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I do not own the Pretender or any of the characters. They belong to NBC, Pretender Productions, and others. I'm just borrowing them for my Pretender fanfic story. No money has changed hands. This story is purely for the entertainment of myself, and others who miss the Pretender because of blasted preemptions! Please don't sue me – I have no money. 2-1-2000
In Pursiut Of Happiness
Part 7
by jojarod50
Sydney hated meetings and this one seemed like it would never end. He was elated to finally have something positive to report about Jarod, but after that he had started counting the minutes until he could get back to work. He had forgotten about all the rules, procedures, "hospital politics", and red tape were involved in having a regular job. Suddenly his beeper went off and he gave a silent prayer of thanks, said excuse me, and headed out the door.
The psychiatrist's relief was short lived when he answered the page.
"Dr. Best, Jarod, your patient in 319, is having some kind of problem with the telephone and we need your assistance right away."
"The telephone?"
"He's trying to call the police and is highly agitated."
"I'm on my way nurse." Sydney said quickly hanging up. He skipped the elevator and headed for the stairs.
Sydney recognized Jarod's frantic voice, as he entered the room.
"Oh God, you don't understand. A lot of people are going to die, if you don't put me through of the police right now!"
Jarod was sitting on the floor, wedged between the bed and the nightstand, with the telephone in his lap. A nurse and a Respiratory Therapist were standing what they hoped was a non-threatening distance from the hysterical man. A supply cart was over near the bed. Sydney stepped around it, taking note of the green portable oxygen tank on the lower shelf of the cart.
The older man slowly walked over to the bed until he had Jarod in plan sight.
"Jarod, this is Dr. Best. I need to talk with you."
The startled young man looked up with a confused look on his face.
"But I have to make a phone call."
"Who do you want to talk to Jarod? Maybe I can help you." Sydney said in a soothing voice, stepping a bit closer.
Jarod looked back at the phone and started giving the cord little tugs, like he had done earlier with the bedspread fringe. The pretender was silent for several minutes and then slammed the phone down, got up and just stood there staring at his doctor.
"Jarod why don't you come over here and take a seat." Sydney said motioning to a couple of overstuffed chairs by the window. Jarod reluctantly complied, obviously terribly frustrated.
Sydney motioned for the Respiratory Therapist to wait a moment before wheeling his cart out of the room.
"Please don't bring your supply cart in here again unless it's absolutely necessary. I would greatly appreciate you co-operation on this matter."
"Sure, Doc, is that what set him off?"
"It's possible."
Sydney crossed the room and took a seat by his deeply troubled patient, devastated to see him lost in his psychotic world.
"Jarod, you seem to be experiencing some kind of difficulty. Would you like to talk about it?"
His patient just sat there fighting back tears. Sydney waited patiently, until Jarod regained his composure.
"Jarod, let's get you a drink of water. What do you say?"
Jarod looked up at his doctor and nodded.
"All right, now Jarod, why were you trying to call the police?"
Jarod made a few abortive jesters and then just shook his head and started fiddling with the straw in his plastic cup.
"Listen to me, Jarod. I can't help you if you shut me out. I realize things are very difficult for you right now, and I want to help."
"I can't control my thoughts." The pretender said in a very quiet defeated voice. If I go back to sleep, I'm going to totally lose control and something horrible is going to happen. I need to be locked up." Jarod gave out a small whimper and looked away.
"Jarod, what kinds of thoughts have you been having?"
"Don't you see?" Jarod said urgently, raising his voice. "If I tell you, they're going to start coming true! Please, lock me away!" Jarod pleaded, jumping up from his chair and starting to pace.
"Jarod, try to calm down. I assure you, just talking about your thoughts won't make them happen."
Jarod stopped in front of his bed and turned around to say something else, but everything started speeding up. He was having a severe anxiety attack. Jarod felt that he was loosing touch with reality, as a wave to dizziness and nausea washed over him. He hurriedly sat down on
the bed clutching the bedspread in his hands with his eyes squeezed shut, until the dizziness past. Jarod shot Sydney a frightened look and started to shake violently.
Realizing what had happened, Sydney went to him. "Jarod, are you all right?"
"Oh God, I'm tired." Jarod said rubbing his ragged face and raking his fingers through his unruly black hair. He stared down at his damaged wrists lost in thought, then quietly said," I wish I were dead."
"Jarod, are you thinking about hurting yourself?"
Jarod fell silent for several minutes as he worked the bedspread fringe giving it short little tugs. Finally, he looked up at Sydney with a dark expression shadowing his face.
"That doesn't matter."
"Jarod, it does matter. I know you. You're not a quitter. You're going to beat this thing."
Jarod searched his psychiatrist's eyes with a glimmer of hope in his expression that Sydney had not seen before.
"Help me, please; I don't know how to fight this and I'm so scared." Sydney sat by Jarod on the bed, took Jarod in his arms, and just held him.
"I will, Jarod, I promise." Sydney said, his own eyes filling with tears.
After a few minutes, Sydney got up and grabbed his chart to record a few things.
"Jarod, I'm going to increase your medication, which should give you some relief from your symptoms. I'm concerned about your lack of sleep. The night nurse has recorded not finding you asleep at any time last night or the night before. Have you been staying awake on purpose?"
Jarod just sat there with his eyes wandering around the room.
"Jarod, look at me please. There you go. You need to get your sleep. That's a very important part of the recovery process. I promise you nothing bad will happen to you if you go to sleep. Quite the contrary, the lack of sleep can and probably will be very detrimental to you. I'm going to assign one of my colleagues to keep you company at night, while you work through this."
Sydney recorded his orders on Jarod's chart and noted that his patient would continue on suicide watch until further notice.
"You've probably had enough exercise for this morning. Why don't we get your wheelchair out and you can go visit the recreation room. There's plenty of time before lunch." He said glancing at his watch. " This afternoon, you have occupational therapy. It's important for you to be out and about. I think you'll feel much better being around other people.
Jarod gave him an unsure look as he tightened the belt on his robe then looked around for his slippers.
* * *
Miss Parker struggled to contain her composure, as she watched the damning Centre record of the calculated step by step destruction of the soul she had once called her friend. Her friend? No! He was the lab rat, boy wonder, and the antagonist who relentlessly taunted her, her enemy and her assignment…. Her ticket to freedom. My God, what have I been a part of? She could no longer hold back the tears, as she watched in horror, Jarod screaming in agony before passing out. How could they have done this to him…to anyone?
"Broots, what did Lyle inject Jarod with?" Miss Parker asked trying to keep her voice steady and failing miserably.
Broots, who had been pretending to be busy at his computer, looked up to see Miss Parker completely broken. He was struggling to keep from heaving after hearing much of the DSA for the first time.
"It it wa was some kind of experimental hallucinogenic truth drug Raines cooked up. Here's the copy on that" He said handing it to her, not able to look her in the eyes.
Miss Parker scanned the report quickly, then just sat there suddenly at odds with everything she had done and believed in.
"My God, Broots, is Jarod , is he….?"
"I don't know. He he never deserved any of this." Broots said turning his swivel chair to face the window hiding the tears in his own eyes.
He could hear Miss Parker heading for the door.
"Miss P Parker," Broots said in a cautious voice. "Wh where are you going?"
Miss Parker gave him an angry glare.
"To talk to my father. Hide that damn thing and get me a lead on Jarod. Anything. And Broots, don't get caught with your pants down. I don't want anyone to know about it. You got that, Broots?"
"Ye yes mame."
"Oh and Broots, don't use that phone; it's bugged."
"Bu bugged ! Jeez!" Broots moaned burying his head in his hands.
* * *
"Come on, Jarod, let's go raid the snack machine. You have any quarters?"
"Quarters, um, I guess not." He said eyeing his new friend curiously.
"That's ok. I've got enough for both of us. Won them in last nights poker game. Hey, you won't rat on me, will ya? Nurse, "you won't have any fun on my shift," will have my ass if she finds out, and I guess you know what that means." Jarod just stared at the strange man totally intrigued.
"I don't understand."
"No more candy bars, you idiot. Are you dumb or something?" Jarod just stood there considering what the man had said, as he watched the man with the quarters take off down the hall.
"Well, don't just stand there. We have work to do." He said motioning to Jarod.
Jarod looked around and spotted his wheelchair over by the ping pong table. Smiling, he turned and hurried down the hall after the strange man as fast as his weak legs could carry him.
* * *
Miss Parker burst into her dad's office, finding him busy going through a stack of Centre files.
"Angel, what brings you up here? Any leads on Jarod yet?"
"No, and the file Broots has me working from is full of holes. Since when am I expected to work from censored Centre files on Jarod?"
"Here, let me see that." Mr. Parker said grabbing the file out of his daughter's hand and leafing through it quickly.
"Well, I don't see any problem here. This is just background information, which is irrelevant at this point. You should be pinning down his location, not worrying about this. What do you want to know anyway?" He asked distractedly, picking up the next file from his working pile.
"I want to know what kind of condition he's in and how he got away. How the hell are we supposed to speculate on his location without that? And if you think Broots has any special information about where he went, think again. Without Sydney, I really don't have much to work with."
"Ok, I see what you mean. Well, let's see. Jarod escaped from a Centre plane crash and was taken to a hospital where he later escaped again. I think Sydney was responsible for that."
"Was Jarod injured in the plane crash?"
"Hell if I know. I heard he'd been doing drugs. What a waste. Just goes to show you even a genius can get caught up in that sort of thing."
"Drugs? How messed up is he daddy?"
"It doesn't really matter. Even if he were brain dead, we'd still have uses for him. Now, be a good girl and go bring Jarod back. I know I can count on you, Angel. Sorry, I've got a lot of work to do." He said, basically dismissing her.
Miss Parker gave her dad a nod, picked up her file and headed out the door before she said anything she would later regret.
* * *
She only got halfway to the elevation before she stopped dead in her tracks. He lied right to my face she thought seething with anger. Even if he were brain dead, we'd still have uses for him? I should have stopped him right there on that one.
Turning on her heel, Miss Parker headed back to her father's office only to stop at the door overhearing a heated argument inside.
* * *
"You didn't have any problem ordering your wife's death, when she became a threat to the Centre, and you know good and well that your daughter is not going to be cooperative once she figures out what really happened to Jarod. For Christ's sake Parker, you know she's no fool. She's one of the red files."
"Damn you, Mutumbo."
"Watch your step. I'll excuse your emotionalism just this once. You have your orders. Maybe you should have Mr. Lyle handle it. He has access to Mr. White any time he needs him. It'd be a good test of his loyalty."
* * *
Miss Parker headed back down the hall, as quickly and quietly as she could, thanking God no one was around to see her. Once on the elevator, she leaned against the wall struggling to catch her breath, her heart pounding out of control.
In a state of shock, she hurried back to her office, and found Broots downloading something off his computer.
"Broots, get anything important you can carry, we've got to get out of here now. Don't act suspicious, just act like we have a lead on Jarod we're going to track down."
"What's th?"
"Shut up, Broots. Two minutes and we're out of here."
One look at Miss Parker's eyes, was all he needed. Grabbing a few crucial things and stuffing them in his backpack, he left with Miss Parker without saying a word.
Part 7
by jojarod50
Sydney hated meetings and this one seemed like it would never end. He was elated to finally have something positive to report about Jarod, but after that he had started counting the minutes until he could get back to work. He had forgotten about all the rules, procedures, "hospital politics", and red tape were involved in having a regular job. Suddenly his beeper went off and he gave a silent prayer of thanks, said excuse me, and headed out the door.
The psychiatrist's relief was short lived when he answered the page.
"Dr. Best, Jarod, your patient in 319, is having some kind of problem with the telephone and we need your assistance right away."
"The telephone?"
"He's trying to call the police and is highly agitated."
"I'm on my way nurse." Sydney said quickly hanging up. He skipped the elevator and headed for the stairs.
Sydney recognized Jarod's frantic voice, as he entered the room.
"Oh God, you don't understand. A lot of people are going to die, if you don't put me through of the police right now!"
Jarod was sitting on the floor, wedged between the bed and the nightstand, with the telephone in his lap. A nurse and a Respiratory Therapist were standing what they hoped was a non-threatening distance from the hysterical man. A supply cart was over near the bed. Sydney stepped around it, taking note of the green portable oxygen tank on the lower shelf of the cart.
The older man slowly walked over to the bed until he had Jarod in plan sight.
"Jarod, this is Dr. Best. I need to talk with you."
The startled young man looked up with a confused look on his face.
"But I have to make a phone call."
"Who do you want to talk to Jarod? Maybe I can help you." Sydney said in a soothing voice, stepping a bit closer.
Jarod looked back at the phone and started giving the cord little tugs, like he had done earlier with the bedspread fringe. The pretender was silent for several minutes and then slammed the phone down, got up and just stood there staring at his doctor.
"Jarod why don't you come over here and take a seat." Sydney said motioning to a couple of overstuffed chairs by the window. Jarod reluctantly complied, obviously terribly frustrated.
Sydney motioned for the Respiratory Therapist to wait a moment before wheeling his cart out of the room.
"Please don't bring your supply cart in here again unless it's absolutely necessary. I would greatly appreciate you co-operation on this matter."
"Sure, Doc, is that what set him off?"
"It's possible."
Sydney crossed the room and took a seat by his deeply troubled patient, devastated to see him lost in his psychotic world.
"Jarod, you seem to be experiencing some kind of difficulty. Would you like to talk about it?"
His patient just sat there fighting back tears. Sydney waited patiently, until Jarod regained his composure.
"Jarod, let's get you a drink of water. What do you say?"
Jarod looked up at his doctor and nodded.
"All right, now Jarod, why were you trying to call the police?"
Jarod made a few abortive jesters and then just shook his head and started fiddling with the straw in his plastic cup.
"Listen to me, Jarod. I can't help you if you shut me out. I realize things are very difficult for you right now, and I want to help."
"I can't control my thoughts." The pretender said in a very quiet defeated voice. If I go back to sleep, I'm going to totally lose control and something horrible is going to happen. I need to be locked up." Jarod gave out a small whimper and looked away.
"Jarod, what kinds of thoughts have you been having?"
"Don't you see?" Jarod said urgently, raising his voice. "If I tell you, they're going to start coming true! Please, lock me away!" Jarod pleaded, jumping up from his chair and starting to pace.
"Jarod, try to calm down. I assure you, just talking about your thoughts won't make them happen."
Jarod stopped in front of his bed and turned around to say something else, but everything started speeding up. He was having a severe anxiety attack. Jarod felt that he was loosing touch with reality, as a wave to dizziness and nausea washed over him. He hurriedly sat down on
the bed clutching the bedspread in his hands with his eyes squeezed shut, until the dizziness past. Jarod shot Sydney a frightened look and started to shake violently.
Realizing what had happened, Sydney went to him. "Jarod, are you all right?"
"Oh God, I'm tired." Jarod said rubbing his ragged face and raking his fingers through his unruly black hair. He stared down at his damaged wrists lost in thought, then quietly said," I wish I were dead."
"Jarod, are you thinking about hurting yourself?"
Jarod fell silent for several minutes as he worked the bedspread fringe giving it short little tugs. Finally, he looked up at Sydney with a dark expression shadowing his face.
"That doesn't matter."
"Jarod, it does matter. I know you. You're not a quitter. You're going to beat this thing."
Jarod searched his psychiatrist's eyes with a glimmer of hope in his expression that Sydney had not seen before.
"Help me, please; I don't know how to fight this and I'm so scared." Sydney sat by Jarod on the bed, took Jarod in his arms, and just held him.
"I will, Jarod, I promise." Sydney said, his own eyes filling with tears.
After a few minutes, Sydney got up and grabbed his chart to record a few things.
"Jarod, I'm going to increase your medication, which should give you some relief from your symptoms. I'm concerned about your lack of sleep. The night nurse has recorded not finding you asleep at any time last night or the night before. Have you been staying awake on purpose?"
Jarod just sat there with his eyes wandering around the room.
"Jarod, look at me please. There you go. You need to get your sleep. That's a very important part of the recovery process. I promise you nothing bad will happen to you if you go to sleep. Quite the contrary, the lack of sleep can and probably will be very detrimental to you. I'm going to assign one of my colleagues to keep you company at night, while you work through this."
Sydney recorded his orders on Jarod's chart and noted that his patient would continue on suicide watch until further notice.
"You've probably had enough exercise for this morning. Why don't we get your wheelchair out and you can go visit the recreation room. There's plenty of time before lunch." He said glancing at his watch. " This afternoon, you have occupational therapy. It's important for you to be out and about. I think you'll feel much better being around other people.
Jarod gave him an unsure look as he tightened the belt on his robe then looked around for his slippers.
* * *
Miss Parker struggled to contain her composure, as she watched the damning Centre record of the calculated step by step destruction of the soul she had once called her friend. Her friend? No! He was the lab rat, boy wonder, and the antagonist who relentlessly taunted her, her enemy and her assignment…. Her ticket to freedom. My God, what have I been a part of? She could no longer hold back the tears, as she watched in horror, Jarod screaming in agony before passing out. How could they have done this to him…to anyone?
"Broots, what did Lyle inject Jarod with?" Miss Parker asked trying to keep her voice steady and failing miserably.
Broots, who had been pretending to be busy at his computer, looked up to see Miss Parker completely broken. He was struggling to keep from heaving after hearing much of the DSA for the first time.
"It it wa was some kind of experimental hallucinogenic truth drug Raines cooked up. Here's the copy on that" He said handing it to her, not able to look her in the eyes.
Miss Parker scanned the report quickly, then just sat there suddenly at odds with everything she had done and believed in.
"My God, Broots, is Jarod , is he….?"
"I don't know. He he never deserved any of this." Broots said turning his swivel chair to face the window hiding the tears in his own eyes.
He could hear Miss Parker heading for the door.
"Miss P Parker," Broots said in a cautious voice. "Wh where are you going?"
Miss Parker gave him an angry glare.
"To talk to my father. Hide that damn thing and get me a lead on Jarod. Anything. And Broots, don't get caught with your pants down. I don't want anyone to know about it. You got that, Broots?"
"Ye yes mame."
"Oh and Broots, don't use that phone; it's bugged."
"Bu bugged ! Jeez!" Broots moaned burying his head in his hands.
* * *
"Come on, Jarod, let's go raid the snack machine. You have any quarters?"
"Quarters, um, I guess not." He said eyeing his new friend curiously.
"That's ok. I've got enough for both of us. Won them in last nights poker game. Hey, you won't rat on me, will ya? Nurse, "you won't have any fun on my shift," will have my ass if she finds out, and I guess you know what that means." Jarod just stared at the strange man totally intrigued.
"I don't understand."
"No more candy bars, you idiot. Are you dumb or something?" Jarod just stood there considering what the man had said, as he watched the man with the quarters take off down the hall.
"Well, don't just stand there. We have work to do." He said motioning to Jarod.
Jarod looked around and spotted his wheelchair over by the ping pong table. Smiling, he turned and hurried down the hall after the strange man as fast as his weak legs could carry him.
* * *
Miss Parker burst into her dad's office, finding him busy going through a stack of Centre files.
"Angel, what brings you up here? Any leads on Jarod yet?"
"No, and the file Broots has me working from is full of holes. Since when am I expected to work from censored Centre files on Jarod?"
"Here, let me see that." Mr. Parker said grabbing the file out of his daughter's hand and leafing through it quickly.
"Well, I don't see any problem here. This is just background information, which is irrelevant at this point. You should be pinning down his location, not worrying about this. What do you want to know anyway?" He asked distractedly, picking up the next file from his working pile.
"I want to know what kind of condition he's in and how he got away. How the hell are we supposed to speculate on his location without that? And if you think Broots has any special information about where he went, think again. Without Sydney, I really don't have much to work with."
"Ok, I see what you mean. Well, let's see. Jarod escaped from a Centre plane crash and was taken to a hospital where he later escaped again. I think Sydney was responsible for that."
"Was Jarod injured in the plane crash?"
"Hell if I know. I heard he'd been doing drugs. What a waste. Just goes to show you even a genius can get caught up in that sort of thing."
"Drugs? How messed up is he daddy?"
"It doesn't really matter. Even if he were brain dead, we'd still have uses for him. Now, be a good girl and go bring Jarod back. I know I can count on you, Angel. Sorry, I've got a lot of work to do." He said, basically dismissing her.
Miss Parker gave her dad a nod, picked up her file and headed out the door before she said anything she would later regret.
* * *
She only got halfway to the elevation before she stopped dead in her tracks. He lied right to my face she thought seething with anger. Even if he were brain dead, we'd still have uses for him? I should have stopped him right there on that one.
Turning on her heel, Miss Parker headed back to her father's office only to stop at the door overhearing a heated argument inside.
* * *
"You didn't have any problem ordering your wife's death, when she became a threat to the Centre, and you know good and well that your daughter is not going to be cooperative once she figures out what really happened to Jarod. For Christ's sake Parker, you know she's no fool. She's one of the red files."
"Damn you, Mutumbo."
"Watch your step. I'll excuse your emotionalism just this once. You have your orders. Maybe you should have Mr. Lyle handle it. He has access to Mr. White any time he needs him. It'd be a good test of his loyalty."
* * *
Miss Parker headed back down the hall, as quickly and quietly as she could, thanking God no one was around to see her. Once on the elevator, she leaned against the wall struggling to catch her breath, her heart pounding out of control.
In a state of shock, she hurried back to her office, and found Broots downloading something off his computer.
"Broots, get anything important you can carry, we've got to get out of here now. Don't act suspicious, just act like we have a lead on Jarod we're going to track down."
"What's th?"
"Shut up, Broots. Two minutes and we're out of here."
One look at Miss Parker's eyes, was all he needed. Grabbing a few crucial things and stuffing them in his backpack, he left with Miss Parker without saying a word.
