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Thanks for the feedback guys, love it. Hope you all like this chap...

 

 


His mouth had developed a mind of it’s own, once opened there was no hope in god’s green earth that it would shut again any time soon.

All the words came out without thought or control. It was an animated story of fear, panic and pain. Jarod told Sydney of everything that had happened up until and causing the crash. He told how Miss Parker had told him to run, had made him promise to run. How he begged her not to do it. How she said that she didn’t want to be the one responsible for his death at the Centre and how he had responded, about him making her death his responsibility and how he made her cry.

Jarod didn’t even realise that he was crying again until he had finished the story. He laid absolutely still, terrified that even the movement of his chest drawing in air would set Sydney off. He had shown how much of a coward he was, how he needed a woman to save him. He had told Sydney in every word known how he had killed his ‘daughter’. He stayed frozen in place as he watched Sydney shed tears that he didn’t know the older man even had.

Jarod scurried further into the couch as soon as he saw Sydney move from his chair. Jarod’s good arm shot in front of his face for protection as he saw Sydney move his hand towards his head. Jarod let out a soft whimper as Sydney softly ran his finger over the bandaged gash on his forehead. Lowering his arm from its place in front of his face, Jarod looked cautiously at Sydney.

Sydney stared softly down at the injured man. The older man never noticed the silent tears falling onto Jarod’s face, his young protégé had been through hell and back again. He had seen his best friend and his only love give her freedom, her life, to keep him out of the place that haunted him. Did Jarod not see, even though the circumstances were horrific, that Miss Parker had given Jarod the ultimate gift? The greatest, most precious thing she could give? She had given him not only his freedom, but her love, her very self to him. She had tried to protect him, tried to save him, tried to give the world back to him. Could Jarod not see this?

Of course he couldn’t see this. He was grief stricken, he was in shock, in pain. He was filled with guilt over the accident. Even though it had been her choice, and if Jarod was thinking correctly, he would have realised he couldn’t have stopped her. That was like trying to stop the sun rising, the moon setting. She was too damn stubborn for her own good. And this stubbornness had killed her, not him. Jarod needed to understand that this was her choice, and he shouldn’t blame himself over it. He should be cherishing her memory, that he should be glad that she is finally away from this hell she had to live - day in, day out. He was not responsible for her death and he needed to realise it.

“Jarod, it is very late, and you have had a very hard day. I think you should try to rest. You only slept for an hour earlier before the nightmare woke you. Would you like to take a guest room?” Sydney asked softly. He would not force Jarod to do anything that he didn’t want to do at the moment.

Shaking his head no, Jarod carefully turned no his uninjured side and curled into the couch. Walking off, Sydney retuned a minute later with a pillow and a few blankets. Placing the pillow under Jarod’s head, Sydney placed the blankets over the man taking note of the soft steady breathing that told him Jarod was already asleep.

#######

Jarod awoke late the next morning. He hadn’t realised how tired he actually was, so tired in fact that he had a nightmare, even a dream, free sleep. He heard Sydney bustling around the kitchen and the strong smell of coffee. Jarod threw back the blankets and went to sit up when a hand on his shoulder stoped him.

“Stay where you are Jarod, I don’t want you moving unless it is important.” Sydney said, using his no non-sense tone Jarod vividly remembered from his years in the Centre.

“I don’t know how importantly you consider using the bathroom, but its pretty high on my important list.” Jarod responded with a slight smile on his face. Sydney withdrew his hand with a small smile.

Slowly bringing himself to a sitting position, Jarod swung his legs to the ground. His muscles screamed in protest, Jarod felt warm patches on his legs, looking down he saw red seeping through the pyjama pants. The deeper cuts on his legs had re-opened, ignoring it, Jarod used his good arm to push himself up. Jarod wasn’t standing for too long, his sprained ankle giving way. Jarod collapsed back onto the couch with a grunt. Pushing away the offered hand from Sydney, Jarod tried again, not putting so much weight on his still sore ankle.

He would not rely on any one any more, he would not let people help him in any way whatsoever. Look at what happened last time! If he had to shut Sydney out, close himself down emotionally, ignore all help and support offered, he would. He would not allow anyone else to be hurt or killed because he needed help. Not anymore, not ever. Miss Parker died because of his need for help, he wouldn't allow it to happen again!

Determined to get to the toilet, Jarod pushed his wounded body further, ignoring the shooting pain making circuits through his body.

#######

Jarod had successfully made it to the bathroom. Once there, Jarod relieved himself and splashed some cold water onto his face. Looking into the mirror, Jarod saw how bad he actually looked. He had an ugly bruise on his cheek, his lip was still slightly swollen, the cut above his eye had formed a deep red scab then there was the bandage covering the stitched gash. Peeling it back gently, Jarod took note of how well Sydney had stitched it.

But it was Jarod’s look that scared him. He was ashen and pale, there were dark rings under his eyes, his eyes themselves held nothing. The man looking back at him from the mirror was a stranger. He had lost his joy, his reason to go on, his life and now the sparkle his eye had once held had gone too.

Gently poking his ribs, Jarod was happy to know they weren’t broken and were less tender than the night before. What worried him the most was his wrist. It was throbbing constantly, there was no doubt that it was broken, which meant he would have to go to a hospital for an x-ray and a cast. Jarod hated to be at hospitals as a patient, they were slow and inefficient, but he saw no other way. If it was a simple fracture he could fix it by himself. But the pain he felt, the grinding sounds that were made when he moved his wrist made him believe an x-ray and real doctor was needed.

#######

Jarod slowly made his way out to the kitchen, trying not to re-open anymore cuts on his legs or to put weight on his sore ankle.

“Good morning Jarod. I see you made it to the bathroom by yourself.” Sydney greeted.

“Yes I did.” Jarod said, still with a distance in his voice.

Sighing, Sydney walked over to Jarod with a top. Handing Jarod the soft, flannel shirt, he asked Jarod to put it on.

“I’ll be here if you want help.”

Jarod took the shirt without answering and slowly took the sling off of his arm. Letting out a yelp of pain as he straightened his arm. Slowly Jarod pulled the sleeve over his injured wrist, careful not to bump it. Once it was over that arm, Jarod carefully slipped the other arm through.

Sydney stood up to replace the sling, ignoring the glares Jarod sent towards him. Sydney continued to button up the shirt despite Jarod’s protests saying he was capable.

“Jarod, please don’t push me away. I will not leave you alone, and you will not get me hurt by accepting my help, or hurt yourself. Jarod you will need help to get through this, to heal.” Looking up into his eyes, Sydney went on, "Your not the only one hurting, others are to. They will need your help to work through the pain."

“I couldn’t stand it if I lost you too, Sydney.” Jarod said softly looking down at his hands. “I know it is weak to need others, to need help, but I need you Sydney.”

“Jarod, it is not a weakness to need others nor to need help. I believe it was you who tried to get Miss Parker to understand that.”

“Look at what good it did her.” Jarod snapped angrily.

“Jarod, this wasn’t your fault. It will do you good to realise that and stop blaming yourself.”:

“I can’t Sydney! She died trying to save me, just like her mother!” Jarod wailed

“Jarod, it wasn’t your fault her mother died either. She died trying to get away, trying to save Ethan from the life that you lived.”

“I know that Sydney, I know that. It’s just hard not to think that way. After all the time I was made to believe that she died trying to rescue me and the others. Then having been told my father killed her. I just can’t stop thinking it was all my fault.” Jarod said softly, and as a thought clicked in his mind, his head shot up to look at Sydney as he went on. "I kill everyone around me at some point or another! Kenny was executed in front of my eyes. He was shot dead to make me do a damned SIM! Kyle was murdered trying to save my life, he jumped in front of the bullet that was meant for me!" Jarod cried. "Even Nicholas was used to get to me. He could have been killed too Sydney! I'm a damn death magnet." Jarod wailed miserably.

Sydney tried with all his will to keep the sympathy he felt for this young man inside. He really was a death magnet. Deciding to change the subject Sydney asked Jarod if he wanted some breakfast.

“You need to eat Jarod. Your body needs to heal.” Sydney said as he placed two pieces of toast in front of him.

Un-ethustically, Jarod brought the toast up to his mouth and took a bite. The sweetness of the strawberry jam took over his mouth. He loved jam so much, the sweetness, the texture, the mix of fruit and sugar. Miss Parker would never have jam again.

Sighing heavily, Jarod put the unfinished slice of toasted bread back down. Pushing up from the chair, Jarod hobbled to the couch and laid back down, turning to face the back of the couch, Jarod pushed himself as far into it as he could, trying to disappear.

#######

It was almost 10 am when there was a knock on the door. Glancing wearily at Jarod, who didn’t bother to move, Sydney got up to answer the door. It could have been Sam, or Willie, or even Mr Lyle, and Jarod still wouldn’t have moved.

“Broots? Debbie?” Sydney asked some what surprised. “Come in.”

Opening the door all the way and stepping aside, Sydney welcomed the two into his home.

“We just wanted to stop by, make sure your alright.”

“Thank you for your concern Broots. How are you doing Debbie?” Sydney asked softly.

Debbie sniffled, “I miss her. Why did she have to leave us Sydney?”

Jarod cringed on the couch. “She left because of me.” Jarod said with out emotion.

Broots glanced over to see Jarod laying comfortably on the couch.

“Debbie, honey could you please follow Sydney to the study for a while. I need to speak to Jarod in private.”

“Daddy, I don’t want to leave you. Please can I just stay.”

“Come on Debbie, I think your father needs to be alone for a few minutes. Why don’t I start to read Little Women to you. You know how much Miss Parker loved that book.”

Debbie looked at a banged up Jarod, her angry father and a concerned Sydney. “Alright Sydney.” she agreed.

“That’s a good girl.”

Jarod listened jealously to their exchange. They had seen the soft side of her that Jarod had longed to see since his escape. The side he had pushed to her to expose to him. The soft side of the Ice Queen, that none of them would ever see again. This young girl had spent only a night with Miss Parker, and within that one night, she had opened up. He had been trying since his escape to try and get in, to see the soft side of her that was so well guarded. It was eating him alive, if only he could have been more like Debbie.

As soon as they were out of sight and ear shot, Broots advanced angrily on Jarod.

“You killed her.” Broots stated. He was furious at Jarod but it wasn’t in his nature to vent anger on people. But Jarod was making it very hard not to vent on him.

“I’m sorry Mr Broots...” Jarod hung his head I’m shame.

“Don’t give me that! You killed her! How could you risk her life for your freedom, I never thought you were that self centred and selfish.” Broots said flatly.

“You don’t understand,” Jarod tried to defend himself to some degree.

“No I don’t, I thought you cared for her, I thought that you wanted her to be safe and happy. Not dead!” Broots was getting madder by the second.

“You killed her, you caused the car to crash, you tried to escape again and this time you took a precious gift from the world! You took Miss Parker away from me, away from my daughter, away from Sydney!” his voice was rising.

Jarod realised that Broots believed the lie told to him, that Jarod had tried to get control of the car. Only problem at the moment was that Jarod didn’t care. He was willing to sit there and take it. He did kill her, and finally someone was willing to punish him for it.

Jarod’s silence only proved to make Broots anger rise. He actually, for once in his life, wanted a fight, and Jarod was just taking it. Grabbing the collar of the flannel shirt Jarod donned, he pulled Jarod up into a sitting position. Broots stubbornly ignored the yelp of pain that Jarod made as he started to shake Jarod roughly.

“Why did you kill her!”

When Jarod didn't answer, Broots shook him harder again. Jarod screwed his face up in pain. This was hell on his newly re-located collar bone and his broken wrist.

“I’m sorry Broots, I really am.” Jarod said ever so quietly.

Sighing, Broots let the man go.

“I’m sorry Jarod.” Broots said softly. “I know I shouldn't blame you. I know she was bringing you back to the one place in the world that you never wanted to step foot in again. I only work there, that's bad enough, who can blame you for wanting to escape?" Broots said softly, his anger spent. “It’s just hard, Debbie isn’t taking it well. I won't tell her it is your fault. She doesn’t need to know. I just need to know why you ran instead of helping her.”

“I don’t know Mr Broots, I panicked I guess. I ran for my life instead of helping my childhood friend. I’m so sorry.” Jarod said, holding back the tears. No more crying.

Turning on his heel, Broots left Jarod alone to seek out his daughter. Jarod sighed heavily and stood up. Time to leave. Slipping his bare feet into his shoes, Jarod slipped out of the house clad in ill fitting pyjama pants and a flannel shirt. Softly shutting the door, Jarod glanced back at the house. Sydney would be angry he left in his condition, but he couldn’t handle another minute locked in the house with only his guilt to occupy him. Slowly Jarod turned away again and limped away from the house.









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