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Chapter or Story 
Chapter or Story
Disclaimer: The Characters Miss Parker, Sydney, Jarod, Broots and The Center are all property of MTM, TNT and NBC Productions and are used without permission. If I owed them we'd still be watching new episodes.yadda yadda yadda :P
One Good Turn Part 6
Waking Up
By Phenyx
Parker sat curled in a cushioned chair next to the bed. She had tried to flip through an ancient magazine that she had found on a shelf. But the articles held little of interest for her. Her attire consisted of jeans and a sweatshirt. Simple white canvas shoes covered her feet. She wrapped a quilted fleece cardigan around her to ward off the slight chill she imagined in the room.
The place was comfortable enough Parker had to admit. The cabin was located in an isolated valley on the south west side of the Appalachian Mountains. They hadn't had any trouble renting it. Though spring hung tantalizingly in the air, it wasn't quite time for the tourists to invade the forests just yet.
Sydney had been the one to get them into the cabin. Armed with a phony identification card and a wad of cash, Sydney had been the only one of this little band that had been seen by the landlord. He'd gone into town for food and supplies on his own as well. As far as the locals were aware, the only occupant of the lonely cabin was a solitary older gentleman who wanted to be left alone so that he could write a novel.
So far, the ruse was working nicely. Sydney had been amazingly well prepared for their abrupt departure from Delaware two days ago. As the group had driven east, they had stopped briefly in Charleston, West Virginia where Sydney secretly had a safety deposit box in one of the area banks. It was there that he had retrieved several identification cards and an eye-boggling briefcase full of currency.
Well-funded and stocked with supplies, they had begun their life in hiding, choosing this rural wooded setting for their first lair. The cabin wasn't large. The log house only contained four rooms. The largest of these was a wide, open area that held the kitchen along one wall and a combined dining and living area in the rest of the space. There was no television, much to Debbie's dismay, but a welcoming fireplace was the focal point of this big room.
There were two bedrooms with a total of only three beds. The couch in the living area made for a manageable fourth sleeping area but there were six people in this group. Even so, the sleeping arrangements hadn't become a problem yet. Parker spent her nights propped in the chair where she now sat. Angelo seemed content to sprawl on the floor wherever he happened to be when got tired. Sydney had claimed the couch and Broots shared the bunk beds in the second bedroom with his daughter.
Thankfully, each bedroom came equipped with its own bathroom, making the logistics of living with such a large group a bit easier.
Jarod lay unconscious in the queen-sized bed in the master bedroom. Parker had spent the last two days, painstakingly getting fluid into Jarod's body. Using a clean cloth, she squeezed water into his mouth one drop at a time. Jarod had been frighteningly unresponsive most of the time.
Parker was worried. Jarod's condition was much worse than they had first assumed. When they'd brought him here and settled him into the bed, Jarod had been wracked with fever. In an effort to cool him down, they had removed the inmate gray clothes and sponged Jarod's skin with cooling water. Parker had massaged the pretender's flesh again and again. As a result, she'd had the opportunity to inventory every tear and bruise on Jarod's body. His lower lip had been split open and there was a yellowing bruise around one eye. Parker found healing slash marks crisscrossing Jarod's back. Caressing these scabs with her fingertips, Parker realized that Jarod had been whipped and she was glad that she hadn't watched the rest of the DSA recordings. Splayed over Jarod's ribs on his right side was an ugly deep purple contusion so large that together, both of Parker's hands could not cover the spot.
Despite these physical signs of abuse, it was the agonizing pain of withdrawal that concerned Miss Parker the most. Jarod's lean form shivered constantly. Once Parker had gotten enough water in his body to re-hydrate it, Jarod's skin turned clammy with sweat. He tossed back and forth and often mumbled incoherently.
For nearly two days, Jarod had been unconscious and seemed unaware of his surroundings. Parker had been stunned several hours ago when Jarod had suddenly grabbed her. She had been trying to give Jarod water at the time. She was dipping her fingers into the water and then smoothing the droplets onto his dry, cracked lips. Without warning, Jarod had reached out and yanked her toward him. Jarod had sucked at her fingertips greedily while Parker stared at him in shock.
Several seconds had passed as she watched him with detached fascination. Realizing his need, Parker had lifted a full glass of water to Jarod's lips and held him as he drank. Groping blindly, Jarod had contorted with pain as a spasm gripped him. He had fallen back into unconsciousness and had barely moved since.
Jarod began to toss and turn, twisting the sheets around him. Meaningless, nonsense words tumbled from his mouth as Jarod flinched and frowned in his sleep.
Parker moved to sit beside him on the bed. Taking the bowl of water, Parker used her fingers to drip more fluid between Jarod's lips.
"Jarod?" Parker asked softly as he began to thrash about more vigorously. "It's okay, Jarod. You are going to be fine." Miss Parker refused to acknowledge any possibility that Jarod would not recover.
The frown on Jarod's face became more pronounced and his lower lip pouted with a quiver. Clenching his muscles into tight bunches the pretender seemed to be cringing, collapsing into a smaller space.
With a petulant whimper Jarod spoke. "I wanna go home." He whined in a small voice.
Parker reached for a washcloth on the end table. She wet the rag and wrung it out before placing the cool cloth against Jarod's brow. "Hush now." Parker whispered. She brushed the long hair from Jarod's forehead in a calming gesture.
"My froat hurts." He said in a slurred voice.
"Go back to sleep, Jarod." She said gently. "You'll feel better after you sleep a while longer."
Jarod's chocolate brown eyes opened for a moment. Unfocused and glazed, the pretender's eyes did not see anything that was actually in the room. Parker could tell that he was awake but not exactly conscious.
His lip trembled and he moaned in a sniveling voice, "I wanna go home, now." Jarod sniffed. "My froat hurts." One hand fluttered to his neck and Jarod winced painfully as he swallowed.
Parker suddenly realized where Jarod's delirium had taken him. Centre records indicated that Jarod had come to The Centre with no tonsils. They had been removed when Jarod was very young, long before he had been taken from his parents. Evidently, Jarod's fevered mind was reliving the immediate aftermath of his tonsillectomy.
"Sshh." Parker said as she stroked her fingers though his hair in a soothing motion. "You need to sleep now, Jarod. When you wake up you can have ice cream." She added with a small smile.
The promise of ice cream seemed to calm him for a moment. "Where is my blanket?" He asked demandingly.
Parker frowned in confusion. "What blanket?"
Jarod's eyelids drifted shut and he sighed. "It has cowboys on it."
Parker smiled. In her mind, a picture formed of the child Jarod had once been. She imagined a bright, precocious little boy with big sparkling brown eyes, long dark lashes and an irresistible grin. His intelligence and creativity had probably made him far too curious for his own good. The child's poor mother had probably had a devil of a time keeping Jarod occupied. And Parker knew from first hand experience what a pain in the ass he could be when Jarod got bored.
The knowledge that Jarod had once been attached to some sort of security blanket added another layer of charm to the mental image.
Jarod began to toss about and whimper frantically about the missing blanket from so long ago.
Parker looked around for some substitute. The best she could do was the fleece jacket she wore. Quickly removing the garment, Parker handed the soft quilted fabric to Jarod.
"Here's your blanket, Jarod." She said gently, brushing the soft cloth against his cheek.
Jarod obediently accepted the jacket and clutched it possessively under his chin.
"Sleep now." Parker hushed.
Jarod curled on his side and slipped into fitful unconsciousness. Parker smiled slyly at the sleeping form as she rubbed calming circles on his back. Jarod's childhood security blanket was a wonderful little piece of knowledge.
A light rapping came at the door as Sydney entered the room.
"How is he?" the older man asked.
Parker shook her head. "He's hallucinating." She answered.
A small smile still softened Parker's face prompting Sydney to ask, "Is something amusing you, Miss Parker?"
"No." She denied. Parker didn't want to share the small secret she'd just learned about Jarod. She wanted to hold this information close and cherish it for a while.
Sydney didn't push the issue. "He looks like he's moved around quite a bit." Sydney observed.
Parker nodded. "He's thrashing around a lot." She brushed her fingertips across Jarod's brow.
Sydney settled into the chair Parker had recently vacated. He watched her as she fussed over Jarod. Sydney found it interesting that Miss Parker, of all people, would take such close charge of Jarod's convalescence. She had barely left this room for the past forty-eight hours. Parker rarely allowed anyone else to tend the insensate pretender.
Watching her now, Sydney noted how Parker perched on the bed at Jarod's side. Under the guise of cooling his face, Parker repeatedly caressed Jarod's forehead and cheeks with the dampened cloth. She showed a tenderness and compassion with her patient that Sydney had not realized she was capable of expressing.
Together the two of them sat quietly watching over Jarod. They shared a look of concern as Jarod's tossing worsened. After nearly an hour, Jarod's thrashing abruptly stilled. His breathing became very slow and deep. The pretender's total stillness was eerily quiet after he'd been kicking at the sheets for so long. The silence was deafening.
For long minutes, the room was completely silent except for the deep rhythmic breathing of the bed's occupant. Suddenly, even those sounds ceased as Jarod exhaled and there was no responding inhalation.
"Sydney?" Parker cried. "I don't think he's breathing!"
Sydney sprang from the chair and moved to Jarod's bedside. Grabbing the unmoving form by the shoulders, he shook Jarod hard. "Jarod!" Sydney yelled.
Parker shoved the older man aside and put her ear to Jarod's chest to listen. She felt a shuddering in the pretender's body and for a split second she thought they were experiencing an earthquake. Parker quickly realized that it was Jarod's body that was trembling.
With a huge gasp, Jarod's body arched off the bed as if he were suffering from an electrical shock. Then his arms and legs began to flop around uncontrollably. Convulsions shook Jarod's body and he twitched violently.
"He's having a seizure!" Sydney said. "Help me get him on his side to keep his tongue from blocking the airway."
With Parker sitting on one side and Sydney on the other, they pushed Jarod onto his right side. The grotesque spasms that shook Jarod's frame served to throw him onto his back. Parker shoved him onto his side again and pressed her body against his shoulder in order to hold Jarod in place.
A low-pitched keening moan came from Jarod's throat as his body convulsed. Parker, effectively holding him down, put her arms around Jarod and began talking calmly to him.
"You're going to be alright, Jarod." Parker soothed. "Just hang on and ride it out. Just ride it out." Parker continued talking in a normal conversational tone. "You're in withdrawal. It will pass. Just ride it out." She repeated.
Just over one minute later, the seizure began to dissipate. The violent shuddering transformed into a mere occasional twitch and then finally stopped altogether. Jarod lay panting and drenched in sweat in the aftermath of the spasms.
Watery brown eyes opened blearily, rolled about for a moment, looked up at Miss Parker and focused on her face.
Parker could see the recognition on Jarod's face and the confusion that followed it. He tried to speak but couldn't seem to find the strength. All he could manage was a faint, whispered, "Ggaa"
"Hey there, you." Parker whispered. Wetting the rag again, she used it to pat the salty dampness from Jarod's face and upper torso. "Welcome back to the land of the living."
Jarod sighed. As Parker rubbed the cool cloth down his arm, Jarod reached out and weakly grabbed her hand with his own. He pulled her hand to his chest and placed it over his heart, clasping both of his palms over the top of it meaningfully.
Parker smiled gently in understanding. "I'm glad to see you too, Rat."
Sydney watched them silently. Parker sat quietly at Jarod's side as he drifted into a deep sleep with her hand still clutched to his chest. Sydney had always known that his two younger friends shared a special connection. It was this link between them that made Parker so efficient at pursuing the pretender. But until this moment, Sydney had not really understood the depths of this bond. The softness on Parker's face during this unguarded moment betrayed her feelings for Jarod. She cared deeply for him. Sydney wondered at how well Parker had been able to hide this from them all at The Centre. Perhaps the only way she had hidden these emotions was to deny they existed, even to her self.
During his musings, Sydney sighed in amazement at this revelation. Parker caught the movement out of the corner of her eye. As though she had just remembered the older man's presence, Parker's posture suddenly straightened. She slowly removed her hand from Jarod's chest. The look of tenderness that had softened her face disappeared and the guarded hardness that Sydney was accustomed to returned.
Sensing Parker's discomfort, Sydney cleared his throat and said, "I'll start heating some soup. Next time he wakes we should try to get him to eat a little broth."
Parker nodded in agreement and made no further comment.
Sydney left quickly and quietly.
The next three days passed in a blur for Jarod. Brief periods of consciousness were scattered among much longer stretches of heavy, recuperative slumber. He had hazy memories of being fed. The simple broth spooned into his mouth at first felt like hot bricks on his stomach and Jarod could remember throwing up at one point. But with the patience of Job, the fluids were poured down his throat, one spoonful at a time. Hot soup and cool water trickled into him until his body reacquainted itself with the concept of food and the sick retching feeling went away.
An odd rumbling sound woke Jarod. He blinked at the ceiling for several minutes and tried to remember where he was and how he had gotten there. Other than knowing he had been ill, Jarod could recall very little. He had seen Miss Parker, of that he was sure. She was alive. She had smiled at him.
Looking around the room Jarod found that he was alone. Outside, rain pelted the curtained window furiously. Lightning flashed, followed closely by another rumble of thunder. The light in the room was gloomy due to the storm, making it difficult for Jarod to determine the time of day.
Quickly deciding on a course of action, Jarod threw back the sheets covering him and tried to sit up. Clutching at the headboard, Jarod squeezed his eyes shut tight as the room spun frantically. It took several minutes for the wave of dizziness to pass.
Realizing that he was naked, Jarod pushed himself to his feet and stumbled awkwardly across the room to the bureau. Praying that he would find something he could wear, Jarod yanked open one of the drawers. As weak as he was, this simple effort was almost too much for him. Thanking the fates that seemed to look over his life, Jarod removed a pair of jeans and a cotton shirt from the drawer.
Pulling on the jeans was another nearly impossible task. Jarod spend several minutes in the process and had to lie back on the bed to rest when he'd finished. Slipping his arms into the shirtsleeves, he didn't bother with the buttons. Barefoot, with his shirttails flapping, Jarod delicately made his way to the door.
Fully expecting the door to be locked, Jarod was somewhat surprised to find that the knob turned easily in his hands. Opening the portal slowly, he peeked into the next room. There was a large open area with a kitchen situated along one wall. On the opposite side of the room was a comfortable looking sofa that faced a large fireplace. To one side, there was a round wooden table and several chairs.
To Jarod's dismay, around this table sat the three Centre employees who had been pursuing him for the last six years. Parker, Sydney and Broots each sat at one side of the round table. At the forth spot, Jarod was surprised to see Broots' little girl Debbie. The entire group had their attention focused on a game board and tiles arranged between them. From this distance, Jarod couldn't be sure but the game looked like Scrabble.
Jarod knew that in his current condition, he would not be able to outrun even Debbie. But if he could move quietly enough, perhaps he could sneak along the wall and be out the front door before they realized it.
Supporting himself with the wall it his back, Jarod crept across the room. Growing weaker with every step, Jarod forced himself to move. When Broots glanced up at the pretender in surprise, Jarod froze in sudden panic.
Broots began to rise from his chair but Miss Parker, seemingly intent upon her game pieces, held a hand up in a halting gesture.
"Sit down, Broots." Parker said calmly. "He needs to figure out what's going on." The rest of the group looked up at Jarod curiously for a moment until Parker said. "Debbie, it is your turn."
To Jarod's wide-eyed shock, his captors simply returned to their game, ignoring his attempt to escape. The pretender did not question his luck. He staggered across the last few yards to the door and tugged it open.
Pushing himself off the doorframe and through the open doorway, Jarod found himself standing on an old wooden porch. A painted white railing framed the area and old-fashioned carved posts held up the roof. Rain beat down heavily on the wooden structure making a rhythmic almost hypnotic sound on the shingles. The air was heavy and warm. The day would have been uncomfortably hot if not for the breeze that gusted by with the storm.
Another flash of lightning brightened the sky. The thunder that rolled by in its aftermath was delayed several seconds. When the deep booming sound did come, Jarod's attention was dragged to another figure on the porch. Laughing and clapping with glee at the sound of the thunder, was Angelo.
The shock at seeing his old friend in such an innocuous place was too much for Jarod's fragile condition. His legs gave out from under him and he sat down on the wooden planks with a hard thud. Blinking at the other man in shock, Jarod frowned in confusion.
"Rain, rain, rain, rain." Angelo sang tunelessly. He was sitting on the white railing with one hand wrapped around a wooden post. Swinging back and forth, Angelo would lean way back and allow the raindrops to fall onto his upturned face. Pulling him self back upright, the strange little man would rock under the protection of the porch roof and let the water run down his face to fall from his chin.
Exhausted from his brief escapade out of bed, Jarod stopped trying to make sense out of the situation and lay down on the floor where he sat. He listened to the drumming sound of the rain on the roof and smiled at Angelo's constant singsong chattering nonsense. The warm spring air lifted his hair as Jarod closed his eyes and permitted himself to enjoy the shear pleasure of the moment.
Though the sounds around him did not change, Jarod knew exactly when Parker sat silently beside him. He felt his body tense up, preparing for flight but Jarod had reached the end of his meager endurance. He would not be able to get away today. He resigned himself to that fact.
Eyes still closed, Jarod spoke. "I'm glad you're okay." He said softly.
Much to his surprise, a soft hand rested on Jarod's forehead for a moment as Parker checked his temperature. "I'm glad you're okay too." She said. "You had me worried for a while."
"Gee Parker, I didn't know you cared." Jarod teased gently.
"Yes you did." Parker whispered into his ear.
Jarod wanted to look at her, to study Parker's face and see if she really meant what she was saying. But he was weary. The hand that had rested so tenderly on his forehead now stroked through the hair on one side of his head. The feeling was almost magical and Jarod was loath to open his eyes for fear that she would pull away if he looked at her too closely.
They sat that way for a while. Jarod lying on the wood floor while Parker ran soothing fingers through his hair. Jarod drifted to sleep briefly and when he woke, the rain had stopped and Angelo had vanished. Jarod blinked his eyes open and looked up to see Parker smiling at him.
"Are you hungry?" she asked.
As if in response to her query, Jarod's gut clenched painfully, twisted around and then growled loudly.
Parker's smile grew and she laughed. "I'll take that as a yes." She chuckled.
Jarod stared at her in wonder. Parker seemed so relaxed, so unguarded. Jarod could not remember seeing her smile like that since they were children. For the first time in a very long time, his urge to run from her disappeared.
"It's Broots' turn to cook so I can't vouch for the quality, but diner is just about ready." Parker said. "Let me help you up." She added as she stood and held a hand out to him.
After several attempts, Jarod was able to stand. With one arm slung over Parker's shoulders for support, he began to make his way across the porch and into the cabin. As they reached the door and Parker held it open for him, Jarod glanced at her with a look of wary speculation.
Parker grinned crookedly at the look of befuddled wonder on Jarod's face. "This is all a little weird isn't it?"
Jarod nodded. "I feel like Alice right after she tumbled down the rabbit hole."
This comment brought another delightful peal of laughter from Parker. Jarod immediately decided that making her laugh was the single most rewarding thing he'd ever done.
"Come on, Alice." Parker said in a wry tone. "Let's eat."
With a mental shrug, Jarod allowed Miss Parker to help him back into the house.
One Good Turn Part 6
Waking Up
By Phenyx
Parker sat curled in a cushioned chair next to the bed. She had tried to flip through an ancient magazine that she had found on a shelf. But the articles held little of interest for her. Her attire consisted of jeans and a sweatshirt. Simple white canvas shoes covered her feet. She wrapped a quilted fleece cardigan around her to ward off the slight chill she imagined in the room.
The place was comfortable enough Parker had to admit. The cabin was located in an isolated valley on the south west side of the Appalachian Mountains. They hadn't had any trouble renting it. Though spring hung tantalizingly in the air, it wasn't quite time for the tourists to invade the forests just yet.
Sydney had been the one to get them into the cabin. Armed with a phony identification card and a wad of cash, Sydney had been the only one of this little band that had been seen by the landlord. He'd gone into town for food and supplies on his own as well. As far as the locals were aware, the only occupant of the lonely cabin was a solitary older gentleman who wanted to be left alone so that he could write a novel.
So far, the ruse was working nicely. Sydney had been amazingly well prepared for their abrupt departure from Delaware two days ago. As the group had driven east, they had stopped briefly in Charleston, West Virginia where Sydney secretly had a safety deposit box in one of the area banks. It was there that he had retrieved several identification cards and an eye-boggling briefcase full of currency.
Well-funded and stocked with supplies, they had begun their life in hiding, choosing this rural wooded setting for their first lair. The cabin wasn't large. The log house only contained four rooms. The largest of these was a wide, open area that held the kitchen along one wall and a combined dining and living area in the rest of the space. There was no television, much to Debbie's dismay, but a welcoming fireplace was the focal point of this big room.
There were two bedrooms with a total of only three beds. The couch in the living area made for a manageable fourth sleeping area but there were six people in this group. Even so, the sleeping arrangements hadn't become a problem yet. Parker spent her nights propped in the chair where she now sat. Angelo seemed content to sprawl on the floor wherever he happened to be when got tired. Sydney had claimed the couch and Broots shared the bunk beds in the second bedroom with his daughter.
Thankfully, each bedroom came equipped with its own bathroom, making the logistics of living with such a large group a bit easier.
Jarod lay unconscious in the queen-sized bed in the master bedroom. Parker had spent the last two days, painstakingly getting fluid into Jarod's body. Using a clean cloth, she squeezed water into his mouth one drop at a time. Jarod had been frighteningly unresponsive most of the time.
Parker was worried. Jarod's condition was much worse than they had first assumed. When they'd brought him here and settled him into the bed, Jarod had been wracked with fever. In an effort to cool him down, they had removed the inmate gray clothes and sponged Jarod's skin with cooling water. Parker had massaged the pretender's flesh again and again. As a result, she'd had the opportunity to inventory every tear and bruise on Jarod's body. His lower lip had been split open and there was a yellowing bruise around one eye. Parker found healing slash marks crisscrossing Jarod's back. Caressing these scabs with her fingertips, Parker realized that Jarod had been whipped and she was glad that she hadn't watched the rest of the DSA recordings. Splayed over Jarod's ribs on his right side was an ugly deep purple contusion so large that together, both of Parker's hands could not cover the spot.
Despite these physical signs of abuse, it was the agonizing pain of withdrawal that concerned Miss Parker the most. Jarod's lean form shivered constantly. Once Parker had gotten enough water in his body to re-hydrate it, Jarod's skin turned clammy with sweat. He tossed back and forth and often mumbled incoherently.
For nearly two days, Jarod had been unconscious and seemed unaware of his surroundings. Parker had been stunned several hours ago when Jarod had suddenly grabbed her. She had been trying to give Jarod water at the time. She was dipping her fingers into the water and then smoothing the droplets onto his dry, cracked lips. Without warning, Jarod had reached out and yanked her toward him. Jarod had sucked at her fingertips greedily while Parker stared at him in shock.
Several seconds had passed as she watched him with detached fascination. Realizing his need, Parker had lifted a full glass of water to Jarod's lips and held him as he drank. Groping blindly, Jarod had contorted with pain as a spasm gripped him. He had fallen back into unconsciousness and had barely moved since.
Jarod began to toss and turn, twisting the sheets around him. Meaningless, nonsense words tumbled from his mouth as Jarod flinched and frowned in his sleep.
Parker moved to sit beside him on the bed. Taking the bowl of water, Parker used her fingers to drip more fluid between Jarod's lips.
"Jarod?" Parker asked softly as he began to thrash about more vigorously. "It's okay, Jarod. You are going to be fine." Miss Parker refused to acknowledge any possibility that Jarod would not recover.
The frown on Jarod's face became more pronounced and his lower lip pouted with a quiver. Clenching his muscles into tight bunches the pretender seemed to be cringing, collapsing into a smaller space.
With a petulant whimper Jarod spoke. "I wanna go home." He whined in a small voice.
Parker reached for a washcloth on the end table. She wet the rag and wrung it out before placing the cool cloth against Jarod's brow. "Hush now." Parker whispered. She brushed the long hair from Jarod's forehead in a calming gesture.
"My froat hurts." He said in a slurred voice.
"Go back to sleep, Jarod." She said gently. "You'll feel better after you sleep a while longer."
Jarod's chocolate brown eyes opened for a moment. Unfocused and glazed, the pretender's eyes did not see anything that was actually in the room. Parker could tell that he was awake but not exactly conscious.
His lip trembled and he moaned in a sniveling voice, "I wanna go home, now." Jarod sniffed. "My froat hurts." One hand fluttered to his neck and Jarod winced painfully as he swallowed.
Parker suddenly realized where Jarod's delirium had taken him. Centre records indicated that Jarod had come to The Centre with no tonsils. They had been removed when Jarod was very young, long before he had been taken from his parents. Evidently, Jarod's fevered mind was reliving the immediate aftermath of his tonsillectomy.
"Sshh." Parker said as she stroked her fingers though his hair in a soothing motion. "You need to sleep now, Jarod. When you wake up you can have ice cream." She added with a small smile.
The promise of ice cream seemed to calm him for a moment. "Where is my blanket?" He asked demandingly.
Parker frowned in confusion. "What blanket?"
Jarod's eyelids drifted shut and he sighed. "It has cowboys on it."
Parker smiled. In her mind, a picture formed of the child Jarod had once been. She imagined a bright, precocious little boy with big sparkling brown eyes, long dark lashes and an irresistible grin. His intelligence and creativity had probably made him far too curious for his own good. The child's poor mother had probably had a devil of a time keeping Jarod occupied. And Parker knew from first hand experience what a pain in the ass he could be when Jarod got bored.
The knowledge that Jarod had once been attached to some sort of security blanket added another layer of charm to the mental image.
Jarod began to toss about and whimper frantically about the missing blanket from so long ago.
Parker looked around for some substitute. The best she could do was the fleece jacket she wore. Quickly removing the garment, Parker handed the soft quilted fabric to Jarod.
"Here's your blanket, Jarod." She said gently, brushing the soft cloth against his cheek.
Jarod obediently accepted the jacket and clutched it possessively under his chin.
"Sleep now." Parker hushed.
Jarod curled on his side and slipped into fitful unconsciousness. Parker smiled slyly at the sleeping form as she rubbed calming circles on his back. Jarod's childhood security blanket was a wonderful little piece of knowledge.
A light rapping came at the door as Sydney entered the room.
"How is he?" the older man asked.
Parker shook her head. "He's hallucinating." She answered.
A small smile still softened Parker's face prompting Sydney to ask, "Is something amusing you, Miss Parker?"
"No." She denied. Parker didn't want to share the small secret she'd just learned about Jarod. She wanted to hold this information close and cherish it for a while.
Sydney didn't push the issue. "He looks like he's moved around quite a bit." Sydney observed.
Parker nodded. "He's thrashing around a lot." She brushed her fingertips across Jarod's brow.
Sydney settled into the chair Parker had recently vacated. He watched her as she fussed over Jarod. Sydney found it interesting that Miss Parker, of all people, would take such close charge of Jarod's convalescence. She had barely left this room for the past forty-eight hours. Parker rarely allowed anyone else to tend the insensate pretender.
Watching her now, Sydney noted how Parker perched on the bed at Jarod's side. Under the guise of cooling his face, Parker repeatedly caressed Jarod's forehead and cheeks with the dampened cloth. She showed a tenderness and compassion with her patient that Sydney had not realized she was capable of expressing.
Together the two of them sat quietly watching over Jarod. They shared a look of concern as Jarod's tossing worsened. After nearly an hour, Jarod's thrashing abruptly stilled. His breathing became very slow and deep. The pretender's total stillness was eerily quiet after he'd been kicking at the sheets for so long. The silence was deafening.
For long minutes, the room was completely silent except for the deep rhythmic breathing of the bed's occupant. Suddenly, even those sounds ceased as Jarod exhaled and there was no responding inhalation.
"Sydney?" Parker cried. "I don't think he's breathing!"
Sydney sprang from the chair and moved to Jarod's bedside. Grabbing the unmoving form by the shoulders, he shook Jarod hard. "Jarod!" Sydney yelled.
Parker shoved the older man aside and put her ear to Jarod's chest to listen. She felt a shuddering in the pretender's body and for a split second she thought they were experiencing an earthquake. Parker quickly realized that it was Jarod's body that was trembling.
With a huge gasp, Jarod's body arched off the bed as if he were suffering from an electrical shock. Then his arms and legs began to flop around uncontrollably. Convulsions shook Jarod's body and he twitched violently.
"He's having a seizure!" Sydney said. "Help me get him on his side to keep his tongue from blocking the airway."
With Parker sitting on one side and Sydney on the other, they pushed Jarod onto his right side. The grotesque spasms that shook Jarod's frame served to throw him onto his back. Parker shoved him onto his side again and pressed her body against his shoulder in order to hold Jarod in place.
A low-pitched keening moan came from Jarod's throat as his body convulsed. Parker, effectively holding him down, put her arms around Jarod and began talking calmly to him.
"You're going to be alright, Jarod." Parker soothed. "Just hang on and ride it out. Just ride it out." Parker continued talking in a normal conversational tone. "You're in withdrawal. It will pass. Just ride it out." She repeated.
Just over one minute later, the seizure began to dissipate. The violent shuddering transformed into a mere occasional twitch and then finally stopped altogether. Jarod lay panting and drenched in sweat in the aftermath of the spasms.
Watery brown eyes opened blearily, rolled about for a moment, looked up at Miss Parker and focused on her face.
Parker could see the recognition on Jarod's face and the confusion that followed it. He tried to speak but couldn't seem to find the strength. All he could manage was a faint, whispered, "Ggaa"
"Hey there, you." Parker whispered. Wetting the rag again, she used it to pat the salty dampness from Jarod's face and upper torso. "Welcome back to the land of the living."
Jarod sighed. As Parker rubbed the cool cloth down his arm, Jarod reached out and weakly grabbed her hand with his own. He pulled her hand to his chest and placed it over his heart, clasping both of his palms over the top of it meaningfully.
Parker smiled gently in understanding. "I'm glad to see you too, Rat."
Sydney watched them silently. Parker sat quietly at Jarod's side as he drifted into a deep sleep with her hand still clutched to his chest. Sydney had always known that his two younger friends shared a special connection. It was this link between them that made Parker so efficient at pursuing the pretender. But until this moment, Sydney had not really understood the depths of this bond. The softness on Parker's face during this unguarded moment betrayed her feelings for Jarod. She cared deeply for him. Sydney wondered at how well Parker had been able to hide this from them all at The Centre. Perhaps the only way she had hidden these emotions was to deny they existed, even to her self.
During his musings, Sydney sighed in amazement at this revelation. Parker caught the movement out of the corner of her eye. As though she had just remembered the older man's presence, Parker's posture suddenly straightened. She slowly removed her hand from Jarod's chest. The look of tenderness that had softened her face disappeared and the guarded hardness that Sydney was accustomed to returned.
Sensing Parker's discomfort, Sydney cleared his throat and said, "I'll start heating some soup. Next time he wakes we should try to get him to eat a little broth."
Parker nodded in agreement and made no further comment.
Sydney left quickly and quietly.
The next three days passed in a blur for Jarod. Brief periods of consciousness were scattered among much longer stretches of heavy, recuperative slumber. He had hazy memories of being fed. The simple broth spooned into his mouth at first felt like hot bricks on his stomach and Jarod could remember throwing up at one point. But with the patience of Job, the fluids were poured down his throat, one spoonful at a time. Hot soup and cool water trickled into him until his body reacquainted itself with the concept of food and the sick retching feeling went away.
An odd rumbling sound woke Jarod. He blinked at the ceiling for several minutes and tried to remember where he was and how he had gotten there. Other than knowing he had been ill, Jarod could recall very little. He had seen Miss Parker, of that he was sure. She was alive. She had smiled at him.
Looking around the room Jarod found that he was alone. Outside, rain pelted the curtained window furiously. Lightning flashed, followed closely by another rumble of thunder. The light in the room was gloomy due to the storm, making it difficult for Jarod to determine the time of day.
Quickly deciding on a course of action, Jarod threw back the sheets covering him and tried to sit up. Clutching at the headboard, Jarod squeezed his eyes shut tight as the room spun frantically. It took several minutes for the wave of dizziness to pass.
Realizing that he was naked, Jarod pushed himself to his feet and stumbled awkwardly across the room to the bureau. Praying that he would find something he could wear, Jarod yanked open one of the drawers. As weak as he was, this simple effort was almost too much for him. Thanking the fates that seemed to look over his life, Jarod removed a pair of jeans and a cotton shirt from the drawer.
Pulling on the jeans was another nearly impossible task. Jarod spend several minutes in the process and had to lie back on the bed to rest when he'd finished. Slipping his arms into the shirtsleeves, he didn't bother with the buttons. Barefoot, with his shirttails flapping, Jarod delicately made his way to the door.
Fully expecting the door to be locked, Jarod was somewhat surprised to find that the knob turned easily in his hands. Opening the portal slowly, he peeked into the next room. There was a large open area with a kitchen situated along one wall. On the opposite side of the room was a comfortable looking sofa that faced a large fireplace. To one side, there was a round wooden table and several chairs.
To Jarod's dismay, around this table sat the three Centre employees who had been pursuing him for the last six years. Parker, Sydney and Broots each sat at one side of the round table. At the forth spot, Jarod was surprised to see Broots' little girl Debbie. The entire group had their attention focused on a game board and tiles arranged between them. From this distance, Jarod couldn't be sure but the game looked like Scrabble.
Jarod knew that in his current condition, he would not be able to outrun even Debbie. But if he could move quietly enough, perhaps he could sneak along the wall and be out the front door before they realized it.
Supporting himself with the wall it his back, Jarod crept across the room. Growing weaker with every step, Jarod forced himself to move. When Broots glanced up at the pretender in surprise, Jarod froze in sudden panic.
Broots began to rise from his chair but Miss Parker, seemingly intent upon her game pieces, held a hand up in a halting gesture.
"Sit down, Broots." Parker said calmly. "He needs to figure out what's going on." The rest of the group looked up at Jarod curiously for a moment until Parker said. "Debbie, it is your turn."
To Jarod's wide-eyed shock, his captors simply returned to their game, ignoring his attempt to escape. The pretender did not question his luck. He staggered across the last few yards to the door and tugged it open.
Pushing himself off the doorframe and through the open doorway, Jarod found himself standing on an old wooden porch. A painted white railing framed the area and old-fashioned carved posts held up the roof. Rain beat down heavily on the wooden structure making a rhythmic almost hypnotic sound on the shingles. The air was heavy and warm. The day would have been uncomfortably hot if not for the breeze that gusted by with the storm.
Another flash of lightning brightened the sky. The thunder that rolled by in its aftermath was delayed several seconds. When the deep booming sound did come, Jarod's attention was dragged to another figure on the porch. Laughing and clapping with glee at the sound of the thunder, was Angelo.
The shock at seeing his old friend in such an innocuous place was too much for Jarod's fragile condition. His legs gave out from under him and he sat down on the wooden planks with a hard thud. Blinking at the other man in shock, Jarod frowned in confusion.
"Rain, rain, rain, rain." Angelo sang tunelessly. He was sitting on the white railing with one hand wrapped around a wooden post. Swinging back and forth, Angelo would lean way back and allow the raindrops to fall onto his upturned face. Pulling him self back upright, the strange little man would rock under the protection of the porch roof and let the water run down his face to fall from his chin.
Exhausted from his brief escapade out of bed, Jarod stopped trying to make sense out of the situation and lay down on the floor where he sat. He listened to the drumming sound of the rain on the roof and smiled at Angelo's constant singsong chattering nonsense. The warm spring air lifted his hair as Jarod closed his eyes and permitted himself to enjoy the shear pleasure of the moment.
Though the sounds around him did not change, Jarod knew exactly when Parker sat silently beside him. He felt his body tense up, preparing for flight but Jarod had reached the end of his meager endurance. He would not be able to get away today. He resigned himself to that fact.
Eyes still closed, Jarod spoke. "I'm glad you're okay." He said softly.
Much to his surprise, a soft hand rested on Jarod's forehead for a moment as Parker checked his temperature. "I'm glad you're okay too." She said. "You had me worried for a while."
"Gee Parker, I didn't know you cared." Jarod teased gently.
"Yes you did." Parker whispered into his ear.
Jarod wanted to look at her, to study Parker's face and see if she really meant what she was saying. But he was weary. The hand that had rested so tenderly on his forehead now stroked through the hair on one side of his head. The feeling was almost magical and Jarod was loath to open his eyes for fear that she would pull away if he looked at her too closely.
They sat that way for a while. Jarod lying on the wood floor while Parker ran soothing fingers through his hair. Jarod drifted to sleep briefly and when he woke, the rain had stopped and Angelo had vanished. Jarod blinked his eyes open and looked up to see Parker smiling at him.
"Are you hungry?" she asked.
As if in response to her query, Jarod's gut clenched painfully, twisted around and then growled loudly.
Parker's smile grew and she laughed. "I'll take that as a yes." She chuckled.
Jarod stared at her in wonder. Parker seemed so relaxed, so unguarded. Jarod could not remember seeing her smile like that since they were children. For the first time in a very long time, his urge to run from her disappeared.
"It's Broots' turn to cook so I can't vouch for the quality, but diner is just about ready." Parker said. "Let me help you up." She added as she stood and held a hand out to him.
After several attempts, Jarod was able to stand. With one arm slung over Parker's shoulders for support, he began to make his way across the porch and into the cabin. As they reached the door and Parker held it open for him, Jarod glanced at her with a look of wary speculation.
Parker grinned crookedly at the look of befuddled wonder on Jarod's face. "This is all a little weird isn't it?"
Jarod nodded. "I feel like Alice right after she tumbled down the rabbit hole."
This comment brought another delightful peal of laughter from Parker. Jarod immediately decided that making her laugh was the single most rewarding thing he'd ever done.
"Come on, Alice." Parker said in a wry tone. "Let's eat."
With a mental shrug, Jarod allowed Miss Parker to help him back into the house.
