Hell To Pay by Trish
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Disclaimer is part 1 feedback is needed for a ninth part please. . . .Niceole thanks for the inspiration ... my muse decided to visit me today. . .
Hell To Pay
part VIII
by Trisha
He woke and found the lights dimmed, dull. Loneliness surrounded him, inside. The window closed and curtained. The chair in the corner was occupied by a shadow. A sense of relief invaded his mind. She was back, she hadn't left. So afraid that she would, for he remembered that they had fought earlier. He had started it, causing her to leave, angry and upset. He knew that she could never do what he accused her of, but he was in so much pain. Confusion reigned in his brain.
As he slept, he remembered that it was her presence, her voice, her being here that kept him from crossing over. The light which had invaded his mind was serene and beckoned him to come. He wanted to go, but something held him back. Something that was not finished. It wasn't a something, he realized, but a someone. Her. She didn't want him to leave and he needed to know why. He looked over at her and realized that his feelings for her, ran deep, deeper than just an old childhood friendship.
"Parker," he croaked," I'm sorry."
She leaned forward in the chair and looked him in those big brown eyes of his. She still saw confusion and yet there was something else mixed in with them. A twinkle of the old Jarod.
"I know. After all the times that I've threatened you, I really am not surprised that you would wonder if I did. Do you remember anything, besides being at the Centre?"
"Flashes. Bits and pieces. I can't put it together. Scrambled up. Old memories, though. You. Me. Yet, I remember hearing ... you telling me to fight. Why?"
She blushed, slightly, thanking God that the room was dark and that he could not see it. So, there was something to that, that comatose patients could hear things said to them. Thankful that he couldn't read her mind and the things that had invaded it while he was unconscious, she nodded her head.
"Why, what?" she said trying to evade answering, still unsure of the answer herself.
"If I had died, then you'd be free," he whispered.
"No, never free. They'd have me find the boy. I won't do that."
"Why?"
"God, you sound like a three year old. Is that all you can ask me, is why?"
"No, how about I'm thirsty?" he smiled. He watched her reach for the cup with the ice chips and plastic spoon from the nightstand. Scooping out one, she held it to his lips, watching it slip off and into his mouth. He closed his eyes and savored the coldness.
"More?"
He nodded and she spoon fed him another.
"Parker?" he looked at her.
"What?"
He laughed, then grimaced.
"It's true," he said, as she turned her head at his response," It only hurts when I laugh."
"Get some sleep, Jarod," she said as she pulled the sheets up around him and he closed his eyes.
"Stay?" he murmured, as his hand sought hers.
She leaned back in the chair and drifted in and out, hopefully he would regain his memory of the events that lead him to this particular place in his life. Yet what if he didn't, they had not discussed what he did remember. Next time he woke up she'd ask him if he knew what day it was. That in itself would give her a clue as to where they stood.
An unexpected noise startled her, fully alert, she glanced around the room, unsure of what she'd see.
Looking at the prone figure on the bed, she noticed that he was tossed, turning and murmuring, as well as grimacing in pain. Reaching out to soothe him, her hand recoiled. Reaching again, she pressed her hand firmly to his forehead. He was burning up. Pressing the call button on the side of the bed, she waited for one of the nurses to respond.
"You buzzed?" a nurse asked, entering the room, advancing toward Jarod.
"He's burning up and thrashing about. I'm worried," Parker waited as the nurse checked him.
"He's got a fever, that's for sure. 104f. I need to get a hold of the doctor, but he left instructions to start him on antibiotics, if the need arose. He may have an infection." She looked at Parker and saw the worry in those tired blue eyes, " I'll be right back."
Parker went into the bathroom and returned a few minutes later with a cool wet wash cloth, sitting on the edge of the bed, she wiped down his face before placing it on his forehead.
"Shhhhhhhh," she murmured, as she caressed his cheek.
"Love you," he mumbled before he turned his head and drifted off to sleep again.
Stunned, she sat and stared, dumfounded.
Feedback please ! Ractrish@aol.com
part VIII
by Trisha
He woke and found the lights dimmed, dull. Loneliness surrounded him, inside. The window closed and curtained. The chair in the corner was occupied by a shadow. A sense of relief invaded his mind. She was back, she hadn't left. So afraid that she would, for he remembered that they had fought earlier. He had started it, causing her to leave, angry and upset. He knew that she could never do what he accused her of, but he was in so much pain. Confusion reigned in his brain.
As he slept, he remembered that it was her presence, her voice, her being here that kept him from crossing over. The light which had invaded his mind was serene and beckoned him to come. He wanted to go, but something held him back. Something that was not finished. It wasn't a something, he realized, but a someone. Her. She didn't want him to leave and he needed to know why. He looked over at her and realized that his feelings for her, ran deep, deeper than just an old childhood friendship.
"Parker," he croaked," I'm sorry."
She leaned forward in the chair and looked him in those big brown eyes of his. She still saw confusion and yet there was something else mixed in with them. A twinkle of the old Jarod.
"I know. After all the times that I've threatened you, I really am not surprised that you would wonder if I did. Do you remember anything, besides being at the Centre?"
"Flashes. Bits and pieces. I can't put it together. Scrambled up. Old memories, though. You. Me. Yet, I remember hearing ... you telling me to fight. Why?"
She blushed, slightly, thanking God that the room was dark and that he could not see it. So, there was something to that, that comatose patients could hear things said to them. Thankful that he couldn't read her mind and the things that had invaded it while he was unconscious, she nodded her head.
"Why, what?" she said trying to evade answering, still unsure of the answer herself.
"If I had died, then you'd be free," he whispered.
"No, never free. They'd have me find the boy. I won't do that."
"Why?"
"God, you sound like a three year old. Is that all you can ask me, is why?"
"No, how about I'm thirsty?" he smiled. He watched her reach for the cup with the ice chips and plastic spoon from the nightstand. Scooping out one, she held it to his lips, watching it slip off and into his mouth. He closed his eyes and savored the coldness.
"More?"
He nodded and she spoon fed him another.
"Parker?" he looked at her.
"What?"
He laughed, then grimaced.
"It's true," he said, as she turned her head at his response," It only hurts when I laugh."
"Get some sleep, Jarod," she said as she pulled the sheets up around him and he closed his eyes.
"Stay?" he murmured, as his hand sought hers.
She leaned back in the chair and drifted in and out, hopefully he would regain his memory of the events that lead him to this particular place in his life. Yet what if he didn't, they had not discussed what he did remember. Next time he woke up she'd ask him if he knew what day it was. That in itself would give her a clue as to where they stood.
An unexpected noise startled her, fully alert, she glanced around the room, unsure of what she'd see.
Looking at the prone figure on the bed, she noticed that he was tossed, turning and murmuring, as well as grimacing in pain. Reaching out to soothe him, her hand recoiled. Reaching again, she pressed her hand firmly to his forehead. He was burning up. Pressing the call button on the side of the bed, she waited for one of the nurses to respond.
"You buzzed?" a nurse asked, entering the room, advancing toward Jarod.
"He's burning up and thrashing about. I'm worried," Parker waited as the nurse checked him.
"He's got a fever, that's for sure. 104f. I need to get a hold of the doctor, but he left instructions to start him on antibiotics, if the need arose. He may have an infection." She looked at Parker and saw the worry in those tired blue eyes, " I'll be right back."
Parker went into the bathroom and returned a few minutes later with a cool wet wash cloth, sitting on the edge of the bed, she wiped down his face before placing it on his forehead.
"Shhhhhhhh," she murmured, as she caressed his cheek.
"Love you," he mumbled before he turned his head and drifted off to sleep again.
Stunned, she sat and stared, dumfounded.
Feedback please ! Ractrish@aol.com
