Chapter eight

Disclaimer: Hickory, dickory, dock,

The mouse ran up the clock,

The clock struck one, the mouse ran down,

Hickory, dickory dock.

Brandy: Jarod miiiigght be alright. Depends on how I'm feeling. #grins evilly# Incentive to review ay? btw, I have no objection to the word 'love' used in reviews. Multiple uses of the word 'love' indicate great enjoyment of the story. That shows I'm doing something right. Glad you liked the escape scene- I was going for the action movie style.

gemini006007: Now Jarod's free, with Parker and Sydney, do you really think he'd give up by dying? ...Well, read to see

Onisius: Well, you've asked the poignant question. You'll have to read to find out. But once you've finished doing that, hurry up and update your stories Missy. If you have time to review, you have time to write. Go on.

SezZie: All seven parts ay? Sure you didn't skip the fifth one? Kidding. I read your bio. Don't know why you complain about Perth. It's a nice place. Cozy. I live in the Melbourne which you seem to think is so wonderful. Believe me, it's overrated. If I could stand 30 degree days for more that a few weeks a year, then I'd swap with you. Ah well, at least you don't pine for Sydney. Or... Adelaide #shudder#. Anyway, thanks for the review. Read on.

ICD: Get angry will you? Is this update soon enough or should I go and hide under the couch? Don't know why you're so excited about getting to leave a review. Usually I only bother unless I'm berating someone about their grammar. Not that I'm complaining or anything.

mfkngst: You have excellent precognition. Tender shipper moments will abound in the next coupla chapters. Canada. Hmm... OK, so it may be other side of the world, but we both despise Americans right?

Pretender Fanatic: energiser bunny theory. Hmm. Perhaps not hugely scientific sounding, but meh. I like it. Hey, don't bag morbid children! It's perfectly normal. Did you know that before they got sanitised, most fairy tales involve blood or gore of some sort? It's a large part of being a kid.

zeilfanaat: people not reviewing not affecting how fast I write? Who have you been talking to? OK, moving house does grant you special exemption, but just this once. Enjoy.

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The battered ute pulled into the driveway of what Jarod assured them was a safe house. He briskly opened his door and stepped out before Sydney and Parker had unclipped their seat-belts. Parker quickly leapt out of the car and hurried around to give him a shoulder to lean on. He refused her help, limping to the door and retrieving a key from under the doormat. Sydney and Parker followed him into the small but neat house; both fully prepared to catch him if he fainted at anytime.

When they were inside he gave the small neat living room a cursory glance to check that all was as he had left it then turned to the two that were watching him carefully. Ignoring their concerned looks he began to briskly give orders. 'We have to get the ute out of the driveway; the Centre will find us otherwise. And we need to contact Broots, we'll need his help. And...'

'Jarod!' said Sydney. The pretender looked around at the two standing behind him and frowned questioningly. 'Jarod, stop' said Sydney, more softly this time. Jarod froze for a moment then sighed and gently collapsed in a heap. The old man moved with surprising speed to catch the pretender as he fell. Parker moved to help and they manoeuvred him onto the couch.

'Is he OK Syd?' asked Parker worriedly.

'We can only hope so, ' replied the psychiatrist quietly, intently watching the unconscious man. 'He's right though, we need to get rid of the car.'

'I'll do it, you look after him' replied Parker. Sydney nodded and she walked back outside to the ute, which Jarod had left running, having no way of turning it off.

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By the time Parker returned, Sydney had washed the majority of the blood out of Jarod's hair and started dressing his torso with a very well stocked first aid kit he had found in the bathroom. He had cut the shirt off and when Parker opened the front door she was greeted with a brutal view of Jarod's bruised and battered chest. Again, she speculated on how he had managed to crawl so far through the vents to escape.

'How bad is it?' asked Parker when she could speak again.

'Your twin was not kind' replied Sydney. Parker grimaced. 'Any broken bones?'

'Only his fingers that I can tell so far.'

She left Sydney to it, unable to bear the sight of Lyle's abuse. Every cut was another crime she had ignored, another childhood stolen. Trying to divert her mind, she wandered through the rest of the house. Looking in the cupboard in the kitchen, she knew instantly that Jarod had been here before. 'We have sugar' she muttered to herself. Wandering on she found two bedrooms and a bathroom. Back in the main room she found a handgun hidden in the bookcase and gratefully armed herself.

'We can't stop here long Syd'

'I know. We should be all right for at least a day though. Besides, Jarod's not going to wake up for a good twelve hours.'

'Will he wake up?' asked Parker, harshly voicing both their fears. Sydney looked at the unconscious pretender and sighed. 'I hope so Parker. He pushed himself pretty hard.' The psychiatrist knew what he had been put through would have been enough to kill a weaker man. Jarod was tough, but he had taken so much in his life. Sydney was worried that this would be the final straw. It was not simply the physical wounds. The metal facet of the torture is not a thing a person could easily forget.

Parker stood for a moment, just staring, then went back into the main bedroom, where she retrieved a blanket. When she returned it seemed that the psychiatrist had finished the washing of most of the worst wounds, and had dressed the large gash that ran from the top of Jarod's chest to the bottom. He was now working on Jarod's head wounds so she covered the rest of the unconscious pretender with the blanket. Sydney looked up in surprise. 'If we want to stay out of Lyle's way, then we'll need him.' She explained, attempting to rebuild the wall that Jarod had so successfully removed with his wide innocent eyes as they had talked in the cell together. Sydney just smiled his knowing, psychiatrist smile.

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When Jarod did wake up, he felt like shit. Bits that he didn't know he had were hurting. He let out a groan to give the world some warning then opened his eyes.

He was in a living room and the cool blue of predawn light was pushing in around the edges of the curtain. A trickle of memories turned into a flow, filling him in on just where he was, and what that ache in his fingers was.

A soft sigh made him raise his head, and he became aware of a dark form in a chair by his head. She had found a semi-comfortable position in the hard, wooden chair and was dozing. Even as he watched, the form moved, straightened slightly and then a pair of blue eyes met his. He rested his head back against the pillow and groggily gazed upon her beauty.

They both remained silent for several moments before Jarod ventured a soft 'hey.'

'Syd said you wouldn't be awake for at least another three hours' she also spoke softly, with no reproach or anger in her voice- something Jarod had rarely heard.

'Well Sydney did the smart thing and slept in a bed, instead of spending the night in a chair' he chided her gently, his voice rough with sleep.

'He would have if I hadn't made him go to bed' she replied in defence. Jarod laughed softly and decided to let her indiscretion drop. 'Do you want some painkillers?' she asked.

'No thanks. I need to stay sharp.'

'We've got your back Jarod. You're not on your own anymore.' Parker told him in a one of her rare open moments.

'Thankyou Miss Parker,' he replied sincerely, 'but I have been through worse without painkillers. If it has done nothing else for me then the Centre has made me tough.'

'It has also broken most of your fingers and three of your toes. Stop being stubborn PEZ head.'

'I thought it was just an offer'

'You know me better than that.'

Jarod laughed and gave in. Once Parker had watched him take the two white pills she went to the kitchen in search of something that wasn't pure sugar. She reappeared a few minutes later with a cup of hot soup for the injured man and found that Jarod had dozed off again. She stood and watched him sleep, a faint smile on her lips as the soup went cold.

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TBC.