Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

A/N: This is a dark story, more so because of the way I’m addressing J’s emotional issues. I wanted to understand the psychology behind Lyle’s abuse of J and what it could do to him. Because of that reason, I chose not to go the easy way and let everything fall in place for him. This story is primarily about him, the healing of his soul and the rest of the characters are support cast if you will. I felt that Jarod and Miss Parker have survived the Centre and it’s dealings for thirty years and they’re not about to fall apart. Hope this brings some understanding to those who had questions.

Nightmares of reality

Unknown area

“They know.”

Lyle pinched the bridge of his nose gingerly. Everything was going so well.

“Mr Lyle, did you hear me?”

“How long?”

“I don’t know. Six hours maybe.”

The silence lengthened as Lyle debated his options, glancing at the pretender. “I want you to monitor the traffic on the server. I want to know when they log on again. Trace them and then release the dummy data we had set up.”

“Ok, but what about the chairman?”

“What about him?”

“Well, uhm, he wants to know where you are.”

“Lie.” On that note he closed the connection. He had thought that Gemini would not have had the guts to speak out. It seems he had underestimated his psychological assessment of the boy. It didn’t matter. It was something he will rectify.

What did matter was that his play time with Jarod on this location was drawing to a close now that his sister was on the way. If he had to guess, he would be almost hundred percent certain that the Major will be with her. Perfect.

A sinister smile played on his lips when he looked at Jarod. He dropped the phone in his bag and rummaged in the front. He had no idea how, but Jarod had missed the front pocket and consequently a potential clue to his captor’s identity.

He hefted the camera in his hand as thoughts of Red Rock brought a smile to his face. It still sent shivers down his spine when Jarod had begged him not to cut of his thumb. He considered the act briefly, imagining his sister’s face when she was greeted by Jarod’s limb and then shook his head, mentally berating himself. Now was not the time but later his plans would accommodate such fantasies.

He walked over to where the pretender was still kneeling, waiting for his captive to become aware of his presence. He watched Jarod’s face, noticing the slight pulling of jaw muscles as the pretender unconsciously tensed. Lyle reached out and grabbed Jarod by his hair, pulling the head backwards and to the side. The pretender’s face was now in full view of the last light that was still escaping the setting sun, showing off the dried blood that covered most of the exposed areas around the blindfold. He had to pull his captive’s head twice into position, the second time with a backhanded blow to his face before Jarod understood that he was to stay as positioned. Satisfied, Lyle ignored the uncomfortable grimace from Jarod as he took aim with the camera. He took no more than a dozen, each time propping the pretender into a position he wanted. Finally satisfied with the photo’s he ignored the pretender and started to order the images until he was satisfied. Taking the cut shirt that Jarod had worn for so briefly, he wrapped them in it and placed it by the fire pit.

Dousing the remaining flames with water and then sand, he hefted the backpack. Taking one last look, he made sure he left nothing behind that would indicate his next location.

J blinked in the bright light, shifting upwards against his pillows. He couldn’t believe it, he had actually fallen asleep. He looked at his mother and Dr Brown standing purposefully in the doorway and he frowned briefly before smoothing his face blank.

“What’s going on?”

Even as he asked it, his insides clenched for a brief moment, wondering if something had happened to Jarod. Swallowing his fear, he glanced out the window and noted the darkness that had descended. He turned his head back when his mother’s warm hand folded over his. She glanced at Dr Brown, waiting for the other man. J turned his gaze from his mother to the psychiatrist, waiting.

“J, what do say about going home?”

“Home?”

“It will be with some conditions. You will see me twice a day for the next week and I want you to continue to take the Valium. Your mother will give it to you just before you go to bed. I think it is in your best interest to be around some familiar surroundings.”

“Can I leave now, tonight?”

Dr Brown glanced at his watch and then at Margaret. He could see the eagerness in J’s face and something else he couldn’t quite put his finger on. “Well, it is a bit late but I’ll see what I can do.”

“Margaret, a word,” Brown said as he pulled her to one side, keeping an eye on J sitting quietly in the wheelchair. He made sure he had full eye contact, emphasising the seriousness of his next words, “I think J is up to something.”

“I agree. I’ll keep an eye on him.”

“Maybe we should keep him here for the night,” he suggested, not liking the odds with J at home. Margaret shook her head. “No. J will know that we have anticipated him. Don’t worry. If I have to chain him to his bed, he will stay put. I won’t give him a chance to disappear.”

“Are you sure?”

She smiled briefly, tiredly. Her answer laying in the unspoken gesture and Dr Brown let her go. He decided to have a chat with J tomorrow about how he saw the role of his family in his life. Maybe a solution could be found there.

“Mom, you don’t need to tuck me in. I’m too old.”

Margaret didn’t answer her son. She seated herself on the bed and absently ran her fingers through his hair, tucking a long strand that kept falling over his eyes away.

“I know what you’re planning.”

He kept his eyes averted and tucked at the duvet’s edge. “I’m not planning anything,” he replied sullenly. Margaret laughed and he looked up surprised.

“I’ve been a mother more years than you’ve been alive, J. Give me some credit at least.”

He didn’t know whether he should be angry or not at her response. Confused, he started speak and then stopped.

“J, we want to help but we can’t do that if you don’t allow us inside your life. Do you understand that?”

He nodded, knowing it was expected while he strengthened his decision to continue with his plans. She didn’t buy his silence or his acquisition. A soft hand settled on his cheek, turning his head so that he had no choice but to face her.

“Don’t do this. Let us fight this together, please.”

“You will never understand,” he whispered softly. “I’m not even real.”

Margaret took J’s hand and moved it onto his chest, just over his heart. “What do you feel?”

“Nothing,” he answered, trying to pull his hand from her grip. She didn’t let him, willing him with her whole being to understand. The silence lengthened until he couldn’t take it anymore and broke it harshly.

“What do you want from me?”

“The truth, J. I want to know what you feel.”

“Replicates don’t feel.”

“J, regardless of the way you came into this world, you are still a part of me and your father. Jarod has his own soul and you have yours. You might look alike but that is where it ends,” Margaret said, giving his hand a squeeze before placing it over his heart again, pushing down. She was determined that he will see. “What do you feel?”

J was afraid. The feelings inside him were confusing to say the least. He wanted to lash out at her and at the same time he wanted her to hold him in a tight hug and tell him that everything will be fine and that he’ll be able to go back to the way it was before Lyle. But he knew logically that it didn’t work that way. It made him angry and with no other direction he poured all of it out at his mother.

“Fine, if you so desperately want to know, why don’t you analyse how I felt when Lyle used me to play his sick games with that girl he tortured and murdered, making sure I took part in it. Where were you and dad and Jarod when he cut her up, when he…when he,” he closed his eyes tightly, willing the vivid images to go away and leave him alone. He felt the bile push upwards at the remembrance of blood and the smell of fear that pervaded the air. Her screams sounded in his ears, loud and pained. He heaved, trying to hold it in but it came in a rush that he couldn’t stop. The next instant his bin was pushed under his nose and a comforting hand was on his back, rubbing it in slow circles while he purged his body.

He wanted to ask her to stay when she stood up, not understanding why she was leaving. In his mind he thought he deserved this. He deserved his family’s rejection, he deserved the memories. Before these thoughts could settle long enough she was back with a cool cloth, wiping his mouth and face. Then a glass of water was pressed and he rinsed, spitting it into the bin.

“Thank you.”

For the second time that night he was surprised when he finally could face her again. She was crying. Thinking again that it was his fault for his words he started to apologise, not wanting the added guilt to know that he had made his mother cry. She stopped him by placing a finger on his lips.

“The day they took Jarod, they took away part of my soul. For months we searched for our son, hoping and praying that we would find him or that he would be returned and we would find him safely asleep in his bed. All kinds of scenarios will be running around in my head to what they could be doing to him, about how they could hurt him,” Margaret stopped, gazing at J but not really seeing him, her mind lost in her memories. “I felt guilty. I left the window open. I should have noticed the men before. I should have heard Jarod’s cries.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” J said softly, his eyes tearing in empathy for her. She smiled, nodded and then placed both her hands on J’s face, staring into his eyes.

“I know that now. It’s the same with what Lyle did to you. It wasn’t your fault.”

“But.”

Margaret shook her head, holding his gaze, not allowing him to retreat into the safety net he had created. “No, J. Lyle manipulated you. You need to start looking towards a future. Miss Parker and your father will bring your brother back to us. We need to be ready here, to help them if necessary.”

“Don’t you understand? I should be out there, helping them find Jarod.”

“Why, because you feel the need for vengeance. To have a chance to kill Lyle.”

J jerked his head out of her hands, bringing his legs up and hugged them. “I thought my sessions with Dr Brown were private.”

Margaret wasn’t fazed by his attitude. Instead she shifted so that she sat next to him. He reluctantly allowed her to pull him into an embrace but kept his body stiff to let her know that he was still angry.

“Dr Brown has not discussed your sessions with us, J. It’s not very difficult to see you’re hatred for Lyle nor is it to see that if given the chance to kill him, you will. The reason why is because I had that same hatred inside me for a long time against the Centre.”

“Then you’ll understand…”

“J, I will not allow you to go down that path. Hatred leads to bitterness and bitterness will lead to death. You will never find fulfilment in life, my son if you don’t let go.”

J still leaned against her but a note of disbelief has crept into his voice when he said, “So just let Lyle get away with murder, kidnapping, torture and whatever else his done in his life.”

“Lyle will get his due.”

“When?” J questioned angrily. Margaret didn’t reply and the answer dawned on him. “Miss Parker won’t let him go, will she?” He turned, watching his mother’s face. She just kissed the top of his head, pulling him tighter.

“Well, I’m glad.”

Sadness came over her face. She gave him one more hug and rose. “It’s time for you to go to sleep. Tomorrow we’ll talk further, ok.” She turned at the door, her hand on the switch when he called her back.

“Please stay till I’m asleep.”

She smiled and made her way back to him. He held onto her hand, placing it over his heart. His eyes closed and she stayed, watching her son sleep.

A distant crash sounded, intruding into his consciousness. J mumbled, turning over to go back to sleep. Another muffled sound reached him and he wondered what his mom was doing in the kitchen and whether he shouldn’t help her. One eye opened and seeing the time he decided to rise.

Fifteen minutes later he made his way down the stairs feeling refreshed and clean. He had another session with Dr Brown this morning and he was actually looking forward to it.

“Mom, you want some help,” he asked loudly. When she didn’t answer he frowned. She was probably outside feeding the chickens or something. “Mom?” he called again, stepping towards the kitchen and the open door.

What he hadn’t expected was a hand to snake around his neck and cover his mouth. His head was twisted to the side and upwards at an uncomfortable position. He could feel the person’s body tight against his, keeping him immobile. The grip was tight and he jerked his hands upwards to loosen it. His head was shifted another millimetre in warning and he relaxed, knowing that it would be easy for the person to snap his neck.

“Good boy.”

J stiffened. Lyle’s breath was hot on his ear and he could feel the man move against his back. He tried to swallow, his mouth dry.

“You told.”

The accusation was hard and emotionless, increasing his fear. He was dragged into the living room and he saw his mother. She had been tied to a chair and gagged. A bruise was forming on her cheek. Lying against one wall was his brother. He was similarly gagged, his eyes closed. Blood covered most of his face and he could see ugly bruises on his exposed chest and back. He was tightly bound hand and foot and he couldn’t tell if Jarod was alive or not.

“I had thought that we had an understanding.”

He couldn’t answer even if he had the ability too. His muscles were weak, his palms sweaty. He could smell the fear and this time it was his, not a girl about to be cut into pieces.

“Do you remember our deal, Gemini?”

Lyle relaxed his hand slightly and he managed a nod. He didn’t look at his mother, his concentration on the window and the wide open spaces. He was shutting down, building his defences. It didn’t take a genius to know what Lyle was going to do.

“Do you want to play?”

In answer he bit Lyle’s hand. The metallic taste of blood burst into his mouth and Lyle jerked his hand away with profanity. Using the opportunity, he turned swiftly and threw his first punch. It connected solidly and Lyle hunched over with a loud whoosh. He brought his knee up, desperate to end the fight, his mind on some distant plane already mapping out his next moves.

Lyle was more street smart. He somehow avoided his knee and pulled his other leg from underneath him. He went down hard, his back smarting. He rolled, avoiding Lyle’s kicks. He ended up next to the couch and using it, he lunged at Lyle, bringing them both to the ground. He managed another punch, this time to the side of Lyle’s face before the older man managed to turn him around.

Frantic, he tried to buck him from his body, his hand just managing to grab Lyle’s hands. Lyle twisted his wrist and J lost his grip. He tried to stop the descending fist and only partially succeeded. It glanced of his jaw and smashed into the floor. Lyle swore loudly and dug his knees into his ribs, bringing grunts of pain from J. He could hear his mother’s screams through the gag and it willed him to try even harder.

His hand went to Lyle’s crotch and he grabbed. Lyle’s face went red and then white and he stumbled from J, holding onto his stricken area. Breathing hard, J rose and sprinted for the other man. When he saw the flash it was too late to stop. His momentum toppled them to the ground and he lay still, not moving. Lyle shifted beneath him, shoving him off him and onto his back. A pained gasp left him and he could feel a cold wetness start to spread down his side. His vision dimmed and then focused again on the ceiling. Lyle’s face swam into view. A knee planted against his shoulder and then he screamed in agony when the knife was ripped callously from his side. His hands went immediately to the area, pinching and holding tight. He could feel his blood pumping out the wound, coating his fingers in it.

“That was not a smart move, Gemini.”

He didn’t answer. Lyle rose slowly and it was with perverse pleasure that he noted the slightly hunched stance of the other man. It didn’t last long. Lyle grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the one wall. He stumbled, trying to keep his footing. He somehow got his feet back under him, trying to ignore the stabbing agony in his side. He didn’t need to look to see the trail of blood he was leaving. He made an attempt to catch himself when he tossed to the floor but the effort was in vain and he landed roughly. Curling into a foetal position, he tried to staunch the bleed by keeping pressure on the wound. Lyle’s voice came from a great distance and he tried to concentrate but the words slipped past his understanding. Fingers curled into his hair, lifting his head. He opened his eyes, blinked. Lyle’s face materialised again.

“Can you hear me, Gemini?”

He managed a weak affirmative.

“Try that again and your mother will get the same punishment. Do you understand?”

He glanced past Lyle to where his mother was sitting. He could see the fear in her eyes. His gaze moved back to Lyle and he gave another affirmative. Apparently satisfied, Lyle let him go and moved with a slight limp towards the kitchen. He came back a few minutes later with an ice pack pressed against his front.

It was that moment when Jarod’s eyes opened.

“Anything?”

Major Charles shook his head, his eyes continually scanning the surrounding woodland. Stepping cautiously over a dead branch, he watched the clearing for any sign of movement. He watched as Miss Parker entered the clearing. Lyle didn’t step out from any of the trees and after a few minutes he joined her at the fire pit.

Miss Parker was busily unwrapping material what looked suspiciously like a shirt to him. She gasped when the photos fell out.

“I’m going to kill that son of a bitch so slow he’ll be begging me to end it,” she managed to utter through clenched teeth. One by one, they could see Jarod’s abuse. It almost seemed like Lyle had taken pleasure in taking the photos from every angle to get the full extent of his injuries.

“So where’s Lyle?”

“Now that is the million dollar question. I wonder if my brother had a forewarning that we were coming. From the photo’s it certainly looks like it.”

Her ringing phone interrupted his speculation on possible sites. She answered her usual greeting.

“How’s the mountain air treating you, Sis?”

“Where are you?”

“Here and there. Did you like the photos?”

“You’re sick, Lyle. What do you want?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I want payback for all Jarod’s meddling in my affairs.”

“You brought it on yourself.”

“No. All this is his fault. He will pay and so will his family.”

Lyle hung up, leaving Miss Parker with the phone still pressed against her ear. The hairs on the back of her head stood up and a feeling of dread settled over her. She didn’t look at Major Charles when she dialled the number for their home. The dial tone sounded in her ear and her suspicions was confirmed.

“He’s at your place.”

Major Charles said nothing. He turned around and ran for the road, hearing her footsteps right behind him. They were on the other side of the continent and he knew that even if everything worked out, they were still twelve hours away from getting there.

His first awareness was of pain. It soured around him, filled him till there was nothing left that didn’t ache, throb or burned. He remembers the prick and then the darkness that had descended. He could feel the softness of a carpet on his skin. He was somewhere inside a house. It took a moment later when he noticed that he could hear the harsh breathing of someone, the soft whimpers of someone else. Not hearing anything else, he opened his eyes.

“J?”

He could see his brother curled tight, his hand gripping his side. Jarod could see a trial of blood leading to his brother and concern flooded his senses. A pair of shoes entered his vision and he looked up. It was Lyle. Somehow he should have been surprised but he wasn’t.

“Hello Jarod.”

“What have you done with J?”

Lyle crouched at Jarod’s side and smiled evilly. “Let’s say a lesson in obedience that was sorely needed.”

Jarod pulled against his bonds, knowing it was useless. He looked at his brother, noting the sheen of sweat that covered his face, his pallor and the small breaths he was taking. Relaxing, he tried to reason with Lyle.

“Let me help him. If his wound is not looked after he could die.”

“You haven’t even said hi to your mother, Jarod. Where’s your manners.”

Jarod didn’t breathe. He looked around and had to turn slightly before he saw her. His face darkened in anger and he growled a warning to Lyle. His captor laughed and slapped him lightly in the face.

“Is that the thanks I get for allowing you your sight? Maybe I should return the blindfold.”

Jarod’s fists were clenched tight, his body tense. He took a deep breath and then apologised, knowing that it was what Lyle wanted to hear. He glanced at his mother again, trying to let her know that he was fine. Lyle grabbed him by the bicep, breaking his contact. From the subtle hints, he allowed Lyle to help him into a kneeling position.

Lyle’s gaze lingered over his injuries and Jarod didn’t like the way the man kept looking at J and his mother. Lyle took a knife from the table by one of the chairs and started to play with it.

“Please let me look at my brother?” Jarod pleaded softly, not taking his eyes of Lyle.

Lyle smiled slightly, his eyes thoughtful. “Everything in life has a price.”

Jarod pressed his lips together. He understood the game. “What do you want me to do?”

He wasn’t fooled for one minute by the innocent look on Lyle’s face when his captor said smoothly, “I want you to play a game.”

Jarod didn’t like the moan of protest that came from J or the look of horror on his mother’s face. “Not before I looked at my brother.”

“You’re in no position to demand anything, Jarod. All I want is a yes or no.”

Jarod looked at his brother again. “What are the rules?”

“It will be explained as we progress.”

Jarod gave a short bark of laughter. “No fair, Lyle. How do I know you won’t be making them up as we go along?”

Lyle’s eyes darkened. “Decide, yes or no?”