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Chapter or StoryAuthor's Chapter Notes:
This fanfic is written to keep alive our favorite show, The
Pretender, as we wait for more movies. I do not own the characters
of The Pretender or The Profiler. TNT, AOL, NBC, FOX, and I'm not
sure who else owns the show. Please don't sue me—Just make more
Pretender shows! Author's note - -Andrea Marie is the name I came up
with for Miss Parker and has nothing to do with the actor that plays
that role. In one of the episodes, it was mentioned that Charles was
Jarod's dad's first name, but I needed a last name so I gave him the
first name of John. Gemini's new name is Michael. Moreover, for
those of you, who don't know it, Green is not the real last name of
Sydney. Since it is well know, I've been using it in this piece.
December 28, 2002
Pretender, as we wait for more movies. I do not own the characters
of The Pretender or The Profiler. TNT, AOL, NBC, FOX, and I'm not
sure who else owns the show. Please don't sue me—Just make more
Pretender shows! Author's note - -Andrea Marie is the name I came up
with for Miss Parker and has nothing to do with the actor that plays
that role. In one of the episodes, it was mentioned that Charles was
Jarod's dad's first name, but I needed a last name so I gave him the
first name of John. Gemini's new name is Michael. Moreover, for
those of you, who don't know it, Green is not the real last name of
Sydney. Since it is well know, I've been using it in this piece.
December 28, 2002
In Pursuit of
Happiness
Part 41
By jojarod50
7:14 AM
A Safe-house
Undisclosed location
Yellowbird, Island
It was early morning on the island. The two-story ocean front
home Jarod and his family had been whisked away to, was under
constant surveillance, though the security team was told to keep a
low profile, hopefully giving the occupants a semblance of normalcy.
After tossing and turning all night, Jarod's parents finally
gave up on getting any meaningful sleep and went out on the balcony
just off their bedroom.
The filtered sunlight rising above a few scattered clouds, brought
alive the animated scene below, of crying seagulls gliding over the
shallow water, occasionally diving into the salty brine for a tasty
treat. It would have been a special way to start their day, if it
weren't for the immanent danger, they once again found their entire
family in.
Upstairs just down the hall way - -
second room on the right
Jarod mumbled something unintelligible then fell silent
again, while his wife lay motionless, unaffected by his latest
mutterings. Exhaustion had won out hours ago, and she had managed to
let go of her concern for him, desperately craving sleep.
Suddenly, he blurted out her name, his face contorting in pain, as he
quickly aborted his attempt to sit up.
"Jarod?" she asked startled awake. "What's wrong?"
"Sorry, Andi, go back to sleep," he apologized, giving her a gentle
pat, as he sunk back into his pillows.
"You look feverish," she said, as she reached for the aspirin on her
nightstand.
"No, Hon, I'm just overheated," he mumbled, pushing most of his
covers aside and closing his eyes again.
"How are you feeling?"
"Tired, just like you," he said quietly, methodically trying to slow
his rapid breathing, as sweat tricked down the side of his
face. "It's still early. Why don't we try to go back to sleep."
"Jarod, tell me what you were you dreaming about," she
pressed, scooting in closer, realizing that he was still visibly
shaken.
"I have no idea, " he fabricated, breaking eye contact for a
moment, not wanting her to know how violent his nightmares had become.
"Are you feeling all right? Most pregnant women experience morning
sickness during their first trimester."
"You remembered," Andrea said, nearly melting as his dark eyes gazed
lovingly into hers.
"Mmmm, how about a cup of hot coffee?" he managed brightly, hoping
she'd quit asking pointed questions and let it go. " They probably
have a coffee maker down stairs. I'll be right back," he said,
failing miserably to mask the severity of his pain, wincing, as he
started to get out of bed.
"Whoa! Not a chance, mister. You're the one who was shot.
Remember?"
"Hmm. Carrying two coffee mugs could prove problematic," he
said, glancing down at his ensconced arm, making light of his current
situation. "But after this, I'm waiting on you."
"Dance puppet, dance," she breathed, with a devilish
grin. "You'll be sorry you said that, Jarod."
"Well, I don't think it's going to be quite like that," the
Pretender said, in a low sexy voice, watching her slip out of bed,
snuggle into her warm terry-cloth robe, and disappear into the
hallway.
*
7:32 am.
Kitchen down stairs…
"Good morning, Andrea," Major Charles ventured, knowing from
experience how risky it is to be in the same room with her, before
her morning coffee. "I, um, made some coffee if you'd like some."
"God, doesn't anyone sleep through the night, anymore" she
grumbled under her breath, as she pulled two coffee mugs out of the
second cabinet she checked.
"Jarod told me you're with child," her father in law offered
with pride, looking sidelong at her, as he pushed aside some bacon
strips and added a couple of eggs to the pan.
"When did he have a chance to tell you?" she asked, turning
on her heel to face him. "Never mind," she said closing her eyes,
blocking out his startled expression. "Just don't take him out
shopping for cigars yet," she said, softening slightly.
"Well, he is pretty excited, you know," he mused, flipping over the
eggs. " Say, can I make you some breakfast? Margaret was always fond
of oatmeal with brown sugar and milk, during her earlier months.
Something about it seemed to settling her stomach. How does that
sound to you?" he asked innocently.
"Yummy," she said sarcastically, grimacing as the phone rang.
"What," she said, harsher than she meant, frustrated that she hadn't
had a moment of privacy, since she'd gotten up.
"I hope I am not calling at an inopportune time."
"Sydney, " she said, thrusting her hand poetically in the air. "Of
all people, you should know better than to call here this early in
the morning."
"Jarod is lucky to have such a warm and congenial wife."
"I'm really tired, Syd what do you want?"
"Oh, I was just wondering how everyone is doing, in light of
everything that has transpired, since the night before last," he
offered, fishing for answers.
"You mean, has Jarod taken another psychological leap off the
deep end. You tell me, Einstein. He managed to have nightmares all
night and I don't mean the "garden variety" and is acting like
nothing is wrong."
"I'm afraid he'll probably always have nightmares from time to time,
when under duress, considering the extreme severity of all he's been
though," Sydney explained, though his expression darkened with
concern.
"No thanks to you," she accused. "Why didn't you warn us
about Lyle's brilliant red file program? Damn you. You really are a
piece of work."
"Parker, sorry, I mean, Andrea," he corrected, feeling
terribly off balance. "I swear, I had no idea Lyle had a covert
project that included you and Jarod. You have my word."
"How about that coffee, Andi?" Jarod interrupted, stepping
into the kitchen, hoping to run interference for his former mentor.
"Jarod, what the hell are you doing downstairs?" she spit,
abruptly lowering the phone
"I live here," he offered innocently, not following her line of
reasoning at all.
"Don't you dare play dumb with me, genius. You could rupture your
stitches, going up and down those stairs," she rebuked, pulling out a
bar stool for him to sit down on.
"He's my friend, you know," he said quietly, closing the
space between them, as she shut her eyes and turned away.
"Listen to me, Andrea," he said, using his free hand to gently
turning her around. "After my recapture, Raines forced me to work on
mountains of data concerning the Gemini III cloning project. There
were also several references to Lyle's twisted red-file project. It
wasn't until recently, that fragmented memories of that time began
resurfacing, and I began putting the sordid pieces together. That's
why we baited Lyle into giving us the crucial information we needed.
How can you could possibly believe that Sydney was personally
involved in anything as demented as this," he said, obviously
troubled by her accusations.
Giving out a halting sigh, Andrea lifted the phone again and
replied, "Sorry, Syd, are you still there? I shouldn't have been
short with you. It's just, I didn't get much sleep last night. I'll
have Jarod give you a call later, after breakfast."
"I understand. At your convenience. By the way, how are you
feeling?" the doctor asked, remembering that she was with child.
"You mean, am I having morning sickness? What'd Jarod do,
take out an add in the paper?" she asked sarcastically, noticing, her
husband was giving her a disappointed look. "I'm fine, Sydney," she
managed in a softer voice, giving the phone a quick click.
*
"Dear Lord, Jarod. I don't envy you right now," Sydney breathed,
having experiencing first hand, the brunt of what a hormonally
charged pregnant "Parker" was going to be like.
*
Jarod settled down on the bar stool, studying his irritable wife. He
understood how deeply she continued to struggle with conflicting
emotions, concerning anything related to the Centre, but this time he
sensed that she was more frightened than anything else. Pinpointing
the exact cause, was going to take tolerance on his part, he
realized, fully aware that she was bent on getting a rise out of any
willing party.
"Look, Jarod, I'm sure he'll recover," she said callously,
confident that her disdain for his alleged activities was totally
justified. "He was the first to know all about Lyle's covert weapons
project, code named, "Silence". It doesn't take a genius to connect
the dots."
"I think you're really reaching here," Jarod said, finding it
increasingly difficult to be patient with her staggering leaps of
baseless logic. "How could you possibly…"
"You hate admitting I'm right, don't you?" she said, with a smirk,
crossing her slender arms over her chest defiantly.
"Andrea, I can't understand why you'd think that I'd have any
trouble…" he started, pausing for a moment, suddenly feeling dizzy
as he subtly leaned against the counter beside him.
" Jarod? Are you all right?" she asked, wondering why he had suddenly
quit talking.
"I thought I was getting coffee and pigs under the blankets or I
would have stayed in bed," the pretender said with a cocky smile,
grudgingly realizing it was just a matter of time before he had to go
back to bed.
"Pigs under the blanket? What the hell are those?"
"Son, your doctor won't be here until this after noon. Why
don't we go into the other room and I'll help you change your
dressings while Andrea fixes you some breakfast," his father offered,
hating the brow-beating he was taking.
"Thanks, Dad," he said, winking at his "neurotic", but sexy
wife, and padding his way into the bathroom.
*
First floor bathroom…
"Why don't you sit over there," his dad motioned, lowering
the toilet seat.
Jarod complied, knowing his dad always felt better doing
something constructive, especially when confronted with conflicting
personalities especially his new wife's. Gingerly he unbuttoned the
last few buttons he had managed on his shirt, accepting his dad's
assistance removing it and then the sling.
Gently peeling back the medical tape and gaze, Major Charles viewed
the damage to his son's shoulder for the first time, hating what he
was seeing.
"That surgeon did a great job of suturing that wound," he said,
looking it over for any signs of infection, before bandaging it up
again.
"You sure have a nasty bruise where your badge was, Jarod. Does, it,
um, hurt when you breathe?" he asked, wondering if the impact of the
bullet had cracked any ribs.
"No, it's ok, Dad," his son said quietly, essentially
brushing him off.
"You know, it'd probably be good if you'd grab a bite to eat,
then get a little more rest," he suggested, noticing how pale his son
was.
"Yeah, you're probably right," he conceded, studying the
mosaic tile on the floor, fully aware that he was totally exhausted
already, and hating it.
"You finished in here, or do you guys just like hangin' out
in the bathroom, together," Andrea chided, peeking in on the two,
hoping Jarod's breakfast wouldn't be ice cold before he got there.
*
Early afternoon…
"He's been asleep since breakfast. I'd rather not wake him
right now, Bailey," Andi said, despising his intrusive call, in
light of her husband's injuries, that she blamed squarely on him.
FBI Headquarters (Atlanta violent crimes task force unit)
Atlanta, Georgia
1:45 PM
"Yeah, well, I wouldn't want you to wake him anyway, Andrea," Agent
Malone said, studying the ash on the tip of his cigar. "I received a
fax from our field office on Yellowbird Island, over the lunch hour.
Please tell your husband, his program has out-preformed it's self.
Our suspects should be in custody well ahead of all projections.
Frankly, we could have never done this without him."
"Well, aren't you lucky Jarod didn't die in our driveway the
other night," she spit angrily, abruptly hanging up on him.
FBI Bureau
Down town office
Yellowbird, Island
"Jarod, I I know there's a glitch in the program, but it's a
sm small one. I d don't know. Maybe it happened wh when I transferred
the…Look, I can't just hand over the information to you over the ph
phone. I I work for the FBI, for hea heaven's sake," Broot's
whispered accidentally loudly enough to be over heard by the guy at
the desk next to him, who started starring at him.
"So do I," he reiterated in a slightly menacing voice,
reminding him that he was working in conjunction with the FBI and was
only temporarily taken off the case.
"I I know th that, Jarod, but…"
"Never mind, Broots," Jarod said with ease. " I wouldn't want to
place you in a compromising position. I'll patch in myself and get it
taken care of," the Pretender said with a hint of impatience,
obviously tired of dealing with meaningless governmental red tape.
*
Moments later…
"So, this is what you've been up to since you came up
stairs," Andrea said angrily, expecting her injured husband to be
fast asleep in bed. "Jarod, why the hell…"
"Andrea, what on earth were you expecting me to do? Sleep
while our whole family remains in jeopardy? The FBI needs my help.
Broots isn't equipped …"
"Damn you, Jarod. You almost died the other night. The least you can
do is…"
"Rest, and that's exactly what I'm doing. By the way, getting shot in
the shoulder isn't the near death experience you keep making it out
to be. You really need to scale things back a little bit. You're only
frightening yourself with your gross exaggerations," he said,
instantly regretting that he put it that way.
"I've never been afraid of anything in my entire life, you
arrogant son of a…"
"Hey, enough. You've got to get a hold of yourself. Being
pregnant has really got you off balance," he admonished, frustrated
that she was being so illogical.
"Oh yeah, just press every button I've got and kick back and
enjoy the show," she said, suddenly breaking into tears.
"Buttons? What do y…Sweetheart," Jarod began, "I'm not trying
to.."
"Don't you sweetheart me," she said, flipping the top of his
lap top shut. "Go to sleep," she demanded, leaving the room and
slamming the door behind her.
"Well, that went well," Jarod said, staring at the bedroom
door.
Breathing a heavy sigh, the Pretender finished his task on
the computer, then gingerly padded his way down stairs, despite what
might await him.
Beer Brewery outside Hamburg, Germany
12:00 AM
"Ich weiss das nich," the field agent lied, trying to retain
his composure, as the other man studied him with a suspicious look.
"Das ist nich reich. Kommen Sie heir, bitta. Wo bist du?"
*
FBI office
Downtown office
Yellowbird, Island
"Damn,
Bruster just faxed me. One of our field agents is in trouble," Broots
breathed, as his fingers flew over the keys, attempting to advert a
disaster. "Check the feed. It's coming in right now."
"He better have that rookie pulled out of there, ASAP. Give
Jammison the head's up." We can't afford to tip our hand this early
in the game."
*
Safe-house
First floor livingroom
2:15 PM
"Hi big brother," Emily said, leaning forward on the couch, as Jarod
finished descending the last of the stairs. "We're watching "Search
for Spock," if you want to join us," she said, anxious to spend time
with him.
"Yeah, it's really cool," his clone, Michael, offered, putting a big
handful of popcorn in his mouth.
"Maybe after a while," Jarod said, with a thin smile, wishing he
could just go back to bed.
"Jarod, your wife just went out on the patio, his mom said in a
gentle voice.
"Thanks, mom," Jarod said shyly, wondering if his whole family
overheard the fight Andi had just had with him. Pretending everything
was all right seemed rather foolish, but he tried anyway, his half-
hearted smile fading the moment he was out of their line of sight.
*
First floor patio
Moments later…
"I thought I might find you out here," Jarod ventured,
stepping through the sliding glass door, immediately assaulted by a
warm salty breeze and the distant sound of the ocean waves.
"Go away, Jarod. You've jerked me around more than enough for
one afternoon," she said, avoiding looking at him.
"I'm really getting tired, Andi," Jarod confided,
nonchalantly leaning against the deck rail for support. "I just
wanted to say, I'm sorry I upset you. I'm going to bed, now," he
said, slowly turning back toward the house, as a surveillance guard
discreetly stepped away.
"Oh, by the way, I think the program is performing properly now," he
mentioned brightly," turning back slightly. "It won't be long before
we'll be out of danger for good."
"The hell we will," Adrea spit venomously, abruptly turning
toward him. "You know as well as I do, that this nightmare is never
going to end."
So that's what this is all about, he thought, relieved, to
finally discover what was making his wife so afraid.
"You're going to have to trust me, sweetheart. Everything is going to
be all right, I promise."
"You're so naïve, Jarod. God, that's what I hate about you
most. The Centre is never going to stop controlling us. I was a fool
to ever let my guard down and marry you. What the heck was I
thinking? We'll be on the run the rest of our lives. And what about
our child, Jarod, what's going to happen to our child?"
"Andrea, listen to me. There is no "Centre" anymore," the Pretender
reminded her. "All the Centre players are facing life sentences.
Your brother is in solitary confinement and will never see the light
of day again. And as for his little German fan club members, they are
all under surveillance and will be out of commission as soon as the
rest of our operatives are in place. Which should be in approximately
48 hours, our time," he said, checking his watch. "It's over,
sweetheart, it's all over," he said, drawing her, best he could, into
a gentle hug. "I promise you, everything is going to be all right."
His wife stiffened as he touched her, then markedly relaxed, giving
in to his gentle touch. "Jarod, you look so tired," Andi said,
noticing her husband's eyes were deeply shadowed.
"Yeah, it's been a long day, already," he admitted, hating
that it was only mid-afternoon. "Why don't we continue this
discussion after I've gotten some rest."
*
"Jarod, your doctor is here," Major Charles said, stepping out on the
patio, relieved to see him holding Andi in his arms
"Thanks, Dad, I'll be right in. Sorry Andi, I wish we could…"
"Never mind, Jarod. You need to do this."
"You know, Andi, I'm really hungry," he said out of the
blue. "Could you make me a snack in a little bit, " he said, with a
dimpled smile, wanting her to miss the doctor's report, just in
case. "Why don't you check and see if they stocked the kitchen with
any Twinkies," Jarod asked, almost child like. "Or ice cream," he
suggested, hoping she'd take the bait
"Do I look like a waitress to you?" she reacted, feeling way
too domesticated. "What is it with you, anyway. One minute you're a
sage genius and the next a little child."
"What can I say? I like Twinkies," he said innocently. "I
um, better go on in," he said grudgingly, making his way back into
the house, markedly slower than before. The constant pain he was
experiencing was finally beginning to take its toll on him.
*
Living room, just off the patio…
"Hi Jarod. I'm Doctor Everly, the one who signed your release
from the hospital, the day before yesterday," he said offering his
hand.
"I'm sorry. I don't seem to remember you," Jarod said, eyeing
him uncomfortably.
"No, I don't imagine you do," he said, aborting the
gesture. "You were out cold from a heavy dose of Seconal, by the
time I was called in. Is there somewhere more private where I could
give you a brief examination?" the young doctor questioned, glancing
around.
"There's a sun room just down that hallway," Major Charles, offered,
nodding in that direction.
"Thank you, sir."
"Sydney, what a surprise," Jarod managed, fighting to remain neutral,
as his mentor suddenly stepped into the room.
"I hope you don't mind, Jarod. Dr. Everly thought it would be
beneficial if I tagged along," the psychiatrist explained, receiving
the cold reception he had expected from his former Pretender.
Exhausted and extremely aggravated, the Pretender led the way down
the narrow hallway, felling like he had been ambushed.
*
Sun room
Moments later…
"Jarod, you were very luck. If your badge hadn't deflected that
bullet, you'd be wearing a toe-tag right now," Dr. Everly said,
studying the trajectory of the bullet and the sutured wound, before
wrapping it up again.
"I know," he said with a long sigh, tired of hearing about it.
"It might be wise to put you on an antibiotic regimen until your
wound shows signs of healing," he said, writing an order on Jarod's
chart.
Remaining unaffected became impossible, as the doctor slightly
manipulated his left arm, while rebandaging his shoulder, causing
him substantial pain.
"I'm sorry, Jarod. You appear to be experiencing far more discomfort
than I would like to see," he said, gently placing his arm in the
sling again. "Why don't we discontinue the Demerol and try you on
some Perocet," he suggested, jotting it down on Jarod's chart, hoping
it would make him feel more comfortable."
"Thank you," the Pretender said quietly, familiar with that
particular drug and relieved at the prospect of feeling less pain.
"Have you been having any trouble sleeping?" the young doctor asked,
observing how unusually exhausted his patient appeared and that he
was becoming increasingly agitated as he was questioned about it, a
detail not lost to Sydney.
"No, not really," the Pretender lied, shifting imperceptibly in his
seat, consciously fighting to calm back down.
As the doctor place the cuff around his upper arm, Jarod couldn't
help but notice that his right hand was trembling, despite his best
efforts to relax.
Continuing his dialogue while inflating the cuff, Dr. Everly tried to
reassure his obviously reluctant patient "It's only natural for one
who had been violently assaulted to have difficulty with anxiety for
a while, " he offered, not surprised that his systolic and diastolic
pressures were both substantially elevated. "It might be wise if we
started you on some Xyanax? It will help you relax so that you can
get some decent sleep until things calm down for you again," he said,
busily writing on his pad again.
Jarod remained deafly silent, realizing that Sydney must have shared
Andrea's comments about his meaningless nightmares to the doctor
sitting across from him, who incidentally, had pumped his blood-
pressure cuff too tightly.
"That really won't be necessary," Jarod said convincingly, hoping
Andrea wouldn't come into the room. There was no way he'd allow
himself to be overly medicated, even if it meant lying, to preserve
his ability to protect his family, if anything unforeseen should come
up.
"The Perocet has a rather sedative quality, which should produce the
desired calming effect, without the redundancy of another drug."
"Are you a doctor?"
"Jarod, let's take a walk," Sydney suggested, wanting Jarod to level
with him.
"I'm really tired right now, Sydney," Jarod said, purposely
sidestepping a confrontation with him.
"Dr. Everly, if you'll excuse us. I'd like to talk to Jarod alone."
"Certainly. I need to phone in his prescriptions, before the pharmacy
closes," the young doctor offered, quickly leaving the room.
*
"Jarod, why are you being so obstinate. Have you looked in a mirror
today? There's no way that you can hide the fact that you haven't
slept at all since you arrived here," he said, noticing that his
counter part was exhausted and having trouble maintaining his
concentration. "Please let me help you. "
"How am I supposed to look, Sydney?" Jarod shot back. "I took a slug
in my left shoulder and lost a substantial amount of blood, for
heaven's sake. Why are you trying to make this into a psychological
federal case? You're really reaching here," Jarod bristled, puzzled
by his pointed intrusiveness.
"Andrea told me that you are having nightmares again."
"I'm not sure if you've noticed it or not, but she isn't exactly a
wealth of accurate information today," he countered.
"Jarod, you know, that if you continue to have disruptive sleep, you
stand a good chance of becoming psychotic again. Is that what you
really want?" he asked gently, knowing the truth stung like a flaming
dart.
"If you don't mine my saying so, that's an awfully big "if", Sydney.
I can't believe that after one rough night you're ready to dope me up
and put me on a "psyche-ward." he accused, unaware that he was
tugging on the hem of his shirt.
Sydney studied his former patient for a moment, heart-sick to see him
reverting to an earlier form of comfort, probably completely unaware
that he was doing so.
"Jarod, please understand. I'm only trying to help you."
"Help me what? It's only natural for one to have caustic nightmares
following an extremely violent episode, like the one I experienced
the other night," he said, unaware that his hand was trembling as he
ran it though his tangled hair. "End of story."
"Jarod, you're not listening to me."
"Oh but I am. What puzzles me most is, why you're so obsessed with my
mental status right now," he said, eyeing him curiously. "I'm fine,
Sydney," he said honestly, assuring himself more than anyone
else. "Aren't you aware that you're only going to upset Andrea, if
you keep on pursuing this. She's, um, having enough trouble, as it
is, coping with our current situation, without your filling her head
full of negative ideas," he confided, obviously uncomfortable letting
him know.
"Jarod, Andrea will always be able to take care of herself. I'm much
more concerned about you right now. Why don't we start you on some
counseling again, until you get back on your feet," he offered, not
wanting him to slip into depression again. I think the trauma you
have experienced will be considerably difficult for you to face on
your own," Sydney reiterated firmly, glancing again at his patient's
trembling hands and hating the understandable look of anger on his
face.
Jarod considered what his former psychiatrist had just said, then
made his way painfully to his feet with a sick smile on his face, and
abruptly left the room.
*
Living room just off the hallway to the sun room…
"Jarod, is everything all right?" his wife asked, as he quietly made
his way past her.
"It went fine," he offered, masterfully composing himself and forcing
a gently smile. "Honey, I'm really tired. If you don't mind, I think
I'll just go to bed for a little while," he said breaking eye contact
and slowly heading up stairs.
"Andrea, let him go," Major Charles said quietly, stepping in-between
her and the stairs, knowing by his son's expression, that he had had
all he could take.
"Sydney, could I have a word with you," Major Charles
asked.
*
Patio…about 4:30 PM
"Jarod appears to be fairly stable right now, but is showing
troubling signs of stress reminiscent of those he exhibited, while
under my care at Menningers. When I tried to discuss it with him, he
completely shut me out. Major, I'm quite certain that he was deeply
traumatized by this latest incident, though I'm not sure he
appreciates the gravity of his situation. If he doesn't take
appropriate steps to lower his stress level , I'm afraid he might
suffer a relapse."
"Is there anything we can do?" Major Charles asked quietly, rubbing
his temple, hoping to stave off a horrible headache.
*
Jarod and Andrea's bedroom…
5:00 PM
"There you go. Twinkies and some cocoa," Andrea said brightly,
setting the tray beside his bedside table.
"You must think I'm a fool," Jarod said, staring at her with a frown
on his face.
"I don't understand."
"I think you do," the Pretender said, grimacing as he gingerly laid
down in bed. "I don't know what Sydney told you, but I don't need to
be medicated to get a good nights sleep."
"Jarod, he's a psychiatrist."
"And I'm anything I want to be. He's limited. He doesn't hold all the
answers. I'm all right. Trust me," he said, settling in and closing
his eyes. "I promise, that I will be there for you and our baby, no
matter what, " he said, quietly, allowing the calm to overtake him,
totally worn down and still feeling substantial pain.
"Jarod, I'm sorry I didn't mean…."
"I know," he said giving her a pat on her hand. "Just let me get a
little rest and maybe we can have a nice dinner together. Does that
sound all right to you?" he asked, barely able to keep his eyes
opened.
"If that's what you want, Jarod," she said, giving him a kiss and
arranging his covers.
"Thanks, Andi." TBC - -jemac@grapevine.net Feedback greatly
appreciated. Sorry it took over a year to get back to this - -jojarod
Happiness
Part 41
By jojarod50
7:14 AM
A Safe-house
Undisclosed location
Yellowbird, Island
It was early morning on the island. The two-story ocean front
home Jarod and his family had been whisked away to, was under
constant surveillance, though the security team was told to keep a
low profile, hopefully giving the occupants a semblance of normalcy.
After tossing and turning all night, Jarod's parents finally
gave up on getting any meaningful sleep and went out on the balcony
just off their bedroom.
The filtered sunlight rising above a few scattered clouds, brought
alive the animated scene below, of crying seagulls gliding over the
shallow water, occasionally diving into the salty brine for a tasty
treat. It would have been a special way to start their day, if it
weren't for the immanent danger, they once again found their entire
family in.
Upstairs just down the hall way - -
second room on the right
Jarod mumbled something unintelligible then fell silent
again, while his wife lay motionless, unaffected by his latest
mutterings. Exhaustion had won out hours ago, and she had managed to
let go of her concern for him, desperately craving sleep.
Suddenly, he blurted out her name, his face contorting in pain, as he
quickly aborted his attempt to sit up.
"Jarod?" she asked startled awake. "What's wrong?"
"Sorry, Andi, go back to sleep," he apologized, giving her a gentle
pat, as he sunk back into his pillows.
"You look feverish," she said, as she reached for the aspirin on her
nightstand.
"No, Hon, I'm just overheated," he mumbled, pushing most of his
covers aside and closing his eyes again.
"How are you feeling?"
"Tired, just like you," he said quietly, methodically trying to slow
his rapid breathing, as sweat tricked down the side of his
face. "It's still early. Why don't we try to go back to sleep."
"Jarod, tell me what you were you dreaming about," she
pressed, scooting in closer, realizing that he was still visibly
shaken.
"I have no idea, " he fabricated, breaking eye contact for a
moment, not wanting her to know how violent his nightmares had become.
"Are you feeling all right? Most pregnant women experience morning
sickness during their first trimester."
"You remembered," Andrea said, nearly melting as his dark eyes gazed
lovingly into hers.
"Mmmm, how about a cup of hot coffee?" he managed brightly, hoping
she'd quit asking pointed questions and let it go. " They probably
have a coffee maker down stairs. I'll be right back," he said,
failing miserably to mask the severity of his pain, wincing, as he
started to get out of bed.
"Whoa! Not a chance, mister. You're the one who was shot.
Remember?"
"Hmm. Carrying two coffee mugs could prove problematic," he
said, glancing down at his ensconced arm, making light of his current
situation. "But after this, I'm waiting on you."
"Dance puppet, dance," she breathed, with a devilish
grin. "You'll be sorry you said that, Jarod."
"Well, I don't think it's going to be quite like that," the
Pretender said, in a low sexy voice, watching her slip out of bed,
snuggle into her warm terry-cloth robe, and disappear into the
hallway.
*
7:32 am.
Kitchen down stairs…
"Good morning, Andrea," Major Charles ventured, knowing from
experience how risky it is to be in the same room with her, before
her morning coffee. "I, um, made some coffee if you'd like some."
"God, doesn't anyone sleep through the night, anymore" she
grumbled under her breath, as she pulled two coffee mugs out of the
second cabinet she checked.
"Jarod told me you're with child," her father in law offered
with pride, looking sidelong at her, as he pushed aside some bacon
strips and added a couple of eggs to the pan.
"When did he have a chance to tell you?" she asked, turning
on her heel to face him. "Never mind," she said closing her eyes,
blocking out his startled expression. "Just don't take him out
shopping for cigars yet," she said, softening slightly.
"Well, he is pretty excited, you know," he mused, flipping over the
eggs. " Say, can I make you some breakfast? Margaret was always fond
of oatmeal with brown sugar and milk, during her earlier months.
Something about it seemed to settling her stomach. How does that
sound to you?" he asked innocently.
"Yummy," she said sarcastically, grimacing as the phone rang.
"What," she said, harsher than she meant, frustrated that she hadn't
had a moment of privacy, since she'd gotten up.
"I hope I am not calling at an inopportune time."
"Sydney, " she said, thrusting her hand poetically in the air. "Of
all people, you should know better than to call here this early in
the morning."
"Jarod is lucky to have such a warm and congenial wife."
"I'm really tired, Syd what do you want?"
"Oh, I was just wondering how everyone is doing, in light of
everything that has transpired, since the night before last," he
offered, fishing for answers.
"You mean, has Jarod taken another psychological leap off the
deep end. You tell me, Einstein. He managed to have nightmares all
night and I don't mean the "garden variety" and is acting like
nothing is wrong."
"I'm afraid he'll probably always have nightmares from time to time,
when under duress, considering the extreme severity of all he's been
though," Sydney explained, though his expression darkened with
concern.
"No thanks to you," she accused. "Why didn't you warn us
about Lyle's brilliant red file program? Damn you. You really are a
piece of work."
"Parker, sorry, I mean, Andrea," he corrected, feeling
terribly off balance. "I swear, I had no idea Lyle had a covert
project that included you and Jarod. You have my word."
"How about that coffee, Andi?" Jarod interrupted, stepping
into the kitchen, hoping to run interference for his former mentor.
"Jarod, what the hell are you doing downstairs?" she spit,
abruptly lowering the phone
"I live here," he offered innocently, not following her line of
reasoning at all.
"Don't you dare play dumb with me, genius. You could rupture your
stitches, going up and down those stairs," she rebuked, pulling out a
bar stool for him to sit down on.
"He's my friend, you know," he said quietly, closing the
space between them, as she shut her eyes and turned away.
"Listen to me, Andrea," he said, using his free hand to gently
turning her around. "After my recapture, Raines forced me to work on
mountains of data concerning the Gemini III cloning project. There
were also several references to Lyle's twisted red-file project. It
wasn't until recently, that fragmented memories of that time began
resurfacing, and I began putting the sordid pieces together. That's
why we baited Lyle into giving us the crucial information we needed.
How can you could possibly believe that Sydney was personally
involved in anything as demented as this," he said, obviously
troubled by her accusations.
Giving out a halting sigh, Andrea lifted the phone again and
replied, "Sorry, Syd, are you still there? I shouldn't have been
short with you. It's just, I didn't get much sleep last night. I'll
have Jarod give you a call later, after breakfast."
"I understand. At your convenience. By the way, how are you
feeling?" the doctor asked, remembering that she was with child.
"You mean, am I having morning sickness? What'd Jarod do,
take out an add in the paper?" she asked sarcastically, noticing, her
husband was giving her a disappointed look. "I'm fine, Sydney," she
managed in a softer voice, giving the phone a quick click.
*
"Dear Lord, Jarod. I don't envy you right now," Sydney breathed,
having experiencing first hand, the brunt of what a hormonally
charged pregnant "Parker" was going to be like.
*
Jarod settled down on the bar stool, studying his irritable wife. He
understood how deeply she continued to struggle with conflicting
emotions, concerning anything related to the Centre, but this time he
sensed that she was more frightened than anything else. Pinpointing
the exact cause, was going to take tolerance on his part, he
realized, fully aware that she was bent on getting a rise out of any
willing party.
"Look, Jarod, I'm sure he'll recover," she said callously,
confident that her disdain for his alleged activities was totally
justified. "He was the first to know all about Lyle's covert weapons
project, code named, "Silence". It doesn't take a genius to connect
the dots."
"I think you're really reaching here," Jarod said, finding it
increasingly difficult to be patient with her staggering leaps of
baseless logic. "How could you possibly…"
"You hate admitting I'm right, don't you?" she said, with a smirk,
crossing her slender arms over her chest defiantly.
"Andrea, I can't understand why you'd think that I'd have any
trouble…" he started, pausing for a moment, suddenly feeling dizzy
as he subtly leaned against the counter beside him.
" Jarod? Are you all right?" she asked, wondering why he had suddenly
quit talking.
"I thought I was getting coffee and pigs under the blankets or I
would have stayed in bed," the pretender said with a cocky smile,
grudgingly realizing it was just a matter of time before he had to go
back to bed.
"Pigs under the blanket? What the hell are those?"
"Son, your doctor won't be here until this after noon. Why
don't we go into the other room and I'll help you change your
dressings while Andrea fixes you some breakfast," his father offered,
hating the brow-beating he was taking.
"Thanks, Dad," he said, winking at his "neurotic", but sexy
wife, and padding his way into the bathroom.
*
First floor bathroom…
"Why don't you sit over there," his dad motioned, lowering
the toilet seat.
Jarod complied, knowing his dad always felt better doing
something constructive, especially when confronted with conflicting
personalities especially his new wife's. Gingerly he unbuttoned the
last few buttons he had managed on his shirt, accepting his dad's
assistance removing it and then the sling.
Gently peeling back the medical tape and gaze, Major Charles viewed
the damage to his son's shoulder for the first time, hating what he
was seeing.
"That surgeon did a great job of suturing that wound," he said,
looking it over for any signs of infection, before bandaging it up
again.
"You sure have a nasty bruise where your badge was, Jarod. Does, it,
um, hurt when you breathe?" he asked, wondering if the impact of the
bullet had cracked any ribs.
"No, it's ok, Dad," his son said quietly, essentially
brushing him off.
"You know, it'd probably be good if you'd grab a bite to eat,
then get a little more rest," he suggested, noticing how pale his son
was.
"Yeah, you're probably right," he conceded, studying the
mosaic tile on the floor, fully aware that he was totally exhausted
already, and hating it.
"You finished in here, or do you guys just like hangin' out
in the bathroom, together," Andrea chided, peeking in on the two,
hoping Jarod's breakfast wouldn't be ice cold before he got there.
*
Early afternoon…
"He's been asleep since breakfast. I'd rather not wake him
right now, Bailey," Andi said, despising his intrusive call, in
light of her husband's injuries, that she blamed squarely on him.
FBI Headquarters (Atlanta violent crimes task force unit)
Atlanta, Georgia
1:45 PM
"Yeah, well, I wouldn't want you to wake him anyway, Andrea," Agent
Malone said, studying the ash on the tip of his cigar. "I received a
fax from our field office on Yellowbird Island, over the lunch hour.
Please tell your husband, his program has out-preformed it's self.
Our suspects should be in custody well ahead of all projections.
Frankly, we could have never done this without him."
"Well, aren't you lucky Jarod didn't die in our driveway the
other night," she spit angrily, abruptly hanging up on him.
FBI Bureau
Down town office
Yellowbird, Island
"Jarod, I I know there's a glitch in the program, but it's a
sm small one. I d don't know. Maybe it happened wh when I transferred
the…Look, I can't just hand over the information to you over the ph
phone. I I work for the FBI, for hea heaven's sake," Broot's
whispered accidentally loudly enough to be over heard by the guy at
the desk next to him, who started starring at him.
"So do I," he reiterated in a slightly menacing voice,
reminding him that he was working in conjunction with the FBI and was
only temporarily taken off the case.
"I I know th that, Jarod, but…"
"Never mind, Broots," Jarod said with ease. " I wouldn't want to
place you in a compromising position. I'll patch in myself and get it
taken care of," the Pretender said with a hint of impatience,
obviously tired of dealing with meaningless governmental red tape.
*
Moments later…
"So, this is what you've been up to since you came up
stairs," Andrea said angrily, expecting her injured husband to be
fast asleep in bed. "Jarod, why the hell…"
"Andrea, what on earth were you expecting me to do? Sleep
while our whole family remains in jeopardy? The FBI needs my help.
Broots isn't equipped …"
"Damn you, Jarod. You almost died the other night. The least you can
do is…"
"Rest, and that's exactly what I'm doing. By the way, getting shot in
the shoulder isn't the near death experience you keep making it out
to be. You really need to scale things back a little bit. You're only
frightening yourself with your gross exaggerations," he said,
instantly regretting that he put it that way.
"I've never been afraid of anything in my entire life, you
arrogant son of a…"
"Hey, enough. You've got to get a hold of yourself. Being
pregnant has really got you off balance," he admonished, frustrated
that she was being so illogical.
"Oh yeah, just press every button I've got and kick back and
enjoy the show," she said, suddenly breaking into tears.
"Buttons? What do y…Sweetheart," Jarod began, "I'm not trying
to.."
"Don't you sweetheart me," she said, flipping the top of his
lap top shut. "Go to sleep," she demanded, leaving the room and
slamming the door behind her.
"Well, that went well," Jarod said, staring at the bedroom
door.
Breathing a heavy sigh, the Pretender finished his task on
the computer, then gingerly padded his way down stairs, despite what
might await him.
Beer Brewery outside Hamburg, Germany
12:00 AM
"Ich weiss das nich," the field agent lied, trying to retain
his composure, as the other man studied him with a suspicious look.
"Das ist nich reich. Kommen Sie heir, bitta. Wo bist du?"
*
FBI office
Downtown office
Yellowbird, Island
"Damn,
Bruster just faxed me. One of our field agents is in trouble," Broots
breathed, as his fingers flew over the keys, attempting to advert a
disaster. "Check the feed. It's coming in right now."
"He better have that rookie pulled out of there, ASAP. Give
Jammison the head's up." We can't afford to tip our hand this early
in the game."
*
Safe-house
First floor livingroom
2:15 PM
"Hi big brother," Emily said, leaning forward on the couch, as Jarod
finished descending the last of the stairs. "We're watching "Search
for Spock," if you want to join us," she said, anxious to spend time
with him.
"Yeah, it's really cool," his clone, Michael, offered, putting a big
handful of popcorn in his mouth.
"Maybe after a while," Jarod said, with a thin smile, wishing he
could just go back to bed.
"Jarod, your wife just went out on the patio, his mom said in a
gentle voice.
"Thanks, mom," Jarod said shyly, wondering if his whole family
overheard the fight Andi had just had with him. Pretending everything
was all right seemed rather foolish, but he tried anyway, his half-
hearted smile fading the moment he was out of their line of sight.
*
First floor patio
Moments later…
"I thought I might find you out here," Jarod ventured,
stepping through the sliding glass door, immediately assaulted by a
warm salty breeze and the distant sound of the ocean waves.
"Go away, Jarod. You've jerked me around more than enough for
one afternoon," she said, avoiding looking at him.
"I'm really getting tired, Andi," Jarod confided,
nonchalantly leaning against the deck rail for support. "I just
wanted to say, I'm sorry I upset you. I'm going to bed, now," he
said, slowly turning back toward the house, as a surveillance guard
discreetly stepped away.
"Oh, by the way, I think the program is performing properly now," he
mentioned brightly," turning back slightly. "It won't be long before
we'll be out of danger for good."
"The hell we will," Adrea spit venomously, abruptly turning
toward him. "You know as well as I do, that this nightmare is never
going to end."
So that's what this is all about, he thought, relieved, to
finally discover what was making his wife so afraid.
"You're going to have to trust me, sweetheart. Everything is going to
be all right, I promise."
"You're so naïve, Jarod. God, that's what I hate about you
most. The Centre is never going to stop controlling us. I was a fool
to ever let my guard down and marry you. What the heck was I
thinking? We'll be on the run the rest of our lives. And what about
our child, Jarod, what's going to happen to our child?"
"Andrea, listen to me. There is no "Centre" anymore," the Pretender
reminded her. "All the Centre players are facing life sentences.
Your brother is in solitary confinement and will never see the light
of day again. And as for his little German fan club members, they are
all under surveillance and will be out of commission as soon as the
rest of our operatives are in place. Which should be in approximately
48 hours, our time," he said, checking his watch. "It's over,
sweetheart, it's all over," he said, drawing her, best he could, into
a gentle hug. "I promise you, everything is going to be all right."
His wife stiffened as he touched her, then markedly relaxed, giving
in to his gentle touch. "Jarod, you look so tired," Andi said,
noticing her husband's eyes were deeply shadowed.
"Yeah, it's been a long day, already," he admitted, hating
that it was only mid-afternoon. "Why don't we continue this
discussion after I've gotten some rest."
*
"Jarod, your doctor is here," Major Charles said, stepping out on the
patio, relieved to see him holding Andi in his arms
"Thanks, Dad, I'll be right in. Sorry Andi, I wish we could…"
"Never mind, Jarod. You need to do this."
"You know, Andi, I'm really hungry," he said out of the
blue. "Could you make me a snack in a little bit, " he said, with a
dimpled smile, wanting her to miss the doctor's report, just in
case. "Why don't you check and see if they stocked the kitchen with
any Twinkies," Jarod asked, almost child like. "Or ice cream," he
suggested, hoping she'd take the bait
"Do I look like a waitress to you?" she reacted, feeling way
too domesticated. "What is it with you, anyway. One minute you're a
sage genius and the next a little child."
"What can I say? I like Twinkies," he said innocently. "I
um, better go on in," he said grudgingly, making his way back into
the house, markedly slower than before. The constant pain he was
experiencing was finally beginning to take its toll on him.
*
Living room, just off the patio…
"Hi Jarod. I'm Doctor Everly, the one who signed your release
from the hospital, the day before yesterday," he said offering his
hand.
"I'm sorry. I don't seem to remember you," Jarod said, eyeing
him uncomfortably.
"No, I don't imagine you do," he said, aborting the
gesture. "You were out cold from a heavy dose of Seconal, by the
time I was called in. Is there somewhere more private where I could
give you a brief examination?" the young doctor questioned, glancing
around.
"There's a sun room just down that hallway," Major Charles, offered,
nodding in that direction.
"Thank you, sir."
"Sydney, what a surprise," Jarod managed, fighting to remain neutral,
as his mentor suddenly stepped into the room.
"I hope you don't mind, Jarod. Dr. Everly thought it would be
beneficial if I tagged along," the psychiatrist explained, receiving
the cold reception he had expected from his former Pretender.
Exhausted and extremely aggravated, the Pretender led the way down
the narrow hallway, felling like he had been ambushed.
*
Sun room
Moments later…
"Jarod, you were very luck. If your badge hadn't deflected that
bullet, you'd be wearing a toe-tag right now," Dr. Everly said,
studying the trajectory of the bullet and the sutured wound, before
wrapping it up again.
"I know," he said with a long sigh, tired of hearing about it.
"It might be wise to put you on an antibiotic regimen until your
wound shows signs of healing," he said, writing an order on Jarod's
chart.
Remaining unaffected became impossible, as the doctor slightly
manipulated his left arm, while rebandaging his shoulder, causing
him substantial pain.
"I'm sorry, Jarod. You appear to be experiencing far more discomfort
than I would like to see," he said, gently placing his arm in the
sling again. "Why don't we discontinue the Demerol and try you on
some Perocet," he suggested, jotting it down on Jarod's chart, hoping
it would make him feel more comfortable."
"Thank you," the Pretender said quietly, familiar with that
particular drug and relieved at the prospect of feeling less pain.
"Have you been having any trouble sleeping?" the young doctor asked,
observing how unusually exhausted his patient appeared and that he
was becoming increasingly agitated as he was questioned about it, a
detail not lost to Sydney.
"No, not really," the Pretender lied, shifting imperceptibly in his
seat, consciously fighting to calm back down.
As the doctor place the cuff around his upper arm, Jarod couldn't
help but notice that his right hand was trembling, despite his best
efforts to relax.
Continuing his dialogue while inflating the cuff, Dr. Everly tried to
reassure his obviously reluctant patient "It's only natural for one
who had been violently assaulted to have difficulty with anxiety for
a while, " he offered, not surprised that his systolic and diastolic
pressures were both substantially elevated. "It might be wise if we
started you on some Xyanax? It will help you relax so that you can
get some decent sleep until things calm down for you again," he said,
busily writing on his pad again.
Jarod remained deafly silent, realizing that Sydney must have shared
Andrea's comments about his meaningless nightmares to the doctor
sitting across from him, who incidentally, had pumped his blood-
pressure cuff too tightly.
"That really won't be necessary," Jarod said convincingly, hoping
Andrea wouldn't come into the room. There was no way he'd allow
himself to be overly medicated, even if it meant lying, to preserve
his ability to protect his family, if anything unforeseen should come
up.
"The Perocet has a rather sedative quality, which should produce the
desired calming effect, without the redundancy of another drug."
"Are you a doctor?"
"Jarod, let's take a walk," Sydney suggested, wanting Jarod to level
with him.
"I'm really tired right now, Sydney," Jarod said, purposely
sidestepping a confrontation with him.
"Dr. Everly, if you'll excuse us. I'd like to talk to Jarod alone."
"Certainly. I need to phone in his prescriptions, before the pharmacy
closes," the young doctor offered, quickly leaving the room.
*
"Jarod, why are you being so obstinate. Have you looked in a mirror
today? There's no way that you can hide the fact that you haven't
slept at all since you arrived here," he said, noticing that his
counter part was exhausted and having trouble maintaining his
concentration. "Please let me help you. "
"How am I supposed to look, Sydney?" Jarod shot back. "I took a slug
in my left shoulder and lost a substantial amount of blood, for
heaven's sake. Why are you trying to make this into a psychological
federal case? You're really reaching here," Jarod bristled, puzzled
by his pointed intrusiveness.
"Andrea told me that you are having nightmares again."
"I'm not sure if you've noticed it or not, but she isn't exactly a
wealth of accurate information today," he countered.
"Jarod, you know, that if you continue to have disruptive sleep, you
stand a good chance of becoming psychotic again. Is that what you
really want?" he asked gently, knowing the truth stung like a flaming
dart.
"If you don't mine my saying so, that's an awfully big "if", Sydney.
I can't believe that after one rough night you're ready to dope me up
and put me on a "psyche-ward." he accused, unaware that he was
tugging on the hem of his shirt.
Sydney studied his former patient for a moment, heart-sick to see him
reverting to an earlier form of comfort, probably completely unaware
that he was doing so.
"Jarod, please understand. I'm only trying to help you."
"Help me what? It's only natural for one to have caustic nightmares
following an extremely violent episode, like the one I experienced
the other night," he said, unaware that his hand was trembling as he
ran it though his tangled hair. "End of story."
"Jarod, you're not listening to me."
"Oh but I am. What puzzles me most is, why you're so obsessed with my
mental status right now," he said, eyeing him curiously. "I'm fine,
Sydney," he said honestly, assuring himself more than anyone
else. "Aren't you aware that you're only going to upset Andrea, if
you keep on pursuing this. She's, um, having enough trouble, as it
is, coping with our current situation, without your filling her head
full of negative ideas," he confided, obviously uncomfortable letting
him know.
"Jarod, Andrea will always be able to take care of herself. I'm much
more concerned about you right now. Why don't we start you on some
counseling again, until you get back on your feet," he offered, not
wanting him to slip into depression again. I think the trauma you
have experienced will be considerably difficult for you to face on
your own," Sydney reiterated firmly, glancing again at his patient's
trembling hands and hating the understandable look of anger on his
face.
Jarod considered what his former psychiatrist had just said, then
made his way painfully to his feet with a sick smile on his face, and
abruptly left the room.
*
Living room just off the hallway to the sun room…
"Jarod, is everything all right?" his wife asked, as he quietly made
his way past her.
"It went fine," he offered, masterfully composing himself and forcing
a gently smile. "Honey, I'm really tired. If you don't mind, I think
I'll just go to bed for a little while," he said breaking eye contact
and slowly heading up stairs.
"Andrea, let him go," Major Charles said quietly, stepping in-between
her and the stairs, knowing by his son's expression, that he had had
all he could take.
"Sydney, could I have a word with you," Major Charles
asked.
*
Patio…about 4:30 PM
"Jarod appears to be fairly stable right now, but is showing
troubling signs of stress reminiscent of those he exhibited, while
under my care at Menningers. When I tried to discuss it with him, he
completely shut me out. Major, I'm quite certain that he was deeply
traumatized by this latest incident, though I'm not sure he
appreciates the gravity of his situation. If he doesn't take
appropriate steps to lower his stress level , I'm afraid he might
suffer a relapse."
"Is there anything we can do?" Major Charles asked quietly, rubbing
his temple, hoping to stave off a horrible headache.
*
Jarod and Andrea's bedroom…
5:00 PM
"There you go. Twinkies and some cocoa," Andrea said brightly,
setting the tray beside his bedside table.
"You must think I'm a fool," Jarod said, staring at her with a frown
on his face.
"I don't understand."
"I think you do," the Pretender said, grimacing as he gingerly laid
down in bed. "I don't know what Sydney told you, but I don't need to
be medicated to get a good nights sleep."
"Jarod, he's a psychiatrist."
"And I'm anything I want to be. He's limited. He doesn't hold all the
answers. I'm all right. Trust me," he said, settling in and closing
his eyes. "I promise, that I will be there for you and our baby, no
matter what, " he said, quietly, allowing the calm to overtake him,
totally worn down and still feeling substantial pain.
"Jarod, I'm sorry I didn't mean…."
"I know," he said giving her a pat on her hand. "Just let me get a
little rest and maybe we can have a nice dinner together. Does that
sound all right to you?" he asked, barely able to keep his eyes
opened.
"If that's what you want, Jarod," she said, giving him a kiss and
arranging his covers.
"Thanks, Andi." TBC - -jemac@grapevine.net Feedback greatly
appreciated. Sorry it took over a year to get back to this - -jojarod
