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Chapter or Story 
Chapter or Story
Part 20
Ashe, New York
"So what's going on in Blue Cove?"
"They finally managed to get the door open."
"How?" Miss Parker looked at the technician with a raised eyebrow.
"External communication from the Centre is impossible but the blockade can't cut communication within the building. They called for help."
Sydney glanced at his watch. "What took so long?"
"Did you see that door, Syd? It was like a bank vault. Because it opened inwardly, they couldn't even take it off its hinges, so they eventually had to get somebody to cut a hole in it. That lasted for hours."
"Well, I'm sure Helen's loving brother must be in a wonderful mood after that."
"That combined with the fact that she isn't there for him to take his bad mood out on her is making him a little red-faced with rage, yes."
"Well, she did say she was good at that."
The five people in the living room looked up as Steve came down the staircase, but he shook his head. "The second treatment didn't work either. We've administered the third, so we should know by early morning if it's going to work or not."
"This will be a long afternoon," Sam's mother sighed, gazing through the window and watching as snow began to fall outside.
"It's been a long day," Miss Parker muttered before looking at Jarod's father. "Are you going to stay, or will you go back to your wife and Emily?"
"I'm going back to them, but I'll leave Jon and Ethan in case they can help." The man got up and looked around. "In fact I might go now. It's a few hours away and I don’t want to find myself driving through a blizzard."
"Give us a number and we'll call you in the morning to let you know how she is," the psychiatrist suggested.
"Thanks, Sydney." The man took a piece of paper that Broots offered, wrote out a phone number and handed it over. "No matter what happens, even if there's no change, we want to know."
"I understand." Sydney slipped the scrap into his pocket and watched the man go down into the cellar to tell Jon and Ethan what was planned. The psychiatrist looked back at the technician. "So what's happening now?"
"You mean apart from our beloved boss threatening to kill us as soon as they find us? Not a lot."
"So they figured out the connection?"
Miss Parker's voice was almost a sneer. "The fact that we're not there and Sam's disappearance should give them a small clue, don't you think? Helen's brother isn't that stupid."
"How will they find us, though?” Sydney protested. “They can't send sweepers out. Nobody ought to be able to leave the building."
"Yes, but he doesn't know that yet. He's just ordered the blockade lifted, and it'll take a little while before they realize that mine's overridden theirs." Broots increased the volume on the computer so that the others could hear the conversation in progress.
The Centre
Blue Cove, Delaware
"So who was it? Jarod? His father? Who?"
"We don't know, sir. We won't know until the blockade's lifted so we can get into the security system footage."
"You mean you have no control over the security system?"
"We can see what's being viewed now, sir, but we can't play recorded footage until the blockade is lifted and that will be about ten minutes from now."
"Is everyone accounted for?"
"All except four people, sir."
"Four?"
"Angelo, Sam, Willie and the woman."
"Fool!" The man slammed his hand down on the desk. "I know she's missing. Are you a complete imbecile?"
"If you say so, sir."
"I do say so." The man glared at the figure in front of him, who was visibly trembling as a bead of sweat ran down his face. "So where's Angelo?"
"As I said, sir, we don't know."
"And, of course, you 'don't know' where Willie is either."
"Peter reported that Willie said last night he no longer trusted Sam and was going to keep an eye on him while he was guarding the air vent."
"And that, doubtless, is where he still is now." The man glared at the table before turning to one of his fellow Triumvirate members. "Right now, what information do we have about Sam?"
"Very little about his history but quite a lot of personal information - family and so on."
"And has it been verified?"
"Yes."
"Good." The man's dark expression faded, a smirk starting to curl his top lip as an idea obviously occurred to him. "I'm sure, as with our prize Pretender, the way to Sam’s obedience is through his family. I want you to bring all members of his family to the Centre. If he doesn't show up within twenty-four hours, we'll start to 'persuade' him that it would be a good idea to do so."
"W… we can't… until… the blockade…" The security technician's words were near to being inaudible from terror.
"Then we'll wait until the blockade's been lifted," the man snarled. "Get out of my sight."
Ashe, New York
The four people in the room watched as the man behind the desk withdrew a gun from his holster and, the moment the technician turned, shot him in the back. The man fell to the floor and lay still as Broots reached out a hand and shakily pushed down the lid of the machine, but not before the occupants could hear the man's words.
"Too slow."
Sydney glanced over to see the ashen face of the woman beside him and put out a hand to touch her arm. "It's all right, they won't get you. Even if you were at home, they can't send people to find you."
Broots opened the laptop and, eyes averted, shut down all access to the security footage before typing busily for a moment and looking up. "If they do manage to find a way around my blockade, I've just blocked Sam's personnel file. They have no chance of opening that." His eyes brightened as he thought of something. "I'll do that for the rest of us as well."
As he set to work, Sam's mother raised her eyes, the shock still clear in them as she turned to the others. "What kind of people does my son work for?"
"The worst kind," Miss Parker replied softly. "As do the rest of us, because, if you start, there's no way out."
"It seems Helen’s in the best position of any of us," Sydney remarked. "She’s not only never begun working there, but has been doing everything she could, for all the time she's known about it, to tear the place apart."
"By rights, it really should be our turn," the woman stated.
"The problem is finding the right place to attack them."
"The mainframe was pretty effective," Miss Parker commented drily.
"It would be nasty," the technician stated airily, "if they couldn't get access to the new one either."
"Can you do that?” Sydney demanded.
"I just did. The blockade will appear to have deleted all of the information they've been putting in during the last few weeks since Helen's theft cut them off from the old one."
"Can they access it?"
"Yes. The blockade didn't cut them off from it, because it doesn't work like that, but now there's nothing for them to find if they go hunting - including every detail that was in our personnel files, and even past staff like Michelle or Jacob."
A faint smile flickered across Sydney's face and Miss Parker looked sharply over at him.
"Is she safe?"
"Well, she is now, but yes, I called her soon after we got her and arranged for her to join Nicholas where he's currently working, and travel elsewhere. I know it's not possible to ever be completely safe from the Centre, but even I have no idea where they're going, so they should be safer than if they'd stayed in Albany."
"They could come here."
"No." The psychiatrist shook his head. "There's already too many people here so we don't want to draw attention to ourselves by bringing more. Remember that Helen usually lives here alone. I've been trying to find a way to send more of us away, but I can't think of anything, not yet anyway."
"None of the rest of us will want to leave," Miss Parker protested.
"That's been my problem. Still, let's see what happens and then we can consider it later."
"And in the meantime?" Broots put in.
"In the meantime, let's see how many other Achilles' heels the Centre has for us to attack."
Sam silently unlocked the back door of the house and let himself inside, shutting it after him and relocking it, before hanging up his coat. Glancing up, his eyes met those of the man who had just opened the door from the living room.
"Are you okay?"
"I think so. Did it...?"
"No, the second didn't work either, and we won't know about the third until some time tonight."
Nodding slowly, the sweeper sank into a chair at the table. "And the Centre?"
"They're trying to recover, but Broots blocked their access to the new mainframe as well."
"Sounds good."
The man's voice was emotionless and Sydney shut the door, moving over to put on the kettle.
"I know you won't want to eat, but you're at least going to have something hot to drink."
"Doctor, please..."
"Sam, the last thing Helen needs is for you to be too weak to take care of her. I'm not forcing you to eat, but I'm not giving you an option about the drink. Clear?"
"Yes, sir."
His face expressionless, Sam wrapped both hands around the mug that was given to him by the psychiatrist, sipping the contents. There was a faint look of humor in his eyes as he glanced up.
"I don't normally take sugar."
"You need it," the doctor affirmed.
"Enough to rot every tooth in my head?"
"I'm sure Jarod's pretended to be a dentist or orthodontist at some point since he escaped. He'll be able to do a quick extraction."
Sam smiled slightly. "Is everybody still here? I thought there were more cars out the front when I left."
"Jarod's father's gone back to take care of the rest of his family, but he left Jon and Ethan here to help. We'll call him to let him know how things are going."
"Did they find Willie yet?"
"Sam, there's a blockade, remember? Nobody can leave the Centre buildings."
The sweeper nodded slowly, his eyes traveling back to the tabletop, and Sydney eyed him in concern.
"Sam, I think you should try to get some rest."
"I'm fine, sir."
"No, you're not. What time did you finish duty last night?"
"Half an hour before I was called to 'identify' Helen."
"So, after what you said to me, I'll assume you didn't sleep at all when you spent the night with Helen, meaning that you won't have slept for almost sixty hours."
"Probably. Maybe a little less."
"If you want to manage to stay awake tonight, you'll need to sleep for some time this afternoon."
"I've had to stay awake for longer than that before."
"Not when you emotions are drained by worrying about someone else, particularly somebody as important to you as Helen is."
"I'm not going to be able to sleep."
"Even just lying down for a few hours would help."
The psychiatrist eyed him, but the other man jumped in before Sydney could speak again.
"You aren't giving me an option about this either, are you, sir?"
Sydney smiled, shaking his head. "No, Sam, I'm not."
Jarod looked up as the door opened and then returned to the page of details for the project that he was rereading.
"Any change?"
"No, and nor do I expect any for," the Pretender consulted his watch, "more than ten hours."
"Are you going to get some sleep, Jarod?"
The younger man shook his head as Sydney sat down next to him. "I got a couple of hours last night before Steve called."
"Where were you?"
"New Jersey. Helen's house in Falk, actually. She gave me a key."
"Calm down. I wasn't going to accuse you of trespass."
The younger man grinned faintly before becoming more serious. "How's Sam?"
"I talked him into lying down for a while, but I doubt he'll sleep."
"Unless he does, the bruises under his eyes will rival that on Helen's face."
"Is that going to be a problem?"
"Well, it'll give her one hell of a headache, but I checked and there's no bleeding in or around her eyes, so I don't think it's any more than an extensive bruise. As her skin was unbroken, whoever did it was obviously very practiced in that particular maneuver."
Jarod's voice became somewhat bitter as he spoke and the psychiatrist changed the subject rapidly.
"Did you get lunch?"
"You're a little bit late with your civilities, Sydney. It's after five," Jarod grinned. "But, yes, Parker brought me up something."
"And do you want dinner?"
"Not yet, but later."
The sound of the door opening awoke Jarod from a light sleep, and he glanced up at where Sam was drowsing in the other chair before his gaze turned to the bed. The woman lay unmoving, her eyes closed, but the sight of the newcomer to the room brought Jarod hurriedly to his feet, and he picked up the boy, who was struggling to climb up onto the mattress.
"David, what are you doing?"
The boy's eyes were wide as he looked up at the man. "I haven't seen Helen for the whole day!"
His emphasis on the last two words brought a slight smile to the Pretender's face.
"She's been sick, David. I don't think you should see her yet."
"She might feel better from seeing me."
"No, David. I don't want you to."
The boy's lower lip trembled, but he stopped it. "Are you sure?"
"Yes."
For a moment the boy paused. "Can I see her when she's better?"
"I promise that you'll be among the first people she sees when she's better. But now I want you to go back to bed."
"Will you take me there?"
Jarod smiled. "Okay, because you've been so good, I will."
The boy put his arms around Jarod's neck as the Pretender went to the door and looked up at him with such an expression of curiosity on his face that the man had to smile again.
"What is it, baby?"
"How long's she going to be sick for?"
"We're not too sure, David. Maybe the next few days."
"What's wrong with her?"
"I'll tell you some other time. It's late now, and you should be asleep."
Jarod quietly opened the door of the boy's bedroom, trying not to disturb the man who lay on the camp bed in the corner. Pulling the blankets straight, he folded them back and put the child down.
"Will you still be here in the morning?"
"Of course, David. What makes you think I wouldn't be?"
"I heard Helen tell Debbie she'd never want to rely on you hanging around, so I thought you might not be here."
At the sound of the laughter from the corner, Jarod looked around as Sydney sat up and, his own lips twitching, the Pretender turned to the boy again.
"Not this time, David. I'll still be here when you wake up in the morning, but now I want you to be good and go to sleep for me."
"Okay."
The boy lay down and shut his eyes as Jarod pulled up the blankets so they covered him. At the doorway, he turned to find Sydney standing next to him, and the men watched the boy for several minutes before leaving the room.
"That's obedience."
"That's Helen," commented a soft voice from beside them. "Even in only a couple of days, she's taught David that, if somebody tells him to do something, there has to be a good reason for it."
"I thought you were in bed, Steve," Jarod protested.
"I was, but I thought I'd get up and see how Helen was."
The three turned as the door of Helen's room opened and the sweeper came out. "Any change?"
"None that I could see. I heard your voices. That's why I came out."
Sydney put his hand on the man's arm. "Sam, go and lie down for a couple of hours. It won't help anybody if you're exhausted and Jarod and I can watch for a while."
"Are you sure, sir?"
Jarod nodded in agreement. "I'll come in and let you know the instant there's any change."
Numbly the man nodded, allowing the psychiatrist to lead him into the third room, as Steve and Jarod walked into the middle one.
"Our estimate was about thirteen hours, right?"
Jarod glanced at his watch as Steve nodded. "So there’s another hour or two before she should show any real signs..."
"There was nothing that we could think of that would be more effective..."
"Steve, I'm not criticizing you." Jarod put his hand on the other man's arm, trying not to laugh. "I'm just thinking aloud. It's a terrible habit; one Sydney never liked either."
"A person of your intelligence shouldn't need a sounding board," the psychiatrist remarked as he walked in. "Yes, it is a terrible habit, and one you really should try to rid yourself of."
"Sometimes other people can give me ideas as well," the Pretender remonstrated in hurt tones. "I always thought the benefits of that outweighed the negatives."
"I would only accept that excuse if you were coming down with something again, and you've tried that one."
"You were never as nice to me as you were when I was sick," the man grumbled, turning away.
"Well, we can't afford for you to fake another illness, not now."
Steve watched in amazement as redness flooded Jarod's face and his gaze sank in the direction of the floor.
"You said you weren't going to mention that again."
"I won't, unless I think you need a reminder."
"Oh, go to bed," Jarod protested. "Both of you, shoo. I'll call you if I need help."
Helen stared blankly at the ceiling for several seconds before blinking to moisten eyes that felt as if they had been open for hours. A vague sense began to grow in her that something was wrong, that something terrible would happen unless she did something prevent it and she tensed as, for an unknown reason, an image of Angelo appeared in her mind. Her action added to the pain she had felt earlier, and also emphasized the feeling that she was about to get sick. Looking around, she saw a familiar figure standing with his back to her, intently reading something, and Helen wanted to call out, but felt that such an extreme action as that one would increase the urge to bring up her most recent meal. She permitted a soft moan to escape her lips, watching as Jarod turned rapidly in response.
"Helen?"
Moving quickly to the bedside Jarod immediately understood the problem, putting his arm around her back and lifting her to a sitting position. Taking a plastic bowl, he put it under her chin. As she retched he picked up a damp cloth, gently wiping her forehead and holding her until the nausea passed. Panting, she leaned back against his arm, grateful for the support, feeling as if the world had started to spin around her, as he wiped the rest of her face with the cloth.
"You should have mentioned something to your brother about reacting this badly to anesthetics."
"I… I don't…"
"Shh." He gently put a finger against her lips. "Don't talk yet." Jarod picked up a glass of water and held it to her mouth. "Just sip it. More than that and you'll only bring it all up again."
Thankfully she swallowed the water, trying to rid herself of the bitter aftertaste in her mouth, and looked at Jarod as he put the glass down, moistening her dry lips before speaking.
"What happened?"
"How much do you remember?"
"Not much, or I wouldn't be asking, would I?"
He grinned faintly. "I don't want to have to say things that you already know."
For a minute she gazed thoughtfully at the wall before the cause of her abrupt departure from the house returned and she tensed.
"Angelo!"
"He's fine. He's downstairs - asleep, I hope. There was never anything wrong with him."
"So...it was a ploy? He was telling the truth?"
"For once, yes." Jarod watched as Helen's hand snaked up to the side of her face, and he held it down. "That will hurt like crazy, nearly as much as swimming with a broken leg. Leave it alone."
"Since when did you become my doctor?"
"Since your brother decided he didn't like you as you were, and tried to erase all traces of the old you and start over."
"He what?" She stared at him, sitting up straighter, but, feeling the world begin to spin once more, she sank back against Jarod's arm.
"Whoa, take it easy. Considering what you've gone through in the last twenty-four hours, you're doing well for me to let you sit up at all."
"What day is it?"
"It's," he consulted his watch, "nearly three thirty tomorrow morning. As you were trying to sneak in to the Centre, at almost precisely this time yesterday, your beloved brother and his black-suited buddies caught you. They knocked you out - which explains the decorative bruises on the side of your face and your dizziness - and sedated you before trying out a new project that expunges the subject of their old personality in order to create a new one."
"Project Regeneration?"
Jarod looked startled. "Actually, yes. How did you...?"
"It was one of the projects I knew was highest priority." She began to giggle, but stopped as it made her headache increase. "I never imagined that I'd be a subject of it."
"Neither did we." He grinned weakly. "And we weren't too happy about it either."
"You think I was?"
"You weren't thinking at all. That's the point of Regeneration." He placed a finger against her lips again as she opened them to reply. "That's enough now. You need to sleep off that concussion and you haven't had a chance yet."
"Revenge is sweet," she muttered as Jarod gently put her down on the pillow and he laughed softly, pulling up the blankets to cover her.
"It certainly is. You've got a few days of hell coming up."
"I can wait." She yawned but then looked at him sharply. "Where are the kids?"
"They're fine," he soothed. "They're both in bed and asleep. You can see them in the morning."
"It's already morning," she commented, suppressing another yawn. "You said so, and I’ve got no choice but to believe you."
Jarod's lips twitched. "They don't call you a genius for nothing, do they?"
"They don't call me a genius at all," she retorted quickly with a faint grin on her face. "That's your department."
He laughed quietly. "You can see them later. I told David he'd be one of the first people you saw, and I intend to keep that promise, but only if you sleep now."
"You couldn't keep me awake if you tried," she murmured, closing her eyes. "But there's no need to test your power."
"I have no intention of it. Not yet, anyway."
Jarod saw a smile appear briefly on her face before she relaxed, lips parting in a soft sigh as she fell asleep. Gently, he put a hand on her wrist, timing her pulse, before he nodded in satisfaction. Leaving the room, he tapped softly on the next door and pushed it open, speaking quietly.
"Sam?"
"Jarod?” The man sat up immediately. “What is it? Is she...?"
"Shh, you'll wake up Michael. She's fine. She just came around and she's completely lucid with as good a memory of the whole incident as I could have hoped for."
"So… she won't…?"
"No, I promise you that she won't die. Right now she's sleeping off the headache caused by the blow to her head, and she was rather sick when she first woke up, but that could be a reaction to the anesthetic as much as the concussion."
"Can I see her?"
"Not right now. Like I said, she's asleep, so she doesn't seem all that different from the last time you saw her. Also, if she happened to wake up, she'd want to talk to you and she needs rest now, even more than she needs you." He grinned. "You could probably do with some sleep yourself or you'll be as inarticulate as on when you were talking to Sydney into letting you come to Iowa… I mean, New York."
"You were listening?"
"Not from here, but yes, I was. It was highly entertaining." Jarod grinned. "Do you want something to help you to sleep or can you manage on your own?"
"I'll do my best to manage it myself. If I'm still tossing and turning in a few hours, I might consider begging then."
"Sounds good. I've wanted to hear a sweeper begging for a long time."
"Considering the letter of resignation I have planned, you may not get one."
"Oh, darn. I was so looking forward to that." Jarod's expression of annoyance faded into a grin as he reopened the door. "Get some sleep, Sam, and you can spend the rest of the day with her once she wakes up, I promise."
"Jarod?" a voice asked as he closed the door.
The man looked up sharply to see Sydney in front of the closed door to the middle bedroom. "Did I hear voices before?"
"Yes, you did." The Pretender smiled. "Helen came around about twenty minutes ago, and she's doing well."
"So what were you...?"
"After she fell asleep, I went in to tell Sam. Do you want to go and tell Steve and Jon while I sit with her?"
"And when I come back, you can go to bed for some sleep yourself."
"Oh, can I?" The man folded his arms and leaned against the wall. "We'll see."
"Jarod, you've been awake for twenty-four hours straight, driving for a lot of it, as well as needing to be concerned about Helen. You'll need to get at least some sleep so that you can keep looking after her. After all, you were up for the first time after being sick yourself only ten days or so ago."
"Shouldn't you be worrying about Helen and not about me?" the pretender retorted.
"I'm quite capable of worrying about more than one person at a time." Sydney shot a stern glance at the young man as he began to go down the stairs. "I mean it, Jarod."
"Okay, okay." Unable to suppress a smile, Jarod went into the bedroom to check the condition of the sleeping woman.
With a slight yawn, Helen opened her eyes to find Sydney standing by the bed, holding her wrist and timing her pulse.
"Two doctors now? I'm going to be overtreated, if there is such a term."
"Well, when you disobey your first lot of medical orders, it's only fair that I get a second chance, don't you think?"
"Extenuating circumstances. Besides, most doctors make terrible patients."
"You won't get the chance to be otherwise than a good patient, believe me," Sydney told her.
She laughed softly. "What time is it?"
"Almost ten."
"And do I get fed or is my second doctor taking his revenge by not giving me that option?"
"Are you hungry?"
Helen cast an amused look at Jarod as he appeared in the doorway. "You're the one who said I was unconscious for twenty-four hours, and I'm assuming that my brother wasn't nice enough to feed me at any point, so shouldn't I be hungry, or at least allowed to think about food?"
"If you think about it in the way you thought about it when you first came around,” Jarod retorted, “then no, you aren't allowed to."
"I promise, I'll keep down whatever I eat."
"I'm glad to hear it," Sydney laughed. "I'll go and get something, while Jarod gives you the lecture we planned for going to the Centre, regardless of all orders to the contrary."
"As I said, extenuating circumstances." Helen laughed again, despite the fact that it increased the slight headache she had. "How is Angelo anyway?"
"Fine. He's been playing with David and his train set." Jarod sat down on the bed and put a gentle hand on her forehead. "How are you feeling?"
"Other than feeling like someone's used me as a punching bag, not bad. I may not even complain if you make me stay in bed today."
"Today, tomorrow and we'll see about the day after." Jarod took a flashlight out of the bag that sat beside the bed, directing the beam briefly into her eyes to check her responses. "There's still the last vestiges of that concussion around."
"Any vestiges of your weakness?"
"You told Sydney, through your 'messenger', that I was fine," he reminded her as he sat back.
"Based on my observations, not what you told me. But if you’ve carried me out of the Centre then you can't be that bad."
Jarod grinned. "So you think I'd go to the effort of carrying your unconscious body through the air vents? No, I was too busy making sure Angelo didn't keel over."
"So who...?" Trailing off, she glanced at him, a hopeful look in her eyes. "Sam?"
"Who else?" He laughed softly before raising his voice. "Come on in, Sam."
The door was rapidly opened and the man walked into the room, his sole focus on the woman in the bed, to the total exclusion of the room's third occupant.
"Helen?"
"Hi." She held out a hand and he took it, sitting down on the place that Jarod had rapidly vacated.
"Are you okay?"
She smiled. "I'm better now that I know you're alright."
He looked slightly startled. "Why wouldn't I be?"
"Because I know you were inside the Centre when I went there. That was my one concern when I was confronted by my brother - that they might somehow realize you knew me." Her expression became concerned. "I thought they might kill you, or threaten you to keep me there, or maybe even blame you for my escape when they found out about it."
"If you were so concerned," Jarod remarked from the other side of the room as he looked through the papers again. "All you had to do was ask, and I would have told you that he was in Michael's room."
"In Michael's bed as well?"
Helen's lips twitched as she spoke, seeing the expression of relief that appeared on Sam's face at her response and she squeezed his hand. Jarod, meanwhile, came back over to the bedside and looked down at her with an air of exasperation.
"Are you going to be this annoying for the whole of your recovery?"
"If you give me enough opportunities, yes. Besides, it'll be a good way of making sure that I'm not being doctored for one single moment longer than necessary."
"There's gratitude for you!" Jarod rolled his eyes. "All the things I've done..."
"And what about all the things I've done for you?" Helen responded quickly. "With all your broken bones and measles and I still haven't received a thank you."
"I think she wins, Jarod," Sydney remarked laughingly from the doorway, a tray in his hands. "It's not even as if you were working on this one by yourself."
"Speaking of 'this one'," Helen asked seriously as Sam helped her to sit up, piling pillows behind her back. "Does David know that he was responsible for this?"
"He doesn't even know what was wrong with you," Sydney replied calmly, putting the tray across her knees. "We decided to keep it a secret. All he knows is that you haven't been too well."
"And just when were you thinking about all this?" Jarod asked sternly.
"As soon as I was able to think at all," she replied crushingly. "Unlike at least one other individual I could name, I didn't get something that might affect my ability to think during my recovery, and nor did I deny being sick until I was on the verge of collapse."
"You won before, Helen," Sam remarked quietly. "You don't need to keep scoring points now."
"Not even if I want to? It's so much easier against Jarod than it ever was against you that it’s almost impossible not to." The woman giggled. "Although, as I said to my brother, I always did enjoy a challenge."
"Helen..."
"Sam, I'm alright. Honestly. I won't deny that I've got a headache and I'm not too keen on the idea of getting out of bed right now, and I know you've been worrying since it happened but I promise that I'm okay." Leaning over with care for the tray, she gently kissed him. "Please, I’d hate to think that you're still worrying about me when it's no longer necessary."
"Are you sure?"
She raised an eyebrow. "Don't I sound sure?"
"Okay, okay." He raised his hands in protest. "No worrying, I get it."
"Good." She kissed him again. "And as a reward for such wonderful obedience I suggest that you let Jarod spend tonight in the bed you slept in last night and you can spend the night watching me sleep again."
"Now that's definitely an offer I can't refuse."
Sydney glanced at Jarod. "I think we've just been supplanted. It's very clear to me that this doctor means to take care of herself." Smothering his amusement he eyed her. "Now I know why David's so wonderfully obedient."
"I'm good at finding appropriate means of persuasion." Helen finished the last of the orange juice and put the glass back on the tray. "Talking of David, might my nice, kind, generous, thoughtful, considerate doctors allow me to see both he and Michael?"
"Hey," protested Jarod. "How come you get to suck up and I don't?"
"Isn't that obvious?" She smiled. "Because I do it so much better than you."
Sydney choked down his laughter and picked up the tray. "I'll take that away and then bring them in to see you. Anybody else?"
"Well, if you're here, then I can also assume that Miss Parker, Broots and Debbie are too, so would you mind bringing Debbie up as well? I don't want her to start feeling jealous of the other two."
"All right, but just those three and not for very long,” the Pretender ordered. “You can see all the others over time, and you've got a lot of it now."
"Oh, stop trying to assert the authority you haven't got, Jarod. Go to Med. School for years like Sydney and I did and I might condescend to listen to you." Snorting quietly, she rolled her eyes and watched Sydney struggling to hide his laughter as he left the room.
"Helen!"
"Hi, baby."
The sweeper helped the boy up onto the bed before taking the baby that Sydney held out and watching as David threw himself at Helen.
"I missed you," the boy exclaimed.
"But you've been good, right?"
David looked at Jarod out of the corner of his eye. "I've tried hard to be."
"As long as you've been trying, sweetheart, that's the most important thing."
"Hi, Mommy."
The doctor looked up at the sound of the soft voice from the doorway and held out her free arm, the other being around David.
"How's my girl?"
"Good." Debbie gave the woman a firm hug. "Are you okay?"
"I'm a lot better, sweetie, and I'll be fine in a few days."
"What's this?" David lifted his hand and put a gentle finger on the skin beside the discoloration on Helen's face as Debbie sat next to Sam.
"It's a bruise, baby," she told him.
"I know that!" He giggled. "How did it happen?"
"She fell over, David," Sydney put in from the doorway, seeing the hesitation in Helen's eyes.
"Does it hurt?"
"It's not too bad, honey."
The boy looked up at her, his eyes suddenly wide. "There's lots of people here."
"Oh, really?" Helen cast a sharp glance at Sydney, who nodded, before turning to the boy again. "And have they been playing with you?"
"Uh huh." The child beamed. "With my train."
"You like that, don't you, sweetie."
"Yes." He suddenly grinned at her slyly. "But you said that you were always going to tell me the truth and you didn't."
“Oh?” Helen raised an eyebrow. "In what way?"
"Well, when Jarod was bringing the box in, you said it was the stroller, but the box for that was a really different shape."
Hearing a faint choking from the corner of the room, she grinned. "All right, I'll say instead that I'll always tell you truth about important things, like the people you meet, and things you should or shouldn't do. Okay?"
"Yup." He hugged her again. "Will you be eating today?"
Helen caught Jarod's eye and laughed. "I certainly plan to do so, David."
"So do you want to have that thing you made before you got sick? You remember you said you really liked it."
"I do really like it, honey, and I think you will too. How about you and Debbie and Sam make that for dinner, okay?"
"Why not for lunch?" the boy demanded impatiently.
"Miss Parker and Steve are already making lunch," Sydney interposed.
"With my mother," Sam added, smiling at the expression of relief that appeared on Helen's face as he spoke.
"That's someone else I was thinking about." She looked at Sydney. "Can I...?"
"Not yet." He shook his head. "This is enough for now. More than enough."
She gave him a scornful glance in reply. "Yes, I'm sure I look like I'm about to faint away gracefully into Sam's arms."
"That could be awkward," the sweeper responded, a smile curling his lips. "I don't know whether I'd catch you or move away so you didn't land on Michael."
"Give him to me and then you don't have to worry." She took the baby as he was held out, looking down into the little face that immediately smiled in response. "Hi, sweetie."
"Ma-ma."
Helen briefly raised an eyebrow, feeling Sydney's gaze on her, before she slowly nodded, letting the child take a firm hold of her finger. "Yes, Michael," she replied softly. "If you want me to be."
"Everybody gets to call you that but me," the little boy beside her complained.
"If you want to call me that, David, then you can."
"Goody." The child gave a satisfied smile before looking at the sweeper. "Does that mean I get to call him Daddy too?"
Helen choked back a laugh at the expression on the man's face as Sam stared at David in shock.
"And why would you do that, honey?"
"Well, he really cares about you, too, and I heard him say something about wanting to marry you to Miss Parker and if he does, and you're my mom, then shouldn't that make him my dad?"
"Oh, he said that, did he?" Helen raised an eyebrow, eyeing the man and hearing the sounds of vainly suppressed laughter from the other side of the room that were increasing Sam’s feelings of discomfiture.
"Yup," continued David, oblivious to the fact that it was making everything worse. "He told her he was going to ask you when you were living together, but," the boy paused to remember what had been said. "But he thought five months wasn't very long and he didn't want you to feel pressed." The child's face frowned in concentration. "I think that last word's wrong."
"Pressured?" Sydney suggested in half-strangled tones.
"That's it." The boy beamed. "And I know you really care about him, too, so when you marry him, that should make him my dad, right?"
