Last Requests 
Part 8

Andrea had just laid her head against the pillow when she suddenly made sense of a thought that had been circling in her mind for hours and she sat bolt upright. 

“Jarod,” she began firmly, “I don’t know if you can hear me – although something tells me you can – but if you ever – ever! – watch me in the bath again, I’ll… well, I don’t know what I’ll do, but you won’t like it!”

The walls faintly echoed her voice and then there was silence. Glaring around at the empty room, she lay down again, snuggling into her pillow as her eyes closed. Then she heard the sound of a faint chuckle in her ears, which expanded to a deep rolling laugh that filled her ears and made her skin prickle. It was a sound that she knew she had never heard, but it was familiar, all the same. Her eyes flew open as she propped herself up on her elbow, keeping the covers tucked in firmly around her to stop the cold seeping in, and stared around the room. 

“Jarod?” she called, somewhat hesitantly. 

“Right here,” his voice responded softly in her ear, and she recoiled instantly against the bed. The soft chuckle was once more audible, before his voice spoke again. “First you want to talk to me, then you don’t. Make up your mind, woman.”

She pulled herself into a sitting position and gathered the covers around her. “Are you really here?”

“I always have been,” he assured her warmly. 

Suddenly, the moon slid out from behind a cloud, brightly illuminating the room so that she could clearly see the various pieces of furniture. There was a blurry place on the sofa in the middle of the room, which seemed to solidify, as she stared at it, into the man’s long form reclining on the piece of furniture, his legs stretched out in front of him and his hands in the pockets of his black leather jacket. He looked as he had on Carthis: muscular, strong and full of life. 

“How the…” she gasped, and saw his dark eyes dance as he smiled. 

“You’re asleep, Miss Parker,” he told her. “This seems like the only time you can hear me. I’ve been trying to talk to you all day – for several days, in fact – but you haven’t heard.” He shrugged. “It’s not ideal, but if it lets you hear me, that’s all that matters.”

“But… did you know before – that you could talk to me, I mean?” she demanded, having changed the subject of her question as this occurred to her. 

“I was told, after I died, that I could try talk to you, but that you probably wouldn’t be able to hear me. I’ve been trying anyway, though.”

“Who told you?”

Jarod glanced over his shoulder, and Andrea followed the direction of his gaze, seeing two blue eyes twinkling at her out of the shadowy gloom near the door, which materialized into the beloved figure of her mother. Catherine crossed the room and sat beside her on the bed. Andrea felt the mattress bend and the light touch as Catherine brushed the hair out of her eyes, but there was a sense that she was just out of reach. The younger woman had the idea that, should she try to return her mother’s embraces, the woman would vanish. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jarod rise from the sofa and leave the room. Some part of her knew he was going to see his son.

“Momma,” she murmured, as Catherine bent forward to lightly brush her forehead with her lips.

“Oh, baby,” Catherine whispered, her breath warm against her daughter’s skin. “I’ve missed you so much.”

Andrea leaned into the embrace for a long moment, before suddenly looking up. “Why, Momma? Why can’t I hear you – your voice or Jarod's – except for now?”

Catherine smiled. “You need to learn how to focus, baby. You can’t block out everything else well enough yet. But when you can, then you’ll hear me – us. Ask Ethan, or even your son. Maybe Sydney can teach you the right methods for you to achieve that. It’s not easy,” she admitted. “I had a long time on my own to learn it all, in the sort of solitude where I could focus more easily. You need to find a place where you feel comfortable, so that you can achieve that.”

Andrea nodded, leaning into her mother’s embrace, feeling the woman’s arms tighten around her back. 

“Not much longer,” Catherine whispered. “But we’ll be here all the time, watching you, helping you. Never forget that. All you have to do is ask.”

Nodding again, silently, Andrea felt the woman begin to draw away, before a small voice and a pair of cold feet that wriggled into bed beside her shattered the peace in the room. She sat bolt upright, looking down to find her son snuggling in next to her. 

“Mama,” he greeted her eagerly, with a wide smile, before reaching up to plant a warm kiss on her cheek and hugging her vigorously around the neck. 

She returned the hug almost automatically, sighing inwardly as she realized that she could never be really sure whether the previous conversation was purely imagination, or whether her mother and Jarod had really spoken to her. 

“Mama,” Jason said in expectant tones, and she looked down at him.

“What is it, baby?”

“Daddy commed when I was sleepin’,” he beamed. “He gived me a big hug!”

“Did he?” she murmured. Then the meaning of his words crystallized in her brain and she looked at him sharply. “What do you mean, baby? Did you see him?”

“Uh huh.” The boy nodded vigorously, his brown hair flying. “When I’s asleep, den I can feel him an’ give him hugs an’ stuff. When I’s awake, den I can just hear him.” He dimpled at her. “He said he commed to see you wiv Gramma, too.”

“Yes,” she agreed softly, kissing his round cheek. “I think he did.”

Seeing that it was almost nine o’clock, she got out of bed and chose some clothes before carrying her son into the bathroom. While he played with a toy she had fetched from his room, she slid under the shower and quickly washed herself before drying and dressing. Carrying her son into his room, she changed him into clothes that had come in the bags from the hospital and took him and his teddy into the kitchen. 

She would have to talk to Jarod's mother, and preferably that day. She had to know about the connection that had seemingly allowed Jarod to talk to her that night, and she thought through those parts of the conversations with him and Catherine that she could remember. The most important comment was the suggestion by her mother that she needed to find a place she felt comfortable so that she could learn to listen to the voices inside her. 

When Patrick came into the kitchen, almost an hour later, he found mother and son playing on the floor with several plastic cups and a bowl of water. Jason ran over to hug him as Andrea gathered the objects together and put them into the sink. Then she made him a mug of coffee as he got himself some breakfast and they sat down to talk.

*~*~*~*~*

Tyler lay in bed and stared hard at the ceiling. The Voices were nagging at him, trying to get his attention, but he had finally learned to block them out and could ignore what they were telling him, only listening to his mother’s voice. For the moment, though, she was silent, as if letting the other Voices speak. But he didn’t want to listen to them again. They were what had driven him almost to the point of breaking down. Only the fact that he had found his father, who in turn had brought him to Jarod's mother, who had helped him listen only to Catherine’s voice, had kept him from a complete collapse, or worse. He could never help thinking of that time on the train without wondering if he would have bothered to jump off, had Jarod not been there, or just let himself die when the bomb exploded to finally silence the Voices in his head.

But keeping the Voices away when they were as strong as they had become since Jarod's death was tiring, and he sighed as he threw back the covers. As he was reaching for his robe, he heard the door open and looked over his shoulder to find Kim entering the room. She sat on the bed and looked up at him, her eyes soft and full of understanding, as they had been during the long months of discussions they had had about his gift. 

“Catherine always used to say that, when they get this bad, then maybe it’s time to listen to what they’re telling you,” she suggested quietly.

He sank onto the bed beside her, his shoulders slumped. “But I can’t,” he protested wearily. “You remember what happened last time, when I was doing that.”

“You need to block out those – the ones Raines trained into you – and try to tune in to the others.” She reached out and gently touched his knee. “If it’s really important, you don’t want to miss it.”

‘Yes.’ Catherine’s voice suddenly echoed in his mind, and the other Voices momentarily fell away. Tyler momentarily relaxed his vigil against them, letting his mother’s voice fill his mind. ‘Listen to her, son.’

“But how do I know?” he asked tiredly, unsure whether he was directing the question at Catherine or Kim. “How do I know whether the Voices are saying things I should listen to or not?”

Kim’s arm slid around his shoulders and she moved closer to him. “We realized that those Voices Raines had trained you to hear were saying the same things, over and over, remember? If they’re saying those things, you know not to listen. But if it’s something else…”

“…then I should listen,” he finished, leaning his head, which was starting to ache, against her arm with a sigh. “I’m so tired, though.”

“I know.” Her voice was gentle and soft. “Have a nap now, and we can work on it later.”

He turned hopeful eyes in her direction. “I don’t have to do it alone?”

Kim smiled at her stepson. “Of course not.” She watched him wriggle under the covers and gently drew them over him before sitting down on the bed beside him. “I’ve told you before, you aren’t alone now, and, God willing, you never will be again.”

Tyler nodded drowsily, his eyes closing almost against his will. He felt her lightly kiss his forehead before his eyelids became too heavy and he let them fall.

*~*~*~*~*

Andrea shifted the bag she carried to her other hand and wiped her hand, damp with nervous perspiration, on the blue jeans she had only ever worn once before coming to this place, before reaching out to press the doorbell. After a few seconds, she heard light footsteps approaching the door, which swung open to reveal Jarod's mother. Kim’s expression changed from surprise to slight wariness, which was quickly quashed to polite neutrality as she looked at the younger woman enquiringly.

“Can I help you?” she asked, in the same formally polite tones she had used the night before.

“I… I think I need to talk to you.”

“Think?” Kim raised an eyebrow, her expression very similar to that of her elder son. “You aren’t sure?”

“Well, it… it depends on your answers, whether I needed to talk to you or not.”

The older woman’s still expression relaxed slightly, her eyes suddenly dancing. “I suppose you mean you want me to tell you about your mother.” The corners of her lips lifted. “All right, on the condition that Jason comes in with you.”

Andrea moved aside to reveal the stroller, in front of which she had been standing, hearing her son’s little voice call out “Gamma!” in delighted tones. The two women maneuvered it into the house and the warm living room, with a fire dancing in the grate. Andrea shook the snow off her jacket out the door and then hung it on a convenient hook before coming into the living room and feeling Jason’s hands to check that they were still warm.

“I’m starting to believe I was wrong about you,” Kim said quietly, as she stoked the fire. “When we were talking about this whole scenario at the hospital, Jarod said he was sure you’d be different here from the way you were at the Centre. I’ll confess I was skeptical.”

“I wouldn’t have believed it before I arrived, if anyone had told me the way I’d feel here,” Andrea admitted honestly, feeling that only the absolute truth would persuade the other woman to tell her everything. “But something changed when I found out that the Centre had designed and put into operation something that would kill your son – sons,” she corrected herself. “I used to convince myself that the work people did at that place – even my own work – was beneficial. Jarod's been trying to show me that it wasn’t ever since he escaped, but I think I only really believed it when I saw him at the hospital. And that he could just accept it…”

“I could never understand that, either,” Kim confessed softly, as she picked up the toy Jason had knocked under the sofa and gave it back to him. “But I finally realized that I was making him fight for me, not for himself, and I could see what a struggle it was for him to live during those last few days. And although it hurt to let go, I know I did the right thing. To make him keep living just so I had more time with him would have been as cruel as what the Centre did to him.”

“But he would have understood the difference,” Andrea replied gently. “Jarod had a great ability to understand the smallest differences in motivation.”

“I know.” Kim nodded, blinking away tears. “I learned a lot about my son in the last few days of his life.” She looked at the woman opposite. “He told me a lot about you, too. I suppose now I have to find out whether he was right or not.”

“He probably was,” Andrea smiled. “He knew me better than just about anyone. He even knew what I’d do before I did it, sometimes.”

Kim examined her for a moment before speaking again. “Will you tell me what you did before you left the Centre?”

“Why?” Andrea asked curiously.

The older woman smiled slightly. “Jarod guessed what you’d do after you were brought back to your house from the hospital.”

“And you want to know whether he was right,” the other woman finished for her. She described her actions from the time she was brought home until leaving for this place, occasionally seeing Jarod's mother nod, as if to agree with some act. “So,” she asked finally, with a half-smile, “how’d I do?”

Kim smiled. “Almost perfect.”

Andrea raised an eyebrow. “What did I do wrong?”

“Jarod thought you’d kill Lyle, not Raines.”

“I thought about it,” Andrea was forced to admit. “Ideally, I’d have probably killed both of them, but I doubt I could have gotten away with that. I didn’t care about dying at the time,” she went on, with a sideways glance at her son, who was watching her, “but knowing everything I do now, I’m glad I didn’t just throw my life away. I have too much to live for now.” She watched Jason turn back to his toys, and then a thought suddenly struck her. “I think maybe Jarod hoped, rather than really believed, I’d kill Lyle,” she remarked. “Lyle made many of my working hours, which weren’t that pleasant to begin with, pure hell, but he never really affected my life in the way he did Jarod's. I’m not sure Jarod ever got over Lyle killing Kyle when they’d only just found each other again.”

“Perhaps not,” Kim said softly, turning her gaze to the fire. 

The two women sat in silence for several minutes, broken only by the occasional minor crash and victorious crow from Jason as he knocked over a tower of blocks he had built for the purpose of destroying it, from bricks Andrea had brought with them. 

“What do you think will happen with the Centre, now that Raines is gone?” Kim asked finally, her tones somewhat fearful.

Andrea sighed. “I’ve been trying not to think about it,” she confessed. “I suppose the Triumvirate will put Lyle in the Chairman’s position, unless they think Cox is better suited to it. But I guess whichever isn’t in power will spend most of their time scheming how to get it, in between trying to find all of us.”

Kim was unable to suppress a visible shudder. “If they find us…”

She stopped short, either unable or unwilling to finish the sentence, or, Andrea suspected, a little of both. 

“We’re supposed to be safe here,” the younger woman put in, trying to inject certainty into her voice. “From what I’ve seen, the security people are keeping a pretty close eye on the Centre and everything it’s doing. That will at least give us some warning.”

“That’s better than nothing, I suppose,” Kim said softly. “And better than we’ve had for the past forty years.”

“I was just doing my job,” Andrea murmured, and the other woman glanced at her apologetically.

“I know. And I know what happens to people who don’t do what the Centre wants them to. I’m just glad that you don’t feel like that any longer.” She shook herself and then smiled in the brunette’s direction. “But that wasn’t what you came here to talk about today. You want to know about your mother …”