i) Thanks to ICD, mfkngst, leochick, and Grace for leaving a review - greatly appreciated. Now, would I kill Jarod? Me? ; )
ii) For all of March and most of April I had neither the time nor the inclination to write (thanks must go to my employer) and things have only improved slightly, so I can't promise prompt updates... Sorry. Anyway, on with the show...
The journey had been unbearable. What had been no more than seven or eight minutes, at the most ten, had felt like an hour. Every red light fell unfairly, he thought, against him, though in all probability it was likely that the black cab had sailed through just as many green ones. The driver, no doubt sensing it wise, had forgone the usual patter metered out to passengers, especially tourists. That had left Sydney partitioned off in the rear, with nothing to do except alternate his attention between his wrist watch and the red figures of the cab's meter which ticked over at regular intervals. And to imagine the worst.
He had stumbled across the aftermath of the collision, some fifteen to twenty minutes after the event and had known instantly that Jarod and Parker had been involved. Casual enquiries with both those witnesses who were still present, and the police themselves, had seemed to confirm this. By insinuating to the police that his 'daughter' may have been involved he had uncovered the basics of what had occurred and, crucially, the location of both Jarod and Miss Parker. Once inside the hospital he used the same line, allowing him to be taken straight to his young colleague.
A nurse, her badge identifying her as Staff Nurse White, had given a sympathetic smile as she informed him that Parker was alone in the relative's room, having refused any offers of company. Sydney had nodded understandingly, pasting fatherly concern onto his features with ease as he'd let the nurse, a middle aged, plump woman in her mid forties, guide him towards Parker.
Now alone outside the room, having thanked the nurse profusely until she'd taken the hint to leave, he took a deep breath and arranged his thoughts. He cautiously entered the homely looking room, slowly taking in its contents. A small rectangular table took precedence in the centre of the room, a sofa placed at each of its longer sides. A smaller table, this one square, was tucked into the corner of the room against the far wall, a plant of some description perched upon it. Parker stood next to the smaller table, gazing out of the room's only window and made no reaction to his entrance. He shut the door quietly behind him and edged slowly towards her, stopping a metre or so away from her as she finally spoke.
"He's in surgery."
Her voice was even, emotionless. She kept her back to him, shoulders slumped, one hand raised playing nervously at her mouth, the other arm wrapped across her stomach. He felt a stab of sadness as his thoughts returned to Jarod, that he could do nothing to help the younger man at this moment only exacerbated those feelings. He wallowed in that thought for a moment or two before shaking it off.
He turned his gaze from the back of Parker's head to the view she was staring at. The window led out onto the tiny grounds of the hospital and, despite the sunny nature of the weather, he found it a rather depressing sight. Looking into the glass he could see the tiny room reflected in all its splendour, the harsh clinical lights making it possible, and he could see the sad figure of Miss Parker. "What happened?" he asked, meeting her eyes in the reflection. Her taut features bounced back at him and she looked paler than he could ever remember.
"Some asshole thought red meant go," she replied, returning his gaze. The hand that had been vertical rejoined its partner, laying across her stomach almost as if she was hugging herself.
Though her voice remained even, this time he could just about hear the undertide of emotions bubbling within her, but those steely blue eyes demanded he probe no deeper. He kicked himself for even thinking, when he had first encountered the scene of the accident, that it was she who had hurt Jarod - she was clearly affected by what had occurred. He ignored the warning glare, "Miss Parker," he began as he closed the gap between them and placed a hand on her shoulder, "are you okay?"
She shrugged off his hand immediately, straightening her back and shoulders as she did so, still meeting his gaze in the window. "I wasn't hurt," she replied icily, "Unlike boy genius I know how to cross a road safely." She folded her arms under her chest, completing the stance.
He never ceased to wonder at how quickly the coldness settled on her, the invisible barrier raising automatically; yet her eyes gave her away, a flash of pain had dimmed those brilliant blue orbs for the briefest of moments.
He'd witnessed something similar not so long ago when he'd attempted to talk to her about her father, about the events on the island. She'd been adamant then too but he'd always made it clear to her that she could speak to him privately if she wished - an offer she had not taken up. "I don't mean physically," he said gently.
She snorted lightly and shook her head, "I knew I should have brought Sam."
He smiled wearily, "And risk Lyle, and The Centre, knowing where you were going?" Lyle had taken to watching them all closely, especially his sister. There had been a drought in sightings of the elusive pretender and his protege had not been in contact for some time. Broots' hit on Jarod had come through late afternoon, by the nightfall they were on a plane over the Atlantic - there'd been no time to acquire Sam without raising suspicion.
She turned to face him, that cool exterior still firmly in place. "I'm fine," she muttered, finally answering his questions but her tone warning him that that particular line of conversation was over.
Sydney watched silently as she brushed by him to take a seat on one of the plush sofas and away from his scrutiny. He continued to observe her reflection in the window. Despite her facade he still felt she was perturbed. From what little he'd gathered it seemed she had witnessed the whole thing and had travelled with Jarod in the ambulance to the hospital. Facing the prospect of losing someone else in her life must have shook her deeply. An idea began to form in his head. He briefly considered letting the subject matter drop but he figured there might never be such an opportune time to speak to her candidly - if she would speak to him at all.
"And The Centre?", he asked, his back still to her, and trying a different approach. For someone who was determined to return Jarod to The Centre, and had spent five years trying to achieve this goal, she was remarkably subdued. Even if, Heaven forbid, Jarod did not make it through she would still have fulfilled her objective. She should have been ecstatic.
There was a long silence before she replied, as if she hadn't even considered The Centre. "What about them?" she asked quietly, staring ahead at the wall.
He turned to face Parker, "Have you updated them on the situation?" He asked the question as neutrally as he could.
There was another stretch of slience. "No," she whispered softly.
Sydney couldn't stop a small smile from gracing his lips, though he doubted she noticed the action as she seemed intent on staring anywhere else but at him. A small kernel of hope sprung at her reply and pieces of the puzzle, pieces that were now well worn and familiar through his constant appraisal of them, seemed like they may actually fall into place.
"He won't be going anywhere for a while," she added, and he let the smile fade, wondering if she had seen him after all.
She sounded so fragile, her voice barely above a whisper, and she seemed so small, the sofa almost swamped her. Sydney walked silently to the sofa opposite to her and sat down, forcing her to look into his eyes. "The sooner Jarod is back at The Centre, the sooner you can have your freedom Miss Parker," he ventured carefully, trying to fit a particularly difficult piece of the puzzle into position.
She stared wordlessly at him again, as if she was struggling with every word she said and each one had to be chosen so very carefully. "Sounds like you can't wait to have your little lab rat back," she began, "And I always thought you were helping him to stay free."
There was no venom in her voice but he caught the flash in her eyes, the uncertainty as she spoke. "I want Jarod back at The Centre as much as you do Miss Parker," he urged softly. He had said something similar to her once before when she had questioned his motives; at that time, as now, he believed it was a truthful statement. He'd observed her closely over the years and though she disguised it well, Sydney felt she struggled with her assignment, as much as he himself did, and also, to a greater extent, with her feelings for Jarod.
"Do you?" she asked hesitantly, after another long pause.
"Yes," he answered with a smile. He would have to take the first step, else they could go on all night and never actually get to the point, endlessly beating around the bush, both unwilling to confess and sticking steadfastedly to their roles. He sat forward slightly, still keeping her gaze, "Miss Parker, I don't want to be the one responsible for taking Jarod back to The Centre... and I strongly suspect you don't want to be either." He subconsciously held his breath as she scrutinised him closely. The room fell silent once more and with each passing second he began to doubt himself. Her features were blank yet her eyes once more revealed a deeper battle.
"Syd..." she began but her words tailed off, broken down by emotion as she failed to keep such things in check, but he suspected she had been on the cusp of denying his observations. Her eyes dropped to the floor, to the bland carpet underneath the table that no doubt held the tears of many a distraught relative condemned to receive devastating news about their loved ones in a room that was painfully inadequate.
"Miss Parker?" he prompted, as silence began to fill the room.
"I should take you both back," she whispered weakly, still staring at the carpet. It was an empty threat, a knee jerk reaction to the vague feelings of loyalty to The Centre, and to her father, that clung on.
"You should do what you feel is best," Sydney offered sincerely, noting that she had not denied anything.
She drew her eyes back towards him and he watched her trying in vain to compose herself, to become the Ice Queen, only there was something else present - that flash of turmoil. "I..." she began hesitantly, and just for a moment it seemed as though she was on the verge of speaking openly, only to be interrupted by a soft knock on the door, followed swiftly by the reappearance of Nurse White.
ii) For all of March and most of April I had neither the time nor the inclination to write (thanks must go to my employer) and things have only improved slightly, so I can't promise prompt updates... Sorry. Anyway, on with the show...
The journey had been unbearable. What had been no more than seven or eight minutes, at the most ten, had felt like an hour. Every red light fell unfairly, he thought, against him, though in all probability it was likely that the black cab had sailed through just as many green ones. The driver, no doubt sensing it wise, had forgone the usual patter metered out to passengers, especially tourists. That had left Sydney partitioned off in the rear, with nothing to do except alternate his attention between his wrist watch and the red figures of the cab's meter which ticked over at regular intervals. And to imagine the worst.
He had stumbled across the aftermath of the collision, some fifteen to twenty minutes after the event and had known instantly that Jarod and Parker had been involved. Casual enquiries with both those witnesses who were still present, and the police themselves, had seemed to confirm this. By insinuating to the police that his 'daughter' may have been involved he had uncovered the basics of what had occurred and, crucially, the location of both Jarod and Miss Parker. Once inside the hospital he used the same line, allowing him to be taken straight to his young colleague.
A nurse, her badge identifying her as Staff Nurse White, had given a sympathetic smile as she informed him that Parker was alone in the relative's room, having refused any offers of company. Sydney had nodded understandingly, pasting fatherly concern onto his features with ease as he'd let the nurse, a middle aged, plump woman in her mid forties, guide him towards Parker.
Now alone outside the room, having thanked the nurse profusely until she'd taken the hint to leave, he took a deep breath and arranged his thoughts. He cautiously entered the homely looking room, slowly taking in its contents. A small rectangular table took precedence in the centre of the room, a sofa placed at each of its longer sides. A smaller table, this one square, was tucked into the corner of the room against the far wall, a plant of some description perched upon it. Parker stood next to the smaller table, gazing out of the room's only window and made no reaction to his entrance. He shut the door quietly behind him and edged slowly towards her, stopping a metre or so away from her as she finally spoke.
"He's in surgery."
Her voice was even, emotionless. She kept her back to him, shoulders slumped, one hand raised playing nervously at her mouth, the other arm wrapped across her stomach. He felt a stab of sadness as his thoughts returned to Jarod, that he could do nothing to help the younger man at this moment only exacerbated those feelings. He wallowed in that thought for a moment or two before shaking it off.
He turned his gaze from the back of Parker's head to the view she was staring at. The window led out onto the tiny grounds of the hospital and, despite the sunny nature of the weather, he found it a rather depressing sight. Looking into the glass he could see the tiny room reflected in all its splendour, the harsh clinical lights making it possible, and he could see the sad figure of Miss Parker. "What happened?" he asked, meeting her eyes in the reflection. Her taut features bounced back at him and she looked paler than he could ever remember.
"Some asshole thought red meant go," she replied, returning his gaze. The hand that had been vertical rejoined its partner, laying across her stomach almost as if she was hugging herself.
Though her voice remained even, this time he could just about hear the undertide of emotions bubbling within her, but those steely blue eyes demanded he probe no deeper. He kicked himself for even thinking, when he had first encountered the scene of the accident, that it was she who had hurt Jarod - she was clearly affected by what had occurred. He ignored the warning glare, "Miss Parker," he began as he closed the gap between them and placed a hand on her shoulder, "are you okay?"
She shrugged off his hand immediately, straightening her back and shoulders as she did so, still meeting his gaze in the window. "I wasn't hurt," she replied icily, "Unlike boy genius I know how to cross a road safely." She folded her arms under her chest, completing the stance.
He never ceased to wonder at how quickly the coldness settled on her, the invisible barrier raising automatically; yet her eyes gave her away, a flash of pain had dimmed those brilliant blue orbs for the briefest of moments.
He'd witnessed something similar not so long ago when he'd attempted to talk to her about her father, about the events on the island. She'd been adamant then too but he'd always made it clear to her that she could speak to him privately if she wished - an offer she had not taken up. "I don't mean physically," he said gently.
She snorted lightly and shook her head, "I knew I should have brought Sam."
He smiled wearily, "And risk Lyle, and The Centre, knowing where you were going?" Lyle had taken to watching them all closely, especially his sister. There had been a drought in sightings of the elusive pretender and his protege had not been in contact for some time. Broots' hit on Jarod had come through late afternoon, by the nightfall they were on a plane over the Atlantic - there'd been no time to acquire Sam without raising suspicion.
She turned to face him, that cool exterior still firmly in place. "I'm fine," she muttered, finally answering his questions but her tone warning him that that particular line of conversation was over.
Sydney watched silently as she brushed by him to take a seat on one of the plush sofas and away from his scrutiny. He continued to observe her reflection in the window. Despite her facade he still felt she was perturbed. From what little he'd gathered it seemed she had witnessed the whole thing and had travelled with Jarod in the ambulance to the hospital. Facing the prospect of losing someone else in her life must have shook her deeply. An idea began to form in his head. He briefly considered letting the subject matter drop but he figured there might never be such an opportune time to speak to her candidly - if she would speak to him at all.
"And The Centre?", he asked, his back still to her, and trying a different approach. For someone who was determined to return Jarod to The Centre, and had spent five years trying to achieve this goal, she was remarkably subdued. Even if, Heaven forbid, Jarod did not make it through she would still have fulfilled her objective. She should have been ecstatic.
There was a long silence before she replied, as if she hadn't even considered The Centre. "What about them?" she asked quietly, staring ahead at the wall.
He turned to face Parker, "Have you updated them on the situation?" He asked the question as neutrally as he could.
There was another stretch of slience. "No," she whispered softly.
Sydney couldn't stop a small smile from gracing his lips, though he doubted she noticed the action as she seemed intent on staring anywhere else but at him. A small kernel of hope sprung at her reply and pieces of the puzzle, pieces that were now well worn and familiar through his constant appraisal of them, seemed like they may actually fall into place.
"He won't be going anywhere for a while," she added, and he let the smile fade, wondering if she had seen him after all.
She sounded so fragile, her voice barely above a whisper, and she seemed so small, the sofa almost swamped her. Sydney walked silently to the sofa opposite to her and sat down, forcing her to look into his eyes. "The sooner Jarod is back at The Centre, the sooner you can have your freedom Miss Parker," he ventured carefully, trying to fit a particularly difficult piece of the puzzle into position.
She stared wordlessly at him again, as if she was struggling with every word she said and each one had to be chosen so very carefully. "Sounds like you can't wait to have your little lab rat back," she began, "And I always thought you were helping him to stay free."
There was no venom in her voice but he caught the flash in her eyes, the uncertainty as she spoke. "I want Jarod back at The Centre as much as you do Miss Parker," he urged softly. He had said something similar to her once before when she had questioned his motives; at that time, as now, he believed it was a truthful statement. He'd observed her closely over the years and though she disguised it well, Sydney felt she struggled with her assignment, as much as he himself did, and also, to a greater extent, with her feelings for Jarod.
"Do you?" she asked hesitantly, after another long pause.
"Yes," he answered with a smile. He would have to take the first step, else they could go on all night and never actually get to the point, endlessly beating around the bush, both unwilling to confess and sticking steadfastedly to their roles. He sat forward slightly, still keeping her gaze, "Miss Parker, I don't want to be the one responsible for taking Jarod back to The Centre... and I strongly suspect you don't want to be either." He subconsciously held his breath as she scrutinised him closely. The room fell silent once more and with each passing second he began to doubt himself. Her features were blank yet her eyes once more revealed a deeper battle.
"Syd..." she began but her words tailed off, broken down by emotion as she failed to keep such things in check, but he suspected she had been on the cusp of denying his observations. Her eyes dropped to the floor, to the bland carpet underneath the table that no doubt held the tears of many a distraught relative condemned to receive devastating news about their loved ones in a room that was painfully inadequate.
"Miss Parker?" he prompted, as silence began to fill the room.
"I should take you both back," she whispered weakly, still staring at the carpet. It was an empty threat, a knee jerk reaction to the vague feelings of loyalty to The Centre, and to her father, that clung on.
"You should do what you feel is best," Sydney offered sincerely, noting that she had not denied anything.
She drew her eyes back towards him and he watched her trying in vain to compose herself, to become the Ice Queen, only there was something else present - that flash of turmoil. "I..." she began hesitantly, and just for a moment it seemed as though she was on the verge of speaking openly, only to be interrupted by a soft knock on the door, followed swiftly by the reappearance of Nurse White.