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Chapter or Story
My Name Is Sydney - by MMB
Chapter 5: Consequences
The Pepto Bismol bottle was nearly empty already, but Sydney reached for it anyway and tipped what little was left into the little plastic cup and downed it with one gulp, then grimaced. This bigger bottle hadn't lasted much longer than the previous one, and the medicine didn't seem to be even coming close to touching his heartburn today. The aging psychiatrist sat down heavily in his office chair, nearly doubled over with the pain and glad that the day was winding to a close so that he could go home. IF he could straighten up enough to walk, that was...
He had known this day would come weeks ago, when he'd first felt that twinge. Not that there had been anything he could do about it - Mr. Raines didn't recognize physical illness as a reasonable excuse for taking time off. Not with the success of the simulation for the government still ringing in Corporate ears. Not with the sudden influx of new simulations for Jamie that the man had just handed over to Sydney to prioritize and get started on. Just that stack of folders alone constituted what would amount to six months' worth of work to plow through.
Jamie - Sydney struggled nightly to compartmentalize his mind and keep his deep concern for the little boy's mental condition firmly under lock and key, each night with less and less success. While Jamie continued to prosper intellectually under the accelerated learning program that Sydney had developed for Jarod years ago, emotionally the lad was becoming more and more withdrawn. The hunger strike that had started with that one little demonstration of spirit and rebellion had lasted nearly three days until Sydney had sat down and literally force-fed the boy himself to keep him from complete physical collapse.
After that, the boy's spirit seemed broken. He ate, seemingly without tasting; he learned, seemingly without interest. He worked, doing exactly what he was told when he was told to do it - no more and no less. And no more questions or pleading. There was a defeat and a submission in the boy's bearing and voice that tore at Sydney's heart every moment he was with him and accompanied him home to echo in his mind, in his dreams. Only the dreams weren't dreams anymore, but nightmares.
There was a knock on his office door, and Miss Parker pushed her way into the room without waiting for permission to enter. He had been afraid of that, too. It had been he who had closed down their inner communications this time - over a week ago, when the pain had really started to mount and become agony. But from the look on her face, this evening's sudden agonizing acid burn from his meeting from Raines had apparently broken through all the barriers he'd so carefully constructed. Damn... Now she'd know...
"Syd! What the hell are you doing to yourself?" she demanded worriedly as she crossed the room and came over to put a finger under his chin. The sight of his pallor was frightening, as was the expression of deep and agonized pain. Her eyes flew to the empty bottle on the desk. "Christ, Sydney..."
"Go home, Parker. You know you don't want to be a part of this," he warned her in a voice made rough and harsh with pain. "I'll be OK..."
"Sydney..." She squatted down next to him and brushed back the grey hair from where it dangled limply in his face with a gesture that was practically a caress. Her voice was soft as she chided him. "Why didn't you let me know it was getting this bad?"
"What good would it do?" Guilty chestnut eyes flicked up and touched hers very briefly. "There's nothing you could do anyway..."
"The Hell there's not..." she growled defiantly. She rose, strode to his coat rack and reclaimed his beret and jacket. "C'mon. I'm taking you home."
"Parker..."
"Shut up, Syd. You're in no shape to argue." She helped him into his jacket and smoothed back his hair so that the beret looked right perched on his balding head. "Can you stand?" He nodded, slowly, so she stood back and gave him room to move.
He grunted heavily and leaned hard on his desk to give him support as he struggled to his feet. Miss Parker immediately lifted the arm closest to her and slipped beneath it, her arm wrapping around his back as he leaned heavily on her now. "I'm taking you home and calling you a doctor," she announced firmly as she helped him walk slowly toward the Sim Lab door. "And then I'm going to sit on you to make sure you start taking care of yourself better."
"Parker," he complained as his feet stopped moving and he pulled her to a halt too. "I HAVE to come in to work. Raines is determined to move the Pretender Project back into full operation as soon as possible - illness is simply not an option."
"Damn it, Syd, losing the one man capable of pulling off moving the Pretender Project back into full operation in record time simply isn't an option either." She tugged at him to get him moving again. "I'm not going to let Raines push you into an early grave."
"I have to be there for Jamie..."
She punched the button to summon the elevator. "Sydney, look at yourself! You're barely functional! How can you possibly be there for Jamie if you refuse to be there for yourself too? Besides, we both know that it's working with that boy that's tearing you apart at the seams." She shook her head disbelievingly and then got him moving into the elevator car the moment the door swooshed open. "You've been working with no days off for too long. Jamie could use a day of rest, and so could you." At his glare of disbelief she merely added, "I'll clear it with Raines."
Another stab in the stomach made him groan and practically double over again, and only Miss Parker's support kept him from falling. She braced herself; keeping Sydney on his feet was taking every bit of energy she possessed. The elevator ride seemed to take forever, but in that time the older man seemed to rally from his latest cramping and straighten a bit. By the time the elevator had found the parking level, he was once more only leaning heavily on her shoulders and moving under his own steam more or less.
She hit the lock button on her key as they made their way slowly down the line of cars, then maneuvered Sydney into the passenger seat of her Boxster and quickly buckled him in. Glancing at his face as she slipped behind the wheel, she could see the small beads of perspiration on his forehead and upper lip. "Hang in there, Syd," she soothed, catching herself as she reached out to brush his pale cheek with the backs of her fingers, and instead she reached for the ignition. "You'll be home in just a bit."
Sydney leaned his head back against the headrest of the seat, too exhausted to want to watch out the window. He was disgusted with himself more than anything else. His was the easy task - all HE had to do was keep playing the game for the Centre surveillance system. It was Jamie who was suffering greatly, who HAD already suffered more in the little time he'd been in custody than any child should have. Just as it had been Jarod who had suffered for decades. He, Sydney, deserved every twinge and stab that his treacherous body chose to inflict on him now for all the past and present suffering he himself had inflicted on innocent people.
The ride to his home on Washington Street was made in silence except for the occasional whimper or involuntary groan he made when the cramping would start up again. He could hear, from the sound of the car's engine when his pain let up enough so he could focus on something else, that Miss Parker wasn't letting any moss grow under her wheels. The tires were not quite squealing around corners, but coming close to it. There was one time when he could have sworn he felt her put a hand on his shoulder in the midst of a hard cramp, as if wishing to comfort and soothe - but he didn't have the energy to look or acknowledge the gesture.
He felt the bump as she pulled up the driveway apron and stopped in front of his house. "How are you doing?" she asked, her voice clearly worried. "Can you make it inside?"
"I don't know," he admitted, and he didn't. "I'll try," was all he could promise.
Miss Parker came around the front of the car and opened the passenger door, then tried not to panic at the sight of how transparent his face had gotten during the ride. She reached across him and unbuckled his seat belt, then grasped his feet and twisted him around on the seat so that he wouldn't have to work so hard to stand.
She was so busy trying to figure out how to get him out of the car and into his house that she didn't hear the sound of the front door opening behind her. Nor did she know anybody else was present until gentle hands grabbed her shoulders from behind and carefully moved her out of the way. Jarod reached past her into the car and lifted the older man up into his arms like a child. "What the Hell's going on here?" he demanded as he led a stunned Miss Parker quickly back into the house. "What happened?"
"What the Hell are YOU doing here?" she demanded in return, kicking the door closed with her foot, then following him up the stairs and into Sydney's bedroom in time to watch him gently lay his mentor on his bed.
"I asked first," he retorted, moving to remove Syd's shoes and beret. "What's wrong with him?"
"What does it look like, Boy-Wonder?" she snapped at him, moving to Sydney's side defensively. "He's sick. Now, answer MY question."
"I needed... to... talk... make some arrangements..." Jarod hedged after casting a wary glance in her direction.
Miss Parker put up a hand. "OK. Stop right there. I don't want to know. It's bad enough that I know you're here and don't intend to do anything about it." She looked down at the ill man on the bed who had simply closed his eyes to let whatever discussion was to happen go on without his participation for as long as he could. "What's more important to me right now is Syd and what he's doing to himself. He's downing antacids by the pint and damned near collapsed on me several times just now..."
"I can speak for myself," Sydney ground out at that point. "It's just heartburn..."
"Bullshit, Syd. Remember, I've been there." Parker's voice was brusque with her concern. "You're courting an ulcer to match mine - or better."
Jarod's gaze flew from Parker's face to Sydney's. "Syd?"
Agonized chestnut eyes opened and peered apologetically up into chocolate concern. "I had to keep... playing the game... nnnnnnnnn!" He couldn't continue as his statement ended in a moan. He curled away from the others into a tight ball of pain.
"Geez!" Jarod was nonplussed. "If I had known..."
"Can you DO anything for him, Jarod?" Miss Parker called him back from his ruminations.
"Yes, as a matter of fact, I can." Jarod moved to Miss Parker's side. "But I'm going to need your help. I want you to go to the store and get him some mint tea bags - he's going to need to drink mint tea exclusively for the next few days, as well as be on a soft, bland diet until his stomach settles down again. But the bitch of it is, to REALLY take care of things, to take care of the cause of all of this, I'm going to need you to make sure and get him in to work tomorrow and to see to it that he's at work all day."
Sydney reached up to touch fingers to the back of Jarod's hand. "Tomorrow?" Jarod looked down and nodded.
"I don't want to hear this either," Miss Parker reminded them both. "I think I'll go get that tea you were speaking of." She bent over Sydney, deposited a kiss on his cheek and smoothed his tumbled grey hair back into place again in an obvious caress this time. "I'll be back in a bit, I promise. You rest easy." She aimed a calculating gaze at Jarod as she straightened again. "As for you, I suggest you tell him what you need to set his mind more at ease, but that you be gone when I get back. Capice?"
"Crystal."
"And I'll see to it he's at work tomorrow, one way or the other."
Jarod held out a hand to her. "Thanks - for that, and for taking care of Syd."
She demurred for a moment, then shook his hand very briefly before pulling back. "Thanks too, Jarod." She looked up, her eyes speaking volumes that she couldn't bring herself to say in words. "For everything." Then she spun on her stiletto heels and headed towards the stairs and the front door beyond.
"Tomorrow, Jarod?" Sydney inquired from the bed. "Really?"
"Really, Syd. Rest easy. I'm sorry I took so long - had I known what this was doing to you, I'd have moved faster. But it's almost over - only one more day." Jarod sat down on the edge of the bed, pulled by the desperate hope on his mentor's tortured face, and began to explain.
Chapter 5: Consequences
The Pepto Bismol bottle was nearly empty already, but Sydney reached for it anyway and tipped what little was left into the little plastic cup and downed it with one gulp, then grimaced. This bigger bottle hadn't lasted much longer than the previous one, and the medicine didn't seem to be even coming close to touching his heartburn today. The aging psychiatrist sat down heavily in his office chair, nearly doubled over with the pain and glad that the day was winding to a close so that he could go home. IF he could straighten up enough to walk, that was...
He had known this day would come weeks ago, when he'd first felt that twinge. Not that there had been anything he could do about it - Mr. Raines didn't recognize physical illness as a reasonable excuse for taking time off. Not with the success of the simulation for the government still ringing in Corporate ears. Not with the sudden influx of new simulations for Jamie that the man had just handed over to Sydney to prioritize and get started on. Just that stack of folders alone constituted what would amount to six months' worth of work to plow through.
Jamie - Sydney struggled nightly to compartmentalize his mind and keep his deep concern for the little boy's mental condition firmly under lock and key, each night with less and less success. While Jamie continued to prosper intellectually under the accelerated learning program that Sydney had developed for Jarod years ago, emotionally the lad was becoming more and more withdrawn. The hunger strike that had started with that one little demonstration of spirit and rebellion had lasted nearly three days until Sydney had sat down and literally force-fed the boy himself to keep him from complete physical collapse.
After that, the boy's spirit seemed broken. He ate, seemingly without tasting; he learned, seemingly without interest. He worked, doing exactly what he was told when he was told to do it - no more and no less. And no more questions or pleading. There was a defeat and a submission in the boy's bearing and voice that tore at Sydney's heart every moment he was with him and accompanied him home to echo in his mind, in his dreams. Only the dreams weren't dreams anymore, but nightmares.
There was a knock on his office door, and Miss Parker pushed her way into the room without waiting for permission to enter. He had been afraid of that, too. It had been he who had closed down their inner communications this time - over a week ago, when the pain had really started to mount and become agony. But from the look on her face, this evening's sudden agonizing acid burn from his meeting from Raines had apparently broken through all the barriers he'd so carefully constructed. Damn... Now she'd know...
"Syd! What the hell are you doing to yourself?" she demanded worriedly as she crossed the room and came over to put a finger under his chin. The sight of his pallor was frightening, as was the expression of deep and agonized pain. Her eyes flew to the empty bottle on the desk. "Christ, Sydney..."
"Go home, Parker. You know you don't want to be a part of this," he warned her in a voice made rough and harsh with pain. "I'll be OK..."
"Sydney..." She squatted down next to him and brushed back the grey hair from where it dangled limply in his face with a gesture that was practically a caress. Her voice was soft as she chided him. "Why didn't you let me know it was getting this bad?"
"What good would it do?" Guilty chestnut eyes flicked up and touched hers very briefly. "There's nothing you could do anyway..."
"The Hell there's not..." she growled defiantly. She rose, strode to his coat rack and reclaimed his beret and jacket. "C'mon. I'm taking you home."
"Parker..."
"Shut up, Syd. You're in no shape to argue." She helped him into his jacket and smoothed back his hair so that the beret looked right perched on his balding head. "Can you stand?" He nodded, slowly, so she stood back and gave him room to move.
He grunted heavily and leaned hard on his desk to give him support as he struggled to his feet. Miss Parker immediately lifted the arm closest to her and slipped beneath it, her arm wrapping around his back as he leaned heavily on her now. "I'm taking you home and calling you a doctor," she announced firmly as she helped him walk slowly toward the Sim Lab door. "And then I'm going to sit on you to make sure you start taking care of yourself better."
"Parker," he complained as his feet stopped moving and he pulled her to a halt too. "I HAVE to come in to work. Raines is determined to move the Pretender Project back into full operation as soon as possible - illness is simply not an option."
"Damn it, Syd, losing the one man capable of pulling off moving the Pretender Project back into full operation in record time simply isn't an option either." She tugged at him to get him moving again. "I'm not going to let Raines push you into an early grave."
"I have to be there for Jamie..."
She punched the button to summon the elevator. "Sydney, look at yourself! You're barely functional! How can you possibly be there for Jamie if you refuse to be there for yourself too? Besides, we both know that it's working with that boy that's tearing you apart at the seams." She shook her head disbelievingly and then got him moving into the elevator car the moment the door swooshed open. "You've been working with no days off for too long. Jamie could use a day of rest, and so could you." At his glare of disbelief she merely added, "I'll clear it with Raines."
Another stab in the stomach made him groan and practically double over again, and only Miss Parker's support kept him from falling. She braced herself; keeping Sydney on his feet was taking every bit of energy she possessed. The elevator ride seemed to take forever, but in that time the older man seemed to rally from his latest cramping and straighten a bit. By the time the elevator had found the parking level, he was once more only leaning heavily on her shoulders and moving under his own steam more or less.
She hit the lock button on her key as they made their way slowly down the line of cars, then maneuvered Sydney into the passenger seat of her Boxster and quickly buckled him in. Glancing at his face as she slipped behind the wheel, she could see the small beads of perspiration on his forehead and upper lip. "Hang in there, Syd," she soothed, catching herself as she reached out to brush his pale cheek with the backs of her fingers, and instead she reached for the ignition. "You'll be home in just a bit."
Sydney leaned his head back against the headrest of the seat, too exhausted to want to watch out the window. He was disgusted with himself more than anything else. His was the easy task - all HE had to do was keep playing the game for the Centre surveillance system. It was Jamie who was suffering greatly, who HAD already suffered more in the little time he'd been in custody than any child should have. Just as it had been Jarod who had suffered for decades. He, Sydney, deserved every twinge and stab that his treacherous body chose to inflict on him now for all the past and present suffering he himself had inflicted on innocent people.
The ride to his home on Washington Street was made in silence except for the occasional whimper or involuntary groan he made when the cramping would start up again. He could hear, from the sound of the car's engine when his pain let up enough so he could focus on something else, that Miss Parker wasn't letting any moss grow under her wheels. The tires were not quite squealing around corners, but coming close to it. There was one time when he could have sworn he felt her put a hand on his shoulder in the midst of a hard cramp, as if wishing to comfort and soothe - but he didn't have the energy to look or acknowledge the gesture.
He felt the bump as she pulled up the driveway apron and stopped in front of his house. "How are you doing?" she asked, her voice clearly worried. "Can you make it inside?"
"I don't know," he admitted, and he didn't. "I'll try," was all he could promise.
Miss Parker came around the front of the car and opened the passenger door, then tried not to panic at the sight of how transparent his face had gotten during the ride. She reached across him and unbuckled his seat belt, then grasped his feet and twisted him around on the seat so that he wouldn't have to work so hard to stand.
She was so busy trying to figure out how to get him out of the car and into his house that she didn't hear the sound of the front door opening behind her. Nor did she know anybody else was present until gentle hands grabbed her shoulders from behind and carefully moved her out of the way. Jarod reached past her into the car and lifted the older man up into his arms like a child. "What the Hell's going on here?" he demanded as he led a stunned Miss Parker quickly back into the house. "What happened?"
"What the Hell are YOU doing here?" she demanded in return, kicking the door closed with her foot, then following him up the stairs and into Sydney's bedroom in time to watch him gently lay his mentor on his bed.
"I asked first," he retorted, moving to remove Syd's shoes and beret. "What's wrong with him?"
"What does it look like, Boy-Wonder?" she snapped at him, moving to Sydney's side defensively. "He's sick. Now, answer MY question."
"I needed... to... talk... make some arrangements..." Jarod hedged after casting a wary glance in her direction.
Miss Parker put up a hand. "OK. Stop right there. I don't want to know. It's bad enough that I know you're here and don't intend to do anything about it." She looked down at the ill man on the bed who had simply closed his eyes to let whatever discussion was to happen go on without his participation for as long as he could. "What's more important to me right now is Syd and what he's doing to himself. He's downing antacids by the pint and damned near collapsed on me several times just now..."
"I can speak for myself," Sydney ground out at that point. "It's just heartburn..."
"Bullshit, Syd. Remember, I've been there." Parker's voice was brusque with her concern. "You're courting an ulcer to match mine - or better."
Jarod's gaze flew from Parker's face to Sydney's. "Syd?"
Agonized chestnut eyes opened and peered apologetically up into chocolate concern. "I had to keep... playing the game... nnnnnnnnn!" He couldn't continue as his statement ended in a moan. He curled away from the others into a tight ball of pain.
"Geez!" Jarod was nonplussed. "If I had known..."
"Can you DO anything for him, Jarod?" Miss Parker called him back from his ruminations.
"Yes, as a matter of fact, I can." Jarod moved to Miss Parker's side. "But I'm going to need your help. I want you to go to the store and get him some mint tea bags - he's going to need to drink mint tea exclusively for the next few days, as well as be on a soft, bland diet until his stomach settles down again. But the bitch of it is, to REALLY take care of things, to take care of the cause of all of this, I'm going to need you to make sure and get him in to work tomorrow and to see to it that he's at work all day."
Sydney reached up to touch fingers to the back of Jarod's hand. "Tomorrow?" Jarod looked down and nodded.
"I don't want to hear this either," Miss Parker reminded them both. "I think I'll go get that tea you were speaking of." She bent over Sydney, deposited a kiss on his cheek and smoothed his tumbled grey hair back into place again in an obvious caress this time. "I'll be back in a bit, I promise. You rest easy." She aimed a calculating gaze at Jarod as she straightened again. "As for you, I suggest you tell him what you need to set his mind more at ease, but that you be gone when I get back. Capice?"
"Crystal."
"And I'll see to it he's at work tomorrow, one way or the other."
Jarod held out a hand to her. "Thanks - for that, and for taking care of Syd."
She demurred for a moment, then shook his hand very briefly before pulling back. "Thanks too, Jarod." She looked up, her eyes speaking volumes that she couldn't bring herself to say in words. "For everything." Then she spun on her stiletto heels and headed towards the stairs and the front door beyond.
"Tomorrow, Jarod?" Sydney inquired from the bed. "Really?"
"Really, Syd. Rest easy. I'm sorry I took so long - had I known what this was doing to you, I'd have moved faster. But it's almost over - only one more day." Jarod sat down on the edge of the bed, pulled by the desperate hope on his mentor's tortured face, and began to explain.
