i) Massive thanks to mfkngst, Ruby Trinity, piscesmarch, leochick, Insert Witty Name Here, QueenTrione, and ICD for reviewing the last chapter, I really do appreciate your comments.
Miss Parker, or Mrs Dawson as she was known to the nurses, stared at Jarod's inert body. He was as deathly still as he had been at the roadside. He seemed so lifeless yet his warm hand, sandwiched between her own, belied this. The steady rise and fall of his chest, along with the gentle hum of machinery attached to him, was further proof - and she soaked it all up. The thoughts that had plagued her for hours, thoughts in which she'd feared she'd been left alone, abated. She studied his face intently, willing him to consciousness, noting a cluster of small cuts and scrapes which, along with his leg encased in plaster, were the only visible signs of the days events.
She held on to his hand, so large compared to her own, the skin not rough yet not quite smooth either. She wondered about the skin on his face, whether the texture would be the same but she couldn't find the courage to run her hand down one cheek and find out.
The gesture wouldn't have seemed untoward by the hospital staff, they were fully taken in by her duplicity though in all honesty they had good reason - she had not given them any reason to think she did not care deeply about the man she had passed off as her husband, or that she was anything other than greatly distressed by what had happened. Nurse White, whose timing it seemed was never anything other than impeccable, had again interloped on a tender moment between Parker and Sydney, and the 'truth' was set in stone.
Parker wasn't sure how long she had stood there, in that poky little box of a room, safely wrapped in Sydney's arms; like earlier in the day time lost all meaning though on this occasion it seemed to disappear all too quickly. When her tears had eventually subsided she'd let Sydney gently manoeuvre her over to one of the sofas, where he had produced a handkerchief and had lovingly dried her tears. She'd watched him in fascination as the boundaries between them, the walls she had built, fell down and they both knew there was no going back. Tears dried, he'd taken one of her hands in his, a small smile on his lips, and asked her what she wanted to do.
It may have been at this point that she'd made her decision, or it may have been earlier; either way it was at this juncture that she'd actually voiced such thoughts out loud. Sydney, smiling wider, had squeezed her hand at her reply, his pleasure obvious and had launched into a possible outcome for her. As he had said earlier, only Broots knew where either of them where and his complicity could be relied upon. The simplicity of the plan astounded her: she just wouldn't return with Sydney. He would contact Broots and set about constructing a completely different version of events, in an entirely different location. Sydney would spin some line about her making further enquiries then feign ignorance when it became apparent she wasn't coming back. She had questioned the validity of such a plan, and the danger to both him and Broots, but Sydney had simply squeezed her hand once more, assuring her everything would be okay. And she somehow felt it would be, Sydney knew how to survive The Centre.
In truth she was more concerned about her side of the plan; they still did not know at that point how badly injured Jarod was, and more worryingly she did not know if Jarod's offer still stood. The way he had smiled at her, the way he had looked at her, she wanted to believe it did but a part of her fretted that he would shrug her off and she'd have left everything else in her life behind for nothing. Sydney, still reading her like a book, had not missed this and had reassured her as best he could, his gentle persuasion (and she wasn't sure how he could be so certain when she herself wasn't) finally won through.
Plan agreed, she'd tentatively asked one last favour of her colleague: to wait with her until they heard more about Jarod. If the news had been the worst possible she wasn't sure how she would get through alone. Sydney had quickly agreed, no doubt just as anxious to hear about the pretender as she was, and, feeling as though there were no more taboos with him, she'd leant across to kiss him on the cheek, an action which made him smile all the more. She'd leant into him, seeking his comfort once more. He hadn't hesitated to wrap his arms around her again and that was how Nurse White, surgeon in tow, had found them some time later.
Jarod, out of surgery, had been moved to a side room. They were quietly optimistic, the tall blond surgeon had announced, surgery had gone well, and Jarod seemed out of danger. After a brief chat with the surgeon, mostly conducted by Sydney as Parker had sat back relieved, thoughts elsewhere and only half listening to the medic list Jarod's injuries, they were left once more with Nurse White who had offered to take them to see Jarod - an offer they both swiftly accepted. That was where her acquaintance with the nurse ended, now on another ward there was no need for the older woman to remain in contact with Parker, and for some reason she missed the woman. She was replaced by an impossibly young woman, whose efficiency only just convinced Parker that she was indeed old enough to be qualified.
Sydney had stayed for a while, had remained at Jarod's side whilst she had used the washroom to tidy up her appearance, but had eventually, almost reluctantly, left. It had felt strange saying goodbye to the older man just as they were beginning to develop a closer friendship and she wished she hadn't waited so long to do just that. There had been a final hug and he had made her promise to let him know, albeit as discretely as possible, how she and Jarod were doing. Once more she'd marvelled at his confidence because she still didn't quite believe it herself.
Then there'd been only her and Jarod; all she could do was wait for him to come round and to wonder, now that the moment of truth was imminent, if she still had any chance with him. After all it had been a long hard winter since she'd last spoken to him - had she left it too late. She thought again about running her hand down his cheek and started to reach over, only to stop midway, retracting her hand and placing it in her lap. Her other hand remianed with his, a gesture she felt was safer, one she could pass off as an offer of friendship. The absurdity of the situation didn't escape her; she'd admitted to herself how she felt about him, something she'd denied herself, and Jarod, for too long, yet she didn't want to let herself fall completely in case she'd been mistaken. In case the truth was that she'd pushed him away one too many times. In case he'd moved on.
It was now dark outside, the Spring day had come abruptly to an end, seemingly before its time. But there was nowhere else she'd rather be, certainly not back in Blue Cove. She didn't realise at first that his hand had moved; she wasn't sure if she'd imagined it and her eyes flickered to his face, expecting to see him wide awake. His eyes remained shut but this time she definitely felt his fingers brush against hers. "Jarod?" she spoke softly, a smile riding her lips and her stomach swirling in anticipation of his reaction.
She watched him struggle to open his eyes, as his fingers curled around hers with all the strength he could find. Eyelashes fluttered against his skin as he strove to complete his task, only to be met with the violent glare of the hospital lights which made him seek to close them again. She could only smile, despite the anticipation, as she watched him swallow a few times. His eyes, now open once more and adjusted to the brightness, finally focussed on her, his brow furrowed as if he was fighting his way through the fog of drugs to comprehend the situation. His hand still remained in hers, something that gave her hope.
"Parker?" There was disbelief in his voice, as if, despite what his eyes and ears were telling him, he couldn't quite believe she was there.
She could only nod her head as her thumb began to unconsciously rub the back of his hand. She had to swallow a few times, to push the rising fear in her stomach down, before she could speak. "How are you feeling?" The words sounded woefully inadequate the moment they left her mouth.
He didn't answer immediately, just stared at her almost dumbfounded. His eyes flickered around her, orientating himself with a room that was obviously not associated with The Centre, then strayed back to her eyes. She figured there must be a multitude of questions on the tip of his tongue; mostly concerning The Centre and her presence, but they never appeared. Maybe the fact she was sat at his side, not holding a gun, wearing the same clothes he had last seen her in swayed him. He stared at her for another beat, a hint of uncertainty still present, before answering. "Like I was run over by one of those double decker buses."
Her smile dropped slightly and her thumb ceased its movements, perturbed once more by the very thought that it could have been a lot worse. "It was a car," she uttered painfully, the memory of the event no less viscious or powerful as it ran through her thoughts again - even with the passage of time and an apparently fortunate outcome. Memories she thought would now be exorcised. Her features must have given her away as Jarod now stared at her intently, his own misgivings seemingly forgotten and cautiousness thrown to the wind.
"Are you okay?" he asked, his thumb now rubbing against her hand.
She managed another quick nod of her head in reply as a rogue tear slipped down one cheek. She wasn't sure if it was evoked by her memories of the day or by his obvious concern. He should have been on edge, concerned for his own welfare. She clammed up. Now that the moment of truth had arrived she wanted more time. "I should get the nurse...," she said, rising from her seat, brushing the tear away with her free hand. Her other hand remained locked with his and he held onto her, gently tugging her back to her seat. She sat back down on the hard, uncomfortable chair and avoided his eyes. This was harder for her than it had been telling Sydney, than it had been to admit to herself. This time there was a chance that she could end up hurt.
"Parker," he chided gently.
She stared at their joined hands for a moment. If she were to objectively look at her relationship with Jarod she would have seen all she needed to know; she would have known no fear, she would have held no doubts. She drew her gaze up to his warm brown eyes, willing herself to come clean. Something she had once heard rang in her ears: 'You're either dipping your toe, or you're drowning'. She'd sat on the edge of the pool for too long, it was time to see if she could swim. "I thought I'd lost you."
"You've never lost me," he replied easily, his eyes staring into hers with such fervency that she was taken slightly aback. Some of her doubts began to ease, he'd swam right over to her.
"Jarod," she began hesitantly, "I..." she paused, mesmerised by his gentle strokes on her hand and falling ever deeper into his gaze. She didn't manage to finish the sentence.
He raised one eyebrow intrigued as he struggled to sit himself upright, wincing as he did so, injuries reminding him of his fight with the car. He only managed to rise a few inches up his bed, partly due to his reluctance to relinquish his hold on either Parker's hand or her gaze. His head now a little further up the pillow, and now vaguely aware of the garish colour of the hospital gown he was clad in, he waited to see if she would continue. "Parker," he prompted after a moment or two.
"Why did you smile at me?" she blurted out, finally vanquishing what little fear that remained. "Before the car... you just smiled at me." She felt she needed to know what exactly had lain behind that action. It had been that smile that had changed everything and she wanted to know that she hadn't misread the situation, that she hadn't put all of her money on one roll of the dice. That he was actually saying what she thought he was saying.
"Because the last person, the very last vision, I was going to lay my eyes on was you... And I had the opportunity to tell you one last time how I feel."
She swallowed hard, keeping tears of joy at bay with a struggle. "That turning point," she whispered quietly, a hesitant smile appearing at the corners of her mouth, "Is your offer still open?"
He smiled, a brilliantly wide and beautiful smile, as he had done earlier in the day. A smile that had flipped her world upside down and was now doing something similar to her stomach. "Always," he replied softly.
She gave in to her earlier impulse and ran her hand lightly down his cheek, eyes still locked on his. There was no need for any further words, the deal silently agreed by eye contact alone; all that remained was to seal it. She leant towards him slowly, hand now cupping his cheek, and closed the gap between them. She brushed her mouth against his, her stomach fluttering wildly, lips tingling. A long, sweet, much yearned for kiss ensued, the silence only punctuated by the machine monitoring Jarod's heartbeat, the beeps increasing in pace. Had her own heart been subject to such scrutiny the results would have been the same.
Miss Parker, or Mrs Dawson as she was known to the nurses, stared at Jarod's inert body. He was as deathly still as he had been at the roadside. He seemed so lifeless yet his warm hand, sandwiched between her own, belied this. The steady rise and fall of his chest, along with the gentle hum of machinery attached to him, was further proof - and she soaked it all up. The thoughts that had plagued her for hours, thoughts in which she'd feared she'd been left alone, abated. She studied his face intently, willing him to consciousness, noting a cluster of small cuts and scrapes which, along with his leg encased in plaster, were the only visible signs of the days events.
She held on to his hand, so large compared to her own, the skin not rough yet not quite smooth either. She wondered about the skin on his face, whether the texture would be the same but she couldn't find the courage to run her hand down one cheek and find out.
The gesture wouldn't have seemed untoward by the hospital staff, they were fully taken in by her duplicity though in all honesty they had good reason - she had not given them any reason to think she did not care deeply about the man she had passed off as her husband, or that she was anything other than greatly distressed by what had happened. Nurse White, whose timing it seemed was never anything other than impeccable, had again interloped on a tender moment between Parker and Sydney, and the 'truth' was set in stone.
Parker wasn't sure how long she had stood there, in that poky little box of a room, safely wrapped in Sydney's arms; like earlier in the day time lost all meaning though on this occasion it seemed to disappear all too quickly. When her tears had eventually subsided she'd let Sydney gently manoeuvre her over to one of the sofas, where he had produced a handkerchief and had lovingly dried her tears. She'd watched him in fascination as the boundaries between them, the walls she had built, fell down and they both knew there was no going back. Tears dried, he'd taken one of her hands in his, a small smile on his lips, and asked her what she wanted to do.
It may have been at this point that she'd made her decision, or it may have been earlier; either way it was at this juncture that she'd actually voiced such thoughts out loud. Sydney, smiling wider, had squeezed her hand at her reply, his pleasure obvious and had launched into a possible outcome for her. As he had said earlier, only Broots knew where either of them where and his complicity could be relied upon. The simplicity of the plan astounded her: she just wouldn't return with Sydney. He would contact Broots and set about constructing a completely different version of events, in an entirely different location. Sydney would spin some line about her making further enquiries then feign ignorance when it became apparent she wasn't coming back. She had questioned the validity of such a plan, and the danger to both him and Broots, but Sydney had simply squeezed her hand once more, assuring her everything would be okay. And she somehow felt it would be, Sydney knew how to survive The Centre.
In truth she was more concerned about her side of the plan; they still did not know at that point how badly injured Jarod was, and more worryingly she did not know if Jarod's offer still stood. The way he had smiled at her, the way he had looked at her, she wanted to believe it did but a part of her fretted that he would shrug her off and she'd have left everything else in her life behind for nothing. Sydney, still reading her like a book, had not missed this and had reassured her as best he could, his gentle persuasion (and she wasn't sure how he could be so certain when she herself wasn't) finally won through.
Plan agreed, she'd tentatively asked one last favour of her colleague: to wait with her until they heard more about Jarod. If the news had been the worst possible she wasn't sure how she would get through alone. Sydney had quickly agreed, no doubt just as anxious to hear about the pretender as she was, and, feeling as though there were no more taboos with him, she'd leant across to kiss him on the cheek, an action which made him smile all the more. She'd leant into him, seeking his comfort once more. He hadn't hesitated to wrap his arms around her again and that was how Nurse White, surgeon in tow, had found them some time later.
Jarod, out of surgery, had been moved to a side room. They were quietly optimistic, the tall blond surgeon had announced, surgery had gone well, and Jarod seemed out of danger. After a brief chat with the surgeon, mostly conducted by Sydney as Parker had sat back relieved, thoughts elsewhere and only half listening to the medic list Jarod's injuries, they were left once more with Nurse White who had offered to take them to see Jarod - an offer they both swiftly accepted. That was where her acquaintance with the nurse ended, now on another ward there was no need for the older woman to remain in contact with Parker, and for some reason she missed the woman. She was replaced by an impossibly young woman, whose efficiency only just convinced Parker that she was indeed old enough to be qualified.
Sydney had stayed for a while, had remained at Jarod's side whilst she had used the washroom to tidy up her appearance, but had eventually, almost reluctantly, left. It had felt strange saying goodbye to the older man just as they were beginning to develop a closer friendship and she wished she hadn't waited so long to do just that. There had been a final hug and he had made her promise to let him know, albeit as discretely as possible, how she and Jarod were doing. Once more she'd marvelled at his confidence because she still didn't quite believe it herself.
Then there'd been only her and Jarod; all she could do was wait for him to come round and to wonder, now that the moment of truth was imminent, if she still had any chance with him. After all it had been a long hard winter since she'd last spoken to him - had she left it too late. She thought again about running her hand down his cheek and started to reach over, only to stop midway, retracting her hand and placing it in her lap. Her other hand remianed with his, a gesture she felt was safer, one she could pass off as an offer of friendship. The absurdity of the situation didn't escape her; she'd admitted to herself how she felt about him, something she'd denied herself, and Jarod, for too long, yet she didn't want to let herself fall completely in case she'd been mistaken. In case the truth was that she'd pushed him away one too many times. In case he'd moved on.
It was now dark outside, the Spring day had come abruptly to an end, seemingly before its time. But there was nowhere else she'd rather be, certainly not back in Blue Cove. She didn't realise at first that his hand had moved; she wasn't sure if she'd imagined it and her eyes flickered to his face, expecting to see him wide awake. His eyes remained shut but this time she definitely felt his fingers brush against hers. "Jarod?" she spoke softly, a smile riding her lips and her stomach swirling in anticipation of his reaction.
She watched him struggle to open his eyes, as his fingers curled around hers with all the strength he could find. Eyelashes fluttered against his skin as he strove to complete his task, only to be met with the violent glare of the hospital lights which made him seek to close them again. She could only smile, despite the anticipation, as she watched him swallow a few times. His eyes, now open once more and adjusted to the brightness, finally focussed on her, his brow furrowed as if he was fighting his way through the fog of drugs to comprehend the situation. His hand still remained in hers, something that gave her hope.
"Parker?" There was disbelief in his voice, as if, despite what his eyes and ears were telling him, he couldn't quite believe she was there.
She could only nod her head as her thumb began to unconsciously rub the back of his hand. She had to swallow a few times, to push the rising fear in her stomach down, before she could speak. "How are you feeling?" The words sounded woefully inadequate the moment they left her mouth.
He didn't answer immediately, just stared at her almost dumbfounded. His eyes flickered around her, orientating himself with a room that was obviously not associated with The Centre, then strayed back to her eyes. She figured there must be a multitude of questions on the tip of his tongue; mostly concerning The Centre and her presence, but they never appeared. Maybe the fact she was sat at his side, not holding a gun, wearing the same clothes he had last seen her in swayed him. He stared at her for another beat, a hint of uncertainty still present, before answering. "Like I was run over by one of those double decker buses."
Her smile dropped slightly and her thumb ceased its movements, perturbed once more by the very thought that it could have been a lot worse. "It was a car," she uttered painfully, the memory of the event no less viscious or powerful as it ran through her thoughts again - even with the passage of time and an apparently fortunate outcome. Memories she thought would now be exorcised. Her features must have given her away as Jarod now stared at her intently, his own misgivings seemingly forgotten and cautiousness thrown to the wind.
"Are you okay?" he asked, his thumb now rubbing against her hand.
She managed another quick nod of her head in reply as a rogue tear slipped down one cheek. She wasn't sure if it was evoked by her memories of the day or by his obvious concern. He should have been on edge, concerned for his own welfare. She clammed up. Now that the moment of truth had arrived she wanted more time. "I should get the nurse...," she said, rising from her seat, brushing the tear away with her free hand. Her other hand remained locked with his and he held onto her, gently tugging her back to her seat. She sat back down on the hard, uncomfortable chair and avoided his eyes. This was harder for her than it had been telling Sydney, than it had been to admit to herself. This time there was a chance that she could end up hurt.
"Parker," he chided gently.
She stared at their joined hands for a moment. If she were to objectively look at her relationship with Jarod she would have seen all she needed to know; she would have known no fear, she would have held no doubts. She drew her gaze up to his warm brown eyes, willing herself to come clean. Something she had once heard rang in her ears: 'You're either dipping your toe, or you're drowning'. She'd sat on the edge of the pool for too long, it was time to see if she could swim. "I thought I'd lost you."
"You've never lost me," he replied easily, his eyes staring into hers with such fervency that she was taken slightly aback. Some of her doubts began to ease, he'd swam right over to her.
"Jarod," she began hesitantly, "I..." she paused, mesmerised by his gentle strokes on her hand and falling ever deeper into his gaze. She didn't manage to finish the sentence.
He raised one eyebrow intrigued as he struggled to sit himself upright, wincing as he did so, injuries reminding him of his fight with the car. He only managed to rise a few inches up his bed, partly due to his reluctance to relinquish his hold on either Parker's hand or her gaze. His head now a little further up the pillow, and now vaguely aware of the garish colour of the hospital gown he was clad in, he waited to see if she would continue. "Parker," he prompted after a moment or two.
"Why did you smile at me?" she blurted out, finally vanquishing what little fear that remained. "Before the car... you just smiled at me." She felt she needed to know what exactly had lain behind that action. It had been that smile that had changed everything and she wanted to know that she hadn't misread the situation, that she hadn't put all of her money on one roll of the dice. That he was actually saying what she thought he was saying.
"Because the last person, the very last vision, I was going to lay my eyes on was you... And I had the opportunity to tell you one last time how I feel."
She swallowed hard, keeping tears of joy at bay with a struggle. "That turning point," she whispered quietly, a hesitant smile appearing at the corners of her mouth, "Is your offer still open?"
He smiled, a brilliantly wide and beautiful smile, as he had done earlier in the day. A smile that had flipped her world upside down and was now doing something similar to her stomach. "Always," he replied softly.
She gave in to her earlier impulse and ran her hand lightly down his cheek, eyes still locked on his. There was no need for any further words, the deal silently agreed by eye contact alone; all that remained was to seal it. She leant towards him slowly, hand now cupping his cheek, and closed the gap between them. She brushed her mouth against his, her stomach fluttering wildly, lips tingling. A long, sweet, much yearned for kiss ensued, the silence only punctuated by the machine monitoring Jarod's heartbeat, the beeps increasing in pace. Had her own heart been subject to such scrutiny the results would have been the same.