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I don’t own the characters of the Pretender or 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 this free advertising for your show and please don’t sue me.

“ I think everybody has a compulsion to grow and to be whole. I think everybody has a compulsion to seek relief from pain; to make the decision to seek healing.”

One has to face the demons from his past, before he can have power over them. 12/16/00



In Pursuit Of Happiness
Part 28
by jojarod50




St. Matthews Memorial Hospital
Substance Abuse Recovery Wing
Room 412
10:35 PM

Jarod’s eyes were riveted to the screen, as he watched the last part of “The Great Escape”, completely mesmerized by the saga of the soldiers’ valiant attempts to escape despite the overwhelming odds of recapture or death at the hands of the Nazis.

He had forgotten his earlier concern about his fragmented memories and especially his flashbacks, which he feared threatened to undermine his hope for a lasting relationship with Parker and the healing, he was starting to experience. He had been extremely disappointed he had had one while he had been with Parker, but now it was the furthest thing on his mind.

Yawning heavily, he switched off the TV, and slipped under the covers, comforted by the thought that he was no longer running for his life. He decided that he was ready to be back with his family, and would approach Sydney about it when he came around in the morning. Feeling unusually relaxed, he drifted off to sleep.

* * *



Jarod’s hospital room
12:50 AM

The pretender felt increasingly irritated with the dealer as he watched him slowly shuffled the cards, pausing to take another drag on his stogie before purposely blowing smoke in his face. Choking on the smoke, Jarod reached for the strange tasting drink he’d been served and grimaced as he took a large gulp of the vile liquid feeling slightly nauseous. Rubbing his bloodshot eyes, he intently watched as each card was lined up in front of him.

“This is the last hand, buddy. You win it; you’ll get your freedom. Otherwise, well you know the rules.”

Sweeping the cards into a little pile, Jarod picked them up and started arranging them in his hand, another wave of nausea washing over him. As he focused on the cards, they mutated into horrifying glossy photos of his brutal torture at the Centre. Looking up at the dealer, completely outraged, he was shocked to see Lyle sitting in his place.

Quickly throwing the cards on the floor, he tried to make a run for it, but suddenly realized he was tightly strapped into his chair. Another wave of nausea and dizziness hit him hard, as he felt the sting of a needle entering his arm. Screaming in terror he struggled in vain to free himself before passing out.

*

“Mr. Charles, are you all right? I heard you screaming from out in the hall,” the night nurse urged, training her flash light his way as she entered the dark room.

In the dim light she could see the pretender frantically trying to untangle himself from his sheets, gasping for breath.

Whipping the sheet back forcibly, Jarod scrambled to his feet and distanced himself from the bed, totally unaware that anyone else was in the room.

“Mr. Charles, can you hear me?” the nurse asked flipping on the ceiling light, hoping that would grab his attention.

Jarod spun around and looked at the uniformed nurse, finally realizing where he was. Blushing fiercely, he took a deep breath as she repeated her question again.

“I’m fine,” he offered with a slight smile, still trying to calm himself down.

“If you’d like to speak with one of the doctors…”

“No that won’t be necessary,” he said hurriedly, as she started to reach for the call button.

“I’d rather just go back to bed,” he said eyeing her nervously.

“All right, Mr. Charles, try to get some rest. If you have trouble getting back to sleep, I’m sure the doctor will prescribe something for you.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said bitterly, as he turned his back on her and started for the bed hoping she would take the hint and leave.

Tossing and turning for what seemed like an eternity, he was only partially successful in stopping the frightening pictures from running through his mind. Around 2:00 AM, he fell into a deep sleep, his extreme exhaustion finally over riding everything else.

* * *

Room 412
2:45 AM

“Oh no you don’t Jarod, “Lyle growled, grabbing the unconscious man’s tattered shirt and shaking him impatiently. “There’s no way you’ll be allowed to sleep through this,” he said, groping for a syringe and injecting him with another dose of a short life stimulant.

The unconscious man surfaced slower this time, attempting to focus on the voice in front of him as he felt his shirt being ripped opened.

“Jarod, just tell us where your father and the boy went and I’ll forget about the DSAs for right now.”

“Go to hell,” he breathed, becoming aware that the back of the oversized lab chair had been lowered and he was now lying flat on his back.

“Ah, you look confused, Jarod. We need you lying down for a little while. I’m warning you, things are going to be getting incrementally worse for you from here on out. You might as well give in now. We’re not going to stop until you talk,” the sociopath said, with a smug smile as he took his lit candle and dropped pools of melted wax at 2” intervals down the pretender’s left side.

“Painful, isn’t it?” he said, eyeing the bound man’s reaction to each move of his hand. “Now tell me where your father and the boy are.”

Jarod maintained a semblance of control saying nothing, his defiant eyes never leaving his questioner’s face.

“Ok. Have it you way,” he said, lighting the first pool of wax with a match and watching with satisfaction as his victim writhed in pain. “I know you, Jarod. You wouldn’t have tried to escape with your dad and the clone without a carefully planned destination. Just tell me where they went and we’ll end this now.”

Jarod’s eyes blazed with anger. “I’ll never let you get your hands on the boy or my father.”

“Use that big brain of yours, genius. You know what I’m capable of and no one’s around to stop me. I guarantee you’ll be begging to tell me, before I’m finished with you,” he pressed, lighting the next pool of wax, convinced the pretender would break momentarily. Lyle took a seat on a near by stool, relaxing, as Jarod let out a blood curdling scream, the stench of smoke and burning flesh filling the dimly lit room.

*

Jarod sat bolt upright in his bed, his hair damp and sweat trickling down his face. Shaking uncontrollably, a wave of nausea hit him sending him racing for the john.

After more or less recovering, he talked himself into lying back down, despite loathing having any more to do with his bed.

The room was eerily silent this time and he was left alone to his own thoughts. Having no desire to revisit his dreams, he focused entirely on slowing his breathing. In a surprisingly short amount of time he had fallen back into a troubled sleep, picking up the last nightmare where it had left off.

* * *

Room 412
3:32 AM

“I don’t have all night, Jarod,” Lyle warned, with a hint of frustration, as he lit another pool of wax, punishing him for not telling him at least where the DSAs were. Putrid smoke snaked into the air as the pretender screamed again, his voice becoming hoarse and getting weaker.

Beads of sweat formed on Lyle’s forehead, as he continued to question and torture his unyielding victim until he was on the verge of blacking out.

“Damn!” Lyle yelled, throwing the candle across the room. “Willie, get him back in a seated position,” Lyle ordered, totally exasperated that another attempt to get the information out of the pretender had failed.

Jarod broke into a cold sweat, momentarily confused, as he hurriedly looked from his dad to the others seated at an elegant dining room table in the large ballroom, trying to understand how he had gotten there from the Centre. It suddenly dawned on him that the smoke he smelled apparently was coming from candelabra in the center of the table, not Lyle’s cruel torture chamber. Downing his glass of champagne discreetly, he tried to distance himself from the apparent flashback, while pretending he was enjoying himself.

After a waiter replenished everyone’s drinks, Jarod offered a toast to his lovely counter part, Parker, who held one of his only fond memories from his tortured childhood.

“Jarod, you’re bleeding,” Parker said, suddenly rising from her seat, as the others at the table reacted with shock.

Looking down at his dress shirt, he was horrified, as he realized it was soaked with his own blood.

“I’m sorry,” he said, abruptly leaving the table and exiting through what he thought were the balcony doors.

Screaming in terror he fell into the dark void toward the street 12 stories below.

* * *

“Jarod, what happened? I heard you screaming from the break room,” the doctor asked quickly evaluating him, as he hurried into the room.

Totally disoriented and confused, the pretender bewilderedly looked from the young doctor to the nurse and orderly assembling near his bed. Realizing he had never left his hospital room, he quickly pulled himself together hoping they’d all go away.

“I believe I was having another nightmare. It’s over now. Please just leave me alone. I’m really exhausted,” Jarod said, easing himself back down on his pillow, abandoning all hope of getting any rest.

“Ok, Jarod, but if you want to talk about it, I’ll be available,” the young doctor offered, noticing that he seemed to be handling it very well.

Jarod gave him a polite nod, pleased that he had bought his act. Keeping up the front, he yawned and closed his eyes, indicating he was going back to sleep.

After he was sure he was alone, he rolled over on his back and stared out the partially opened blinds studying the stars visible against the black sky. He wondered how much of his dreams were a true memory and how much was his mind weaving dark tales. With renewed determination, he decided to approach Sydney in the morning about seeing the DSA of what happened to him the night he had been recaptured.

Slipping out of his bed, he went in the bathroom and threw cold water on his face, trying to feel a little more together. His nerves were screaming at him to calm down and his stomach was tied up in knots. Taking the plastic cup by the sink, he tried taking a drink of water, hoping to ward off the possibility of throwing up again. Pausing a few minutes, he made sure he felt stabilized, before leaving the bathroom and lying back down.

Refocusing on his nightmares, he deliberately explored them, having no intention of going back to sleep. He felt his only alternative to being driven insane was to finally break though his mental barriers and open an avenue to help him begin to come to terms with his past.

Lost in thought, he tried to visualize the graphic photos and brutal torture from his dreams to see if any of it connected some how to his fragmented memories. As he paired things up, more and more images of what actually happened to him suddenly flooded his mind and he was nearly overwhelmed with what he learned.

The feelings of intense fear and helplessness he had lived with for nearly 8 weeks were replaced with fury and rage he could barely contain.

Objects flew everywhere as his trembling hands swept across every piece of furniture in the room.

Mindlessly, he seized one of the chairs, swiftly hoisting it over his head and nearly throwing it out the large picture window before catching himself. Dropping it, he sank to the floor and wept bitterly, grieving for what he had lost.

After some time passed, he positioned one of the over stuffed chairs in front of the window and sat quietly staring out into the night.

* * *

St. Matthews Memorial Hospital
Conference Room 101
4:55 AM

“It’s about Jarod, Dr. Green. I believe he’s had some kind of breakdown.”

“My God, what do you mean? The last time I saw him, he was greatly improved.”

“According to one of the doctors, he’s had almost no sleep at all, because of disturbing night terrors. About 35 minutes ago, he apparently snapped.”

“Dear Lord. Did he mention anything about the contents of any of his nightmares to anyone, Dr. Evans?”

“No. He hasn’t allowed anyone to get near him, with the exception of when he asked for a pen and pad of paper. After he got those, he fell into a frenzy of writing, which seems to have calmed him down to some extent. Does he have a history of violent behavior?”

“Never. What are you getting at?” Sydney asked, with increasing alarm.

“According to one of the doctors, who had checked in on him about a half hour ago, he became hysterical and threatened to harm him, if he didn’t back off and leave him alone.”

“That doesn’t sound like Jarod. Has he actually hurt anyone?” Sydney asked with dread.

“No, we would have put him in restraints by now, if he’d tried anything. He did completely tear up his room a while ago, though. Since he’s displayed more benign behavior since then, it was decided not to sedate him, but security has been posted out side his room just in case.”

“Have you talked to him personally, Dr. Evans?” Sydney asked, realizing that only one thing he could think of could possibly set Jarod off this way. The psychiatrist had prayed this day would never come, though he knew it was inevitable.

“I checked in on him briefly, right before you got here, but the moment he saw me he marched into the bathroom and slammed the door. I have no idea what’s eating him, but one of us needs to talk him down.”

Sydney reached out for Jarod’s chart, ”I’m grateful you waited for me, Dr. Evans. I feel it would be best if I handle this myself, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all, Dr. Green. I was hoping you’d volunteer.”

* * *

Room 412
5:14 AM

Sydney entered Jarod’s room, immediately having trouble wheeling around the obstacle course of objects all over the floor. Catching his wheel in some sheets, it took him a moment to maneuver his chair out of the tangled mess.

Noticing a tray of untouched food upside down on the floor, he made a mental note to prescribe something to stimulate Jarod’s appetite. He had tried Jarod on one before, but he had been so unstable, that it had failed to produce significant results. He hoped that wouldn’t be the case now.

Crossing over to the chair facing the window, he spotted what looked like the edge of a pad of paper that had been stuffed under the cushion of the chair. Slipping it out quickly, he flipped though its pages hoping to get a glimpse of what was going on in his mind. Unfortunately, every page was written in the private code he had made up as a boy.

Realizing Jarod had just finished a shower, he replaced the pad quickly and positioned his wheel chair, what he thought would be, a comfortable distance from where the younger man apparently liked to sit.

A few minutes later, Jarod came into the room dressed in his black clothes, towel drying his hair. Spotting Sydney, he exhaled in frustration and gave him a knowing look.

“Sydney, what a surprise,” he said sarcastically, tossing the wet towel angrily aside.

“It appears that you’ve redecorated your room,” he said glancing around at the mess. Tell me what’s going on, Jarod,” he asked, feeling a twinge of pain as he remembered how upbeat he had been last night.

“I don’t need to be here anymore. I want you to sign for my release, so I can be with my family,” he said, his voice cracking, as he met his eyes directly.

Sydney studies the young man before him, feeling deep sadness, as he realized what he had suspected was probably true.

“You’ve remembered what Lyle and Raines did to you, haven’t you.”

“That doesn’t matter. I need to be with my family,” he said more urgently. “I can’t bare to be locked up here any more.”

“I can understand that, Jarod,” Sydney offered, weighing his emotional needs with what he might choose to do after his release.

“Jarod, I need for you to be completely honest with me. Are you still craving alcohol or any other form of escape?”

“No, Sydney. I’m passed that now,” he said, nervously eyeing the other man.

“Why don’t we have a talk about what happened to you last night, and I’ll see,” Sydney said gently, motioning for him to sit down. “It’s very important that you successfully connect your terror, pain, and rage directly to what was done to you so you can begin the work of separating those emotions from your present reality. It may take some time and it’s going to be painful, but ultimately you will be empowered to find the joy of living again.

Jarod sat down slowly in the chair facing the window, staring out into the fading night. After being silent for a good half an hour, he was somewhat willing to talk.”

* * *

Dr. Evans Office
1:30 PM

“He’ll need a lot of love and support, but Major Charles to answer your question, he’s remarkably stable and upbeat, despite what he’s been through in the last 13 hours. He said he felt like the door of his cage had been opened allowing him to fly. From what Dr. Evans and I have observed, we concur that he’s already successfully begun the healing process and is doing quite well. I want you to make sure that he takes this medication three times a day, about 30 minutes before meals. It should increase his appetite and help him put some weight on. I expect he’ll want to get some sleep when he gets home, but make sure that he eats something substantial when he wakes up.

Encourage him to get out and do things that are fun. It may be difficult for him at first, as he might have a tendency to withdrawal. You might take him to a movie or shopping. Just eating out would be a good idea, but try to avoid places that also serve alcohol.
If he doesn’t start taking better care of himself, help him to become aware of that and encourage him to nurture himself. That’s a very important part of the healing process.”

“I don’t know how to thank you, Sydney. I was losing hope that Jarod would ever pull out of this.”

“I know that, Major. This whole ordeal has been extremely difficult, not only for Jarod, but also the rest of us. The good news is I’m sure Jarod is recovering now. Though the discovery phase has been very traumatic for him, it was the best thing that’s happened in his favor so far.”

“Have you been informed yet, about when the rest of your family will be arriving?”

Major Charles broke into a big smile at just the mention of his wife and daughter.

“Yes. They’ll be arriving sometime on Saturday. I’ll know the exact time for sure by Friday.”

“I’m very happy for all of you. Having your family reunited will be an extremely valuable part of Jarod’s healing. This couldn’t have happened at a better time.”

“Is there anything else you need to tell me, before I take Jarod home,” the Major asked, leaving his chair and smiling brightly, anxious to be with his son again.

“I’ll need to see him daily, until he’s emotionally ready to move on. Give me a call when you both decide what time will work the best for you,” Sydney said, extremely relieved by the positive turn of events.

“Thanks again Sydney,” he said briefly shaking his hand. “Let’s go get your brother,” he said excitedly, turning to Gemini who had been waiting patiently on the leather couch near the door.

* * *

2:03 PM
4th floor hallway nearing the elevators…

Miss Parker and Broots exited the elevator and headed down the hallway. Parker had been recounting how strange it had been seeing Jarod, of all people, drowning himself in beer at the Marquee hotel bar, just hours before he had been admitted to the hospital for treatment. She kept to her self how deeply upset and frightened she still was about his recent downward spiral into alcohol abuse. Instead, she told Broots, that when she saw him last night, he seemed to be returning to his normal self again.

A smile flickered across her face as she quickened her pace, remembering how wonderful it had been to be in his arms again, completely oblivious to what he had just gone through over night and today.

Spotting the two of them hurrying toward Jarod’s room, the Major’s emotions became inflamed, as his parental protectiveness took over. He hated the fact that Broots and that woman were almost at Jarod’s door and decided to intervene before they caused his son further distress.

Hearing a familiar voice from behind, Parker and Broots tuned around just as Major Charles and his younger son caught up with them.

“Gemini, why don’t you go in and visit with your brother, while I have a talk with his friends,” he suggested, waiting until his son closed the door, before he spoke.

“Look. I realized you came here to see Jarod, but this isn’t a good time. His, um, memories of his…ordeal at the Centre, all came back to him last night and I feel it would be better if he only sees his family right now.”

“As a matter of fact, Agent Meisser is waiting for us in his car downstairs. We were just about to take Jarod back to the hotel. So, if you’ll excuse me, we need some privacy right now.”

“How is he? Is Jarod all right?” Miss Parker asked urgently, eyeing the Major and then the closed door.

“I haven’t had a chance to see him yet, but Sydney said he’s handling it all right,” he said, checking his strong emotions, anxious for the former Centre Operatives to get out of his sight.

“If I could briefly see him, it would mean a great deal to me.”

“I think you’re out of line here,” he said, his eyes suddenly blazing with anger. “Excuse us, Mr. Broots, I would like to speak with Miss Parker alone,” he said, watching impatiently, as the intimidated computer tech. mumbled something nervously about getting a drink of water, as he quickly distanced himself from the two. *

“I’ve tried not to interfere, in Jarod’s private affairs, but I can’t keep quiet anymore. There’s just too much at stake here.”

“What do you mean by that?” Parker asked, crossing her arms defensively, steeling herself for what was coming next.

“I had a meeting with an FBI Agent last night, who helped locate my wife and daughter. They will be arriving on Saturday. When they find out about Jarod’s involvement with you, it will be distressing and difficult for them, to say the least.”

“I fear my wife has been irreparably traumatized by Jarod’s kidnapping and how you people heartlessly tried to chase Jarod down like a dog in front of her, just as she and my daughter were about to be reunited with him,” he said with difficulty, his words trailing off.

“You may not like hearing this, but I’m having an extreme amount of difficulty separating who you appear to be now, from what you were in the past.”

“You want me to stop seeing Jarod, don’t you?” she said, more than asked, feeling her face flush with anger.

“I don’t know, Miss Parker. It’s not my place to decide that. Jarod is a grown man and should be allowed to make his own decisions, no matter how difficult an adjustment his loved ones would have to make. He’s obviously extremely attracted to you, but you know as well as I do, how confused and venerable he is because of everything that’s happened to him. I’m worried that in the long run, there’d be no way you two could make it, considering the extreme hatred and cruelty you’ve shown toward him in the past,” he said, revealing more of his own feeling than he had intended to. “How can I be sure you’re really capable of truly loving my son? Will you be able to give him the emotional support he’s going to need for true happiness?” he asked, wrought with emotion, knowing he was saying things he’d promised himself he wouldn’t, but not able to stop.

“Major, if I didn’t love your son, I would have left right after this conversation began. I usually don’t tolerate being raked over the coals by anyone, but I understand you’re just trying to protect your son. I’ve always known you’ve probably had reservations about me, but I hope, sooner or later, you’ll realize your wrong. Excuse me, I better be going now; ” she said, forcing a smile, before turning on her heel and leaving. She was deeply disappointed by what he had said, though she had always know in the back of her mind that falling in love with Jarod would be problematic, to say the least, for his family.

Room 412 moments later…

“Dad,” Jarod said with a gentle smile, giving him a big hug. Closing his eyes, he lavished in the overwhelming feeling of security and love, he always felt from his father.

“How are you doing, son?” his dad asked, pulling him back slightly to take a good look at him.

“I’m happy, dad; really happy, and anxious to leave. When will mom be arriving? I can’t wait to see Emily and her.”

“They’ll be here on Saturday,” he said, with a toothy grin, as he watched Jarod’s eyes light up.

“Tell me all about them. Everything.”

“All right, son, but let’s go down to the car first. Dr. Meisser has been waiting a long time,” he said, motioning to Gemini, as they started for the door.

“Where are Broots and Miss Parker? Gemini said they were here.”

“I, um, asked them to leave,” he said feeling a sudden wave of guilt.

“Why on earth would you do that?” Jarod asked, disappointed and genuinely confused.

“We better wait ‘til we get home to discuss it,” he said, mentally kicking himself, knowing he had stepped over the line.









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