Disclaimer: The characters Miss Parker, Sydney, Jarod,Broots etc. and the fictional Centre, are all property of MTM and NBC Productionsand used without permission. I'm not making any money out of this and noinfringement is intended.

The song Total Eclipse Of The Heart belongs to:
- written by Jim Steinman
- #1 hit for Bonnie Tyler in 1983
- as recorded by Bonnie Tyler
*using without persmission! SORRY!*



Total Eclipse Of The Heart
part I
by Nicolette




********

(Turn around)
Every now and then I get a little bit lonely and you're never comin''round

********


Miss Parker was sitting in her office, thinking that today was definitelynot her day. She had awakened with a bad taste in her mouth and asick feeling in her stomach. She looked, for what seemed to be thethousandth time, at her mother’s watch. She’d worn it every day sinceJarod had returned it to her. It was already after 10 in the morningand still there was no sign from Broots or Sydney.

She had tried to call them both, but hadn’t reached either of them.

She continued to stare at the watch, still unable to believe thatshe had it back. Another piece from her past back where it belonged. Her gaze swept from the watch over her desk, coming to rest on the picturethat she kept on it. Every time she touched that picture of her motherin its heavy silver frame it seemed to calm her down. She alwaysfelt like her mother was telling her to keep fighting, that she wantedher daughter to stay alive, to somehow win against the evil of the Centre.

But on days like today her reasons to fight seemed to fade away-----todayshe couldn’t come up with a single reason to follow her mother’s wishes. The silence and the darkness inside of the Centre were no help in her currentframe of mind either.

A small silver object on the desk caught her attention. She reachedout and took the thimble into her hand, turning it around thoughtfully. God how did he always manage to do that? She wondered if it was thereal thimble from the her childhood game. Well, if he had managedto find Broots’ old GI Joe, why shouldn’the have been able to find her old thimble?

There's no place like home. Everyone deserves one, so why don't youleave me alone and let me find mine

Her mother’s house had always been her home, but lately it was onlyan empty shell of a home. Nothing was left of what made a home out of ahouse. That had been made clear to her the day Tommy had died. No, she corrected herself sadly, since he had been killed.

Face it Parker, no matter what you do, they will never let you go.

God she still missed Tommy! With him she had felt loved for thefirst time in-----she could not even remember in how long. He hadwanted to be with her because she was herself, not because of a false imageof her in his mind, not because of power she might wield. She haddared to dream an impossible dream. And then her dream had been rippedaway from her.

She would never make that mistake again. What had her father toldher? It was all about survival, but why? Surviving only madesense when there was a reason to survive, and she no longer had one. Okay, that wasn’t quite true, there was one; the silent promise she gaveher mother every morning.

No place like home. Nobody who had ever been really involved withthe Centre would be able to have a home in the fullest sense of the word. There was no refuge, not for her, and not for anybody else. The Centrewould never call off the search for Jarod. If he was dead they wouldhave to see his dead body to prove it before they would believe he wasunreachable.

She tuned the thimble in her hand and finally flipped it into the air. She observed it flying up into the air, tuning and over and over again,and then finally going straight down to crash onto the floor. Itmade two abortive attempts to fly again, but succumbed to gravity at last. With a final turn it came to rest in the corner.

The irony was that her life was so like the flight of that thimble. It had taken the same turns and up and down…. But now she too waslying on the hard, cold floor, not moving at all; a dead figure in thegame.

The shrill ringing from her cell phone shocked her out of her dark daydreams. ‘Please, let it be anything but a new lead on Jarod!’ She prayedsilently.

"What?" She demanded, not in the mood for any games.

"Miss Parker?" An unfamiliar female voice asked.

"Who wants to know?" She snapped back.

"I am sorry, Ma’am, this is the Blue Cove Memorial Hospital."

"And what do you want from me? If you want a donation, you shouldknow you get my check every year just before Christmas."

"So you are Miss Parker?" The woman asked, finally becoming irritatedby her continuing abrasiveness. She was accustomed to worried questionsabout what had happened, who was hurt, etc., but never had she been grilledlike this.

"This is Miss Parker’s cell phone, so I think you must have reachedMiss Parker!" She hissed back, losing the last bit of patience shehad left.

The woman on the phone left sorry for the little girl waiting severalrooms down the hall. She would now need all the love she could get,and from her long years doing this job, the hospital social worker knewthat the woman she was speaking to was not going to be able to give thatlittle girl what she needed most. With a deep sigh, that she carefullykept to herself, she pushed her thoughts away, and reminded herself thatshe had a job to do, and that she couldn’t rescue the world.

"We have a little girl here, her name is Debbie Broots. We gotyour number from a necklace she was wearing. It had a pendant witha some phone number to call in the case of an emergency. Your numberis listed first, so I called you first." She told the other womanwith a calm she was far from feeling; still wondering how anybody couldwant this cold-hearted female to be called to watch over a little girl. She knew this kind of woman too well to believe this story would have ahappy ending.

Miss Parker was too shocked to answer right away. Her mind wasreeling. What had happened now? No wonder Broots wasn’t hereat the moment----surely he was with Debbie-----no, wait! She hadsaid her name was listed first, so that meant….

"Where is Debbie’s father?" Miss Parked asked breathlessly, silentlypraying that everything was OK

"I’m not really sure. I think he was delivered to a hospital thatspecializes in treating burns. You may want to contact the localpolice in this case."

"Then at least tell me how Debbie is!" Miss Parker demanded.

"I am sorry I am not allowed to give that kind of information over thephone, but..." The woman stopped after she heard the audible clickof a cell phone being closed, ending the call.

‘Damn bitch!’ She cursed silently, hoping she wouldn’t be therewhen that woman finally showed up. With a last regretful thoughtfor the little girl down the hall, she grabbed the next file and continuedwith her job.

****

Miss Parker was on her way to the B. C. Memorial hospital where Debbiewas. She tried to focus on the road in front of her, tried to keepfrom worrying. It wasn’t working very well.

First she had tried to reach Sydney, but no matter where she tried,he was nowhere to be found. Next she called the local police department,but the only information they would give her was that there had been afire. Nothing more, damn them!

Finally she had managed to find out which hospital Broots had been takento. Since it was closer than B. C. Memorial she had gone there first.

Now she regretted that choice. How the hell was she goingbe able to tell Debbie that she has lost her father?




Ok now I want to know what you think!

Disclaimer: The characters Miss Parker, Sydney, Jarod,Broots etc. and the fictional Centre, are all property of MTM and NBC Productionsand used without permission. I'm not making any money out of this and noinfringement is intended.

The song Total Eclipse Of The Heart belongs to:
- written by Jim Steinman
- #1 hit for Bonnie Tyler in 1983
- as recorded by Bonnie Tyler
*using without persmission! SORRY!*

And Trisha thanks for your teacher instincts !!! Typosetc you still see here are min and only mine, hehehehe



Total Eclipse Of The Heart
part II
by Nicolette




*********

(Turn around)
Every now and then I get a little bit tired of listeningto the sound of my tears

*********

With a final sigh, Miss Parker got out of the car. It was no use tosit there any longer. She hated this feeling. She felt completely helpless,how in the world would she ever be able to face the little girl.

She had been finally able to reach Sydney. He was now on his way overhere, for a brief moment she thought about waiting for him, but she calledherself a coward and fool.

With a final slam, she closed the door of her car The cold air aroundher, made her aware that she was not really dressed for this weather, afterall it was nearly December. The air smelled like snow, as she looked upinto the grey sky, clouds in all shades of grey, rushing to an unknowndestination.

Miss Parker walked over to the entrance of the building; as soon shestepped in, an all too familiar smell, tortured her nostrils. She had reallyspent too much time in hospitals during the last few years. The thoughtof the last time in the hospital made her shoulder ache, again.

Outwardly she was perfectly calm, everybody who looked at her wouldnever have guessed about the feelings inside. Feelings that wanted herto ask for the closest restroom and double over. With every step she took,she built up her wall again, step by step, brick by brick. When she finallyreached the information desk, she was the perfect model of a calm, uncaringwoman.

"My name is Parker. I received a phone call, about 3 hours ago, youhave a patient, her name is Debbie Broots. I want to see her and talk tothe Doctor." Miss Parker told the woman in front of her. She noticed thewoman's friendly smile froze the moment her name passed her lips. For sure,the same one I spoke to on the phone, she thought.

"Ah, yes Miss Parker," the woman behind the counter glanced over tothe woman who was standing there as if she would run the hospital. Shehad been right, simply a cold bitch. Expensive clothes and perfect makeup. She would bet that the outfit would nearly be worth more than she earnedin a whole year of hard work.

She really hated this type of woman. Money the only thing on their minds.No feelings, no emotions, just work and their own pleasure. She could reallynot believe that a father would want his daughter living with somebodylike this. Sure, she would never have the chance to meet this man, neverthelessthere was no reason she could come up with that required leaving a littlegirl with this kind of person.

"I'll call the doctor. He wishes to talk with your first before yousee the little girl," satisfied, she saw the impatient flicker in MissParker’s eyes, somehow she hoped she would lose herself control, but sadlyit was only a flicker, with a disgusted snort. She found no other wordfor this sound, Miss Parker turned away and started to pace.

The woman beeped the doctor, keeping an eye on the tall woman in thehall. Angrily, she observed that she was not alone in watching, every menthere did the same. The way the two male nurses behind her talked aboutthat woman made her not like her more, contrary.

Miss Parker could still feel the gaze of the nurse on her. Another friendfor life. Anyway, she was not here for any small talk. She was concerned,the bad feeling was growing with every passing second. That the doctorwanted to talk with her first was not a good sign.

She knew enough about hospitals and the way they worked to be deeplytroubled. It took every ounce of control not to go back and demandthat the woman should try contacting the doctor again. Her rational mindtold her that she would not gain anything from this, except to upset thenurse even more, not that she really cared, there were to many other thingson her mind now.

For what seemed to be the thousandth time today, she cursed that shehad quit smoking. A good dose of nicotine would be the best thingfor her fluttering nerves. For the first time in months, her stomach washurting like hell, again. Overall, this was a hospital and so she decidedto ask the doctor for a bottle of pepto bismal.

Nothing had changed with time, only the players, but not the game.She was still on the hunt. A hunter hunted by her own nightmares. She couldalmost laugh about it, if it wasn't so damn serious. What pathetic excusefor a life.

Miss Parker turned, just in time to see a middle aged man talking withthe nurse at the counter, after which the woman pointed in her direction.She assumed that this was the doctor she was supposed to talk to. For amoment, all she wanted was to turn and run. Leave the hospital, the Centre,Blue Cove, Delaware, even the USA, to find a spot nobody from this lifewere no one would be able to find her. At the same time, she chideded herselffor being so childish. So far, she had managed everything in her life,this couldn't be any worse, however, the little voice in her head wouldn'tstopped mocking her, teasing her about beening so sure. This time.

She stopped pacing, trying to persuade herself, that she wanted to keepher image up, but the little voice was there again, telling her that shewas just biding time, even the seconds it took for the doctor to reachher.

"Miss Parker," the doctor addressed her, "my name is Doctor Fraser!"He extended his had and flashed her a smile than never reached his eyes.Every word was calculated. Trained for the many conversations, like thisone, that he had to give.

Miss Parker decided to overlook the outstretched hand and the doctorseemed not to mind. His eyes glued on the file, again. After some seconds,he spoke again.

"I am the specialist for these types of injuries... "

Dr. Fraser started to report about Debbie's current condition and thetreatment they had used. But all Miss Parker really heard was *criticalcondition*, *possible brain damage* and *not much hope*.

She wondered why it had never occurred to her, that Debbie could havebeen hurt as seriously as her father. She had marvelled at how she hadworried so on how to tell the girl that she just had lost her father, butnow it seemed that she may never know.

Suddenly, Miss Parker noticed that the doctor had stopped talking andlooked expectantly at her. What had he said last? Yeah, something abouta major fume poisoning, and about revival.

Can I see her now?" Miss Parker asked instead of reacting to his words.

Doctor Fraser looked at the woman, he almost shook his head. Nurse Simonehad been right, a real cold bitch. Beautiful, but still a bitch. He hadtold her that there was a little girl fighting for her life and she lookedat him with her ice blue cold eyes, bored.

He wondered what the little girl had dared to interrupt. For sure thiswoman was not happy that her schedule had been turned upside down. He wasreally surprised that she even asked to see Debbie. He had a hard timeto fight down his urge to yell at her and tell her that if she didn't careshe should just turn and leave, because this attitude she had would dono one any good.

People in coma needed their family and love, more than any medication,especially when, like in this case, the patient was a small child.

For sure he kept his mouth shut, he knew her name and the money thehospital received from her every year one wrong word the director wouldget aware of he would kick his sorry ass so far that he could be thankfulthat he would keep his license.

He pressed his lips together and lead with his hand the way down thecorridor. Soon the stopped in front of a brought door, the doctor turnedthe door knob and let her step into the semi dark room.

Miss Parker looked a the small pale frame on the bed, a strange senseof déjà vu crept up into her mind. Debbie just looked likeFaith. Like a little angel, pale motionless only the beeping sound fromone monitor that indicated her heart beat and the steady raising and fallof her chest gave away that there was any life left.


TBC