Chapter Sixteen - Jason Havelock
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Jason Havelock
JASON ENTERED THE lab, he dropped his gym bag by the door and removed his winter coat. Sunday afternoon was threatening snow, and Jason could sense the impending weather change.
The lab was quiet save for the hum of computer terminals in the graduate student workstations. He walked over to his own station and booted up the computer. Then walked to the lab’s ancient coffeemaker, grabbing the carafe. Soon he had filled the machine with water and added fresh discount coffee, switching it on. The machine gurgled to life and filled the lab with a fresh aroma.
Since leaving Ethan to rest at the apartment, Jason had taken peace in these smaller tasks. From lifting in the gym to now awaiting the drip, drip of the coffee. He did what he could to distract himself from the hole open in his chest threatening to pull himself inward. Quickly, he prepared himself a cup and returned to his workstation.
He recounted a few hours more worth of data analysis he had to do for Bellamy’s newest research project. Sitting down in the rickety office chair, he stared at his computer.
What if something is seriously wrong with Ethan?
Jason stared at the screen, waiting for the data analysis software to boot up. While Bellamy was able to secure millions of dollars in funding, it certainly didn’t go to technology in his lab.
Ethan’s pale face flashed in his head, his boyfriend curled on their bed clutching his head as another migraine tore through him. Jason had felt stress before — state lacrosse championships, college applications, Freshman year finals week, asking Ethan on a date— but this was different. This was heavier.
The stakes felt higher.
He rubbed his temple as he tried to focus, but every line of the transcripts felt meaningless. Jason struggled to care about the endless lines of written dialogue from research participant interviews. He didn’t care about what he could read. The parts that snuck through might as well be hieroglyphics.
Ethan was suffering.
He had no family, no friends other than the ones they shared, and no one to call to notify him of his condition. Ethan had told Jason about his foster families, but none of them sounded ready, able, or willing to support Ethan through this. What was going on with him? Ethan couldn’t, wouldn’t explain what he felt beyond calling it a “migraine.” Jason barely understood what it was, let alone explain it to anyone else.
“Jason.”
The sharp, familiar voice brought him back. He looked up to see Dr. Bellamy standing a few feet away, arms crossed, his gaze piercing. Bellamy looked exhausted, his normally impeccable appearance was blemished. His shirt was untucked and rumpled, his tie was pulled loose from his neck. There was a deep weariness in his gaze.
Jason straightened, “Sorry, Dr. Bellamy. I didn’t hear you come in.”
The professor’s eyes narrowed slightly studying him. His eyes appraised Jason with a precision that made Jason rather unsettled.
“Here on a weekend?” He said finally, taking a step towards the coffee pot.
Jason relaxed slightly, “Yeah, I have some data analysis, I need to catch up on. I know you want the coding done by the end of next week.”
Bellamy tore open a sugar packet and stirred the coffee thoughtfully, “I suppose I did say that. Well, I appreciate your diligence. But that is unlike you, Jason. You're usually on top of it all. What’s going on?”
Jason hesitated, his eyes averted Bellamy’s stare. The gravity of the hole in Jason’s chest threatened to collapse inward, “It’s personal, sir.” He finally muttered.
Bellamy took a sip of his coffee and stepped closer. “Sometimes personal matters are precisely what needs addressing. This way we are able to refocus our concentration on the task at hand. Is this about Ethan?”
Jason noted the unusual warmth in Bellamy’s voice. He was not accustomed to this level of interest in his personal life from someone Jason admired.
Nodding, Jason spoke, “He’s not doing well, sir. He’s been really sick.” The flicker of vulnerability made Jason a bit unsteady.
Bellamy’s expression didn’t shift at the mention of Ethan. He simply nodded, inviting Jason to continue. The neutrality in his expression was oddly disarming.
Jason sighed, “He’s been having these migraines. Really bad ones. I don’t know what to do. He doesn’t really have a family. He grew up in foster care, so there is no one to call. And…I haven’t exactly told my family about us yet.” He paused his voice dropped. “I don’t think they would honestly ca re, but I just got out on my own. My mom has a way of getting a little too involved and I hoped I could keep them out of it a little longer. It’s complicated.”
“I see.” Bellamy’s tone was measured, and Jason noted a shift in his demeanor — a researcher engaging a subject. “Are these migraines new?”
“They’ve gotten worse since a thing happened a few days ago.” Jason waved his hand vaguely. “There was an incident on a Ferris wheel. We got stuck at the top during the malfunction, it freaked him out. But this isn’t just anxiety. He’s…different now. Weird things are happening.”
Bellamy tilted his head, “What sort of ‘weird things?’”
Jason hesitated. Saying it out loud sounded ridiculous and he wished he could take it back, but the professor’s inquisitiveness was magnetic. He could see why Bellamy was such a respected researcher. “It is hard to explain and honestly I’m not sure I even can. Talking in his sleep…other things…”
Bellamy stayed silent leaning against an adjacent counter, watching Jason.
“Objects moving…glass pitchers of orange juice exploding randomly. Like I said, it doesn’t make sense,” Jason said, smiling nervously.
Bellamy’s lips quirked slightly, though not in mockery. He seemed interested. “Fascinating. Migraines can have an unusual neurological effect, especially if triggered by acute stress — trauma. But this…” He paused, his fingers tapped rhythmically on his knees. “This sounds like something else. Perhaps the stressful event activated something. Some type of neurological potential. Have you all been to see a physician?”
Jason blinked, “Potential? Like a psychic or something?” He laughed, ignoring the latter question, “No offense, but that sounds a little woo-woo, Dr. B.”
Bellamy didn’t flinch, “I’m surprised at you, Jason. Nearly a year and a half in my lab and your mind still remains closed to the potentials of the human brain?”
Jason frowned slightly.
“Many conditions— psychological and otherwise manifest in ways we can’t easily explain. Latent abilities, heightened under stress, are far more plausible than you might think. Take the Ferris wheel incident for example, if Ethan truly perceived you or he were in danger even for a split second this could have lit up a very specific combination of regions of the brain to activate some type of latent potential. Under stress the brain releases a myriad of neurotransmitters that coupled with specific brain region activation could result in interesting neurophysiology. Do not dismiss this so quickly, Jason. It warrants further exploration.”
Jason folded his arms, skeptical. “With respect, Dr. Bellamy. Ethan hasn’t said a word about any kind of ‘potential’ abilities. He’s been to the doctor who said that it was stress-related. He needs rest.”
Bellamy’s intensity lessened, and his gaze softened. Yet, something inscrutable flickered in his expression, “I’m not suggesting you abandon practical care. On the contrary, Ethan’s well-being is more important than ever. And sometimes, understanding what lies beneath can lead to solutions you might not be expecting.”
Jason looked away, his frustration mounting. “I just want him to be okay,” he said quietly.
“And that,” Bellamy replied, his voice gentle but firm, “is precisely why he needs help beyond what you can give him. Take him back to the doctor, and get a full neurological workup. If these incidents persist, both of you come to see me. Together. We might be able to find some answers.”
Jason nodded reluctantly. The professor’s invitation lingered in the air between them. Somehow Jason felt reassured by the option, but there was an intensity in Bellamy’s eyes Jason couldn’t shake.
Bellamy took a sip of his coffee, “Good. You’ll let me know when he’s on the mend. I’d like to have a chat with him.” He said walking away from Jason’s workstation, towards his office.
Jason turned towards his computer, his mind abuzz. One thing was for sure, Ethan needed to go back to the doctor. They had to figure out what was going on.