly. “Am I right?’

“Maybe,” Jarod admitted grudgingly as he followed her into the elevator. “But dinner’s going to go cold while it waits for us – if Toby doesn’t eat it all first.”

“It won’t hurt for once.” She slipped her arm around his waist. “And if we have to, we’ll order pizza or something.”

“Hmm, maybe I should do it more often,” he remarked, pulling her slightly closer and pressing his lips to her hair.

“And maybe you shouldn’t,” she told him bluntly. “Please, Jarod, I don’t think I could cope.”

“I wasn’t trying, you know,” he told her softly as she guided him into her office. “I wouldn’t want to make you worry.”

“I know.” She stood in front of him as he sat down, reaching over to dampen a piece of gauze and using it to wipe the traces of blood off his face before kissing him. Taking down one of the Braille books from the shelf above his head, she placed it in his hand before throwing the gauze into the bin and then sitting down at her desk.

Darkness Series
Part 10: Seeing The Light


"Jarod, I need your help."

He raised his head as she walked in through the door, his legs curled up under him, as he sat in an armchair with a Braille textbook in his hands, Charlie at his feet.

"It's obviously been a bad day, Nicole." She sat down on the armrest of the chair and Jarod slid an arm around her waist, turning his closed eyes to face her. "What can I do?"

"I got a new patient today."

He raised an eyebrow. "Is that so unusual?"

"Please, Jarod. I'm serious."

"Okay, sorry. What's wrong?"

She paused and he pulled her down into his lap.

"Nicole, what is it?" He placed one hand on her cheek and gently kissed her. "Tell me what it is and how I can help."

"I want you to come and help me with a patient tomorrow."

He nodded, waiting for her to continue.

"He was playing basketball when he was knocked out. When he came around his vision was a bit blurry, and it's only got worse since. He was brought in to me, and I've found that I can correct the detached retinas."

"But he's scared the operation will leave him completely blind,” he finished for her.

Nicole nodded, her head resting on his shoulder, as Jarod considered. "What do you want me to do?"

"Convince him that it's necessary. His parents believe me when I say that the risks are small, but he says he won't go through life being dependent on a white cane or a dog."

"He should fall in love with his doctor,” Jarod told her, grinning. “Then he'd be okay."

"Would you be willing to share?"

He kissed her again, laughing. "Hmm, probably not."

* * *

Jarod slid his hand around her arm as they started to walk towards the hospital, his other hand on Charlie’s harness.

"You haven't fallen again, Jarod? Or cut yourself?"

"Hi, Phil." Jarod grinned. "No, not this time. Besides, I'd have to work a lot harder to break my leg now."

"So how's life?"

"Good. Really good."

"I'll bet."

The man smiled and then turned away from them, entering the building by another door. Nicole glared at Jarod, her voice stern.

"Since when do you call doctors by their first names?"

"Since you invite them around for dinner - Doctor Austen."

She playfully smacked him. "Behave. You're here in a professional role."

"As what?" Jarod raised an eyebrow, his expression one of innocence. "I haven't read up on this particular pretend. I don't even have a last name picked out or anything."

Nicole laughed and led him towards her office. He waited outside, chatting with her secretary, as she collected what she needed and walked with him up to the room. He stood slightly to the side, listening as a nurse reported on the condition of the patient.

"How's he doing?"

"Refusing anything we try to give him. He didn't eat dinner last night or breakfast this morning."

"Hmm, sounds familiar," Nicole commented as Jarod laughed. Outside the door, she stopped, but he spoke first.

"You go in. I'll wait until he's ready."

"You're a mind reader," Nicole told him with a smile.

"Only with you."

She squeezed his hand and then let go, walking into the room and partly shutting the door behind her so that he could no longer clearly hear what was being said until she called his name.

"Jarod!"

The man pushed the door open, hearing a clearly audible gasp as he entered the room. "Jarod? Is that you?"

"J.R.?"

Jarod’s eyes opened in surprise as he took several careful steps towards the source of the voice and then felt Nicole's hand on his arm, directing him to a chair. When he was safely seated, with Charlie lying on the linoleum at his feet, the man grinned.

"How are you doing, kiddo? It's been a while, hasn't it?"

"What happened to you?"

The man laughed. "I'm blind, of course. I have been for almost ten months."

"How?"

"I was inside a building when it collapsed."

"Jarod?"

He turned as Nicole placed a hand on his shoulder. "Yes?"

"I'm going to leave you here while I go and visit a few other patients. I'll be back in a while. Don't go wandering off on me."

"That'd be great, wouldn't it? You might never find me again." He chuckled. "Although I'm sure a certain busybody doctor in emergency would track me down and reunite us."

She laughed. "Just be good."

His eyes danced behind his dark glasses, but Jarod's voice was demure. "Yes, Doctor."

* * *

"Do you have a collection of all the people I've helped here, just so I can feel better about myself or something? First Rachel and now J.R."

She laughed. "Is he willing...?"

"As soon as you say the word,” he responded quickly, hearing the slight concern in her voice. “On the condition that I visit him every day until the bandages come off."

"Ooh, gee, that could be asking a bit much of me,” she commented. “That means I’ll have to bring you here each day."

"Not at all,” he laughed. “I'll go by taxi or walk or something. It’s not that far."

"Yes, you probably would, too," she retorted drily.

"Definitely,” Jarod agreed. “You should know, after all this time, how stubborn I am."

"Well, I did have that idea, yes," Nicole admitted.

He grinned. "If you've only got an idea then I'll have to work harder just to prove it to you."

"Oh no, please! I couldn't cope." She unlocked the car door and walked around to the other side, getting in and starting the engine. "It was bad enough when you were learning to walk again."

"Come on, that was fun," he teased.

"For you, maybe. You didn't have the job of preventing you from walking too much or too often."

"Just because you came out once at two in the morning to find me making laps of the hall..."

* * *

"Okay, J.R., last bit."

There was a moment of silence.

"I can't see,” the boy stated softly.

Nicole laughed. "It helps if you open your eyes, J.R."

He sat still for another few seconds before lifting his eyelids, gasping as a wave of color and light seemed to sweep over him.

"He can see." Jarod was leaning against the wall, his eyes closed, his arms folded and a satisfied smile on his face.

"He sure can," the doctor agreed.

Nicole fixed her eyes on the boy's face as he looked from right to left, his eyes gradually focusing on objects in the dimly lit room. For a moment, a feeling similar to regret tugged at her heart, as she wished Jarod could have a chance to experience the same thing, but she pushed it away in order to concentrate on the young man in front of her.

"J.R., I'm really sorry but we need to cover them again for a while."

"What? Why?"

"Because your eyes haven't looked at anything for the last week and so if we left them uncovered now, you'd strain them." Giving the doctor no chance to speak, Jarod provided the explanation. "It would be like spraining your ankle and not giving it a chance to heal before you played basketball on it again."

Nicole nodded in agreement. "But each day we'll lengthen the time that we leave them uncovered until you can go home and life can get back to normal, although we'll have to check that it hasn't caused any lasting damage."

The boy spoke hesitantly. "Can I... have some time now?"

Nicole consulted her watch. "You can have twenty minutes." She glanced up at the boy's mother, who had stood watching the consultation, tears standing out in her eyes. "How about if your mom and I go and get coffee while you and Jarod have a chat?"

The older man lowered himself into the seat beside the bed and waited. J.R.’s voice was hesitant.

"How… do you cope with that?"

Jarod raised an eyebrow. "I thought we had this discussion a week ago."

"But that was when I thought that maybe I'd be..."

"I know. It's different now." Jarod smiled. "I'm so glad for you, J.R."

"But you... will you ever see again?"

"I don't know." He shrugged. "It doesn't seem to matter anymore. Life goes on."

"What are you going to do?"

Jarod grinned. "I'm going to get married."

"To Dr. Austen?"

"If she accepts me," he agreed.

J.R. grinned. "You haven't asked her yet?"

"No, so no dropping hints or I'll suggest she bandages your mouth as well."

The boy laughed and then looked more closely at Jarod's face.

"You don't look that different from when I last saw you."

"Except that I can't see you," Jarod replied quietly.

"It's not fair," the young man protested.

"When has life ever been fair - to either of us?"

"I met you."

"Hey, I said fair,” Jarod joked. “Not beneficial."

J.R. laughed and Jarod grinned at the sound, turning as he heard the door open to admit the two women back into the room.

* * *

Jarod heard the rain and went into the bathroom, turning on the heater as he put a fluffy towel on the basin. He jumped as thunder crashed, eyes flying open in shock, before laughing at himself, going back into the living room and putting on a CD that was only just audible over the noise. As he sat down, something made him turn his head sharply to one side and Jarod could tell, from his knowledge of the room, that he was facing a window.

Getting up, he walked in that direction, only halting when his knees bumped into the window-seat. Jarod curled himself up on it. A flicker of light seemed to break through the dark that had made up his world for months and Jarod turned his head as the thunder loudly crashed almost immediately afterwards, tensing as a possible cause for the change flashed through his mind.

It couldn't be.

There was no way it was happening.

It had to be something else - but what?

He thought through the things he had read from material Nicole had given, him but nothing matched what he was experiencing now. Again, just before the thunder boomed, there was a faint flicker and Jarod lifted his head, fixing his eyes unseeingly on some point outside. The flickering occurred several more times before the thunder died down and he turned away from the window. It could be - it really could. If it was, then...

He stopped himself. It was useless to get all excited about something that might not happen. He’d painfully and slowly learnt the lesson of patience and he would now put it to the test. He wouldn't tell her. If it were true then he’d have lots of time. If not, he didn't want to excite her unnecessarily. He shook his head, sat back down on the sofa and picked up his book, listening to Charlie sigh as he changed position on the rug.

Several minutes later he heard her coming in through the front door and, closing his eyes again, Jarod raised his head.

"I put the radiator on in the bathroom so you can go and warm up."

Nicole came across and kissed him. "How did you know I'd get caught in it?"

"Because I know exactly what you’re wearing today and it’s not appropriate for bad such weather. Because of that, Murphy's Law said it had to happen." Jarod laughed and put out his hand to feel her wet top. "Go and get warm and dry."

"First let me light the fire. This room's freezing. You ought to have put the heater on in here too."

"I didn't notice." He shrugged. "I was enjoying the sound of the storm."

"You wouldn't have enjoyed being out in it," Nicole told him quickly.

"Which was why I didn't go,” he laughed. “I'm no fool."

"Implying that I am?" she teased.

He grinned as he listened to her strike the match. "Not at all. I was talking about voluntarily being out in it - and you had to come back to me!"

She groaned as she got up, an eye on the fire to make sure that it would remain alight. "That was awful. Honest, but awful."

"Well, as long as I was right..." he began.

"Okay, that's it. I'm going. You can waste your smart remarks on the air."

He heard her footsteps cross the parquet. Immediately he refocused his attention on the sound of the fire, hearing it crackle as the wood ignited. Opening his eyes, Jarod sensed a lightening of the darkness before him and got up, slowly walking towards it. A sudden pressure on his legs caused him to stop short, and Jarod put out a hand to the dog.

“It’s okay, Charlie,” he murmured softly. “I know it’s there.”

The place where he knew the fire must be was now almost a red haze before him. Jarod raised a hand and could tell from the heat that he was standing only a short distance from the flames and guard. Jarod understood the reason he hadn't noticed it before. Whenever he went anywhere, he wore dark glasses, and now kept his eyes closed for almost the whole time, whether inside or out. There had never been a reason for him to leave them open before this, but now he was impatient for day to arrive, so that he could look up and perhaps even see the sun. With a sigh, he turned and carefully made his way back to the chair.

* * *

Lying in bed, he heard her leave the house and start the car. She didn't wake him before she left, but sometimes he would already be up. This morning he had lain impatiently with his eyes closed as she got up and dressed. Now he pulled back the curtain that covered the windows. At once the darkness lightened, becoming a dark gray and, when he stared at a certain spot, a faint red color. Jarod exhaled slowly, suddenly realizing that his hands were trembling. It was true then. It hadn't been a mistake, or a figment of his imagination. Jarod closed his eyes and the familiar darkness returned.

Opening his eyes again, he heard a gasp as the black lifted. It took him a moment to realize that the sound had come from his own throat. Getting up, he felt his way to the bookcase in the room and pulled out a folder. His fingertips raced over the pages and found what he wanted. Recovery could take any time, from a few days to more than a year. His blindness having been somewhat shorter than Nicole’s, he could hope that his vision would be quicker than hers to come back.

Without realizing what he was doing, Jarod shut the book and replaced it on the shelf. He got his clothes and, followed by the dog, walked into the bathroom, feeling the strong sunlight on his face from the window as he turned on the shower and took off the things he wore in bed before getting under the running water. As the water fell, drops caught the sunlight and reflected it into his eyes, making points that were almost silver. He leaned against the wall, feeling the cool tiles behind his back and the warm water in front. His eyes moved rapidly, but there was no difference between one spot and another in terms of contrast. Sighing, he quickly finished showering, rinsed the suds from his hair, turned the water off and stepped out, drying himself and dressing.

* * *

Nicole's secretary looked up to find Jarod standing in the doorway, leaning against the doorjamb, with his right hand on the harness and the left in his pants pocket, and the woman smiled.

"Hi, Jarod. She's nearly done."

"That's okay." He came into the office. "Actually I wanted a chance to consult her and thought that this was as good a place as any."

"Consult her?" She raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure?"

He nodded. "There's a couple of little things I want to check up on, and besides," he grinned, "I'm looking forward to hearing her voice when she isn't half-asleep."

The woman laughed. "I'll tell her you're here."

"No," Jarod stopped her. "Don't tell her it's me. Just tell her she has a patient."

Nicole looked up as her door opened and Jarod calmly walked in, sitting down opposite her with a grin as Charlie curled up at his feet. Her tones were demanding.

"Okay, what are you doing here?"

Jarod rolled his eyes. "Consulting my doctor, of course. What's it look like?"

"Don't be smart,” she told him with a grin.

"I'm not." He paused. "Nicole, I really am here to consult you in your professional capacity."

"And does that mean I can charge you in my professional capacity as well?"

He shrugged. "If it makes you happy."

She laughed. "Okay, what's up?"

His reply was blunt. "I think I'm getting my sight back."

"You... what?" Her voice sank to a whisper. "Are you sure?"

"No. Not positive. That's why I'm here. I want you to tell me."

She sat back in the chair, staring at him. "What can you see?"

"Whereas everything was black, now it's pretty much all gray and if there's a lot of contrast, I can see stronger light as a kind of red color. Like the sun," Jarod waved a hand, "or that light on your desk."

Nicole glanced from the lamp back to him. "And when did you first notice?"

"Almost a week ago, on the day of that big storm."

She raised an eyebrow. "You waited a week and didn't tell me?"

Jarod grinned. "I waited a week and you didn't notice?"

"Hmm, good point." She laughed. "Anything else?"

"I… think I can see shadows. I was going to the park today when I heard a bike coming and then I saw a darker shape as it passed."

Nicole stood up. "All right, we'll do the normal round of tests."

He grabbed her arm as she passed. "What do you really think?"

She placed a hand on either side of his face and lowered her mouth to his. "I think soon you won't have any more regrets, ever again."

* * *

He listened to the regular sound of her breathing but Jarod couldn't sleep. All the feelings running through him were more tangled and confused than they had been on the night when he’d learned that she loved him but now, even more than then, the major one was fear. He pulled himself up in bed and got out of it, silently leaving the room and taking his keys off a hook by the back door. As he opened it, he inhaled the cold air of late October, hearing the soft pad of paws as he stepped onto the veranda, feeling the hard boards under his bare feet as he pulled the door closed behind the two of them. For a moment, Jarod felt like rushing back into the house, packing his things and taking off, but, even as he shifted in his seat, the door opened.

"Jarod, what are you doing?"

"Trying to get a tan?"

He kept his face turned away from hers, his eyes traveling slowly from right to left in the pale gray that he could now see. She came over and sat down beside him, wrapping her arms around him, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Isn't it a little early to be doing your deep thinking yet?"

"I didn't mean to wake you."

"You didn't."

He turned towards her, an eyebrow raised, and she laughed. "Okay, you did. And I want to know what's possessing you to sit out here at this hour."

"If you're chilly, we can go back in."

"I think that's a good idea. I don't want to have to nurse you through pneumonia."

"I didn't get it the last time you thought I would," Jarod reminded Nicole as he got up and followed her back into the house, Charlie trotting at his heels.

"Let's not tempt fate a second time, okay?"

Jarod sat in the living room chair, his eyes fixed on a red gleam that denoted the sunrise through the large window, listening to her shut and lock the door.

"If I didn't know better, Jarod, I’d almost have believed that you'd been planning a rapid and silent flight when I came out to find you." When he didn't reply, she came over to sit in front of him. "You weren't, were you?"

Slowly he nodded and could feel her stiffen, her voice almost a whisper. "Why?"

"I... I'm scared." His admission was low and Jarod knew he couldn’t have made it to anyone else.

"Of what?" she begged.

Jarod could hear the unshed tears in her tone, hating himself for what he’d thought about doing to her and what he was about to say. "Of you."

She drew back as though he had slapped her and he could see the movement of her silhouette in the light behind her.

"Why?"

There was a sense of great incomprehension in her tone and he turned towards her, surprised to feel the tears on his cheeks, having failed to realize that he was even crying. "Because of what's happening."

Nicole froze as the words sank in and she was able to understand what he was afraid of, mentally kicking herself for not having considered before that it was bound to happen. Although she’d been using the earlier situation as a watermark for this one, it had nevertheless been different, at least in part because she and Paul had known each other before, but now...

She moved to sit on the armrest of the chair and gathered his head in her hands. "Jarod, I will still love you after you can see again properly. I'll love you even more because you'll be able to share the other things I enjoy so much."

"Can you be so sure?"

Gently she wiped away the tears, kissing him softly on his forehead and his mouth. "There’s been times when I've felt guilty, because there's been something I’ve seen on television, or when we've been in the park that I've wanted to talk to you about, but then I’ve had to remember you weren't able to appreciate it as much as I did. When you can see again, I know that you'll be able to enjoy those things as much as I do, and I'm so looking forward to that."

Jarod wrapped his arms around her waist as she finished speaking, lowering his head so it rested on her chest. Nicole stroked his hair as he stared into the red ball that was the sun as much as he could see it. Finally she pulled away a little and looked down at him.

"Don't you think I've got reason to be concerned too, Jarod? You've never even seen me and I, at least, know what you look like."

He felt himself raised out of the negative feelings that had been weighing on him, ashamed that in the selfishness of his emotions, he hadn't even considered hers, when the teasing tone in which it had been stated struck him. He raised his head, seeing a darkened shape that he only held more tightly.

"Jarod, let's wait until it actually happens before we go making any decisions that could affect our whole lives. Deal?"

He nodded and blinked the last of the tears out of his eyes, raising his hand and holding it against her cheek.

"Deal."

* * *

Jarod opened his eyes to reveal the light gray into which he could now look and then closed them again, rolling over and slowly rubbing both hands on his temples, willing the throbbing away.

"What is it?"

"Headache," he retorted shortly.

"Another one?" She came over to sit beside him. "You've been straining your eyes again, haven't you?"

He shrugged and opened his eyes, able to make out her shape and the bright red of the shirt she was wearing, which formed a blur in his sight. As the action increased the pain in his head, he shut his eyes again with a groan.

"You lectured J.R. about the damage he’d do if he strained his eyes and then you go and do the same thing," Nicole scolded and he opened one eye, glaring at her out of it.

"Those who can, do..." he snapped.

"And those who can't should learn how," she finished for him.

He raised an eyebrow. "I don't remember that being the way the saying went."

"That's how it goes with me." Nicole stood up. "I’ll get something to make it all better. Don't run off on me now."

He grinned weakly, shutting his eyes, but sat up when, several minutes later, he felt her hands on the sides of his head.

"What...?"

"If you wriggle like that, it'll come off."

Jarod raised a hand to feel the satin material covering his eyes and opened them to darkness as he turned his head in her direction.

"Why?"

"Because it'll give your eyes a chance to heal. If you really strain them, you'll put your chances of recovery back days or even weeks. And we'll put drops in every day from now on."

"I just don't think you want me to see you at all!" Jarod proclaimed in disgust at being denied his newfound ability, despite understanding the logic in her argument.

She laughed. "Well, that could be it." Opening his hand, she put two tablets into it and closed his fingers over them. "There's a glass of water at four on your table."

He reached for it, swallowing the capsules, and lay down again, feeling her hand softly stroke his cheek, relaxing at the gentleness of her touch as the pain in his head slowly began to fade.

"Anyone would think you loved me."

She lowered her mouth to his, kissing him softly. "Maybe, just maybe, I do."

* * *

As on every other occasion, Jarod caught his breath as the light hit his open eyes, as soon as the mask was removed. For a brief moment he looked down, blinking rapidly until his pupils adjusted.

Then he looked up.

Before today, she had been behind him preparing the drops, but finally she was standing in front of him and he seized her both hands, his eyes traveling over her face as his breath caught again. Slowly, almost disbelieving, he raised his hand so that it finally came to rest on her cheek, feeling the familiar touch of her skin under his fingertips and having to use that to convince himself that it really was her.

"I thought you said that you were a boring person," he murmured in amazement.

She raised an eyebrow. "I'm not?"

"You're..." Jarod hesitated, unable to come up with a sufficient adjective. "You're indescribable."

The light coming through the window turned her brown hair auburn and it formed into large, loose curls that stopped just above her shoulders. Her eyes were coffee brown and now glowed warmly as she watched him examining her features. Her fine eyebrows framed her eyes perfectly and her cheeks glowed faintly under the intentness of his gaze as her pink lips curved into a smile.

"I hate to say 'I told you so', but..."

They both turned to the woman in the doorway, but Jarod had seen Ann on other occasions, and her features were not the novelty that those of the woman in front of him were, quickly turning his gaze back to the woman he loved, his eyes demanding an answer.

"What did she say, Nicole?"

The brunette smiled as she turned back to him, a blush making her cheeks glow more. "She said you'd fall in love with me all over again once you saw me."

Jarod smiled. "I think I just did."

* * *

Sitting in the chair, his eyes running over the furniture in the room, Jarod recalled the first day that he had been permitted to see. He had wandered vaguely around the house after she left for work, his eyes taking in the objects that sat in front of them, often without recognizing them until he was actually feeling them. He had reached for items, frequently only to miss. His perception of depth and distance was still a little poor, although she assured him it would come back, but then, when he needed to pick up something, it had been easier to close his eyes and do it in the dark. It had been frustrating but nothing more than Nicole had prepared him for and the days that had passed in which he had been able to see clearly had already made a substantial difference in all aspects of his vision and his life. Now he resettled the newly acquired glasses more firmly on his nose, got out of his chair and, followed by Charlie, left the room.

Going into the bedroom that had once been his, Jarod opened the cupboards to look at the racks of clothes that still sat there. It was strange to think that he had worn them all numerous times but with no idea of how he looked in them.

How he looked.

Jarod suddenly paused.

How did he look? He hadn't really seen himself since the morning of the bomb, having forgotten that things such as mirrors existed. Slowly, almost fearfully, he turned to the object that he knew stood in the corner.

"A mirror isn't a lot of use if you don't open your eyes."

Jarod did as he was bid, having been unable to prevent his eyelids from closing as he turned, and looked sideways to find Ann standing in the doorway, a key swinging on one finger and her green eyes dancing with laughter. He narrowed his own eyes.

"You like doing that, don't you?"

"It is kind of fun, yes." Grinning, she came into the room, running a hand through her short, blond hair. "There’s a few hours before I’ve got to be at work and I thought I'd check you were behaving yourself."

"Good,” he told her with a grin. “I want your advice."

"Wow!" She sat down suddenly on the bed. "Are you sick or something?"

He laughed as he looked at her. "No, not really. Nothing you could fix anyway."

Ann grinned, instantly understanding. "Well, what's up?"

"Want to go for a walk?"

She narrowed her eyes. "I sense an ulterior motive."

"You're right, but I won't tell you what it is until we get there."

"First, finish what you were doing when I came in," she told him firmly.

He looked up, startled. "What do you mean?"

"Unless I'm very much mistaken, you were about to take the first full-length look at yourself that you've seen in months."

Jarod smiled. "I'd say you were right, but I wouldn't want to pander to your ego."

She snorted. "Just look, will you?"

Almost fearfully, he turned his head to the left, the rest of his body slowly rotating also. He took in the sight of the new shoes on his feet, moving over the blue jeans he wore to the pale blue shirt, open casually at the neck. His hair, he saw immediately, was somewhat shorter than he normally wore it and his glasses gave him a professorial air. In other words, Jarod thought as he eyed his reflection, he looked respectable, neat and nothing at all like he remembered himself appearing. A small grin slowly formed on his face.

"So, did I do a good job?" queried a laughing voice.

He shrugged, a teasing look coming into his eyes as he turned to her. "Not bad, I guess."

Ann jumped indignantly to her feet. "Hey, do you want my opinion or not?"

"If you're my only option..." he trailed off, shrugging again.

"Then stop being so smart and let's go."

* * *

As the two people and the dog entered the store, the gray-haired owned turned with a smile.

"Jarod, sir, how are you today?"

"Very well thanks, Bill,” Jarod told him. “Did it come in yet?"

"Finally arrived last night, I'm glad to say. But is this..."

The show-owner’s blue eyes looked Ann up and down as Jarod laughed. "No, this isn't her. This is her friend and she's going to help me make the final decision."

"Just a moment then, sir, and I'll get it for you."

Ann nudged Jarod as Bill went into the back of the shop. "And since when are you on first-name terms with the shop-keepers in this town?"

"Since I decided to do a little shopping," he retorted with a grin.

"And can I guess what you're buying in a jewellery store?"

He shrugged. "Probably."

Ann grinned. "And I take it this is going to be a complete surprise?"

"If it wasn't, do you think you'd be here?" he demanded.

"Hmm, good point."

Jarod laughed. "I've been trying to decide the best way to ask her - and that's another thing I want your advice on. But first, tell me what you think of this."

He opened the box that had been put on the counter in front of him and Ann picked it up, seeing the cluster of diamonds, set into the thin gold band, catch the light. "It's beautiful."

"What did Paul give her?" Jarod asked softly.

She glanced at him sharply. "Nothing like this. His was pearl. It was his mother's ring."

Jarod nodded. "Good. So, what do you think?” His eyes danced. “Should I get it?"

"If you want her to love you even more than she does already, definitely."

He laughed and pulled out his wallet, taking a card and handing it to the man who waited patiently behind the counter. As Bill moved into the back of the shop again to process it, Ann looked up at Jarod.

"Is the name thing settled?"

He nodded. "Nicole and I sorted it out about a week ago, as soon as I could see well enough to sign the forms."

Ann laughed. "And now you'll have to do it all over again for her."

* * *

He held the door of the restaurant for her and then followed her inside, the waiter leading them to a table, tucked away in the corner. Nicole sat down in the chair that was held for her, her back to the restaurant, and he took his seat opposite.

"So what's the occasion?"

He grinned. "You don't think we have things to celebrate?"

Nicole smiled. "Probably. I'm just curious to know which particular one we're celebrating tonight."

"Hmm," Jarod paused thoughtfully. "The anniversary of you first taking me out to dinner, or close enough to it. I thought it was time I returned the favor."

"Does that mean you're paying?"

"Unless you have an objection."

"Not at all. I'm just curious, since you aren't working right now and never remained at one job long enough to get a pay check..."

"Remember how I said I'd send the Centre broke to keep you happy?" He paused as she nodded. "About a week before the explosion I set up a bank account that would siphon off a certain sum of money daily from one of the major Centre accounts, without them knowing. When the Centre was destroyed, the account remained active. After we arranged a full set of identification, I pulled out a certain bankcard and arranged for the name on it to be changed. Voila! An instant source of funds to spend on you!"

Nicole giggled as she picked up the glass that the waiter had just placed in front of her. "Ann was right. You are too clever for your own good!"

He picked up his own glass, his gaze fixed on her. "Here's to friendship."

"And much more."

Jarod nodded as he took a sip of the wine, his expression suddenly and completely serious.

Darkness Series
Part 11: The Light Strengthens


Jarod laughed and put the glass back down on the table, raising his eyes to look at Nicole as she ate the last mouthful of the main course he had ordered for them both and which he had already finished.

"Well?"

"You do it better," she told him.

He raised a dubious eyebrow. "You're sitting in a high-class restaurant staffed by chefs who have learnt the secrets of culinary skills for years and you still tell me that I do it better?"

"Only because it's true." Nicole wiped the corners of her mouth with a napkin as the waiter came over and collected the plates before looking up at Jarod as the man walked away. "Do you know something? I would almost swear that he's only serving our table."

Jarod grinned. "Maybe he's trying to crack onto you."

"Well, he's wasting his time."

"Sure?"

Nicole smiled. "Positive." She lifted the napkin from her lap and placed it on the table. "I'll be right back."

Jarod watched as she walked away, his heart pounding so loudly in his ears that he was sure she could hear it. The instant that she went through the door, he took the box from his pocket, opened it and arranged the napkin around it so that she would only see it when she sat down. He met the eye of the man who was serving their table and grinned nervously in response to the wink that he received.

"Did you order dessert yet or do I actually get a say in that?"

He looked up as she approached him, her voice light, and he was about to give a response when she slid into her seat and looked down.

The jewels sparkled as she picked up the box and looked at him. "Jarod, d... does this mean what I think it does?"

He nodded, reaching out to take the box from her hand and extracting the piece of jewellery. "You said we should wait and see what happened before we made any decisions that would affect our whole lives." Jarod took her left hand in his, using the right to slide the ring onto her finger. "And I want to ask you this because, if you say yes, it will."

Raising his eyes to her face, still holding her hand tightly, he leaned towards her. "Nicole, I know this is a surprise, but..."

She looked up from the hand on which she had been focusing to meet his gaze, the tears slipping out of her eyes and down her cheeks as she smiled at him. His own eyes lit up.

"Is that a yes?"

Speechless, Nicole nodded, and Jarod stood, leaning across the table to kiss her. As he reseated himself, the customers in the restaurant broke into applause, and Nicole turned to look out over a room full of familiar faces before glancing back at Jarod, one eyebrow raised.

"Did you organize that?"

"No,” he grinned. “Ann did. And she only told me what was planned while you were showering, so I couldn't even try to talk her out of it."

She laughed, wiping the tears from her eyes, and turned to find her friend at her elbow.

"I should be angry right now..."

"No,” Ann told her, offering a bunch of roses. “You should be happy right now. I wasn't letting you keep this engagement a secret."

"Does the whole hospital know?"

"Yes. Well, any of them that read the notice board after you left. And the rest will when they read the notice board tomorrow. But I've been dropping hints since yesterday morning."

Nicole took the flowers, raising an eyebrow. "What happened yesterday morning?"

"I made the fatal mistake of taking her along to find out if you’d like the ring," Jarod laughed as he picked up the empty box and returned it to his pocket.

* * *

He watched her as they walked home hand in hand, her new ring sparkling in the glow thrown by the streetlights they went under and her other hand clutching the flowers.

"I didn't think you were capable of keeping secrets from me."

Jarod smiled. "You'll have to look harder."

"I will, in future," Nicole laughed, moving nearer to him. He put his arm around her shoulders and she passed hers around his back. Her eyes bore a curious expression as she looked up at him. "How long have you been planning that?"

"I looked at rings about a week ago, ordered that one and it came in yesterday. I took Ann along to be sure you'd like it and I organized everything at the restaurant this morning while you were at work, though I made the booking last week. But I've been planning it for a lot longer, even before I could see again."

She laughed. "So that waiter was only serving us."

He nodded. "He came in especially to do so."

"What was he - somebody else you helped?"

Jarod choked back a laugh as he nodded. "Now that you mention it, yes."

"You know something?" She turned her face up to his and he smiled at her.

"What?"

"We never had dessert," she laughed.

"Hey, I planned for that too," he protested.

She raised an eyebrow. "So what did you make?"

Jarod grinned. "Be patient."

* * *

He carried the bowls to the table where she sat with a mask over her eyes and her hands lying in her lap. Carefully and silently Jarod set one down in front of her and then, placing his own dessert down, plucked the bottle out of the ice bucket and took off the foil.

"Okay, you can look now."

As she removed the mask, he eased out the cork and then poured the first of the champagne into her glass, waiting until it settled before he filled both it and his own. Then he looked at her.

"You're quiet."

"I can't take it in." Her eyes looked at the blooming red and white roses in a vase on the table and at the candles, giving a gentle light in the room. Finally she looked down to see another jewellery box lying on the table between her and the dessert, raising her eyes to meet his.

"What's this?"

"An accompaniment for the ring," he told her.

Nicole eased it open and gazed at the gold necklace with a cluster of white diamonds before she glanced at him again. "Are you broke?"

He grinned. "Didn't anyone ever tell you that it's impolite to ask about money?"

She laughed, picking it up. He took it out of her hand and put it around her neck, fastening it and removing the plain gold chain she was wearing. As he took his seat, she looked at the dessert he had prepared.

"Chocolate mousse?"

"A little birdie told me that it was your favorite."

Nicole giggled. "I won't ask for this birdie's name."

"No, don't," Jarod smiled. "Because I'm sure you'll be able to guess and, having set everything up here after we left, she's intruded enough into our evening."

She laughed before tasting it. "Wonderful. As everything you make is."

"I thought about making dinner instead of going out,” Jarod told her. “But I've done it often enough now and I want tonight to be special."

Eyebrows raised, she glanced at him. "You make it sound like you aren't going to be able to do it again."

He picked up a piece of paper that lay beside his plate, his eyes serious. "I might not, at least not after a while. I'll assume that you've heard the rumor about Peter Richards’ retirement."

"Of course,” she agreed. “That piece of gossip's been flying around the hospital for weeks but I’m not sure how you know."

Jarod eyed her, unable to help wondering how she’d react to the news. "It isn't only ‘gossip’. He’s retiring at the end of June. As head of the board, and based on the recommendations of, among other people, Doctors Ann Stevens, Phillip Barnard and Chris Evans, he offered me his position last week. I've accepted."

"You mean... you...?"

Her eyes shone as she fixed her gaze on him. He reached over, entwining her fingers with his.

"I'm going to be your husband - and your new boss."

* * *

Ann looked over as she made her way across the reception area of the hospital, her eye caught by that of the woman sitting behind the desk.

"Excuse me, Dr. Stevens."

"What can I do for you today, Lauren?"

The woman smiled. "There are some people here making enquiries about Jarod."

Ann raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really?"

"Yes, and as you're probably better acquainted with him than I am, I thought..."

The doctor laughed. "You want to be saying that to Nic, not me. But I do get your meaning." She looked around. "Where are they?"

As Lauren indicated, a group rose and made their way over. Ann turned, a smile on her face.

"My name's Dr. Stevens. Can I help you with something?"

"It would be wonderful if you could. We're hoping to get in touch with Jarod and I understand that this is probably the best place to begin."

Ann looked at the group carefully, her ready tongue halted by the remembrance of warnings she had received so many months earlier.

"Well, as there are a number of patients here with that name now I’ll need a little more information before I can..."

"Oh, it's not about a patient." The older man reached into his pocket and extracted a photo. "From what we found out, he's a staff member. Or very soon will be."

Ann nodded slowly as she eyed the picture. "And may I be so bold as to ask why you want to see him?"

"It's... a personal enquiry. We haven't seen him for some time."

"So you're old friends."

The woman nodded. "I think you could say that, yes."

* * *

"Nicole?" Jarod looked up sharply as he heard the front door quietly close and Charlie jumped to his feet. "Is that you or are we about to be robbed?"

She laughed and walked into the room. "I'd pay a lot of money to see you fight off the intruders."

He grinned and got out of the chair, putting his notepad down on the table in front of him.

"What are you doing?" she asked, dropping her things on the sofa.

"Planning."

"Great." Nicole rolled her eyes as she took off her sweater. "Like to be a little more vague?"

He laughed, following her into the kitchen. "I just spent an hour on the phone with Peter and I was making notes as a result of the call."

"Ah, so you were planning."

Jarod took a jug of juice out of the fridge and handed it to her with a grin. "Funny, but I could have sworn that's what I said."

* * *

"So what are we doing this afternoon?"

Jarod looked out of the window at the sunshine that was streaming into the room as they finished lunch. "We could go to the park. I haven't been there in days."

She raised an eyebrow. "Why not?"

"Studying. I tried to work but then kept getting distracted by all the things there were to see." He smiled. "Not that I minded it too much."

"So the last exam's over?"

He rolled his eyes. "Thankfully."

Nicole laughed. "Yes, I could see how terribly tense they made you."

"Hey, I'd never done anything like that before!"

"Mmm, and that explains why you finished in under sixty minutes an exam that takes most people more than three hours."

He grinned, dimples forming in his cheeks. "Well, maybe…"

"So you're qualified now?"

Jarod carried the plates into the kitchen. "We won't know until I get the results."

She snorted derisively. "Yes, I can really see you failing, too."

Nicole packed several books and several bottles of drink into the backpack they took with them to the park, looking up as he walked back in through the doorway.

"Ready?"

"If you are," he told her with a smile.

Jarod slipped the bag onto his back and offered her his arm. She slid her hand around it, smiling as the two people and a dog made their way out of the house.

* * *

Jarod rested his hand on Nicole's head as she sat with it lying on his leg. "Now this is nice."

"And familiar too,” she smiled, remembering the early days of their engagement.

"We could make it a weekly tradition," he suggested as Charlie settled on the ground against his feet.

"I wouldn't object."

He smiled down at her. "Sure?"

"Positive," she told him.

"Should we call it a family tradition or wait until we have a family?"

"What, it can't be a family with just the two of us?"

"Ah," Jarod picked up her left hand, eyeing the single, diamond-studded band on it, "but we aren't 'the two of us' yet. That's still two weeks away."

"Not developing any regrets, are you?"

"Only that we waited this long. And that it took me that long to finally summon up enough courage to kiss you."

Nicole laughed. "I always knew you were a coward at heart."

"Might I remind you,” he protested, his eyes twinkling, “I wasn't the one shaking."

"I was cold!"

"Yes." He bent down to kiss her. "I noticed. I’ve always thought that that was the only reason you invited me to share your bed - you really wanted the human equivalent of an extra-large hot water bottle."

* * *

Jarod turned a page and pushed his reading glasses more firmly on his nose, looking up to where Nicole was chatting with one of her patients. He smiled and looked back down, his fingers running over the raised dots. Most of the books in normal print that he had read since regaining his vision had been textbooks but, now that the exams he had taken were over, he was considering reading some for pleasure as well. Jarod shook his head with a wide grin, about to continue reading when he heard a male voice from behind.

"If you want people to believe that you're really dead, son, then it's probably not the best idea to get your picture in the paper."

Slowly, painfully slowly, Jarod turned. His glasses slipped down his nose and he impatiently tore them from his face, the book falling from his lap as he got to his feet. His voice, when he spoke, was a faint whisper.

"Dad?"

"Hi, Jarod."

Sidestepping the seat, Jarod threw both arms around the man and felt himself firmly embraced in return before pulling away slightly and staring at him.

"But... how did you...?"

Charles reached into his back pocket and pulled out a recent edition of the local paper, opening it to show the photo of Jarod and Peter Richards on the third page.

"Like I said, publicity makes it hard to fake your death."

"So… you've been living around here?"

"No." Still smiling, his father refolded the paper. "But there’s a few people around here who know us and had heard about the tragic death of our eldest son. They were, therefore, a little surprised to see his photo in the paper last week."

"Our?" Jarod caught the word immediately. "You mean you...?"

He felt the two arms as they wrapped themselves around him from behind and turned to look into the face of the woman he could never forget. His voice was an even fainter whisper than when he spoke to his father.

"Mom..."

"Yes, Jarod." She blinked the tears out of her eyes as she looked at him, raising a hand to brush away those that were on his cheeks.

"I don't… I don’t believe it..."

"If you don't believe that, Jarod, then you'll probably also find it pretty difficult to accept the fact of our existence."

He looked over to see that his sister and the younger image of himself had come up behind their father.

"I... I don't..." Jarod's voice was almost inaudible but he kept both arms firmly wrapped around his mother. "How?!"

Nicole glanced up as the discussion with her patient was ending and caught sight of Ann standing near a group of people, of which Jarod was obviously the central figure. She made her way over to her friend.

"What's going on?"

"Family reunion."

"What?" Her eyes widened. "Ann, what do you mean?"

"What I say." Ann took Nicole's arm, leading her a short distance away, Charlie following. "They turned up at the hospital asking for Jarod. I remembered the warnings you gave me and guessed that you’d both be taking advantage of today being Saturday and also the glorious weather, so I thought I’d bring them here. I figured that, if they were from the Centre, it’d give Jarod a chance to escape."

"We told you that that place was gone," Nicole reminded her.

"Yes, but if any of its competitors had..."

"Okay, good point." She looked back. "But they're not..."

"Hardly." Ann laughed. "They told me who they were as we came here and you can see that they were telling the truth."

Nicole looked over to see the emotional tears in Jarod's eyes and nodded slowly, a smile curling the corners of her mouth. "Yes, I can definitely see that."

* * *

"I've heard a lot about you."

Margaret Crawford laughed. "I think we'll hear a lot about you, too, Nicole."

"Hmm, I guess that could be possible." Jarod stood up, kissing the top of his fiancé's head before picking up the pile of plates in front of him and carrying them into the kitchen.

"Jarod talked about you all a lot,” Nicole continued. “It was his biggest regret – knowing that you’d believe he was dead and he couldn’t get in touch without giving the game away."

"And that reminds me." Jarod reappeared with a tray on which sat six glass bowls. "How did you first learn about it? I can't believe Miss Parker simply called..."

"Actually," his father interrupted, looking up, "it wasn't her at all. Sydney found us two weeks after they got the report and showed it to us." He swallowed hard. "It was rather a shock."

"I can imagine that it would have been." Nicole stated gently. "But if we hadn't done it, there was a good chance of the Centre finding him. It's hard to hide when you're totally blind and also not able to walk properly. Not to mention that it makes running somewhat difficult."

"And I thought my son had a devious mind," Charles Crawford grinned.

Nicole laughed. "His worst habits are the most contagious."

"So Sydney somehow managed to find you,” Jarod put in. “And then what?"

"He said that the Centre was increasing the focus on looking for the rest of us and suggested that there was only one way for us to stop it: that, if we worked together, we could all destroy it before it killed anybody else."

"And you did,” Jarod finished for his father. “All five of you."

"We had a little help," the boy put in.

Jarod raised an eyebrow. "Don't tell me that Miss Parker..."

"Okay, we won't tell you," the young woman interrupted.

"Gee, thanks Em." He grinned at his sister. "I take that back. Do tell me."

Nicole laughed. "Do this, do that, or do the other thing. Can't you ever make up your mind?"

"You're asking for trouble,” he retorted quickly. “You know that, don't you?"

She smiled. "No, that's not right. If you're going to quote me at all, you could at least quote me correctly."

"I think my family would be rather shocked if they knew that you had threatened to turn me out onto the streets to beg."

"But that wasn't what came next."

"It was close enough." He picked up her spoon, placing it in her hand. "Now stop talking before you get into more trouble than you can get out of."

* * *

"Knock, knock, anyone home?"

"Dad!" Jarod jumped up from the outdoor sofa as his father walked up the path, the dog leaping around him. "I didn't expect to see you today."

"Well, it's been a whole five hours since we talked on the phone," Charles smiled. "I was missing you."

His son laughed. "I believe it, too." He waved towards the sofa. "Have a seat."

"Where's your soon-to-be-wife?"

"Working hard." Jarod laughed. "I can torment her about it now because I figure that she'll do the same to me when I start working again."

"I'd say that's more than likely." The older man looked down at the papers that were spread out in front of him. "So what are you doing?"

"Planning."

Major Charles rolled his eyes. "For?"

"The honeymoon." Jarod looked up. "I'm trying to make money go further than it realistically will."

"But what about that account you set up, leeching off the Centre?" the older man protested.

"That paid for the rings and dress as well as a couple of other bits and pieces but didn't leave that much else, particularly after somebody suddenly and mysteriously cut off my source of funds." He met his father's eye and laughed. "So I'm trying to be creative."

"Well, you should be good at that."

The younger man laughed again before suddenly narrowing his eyes. "I've seen that expression before."

"On my face?"

"No, on mine, when I'm about to tell someone something they aren't expecting to hear."

"Impressive that you can see your own face without a mirror." His father leaned back against the sofa and folded his arms, a smile playing around the corners of his mouth.

"So, what is it?" Jarod demanded, stroking the dog’s head as it rested on his knee.

"You don't let go, do you?"

"Hey, I'm tenacious. Probably a trait I inherited from my father."

"Well, maybe..." Major Charles hesitated for a moment and then reached into his pocket, pulling out a thin piece of plastic, which he put into his son's hand. "I thought it might be nice if we gave you your wedding present now."

Jarod looked down at the bankcard and then back up at his father. "But… are you sure?"

"Oh, it's not just from us."

"Who then?"

"Consider it payback - from the Centre."

"The Centre?" Jarod's eyebrows lifted and he let the card fall on the table in front of them as if it had burnt him. "I don't understand."

Major Charles shook his head in disbelief. "I never thought I'd hear you say that."

"You won't, often. Only when it's strictly necessary. And it is now." Jarod stood up but his father remained silent. "I'll make you coffee if you tell me."

"Now there's an offer I can't refuse."

* * *

"So, I'm waiting," Jarod stated impatiently.

Major Charles sipped his drink and relaxed back against the sofa. "First, I want to know how you knew that the Centre had been destroyed."

Jarod reached over to the bookcase and pulled out a photo album, opening it to show his father an article that was pasted inside.

"Nicole read it to me one day and I had to keep it." He smiled. "There are no names mentioned, of course, but I can make very good guesses."

"Okay." Major Charles nodded at the card that lay on the table and smiled also. "Well, this comes from that time. When everything was finished and the last deal was struck, we sat down and took stock. Suddenly we found that there were a whole lot of bank accounts, with substantial sums of money, that a non-existent place had no need for, so we felt it would make nice compensation for everything that we'd suffered and, umm, commandeered them."

Jarod laughed. "Yes, I can see you all sitting around one day and thinking 'Gee, there's millions of dollars here in various bank accounts and we'd hate it to just lie there forever gathering interest. It would be much kinder if we found homes for it all'. Your generosity is boundless."

"Well, it wasn't too far off," his father laughed. "When we received that article, and I think it was a bit careless of you to let yourself get so much public attention considering you wanted people to believe..."

"Hey, I didn't want to!” his son protested indignantly. “The hospital wanted it!"

"Hmm, sure." Major Charles raised an eyebrow skeptically before continuing with what he’d been saying. "Anyway, we were sent that article, realized that you had to be still alive and came to find you. When we finally left your house that night, we talked on the way home and decided it would be suitable wedding present if we divided what we as a family got from the place and gave you an equal share." He nodded towards the piece of plastic. "That's what that is."

"And… you're sure?"

"Jarod, you suffered as much as any of us at the hands of that place, or maybe even more. Don't you think that you deserve it?"

"I don't want to be depriving any of you."

"Well, I'm not sure how you go about spending money, son, but it'll take a long time to get through the eight figure sum that fell to my share once we’d included you in the divisions." Charles leaned forward over the papers lying in front of them, a broad beam appearing on his face. "Still, let's see just how fast we can get through some of it now, shall we?"

* * *

Nicole looked through the Perspex as the plane approached the group of islands and felt Jarod's arm on hers. His voice sounded strange through the headphones.

"We'll land on Oahu, but I'll charter this again so that we can visit the other islands if we want."

"You still haven't told me how much time we've got here. My secretary wouldn’t even tell me how long I was going to be away for."

He grinned and focused on the instruments, keeping an eye on the landing strip. When the plane was on the ground he turned to her, taking off his headphones.

"Welcome to Hawaii. Warmth as requested and, if the Centre still existed, then they’d certainly be broke by the end of our time here with all the things I have planned for us."

He followed her down the stairs to where the small group waited for them, giving them traditional welcomes before ushering along them to the limousine that was waiting outside the airport. Still stunned, Nicole finally turned to the man on the back seat of the car beside her, his eyes fixed on her face and his arm around her shoulders.

"Jarod, I can't believe this."

"You aren't meant to be able to. I thought I'd set up a dream vacation - one you'll never forget - because I don't know when we'll get the chance for more." He gave her a gentle kiss. "Besides, this has to be special, doesn't it? After all, it's our first as a family."

* * *

Nicole rolled over to look at her husband as they lay, side-by-side, on the sand. "We've been here for two weeks, Jarod. How much longer do we have?"

He grinned. "I'll give you a hint. We have to be back home in time for me to take up my position at the hospital."

Nicole laughed. "Strange as it may sound, I had guessed that. But that's still three weeks away."

The man relented. "We have another two weeks. This uses up the annual leave you saved for the last few years but I didn't think you'd mind too much."

"And after the two weeks?"

"We have a week at home to get used to the few small changes there..."

"What now?" She stared at him and he laughed.

"Well, I thought it might be helpful if I could actually fit my clothes into the room where I sleep, for a start."

Her expression was demanding. "Where?"

"Only one way to go," he reminded her with a grin.

"Up?"

"Right. I drew up the blueprints almost a month ago, but you get a say in what goes where, once we get home."

"How truly kind." She smiled. "And how big?"

"Three rooms, and a bathroom."

Her jaw dropped. "You do like surprises, don't you?" Suddenly her expression became thoughtful. "And I don't know how we're paying."

Jarod reached into the pocket of his shorts and took out his wallet, extracting a bankcard, which he handed to her.

"Mom and Dad's wedding present to us."

She eyed the smooth plastic and then the man beside her. "Should I ask - how much?"

"Well, let's just say that the honeymoon and renovations aren't making much of a dent in it." Jarod grinned somewhat wickedly. "Haven't you always wanted to marry a multi-millionaire?" He picked up the conversation from where it had left off. "Then, after the week in our newly renovated home, rearranging the furniture, I need to start finding out how to manage the hospital."

"I'm sure there's a book somewhere on that," his wife remarked.

He laughed. "I've been looking, but for some reason 'How to Run a Hospital the Size of St Luke's in Helena, Montana' doesn't seem to be a popular publication."

Nicole giggled softly. "Only you could make a joke out of something like that."

"Oh, not only me,” he admitted. “But I probably do it better than a lot of people."

She rolled her eyes. "Modesty isn't in your dictionary, is it?"

"Is it supposed to be?" He grinned. "I went over the hospital with Peter the week before we got married and he gave me a lot of tips then with the promise of a lot more to come."

He looked over as a figure approached across the sand and got up.

"I think dessert is served."

She rose, slipping her hand into his. "You've really gone the whole way with this, haven't you?"

"I don't like only half-doing things. I thought you knew that by now."

"Hey, there has to be a few surprises still to find out about you."

Jarod grinned. "I can think of one or two right now."

"I'm guessing that asking you what they are wouldn't be particularly helpful."

"And I'm guessing that you'd be right," he agreed.

They walked up the steps and were directed by the waiter to a table that jutted out over the water. As they sat down, Jarod glanced at his watch and Nicole raised an eyebrow.

"Are you worried about being late for something? Here?"

"Not anymore."

She smiled and then looked up as the waiter placed the platter of fruit in front of them amid the increasing darkness, which rush-lights and candles lit to perfection.

"Did you pre-plan all of the meals for this trip,” Nicole demanded. “Or just most of them?"

He laughed. "You've had a choice of breakfasts."

"It's a buffet, Jarod,” she retorted. “There are certain difficulties in pre-planning a buffet."

"So you know that that's one meal I didn't organize." He grinned. "But I have had a little to do with most of them. It seemed easier when I was organizing the days anyway."

"And what do you have planned for tomorrow?"

"I thought you might want some nice photos, so we're going up in the plane over the islands and taking a photographer - not me, incidentally - with us. We might stop off at one or two nice spots along the way."

She was about to reply when he touched her hand, nodding in the direction that the sun had set some time earlier. She was just about to ask him what he wanted when the sky seemed to come alive in a burst of color and light as fireworks shot up from a pontoon far out in the ocean. Nicole could hear the pleased sighs of other diners, but knew that Jarod had arranged this just for her.

* * *

She walked into the bedroom of their suite and looked around with a rueful sigh. The holiday was almost over and they only had the flight home to enjoy before life got back to some semblance of normality. As she looked around, however, the sight of a book on her pillow drew her attention and she walked over, sitting on their bed to glance through it. It was filled with photographs of the last four weeks, starting with the wedding ceremony and, at the back, showing scenes from only that morning. Under each scene, in Jarod’s distinctive handwriting, was the date, place and some special fact or humorous remark. Few of the photos had been set up and that added a degree of spontaneity that was lovely to look at.

Reaching the last page, she saw that it contained no photo but instead a slip of paper. Curious and smiling, she drew it out and unfolded it, her eyes running over the words. Look Right. She did and was momentarily blinded by the flash of the camera that he held in his hand.

"I just needed one more shot." Jarod explained, handing the apparatus to a man standing behind him and then coming to sit down on the bed beside her.

"We've had a lot of fun, haven't we?" She rested back against his chest, her eyes turned up to his face, and he smiled, gently touching her cheek.

"We sure have. But it doesn't stop now. We have our married life ahead of us and that will be a lot of fun too."

* * *

As the plane rose into the sky, Jarod loosened his hold on her hand and reached into the pocket of his cream sports jacket, handing her an envelope before relaxing back into his first-class seat and smiling at her.

"What's this?" his wife demanded.

"The last item to go into the album."

"You know," she began conversationally as she took it and picked up the album, opening the first pages before looking at him, "I don't understand how you managed to get the wedding photos in there when you haven't received mail for the last four weeks."

Jarod laughed. "Actually, that was pretty simple. The photographer had a darkroom set up in the hotel where we had the reception. After taking a few photos, he took them up and his 'assistant' processed them while he came back down and took a few more."

"Who was his assistant? You?"

"I was there with you the whole time, remember? I'm good, but not even I can be in two places at once." Jarod laughed as she rolled her eyes. "No, it was my little brother. He's been interested in photography ever since he got out of the Centre and loved the chance to do that, even though he missed the party. Dad went up a few times and found him happily sitting in there among the fixing fluids, processing the photos and putting the best ones into the book so I could bring it with us. It all went on from there. And yes, before you ask, I had planned for it a long time in advance."

Laughing, Nicole opened the envelope, taking out the photo and looking at it. "How long had you been standing there?"

"Pretty much the whole time you were looking through it. It took that long to set it all up, get the focus right and everything. But it worked out well."

She nodded. "The photographer has a lot of skill."

"The model has a lot of beauty."

Nicole smiled as she slid it into place and then reached into the envelope again, pulling out the small piece of paper that accompanied it. Reading on the slip the same sentence that he had just uttered aloud, she laughed.

"Very clever, Jarod."

He grinned. "It was totally by chance, I assure you. But it worked out rather well, I think."

Darkness Series
Part 12: Lighting The Way

Jarod settled himself comfortably into the chair behind his new desk and looked around the office, taking in the various furnishings and items that were standard for a medical practitioner. Grinning wickedly, he also looked at the numerous, for once genuine, certificates that hung on his wall. He had passed all the exams with ease, and now actually had the qualifications that he had so often pretended to claim. Suppressing a laugh, Jarod lifted his head as his new secretary activated the intercom.

"Yes, Julia?"

"Dr. Crawford, your wife would like to see you."

"Send her in."

The door opened almost immediately and Nicole walked in, closing it behind her.

"Well, Dr. Crawford..."

He laughed. "All right, enough already. I only hope you can remember when you have to be nice to people about your boss."

"Oh, I'll remember. It's a difficult name for me to forget."

"I can imagine it would be, Mrs. Dr. Crawford."

"And when do you see your first patient?"

He glanced at the clock on the wall. "In a little under an hour."

"And are you nervous?"

Jarod looked at her indignantly. "When have you ever known me to be nervous?"

"Hmm." She came around to his side of the desk and pretended to think for a few seconds as she straightened his tie. "When you told me you loved me for the first time, when you were asking me to marry you, when you were waiting for me to arrive at the church... need I go on?"

Her husband wrapped an arm around her waist, placing a gentle finger on her lips. "I'd much rather you didn't. You've said enough and more than enough."

She grinned. "I really stopped by to ask when you'll be home tonight."

"Just a sec. I'll find out." He activated the intercom. "Julia?"

"Yes, sir?"

"What time is my last patient today?"

"18:00, Dr. Crawford."

"Thank-you." He turned back to his wife. "So once I've finished there and cleared up, I ought to be home around seven-ish. I hope."

She lifted an eyebrow. "I'm glad you added that rider. Seven-ish, huh? Well, we'll see."

"Come by when you leave. If I'm done, we can go home together." He kissed her gently. "See you later."

 

* * *

Jarod had almost finished writing the details about the patient he had just seen when his intercom was activated.

"Dr. Crawford?"

"Yes, Julia?"

"You have another patient to see. He made a late appointment on a referral from Dr. Hutchinson. I'm still filling out his card."

"That's fine. I can get it from you later. Send him in."

He heard the door open as he was about to write the last words of the report and spoke without looking up.

"Please sit down. I won't be a minute."

Hearing a gasp, Jarod lifted his head slightly, looking over his glasses, and his shocked gaze met the even more amazed eyes of the man who stood just inside the closed door.

"Jarod?"

"Sydney?!" He took off the glasses and stood up. "What are you...?"

"I could ask you the same question," the other man replied in caustic tones.

"Sit down." Jarod returned to his seat as Sydney took the one opposite.

"Aren't you supposed to be dead?"

Jarod grinned. "I just haven't stopped moving yet."

Taking note of the expression on the other man's face, Jarod became serious, folding his hands on the desk. "Jarod Hamilton is dead and has been for quite a while now. Jarod Crawford is alive, well and running a large hospital in Montana."

"But... why?!"

"It's a long story," he sighed, activating the intercom. "Julia, is this my last patient for today?"

"Yes, Dr. Crawford."

"Good. You can go home whenever you're finished. Just leave the keys so I can lock the office."

"No problem. Good night, sir."

"Good night. See you tomorrow."

Jarod turned off the machine, looking over at the older man. "Did you come because you realized it was me, or because you actually wanted to consult me?"

Sydney looked faintly amused. "I was intending to consult a doctor."

"You are." Jarod waved at the certificates on the wall behind him, trying to suppress a laugh.

"No, I meant a real doctor," insisted the psychiatrist.

"Again, you are, and I really am one now." Jarod grinned at the look on Sydney's face. "Can I see the referral please?"

He opened the envelope and read the two pages it contained before looking up again.

"Do you want me to run the tests you were sent here for?"

"I suppose you'd better."

Jarod raised an amused eyebrow. "Should I assume that you aren't here of your own accord?"

"Michelle's been talking me into it for a while," the older man admitted somewhat reluctantly.

The surgeon was about to speak again when there was a knock at the door.

"Yes?"

"Jarod, I wanted to ask if you were ready to go..." She peered around the door. "Oh, I'm sorry Dr. Crawford. I didn't realize you had a patient with you."

"No problem, Nicole. Come in. Recognize a familiar face?"

She walked into the room, her eyes widening as she saw and instantly recognized the man sitting opposite her husband. "Sydney! What are you doing here?"

"Dr. Austen?" He stared at her. "So you knew all along...?"

"I don't like making up things like that," she admitted. "But it seemed like the best thing to do, under the circumstances."

"What...?"

Jarod broke through the question. "I think this discussion would be better in a more comfortable environment, like at home. Sydney, are you at a hotel?"

"A few blocks away, yes," he responded.

"And is Michelle...?"

"No, I came on my own."

Jarod thought for a second and then looked at his wife. "Nicole, what say you get the guest room ready for company and make us some coffee or, even better, dinner? We'll be there in about half an hour."

She smiled and turned, walking to the door. "I'll be waiting."

Jarod turned back to Sydney as the door closed behind her, picking up a number of slips. "These are the test orders for tomorrow morning. They don't normally do appointments on Saturdays, but I'll get them to make an exception for you. If you'll just give me a moment..."

Jarod called the radiology department and made the arrangements, writing times on the slips and then hanging up. Passing them over, he watched the other man take them, curiosity evident in his eyes. An amused look in his own, Jarod spoke.

"What is it, Sydney?"

"Are you... married?"

He held up his left hand, showing the gold band. "For almost six months, yes."

"To Dr. Austen?"

"Is it that obvious?" He grinned and stood up. "Come on, let's get your things. I won't have you in a hotel while you're a patient of mine."

 

* * *

Jarod glanced over as he drove the Mercedes out of the parking lot. "You know, it's something of a surprise to see you like this."

"Likewise," the older man stated flatly.

"But why here? I mean, why come to me?"

"Dr. Hutchinson recommended you. And once I'd seen your name - your first name I mean - then I couldn't help but come. Of course, it was also the same hospital where you..." Sydney stopped abruptly and stared out through the windscreen.

"You never really got over my 'death', did you?"

"No," Sydney admitted quietly. "Not when the only way I found out about it was a phone call and an autopsy report. I always imagined that, if it happened, I'd know more than just that, or at least be able to see a body." He looked at the driver. "That report was very convincing."

"It was genuine, Sydney. If Lyle or anyone had come snooping, they would have found the death certificate, location where the ashes were scattered - everything. As I said before, Jarod Hamilton really is dead. Nicole arranged it, with the help of a few friends here."

"But why didn't you...?"

"I couldn't see at the time."

"Figuratively speaking, of course," Sydney finished for him.

"Literally speaking. I really was inside the building that the report said collapsed on me. Instead of just falling, though, a bomb went off inside it. The injuries that I sustained in the explosion left me completely blind."

Sydney sat in stunned silence as Jarod continued.

"I told Nicole about the Centre and she came up with the idea, organized it and put it into effect. I was there when she made the phone call to you."

"And did you... have any other injuries?"

"Broken leg. I made it worse by falling on it, which is why I still have a slight limp, even this much later."

"Yes, I noticed that."

 

* * *

"We're here!" Jarod opened the door of the house and ushered Sydney in, closing it after them to shut out the chilly air of the spring night as Charlie bounced up, trying to lick Jarod's face.

"At last. I was beginning to think that you were never coming." Nicole walked over to kiss him as he gently pushed the dog away and placed the other man's bags down inside the front door. "To most people, half an hour means thirty minutes, Jarod, not sixty."

"I'm sorry, but we had some fun getting the hotel to reduce the amount Sydney had to pay." Jarod took off his jacket and hung it up before helping Sydney with his. "At least we had difficulties until the owner's wife reminded him of a certain Dr. Nicole Crawford treating their daughter two months ago." He chuckled. "Funnily enough, it suddenly became free after that."

"And then you insisted on paying something anyway, didn't you?" Nicole retorted knowingly.

Jarod laughed. "Well, it could be possible." He followed his wife down the hall. "Is dinner ready?"

She eyed him. "You couldn't be hungry, by any chance?"

"I was operating all through lunch-time."

"Pity. You missed the greatest chocolate mousse in the cafeteria today."

Jarod grinned as he opened the fridge and took out a bottle of wine, eyeing the small glass bowls that sat there. "Better than mine?"

"Well, that's a toss-up." She opened the oven as Jarod got out the plates. "I'll let you know after dessert."

 

* * *

As Jarod sat down, he glanced up at Sydney, sitting opposite, and found himself being examined.

"What? What is it?"

"For someone dead," came the sardonic response, "you don't look too bad."

"And I feel even better," Jarod laughed. "It's not everybody who can die and then get married as a result of it."

Nicole smiled. "Keep talking like that and Sydney might start to think you actually like me."

"Hmm," Jarod looked thoughtful. "He'd have to know me pretty well to get that idea." He looked at the other man. "And he probably does, by now."

"Hey, he's had two years to forget you."

Jarod eyed the black shadows under the eyes and the new, deeper lines on the older man's face, speaking more soberly. "Somehow I don't think that's happened, has it?"

"No," Sydney responded softly. "No, I could never do that."

Nicole broke the silence that followed this. "Are we actually going to eat or did I waste my culinary abilities tonight?"

"I'd never want that to happen." Jarod retorted, laughing. "Your expert teacher taught you too well for me to even consider it."

 

* * *

Sydney looked at his hands and then up again, fixing his eyes on the man opposite and feeling a wave of emotion rise as he looked at him. "Even once you knew the Centre was destroyed, why didn't you get in touch?"

"Because I thought that you would all have had time to get used to the idea that I was dead and I didn't feel like seeing it all start over again, the way I was scared it would," Jarod replied evenly. "Particularly not with a wife to look after."

Sydney nodded as he sat on the sofa, looking over at where Jarod was curled up on the window seat, his right hand slowly turning the ring on his left.

"But you've been in contact with your family?"

"They turned up two weeks before the wedding. I haven't seen any of them for nearly a week now, but we speak on the phone almost daily."

"And are you happy?" The question was quietly asked and Jarod looked up at the expression on the older man's face, responding honestly.

"Yes, Sydney, I am. I'm very happy."

There was clearly audible pain in the reply. "I'm glad for you, Jarod."

Jarod sighed. "Sydney, after the accident happened and everything settled down, I honestly didn't want you to see me like that. I ended up with a compound fracture and at least for the first couple of weeks was almost totally dependent on other people because of that and my blindness. I didn't really think you'd want to see me like that either. Then, once everything healed and I could finally see again, I got a new job, got married and my life was so settled that I could only think yours was as well, particularly with the Centre gone." Jarod looked narrowly at Sydney, noting the pain in his eyes and something glistening there also. "Obviously I was wrong."

"Not completely. I had another chance with Michelle, but... somehow... I couldn't get the thoughts of - of you out of my mind. I just wanted the chance to say goodbye, Jarod." The tears were more obvious now. "And even that was denied to me."

"No, Sydney." Jarod stood up and came over to sit beside him, speaking quietly. "No, it wasn't. It might have seemed like it once, but I'm still here and while I'm not sure that 'goodbye' is the most appropriate word for you to use just yet, there are plenty of other things that you can say to me."

 

* * *

"Jarod?" Nicole looked up as he walked into the bedroom and sat on the edge of their bed with a deep sigh. "Is everything all right?"

He nodded slowly, absent-mindedly patting Charlie, who lay on the end of the bed. "I can't believe it, that's all. After so long..."

"I know." She paused as he turned to face her. "But aren't you happy?"

"I would be if I wasn't so worried."

"About?"

"Finding him, only to have to face the possibility of losing him again so soon." Jarod stared at the floor.

"You don't know that," she reminded him. "You won't, until you get the tests back."

"But it looks so much like it, Nicole." For a minute he paused before looking at her, and there was a hint of amusement in his eyes. "All right, don't say it. I'll wait for the results." He lay down next to her, slipping an arm around behind her neck, holding her close to him.

"Good," Nicole smiled. "I'm glad to hear it." She kissed him. "And no matter what they are, we may have found an even better reason for buying that new double bed."

He looked down at her, one eyebrow raised. "What are you suggesting?"

"This house is really almost too big for just the two of us now..."

"Nicole!"

"Well?" She looked up at him, a hint of amusement in her eyes. "You don't really think he'd mind, do you?"

 

* * *

When the alarm rang, he rolled over and turned it off before it woke her. Getting up, he dressed quickly and, followed by Charlie, walked down the hall, knocking softly on the door of the guest room.

"Sydney? Are you awake?"

"Come in, Jarod."

He pushed open the door, peeping around it to find Sydney sitting in a chair, gazing thoughtfully out of the window. With a smile, Jarod walked in.

"You were allowed to use the bed, Sydney. In fact you were ordered to do so. That's why I didn't leave you in the living room all night."

"I did." The older man looked up with an answering smile. "But I was awake early and didn't know what time you would get up."

Jarod looked at his watch. "I sleep a little later on Saturdays. And today I haven't got any surgery scheduled." He grinned. "It'll make a nice change."

There was a light of amusement in Sydney's eye as he stood up. "I never thought I'd see the day where you were actually settled - occupation, family and all."

"I always like surprises." Jarod laughed softly and led the way downstairs. "How are you feeling?"

"Now you really sound like a doctor."

The younger man grinned. "Well, you ought to know." Opening the cupboard in the kitchen, he pulled out the toaster. "Hungry?"

"More than I have been for a long time."

Jarod looked up at him, eyes traveling over the older man's face, noting all the changes from the night before. "Did you sleep better too?"

Sydney nodded. "I wish I could work cures as thoroughly and quickly as you do."

Jarod's face became serious. "Well, let's wait and see about that, shall we?"

 

* * *

Placing the jug back on the table, Jarod looked up as his wife came in. "Did you happen to forget that you aren't working today?"

"I just thought I'd come down and keep you company." She kissed him and sat down as Sydney watched silently.

"Will you be late?"

"I shouldn't be. I have a few appointments this morning and a few patients that I want to check up on - but with any luck I'll be home by mid-afternoon."

"I'll keep my fingers crossed," she smiled. "Are you taking Sydney in with you?"

"For now, yes, but when everything's finished, I'll get Ann to drop him back here on the way home after her shift."

Nicole laughed. "Did you memorize her work schedule as well as mine?"

"Only so that I could know if I needed her help with something," he told her with a grin.

"You always take advantage of her."

"I can tell how sympathetic you are." Jarod laughed and drained his mug before glancing at Sydney and getting up. "I'll see you later. Have a good day."

 

* * *

"Dr. Crawford? Dr. Stevens is here."

"Thanks, Julia. Send her in."

"Something you wanted, Mystery Man?"

Jarod looked over and caught the amusement in Sydney's eye before turning, his face wearing a stern expression.

"Where's your respect for your boss in front of my patient, Stevens?"

Ann glanced over at the other occupant of the office before looking back. "If I'd known you had a patient with you, I might have been more respectful."

"I bet you 'might' have been." He laughed. "Are you finished for the day? Or to be more accurate, the night."

"Thankfully. Can I do anything for you?"

"Now that you ask, yes. This is Sydney. Sydney, this is Dr. Ann Stevens."

"Ah!" She shook the man's hand before glancing at Jarod. "So I don't need to be respectful at all, not about a corpse."

"Oh, very funny." He narrowed his eyes. "I may retract that dinner invitation for next week if you're not careful."

"I'll be good! I wouldn't want to miss that for anything!"

"I'm glad to hear it." Jarod grinned. "And to make definitely sure of that fact, I'm now positive that you'll have no objection to dropping Sydney off at our house on your way home."

"And what makes you think that it was on my way?"

"Because I know you know Nicole's at home and I have no doubt, as Roger's working today, that you were going to stop in there and have a chat. So it's very much on your way."

She pursed her lips in an attempt to hide her smile and then, as Sydney got up, went towards the door ahead of him.

"I know that I've said before, but you really are too smart for your own good. You do know that by now, don't you?"

He got to his feet indignantly. "Unless you want your next pay-check reduced, Doctor Stevens, I'd be seriously considering leaving right now, if I were you."

"No, please, Mr. Boss, sir! Not that! Anything but that!"

She laughed and shut the door behind her as Jarod grinned, reseating himself behind his desk.

 

* * *

"Hello? Anyone home?"

"In the living room, Jarod."

He walked through the doorway and dropped a bundle of folders onto the table before going over to kiss his wife as she sat on the sofa, Charlie curled up at her feet.

"So what did the lady of leisure spend the day doing while her husband was working hard to earn the pittance that we live on?"

She laughed. "Learning all sorts of things about the aforementioned husband."

Jarod groaned and rolled his eyes, looking over at where Sydney was sitting, a book in his hands and an amused look on his face.

"What did you tell her?"

"Just about everything, from 1963 onwards," the older man admitted. "She asked."

"Great." He gave her a mock glare. "First you weasel all sorts of things out of my parents and now you do the same from the person who was substituting for them all the time in between! I'll never be able to keep a secret from you again!"

"And is that such a bad thing?" she protested, raising an eyebrow, and Jarod grinned.

"That depends. You've liked my secrets before."

"Well, there's one I want to know the answer to now."

He leaned against the table. "And that is?"

"The results of the tests that Sydney did this morning. I assume you put a rush on the results."

"Of course."

Jarod's tones became serious and he plucked a folder out of the pile, reaching into his pocket for his reading glasses. He flipped through the few pages of results and notes before taking off his glasses and glancing at Sydney, an expression of relief on his face. "It's not cancer."

The older man's brow furrowed, immensely relieved but also concerned. "What is it then?"

Jarod tapped the side of his head. "All up here. There wasn't a single abnormality detected."

"What are you saying, Jarod?"

"I'm saying, having talked to Dr. Hutchinson and got a complete history of it, that this all probably stems from my 'death'." He sighed and looked up again, his eyes full of compassion. "I'm so very sorry, Sydney. I honestly didn't realize it would all affect you like this. If I'd known, I promise that I would have got in touch with you earlier."

Nicole looked up. "Are you sure you've done everything?"

He handed her the folder. "Can you suggest anything else?"

She scanned rapidly through the list. "Nothing that would be any more valuable than what you've done already."

"That's what I thought," her husband agreed.

"So I'm cracking up?" the older man put in.

"Hey, you're the psychiatrist. You should be telling me that." Jarod smiled faintly. "I don't say that. At a guess, it's subconscious sympathy. The only time you didn't report any symptoms was during the time Dad said you were all destroying the Centre. I assume then that you felt you were doing something more beneficial and so it faded, only to come back when it was over."

Nicole looked at him in amusement. "You should be a psychiatrist, too."

"Maybe tomorrow." He smiled. "Sydney, in most cases I'd put the patient in touch with somebody at the hospital, and I will if you think it will help."

"But you wouldn't recommend it."

"To be honest, I don't think you need it. You've only improved since you stood in the doorway of my office yesterday, particularly after our discussion last night, and, totally immodest though this sounds, I can't help feeling that the sight of me alive is probably your best medicine."

"Ah, so modesty is in your dictionary after all."

Jarod grinned at his wife. "You were the one who said it wasn't. And it was on our honeymoon, if I recall correctly."

"And you just didn't disagree. I know."

"You always do."

"So what does the great head doctor of St. Luke's Hospital recommend?" Sydney queried with a touch of sarcasm.

Jarod laughed. "Some time here with the 'great head doctor', if you like. Not that I guarantee you'll see much of me. I seem to be rather busy these days."

"Running a hospital will do that to a person," his wife offered.

"So will being married." He grinned, standing up. "I may as well prepare the bread for tomorrow's breakfast now rather than later." Jarod looked down at his wife. "Did you get the new bed we had delivered today and for which you stayed at home and learned all my innermost, darkest secrets, actually made yet?"

"No, Doctor." She assumed the tones of a scared student nurse. "You see, I've been busy with a rush of patients this morning, and having to operate this afternoon, and then my husband wanted me home for dinner tonight, and..."

Jarod rolled his eyes, watching as his wife left the room, laughing, and his lips twitched as he led the way into the kitchen. "You just can't get any good help these days."

 

* * *

As he kneaded the dough, Jarod glanced at Sydney, who leaned against a bench. "Michelle said she'd be here around midday tomorrow when I spoke to her on the phone this afternoon."

Sydney nodded. "I'm looking forward to it." He paused. "Are you planning to tell anybody else that you're alive?"

"Like who?"

"Miss Parker."

Jarod's hands stopped moving. "Oh, come on, Sydney. Why would I?"

"Because I think she'd like to know."

"So I just call her up and say 'Guess what? Your whole basis for turning against the Centre and helping to destroy it was wrong!'?"

"That would be one way to put it," the older man agreed.

"I don't think she could cope with a shock like that, not after all this time. Besides, surely she's put that part of her life behind her by now?"

"Have you?"

"A long time ago." He looked up as Nicole came into the kitchen. "But I had help."

"I don't think Miss Parker would say the same."

"What are you suggesting? A Centre reunion?"

Sydney nodded silently.

"And when am I supposed to actually see all these people?"

Nicole laughed. "You couldn't fit them in between the operation that ends at 9:20 and the one that starts at 9:25 on Monday morning?"

"That'd be about the only time that I could find, unless we book the restaurant again, the way Ann did for our engagement, and take another day off work. It might look bad, though, both of us away from our desks at once."

Sydney smiled. "I'd suggest that the two of you are above suspicion by now."

Jarod leaned down, whispering loudly in his wife's ear. "Do you think he suspects something?"

"Now why would he do that?" She kissed him. "We're behaving exactly the same way everybody else does."

Jarod laughed before looking up to see the expression on Sydney's face and he threw his hands in the air in a gesture of defeat. "All right! I'll think about it!"

Nicole stared at Sydney, a look of amazement on her face. "Does that mean you can actually get him to do things he doesn't really want to?"

"Sometimes," the older man admitted, trying not to laugh.

"Wow." She paused. "Teach me the secret?"

Sydney smiled, watching as Jarod washed the kneaded dough from his fingers and then covered the large bowl.

"Well, maybe..."

 

* * *

"Are we taking your car or mine?"

"To?"

Nicole laughed as she walked into the room, her bag and his jacket and tie in her hand. "Dinner, remember?"

"I thought that wasn't until Wednesday, and here, meaning that we wouldn't need to take a car."

"Not that dinner! Tonight's dinner, which is now a 'medical' dinner because Roger can't make it. I told you about that yesterday morning. Remember now?"

"Oh, that dinner." He got up and put the folder he had been reading down on the table. "And did you extend the reservation?"

"For Sydney? Of course." She walked over and slipped the tie around his neck, knotting it quickly and then kissing him before handing him the jacket. "But, if we don't get moving, the boss might be late."

Jarod laughed as he pulled it on. "Well, that wouldn't really matter, would it? It's not like I'd have to apologize to anybody for my tardiness." He grinned at his wife. "Besides, it'd give Ann a taste of her own medicine." Nicole laughed and Jarod looked down at Sydney, who was watching the exchange silently but with amusement on his face. "Ready?"

"If you're sure..."

"Of course I'm sure." Jarod smiled. "We've got a lot to celebrate, haven't we?"

 

* * *

"Finally! The late Drs. Crawford, mourned by all who knew them!"

Jarod laughed. "Watch yourself, Stevens. That warning from earlier still holds good, I promise." He turned to the red-haired surgeon, who, an expression of curiosity in his green eyes, stood up. "Phil, this is Sydney. Nicole told you about him. Sydney, this is Dr. Phillip Barnard."

"That's a familiar name," the psychiatrist remarked quietly, shaking the other man's hand.

"I can imagine it would be." Jarod's face became momentarily sober as he took a seat beside his wife, Sydney sitting on his other side, as Phil returned to his chair and suddenly laughed.

"I can't believe that I almost forgot to mention this. I had a patient come to consult me today that those staff members of St. Luke's Hospital present, with the possible sole exception of our highly revered chief, might know." Phil Barnard grinned over the table at Jarod, who laughed. "He was one of Peter's old patients. Oh, and one of yours too, Nic."

"Really, Phil?" Nicole queried. "And who might that be?"

"Does the word 'bull' mean anything to anybody?"

Ann laughed. "Not really? I wouldn't have thought he'd have been willing to show his face around here."

"Well, he did look a little..."

Jarod glanced up from the wine menu, his eyes twinkling. "You're not going to say 'sheepish' are you, Phil? Or will we be waiting until the cows come home for you to come up with some other alternative?"

His wife groaned. "Jarod, that's terrible!"

"Hey, you were the one who was glad I had a sense of humor when you first found out about it."

"I can't believe you actually married him, Nic! Not when he makes puns like that!"

"She only married me for my money, Ann. I always knew that."

"And your running ability and your vision," Ann snorted, picking up her glass, as Jarod laughed.

"And let's not forget my dress sense." He glanced at his wife, his face serious, but Sydney could hear the amusement in his voice and smiled. "I saw a great leather jacket in a shop today..."

"If it was black, forget it," his wife told him firmly.

Jarod tried to look innocent. "Is there any other color?"

Nicole rolled her eyes. "Save it for your mid-life crisis."

"With my work and your friends, I should have hit that months ago."

"I'll take that as a personal reference, shall I, Mystery Man?"

Jarod grinned as he picked up the bottle that had been placed in front of him and filled his wife's glass, Sydney's and his own. "Your choice, Stevens."

"That reminds me, Crawford. I never reported your wife to the board for having dinner with one of her patients and having him stay at her house. Should I do so now?"

"You can try if you like. I don't know how far you'll get." Jarod laughed. "Not unless she's done it more than once, anyway."

 

* * *

"You've changed, Jarod."

"Wouldn't you expect that, Sydney?" He looked up from the mug he had just filled to see the look on the older man's face. "My circumstances have changed and I've always been good at adapting myself to those. You taught me how to do that."

"But not to the extent that you seem to have done."

Jarod picked up the breadbasket and took one of the rolls out of it. "Many things have contributed to the change, Sydney, not the least of which is the fact that I'm not constantly having to look over my shoulder anymore. You're one of those people who made that happen. So, before you say or even feel it, you did play a role in my change."

Nicole raised an eyebrow. "I thought it was only my mind that you could read."

He smiled and reached over to gently squeeze her hand. "I would have told you earlier but I didn't want you to be jealous."

"Of Sydney? I couldn't be." She smiled at the older man. "Not after all the things he told me about you."

Jarod rolled his eyes. "I thought you already knew a lot about me."

"Well, he only gave me facts to prove what I already suspected."

"Oh, really?" He rested his head on his hands and looked at her. "And should I bother to ask what suspicions?"

"Not unless you want to hear a blank refusal."

"No, I thought not." He glanced at Sydney before looking back at her. "And now I suppose you'll learn how to get me to do things I don't really want to do and then I'll be totally at your mercy."

"You were totally at my mercy for months and I didn't do all that much to you then, did I? Apart, of course, from providing a sharp corner of a bathtub and a conveniently placed towel."

"Well, I don't know." His eyes twinkled at her, although his face remained serious. "You took away a pretty important part of me in exchange for that."

"If you're going to say something about your heart," she told him firmly, "then I definitely won't give you the satisfaction of asking."

"Aw, gee," he complained. "You take away all my fun. If this is what comes from knowing me..."

"You're pretty easy to get to know, Jarod."

He glanced at Sydney in surprise. "I thought you said I'd changed."

"You have, but not to that extent." He smiled as he saw Jarod raise an eyebrow. "However, if you don't believe me, Dr. Crawford, we can always get a second opinion."

 

* * *

Jarod sat on the sofa, staring at the phone with his head resting on his hands.

"You haven't stared that blankly since you couldn't see," his wife told him.

"I haven't had to call somebody and tell them I'm not dead before."

"You might not have to."

He looked up at her. "What are you talking about, Nicole?"

She nodded her head at something behind him and Jarod turned to see a familiar figure standing there. Slowly he got to his feet.

"Hello, Parker."

"Jarod?" She stared at him in disbelief. "You're alive? So Ethan was right..."

"Sydney didn't tell you?"

"He just said I should come here. Your... Dr. Austen let me in."

"You mean my wife, I suppose." A faint smile fluttered across his face. "I don't know why so many people find that concept hard to grasp."

"It... it's kind of unexpected."

"So, I would imagine, is the fact that I'm not dead."

"That goes without saying." Miss Parker retorted crisply, having managed to recover a little of her self-possession by this time. "You created a very convincing autopsy. Even Lyle was taken in."

"That was a genuine autopsy, Miss Parker. And Jarod Hamilton is genuinely dead. Fortunately for my wife, though, Jarod Crawford isn't."

"Miss Parker, would you like to sit down?" Nicole cut into the conversation at this point. "And can I get you something to drink?"

"Something hot." Jarod glanced out of the window at the teeming spring rain and then back to his wife. "And ask Sydney if he'll come here, would you please?"

She nodded and left the room. Jarod waved Miss Parker to a seat and took one opposite her. As Sydney entered the room and seated himself on the sofa of his new home, the former Pretender looked over at his former huntress, a hint of a smile on his face.

"So, Miss Parker, what's been happening in your life?"

Darkness Series
Part 13:...Down, Dark Places...

The psychiatrist disconnected the call and stared down the surface of his desk, struggling to deal with what he had just heard. Jarod is dead. The three words made their way to the forefront of his mind, forced themselves on his attention, but he couldn't take in their meaning.

"Sydney?"

Slowly raising his head, he saw Miss Parker in the doorway. She walked in and shut the door.

"Did she say... what I think she did?"

"That depends, Miss Parker." His voice was gentle. "What do you think she said?"

She looked up at him, seeing the shock in his eyes and a lack of emotion on the rest of his face.

"We should go there. Tomorrow. Perhaps we can..."

"Can what, Parker?" Sydney looked up. "It's too late to do anything now. Jarod's dead." He stated the words without really believing them, staring down again.

"We need to be sure - see a report or something. The Triumvirate won't be convinced without it."

"The Triumvirate..." His voice was a faint whisper and she looked at him sharply.

"Sydney, are you okay?"

"I'm alive, Parker."

"That wasn't the question," she told him sharply.

"No." He looked up at her. "But that was the answer."

 

* * *

Sydney got into the back seat of the car, the autopsy report still held firmly in his hand and his eyes fixed to the floor of the vehicle as his mind went back over the conversation in that room.

"... Personally, I'd say the chances of him knowing anything after the building came crashing down on his head were pretty remote."

Those harsh words, that grim reality, forced him to open the folder and extract the photos, eyeing every mark, every wound, every bruise and finally the picture showing the man lying on the bed, surrounded by machinery, his head and face marred by the injuries that the falling structures had caused.

"Syd?"

He raised his head as Miss Parker slid onto the seat beside him, leaving Lyle and Broots to take those in the front. Gently she took the photos out of Sydney's hand and looked at them while he read the report. Jarod Hamilton. Deceased. Still, the term had no meaning. It wasn't that he was denying it. Just that the word had no meaning. Nothing did. Not anymore.

As she felt the car stop, Miss Parker lifted her head to see a pile of rubble in front of them.

"Well, that's it."

"That's what, Lyle?" She looked sharply at him and he held up a slip of paper.

"That's where it happened."

"How do you know?"

"Only building to collapse in this area five days ago."

She nodded, her eyes traveling over the heap of stones and twisted metal, trying to imagine what could have prompted Jarod to go inside it. Looking back down at the photos, her eyes wandered over the bruises and cuts on his face, the closed eyes and the tube that vanished into his mouth, the other end having been cut off several inches above his lips. She managed to prevent herself from looking at the misshapen head, the twisted limbs and the deep cuts that were shown on the other photos, focusing only on that showing his face, which bore an expression that could almost be called peace, if it wasn't already more accurately described as death.

 

* * *

He stepped out of the vehicle and stood for several moments, staring blankly up at the building in front of him.

"Sydney?"

"Major." He turned and held out one hand. "Thank you."

"For?"

"Trusting me enough to meet me here."

"You said it was important."

"It is." Sydney pulled the folder out from under his arm. "I think, though, that you should sit down before you look at this."

Major Charles narrowed his eyes. "What are you trying to tell me, Sydney?"

Sydney swallowed hard and then looked at the man again. "That your son is dead."

"No..." The man's voice was a faint whisper and he put out a hand, grasping at the top of the car, trying to hold himself up.

"I'm sorry." Sydney offered the report. "I really am so sorry."

"But... when?"

"Fifteen days ago."

"And you waited until now?!" A tone of anger came back into the father's voice as he reached out a hand and seized the folder.

"I couldn't tell you before now, because I didn't believe it myself." The sadness in Sydney's voice broke through the anger in that of the other man. "I couldn't try to convince you of something that I wasn't able to believe."

Major Charles looked up, pain in his eyes but calmness on his face. He waved towards the house and blinked away tears. "Come in, Sydney. Come in and help me tell the others."

 

* * *

"So... why did you come, Sydney? Why not just..."

"Just what?" The psychiatrist looked up as the young woman asked the question. "I couldn't have sent it to you because there was no guarantee that you would have received it."

"Why?"

"The Centre's tightened their controls on us - on all of us - since we first heard about it. If I'd sent it to you, it would simply have led them to you."

"But - you aren't leading them to us now?"

Sydney looked over at the young man who sat quietly in the corner, the pain he felt increasing as he eyed the boy's features, forced to remember the man he came from. "I took a chance that I had while out with the others in the hunt for you all to slip away and made my way here." He wearily passed a hand over his eyes. "I've been driving for three days trying to make the path as complex as possible, so that they wouldn't find you."

"So... if they're not looking for him anymore, does that mean...?"

"The hunt for all of you has been intensified. They're determined that they won't get the chance to 'lose' any more of you." Sydney's lips twisted as he said the words, struggling to maintain control. "That's all they view it as - a simple loss of a 'project'. Nothing more."

"What are we going to do now?"

Sydney looked at the older woman, who hadn't spoken before this since his arrival, tears pouring down her face as she absorbed the news of her oldest son's death.

"I know what I'd like to do."

"And that is?"

He met Major Charles' eye as the other man asked the question. "Avenge your son's death in the only fitting way."

"You mean...?"

"The Centre's destroyed lives for forty years. I think it's time they stopped." He paused. "That they were stopped. By us."

"Five of us?"

"Nine of us," stated a new voice.

The group turned, as one, towards the doorway to see the other four that stood there. Sydney got to his feet, feeling the others tense.

"Please Parker, no."

She shook her head, understanding. "No, Sydney. I'm here for the same reason you are. If you're going to destroy the Centre, I want to be a part of it. We all do."

 

* * *

Sydney looked over at Angelo and Ethan, seeing the expression of frustration on the latter's face as he read through the article that had come about as a result of the months of hard work.

"What is it, Ethan?"

"It's not true, Sydney. He's not dead."

The older man leaned forward. "I know that it's hard to come to terms with..."

"So why is she telling me that he isn't?"

The psychiatrist's eyebrows rose. "I... I don't understand."

"Ever since my sister turned up one my doorstep, I've heard her voice saying to me that he isn't dead, but that there's a good reason for the whole thing."

"Ethan, much as I want to trust the voice you hear, I can't deny what was in front of me. I saw that report and heard what the doctor said." He swallowed painfully. "Jarod is dead, Ethan, and we're just going to have to accept that."

"Not... dead..."

The two looked over at the empath and a tear dimmed Sydney's eye as he shook his head. "Yes, Angelo. He is."

Ethan turned on him angrily "Doesn't it tell you anything that both of us are being told he's alive?"

"It tells me," Sydney said quietly, "that you're in denial, and that Angelo is absorbing that emotion. It's the same sort of denial that I was in for the first two weeks."

"No, Sydney, I..."

"Ethan, please." The older man looked up. "She's got no reason to lie. If the Triumvirate had told us that Jarod had died and I'd seen an autopsy from them, I might have had my doubts, but this is from somebody totally unconnected with the Centre. She has no reason to make something like this up and that convinces me more than anything else that it's true."

As he got up to leave the room, he saw the expression in the eyes of the woman who had silently entered some time before and obviously heard at least some of what had passed. With an effort, he avoided Miss Parker's eye and Sydney closed the door softly behind himself as he left.

 

* * *

Sydney felt the pain in his head before he was fully awake and squinted into the bright sunlight as it streamed through his bedroom window. Struggling into a sitting position, Sydney waited for his eyes to adjust and then slowly got out of bed. He could feel vicious throbbing in his temples as he headed into the bathroom and moaned softly. The pain, which had begun soon after finding out about Jarod, had been gone for the last couple of weeks but it was clearly now back, and worse than he remembered it. As water filled the sink in front of him, he leaned his head against the tiles for a moment and then looked up at himself in the mirror.

"Sydney?"

Turning, he saw Michelle in the doorway. She walked over and slipped her arms around him. "Are you okay?"

"I'll survive."

"That pain's back, isn't it?"

He nodded silently.

"Why don't you go and see somebody about it?"

Shrugging, Sydney turned away. "It's probably nothing."

"But it might be something. Something serious."

"If it gets worse, I'll think about it."

"If it gets too much worse, you might not be able to think at all." She cast a frustrated look over her shoulder as she left the bathroom. "I'm going to start breakfast. Don't be too long."

 

* * *

"Dad, are you okay?"

Sydney looked up to meet his son's concerned gaze. "I'm fine. Really."

"Well, you don't look it." Nicholas looked up as his mother entered the room. "Have you noticed it too?"

"Of course I have." Michelle's tone was sharper than usual. "And I've been trying to persuade him to see someone about it for a year now."

Nicholas looked startled. "A year?"

"A little over, in fact, yes." Michelle got up as there was a knock on the door and opened it. "Miss Parker! How nice to see you."

"Hi, Michelle. We were in the neighborhood..."

"We?" Sydney glanced up to see Broots in the doorway behind Miss Parker and tried to smile.

"Hi, Syd."

Broots spoke before he looked at the older man, and then his eyes widened. A subtle nudge from Miss Parker made him keep silent as she spoke.

"We brought something that you might be interested in seeing."

She pulled a magazine out of the former technician's hand and, opening it at a certain page, gave it to Sydney.

"Debbie left it on the kitchen table when she went to school and I saw it." Broots sat in a chair that Michelle indicated, his eyes fixed on Sydney's face, seeing the emotion that appeared in the older man's eyes. "I told Parker about it and she suggested we bring it to show you."

Michelle looked over his shoulder to see the two models on the page. She couldn't recognize the woman, but thought that she would have known the man anywhere, having seen, every morning, a photo of Jarod that sat on a shelf in Sydney's room. The psychiatrist's voice, as he gazed down at the face, was choked.

"And... is it...?"

"It's an old shoot, Syd. More than two years old. We rang the magazine to be sure, but I thought you might want to see it anyway."

Sydney's eyes seemed caught in those of the man who stared out of the pages at him. Emotions that he had been suppressing for so long, aware that they swirled just below the surface, were now rising up and making it difficult to breath. Finally a movement from the other side of the room broke the spell and he looked up.

"Thank you."

Miss Parker nodded, her eyes on his face as he slowly rose. Michelle placed a hand on his arm.

"Where are you...?"

"I'll be right back."

 

* * *

It was Miss Parker who found him, slumped unconscious in the doorway of his bedroom, his face chalk-white, nearly twenty minutes later.

"Sydney?" She dropped to her knees and shook him. "Syd, wake up. Come on, look at me."

Placing one hand on his wrist, she found his pulse and was reassured that it was still fairly strong as she raised her voice and called for help.

"Dad?"

Nicholas knelt beside his father and rolled the man onto his side, feeling for pulse and respiration, before looking up at Broots. "Call an ambulance."

"No..."

The man's voice was faint and Nicholas looked down in time to see his father's eyes open as he slowly shook his head and struggled to sit up. His son prevented it. "Dad, you're not well. Surely you can see that. Let us take you to a doctor."

"No, I'm... fine." Sydney swallowed with difficulty. "I just need... rest."

"You'd rest better in a hospital. Then we could find out what's really wrong with you." He looked up as Miss Parker placed an arm around Michelle's shoulders. As Nicholas nodded, the younger woman led the older one back into the living room. The young man looked again at his father. "Dad, please. We're worried about you."

"No, Nicholas." Sydney pulled himself into a sitting positing, leaning against the doorframe. "I'll be fine."

"You don't look fine." With nobody to stop him, Broots spoke the words that were in his mind. "In fact, you look terrible."

"Thanks." Sydney smiled faintly and then looked at his son. "Just... help me into bed and then go check on your mother."

Nicholas raised an eyebrow, his eyes traveling over his father's white face. "Sure?"

"Positive."

 

* * *

Sydney glanced at Michelle, frustration evident on his face. "I think this is somewhat needless."

She looked at him. "Sydney, you've fainted four times in the last four months and that's four times too many for my liking. I'm tired of finding you lying on the floor." As emotion came into Michelle's eyes, she covered his hand with hers. "Please, I'm worried about you. We both are. Let's just see what she says."

He nodded slowly, slipping one arm around her shoulders. "All right."

She leaned back, resting her head on his arm and looking up at him. "And you'll do what she tells you to, right?"

"We'll see."

Michelle pulled away. "You'll what?!"

Sydney tried to smile. "I was only joking."

She narrowed her eyes. "I don't think I like your jokes."

 

* * *

"Sydney, I wish you'd come to see me earlier about this." The doctor looked up at the couple that sat opposite her. "I'm not comfortable with my own diagnosis. I want to send you to a specialist."

Michelle's voice was tense with anxiety. "Dr. Hutchinson, what do you think it is?"

The woman looked down at the results of the blood tests in front of her and then up again, with a sigh. "As I said, I'm not completely satisfied with my own diagnosis but it... looks like cancer." She eyed her patient with a certain degree of severity. "As a doctor yourself, Sydney, I would have expected you to see the warning signs and come to me earlier than this."

She looked down, quickly writing a letter, which she slid into an envelope, thereby missing the sharp glance that Michelle shot at Sydney, to which he responded with a weak smile.

"This is my referral to Dr. Crawford at St. Luke's. He's an expert in this field. His rooms are within the hospital itself, so I'd like you to go there and let him run all of the relevant tests there."

"St. Luke's?" Sydney, attention caught by the name, looked up. "Do you mean St. Luke's Hospital in Helena?"

"You know it?"

"I've been there once." He paused. "Has Dr. Crawford been there long?"

"As I understand it, no." Dr. Hutchinson handed the letter over and leaned back in her chair. "He's only been in his position as head of the hospital for five and a half months. But I've sent several other patients to him and I'm satisfied with him. I think he'll be able to give you the best treatment. I'll see if I can make an appointment for you now."

As she picked up the phone, Michelle saw the tears glinting in Sydney's eyes and placed on hand on his, her voice low.

"What is it?"

"That's the place where..."

"Jarod?"

He nodded speechlessly and looked down at the envelope. His breath caught in his throat as he held it out to her. She glanced from him down to the hand-written direction. Dr. Jarod Crawford. Michelle gently squeezed his hand and watched as he fought to keep away the tears.

"I've made an appointment for later this evening." The doctor looked up. "It's the only chance for some time, and I'd like to get the results as quickly as possible, so that you can begin treatment immediately. His secretary said she would arrange a hotel room for you close by, so you can get there easily."

The man looked up, startled. "A hotel?"

"Sydney, I want you to take it easy and you won't do that if you have to sort it out for yourself. My secretary will be able to give you the details when you leave and I'd suggest you go home, pack a few things for a couple of days' stay and then catch a train." She eyed him severely. "No driving, understand?"

He nodded and got to his feet, holding out a hand. "Thank you, Dr. Hutchinson."

"Give my compliments to Dr. Crawford when you see him."

"I will."

 

* * *

Sydney made his way slowly along the street, stopping in front of the familiar building and looking at it for several minutes, blinking the tears out of his eyes, before he slowly made his way up the few stairs.

"Can I help you sir?"

He smiled faintly at the woman. "Can you direct me to Dr. Crawford's rooms?"

"Which one, sir?"

Sydney looked startled. "Dr. Jarod Crawford." The name, for some reason, came out easily.

"Certainly." She smiled. "The elevators are just around the corner to the right and his consulting suite in on the first floor. You'll see the sign as soon as you get out of the lift."

"Thank you."

Sydney looked around as he waited for the elevator to arrive, hating deju vu he was experiencing. Dr. Austen's room had also been on the first floor. Struggling to suppress a shudder, the man got into the lift, and, as he had been instructed, saw the sign the moment that he came out. Dr. Jarod Crawford, and, below it, a sign for a Dr. Nicole Crawford. Slowly he walked in the direction that the first sign indicated.

 

* * *

He watched as a patient came out, speaking with the receptionist before leaving the office and he was alone in the waiting room. After a brief period, the woman lifted the receiver of the phone.

"Dr. Crawford?"

Sydney was unable to hear the response but could hear the next comment. "You have another patient to see. He made a late appointment on a referral from Dr. Hutchinson. I'm still filling out his card."

After a pause, she hung up the phone and then turned to him. "You can go in."

 

He smiled faintly at her as he stood and went over to the door, opening it and, without looking up, closed it behind him, his mind so busy that the words spoken by the occupant were nothing more than a low murmur. Slowly he turned, raising his eyes to look at the medical practitioner, and Sydney's eyes lit on the dark head bent over the paperwork. 

 

For an instant, just as he had on so many other occasions over the previous two years, he could have believed that the man at the desk was Jarod. He blinked, knowing that the delusion would vanish when he refocused, the same way it always had - but somehow, this time, it didn't. 

 

 

He narrowed his eyes, studying what he could of the man's features, unable to make sense of what he was seeing. Blinked again. Stared. And, as the man turned his head to look at the folder to his right, Sydney heard a gasp that he only realised at the last minute was coming from his mouth. 

 

The other man glanced up at the sound, and despite the new addition of the glasses over which the doctor looked, Sydney could no longer doubt the evidence of his eyes. 

 

"Jarod?" he demanded as a gaping sense of disbelief opened inside him, swallowing the ever-present pain in his head. 

 

"Sydney?!" The man removed his glasses and stood up. "What are you...?"

 

The voice banished the last remnants of doubt, even if the question of how this was possible remained. "I could ask you the same question," he retorted, unable to keep the sharpness out of his voice. 

 

"Sit down." Jarod waved at the chair on the other side of the desk and resumed his seat, his dark eyes travelling over Sydney's face.

 

Sydney sat down, thankful to do so as his knees turned suddenly weak with the emotions filling him. "Aren't you supposed to be dead?" he pointed out, his mind suddenly full of the autopsy pictures that were a frequent feature of his nightmares.

 

"I just haven't stopped moving yet," came the reply in Jarod's most teasing tones, and Sydney felt suddenly angry at the flippant manner in which everything he had suffered was being dismissed. Perhaps Jarod realised this, because his next words held none of the light-heartedness of his earlier comment. "Jarod Hamilton has dead and has been for quite a while now."

 

Two years, one month and eight days, Sydney said to himself. 

 

"Jarod Crawford is alive, well, and running a large hospital in Helena, Montana," that man finished. 

 

"But - why?" Sydney demanded, that same sense of disbelief filling him again. 

 

"It's a long story." Jarod gave a small sigh and leaned forward, activating what was clearly a small intercom on his desk. 

 

Sydney paid no attention to the interaction between the man and his secretary, instead running his eyes over the contents of the room in which he sat. He paid special attention to the numerous framed certificates on the walls, wondering if any of them were genuine, and moreover how Jarod had managed to wangle himself the position as head of a hospital. 

 

Even as he thought this, Jarod finished the conversation and looked up at him. "Did you come because you realised it was me," the younger man offered, "or because you actually wanted to consult me?"

 

Sydney couldn't help smiling rather wryly, and perhaps with a hint of bitterness, at this. "I was intending to consult a doctor," he retorted.

 

"You are." 

 

Jarod's hands gestured at the certificates, and Sydney narrowed his eyes slightly, not taken in. 

 

"No, I meant a real doctor," he retorted, quite prepared to argue the point, even if he had complete faith in Jarod's ability to carry out the pretence quite as far as either of them deemed necessary. 

 

"Again, you are," Jarod insisted, and something about his tone was surprisingly reassuring, even if he grinned at the way Sydney's expression clearly changed to reflect his thoughts, "and I really am one now." He held out a hand. "Can I see the referral please?"

 

It was on the tip of Sydney's tongue to correct the younger man's grammar, but he restrained himself, merely offering the envelope from Dr Hutchinson. While Jarod glanced over the two-page letter, Sydney studied the younger man's features, reaquainting himself with Jarod's appearance, still not quite believing that this was truly happening. 

 

"Do you want me to run the tests you were sent here for?" Jarod asked at last, returning the letter to its envelope.

 

"I suppose you'd better," Sydney replied, unable to help wondering what Michelle would say if he returned home without having done so. 

 

Amused comprehension sparkled in Jarod's eyes. "Should I assume you aren't here of your own accord?"

 

"Michelle's been talking me into it for a while," was all Sydney would concede, but he was fairly sure that Jarod understood what he was not saying. 

 

Jarod was clearly about to reply to this when a knock at the door interrupted the conversation. "Yes?" he called out instead, and Sydney's eyes saw Jarod take a quick glance at the clock on his desk before looking at the door.

 

"Jarod," a female voice began, and Sydney knew at once that this woman was familiar, even if he could not place her voice right away. "I wanted to ask if you were ready to go," she continued, and then peered around the door, her manner changing immmediately. "Oh, I'm sorry, Dr Crawford," she apologised, taking a step forward, although Sydney could still not quite make out her features as they were still hidden by the heavy wooden door. "I didn't know you had a patient with you."

 

"No problem, Nicole." Jarod's tone was light, and Sydney heard more in it than mere professional courtesy. Suspicion sprang to his mind at once, and he cast a sharp glance in Jarod's direction. However the younger man had his attention focused on the door and never saw it, continuing almost too casually, "Come in. Recognise a familiar face?"

 

The woman walked into the room, and now Sydney understood exactly why she had seemed so familiar. As if he could ever forget the sound of her voice on the phone, nor her face as he had stood in her office and received the autopsy report. She clearly found him just as easy to identify. 

 

"Sydney!" Her eyes were wide. "What are you doing here?"

 

"Dr Austen." He swallowed a lump in his throat as he began to understand just how all-encompassing this pretence had been. "So you knew all along..."

 

"I don't like making things up," she admitted, and he could hear the guilt in her tones, "but it seemed like the best thing to do in the circumstances."

 

"What...?" he began, but had no chance to finish the question. 

 

"I think," Jarod interrupted, "this discussion would be better in a more comfortable environment, like at home. Sydney, are you at a hotel?"

 

"A few blocks away, yes," Sydney agreed. 

 

"And is Michelle...?"

 

"No, I came on my own," Sydney admitted, remembering how insistent he had been on that point, to the extent that they had had an argument on the way home from the appointment with Dr Hutchinson. Sydney had also not been about to admit that he had had no intention of submitting himself to any tests suggested by the specialist. Nor that his attitude regarding that determination had undergone a complete reversal given what he had discovered in this room. 

 

Jarod studied him for a moment, and Sydney had the feeling that the younger man knew exactly what Sydney would not have said out loud. Then he turned to the woman standing quietly to the side of the desk. Sydney glanced the same way and saw, for the first time, the gold band on the ring finger of Nicole Austen's left hand, and which he was somehow certain was new since the last time he had seen her. A quick glance at Jarod did not satisfy Sydney's curiosity on the subject as that man's left hand was concealed beneath his right as they rested on the envelope in front of him. However Sydney was unable to help feeling that the framed photo on one corner of the desk, and which he could not see from his present position, would be a wedding picture featuring the two people in front of him. 

 

"Nicole," Jarod said at last, "what say you get the guest room ready for company and make us some coffee, or, even better, dinner? We'll be there in about half an hour."

 

The woman smiled and turned to the door. "I'll be waiting," she remarked as she opened the door, and closed it behind herself the next moment. 

 

Sydney turned back to Jarod in time to see that man pick up a number of slips and pulled a face inwardly as he realised what they were. Jarod left him in no doubt. 

 

"These are the test orders for tomorrow," he said, picking up the phone. "They don't normally do appointments on Saturdays, but I'll get them to make an exception for you. If you'll just give me a moment..."

 

Listening to the teasing banter between Jarod and the person on the other end of the line, Sydney suddenly realised how much must have happened in that man's life over the past two years. It was clear that he was well-known, and also well-regarded, in this place, not least for him to have been appointed by the hospital board to the position he now held - a position that seemed genuine and not a pretend, as it might once have been. 

 

Finally the dark-haired man finished writing times and details on the slips, handing them over as he hung up the phone, and Sydney's eye was caught by the gleam of gold on Jarod's left hand as he put down the receiver. There was a teasing tone in Jarod's voice as he spoke. 

"What is it, Sydney?"

 

"Are you - married?" he asked, deciding at the last minute to ask the question directly instead of hinting at it as he had considered doing when he first became suspicious of the matter. 

 

Jarod lifted his left hand so that the thick gold band was all too clear. "For almost six months, yes," he agreed. 

 

"To Dr. Austen?" Sydney prompted, and was amused by the heightened color that flushed Jarod's cheeks. 

 

"Is it that obvious?" he demanded, grinning, and then rose to his feet. "Come on, let's get your things. I won't have you in a hotel while you're a patient of mine."

 

Sydney stood up and watched as Jarod patted his pockets, clearly checking that he had everything, before turning off the lamp on his desk and coming around to the other side of the room where Sydney waited. The younger man waved him out of the consulting room into the empty waiting room, picking up the keys from his receptionist's desk. A moment later, when they stood in the hallway, Jarod locked the outer door, putting the key into a key-safe attached to the wall outside the door, and then slid his hand around Sydney's arm in a supportive hold as they walked towards the elevators. 

 

The warm, firm grasp of Jarod's hand caused a flush of emotion in Sydney that brought tears to his eyes, but the man blinked them away. Still, it was proof of how much he meant to the younger man, and that, after such a long time, went some way to healing the sore place in his heart that had been there for more than two years. 

 

It was as they were getting into the elevator that Sydney noticed the way Jarod leaned more to the right, favouring that leg over the other, and finally spotted the slight limp that was more obvious as they came out into the underground carpark. His anxiety about what had caused what was clearly not a new injury made him wonder again just what had happened to Jarod over the past two years, and Sydney waited impatiently for an opportunity to bring up the subject as Jarod approached a car and unlocked it, gesturing at Sydney to get in. 

 

* * *

He raised the fork to his mouth, eating a small amount of meat and with his eyes fixed on the man seated opposite, who protested indignantly.

"Sydney, it's hard to eat under such close scrutiny!"

"Oh, come on, Jarod." Nicole sipped her wine, smiling. "He hasn't seen you for so long that surely he's allowed to look at you."

"I don't mind him looking at me." Jarod put the fork down beside his plate and looked up. "But it's making me feel ever so slightly self-conscious when I'm being inspected at such close quarters." He paused. "I don't think Sydney would be very happy if I was doing it to him - and, as his doctor, I'm even allowed to!"

Laughing, Jarod continued to eat the meal his wife had prepared, looking up occasionally. Finally Nicole broke the silence.

"I just had a thought."

"Did it hurt?" her husband enquired, laughing.

She playfully slapped Jarod's arm. "Thanks ever so much!"

"You're ever so welcome."

Sydney looked over at her. "What was your thought, Dr. Austen?"

Jarod sent a mock-glare over the table at him. "Two points to remember, here, Sydney. First, and foremost, she's married now."

"Dr. Crawford, then." Sydney's lips twitched as he pronounced the name. "What's the second?"

"She has got a first name."

"I couldn't..."

"I'd rather you did, Sydney." Nicole reached out to place a hand over his. "We don't usually invite patients around for dinner, so that puts you in a special league immediately. And secondly, after everything I've heard about you, I don't think I could bear it if we used titles and surnames all the time. So, please, call me Nicole and I'll call you Sydney. After all," she laughed, "I called you that the first time we ever spoke."

Jarod grinned. "And very impolite it was, too."

"Well, you should have put his last name into your phone and then it would have been easier."

"All you had to do was ask."

"Uh, Jarod, dear, might I remind you that you weren't supposed to be particularly conscious at the time. As far as most people knew, you were as unconscious as it gets."

"Hmm, yes," Jarod mused. "I had forgotten, actually. Funny how life gets in the way of little things like that."

In an effort to hide the emotion he felt at Jarod's words, Sydney spoke again. "So what was your thought, Nicole?"

Hearing the tone of his voice, Jarod looked up sharply but remained silent. His wife answered the question with a smile. "I was thinking that one of you should probably call Michelle once as we've finished dinner. I'm sure she's worried. After all," Nicole cast a teasing glance at her husband and then at Sydney. "You've been to see a specialist who's the head of the hospital, which must make him..."

She stopped suddenly as Jarod placed one hand over her mouth. "While I might think your idea's a good one, I'm not going to let you finish that sentence, no matter how much you might want to."

"You never like flattery." Her voice was slightly muffled but still audible.

"Nor do you." His eyes twinkled. "I have a vague recollection, one day when I was still a patient at our hospital, of a certain Dr. Barnard being flattering at the same time as he was trying to get me off his hands, and you..."

She wriggled out from his grasp and placed her own hand over his mouth, laughing as she spoke. "You ought to have been in no fit state even for vague recollections at that time." Nicole narrowed her eyes. "Or had you pulled your I.V. out again and were just pretending to be sedated?"

"Hey, I promised!" he protested indignantly.

His wife looked over at Sydney. "Does he keep his promises?"

"Well, he used to," the older man admitted.

Jarod caught the tone in his voice and the amusement died out of his eyes. He put his knife and fork together on the plate and looked up.

"Should we call Michelle?"

 

* * *

"Do you have everything you need, Sydney?"

He looked up to find Jarod leaning against the doorframe with his arms folded and a smile on his face.

"I think so." Sydney glanced around. "This part of the house is newer than downstairs, isn't it?"

"Yes. While we were vacationing after the wedding, the house was renovated so that it was better suited to a family and not two single people." Jarod grinned. "They even managed to get it done on time."

"You didn't build it yourself, then?"

"Hey, I'm a doctor! Doctors don't build!"

Sydney's lips twitched in amusement. "And builders don't usually doctor."

"So when was I a builder?"

"Oh, at some point, I'm sure." The look of humor vanished. "In fact, I'd suggest that was how you and Thomas met."

"You're right." Jarod stepped into the room, his own face serious and eyes sad. "It was."

"I thought so." Sydney swallowed hard. "One day Parker started talking to me about comparisons between the two of you." He looked up. "It was hard on her when she thought you'd died, Jarod."

"Death is never easy, Sydney. Even for the deceased." Jarod hesitated. "By doing what we did, it meant that I was cut off from everyone that I may have wanted to contact - my family, you, in fact all the people who were important to me. But it seemed like the only possible solution at the time. Regardless of the way I was, they would still have dragged me back and worked out a way to get me to do simulations. I couldn't even walk at the time, let alone run, so the chances of them catching me were high."

Sydney nodded. "I can understand how you would have felt that way. I just wish, after you knew it was all over, that you'd let us know you were still alive." His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "How did your family find out?"

"Just a sec. I'll show you."

He heard Jarod's footsteps descending the stairs and used the time to sit in the chair beside the bed with a weary sigh.

"Tired?"

Sydney stared up at him in disbelief. "How on earth did you hear that all the way down there?"

Jarod raised an eyebrow, grinning. "I've just lived for months without sight. As you, of all people, should know, it improves your hearing." He held out an album so that Sydney could see a copy of the picture showing himself and the former head of the hospital. "They found that and realized it had to mean I was still alive, so they came by and gave me the fright of my life by sneaking up on me one day when I was in the park." He chuckled, taking the book out of the older man's hands. "And now, as your doctor, I'm ordering you to go to bed."

Sydney rolled his eyes. "You're going to take this all the way, aren't you?"

"Oh, of course," Jarod grinned. "With such a wonderful opportunity, I'd be silly not to, wouldn't you say?"

 

* * *

 

"Goodnight, Sydney." 

 

Sydney watched as the door closed behind Jarod, seeming to see that man's smiling features even after he had been alone for several minutes. There was still a faint sense of disbelief in him that this was real, that everything he had thought and felt and believed for the past two years could have been upended in such a ludicruously short time.

 

Perhaps he should be angry, should rage against the lie that had had such an impact on his life. 

 

He couldn't, though. Not with Jarod.

 

Part of Sydney could understand the fear that would have driven Jarod to go to such extreme measures. The fact that he continued to limp even after two years showed the severity of injuries that would have made running impossible, and Sydney's own experience of blindness meant that he could easily empathise with everything the younger man had suffered in that respect. The inability to keep track of his pursuers would only have magnified that terror.  

 

If anything hurt at all, it was the knowledge that Jarod had not contacted him in all that time. He tried to imagine how it might have happened, what he would have said if he had answered the phone to find Jarod on the other end. 

 

Sydney was forced to admit to himself that he would have refused to believe it, that, once he had finally accepted the idea of Jarod's death, he would have been unable to accept the new reality of the inverted situation. Only an event such as that which occurred today, unexpected and shocking as it had been, could have forced this new truth on him. That Jarod was not gone forever. That all those lost opportunities Sydney had mourned for so long were not out of reach after all. That they would have time to spend together again...

 

At that moment Sydney realised tears were sliding down his cheeks. He reached up to wipe them away, staring at the glistening dampness on his fingertips, and inhaled a shaky breath. Blinking hard, he changed out of his clothes and into the pajamas he had packed only a few hours earlier, when the world had seemed like a much harder and darker place than it did now. 

 

It was as he settled into bed and turned off the light that he heard the muted sounds of voices from the other room. Making out individual words was impossible, but the timbre of Jarod's voice was unmistakable and seemed to resonate within Sydney. A reassurance that he was still here. The final whispers inside him that questioned this reality were finally silenced and he could really, truly believe it. 

 

Sydney put his face into his hands and wept. 

 

Relief and thankfulness and pure, impossible joy made it difficult for him not to sob aloud, but he stifled the sounds, wiping at the fast-flowing tears with the sleeve of his jacket. 

 

Perhaps counter-intuitively, the pain in his head that seemed to have found a home there for two years eased as he let the tears flow, and he wondered at that, even as he realised that this was the first time he had properly let himself cry since first receiving Dr Austen's phone call. In that room, the sounds of muffled voices carrying softly through the walls, Sydney finally let himself experience all of the pain and grief he had been carrying for two long years, even if he knew that it had all been for nothing. Perhaps it was for this reason that he allowed himself to let it all go. 

 

It took a long time for the tears to run out, but, at last, exhausted, he was able to wipe the final traces of them from his cheeks and rest his head back against the pillow. His temples ached again, as they had done for months, but it was a different pain now, not so sharp, and he knew it would be gone in the morning. 

 

There was another deep murmuring from the other side of the wall, and he lightly pressed his hand against the smooth paintwork. 

 

"Goodnight, Jarod," he said softly, and then closed his eyes and, for the first time in more than two years, fell asleep immediately. 

 

* * *

"Why do you call him that?" 

Ann glanced at Sydney. "What 'Mystery Man'?" She laughed. "When Jarod turned up at the hospital, he had no identification and nobody he wanted us to contact. That was interesting to start with but then I began to learn all sorts of things about him, including the fact that the last name he gave us wasn't his real one. After that, I learnt about the Centre."

He looked at her in astonishment as she steered the car out of the hospital parking lot. "You knew about that? How?"

"Nicole told me, in case someone, like Lyle for instance, decided to come and ask me questions."

Sydney nodded. "So you know about me, too."

"Not really. Nicole thought you'd be the least likely person to come."

"I did think about it on a few occasions," he admitted. "But I didn't really want to know."

"I can imagine." Ann's voice was soft. "I think that in the same situation, I wouldn't have wanted to know either."

Blinking to erase the memory of the autopsy pictures from his mind, he looked up at her. "But you weren't ever his doctor?"

"Not really. My work is in Emergency. I patch them up and then hand them on to someone else to deal with." Ann rolled her eyes. "And in his case, I was glad to do so."

Sydney raised an eyebrow. "Jarod was a difficult patient?"

"Well, let's just say that's the only time I ever heard that name and the word 'patient' in the same sentence..."

 

* * *

Sydney looked up as Jarod was drying his hands and found the younger man watching him. "I'm not your patient anymore, Dr. Crawford," he laughed. "So I think you've just lost the right that you claimed last night."

"Not at all." Jarod grinned. "You're still under medical supervision - at least until you get rid of the traces of those shadows under your eyes, anyway. And your newly-found fainting tendencies."

"Michelle told you about that, I take it."

"She and Dr. Hutchinson. But I think it was rather careless of you not to tell me yourself." Jarod became more serious. "I would have kept a closer eye on your blood pressure."

"There's nothing wrong with me," the psychiatrist insisted.

"And Michelle was very relieved to hear me say so."

The older man raised an eyebrow. "So you told her before you told me?"

"I'd had the results delivered to me just before she rang so I told her while I wrote up my report. I didn't think you'd mind."

Sydney nodded slowly and then looked up again. "What else did you say to her that you haven't told me yet?"

Jarod raised his hands innocently. "What makes you think that?"

"That very familiar expression that I can see in your eyes right now makes me know that." Sydney caught Nicole's eye. "It's the same as the one I was telling you about earlier."

"I should never have left you two alone together," the younger man muttered.

"Well, you did, so it's a little late for regrets now."

"Thanks." Jarod looked at his wife. "Your support is invaluable."

She laughed. "Hey, I can't support both of you at once!"

He smiled at her and then turned to stare out of the window for several moments.

"Jarod," the other man stated flatly, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Well?"

"You still haven't told me what it was."

Jarod raised an eyebrow as he looked over. "And my dad called me tenacious!"

"Are you going to tell me what it was or not?"

He rolled his eyes, looking up to see the expression of amusement on his wife's face. "For that, Nicole, you can say it. After all, it was your idea, not mine."

"Oh, you would have come up with it eventually. After all, you're the genius."

"But you were the one who did come up with it, so you can ask him."

"Are you sure you don't want to?"

"Is anybody going to say it or should I give up hoping here and now?"

Jarod laughed as he looked at Sydney. "What happened to the tenacity?"

Nicole smiled. "It was an idea I came up with last night." She glanced at Sydney, her face serious. "As you know, we had a new bed delivered today and it struck me that we seemed to have a new occupant delivered as well." Her lips twitched as she saw the laughter in her husband's eyes. "So what I'd like to ask is whether you and Michelle would like to consider this as much your home as anywhere else that you've been living."

Darkness Series
Part 14: In A New Light


"Miss Parker's left already?"

Jarod looked up from a bowl in which he was mixing something. "Temporarily only. She's going to collect a few other people who still think I'm dead and bring them back here for dinner."

"And you're cooking?" Nicole queried.

"I would have asked you if you wanted to, but I could hear you chatting to Ann on the phone and thought this was easier."

"Where's Sydney?"

"Waiting for Michelle." He smiled faintly and looked down again while Charlie hovered around his feet, hoping for a scrap of food.

"You're nervous," his wife teased.

"No more than I was before, but kind of, yes." He looked up. "Resurrection isn't a thing I'm used to."

Nicole’s eyes twinkled as she slipped both arms around his waist. "Hey, it's a once-in-a-lifetime experience."

"What, you mean that was it?" He stared at her in horror. "I hoped to make it an annual event."

She laughed, kissing him. "Sorry, no. I don't think I could cope if we had to go through it all over again."

"Okay," he teased, "next time, you can think I'm dead too, I promise."

"That won't make it any easier, Jarod."

He looked up to find Sydney standing in the doorway and narrowed his eyes. "I never thought you were the type that would eavesdrop."

"Well, you were hardly keeping your voices down, either of you," he smiled as he walked into the room and leaned against the bench.

"We aren't used to having somebody else who could overhear our conversations, Sydney," Jarod laughed as Nicole left the room. "It'll take a little getting used to."

"You could always rescind your offer."

Jarod looked at the psychiatrist and then caught the eye of the woman standing behind the older man, his own eyes twinkling. "No, I think we'll let the offer stand the way it is. While I might knock it back to you, I couldn’t be that rude to Michelle."

"For that you'd have to wait until she arrived," Sydney remarked.

"She's got ten seconds. If she's not here in that time..." Jarod leaned back against the bench and looked at his watch as Sydney shot a sharp, knowing glance in his direction before turning quickly to see the women standing behind him.

* * *

Jarod looked up as Michelle followed him into the kitchen and took the mugs out of her hand with a smile.

"Are you sure, Dr. Crawford?"

"My name's Jarod, Michelle, and yes, I am sure."

"It's a lovely offer..."

Turning, he looked at her as he leaned against the sink. "I understand that it’s a little unexpected. After all, you called to speak to the specialist and ended up with me." He laughed. "But Sydney's like another member of my family and I really would like the thought that he's around, particularly after so long not being able to talk to him." Jarod hesitated. "I'm not saying that you have to move here completely and leave everything at your house behind. All we're offering is a room here for the two of you whenever you want. And one for Nicholas as well, if he'd like it."

"He... Sydney… looks a lot better," the woman hazarded.

Jarod smiled. "He is a lot better. And I’d expect him only to continue to improve, particularly now that he's eating and sleeping again properly."

"So... I don't..."

He walked over and placed an arm around her shoulders. "Michelle, I know you've been worrying about getting him back, only to lose him again, and I felt the same way on the first night he was here, but, as his doctor, I can tell you that you don't have to worry about that anymore." Jarod felt Michelle begin to sob softly. "I can imagine how awful the last eighteen months have been for both of you and I feel terrible about that - I honestly do. But he isn't sick anymore and he'll soon be back to the way he was before, if not better. He won’t have any more fainting or pain, at least not from that source. And I'll be keeping a firm eye on him to make sure that he won't neglect himself again, I promise you."

* * *

Jarod's eyes gleamed with laughter as he looked up from his desk to see the gate open and Miss Parker and a group of other people, walk through it. Knowing they couldn't see him, he remained at his desk, hearing his wife open the door and usher them inside.

"Dr… Austen?"

"Actually, it's Dr. Crawford now, Mr. Broots."

"Dad, what's going on?"

"She didn't tell you, Nicholas?"

"No, she just said that you would like to see me."

"Miss Parker, what on earth…?"

Hearing the group walk towards the living room, Jarod stood up from behind his desk, slipping his glasses into his pocket, as he eased open the door. Going out of the room that he had once slept in, he followed them all down the hall, only stopping when one person, having lingered behind the rest, turned and saw him.

"Jarod!"

The empath flung his arms around the other man and hugged him fiercely.

"Hi, Angelo."

"Not dead..." the younger man murmured in delight.

"No, Angelo, I'm not.” Jarod embraced him firmly. “You were right."

"Happy."

"Yes,” he agreed, smiling. “I'm very happy now."

Jarod ushered Angelo into the living room, listening to the conversation as he appeared, unseen, in the doorway and waited there.

"Where's Angelo?" Broots demanded.

Nicole's lips twitched. "He probably stopped to say hello to an old friend."

Ethan raised his head sharply, suddenly suspicious, and looked at her. "This 'old friend' wouldn't share your surname by any chance, would he?"

Jarod laughed as he walked in. "How did you guess, brother?" He seated himself beside his wife. "Incidentally, it really should be yours, too."

There was long moment of silence, during which time Jarod made a determined effort not to look at either Sydney or Miss Parker and knew that they were doing the same.

"Jarod?"

"Well done, Mr. Broots. I thought you would have forgotten me after all this time."

"How...?"

"Resurrection." He felt his wife's suppressed laughter. "Unless you can think of an easier way."

"So she was right."

"Yes, Ethan." The urge to laugh dissolved as he looked up. "Catherine was right when she told you I was still alive, and that there was a good reason for it."

"How did you...?"

"Sydney told me yesterday." His eyes became sad. "I want to apologize to you all for everything you've gone through over the last few months. I know it can't have been easy."

Miss Parker looked up. "It would have been a lot easier to destroy the Centre if you'd helped us."

He shrugged. "If I'd been there, you probably wouldn't have been."

"Well, possibly..."

* * *

"Parker?"

"Yes, Jarod?" She looked over as she picked up the plate he had just placed on the drying rack.

"What happened to...” he hesitated, “your brother?"

"Lyle?" She looked startled. "I thought you knew."

"I only really know about the general things - like how you did it. I haven't asked about specifics."

Miss Parker sighed and put the plate on the bench beside her. "After he was arrested - I assume you knew about that - several of the other groups were afraid that, if he started talking, he might incriminate them too."

"So they had him killed," the man finished softly.

She nodded. "It was a vaguely similar set-up to the one..."

"With Thomas' assumed killer." Jarod saw the tears that filled her eyes and came over, putting an arm around her shoulders. "Parker, I'm so sorry."

"I'm not angry, Jarod." She looked up at him. "Not anymore."

"But you were."

"I was angry at the situation. Not at you. It seemed, the more I was convinced you were dead, the less I thought about the last few years and the more I thought about the way it was before."

"With us… as friends."

She nodded silently and he drew back, looking down at her face. With a gentle hand he wiped the tears from her cheeks. "I never thought I'd say that again."

"You didn't simulate it?"

He looked down, seeing the faint smile on her face. "Actually, yes. I simulated the situation after Nicole called Sydney. There would still have been time, then, for me to change it, to call and say she was wrong. But, like I said earlier, I couldn't find any other way than what we did."

"So all the time we thought you were dead..."

"I was trying to kill myself in alternative ways." He grinned as his wife entered the kitchen. "Like falling on the corner of the bathtub..."

"And falling in love," Miss Parker added. "That's almost as fatal."

"Well, you should know," he teased. "From what I've seen this evening..."

Miss Parker tried to look innocent. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"I think Broots might have something to say about that."

* * *

Jarod walked into the living room, glancing around at the other occupants, as Sydney spoke.

"Is everyone gone?"

Nicholas grinned. "Did you think maybe he'd shut somebody in the closet, Dad, or locked them in his study?"

"Hey!” Jarod sent a mock glare across the room. “Have you been snooping?"

"Well, I wanted to know what the house looked like before I decided to move in."

Nicole laughed as she handed her husband a mug and he sat down beside her, wrapping an arm around her waist, Charlie flopping across his feet with a sigh. "We're glad you made that decision, Nicholas."

"It wasn't hard." He glanced at his father. "And it means I can keep an eye on certain other people who are living here now."

"That's my job!" Jarod protested indignantly, narrowing his eyes. "Are you trying to do my work for me, Nicholas?"

"Only if I can get paid that well."

Jarod laughed and glanced at his watch, raising an eyebrow. "So I guess that means you'll do my seven thirty surgery as well."

"Seven thirty? Uh, no,” the younger man protested faintly. “You go ahead, that's fine."

"If I can be awake in time."

Sydney looked up, an amused look on his face. "Is that a subtle hint, Jarod?"

"Not at all." He stood up. "It's your house. You can go to bed whenever you want. But I'm heading off now, or else, tomorrow morning," he caught his wife's eye and grinned, "I might operate on the wrong end."

* * *

Jarod filled his mug before looking up to see Sydney in the doorway. "Are you mad? Do you have any idea of what time it is?"

"Of course. We have a clock."

"So what are you doing up already?"

"I asked for his help today."

Jarod narrowed his eyes as his wife followed Sydney walked into the room. "Do you do anything for yourself anymore or do you just depend on other people?"

"Hey, I only asked you once."

"And you've only asked Sydney once - so far," he retorted somewhat sharply.

Nicole laughed before sitting beside him and gently squeezing his hand. "What's wrong?"

Jarod's eyes widened slightly. "How did you...?"

"I'm married to you, Jarod. I'm supposed to know if something's wrong." She glanced at Sydney, who nodded. "In fact, we talked about that last night."

Jarod rolled his eyes before reaching into his shirt pocket and pulling out a folded letter, handing it to her and draining his mug as she read it. "What do you make of that?"

"They want you to treat one of the prisoners?"

Sydney looked up. "Can one of you either tell me or show me?"

"I received a letter from the justice department yesterday asking me to come and examine one of their inmates,” the younger man replied. “When I called, I was told it was felt this person required specialist care and it would be best if I was called in."

"It's just another patient, Jarod," the psychiatrist reminded him.

He shook his head, refolding the letter. "I have a bad feeling about this but I’m not sure why."

"I could come with you."

"I thought you were going to work with my wife."

"I could come with you this morning and her this afternoon," Sydney paused, a smile on his face, "unless you think I could be in two places at once."

* * *

"It's a prisoner who's been on death row for almost a year, since the end of his trial. After you give us a diagnosis, we'll decide whether to go on from there."

"So why am I being called in?" Jarod asked the man opposite him as Sydney sat quietly at his right.

"We want this prisoner to survive long enough to be executed, if possible."

"And when will that take place?"

"No idea." The head of the jail shrugged. "He's still got several levels of appeal to go through first and, although we're confident that none of them will succeed, we can't set a fixed date until that's all finished."

Jarod nodded slowly. "And did I understand that you had him transferred here?"

"From interstate, yes. He was in Delaware."

Sydney saw Jarod stiffen. "And the trial finished a year ago?"

"Yes, Dr. Crawford, but it was all very quiet so I doubt you'd have heard anything about it."

"Right, good." Jarod looked up from the notes he had made. "Well, shall we get this out of the way?"

* * *

Jarod followed one of the guards into the room and looked over at the patient as he sat in a chair. Somehow the features weren't a surprise. He’d had an idea of what to expect, some feeling that told him who it would be, but the look on the other man's face told Jarod that his appearance was more than just a shock.

"How the...?"

The doctor tried not to smirk. "We meet again, Mr. Parker."

"Jarod?!"

"Dr. Crawford, if you don't mind." Jarod could hear the dignity that he had never previously been allowed to display in front of this man making his voice cold. He took a seat in the empty chair, watching as the guards took their places at the door, and then opened the folder on the desk in front of him.

"What are you doing here?” the older man hissed furiously. “What are you still doing alive?"

Jarod saw the look of anger that was in the man's eyes and suddenly felt an urge to laugh. "You should have checked your facts, Mr. Parker. You know that I can become anyone I want to be - even somebody dead." He looked ddown at the papers he held and then back up. "So you've been experiencing pain?"

"You'd be experiencing a lot more if we were alone," the man spat.

"And that is the exact reason we aren't. Presumably it's also the reason that you and I were never alone in a room together at the Centre: you weren't sure what I might do." There was amusement in Jarod's eyes. "Shall we continue?"

"I want a real doctor."

"That's exactly what you've got. I am a qualified medical practitioner, an expert in this field, and I was called in because it seems you've been unwell." Jarod leaned forward slightly and lowered his voice, a smile on his face. "Is it true, Mr. Parker or were you just - pretending?"

* * *

"Jarod?"

He looked up as the door was closed behind him to find Sydney leaning against the wall. "Did you see?"

"Yes." Sydney's lips twitched but he endeavored to keep the amusement out of his voice. "I heard too."

"Dr. Crawford? Is everything okay?"

"Fine, thank you, warden." He reached into a folder, extracting a sheet of paper, which he handed over. "This is a list of tests I'd like you to run on the prisoner." Sydney saw the light that appeared in Jarod's eyes as he said the word and tried not to smile. "As soon as I get the results, I'll send a full report."

"Thank you." The man looked up. "So I'll hear from you in a few days?"

"Yes, you will." Jarod shook the warden’s hand before he and Sydney headed for the exit of the building.

"Are you going to tell Miss Parker?" the psychiatrist queried as they passed through the security checkpoint.

"You've said that before."

"Jarod, I'm serious."

The younger man sighed. "I don't know. I think I'd rather wait until I get the results of the tests. If he's as seriously ill as the report suggests, there probably isn't a lot of point."

Sydney glanced over. "You handled it well."

"I never thought I'd have to see him again." Jarod's voice was soft.

"What can he do to you now?"

"Expose me."

"As what?” the older man demanded. “You're a qualified medical practitioner and you earned your position as head of St. Luke's Hospital. In addition to all that, you're highly respected in your field. How could he expose you?"

Jarod stared down at the roof of the car for a moment before unlocking the vehicle. "I don't know, Sydney."

"You don't have to be scared of him anymore."

"Just because I don't have to be doesn't mean I'm not," Jarod murmured.

"I thought you got rid of your nightmares from the Centre."

"The Centre, yes, but not of him."

"So now you can face them too."

"I'm not ready for this."

"You never would be."

Jarod glanced at his companion, a look of curiosity in his eyes. "Did you work out that it would be him as well?"

"I never thought about it," Sydney confessed.

"And what did you think when you first saw him?"

"I wondered what you'd do," the older man replied quietly.

"And what did I do?"

"Exactly what I thought you would. You faced him and came out of it well."

"I'll have to see him again."

"You could hand him on to someone else..." Sydney made the statement with intent and watched as Jarod started the car.

"No, I couldn't."

The older man nodded slightly. "And why not?"

"Because I was the one who was asked to do it - and because, if I don't, it will only haunt me."

"I'm glad you understand that."

* * *

"Sydney, can I have a word?"

"Of course, Nicole." The psychiatrist put down the book he was currently reading, looking up as she came into the living room. "What is it?"

"It's Jarod."

He nodded silently, waiting for her to continue.

"He's started having nightmares again."

"About the Centre," he finished for her.

She looked up, startled. "How did you know?"

"I've been expecting it - and I heard them."

"Why now, Sydney? It's been almost two years."

"Because of the new patient that he's got, the one in prison."

Nicole sat back in the chair, looking over at him. "But that was two days ago."

"I assume he got the results of the tests today and knows he'll have to see him again tomorrow."

She nodded slowly. "He got over that fear..."

"Of the Centre. Not necessarily of all the people involved." Sydney sighed. "If his patient were, for instance, Raines, it would be even worse."

"Thank you for that suggestion, Sydney. It really helps."

They both looked up to find Jarod standing at the head of the stairs, hands deep in the pockets of his dressing gown, Charlie at his heels.

"I thought you were asleep," the psychiatrist proposed.

"I was,” the other man agreed. “Then certain memories replayed in living sound and color, so now I'm awake again."

Jarod descended the stairs and curled himself up on the window seat, staring into the darkness.

"Did you get the results today?" Sydney queried.

"You know I did."

"And?"

Jarod sighed. "Six weeks. Maximum. Probably less."

"And there's nothing you can do?"

"No. Any treatments I could prescribe would only make the rest of his short life more unpleasant. It might prolong it for three or four weeks, but that's all."

"You're sure?"

Jarod glanced over. "I got two other doctors to look over the results as well, just to be sure that I wasn't allowing my emotions to get in the way. Their prognosis was even less encouraging than mine. Four weeks."

"And… what are you going to tell the warden?"

"To let nature take its course." He sighed and turned back to contemplating the darkness outside the window, absent-mindedly stroking the dog’s head. "There's nothing else to do."

"And Parker?"

"I don't know." Jarod closed his eyes briefly and then looked over again. "I'm not sure whether it would better for her to see him like that or not."

"Why don't you ask her and let her make up her own mind?"

Jarod glanced at Sydney. "Because I'm not sure I want her to see me when I see him."

"How is he?" Nicole asked somewhat nervously, seeing the pain and anger in Jarod's eyes.

"He collapsed yesterday, according to a call I got, and they've started to give him medication for the pain."

"Did you direct them to do that?" the psychiatrist queried.

"You know that they couldn't give it without my direction."

"So you won't… let him suffer?"

Jarod glanced at his former mentor before staring back out into the darkness. "I have got an oath to uphold, no matter what I might feel personally."

"I'm glad to hear it, Jarod."

He looked up once more, a question apparent on his face, but comforted to see the obvious pride in the older man's eyes. "Sydney, what would you do in my situation?"

"Exactly what you've done."

"And… Miss Parker?"

"I'd let her make her own decision." Sydney got up and came to sit beside him. "She’s got a lot of her own nightmares to overcome."

* * *

"How is he?"

Jarod swallowed the immediate answer, replying cautiously. "He'll be fairly heavily sedated, so he might not even wake up while we're there, Parker. And he may not know who you are."

"It's cancer?"

"Yes."

"And is he… dying…?"

He took a deep breath and glanced at Broots, who sat in the back seat, before turning back to the road. "Yes, he is."

"How long?"

"A week or two. Probably not much more, if he even lives that long."

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her nodding slightly.

"Parker, his mind isn't too clear anymore. The cancer is affecting his brain and he can't stand up now, so he'll be in bed. But it also means that he might say some strange or… painful things."

"How often have you seen him?"

"Three times."

"And does he... know who you are?"

"He did the first two times. He was unconscious the last time I was there."

"But is he… suffering?"

"No, Parker." Jarod shook his head definitively. "I wouldn't let that happen."

* * *

Jarod picked up his bag and was about to close the door of the car when his phone rang. As Miss Parker and Broots got out, he answered it.

"Jarod Crawford." He paused. "Yes, warden, I understand… No, we just arrived, so we'll be there in a few minutes… Thank you… Goodbye."

He disconnected the called and looked over.

"He's slipping away, Parker. That was the call to ask me to come and do what I could for him." He stepped closer and put one hand on her shoulder. "Do you still want to see him?"

"Is he… awake?"

"Yes, he is. I don't know if he's lucid, but he's awake."

She slowly nodded and Jarod put the phone back in his pocket, turning towards the gray building, surrounded by barbed wire.

"Okay, let's go."

* * *

The room was quiet as Miss Parker and Broots entered it, Jarod having gone in several minutes earlier. He sat in a chair beside the bed, a syringe waiting at his right hand, and his eyes fixed on the patient. When they approached, he stood and gently shook the man.

"Mr. Parker, your daughter's here."

Broots looked up, noticing that Jarod's voice was calm and professional, and he wondered at that fact, feeling his own nervousness. He stepped around to stand beside the doctor as Miss Parker hesitantly approached the bed.

"Daddy?"

Her voice was a faint whisper but the eyes of the man in bed were already open and they focused on her. She found herself halting some distance away.

"Move closer, Parker,” he urged. “He won't be able to focus on you at that distance." As she looked at Jarod, he nodded encouragingly. "It's all right. He can't hurt you now."

"Angel…"

She heard the faint whisper and looked down again as she stepped closer to the bed, sinking into the chair that was beside it.

"I'm sorry, Angel…"

The dying man's breath came painfully and Broots glanced at Jarod, lowering his voice. "Is it just his brain?"

"No." The doctor shook his head. "It's all through him – lungs, heart, liver – everything. His body’s slowly shutting down."

"And how long?"

"A few hours, at best."

"And how are you…?"

The doctor’s voice was firm. "I'm just as scared of him as you are, Mr. Broots, but I have a job to do."

Jarod turned back to the table and extracted a sheet of paper, looking up and catching the eye of one of the guards, who came over.

"I need you to find the warden and one of the other doctors for me."

"Yes, sir."

The man left the room and immediately one of the other guards took his place.

"What's that?"

"Death certificate."

"So he's definitely…"

"Look at him, Broots." Jarod glanced over at the bed as he softly said the words, seeing that Miss Parker had slipped her hand into her father's. "Nothing could save him now."

Sitting down again, he began to slowly fill out the form.

* * *

"Go ahead, Dr. Crawford."

The other doctor, leaning against the wall, nodded as he spoke and Jarod picked up the syringe that lay on the table. He looked at the man who in the bed and uncapped it, about to inject it into the I.V. tube, when one of the machines gave a soft beep, and Jarod replaced the needle on the table. Stretching out one hand, he turned off the machine.

"Time of death 19:53."

As his colleague spoke, Jarod turned to the folder and noted down the figures, before glancing at Miss Parker and Broots. He handed the form to the other doctor, who signed it and then gave it to the warden. Once the third signature had been applied, Jarod replaced the page in the folder and handed the bundle to the men.

"Thank you for your help, Dr. Crawford."

"You're welcome, warden."

"Will she want his things?"

"It might be best, yes, so that we don't have to make another trip." Jarod looked at Miss Parker as he spoke but her eyes were fixed on her father. Putting out his hand, Jarod shut the eyelids of the dead man and held them for several seconds until he was sure that they would remain closed. As he did so, the other two men left the room.

"What's that?"

Broots nodded at the syringe on the table and Jarod picked it up, replacing the cap. "Painkiller. But he didn't need it."

"And why...?" He looked up at the place where the other two men had stood.

"It sounds a little strange, considering how close he was to dying, but I could have been sued for negligence or interference if they hadn't been here. I wanted to make sure it didn't happen."

Jarod sighed and emptied the needle into a sink in the corner of the room, throwing the syringe into the sharps bin and peeling off the latex gloves that he had been wearing.

"Parker?" Broots gently shook her, but she looked past him to the man standing in the corner of the room.

"Did he mean it, Jarod?"

"Mean what?" He moved to stand in front of her, blocking her view of the dead man.

"When he said he was sorry."

Slowly, Jarod nodded. "I think he did, yes. He knew who you were and I think he knew what he was saying."

"So he heard me... forgive him?"

"Yes, I think so."

Slowly her eyes filled and Jarod stepped away, allowing Broots put his arms around her.

* * *

Jarod placed the bag into the trunk and shut the lid, walking around to see that the other two were in the back seat. Sighing deeply, he got behind the wheel.

"Are you okay, Jarod?"

"I never like losing a patient, Broots."

Turning on the headlights, he drove through the parking lot, giving in his pass at the guardhouse as they left.

"I'll drop the two of you at your hotel, if you like. You can come and get your car from our house in the morning."

"That’d be great, thanks."

Nodding, Jarod remained silent for the rest of the trip, occasionally glancing into the back seat to look at the other occupants. Finally he drew up in front of the hotel where they were staying and got out when they did, opening the trunk.

"Here, Parker." He put the bag gently into her hand. "You'll want this."

She nodded silently and he watched as the two people went inside before slowly getting back into his car.

* * *

Sydney followed the younger man out onto the veranda, sitting quietly on the sofa and watching as Jarod moved over to stand at the railing, Charlie at his side, the dog sensing that the man was upset.

"He died, didn't he?"

"Yes."

"And did you get there…?"

"We were there for the last few hours. Yes, Sydney, she got time to say what she wanted to."

"And you?"

"I don't know." Jarod stared out into the darkness. "I don't know whether that was enough or not." He turned to look at the older man. "I don't want the Centre in my life anymore, Sydney."

"You don't have it there, Jarod. All you had is a patient who was connected to that place and who died. Is it the fact that you couldn't save him, or your feelings of guilt that perhaps, despite the fact that your diagnosis was upheld by your medical colleagues, you think you didn't do enough…?"

"Both." Jarod's lips twisted with emotion. "I haven't felt that helpless since I woke up to find myself lying on the bathroom floor." Jarod looked over as Nicole came out to sit on the other sofa and he sat next to her, lying back so that his head was on her lap. She started to stroke his hair, seeing a tear slide down his cheek.

Sydney waited for a brief moment before speaking. "Jarod, you overcame your feelings about the Centre. I could see it from the first moment. It wasn't that you'd suppressed or hidden them. The worst of the pain associated with that place was gone. You can't let one small circumstance start it over again. You have to find a way of controlling it so that you can get rid of this too."

Nicole wiped away the tears that were flowing fast down onto her skirt and gently brushed his lips with her fingers.

"Jarod, was he the last?"

Sydney was about to answer the question when she looked up at him and he remained silent so that the other man was forced to consider and state a response.

"As far as I know."

"So the threat - the real threat - is gone now?" >

"Physically."

She bent down and kissed him. "We'll get rid of the rest, too, Jarod. Just like we did before."