Disclaimer: Okay, okay, I don't own them. Well, I don't own the Centre and Jarod, Miss Parker, etc, but I DO own the character SARAH, so you had better not use her without asking me! I wrote this for fun, and I am having fun, so anybody to wants to stop me shall not succeed. You'll never take me alive. Or dead, for that matter.
I'm sorry it took so long to get this together. I'm writer, ya know, pen and paper, not a typist. So guess what? It'll be another while before I get the next part out. Oh, and please excuse any mistakes, because I spilled soda on my keyboard and it doesn't work right anymore.
Let Be There A Light
Part 3
By Tchabu
The young Pretender slowly woke, feeling the bright morning sunshine falling across her face. She rolled out of bed and dressed quickly, then walked out into the kitchen. On the table she found a note that read:
Sarah-
Went to the grocery store. I'll be back in an hour.
Her brother had signed it, so she grabbed an apple and sat down to read the newspaper. As she looked at the front page, she found herself staring into the eyes of a child. The little girl was probably about five or six years old, an adorable brunette with freckles sprinkled over her rosy cheeks. Sarah read through the article and discovered that the child had been missing for over 72 hours.
Without hesitation, Sarah pulled on her socks and shoes. I've done so many Sims that have hurt people, she thought, that I should at least try to help. Leaving a hasty note of her own, she hurried out into the street, knowing that time was crucial.
When she arrived at the place from which the girl had disappeared, she took a deep breath and put herself into the child's place. Becoming her, Sarah slowly strolled down the street while she checked all of the possibilities until she found one that fit. Now came the difficult part. It would have to be a two-part Sim, since she had just realized that the child had been kidnapped. After a while, she suddenly knew what to do, and strode resolutely in opposite direction from which she had come.
********
The building was dark and dingy. Knowing that the kidnappers could return at any time, Sarah quickly and quietly set about opening the door. One thing she had always been thankful for was her knack for picking locks. The door clicked dully, and she slid inside to look for the girl. She found her huddled up and crying in a bedroom. Sarah whispered soothing words to her, that everything was all right now and that she was safe. They were about to leave when Sarah heard a hand on the doorknob.
"We have to go down the fire escape and you have to be absolutely quiet. Can you do that for me?" The tearful little girl nodded, so the Pretender helped her climb out the window, following close behind. She rushed the girl down the ladder. She did not want to be caught on the escape. When they got to the ground, the child ran ahead as Sarah took a second to glance back and see three men following and picking up speed.
"Run!" she screamed, gratified to see the girl duck into a candy shop. She sprinted as fast as she could, but that second would cost her, for just then one of the kidnappers grabbed her.
********
"Wait till you see what I brought, little sister," Jarod called affectionately, setting the full grocery bags down on the kitchen table. "She's gonna love this," he said, pulling a Mr. Potato Head out of one brown paper bag. Then he noticed a quick note that said she was on a walk. Well, she would see it when she got home.
********
The little girl reemerged, pulling an elderly man by the hand. He saw a girl fighting three men. She was tall, red-haired, and slim, but she was struggling fiercely. The man was amazed at the fight she was putting up, but before he could do anything, the girl went down under the onslaught of kicks and punches. He rushed back inside and dialed 911.
********
"Have you seen a redhead, about this tall and fourteen years old?" Jarod asked, indicting a height with his hand. Hours after finding Sarah's note, she hadn't returned home, and he had grown worried. It wasn't like her to stay out for such along time without telling him where she would be. Now, about ten after noon, he had tracked her down to a candy shop.
"Oh, yes," said the man behind the counter. "Around twelve. She found the missing girl, but the kidnappers found her, too. They beat her up pretty bad, but only after she gave 'em something to remember. The ambulance just left a minute or so ago." Jarod hastily thanked the man and set off towards the hospital.
********
"I'll take care of the paperwork, Dr. Crowe, while you attend to your first patient. She just arrived in the ER moments ago," said the nurse.
Jarod smiled, pleased that his pretend was working. "Thank you, nurse," he said, as he was led into the emergency room, where he introduced himself and hurriedly prepared.
On the table, he saw his own little sister, although she was so covered in bruises and lacerations that he could hardly recognize her. He quickly and efficiently set to work, setting bones and stitching up wounds. There was one particular cut that he knew would leave a scar about an inch and a half long, on her left cheekbone. There was nothing he could do to keep it from doing so, excepting plastic surgery. After about an hours' work, Sarah was wheeled into the ICU and Jarod took a short break.
He'd been able to piece together what Sarah had done: after seeing the newspaper article, she had gone off to find the missing child. Then, as the man had said, the kidnappers had caught up and attacked her. Now, she was in a coma with a broken right arm and wrist, dozens of cuts and bruises, and three cracked ribs. Why hadn't he been there to help her, he asked himself. It was his fault. He was her big brother; he should not have let this happen. If only he'd been there...
********
"Dr." Jarod was walking down the hall when he noticed a woman holding the hand of a small child. He instantly recognized the child; she was the pretty brunette Sarah had rescued, and the woman was obviously her mother. They seemed somewhat lost, and he was curious, so he approached the pair.
"Can I help you?"
"We're looking for my angel," the little girl stated. "We brought some pretty flowers for her."
Her mother smiled and explained. "We can't find room 219. The girl in it saved my daughter, so Becky thinks that she's an angel."
Jarod led them to Sarah's room with a sad, yet proud smile. Once there, Becky carefully placed the flowers on the windowsill. Then the woman asked who the girl was, Jarod could hardly keep from saying that she was his brother.
"Her name is Sarah," he simply said. "Other than that, the hospital has no information about her."
"Why won't my angel wake up?" the child asked.
"She's just sick, Becky," her mother said, not wanting to worry the child. "We'd better get going, dear."
"Okay." Turning to the bruised form, she said, "Get better, angel. Thank you."
Jarod softly shut the door behind them and sat down next to the bed. He took Sarah's hand, careful to avoid the IV. Quietly, Jarod spoke words of encouragement and reassurance, telling her that everything would be all right and that she could pull through this. He didn't know if she could really hear him, but if she could, he didn't want her to be afraid.
********
"Miss Parker! Sydney," Broots called. Both turned and waited for him to catch up. "Oh, Miss Parker," he panted, out of breath, "you'll never believe what I found out."
"This is the Centre, Broots," she snapped. "After everything that I've seen, there isn't much that will stun me."
Sydney smiled. "What is it?"
"I found out who Sarah is."
Before he could say any more, Parker pulled him into her office. "Now, talk."
"Sarah is Jarod's sister."
The psychiatrist was the first to respond. "That certainly explains what Jarod meant."
"Well, the Pretenders are just one big, happy, lab rat family," Parker sarcastically stated, in an attempt to hide the fact that she really was amazed by the news.
"Sarah was adopted at two years old, so their parents must have worked really hard to cover that up. I really had to do some digging."
"You're about to do some more. Get on that computer and find them. NOW!" Broots scrambled to obey and was soon clacking away at the keyboard.
********
Weeks wore on; Jarod continued to be Dr. Crowe, and Sarah remained comatose. No damage had been done to her internal organs, for which Jarod was thankful. However, as time passed and she showed no sign of improvement or regaining consciousness, he knew he had to accept the fact that she might never recover.
********
"I found her!" Broots said it so suddenly that Parker jumped to her feet and was immediately reading over his shoulder.
"What about Jarod?" she asked.
"Um, uh, no, not Jarod, just Sarah." After a pause, he turned to Sydney. "She's in a hospital."
Not giving him time to respond, Miss Parker said, "Pack your suitcases, boys, we're leaving in half an hour." She began to stalk out, but then turned. "And, Broots, not a word to anybody. Especially Lyle."
********
The hospital cafeteria was packed. Jarod waited patiently for his turn to order lunch, which would be a bowl of soup and a sandwich. As he stood in line, he happened to glance towards the door and saw a man in a suit. A dark suit. With a sudden chill, the word "Sweeper" registered in his mind.
"Oh, no," he muttered. Trapped. His dark eyes momentarily scanned the huge cafeteria. Then he saw his way out: the tiny door leading into the kitchen, which would, hopefully, have another exit. He kept his head down as he strolled nonchalantly towards the door. Moving too quickly would simply draw attention. Once through, he ran into the empty hall.
Wondering where he should go next, a thought struck him like a ton of bricks: Sarah. He couldn't let them take her back. Jarod rushed into the nearest elevator and punched a button. The doors slid silently shut and he prayed that he wouldn't be too late.
********
The huntress stood in the hallway with Broots, just outside room 219, where Sydney was with the girl. She couldn't have gone in with him; she didn't do well in sickrooms. They had arrived ten minutes before and were now waiting for two things. One was for the group of Centre employees to finish preparing Sarah out to the helicopter. The other was the Sweepers who had gone in search of Jarod. The latter showed up first.
"He isn't here, Miss Parker," Sam said.
"Damn. Well, we can't wait around for him to show up," she stated, as the young Pretender was wheeled from her room.
********
Jarod sprinted up the hallway. None of the Sweepers had seen him, and he had already asked the receptionists and nurses to keep quiet about where h was. He burst into the hospital room, only to find it deserted. Without a second thought, he turned and sprinted in the opposite direction from which he had come.
Down corridors and up flights of stairs he ran, taking steps three at a time. Instinctively, he made his way to the roof. The only logical conclusion is that they would take her away in a chopper. He had to get there in time. There was no way to tell what they would do to his little sister back at the Centre.
Up ahead, he saw the door that led to the topmost point of the hospital. Jarod flung it open and was nearly knocked backwards by the wind, just in time to se the helicopter lift off the ground. In anger and desperation, he kicked at the door. Too late!
I'm sorry it took so long to get this together. I'm writer, ya know, pen and paper, not a typist. So guess what? It'll be another while before I get the next part out. Oh, and please excuse any mistakes, because I spilled soda on my keyboard and it doesn't work right anymore.
Let Be There A Light
Part 3
By Tchabu
The young Pretender slowly woke, feeling the bright morning sunshine falling across her face. She rolled out of bed and dressed quickly, then walked out into the kitchen. On the table she found a note that read:
Sarah-
Went to the grocery store. I'll be back in an hour.
Her brother had signed it, so she grabbed an apple and sat down to read the newspaper. As she looked at the front page, she found herself staring into the eyes of a child. The little girl was probably about five or six years old, an adorable brunette with freckles sprinkled over her rosy cheeks. Sarah read through the article and discovered that the child had been missing for over 72 hours.
Without hesitation, Sarah pulled on her socks and shoes. I've done so many Sims that have hurt people, she thought, that I should at least try to help. Leaving a hasty note of her own, she hurried out into the street, knowing that time was crucial.
When she arrived at the place from which the girl had disappeared, she took a deep breath and put herself into the child's place. Becoming her, Sarah slowly strolled down the street while she checked all of the possibilities until she found one that fit. Now came the difficult part. It would have to be a two-part Sim, since she had just realized that the child had been kidnapped. After a while, she suddenly knew what to do, and strode resolutely in opposite direction from which she had come.
********
The building was dark and dingy. Knowing that the kidnappers could return at any time, Sarah quickly and quietly set about opening the door. One thing she had always been thankful for was her knack for picking locks. The door clicked dully, and she slid inside to look for the girl. She found her huddled up and crying in a bedroom. Sarah whispered soothing words to her, that everything was all right now and that she was safe. They were about to leave when Sarah heard a hand on the doorknob.
"We have to go down the fire escape and you have to be absolutely quiet. Can you do that for me?" The tearful little girl nodded, so the Pretender helped her climb out the window, following close behind. She rushed the girl down the ladder. She did not want to be caught on the escape. When they got to the ground, the child ran ahead as Sarah took a second to glance back and see three men following and picking up speed.
"Run!" she screamed, gratified to see the girl duck into a candy shop. She sprinted as fast as she could, but that second would cost her, for just then one of the kidnappers grabbed her.
********
"Wait till you see what I brought, little sister," Jarod called affectionately, setting the full grocery bags down on the kitchen table. "She's gonna love this," he said, pulling a Mr. Potato Head out of one brown paper bag. Then he noticed a quick note that said she was on a walk. Well, she would see it when she got home.
********
The little girl reemerged, pulling an elderly man by the hand. He saw a girl fighting three men. She was tall, red-haired, and slim, but she was struggling fiercely. The man was amazed at the fight she was putting up, but before he could do anything, the girl went down under the onslaught of kicks and punches. He rushed back inside and dialed 911.
********
"Have you seen a redhead, about this tall and fourteen years old?" Jarod asked, indicting a height with his hand. Hours after finding Sarah's note, she hadn't returned home, and he had grown worried. It wasn't like her to stay out for such along time without telling him where she would be. Now, about ten after noon, he had tracked her down to a candy shop.
"Oh, yes," said the man behind the counter. "Around twelve. She found the missing girl, but the kidnappers found her, too. They beat her up pretty bad, but only after she gave 'em something to remember. The ambulance just left a minute or so ago." Jarod hastily thanked the man and set off towards the hospital.
********
"I'll take care of the paperwork, Dr. Crowe, while you attend to your first patient. She just arrived in the ER moments ago," said the nurse.
Jarod smiled, pleased that his pretend was working. "Thank you, nurse," he said, as he was led into the emergency room, where he introduced himself and hurriedly prepared.
On the table, he saw his own little sister, although she was so covered in bruises and lacerations that he could hardly recognize her. He quickly and efficiently set to work, setting bones and stitching up wounds. There was one particular cut that he knew would leave a scar about an inch and a half long, on her left cheekbone. There was nothing he could do to keep it from doing so, excepting plastic surgery. After about an hours' work, Sarah was wheeled into the ICU and Jarod took a short break.
He'd been able to piece together what Sarah had done: after seeing the newspaper article, she had gone off to find the missing child. Then, as the man had said, the kidnappers had caught up and attacked her. Now, she was in a coma with a broken right arm and wrist, dozens of cuts and bruises, and three cracked ribs. Why hadn't he been there to help her, he asked himself. It was his fault. He was her big brother; he should not have let this happen. If only he'd been there...
********
"Dr." Jarod was walking down the hall when he noticed a woman holding the hand of a small child. He instantly recognized the child; she was the pretty brunette Sarah had rescued, and the woman was obviously her mother. They seemed somewhat lost, and he was curious, so he approached the pair.
"Can I help you?"
"We're looking for my angel," the little girl stated. "We brought some pretty flowers for her."
Her mother smiled and explained. "We can't find room 219. The girl in it saved my daughter, so Becky thinks that she's an angel."
Jarod led them to Sarah's room with a sad, yet proud smile. Once there, Becky carefully placed the flowers on the windowsill. Then the woman asked who the girl was, Jarod could hardly keep from saying that she was his brother.
"Her name is Sarah," he simply said. "Other than that, the hospital has no information about her."
"Why won't my angel wake up?" the child asked.
"She's just sick, Becky," her mother said, not wanting to worry the child. "We'd better get going, dear."
"Okay." Turning to the bruised form, she said, "Get better, angel. Thank you."
Jarod softly shut the door behind them and sat down next to the bed. He took Sarah's hand, careful to avoid the IV. Quietly, Jarod spoke words of encouragement and reassurance, telling her that everything would be all right and that she could pull through this. He didn't know if she could really hear him, but if she could, he didn't want her to be afraid.
********
"Miss Parker! Sydney," Broots called. Both turned and waited for him to catch up. "Oh, Miss Parker," he panted, out of breath, "you'll never believe what I found out."
"This is the Centre, Broots," she snapped. "After everything that I've seen, there isn't much that will stun me."
Sydney smiled. "What is it?"
"I found out who Sarah is."
Before he could say any more, Parker pulled him into her office. "Now, talk."
"Sarah is Jarod's sister."
The psychiatrist was the first to respond. "That certainly explains what Jarod meant."
"Well, the Pretenders are just one big, happy, lab rat family," Parker sarcastically stated, in an attempt to hide the fact that she really was amazed by the news.
"Sarah was adopted at two years old, so their parents must have worked really hard to cover that up. I really had to do some digging."
"You're about to do some more. Get on that computer and find them. NOW!" Broots scrambled to obey and was soon clacking away at the keyboard.
********
Weeks wore on; Jarod continued to be Dr. Crowe, and Sarah remained comatose. No damage had been done to her internal organs, for which Jarod was thankful. However, as time passed and she showed no sign of improvement or regaining consciousness, he knew he had to accept the fact that she might never recover.
********
"I found her!" Broots said it so suddenly that Parker jumped to her feet and was immediately reading over his shoulder.
"What about Jarod?" she asked.
"Um, uh, no, not Jarod, just Sarah." After a pause, he turned to Sydney. "She's in a hospital."
Not giving him time to respond, Miss Parker said, "Pack your suitcases, boys, we're leaving in half an hour." She began to stalk out, but then turned. "And, Broots, not a word to anybody. Especially Lyle."
********
The hospital cafeteria was packed. Jarod waited patiently for his turn to order lunch, which would be a bowl of soup and a sandwich. As he stood in line, he happened to glance towards the door and saw a man in a suit. A dark suit. With a sudden chill, the word "Sweeper" registered in his mind.
"Oh, no," he muttered. Trapped. His dark eyes momentarily scanned the huge cafeteria. Then he saw his way out: the tiny door leading into the kitchen, which would, hopefully, have another exit. He kept his head down as he strolled nonchalantly towards the door. Moving too quickly would simply draw attention. Once through, he ran into the empty hall.
Wondering where he should go next, a thought struck him like a ton of bricks: Sarah. He couldn't let them take her back. Jarod rushed into the nearest elevator and punched a button. The doors slid silently shut and he prayed that he wouldn't be too late.
********
The huntress stood in the hallway with Broots, just outside room 219, where Sydney was with the girl. She couldn't have gone in with him; she didn't do well in sickrooms. They had arrived ten minutes before and were now waiting for two things. One was for the group of Centre employees to finish preparing Sarah out to the helicopter. The other was the Sweepers who had gone in search of Jarod. The latter showed up first.
"He isn't here, Miss Parker," Sam said.
"Damn. Well, we can't wait around for him to show up," she stated, as the young Pretender was wheeled from her room.
********
Jarod sprinted up the hallway. None of the Sweepers had seen him, and he had already asked the receptionists and nurses to keep quiet about where h was. He burst into the hospital room, only to find it deserted. Without a second thought, he turned and sprinted in the opposite direction from which he had come.
Down corridors and up flights of stairs he ran, taking steps three at a time. Instinctively, he made his way to the roof. The only logical conclusion is that they would take her away in a chopper. He had to get there in time. There was no way to tell what they would do to his little sister back at the Centre.
Up ahead, he saw the door that led to the topmost point of the hospital. Jarod flung it open and was nearly knocked backwards by the wind, just in time to se the helicopter lift off the ground. In anger and desperation, he kicked at the door. Too late!
