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Sydney winced in surprise, dropping his pencil and reaching over to snatch the ringing phone from ist cradle, lifting it to his ear. "This is Sydney," he said softly. He heard sniffling from the other line, before a soft, strained voice met his ear.
"Sydney…" she whispered. "This is Michelle."
"Michelle?" Sydney murmured. "What’s wrong?"
"I have..." her voice broke, and she sobbed. "I have terrible news."
"What is it?"
"It’s Nicholas. He was... he was k-killed yesterday."
Sydney froze, his eyes growing wide. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the phone, his gaze staring off into shock, waiting for her to continue.
"There was a bomb that a Militia group had planted in one of the buildings. Nicholas and another man had gotten all the teachers and students out, but... N-Nicholas went back in."
"For what? Why?" Sydney exclaimed, bringing a shaky hand up to his forehead.
"God only knows," she sobbed. The line was silent for a moment, before Sydney found his voice again.
"My god, Michelle...I’m so sorry..." Sydney whispered, his eyes filling with tears.
"The funeral is on Wednesday," she began again, taking a shaky sigh.
"I’ll be there," Sydney declared, keeping his voice even. But when he slowly set the phone back down to its cradle, the burning tears won, and Sydney wept for his son, folding his head in his arms and cried at his desk.
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He watched the pedal of the red rose flicker in the wind, the redness of the flower shimmering in the bright sun of the Wednesday afternoon, laying on top of the shiny black coffin.
God, life can change in a blink of an eye, can’t it? No matter how tightly you grip your life, it can easily slip through your fingers.
Sydney closed his eyes briefly, looking away from the painful scene to look over at his beloved. She stood beside him, her eyes filled with unshed tears as she stared over at her son’s coffin, covered in flowers of all kinds. Many people crowed around, most of their faces covered in tears, but not one face did Sydney recognize, feeling the little bit of guilt for that.
As the priest slowly closed his book, he bowed his head, turning and walking away quietly, allowing family and friends to grieve one last time as the closed coffin slowly lowered into the ground.
Michelle squeezed Sydney’s hand, wiping her eyes as she turned and walked off towards her car, leaving Sydney still standing there, staring off at the son he barely knew, wishing to god that he had knew, disappearing into the ground.
Finally, when Sydney looked away, he realized he was the only one standing there now, everyone already gone. Sighing shakily, Sydney looked around, before looking back down at the tombstone, the ground around it freshly filled.
"Sydney..." he heard someone whisper from behind.
Sydney turned around, seeing Jarod standing a couple feet away, his brown eyes filled with sorrow and concern. Sydney watched as the younger man walked up to his side, staring down at the tombstone before looking directly at the older man.
"I’m sorry, Sydney," Jarod whispered, his eyes pleading. "I am so very sorry."
Sydney stared at him for a moment, his eyes never wavering from Jarod’s face. "You were the other man, weren’t you?" he asked simply.
Jarod swallowed, inhaling sharply. "I tried to stop him, but Nicholas went in anyway."
Sydney took a shaky step back, his eyes growing a little wider as he stared at the pretender. There was silence between the two, Jarod’s pleading eyes staring deep into the other man’s, begging for his forgiveness, but, Sydney remained silent.
"Please..." Jarod whispered. "I’m sorry, Sydney."
Sydney licked his lips, feeling the first bit of burning anger and betrayal inside him. "Next time," Sydney began, his voice uneven with anger. "You want to *pretend*, you keep my family out of it," Sydney snapped cruelly at him, pushing past him towards his car. Jarod stared after the older man, quivering in sadness as he drove away.
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Miss Parker looked up from her paperwork, realizing sadly that Sydney was staring off into space once again, his pencil still in his fingers. Getting up from the small desk that was located in the corner of his office, she slowly approached him, standing in front of his desk for a moment until finally the older man blinked and looked up at her.
"Are you all right, Sydney?" she asked, softly.
"No," Sydney replied, honestly. "I’m not." Getting up from his desk, he walked towards the door, not looking back as he walked out. Passing Broots in the hall, the balding tech watched his receding back for a moment, before entering the office.
"He still is...?"
Miss Parker nodded, sighing and turning back to her paperwork, shuffling it all into her briefcase. "He won’t talk to me. And when I mention Jarod or the project, he’ll change the subject."
"What exactly happened?"
Miss Parker looked up at him in surprise. "Sydney’s son was killed!"
"I know that," Broots said, looking around nervously. "But I mean... how?"
Miss Parker shook her head, piercing her lips in thought. "He was killed by a bomb explosion. Why? I don’t know."
"Do you think the Centre..."
"Possibly."
"Should I search..."
"Of course."
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Jarod paced the small area of his apartment complex, stopping only to cast a brief look at the phone. He should call him, beg... plead for forgiveness. It wasn’t his fault, and Sydney should know that, he has to know that.
Walking over to the nightstand, Jarod picked the cell phone up, snapping it open and pushing speed dial. As he listened to the ringing on the other end, Jarod found himself shaking again, not sure why.
"This is Sydney," a wary voice came from the other line, and at first, Jarod wasn’t sure if it was his mentor.
"Sydney, listen to me-" *Click*. "Sydney?"
Jarod pulled the phone from his ear, looking at it in confusion. He hung up. Jarod swallowed, setting the phone shakily back down, staring at it for a moment. Biting the inside of his cheek, Jarod wrapped his arms around his torso, heaving a sigh.
The last thing he ever wanted was the one person he could trust be mad at him for something he had no control over... or did he?
Jarod felt the heavy guilt that was inside him for so long rise a notch, his body beginning to quake with emotions. Curling on the small bed by the nightstand, Jarod lied there, staring off towards the opposite wall in thought.
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Sydney stared at the phone for the longest time, unsure what had come over him. At that moment when he heard Jarod’s voice, his first thought was to hang up on him, and that’s what he did, snapping the phone shut cruelly before the younger man could get another word out. Now, Sydney was unsure that he did the right thing. Jarod would never kill his son on purpose... would he?
Sydney blinked. That was the first time Sydney has ever questioned Jarod. He knew Jarod would never do something like that. Jarod doesn’t have it in him. But, the man can pretend... and jealousy is a strong factor in life. Maybe Jarod wants that family so bad, he’ll kill whoever to get it.
Sydney shook his head. Being a psychologist, he knew that he was trying to put some blame on someone for the death of his son, to rid the sorrow, and to replace it by anger, but... why Jarod? Jarod was like his son. Jarod would never do that!
"Damn it," Sydney cursed, throwing his phone across the room, watching as it gave a mighty slap against the opposite wall. Sydney straightened in his chair with surprise, unsure where the sudden outbreak came from. Rubbing his eyes, he sighed. Confusion and anger was the only thing that he felt these days after he heard the news.
"Sydney?" he heard a small voice ask carefully.
Looking up, Sydney lifted his eyebrows at the tech. "What Broots?" he snapped, wincing inside when he realized he sounded like Parker.
"Ah..." the man stuttered, taking a small step back. "I came to tell you that we got a lead on Jarod. Miss Parker is all ready."
Sydney sighed heavily, getting up from his desk and walking out of the office without another word, Broots following close behind.
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Sydney and Broots watched silently as Miss Parker bitched at the front desk clerk, the small man blinking in surprise as the tall brunette cursed and shouted at the man for not allowing them to go up to check out Jarod’s hotel room. Finally, enough was enough, and Miss Parker narrowed her blue eyes at the man, spinning on her heel as she made her way out of the small hotel complex. Reaching outside, she turned towards the two men.
"Let’s stay here. I have a feeling Jarod is still around," she said, looking around, the street dark with night. "Let’s grab a hotel room near by, shall we?"
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Sydney looked around the small room that he had gotten for himself. Walking over to the bed, he sat down with a sigh, rubbing a warily hand over his tired face.
"We need to talk," he heard a voice say.
Sydney leaped to his feet, turning around towards the voice. When he spotted him, he relaxed, clenching fists at his sides. "No we don’t, Jarod."
Jarod’s face softened, he stepping forward slightly. "Do you think I killed Nicholas on purpose?"
Sydney remained silent, watching the pretender before him struggle with his composure. Half of himself told him to stop blaming the younger man, but the other half screamed for justice that he knew his son deserved.
"Sydney... You know I would never do that!" Jarod said in astonishment, taking another step towards him.
"You knew there was a bomb, Jarod!" Sydney shouted, and Jarod winced. "You could have stopped him! Held him back... you probably didn’t even try!"
"Sydney-" Jarod whispered, his voice quivering.
"You think you can right every wrong in life, don’t you? You think you just some little smart-ass hero, huh?" Sydney said, pointing an accusing finger at him. Jarod stepped back, watching in fear as fire flashed in his mentor’s tired eyes. "But, when it comes to my son, that’s the one time you screw up... or you make it look like that!"
"How can you say that?" Jarod yelled, finally, whipping Sydney’s pointing hand away. "I tried Sydney! But your *son* had to go back in to get his *stupid* bag!"
Sydney’s eyes grew wide, curling his right hand into a tight fist and throwing it at Jarod. Jarod flew backwards, his back hitting the wall hard from impact. His eyes still closed, Jarod stood there, quivering, his left cheek burning like fire from Sydney’s nasty right hook. When he slowly opened his eyes, he found his mentor staring at him, his face holding anger and surprise.
Sydney opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out, watching as Jarod pushed off from the wall and started off towards the door. But Sydney grabbed Jarod’s arm and spun him around roughly.
"We aren’t through yet," Sydney spat out quietly.
Jarod didn’t meet his eyes, looking down at the tight grip the older man had on his left forearm. "You made it clear that we are," Jarod whispered.
Sydney ignored him. "If you ever call my son stupid again, I swear to you-"
"I didn’t!" Jarod said, his brown eyes finally meeting Sydney’s. There was silence, and Sydney loosened his grip on Jarod’s arm a little. Jarod took a shaky sigh. "I tried," Jarod whispered. "I tried, Sydney, god damn it, I tried. But Nicholas told me that there was something important that he needed. Maybe I should have held him back, but the way he looked at me, pleaded with me, I knew that that something was very important."
"Important enough to kill him?" Sydney said, his voice strained. Jarod winced when his grip tightened.
"I don’t know. I didn’t know when the bomb was going to go off... until... it went off."
"But you knew there was a bomb!" Sydney said, reaching out and grabbing Jarod’s other arm, shaking him. "You knew, and you didn’t stop him!"
"You don’t think I have enough guilt already, Sydney?" Jarod shouted at him, trying to rip himself out of the older man’s grip, but was unsuccessful. "You think I am that jealous of you and your son?" Sydney stared at him, his jaw set, before he slowly nodded. Jarod’s eyes grew wide, again trying to rip out of the older man’s tight grip. "Let go of me, damn you!" Jarod shouted.
"Or you’ll what?" Sydney said, struggling to keep his grip. "Send me into a exploding building as well?"
Jarod stopped struggling, hanging his head in defeat and fighting the tears and anger back. How could he think this? "I thought you cared for me like a son," Jarod whispered ever so softly.
"I thought so too," Sydney replied, tugging on his arms to make him look up. "Until you killed my *real* son."
"Oh god, Sydney," Jarod sobbed, dropping to his knees, Sydney still not loosing his grip. "Please... don’t do this! I didn’t kill him!"
"Maybe not... but you sure, god damned, helped!" Sydney said, watching Jarod shiver. "Michelle told me that the ‘other man’ convinced Nicholas to help him. *You* convinced him to help you take down the Militia group. A perfect set-up for my son, huh?"
Jarod was silent, slowly looking up at the older man with narrowed brown eyes. Enough was enough. "You are such a bastard!" Jarod screamed at him, struggling to get to his feet. "If you want someone to blame then fine! Blame me! I know in my heart that I did *nothing* wrong! But if you are so god damn sure, then fine, I fucking killed your son!"
Sydney swung Jarod onto the floor, the younger man grunting in pain as he landed on the carpet with a thud. Lying there, Jarod gritted his teeth against the pain as the older man kicked him twice in the ribs, allowing him to take his anger out on him, knowing he needed it, before there was silence. Jarod gasped for air, as he listened to the soft footsteps, walking around the room, before returning. When looking up, Jarod met the sight of the hotel’s phone swinging down on him, before blackness.
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Lifting his hands out before him, he watched as they shook violently. Sighing, he leaned his head back on the side of the bed, casting a brief look over at Jarod’s unconscious form, lying lifeless on the floor, his left cheek already showing the bruise, and the small gash on his temple where Sydney had hit him with the telephone.
Sydney looked away quickly, his heart heavy with guilt. It was like he was trapped in someone else’s body, watching from the inside as the person said things he would never dream to say. He couldn’t control himself. The anger for the death of his son and the confusion about what the truth was behind his death was so overwhelming. And Jarod was the closest one he could get his hands on to blame.
*I thought you cared for me like a son*, Jarod’s words echoed through his head, and Sydney winced, taking a shaky sigh and closing his eyes. I do, goddamn it, I do Jarod, and I am so sorry.
The moment the phone made contact with Jarod’s skull, there was something inside Sydney that had snapped, the logic side of his brain telling him what he had done. It was like waking up from a nightmare, the silence in the room speaking volumes to justify his pervious actions.
"Damn it," Sydney whispered, looking over at Jarod again.
When a parent looses a child, it’s like they lost a part of themselves, and Sydney felt like he just had lost two. His two most important halves. He was sad, angry and not complete.
Slowly climbing off the floor from where he leaned against the bed, Sydney heaved a sigh, slowly making his way towards the bathroom. Closing the door behind him, Sydney caught his reflection in the mirror and swallowed. He looked terrible. His graying hair was on end, his cheeks flushed and his eyes... his eyes drooped, their depths holding sorrow, fear and madness all in one. Looking away, he closed his eyes, breathing carefully as he calmed himself. What have I done?
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Consciousness washed over him whether he liked it or not. Slowly sitting up, Jarod groaned, lifting a hand up to feel the gash on his temple, wincing when his finger brushed it. Looking around briefly, Jarod slowly climbed to his feet, dizzy and disoriented. Gathering his composure, Jarod slowly made his way towards the door, but when he reached for the handle, he heard the bathroom door open, freezing.
There was silence, Jarod not bothering to turn around to know he was standing there, just inside the bathroom door, staring at him. Probably wanted to finish beating him, and blaming him. Shivering, Jarod closed his eyes, waiting for any movements or sounds.
"I’m sorry." There it was, quiet and simple. Jarod straightened a little, slowly turning to face him, his brown eyes still pleading.
"Me too," Jarod whispered in response.
"I didn’t mean to hurt you..." Sydney began, his eyes filling with tears.
"You don’t need to say this," Jarod whispered looking down to the floor.
"But I need to," Sydney whispered, watching as Jarod met his gaze. "I lost a child, Jarod. The worst thing a parent can go through." Jarod nodded his understanding, remaining silent as the older man went on. "When I heard what had happened, I wanted justice for my son. I wanted the one responsible to pay." Jarod looked away. "But since I couldn’t do that, I turned to the next one in line instead. I’m sorry, Jarod. It isn’t your fault. It was his choice to help you. It was his choice to go back in. I’m sorry I blamed you."
Jarod nodded, swallowing back his own tears. "Where do we go from here?"
Sydney shook his head softly, crossing the room to stand beside Jarod. Carefully, Sydney wrapped his arms around Jarod, hugging him tightly, unable to hold back the sob that escaped his lips. "I don’t want to loose both of you."
Jarod returned the hug, smiling sadly when he heard the older man whisper that. "You haven’t," Jarod whispered back, relief flowing though him like a river.
"Would you go with me to visit him?" Sydney whispered, leaning back a little to see Jarod’s face.
"Of course," Jarod answered, watching as the small smile spread out on Sydney’s face, before the older man hugged him in a firm embrace once again.
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Jarod watched as Sydney stood silently, staring down at the tombstone. Jarod pressed his right hand against his side, his ribs hurting like hell, but knowing he would never admit out loud. He knew his mentor didn’t mean it, and he didn’t want to place more guilt on him. And besides, it wasn’t the right time.
"The Centre has a way of making you end up in a cemetery, huh?" Jarod whispered, watching as Sydney blinked and looked over at him.
"Yeah," Sydney replied quietly. There was a pause of silence, before Sydney looked back towards the grave. "So, the Centre *did* have something to do with it," he said softly, still staring at his son’s tombstone.
"They own the militia group," Jarod replied, watching as Sydney’s shoulders tensed. "Sydney... Nicholas had retrieved some papers..." Sydney looked over at him, waiting for him to continue. "Some documents that held some pretty powerful secrets. He was planning to take down the militia group... taking down the Centre as well."
"The bag," Sydney stated simply, staring intensely at the younger man.
Jarod nodded. "He found out what they do at the Centre. I didn’t know he actually got them, until it was too late. The bag held those documents, and Nicholas was so desperate to save them."
"The Centre found out... They had to terminate him, otherwise they would have gone down," Sydney said slowly, staring off in thought.
"Your son was trying to destroy the Centre, but instead, the Centre destroyed him. It was just Centre’s good fortune that Nicholas was killed in the explosion, along with the papers."
Sydney closed his eyes, shaking his head sadly. "Damn it." Opening his eyes, he looked at Jarod in concern. "I’m sorry."
Jarod blinked, confused of the change of subject. "For what?" he asked.
"For everything. I didn’t mean to place guilt on you."
Jarod shook his head, looking down to the ground. "It’s forgotten."
"See a doctor, Jarod," Sydney said softly, walking up to him and placing a hand over Jarod’s that held his side.
"I will fix myself up soon enough, don’t worry," Jarod said softly, looking up at Sydney and smiling sadly.
Sydney nodded, but his eyes still held fatherly concern. "Take a break from this cat and mouse game. Give yourself time to heal. For me, please."
Jarod stared at him for a moment, before nodding, flashing him a smile. Jarod reached out a hand, and Sydney took it, gently shaking it. "Good bye, Syd."
"Bye, Jarod," Sydney said softly, watching as his son he never had turn and walk away. Sighing, Sydney looked down at the tombstone and nodded proudly. "Bye, Nicholas," he said softly, before he too walked away.
"Sydney…" she whispered. "This is Michelle."
"Michelle?" Sydney murmured. "What’s wrong?"
"I have..." her voice broke, and she sobbed. "I have terrible news."
"What is it?"
"It’s Nicholas. He was... he was k-killed yesterday."
Sydney froze, his eyes growing wide. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the phone, his gaze staring off into shock, waiting for her to continue.
"There was a bomb that a Militia group had planted in one of the buildings. Nicholas and another man had gotten all the teachers and students out, but... N-Nicholas went back in."
"For what? Why?" Sydney exclaimed, bringing a shaky hand up to his forehead.
"God only knows," she sobbed. The line was silent for a moment, before Sydney found his voice again.
"My god, Michelle...I’m so sorry..." Sydney whispered, his eyes filling with tears.
"The funeral is on Wednesday," she began again, taking a shaky sigh.
"I’ll be there," Sydney declared, keeping his voice even. But when he slowly set the phone back down to its cradle, the burning tears won, and Sydney wept for his son, folding his head in his arms and cried at his desk.
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He watched the pedal of the red rose flicker in the wind, the redness of the flower shimmering in the bright sun of the Wednesday afternoon, laying on top of the shiny black coffin.
God, life can change in a blink of an eye, can’t it? No matter how tightly you grip your life, it can easily slip through your fingers.
Sydney closed his eyes briefly, looking away from the painful scene to look over at his beloved. She stood beside him, her eyes filled with unshed tears as she stared over at her son’s coffin, covered in flowers of all kinds. Many people crowed around, most of their faces covered in tears, but not one face did Sydney recognize, feeling the little bit of guilt for that.
As the priest slowly closed his book, he bowed his head, turning and walking away quietly, allowing family and friends to grieve one last time as the closed coffin slowly lowered into the ground.
Michelle squeezed Sydney’s hand, wiping her eyes as she turned and walked off towards her car, leaving Sydney still standing there, staring off at the son he barely knew, wishing to god that he had knew, disappearing into the ground.
Finally, when Sydney looked away, he realized he was the only one standing there now, everyone already gone. Sighing shakily, Sydney looked around, before looking back down at the tombstone, the ground around it freshly filled.
"Sydney..." he heard someone whisper from behind.
Sydney turned around, seeing Jarod standing a couple feet away, his brown eyes filled with sorrow and concern. Sydney watched as the younger man walked up to his side, staring down at the tombstone before looking directly at the older man.
"I’m sorry, Sydney," Jarod whispered, his eyes pleading. "I am so very sorry."
Sydney stared at him for a moment, his eyes never wavering from Jarod’s face. "You were the other man, weren’t you?" he asked simply.
Jarod swallowed, inhaling sharply. "I tried to stop him, but Nicholas went in anyway."
Sydney took a shaky step back, his eyes growing a little wider as he stared at the pretender. There was silence between the two, Jarod’s pleading eyes staring deep into the other man’s, begging for his forgiveness, but, Sydney remained silent.
"Please..." Jarod whispered. "I’m sorry, Sydney."
Sydney licked his lips, feeling the first bit of burning anger and betrayal inside him. "Next time," Sydney began, his voice uneven with anger. "You want to *pretend*, you keep my family out of it," Sydney snapped cruelly at him, pushing past him towards his car. Jarod stared after the older man, quivering in sadness as he drove away.
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Miss Parker looked up from her paperwork, realizing sadly that Sydney was staring off into space once again, his pencil still in his fingers. Getting up from the small desk that was located in the corner of his office, she slowly approached him, standing in front of his desk for a moment until finally the older man blinked and looked up at her.
"Are you all right, Sydney?" she asked, softly.
"No," Sydney replied, honestly. "I’m not." Getting up from his desk, he walked towards the door, not looking back as he walked out. Passing Broots in the hall, the balding tech watched his receding back for a moment, before entering the office.
"He still is...?"
Miss Parker nodded, sighing and turning back to her paperwork, shuffling it all into her briefcase. "He won’t talk to me. And when I mention Jarod or the project, he’ll change the subject."
"What exactly happened?"
Miss Parker looked up at him in surprise. "Sydney’s son was killed!"
"I know that," Broots said, looking around nervously. "But I mean... how?"
Miss Parker shook her head, piercing her lips in thought. "He was killed by a bomb explosion. Why? I don’t know."
"Do you think the Centre..."
"Possibly."
"Should I search..."
"Of course."
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Jarod paced the small area of his apartment complex, stopping only to cast a brief look at the phone. He should call him, beg... plead for forgiveness. It wasn’t his fault, and Sydney should know that, he has to know that.
Walking over to the nightstand, Jarod picked the cell phone up, snapping it open and pushing speed dial. As he listened to the ringing on the other end, Jarod found himself shaking again, not sure why.
"This is Sydney," a wary voice came from the other line, and at first, Jarod wasn’t sure if it was his mentor.
"Sydney, listen to me-" *Click*. "Sydney?"
Jarod pulled the phone from his ear, looking at it in confusion. He hung up. Jarod swallowed, setting the phone shakily back down, staring at it for a moment. Biting the inside of his cheek, Jarod wrapped his arms around his torso, heaving a sigh.
The last thing he ever wanted was the one person he could trust be mad at him for something he had no control over... or did he?
Jarod felt the heavy guilt that was inside him for so long rise a notch, his body beginning to quake with emotions. Curling on the small bed by the nightstand, Jarod lied there, staring off towards the opposite wall in thought.
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Sydney stared at the phone for the longest time, unsure what had come over him. At that moment when he heard Jarod’s voice, his first thought was to hang up on him, and that’s what he did, snapping the phone shut cruelly before the younger man could get another word out. Now, Sydney was unsure that he did the right thing. Jarod would never kill his son on purpose... would he?
Sydney blinked. That was the first time Sydney has ever questioned Jarod. He knew Jarod would never do something like that. Jarod doesn’t have it in him. But, the man can pretend... and jealousy is a strong factor in life. Maybe Jarod wants that family so bad, he’ll kill whoever to get it.
Sydney shook his head. Being a psychologist, he knew that he was trying to put some blame on someone for the death of his son, to rid the sorrow, and to replace it by anger, but... why Jarod? Jarod was like his son. Jarod would never do that!
"Damn it," Sydney cursed, throwing his phone across the room, watching as it gave a mighty slap against the opposite wall. Sydney straightened in his chair with surprise, unsure where the sudden outbreak came from. Rubbing his eyes, he sighed. Confusion and anger was the only thing that he felt these days after he heard the news.
"Sydney?" he heard a small voice ask carefully.
Looking up, Sydney lifted his eyebrows at the tech. "What Broots?" he snapped, wincing inside when he realized he sounded like Parker.
"Ah..." the man stuttered, taking a small step back. "I came to tell you that we got a lead on Jarod. Miss Parker is all ready."
Sydney sighed heavily, getting up from his desk and walking out of the office without another word, Broots following close behind.
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Sydney and Broots watched silently as Miss Parker bitched at the front desk clerk, the small man blinking in surprise as the tall brunette cursed and shouted at the man for not allowing them to go up to check out Jarod’s hotel room. Finally, enough was enough, and Miss Parker narrowed her blue eyes at the man, spinning on her heel as she made her way out of the small hotel complex. Reaching outside, she turned towards the two men.
"Let’s stay here. I have a feeling Jarod is still around," she said, looking around, the street dark with night. "Let’s grab a hotel room near by, shall we?"
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Sydney looked around the small room that he had gotten for himself. Walking over to the bed, he sat down with a sigh, rubbing a warily hand over his tired face.
"We need to talk," he heard a voice say.
Sydney leaped to his feet, turning around towards the voice. When he spotted him, he relaxed, clenching fists at his sides. "No we don’t, Jarod."
Jarod’s face softened, he stepping forward slightly. "Do you think I killed Nicholas on purpose?"
Sydney remained silent, watching the pretender before him struggle with his composure. Half of himself told him to stop blaming the younger man, but the other half screamed for justice that he knew his son deserved.
"Sydney... You know I would never do that!" Jarod said in astonishment, taking another step towards him.
"You knew there was a bomb, Jarod!" Sydney shouted, and Jarod winced. "You could have stopped him! Held him back... you probably didn’t even try!"
"Sydney-" Jarod whispered, his voice quivering.
"You think you can right every wrong in life, don’t you? You think you just some little smart-ass hero, huh?" Sydney said, pointing an accusing finger at him. Jarod stepped back, watching in fear as fire flashed in his mentor’s tired eyes. "But, when it comes to my son, that’s the one time you screw up... or you make it look like that!"
"How can you say that?" Jarod yelled, finally, whipping Sydney’s pointing hand away. "I tried Sydney! But your *son* had to go back in to get his *stupid* bag!"
Sydney’s eyes grew wide, curling his right hand into a tight fist and throwing it at Jarod. Jarod flew backwards, his back hitting the wall hard from impact. His eyes still closed, Jarod stood there, quivering, his left cheek burning like fire from Sydney’s nasty right hook. When he slowly opened his eyes, he found his mentor staring at him, his face holding anger and surprise.
Sydney opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out, watching as Jarod pushed off from the wall and started off towards the door. But Sydney grabbed Jarod’s arm and spun him around roughly.
"We aren’t through yet," Sydney spat out quietly.
Jarod didn’t meet his eyes, looking down at the tight grip the older man had on his left forearm. "You made it clear that we are," Jarod whispered.
Sydney ignored him. "If you ever call my son stupid again, I swear to you-"
"I didn’t!" Jarod said, his brown eyes finally meeting Sydney’s. There was silence, and Sydney loosened his grip on Jarod’s arm a little. Jarod took a shaky sigh. "I tried," Jarod whispered. "I tried, Sydney, god damn it, I tried. But Nicholas told me that there was something important that he needed. Maybe I should have held him back, but the way he looked at me, pleaded with me, I knew that that something was very important."
"Important enough to kill him?" Sydney said, his voice strained. Jarod winced when his grip tightened.
"I don’t know. I didn’t know when the bomb was going to go off... until... it went off."
"But you knew there was a bomb!" Sydney said, reaching out and grabbing Jarod’s other arm, shaking him. "You knew, and you didn’t stop him!"
"You don’t think I have enough guilt already, Sydney?" Jarod shouted at him, trying to rip himself out of the older man’s grip, but was unsuccessful. "You think I am that jealous of you and your son?" Sydney stared at him, his jaw set, before he slowly nodded. Jarod’s eyes grew wide, again trying to rip out of the older man’s tight grip. "Let go of me, damn you!" Jarod shouted.
"Or you’ll what?" Sydney said, struggling to keep his grip. "Send me into a exploding building as well?"
Jarod stopped struggling, hanging his head in defeat and fighting the tears and anger back. How could he think this? "I thought you cared for me like a son," Jarod whispered ever so softly.
"I thought so too," Sydney replied, tugging on his arms to make him look up. "Until you killed my *real* son."
"Oh god, Sydney," Jarod sobbed, dropping to his knees, Sydney still not loosing his grip. "Please... don’t do this! I didn’t kill him!"
"Maybe not... but you sure, god damned, helped!" Sydney said, watching Jarod shiver. "Michelle told me that the ‘other man’ convinced Nicholas to help him. *You* convinced him to help you take down the Militia group. A perfect set-up for my son, huh?"
Jarod was silent, slowly looking up at the older man with narrowed brown eyes. Enough was enough. "You are such a bastard!" Jarod screamed at him, struggling to get to his feet. "If you want someone to blame then fine! Blame me! I know in my heart that I did *nothing* wrong! But if you are so god damn sure, then fine, I fucking killed your son!"
Sydney swung Jarod onto the floor, the younger man grunting in pain as he landed on the carpet with a thud. Lying there, Jarod gritted his teeth against the pain as the older man kicked him twice in the ribs, allowing him to take his anger out on him, knowing he needed it, before there was silence. Jarod gasped for air, as he listened to the soft footsteps, walking around the room, before returning. When looking up, Jarod met the sight of the hotel’s phone swinging down on him, before blackness.
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Lifting his hands out before him, he watched as they shook violently. Sighing, he leaned his head back on the side of the bed, casting a brief look over at Jarod’s unconscious form, lying lifeless on the floor, his left cheek already showing the bruise, and the small gash on his temple where Sydney had hit him with the telephone.
Sydney looked away quickly, his heart heavy with guilt. It was like he was trapped in someone else’s body, watching from the inside as the person said things he would never dream to say. He couldn’t control himself. The anger for the death of his son and the confusion about what the truth was behind his death was so overwhelming. And Jarod was the closest one he could get his hands on to blame.
*I thought you cared for me like a son*, Jarod’s words echoed through his head, and Sydney winced, taking a shaky sigh and closing his eyes. I do, goddamn it, I do Jarod, and I am so sorry.
The moment the phone made contact with Jarod’s skull, there was something inside Sydney that had snapped, the logic side of his brain telling him what he had done. It was like waking up from a nightmare, the silence in the room speaking volumes to justify his pervious actions.
"Damn it," Sydney whispered, looking over at Jarod again.
When a parent looses a child, it’s like they lost a part of themselves, and Sydney felt like he just had lost two. His two most important halves. He was sad, angry and not complete.
Slowly climbing off the floor from where he leaned against the bed, Sydney heaved a sigh, slowly making his way towards the bathroom. Closing the door behind him, Sydney caught his reflection in the mirror and swallowed. He looked terrible. His graying hair was on end, his cheeks flushed and his eyes... his eyes drooped, their depths holding sorrow, fear and madness all in one. Looking away, he closed his eyes, breathing carefully as he calmed himself. What have I done?
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Consciousness washed over him whether he liked it or not. Slowly sitting up, Jarod groaned, lifting a hand up to feel the gash on his temple, wincing when his finger brushed it. Looking around briefly, Jarod slowly climbed to his feet, dizzy and disoriented. Gathering his composure, Jarod slowly made his way towards the door, but when he reached for the handle, he heard the bathroom door open, freezing.
There was silence, Jarod not bothering to turn around to know he was standing there, just inside the bathroom door, staring at him. Probably wanted to finish beating him, and blaming him. Shivering, Jarod closed his eyes, waiting for any movements or sounds.
"I’m sorry." There it was, quiet and simple. Jarod straightened a little, slowly turning to face him, his brown eyes still pleading.
"Me too," Jarod whispered in response.
"I didn’t mean to hurt you..." Sydney began, his eyes filling with tears.
"You don’t need to say this," Jarod whispered looking down to the floor.
"But I need to," Sydney whispered, watching as Jarod met his gaze. "I lost a child, Jarod. The worst thing a parent can go through." Jarod nodded his understanding, remaining silent as the older man went on. "When I heard what had happened, I wanted justice for my son. I wanted the one responsible to pay." Jarod looked away. "But since I couldn’t do that, I turned to the next one in line instead. I’m sorry, Jarod. It isn’t your fault. It was his choice to help you. It was his choice to go back in. I’m sorry I blamed you."
Jarod nodded, swallowing back his own tears. "Where do we go from here?"
Sydney shook his head softly, crossing the room to stand beside Jarod. Carefully, Sydney wrapped his arms around Jarod, hugging him tightly, unable to hold back the sob that escaped his lips. "I don’t want to loose both of you."
Jarod returned the hug, smiling sadly when he heard the older man whisper that. "You haven’t," Jarod whispered back, relief flowing though him like a river.
"Would you go with me to visit him?" Sydney whispered, leaning back a little to see Jarod’s face.
"Of course," Jarod answered, watching as the small smile spread out on Sydney’s face, before the older man hugged him in a firm embrace once again.
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Jarod watched as Sydney stood silently, staring down at the tombstone. Jarod pressed his right hand against his side, his ribs hurting like hell, but knowing he would never admit out loud. He knew his mentor didn’t mean it, and he didn’t want to place more guilt on him. And besides, it wasn’t the right time.
"The Centre has a way of making you end up in a cemetery, huh?" Jarod whispered, watching as Sydney blinked and looked over at him.
"Yeah," Sydney replied quietly. There was a pause of silence, before Sydney looked back towards the grave. "So, the Centre *did* have something to do with it," he said softly, still staring at his son’s tombstone.
"They own the militia group," Jarod replied, watching as Sydney’s shoulders tensed. "Sydney... Nicholas had retrieved some papers..." Sydney looked over at him, waiting for him to continue. "Some documents that held some pretty powerful secrets. He was planning to take down the militia group... taking down the Centre as well."
"The bag," Sydney stated simply, staring intensely at the younger man.
Jarod nodded. "He found out what they do at the Centre. I didn’t know he actually got them, until it was too late. The bag held those documents, and Nicholas was so desperate to save them."
"The Centre found out... They had to terminate him, otherwise they would have gone down," Sydney said slowly, staring off in thought.
"Your son was trying to destroy the Centre, but instead, the Centre destroyed him. It was just Centre’s good fortune that Nicholas was killed in the explosion, along with the papers."
Sydney closed his eyes, shaking his head sadly. "Damn it." Opening his eyes, he looked at Jarod in concern. "I’m sorry."
Jarod blinked, confused of the change of subject. "For what?" he asked.
"For everything. I didn’t mean to place guilt on you."
Jarod shook his head, looking down to the ground. "It’s forgotten."
"See a doctor, Jarod," Sydney said softly, walking up to him and placing a hand over Jarod’s that held his side.
"I will fix myself up soon enough, don’t worry," Jarod said softly, looking up at Sydney and smiling sadly.
Sydney nodded, but his eyes still held fatherly concern. "Take a break from this cat and mouse game. Give yourself time to heal. For me, please."
Jarod stared at him for a moment, before nodding, flashing him a smile. Jarod reached out a hand, and Sydney took it, gently shaking it. "Good bye, Syd."
"Bye, Jarod," Sydney said softly, watching as his son he never had turn and walk away. Sighing, Sydney looked down at the tombstone and nodded proudly. "Bye, Nicholas," he said softly, before he too walked away.
