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Chapter or Story 
Chapter or Story
Part 6
Ashe, New York
Jarod's eyes slowly opened and traveled over the ceiling. He was lying down in bed again. Helen must have put his head back down on the pillow after he fell asleep. He couldn't remember doing that, but it must have happened, if all this was real. Was it real or just a dream? He couldn't really tell. Glancing around again, he saw the man sitting in the chair in the corner. Drowsily, he watched as the psychiatrist stood up and walked over to the bed, sitting down on the edge of it and placing one hand gently on the side of his head, as Helen had done.
"How are you feeling, Jarod?"
He swallowed several times, licking his lips to moisten then. "A... are you real?"
Sydney smiled. "Yes, Jarod, I am real."
"I'm not... dreaming?"
"No, you're awake. You had a lovely, long night's sleep, and now you're awake just in time to have some of the medicine that Helen made for you."
He picked up the glass and, using his other hand to support Jarod's head, watched as the man drank the contents. The younger man smiled faintly as he swallowed the dose.
"It's nice."
"That's good, Jarod. Now just close your eyes and try to sleep again."
"Where's… Helen?"
"She's in with Debbie right now. She'll come in and see you later but I'll stay here until she does."
"Are you here... because I'm sick?"
"That's right, Jarod. And I'll stay here with you until you feel better, I promise."
"Where's... Em?"
"She's gone to bed, Jarod. She needs some sleep too, after staying here with you all night."
He nodded slightly and let his eyelids fall, feeling Sydney's hand gently stroke his hair. Gradually Jarod could feel the peace that crept in on him from all sides and he relaxed into it.
"Here, baby." Helen held the glass of medicine to the little girl's lips, watching as she drank it. "Good girl, Debbie. Very good."
"Mommy?"
"Yes, sweetheart?"
"Can I always call you that?"
"If you want to, Debbie, yes you can."
The girl turned slightly so her face was pressed into Helen's neck. "And will you come live with Daddy and me?"
Helen's eyes widened momentarily. "Well," she hazarded. "We'll see."
"I want you to," the girl murmured softly, her eyelids falling shut. "I want my mom at home with me again."
For a moment, Helen closed her own eyes, feeling her emotions rise, and remembering when, at about Debbie's age, she had asked same thing of one of the nuns. And she could remember, several years later, wishing that the wonderful philosophy teacher could be her mother. The woman’s face came into her mind, along with her son's whispered plea from earlier that morning. Straightening her shoulders, Helen gently put the sleeping girl back against the pillow and stood up. Out of respect for the woman's privacy and regardless of her own keen desire, Helen hadn't even considered trying to find her but she would now. Now she would search for her, bring her to the house and have her sitting beside Jarod's bed when he woke up, with the added benefit that she could spend more time with Debbie. There were only several hundred million people in America. How long could it honestly take? She knew what the woman would be doing, and even possibly the name that she would be doing it under. Seizing the computer, she began searching.
"Morning, Helen."
She glanced up to find Broots in the doorway and smiled. "How did you sleep?"
"Better than you did, I'll bet."
"That's a pretty accurate statement." Helen grinned. "T-Board just started."
"Who?"
"Cox. They used Mr. Parker to get information about his accomplice so now they're turning the tables."
"And?"
"He's spilling his guts. I think he considers it revenge. The only thing that he's still not told them so far is that he was responsible for Lyle's death. Oh, and he hasn't mentioned the robbery either, but I don't know if he knows about it."
Broots grinned. "We've got an entertaining few hours ahead then."
"Sure do. I saved it on your computer so you can watch it whenever you want."
"Thanks, Helen." He looked down. "How's Debbie?"
"As well as I could reasonably expect her to be. I gave her another dose about an hour ago, so her temperature's down right now and she slept well all night."
"Good." He watched as Helen closed her laptop and got out of the chair. "I really appreciate this, Helen. I hope you know that."
She smiled. "It's no trouble, Broots. Really. I like it."
Maverick, Connecticut
Helen stopped outside the house and sat looking at it through the windshield for a few long moments. She could hardly believe it: she actually felt nervous. It was such a ridiculous thing to be feeling, but she was. Reaching for the door handle, Helen was about to open it when the cell phone lying on the passenger seat rang.
"Hello?"
"Helen, where are you?"
She grinned. "Considering you don't know where you are, Sydney, there wouldn't be a lot of point in me telling you where I am, would there now?"
"All right, what are you doing, wherever you are? I thought that we were all supposed to be under quarantine restrictions."
"You are. As the doctor, I don't have to be. You should know that." The sound of quiet laughter on the other end of the line made her grin. "Don't worry, Sydney. I'll be back in a few hours, before the day shift's over anyway. Maybe even in time to get some sleep myself."
"And you're up to driving?"
"If I wasn't, I wouldn't be doing it. I wouldn't risk either my life or that of others by doing something that stupid. Don't worry, Sydney. Or, if you find that you have to, worry about Jarod instead. I'll be fine."
He laughed again. "Yes, Doctor."
As she disconnected the call, Helen saw a car pull up in the driveway and caught her breath as a familiar figure stepped out of it, collecting several books before walking to the house. For several minutes Helen froze in her seat, unable to move, but as the door shut behind the woman, Helen broke out of her reverie and got out of the car. Nervously she walked up the path, trying to control the trembling in her fingers as she pressed the doorbell.
"Miss Taylor?"
Helen broke the silence that had started when the woman opened the door and she watched as the woman blinked for the first time in several minutes.
"H… Helen?"
"I hope you don't mind me intruding on you like this."
"I… I can't believe it." Margaret stared in disbelief at the slender figure. "How in heaven’s name did you manage to track me down? Even the Centre hasn't done that in almost a year."
"And they definitely won't do it now." Helen grinned. "I know your current job finished today, so do you have an objection to me 'borrowing' you?"
"For what purpose?"
"I've got a couple of people who would love to see you."
"Oh, really?" Margaret raised one eyebrow and looked suspiciously at her former student. "That's the same tone of voice you used once when you wanted to hand in an essay late. What aren't you telling me?"
"Couldn't you just trust me, ma'am?"
"No. I'm not good at trusting people, Helen. Even you. Not anymore."
Helen took out Miss Parker's pursuit photo of Jarod, which she had taken earlier that day, and held it up in front of the older woman. "Anything about that face strike you as even vaguely familiar?"
Grinning, Helen watched as tears came into Margaret's eyes and heard her gasp as she stared at the image. Her voice, when she finally managed to speak, was a faint whisper "You know where my son is?"
"Right now, lying in bed and, with any luck, sleeping."
"What?"
"He got the measles from another patient who's at my house. He asked me this morning if his mom was coming to see him and I thought it was time I tracked you down. It took a few hours but, obviously, I did it."
The woman gingerly took the photo from Helen's hand and, almost disbelieving, touched the face with a gentle finger. "And… it's really him?"
"Well, Emily said it was."
Margaret looked up sharply. "She's there, too?"
"We've been friends for a year now. She ended up at the place we first met." The doctor waved in the direction of her car. "Why don't I tell you the rest on the way?"
New York
"He might not believe that you're really there, Miss Taylor."
"Helen, if you call me that once more, I'll push you out of the car."
The younger woman laughed. "How can I possibly call my former teacher by her first name?"
"Would you like me to call you by your surname?"
"No, please, anything but that!"
Margaret smiled. "Then stop it."
"Yes, ma'am."
"As for what you were saying before, he'll know me though, right?"
"Definitely. He's got a pretty high fever - the measles will do that to people - and I told him before I made the decision to come and find you that he should dream you were there, meaning that he'll probably think that's what happening. But as his temperature goes down he'll know it's no dream." Helen grinned. "And I've got no doubt Emily will know who you are right away."
"But he's not too sick, right? I mean, he won't..."
"I'd be surprised if he had more than just a high fever and a couple of the other nasties that go along with the measles. He's a strong, fit man and that's helping."
Margaret nodded and half-smiled. "I was worried when I got that a few years ago, but now I'm glad I did."
"Worried?" Helen glanced over at the woman. "Why?"
"It's hard to run when walking seems impossible."
"That's true. Well, you don't have to worry about that now. Oh, but I guess I should mention one or two little things before we get there."
Margaret's voice was immediately filled with tension. "Such as?"
"Uh, in no particular order, Sydney, Miss Parker and Mr. Broots."
"What?" The older woman stared at the driver. "Why is the pursuit team there?"
"I abducted Sydney, Broots and his daughter a few days before Jarod arrived at the house. After Lyle died..."
"He's dead?"
"Yes, he was killed a few days ago."
"K… killed?"
"His father believed Lyle knew too much and had him assassinated. We rescued Miss Parker just in time to prevent her from being next on the hit list."
"So… they're not… they won't…?"
"Margaret, I wouldn't be bringing you here if I felt that there was the smallest risk of them doing it. Right now, they're as much in danger from the Centre as we are. I told you about the mainframe disaster. Believe me, they're very different people from those you might expect. Broots is worried about Debbie, Sydney's worried about Jarod and Miss Parker is waiting to get sick. She's the only person at the house who hasn't had the measles so we're waiting for her to come down with it as well."
"Why don't you just open a hospital there?"
Turning into her street, Helen grinned. "Trust me, I've thought about it."
Ashe, New York
Helen opened the door, watching Emily stir something on the stove. "Early dinner or late lunch?"
Emily spun around and then grinned. "Do you mind not scaring me out of twenty years' growth?"
"That would make you Jarod's big sister instead of his little one. Not to mention that it would make you your mother's oldest child instead of her baby girl."
The woman's face became slightly wistful. "Yeah, I guess it might be nice."
"I wouldn't want to lose my baby, Emily," Margaret stated.
The spoon fell from the woman's hand as she stared at the figure that moved in to the doorway, and then Emily threw herself at her mother. With a laugh, Helen started to clean up the mess, turning to see Sydney standing in the doorway.
"What on earth...?"
"I thought I'd give Emily a pleasant surprise." Helen grinned. "I tracked her down this morning." She threw the paper towel in the bin. "How's Jarod?"
"Sleeping right now. I gave him some medicine about twenty minutes ago, so his fever's down, and I decided to take advantage of it to make some coffee for both Broots and I."
"You do that. I'll slip up and check on him."
Opening the door, she stepped across to the bed and looked down to see a faint smile on Jarod's face. For several minutes, she silently watched him sleep, about to leave again when he opened his eyes and looked at her. Seating herself on the bed, Helen helped him to sit up and lean back against her, stroking his hair.
"What were you dreaming about, Jarod?"
"Mom." He closed his eyes as if wanting to return to the dream. "I thought she was here with me, holding me like you are now."
Helen glanced up in time to see the door open and the woman enter, hesitating on the threshold. Smiling, Helen nodded and Margaret moved over to sit down on the bed.
"Open your eyes, Jarod."
"You're always telling me to close them."
She laughed softly. "I know, but now I want you to open them, just for a moment."
"Really?"
"I think you'll want to see this."
He hesitated briefly before his eyes opened, dreamily gazing the woman in front of him, and his smile was faint. "I went back to sleep fast, huh?"
"Yes, Jarod." Margaret's voice was soft and, as she pronounced his name, tears glittered in her eyes. "Yes, you did."
"Stay with me, Mom. Please. Don't vanish when I wake up."
Placing one hand on his, she smiled. "I promise, Jarod. I'll still be here when you wake up again.”
"That'd be nice." His voice was a murmur as his eyes closed, unable to stay open any longer, and Helen felt him relax against her. Smiling, she looked up.
"I told you he'd know who you were."
Margaret nodded, a tear trickling down her cheek as she looked at her sleeping son face, lying against Helen's shoulder.
Yawning, Helen opened her eyes to find Sydney standing beside the bed.
"I didn't want to have to wake you, but you did tell me to."
"Lucky I did it for you then." She grinned. "My internal clock's pretty accurate."
"Are you sure you don't want me to sit with Debbie so you can sleep for a little bit longer?"
"Thanks, Sydney, but it's fine. How's Jarod?"
"He hasn't woken since he saw his mother." There was a faint smile on the psychiatrist’s face and Helen glanced at him sharply.
"You're not jeal…?"
"No, Helen." He sat down on the bed. "No, if it helps him to get better faster with her here, that's all that matters."
"Sure?"
"Yes."
"And how's Debbie?"
"Better after her last dose of medicine but she was pretty feverish before that."
"And Miss Parker?"
"I examined her an hour ago before sending her to bed and she's fine."
Helen sat up, grinning. "Well, thank you for your end-of-shift report, Doctor. I'll let you get some sleep yourself now."
He laughed and touched her hand for a moment. "Have a good night, Helen."
She softly opened the door to the first bedroom and slipped inside, smiling at the woman who sat in the chair.
"How's he doing?"
"You're the doctor, Helen. I'm just a teacher, remember?"
"You're his mother, Margaret. That makes a difference."
"He's slept since he saw me."
"Yes," Helen agreed with a smile. "He feels even safer, knowing you're here as well, and his subconscious doesn't feel the need to keep waking him. It's the best thing for him right now. He'll recover much faster. But he needs his medicine too. Want to give it to him?"
"You do it."
Understanding, she nodded. "No problem." Going over, she sat beside the sick man and gently shook him. "Jarod, I need you to wake up now."
"Mom?"
Seeing the expression on Margaret's face, Helen smiled. "She's here too, Jarod, but this is Helen and I need you to open your eyes for me."
His lashes fluttered and then lifted, glaring at her. "It's not good to tease sick people, Helen."
His voice cracked as he said her name, and, as he coughed, Jarod tried to roll over, but his strength failed. She helped him to sit up, supporting him until the fit was over. At last, he lay back against her shoulder, his face white and eyes closed as he drank the medicine. After he finished, she spoke.
"How was I teasing you, Jarod?"
"Saying that… about Mom…"
"One of these days somebody will going to have to try trusting me." Helen made her voice more persuasive. "Why don't you be that person, Jarod? I wouldn't say it, not if it wasn't really true, and definitely not after all this time."
Glancing over at the woman, Helen nodded and Margaret stood, coming to sit on the bed.
"When you open your eyes,” the doctor continued. “If she's sitting on the bed in front of you, will you believe me, that she's really here? You're chest's still sore with coughing so that will tell you it's not a dream."
"Okay." His voice was weak and he paused. "I can't..."
"I did say you had to open your eyes, Jarod."
He nodded, smiling faintly, and slowly his eyelids opened. For several seconds, he stared at the woman who was sitting in front of him before his eyes widened.
"M… Mom?"
There was an air of incredulity in his whisper, as if Helen had somehow stages it all. Feeling the weight of the cast on his right hand, Jarod raised the left one and tentatively reached out to the woman who sat with tears in her eyes, smiling at him. Gently she covered his hand with her own and replaced it on the bed before using her other hand to touch his cheek.
"It's all right, Jarod. I'm here now."
"B… but how…?"
"Helen came and found me, Jarod. She told me you were sick."
Suddenly, in concern, Helen saw tears in the man's eyes, his smile vanishing, to be replaced by a look of worry.
"What is it, Jarod?" Despite her anxiety, Helen kept her voice soft. "Tell us what's wrong."
"Y…you'll go…” he stammered, in panicked tones, “when I sleep..."
"No, Jarod." Margaret shook her head, leaning closer to him. "No, I promise that I won't go while you're asleep. I'll be right here."
Feeling Jarod tense, Helen resumed the stroking of his hair that she had stopped while he spoke with his mother. Lowering her voice to that soft, hypnotic murmur once more, she began to softly speak reassurances in his ear.
"Jarod, I promise you that she'll still be here when you wake up. She won't leave you until you get better. You know you can believe me when I say tell you. I was right about you being sick, wasn't I, and I'm right about this too. She and Sydney are going to take care of you, and they'll both stay until you're well again. Every time you wake up from now on, one or other will be sitting here with you, beside you. You'll still have to sleep though, Jarod. You can't get well if you don't sleep, and then we'll all worry about you. You can still feel your mother there, next to you, holding your hand. It's better than it was in the dreams, isn't it Jarod? You know she's really there and that makes it a lot better. After you dream about her, then you can open your eyes and see her too, feel her. But you have to sleep too. Just relax now, Jarod. Sleep."
Sleep, he thought, dreamily gazing at the woman on the bed next to him. Sleep and mother. They went together before. They must go together now too. Maybe, if I don't sleep now, then I'll get too sick to know she's there. But she will be. She said so. Helen said so too and she was right before. She knew what I was thinking before, last time, so she probably knows what I'm thinking now, as well, knows how tired I feel, how heavy my eyelids are...
"Close your eyes, Jarod. You can't sleep if you don't close them and they'll be just as sore as they were last time if you fight to keep them open. Remember how terribly painful they were, throbbing and with such heavy eyelids? You don't want it to happen again, do you? Just let them close and remember that your mother will still be here, still beside you. She's not going anywhere. I promise she won't and I keep my promises. But you have to close your eyes."
Yes, he thought sleepily. I remember how much it hurt then, and when I closed my eyes, it didn't hurt anymore. And she says it’ll happen again if I leave them open. I don't want that. I can still feel that Mom's here, still holding my hand, and her hand’s resting on my cheek. When I open my eyes, she'll still be there. Helen said that before, and she's always right. But now I'll close them. I'll close them and relax. This is even nicer than it was before. Now I'm safe. Safe... mother... sleep...
Helen gently lowered the sleeping man’s body back onto the bed and covered him, tucking in the blankets before she looked at Margaret. The woman had retreated to the chair and sat silently looking down at her son. Seeing the expression of concern in her eyes, Helen went over and sat in the chair next to her.
"It's all right. It's natural for him to feel like that."
"How?" The older woman's eyes were wide. "I'm here, in front of him, holding his hand. Why can't he feel that? Why can't he believe that I won't leave?"
"Margaret, the last time that he saw you was almost five years ago." She stressed the time. "And, when that happened, it was a Centre trap and you had to run. The fever is confusing his thinking, and he believes you're going to have to disappear like that again. He won't feel like that when he gets over the fever and is more awake, more alert, but for now it's all he can understand."
"So we'll have to do that… every time he wakes up...?"
"No, I don't think so. It won't be exactly the same anyway. Each time that he finds you beside him, he'll be more easily convinced that you really won't leave. He's more alert in the mornings - that's normal with any sort of fever - so he'll be able to believe it more easily then, too. He's been a little better each night so far and I wouldn't expect tomorrow to be any different. Besides we can easily calm him down whenever he feels like that again. Being so unwell, he can't move around enough to do any damage and with you in front of his eyes he won't really want to either." Helen glanced up in time to see the door open the door and Emily come into the room. Smiling, she stood up. "I'll be right next door, all night. If anything happens, you can come and get me."
Margaret nodded slowly and Emily slipped into the chair beside her, reaching out to put one hand over that of her mother in a gesture of reassurance. Silently, Helen left the room, closing the door behind her, and entered the room next door.
"Sorry to take so long."
Broots glanced up with a smile and closed the laptop. "No problem, Helen. How's Jarod?"
"A little feverish still, but not bad. I understand Debbie was, too."
"Since she had her most recent dose of medicine, she's been better."
"I'm glad to hear it." Helen reached into her pocket and pulled out two cloth items, putting them on the bedside table.
"What are they?" the man asked curiously.
"Scratch prevention." She laughed softly, gently turned the head of the girl to one side. Brushing aside the hair, she showed Broots the brighter pink of the skin behind Debbie's ears. "I thought it was about time the rash started and it looks like I was right."
"And it'll be itchy?"
"Can't you remember from when you had the measles?"
"Not really." Broots grinned. "It was quite a while ago."
"Well, it itches like crazy. I've got some cream as well, but I don't want her to rub her skin raw so I asked Miss Parker and Emily to run up several pairs today with my sewing machine. I've got sets for the two definite patients as well as for Miss Parker, all in different colors."
"Very organized of you." He watched as she slipped the first one on Debbie's left hand and did up the soft drawstring. "Will she be able to undo them?"
"Unless she gets going with her teeth, no. And I think we'd spot that before she got them undone. Besides, until that fever goes away, she'll hardly notice." Helen put on the other bag and did it up. Glancing up, she smiled. "Were you planning to go to bed tonight, Broots, or did you want to stay up?"
"Is that a subtle hint?"
"Not at all. If you want to stay up, go for it. I don't mind."
"I might. She's been kind of clingy today." He looked up at her. "She was missing you, I think."
Helen sat down on the end of the bed, facing him, and spoke hesitantly. "Broots, if you don't want her to get too attached to me, I'll make sure she doesn't."
"It's not that." He spoke hurriedly. "I don't mind that she calls you 'mommy' or any of that. I really don't. I just hate the thought that another mother's going leave her again, as soon as we can go home."
The doctor nodded. "I know. But she's only like this now because she's feeling so sick. Sick kids always want their mothers and I'm filling that gap right now. Things could change when she gets better."
"And if they don't?"
"Well," Helen smiled. "I'm in Blue Cove pretty often. I could always come to visit."
"You'll still keep stealing from the Centre, despite the fact that it's pretty well non-existent now?"
"Oh it's not." She grinned. "Despite what I said to Miss Parker earlier about losing her job, I doubt she will. Jarod's just as important to the Triumvirate as he's ever been. They need people to hunt for him. As soon as I 'let you go', I'm sure they'll be pleased to have you back."
"But what about Mr. Parker and Cox? Oh, and Raines?"
"What normally happens when they get pulled up in front of a T-Board? They get told off and life goes on. I think it will in this case too." Helen leaned forward. "The Triumvirate wants information about a lot of projects and, as a lot of it's inside the heads of those men they're questioning, they won't do much until they retrieve it all."
"And after that?"
She grinned. "That will depend on how important those three men can persuade the Triumvirate they actually are."
The Centre
Blue Cove, Delaware
"A theft?" The man raised his eyes as the interrogation room door shut behind the last sweeper. "Interesting what you have to do to a person before they can remember a little thing like that."
"Who would it have been?"
The first man raised an amused eyebrow. "I think I can guess."
"Oh, really?" The third man looked at him. "Want to let us in on the secret?"
"We've had a series of reported thefts in this place since early 1996." Rising from his chair, the man started to pace the room. "If we had access to the mainframe, I'd show you some of the DSAs..."
"But we don't, we know. So you'll have to tell us."
"A woman's been sneaking in and out of the Centre, taking files and DSAs. She's obviously very well aware of what she wants because her visits usually only last for about fifteen minutes, from the time of entry."
"Do we know anything about this woman?"
"We had Jarod run a sim on a half-print that she left during what we assume was her first theft, so we've got a complete mental profile but otherwise that's it. The results of that simulation, of course, are on the mainframe."
"So let's get Sydney here to give a report on it."
"Now we hit another snag." The man reseated himself, speaking calmly. "Sydney, Mr. Broots and Miss Parker are missing."
The second man looked up. "And you know this how?"
"A report from the office reached me this morning that none of them have reported in for a couple of days. Miss Parker hasn't been here since the day before yesterday, and neither of the two men checked in the day before that. I got a sweeper to check and Broots' daughter wasn't at school for those days either. Those three hang together like grapes and you've got to admit that the timing was nice - just before Mr. Lyle was killed."
"You don't think that they were involved?"
"No, I don't. The question is whether they left of their own accord or not. If so, the three of them might have known what was planned. If not, somebody else did."
"And that somebody else could be this woman who stole the files?"
"It's just conjecture, but it's possible..."
Ashe, New York
Helen slipped the phone out of her pocket and stared at it for several moments in silence until Broots grew impatient.
"What are you planning?" he asked.
"Wondering whether to call them and confirm their suspicions."
"What?!" He stared at her. "Why would you do something like that? They can't find out anything about you without the mainframe so why not just leave them guessing?"
"Because they'll be so much angrier when they know for sure and that's always a lot of fun."
He couldn’t help grinning. "Okay, that's true, but why would you want to tell them? All it will do is get sweepers combing the country and they might just find us."
Nodding, she slipped the phone back into her pocket. "You're right. I can't take a risk like that, not while Debbie and Jarod are sick." She glanced at the computer and watched the three men leave the T-Board room. "If they go ahead with their investigation the way our friend just ordered, they'll find that email I sent to Miss Parker to say I had the three of you, so that'll tell them a bit anyway."
Broots took the computer and rewound the footage, pausing on the image of the redheaded man, and then looked at Helen. "You don't have a brother, do you?"
She shrugged. "Not that I know of, no. But I was only five when my parents died. Still, I’d expect to remember something like that." The doctor narrowed her eyes. "You aren't honestly trying to suggest that I'm related to the head of the Triumvirate, are you?"
"It's possible. He does look quite like you." He turned the computer around and she stared at the face before looking up.
"I don't see it."
"Because you don't want to, or because you aren't very good at recognizing your own features on somebody else's face?"
"Broots, please! Don't make such awful suggestions!"
"It'd be wonderfully ironic, wouldn't it?" He grinned. "That guy's spent the last few years hoping to catch Jarod and you've spent even longer trying to prevent them from experimenting on him."
She grinned half-heartedly. "Well, I guess it could be a little amusing."
"Want me to see what I can find?"
"Not really, no. I don't think I can deal with it if you're right."
"But now you'll wonder about it until it drives you nuts."
Groaning, she rolled her eyes. "Why didn't you go to bed when I suggested it?"
"Mommy?" interrupted a weak voice at this point.
"Yes, sweetie." Helen sat down beside the girl and started to brush the hair out of her eyes. "I'm right here."
"Where were you all day?" Debbie opened her eyes and looked up, struggling to a sitting position and leaning against the woman who immediately wrapped both arms and a blanket around her. "I missed you."
"I went to bring Jarod's mommy here so she could sit with him and I could spend more time here with you."
"Really?" The expression on the girl's face was a drowsy incredulity.
"Really. I'll still have to check on him every now and then, but I can sit here all the rest of the time with you."
"That's nice." The girl nestled further into the woman's arms. "I'd like that."
"I'm glad." Helen began to gently stroke the girl's hair. "Now just close your eyes, sweetheart. I'll be right here when you wake up again."
"Mmm hmm." Debbie leaned back against the woman, enjoying the arms around her before she let herself relax.
After feeling her fall asleep, Helen looked up to where Broots was watching her.
"Do I want to know?"
"Congratulations, Helen." He grinned. "You have a brother."
"Oh, wonderful." She rolled her eyes as she put the sleeping girl down on the bed and gently put the blankets over her. "The only other family tree I know that's so twisted is the Parker one."
Broots shut the computer. "Are you going to do anything about it?"
"Not now. I'll just try and get used to the idea while taking care of everybody here and then, once you've all gone, I'll try to work out something appropriate." With a grin, she stood up. "I'm sure I can come up with something."
He laughed. "I'm sure you can too. Are you going to tell anyone?"
"Broots, every person in this house, with the exceptions of Debbie and Jarod, has, at some point in the last couple of days, told me they don't trust me. I don't believe this would go a long way towards building that trust."
"Helen, I think they were all kidding. I know I was."
"Still, there's always a grain of truth to those things, so let's keep this a secret for now, okay?"
He nodded. "But can you tell them all before we leave here? I really want to see their faces."
Slowly she grinned. "So do I. Okay, that's what we'll do."
Walking down the hall a little way, Helen pushed open the bedroom door and looked inside to see Emily sleeping against her mother's shoulder.
"How's everybody doing?"
"Fine, Helen." Margaret smiled. “Jarod hasn't woken up since you were last here, and he seems to be sleeping soundly."
Stepping across, the doctor rested two gentle fingers on Jarod's wrist and timed his pulse before glancing up at Margaret. "He's doing very well. As I said, your son's a very fit man, and I think that he'll get over this without complications. In fact, I'd say that in a few days, he'll be complaining because he has to stay in bed."
"He won't complain too much." Margaret looked stern. "I won't let him."
"Oh, boy." Helen rolled her eyes. "I didn't think I'd have to hear you telling people off ever again."
"I never did it to you."
"You never had to. I made sure of it." She grinned. "It could be entertaining to listen to anyway. Sydney will probably be in hysterics over it."
A faint smile crossed Margaret's face, but her eyes were suddenly hard. "I can imagine he might be."
"Margaret, he did what he thought was best for Jarod at the time."
"I know he did." She looked at her son. "But it's still hard for me to understand how he kept Jarod in the Centre for so long."
Helen nodded. "Why don't you talk to him about it, get his side of the story?"
"I might even do that." The older woman paused. "I'd really like to know what my son was like, growing up."
Even as she nodded, Helen pulled the soft material out of her pocket, slipping it on to Jarod's left hand and doing up the string.
"What…?"
"Just to prevent him from scratching himself. I don't expect the rash to appear yet, but he might as well get used to them." She pulled out the other one and eased it over his cast.
"What happened to his hand?"
The doctor looked up guiltily. "I...ran him over."
"You did what?!"
"He ran out onto the road in front of my car and I couldn't brake in time."
"And then what happened?"
Helen described the scene, by the end of which Margaret was flushed from struggling to suppress her laughter. Wiping the tears away from her eyes with her free hand, the other being lovingly around Emily’s shoulders, she looked up. "Was that as revenge for the exam I made you write two days before I left Philadelphia?"
"Perhaps." The doctor laughed softly. "You should give that exam to Jarod after he gets better. I'd love to compare his answers with mine - genius with just average ability."
Margaret eyed her. "I think average is being unkind to yourself, Helen. You might not qualify as a genius, but you do pretty well in the brains department."
"I had good teachers." With a smile, Helen opened the door. "I'll be back in a few hours to check on him. Call me if you need anything."
Miss Parker rolled over and looked at the clock. Being almost seven, she thought that it was late enough for her to get out of bed, and she lazily sat up. As with all the other mornings she'd been here, she enjoyed the idea that she didn't have to go to the Centre and could spend all day doing very little.
Sitting up, however, she frowned as a slight headache began, and made a mental note to mention it to Helen or Sydney when they came down to see how she was. Her body felt heavy as she got left the room, heading for the bathroom. Going into the room, she saw the bed linen that was all bundled together in the corner, waiting for somebody to come down and put it in the washing machine.
For several moments Miss Parker gazed at the pile, feeling her eyes start to burn as she stared blankly at the soft, white heap fabric. An idea suggested itself to her as she swayed on her feet, and although it was not a thing she would normally have contemplated, suddenly she couldn't find anything wrong with it. Dreamily, she walked over and lowered herself so she lay down among the sheets. For several seconds, Miss Parker snuggled into the material, yawning sleepily, before she let her heavy eyelids fall.
"Sydney?"
Helen stuck her head around the door and the psychiatrist looked up from the electric jug on the bench that he had just turned on. "Yes, Helen?"
"Have you checked Miss Parker this morning?"
"No, not yet. I was going to do it once I'd made coffee, unless you want to."
"As you're busy, I will." Smiling, she walked over to the cellar door and opened it, going down the stairs and turning on a light as she passed. The bedroom door was open and she stuck her head inside, her brow furrowing briefly when she found the room empty.
"Miss Parker?"
Turning, she glanced into the other rooms before arriving at the bathroom. Seeing that the door was half-open, she looked inside. For several seconds she stood, staring at the woman curled up on the pile of linen, before going over and sinking on her knees beside the sleeping body.
"Miss Parker, it's time to wake up now. Come on." Gently she shook the woman, feeling that she was slightly but not excessively warm. Slowly Miss Parker's eyes opened as she lazily looked up.
"Hi, Helen," she sighed drowsily.
"How are you feeling this morning?"
"Tired." She yawned, her eyelids drooping heavily. "Can I stay here?"
"No, I don't think so." Helen smiled as she looked around.
"But… it's so…" The woman's voice trailed off as her eyelids closed and she nestled deeper into the soft material again. Gently putting two fingers on Miss Parker's wrist, the doctor's brow furrowed again as she felt the slow, regular pulse.
"Helen?"
"The bathroom, Sydney."
"What on earth…?" He came into the room and stopped short, a smile on his face. "She's coming down with it, right?"
"No, I don't think so."
"No?" He stepped over. "How can she not be?"
"Her pulse is slow and regular, not heightened and bounding as I would expect it to be. And she's completely lucid, just drowsy. It doesn't fit."
"So what is it?"
"That's the problem." She looked up in faint amusement. "I don't know."
"Parker?" The psychiatrist leaned over the woman, shaking her gently. "Parker, I want you to look at me."
"No, Sydney." Her voice was a soft mumble as she turned her head away. "I'm really comfortable now. Let me sleep."
Lips twitching, he watched the woman fall asleep again, her hand lying in a relaxed fist beside her face. "I see what you mean." Glancing up, he saw a look of curiosity on the face of the doctor and turned to her. "What is it?"
"I almost think she's been drugged."
He looked at her skeptically. "How could she have been? Who'd have done it? I doubt you would have and I know none of us did."
She shrugged as she got to her feet, heading for the door. "I don't know, but I think that's what's happened. I'll just be a sec."
