*Author's note: takes place at the end of the third season finale where Jarod is captured. Sorry NBC and TnT...
Purgatory: Part VII
A bolt of pain seared through the back of his eyes. Jarod snapped his head back away from the doctor's hands.
"Did that hurt, Jarod?" The man asked in his Australian accent.
Jarod refused to answer, but his reaction was evidence enough.
"Jarod, you need to answer me, I'm trying to help you."
Jarod remained silent.
"Mr. Lyle, I cannot work if all he does is fight me."
"Jarod, let the good doctor do his work…"
Jarod spat in his direction, "good?" Lyle lunged, grabbing a scalpel off a nearby tray and knocked to surprised doctor to the floor with a yell. He pressed it against Jarod's throat.
"You'll never get anything from me."
"I already have, David," Jarod went rigid. Lyle flicked the blade into the air and caught it, point down. With one quick motion, he rammed it into Jarod's knee. Jarod gritted his teeth.
"Move, and the pain increases. Refuse to cooperate, I move it." He flicked the knife; Jarod groaned.
"Continue," he barked to the doctor. The man began to protest, but Lyle restated his demand.
Jarod relented, if only for the sake of the doctor. The man picked up a small flashlight.
"Jarod, I want you to look up."
The doctor shined the light in his eyes.
"It hurts. My eyes feel swollen."
The doctor leaned close, dancing the light across his eyes. "Oh my God."
He dipped his head further forward.
"Jarod, what is this? There are tiny black…"
"Enough!" Lyle cut in, twisting the blade. Jarod pressed himself into his chair; he shouted, grabbing his leg.
"I asked you here to assess his condition, not to converse…"
"But that could kill him!"
"It does not concern you."
"I am his doctor, what you are doing to his body is insane."
Lyle wrenched the knife free of Jarod and threatened the doctor. "No, you are a doctor of the Centre and if you disagree with me again, you will suffer the same fate as your patient."
"Please," Jarod said, "Don't help me."
"So, David, now you beg not to be helped. Why the sudden change of heart?"
"My name is Jarod."
"Answer me David, why do you want me to continue? Why did you try to fight me before?"
"Leave me alone."
"No one will help David."
"Leave me alone."
"No one will help you, David."
"No, I'm already dead."
"Hello, this is Sydney." He rose from his desk as he heard the news. "My God, are you certain? Yes, I will. Thank you, doctor." With this he punched the receiver and began to dial another number.
"What?" a voice answered.
"It's me," he replied, " need you and Broots to find Jarod and bring him to my office immediately."
In a half-hearted tone Miss Parker answered, "I'm sorry Sydney, in case you haven't noticed, the psychopath runs the freak show."
"Talk to your father, do anything, you must get Jarod to me if only for an hour, please."
"Fine," she hung up, mentally preparing herself for the next dance.
"Absolutely not, she will undermine all we have worked for!"
"'She' is present in case you hadn't noticed, and after three years of searching, you owe me at least an hour!"
"Angel…"
"No, Daddy, I need to see him; Sydney needs to see him."
"You brother has done a lot of work, the Centre doesn't want that ruined."
"Can't you give a human being peace," she spat.
Lyle rolled his eyes, "The Centre owns him."
Brigitte sidled up to Mr. Parker. "Honey, let's let Miss Parker have her fun. It'll only be an hour." As Mr. Parker half smiled, Brigitte winked at Miss Parker who stared. The mix of horror and confusion made her head spin.
"Don't ever make me do that again," Miss Parker ordered Sydney as she
sunk into his chair. "I don't know which is worst- watching her spell
over him, or being in her debt."
"What did she want to help you for?"
Jarod sat rocking himself back and forth in his cell. He knew Lyle was up to something, but what scared him was he didn't seem to care. It was like watching a movie; all he felt was apathy. He pounded his fist on the glass; he could feel something in that. There was pain; in pain, he felt alive. He knew he did not want this life anymore.