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Chapter or Story 
Chapter or Story
Aftermath Pt 6
Somewhere On The Road
10am
They had been driving for five hours now and Jarod still had not woken. Gem had set up an IV, restoring Jarod’s dehydrated body with much needed fluids. His breathing was steady and regular, as was his pulse.
“No Dad, no change.” He replied before his father had even asked the question.
As they had moved away from the house, Gem had done a cursory medical examination of Jarod. He had picked up his limp wrist in order to take his pulse and prepare it for the IV feed, but he had dropped it in horror, gasping out loud.
The Major had swerved the van as he turned around to see what was wrong and had nearly driven them all into a tree.
“What's wrong?” The Major was torn between stopping and finding out what was wrong and putting as much distance as possible between them and Blue Cove. In the end, caution won out. He put the van into gear and waited with as much patience as he could muster for Gem to pull himself together.
Gem picked up Jarod's hand tenderly and turned it over. He traced the thick ropey scar that encircled his entire wrist. Silent tears ran down his face, and he didn’t need to look at the other hand to know that there would be a matching scar there as well.
“Son, for god’s sake, what's wrong.” The Major was almost frantic with worry now.
His eyes looked up and met his father’s in the rear view mirror.
“Dad……they did………..bad things to him.” His voice was barley a whisper, choked with emotion.
“Shhh son, I know. Right now you need to focus. We need to make sure he is ok. I know how hard this is for you but you have to think about Jarod.” The Major imagined they would never truly know just how bad things had been for Jarod.
Gem found the vein and gently inserted the IV, Jarod groaned and stirred but did not wake. Gem held his hand and looked closer at the scars. He had simmed some of the things that he had imagined had been forced upon Jarod, but he was totally unprepared for the reality of the ugly pink scars. He gently probed Jarod’s body, checking for obvious injuries. He then lifted his shirt up so that he could listen to Jarod’s breathing. His hands froze on the hem of the grey featureless shirt as he saw Jarod's abdomen and chest. Gem’s heart skipped a beat and he stopped breathing. He reached out with trembling hands to touch the lattice-work of scars, hoping that he was only imagining them. His fingers touched the raised and twisted welts, tracing over them with horror. Jarod flinched slightly under his touch and Gem withdrew his hand with a guilty start. He sat back against the side of the van gasping for breath, trying to deny what his eyes were seeing. As he struggled to regulate his breathing, he angrily brushed the tears out of eyes and took a firm grip of his stethoscope. He thought about Raines’ voice guiding him into a sim, and he allowed himself to slip into the role. When he was sufficiently focused, he moved over to Jarod and proceeded to give him the best medical examination that he could under the circumstances. He warmed the stethoscope before placing it against Jarod's pitifully thin chest. His breathing was steady, although there was a slight rattle that Gem didn’t like the sound of. When he was finished, he carefully pulled down Jarod's shirt and reported his findings to his father.
Jarod seemed to be in reasonable condition under the circumstances. He would have to do a more thorough examination later, but for the moment, he was satisfied that Jarod was in no imminent physical danger. Gem sat back and shook himself out of the sim. He always found it hard to shake off the residual feelings after a sim, especially one as difficult as this had been. His eyes kept flicking back to Jarod’s wrists, and to his torso, hidden under the shirt. He didn’t seem to be able to take his eyes off of them. Finally, without knowing what else to do, he moved over to Jarod and picked up one of his hands and just held it. He didn’t know whether it was to give comfort or to take it. It didn’t matter. He cradled Jarod's hand and they drove through the day in silence.
By midday, Jarod had began to stir, and the Major decided that it was time to stop. He had been driving for seven hours and was almost at the point of exhaustion. They had covered just over 400 miles, and they were as safe now as they were ever going to be. When the Major found a motel, he pulled the van over and rented a room.
Although Jarod was beginning to stir, he still had not woken. The Major backed the van up to the door of the room and the two of them carried Jarod into the room, placing him gently on the only bed. The room contained a tiny bathroom and a kitchenette. Gem moved to close all the blinds and curtains and turned on the air-conditioning to cool down the room, which was stifling hot. The Major left to get some supplies. They would stay here until tomorrow and then make their way to the nearest airfield. He had not risked using an airfield in Delaware, knowing that the airfields would be the first place they would think to look.
Gem got some towels from the bathroom and proceeded to try and wash some of the grime off of Jarod. He gently washed his face and hands, then moved to his bare feet. He was reluctant to do much more than that. He replaced the IV bag, which was now empty, and checked to make sure that the butterfly was still secured to the back of Jarod's hand.
Jarod slowly was fighting against the pull back towards consciousness. He had been having the most lovely dream about the stars. He was floating in the pool, but it was warm and he was surrounded by grass and the smells of summer. He wanted to stay there, but he was being pulled away and he groaned as the pain started to intrude upon him. His entire body was aching and this throat felt like it was on fire. A hand was moving, pressing something over his face and his eyes reluctantly fluttered open. He hoped that it wasn’t Sam, please let it not be Sam. He just wasn’t up for another round with Sam right now.
“Jarod?” Gem had jumped, removing the cloth from his brow when he saw Jarod's eyelids flutter.
“Lyle?” Jarod creased his brow in confusion. He could swear that he thought he was lying on something soft. He tried to sit up, but his muscles groaned in protest. A face floating in front of him came into focus.
“Ohh Jarod, I didn’t think you were ever going to wake up.” The look of worry was replaced with a beautiful smile.
“Gem?” He asked in a raspy voice. Jarod tried again to sit up and then the memories came flooding back. His father had come for him, the torturous crawl for a million years through the air vents. His father leaving him…….
Gem helped him to sit up, wincing when Jarod groaned. He carefully fluffed the pillows and placed them behind Jarod. Then he handed Jarod a glass of water.
Jarod gratefully took it and swallowed. It was like magic going down his sore throat. But he drank it too quickly and started to splutter. Gem took the glass from him and waited until the coughing fit was over. He ran to the fridge and got more cold water.
Gem watched happily as Jarod finished the second glass and sat back and smiled at him.
“Thankyou. What happened? Where’s dad?” His brain was trying to piece together what must have happened. Then he bolted upright in alarm. “The Centre?”
Gem was wriggling in his chair in excitement. He didn’t know where to begin.
“Dad rescued you! I wanted to come too, but he wouldn’t let me.” A small frown creased his brow, as he fought back the urge to sulk. “But that doesn’t matter now. All that matters is that you are here and we are safe. Dad will be back soon, he’s gone out to get some stuff. Oh, Jarod, I am so happy you are alright. Are you hungry? Hold on just one second…..ohh boy, you won't believe what I have got for you.” He said excitedly, rambling on as he ran over to the corner of the room and came back with his backpack.
He looked at Jarod and gave him a sheepish grin before he emptied the contents onto the bed.
“My secret stash.” Gem’s eyes were glittering. “Dad’s not supposed to know about it, but I know that he does.”
A wide variety of candies and snack foods rained down on the Pretender. Jarod could not suppress his smile at the boy’s enthusiasm. His eyes alighted on a number of pez refills and when he thought that Gem was not looking, his hand snaked down and grabbed them. He casually brought his hand back up and hid them under his pillow.
When Jarod had made no move to take one of the treats, Gem paused and wondered what was wrong. Jarod had a dark look on his face and he was scared that he might have done something to upset him.
“Jarod, what's wrong? I thought……..dad said that you liked……did I do something wrong?” Gem asked baffled.
But Jarod wasn’t listening to Gem, he was thinking about his pez treasure. It was safely hidden from prying eyes under his pillows and nobody was going to touch it.
Gem had watched through lowered eyes as Jarod hid the candies and he realised what must be happening. He cursed himself for being so stupid. He picked up a chocolate bar and offered it to Jarod.
“Here Jarod, have this, I’m sure you will like this one.”
Jarod reached out hesitantly to take the chocolate bar. He still couldn’t quite believe that this was real, not just some part of an elaborate game devised by Mr Cox to trick him into something. But finally, the temptation was too much for him and he took the proffered bar, watching Gem’s reactions closely. When a shy smile came to his face, Jarod felt his confidence build and eagerly tore the wrapper off. The first bite was beyond description. He let the chocolate sit on his tongue and melt. The flavour and the texture was heaven. He closed his eyes, relishing every moment. When it was gone, he wasted no time shoving the rest of it in his mouth.
The door swung open and Major Charles entered, his arms carrying overflowing bags. Jarod froze in fear when he saw the door open, his mouth crammed full of chocolate, and only relaxed marginally when he saw was that it wasn’t a sweeper or Mr Cox.
“Dad?” he mumbled, trying to swallow the chocolate. He tried to rise up off the bed, but Gem gently pushed him back down.
Jarod reacted violently to the presence of the gentle grip on his shoulder. He shoved himself forcefully from the bed and landed heavily on the ground, ripping the IV line from his hand. The pez and the other food landing around him. He snatched the packets of pez up, backed himself up against the wall and started sobbing, clutching his pez to his chest. He wished Lyle was here.
Gem stared in mute agony at Jarod, and then at his father. The Major slowly put down his shopping and gestured for Gem to back away. He slowly approached Jarod and knelt down in front of him.
“Jarod, do you know who I am? Nobody here is going to hurt you. You are safe. I am not going to let them touch you again. I promise.” The Major reached out slowly, trying to take Jarod's hand.
But Jarod whimpered in fear and tried to scramble past his father. He knew who he was and he remembered only too clearly what had happened last time he let his father take his hand. He wasn’t about to let that happen again. But Jarod was in no condition to take on his father, his body still ached and his strength was no where near what it used to be. The Major tried to fold him into his arms, but Jarod screamed.
“Don’t touch me!” Jarod hated the feel of another’s hands on him.
The Major let him go and Jarod scrambled against the wall and sat, rocking him back and forth, staring at the ground. The Major backed up and sat down, slightly in front of Jarod.
“Jarod, you are in shock. Gem and I are here. Nobody is going to hurt you or make you do anything you don’t want to do. You don’t need to fear us. We won't hurt you. You are safe now. Is there anything you want, anything you need?”
After a moment of hesitation, Jarod lifted his head and worked up his courage. His body tensed nervously before he asked the question that he been wanting to ask for the longest time.
“C-Can I… I have a-a…. shower? A…… hot shower?” He closed his eyes and held his breath, and sighed in relief when no blow was struck.
“Of course you can Jarod” Major Charles could not stop the laugh that rumbled from his belly. “You can use all the hot water you want.”
Jarod slowly got up, every muscle in his body aching from the previous nights activities. He took a quick glance at Gem and then back to his father and then made his way slowly to the bathroom. Just before he got to the door he stopped and turned around.
“What month is it?”
“August” his father answered.
He closed his eyes as he did the quick calculation. Eight months. Almost another year of his life stolen from him. A muscle ticked in his jaw, the only reaction that revealed the violent emotions running through him. He stepped inside the bathroom and closed the door, away from prying eyes. He could detect no cameras, and he relaxed somewhat. He looked at his reflection in the mirror in shock. It was the first time he had seen himself in over eight months, and he barely recognized the ghost that stared back from the mirror.
“Dad, he’s so scared. He is scared of me. When I touched him, I didn’t mean……”
Jarod could hear them through the door.
“Son, his still in shock. He just needs some time to adjust. He has been brutalized and kept in isolation for eight months, it will take time, that’s all. We just have to be patient.”
Patience. Time. Jarod’s lip curled into a snarl. Patience and time would not change a damn thing. It would not give him his life back, would not take away the pain and the suffering. They could not hope to possibly ever understand. Jarod sighed and shrugged himself out of The Centre-issue clothes. When he caught the reflection of his bare chest, he turned away quickly, making a move towards the shower. His hand hovered over the hot water tap before he finally turned it on. He was surprised when the hot water came streaming out. He closed his eyes and sighed in pleasure. He adjusted the temperature to suit himself and stepped in. It was the most sinful pleasure that he could remember. No eyes or cameras were upon him, and the feel of the soap and the hot water was divine. The water helping to ease the ache in his muscles somewhat. He slid down the wall and sat in the middle of the tiny cubicle and stayed there until his stomach was gripped by painful cramps. He hauled himself over to the toilet and threw up the chocolate that he had just consumed. He lay there panting and cursing himself for his own stupidity.
When the door creaked open, a knot of fear formed in his chest. But he saw a hand deposit a pile of clothing and then withdraw. He got up, wrapped a fluffy towel around his waist and went back to the vanity and rinsed his mouth out, and then gratefully drank some more water. When he was steadier, he found some shaving gear and gave himself the best shave he had had in over eight months. He looked at his closely cropped hair with disgust and ran a towel roughly through it. They had starting shaving his head each week, and he closed his eyes as he was assaulted by the memories of being strapped into that chair, Sam and Willie threatening him that he had better stay still, the punishments when he didn’t, his finger tracing over the scars on his chest. Jarod swallowed the bitter hatred that swelled in his heart as he prepared himself to face these strangers that were his family. Patience and time, he was out of both.
He put on the clothes that were left for him, by his father he assumed. The khaki cotton cargo pants hung loosely around his hips and he felt absurdly exposed in the short-sleeved white cotton shirt. For so long now, he had worn the long-sleeved grey shirt and he felt very vulnerable. He took another look in the mirror, again surprised by the stranger that stared back. He jumped at the knock on the door.
“Jarod?……” the concerned voice of his father. Another gentle knock. “Is everything alright?”
Why wouldn’t they leave him alone? Couldn’t he have a moment of peace to himself? He closed his eyes and bit back the resentment that surged quickly to the surface. Forcing himself to sound calm he called back through the door.
“I’ll be out in a minute. Thankyou for the clothes.”
“It’s ok Jarod, you take as long as you need. I am cooking some lunch when you are ready.”
Even through the door, Jarod could hear the smile in his father’s voice. Food. The thought of real food made him almost giddy with excitement. Ice-cream. He was going to get himself some ice-cream. He had been dreaming about if for eight months.
He pushed the door open to find the expectant face of Gem swing up to meet his. The smile dying on his lips as his eyes flickered down to rest on Jarod's wrists. Jarod self-consciously crossed his arms, trying to hide the marks. Gem shifted uncomfortably on the bed and all of a sudden jumped up, exclaiming loudly,
“Dad’s cooking lunch. I bet you’re hungry. Sit down Jarod, here.” He patted the end of the bed that he had just vacated. Jarod did as he was told and sat gingerly on the edge of the bed, his muscles still very sore. He spotted a pair of sandals in the corner and gestured towards them with a raised eyebrow.
“I hope they fit.” Gem practically raced over to get them for Jarod. He knelt at his feet and started to put the sandals on.
Jarod flinched slightly at the boy’s touch, but held himself still and allowed him to fit the shoes on his feet. Jarod closed his eyes and allowed the sensation to wash over him. He had gone barefoot for so long now, and as Gem strapped the sandals on, he had a moment of pure panic as he felt the buckles close and imprison his feet. Jarod shook himself at his own stupidity, but the feeling of being trapped persisted. He roughly pushed Gem out of the way and without a word to either of them, headed out the front door. Leaving a startled Gem sitting on the floor and an equally startled Major, his spoon frozen, raised halfway to his mouth.
Gem remained sitting on the floor and threw the empty sandal box at the wall in frustration. He looked up at his father and screamed “He hates me. Everything I do is wrong.”
Major Charles sometimes forgot how emotionally young and fragile Gem really was. For all the boy’s intellect, he was still such a child and he had no experiences dealing with these kinds of emotions. He was torn between chasing after Jarod and comforting Gem. As he looked into Gem’s eyes, glittering with unshed tears, he made a move over to the bed and gathered his son up into his arms. He didn’t want Jarod to feel threatened, he would allow him his space.
“He doesn’t hate you son. You don’t have to try so hard. He is just going to have a hard time adjusting.” The Major was only just beginning to understand how profoundly affected Jarod had been. He had assumed that Jarod would just bounce back, he always had before. He decided as he cradled Gem, trying to offer him comfort, that it was time that he got the full story out of Sydney. He needed to know exactly what had happened, why was this time so different from the other times. This was something he should have done a long time ago.
Jarod stopped dead in his tracks as the sunlight and heat hit him. After the coolness inside the room, he was totally unprepared for the heat of an August sun. He blinked his eyes in the sudden brightness. Even though SL-27 had been brightly lit, there was nothing that compared to the glory that was sunlight. He slid down, resting his back against the door, he sank down to the ground, letting the heat wash through him. He could hear his father trying to comfort Gem and he wished that his father had followed him instead. As he listened to them talking, he knew that they had developed the kind of relationship that he had wanted his entire life. Envy tore through him as he realised that he would never have what Gem had, what was rightfully his. Gem had claimed that piece of his father’s heart, Gem had become his son in every sense of the word. Those years were gone now, the years they should have spent together, forming a real bond, and no matter what he did, he could never get them back.
Jarod had known that his father and Gem were growing closer, and he truly believed that he had not been jealous. But he had always had Sydney, and even though Jarod knew that Sydney did not feel the same for him, Jarod had loved Sydney like the father he always had wanted him to be. But now, he didn’t even have that. Bitter tears burned at the back of his eyes, he felt more alone at this moment than he had ever felt in his life. He hauled himself to his feet and started walking up the highway. He was alone, and he always would be. This simple fact defined his existence.
He had expected to feel exhilarated. He was free, but all he felt was empty. As he started to walk, he could feel his muscles beginning to loosen up. He allowed his mind to wander, just putting one foot in front of the other. He would own his own life from now on. He would never allow anybody to dictate how he lived ever again.
“You belong to The Centre”, the ghost of Raines voice chased him.
“They own you Jarod.” Lyle's voice followed.
Jarod started walking faster, trying to outrun the voices. He was free now, and this time would be different. This time they would not get him back. No more stupid games.
But his body was quickly overcome by heat and exhaustion. After only fifteen minutes, he sank down on the ground in the shade of a tree. His body was aching and his tender feet were blistering in their new shoes. He knew he was behaving irrationally, but he seemed completely helpless to be able to stop himself. He looked up apathetically when his father pulled up in the van, and a worried Gem hurried out the passenger door to help him back to the van. Jarod got in the front seat, Gem clambered in the back and they made the two-minute drive back to the hotel room in silence.
Jarod shivered as he entered the air-conditioned room and was assailed by the smell of something cooking. The Major gestured for Jarod and Gem to sit at the small table as he poured vegetable broth into three bowls. Jarod looked at the soup as if he wasn’t quite sure what to do with it. His stomach was still a little queasy, but his nostrils were telling him something completely different. Jarod looked at the face of his father, noticing the lines of fatigue and concern for the first time. His father looked so much older than the last time that he had seen him.
“Take it slowly Jarod, give your system time to adjust. We are going to rest up here for a little while, then later tonight, I want to hit the road again. I plan to put as much distance between us and the…..and Delaware as I possibly can.”
“The Centre. That’s it's name. You can say it you know.” Jarod snapped, immediately feeling bad. He turned his attention away from the surprised looks and focused on his soup.
“Thankyou.” Jarod said, feeling embarrassed, as he spooned some broth into his mouth, relishing the rich taste. “Thankyou…..for……everything.” he whispered, unable to meet the anxious looks.
The Major smiled and moved over to place a hand on Jarod's shoulder, but stopped himself as he saw Jarod's body clench.
“You’re welcome. Now eat, we need to build up your strength, but right now this old man needs some rest. I’m not as young as I used to be.” He chuckled softly, not taking his eyes from Jarod's. “We will talk later.” He walked back around to Gem, grabbing him roughly on the shoulder.
“In the meantime, I am sure this young fella can keep you entertained.”
The Major made his way to the bed and sunk down wearily on it. He could not remember a time in his life when he had ever been more exhausted. He fought his need to talk with Jarod, to be on the move, and finally he succumbed to sleep.
Gem talked animatedly about a staggering volume of subjects. Jarod wondered wryly if this is what he sounded like when he discovered a new thing. After refreshing Jarod's bowl, and giving him some fresh bread and some orange juice, he sat down. He was carefully watching Jarod for any signs that his stomach would reject the food. He had been foolish before. He remembered only too clearly what Centre food had been like, and he imagined that nothing much would have changed. He should have known better than to give Jarod anything as rich as the chocolates.
Jarod listened distractedly to the boy’s ramblings, half amused and half saddened. He could remember a time when he took pleasures in such little things, but he wondered now if he could ever get that sense of pleasure back. He looked closely at Gem. He knew that he was his duplicate, but Jarod could hardly believe it. He had never been allowed to see his reflection as a child, except that one time Sydney brought a mirror in. Watching the boy now was like watching a DSA, it was almost surreal. Looking at him now, Jarod could not believe that he had ever been that young. His childhood and adolescence seemed to him no different than his adulthood, except that he had been shorter. It was almost as if he had gone from a four-year old to a thirty-five year old in the wink of an eye.
He could see that his continuing silence was making Gem uncomfortable, and the boy appeared to be skirting around some subject that he obviously wanted to talk about, but just as obviously didn’t want to bring up. Jarod sighed. Questions, it was always questions. When are you going to do the sim? Why won't you do this? How do you do that? Where is the boy? It was never ending. They were at him all day. Everyday. The only one that didn’t ask, didn’t push was Lyle. When Jarod couldn’t stand it any longer, he waited for Gem to catch a breath and asked, none too gently.
“What is it that you want to know? Ask your question.” But Jarod already knew what the boy wanted.
Gem froze and stared at Jarod hopelessly. He couldn’t bring himself to ask, but he couldn’t stand it any longer either. His eyes slipped from Jarod's, down to his wrists, and then back to his own hands which he held, twisting in his lap. He could hardly breathe, and he realised suddenly that he really didn’t want to know.
“You’ve been simming it haven’t you?” Jarod asked, with something akin to cruelty in his voice. He looked down at his own hands , feeling the shame for talking to the boy with such harshness, but he couldn’t stop the rolling tide of resentment that is washing through him.
Gem's head snapped up, tears beginning to fall from his eyes. He was caught by Jarod's stare. Jarod wouldn’t let him go. Ever since he had learned of Jarod's capture, he had been thinking about what had been happening to Jarod. Gem remembered only too clearly the cruelty of Raines’ punishments when he had failed to please him, the agony of the isolation and loneliness. He had thought he had prepared himself, was ready to be there to support Jarod the same way Jarod had been there for him that first night. After seeing those marks on his wrists, and then the nightmare on his chest and abdomen, Gem's brain had gone into overdrive. He was helpless to stop himself, he had simmed Jarod's initial resistance, and the slow crumbling of that resistance under the continuing pressure, his mind shying away from the word torture, and finally his submission. He had believed that the knowing would have been easier to bear than the guessing, but the hard look in Jarod's eyes told him that this was probably not so.
“Yes.” It was barely a whisper. He struggled to hold back the tears and finally broke from Jarod's stare. “I'm sorry.”
“What are you sorry for? A boy as intelligent as you should always be seeking knowledge.” There was a hard edge to Jarod's voice as he placed his hands on the table in front of Gem, offering up his scarred wrists, daring him to look at them. “Would you like to touch them?”
“No”
“Would you like me to give you the details, help you to fill in the blanks?”
“No.”
“Do you know how long I held out before I finally gave in to them?”
“No”
“Did you ever sim how good it felt to give in to them?”
“No”
Gem's gasp betrayed his surprise. He had never imagined that Jarod wouldn’t be fighting them, even after he had given in. Some small part of him would always resist what he was being forced to do.
Something hard was glittering in the depths of Jarod's eyes. He was looking at Gem, but he was seeing Cox, that look of triumph in his eyes and the cold smile when he knew that Jarod had finally submitted to his will.
“But….I ….I thought……….” Gem spluttered, his face flushing deeply.
“You thought wrong!” He reached forward and grabbed Gem's wrists roughly. “Touch it! Feel it! You know you want to!” Jarod's voice had been rising, uncontrollable anger and self-loathing surging through him. He held on tighter to the boy’s wrists as the tried to squirm out of his grasp, a small whimper of pain escaped from Gem. “This is what they did to me, and this isn’t even the half of it….”
“Jarod! What the hell do you think you are doing?” The Major’s voice was low. He was horrified at the scene on display in front of him. “Let him go now.” His voice was quiet, but there was no mistaking the deadly undertone of command in it. The Major moved in behind Gem and took his sobbing son into a comforting embrace.
Jarod did as he was told, Jarod always did as he was told, he had been trained well. Suddenly he pushed himself up from the table and stormed off to the bathroom, slammed the door and sank to the floor, curling himself tightly into a ball as massive sobs racked through him. He didn’t understand what the hell he was doing. His emotions were swinging wildly out of control. He knew that Gem was only trying to help. He closed his eyes against his rampaging emotions and tried to slip into his calm place. But he was unable to find it, and when, ten minutes later, the door opened, he shrank himself into an even smaller ball in the corner waiting for the wrath of his father.
The Major took one look at Jarod cowering on the floor and all the anger he had felt vanished. He knelt down beside his terrified son and tried to take him into his arms. What the hell had they done to him? He closed his eyes and fought back his own feelings. At first Jarod resisted, flinching at his touch but when he realised that his father was not going away, Jarod slowly relaxed, surrendered and succumbed to the embrace. The Major rocked him backwards and forwards, rubbing soothing circles on his back until the trembling and sobbing stopped.
When the Major thought that Jarod was finally asleep, he gently tried to extricate himself, but Jarod turned his head up and with the accusation clear in his eyes whispered at his father, the question he had been wanting to ask his entire life.
“Why didn’t you come sooner? How could you leave me there for so long?”
Even though he had been waiting for that answer all of his life, he was afraid of it. And rather than face it he allowed exhaustion to overcome him and Jarod` was asleep before his father had a chance to respond.
Somewhere On The Road
10am
They had been driving for five hours now and Jarod still had not woken. Gem had set up an IV, restoring Jarod’s dehydrated body with much needed fluids. His breathing was steady and regular, as was his pulse.
“No Dad, no change.” He replied before his father had even asked the question.
As they had moved away from the house, Gem had done a cursory medical examination of Jarod. He had picked up his limp wrist in order to take his pulse and prepare it for the IV feed, but he had dropped it in horror, gasping out loud.
The Major had swerved the van as he turned around to see what was wrong and had nearly driven them all into a tree.
“What's wrong?” The Major was torn between stopping and finding out what was wrong and putting as much distance as possible between them and Blue Cove. In the end, caution won out. He put the van into gear and waited with as much patience as he could muster for Gem to pull himself together.
Gem picked up Jarod's hand tenderly and turned it over. He traced the thick ropey scar that encircled his entire wrist. Silent tears ran down his face, and he didn’t need to look at the other hand to know that there would be a matching scar there as well.
“Son, for god’s sake, what's wrong.” The Major was almost frantic with worry now.
His eyes looked up and met his father’s in the rear view mirror.
“Dad……they did………..bad things to him.” His voice was barley a whisper, choked with emotion.
“Shhh son, I know. Right now you need to focus. We need to make sure he is ok. I know how hard this is for you but you have to think about Jarod.” The Major imagined they would never truly know just how bad things had been for Jarod.
Gem found the vein and gently inserted the IV, Jarod groaned and stirred but did not wake. Gem held his hand and looked closer at the scars. He had simmed some of the things that he had imagined had been forced upon Jarod, but he was totally unprepared for the reality of the ugly pink scars. He gently probed Jarod’s body, checking for obvious injuries. He then lifted his shirt up so that he could listen to Jarod’s breathing. His hands froze on the hem of the grey featureless shirt as he saw Jarod's abdomen and chest. Gem’s heart skipped a beat and he stopped breathing. He reached out with trembling hands to touch the lattice-work of scars, hoping that he was only imagining them. His fingers touched the raised and twisted welts, tracing over them with horror. Jarod flinched slightly under his touch and Gem withdrew his hand with a guilty start. He sat back against the side of the van gasping for breath, trying to deny what his eyes were seeing. As he struggled to regulate his breathing, he angrily brushed the tears out of eyes and took a firm grip of his stethoscope. He thought about Raines’ voice guiding him into a sim, and he allowed himself to slip into the role. When he was sufficiently focused, he moved over to Jarod and proceeded to give him the best medical examination that he could under the circumstances. He warmed the stethoscope before placing it against Jarod's pitifully thin chest. His breathing was steady, although there was a slight rattle that Gem didn’t like the sound of. When he was finished, he carefully pulled down Jarod's shirt and reported his findings to his father.
Jarod seemed to be in reasonable condition under the circumstances. He would have to do a more thorough examination later, but for the moment, he was satisfied that Jarod was in no imminent physical danger. Gem sat back and shook himself out of the sim. He always found it hard to shake off the residual feelings after a sim, especially one as difficult as this had been. His eyes kept flicking back to Jarod’s wrists, and to his torso, hidden under the shirt. He didn’t seem to be able to take his eyes off of them. Finally, without knowing what else to do, he moved over to Jarod and picked up one of his hands and just held it. He didn’t know whether it was to give comfort or to take it. It didn’t matter. He cradled Jarod's hand and they drove through the day in silence.
By midday, Jarod had began to stir, and the Major decided that it was time to stop. He had been driving for seven hours and was almost at the point of exhaustion. They had covered just over 400 miles, and they were as safe now as they were ever going to be. When the Major found a motel, he pulled the van over and rented a room.
Although Jarod was beginning to stir, he still had not woken. The Major backed the van up to the door of the room and the two of them carried Jarod into the room, placing him gently on the only bed. The room contained a tiny bathroom and a kitchenette. Gem moved to close all the blinds and curtains and turned on the air-conditioning to cool down the room, which was stifling hot. The Major left to get some supplies. They would stay here until tomorrow and then make their way to the nearest airfield. He had not risked using an airfield in Delaware, knowing that the airfields would be the first place they would think to look.
Gem got some towels from the bathroom and proceeded to try and wash some of the grime off of Jarod. He gently washed his face and hands, then moved to his bare feet. He was reluctant to do much more than that. He replaced the IV bag, which was now empty, and checked to make sure that the butterfly was still secured to the back of Jarod's hand.
Jarod slowly was fighting against the pull back towards consciousness. He had been having the most lovely dream about the stars. He was floating in the pool, but it was warm and he was surrounded by grass and the smells of summer. He wanted to stay there, but he was being pulled away and he groaned as the pain started to intrude upon him. His entire body was aching and this throat felt like it was on fire. A hand was moving, pressing something over his face and his eyes reluctantly fluttered open. He hoped that it wasn’t Sam, please let it not be Sam. He just wasn’t up for another round with Sam right now.
“Jarod?” Gem had jumped, removing the cloth from his brow when he saw Jarod's eyelids flutter.
“Lyle?” Jarod creased his brow in confusion. He could swear that he thought he was lying on something soft. He tried to sit up, but his muscles groaned in protest. A face floating in front of him came into focus.
“Ohh Jarod, I didn’t think you were ever going to wake up.” The look of worry was replaced with a beautiful smile.
“Gem?” He asked in a raspy voice. Jarod tried again to sit up and then the memories came flooding back. His father had come for him, the torturous crawl for a million years through the air vents. His father leaving him…….
Gem helped him to sit up, wincing when Jarod groaned. He carefully fluffed the pillows and placed them behind Jarod. Then he handed Jarod a glass of water.
Jarod gratefully took it and swallowed. It was like magic going down his sore throat. But he drank it too quickly and started to splutter. Gem took the glass from him and waited until the coughing fit was over. He ran to the fridge and got more cold water.
Gem watched happily as Jarod finished the second glass and sat back and smiled at him.
“Thankyou. What happened? Where’s dad?” His brain was trying to piece together what must have happened. Then he bolted upright in alarm. “The Centre?”
Gem was wriggling in his chair in excitement. He didn’t know where to begin.
“Dad rescued you! I wanted to come too, but he wouldn’t let me.” A small frown creased his brow, as he fought back the urge to sulk. “But that doesn’t matter now. All that matters is that you are here and we are safe. Dad will be back soon, he’s gone out to get some stuff. Oh, Jarod, I am so happy you are alright. Are you hungry? Hold on just one second…..ohh boy, you won't believe what I have got for you.” He said excitedly, rambling on as he ran over to the corner of the room and came back with his backpack.
He looked at Jarod and gave him a sheepish grin before he emptied the contents onto the bed.
“My secret stash.” Gem’s eyes were glittering. “Dad’s not supposed to know about it, but I know that he does.”
A wide variety of candies and snack foods rained down on the Pretender. Jarod could not suppress his smile at the boy’s enthusiasm. His eyes alighted on a number of pez refills and when he thought that Gem was not looking, his hand snaked down and grabbed them. He casually brought his hand back up and hid them under his pillow.
When Jarod had made no move to take one of the treats, Gem paused and wondered what was wrong. Jarod had a dark look on his face and he was scared that he might have done something to upset him.
“Jarod, what's wrong? I thought……..dad said that you liked……did I do something wrong?” Gem asked baffled.
But Jarod wasn’t listening to Gem, he was thinking about his pez treasure. It was safely hidden from prying eyes under his pillows and nobody was going to touch it.
Gem had watched through lowered eyes as Jarod hid the candies and he realised what must be happening. He cursed himself for being so stupid. He picked up a chocolate bar and offered it to Jarod.
“Here Jarod, have this, I’m sure you will like this one.”
Jarod reached out hesitantly to take the chocolate bar. He still couldn’t quite believe that this was real, not just some part of an elaborate game devised by Mr Cox to trick him into something. But finally, the temptation was too much for him and he took the proffered bar, watching Gem’s reactions closely. When a shy smile came to his face, Jarod felt his confidence build and eagerly tore the wrapper off. The first bite was beyond description. He let the chocolate sit on his tongue and melt. The flavour and the texture was heaven. He closed his eyes, relishing every moment. When it was gone, he wasted no time shoving the rest of it in his mouth.
The door swung open and Major Charles entered, his arms carrying overflowing bags. Jarod froze in fear when he saw the door open, his mouth crammed full of chocolate, and only relaxed marginally when he saw was that it wasn’t a sweeper or Mr Cox.
“Dad?” he mumbled, trying to swallow the chocolate. He tried to rise up off the bed, but Gem gently pushed him back down.
Jarod reacted violently to the presence of the gentle grip on his shoulder. He shoved himself forcefully from the bed and landed heavily on the ground, ripping the IV line from his hand. The pez and the other food landing around him. He snatched the packets of pez up, backed himself up against the wall and started sobbing, clutching his pez to his chest. He wished Lyle was here.
Gem stared in mute agony at Jarod, and then at his father. The Major slowly put down his shopping and gestured for Gem to back away. He slowly approached Jarod and knelt down in front of him.
“Jarod, do you know who I am? Nobody here is going to hurt you. You are safe. I am not going to let them touch you again. I promise.” The Major reached out slowly, trying to take Jarod's hand.
But Jarod whimpered in fear and tried to scramble past his father. He knew who he was and he remembered only too clearly what had happened last time he let his father take his hand. He wasn’t about to let that happen again. But Jarod was in no condition to take on his father, his body still ached and his strength was no where near what it used to be. The Major tried to fold him into his arms, but Jarod screamed.
“Don’t touch me!” Jarod hated the feel of another’s hands on him.
The Major let him go and Jarod scrambled against the wall and sat, rocking him back and forth, staring at the ground. The Major backed up and sat down, slightly in front of Jarod.
“Jarod, you are in shock. Gem and I are here. Nobody is going to hurt you or make you do anything you don’t want to do. You don’t need to fear us. We won't hurt you. You are safe now. Is there anything you want, anything you need?”
After a moment of hesitation, Jarod lifted his head and worked up his courage. His body tensed nervously before he asked the question that he been wanting to ask for the longest time.
“C-Can I… I have a-a…. shower? A…… hot shower?” He closed his eyes and held his breath, and sighed in relief when no blow was struck.
“Of course you can Jarod” Major Charles could not stop the laugh that rumbled from his belly. “You can use all the hot water you want.”
Jarod slowly got up, every muscle in his body aching from the previous nights activities. He took a quick glance at Gem and then back to his father and then made his way slowly to the bathroom. Just before he got to the door he stopped and turned around.
“What month is it?”
“August” his father answered.
He closed his eyes as he did the quick calculation. Eight months. Almost another year of his life stolen from him. A muscle ticked in his jaw, the only reaction that revealed the violent emotions running through him. He stepped inside the bathroom and closed the door, away from prying eyes. He could detect no cameras, and he relaxed somewhat. He looked at his reflection in the mirror in shock. It was the first time he had seen himself in over eight months, and he barely recognized the ghost that stared back from the mirror.
“Dad, he’s so scared. He is scared of me. When I touched him, I didn’t mean……”
Jarod could hear them through the door.
“Son, his still in shock. He just needs some time to adjust. He has been brutalized and kept in isolation for eight months, it will take time, that’s all. We just have to be patient.”
Patience. Time. Jarod’s lip curled into a snarl. Patience and time would not change a damn thing. It would not give him his life back, would not take away the pain and the suffering. They could not hope to possibly ever understand. Jarod sighed and shrugged himself out of The Centre-issue clothes. When he caught the reflection of his bare chest, he turned away quickly, making a move towards the shower. His hand hovered over the hot water tap before he finally turned it on. He was surprised when the hot water came streaming out. He closed his eyes and sighed in pleasure. He adjusted the temperature to suit himself and stepped in. It was the most sinful pleasure that he could remember. No eyes or cameras were upon him, and the feel of the soap and the hot water was divine. The water helping to ease the ache in his muscles somewhat. He slid down the wall and sat in the middle of the tiny cubicle and stayed there until his stomach was gripped by painful cramps. He hauled himself over to the toilet and threw up the chocolate that he had just consumed. He lay there panting and cursing himself for his own stupidity.
When the door creaked open, a knot of fear formed in his chest. But he saw a hand deposit a pile of clothing and then withdraw. He got up, wrapped a fluffy towel around his waist and went back to the vanity and rinsed his mouth out, and then gratefully drank some more water. When he was steadier, he found some shaving gear and gave himself the best shave he had had in over eight months. He looked at his closely cropped hair with disgust and ran a towel roughly through it. They had starting shaving his head each week, and he closed his eyes as he was assaulted by the memories of being strapped into that chair, Sam and Willie threatening him that he had better stay still, the punishments when he didn’t, his finger tracing over the scars on his chest. Jarod swallowed the bitter hatred that swelled in his heart as he prepared himself to face these strangers that were his family. Patience and time, he was out of both.
He put on the clothes that were left for him, by his father he assumed. The khaki cotton cargo pants hung loosely around his hips and he felt absurdly exposed in the short-sleeved white cotton shirt. For so long now, he had worn the long-sleeved grey shirt and he felt very vulnerable. He took another look in the mirror, again surprised by the stranger that stared back. He jumped at the knock on the door.
“Jarod?……” the concerned voice of his father. Another gentle knock. “Is everything alright?”
Why wouldn’t they leave him alone? Couldn’t he have a moment of peace to himself? He closed his eyes and bit back the resentment that surged quickly to the surface. Forcing himself to sound calm he called back through the door.
“I’ll be out in a minute. Thankyou for the clothes.”
“It’s ok Jarod, you take as long as you need. I am cooking some lunch when you are ready.”
Even through the door, Jarod could hear the smile in his father’s voice. Food. The thought of real food made him almost giddy with excitement. Ice-cream. He was going to get himself some ice-cream. He had been dreaming about if for eight months.
He pushed the door open to find the expectant face of Gem swing up to meet his. The smile dying on his lips as his eyes flickered down to rest on Jarod's wrists. Jarod self-consciously crossed his arms, trying to hide the marks. Gem shifted uncomfortably on the bed and all of a sudden jumped up, exclaiming loudly,
“Dad’s cooking lunch. I bet you’re hungry. Sit down Jarod, here.” He patted the end of the bed that he had just vacated. Jarod did as he was told and sat gingerly on the edge of the bed, his muscles still very sore. He spotted a pair of sandals in the corner and gestured towards them with a raised eyebrow.
“I hope they fit.” Gem practically raced over to get them for Jarod. He knelt at his feet and started to put the sandals on.
Jarod flinched slightly at the boy’s touch, but held himself still and allowed him to fit the shoes on his feet. Jarod closed his eyes and allowed the sensation to wash over him. He had gone barefoot for so long now, and as Gem strapped the sandals on, he had a moment of pure panic as he felt the buckles close and imprison his feet. Jarod shook himself at his own stupidity, but the feeling of being trapped persisted. He roughly pushed Gem out of the way and without a word to either of them, headed out the front door. Leaving a startled Gem sitting on the floor and an equally startled Major, his spoon frozen, raised halfway to his mouth.
Gem remained sitting on the floor and threw the empty sandal box at the wall in frustration. He looked up at his father and screamed “He hates me. Everything I do is wrong.”
Major Charles sometimes forgot how emotionally young and fragile Gem really was. For all the boy’s intellect, he was still such a child and he had no experiences dealing with these kinds of emotions. He was torn between chasing after Jarod and comforting Gem. As he looked into Gem’s eyes, glittering with unshed tears, he made a move over to the bed and gathered his son up into his arms. He didn’t want Jarod to feel threatened, he would allow him his space.
“He doesn’t hate you son. You don’t have to try so hard. He is just going to have a hard time adjusting.” The Major was only just beginning to understand how profoundly affected Jarod had been. He had assumed that Jarod would just bounce back, he always had before. He decided as he cradled Gem, trying to offer him comfort, that it was time that he got the full story out of Sydney. He needed to know exactly what had happened, why was this time so different from the other times. This was something he should have done a long time ago.
Jarod stopped dead in his tracks as the sunlight and heat hit him. After the coolness inside the room, he was totally unprepared for the heat of an August sun. He blinked his eyes in the sudden brightness. Even though SL-27 had been brightly lit, there was nothing that compared to the glory that was sunlight. He slid down, resting his back against the door, he sank down to the ground, letting the heat wash through him. He could hear his father trying to comfort Gem and he wished that his father had followed him instead. As he listened to them talking, he knew that they had developed the kind of relationship that he had wanted his entire life. Envy tore through him as he realised that he would never have what Gem had, what was rightfully his. Gem had claimed that piece of his father’s heart, Gem had become his son in every sense of the word. Those years were gone now, the years they should have spent together, forming a real bond, and no matter what he did, he could never get them back.
Jarod had known that his father and Gem were growing closer, and he truly believed that he had not been jealous. But he had always had Sydney, and even though Jarod knew that Sydney did not feel the same for him, Jarod had loved Sydney like the father he always had wanted him to be. But now, he didn’t even have that. Bitter tears burned at the back of his eyes, he felt more alone at this moment than he had ever felt in his life. He hauled himself to his feet and started walking up the highway. He was alone, and he always would be. This simple fact defined his existence.
He had expected to feel exhilarated. He was free, but all he felt was empty. As he started to walk, he could feel his muscles beginning to loosen up. He allowed his mind to wander, just putting one foot in front of the other. He would own his own life from now on. He would never allow anybody to dictate how he lived ever again.
“You belong to The Centre”, the ghost of Raines voice chased him.
“They own you Jarod.” Lyle's voice followed.
Jarod started walking faster, trying to outrun the voices. He was free now, and this time would be different. This time they would not get him back. No more stupid games.
But his body was quickly overcome by heat and exhaustion. After only fifteen minutes, he sank down on the ground in the shade of a tree. His body was aching and his tender feet were blistering in their new shoes. He knew he was behaving irrationally, but he seemed completely helpless to be able to stop himself. He looked up apathetically when his father pulled up in the van, and a worried Gem hurried out the passenger door to help him back to the van. Jarod got in the front seat, Gem clambered in the back and they made the two-minute drive back to the hotel room in silence.
Jarod shivered as he entered the air-conditioned room and was assailed by the smell of something cooking. The Major gestured for Jarod and Gem to sit at the small table as he poured vegetable broth into three bowls. Jarod looked at the soup as if he wasn’t quite sure what to do with it. His stomach was still a little queasy, but his nostrils were telling him something completely different. Jarod looked at the face of his father, noticing the lines of fatigue and concern for the first time. His father looked so much older than the last time that he had seen him.
“Take it slowly Jarod, give your system time to adjust. We are going to rest up here for a little while, then later tonight, I want to hit the road again. I plan to put as much distance between us and the…..and Delaware as I possibly can.”
“The Centre. That’s it's name. You can say it you know.” Jarod snapped, immediately feeling bad. He turned his attention away from the surprised looks and focused on his soup.
“Thankyou.” Jarod said, feeling embarrassed, as he spooned some broth into his mouth, relishing the rich taste. “Thankyou…..for……everything.” he whispered, unable to meet the anxious looks.
The Major smiled and moved over to place a hand on Jarod's shoulder, but stopped himself as he saw Jarod's body clench.
“You’re welcome. Now eat, we need to build up your strength, but right now this old man needs some rest. I’m not as young as I used to be.” He chuckled softly, not taking his eyes from Jarod's. “We will talk later.” He walked back around to Gem, grabbing him roughly on the shoulder.
“In the meantime, I am sure this young fella can keep you entertained.”
The Major made his way to the bed and sunk down wearily on it. He could not remember a time in his life when he had ever been more exhausted. He fought his need to talk with Jarod, to be on the move, and finally he succumbed to sleep.
Gem talked animatedly about a staggering volume of subjects. Jarod wondered wryly if this is what he sounded like when he discovered a new thing. After refreshing Jarod's bowl, and giving him some fresh bread and some orange juice, he sat down. He was carefully watching Jarod for any signs that his stomach would reject the food. He had been foolish before. He remembered only too clearly what Centre food had been like, and he imagined that nothing much would have changed. He should have known better than to give Jarod anything as rich as the chocolates.
Jarod listened distractedly to the boy’s ramblings, half amused and half saddened. He could remember a time when he took pleasures in such little things, but he wondered now if he could ever get that sense of pleasure back. He looked closely at Gem. He knew that he was his duplicate, but Jarod could hardly believe it. He had never been allowed to see his reflection as a child, except that one time Sydney brought a mirror in. Watching the boy now was like watching a DSA, it was almost surreal. Looking at him now, Jarod could not believe that he had ever been that young. His childhood and adolescence seemed to him no different than his adulthood, except that he had been shorter. It was almost as if he had gone from a four-year old to a thirty-five year old in the wink of an eye.
He could see that his continuing silence was making Gem uncomfortable, and the boy appeared to be skirting around some subject that he obviously wanted to talk about, but just as obviously didn’t want to bring up. Jarod sighed. Questions, it was always questions. When are you going to do the sim? Why won't you do this? How do you do that? Where is the boy? It was never ending. They were at him all day. Everyday. The only one that didn’t ask, didn’t push was Lyle. When Jarod couldn’t stand it any longer, he waited for Gem to catch a breath and asked, none too gently.
“What is it that you want to know? Ask your question.” But Jarod already knew what the boy wanted.
Gem froze and stared at Jarod hopelessly. He couldn’t bring himself to ask, but he couldn’t stand it any longer either. His eyes slipped from Jarod's, down to his wrists, and then back to his own hands which he held, twisting in his lap. He could hardly breathe, and he realised suddenly that he really didn’t want to know.
“You’ve been simming it haven’t you?” Jarod asked, with something akin to cruelty in his voice. He looked down at his own hands , feeling the shame for talking to the boy with such harshness, but he couldn’t stop the rolling tide of resentment that is washing through him.
Gem's head snapped up, tears beginning to fall from his eyes. He was caught by Jarod's stare. Jarod wouldn’t let him go. Ever since he had learned of Jarod's capture, he had been thinking about what had been happening to Jarod. Gem remembered only too clearly the cruelty of Raines’ punishments when he had failed to please him, the agony of the isolation and loneliness. He had thought he had prepared himself, was ready to be there to support Jarod the same way Jarod had been there for him that first night. After seeing those marks on his wrists, and then the nightmare on his chest and abdomen, Gem's brain had gone into overdrive. He was helpless to stop himself, he had simmed Jarod's initial resistance, and the slow crumbling of that resistance under the continuing pressure, his mind shying away from the word torture, and finally his submission. He had believed that the knowing would have been easier to bear than the guessing, but the hard look in Jarod's eyes told him that this was probably not so.
“Yes.” It was barely a whisper. He struggled to hold back the tears and finally broke from Jarod's stare. “I'm sorry.”
“What are you sorry for? A boy as intelligent as you should always be seeking knowledge.” There was a hard edge to Jarod's voice as he placed his hands on the table in front of Gem, offering up his scarred wrists, daring him to look at them. “Would you like to touch them?”
“No”
“Would you like me to give you the details, help you to fill in the blanks?”
“No.”
“Do you know how long I held out before I finally gave in to them?”
“No”
“Did you ever sim how good it felt to give in to them?”
“No”
Gem's gasp betrayed his surprise. He had never imagined that Jarod wouldn’t be fighting them, even after he had given in. Some small part of him would always resist what he was being forced to do.
Something hard was glittering in the depths of Jarod's eyes. He was looking at Gem, but he was seeing Cox, that look of triumph in his eyes and the cold smile when he knew that Jarod had finally submitted to his will.
“But….I ….I thought……….” Gem spluttered, his face flushing deeply.
“You thought wrong!” He reached forward and grabbed Gem's wrists roughly. “Touch it! Feel it! You know you want to!” Jarod's voice had been rising, uncontrollable anger and self-loathing surging through him. He held on tighter to the boy’s wrists as the tried to squirm out of his grasp, a small whimper of pain escaped from Gem. “This is what they did to me, and this isn’t even the half of it….”
“Jarod! What the hell do you think you are doing?” The Major’s voice was low. He was horrified at the scene on display in front of him. “Let him go now.” His voice was quiet, but there was no mistaking the deadly undertone of command in it. The Major moved in behind Gem and took his sobbing son into a comforting embrace.
Jarod did as he was told, Jarod always did as he was told, he had been trained well. Suddenly he pushed himself up from the table and stormed off to the bathroom, slammed the door and sank to the floor, curling himself tightly into a ball as massive sobs racked through him. He didn’t understand what the hell he was doing. His emotions were swinging wildly out of control. He knew that Gem was only trying to help. He closed his eyes against his rampaging emotions and tried to slip into his calm place. But he was unable to find it, and when, ten minutes later, the door opened, he shrank himself into an even smaller ball in the corner waiting for the wrath of his father.
The Major took one look at Jarod cowering on the floor and all the anger he had felt vanished. He knelt down beside his terrified son and tried to take him into his arms. What the hell had they done to him? He closed his eyes and fought back his own feelings. At first Jarod resisted, flinching at his touch but when he realised that his father was not going away, Jarod slowly relaxed, surrendered and succumbed to the embrace. The Major rocked him backwards and forwards, rubbing soothing circles on his back until the trembling and sobbing stopped.
When the Major thought that Jarod was finally asleep, he gently tried to extricate himself, but Jarod turned his head up and with the accusation clear in his eyes whispered at his father, the question he had been wanting to ask his entire life.
“Why didn’t you come sooner? How could you leave me there for so long?”
Even though he had been waiting for that answer all of his life, he was afraid of it. And rather than face it he allowed exhaustion to overcome him and Jarod` was asleep before his father had a chance to respond.
