"Son." Brock Charles addressed Jarod when he entered the make shift CCU. "Any change?"
"No, dad." Jarod said sadly. "She dreams but she never wakes and I'm afraid"
Jarod's explanation was interrupted when Parker whimpered and then cried out, she cried Thomas' name.
"Thomas?" Brock inquired.
"A friend of mine, and someone she loved dearly, someone the Centre took from her. Another casualty of the Centre."
"Take a break for a while, I'll sit here."
"No, I can't leave her side."
"You've been at her side for nearly four weeks, Jarod."
"And I will stay until the end. I owe her that, dad. She is dying because of me, it should be me in this bed, not her, and I won't leave her alone. No one should ever die alone."
"Maybe she isn't dying at all, Jarod."
"But she is, dad, and soon, we'll have to call this what it is: a coma. I treated for shock on the jet, her vitals were stable, but she must have went into shock again, and so severely that during transport from the jet to the monastery, cardiac arrest occurred without my knowledge."
"You never left her side, Jarod. Son, it's possible-"
"I'll have to discontinue IV feedings and opt for a enternal, an og tube perhaps. I think she'd prefer a G tube to an NG tube." Jarod's eyes filled with tears. "There is also the matter of an indwelling catheter. Nurse Richards will of course continue changing Parker and the bedding. And I will continue with the stretches. Her muscles shouldn't become rigid, she'd be angry at me if I allowed that to happen." Jarod moved to Parker's feet, and keeping the covers on her to protect her modesty, he began stretching her legs, bending each one at the knee.
During this stretching exercise and at the bleakest moment when Jarod had thought all hope lost, a blood curdling scream filled the room. Parker was very much awake and extremely traumatized.
"Thomas! Where is Thomas?"
Jarod studied her for some time.
"A dream." She choked hoarsely. "A dream. It was a dream."
"A very long one." Jarod agreed.
"My throat."
"Hurts, I imagine." Jarod prepared her a cup with ice water and Brock Charles slipped out of the room to the give the "kids" some privacy.
Her hands didn't quite function properly, despite the daily physical exercises. "I'll hold the cup. Please, drink now."
"Hurts." She grimaced upon swallowing and the complained.
"Your throat is going to be sore for some time."
"Everything. Hurts."
"What happened? Where am I? Why are you here?"
She asked, and then she slept again, but to Jarod's relief, awoke seven hours later.
"Hi." He whispered.
"Jarod. How did you get in-" Parker searched the room. "Where am I?"
"You escaped the Centre, fled to the hunter's lodge."
"Yes."
"My mother and I fled there as well."
"Yes, I remember."
"I was unkind, I know that, and I'm sorry."
"But how-"
"You saved Emily's life by placing yourself between her and Alex's knife."
"Oh god, that's right."
"I did my best, but there is going to be some scarring, when you're out of here, perhaps a plastic surgeon-"
"Is the scarring the least of my worries?"
Jarod nodded. "And mine. Now that you're finally awake." He observed her, recorded her vitals, blood pressure, pulse and respirations.
"Finally?"
"You have been unconscious for more than three weeks."
"In bed for three weeks."
She became suddenly self aware and very self-conscious. She was uncomfortable and seemed to shut down on him.
"Hey." He said softly. "What is it?"
"I've been bedridden and without a bath for"
"You're clean. I assure you."
"You? Jarod, you didn't bathe me-"
"No, no, Nurse Richards is also a nun. She bathes you, changes your bedding, and although I have been allowed to stay, believe me when I say that she is very strict about a woman's modesty. I was forced to turn my back, open up the windows and peer out to study the garden and give her an account of each blossoming bloom. I hope that eases your mind."
"You saw nothing?"
"I saw nothing below the waist, and I swear, impure thoughts were the last thing on my mind when I was repairing your lung. I had to undress you to operate, if there had been any other"
Parker coloured somewhat at that. "I...I understand."
"If it will further ease your mind, I've been a gynecologist and obstetrician and clinical detachment is my expertise."
"Ease my mind? I'm hardly modest, Jarod."
"But just now, you turned at least ten shades of red, so you must be somewhat modest, Miss Parker. Also, I've witnessed your modesty once before, in Scotland. Are you going to tell me that I'm wrong when I vividly recall you ensuring the robe was in place? I'm a Pretender, I know you were uncomfortable wearing nothing but a robe in my presence."
"I was freezing."
"You lie very well." He smirked. "I'll allow it this one time."
"Please do." Parker said. "Can I have more water?"
"Of course."
She eyed him warily, couldn't imagine the feel of his eyes on her naked body, and was thankful that she had no recall of the event.
"What now?" She asked while he added more ice to her cup.
"Alex is on a rampage. He will have to be swiftly dealt with as soon as possible." Jarod returned to her sick bed, once again held the cup, observed as she indulge in the cool water, overindulged, swallowed too much, and coughed. "Miss-" He began when she finally settled onto the pillows and then dispensed with formalities. "Parker, I- I"
He wanted to confess his heart, his every desire, now before the chance was lost, before some tragedy might strike.
"Jarod? Are you alright?"
"Don't you ever scare me like that again." He whispered tearfully, and hoped those wouldn't come as any shock, the last thing he wanted to do was startle her and especially before a full recovery was made. He would his tongue, say nothing of his feelings. Jarod had his say, conveyed concern enough and it would suffice.
"Right." She purred. "Because you wouldn't want to lose your most worthy adversary." She said to drive that dreariness of pain and fear from his eyes, and it worked as well as giving a spoiled child the object of its tantrum or as firing a shot to disperse congregating birds. With her choice of words, with that smile on her face, Parker had swept away the gray clouds from over his head and alas! there was the sun again.
Jarod smiled, and he nodded and those tears ceased.
He was in love with her, Parker realized then. Very much in love, and more than she could comprehend. She'd never comprehend the reasons, the whys.
How can he love me?
How?
Love transcends even death, he'd once said, so why can't it transcend her faults, failures, all of those flaws and the times she'd hurt and disappointed him?
Indeed, his love did transcend all things.
He was afraid to love her, to give, to confess and she had for once wanted to show kindness and meekness, to perhaps be as modest as he seemed to think her, and change the topic of conversation, to give him an easy escape from the thing he had been running from. Not so much her, but his feelings for her. Had those feelings never died? Could that be possible?
Love transcends all things, even death.
The answer therein lies.
Two weeks passed and she became the handful Jarod had always thought her to be.
"I want to bathe myself-"
"You aren't strong enough, Parker." Jarod chided.
Most times, he could convert her to his way of thinking but she'd become temperamental as of late, she rarely slept and was traumatized with night terrors when she did. Parker refused to speak of the terrors, but would give herself, as well as her dark repressed secret, away soon enough.
"I don't want that woman touching me again!" She screamed fiercely.
"Parker-" Jarod leaned in, touched her shoulders to calm her.
"Don't touch me!" She wailed loudly. "Please, don't touch me." She cried and slapped away his hands.
Brock, Maggie, Emily and Jarrett all came running into the room to see what the commotion was.
"It's alright, it's alright." Jarod assured them and then, he took a seat beside Parker.
"Has Nurse Richards...has she done something to hurt you? Something inappropriate? Tell me and I will amend this right away. I will make her pay and I will dismiss the woman into the custody of the police."
"No." She replied. "I prefer to bathe myself. I'm no invalid."
"You aren't strong enough to stand on your own, and I fear there is something else that you aren't telling me here. What is it?"
"I won't regain my strength if I'm confined to this bed. That's all."
"You will. If you continue the exercises, we can have you up with some assistance from either myself or my father in a week or two. You're troubled, Parker. Do you think I don't see that? Do you believe you can hide from me? Look, I don't know if this is a symptom, if it means your condition is worsening or if you're suffering from post traumatic stress disorder as a result of the stabbing or...or something...something else. The nightmares have worsened, you don't sleep and without sleep, you can't expect to recover. Now, it's important that I know what has happened, what has you so upset...I'm talking to you now as your doctor and your friend."
"I thought it was a dream."
"What?"
She cupped her own face, as if trying to stifle herself physically, her fingers splayed along her jaw in painful rumination. She couldn't say it. Not to Jarod. Not to anyone.
"Parker, please, for the sake of your own health, for your physical and mental health, please tell me what's wrong, and I will do what I can to make it right. I promise you that I will try to help."
"I can't" She said tearfully.
"You can. This burden is too much for you bear on your own. Release it, release it's power over you, give it to me. We'll share this pain, and we'll get through whatever it is together."
"Leave me."
"Did Mr. Parker hurt you? Did he molest you? Rape you?"
"I don't know."
"Someone did. Am I right?"
Parker nodded. Those terrible words would not come, she would say the horrible thing."
"Who hurt you?"
"I don't know. There were hands. Hands. Hands on me." She shivered fiercely. "All over my body."
When she didn't continued, Jarod nudged her on gently.
"Whose hands?"
"I-I don- don't know. I don't know."
"What were the hands doing?"
"Hurting." She cried. "Me." She stifled a sob. "My clothes. The hands took my clothes away a..a..and...and then...and then.."
Jarod in all his fury and pulsating anger, choked back tears to be strong for her and stayed gentle and sweet in his nature and tone.
"Where were you?"
"The Centre. The infirmary, I think. I couldn't find daddy. I- I was lost and"
"Go on."
"It was dark. I dropped the ribbon."
"Ribbon?"
"Red. A red ribbon. It was tied to the gold piano trophy..that...I won for my rendition of Bach's.. Bach's"
"Minuet in G?" Jarod knew the one, recalled it fondly and vividly. Fondly until now. He felt his throat tighten. She had been so young, so young and so sweet, so innocent. "Then you had just left my room, you had just showed me the trophy. Think, Parker, think back, just close your eyes and go back to that day and tell me what you see."
She obeyed, closed her tear-filled eyes. "I left you, took the service elevator. I got turned around. Foot steps. There are foot steps. I ran. I thought it was Raines, so I ran, turned the corner. Face! There was a face and then" Parker gasped suddenly. "I don't remember. I don't remember." She sobbed into her hands.
"Okay, okay." He leaned forward to hold her, but pulled back in fear and then allowed his heart to lead. He leaned forward, wrapped her in a cocoon of warmth and tenderness. "It's okay now. I won't let anyone ever hurt you again."
With her head on his strong shoulder, a strong shoulder that now shared her burden, she fell asleep.