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*Disclaimer: I don't own "The Pretender" or any of its characters. Thanx for not suing! ~Oriana

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To Dance In An English Garden
part V
by Orinana



They sat atop the stony ruins, silent, thoughtful, staring out into the ocean. Five minutes, ten, then fifteen ticked by, but Parker remained quiet, knowing Jarod would talk, in his own time.

He stared out to the horizon, where the tip of the sun would appear at any moment. Already the sky was filling with color, clouds reflecting red, orange, and a hundred colors in between. The shades of red reminded him of flames, leaping out towards him. Closing his eyes, Jarod forced the thought away. He knew the memories would come back to haunt him, again and again, but at that moment he just didn't have the strength to deal with them. He knew they would never go away, he understood that. All he wanted was to be able to look back on that time without completely breaking down.

This thought suddenly reminded him that Parker was still next to him, staring out to the ocean as quietly as ever. God, he wanted to tell her, he wanted to tell her so much. But he couldn't do that to her, couldn't give her another demon to bear, another reason to hate him...

Inhaling sharply at the thought, he stood abruptly, turned, and quickly climbed back down the ruins, shaking Parker from her reverie. Muttering, "What the hell?" she scurried down after him.

He was already in the hill's meadow, past the ruins, going at such a brisk step that she had to break into a light jog just to catch up with him. "Jarod, what is it? Where are you going?"

"Back to the car." Stupid question. Still, even though his voice wasn't cold, it'd regained that harsh edge. "I'll wait there until you've finished with your little field trip."

With an irritated frown, she finally caught up, stopping him with a pull of his arm. "Would you stop?"

"Let go," he demanded, finally turning to her.

"You know, this is getting real old, real fast."

"What are you talking about?"

"This. Your attitude, your character--everything's different. Everything could get better, if you would just tell me what's going on--"

"I'm fine," he snapped.

"The hell you are." Enough was enough. "You rant, you rave, you starve yourself, you have unbelievable nightmares—you are not fine. And if you don't feel like talking, well that's just too damn bad--I've got the car keys, and neither of us is leaving until this is cleared up."

"You can't stop me from leaving," he insisted, his voice rising.

"Watch me."

"Why are you doing this?!" His voice had reached yelling pitch. "An hour, a day, a week--nothing will change, I don't care how long you keep me here!"

"I can help you, if you'll just tell me--"

"Tell you what?! About all the people whose realities have been ripped apart by my meddling? How I'm responsible for the loss of innocent lives? What purpose would that serve--it won't take back what happened. All it will do is cause you more pain. I can't erase the past, but at least I can protect you!" His last shouted words echoed through the nearby woods.

"Don't hide this from me." Her voice was low, soft, determined. "Whatever happened, you can't handle it on your own. I'll be fine--it's you that I'm worried about."

He stared at her, guilty conscience fighting against overwhelmness. And then, finally, in a whisper barely audible, "I just want it to go away..."

Parker held her breath, waiting. His eyes slowly wandered to some point to the right of her, as his mind moved back to the beginning of it all. "I came across the file one night," he said vaguely. "Nathan Crawford...I didn't recognize the name, so I checked the Centre database, but there was just that one file on him...from your father's system. He'd pulled some political strings, gotten Crawford released from prison..."

"Why?"

"Your mother'd befriended a woman, Helena Price--very rich, lots of powerful connections. But more importantly, she was divorced with a little girl your age, and happier because of it. Helena began to visit her more and more, and they grew closer--and your mother began to get ideas. Your father saw what was happening, and wouldn't allow it. Crawford was an assassin, one of the best--in exchange for being released, Crawford took care of Helena."

"And my mother..."

"...had been reminded of the power your father had over her. Problem is, Crawford's not the kind of person that you control. Once the job was done, he disappeared...After finding out what he'd done to Helena, I finally thought to look at his criminal record, see what he'd been in for."

"Murder?"

"Child molestation," he whispered. "Three counts. I realized Crawford was probably still out there, so I did a nationwide search, tracked him down to Los Angeles, his newest residence."

"Oh, god..." Her mind tried to grasp it all, and as she realized that Daddy had knowingly freed a child molester, she felt physically ill. She gulped uneasily, but knew that she had to know the rest. "And then?"

"And then," he replied grimly, "I caught him."









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