Balancing The Scales - Part 17
Seeing Daylight
by MMB
Miss Parker looked at her watch as the fireman steered the police cruiser into Sydney's driveway: three-thirty in the morning. A glance at the windows of the house told the tale - everything was dark; no doubt all of them were asleep or at least dozing. And she didn't have a key to just let herself in without disturbing someone. Damn.
She looked over at the fireman who had been her impromptu chauffeur. "Thanks. I appreciate the ride."
"You're welcome, Miss. I'm glad you... are OK..." the young man responded awkwardly. He had no idea how to properly speak to someone who had been through what this woman had.
"Take care, and get some rest," she patted the young man's arm and climbed from the car. She turned and pulled her fingers through her hair, looking at the two-story tract house she'd frankly wondered if she would ever see again. What awaited her inside would be a mixed bag - Sydney and Davy would be thrilled to have her back; but Deb... She really wasn't looking forward to giving the young woman the news that her father was still among the missing.
The porch light flared suddenly and the front door opened quietly, and a sleepy-looking Kevin poked his head out to see what the commotion with car doors had been about. When he saw Miss Parker, his face broke into a wide smile. Here, at last, was one of two people that would make so much of the hurting go away. He held the door open for her and hit the foyer light switch. "They'll be so glad to see you..." he stated softly, closing the door behind her.
"They're asleep, I take it..." Miss Parker relaxed against the inside of the front door, the adrenaline she'd been running on for the last twelve hours coming finally to an end.
He nodded. "Davy's in my bed for the night, and Sydney finally convinced Debbie to take his bed so she could..." His voice caught, and Miss Parker knew instantly that the young woman had not taken the lack of news about her father's condition well.
"Where's Sydney then?" she whispered.
"In here," came the lightly accented voice from the direction of the den, followed by a grunt. "And if you don't get in here yourself posthaste, I'll have to get up..."
Miss Parker's face softened, and she sped through the house to the darkened den - only to find that Sydney was struggling to his feet anyway in the dim moonlight. The moment his eyes lit on her, his whole face began to shine with relief and happiness. "Parker!" he said as he barely had a chance to balance himself erect and open his arms to her before she had wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him tightly to her.
"Syd!" Her whisper was broken, and at long last she released all the emotions that she'd forced herself to keep tightly locked down so that she could do what was necessary. Her sobs were silent ones, but they shook her entire frame.
Sydney folded her into his arms and held on tightly, his eyes closed and tears of relief pouring down his cheeks as he kissed the side of her head gently and then put his slightly grizzled cheek to hers and allowed himself the luxury of breathing freely again. All the waiting without knowing whether she lived or not had taught him just how central his adopted daughter had become to his world. The relief of just holding her close to him again after living through the nightmare of the possibility of her being lost to him forever was overwhelming, and he in turn began to sob as well.
Kevin watched quietly for a while, then turned and walked towards the front of the house and the living room, turning off the light in the foyer as he went. There was a couch in there he could stretch out on and doze again that would allow the two in the den some privacy for their reunion. And he would still be on hand should another car arrive in the drive bearing one or more of the other two from this family who were still missing.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Jarod frowned. Not quite completely masked by the sounds of heavy boots on the stairs was the ominous low sound of stressed construction. The movement of the backhoes above in opening the stairwell had probably weakened things even more than before, and it was only a matter of time now before things began to start falling in.
The two rescuers behind him were following at the same rapid pace he was leading them, and he was almost but not quite hitting a breakneck speed. If Broots hadn't emerged with the rest of the SL-17 staff, he must be hurt and hurt badly. In that case, time was essential for a number of reasons. The sooner they got to SL-17 and could assess the situation - if there even WAS one - the sooner they could start back up again. And one thing was for certain: the trip back up the stairs would be taking a helluva lot longer than the trip down.
There it was - the door with the huge "17" painted on it. Jarod pushed through and then flicked on his heavy lantern. Evidently the generators supplying power for this sublevel had not had their full allotment of gas supplied, because it was pitch-black except for the strong beams of light from the flashlights and lanterns. He checked that his companions had joined him on the level, then led the way quickly down the corridor toward the double doors of the Sim Lab.
The doors, while closed, were unlocked - and Jarod swallowed. Parker said that with Syd home, they SHOULD have been locked tightly; and so this indicated that Broots had at least made it this far and yet not back out to lock them again. He forced the doors to slide on their tracks so that it was easy to slip through them into the huge lab, then shone his beam about the room.
In the twelve to thirteen years since he'd seen the inside of this room, nothing evidently had changed much. The worktable at which he had sat to do so many of his simpler sims still sat off to one side, with probably the same three chairs tucked neatly in place. There was the small chess set of clear and frosted plastic he had used so many times in mock battle with Sydney, sitting off on a shelf near the bookcase. Various electrical gadgets lined other shelves, probably used to register and measure brain wave activity in research subjects.
Then, at the back of the room, Sydney's office door was closed. Jarod pointed to it with his lantern beam. "Over here, guys," he said and, with another deep breath and apprehensive swallow, led the way. Again, the door opened easily, a sign that Broots had made it to the office. A sweep of the inner office quickly told the tale - and Jarod refrained from any more steps down memory lane at the sight that presented itself to him.
The heavy file cabinet that stood next to Sydney's desk had toppled and fallen, open, on Broots' lower body as he lay on his stomach. A briefcase was clutched in one hand that had obviously been used to strike the cabinet, as evidenced by the damage to the case exterior. Broots was still and very pale on the floor, and there was an ominously dark pool emerging from beneath the file cabinet.
Jarod knelt next to his friend and put his fingers to his neck in search of a pulse. "He's still alive, but just barely," he announced to his team and then rose to help remove the massive file cabinet.
"Oh sweet Jesus!" exclaimed the younger rescuer at the sight of the ragged bone of Broots' left leg protruding through the pant leg of his trousers. "He's lucky he hasn't bled to death already!"
"Yet, you mean," the second rescuer retorted ominously. "Jarod, bring the medical case! We need to get a tourniquet on this leg NOW!"
The three rescuers set to work, functioning seamlessly as a team as if they had trained long and hard together. Gently Jarod pried Broots' fingers from the handle of the brief case and straightened the arm so that it could be secured with his body to the backboard that was being carefully applied. It wasn't easy getting the many straps that would hold head and shoulders and belly and pelvis and knees and feet to the board slipped beneath the damaged body, but the rescuers worked smoothly and soon lifted the board and righted it.
Again Jarod checked for a pulse, then listened to the very shallow breathing. Broots was in poor shape and deteriorating fast, but at least the bleeding from his leg had been reduced to mere seepage. Jarod applied a pressure bandage to the wound while the others packed up as much as they could.
Then leaving Jarod to gather up the medical case and shoulder the backpack with the extra flashlights, the two fresher rescuers each took one end of the backboard and lifted Broots between them. Jarod thought for a moment, then reached down and snagged the briefcase that Broots had been packing as well - so that at least his injuries wouldn't have been for nothing. He then lifted the strong lantern beam so that the team carrying the injured man could see their way to begin to move.
"Take him up feet first," Jarod suggested as they gained the landing of the stairwell. "He's probably already deeply in shock, but anything we can do to help him along can't hurt."
"Good idea," the younger rescuer said, and the two switched their positions on the back board so that he was holding the feet end of the board behind him and his partner was holding the end with Broots' head directly in front of him.
With Jarod walking alongside so as to illumine their way, they began the long, tedious climb back out of the pit.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Finally Miss Parker and Sydney stood just holding each other quietly, their sobs each reduced to mere weeping and then ceased altogether. He shifted on his feet carefully, feeling the ache of his side begin to wear through the half-dose of pain medication he'd allowed Kevin to administer earlier - enough to take the edge from the pain without leaving him in drugged fog again. She felt his movement and lifted her head from his shoulder immediately. "Sit down, Sydney, before you fall down."
"Sit here with me for a while," he responded, sinking gladly back onto the couch and then patting the cushion next to him. "Tell me," he added, reaching for a hand and pulling her down next to him as he wanted.
She shrugged. "I missed most of the action at first. I was down in the morgue, making sure Raines really was an ex-Raines at last, when everything... went. Then I was going through the entire place, getting people up those damned stairs... It wasn't until I got to the surface that I saw... I realized..."
"Where's Jarod, Parker?" Sydney asked, suddenly realizing that she'd come home alone. "Where's Broots?"
Her head drooped. "Jarod's gone down to SL-17, looking for Broots," she told him softly, her voice broken and wavering. "I didn't know... when I was there... I didn't check..." She choked back yet a new set of sobs. "I thought the Sim Lab was locked up tight... It's all my fault..."
Sydney found himself embracing her all over again. "No it isn't. If you didn't know he had gone down there..."
"But I didn't check!"
"You didn't think you needed to, and from the sounds of it, you felt time was of the essence," he soothed, pulling her head to his shoulder again and smoothing her head back. "You're exhausted, and you're not thinking clearly anymore."
"That's no excuse," she gulped. "What am I going to tell Debbie? I walked right past her Dad and left him..."
"Stop it," he chided firmly. "You're not going to tell Debbie anything at the moment - and maybe by the time you're both awake again, Jarod will have news for us so you don't HAVE to tell her anything." He smoothed her hair again. "Broots might not have approved, but when I couldn't calm her earlier, I gave her a very stiff drink and then had Kevin help her up the stairs to my bedroom once it started to work. She's been dead to the world ever since, so you have the time to get some rest yourself first before you face her."
She sighed deeply, wishing she didn't feel quite so relieved at not having to talk to Deb right away. "OK," she conceded to the situation without any more complaint.
"I'm glad you're seeing things my way," he commented softly, still enjoying the fact that she was actually here, with him, alive and healthy. He smoothed her hair yet again, his hands moving in the caress that helped him keep reassuring himself that this wasn't just a wishful dream. She was beginning to relax against him, droop a little even, and at that point he knew that he needed to push her one last time for the evening. "Why don't you go up and cuddle with your son..."
"Does that mean I have to climb more stairs?" she asked, her voice giving evidence as to just how unappealing that prospect was. "I've seen and climbed more stairs today, Syd, than I ever want to see again in my life!" She snuggled on his shoulder a little. "Besides, I'm not sure I even have the energy to move again. You have a comfortable shoulder. I could just close my eyes and drop off right here..."
Sydney smiled. "As much as I myself wouldn't mind much, I know my side would probably complain bitterly after a while - and Davy could really use the snuggles more. I'm content - I've had my share for the time being." He kissed her forehead and then pushed at her to sit up more erectly. "As for facing yet another staircase, however... think of it this way: once you're up this one, you won't have to come back down again for a good long while - and you can take a nice, long, hot shower to loosen up your muscles before even trying..."
"There is that..." she answered with a deep sigh. "God, Syd, but I'm tired."
"Then go to bed, Parker. Sleep yourself out. You've earned it."
"You'll call me the moment Jarod calls?" she demanded in a soft and increasingly sleepy voice.
"I promise. Now GO!" He kissed her again and pushed her away. "GO!"
She kissed his cheek in return and then groaned as she forced her muscles to move her again and put her back on her feet. Only one more flight of stairs, she promised herself as she again forced herself to put one foot in front of the other and climb up to where her little boy lay asleep and waiting for her.
Davy looked very small in that double bed, curled over on his side. Miss Parker smiled down at her son and moved quietly to the other side of the bed and kicked off her shoes before sitting down on the mattress. Then with a soft sigh, she lifted the covers and slid beneath them and over to where she could gather her son against her. He roused slightly and, not quite completely awake, murmured, "You're OK, Mommy?"
"I'm fine, baby," she responded very quietly, kissing the top of his head gently. "Go back to sleep."
He did - and with another release of breath, she followed him into slumber.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Jarod took a deep breath of fresh, ocean air, looking out across the debris field toward the Atlantic beyond. In the sky above the horizon, already there was a hint of color that bespoke the sunrise that was only an hour or so away. The sound of machinery and power tools had, he had no doubt, continued non-stop throughout the night, cutting through beams and through concrete slabs in a never-ending search for more victims and/or survivors of the previous day's catastrophe.
He himself had now long since passed the point of exhaustion and was running on a rapidly diminishing supply of pure adrenaline. That adrenaline had carried him those last ten flights of stairs at the bottom end of the backboard, near Broots' head. Once or twice during that long trek did Jarod hear a slight moan from his injured friend. Several times during the ascent, the team had stopped to switch positions and burdens so that no one person carried for too long in the same posture. That had made the journey upwards go faster, for neither of the other team members had tired completely.
And now the EMT's were securing the board with Broots still firmly strapped on to a transport gurney. Jarod tapped the one on the shoulder. "Which hospital are you taking him to?"
"Queen of Mercy in Dover," was the answer without turning from his task.
"Thanks." Jarod tiredly removed his protective hat and coat. "Look, I'm a friend of his - if anything should happen..." He swallowed hard. "Let me give you the number for where this man's family is. Just in case..."
"Thanks, buddy!" The EMT pulled a small notepad from a breast pocket and quickly jotted down the patient's name and the phone number at which family could be reached. "He seems stable enough, and we'll have the ER ready for him by the time we get there. If you're going to be talking to his family soon, let them know that he'll probably be in surgery moments after he is admitted."
"I'll take care of that," Jarod promised and sighed as the back door to the ambulance closed and it sped away, siren blaring and lights flashing.
It was time to let this pretend go - he had accomplished everything he'd hoped for. Miss Parker was probably already home at Sydney's and asleep, and now Broots was at least accounted for. He could only hope Sam had somehow seen fit to contact the group too, but had no more energy to begin another search.
"Russell," came a call across the staging area, and Jarod shuffled slowly toward an equally tired looking Captain Talmann. "I'm assuming I don't need to call a police officer to escort you..." the fire captain stated firmly.
"No, sir," Jarod sighed, dropping the suspenders holding up his heavy canvas trousers. Indeed, all he wanted at the moment was to lay his head down on a soft pillow and not move for the next day. "Thanks for all..."
"Oh for God's sake, Russell, thank YOU for all you've done here today. You went above and beyond, as far as I'm concerned." Talmann extended a grateful hand to the Californian. "You ever decide to leave the Left Coast, you just remember that you can have a billet in my company ANYtime."
"Thanks, Cap," Jarod nodded and shook the man's hand. "If I ever get tired of my own job, I'll give your offer some consideration." He turned to walk back to his car.
"Hold up, Russell," Talmann called, then turned and summoned a pair of police officers. "I need someone to drive this man home in his own vehicle. He's in no shape to drive, and has earned a little consideration for having volunteered his services for so many hours to our search and rescue."
"Cap..." Jarod complained, but Talmann wouldn't hear him. And too tired to complain more than once, he meekly accompanied the officers who quickly agreed to the short assignment. He climbed into the passenger seat of his little sports car and leaned his head back against the headrest tiredly while listening to the skill with which the officer handled the sensitive transmission of his high-powered car.
He debated calling to tell Debbie the news that her father had been found, but he knew that she would need considerable support once she heard the extent of his visible injuries. He needed to tell her himself, and tell her that she needed to be on her way to Dover in the morning as soon as he rested up. He knew she'd probably be in no shape to drive herself, and he was in no shape either until he got some sleep. With Sam out of commission, and Miss Parker hopefully asleep at last, there was no one capable of driving her until morning anyway - unless things took a major turn for the worse.
He'd just have to weather an angry Debbie when she awoke to find out that nobody had told her anything. Hopefully he could come through that intact, considering he'd have Sydney to back him up.
The commute between the Centre and Sydney's was a short one, Sydney having long ago purchased a home on the end of the village closest to the Centre. Jarod waved goodbye to the officer who had done such a good job with his car, then sorted through the keys in his hand for the one to Syd's front door as he yawned his way up the walk. But before he could insert the key in the lock, the porch light had come to life and the door was swinging open with a sleepy Kevin scratching his tousled sandy hair and smiling at him.
"Good to see you back again," the young man said softly as he closed and locked the door behind his older counterpart.
"Is everyone asleep?" Jarod asked, yawning again.
"Yup," the young Pretender nodded. "I got Sydney to take another dose of pain medication after Miss Parker came home, and Davy and Deb have been out for hours."
Jarod ran his fingers over his beard thoughtfully. "I think I'll stretch out in the den for a couple of hours then..."
"That's where Sydney is, on the couch in there. Davy and Miss Parker are in my room, and Deb's in Sydney's room," Kevin quickly informed the tired man.
"There's a recliner in the den that's comfortable that I've slept in a couple of times," Jarod nodded. "I just need to rest for a few hours - and then I'll be able to take Deb to Dover to be with her Dad..."
Kevin's eyes grew wide. "You found him? He was alive?" He began to smile. "Deb will be thrilled..."
"Listen," Jarod warned the young man carefully, "if you talk to her before I do, don't get her hopes up. Yes, Broots was alive, but only barely. He's lost a LOT of blood from a compound fracture of his left leg, and God only knows what else could have been damaged that we couldn't see. He was stable, at least, when they started transporting him to the hospital. But even at that, I'd imagine that by the time I get her there later today, he'll either still be in surgery or under heavy pain medication and out of it completely." He rubbed his eyes tiredly.
"That bad?" Kevin's voice was hushed. This was mixed news for Deb - she'd be relieved that her Dad was alive, only to get more worried yet about his condition and/or whether he'd survive after all.
"Yeah, Kev, that bad." Jarod yawned again. "If we don't get a call between now and then, it means he's still with us - seriously hurt but still alive. But right now I've just GOT to get some rest..." He patted the young man on the shoulder. "We'll talk later, OK?"
Kevin nodded, then left the foyer light on until he knew Jarod had gained the den and then turned it off and made his way back to his couch in the living room. He stretched out on the couch, eyes wide open, thinking.
Sydney had been right - at least for the most part. The bad hadn't lasted forever. All of their little family's members had at least been accounted for, and most had been returned safe and sound, more or less - all but one. For Deb, the bad hadn't come to an end yet. And yet, if what Sydney said was true, it would eventually.
Kevin decided that he wanted to be part of what made the bad go away for Deb. One way or the other.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"I think we have another live one here," called out a rescue worker from a position not far from where Ngawe and Tanaka had been extracted. He bent down to the tumbled cement and steel. "Can you hear me, buddy?"
"Hai - yes," came the weak and pain-tightened answer from somewhere inside that mess.
"Hang on, then," the rescuer told the hidden man, then turned again. "Alive and conscious! Get a team over her!"
Fujimori would have taken a deep breath of relief, but right now it hurt very badly just to take in the shallow breaths that were keeping him alive. Instead, he resumed his quiet chanting, with every repetition reaffirming his oath that if he should escape this debaucle alive, he would shave his head and find his peace of mind in a monastery in Kyoto.
He had, through the disastrous leadership of two generations of Tanakas, learned that the Yakuza path was no longer for him. He had much to atone for in his next lives - best he got started on it immediately.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Charles Harrison had had a very long night, and he was in no mood for any more surprises - but the Blue Cove Police Chief knew that, in dealing with the Centre, it was unlikely that he would get through the night without at least a couple of fairly nasty ones. Right now, looking down at the still form of the gunshot victim on the edge of the Centre property after viewing the strangling victim just a few yards away, he knew he was probably looking at the kind of surprise he REALLY didn't want.
Once Officer Donaldson's report had come across the squawk, he had issued a priority request for a forensics team from Dover - and now he watched as the patient scientists moved slowly and methodically through the surrounding brush, photographing and collecting evidence with gloved hands. One had picked up the little black plastic box after photographing it and carried it over to him. "Detonator," the man pronounced knowledgeably, "and of relatively new and innovative design. Considering what went on here," the man jerked his head in the direction of the mess that once had been the Centre Tower, "I'd say that this little unit probably was the trigger to THAT."
"But that doesn't make sense," Harrison screwed up his face in confusion. "If this guy's the bomber, who shot him?"
The forensics specialist just shook his head. "Looks like you have a mystery on your hands, Chief."
"Several," the police chief growled in response. Two obvious murders on top of an explosion this destructive was just WAY too big for him or his rural constabulary - or even State law enforcement - to handle. He knew that when he got back to the office, his next move would be to call in the Feds. They would have the resources and manpower to figure out what the Hell happened here.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Sydney roused as his internal clock signaled the end of the need for sleep, and then he roused further as he heard the soft sound of snoring from the other side of the room. He stretched carefully, glad not to feel his side begin to ache immediately, then rolled to a sitting position and yawned widely while scratching his head and then rubbing his hands to smooth down his hair into some semblance of civility.
Jarod was sprawled in the recliner across the room from him, his arms wrapped around himself, snoring very softly. Sydney rose to his feet carefully, snagging one of the light blankets that Deb and Kevin had used to create a day-bed for him and placing it very gently over the reclined form to provide warmth to the sleeping Pretender. God only knew when the man had finally made it home - or what kind of news he had brought with him for Deb.
Then with another yawn, Sydney shuffled across the room and into the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee. It was already fully morning - the others would be starting to get up soon, and all except Davy would be needing caffeine today after their rough day and night. Indeed, even as he fussed with filters and filling the water chamber for the coffeemaker, he heard stirring behind him. "Good morning," Kevin yawned behind him.
"Good morning to you," Sydney responded, finding it far less painful this morning to make the small movements than in days past. Jarod's insistence on his staying down and quiet were having a beneficial effect after all. "Were you awake when Jarod came home?"
"Yeah," Kevin yawned again. "It wasn't all that long ago..." He looked up at the kitchen clock. "Maybe three hours now..."
Sydney nodded, then finished assembling the coffee maker and punched the switch on the side to begin the brewing process before turning to his new protégé. "Was there any word?"
Kevin nodded. "He said he found Broots - and that unless we got a call, which we didn't, that he was seriously hurt but being treated in the hospital. Something about a broken leg and blood loss..."
"Will he live?" Deb's voice was small and frightened, and both men started and turned to stare at her as she stood in the kitchen door.
"Deb..." Kevin felt horrible. Jarod had told him not to say much to her.
Sydney, however, was already moving towards his granddaughter. "Sweetheart," he began, quickly putting an arm about her shoulders. "Kevin said that Jarod told him that he found your father - he's hurt, but alive, and has been taken to the hospital."
"I heard that," the young woman said, appreciating the embrace but wanting to know more. "Will he live?"
"As far as I know," Jarod's tired voice spoke from behind her. "The EMT's said that they'd call only if there had been a problem - and nobody's called. Your father was as stable as we could get him when the ambulance left for Dover."
"I want to see him," Debbie announced in no uncertain terms.
"I'll take you," Jarod promised. "Let me shower and get some coffee down me first, though, OK? It was a very long night."
"I'm sorry, Uncle Jarod." Debbie felt a tear drop to her cheek as she moved determinedly from her grandfather's embrace and lifted her arms to hug the tired Pretender. "Thank you for finding and saving my Dad."
"Jarod, you're in no shape to be driving," Sydney scolded with a frown. "I can drive Deb to Dover myself while you get some rest..."
"Syd, you shouldn't drive with the pain medication..."
Sydney shook his head. "I haven't had any since about three this morning, and even then, I kept Kevin from giving me the full dose. I'll behave myself, not do much moving or walking, and I can pop Tylenol's if I get in a bad way." He put a hand on his hip. "Be reasonable, Jarod. You and Parker are exhausted, Sam's out of commission, Kevin can't drive and Deb SHOULDN'T drive. That leaves me."
Jarod stared at his old mentor over the top of Debbie's head, and when his tired mind couldn't come up with one reasonable argument, he knew Sydney was right - he was still exhausted and in no condition to drive all the way into Dover. "I hate it when you're right in situations like these," he grumbled.
"You go back to your recliner," Sydney ordered firmly, pointing, "and stay there for at least another four hours. Deb, let me get myself shaved and properly dressed first. We'll leave after breakfast."
"Grandpa, are you sure you don't want me to drive?" Deb asked, letting go of a surprisingly compliant Jarod so that he could head back to the den and his rest.
"Positive," Sydney stated flatly. "If I drive, I don't have to battle that damned seat belt over my wound."
"Can I come as well?" Kevin asked hesitantly.
Sydney's eyes flitted back and forth between the young Pretender and his granddaughter knowingly. "That might be a good idea." He pointed to the refrigerator. "Let's get some breakfast made, and then let's get going. I'm sure Deb wants some definitive word on her father sometime before lunch."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Sydney put a gentle hand on Kevin's shoulder, holding the young man back as Debbie approached her father's bed in Intensive Care in shock and horror. Broots was very pale and still, with his lower torso and thighs encased in plaster and heavy bandaging from the end of the plaster to his ankles. The IV stand held plastic containers of both blood and medication that was dripping slowly into his left hand.
A nurse came through the door behind the two men and stepped up next to the young woman. "He hasn't regained consciousness yet, Miss Broots." She put a hand on Deb's shoulder. "I've notified Doctor Samuels that you're here so that you can have all your questions answered. He said he'd be around presently."
Debbie nodded wordlessly and took the seat next to her father's head. She reached out a hand to capture his and brought it to her lips. "Daddy," she called softly. "I'm here, Daddy. Wake up, please." She cradled the hand against her cheek and closed her eyes.
Sydney heard a small sound from the young man next to him, and he turned to watch Kevin watch Deb with an utterly helpless and distressed look on his face. He stepped up to where the young woman was sitting and put a hand gently on her shoulder. "I think Kevin and I will go down to the cafeteria for a bit - do you want us to bring you back some coffee?" When she nodded, he turned and took the young Pretender's forearm with a hand. "Come on, Kevin. Let's leave Deb with her dad for a bit."
Kevin hung back a bit until Deb looked up and saw his action and said softly, "I'll be OK. You go on with Sydney." Then, a bit confused, he turned and allowed Sydney to escort him from the room and down the hallway.
"But..." the young man frowned in confusion, "don't we want to stay, to help her..."
Sydney clapped the young man on the shoulder as they stepped through the cafeteria doors. "Sometimes, if you care about someone, you have to give them room for their emotions - even if they are difficult ones." He gently directed the young man to the machine that dispensed coffee. "Deb's relationship with her father is a very special one - one that neither you nor I really should try to interfere with."
"You mean, like your relationship with Miss Parker?" the young man asked innocently as he took his turn getting coffee. The older man shot his new protégé a look that Kevin saw, making him want to explain. "When she came home last night, when..." he paused, trying find a way to say what he meant. "I felt like I was intruding just being there..."
Sydney nodded knowingly. "Yes, that's what I mean." He studied Kevin's expression of confusion. "The relationship between two people who care for each other in any way is a very special and private one - no matter how many people are in our lives, the relationship between ourselves and each one of them is unique and special. The relationship that is developing between the two of us falls into that category too," he added pointedly. "There are simply those times when privacy needs to be protected and honored, even within the overall sense of family ties. The trick you'll have to learn is to recognize when those private times come along so that you can respect them. You recognized one last night - this is another."
"Last night was easy - both you and Miss Parker were very... emotional. But Mr. Broots isn't even conscious..."
"That doesn't really make a difference to Deb, Kevin. There are things that she wouldn't feel comfortable expressing to her father in front of anybody else - no matter how close they might be to both Deb and Broots otherwise. Whether he is conscious enough to hear them is complete beside the point."
Kevin sighed heavily, and his shoulders sagged as he turned from the coffee dispenser. "I still don't understand."
"Don't worry about it," Sydney soothed, pointing the way to an unoccupied table near the door. "These are the kinds of things that you learn through example - and sometimes by stepping where you aren't welcome and being reprimanded for it. I thought I'd save you the embarrassment of that this time around, since I was here. You'll have your chance to learn the hard way soon enough."
The look in Kevin's worried blue eyes told Sydney that the young Pretender wasn't entirely convinced yet, but the older man was willing to let the subject drop for the time being. There was no need for him to make too much of the point unnecessarily yet, and there was enough to worry about otherwise that was much more important.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Davy squirmed out of his mother's arms and slipped from beneath the bedcovers to head for the bathroom and then downstairs for breakfast. The open door to his Grandpa's bedroom evidenced that his Grandpa was probably already up and about - which, considering how slowly Grandpa was moving these days, probably mean the older man was feeling better for a change.
The house was unusually silent for this time in the morning, and Davy found himself looking for signs of his grandfather without much success - and both Kevin and Debbie seemed to have vanished as well. He eventually found his father, fast asleep and snoring, in the recliner in the den. With that discovery, however, Davy began to breathe a little easier - most of his immediate family was all present and accounted for, mother and father at least. Grandpa, Kevin and Deb must have taken off already, and would be back later.
The kitchen was clean, although the boy could smell the freshly-made coffee from the half-full pot in the coffeemaker. Hungry and knowing where his grandfather kept the breakfast cereals, bowls and milk, Davy quickly poured himself a bowl and settled down to the table for a quiet and somewhat lonely meal.
He rinsed his bowl and put it in the dishwasher, then headed for the den and the video game that he kept here at Grandpa's. He was just walking past his dad with the set of headphones to keep from disturbing his father's sleep while he entertained himself when the cell phone on the coffee table chirped once. Davy dove for the appliance and trotted from the room with it before it had a chance to rouse his father, opened the device, punched Talk and said, "Hello?"
There was a silence on the other end of the line for a moment, and then a gentle voice asked pointedly, "Who is this?"
Davy frowned. "This is David Parker. Who is THIS?"
The voice chuckled. "Ah! Nice to meet you, Davy. I'm your Uncle Ethan."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Dr. Ira Samuels gazed down sympathetically into the young woman's fearful face. "Your father is lucky just to be alive, Miss Broots. He could just as easily bled to death while waiting to be rescued."
"I know that," Debbie said softly. "I just want to know what his condition is now..."
The kindly-faced orthopedist took gentle hold of the young woman's elbow and led her from the room and down the corridor to a small waiting area where they could talk. "Have a seat," he suggested quietly, taking one himself and waiting with his answer until Mr. Broots' daughter had followed his lead. "Your father has two broken legs - one a compound break that was the source of his blood loss - and his pelvis was crushed. At best, it will take several weeks for the bones to heal properly, and then a great deal of physical therapy, before he'll be able to walk again."
"He's still unconscious though..." she worried.
"Yes," Dr. Samuels nodded. "But this is to be expected with injuries this serious. He lost a great deal of blood, which meant that his brain was not being given as much oxygen as it may have needed for a certain period of time. We will have to see what that will mean as time goes on, but I recommend patience. He's barely out of the recovery room - even if his system hadn't had that kind of stress, he'd be groggy at best, most likely sleeping soundly for hours yet. Frankly, I'll be more concerned about him if he hasn't at least started to come around by this time tomorrow."
"Tomorrow!" Debbie blanched.
"Tomorrow," the doctor spoke softly yet firmly. "In the meanwhile, however, you can best help your father by letting him know you're there - read to him, tell him stories, touch his hand, stroke his face. There is a great deal of evidence that indicates that coma patients DO sense what is going on around them, and that keeping the brain stimulated often helps stimulate or even shorten the recovery period." He paused, thinking. "And if there are no signs of awareness by this time tomorrow, I'll order a round of tests to determine if there has been any brain damage."
Debbie looked down at her hands, no longer able to keep the tears from rolling down her cheeks. "Is he going to die?" she asked softly, unable to keep the question from slipping out.
"His condition IS serious," Dr. Samuels patted her hands comfortingly, "but provided he stays as stable as he is now, I am expecting him to recover." He patted her hand again. "Hang in there, Miss Broots - we'll see your father through this."
Debbie shook hands with the doctor again and watched him move from the little waiting room on his way elsewhere. Shaken and terribly afraid for her father, she slowly rose to her feet and made her way back to his bedside, reclaimed her seat near his head, and picked up her father's hand in hers. "Daddy, wake up," she called brokenly, then laid her head down on the mattress next to him and cried.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Uncle Ethan?" Davy repeated slowly in confusion, then remembered that his father had explained to him that he had family he'd never met. "You're my uncle?"
Ethan smiled - so this was Parker's son. "Kinda your double uncle, Davy. I'm half-brother to both your mom AND your dad." Davy's eyes widened at the idea, but his uncle pressed on. "Isn't this your dad's cell?"
"Yeah," the boy told him, "but he's fast asleep right now. I think he was out all night trying to find Mommy and Uncle Broots."
"Your mom's OK too?" Ethan asked quickly.
"She's asleep upstairs."
"Where's Sydney?"
Davy shrugged as if the man on the other end of the line could see it. "Grandpa was gone when I got up. So are Debbie and Kevin."
Ethan frowned - those names weren't as familiar to him. "Well, will you take a message for me?"
"Sure!" Davy smiled widely.
"You tell your dad that I called, and for him to call me back when he gets a chance. We saw the news reports over here, and your Aunt Em and Grandma are really worried."
Davy blinked. That was right - Daddy had told him he had an aunt and a grandma he'd never met either. "I'll tell him," he assured his uncle, then added in a small voice, "is Grandma there?"
Ethan looked across the kitchen to where Margaret sat with Sammy on her lap, watching him closely for his reactions. "Yes, she's here."
Davy's voice got even smaller. "Can I talk to her? Please?"
"Hang on."
Ethan walked across the room toward Margaret, then held out the phone to her. "Your other grandson would like to say hello to you," he informed her, then watched her mouth drop open in surprise.
Carefully she deposited Sammy on the floor. "Grandma wants to talk on the phone," she told the little one gently, then took the phone from Ethan with a hand that trembled slightly. She tucked the receiver to her ear under her flowing red and grey locks. "Hello, Davy," she said softly.
"Hi Grandma," Davy said, suddenly shy and unsure of why he'd asked to speak to her. "Uncle Ethan said you were worried - but Daddy's OK, really. He's asleep right now."
Margaret closed her eyes thankfully. "I'm really glad to hear that, Davy."
"Grandma?"
"Yes?" Margaret sniffled and pulled herself away from her tears. Jarod was OK - his son wouldn't lie to her. "What is it?"
"Do I get to see you someday - you and Uncle Ethan and Aunt... Aunt..." Davy found himself trying to picture in his mind the lady whose soft voice was on the other end of the phone.
"Emily," Margaret told him gently. "I should think so, Davy. I'd like very much to meet you, sweetheart." She smiled into the phone. "How old are you now?" she asked curiously.
"Eight and a half," the child's voice on the other end answered confidently.
"Davy? Who are you talking to?" Jarod's sleepy voice came from the den, and then the man walked through the kitchen in search of his son.
"Grandma," Davy answered. "Your cell phone rang, and you were asleep, and I thought..." His grey eyes widened, thinking he'd done something wrong.
Jarod woke up fast, then smiled down at his boy. "Grandma, huh? Do you think I could talk to her for a minute?"
"Hey Grandma, Daddy wants to talk to you," he told her quickly. "Maybe I can talk to you again sometime?"
Margaret smiled more widely. "Of course you can, sweetie. So I'll tell you goodbye for now so you can let your dad talk."
"Goodbye, Grandma," Davy said with a touch of wistfulness, then handed the cell to his father.
"Hi Mom," Jarod yawned. "I suppose you saw the news..."
"You weren't caught in that, were you?" Margaret demanded anxiously.
"Nope. I was all the way over in Dover when Syd called - but Parker WAS caught in it, below it actually, as was another friend of ours." Jarod could hear the pause on the other end as his mother began to process his interaction with people she'd known - and run away from - many years ago. "I went in to help them get out. They were caught underground."
"And Miss Parker's OK?" she forced herself to ask.
"Yes," Jarod answered with a nod, realizing his son was listening to his side of the conversation. "Mom..."
"Are you just about done there? When are you coming home?"
The Pretender closed his eyes. "Mom..."
Margaret's voice got softer, more accusing. "You promised, Jarod."
"I know I did..." He sighed. "I have a few more things to set in order here, and then I'll be home again..." He swallowed hard. This wasn't going to be easy. "But you need to know that I'll only be there long enough to setting things in California before I come back here."
"Jarod!" His mother's voice was broken, desperate.
"Mom, I have a little boy who's more important to me than... just about anything except, maybe, his mother..."
"Who just happens to be a Centre-trained bitch who chased you back and forth across the country for years," Margaret snapped. "You have a family here who loves you, who is waiting for you to come home, and you abandon them for..."
Jarod shook his head sadly. "I have family here too, Mom. We'll discuss this when I get home." He sighed. "Let me talk to Ethan, OK?"
There was a shuffling noise through the phone line as Margaret handed off the telephone to her foster son and pushed back from the table angrily. "Man, big brother! What did you tell her?" Ethan asked in surprise as he watched his foster mother storm out the arcadia doors to stand with lowered head in the middle of the back yard.
"I told her I wasn't coming back to California to stay," he admitted quietly, "that when I did come I'd be settling accounts up there and then moving back here to stay." Ethan was silent for a moment, and Jarod started to wonder if he'd pissed off his half-brother now too. "Ethan?"
"I can't say I haven't been expecting this," the younger man informed his brother quietly. "You always were in love with Parker - all it took was for you two to reconnect as allies rather than enemies for that to cinch things. Davy being your son as well as hers only added to the reasons for you to want to make a go of it with her."
Jarod looked down and ruffled his son's hair. "I want to help raise my son - especially now that I've gotten to know him - not to mention watch over Sydney. He WAS my father until Dad and I connected, you know..."
"Don't mention Sydney to Mom, Jarod," Ethan suggested. "She has never forgiven him for not helping Catherine try to rescue you."
"Too late," Jarod sighed, "although I only mentioned him in passing."
Ethan sighed too. "I'll talk to her. But I'll leave it to you to try to explain yourself to Em and Jay. They're going to be super pissed at you."
"And Mom isn't?" Jarod returned sarcastically. "Sorry, little bro - you didn't deserve that."
"That's OK. Any idea how soon you'll be back now that the Centre doesn't exist anymore?"
Jarod snorted his laughter almost silently. "Oh, the Centre still exists, Ethan - it's just that the Tower has been blown to smithereens and your sister is the Big Cheese there now. Lyle is dead, Raines is dead, old man Parker is dead - and the Triumverate gave control of it to Parker, lock, stock and barrel just before things went to Hell..."
Ethan whooped. "You're kidding!"
"Nope. And she's offered me Syd's old job when he retires - which, considering everything, will probably be fairly soon. Just think how much work I have ahead of me, turning the Psychogenics Department back around the way it should be..." Jarod yawned again.
"Did you tell Mom that?"
"She didn't exactly give me a chance."
"Hmmmm..." Ethan had to admit, Margaret didn't sound very open to anything Jarod was saying there at the end. "Well, back to the big question: any idea when you're coming back this way - for however long you'll be here?"
"A lot will depend on whether or not I come back alone," Jarod said after a moment's thought. "I'd like Davy to meet the rest of his family." He smiled down as his son began to bounce in happy excitement. "And I think it would do Mom good to make peace with Parker, if she can."
"That's a lot to ask her right now," Ethan cautioned. "Let me talk to her a bit - get her used to the idea a little more. Maybe I can offer her time with Davy as an enticement. I'm just glad that you're OK. We were all a bit worried when we saw the news and didn't hear from you."
"I had to go for Parker and Broots, Ethan - they were both trapped underground when the Tower was destroyed. I didn't have time to call..."
"They're both OK?" Ethan worried. "I didn't sense that Parker was hurt..."
"Parker's fine. Broots isn't though."
"And that's some of what you have to settle before you head back this way?"
Jarod nodded. "Yup."
"Well, you take good care of yourself, big bro - and keep in touch, OK? Hopefully I can have Mom turned around by the next time we talk."
Jarod closed the cell phone after bidding his brother goodbye. "I'm sorry, Daddy - I answered your phone so you could sleep..." Davy worried at him with big eyes.
"It's OK, Davy," he said, ruffling the boy's hair again. "I appreciate the thoughtfulness."
"Are we going to go see Grandma soon?"
Jarod ruffled the boy's hair yet again. "We'll see, Davy. We'll see."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The elevator doors slipped silently aside as Sydney and Kevin waited, then Sydney's face lit up in a grin. "Sam!"
The burly ex-sweeper was nearly too large a man to fit comfortably in the wheelchair, and the orderly doing the pushing was a young man only half his size. The dark eyes lit at the sight of his friends. "Hey there, Doc. What are you two doing here?"
"Broots is here," Sydney told the family friend somberly. "We brought Debbie so she could be with him." He smiled again. "But what are you up to?"
Sam's face split with a grin. "I'm getting sprung this morning. I get a week of sitting around and doing nothing while the cuts in back heal." He saw Sydney take in the bathrobe and surgical green pullover. "My own clothes were demolished in the explosion - glass and blood all over everything. I had to sign my life away to have something decent to wear home." Then he sobered. "Sydney... I left Miss Parker in her office in the Tower..."
The older man's hand landed comfortingly on the ex-sweeper's shoulder. "She's OK, Sam. She was down in the morgue, checking out that Raines was really dead..."
"What about Broots - you said he was here?" Sam could see from Sydney's and Kevin's face that the news on that front wasn't as happy. "How bad?" he asked quietly.
"Bad enough," Sydney replied slowly. "Jarod said that he had at least one broken leg and lost a lot of blood. Debbie was going to talk to the doctor while Kevin and I got some coffee." He turned to Kevin and handed him the covered Styrofoam cup. "Why don't you take this up to Deb while I visit with Sam a bit."
Kevin took the cup from the outstretched hand. "I'm glad to see you, Sam," he said with a small smile, then waited while the orderly pushed Sam's wheelchair from the elevator so that he could take its place, pushing the button for the post-operative medical floor. "See you in a bit, Sydney?"
The psychiatrist nodded at the young man and then returned his attention to Sam as the elevator door slid closed again. The ex-sweeper leveled an assessing look on the psychiatrist in his turn. "And what are YOU doing up and around and active again? I'm surprised Jarod let you..."
Sydney shrugged very carefully. "Jarod really had no choice, and neither did I. Parker didn't make it home until after three in the morning, and Jarod didn't come in until much later than that. Neither of them was in any state to drive Debbie to Dover, you were here, Kevin CAN'T drive, Deb shouldn't drive while upset - so that left me." He looked down at Sam. "And how are you getting home?"
Sam would have shrugged except that it pulled any number of tiny stitches, so instead he grimaced and shook his head. "Cab, I suppose..."
"Unless you want to wait around until we get ready to leave..." Sydney suggested. He looked up at the orderly. "Could we just call you back when we're ready to leave, and you can take him to my car?"
The orderly nodded. "How about I park you in the main lobby," he told Sam, "and your friend here can talk to the volunteer desk when it comes time to pack you into a car?"
"Sounds good to me," Sam said contentedly, then looked forward as the wheelchair began moving again with Sydney walking slowly at his side. "I wasn't looking forward to the cab fare back to Blue Cove anyway..."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Kevin wasn't sure what to do. He stood just inside Broots' hospital room, watching as Debbie softly wept into her father's hand. Finally the young woman lifted her head, wiped her tears away, and called, "Daddy, I'm here," to him, and her action broke him out of his uncomfortable freeze.
He moved up behind her and put a hand on her shoulder, letting her know he was there, and then extended the other hand in front of her, offering her the cup of coffee.
"Thanks," she looked up at him with eyes red and puffy, then took the coffee and set it on the little end table beyond her for the time being.
"Are you OK?" he asked in concern, not moving his hand from her shoulder.
She swallowed hard, then nodded. "The doctor said that he won't start to worry about him still being unconscious until tomorrow. He's just out of surgery, and would be really groggy anyway..." She glanced back behind her friend, and then back up in his face again. "Where's Grandpa?"
"He's downstairs with Sam right now," Kevin told her. "Sam was being released."
Debbie closed her eyes for a long moment. "I'm glad Sam's OK," she commented, then looked down into her father's sleeping face again. "I just want my Dad to wake up and be OK too." A tear trickled down her cheek. "Why did it have to be HIM that got hurt so bad?"
Kevin had no answer for her, and it bothered him greatly that such an important question like that didn't have an easy answer. "Do you want me to go get Sydney for you?" he asked instead, knowing that the older man would probably have a much better handle on such things.
"No, don't go yet," Deb replied, reaching up for his hand as it still lay on her shoulder before he could pull it away. "I'm really glad you're here."
He felt her twining her fingers with his. "I'm sorry I don't have an answer for your question, Deb," he murmured apologetically.
Her fingers tightened with his. "It's OK, Kev - that's one of those questions that really doesn't have a good answer." She drew in a shaky breath. "Life is just unfair sometimes. Daddy used to tell me that all the time, and even Grandpa said it a few times."
"I'm not used to having questions asked that don't eventually have answers," Kevin mused as much to himself as to her. "I'm not even used to having to question the fairness of anything." He put his other hand on her other shoulder. "Here I am, supposedly one of the smarter people in the world, and I want to help you and feel so... helpless..."
Debbie rubbed her cheek against his hand in hers. "But you ARE helping, Kevin. You're here - and that's a lot." She felt his hand move from her shoulder and stroke her hair very tentatively. "That's all Grandpa Sydney could do either - and I know that even though he's down with Sam, he's here with me too."
Kevin shook his head, still confused, but moved a little closer so that Deb didn't have to stretch to hold his hand and he didn't have to stretch to stroke her hair.
Deb felt him move in closer behind her, and she leaned her head back a little against his stomach as she reached for her father's hand once more. "Wake up, Daddy," she called softly. "Kevin's here too now. C'mon - time to wake up."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Jarod pushed open the door to the guest bedroom - Kevin's room - and smiled. Davy was contentedly playing video games and movies downstairs in the den, and the bed up here did look inviting.
He shed his shoes not far from where Miss Parker had shed hers, then moved around the end of the bed to the other side so that he could slip beneath the covers behind her and pull her into his arms. He yawned again once as he felt her snuggle back against him and moan as if the movement was uncomfortable, then settle back to sleep.
Comfortable and horizontal at last, Jarod took two deep breaths and was once more fast asleep.
Feedback, please: mbumpus_99@hotmail.com
Seeing Daylight
by MMB
Miss Parker looked at her watch as the fireman steered the police cruiser into Sydney's driveway: three-thirty in the morning. A glance at the windows of the house told the tale - everything was dark; no doubt all of them were asleep or at least dozing. And she didn't have a key to just let herself in without disturbing someone. Damn.
She looked over at the fireman who had been her impromptu chauffeur. "Thanks. I appreciate the ride."
"You're welcome, Miss. I'm glad you... are OK..." the young man responded awkwardly. He had no idea how to properly speak to someone who had been through what this woman had.
"Take care, and get some rest," she patted the young man's arm and climbed from the car. She turned and pulled her fingers through her hair, looking at the two-story tract house she'd frankly wondered if she would ever see again. What awaited her inside would be a mixed bag - Sydney and Davy would be thrilled to have her back; but Deb... She really wasn't looking forward to giving the young woman the news that her father was still among the missing.
The porch light flared suddenly and the front door opened quietly, and a sleepy-looking Kevin poked his head out to see what the commotion with car doors had been about. When he saw Miss Parker, his face broke into a wide smile. Here, at last, was one of two people that would make so much of the hurting go away. He held the door open for her and hit the foyer light switch. "They'll be so glad to see you..." he stated softly, closing the door behind her.
"They're asleep, I take it..." Miss Parker relaxed against the inside of the front door, the adrenaline she'd been running on for the last twelve hours coming finally to an end.
He nodded. "Davy's in my bed for the night, and Sydney finally convinced Debbie to take his bed so she could..." His voice caught, and Miss Parker knew instantly that the young woman had not taken the lack of news about her father's condition well.
"Where's Sydney then?" she whispered.
"In here," came the lightly accented voice from the direction of the den, followed by a grunt. "And if you don't get in here yourself posthaste, I'll have to get up..."
Miss Parker's face softened, and she sped through the house to the darkened den - only to find that Sydney was struggling to his feet anyway in the dim moonlight. The moment his eyes lit on her, his whole face began to shine with relief and happiness. "Parker!" he said as he barely had a chance to balance himself erect and open his arms to her before she had wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him tightly to her.
"Syd!" Her whisper was broken, and at long last she released all the emotions that she'd forced herself to keep tightly locked down so that she could do what was necessary. Her sobs were silent ones, but they shook her entire frame.
Sydney folded her into his arms and held on tightly, his eyes closed and tears of relief pouring down his cheeks as he kissed the side of her head gently and then put his slightly grizzled cheek to hers and allowed himself the luxury of breathing freely again. All the waiting without knowing whether she lived or not had taught him just how central his adopted daughter had become to his world. The relief of just holding her close to him again after living through the nightmare of the possibility of her being lost to him forever was overwhelming, and he in turn began to sob as well.
Kevin watched quietly for a while, then turned and walked towards the front of the house and the living room, turning off the light in the foyer as he went. There was a couch in there he could stretch out on and doze again that would allow the two in the den some privacy for their reunion. And he would still be on hand should another car arrive in the drive bearing one or more of the other two from this family who were still missing.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Jarod frowned. Not quite completely masked by the sounds of heavy boots on the stairs was the ominous low sound of stressed construction. The movement of the backhoes above in opening the stairwell had probably weakened things even more than before, and it was only a matter of time now before things began to start falling in.
The two rescuers behind him were following at the same rapid pace he was leading them, and he was almost but not quite hitting a breakneck speed. If Broots hadn't emerged with the rest of the SL-17 staff, he must be hurt and hurt badly. In that case, time was essential for a number of reasons. The sooner they got to SL-17 and could assess the situation - if there even WAS one - the sooner they could start back up again. And one thing was for certain: the trip back up the stairs would be taking a helluva lot longer than the trip down.
There it was - the door with the huge "17" painted on it. Jarod pushed through and then flicked on his heavy lantern. Evidently the generators supplying power for this sublevel had not had their full allotment of gas supplied, because it was pitch-black except for the strong beams of light from the flashlights and lanterns. He checked that his companions had joined him on the level, then led the way quickly down the corridor toward the double doors of the Sim Lab.
The doors, while closed, were unlocked - and Jarod swallowed. Parker said that with Syd home, they SHOULD have been locked tightly; and so this indicated that Broots had at least made it this far and yet not back out to lock them again. He forced the doors to slide on their tracks so that it was easy to slip through them into the huge lab, then shone his beam about the room.
In the twelve to thirteen years since he'd seen the inside of this room, nothing evidently had changed much. The worktable at which he had sat to do so many of his simpler sims still sat off to one side, with probably the same three chairs tucked neatly in place. There was the small chess set of clear and frosted plastic he had used so many times in mock battle with Sydney, sitting off on a shelf near the bookcase. Various electrical gadgets lined other shelves, probably used to register and measure brain wave activity in research subjects.
Then, at the back of the room, Sydney's office door was closed. Jarod pointed to it with his lantern beam. "Over here, guys," he said and, with another deep breath and apprehensive swallow, led the way. Again, the door opened easily, a sign that Broots had made it to the office. A sweep of the inner office quickly told the tale - and Jarod refrained from any more steps down memory lane at the sight that presented itself to him.
The heavy file cabinet that stood next to Sydney's desk had toppled and fallen, open, on Broots' lower body as he lay on his stomach. A briefcase was clutched in one hand that had obviously been used to strike the cabinet, as evidenced by the damage to the case exterior. Broots was still and very pale on the floor, and there was an ominously dark pool emerging from beneath the file cabinet.
Jarod knelt next to his friend and put his fingers to his neck in search of a pulse. "He's still alive, but just barely," he announced to his team and then rose to help remove the massive file cabinet.
"Oh sweet Jesus!" exclaimed the younger rescuer at the sight of the ragged bone of Broots' left leg protruding through the pant leg of his trousers. "He's lucky he hasn't bled to death already!"
"Yet, you mean," the second rescuer retorted ominously. "Jarod, bring the medical case! We need to get a tourniquet on this leg NOW!"
The three rescuers set to work, functioning seamlessly as a team as if they had trained long and hard together. Gently Jarod pried Broots' fingers from the handle of the brief case and straightened the arm so that it could be secured with his body to the backboard that was being carefully applied. It wasn't easy getting the many straps that would hold head and shoulders and belly and pelvis and knees and feet to the board slipped beneath the damaged body, but the rescuers worked smoothly and soon lifted the board and righted it.
Again Jarod checked for a pulse, then listened to the very shallow breathing. Broots was in poor shape and deteriorating fast, but at least the bleeding from his leg had been reduced to mere seepage. Jarod applied a pressure bandage to the wound while the others packed up as much as they could.
Then leaving Jarod to gather up the medical case and shoulder the backpack with the extra flashlights, the two fresher rescuers each took one end of the backboard and lifted Broots between them. Jarod thought for a moment, then reached down and snagged the briefcase that Broots had been packing as well - so that at least his injuries wouldn't have been for nothing. He then lifted the strong lantern beam so that the team carrying the injured man could see their way to begin to move.
"Take him up feet first," Jarod suggested as they gained the landing of the stairwell. "He's probably already deeply in shock, but anything we can do to help him along can't hurt."
"Good idea," the younger rescuer said, and the two switched their positions on the back board so that he was holding the feet end of the board behind him and his partner was holding the end with Broots' head directly in front of him.
With Jarod walking alongside so as to illumine their way, they began the long, tedious climb back out of the pit.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Finally Miss Parker and Sydney stood just holding each other quietly, their sobs each reduced to mere weeping and then ceased altogether. He shifted on his feet carefully, feeling the ache of his side begin to wear through the half-dose of pain medication he'd allowed Kevin to administer earlier - enough to take the edge from the pain without leaving him in drugged fog again. She felt his movement and lifted her head from his shoulder immediately. "Sit down, Sydney, before you fall down."
"Sit here with me for a while," he responded, sinking gladly back onto the couch and then patting the cushion next to him. "Tell me," he added, reaching for a hand and pulling her down next to him as he wanted.
She shrugged. "I missed most of the action at first. I was down in the morgue, making sure Raines really was an ex-Raines at last, when everything... went. Then I was going through the entire place, getting people up those damned stairs... It wasn't until I got to the surface that I saw... I realized..."
"Where's Jarod, Parker?" Sydney asked, suddenly realizing that she'd come home alone. "Where's Broots?"
Her head drooped. "Jarod's gone down to SL-17, looking for Broots," she told him softly, her voice broken and wavering. "I didn't know... when I was there... I didn't check..." She choked back yet a new set of sobs. "I thought the Sim Lab was locked up tight... It's all my fault..."
Sydney found himself embracing her all over again. "No it isn't. If you didn't know he had gone down there..."
"But I didn't check!"
"You didn't think you needed to, and from the sounds of it, you felt time was of the essence," he soothed, pulling her head to his shoulder again and smoothing her head back. "You're exhausted, and you're not thinking clearly anymore."
"That's no excuse," she gulped. "What am I going to tell Debbie? I walked right past her Dad and left him..."
"Stop it," he chided firmly. "You're not going to tell Debbie anything at the moment - and maybe by the time you're both awake again, Jarod will have news for us so you don't HAVE to tell her anything." He smoothed her hair again. "Broots might not have approved, but when I couldn't calm her earlier, I gave her a very stiff drink and then had Kevin help her up the stairs to my bedroom once it started to work. She's been dead to the world ever since, so you have the time to get some rest yourself first before you face her."
She sighed deeply, wishing she didn't feel quite so relieved at not having to talk to Deb right away. "OK," she conceded to the situation without any more complaint.
"I'm glad you're seeing things my way," he commented softly, still enjoying the fact that she was actually here, with him, alive and healthy. He smoothed her hair yet again, his hands moving in the caress that helped him keep reassuring himself that this wasn't just a wishful dream. She was beginning to relax against him, droop a little even, and at that point he knew that he needed to push her one last time for the evening. "Why don't you go up and cuddle with your son..."
"Does that mean I have to climb more stairs?" she asked, her voice giving evidence as to just how unappealing that prospect was. "I've seen and climbed more stairs today, Syd, than I ever want to see again in my life!" She snuggled on his shoulder a little. "Besides, I'm not sure I even have the energy to move again. You have a comfortable shoulder. I could just close my eyes and drop off right here..."
Sydney smiled. "As much as I myself wouldn't mind much, I know my side would probably complain bitterly after a while - and Davy could really use the snuggles more. I'm content - I've had my share for the time being." He kissed her forehead and then pushed at her to sit up more erectly. "As for facing yet another staircase, however... think of it this way: once you're up this one, you won't have to come back down again for a good long while - and you can take a nice, long, hot shower to loosen up your muscles before even trying..."
"There is that..." she answered with a deep sigh. "God, Syd, but I'm tired."
"Then go to bed, Parker. Sleep yourself out. You've earned it."
"You'll call me the moment Jarod calls?" she demanded in a soft and increasingly sleepy voice.
"I promise. Now GO!" He kissed her again and pushed her away. "GO!"
She kissed his cheek in return and then groaned as she forced her muscles to move her again and put her back on her feet. Only one more flight of stairs, she promised herself as she again forced herself to put one foot in front of the other and climb up to where her little boy lay asleep and waiting for her.
Davy looked very small in that double bed, curled over on his side. Miss Parker smiled down at her son and moved quietly to the other side of the bed and kicked off her shoes before sitting down on the mattress. Then with a soft sigh, she lifted the covers and slid beneath them and over to where she could gather her son against her. He roused slightly and, not quite completely awake, murmured, "You're OK, Mommy?"
"I'm fine, baby," she responded very quietly, kissing the top of his head gently. "Go back to sleep."
He did - and with another release of breath, she followed him into slumber.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Jarod took a deep breath of fresh, ocean air, looking out across the debris field toward the Atlantic beyond. In the sky above the horizon, already there was a hint of color that bespoke the sunrise that was only an hour or so away. The sound of machinery and power tools had, he had no doubt, continued non-stop throughout the night, cutting through beams and through concrete slabs in a never-ending search for more victims and/or survivors of the previous day's catastrophe.
He himself had now long since passed the point of exhaustion and was running on a rapidly diminishing supply of pure adrenaline. That adrenaline had carried him those last ten flights of stairs at the bottom end of the backboard, near Broots' head. Once or twice during that long trek did Jarod hear a slight moan from his injured friend. Several times during the ascent, the team had stopped to switch positions and burdens so that no one person carried for too long in the same posture. That had made the journey upwards go faster, for neither of the other team members had tired completely.
And now the EMT's were securing the board with Broots still firmly strapped on to a transport gurney. Jarod tapped the one on the shoulder. "Which hospital are you taking him to?"
"Queen of Mercy in Dover," was the answer without turning from his task.
"Thanks." Jarod tiredly removed his protective hat and coat. "Look, I'm a friend of his - if anything should happen..." He swallowed hard. "Let me give you the number for where this man's family is. Just in case..."
"Thanks, buddy!" The EMT pulled a small notepad from a breast pocket and quickly jotted down the patient's name and the phone number at which family could be reached. "He seems stable enough, and we'll have the ER ready for him by the time we get there. If you're going to be talking to his family soon, let them know that he'll probably be in surgery moments after he is admitted."
"I'll take care of that," Jarod promised and sighed as the back door to the ambulance closed and it sped away, siren blaring and lights flashing.
It was time to let this pretend go - he had accomplished everything he'd hoped for. Miss Parker was probably already home at Sydney's and asleep, and now Broots was at least accounted for. He could only hope Sam had somehow seen fit to contact the group too, but had no more energy to begin another search.
"Russell," came a call across the staging area, and Jarod shuffled slowly toward an equally tired looking Captain Talmann. "I'm assuming I don't need to call a police officer to escort you..." the fire captain stated firmly.
"No, sir," Jarod sighed, dropping the suspenders holding up his heavy canvas trousers. Indeed, all he wanted at the moment was to lay his head down on a soft pillow and not move for the next day. "Thanks for all..."
"Oh for God's sake, Russell, thank YOU for all you've done here today. You went above and beyond, as far as I'm concerned." Talmann extended a grateful hand to the Californian. "You ever decide to leave the Left Coast, you just remember that you can have a billet in my company ANYtime."
"Thanks, Cap," Jarod nodded and shook the man's hand. "If I ever get tired of my own job, I'll give your offer some consideration." He turned to walk back to his car.
"Hold up, Russell," Talmann called, then turned and summoned a pair of police officers. "I need someone to drive this man home in his own vehicle. He's in no shape to drive, and has earned a little consideration for having volunteered his services for so many hours to our search and rescue."
"Cap..." Jarod complained, but Talmann wouldn't hear him. And too tired to complain more than once, he meekly accompanied the officers who quickly agreed to the short assignment. He climbed into the passenger seat of his little sports car and leaned his head back against the headrest tiredly while listening to the skill with which the officer handled the sensitive transmission of his high-powered car.
He debated calling to tell Debbie the news that her father had been found, but he knew that she would need considerable support once she heard the extent of his visible injuries. He needed to tell her himself, and tell her that she needed to be on her way to Dover in the morning as soon as he rested up. He knew she'd probably be in no shape to drive herself, and he was in no shape either until he got some sleep. With Sam out of commission, and Miss Parker hopefully asleep at last, there was no one capable of driving her until morning anyway - unless things took a major turn for the worse.
He'd just have to weather an angry Debbie when she awoke to find out that nobody had told her anything. Hopefully he could come through that intact, considering he'd have Sydney to back him up.
The commute between the Centre and Sydney's was a short one, Sydney having long ago purchased a home on the end of the village closest to the Centre. Jarod waved goodbye to the officer who had done such a good job with his car, then sorted through the keys in his hand for the one to Syd's front door as he yawned his way up the walk. But before he could insert the key in the lock, the porch light had come to life and the door was swinging open with a sleepy Kevin scratching his tousled sandy hair and smiling at him.
"Good to see you back again," the young man said softly as he closed and locked the door behind his older counterpart.
"Is everyone asleep?" Jarod asked, yawning again.
"Yup," the young Pretender nodded. "I got Sydney to take another dose of pain medication after Miss Parker came home, and Davy and Deb have been out for hours."
Jarod ran his fingers over his beard thoughtfully. "I think I'll stretch out in the den for a couple of hours then..."
"That's where Sydney is, on the couch in there. Davy and Miss Parker are in my room, and Deb's in Sydney's room," Kevin quickly informed the tired man.
"There's a recliner in the den that's comfortable that I've slept in a couple of times," Jarod nodded. "I just need to rest for a few hours - and then I'll be able to take Deb to Dover to be with her Dad..."
Kevin's eyes grew wide. "You found him? He was alive?" He began to smile. "Deb will be thrilled..."
"Listen," Jarod warned the young man carefully, "if you talk to her before I do, don't get her hopes up. Yes, Broots was alive, but only barely. He's lost a LOT of blood from a compound fracture of his left leg, and God only knows what else could have been damaged that we couldn't see. He was stable, at least, when they started transporting him to the hospital. But even at that, I'd imagine that by the time I get her there later today, he'll either still be in surgery or under heavy pain medication and out of it completely." He rubbed his eyes tiredly.
"That bad?" Kevin's voice was hushed. This was mixed news for Deb - she'd be relieved that her Dad was alive, only to get more worried yet about his condition and/or whether he'd survive after all.
"Yeah, Kev, that bad." Jarod yawned again. "If we don't get a call between now and then, it means he's still with us - seriously hurt but still alive. But right now I've just GOT to get some rest..." He patted the young man on the shoulder. "We'll talk later, OK?"
Kevin nodded, then left the foyer light on until he knew Jarod had gained the den and then turned it off and made his way back to his couch in the living room. He stretched out on the couch, eyes wide open, thinking.
Sydney had been right - at least for the most part. The bad hadn't lasted forever. All of their little family's members had at least been accounted for, and most had been returned safe and sound, more or less - all but one. For Deb, the bad hadn't come to an end yet. And yet, if what Sydney said was true, it would eventually.
Kevin decided that he wanted to be part of what made the bad go away for Deb. One way or the other.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"I think we have another live one here," called out a rescue worker from a position not far from where Ngawe and Tanaka had been extracted. He bent down to the tumbled cement and steel. "Can you hear me, buddy?"
"Hai - yes," came the weak and pain-tightened answer from somewhere inside that mess.
"Hang on, then," the rescuer told the hidden man, then turned again. "Alive and conscious! Get a team over her!"
Fujimori would have taken a deep breath of relief, but right now it hurt very badly just to take in the shallow breaths that were keeping him alive. Instead, he resumed his quiet chanting, with every repetition reaffirming his oath that if he should escape this debaucle alive, he would shave his head and find his peace of mind in a monastery in Kyoto.
He had, through the disastrous leadership of two generations of Tanakas, learned that the Yakuza path was no longer for him. He had much to atone for in his next lives - best he got started on it immediately.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Charles Harrison had had a very long night, and he was in no mood for any more surprises - but the Blue Cove Police Chief knew that, in dealing with the Centre, it was unlikely that he would get through the night without at least a couple of fairly nasty ones. Right now, looking down at the still form of the gunshot victim on the edge of the Centre property after viewing the strangling victim just a few yards away, he knew he was probably looking at the kind of surprise he REALLY didn't want.
Once Officer Donaldson's report had come across the squawk, he had issued a priority request for a forensics team from Dover - and now he watched as the patient scientists moved slowly and methodically through the surrounding brush, photographing and collecting evidence with gloved hands. One had picked up the little black plastic box after photographing it and carried it over to him. "Detonator," the man pronounced knowledgeably, "and of relatively new and innovative design. Considering what went on here," the man jerked his head in the direction of the mess that once had been the Centre Tower, "I'd say that this little unit probably was the trigger to THAT."
"But that doesn't make sense," Harrison screwed up his face in confusion. "If this guy's the bomber, who shot him?"
The forensics specialist just shook his head. "Looks like you have a mystery on your hands, Chief."
"Several," the police chief growled in response. Two obvious murders on top of an explosion this destructive was just WAY too big for him or his rural constabulary - or even State law enforcement - to handle. He knew that when he got back to the office, his next move would be to call in the Feds. They would have the resources and manpower to figure out what the Hell happened here.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Sydney roused as his internal clock signaled the end of the need for sleep, and then he roused further as he heard the soft sound of snoring from the other side of the room. He stretched carefully, glad not to feel his side begin to ache immediately, then rolled to a sitting position and yawned widely while scratching his head and then rubbing his hands to smooth down his hair into some semblance of civility.
Jarod was sprawled in the recliner across the room from him, his arms wrapped around himself, snoring very softly. Sydney rose to his feet carefully, snagging one of the light blankets that Deb and Kevin had used to create a day-bed for him and placing it very gently over the reclined form to provide warmth to the sleeping Pretender. God only knew when the man had finally made it home - or what kind of news he had brought with him for Deb.
Then with another yawn, Sydney shuffled across the room and into the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee. It was already fully morning - the others would be starting to get up soon, and all except Davy would be needing caffeine today after their rough day and night. Indeed, even as he fussed with filters and filling the water chamber for the coffeemaker, he heard stirring behind him. "Good morning," Kevin yawned behind him.
"Good morning to you," Sydney responded, finding it far less painful this morning to make the small movements than in days past. Jarod's insistence on his staying down and quiet were having a beneficial effect after all. "Were you awake when Jarod came home?"
"Yeah," Kevin yawned again. "It wasn't all that long ago..." He looked up at the kitchen clock. "Maybe three hours now..."
Sydney nodded, then finished assembling the coffee maker and punched the switch on the side to begin the brewing process before turning to his new protégé. "Was there any word?"
Kevin nodded. "He said he found Broots - and that unless we got a call, which we didn't, that he was seriously hurt but being treated in the hospital. Something about a broken leg and blood loss..."
"Will he live?" Deb's voice was small and frightened, and both men started and turned to stare at her as she stood in the kitchen door.
"Deb..." Kevin felt horrible. Jarod had told him not to say much to her.
Sydney, however, was already moving towards his granddaughter. "Sweetheart," he began, quickly putting an arm about her shoulders. "Kevin said that Jarod told him that he found your father - he's hurt, but alive, and has been taken to the hospital."
"I heard that," the young woman said, appreciating the embrace but wanting to know more. "Will he live?"
"As far as I know," Jarod's tired voice spoke from behind her. "The EMT's said that they'd call only if there had been a problem - and nobody's called. Your father was as stable as we could get him when the ambulance left for Dover."
"I want to see him," Debbie announced in no uncertain terms.
"I'll take you," Jarod promised. "Let me shower and get some coffee down me first, though, OK? It was a very long night."
"I'm sorry, Uncle Jarod." Debbie felt a tear drop to her cheek as she moved determinedly from her grandfather's embrace and lifted her arms to hug the tired Pretender. "Thank you for finding and saving my Dad."
"Jarod, you're in no shape to be driving," Sydney scolded with a frown. "I can drive Deb to Dover myself while you get some rest..."
"Syd, you shouldn't drive with the pain medication..."
Sydney shook his head. "I haven't had any since about three this morning, and even then, I kept Kevin from giving me the full dose. I'll behave myself, not do much moving or walking, and I can pop Tylenol's if I get in a bad way." He put a hand on his hip. "Be reasonable, Jarod. You and Parker are exhausted, Sam's out of commission, Kevin can't drive and Deb SHOULDN'T drive. That leaves me."
Jarod stared at his old mentor over the top of Debbie's head, and when his tired mind couldn't come up with one reasonable argument, he knew Sydney was right - he was still exhausted and in no condition to drive all the way into Dover. "I hate it when you're right in situations like these," he grumbled.
"You go back to your recliner," Sydney ordered firmly, pointing, "and stay there for at least another four hours. Deb, let me get myself shaved and properly dressed first. We'll leave after breakfast."
"Grandpa, are you sure you don't want me to drive?" Deb asked, letting go of a surprisingly compliant Jarod so that he could head back to the den and his rest.
"Positive," Sydney stated flatly. "If I drive, I don't have to battle that damned seat belt over my wound."
"Can I come as well?" Kevin asked hesitantly.
Sydney's eyes flitted back and forth between the young Pretender and his granddaughter knowingly. "That might be a good idea." He pointed to the refrigerator. "Let's get some breakfast made, and then let's get going. I'm sure Deb wants some definitive word on her father sometime before lunch."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Sydney put a gentle hand on Kevin's shoulder, holding the young man back as Debbie approached her father's bed in Intensive Care in shock and horror. Broots was very pale and still, with his lower torso and thighs encased in plaster and heavy bandaging from the end of the plaster to his ankles. The IV stand held plastic containers of both blood and medication that was dripping slowly into his left hand.
A nurse came through the door behind the two men and stepped up next to the young woman. "He hasn't regained consciousness yet, Miss Broots." She put a hand on Deb's shoulder. "I've notified Doctor Samuels that you're here so that you can have all your questions answered. He said he'd be around presently."
Debbie nodded wordlessly and took the seat next to her father's head. She reached out a hand to capture his and brought it to her lips. "Daddy," she called softly. "I'm here, Daddy. Wake up, please." She cradled the hand against her cheek and closed her eyes.
Sydney heard a small sound from the young man next to him, and he turned to watch Kevin watch Deb with an utterly helpless and distressed look on his face. He stepped up to where the young woman was sitting and put a hand gently on her shoulder. "I think Kevin and I will go down to the cafeteria for a bit - do you want us to bring you back some coffee?" When she nodded, he turned and took the young Pretender's forearm with a hand. "Come on, Kevin. Let's leave Deb with her dad for a bit."
Kevin hung back a bit until Deb looked up and saw his action and said softly, "I'll be OK. You go on with Sydney." Then, a bit confused, he turned and allowed Sydney to escort him from the room and down the hallway.
"But..." the young man frowned in confusion, "don't we want to stay, to help her..."
Sydney clapped the young man on the shoulder as they stepped through the cafeteria doors. "Sometimes, if you care about someone, you have to give them room for their emotions - even if they are difficult ones." He gently directed the young man to the machine that dispensed coffee. "Deb's relationship with her father is a very special one - one that neither you nor I really should try to interfere with."
"You mean, like your relationship with Miss Parker?" the young man asked innocently as he took his turn getting coffee. The older man shot his new protégé a look that Kevin saw, making him want to explain. "When she came home last night, when..." he paused, trying find a way to say what he meant. "I felt like I was intruding just being there..."
Sydney nodded knowingly. "Yes, that's what I mean." He studied Kevin's expression of confusion. "The relationship between two people who care for each other in any way is a very special and private one - no matter how many people are in our lives, the relationship between ourselves and each one of them is unique and special. The relationship that is developing between the two of us falls into that category too," he added pointedly. "There are simply those times when privacy needs to be protected and honored, even within the overall sense of family ties. The trick you'll have to learn is to recognize when those private times come along so that you can respect them. You recognized one last night - this is another."
"Last night was easy - both you and Miss Parker were very... emotional. But Mr. Broots isn't even conscious..."
"That doesn't really make a difference to Deb, Kevin. There are things that she wouldn't feel comfortable expressing to her father in front of anybody else - no matter how close they might be to both Deb and Broots otherwise. Whether he is conscious enough to hear them is complete beside the point."
Kevin sighed heavily, and his shoulders sagged as he turned from the coffee dispenser. "I still don't understand."
"Don't worry about it," Sydney soothed, pointing the way to an unoccupied table near the door. "These are the kinds of things that you learn through example - and sometimes by stepping where you aren't welcome and being reprimanded for it. I thought I'd save you the embarrassment of that this time around, since I was here. You'll have your chance to learn the hard way soon enough."
The look in Kevin's worried blue eyes told Sydney that the young Pretender wasn't entirely convinced yet, but the older man was willing to let the subject drop for the time being. There was no need for him to make too much of the point unnecessarily yet, and there was enough to worry about otherwise that was much more important.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Davy squirmed out of his mother's arms and slipped from beneath the bedcovers to head for the bathroom and then downstairs for breakfast. The open door to his Grandpa's bedroom evidenced that his Grandpa was probably already up and about - which, considering how slowly Grandpa was moving these days, probably mean the older man was feeling better for a change.
The house was unusually silent for this time in the morning, and Davy found himself looking for signs of his grandfather without much success - and both Kevin and Debbie seemed to have vanished as well. He eventually found his father, fast asleep and snoring, in the recliner in the den. With that discovery, however, Davy began to breathe a little easier - most of his immediate family was all present and accounted for, mother and father at least. Grandpa, Kevin and Deb must have taken off already, and would be back later.
The kitchen was clean, although the boy could smell the freshly-made coffee from the half-full pot in the coffeemaker. Hungry and knowing where his grandfather kept the breakfast cereals, bowls and milk, Davy quickly poured himself a bowl and settled down to the table for a quiet and somewhat lonely meal.
He rinsed his bowl and put it in the dishwasher, then headed for the den and the video game that he kept here at Grandpa's. He was just walking past his dad with the set of headphones to keep from disturbing his father's sleep while he entertained himself when the cell phone on the coffee table chirped once. Davy dove for the appliance and trotted from the room with it before it had a chance to rouse his father, opened the device, punched Talk and said, "Hello?"
There was a silence on the other end of the line for a moment, and then a gentle voice asked pointedly, "Who is this?"
Davy frowned. "This is David Parker. Who is THIS?"
The voice chuckled. "Ah! Nice to meet you, Davy. I'm your Uncle Ethan."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Dr. Ira Samuels gazed down sympathetically into the young woman's fearful face. "Your father is lucky just to be alive, Miss Broots. He could just as easily bled to death while waiting to be rescued."
"I know that," Debbie said softly. "I just want to know what his condition is now..."
The kindly-faced orthopedist took gentle hold of the young woman's elbow and led her from the room and down the corridor to a small waiting area where they could talk. "Have a seat," he suggested quietly, taking one himself and waiting with his answer until Mr. Broots' daughter had followed his lead. "Your father has two broken legs - one a compound break that was the source of his blood loss - and his pelvis was crushed. At best, it will take several weeks for the bones to heal properly, and then a great deal of physical therapy, before he'll be able to walk again."
"He's still unconscious though..." she worried.
"Yes," Dr. Samuels nodded. "But this is to be expected with injuries this serious. He lost a great deal of blood, which meant that his brain was not being given as much oxygen as it may have needed for a certain period of time. We will have to see what that will mean as time goes on, but I recommend patience. He's barely out of the recovery room - even if his system hadn't had that kind of stress, he'd be groggy at best, most likely sleeping soundly for hours yet. Frankly, I'll be more concerned about him if he hasn't at least started to come around by this time tomorrow."
"Tomorrow!" Debbie blanched.
"Tomorrow," the doctor spoke softly yet firmly. "In the meanwhile, however, you can best help your father by letting him know you're there - read to him, tell him stories, touch his hand, stroke his face. There is a great deal of evidence that indicates that coma patients DO sense what is going on around them, and that keeping the brain stimulated often helps stimulate or even shorten the recovery period." He paused, thinking. "And if there are no signs of awareness by this time tomorrow, I'll order a round of tests to determine if there has been any brain damage."
Debbie looked down at her hands, no longer able to keep the tears from rolling down her cheeks. "Is he going to die?" she asked softly, unable to keep the question from slipping out.
"His condition IS serious," Dr. Samuels patted her hands comfortingly, "but provided he stays as stable as he is now, I am expecting him to recover." He patted her hand again. "Hang in there, Miss Broots - we'll see your father through this."
Debbie shook hands with the doctor again and watched him move from the little waiting room on his way elsewhere. Shaken and terribly afraid for her father, she slowly rose to her feet and made her way back to his bedside, reclaimed her seat near his head, and picked up her father's hand in hers. "Daddy, wake up," she called brokenly, then laid her head down on the mattress next to him and cried.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Uncle Ethan?" Davy repeated slowly in confusion, then remembered that his father had explained to him that he had family he'd never met. "You're my uncle?"
Ethan smiled - so this was Parker's son. "Kinda your double uncle, Davy. I'm half-brother to both your mom AND your dad." Davy's eyes widened at the idea, but his uncle pressed on. "Isn't this your dad's cell?"
"Yeah," the boy told him, "but he's fast asleep right now. I think he was out all night trying to find Mommy and Uncle Broots."
"Your mom's OK too?" Ethan asked quickly.
"She's asleep upstairs."
"Where's Sydney?"
Davy shrugged as if the man on the other end of the line could see it. "Grandpa was gone when I got up. So are Debbie and Kevin."
Ethan frowned - those names weren't as familiar to him. "Well, will you take a message for me?"
"Sure!" Davy smiled widely.
"You tell your dad that I called, and for him to call me back when he gets a chance. We saw the news reports over here, and your Aunt Em and Grandma are really worried."
Davy blinked. That was right - Daddy had told him he had an aunt and a grandma he'd never met either. "I'll tell him," he assured his uncle, then added in a small voice, "is Grandma there?"
Ethan looked across the kitchen to where Margaret sat with Sammy on her lap, watching him closely for his reactions. "Yes, she's here."
Davy's voice got even smaller. "Can I talk to her? Please?"
"Hang on."
Ethan walked across the room toward Margaret, then held out the phone to her. "Your other grandson would like to say hello to you," he informed her, then watched her mouth drop open in surprise.
Carefully she deposited Sammy on the floor. "Grandma wants to talk on the phone," she told the little one gently, then took the phone from Ethan with a hand that trembled slightly. She tucked the receiver to her ear under her flowing red and grey locks. "Hello, Davy," she said softly.
"Hi Grandma," Davy said, suddenly shy and unsure of why he'd asked to speak to her. "Uncle Ethan said you were worried - but Daddy's OK, really. He's asleep right now."
Margaret closed her eyes thankfully. "I'm really glad to hear that, Davy."
"Grandma?"
"Yes?" Margaret sniffled and pulled herself away from her tears. Jarod was OK - his son wouldn't lie to her. "What is it?"
"Do I get to see you someday - you and Uncle Ethan and Aunt... Aunt..." Davy found himself trying to picture in his mind the lady whose soft voice was on the other end of the phone.
"Emily," Margaret told him gently. "I should think so, Davy. I'd like very much to meet you, sweetheart." She smiled into the phone. "How old are you now?" she asked curiously.
"Eight and a half," the child's voice on the other end answered confidently.
"Davy? Who are you talking to?" Jarod's sleepy voice came from the den, and then the man walked through the kitchen in search of his son.
"Grandma," Davy answered. "Your cell phone rang, and you were asleep, and I thought..." His grey eyes widened, thinking he'd done something wrong.
Jarod woke up fast, then smiled down at his boy. "Grandma, huh? Do you think I could talk to her for a minute?"
"Hey Grandma, Daddy wants to talk to you," he told her quickly. "Maybe I can talk to you again sometime?"
Margaret smiled more widely. "Of course you can, sweetie. So I'll tell you goodbye for now so you can let your dad talk."
"Goodbye, Grandma," Davy said with a touch of wistfulness, then handed the cell to his father.
"Hi Mom," Jarod yawned. "I suppose you saw the news..."
"You weren't caught in that, were you?" Margaret demanded anxiously.
"Nope. I was all the way over in Dover when Syd called - but Parker WAS caught in it, below it actually, as was another friend of ours." Jarod could hear the pause on the other end as his mother began to process his interaction with people she'd known - and run away from - many years ago. "I went in to help them get out. They were caught underground."
"And Miss Parker's OK?" she forced herself to ask.
"Yes," Jarod answered with a nod, realizing his son was listening to his side of the conversation. "Mom..."
"Are you just about done there? When are you coming home?"
The Pretender closed his eyes. "Mom..."
Margaret's voice got softer, more accusing. "You promised, Jarod."
"I know I did..." He sighed. "I have a few more things to set in order here, and then I'll be home again..." He swallowed hard. This wasn't going to be easy. "But you need to know that I'll only be there long enough to setting things in California before I come back here."
"Jarod!" His mother's voice was broken, desperate.
"Mom, I have a little boy who's more important to me than... just about anything except, maybe, his mother..."
"Who just happens to be a Centre-trained bitch who chased you back and forth across the country for years," Margaret snapped. "You have a family here who loves you, who is waiting for you to come home, and you abandon them for..."
Jarod shook his head sadly. "I have family here too, Mom. We'll discuss this when I get home." He sighed. "Let me talk to Ethan, OK?"
There was a shuffling noise through the phone line as Margaret handed off the telephone to her foster son and pushed back from the table angrily. "Man, big brother! What did you tell her?" Ethan asked in surprise as he watched his foster mother storm out the arcadia doors to stand with lowered head in the middle of the back yard.
"I told her I wasn't coming back to California to stay," he admitted quietly, "that when I did come I'd be settling accounts up there and then moving back here to stay." Ethan was silent for a moment, and Jarod started to wonder if he'd pissed off his half-brother now too. "Ethan?"
"I can't say I haven't been expecting this," the younger man informed his brother quietly. "You always were in love with Parker - all it took was for you two to reconnect as allies rather than enemies for that to cinch things. Davy being your son as well as hers only added to the reasons for you to want to make a go of it with her."
Jarod looked down and ruffled his son's hair. "I want to help raise my son - especially now that I've gotten to know him - not to mention watch over Sydney. He WAS my father until Dad and I connected, you know..."
"Don't mention Sydney to Mom, Jarod," Ethan suggested. "She has never forgiven him for not helping Catherine try to rescue you."
"Too late," Jarod sighed, "although I only mentioned him in passing."
Ethan sighed too. "I'll talk to her. But I'll leave it to you to try to explain yourself to Em and Jay. They're going to be super pissed at you."
"And Mom isn't?" Jarod returned sarcastically. "Sorry, little bro - you didn't deserve that."
"That's OK. Any idea how soon you'll be back now that the Centre doesn't exist anymore?"
Jarod snorted his laughter almost silently. "Oh, the Centre still exists, Ethan - it's just that the Tower has been blown to smithereens and your sister is the Big Cheese there now. Lyle is dead, Raines is dead, old man Parker is dead - and the Triumverate gave control of it to Parker, lock, stock and barrel just before things went to Hell..."
Ethan whooped. "You're kidding!"
"Nope. And she's offered me Syd's old job when he retires - which, considering everything, will probably be fairly soon. Just think how much work I have ahead of me, turning the Psychogenics Department back around the way it should be..." Jarod yawned again.
"Did you tell Mom that?"
"She didn't exactly give me a chance."
"Hmmmm..." Ethan had to admit, Margaret didn't sound very open to anything Jarod was saying there at the end. "Well, back to the big question: any idea when you're coming back this way - for however long you'll be here?"
"A lot will depend on whether or not I come back alone," Jarod said after a moment's thought. "I'd like Davy to meet the rest of his family." He smiled down as his son began to bounce in happy excitement. "And I think it would do Mom good to make peace with Parker, if she can."
"That's a lot to ask her right now," Ethan cautioned. "Let me talk to her a bit - get her used to the idea a little more. Maybe I can offer her time with Davy as an enticement. I'm just glad that you're OK. We were all a bit worried when we saw the news and didn't hear from you."
"I had to go for Parker and Broots, Ethan - they were both trapped underground when the Tower was destroyed. I didn't have time to call..."
"They're both OK?" Ethan worried. "I didn't sense that Parker was hurt..."
"Parker's fine. Broots isn't though."
"And that's some of what you have to settle before you head back this way?"
Jarod nodded. "Yup."
"Well, you take good care of yourself, big bro - and keep in touch, OK? Hopefully I can have Mom turned around by the next time we talk."
Jarod closed the cell phone after bidding his brother goodbye. "I'm sorry, Daddy - I answered your phone so you could sleep..." Davy worried at him with big eyes.
"It's OK, Davy," he said, ruffling the boy's hair again. "I appreciate the thoughtfulness."
"Are we going to go see Grandma soon?"
Jarod ruffled the boy's hair yet again. "We'll see, Davy. We'll see."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The elevator doors slipped silently aside as Sydney and Kevin waited, then Sydney's face lit up in a grin. "Sam!"
The burly ex-sweeper was nearly too large a man to fit comfortably in the wheelchair, and the orderly doing the pushing was a young man only half his size. The dark eyes lit at the sight of his friends. "Hey there, Doc. What are you two doing here?"
"Broots is here," Sydney told the family friend somberly. "We brought Debbie so she could be with him." He smiled again. "But what are you up to?"
Sam's face split with a grin. "I'm getting sprung this morning. I get a week of sitting around and doing nothing while the cuts in back heal." He saw Sydney take in the bathrobe and surgical green pullover. "My own clothes were demolished in the explosion - glass and blood all over everything. I had to sign my life away to have something decent to wear home." Then he sobered. "Sydney... I left Miss Parker in her office in the Tower..."
The older man's hand landed comfortingly on the ex-sweeper's shoulder. "She's OK, Sam. She was down in the morgue, checking out that Raines was really dead..."
"What about Broots - you said he was here?" Sam could see from Sydney's and Kevin's face that the news on that front wasn't as happy. "How bad?" he asked quietly.
"Bad enough," Sydney replied slowly. "Jarod said that he had at least one broken leg and lost a lot of blood. Debbie was going to talk to the doctor while Kevin and I got some coffee." He turned to Kevin and handed him the covered Styrofoam cup. "Why don't you take this up to Deb while I visit with Sam a bit."
Kevin took the cup from the outstretched hand. "I'm glad to see you, Sam," he said with a small smile, then waited while the orderly pushed Sam's wheelchair from the elevator so that he could take its place, pushing the button for the post-operative medical floor. "See you in a bit, Sydney?"
The psychiatrist nodded at the young man and then returned his attention to Sam as the elevator door slid closed again. The ex-sweeper leveled an assessing look on the psychiatrist in his turn. "And what are YOU doing up and around and active again? I'm surprised Jarod let you..."
Sydney shrugged very carefully. "Jarod really had no choice, and neither did I. Parker didn't make it home until after three in the morning, and Jarod didn't come in until much later than that. Neither of them was in any state to drive Debbie to Dover, you were here, Kevin CAN'T drive, Deb shouldn't drive while upset - so that left me." He looked down at Sam. "And how are you getting home?"
Sam would have shrugged except that it pulled any number of tiny stitches, so instead he grimaced and shook his head. "Cab, I suppose..."
"Unless you want to wait around until we get ready to leave..." Sydney suggested. He looked up at the orderly. "Could we just call you back when we're ready to leave, and you can take him to my car?"
The orderly nodded. "How about I park you in the main lobby," he told Sam, "and your friend here can talk to the volunteer desk when it comes time to pack you into a car?"
"Sounds good to me," Sam said contentedly, then looked forward as the wheelchair began moving again with Sydney walking slowly at his side. "I wasn't looking forward to the cab fare back to Blue Cove anyway..."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Kevin wasn't sure what to do. He stood just inside Broots' hospital room, watching as Debbie softly wept into her father's hand. Finally the young woman lifted her head, wiped her tears away, and called, "Daddy, I'm here," to him, and her action broke him out of his uncomfortable freeze.
He moved up behind her and put a hand on her shoulder, letting her know he was there, and then extended the other hand in front of her, offering her the cup of coffee.
"Thanks," she looked up at him with eyes red and puffy, then took the coffee and set it on the little end table beyond her for the time being.
"Are you OK?" he asked in concern, not moving his hand from her shoulder.
She swallowed hard, then nodded. "The doctor said that he won't start to worry about him still being unconscious until tomorrow. He's just out of surgery, and would be really groggy anyway..." She glanced back behind her friend, and then back up in his face again. "Where's Grandpa?"
"He's downstairs with Sam right now," Kevin told her. "Sam was being released."
Debbie closed her eyes for a long moment. "I'm glad Sam's OK," she commented, then looked down into her father's sleeping face again. "I just want my Dad to wake up and be OK too." A tear trickled down her cheek. "Why did it have to be HIM that got hurt so bad?"
Kevin had no answer for her, and it bothered him greatly that such an important question like that didn't have an easy answer. "Do you want me to go get Sydney for you?" he asked instead, knowing that the older man would probably have a much better handle on such things.
"No, don't go yet," Deb replied, reaching up for his hand as it still lay on her shoulder before he could pull it away. "I'm really glad you're here."
He felt her twining her fingers with his. "I'm sorry I don't have an answer for your question, Deb," he murmured apologetically.
Her fingers tightened with his. "It's OK, Kev - that's one of those questions that really doesn't have a good answer." She drew in a shaky breath. "Life is just unfair sometimes. Daddy used to tell me that all the time, and even Grandpa said it a few times."
"I'm not used to having questions asked that don't eventually have answers," Kevin mused as much to himself as to her. "I'm not even used to having to question the fairness of anything." He put his other hand on her other shoulder. "Here I am, supposedly one of the smarter people in the world, and I want to help you and feel so... helpless..."
Debbie rubbed her cheek against his hand in hers. "But you ARE helping, Kevin. You're here - and that's a lot." She felt his hand move from her shoulder and stroke her hair very tentatively. "That's all Grandpa Sydney could do either - and I know that even though he's down with Sam, he's here with me too."
Kevin shook his head, still confused, but moved a little closer so that Deb didn't have to stretch to hold his hand and he didn't have to stretch to stroke her hair.
Deb felt him move in closer behind her, and she leaned her head back a little against his stomach as she reached for her father's hand once more. "Wake up, Daddy," she called softly. "Kevin's here too now. C'mon - time to wake up."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Jarod pushed open the door to the guest bedroom - Kevin's room - and smiled. Davy was contentedly playing video games and movies downstairs in the den, and the bed up here did look inviting.
He shed his shoes not far from where Miss Parker had shed hers, then moved around the end of the bed to the other side so that he could slip beneath the covers behind her and pull her into his arms. He yawned again once as he felt her snuggle back against him and moan as if the movement was uncomfortable, then settle back to sleep.
Comfortable and horizontal at last, Jarod took two deep breaths and was once more fast asleep.
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