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Author's Chapter Notes:

See Chapter 1 for disclaimer. 

I want to thank all those who reviewed this story.  Taking the time to review another persons story is wonderful.


Thursday Morning

The SIM Lab 

 

Sydney approached the SIM Lab doors slowly.  His anxiety levels had risen all night.  His stomach was in such tight knots that he had been unable to even eat breakfast this morning.  As a result, he was here in the Centre a full hour earlier than usual.

 

“Good morning, Doctor,” the sweeper at the lab door greeted Sydney.

 

Sydney nodded to the man, but the knots in his stomach tightened even more.  The only time a sweeper was outside was when Jarod was inside.  Jarod shouldn’t be inside the lab until Sydney called down for him.  The fact that the sweeper wouldn’t even look at Sydney had him almost running through the doors.

 

Jarod was working at his desk.  That had Sydney slowing his step immediately.  But then Jarod’s posture caught his attention.  Jarod was sitting straight up.  So straight it looked as if he had a board strapped onto him.  A quick glance at Jarod’s face had Sydney muffling a gasp.  Jarod looked as if he had been beaten all night long and Sydney suspected that was exactly what had happened.

 

“Are you alright, Jarod?” Sydney asked cautiously.

 

Jarod barely moved his head in a nod, but he never lifted his eyes from the papers in front of him.  And he couldn’t hide his gasp of pain when Sydney grabbed his shoulders.

 

“Who did t his to you?” Sydney demanded as he headed to the phone in the SIM Lab Office.

 

Jarod didn’t answer Sydney, instead just mumbled that he had to do his work.

 

Sydney ignored Jarod’s mumbling as he re-entered the lab.  After wetting a cloth at the sink, he walked back to Jarod.  Gently tipping Jarod’s head up, he started dabbing at the still slowly oozing cuts.

 

“Just relax, Jarod.  The paramedics should be here any minute.”

 

“No, please.  It’s okay.  I can keep working.  Really.”

 

The sight of the paramedics entering had Jarod trying even harder to convince Sydney of his fitness.  But he didn’t fight off the medic who was placing a blood pressure cuff around his upper arm.

 

“BP 145/93, respiration 28, pulse 83,” one paramedic reported.  The second medic nodded and called to the infirmary for a gurney.

 

“No, please.  Let me stay here.  Please, no…..” Jarod continued to mumble, even as he was strapped to the rolling bed.

 

 **********************************************************  

 

Infirmary Wing

 

A white-coated, dark-haired lady approached Sydney.  He had been kicked out of the examination room Jarod had been brought to.  The doctor had told him to leave when Jarod continued to beg him to let him go back to the lab.

 

“We have him sedated, Sydney,” the doctor said.  “He was worked over pretty good.  A couple of broken ribs, a few more seriously cracked ones.  A broken nose and multiple bruises and lacerations, some that needed stitches.  How he avoided a concussion is beyond me.”

 

Sydney closed his eyes as the list of Jarod’s injuries continued.  A couple of deep breaths later, he was able to look back at the doctor.

 

“What now?”

 

“I want to keep him here overnight, for observation.  If all goes well, he can be released tomorrow, but I don’t want him doing anything strenuous for a couple of weeks.  Not that he is going to feel like doing much, but the pain-pills should help.”

 

Sydney thanked the doctor and headed back toward the elevators.  He knew who was responsible for Jarod’s injuries and it was time that he started protecting Jarod.

 

****************************************************************** 

 

Mr. Parker’s Office 

Sydney strode past the secretary, her “Hey, stop, you can’t go in there” not slowing his pace at all.

 

“Mr. Parker, you have to stop Raines,” he demanded the instant he cleared the doorway.  “He’s put Jarod in the infirmary.”

 

“If he….would do as…he was…told…such lessons…would not be….needed.”

 

Sydney spun around.  Raines was lurking off to the side.  Sydney’s eyes narrowed menacingly as he advanced on Raines.

 

“Such a ‘lesson’ was not needed.  He was working,” Sydney stopped right in front of Raines.

 

Mr. Parker looked over at Sydney.

 

“You say the Pretender is in the infirmary?  How soon before he can complete the SIM he was working on?  The client is getting anxious.”

 

“At the moment, the doctor has him sedated.  I don’t know when he will be released, but it should be sometime tomorrow.  Even then, the broken and cracked ribs will prevent him from working long stretches of time.”

 

“He will work…when he…is told to work.”

 

“You stay away from Jarod.  And keep your sweepers away, too,” Sydney all but snarled into Raines’ face.

 

“Now, now.  Calm down, Sydney.  I’m sure Raines had nothing to do with Jarod’s injuries.”

 

Sydney just glared at both men.

 

“Keep him away from Jarod.  He is my project and I will not tolerate any more interference.  No more late-night SIMS or experiments.  No more sending me off to pointless symposiums to get me away from Jarod.  No more coming into the SIM Lab during the day.  If Jarod refuses to do a SIM, which I seriously doubt he will do now, then I will contact you directly,” Sydney told Mr. Parker.

 

“Or else what?” demanded Raines.

 

“Or I will contact the Triumvirate myself.”

 

 And with that final threat, Sydney left the office.




Chapter End Notes:
I am not a doctor or even in the medical field, so if the vital signs were too high, too low or otherwise wrong for the condition...oh, well.





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