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Chapter or Story
I don’t own the characters of the Pretender of the Profiler. Fox, TNT, NBC, and maybe others own the Pretender. I’m not sure who owns the Profiler, as it has been cancelled. I am merely borrowing the characters from these shows for my fanfic story. No money has changed hands. Just consider it free advertising for your shows, and please don’t sue me.
No one can endure horrendous pain without seeking some form of relief, if the pain is unbearable for too long a time. Not even a pretender. In Jarod’s case though, he wasn’t seeking it, but it found him. 10-14-2000
In Pursuit Of Happiness
Part 26
by jojarod50
The Marquee Hotel
Room 629
10:16 PM Saturday night
“Gemini, would you please go get us some ice?”
“This is about Jarod isn’t it?”
“Just do what I say,” the Major said irritably, before catching himself. “I’m sorry, it’s late and I’m just getting tired,” he said smiling, and handing him the bucket.
“Sure, dad,” Gemini said, knowing from the phone call he’d overheard, that they were bringing Jarod down and that he was drunk.
*
Moments later…
“Go ahead and put him in the adjoining room. God knows, I don’t want Gemini to see this,” he said, watching Broots and Joe half dragging his drunken son into the other room.
*
5 minutes later…
“Major Charles, I was unable to give Jarod his final shot because of his alcohol level. If it’s not imposing too much, I need to give it to him…. What time is it now… at 6:00 AM? I’ve arranged for Dr. Green to start working with him tomorrow afternoon, if you’ll sanction it. He also wants to see Gemini at 10:00am for a consultation. This is a very serious development. If Jarod continues to drink, it will dimish his chances of getting well anytime soon.”
“Any time soon? Don’t you think I know that? Dr. Meisser, Agent, or who ever the hell you are. Damn you all to hell.My son’s been in excruciating pain for weeks and no one has helped him apprecibly at all. I’m sick to death of you people reasuring me that you know what to do for him. I’m going to loose him if someone doesn’t kick in with some real help soon. You told me my wife and my daughter are arriving on Friday. This will kill his mother to see him like this. Excuse me; let yourself out the door. I need to see to my son,” he said abruptly leaving the room, wastebasket in hand.
***
Ajoining room 629b
10:29 PM
“Jarod, you may need to use this wastebasket. It’s right down here by your bed,” the Major said, while taking his son’s shirt, dress pants, and shoes off and setting them aside.
“ Uummm…dizzy.”
“Welcome to drinking 101, Jarod,” he said looking down at the poor kid.
“Sss..sick.”
“I’m not surprised,” his dad said, puttting a cool cloth on Jarod’s forhead. “Just try to lay still and maybe you won’t…”
Jarod leaned over the bed suddenly and his dad barely got the wastebasket to him in time.
After a few moments…
“ss… sorry…” he slurred.
“I know, Jarod, just try to relax, I’m sorry, too. Dr. Meisser will be by at 6:00 AM to give you the 9:00 shot that you missed . Jarod, you’re going to have to pull yourself together. You’re mom and sister will probably be here on Friday or Saturday. You’ve got to leave the alcohol alone. I had a best friend that destroyed himself with it, and I’ll be damned if I’ll stand by and have that happen to you.”
Jarod moaned groping for the trashcan and threw up again before developing the dry heaves. That went on for about 5 minutes before he finally passed out.
The Major waited quite a while to see if he was going to be ill any more. Then pulling the covers over Jarod’s shoulders, he retrieved the waistbasket and left him alone to sleep it off.
* * *
The Marquee Hotel
Room 626b
6:00 AM Sunday
“Jarod, wake up. Dr. Meisser is here to give you your shot,” Major Charles said, entering the other room and shaking his son slightly.
“Dad? What’s going on?” Jarod asked urgently, sitting up slightly, experiencing a horrible headache, his heart pouding wildly in his chest. He was vaguly aware of what he’d done last night, and felt horribly nausious and ashamed.
“Jarod, I’m sorry I was detained getting to the the dinner party, but by the time I got there, I didn’t dare give you your shot with all the alcohol in your system,” Meisser said, giving Jarod a serious look. “I don’t think getting it now will effect your recovery, at least on this front, but I need to talk with you about what happened last night.”
Jarod fell back against his pillows, the room slightly spinning, still tasting the alcohol in his mouth.
“Go away.”
“I can’t do that, Jarod. You have to have your shot now or it’s not going to do you any good. This is your last one, remember?” he asked, as he tapped the bubbles out and wiping Jarod’s arm with an alcohol swab.
”The defeated young man lay still with his eyes shut, feeling the needle pierce his arm and wishing he had never taken a drink. He felt angry with himself and totally out of control, but the funny thing was, there was an increasing part of him that just didn’t care any more.
“Jarod, your family is very worried about you. This afternoon, I’d like to have Sydney give you some counseling. I think that he, more than anyone, can help you. And with your brother....”
He turned his head away, bitterly hating what he had become. He remembered a time when he would taunt Parker and dance around the sweepers, all the while helping some helpless victim regain their life. Now he was the victim and couldn’t find any way out.
“Ok, why don’t you just think about it. I’ll call back later to see what you ‘ve decided. Jarod, you’re going to need counseling any way you look at it. If you don’t want Sydney, I’m sure we could find someone else.”
Needing the darkness, Jarod rolled over on his side facing the wall and tried to go back to sleep, wishing he hadn’t survived Lyle’s last attack.
* * *
Room 629b
8:23 AM
Jarod staggered into the bathroom, nausiated by the smell of breakfast coming from the other room. Even the sound of the water running in the shower was almost too much to bear.
Waves of depression poured over him, as he fought to keep thoughts of the beer and champagne out of his mind. He had felt indiscribably happy last night and he was craving that relief again.
As the hot water sprayed on his soapy body, he leaned against the tile wall and cried bitterly, feeling like it was pointless to fight his illness anymore.
After getting dressed, he still felt so ill, he laid back down for a couple of hours more.
* * *
Room 629
10:55 AM
“I’m sorry, Miss Parker, Jarod left about 20 minutes ago. He said something about wanting to get a couple of newspapers and some coffee in the restaurant down stairs.
“How was he doing, Major?”
“Not good at all. I don’t ever remember seeing him quiet like this. He has an appointment with Sydney this afternoon, but he already said he wasn’t going to go. Miss Parker, I think he could use a friend right now. I was just going to go down stairs to check on him, but if you wouldn’t mind...”
“I’ll leave right away. I’m worried about Jarod, too. This just isn’t like him.”
“Thank you. I’ve seen how my son looks at you.. He cares very deeply about you. Maybe you can help him find the will to fight this. I think he’s given up.”
* * *
Nautical Lounge
10:57AM
“Jarod, so there you are,” Parker said, walking up to his table, her stelltos clicking on the teracotta tiles. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere. You’re dad thought you were over in the restaurant having coffee,” she said, eyeing the glass of beer in his hand, and partly empty pitcher on the table.
“Parker, please just leave me alone,” Jarod said quietly, running a hand over his tired eyes.
“No, not when you’re like this, Jarod,” Miss Parker said, pulling out a seat and sitting down. “Don’t do this to yourself,” she said watching him down his drink and pour another. “You’re only going to make matters worse.”
“Worse?” he breathed, with an outraged look on his face. He started to say something else, but then fell silent, spinning his coaster, hoping she’d leave.
A deafening silence fell between them, as he continuted to drink, completely ignoring her, as if she weren’t there.
“Your dad said, you have an appointment to see Sydney this afternoon. You won’t get much out of it if you’re drunk.”
Jarod looked up at her with a sick smile on his face and shook his head. “I’m not going. It would just be another pointless exercise in futility,” he said, upending his drink, feeling the alcohol finally kicking in and starting to find talking to Parker slightly amusing. “You know, you sure are persistant. I expected you to leave by now,” he said, pouring another drink and asking her if she wanted one.
“I don’t think so, Jarod. Why don’t you come with me up to my room, and we can visit some more there. Or, we could go out on the terrace and have lunch, if you’d rather.”
“Are you hungry? Have a pretzle,” he said, shoving the bowl her way, giving her a look that told her he knew exactly what she was trying to do.
“I’ve got to go, Parker. See you around,” he said, tossing a ten dollar bill on the table, as he started to get up to leave.
“Wait a minute, Jarod…”
“No, you wait a minute. I’m fed up to here with everyone trying to help me. It’s pointless, and I’m not playing that game anymore.”
“So you’re just going to drink yourself to death? I’m not buying it, Jarod. Somewhere inside you is a guy who doesn’t want to give up; would never give up.”
Just then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Major Charles walk through the front door of the bar, and guessed by his expression that the sparks were going to fly.
“Jarod, Parker, when you didn’t come back, I got worried so I called around and they said you were here,” he said, noticing the glass and empty pitcher on the table. “My God, Jarod, how on earth can you be drinking again when you were sicker then a dog this morning? What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Actually, I was just leaving,” he said, getting up, after downing the last of his beer.
“Well, you’ve got that one right, Jarod. You’re going back with me to your room and have some strong black coffee. And then you are going to rest until your session this afternoon with Sydney. I’ll be damned if I’m going to allow you to become a full blown alcoholic by the time your sister and mother get here this weekend.”
“What are you talking about? They found mom and Emily?” he asked, having trouble following him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I already told you that last night. If you hadn’t been so drunk, maybe it would have registered.”
“I don’t know what to say,” he said, holding on to the back of his chair to keep from weaving, feeling totally paniked at the thought of them seeing him this way.
“Good, because I don’t want to hear anymore out of you until you can talk to me, without slurring your words. Let’s go,” the Major said, grabbing his arm, to help steer him out of the bar.
“I don’t need any help,” he said, shrugging off his dad’s hand. “I can walk just fine,” Jarod slurred, starting off on his own and bumping into a chair at the next table, tipping it over.
“Damnit, Jarod, you’re making a scene. You’re going to let me help you out of here and don't you say another word,” he said totally exasperated, picking up the chair, and then managing to steer his son out of the bar and back to their room, with major difficulty.
* * *
Marquee Hotel
Room 629b
2:30 PM
“Jarod, Broots and Dr. Meisser are here to give you a ride over to the hospital to see Sydney. Are you going to make it?”
Jarod didn’t say anything, but instead averted eye contact with his dad, as he struggled to put his shoes on.
“You’re shaking pretty badly, son. Why don’t you let me help you with those?”
“No, I’ve got it.” *
****
Moments later…
“H h hi, Jarod. Um, long time no see,” Broots said, nervously clearing his throat, as he watched him stagger into the room.
Jarod glanced at him and then at Dr. Meisser, before mumbling hi.
“Well, ok let’s go. I have the car parked downstairs right in front. We’ll see you after a little while, Major, Gemini,” the agent said, noticing Jarod reeked with alcohol and hoping he would cooperate so they could give him some help.
* * *
St. Matthews Memorial Hospital
3:00 PM
Room 511
“Jarod, come on in. I must admit, this is rather unorthodox, but it was easier for me to have you come here for right now,” Sydney said, his eyes growing wide for a second as he watched the pretender nearly trip over his own feet as he entered the room.
“Jarod, we’ll be down the hall in the waiting room. Just take your time. There’s a ball game on this afternoon, we were both wanting to see,” the doctor said, trying to be up beat.
“Sure,” he mumbled, looking at the floor, has arms wrapped tightly around himself.
“Go ahead and have a seat, Jarod,” Sydney said, noticing he was wobbly on his feet and had the distinct odor of a distillery.
“I’m so sorry, Jarod. I can not fathom the distress you must be feeling, that would drive you, of all people, to resort to alcohol. How much have you had to drink today?” he asked, hoping he could establish a dialogue with him, fully aware that the pretender had refused to come earlier.
“It doesn’t matter,” he mumbled, closing his eyes, as a wave of dizzyness washed over him.
“It does matter; you matter. One way or another, I’m going to get you out of this. You can’t give up now. You’ve got to start fighting again.”
“I don’t feel so good,” Jarod said, suddenly getting up and stumbling to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.
Stricken by the depths his patient had sunk, Sydney paged a nurse, asking her to bring an antinausia shot for Jarod, and an orderly to assist the indisposed young man.
***
Something later…
“If you’re feeling well enough to continue, I would like to try hypnotising you. I am convinced that’s where the problem and answer lies.”
“After talking to Gemini this morning, I arrived at the conclusion that it is possible that Raines gave you a post hypnotic suggestion, which may be interfearing with your recovery. Are you willing to do that with me?”
The pretender closed his eyes and shook his head slightly.”I don’t care. That will be fine.”
“Ok, Jarod. It would be better if you hadn’t been drinking, but I think we can still do this,” he said, wheeling up close to him, asking him to relax, close his eyes, and concentrate, as he started counting backwards.
* * *
5th Floor waiting room
5:03 PM
“Dr. Meisser? Dr. Green wants to talk with you for a moment,” a nurse said, walking over to the two of them.
“Yes, thank you, nurse. Broots I’ll be right back.
* * *
Room 511
“Sydney, where’s Jarod?”
“I had him admitted for observation for a few days. He became quiet ill during our session, but we managed to get some things done. He offered little resistance when they took him to his room, though it’s possible that may change when he sobers up. It’s possible he may need to be put back on an antidepressant if it’s warrented, but I can’t do that until he quits drinking.”
“I can well imagine him getting sick. I wasn’t even sure if he’d make it over here in the car. How did his session go otherwise?”
“Fruitful in an important area. After using hypnosis, I was able to assertain that Raines did give him a post hypnotic suggestion, that instructed him to self-destruct, if he were rescued. I imagine, that was so Raines and the Centre would not be implicated for what they did to him. It’s amazing how Jarod was able to over ride those thoughts as long as he did, but that bastard nearly succeeded, from what I observed today. I believe I was able to nullify that command and give Jarod back control of his mind. Let’s just hope he’s not too far gone to fight this thing.”
“I tried to talk to him afterward, but he was extremely confused and depressed, and we didn’t get very far with that. He appeared to be slipping back into clinical depression, but I couldn’t make a diagnosis for sure. It’s hard to tell how much of his depression was percipitated by the alcohol. He really was quite intoxicated.
You might encourage people to come and visit him, maybe starting tomorrow. He’ll be in room 412. If you’ll excuse me, I need to call his father and let him know what’s going on.”
“Thank you, Sydney. It amazes me how you and Gemini figured that out.”
“Well, you see Jarod is a pretender. He has always been able to deal successfully with the post-tramatic events of his past. In fact, his survival skills are really off the scale. I have been at a loss for sometime now at his total inability to make any headway in dealing with what was done to him when he was recaptured and what happened subsequentially.”
“When I found out the hallucinogen drug was still actively affecting him, I thought it’s neutralization would allow him to begin to deal with his trama with a clear head. Of course, as we all know, that just didn’t happen. His multiple flash backs have virtually decimated him.”
“With the outrageous pain and subconsious messages he’s been bombarded with, no wonder he feels like he’s at the end of his rope. I don’t know how it’ll go for him now, we’ll just have to see. I pray to God he’ll fight now.”
“Me too. Well, I better take Broots back to the hotel, now. I’ll be available to bring the Major by when ever he’s ready.
* * *
The Marquee Hotel
6th floor hallway
5:40 PM
“Miss Parker,” Broots said with a big smile, grateful he had finally bumped into her. He had been wondering how she was holding up, considering her father was incarcerated and would probably go to prison for the rest of his life.
“Ha have you had dinner ye yet? I was just thinking that if you were eating alone, I mean, not th that you would ever ha have to be alone, I mean, unless you wanted to…”
“Broots! Spit it out.”
“Ok,” he said, getting a little bolder,” Would you like to go down stairs and get something to eat. I mean, we both have to eat and…”
“That’s fine, Broots, I wanted to talk to you anyway.”
“You did um do? I ..I mean, great,” he said following her over to the elevator, hoping his stomach wouldn’t growl on the way down.
* * *
The Red Snapper Restaurant
1st floor Marquee Hotel
6:06 PM
“Miss Parker, if you don’t mind my bringing it up, how are you really doing, I mean with your dad and the Centre and everything?”
“You know, Broots, I don’t feel anything,” she said, pushing a crouton around in her bowl. Nothing.”
“Ma maybe, you’re just not ready to deal with it yet.”
“Watch it, Broots. You’re starting to sound like Dr. Freud. By the way, how is Sydney doing? He looked awfully tired last night.”
“Who wouldn’t after getting shot in the side and then having to deal with Jarod.”
The waitress arrived with their entrees; the fried shrimp platter for Broots, and a petite poached fillet for Miss Parker.
“How did things go with Jarod this afternoon? Did he end up going to his session,” she asked, haunted by the scene in the bar.
Broots looked at Parker, seeing the pain and concern in her eyes, confirming what he had suspected, that she came because she wanted to know about Jarod.
“He um, we took him over to see Sydney, but um, he was basically drunk. Miss Parker, Sydney found out he had been given some kind of subconcious message to um self distruct or something if he gave any information against Raines, Lyle, or the Centre.”
“What?”
“I don’t know, it was, I really don’t know if I got it right. It was something like that. Anyway, Sydney had Jarod admitted to the hospital for substance abuse intervention and detox. He’s um, in room 412 over there.”
“My God, Broots,” Miss Parker said, closing her eyes.
“No, no, Miss Parker, this is a good thing. Sydney thinks Jarod may recover quickly, if he is willing to stay sober and give it one more shot. You know, if he’s willing to fight.”
“He was so depressed when I saw him. Can he have visitors? I’m going up there.”
“Dr. Meisser said, not tonight. I guess Jarod was sicker than a dog when he was admitted, and probably wouldn’t feel like having visitors until tomorrow.”
“Is everything all right?” their waitress asked, stepping up to their table, and giving Broots a flirtatious smile.
“Oh, um, Miss Parker?”
“Just fine, but would you please get me a vodka on the rocks?”
“Certainly, and you, sir?”
“I would like another rootbeer, if it’s not too much trouble,” he said, with a toothy smile.
“Oh, sir, no trouble at all.”
“Well, Broots, I think you have someone interested in you.”
“You think?” Broots asked, craning his neck to get another look at the waitress as she walked off.
* * *
St. Matthews Memorial Hospital
Room 412
8:04 PM
Major Charle watched his son sleep restlessly, while Gemini switched the chanel to a movie.
Jarod had watched a game show with his brother earlier and seemed to actually be enjoying trying to beat his evenly matched opponent, despite the fact that he still felt very ill. He didn’t want to talk about what was going on at all and had finally fallen asleep after having understandably refused to eat dinner. Major Charles prayed that the hope of seeing his mother and sister might help him want to continue to fight to overcome what before now had been insurmountable illness. He thought he sensed something different about his son tonight, but couldn’t quite put his finger on it. He just seemed more at peace with himself.
Feedback greatly appreciated and helpful
No one can endure horrendous pain without seeking some form of relief, if the pain is unbearable for too long a time. Not even a pretender. In Jarod’s case though, he wasn’t seeking it, but it found him. 10-14-2000
Part 26
by jojarod50
The Marquee Hotel
Room 629
10:16 PM Saturday night
“Gemini, would you please go get us some ice?”
“This is about Jarod isn’t it?”
“Just do what I say,” the Major said irritably, before catching himself. “I’m sorry, it’s late and I’m just getting tired,” he said smiling, and handing him the bucket.
“Sure, dad,” Gemini said, knowing from the phone call he’d overheard, that they were bringing Jarod down and that he was drunk.
*
Moments later…
“Go ahead and put him in the adjoining room. God knows, I don’t want Gemini to see this,” he said, watching Broots and Joe half dragging his drunken son into the other room.
*
5 minutes later…
“Major Charles, I was unable to give Jarod his final shot because of his alcohol level. If it’s not imposing too much, I need to give it to him…. What time is it now… at 6:00 AM? I’ve arranged for Dr. Green to start working with him tomorrow afternoon, if you’ll sanction it. He also wants to see Gemini at 10:00am for a consultation. This is a very serious development. If Jarod continues to drink, it will dimish his chances of getting well anytime soon.”
“Any time soon? Don’t you think I know that? Dr. Meisser, Agent, or who ever the hell you are. Damn you all to hell.My son’s been in excruciating pain for weeks and no one has helped him apprecibly at all. I’m sick to death of you people reasuring me that you know what to do for him. I’m going to loose him if someone doesn’t kick in with some real help soon. You told me my wife and my daughter are arriving on Friday. This will kill his mother to see him like this. Excuse me; let yourself out the door. I need to see to my son,” he said abruptly leaving the room, wastebasket in hand.
***
Ajoining room 629b
10:29 PM
“Jarod, you may need to use this wastebasket. It’s right down here by your bed,” the Major said, while taking his son’s shirt, dress pants, and shoes off and setting them aside.
“ Uummm…dizzy.”
“Welcome to drinking 101, Jarod,” he said looking down at the poor kid.
“Sss..sick.”
“I’m not surprised,” his dad said, puttting a cool cloth on Jarod’s forhead. “Just try to lay still and maybe you won’t…”
Jarod leaned over the bed suddenly and his dad barely got the wastebasket to him in time.
After a few moments…
“ss… sorry…” he slurred.
“I know, Jarod, just try to relax, I’m sorry, too. Dr. Meisser will be by at 6:00 AM to give you the 9:00 shot that you missed . Jarod, you’re going to have to pull yourself together. You’re mom and sister will probably be here on Friday or Saturday. You’ve got to leave the alcohol alone. I had a best friend that destroyed himself with it, and I’ll be damned if I’ll stand by and have that happen to you.”
Jarod moaned groping for the trashcan and threw up again before developing the dry heaves. That went on for about 5 minutes before he finally passed out.
The Major waited quite a while to see if he was going to be ill any more. Then pulling the covers over Jarod’s shoulders, he retrieved the waistbasket and left him alone to sleep it off.
* * *
The Marquee Hotel
Room 626b
6:00 AM Sunday
“Jarod, wake up. Dr. Meisser is here to give you your shot,” Major Charles said, entering the other room and shaking his son slightly.
“Dad? What’s going on?” Jarod asked urgently, sitting up slightly, experiencing a horrible headache, his heart pouding wildly in his chest. He was vaguly aware of what he’d done last night, and felt horribly nausious and ashamed.
“Jarod, I’m sorry I was detained getting to the the dinner party, but by the time I got there, I didn’t dare give you your shot with all the alcohol in your system,” Meisser said, giving Jarod a serious look. “I don’t think getting it now will effect your recovery, at least on this front, but I need to talk with you about what happened last night.”
Jarod fell back against his pillows, the room slightly spinning, still tasting the alcohol in his mouth.
“Go away.”
“I can’t do that, Jarod. You have to have your shot now or it’s not going to do you any good. This is your last one, remember?” he asked, as he tapped the bubbles out and wiping Jarod’s arm with an alcohol swab.
”The defeated young man lay still with his eyes shut, feeling the needle pierce his arm and wishing he had never taken a drink. He felt angry with himself and totally out of control, but the funny thing was, there was an increasing part of him that just didn’t care any more.
“Jarod, your family is very worried about you. This afternoon, I’d like to have Sydney give you some counseling. I think that he, more than anyone, can help you. And with your brother....”
He turned his head away, bitterly hating what he had become. He remembered a time when he would taunt Parker and dance around the sweepers, all the while helping some helpless victim regain their life. Now he was the victim and couldn’t find any way out.
“Ok, why don’t you just think about it. I’ll call back later to see what you ‘ve decided. Jarod, you’re going to need counseling any way you look at it. If you don’t want Sydney, I’m sure we could find someone else.”
Needing the darkness, Jarod rolled over on his side facing the wall and tried to go back to sleep, wishing he hadn’t survived Lyle’s last attack.
* * *
Room 629b
8:23 AM
Jarod staggered into the bathroom, nausiated by the smell of breakfast coming from the other room. Even the sound of the water running in the shower was almost too much to bear.
Waves of depression poured over him, as he fought to keep thoughts of the beer and champagne out of his mind. He had felt indiscribably happy last night and he was craving that relief again.
As the hot water sprayed on his soapy body, he leaned against the tile wall and cried bitterly, feeling like it was pointless to fight his illness anymore.
After getting dressed, he still felt so ill, he laid back down for a couple of hours more.
* * *
Room 629
10:55 AM
“I’m sorry, Miss Parker, Jarod left about 20 minutes ago. He said something about wanting to get a couple of newspapers and some coffee in the restaurant down stairs.
“How was he doing, Major?”
“Not good at all. I don’t ever remember seeing him quiet like this. He has an appointment with Sydney this afternoon, but he already said he wasn’t going to go. Miss Parker, I think he could use a friend right now. I was just going to go down stairs to check on him, but if you wouldn’t mind...”
“I’ll leave right away. I’m worried about Jarod, too. This just isn’t like him.”
“Thank you. I’ve seen how my son looks at you.. He cares very deeply about you. Maybe you can help him find the will to fight this. I think he’s given up.”
* * *
Nautical Lounge
10:57AM
“Jarod, so there you are,” Parker said, walking up to his table, her stelltos clicking on the teracotta tiles. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere. You’re dad thought you were over in the restaurant having coffee,” she said, eyeing the glass of beer in his hand, and partly empty pitcher on the table.
“Parker, please just leave me alone,” Jarod said quietly, running a hand over his tired eyes.
“No, not when you’re like this, Jarod,” Miss Parker said, pulling out a seat and sitting down. “Don’t do this to yourself,” she said watching him down his drink and pour another. “You’re only going to make matters worse.”
“Worse?” he breathed, with an outraged look on his face. He started to say something else, but then fell silent, spinning his coaster, hoping she’d leave.
A deafening silence fell between them, as he continuted to drink, completely ignoring her, as if she weren’t there.
“Your dad said, you have an appointment to see Sydney this afternoon. You won’t get much out of it if you’re drunk.”
Jarod looked up at her with a sick smile on his face and shook his head. “I’m not going. It would just be another pointless exercise in futility,” he said, upending his drink, feeling the alcohol finally kicking in and starting to find talking to Parker slightly amusing. “You know, you sure are persistant. I expected you to leave by now,” he said, pouring another drink and asking her if she wanted one.
“I don’t think so, Jarod. Why don’t you come with me up to my room, and we can visit some more there. Or, we could go out on the terrace and have lunch, if you’d rather.”
“Are you hungry? Have a pretzle,” he said, shoving the bowl her way, giving her a look that told her he knew exactly what she was trying to do.
“I’ve got to go, Parker. See you around,” he said, tossing a ten dollar bill on the table, as he started to get up to leave.
“Wait a minute, Jarod…”
“No, you wait a minute. I’m fed up to here with everyone trying to help me. It’s pointless, and I’m not playing that game anymore.”
“So you’re just going to drink yourself to death? I’m not buying it, Jarod. Somewhere inside you is a guy who doesn’t want to give up; would never give up.”
Just then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Major Charles walk through the front door of the bar, and guessed by his expression that the sparks were going to fly.
“Jarod, Parker, when you didn’t come back, I got worried so I called around and they said you were here,” he said, noticing the glass and empty pitcher on the table. “My God, Jarod, how on earth can you be drinking again when you were sicker then a dog this morning? What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Actually, I was just leaving,” he said, getting up, after downing the last of his beer.
“Well, you’ve got that one right, Jarod. You’re going back with me to your room and have some strong black coffee. And then you are going to rest until your session this afternoon with Sydney. I’ll be damned if I’m going to allow you to become a full blown alcoholic by the time your sister and mother get here this weekend.”
“What are you talking about? They found mom and Emily?” he asked, having trouble following him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I already told you that last night. If you hadn’t been so drunk, maybe it would have registered.”
“I don’t know what to say,” he said, holding on to the back of his chair to keep from weaving, feeling totally paniked at the thought of them seeing him this way.
“Good, because I don’t want to hear anymore out of you until you can talk to me, without slurring your words. Let’s go,” the Major said, grabbing his arm, to help steer him out of the bar.
“I don’t need any help,” he said, shrugging off his dad’s hand. “I can walk just fine,” Jarod slurred, starting off on his own and bumping into a chair at the next table, tipping it over.
“Damnit, Jarod, you’re making a scene. You’re going to let me help you out of here and don't you say another word,” he said totally exasperated, picking up the chair, and then managing to steer his son out of the bar and back to their room, with major difficulty.
* * *
Marquee Hotel
Room 629b
2:30 PM
“Jarod, Broots and Dr. Meisser are here to give you a ride over to the hospital to see Sydney. Are you going to make it?”
Jarod didn’t say anything, but instead averted eye contact with his dad, as he struggled to put his shoes on.
“You’re shaking pretty badly, son. Why don’t you let me help you with those?”
“No, I’ve got it.” *
****
Moments later…
“H h hi, Jarod. Um, long time no see,” Broots said, nervously clearing his throat, as he watched him stagger into the room.
Jarod glanced at him and then at Dr. Meisser, before mumbling hi.
“Well, ok let’s go. I have the car parked downstairs right in front. We’ll see you after a little while, Major, Gemini,” the agent said, noticing Jarod reeked with alcohol and hoping he would cooperate so they could give him some help.
* * *
St. Matthews Memorial Hospital
3:00 PM
Room 511
“Jarod, come on in. I must admit, this is rather unorthodox, but it was easier for me to have you come here for right now,” Sydney said, his eyes growing wide for a second as he watched the pretender nearly trip over his own feet as he entered the room.
“Jarod, we’ll be down the hall in the waiting room. Just take your time. There’s a ball game on this afternoon, we were both wanting to see,” the doctor said, trying to be up beat.
“Sure,” he mumbled, looking at the floor, has arms wrapped tightly around himself.
“Go ahead and have a seat, Jarod,” Sydney said, noticing he was wobbly on his feet and had the distinct odor of a distillery.
“I’m so sorry, Jarod. I can not fathom the distress you must be feeling, that would drive you, of all people, to resort to alcohol. How much have you had to drink today?” he asked, hoping he could establish a dialogue with him, fully aware that the pretender had refused to come earlier.
“It doesn’t matter,” he mumbled, closing his eyes, as a wave of dizzyness washed over him.
“It does matter; you matter. One way or another, I’m going to get you out of this. You can’t give up now. You’ve got to start fighting again.”
“I don’t feel so good,” Jarod said, suddenly getting up and stumbling to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.
Stricken by the depths his patient had sunk, Sydney paged a nurse, asking her to bring an antinausia shot for Jarod, and an orderly to assist the indisposed young man.
***
Something later…
“If you’re feeling well enough to continue, I would like to try hypnotising you. I am convinced that’s where the problem and answer lies.”
“After talking to Gemini this morning, I arrived at the conclusion that it is possible that Raines gave you a post hypnotic suggestion, which may be interfearing with your recovery. Are you willing to do that with me?”
The pretender closed his eyes and shook his head slightly.”I don’t care. That will be fine.”
“Ok, Jarod. It would be better if you hadn’t been drinking, but I think we can still do this,” he said, wheeling up close to him, asking him to relax, close his eyes, and concentrate, as he started counting backwards.
* * *
5th Floor waiting room
5:03 PM
“Dr. Meisser? Dr. Green wants to talk with you for a moment,” a nurse said, walking over to the two of them.
“Yes, thank you, nurse. Broots I’ll be right back.
* * *
Room 511
“Sydney, where’s Jarod?”
“I had him admitted for observation for a few days. He became quiet ill during our session, but we managed to get some things done. He offered little resistance when they took him to his room, though it’s possible that may change when he sobers up. It’s possible he may need to be put back on an antidepressant if it’s warrented, but I can’t do that until he quits drinking.”
“I can well imagine him getting sick. I wasn’t even sure if he’d make it over here in the car. How did his session go otherwise?”
“Fruitful in an important area. After using hypnosis, I was able to assertain that Raines did give him a post hypnotic suggestion, that instructed him to self-destruct, if he were rescued. I imagine, that was so Raines and the Centre would not be implicated for what they did to him. It’s amazing how Jarod was able to over ride those thoughts as long as he did, but that bastard nearly succeeded, from what I observed today. I believe I was able to nullify that command and give Jarod back control of his mind. Let’s just hope he’s not too far gone to fight this thing.”
“I tried to talk to him afterward, but he was extremely confused and depressed, and we didn’t get very far with that. He appeared to be slipping back into clinical depression, but I couldn’t make a diagnosis for sure. It’s hard to tell how much of his depression was percipitated by the alcohol. He really was quite intoxicated.
You might encourage people to come and visit him, maybe starting tomorrow. He’ll be in room 412. If you’ll excuse me, I need to call his father and let him know what’s going on.”
“Thank you, Sydney. It amazes me how you and Gemini figured that out.”
“Well, you see Jarod is a pretender. He has always been able to deal successfully with the post-tramatic events of his past. In fact, his survival skills are really off the scale. I have been at a loss for sometime now at his total inability to make any headway in dealing with what was done to him when he was recaptured and what happened subsequentially.”
“When I found out the hallucinogen drug was still actively affecting him, I thought it’s neutralization would allow him to begin to deal with his trama with a clear head. Of course, as we all know, that just didn’t happen. His multiple flash backs have virtually decimated him.”
“With the outrageous pain and subconsious messages he’s been bombarded with, no wonder he feels like he’s at the end of his rope. I don’t know how it’ll go for him now, we’ll just have to see. I pray to God he’ll fight now.”
“Me too. Well, I better take Broots back to the hotel, now. I’ll be available to bring the Major by when ever he’s ready.
* * *
The Marquee Hotel
6th floor hallway
5:40 PM
“Miss Parker,” Broots said with a big smile, grateful he had finally bumped into her. He had been wondering how she was holding up, considering her father was incarcerated and would probably go to prison for the rest of his life.
“Ha have you had dinner ye yet? I was just thinking that if you were eating alone, I mean, not th that you would ever ha have to be alone, I mean, unless you wanted to…”
“Broots! Spit it out.”
“Ok,” he said, getting a little bolder,” Would you like to go down stairs and get something to eat. I mean, we both have to eat and…”
“That’s fine, Broots, I wanted to talk to you anyway.”
“You did um do? I ..I mean, great,” he said following her over to the elevator, hoping his stomach wouldn’t growl on the way down.
* * *
The Red Snapper Restaurant
1st floor Marquee Hotel
6:06 PM
“Miss Parker, if you don’t mind my bringing it up, how are you really doing, I mean with your dad and the Centre and everything?”
“You know, Broots, I don’t feel anything,” she said, pushing a crouton around in her bowl. Nothing.”
“Ma maybe, you’re just not ready to deal with it yet.”
“Watch it, Broots. You’re starting to sound like Dr. Freud. By the way, how is Sydney doing? He looked awfully tired last night.”
“Who wouldn’t after getting shot in the side and then having to deal with Jarod.”
The waitress arrived with their entrees; the fried shrimp platter for Broots, and a petite poached fillet for Miss Parker.
“How did things go with Jarod this afternoon? Did he end up going to his session,” she asked, haunted by the scene in the bar.
Broots looked at Parker, seeing the pain and concern in her eyes, confirming what he had suspected, that she came because she wanted to know about Jarod.
“He um, we took him over to see Sydney, but um, he was basically drunk. Miss Parker, Sydney found out he had been given some kind of subconcious message to um self distruct or something if he gave any information against Raines, Lyle, or the Centre.”
“What?”
“I don’t know, it was, I really don’t know if I got it right. It was something like that. Anyway, Sydney had Jarod admitted to the hospital for substance abuse intervention and detox. He’s um, in room 412 over there.”
“My God, Broots,” Miss Parker said, closing her eyes.
“No, no, Miss Parker, this is a good thing. Sydney thinks Jarod may recover quickly, if he is willing to stay sober and give it one more shot. You know, if he’s willing to fight.”
“He was so depressed when I saw him. Can he have visitors? I’m going up there.”
“Dr. Meisser said, not tonight. I guess Jarod was sicker than a dog when he was admitted, and probably wouldn’t feel like having visitors until tomorrow.”
“Is everything all right?” their waitress asked, stepping up to their table, and giving Broots a flirtatious smile.
“Oh, um, Miss Parker?”
“Just fine, but would you please get me a vodka on the rocks?”
“Certainly, and you, sir?”
“I would like another rootbeer, if it’s not too much trouble,” he said, with a toothy smile.
“Oh, sir, no trouble at all.”
“Well, Broots, I think you have someone interested in you.”
“You think?” Broots asked, craning his neck to get another look at the waitress as she walked off.
* * *
St. Matthews Memorial Hospital
Room 412
8:04 PM
Major Charle watched his son sleep restlessly, while Gemini switched the chanel to a movie.
Jarod had watched a game show with his brother earlier and seemed to actually be enjoying trying to beat his evenly matched opponent, despite the fact that he still felt very ill. He didn’t want to talk about what was going on at all and had finally fallen asleep after having understandably refused to eat dinner. Major Charles prayed that the hope of seeing his mother and sister might help him want to continue to fight to overcome what before now had been insurmountable illness. He thought he sensed something different about his son tonight, but couldn’t quite put his finger on it. He just seemed more at peace with himself.
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