REALITY CHECK
by Rebeckah
Annie's Story, part 2
I lay completely still, when I first woke up, trying to figure out what was wrong.  I recognized the bed and the room, no illusions that I wasn’t at the Centre this time!  Something was different, though.  What?

First I realized that I’d slept peacefully for the remainder of the night.  Not one nightmare had interrupted my rest.  Then I registered the dead weight pressing against my back and remembered that I was sharing my bed with Jarod.  I identified the weight as Jarod's arm.

I'd shifted around in my sleep until I'd managed to roll onto my stomach, my preferred sleeping position.  Jarod seemed to have remained in the same position all night; on his side, facing me, with the one arm draped loosely over my middle.

Once again I tensed up as fear and recriminations rose in my mind.  The room was slowly brightening as the diffuse lighting activated to simulate dawn, and in the light of that false dawn I suspected I’d made a terrible choice.  I stretched my senses to their limit, trying to determine the alertness of my companion.  He seemed to sleep on, but I wondered if he could possibly be oblivious to the pounding of my heart.

I turned my head, moving cautiously in case I was wrong in my suspicion that he was awake.  Soft brown eyes inspected my face with alarming interest.  I flushed a bright red as embarrassment flooded me.  Now I felt trapped by the heaviness of Jarod's arm and I jerked away from his loose embrace, literally rolling off the bed when he made no effort to resist my move.

"Sleep well?"  His voice, as smooth and sinful as chocolate, with just a thread of laughter in it, caused my breathing to catch oddly as I peeked over the edge of the bed.  Those eyes, just as enticing as his deep voice, held the tiniest glint of amusement, which did nothing to ease my discomfort.

I knew he'd noted everything, my pounding heart, my rapid breathing, and the tremor in the hand that raked tangled curls out of my eyes.  He couldn't have known why I was so jittery; he still hadn't moved and obviously couldn’t have threatened me.  But sympathy radiated from his strong face, increasing my irrational mortification and making me suspect that he knew more about me than I wanted to share with anyone. I gave a jerky nod to indicate my satisfactory sleep, pulled myself up to my feet, and hurried to the dresser.

He sat up and stretched unselfconsciously, doing my blood pressure and my peace of mind no good, and watched while I rapidly grabbed fresh underclothes and snatched a simple jumper dress from the closet.  I knew that I was being silly, that I might even hurt his feelings by my ridiculous overreaction to his presence, but with his eyes following my every move, his analytical mind weighing my every action, I felt more naked than a banana without its skin.  I practically dove into the safety the bathroom offered, shutting the door decisively behind me.  It didn’t help my discomfort any when I had to open the door again an instant later to throw his clothes out to him.

I opted to shower, counting on the ripples in the glass of the shower door to protect my modesty if Jarod should enter while I bathed.  I needed to have hot water pouring over me, washing away tension and soothing frayed nerves.  Actually, I need a strong sedative, but a shower was the best I could do.  I spent a long time in there, realizing that the one benefit the Centre offered was unlimited hot water.

<Come live in hell!>  My alter ego chimed up.  <Plenty of hot water for everyone!>

I made a mental note to see a psychiatrist if I ever got out of this place.  I obviously needed help in getting that pesky personality out of my head.

When I emerged from the bathroom, cleaned and changed, the bed was neatly made.  The quilt I’d left on the couch had been replaced on its stand, Jarod’s clothes were gone from the floor, and the room was empty.  I still felt raw and nervous, but I was trying to calm down.  Jarod was about to have enough problems of his own without dealing with  my nerves.

My efforts to relax were in vain; my heart lurched again painfully when I saw him sitting at the small table, five-o'clock shadow on his jaw and a purple bruise under one eye.  He looked up at my uncertain entrance, and gave me an encouraging smile.  Apparently somewhere along the way he’d decided I wasn’t one of the enemy.

Then again, it would be pretty hard to consider me a threat when I jumped at every sound and movement.

He was picking at the unidentifiable mush in front of him.  My usual breakfast had been duplicated, with slightly larger portions for Jarod.  I almost managed a smile at the glum expression that accompanied his unhappy exploration of our meal.

"I see Raines has put us on his "guaranteed to make you wish you were dead" nutritional program."  He offered suddenly with an expressive look at his plate.  "I could really use a jelly donut right now."  He muttered like a sulky little boy while I slid gingerly into the chair opposite him.

I smiled quickly, amused by his predicament and saw an answering smile on his face.  There was a hint of self-congratulation in the grin he gave me, making me wonder if he was deliberately playing up his unhappiness to take my mind off of my unease.  I dropped my eyes and my smile as anxiety overwhelmed me again.  Ignoring my food---I knew that I couldn’t swallow even that mush the way my nerves had closed off my throat---I clutched my tea like a drowning swimmer clutched a lifejacket.

Once again I was subject to a searching scrutiny.  How could one man have eyes that were so warm and inviting you wanted to sink into them and never come back out again and yet so penetrating, so perceptive, that you wanted to crawl under a rock while you still had secrets left to hide?  I knew the instant he picked up the fading marks from Lyle's visit and my cheeks heated as I silently berated myself for grabbing a sleeveless dress.  It didn’t matter in the slightest that I knew the bruises had nothing to do with me or my self worth, I felt the shame common to victims of abuse, and I found myself wrapping my arms protectively around my body.

"Don't be embarrassed."  Jarod advised quietly, his velvet voice bringing a measure of comfort, even if it didn’t erase the pain.  I pulled my eyes up to meet his, silently begging him not to feel sorry for me.  He seemed to understand, beginning a casual conversation as I forced my arms to unwind from my stomach and picked up the tea again.

"I'm Jarod."  He introduced himself politely.  For some reason I was surprised that he didn’t know that I knew exactly who he was.  I nodded my head to indicate my understanding, sipping my tea to ease the dryness in my mouth.

He was being far kinder than I had expected, but he was still inspecting me, still trying to get into my head, and that increased my nervousness.

“And your name is?”  He prompted gently.  “You can spell it in sign language if you can’t talk, as I believe you indicated last night.  At  least, I think that’s what you made me understand last night.  It’s all something of a blur now.”

My teeth began to hurt, and the tea sloshed in the cup as my hand started to tremble.  I realized then how tightly I was clenching my jaw.

I wasn't about to give him the name Raines had given me but I wasn't willing to risk the possible consequences of giving him my true name.  Even though I didn’t think Raines would send Lyle in to “discipline” me until after he’d achieved his objective, I wasn’t positive.

I was positive, though, that Raines would be enraged if I chose to ignore the name he’d given me.  Not that I thought for a moment Raines really cared what I called myself.  He’d just be angry that I’d ignored his wishes.  That was enough to bring Lyle down on me, however, and I wasn’t ready to risk that.  Jarod was just going to have to live with "hey, you" for me.

"Okay," he murmured thoughtfully, correctly interpreting my lack of response.  “You won’t or can’t give me your name.  How about if I call you Jane, for Jane Doe?”

He laughed at my unconscious grimace of distaste.  It wasn’t the most imaginative choice he could have made.

“Yes, it does lack originality.”  He acknowledged, following my thoughts with uncanny accuracy.  “How about Annie, then?  You kind of have little orphan Annie eyes and your hair is red and curly.”

I raised a skeptical eyebrow---I’d certainly never felt like a little orphan Annie before---but I accepted this choice with a resigned smile and a subtle nod.  I wasn’t too sure that picking a new name wouldn’t anger Raines just as badly as giving out my own name would, but even I had limits I wouldn’t be pushed past.

“Now, is there any way you can tell me where you come from?  Why you’re here---with me?”  He questioned, beginning to shovel food into his mouth and swallow without paying any attention to it.

I stared at him; feeling hypnotized by his vitality and confidence even as my own shaky calm faltered.  How could I tell him where I was from?  It would sound crazy!  And I didn’t think I had the nerve to tell him why I was here---besides, I strongly suspected that he knew, he just didn’t want to believe it.

I looked away finally, avoiding his probing inspection and rubbing my hands up and down my upper arms nervously.  Jarod’s watchful gaze somehow frightened me more than Lyle at his worst.  Lyle wasn't trying to know me, just to enjoy my pain.  Jarod, though----Jarod wanted to understand, and that thought scared me half to death.

“While you’re an improvement over the isolation of my original stay here at the Centre,” Jarod began, amusement lacing his rich voice.  “I must admit your conversational skills leave something to be desired.”

I shot him a quick, hurt glance, tears pressing at the back of my eyes.  If only I could talk!

“Hey, I’m sorry.”  He said quietly.  “I didn’t think before I opened my mouth.  I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Once again tears threatened, this time at the simple respect he gave me with that apology.  I’d almost forgotten what it was like to be treated like a fellow human being instead of a possession.

The surge of gratitude his words brought triggered my protective barriers, though.  I couldn’t depend on Jarod.  He was a prisoner just  like me, and I was deathly afraid of liking him.  Friendship is a weakness to be exploited in the Centre, not a boon.  I considered walking away, knowing that if I didn't put some distance between us I was going to start feeling far more than I should, given our situation.

I could have, should have, gone to the living room area and ignored him entirely, but the truth was that I was starved for human companionship.  Even with the threat that Jarod posed to my peace of mind his company was still preferable to the loneliness of the preceding month.  Once again I found my eyes drawn to him, and knew he saw the conflict and misery I felt.

Jarod left his chair and rounded the table to crouch in front of me.  His long fingers lifted my chin, exposing the nearly invisible scar on my throat, stroking it once with a feather light touch before he turned
his attention to the black eye fading on my face.  If he hadn’t known from my performance earlier that I didn’t like being touched, he should have been clued in by my sudden, utter stillness.  Once again I felt threatened, vulnerable, and exposed, even though nothing Jarod had done from the moment I’d met him was remotely menacing.

"Raines?"  He asked gently.  I blinked back sudden tears.  I was not going to cry in front of this man!  I was not going to let him get under my skin.  This was why he was dangerous to me---he seemed to need my trust, but I didn’t know how to give that.  I didn’t want to know how to trust!

Relying on another was simply too risky, too uncertain, to bear.  But with his every word and gesture Jarod continued to offer me a security that I didn’t, couldn’t, believe in.  He didn't seem to need my response, though, he just nodded his head and moved his attention to the yellow brown lines peeping from under the dress on my shoulders and appearing on my upper arms.

"Why?"  He asked me, his expressive eyes inviting me to release my defenses and share my troubles with him.  Wariness, learned the hard way, won out and I jerked away from him, following my earlier inclination and retreating to the sofa and chairs.

Jarod, rather than take offense as I’d half hoped he would, simply followed me with terrifying persistence.

"At least tell me what's on Raines' twisted mind this time."  He crouched once again in front of me, but this time refrained from touching me, leaving his arms lying loosely on his knees.  It was as though he knew that he stood no chance of breaching my determined isolation as long as he threatened my personal space.

He didn’t seem to realize that my personal space wasn’t the only thing I guarded.  I protected my emotions from outsiders just a zealously.  I buried my face in my hands, wishing he’d go away, and I wondered where my anger was---it used to help me when I felt threatened---but how could I be angry with Jarod?  All he wanted was answers.

That thought shook me out of my self-indulgent fears.  I stood, holding out my hand to stop Jarod when he would have started to follow me, and went into the bedroom.  Beside the bed were the legal pad and pen that had followed me as I moved from room to room in the Centre.  I grabbed them and headed back to the outer room.

The shaky wall guarding my heart trembled again at the look of relief that flared in Jarod’s eyes when I reappeared at the door.  He wasn’t  as strong or confident as he wanted me to believe.  He wanted to forge a connection almost as much as I was determined to avoid one.  Maybe he was as afraid of being alone as I was of being connected emotionally.

I sat down on the couch and began to write, forcing myself to ignore Jarod’s closeness when he sat beside me and leaned lightly against me to read as I wrote.

"Raines is one sick puppy."  I wrote, not really caring if he understood the euphemism.  “He doesn’t believe you’ll ever be of use to the Centre again.”

“Well at least he got that right.”  Jarod muttered fiercely.

“So he wants his own baby pretender.”  I ignored Jarod’s indrawn breath and the fine tremors that wracked my body and continued doggedly.  My cheeks felt so hot that I was surprised my hair hadn't caught on fire, but I was going to finish this!

“He had a scientist named Walsh working on some sort of genetically engineered human---and apparently also on a way to accelerate the growth of the baby.  I guess he has an artificial womb already working.  Walsh’s experiment was altered when something exploded on SL-19, from another project.  I don’t belong here---“

“None of us do.”  Jarod muttered again softly.

“No, I don’t belong in this reality.  Where I was----you, Raines, the Centre--- it was all a TV show.  I got dragged here by the accident.”

“You mean you’re from a parallel world?”

“I guess.  That or I’m completely nuts and this is all a figment of my shattered mind.”  I gave him the most honest answer I had.  “I haven’t decided which answer I prefer, either.”

“Theoretically parallel worlds could exist, like ours, but different in small ways.”  Jarod reflected out loud.  “But I don’t think that it’s very likely that a simple explosion would tear the boundaries between realities.”

“There was a storm on my world.  I think that lightning hit the transformer right by my room.  I think I remember an explosion.”

“So both sides of the reality boundary were stressed.  It’s possible.”  Jarod admitted slowly.

<Practically anything is possible.>  My annoying persona chimed in spitefully, before I firmly locked her in the back of my mind.

“Whatever. I woke up here, in the Centre.  I think I was in a coma or something for a long time, because Raines had my vocal chords cut soon after my arrival, but the scar was completely healed before Dr. Johnson started taking care of me.”

“Dr. Johnson?”

“He works here too.  I got pneumonia before I ever woke up.  I was really thin and weak when I finally did wake up.  Everyone was surprised that I was an intelligent, functioning adult.  I was surprised to see Raines.”  I added in a masterly understatement.

I watched Jarod digest the information, searching his expression for the slightest hint of skepticism, but he seemed remarkably willing to believe.

"Then," he concluded slowly, "For all intents and purposes you don't exist."

"BINGO" I printed, my lips twisted in a bitter smile.  "I'm not even sure who I am anymore.  He told me my blood type matches yours!"  The lump in my throat grew a little larger with that memory.  Frankly, with the emotional turmoil I had experienced since waking up this morning, I was surprised I could still breathe!

"I take it you weren't AB negative?"

"O positive."

"So Dr. Frankenstein has created his version of the perfect bride."  A small frown furrowed his brows, I could finally see that the concept was making Jarod as queasy as it made me.

"But just what makes him think we'll cooperate?  No offense, but I feel no burning desire to be fruitful and multiply.”

<Maybe I'd be offended if I was as young as I look right now.>  I thought grimly.  <But the fact of the matter is that I'm relieved you share my sentiments on the matter!>

"Raines and Johnson both told me that they have a drug that will make you----cooperative."  I wrote simply.  I didn’t bother to add anything about the violent side effects that had been hinted at.

"He would."  Jarod sighed, a tired, defeated sound.  I laid my hand over his, drawn to comfort him against my better inclinations.  He didn’t seem to notice it; instead he jumped out of his chair and began pacing as his agitation grew.

"No---there has to be an alternative---" a sick look of utter desperation lurked in the back of his eyes.  I wondered if he saw the reflection of that agony in my troubled face.  I knew that he'd rather die than have a child of his in the hands of the Centre.  Unfortunately, I was convinced that Raines wasn't about to give either of us that particular option.

Jarod beat a fist into his open palm as he paced the length of the room, mumbling words and phrases to himself as he wracked his brains for a solution.  The lines of a Dr. Who episode leaped to the front of my mind.

"He talks to himself sometimes because he's the only one who understands what he's talking about."

Suddenly he seemed to realize that his agitation would only serve to amuse Raines because he stopped his pacing.  He stood where he was, eyes closed, hands fisted, and a scowl of determination lining his face.  He trembled with the effort of harnessing his violent emotions, but seemed to accomplish that restraint in only moments.  A shudder coursed through his entire body and then he relaxed, starting with his face and moving down until even his hands had unclenched.  I was impressed, to say the least.

"Don't worry."  He told me confidently, looking at me through criminally thick eyelashes, his head tilted in a position that denoted determination.  "I'll get us out of here, somehow."

I smiled unconvincingly and his confident mask dropped away into a wry smile, acknowledging the validity of my reservations.

<God, I like honesty in a man!>  I admitted regretfully, unwillingly drawn to his willingness to admit he wasn’t infallible.  <Why couldn’t I have found someone like him in my other life?>

<Because he’s the product of cooperative scriptwriters>, the perverse imp in the back of my mind whispered.

My heart dropped sickeningly as I heard the door click, only then realizing I'd been listening for that sound since I'd exited the bedroom.  I felt the blood drain from my face again and wondered absently if I was going to faint.  Jarod grasped my icy hand, somehow transferring his strength to me through that touch, and drew me up from the chair to stand by his side, but with his body interposed between me and the three men who were advancing on us.

"Hello, children!"  Lyle began cheerfully, his perfectly sculpted face aglow with malicious curiosity.  "Did you get acquainted last night?"

I wanted to close my eyes to block out the faintly taunting grin that creased his face but it was impossible to tear my eyes from the duel of wills taking place between Lyle and Jarod.  Both men were tall and darkly attractive, but one radiated such evil and the other such decency.

<The devil truly is beautiful,> I thought, numb now with an emotional overload.  <How can he look so clean cut and attractive when he harbors such a dark soul?> I gripped Jarod’s hand so tightly by knuckles were white.

"Do you like our little Eve, Jarod?"  Lyle was in no hurry to complete his mission, preferring to twist the knife a little deeper first.

"You'd never believe what we went through to get her for you."  He confided in a solemn whisper.  "But you know Raines; nothing but the  best for his Pretender!"

Dark spots danced in front of my eyes, reminding me that I had to breathe.  As I slowly inhaled I heard Jarod's deep voice responding to Lyle, but it seemed to come from a vast distance away.

"Where is Sydney?"  Jarod asked, his voice calm and even.  I didn't know if it was for my benefit or to irritate Lyle.

"Sydney isn't your mentor anymore, Jarod.  He's been reassigned."  Lyle's smile had an edge sharp enough to cut steel.

"Does he even know I'm here?"  Jarod pressed, ignoring Lyle's attempts to goad him.

"Why should he?  Raines is in charge of your case."

"Trust me, I'd work better for Sydney."

"Maybe."  Lyle admitted without seeming to care one way or another. "Maybe after Raines has what he wants he'll let Sydney take over again."

"No."  Just one word but with a wealth of rejection.

"You have no choice, wonderboy."  Lyle taunted vindictively, finally speaking the words he'd been waiting impatiently to hurl at Jarod since the moment of his recapture.  "Now it's your turn to lose a piece of yourself, even if the scars won't be visible to the naked eye.  Somehow I think you’ll miss your self-righteous shield of honor far more than I ever will my thumb!"

My fingers were forcefully peeled away from their death-grip on Jarod's hand by Lyle as the two thugs who'd accompanied him flanked Jarod, each holding an arm in a restraining grip, even though he’d made no move since standing at Lyle’s arrival.

"This is such a sweet little drug."  Lyle gloated, pulling a slender syringe from a pocket in his suit jacket.  "It's a little slow getting started, but boy oh boy when it does!"  He continued, releasing me to pull out an alcohol swab from that same pocket.  He thrust it at me.

"Go ahead, Eve!"  His glare dared me to misunderstand his command.  My eyes darted to Jarod's face as I tore open the packet, my hands shaking uncontrollably--- but he didn't even glance my way.  His burning eyes were fixed on Lyle's face as he stood, outwardly calm and relaxed in the grip of the two men, and their silent battle continued.

I rubbed the alcohol on his shoulder, his dark blue T-shirt pulled up by a guard to expose the flesh.  Lyle held the syringe to me invitingly, swiftly capturing my neck with his free hand when I shook my head and started backing away.  Tears spilled over my cheeks, a combination of helpless anger and the pain.  It was almost as if I was doing the feeling for both of us, as Jarod sublimated all of his own anguish in his hatred for Lyle.

"I simply inject it into the muscle," Lyle struck swiftly, thrusting the plunger down with more force than necessary, his other hand squeezing painfully on my neck in his excitement.

<Oh, goody!>  My other self finally chipped in, <more bruises!>

Jarod's eyes finally met mine, full of some silent communication that I sensed but didn't understand.  Was he promising me security?  Safety?  Revenge?  I didn’t know, and he didn’t speak, but I felt just a little stronger.

Lyle, unwilling to share the attention, drew our attention back to him, finishing his explanation with malevolent enthusiasm.  "And your own body does the rest."

I saw a drop of dark red blood well up as Lyle pulled the needle out as swiftly as he'd inserted it.  He threw another alcohol packet at me, laughing when I fumbled to catch it. He didn't release me, as I wiped the blood off Jarod's shoulder, noting the angry purple and red bruise already forming.  The guards continued to hold Jarod firmly, though he'd made no move to resist them even when Lyle stabbed him with the needle.

"The longer you resist your animal impulses," Lyle hissed spitefully, infuriated by Jarod's lack of response, but maintaining a thin veneer of control.  "The more violent they---you---will become!”

“It will take at least a week for the agent to move out of your system,” he added, dragging his veneer of suave control over his emotions with an effort that I could almost hear.  “So you might as well enjoy yourself.  Like this--" he tilted my head up with the painful pressure of his fingers digging into my neck and pressed a lingering kiss on my unresponsive lips.  I forced myself to hold perfectly still; knowing that if I struggled it would only encourage him.

Lyle gestured at the guards to release Jarod and propelled me into Jarod's newly freed arms in one lightning move.  For once I didn't flinch away from a man's touch, feeling safer when Jarod's arms came around me than I had since I'd awakened in this hell.

Lacking the energy to fight my desire for security, I gave in to impulse and let myself burrowed against his body, hoping to absorb some of his strength.  His heart beat pulsed reassuringly beneath my cheek and his embrace tightened fractionally at my needy response.  I didn’t have to open my eyes, though, to know that he wasn’t paying the slightest attention to me.  No, his face would appear to be perfectly composed, but a white-hot anger would be lancing out of his eyes towards Lyle, even as he unconsciously comforted me.

"Don't worry, Eve."  Lyle goaded vengefully one last time before turning towards the door, making me quiver harder and squeeze my eyes shut tighter.  He paused until I finally looked up, clenching Jarod’s T-shirt with two white knuckled hands.  "I'll come back later and we'll work on it."

If I could have made a sound I would have whimpered.  As it was, I buried my face against Jarod’s chest again and cried helplessly.  Jarod’s protective hold grew firmer and he moved his body more fully between my tormenter and me.  Lyle's gloating laugh was cut blessedly short as the door locked behind him.

In the silence that followed my implacable alter ego reminded me that I didn't like to be touched.  I tried to ignore it, but then it reminded me that Jarod had been drugged, and I had no idea what he’d do now.  I might be in greater danger from him than I had been from Lyle.

I was amazed as I backed out of Jarod's embrace, tears still dripping down my face, at how hard it was to leave the shelter of his arms.  Feelings of loss and isolation assailed me the moment he released me, and were joined by guilt as Jarod sighed once, sounding as lost and hurt as I felt.

“Don't look at me that way."  Jarod entreated me, his dark eyes nearly black with emotion in a face that radiated such sorrow that I almost reached out to comfort him.  Almost, but not quite, still bound by a lifetime of wariness.

"Are you okay?"  I finally mouthed timidly, wanting desperately to erase that solitary misery, but deeply frightened by what the drug might be doing to his normally gentle nature.  I knew that he had reserves of pain and anger built up in him that rivaled my own, and if that drug released his hold on them---well, I wasn’t going to think about that.

"My arm hurts."  He admitted wearily, rubbing the offended shoulder.  "But I don't feel any different otherwise."  He knew instinctively what terrified me the most.  “I promise, I’ll warn you if I start to
feel----agitated.”

I actually trusted Jarod, more than I had ever believed I could trust a man, but I still flinched when he moved to sit on the couch.  My involuntary rejection made his eyes darken with further.  But even then, he tried again to reach through my fear and comfort me.

"Lyle's did this."  Jarod gently traced the remains of my black eye.  "Didn't he?"

I nodded, glad for once that I couldn't speak.  My mouth was so dry that I could never have formed the words to answer him.  It had taken all of my self-control not to jerk back when he'd reached toward my face.

"Lyle bruised your face, but just who bruised your soul?"  He whispered, his eyes full of compassion and an understanding that only a person with similar scars could have.

I looked at him blankly, thrown off balance by his empathy.  It was unnerving to realize that emotionally I was far more prepared to deal with Lyle, and his cruelty, than with this familiar stranger, and his gentle respect.  Finally I shrugged---my childhood wasn’t something I was prepared to go into right now.  I picked up the notepad and pen that I’d dropped when Lyle had burst into the room and wrote two simple words.

“What now?”

The misery on Jarod’s face increased and for the first time he looked away uncertainly.

“I don’t know.”  He finally admitted in a husky whisper that tugged on my taut emotions.  “I don’t want to hurt----anyone.”  He carefully avoided looking at me.

I wrote another quick message on the pad and crouched in front of Jarod, much as he’d done with me earlier.  I laid a tentative hand on his knee to get his attention.

“You won’t hurt me.”  I caught his eyes when he looked up at me questioningly and I held it, trying to communicate my trust in him before I wrote another quick message.

“I don’t know what we’ll do either, let’s just wait and see what happens.  Would you like a shower?  There’s plenty of hot water.”  I swiveled it around for him to read with a wry smile, remembering my whimsical notion earlier about hot water.

Relief washed over his face, easing some of the anguish, even though it nothing could erase it.

“Thank you.”  He said simply.  I knew he referred to my declaration of trust and felt even guiltier about my earlier reaction.  Moved by an impulse I didn't really understand, I reached out, grasping his hand and giving it a gentle squeeze.

He’d been there for me, when Lyle had me terrified and nearly mindless, and I’d repaid it by looking at him the same way I looked at Lyle.  I was going to make up for that, somehow.

“Yes.”  He mused thoughtfully.  “I guess I do feel dirty after all.  I think I’ll take that shower.  Maybe, when I get out, I could start teaching you some sign language?”  He suggested, uncertain of his welcome.

I smiled, attempting to convey reassurance and gratitude in the same gesture, and made the sign for “thank you”.  The lines on Jarod’s face eased just a little more and he almost managed a smile in return before standing abruptly and retreating to the bedroom and it’s adjoining bathroom.

I stared unseeingly at his back as he walked away, already contemplating the situation.  Jarod, as capable he seemed with his white knight routine, was in way over his head.  Yes, he knew the Centre for what it was, but he’d only experienced the full force of Raines evil nature a few times while he was growing up.  Sydney had protected him more than I suspect either of them were aware of.  Jarod didn’t have the same years of basic survival decisions that I did.  Like it or not, Johnson was right and I was the only one here now with a choice.

With grim determination I turned my attention to the notepad and began to think.  Before I’d become mute I would have talked to myself, just to hear the words and judge their validity.  Now, all I could do was write them down and evaluate them.

On one side, I wrote the word "pro" and on the other side I put “con”. Under Pro I listed things like "well being" meaning both of us.   I knew that if the drug worked the way Lyle and Raines and even Dr. Johnson seemed to believe it would, that Jarod would be shattered emotionally and I would be damaged physically if either of us tried to resist the effects.  I added ‘piss off Lyle’, believe it or not, that was a consideration for me.  I hated Lyle for what he’d done to me over the past few weeks and I loved the thought of irritating him by doing exactly what they had told me to.  I didn’t think for a moment that they believed I would---they were counting on Jarod’s honorable nature being overwhelmed by the drug, forcing him to hurt me, which, in the long run, would hurt him even more.  I suspected that a lot of Lyle’s more recent intimidation tactics were to make me afraid of men and sex in general.  Finally I added the most important reason I could think of---I like Jarod.  I can spare him, if I choose to, he can’t do anything for either of us right now.

Then, to be balanced, I went over the cons.  I was still frightened, on many levels, of being close to any man, so I started with that, fear.  Then there was the issue of morals---I’m constitutionally incapable of comprehending the concept of casual sex.  Its pretty much all or nothing for me.  However, next to the consequences that morality might bring this time, I thought I could make an exception to my standards.  There was the issue of pregnancy---which Raines wanted but, obviously, neither Jarod nor I did.  But I hadn’t had a period since I woke up in the Centre.  Considering the emotional and physical stress I’d been subjected to, it would be a minor miracle if I was actually ovulating. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t get pregnant.  Would it be better for Jarod and I to deal with the consequences of non-cooperation in the hope that it would prevent a child being brought into this hellish place?  Tough choice to make, but I was in favor, barely, of taking the chance of getting pregnant.  I really didn’t want to get hit anymore. Finally, there was my greatest issue---I like Jarod.

Yes, I know, I listed that on the pro side too.  The problem was, Jarod was pretty darn near perfect in my eyes.  He was absolutely the most gorgeous specimen of mankind I’d ever been within 10 feet of.  He was smart, and kind, and understanding.  He’d done nothing but protect and reassure me almost from the moment we’d met.  I could fall for him very easily---in fact I was probably more than half way there already.  Sex would just make the closeness---closer.

I knew I didn’t really want to fall for anyone.  Even though I’d never actually been in love before, (my husband was an escape, not the love of my life), I knew that it would leave me more vulnerable than I’d ever been.  If I could be open to anybody, it would be someone like Jarod, but I had no reason to believe he’d reciprocate my feelings and plenty of reasons to believe he wouldn't.

<Oh, get real, Rose.>  My alter ego wasn’t about to be left out of this decision, unfortunately.  <You’re making problems before you have any clue if they’ll ever happen.  So what if you fall in love with the guy?  You’re already teetering on the edge---just a few more days with him in the same room would probably push you over.  Live with it.  If he doesn’t ever feel the same, and you know he probably won’t, at least you’ll have some good memories to hold onto.  Certainly better ones than that husband of yours left you!>

Put that way, the pros won the argument hands down.  Fear, of course, coiled up in my belly as soon as I made my decision, but I pushed it into a little ball and told it to stay quiet.  I took a deep breath, and headed towards the bedroom.  Once I’d made the decision I was determined to see it through, the sooner the better.  I didn’t want the chance to lose my nerve.  (Kind of like getting into the swimming pool-- I’m the jump off the deep end and get it over with type; not the creep out an inch at a time from the shallow end type.)

The bathroom door opened and Jarod walked out, a towel wrapped around his waist, at virtually the same moment I walked in.  My breath caught in my throat.  I wasn't a child and Jarod was a devastatingly attractive man.  I was, however, painfully shy.  I had no more idea of how to implement my decision than I did on how to build an antigravity device.  Jarod’s state of undress was giving me some quite novel, if unexpected, ideas though.  Of course, my response to those ideas was to blush beet-red.

"Are you going to be okay?"  Those brown eyes radiated concern, that smooth voice sliding through my chaotic thoughts like a hot knife through butter.  I nodded my head numbly, licking parched lips
unconsciously.

<Not if you don’t put some clothes on.>  My mind contradicted firmly.  I ignored it.

"I'll think of something."  He promised earnestly with more optimism than conviction.  For once he wasn’t reading my mind.  He thought my nervousness was due to him and the drug, not realizing it was due to him and my decision.  I noticed beads of perspiration forming on his upper lip and forehead and realized that the drug was acting more quickly than I’d actually thought it would.  I had at least hoped we’d have until after lunch!

<So what?  You’re the jump right in type, right?>  I whispered encouragingly to myself.

I stepped in his direction slowly, licking my dry lips again.  Jarod's eyes narrowed as it dawned on him that I was taking matters into my own hands, and he gave a quick, negative shake of his head.  Poor man, he thought he had some say in the matter.

I felt a smile tugging at my lips as I advanced on Jarod, amused by his uncertain response, especially in the light of my own wobbly resolve. Now it was Jarod who was mesmerized.  He watched me stalk towards him, conflicting emotions holding him frozen where he stood.  Relief had filled his eyes the moment I moved towards him.

Relief that he wasn't going to have to make a move; that he didn't need to act on the pressure that had been rising in him as the drug began making its effect known.  Guilt quickly crowded in on the relief, his eyes searching my face.

Was I sure?  He asked silently.  My smile deepened in response.  Hadn't Lyle told me to enjoy myself?  Well, then I would.

We were standing toe to toe when uncertainty struck me.  What did Jarod see when he looked at me?  I knew that I wasn't ugly, but I'd never really felt pretty either.  Some small part of me believed that if I had been pretty enough I wouldn’t have been hit by my husband and father.  Now, with my mottled face and still too thin form, I fought that same demon of insecurity and self-doubt.  Jarod saw the self-consciousness and raised his hand to cup my unblemished cheek.

"You're beautiful."  He murmured with sincerity that couldn't be doubted. He slowly lowered his head---eagerly, I lifted mine.  Regrets could wait until later, I promised myself.  This was a moment I had every intention of simply enjoying.

Final part