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Chapter or Story 
Chapter or Story
~Part 1
by Brynna and Trixie
Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this fan fiction belong to NBC and any other copyright holders. No infringement is intended.
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The memory of Her voice, the last time she'd said anything to me rouses me from my state of unconsciousness.
I look around this small room - cell, I internally correct myself - and shudder a moment before my eyes close.
Darkness. This is much better. I can't see what's around me. I can't see the nothingness, or the dark, lifeless walls. I can't see the blood seeping down my side and along my knuckles. I can't see my knees, the material of my pants worn away over them, bloody and skinned.
But I can hear. I can hear the sounds that are not really there, the sounds that only torture me in my mind. The sound of Raines' oxygen tank wheeling through the Centre. I can hear Mr. Parker popping open the bottle of champagne. I can hear the songs of ding dong the Genius has returned echo through this sad imitation of a medieval torture chamber. I can hear *her*, chortling about how she got me to trust her, cackling over my naiveté and my willingness to give myself up for the sake of a child.
My heart bleeds as my body does. My back is bruised from the solid punches they'd delivered to it. Not sure who they were. Sweepers. Hired thugs, their sole purpose for being here to beat those who've disobeyed,or thought as an individual. Individual thought and imagination are strictly prohibited at the Centre. It's why I can't be here. It's why I'd rather be dead.
It would be easy right now to die. I've lost a lot of blood. My left eye is swollen shut and my right is too tired to remain open. My left shoulder is dislocated, my stomach is bruised and I have nine broken ribs, according to the last count I did. A large gash is positioned along my chest from collar bone to the tops of my ribs. It bleeds steadily. I could just slip away. I could let myself die from these wounds.
But I won't. Not yet. Because that means they win. It means *she* wins. I feel tears sting my eyes again and I refuse to cry for her. How could she be that cruel? How could she have done this? Used my greatest fear-something she *knew* was my greatest fear - to trap me. But it's not entirely her fault. She'd told me a thousand times before she'd do *anything* to bring me back. And in my desperate need to believe she was the girl I'd known - that she truly was her mother's daughter - I'd blinded myself to who and what she really was. I'd allowed myself to believe her when she said the Centre had another child and that she needed my help to get him out. I'd believed her when she said she believed me - believed her mother - and wanted something different for herself, something better. I'd believed her.
But I was wrong.
Because she didn't mean it. The tone of her voice had been so sincere. .. so believable on the phone. But then after I'd gotten the child out. . . . she'd trapped me with her sweepers. Her eyes had been cold, dead Her voice was tight and had a malicious pleasure to it. She'd thrown me against a wall and handcuffed me. Then she'd walked me down the hall, parading me through the Centre like a trophy. Her father was there. Raines. Sydney. God Sydney had looked so remorseful. His eyes connected
with mine and I knew he wasn't behind this. That he was as sickened by it as I was.
But that wasn't the final indignity. That wasn't what broke me. You'd think it would be the beating. You really would. But that's my secret. I didn't even feel the beatings. The rest of me was long dead already. Because of her voice. Her damned voice that has haunted my dreams - both the good and the bad - since I was eight years old. But this time. . . .it was colder. . . harder then I ever remembered. It was spiteful, like her spitting at me and saying 'see? This is how I felt all this time.' She looked me in the eye just before she shut the door to my cell. And she told me something I'd prayed never to hear.
*Don't even think about escaping again Jarod. It wouldn't do you any good, anyhow. Baby brother's dead, and I just got word your Mommy's dead too.*
Baby brother's dead.
Mommy's dead too.
The words echo through my mind and I can't make them stop. I'm beginning to feel the physical pain again, though it's minimal in comparison to the emotional and mental anguish I feel. And even as I hate her, even asI am eternally saddened by what has become of her, I still love her. Always. It is a curse from childhood when I first learned how to love her. And I live with the knowledge that she will never - could never -love me back. That she is indeed her Father's daughter - though who her biological father is still hangs in the air - and that she will never be anything else no matter how much I may want her to. Need her to.
I'm sorry Catherine. I failed.
Perhaps I was wrong. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad to curl up and letdeath claim me. No more pain. No more suffering. Just sweet surrender to the darkness, to the numbness. But then they'd win. And there would be no one to stop them the next time they decided to take another child, to ruin their life and steal their soul. No one left to stop the monsters from destroying the world.
So I lay on the floor, my bruised back pressed against the cement - Theydid not even give me a cot this time around - wishing I could hear a bird sing, or feel the wind and sun on my face. I feel my mother near me, as she has always been, as she will always be. And I feel *her* -not the woman who threw me in this cell but my fondest imaginings of her - brushing the hair from my face as she has always done in my delirium and holding the monsters at bay long enough for me to recoup, kissing my
forehead softly and whispering to me that it's all right. That everything will be all right. My eyelids slowly drift shut and I become
aware that I'm about to lose consciousness. Those ghost like fingertips stroke me again and I hear her voice, soothing, not at all as she had spoken the words to me before. Her voice makes me want to believe them as I drift into the darkness.
Welcome home Jarod.
~~~~~
~ Shit. This was NOT supposed to happen. ~
Pacing a small path over the floor in front of my couch, it's the only thought that radiates.
~ Not supposed to happen. Shit. ~
If only . . . if only he *hadn't* trusted me. I know I needed him to, that little boy needed him to, but if only he hadn't.
~ Shit. This shit was not supposed to happen. ~
And now he's locked back up, by me of all people. He has to think it's my fault. Okay, okay, it *is* my fault. But not in the way he has to be thinking. I didn't want him back there, not for good. I couldn't let Daddy and Raines have another one, ruin another child's life. And I needed Jarod to get him out. I couldn't do it alone.
~ Not supposed to happen. Shit, shit. ~
What a lie. My mother could have done it alone, if she had the information I have now. But I was scared, and not thinking, so I just asked Jarod, rather desperately, to help me. He believed me. And he got the poor kid out. That's all he needed to do, yet he came back to tell me. Why the hell did he do that? If he hadn't, he wouldn't have walked in front of me with the damned sweepers, Daddy standing three feet behind me. What was I supposed to do? Let him walk out? We both would have been killed. Instantly. And what good are either of us dead?
~ Shit. Not supposed. Shit. To happen. ~
I can leave the Centre now, their golden boy is back, no one really cares what I do. And I have to leave, it'll look suspicious after all my bitching that I stick around now that he's back. I'll just draw it out, I have to fix things. Sydney won't even look at me, Broots is full of nothing but horror and contempt when he looks at me, even if he should understand to some degree. Angelo, whom Sydney has been working with, and who's getting better . . . god, Angelo, he just stares at me with these sad, hollow eyes. And it's only been twenty-six hours. I can't let all this go on. I deserve all that's being directed at me, but damn it,
none of them do.
~ Shit. Not. Shit. Supposed. Shit. To. Shit. Happen. Shit. ~
Somehow, I have to make things better. I listen to my words play over in my head. 'Don't even think about escaping again Jarod. It wouldn't do you any good, anyhow. Baby brother's dead, and I just got word your Mommy's dead too.' How could I have told him that like that? Oh, right, the cameras. I had to make things look real. The damned cameras . . .they put more of them into that cell, in the hopes he'd be back. And the microphones, that pick up even the quietest whisper. I wanted to apologize, to mouth how sorry I was, but they would see. And after putting him in there, I needed to make everything better. What use to him am I dead? What use to him am I alive either, right now?
And Daddy. He has to . . . oh my god, he promised me they wouldn't hurt him like that. The beating that resonated through the walls, through the vents, through my soul. Hour, upon hour of them just beating him, trying to break his spirit, to make him never want to leave again. Too late guys, I took care of that part before you laid one single finger on him. I saw the light leave his eyes when I told him his mother is dead. He probably barely felt the wounds being inflicted on his body, the ones in his heart, his mind, hurting a hundred times worse.
Finally sitting down, my eyes drift around the room, unseeing. Nothing matters right now. I betrayed him in the worst possible way, and in turn, betrayed Sydney, my mother . . . myself. Not that what I get, what I go through is important anymore. I screwed up so much. This is the worst . . . I swore to him in no uncertain terms that he would not end up back under lock and key, playing to the whims of the Centre and the madmen who run it. I promised him that he was not going to be playing puppet again. And then I turned around and locked the door, ensuringthat he would be.
And now I have nothing to do but find a way out for him, and hope that he can accept that last little bit of help, before he leaves my life for good. It's the only thing I hope for now - that I can get him out andthat he'll trust me just one last time, long enough for his freedom to be restored.
~ I'm so sorry Jarod. ~
~~~~~
Jarod slowly blinks his eyes open, noticing no particular difference with his eyes open versus his eyes closed other then his left eye hurt more due to the swelling. Deciding it isn't worth the effort, Jarod lets his eyes drift shut again, perfectly willing to slip back into oblivion.
"Don't go back to sleep Jarod." Raines' voice drifts from the corner of his cell. "You've been doing that far too much."
Jarod groans a little when he hears him. "Leave me alone," he mumblesthrough parched and bleeding lips.
"Leaving you alone," Raines wheezes, "is not conducive to our work."
Jarod shakes his head, turning onto his stomach. "I don't give a damn about your work," he grits out, swallowing.
"We all are well aware of that Jarod. However, you're here now and what we want is a little more important."
Jarod coughs, his throat dry and parched. "What you want," he croaks with effort, "is an abomination to the human condition and I will die before I'm a part of it again."
Raines moves out of the corner, standing over Jarod. "I can assure you Jarod that your death will not be any time soon."
"And I can assure," Jarod says in a raspy, pained voice, "that my death is the only way you'll gain my compliance."
Raines sighs a little. "I suppose you deserve another couple of hours before we begin work. I wouldn't recommend sleeping though."
Jarod lifts his head slowly, his eyes making their way to meet Raines for the first time. "I will sleep when I want to sleep," Jarod says with the last breath he can manage, laying his head back down, his cheek pressed against the concrete.
Raines stares down at Jarod in disgust for a moment, then turns and leaves the cell, locking the door again behind him.
~~~~~
Sydney sits behind his desk, re-reading emails he and Jarod had exchanged over the past few months. A small smile creases his face, then immediately falls away as Sydney's sure he can still hear the screaming coming from the cell. Miss Parker knocks softly on his door. She opens it a little and sticks her head inside. "Syd?"
Sydney ignores her and closes down the windows on his computer, initiating the shut-down sequence.
Miss Parker shuts her eyes a little. She walks into Sydney's office and shuts the door. "I'm sorry Syd," she says heartbrokenly.
Sydney's head snaps up to meet her. "*I'm* not the one you should be sorry for," he clips out in an angry tone.
Miss Parker swallows hard, her eyes shutting again. "I know. And if I could apologize to him without them finding me doing it, I would."
Sydney narrows his eyes. "Why Parker?" he asks softly. "Why do you care? You have what you always wanted. Jarod back in the Centre. You traded his life for yours. You're free."
"No I'm not." Miss Parker shakes her head slowly. "I may have a way out of the Centre, but I'm not free of anything."
Sydney slowly walks toward her and places his hands on each of her cheeks, holding her head firmly between his hands. He looks into her eyes. "Yesterday," he says slowly, "I had never seen you look more like your father." He firms up his hold on her head. "At this moment, I have never seen the resemblance between you and your mother quite so clearly." He looks at her carefully. "What road are you taking Parker?"
Miss Parker takes a deep, unsteady breath. "That's part of why I'm here. I have. .." she takes another breath. "I have to fix this."
"How do you intend to fix it Parker?" Sydney asks her intently. "Say it."
"I have to get him out," she whispers, her eyes shutting again.
Sydney's hold on her head loosens a bit. He leans forehead and places the softest of kisses against her forehead. "Good girl," he murmurs fondly.
Miss Parker's eyes open again, shining with tears. "I need your help."
Sydney smiles gently at her. "You have it," he tells her seriously.
"Do you know what actually happened? Why things went the way that they did?"
Sydney looks at her closely. "I didn't," he says slowly, "until I saw your face just now." He sighs. "What was the plan Parker?" he asks her in a gentle tone.
Miss Parker sighs and leans against Sydney's desk. "He was just supposed to help me get that little boy out of here. None of this was supposed to happen."
Sydney sighs out a ragged breath and brushes her hair away from her forehead. "You were trying to save a child," he murmurs in more then a little wonder. His eyes take on a far off look, clearing illustrating that he is not in the moment.
Miss Parker nods, her eyes focused on the wall behind Sydney. "Yeah. I was too scared to try to do it myself. And I asked him to help. He probably thinks I set him up."
"Considering what you said to him," Sydney tells her honestly, "I don't see how he wouldn't. Not to mention his logic and rational skills aren't with him now. He's in a small room, he's hurt, and he doesn't have anyone to trust. He is - in his mind at least - alone."
"I know. And if I could change everything I would. Everything I said, everything I did that was for other people's benefit. I knew that I didn't have a choice. I couldn't just let him walk out. We both would've been killed. And if I was seen obviously showing sympathy to him, they would've killed me anyway. So I had to find something, but all that worked was just dredging up that heer anger I used to have for him, that I still have for so many people here. I just let it loose. They would've killed him and me and what good would that have done anyway?"
"Who are you trying to convince Parker?" he asks slowly. "Me or yourself?"
Miss Parker's eyes finally focus on Sydney's face. "Me," she says simply. "Because I. . . part of me believes what I'm saying, but then there's part of me that's just mocking every word of it. I spent so much time trying to accomplish this as the end result. So why should I be upset?"
Sydney sighs and cups her cheek softly. "I won't lie to you and say what you did was the right thing. Because I don't claim to have answers like that. But I honestly believe that it was the only thing you believed you could do at the time to keep you both alive." He smiles gently at her. "And as for why you're upset? I think that's a question you should ask yourself. Because you're the only one who can answer it."
Miss Parker licks her lips and takes a deep breath. "Yeah. I guess I should try and figure that out sometime."
Sydney nods a little. "Or you could just try to remember," he tells her softly. He takes a deep breath. "In the meantime, how do we get Jarod out?"
Miss Parker shrugs a little. "I'm not sure. We're probably going to need help from Broots and Angelo. And neither of them will talk to me."
Sydney nods. "Follow me," he says simply, walking out of his office.
Miss Parker stands up a little shakily and follows Sydney out of theoffice.
~~~~~
Sydney walks into the computer room, Miss Parker behind him. Broots and Angelo sit in front of one of the Centre's many security computers. "Angelo are you sure this is the way?" Broots asks a little nervously.
Angelo nods, his eyes a little wide.
Broots sighs deeply and hits the enter key. The main camera in Jarod's cell clicks on and Jarod's body, lying unmoving and curled into itself on the floor becomes visible. Broots takes a deep breath, hissing the air between his teeth. "Jesus," he mutters in horror.
Miss Parker lets out a shallow breath and grabs onto one of the backs of a chair, steadying herself as she stares at Jarod on the computer monitor. Broots spins around to see her, narrowing his eyes then turning away from her again, looking back at Jarod. Angelo looks back at Miss Parker. He shakes his head a little, his eyes hurt. He looks back at the computer monitor, a sad expression on his face.
Miss Parker sighs a little. "I deserve that," she murmurs, very softly.
"Damn straight you do," Broots mutters loudly.
Sydney sighs. "No, she doesn't," he says clearly. "Mr. Broots. How goes the plan to get Jarod out?"
Broots turns wide eyes back to Sydney, then nods at Miss Parker. "Ix-nay on the arod-J in front of. . ." he glares at Miss Parker. "*Her*."
Sydney shakes his head. "She's here to help," he says simply.
Miss Parker takes a couple of steps closer to Broots and Angelo. "This is at least going to take the four of us. Can you save tearing me apart until he's out of there? I'll declare open season on myself as soon as we can get him away from them."
Broots narrows his eyes. "Why do you care?" he asks in total bewilderment. "You're the one that put in there in the first place. The one who dragged him through the Centre in handcuffs and shoved him into that cage." He looks at her, eyes wide. "Why help him now?"
Miss Parker wraps her arms around her waist tightly. "I guess I figuredthat putting him back in there and then getting him out was better then a bullet in the back for both of us. Maybe I was wrong."
"You're damn right you're wrong!" Broots explodes. "Look at him!" He jumps up and grabs her arm, pulling her over closer to the monitor. "I don't know exactly what they did to him, but I heard the screaming from in here. He was laying on his back before - you can tell by that large blood stain in the corner." Broots looks at her. "He can barely lift his head. He hasn't
moved. . ." Broots crinkles his eyebrows. "We lost the feed an hour ago. . . . we just now got it back. He hasn't moved once. Same position." Broots shakes his head. "He's broken," he whispers.
"They broke him."
Miss Parker shakes her head. "No, I did. God I will take full responsibility for everything that went wrong, I just have to get him out. All of this, yes, was my fault, I fucked up." She takes a couple deep breaths. "It wasn't supposed to happen. None of it. And let me tell you something Mr. Broots - his screams are the only sound I can hear inside my head."
"Good," Broots says clearly. "Because after what we have *all* put him through, we deserve it. We deserve whatever happens to us." He looks at her coldly. "If you want him out, fine. We need the help. But if you decide at the last minute that Daddy's wishes are more important. . ." he trails off.
Miss Parker shakes her head. "The only thing I'll decide about Daddy is the best way to make him go away."
Sydney swallows and slowly moves his head inside the space between Broots and Miss Parker. "Let's not insult or demean one another anymore," he says softly. "We have work to do. Plans to make."
Miss Parker moves her eyes from Broots' face to Sydney's. "Have you all worked out any viable ideas?"
Broots nods slowly. "He doesn't move," he says again. "So it isn't that hard to just tape a few minutes of film, then loop the tape. Angelo's working on hacking into the main feed so we can replace it. That'll give someone a maximum of ten minutes to get him out before anyone becomes suspicious."
Miss Parker nods. "What about the four Sweepers outside his door?"
Broots stares at her. "That's your job," he says clearly.
"I figured as much." Miss Parker sighs. "I think I know what to do with them."
Sydney clears his throat. "There's still fire damage in SL27," he says softly. "However, there is a way out. The same way Jarod got out before.
They still haven' found," Sydney recalls in an almost amused tone. "Parker, you take him out that way. I will make sure there's a car waiting for you."
Miss Parker's eyes widen a little. "You want me to get him out? Syd. . .he's not gonna react well to that."
Sydney shakes his head. "He'll have no choice," he says clearly. "He has to go with you. I can't move fast enough, Broots and Angelo have to do their thing with the computers. There's no one else Parker."
Miss Parker swallows hard. "Okay. I just hope he doesn't put up too much a fight until we're outside."
Sydney glances back at the computer monitor. "I doubt he's capable of much verbal protest, let alone physical," he says gravely.
"Is he gonna be okay Syd?" Miss Parker asks in a small voice.
Sydney looks up at her. "His physical injuries - while extensive - should heal fine. Beyond that?" Sydney shakes his head. "I can't say."
Miss Parker nods. "It's up to him." She licks her lips. "When are we doing this?"
Sydney swallows. "Raines has a Sim set up in twenty minutes. Not enough time." Sydney's eyes are pained. "We'll get him as soon as he's finished."
Miss Parker visibly shudders. She puts a hand on Sydney's shoulder. "I'll get him out Syd. I promise. I won't let anything else happen. I've let too much go on."
Sydney takes her hand off his shoulder and squeezes it gently. "Your Mother is proud of you," he says softly. He turns away and walks to Broots and Angelo, looking over what they're doing at the computer.
~~~~~
Dark. Tight. Can't move. Can't breathe. Can't see. Can't hear. Nothing. There's nothing but the darkness, and the fear and the pain. Then there really is nothing. Because I've cut myself off. Because nothing exists. If nothing exists, there's no pain, right? No fear.
I can't breathe. Her hands are on my face again, softly stroking my skin, brushing the hair that has fallen onto my sweaty brow back. I truly cannot get air into my lungs. I don't know if this is part of the Sim, or just a response I'm having to the tight space. I don't like tight spaces. I don't like not being able to move my arms, my legs, or even turn my head. I hate it. Too much pain. Too much.
She's shushing me, quieting me, soothing me. This phantom that isn't real, that exists only in my memory, in my imagination. She is Catherine Parker - her healing, soothing touch that of a mother's. The only mother I'd ever known and I'd only known her for four afternoons out of my entire life. I'd known of her, of course, for much longer. But she'd only come to me those four times - and she was gentle. So gentle. I'd understood my childhood friend's intense pain at losing her - that light, that presence lost from a child's life would be devastating. And her death had cost me my life. And whoever killed her knew that.
The hands move to my shoulder, rubbing it softly. It should hurt, considering how badly injured it is. But it doesn't. For this is my delusion, my fantasy. And in my delusion there is no pain. There is no fear. There is only her. The her that does not really exist nywhere but my mind. For she betrayed me. How could she do that? the little lost boy inside me wonders. I feel now that all that is left is that lost, scared little boy. The man with his bravado and fearlessness seems to have deserted me now that I need him most and I'm left, alone and afraid of the dark.
Raines came for me earlier. I didn't move for almost a full minute. One of the Sweepers kicked my broken ribs and it caused me to leap to my feet. I staggered for a moment. Then they shoved me. Vision blurry, completely dizzy I wobbled to the Sim lab. And they put me in. . . here.
I don't know what or where here is, or what I'm supposed to be doing here. I just know that I'm here and I am scared. And completely alone.
Except for her. Her fingers feather over my closed eyelids, her voice comforting and soft, telling me to hold on, that I don't have to survive this much longer. It will be over soon. She promises. I wonder if she means I will die soon. The thought doesn't alarm me as it should. Instead, it brings me an odd sense of peace, of tranquillity.
It will end. I will die and they will not have the satisfaction of breaking me. I feel the pain in my chest intensify. But no - I am already broken. She has broken me. With her lie, her betrayal, her complete and total disregard for everything they'd ever meant to each other.
Complete indifference to his love for her.
The love that consumed him and swallowed him whole even as the pain and the bitterness threatened to destroy him, hollow him from the inside out. Those feelings were things he'd tried to reconcile long ago and failed, instead deciding to simply let them co-exist - figuring one day they would either cancel each other out or one of them would win the battle over control of his emotions.
To his surprise and utter fascination, neither of these scenarios took place. Even after what she'd done to him yesterday - still both emotions remained, strong and steady inside him. But the love. . . . the love was stronger. Not necessarily the foremost emotion at the moment, but definitely stronger.
I want my Mommy.
But she is dead. They have killed her too, taken yet another hope from me and crushed it. I blame them for the loss of *her*. I blame her father and Raines for what they did to her spirit, to her soul, what they did to her when they killed her mother. I hate them for what they did to me. But for what they did to her, I want them dead.
Her voice begins shushing me again, trying to keep me calm. She knows -as I do - if I become too angry my heart will stop inside whatever this machine is. She is keeping me alive. As she has done so many times before. Her lips brush along my eyelids and her fingers gently massage my temples. Soon, she promises.
I whisper her name, its beautiful sound familiar yet totally foreign. I was the only one who ever called her this. The only one she ever allowed to. And I haven't said it in years. Because it was too personal, too painful. I wonder if my lips still remember how to form it. So I say it again, a little louder. And that sound, too, is musical to my ears. I look up into her eyes as she strokes my head more. She is smiling, a smile I have yet to see on her adult face. Yet I know it as well as I know my own.
I swallow, nothing in my mouth to swallow but my throat needing to make the motion anyway. I wish for water, I wish for peace, I wish for her to be real, I wish for my mother, I wish for my brother, I wish to know my answers, I wish for the moon and the stars, I wish for freedom. But more then anything else, I wish for her salvation. I wish for her to know her truth for it is too late for me now. I am as good as dead. I wish for her to find herself again.
Shushing sounds again. She does that whenever I speak of my own inevitable death. As though this delusion, this fantasy of mine can't bare to see me go, can't bare to be without me. I suppose if I were to die she would cease to be. But I don't understand how it's possible for her to have free will, given that she is a product of my sometimes over active imagination.
*I love you Jarod.* Her words whisper against the top of my head, and the sound of them is bittersweet. Sweet because they are the words I've longed to hear from her. Bitter because it is not her, it is my imagination and now I know that I will never hear them from the real thing. She will never love me.
I feel the darkness swallowing me once more.
~~~~~
Mr. Parker narrows his eyes at the tube, listening as Jarod whispers a word hoarsely. He leans closer, trying to decipher it. His eyes narrow as Jarod repeats the word, a little louder. Inhaling sharply he turns to Mr. Raines, a distracted look on his face. "You were right," he tells him sternly. "He just confirmed it."
"What did he say?" Raines wheezes.
Mr. Parker's face tightens. "Leslie," he says in a cold voice, turning and walking out of the lab.
~~~~~
Shit, how am I going to do this?
The question mingles with the remaining sounds of Jarod's painful screams and the steely, upset voices of Broots and Sydney in my head. There's no question I *Have* to do this, I do, and it's not a problem that I do. In fact, I want to. But how am I going to?
Walking towards the general area of Jarod's cell, her eyes flash around, taking in every camera, every dark corner, every place to duck into . . . or to watch out for people hiding in. Committing it all to memory, again, she takes final steps towards her destination. Four sweepers stand guard outside his cell.
Such good little goons. Standing guard even when there's nothing and no one to guard. I stare at them, turning things over in my mind. A striking thought pierces my processes. I can get him out . . . and not even have to worry about the sweepers. The remembrance of something Broots had told me, the knock-out gas that doesn't even smell . . . perfect. I back-track my steps. My mind reels again, on other things.
How will I get him out? He's going to fight me. It may be subtle, not much energy put into it, but he's going to fight. He probably hates me. I know he doesn't hate me, hate me, but . . . I've seen the looks in his eyes, I know there's love there. I've never wanted to admit it. To let it in. I don't even know how to accept it. And now, I know the look I'll see, and it's not the one that warms me, that soothes me even when I'm so far gone that nothing can reach me.
He can't possibly know that he does that. That a look from him can calm me enough to keep from losing my head. Hell, I barely know that. Somehow, I have to find a way to let him know I'm sorry, that I never meant to hurt him. His defenses have to be up, he won't trust me again.
I don't expect him to. I just hope he won't fight too much. I pray that he doesn't.
Prayer. When was the last time I prayed? I can barely remember it, when it was serious, heartfelt. After all, as so many people say, I don't even have a heart that feels. It got shut off when . . . someone killed my mother. His father. His father killed my mother. Some might say I can blame him, since I am so good at guilt by association. But I can't, I won't. Not this time. Too much is too important, and for once, blame isn't one of them. So again, I utter a silent prayer to whatever god, whatever supreme puppet master is listening. Not that they should be, I just hope they are.
I get to where I need to, and grab the necessary items. The small tube of metal feels remarkably like a gun in my hand. I'm suddenly not sure I like the feeling. It doesn't matter, but I don't like the disconcertion I feel. Taking the small breathing masks, slipping one under my jacket, the other staying in my hand, I make another trip down towards the small, harsh cell. I find one of those dark corners I had previously staked out. I sneak into it, to sit, to wait. To think, of what, if anything, I can do for him. This jail-break of sorts does nothing to make up for the years of pain I've inflicted, but especially don't touch the last two days.
Can forgiveness find it's way to the surface, just for a moment? I'll never forgive myself, and he shouldn't forgive me, but there's a part of me that hopes he does anyway.
~~~~~
Jarod is stumbling between two Sweepers as they move him back down the hallway to his cell. Mr. Parker had been very disappointed, as well as Mr. Raines. The Sim had not gone as it should. Jarod hadn't fought. He hadn't given it his all. It was like he wasn't even there. One of the Sweepers opens the door and tosses Jarod inside roughly. He hovers over him. "You like your accommodations, Freak?"
"Fuck you," Jarod mumbles brokenly, his cheek against the floor.
The Sweeper kicks him in the ribs, hard. He laughs at him. "No thanks, Genius," he mutters, shutting the door.
Jarod releases a sharp hiss of breath, the pain in his ribs almost unbearable. He feels his mother with him again, his mother and her. His Mother tells him to close his eyes, to relax, and to let himself just go to sleep. Leslie tells him to fight. She tells him to hang on just a little but longer. That it's okay, that soon was almost upon them, and that everything was going to okay.
Jarod fights.
~~~~~
Out in the hallway, Miss Parker watches the Sweepers talking. She moves the small breathing mask in her hand over her face and uncaps the small metal tube, rolling it quietly down the hallway toward them. She watches as one of the Sweepers leans against the wall, a little heavily. The others following suit after a few moments. All four of them hit the floor, unconscious. Moving quickly, she grabs the keys to Jarod's room, opens the door and slips inside before any of the gas can come in.
Jarod forces his head up when the light flashes briefly, then disappears. He can't make out the face of the new person in the room.
"It's me Jarod," Miss Parker whispers.
Jarod narrows his eyes. "Miss Parker," he whispers in a barely audible tone, looking around, realizing both his mother and Leslie had gone.
Miss Parker moves to Jarod's side. She kneels down. "We have to go Jarod. I'm getting you out of here."
Jarod shakes his head, a little confused. "I don't want to go," he murmurs. "No more tests."
"That's not what I meant." She places a hand against his cheek as gently as possible. "I'm getting you out of the Centre."
Jarod looks at her, a little confused. "But you got me back in the Centre," he says in that same low, raspy barely audible voice.
"I know." Miss Parker blinks back tears. "And I'm sorry." She takes a deep breath. "I'll try my best to explain everything later, but we have to go. Broots and Angelo can only keep them distracted for so long."
"I don't understand," Jarod says brokenly, looking around the room from his position on the floor. "I. ." his voice trailed off, lost and scared.
Miss Parker shuts her eyes and she lets out a shaky breath. "I know Jarod. There's a lot you don't understand."
Jarod looks up at her, his eyes clearing, then glazing over again. "Leslie?" he asks, a little hopefully.
Miss Parker smiles, a tiny sad smile. "Yeah Jarod. Come on, we have to go. Can you sit up?"
Jarod smiles a little at her. "Les," he says in awe. "I didn't think I'd ever see you again." His eyes fill with tears. "I missed you."
"I missed you too Jarod." Miss Parker's hand brushes over his forehead gently. "Please. We have to go. Can you please get up?"
Jarod slowly sits up. He reaches out a hand, a little dizzy. "Help me Leslie," he says in a pleading, raspy low tone, barely audible.
Miss Parker takes his hand and squeezes it gently. "Okay." As carefully as she can, she wraps her arm around his waist. "Come on."
Jarod slowly gets to his feet, staggering and wincing at the pain shooting through his body. He swallows deeply, the effort grating on his parched throat. He turns his head a little, looking into her eyes. "My Angel," he murmurs. "My Angel come to save me."
Miss Parker swallows back a sob. She reaches into her pocket and pulls out the other breathing mask. She hands it to him. "You need to breathe through this so that you don't pass out out there," she says in a shaky tone.
Jarod nods, putting on the mask. Miss Parker puts her mask back on and opens the door, helping him walk out. The two of them walk quickly, stumbling only slightly when Jarod loses his footing down to SL27. Jarod takes a deep breath, pulling his mask off. "I don't know if I can make it," he says in a barely audible voice, his chest wound starting to bleed more.
Miss Parker takes off her mask and pockets both of them. "You have to Jarod. Just a little further. And we're out of here."
Jarod's breathing is heavy and labored, but he nods. "Let's go."
Miss Parker nods and helps him move across the room to the small patch of wall that has been worn away as a result of the fire. She sighs a little and braces one of her arms against the wall, lifting a foot and kicking at the vulnerable parts of the wall. She kicks it again, harder, pieces in the middle starting to crumble. She lets out a small groan and kicks the wall again, as hard as she can. The wall falls away in the middle, big enough for her and Jarod to crawl through it. She looks over at Jarod. "Do you want me to go first, or can you?"
Jarod swallows deeply. "You're gonna have to go first," he says in his barely audible voice. "You're gonna need to pull me through."
Miss Parker swallows hard. "Okay." She crawls through the hole, turns around, reaching a hand out for Jarod. "Come on."
Jarod places his hand in hers and allows her to pull him through the hole. He stumbles a little and falls to the ground outside the structure of SL27. He lands on his knees and groans, rolling onto his back.
Miss Parker sucks in a breath. She kneels down next to him. "You okay?"
Jarod takes a few deep breaths. "Fine," he grits out. He looks up at her. "Why are you doing this?" he asks in a completely baffled tone.
Miss Parker sighs. "Cause I screwed up and you don't belong here. And I'm trying to make up for everything that I've done wrong." She sighs. "And those are all excuses. I can't put it into words Jarod. I just am."
Jarod nods once, slowly. "We'll talk later," he manages to get out."After I've had food and water and rest."
Miss Parker nods. "Yes we will."
They slowly make their way up the Sub Levels of the Centre. Breaking through to air, and open ground, they slide through a window and drop down to the dark ground below. Jarod clutches his ribs, breathing shallowly.
Miss Parker nods her head towards the side of the yard. "Syd's over there. He's waiting for us."
Jarod nods, blinking back tears of unbearable pain he hadn't allowed himself to feel until just now. "I need your help one more time," he murmurs.
Miss Parker nods, wrapping her arm back around his waist. "Anytime you need it Jarod."
Jarod chuckles as best he can with his parched throat. "Careful what you offer," he croaks out. "I may take you up on it."
"I'm sure you will." Miss Parker takes a deep breath and starts helping him over to where Sydney is waiting.
Sydney's eyes fasten on them and he hurries over to Jarod's other side, supporting his weight along with her, both of them practically carrying Jarod to the car. Sydney helps her lay him down in the back seat, then closes the door behind him. "Parker," he says urgently, "you have to go. Now."
Miss Parker stares at him, completely paralyzed. Sydney snaps his fingers sharply in front of her. "Parker. Now," he almost yells.
Miss Parker blinks hard a couple times. "Where?" she asks helplessly.
Sydney places a consoling hand on her shoulder. "Think Parker. I don't now where to send you. You have to go where you'll both be safe."
Miss Parker nods a little. "Okay. I'll think of something."
Sydney leans forward and places a kiss against her cheek. "Safe journey Leslie," he whispers throatily. He looks her in the eye. "Keep each other safe." He places his hand against her cheek once, then turns, hurrying back to the Centre where an alarm has just gone off.
Miss Parker watches him for a moment. She shakes her head violently and turns, getting in the car. She glances back at Jarod. "Just a few more minutes, and we'll be somewhere you can rest." She turns the car on and drives away quickly.
~~~~~
The ghosts in my mind and heart have faded, yet one still remains. She drives hell bent down the roads. My Leslie, my phantom, my delusion. But she is not. She is real, and she has risked her life - given her life - to save mine. Is she real? Or is this an extension of the delusion I have been fading in and out of for the last two days?
I still remember the moment she arrived. Lying on the floor in complete agony. Leslie whispering to me to hold on, it would be okay soon. And then she was gone, and Miss Parker was there. But she wasn't Miss Parker. Not anymore. Not like she had been two days before. She was a voice, on the other end of the phone, alerting me to the Centre's latest acquisition. She was the face of a woman defending a teenage girl during a bank robbery when her own father didn't have the courage to. She was a
small child, wandering aimlessly through the Centre labs so that she could hold the bunnies. She was my Leslie. Catherine's little girl.
You did it Catherine. We did it. We kept her alive enough to fight back against him. Thank you.
Do you ever think of me Les? The way I think of you? Do you ever imagine that I love you as much as you love me? Or do you merely see me as one more wrong deed to be put right? I do not think I could bear the knowledge that that's all I am to you. A cause. A redemption. A wrong to put right. Makes me sound like a fucking Humpback whale. Is that all I am to you Leslie? Do you realize how much I love you? Can you even fathom the depth?
Even as I consider this I wonder at why she's truly helping me. She betrayed me. Or so I thought. I am finding that perhaps I was wrong. Perhaps she has not thrown me to the wolves, as I had thought, but instead led the wolves to believe I was their dessert to buy more time. Kept them at bay so she could rescue me. If she had truly meant me to be at the Centre, that's where I would remain now. Crouched in my little cell, starving, thirsty and broken. The knowledge that she might not have given me up to them willingly helps to heal the shattered pieces of my soul. Perhaps there is hope. While I don't dare believe she loves me
back, perhaps she no longer hates me for things that are not my fault, nor my wish. She had, after all, risked her life to get me ut of there.
She is my Angel. My hero. If only for now. Even if she takes it all back - even if she isn't real - this fantasy, this delusion was far superior to the nightmarish hell I had been living. I opens my tired eyes and lift my head, staring at the back of hers. She runs her fingers through her hair and turns the wheel, making a sharp turn yet keeping the car steady enough so as not to jostle me. A thoughtful gesture. So simple, it almost isn't worth making note of. Almost. For it gives more away about who she is - who's voice she truly listens to inside herself, who's guiding light truly does shine inside her - then anything else ever could.
Leslie. Catherine's daughter. My best friend.
My Leslie.
~~~~~
Miss Parker carefully helps Jarod out of the car and they hobble together into the cheap motel by the side of the road she'd finally relented to pull over to only after they'd driven almost two hundred miles away from the Centre in a little under three hours. They make their way to the room she'd rented, all the while trying to ignore the odd looks the motel manager had given them both. She lays him gently on the bed and hurries into the bathroom grabbing the small first aid kit the manager had assured her would be there.
"Leslie," he murmurs to no one in particular, wincing against a sudden shooting pain through his ribs.
Miss Parker moves back to sit on the edge of the bed next to Jarod. "I'm right here."
Jarod blinks his eyes a few times. "It hurts," he says in a small, tired voice laced with pain.
"I know it does Jarod." She opens the first aid kit and rifles around, taking out bandages and iodine.
Jarod eyes the iodine warily, and swallows. "You need to pay careful attention to my chest wound and my ribs," he croaks out. "Everything else is secondary."
Miss Parker takes a deep breath and nods. She reaches back into the first aid kit and pulls out a small pair of scissors, gently cutting away his shirt. "You're gonna have to walk me through this."
"My pleasure, my Dear Miss Parker," he murmurs. "First, take out the cotton swabs from the first aid kit. You're going to have to pour the iodine on them and sweep them over the wound on my chest." He winces at the thought.
Miss Parker nods and follows his instructions. She tentatively brings a shaky hand up to his chest, the cotton swab between her fingers. She looks into his eyes as she gently sweeps the swab over the cut on his chest. Jarod sucks in a sharp breath and his eyes shut. One of his handscurls around the bed covers, his entire body wincing. Miss Parker shudders a little and continues cleaning the wound. "I'm sorry Jarod," she whispers. "I'm so sorry."
Jarod shakes his head once. "Don't be," he murmurs a bit unsteadily. "You're saving my life." He swallows deeply and glances his head toward the bandages. "You need to cut a few strips of gauze and take the surgical tape. Make a patch that will fit over the wound." He coughs a little. "I probably need stitches," he grits out, "but they can wait. You just have to stop the bleeding."
Miss Parker reaches for the gauze and does as he told her to. Her hands continue shaking as she bandages the wound on his chest, as gently as she can. Jarod's eyes shut and he leans back, unconcerned at the moment with what she was doing. When he feels her hands leave him, he opens his eyes slowly, looking into hers. "Now you have to wrap my ribs," he says softly.
He braces his hands behind him and slowly, painfully sits up. "Take the Ace bandage and wrap it all the way around my torso as many times as you can. Tight, but not tight enough to do more damage."
Miss Parker shuts her eyes for a moment, licking her lips. "You'll have to tell me if it's too tight," she murmurs, picking up the ace bandage. "Or not tight enough."
Jarod smiles softly at her. "Don't worry Leslie," he murmurs, "I will."
Miss Parker starts trying to wrap his ribs, but her hands are shaking too much and she drops the Ace bandage once. Jarod picks up her hands and holds them tightly in his. He forces her to look at him. "You can do this," he tells her in a scratchy voice. "I know you can. I need you Leslie."
Miss Parker takes a deep breath and picks the Ace bandage back up again. She steadies her hands as much as she can and starts wrapping the bandage around his chest. Jarod winces a little. "Too tight," he murmurs.
She nods and unwinds the bandage, wrapping it back around his chest looser. Jarod smiles softly. "Just right Miss Parker," he murmurs.
Miss Parker nods slowly as she finishes wrapping the bandage around his chest and fastens it. She leans back a little and focuses her eyes on his. "Can I get you anything?"
"Water," he murmurs softly. "And maybe something to eat. Some fruit." His eyes widen a little. "Orange juice."
Miss Parker nods, standing up. She goes into the bathroom and fills both of the glasses with water. She brings them back to Jarod and puts them on the night stand next to him. Jarod falls back against the pillows and grabs for one of the glasses. He downs it in one gulp, not caring how much the contact of the glass against his lips hurt them. He immediately grabs for the other glass, drinking it a little slower, but still downing it in less then three gulps. He looks back up at her, panting a little, licking his lips. "Could I please have some more?" he asks softly.
Miss Parker nods. She picks up both glasses and goes into the bathroom, filling them both up with water. She heads back to him, putting one glass down on the night stand, handing him the other. "Drink a little slower Jarod."
Jarod nods, knowing she's right, but still unable to keep himself from downing it in more then six drinks. He picks up the other glass and drinks it down, this time taking eight drinks. He looks up at her. "Two days without water," he murmurs, "is something I don't want to experience again."
"I know. I don't want you to." She smiles a little shakily. "I'll fill those back up again, and then I'm gonna go get you some juice. There's a vending machine not far. Will you be okay?" Jarod nods his head slowly. "Yeah. I'll be fine Leslie," he says softly.
"Just. . . hurry back."
Miss Parker picks up the glasses, carrying them into the bathroom and filling them up again. She sets them down on the night stand. "I'll be right back. Try and not finish both of those before I get back."
Jarod nods slowly and picks one of them up, sipping it. "Anything you say Miss Parker," he murmurs. "Anything you say."
Miss Parker cringes a little. "I'll be back in a minute." She grabs the room key and walks out quickly.
~~~~~
He's asleep. Finally. I didn't think he'd ever get enough water. Or enough air. But I suppose the sheer exhaustion kicked in. He's lying on the bed, his head on three pillows, his wounds wrapped as best I could manage, my hands were shaking so much. He's faded in and out of calling me Miss Parker, in a scared tone, and calling me Leslie in a happy one. I wish that one would stay. I don't deserve it, I don't think he'll do it now, but I want it.
He looks . . . peaceful. He's such a beautiful man, even beaten like this. Mostly it's inside. His soul is beautiful. I'll never forget
someone asking me once to describe a person, to sum up everything important in words. I had the hardest time doing it. But Jarod . . . he's easy.
He's seriously fucked up. Those will always be the first words out of my mouth about him. He's fucked up. But he's so loving. He's mature, and child-like. He's got a heart of gold, that's got a bit of tarnish, nothing that he can control. He's smart, and naïve. Jarod is a walking contradiction. But he's beautiful. I almost wish the girls who laughed at me when I tried to do that before were here, they'd be surprised by how much my vocabulary has grown, dealing with him. They wouldn't laugh
now.
But they'd be horrified. They'd see what was done to him, realize I had a hand in it, and they'd be horrified. They'd look at me, pretty much how I look at myself. As a cold, heartless bitch who really doesn't care who she steps on to get what she wants. Or how hard she steps. But if that's the truth, why am I here? Why am I sitting in this chair, as to not disturb the sleeping man on the bed, and making sure he's okay? Maybe I want him. In some way I haven't tapped into. After all, can a selfish girl like myself change that easily?
Oh sure, it wasn't easy. But it was fast. I hadn't completely given up the idea of bringing him back until about a week ago. And then I finally did, only to lock him up. Irony. I get clue at the same time I have everything I've been wanting handed to me. One way ticket out of the Centre, Daddy and Raines out of my hair, freedom. That freedom he always spoke of, I had it. And I didn't want it. Not at that price. So here I am, sitting in a hotel room in the middle of nowhere, watching him sleep, making sure I'm awake to soothe his nightmares. Nightmares I know he'll have.
What about mine? They hit almost every time I close my eyes now. Does it matter? Do I have a right to have someone be there, wake me up, tell me it'll be all right? Probably not. But god, I want it. I want so much I don't have the right to, but more than anything, I want someone to just tell me everything will be okay, that everything will get better. And someone who will mean it, and work to make it happen. I'll do my damnedest to make that reality for him. But do I get it too?
The sound of his breathing is calming to me. I would be so tense, so upset, if he wasn't five feet away, and breathing. It's almost a lifeline.
His eyes flutter, the shut again. I hope he's not dreaming and keeping it completely inside. I don't want him to withdraw again. Not more. He's so far gone as it is, and it's not that far. A small voice in my head, one that sounds like my mother, keeps telling me that I should stop blaming myself, that it's not all my fault. And I want to believe her. But it's coming from her, and not from him. So I'm back to square one.
The rhythm of his breathing could lull me to sleep. But I won't let it. I don't need sleep, I need to take care of him. I owe him that much, and so much more.
~~~~~
Jarod thrashes his arm against the side of the bed, injuring it, but too far into his nightmare to feel it. He moans softly and rolls his head back and forth on the pillows. Miss Parker gets up from the chair she's been sitting in and walks over to the edge of the bed. She places a hand against his cheek. "Jarod. Wake up."
Jarod's eyes fly open and he darts them around the room. He takes in the light, the space he has to move and her hand against his cheek. His breathing is shallow and uneven. He blinks a few times, fully removing himself from the dream. "Leslie," he whispers unsurely.
She nods, moving her other hand up to her other cheek. "Yeah Jarod."
Jarod shuts his eyes tightly, a few tears seeping out the corners. "Why did you put me in that room?" he asks in a broken voice. "I know you had a reason. . . . please just tell me what it was."
Miss Parker moves her hands, brushing away his tears. She takes a couple of deep breaths. "I couldn't. . ." she licks her lips. "I couldn't let them shoot you in the back. And they would've."
Jarod nods his head slowly, understanding. He brings a hand up to her cheek. "Thank you," he whispers hoarsely, "for saving my life."
Miss Parker shuts her eyes and swallows deeply. "It probably wasn't the best decision in retrospect. I should've done something else, but it was all I could think of at the time. I'm so sorry."
Jarod licks his lips. "Hindsight is always twenty-twenty," he reminds her gently. "I am alive. And I'm free. I couldn't ask for more." He swallows and looks at her carefully. "Was what you told me true?" heasks shakily. "Is she really dead?"
Miss Parker nods. "Yes."
Jarod's lower lip trembles and a few more tears leaks out of his eyes. "Who. . . When. .. ." he shakes his head helplessly. "Why?"
Miss Parker shakes her head a little. "I don't know. I can only guess that she got too close and someone didn't think that was a good idea. I don't know who, and I don't know why."
Jarod's entire face crumples. "I never got to see her again," he says brokenly. "We made eye contact for maybe. . . a minute. . . saw my
sister. . . .and then she was gone again." He looks up at her, his eyes overflowing with tears and sadness. "They stole me from her when I was six, and now they've stolen her from me before I could even find her again. Why can't they leave me alone? Why Leslie?"
Miss Parker leans down and kisses his forehead softly. "I don't know Jarod," she whispers, heartbrokenly. "But they will now. I promise you."
Jarod shakes his head. "They won't leave me alone," he says bitterly. "They'll never leave me alone."
Miss Parker sighs. She runs her hand over his forehead softly. "They may not leave you alone in here, but I'm not letting them get you again. I'm not letting them get close enough to think about it."
Jarod shuts his eyes and takes a few deep breaths, letting her touch soothe him. He swallows. "Do you intend to spend the rest of your life keeping them away?" he asks her softly. "Because I can't see you giving up your freedom so you can stop them from chasing me. It's not worth it, because they'll never stop. And one day they'll get too close again. And I'll either be able to evade them, or I won't. And if they put me back in there, I'll get out, or I'll die." He looks into her eyes. "And until that happens, I'll help as many people as I can, and I'll continue trying to find out their secrets - my secrets - so I can expose them for what they are."
"Our secrets Jarod," Miss Parker mutters softly. "And if I have to, yes, I will spend the rest of my life keeping them away from you."
Jarod looks at her carefully. "Are you planning on coming with me?" he asks her softly. "Traveling around to all the odd little places I go to, helping me make the lives of the downtrodden a little better?"
Miss Parker shrugs a shoulder. "If you'll let me."
"Are you serious?" he asks her in a carefully neutral tone.
Miss Parker leans her head down again and presses the softest of kisses against his lips. She lifts her head enough to look him in the eye. "Yes I am."
Jarod takes a deep breath, staring at her back in the eye. He moves his hand up to the back of her head and pulls it down again, placing an equally soft kiss to her mouth. He pulls away from her slightly. "To the ends of the earth and back," he warns her softly, whispering.
She nods a little, her lower lip brushing against his. "I wouldn't expect any less."
"I wish I had the energy to really kiss you," he murmurs softly. "I wish I didn't hurt this badly."
Miss Parker kisses him again softly and she moves a little and slides into the bed behind him. "I wish you didn't too. But I'll still be here when you're feeling better. You need to rest Jarod."
Jarod curls his good arm around her waist and lays his head against her breast. He shuts his eyes. "Please don't leave me alone Leslie," he pleads with her softly, sleepily.
Miss Parker runs a hand up, brushing his hair back from his forehead. "I'm not going anywhere."
~~~~~
Jarod blinks his eyes open slowly, looking around the room only unaware of where he was for a moment this time. He moves his cheek against Miss Parker's chest. His arm automatically tightens around her waist slightly. He stays still, not wanting to break the spell, afraid maybe he dreamed what happened hours ago. The fingers of Miss Parker's hand move a little in his hair. "You awake?" she asks him softly.
Jarod mumbles against her breast softly. "A little bit."
Miss Parker nods and kisses the top of his head. "I figured as much."
Jarod sighs deeply. "Once I can move on my own," he begins softly, "what are we going to do?"
Miss Parker shrugs a little. "I was kind of hoping you had a suggestion or two."
Jarod moves his head a little. "I have no idea at the moment," he mutters softly. "But now that I know it's my responsibility, I'll work on it."
Miss Parker shakes her head a little. "It's not your responsibility. I just want your input. I can come up with something if you can't."
"Got it," Jarod pronounces softly. "We'll drive down to Mexico - I've got a friend at the border who'll let us in with no passports, nothing official. We can stay down there for a few days, then drive back into the US on the West Coast."
Miss Parker smiles a little. "So you want to complete the fugitive concept and leave the country."
Jarod shrugs. "Two Lovers on the run?" he asks, raising an eyebrow, then wincing when it hurts the cut above it.
Miss Parker leans down and kisses the cut gently. "I don't think we qualify quite yet," she murmurs softly.
Jarod shakes his head a little. "I disagree," he murmurs equally softly. "I think we've been lovers since before we knew the meaning of the word."
Miss Parker smiles gently. "You may be right."
Jarod looks at her a bit oddly. "I've never told you," he murmurs softly. "I've never told you because I didn't think you'd be
responsive." He sighs. "I'm sorry about that Les."
Miss Parker shuts her eyes and smiles a little. "You know what Jarod? I know. You don't have to say anything, unless you really want to."
Jarod moves his head a little, placing a soft kiss just below her ear. "I really want to," he whispers. "I love you Leslie." He presses his lips against her ear lobe again. "I have always loved you, I will always love you."
Miss Parker's arms tighten around his body a little. "I know you do Jarod."
He shuts his eyes and lays his head back against her shoulder. "Thank you so much for letting me say it without rejection or ridicule," he murmurs. "I've needed to tell you for a long time."
Miss Parker nods. She kisses the top of his head softly. "I don't think I could reject you right now, even if I tried."
"You never were the type to kick a man while he was down," Jarod mumbles in a wry tone.
Miss Parker smiles a little sadly. "No, but I usually put 'em down in the first place."
Jarod kisses her jaw softly. "Go to sleep Leslie," he murmurs. "You didn't all night."
She shakes her head. "I'd rather not."
Jarod sighs. "All right then. I'll go to sleep. You just stay here with me, okay?"
Miss Parker nods. "I like watching you sleep anyway. It's more restful."
Jarod laughs a little, already starting to drift back out. "That's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me," he murmurs sleepily.
Miss Parker kisses his forehead again. "Sweet dreams Jarod."
Jarod's only response is a light, snoring sound.
~~~~~
I did it. I told her I loved her. And she didn't laugh, or mock, or tease. She'd just whispered that she knew.
She knew.
My breathing remains deep and even. She knows I'm not asleep. But still she holds me. I have needed this for so long - longer then I was willing to admit to myself before. I've needed to rest and heal in the comfort of her embrace.
My mind wanders to a romance novel I wrote for her - about her - once upon a time. I had called her the saddest little Valentine. And I realize now, even as I spoke of her, I was referring to myself as well. Because I was very sad without her. As a child she was my only joy. As an adult, she's become a constant challenge - the need to make her see how truly wonderful she could be if she'd just listen to that little voice inside of her - her mother's voice - and help her heart grow.
And now she had. And my challenge is gone. But I have an even greater joy now. I love her. I am in love with her. Soul searing, heart shattering mind bending life altering would die for her love. She said she knows. I doubt she truly does. I doubt she comprehends exactly how much I do love her. I barely understand it myself. She is everything. My air, my water, my life. She did save me - but she did it so long ago. She saved me when I was a child. She gave me the human contact I so desperately needed. She saved my soul before she lost hers. Before they stole hers.
She did not tell me she loved me back. I did not expect her to, and truly I would've been surprised if she'd said it back. It is not in her nature to do so. Not yet, at least. She is so scared, and so confused, and so utterly lost right now. I hope I can help her find the way home. I hope she realizes her home is with me, just as mine is with her. Wherever we may be. I hope I can love her the way she deserves. I hope she can help to heal the wounds I can't see, as well as the ones I can. I hope she will help me find my sister. I hope. . . .
I freeze, realizing I have not told her something. Something imperative, something that she'll want - that she'll need - to know. I hold in my mind her truth - the answers that will serve as a balm and a re-opening for her own wounds. My news will bring her both relief and worry, sadness and joy. I can feel the reactions playing inside her as if they were my own. Anger. Betrayal. Gratitude. Immense happiness. Confusion. Life. These are the emotions of life. And she gets to feel them. I get to feel them. We get to feel them together. And they can't stop us. Because they don't own us. No matter what happens they can't take this
from us.
I snuggle my face into the crook of her neck, my arms still holding her tightly around the waist. She tightens her hold around me. I decide what I need to tell her can wait for awhile. A few more hours of peace. I will not let their lies, their deceptions take this perfect moment of peace from us.
We are free.
~~~~~~
He said it. I guess it shouldn't surprise me, I know it's how he feels, and he's always been honest, in some way or another. But hearing the words . . . wow.
I was right, when I figured that in some untapped facet of my head, I want him. Those tentative kisses left me with more desire running through me than the most passionate moments I've experienced so far. Was I just delirious when I said I'd go with him? No, the kisses hadn't happened yet. That was what spun my head. I hate feeling this out of control - but I'm craving the thing that leads to it.
He's not asleep. I know that. The sound of his breathing isn't quite relaxed enough. And his nuzzling into me is kind of obvious. Oh well, he needs to rest, and I'll bet money he doesn't have any better luck with restful sleep than I do. So I let him rest. It's so hard not to gather him into my arms more, to hold him tightly to my body. But I know it'll hurt him right now, so I settle for tightening my arms a little. It'll be better for both of us if we don't do this. That won't work though. I have to kiss him, and hold him, and feel his skin against mine. It's a need, it is dangerously close to becoming a fundamental in my life. I can almost guarantee that once I let myself get swept away once . . . I'll be gone forever.
What about love? This small voice asks in the back of my head. What about it? Do I love him? I don't know. I don't remember how to love. It's been so long . . . since her death. What is love anyway? I know what it means to him. What it means to Sydney. What it meant to my mom. But to me? I just don't know. Maybe I'll learn with him. Or even better, remember. I hope so, because this emptiness that hits me when I think about it . . . I want it gone. I want it filled with something else.
When did my hands take on a life of their own? I just realized that one of them is stroking his hair, and the other is trailing up and down his back. It feels so good to touch him, to know he's letting me. He could stop me so easily, and it would . . . shit, it would break me. I broke his spirit, I would deserve for mine to be squashed by him. it would be fitting.
So much could go so wrong, so easily. And right now, it would be the final straw, it would be the ultimate thing to destroy me. So simple, a couple of well-placed words, a movement of his hand, stopping mine (which slides lower on his back), and all the things I've tried to lay to rest, that I've tried to make leave the forefront of my reality, would suddenly be there, stronger and more harsh than ever. He could do that, he could break me, everything in me, so easily. And I wouldn't blame him in the least if he did. But I know Jarod, and I know he won't.
So I move my hands back to his shoulders, re-tighten my arms, and lean my cheek against his hair.
We both need to rest so much. And so we finally try, together.
~~~~~
Jarod opens his eyes fully, waking and turning over, groaning loudly as pain rips through his ribs, the rest of his body protesting to his movement as well. Miss Parker opens her eyes and looks at Jarod. "You okay?"
Jarod shuts his eyes on a wave of pain and nods once, jerkily. "Fine," he manages to get out. "Or will be."
Miss Parker nods. "Yeah, that last one." She smiles gently. "Can I get you anything?"
Jarod shakes his head a little. "Not that I can think of," he murmurs.
Miss Parker nods a little. "Okay. . . . So now what?"
Jarod forces his tired head up to look her in the eye. "That," he says slowly, "is entirely up to you."
Miss Parker's eyes widen a little. "You're trusting me to think of what's next?"
Jarod nods. "Why not? I trust you with my life. I might as well trust you with my peace of mind. With my heart."
Miss Parker's eyes shut for a minute. She opens them and looks at him carefully. "Are you sure you want to do that? Your life's a lot safe in my hands then your heart is."
Jarod forces himself to sit up and takes one of her hands in his. He places his index finger in the center of her palm. "It has nothing to do with being sure," Jarod tells her seriously, looking into her eyes. "You hold my heart right here," he applies pressure to her palm. "And there isn't a damn thing I can do about it." He shakes his head a little. "I don't *want* to do anything about it."
Miss Parker blinks hard a couple times, a single tear running down her cheek. "Do you have any idea what hearing that does to me?"
Jarod shakes his head a little. "I wish I did," he murmurs softly. "I know what it does to me to say it." He smiles a little. "It makes my heart a little lighter. And it gives my whole being a little joy." He brings the hand not holding hers up to her cheek, running his knuckles down the side of her face feather light. "Loving you heals me," he whispers.
Miss Parker leans her head forward a little, resting her forehead on his. She takes his hand and moves it up to her chest, pressing it against her heart. "Hearing you say those things." She licks her lips. "Makes me remember that I have a heart. It's so easy to forget sometimes."
Jarod leaves his hand over her heart and releases her hand, bringing his other around her back. He holds her to him gently. "I'll never let you forget Leslie," he whispers solemnly. "If you ever wonder if you have a heart. . . just come to me. . . tell me. I'll prove to you that you do."
He kisses the tip of her nose. "You have such a beautiful heart," he whispers. "It shines at me and it lights my way when I'm lost in the dark."
Miss Parker gently wraps her arms around Jarod's shoulders. She leans her head back a little and kisses his forehead. "Definitely going to need you to remind me of that."
Jarod moves his hand from her heart, wrapping it around her waist and placing his lips over her heart. He kisses her softly there. "That's what I'm here for," he whispers against her softly. "Whatever you need, whenever you need it."
"That could be dangerous Jarod." Miss Parker smiles a little watery. "You may find that to be too time consuming."
Jarod kisses her cheek softly. "I can spare you 24 hours. ... 7 days a week. . . . .52 weeks a year. . . . maybe. .. . 40 years. . . .but that's about all I can offer." He moves his lips to her jaw and kisses it softly. He leans his cheek against hers, kissing the skin just below her ear softly. "I want to be consumed by you," he whispers into her ear.
Miss Parker bites her lower lip. She runs her hand down his back, and back up to his hair. "We'll have to see what we can do about that," she murmurs. "We'll probably have to wait until you feel a little better though."
Jarod runs one of his hands up her back, to her shoulder, then around to her face, cupping her cheek softly, then running his hand into her hair, holding the side of her head. "You realize when I say I want to be consumed by you I'm not referring to sex." He looks at her carefully. "Yes, I want to make love to you. But I also just want to be with you. Lying with you here all night gave me better rest then hours of sleep could. You re-invigorate me. You re-vitalize and fill me with everything I could ever need. I am consumed by you every time you breathe in my presence."
Miss Parker shuts her eyes tightly, blocking tears. Jarod leans up and kisses her closed eyelids gently, brushing his lips over them feather soft. "You don't have to hide anything from me," he whispers in a low, tearful tone. "I want your laughter and your tears. I want your joy and your sorrow. I want everything you are, and I want to give you everything I am in return." He places his lips against her forehead. "Everything," he whispers softly.
Miss Parker opens her eyes, a few tears falling onto her cheeks. "Then I won't hide them." She takes a couple deep breaths. "I don't know how easy or hard it's gonna be, but I won't."
Jarod moves both his hands around her back, running them up to just below either shoulder blade. He pulls her to him and holds her, resting his cheek against hers. "I believe in you Leslie, he whispers into her ear. "I believe that you can do anything."
"I'm glad you're confident of that." A few more tears flow down her cheeks. "Because I'm not."
"Then I'll be your confidence until we build up yours." He kisses her ear lobe. "I'll believe until you remember how again. I'll believe in you until you can believe in yourself. And then I'll still believe in you. You just won't need me to."
Miss Parker takes a deep breath. "No matter what Jarod, I will always need you to believe in me."
Jarod squeezes her tightly, then loosens his hold. He pulls his head to look at her. "I need you to change my bandage," he says softly.
Miss Parker nods slowly. "I was just about to ask if you needed that." She smiles a little. "You have to let me go first."
"I'll never let you go Leslie," he whispers, slowly laying down on the bed and releasing her.
Miss Parker leans over the side of the bed and picks up the first aid kit. She gently takes the old bandage off and reaches for the iodine. She bites her lower lip and looks him in the eye. "Is there any way I can not use this?"
Jarod smiles a little pained smile at her. "Afraid not Sweetheart," he murmurs. "The iodine is unfortunately helping this heal."
Miss Parker nods and takes a cotton ball covered in iodine, dabbing gently at the wound. She quickly bandages it and leans her head down, placing a soft kiss on top of the bandage. "All done." She lifts her head. "How are your ribs?"
Jarod swallows. "Sore," he says tightly. "You haven't gotten a look at my back yet, have you?" he hedges warily. "You wrapped the ace bandage around in the dark and. .. haven't seen it yet."
Miss Parker shakes her head. "How bad is it?"
Jarod takes a breath. "Bad," he says simply. "I need you to unwrap my ribs and rub some liniment on my back," he tells her softly. "I don't want you to see this. But I have no choice. I'm in too much pain," he says, his voice breaking slightly.
Miss Parker nods her head a little stiffly. "I didn't make it worse during the night, did I?"
Jarod shakes his head. "No," he whispers. "You were rubbing my back very gently and it helped to soothe it." He takes a deep breath. "But you stopped. And. . ." he takes another sharp breath. "And now it's hurting. Badly."
Miss Parker moves her hands to the Ace bandage and slowly unwraps it. Jarod looks her in the eye, then closes his eyes, sighing and turning away from her, lying on his stomach carefully. His back, from his left shoulder down in an ugly, curving line to his right hip was black and purple, tinged with yellow. A large gash rests on his right shoulder blade, the wound already closing up. It wasn't deep, just ugly looking. There are a series of small lashes along the middle and lower parts of his back from where they'd used a small whip. A small dark bruise colors the spot just below his neck. Miss Parker sucks in a sharp breath. "Oh
God Jarod."
"They're not as bad as they look," Jarod tells her softly, his face buried in the pillow. "I really didn't want you to see them," he tells her in a sincere whisper.
"I know you didn't." She reaches for a small bottle of liniment and rubs some into her hands. She very softly runs her hands over his back.
Jarod tenses, shutting his eyes tightly into the pillow and digging his fingers into the sheets, squeezing as hard as he can. Miss Parker continues soothing his back. "How bad is it really Jarod?"
"It feels like fire," he murmurs into the pillow, tears lacing his voice. "It feels like they set me on fire."
Miss Parker runs her hands over his back a final time and reaches back for the iodine and some more bandages. She shuts her eyes for a moment. "God I don't want to hurt you anymore, but I have to deal with this cut."
Jarod nods his head once into the pillow. He doesn't speak. He fists the sheets tighter still in his hands and he grits his teeth, willing himself not to cry out. As quickly as she can, Miss Parker bathes the wound on his back with iodine and bandages it. She lays down next to him, running one arm over his lower back, her hand wrapping around his. She lays her head next to his and kisses his ear gently. "I'm so sorry," she murmurs.
Jarod turns his face to hers for a moment. A few tears are smudged around his eyes. "You have nothing to be sorry for," he whispers. He squeezes her hand in his for punctuation and turns his head again, laying it face down into the pillow.
"Don't do that." Miss Parker kisses his temple gently. "Don't hide from me Jarod."
Jarod slowly turns his head back toward her. "If I don't hide, I'm going to lose it again and I'm gonna go back there and. . ." he sucks in a breath. "You may not be able to reach me for awhile."
Miss Parker brings her hand up to his cheek. "Is it better for you to go through this alone?"
Jarod looks into her eyes. "I don't know," he whispers in a lost tone. "I've never had anyone to go through it with. Alone is the only way I've ever known."
Miss Parker nods slowly. "Okay. What would you prefer? Dealing with this alone, or letting me help?"
Jarod's lower lip trembles and he takes a deep breath, then exhales it on a sob. He rolls a little and wraps one arm around her waist, his head landing in the crook of her neck. He tightens his arm around her waist,his other hand still held in hers. He cries softly.
Miss Parker brings her free hand up to the back of his head, her fingers running through his hair gently. She leans her forehead down on top of his head. "That's it Jarod. Just let it out. You're safe in my arms."
The soft cries turn into deep, gut wrenching sobs. His entire body heaves against her and his arm tightens almost painfully around her waist. Miss Parker continues whispering soothing nonsense to him. After a few minutes, Jarod quiets and simply lies still against her, spent and his entire body aching along with his mind and his soul. Miss Parker kisses the top of his head. She leans her head back a little and looks at him. "Is that any better?"
Jarod clutches her with his arm, his face buried in her neck. "I love you Leslie," he whispers in the small voice of a lost little boy. "I love you."
Miss Parker swallows and kisses the top of his head again. "I know you do baby."
~~~~~
The fire burns inside me.
My back hurts, yes. Frankly it's in endless agony. But it is the fire burning inside me that threatens to destroy my soul. The mental and emotional torture. The beatings were bad. They were painful. But it was worse being locked up in that little room, left alone for two days. That was what will leave the most lasting damage. I know that. The nightmares. They don't compare to the waking dreams. The sudden jarring, horrifying images that hit you while you watch a child fall off a set of monkey bars or a woman crying on a park bench.
They will hit me when I least expect it and I will have no say as to how hard.
My face is buried in the crook of her neck, my arm still wrapped tightly around her. She is still stroking my back, soothing it, soothing me as though I were a small child and she was my mother. I do not remember ever having a mother, but I imagine it to feel somewhat like this -safe, secure, warm. Peaceful. Except there are emotions I have toward her that no child should ever feel for his mother. Desire, raw and pure. Want. Need. Love. The most ferocious love I have ever known in my life.
And the funny thing is, it doesn't even matter to me if she loves me back.
The way she holds me like this - I could accept that she will never love me back. As long as she doesn't leave me. I think perhaps that is selfish of me. Doesn't she deserve to love someone? But I don't care right now. I feel selfish at the moment. And all I want is for her to hold me - to keep this feeling I have when I'm with her wrapped around me - forever.
It's funny. Even as I feel it from the very depths of my soul that she does love me back - I still doubt. Because just as deeply down - if not deeper - I also feel this gut wrenching fear.
What if she doesn't?
What if she didn't love me. What would that change?
Would I stop loving her?
No. That could never - would never - happen. I love her too fully, too all encompassing for that.
Would I leave her?
Never. I couldn't. I am lost without her. Her mind, her heart, her body is home to me.
It doesn't matter.
I love her. It is unconditional and all consuming - even if she never loved me back, it wouldn't change, it wouldn't lessen. It is the most powerful thing I know and it fills out every fiber of my being.
And I want her. Need her. Even as my body aches and creaks with pain I want her. I want to lay her down beneath me - on top of me? - and run my hands over her body. I want to cup her breasts in my palms and tickle my fingertips down her ribs. I want to press my lips over every part of her body and breathe in her scent, fill my lungs with it until she's all I can smell, taste and touch. Until I am physically consumed by her, and in her and with her. I want to be consumed by her in every way - not
just the emotional and mental way I am now.
My body protests at the thought of it, of course. My ribs ache, sharp pains shooting through them when I move the wrong way. My head hurts where it smacked against the cement too many times. The gash on my chest still stings. And my back. God my back feels like a thousand needles are poking and piercing my skin constantly. Only her hands, gently stroking lessen the agony at all. And it burns.
Every part of my body burns - my back in an unpleasant way. But the rest of me. God the rest of me burns for her in a very different way. My mind burns to have the knowledge of her body and her soul. My heart burns to hear her tell me she does love me, even as I know it and doubt it equally. My soul burns to meld with hers. And my body burns to possess hers, to make love to her the way I've wanted to since before I can remember.
These two fires burn within me. The one that burns for her will never grow dim.
~~~~
Jarod lays in the same position, arm curled tightly around Miss Parker's stomach, face buried in her neck. His breathing is deep and even, his body finally relaxed in sleep. Miss Parker lays with her head back on the pillow, one of her hands stroking his hair gently, the other still holding his. Her gaze focuses on the ceiling, staring at the patterns made by the headlights of passing cars. They have spent the entire day in bed, fading in and out of sleep, touching each other as they have, but not speaking again. Jarod has been completely unmoving for the last two hours. After a few minutes, Miss Parker turns her head and looks at
Jarod. "Jarod?"
Jarod is completely unresponsive to the sound of her voice.
Miss Parker carefully uncurls her hands around his shoulder and shakes him a little. "Jarod. Wake up."
Jarod doesn't move, doesn't speak, doesn't make a sound.
She shakes him a little harder. "Jarod," she says sharply.
Still, nothing.
A worried look crosses Miss Parker's face. "Jarod wake up," she says almost pleadingly, shaking him a little harder. "Please wake up."
Jarod remains completely unresponsive, not twitching a muscle.
Miss Parker sits up. She looks down at Jarod and notices that the wound on his chest is bleeding through the bandage. She cringes a little and reaches for the first aid kit. She gets up from the bed and goes in the bathroom, getting a couple of towels. She soaks one of them in water and goes back to the bed, unbandaging his chest wound and lightly pressing the wet towel against it. She brings her free hand up to Jarod's face. "Jarod, you've got to wake up."
Jarod still does not move.
Miss Parker sighs and dabs his chest with the wet bath towel a few more times. She picks up the dry one and presses it against his chest. She removes the towel and takes another bandage, re-bandaging his chest, all the while trying to wake him. Jarod doesn't hear her, doesn't respond to her, instead seeming to sink even deeper into unconsciousness.
~~~~~
Trapped. Can't breathe. Can't think.
Pounding. Beating. Bleeding.
My hands are numb. . they've hung me from the ceiling for twelve hours. I can't feel my fingers, my wrists are burning from the ropes. They're whipping my back. I take this for a full ten minutes before Iscream. A primal, pained terrified scream wrenched from the very depths of my soul. And still, the lashes continue.
I've been kicked. Kicked in the ribs so many times I'm on the floor, curled into myself. I know they're broken. They have to be broken. They're laughing at me. Cold, horrible laughter that makes me want to throw up. Except there's nothing in my stomach *to* throw up because they haven't given me food or water in. . . . a day. Two? I'm not sure. I only know that they're kicking me again and it's coming from all sides and I can't breathe Oh God I can't breathe I need help please just let me die Oh God get me out of here I can't breathe.
Leslie.
Her voice. I hear her voice. She wants me to wake up. I don't know if I can. I'm trapped in this place. This cold, dark place and I can't leave it. They've gotten inside my head, inside my thoughts, my dreams, my every moment. They control my breath, the pumping of my heart, what I eat and drink. They are inside me.
Blood. I'm losing blood. They've taken a huge knife and cut me. A deep, long, slow slash down my skin while I'm chained. It takes them four minutes to make a two inch cut along my chest. I scream the entire time, the agony too much, too much on top of the emotional distress. And I am bleeding more. I am covered with my own blood. Head to foot. So much blood. Help me Leslie.
Leslie. Oh God Leslie. Covered in blood. My blood. Her blood. I don't know. It's everywhere. Red and flowing, sickening. And then everything turns black and white. Dull, like the images on the DSA's. It's all I can see. The color is gone - all gone. And I am on the floor again, huddled in a ball, my ribs aching, my chest bleeding and my soul dying.
Leslie.
~~~~~
An hour after Miss Parker had placed a cool towel on Jarod's chest, he woke up. Suddenly. His eyes fly open, darting around the room, searching, frightened and lost. Miss Parker walks out of the bathroom with a bowl of water and a couple towels in her hand. "Leslie," Jarod whispers in a frantic tone.
Miss Parker hurries over to the bed, setting what's in her hands down on the floor. "I'm right here Jarod."
"How long?" he murmurs, still looking around the room.
Her brows furrow a little. "How long what Sweetie?"
"How long was I in the Centre?" he asks in a low, scared voice.
Miss Parker sits on the side of the bed. "About sixty-four hours."
Jarod's eyes shut. He takes a deep breath. "It seemed like nearly a week," he murmurs in a lost voice. "With everything they did to me. . . . they must've come back every three hours. . . . it seemed like so much longer." His voice is shaky, and his eyes open, darting around the room in a disoriented fashion.
Miss Parker places her hands on either side of his face. She leans down and kisses his forehead softly. "We got you out as soon as we could."
Jarod looks up into her eyes, his pleading. "Help me," he pleads with her softly. "Make it stop. Make them stop." He widens his eyes. "They're in my mind. My soul. They're destroying me from the inside out," he tells her in an unstable tone.
Miss Parker's eyes fill with tears. She takes a couple of deep, shaky breaths. "I wish I knew how to exorcise all of your demons Jarod." She takes another shaky breath. "I can only assure you, you are safe here and that they can't take you."
"You won't let them take me again," he mumbles, curling himself into a fetal position. "I know you won't ever let them take me again." He takes a deep, shuddering breath. "You promised," he whispers like a child.
"No Jarod, I won't." Miss Parker leans over and wraps her arms around his shoulders. "I won't let them do anything to you."
~~~~~
What happened to him? He won't tell me. I know he won't. He doesn't even want me to see him like this, he won't want me to know what he dealt with.
I am left to imagine. I know what they do in those rooms. Beating him was the easy part. They probably tied him up, left him hanging form the ceiling to give themselves better access to his more vulnerable body parts. I know those marks on his back. The small cuts from the whip with the metal plates in the tips, the bruise on his neck from, my only guess, a small round metal bar that's got a few uses when trying to prove a point to someone. And the steady line of bruises . . . shoes, fists, boards. Anything they could get their hands on. Probably a pocket knife to cut both his chest and shoulder. And I haven't seen his legs
yet, but the bruising is likely to be extensive. Of all of this, I basically know. But the question remains, what did they do to him? To his head. Something worse than I can come up with, as I can't imagine Jarod letting them get inside his head. He's always been good at keeping them out.
But I'm lying here, cradling . . . god, my best friend -when was the last time I thought of him like that? - while he trembles in terror for what they've done to him. And what I did to him, even if he refuses to blame me. It doesn't matter, I know it was my fault, to some degree. How could they do this to him? Good lord, how can anyone do this to another human being?
Where the *hell* did that train of thought come from? That's not something I expected to ever hear coming form my head, after all, look what I did to him.
He trembles again, more violently. I press my lips against his forehead. 'Shh Jarod,' I murmur. I try to make him feel safe, but I
don't know how, safety having never been something I'm familiar with. He needs to be safe though, and I have to make everything just that way for him.
I've never felt responsible for another person before. But I do feel responsible for him. Not just in the sense that I hurt him and I have to make it up to him, but because there is a need inside me to makeeverything better, to make him feel needed and wanted, to make . . . to make him feel loved.
I really need to learn how to do that.
~~~~~
Jarod snaps his eyes open again, looking around the room frantically. Miss Parker places a hand against his cheek, stilling his head. "Hey. What's the matter?"
Jarod blinks and reaches his hand out, clutching her forearm tightly. He looks at her closely. "How long have we been here?" he asks urgently.
"About thirty-six hours, give or take."
"We have to go," he says bluntly. "We have to go now."
Miss Parker looks curiously at Jarod. "Okay. How come?"
Jarod shakes his head. "I'm not sure," he says to both her and himself. "I just know we have to go."
Miss Parker nods. "Okay." She looks at Jarod. "Sydney stuck some clothes in the car. I'm gonna go get them."
Jarod nods slowly. "All right," he says softly. "I'm going to go into the bathroom and take a shower."
Miss Parker sits up a little. "Okay. Do you need any help getting to the bathroom?"
Jarod shakes his head. "No, I've got it," he says in a low tone, gently throwing his legs over the side of the bed and standing shakily. He sways for a moment, then stands straight, walking toward the bathroom. "If I'm not out in fifteen minutes. . ." he trails off, and looks back at her. He quirks his lips. "Help," he finishes.
Miss Parker smiles, a little shakily. "I will."
~~~~~
Exactly fourteen minutes later, Jarod pokes his head out the bathroom door. "I need your help after all," he murmurs almost embarrassed.
Miss Parker looks up and smiles a little. "I figured. That's why I didn't change." She gets up and walks toward the bathroom.
Jarod climbs back in the shower and stands there, rather dumbly, not moving. Miss Parker looks at him, an eyebrow crooked. "What can I do for you?"
Jarod looks down at himself. "I. . . . I can't reach," he says softly. "Anywhere beyond my arms and. . . I can't wash my back." He looks at her almost pleadingly. "I'm sorry to bother you. . ."
Miss Parker shakes her head, already stripping off her shirt. "It's not a bother Jarod." She removes the rest of her clothes and steps into the shower with him. She takes the soap and the washcloth and very gently begins washing his back.
Jarod winces as the washcloth abrades his sensitive skin. Miss Parker stops washing his back for a moment. "I'm sorry Jarod."
"It's all right," he says tightly, shutting his eyes. "It needs to get done."
Miss Parker takes a couple of deep breaths. As gently as she possibly can, she rubs the washcloth over his back. Jarod sucks in a breath and holds it, willing himself to stay still until she's done. Miss Parker drops a soft kiss against his shoulder. "All done."
Jarod shivers a little and nods. "Thank you," he whispers huskily.
Miss Parker places one of her hands on top of his shoulder. "Do you need me to do anything else?"
Jarod lets out a ragged sigh. "My legs," he murmurs, staring down at the floor.
Miss Parker nods. She picks the soap back up and kneels down to Jarod's side. She bites her lower lip a little. There are small incisions on his legs. They appear to have been made precisely with scalpels to inflict the maximum amount of pain. There are also small cigarette burns all along his legs. His knees are raw and skinned. Miss Parker shakes her head a little and drops the washcloth. She rubs the soap in her hands and runs his fingers over his legs. Jarod lets out a small gasp at the contact, and shuts his eyes tightly, leaning his forehead against the shower wall. He bites his lip to keep from crying. She finishes washing his leg and scoots over to the other side of the tub and doing the same to the other leg. She finishes washing his other leg and slowly stands up so that she's facing him.
She cups his cheeks gently. "Better?" she asks in a small, hurt voice.
Jarod looks into her eyes and nods very slowly. "Yes," he answers on a sigh. "Thank you so much," he says in a heartfelt tone.
Miss Parker kisses his bruised lips very gently. "You're welcome."
Jarod opens his mouth once, as though to speak, then closes it, shaking his head.
Miss Parker tilts her head to the side a little. "What?"
Jarod sighs and looks down at the bottom of the shower again. "I just wanted to ask if I could hold you," he mumbles.
Miss Parker shuts her eyes and leans against him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. "You don't have to ask."
Jarod crumples slightly against her, wrapping his arms around her waist. "I wasn't sure," he whispers.
"I know." She leans her head against his shoulder. "But now you are. It's a standing offer. No need to ask for permission."
Jarod nods, leaning his cheek on the side of her head. "I won't ask next time I need to hold you," he tells her softly. "But remember you told me I didn't have to - I'll be taking the liberty often."
Miss Parker smiles a little and turns her head, kissing his jaw softly. "I'm counting on it."
~~~~~
She touched me.
I know I had to ask her and she only did it because I was filthy and couldn't reach, but still, she touched me.
I don't think I've ever been that shy, or that embarrassed before. I'd stood in the shower for a good five minutes just letting the water flow over my body, trying to find some other way to do this - any other way. I did not want to call her in there to wash my body. It seemed like something that should wait - washing each other - until after we've made love for hours and we need showers but can't stand to be apart that long.
We are on the road now. We got out of the shower after standing under the water and holding each other for a good ten minutes. We dressed and hurried to the car. Leslie has been driving at about eighty down thehighway toward Mexico for nearly an hour now. We've found a nice soft rock station and we've enjoyed a companionable silence since we got into the car.
I still can't believe she actually touched me.
I was wary to let her see my legs, my back. I know she blames herself. Blames herself for things that are not her fault, things I could never blame her for. But it doesn't matter. I can forgive her a thousand times and it does no good until she forgives herself. I intend to help her with that endeavor. I intend to love her so totally, so thoroughly, so completely that she has no choice but to love herself too. I want to help her heal emotionally just as she has helped me physically. I want us to heal each other. Wounds that go back so far and go down so deep. Wounds that will never be truly healed, but will hopefully close and leave only tiny, barely noticeable scars.
I could feel her anger at the cigarette burns - burns Mr. Parker himself personally added to my legs while I was hung from the ceiling by my wrists.
I could feel her rage at the incisions - these courtesy of one of Raines' Sweepers - the one who wanted to *be* like the 'great' Dr. Raines. He would make a small incision, enough to make me scream at the pain - then they'd ask me questions - who was helping me inside the Centre? Was I aware what my mother was doing before her death? Is my brother truly dead? Whoever's been helping me inside the Centre is as good as dead. Ready for the Sim's again Jarod? - and when I refused to answer any of them, another incision was made. And another. Each time, a little bigger then the time before, a little deeper.
When that didn't work, they took out the needles.
I had blocked that. But it came back to me while she was washing my legs. It was the way her fingertips were prickling my nerves. They took small needles - like acupuncture needles - and inserted them into mylegs. All along my legs. Dozens of them. And then they brought the scalpel back out. I shut my eyes now in the car, leaning my head against the window. A new technique, they said. A never before used method. Pity it didn't break me.
She was touching me.
I cling to the thought like a life preserver at this moment in time. I can't go back there. I was almost gone again and only the soft strains of Sarah McLachlan's 'Full of Grace' brings me back. Her hands were so gentle. The washcloth along my back almost killed me. But I fed off her strength, her comfort, her reassurance, and it helped. It helped more then I can express. Then she stood up and kissed me. And her arms wrapped around my shoulders after I asked to hold her. She was holding me. She told me I didn't even have to ask. Imagine that. I can hold Leslie whenever I want to.
Unfuckingbelievable.
I will hold her whenever the mood strikes me now. And once I'm well, I will do a lot more then hold her. If she will permit it. I think she will. I hope she will. She looks at me sometimes, and I swear, it's as though she can see right through me - to my soul, to my passion. I wonder if she knows how great my passion is for her. My passion and my love. Which is greater? I wonder. I think it's my love. Although my passion is great, my love is unending. Times like this morning in the shower I almost believe she feels the same.
Absolutely, positively, unfuckingbelievable.
~~~~~
Jarod glances away from the window and looks at her. "I'm hungry," he says softly.
Miss Parker glances at him quickly, turning her attention back to the road. "Me too, actually."
Jarod smiles. "How about a drive through? I can feed you while we're on the road." He looks down at the map in his lap. "Just another hour - thirty minutes, the way you drive - to the Mexican border. Last chance for safe food," he murmurs, grinning.
Miss Parker eases off the accelerator, slowing down to forty as they enter into the town. Her eyes scan the five or six fast food restaurants along the main town. "So, what looks good?"
Jarod quirks his lips. "I don't have a preference - you want burgers, chicken or tacos?"
"Burgers." Miss Parker slows down by the McDonald's. "Easier to eat."
"My offer to feed you still stands," Jarod offers softly.
Miss Parker smiles at him. "Still easier."
Jarod chuckles. "That's me - aiming to be easy."
Miss Parker slows down and stops by the drive thru menu. She reaches a hand over and brushes a lock of hair back from his face. "And never succeeding."
Jarod looks up at her. "Yeah, but always trying," he murmurs.
She nods. "So, what do you want?"
Jarod considers the menu. "A number one, no onions, super sized with an orange drink."
Miss Parker talks to the annoying person on the other end of the intercom and orders food. After a couple of corrections, she pulls around to the window. She pays the teenager at the cash register and looks at Jarod. "They have the stupidest people working here," she mutters.
Jarod smiles softly. "They're just people." He lays a hand on her thigh.
"And Leslie. . . you're smarter then the rest of the world. Everyone else pales in comparison."
Miss Parker smiles a little. "Well, I'm smarter then some people."
"You're smarter then ninety-nine percent of the population," he murmurs.
"I should know. I'm part of that one percentile with you."
Miss Parker gives him a look and turns her head, getting the food and drinks from the kid in the window. She hands everything to Jarod and turns the car back onto the main road, heading south out of town.
~~~~~
Well, that was an uneventful trip down. Just the way I like them. Get things done and move on. Especially when my life is on the line. Mine, and his. So now we're in Mexico. Such a *lovely* place. And I mean that with as much sarcasm as reverberates in my head with the thought. Oh well, at least we found a little place on the beach. I won't go near the water, but the sand isn't bad to walk on. Which is what I'm doing.
Jarod's asleep. I probably shouldn't have left him, but I needed some air. I'm not going far. I can't let him be alone for that long, if he wakes up disoriented, I want to be there to calm him.
I still can't believe he asked my permission to hold me. Shit, I've known men who barely ask to fuck you. Yet Jarod asked to put his arms around my body, to hold me. I had no response for a moment, except to pull him into a hug. He now has my permission to wrap his arms around me. I can pretty much guarantee he'll take me up on it quite often. I actually want him to. I want to feel him against me, his breath on my neck, his cheek on mine. So maybe I won't wait for him.
God, when he asked for my help in the shower - I had almost offered before he got in, but decided that he would be embarrassed. And I was right. When he asked, he had the cutest look on his face. The best way I can describe it - a slight blush, almost ashamed, a tinge of hurt, and this glint in his eyes, just before he looked down to the ground, of . .. god, of excitement. He wanted me in the shower with him, and that would easily be the embarrassment. Was it? I'm not sure, I think some of it was he didn't want me to see his legs either.
Oh my fucking god, what they did to his legs. The bruises, I knew . . . the incisions . . . I had forgotten about those. And the burns . . .Daddy, I'd bet anything. There's so many things I could kill that man for, but this one . . . he better hope we never come face-to-face again.
I felt him drifting in the car, thank god for Sarah McLachlan. That damned song probably saved me from having to pull him back from places I promised him he wouldn't have to go back to. And even if he's not going back, he's there in his mind.
So I head back to our little beach-front room. I don't want him to sleep for very long either. Not after last time. And in the room, he's awake, barely. I think he heard me come in.
He's such a beautiful man. I can't make that point enough. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I unbutton my shirt and toss it to the side, moving to lie down with him. The look on his face as I do this, I must have totally surprised him. Oh well, the element of surprise has always been a key to our relationship. Even if it's changing focus, I won't lose that. I lie down on the bed and gently pull him into my arms. I need to feel him, hear his heartbeat, smell and touch his skin. His eyes shine a little, but close before he can betray anything. There's something incredibly comforting to me to have his head resting on my breast. It's not even sexual, just comforting. Something underlying is sexual, but it's not important right now.
And here we are, in Mexico, doing exactly what we were doing in the states. Lying in a bed, holding each other, not talking. I touch his back gently, my fingers running over his bruises. He shivers. I think I've finally found the amount of pressure I can apply without causing him more pain.
We'll be here a couple more days. After that, I don't know.
And the time we spend here, I can safely say, will mostly be spent in bed. I wish he was better . . .
Oh well, soon enough.
~~~~~
Jarod brushes his cheek over her chest softly, blinking his eyes open. It's dark again. He always seems to wake up when it's dark. He tightens his arm around her waist closes his eyes again, settling his cheek against her chest more comfortably. Miss Parker smiles a little, opening one eye. "Comfy?" she asks a little hoarsely.
Jarod rubs his cheek against her like a contended child. "Yes," he whispers.
Miss Parker nods a little, shutting her eye again. "How'd you sleep?"
Jarod swallows. "I passed out for almost three hours. I slept for about fifteen minutes every hour after that."
She chuckles softly. "I know. No bad dreams?"
"No dreams, period," he says in a low tone. "It's soothing and frightening at the same time when I don't dream."
"Well, it's one thing I've never really experienced. I wouldn't mind it right about now."
Jarod places a kiss against the top of her breast. "I wish for you to have a night of dreamless sleep then," he murmurs softly.
Miss Parker smiles a little and runs her hand through his hair. "Thanks. Probably gonna have to wait a few more days before I attempt that, but..."
"When was the last time you slept?" Jarod asks softly, a concerned note creeping into his voice.
Miss Parker licks her lips. "I think I passed out for about twenty minutes out of sheer exhaustion the night.. ." she sighs. "That I locked you back up. I haven't since then."
Jarod lets out a shaky breath and moves his head, kissing the skin between her breasts softly, then placing a gentle kiss against her collar bone. "You need to sleep," he whispers softly. "I know you can't, but you need to."
She nods a little, her hand tightening in his hair. "I know. There's just no way."
Jarod swallows and lays his head back down. "I love you Leslie," he whispers. "I love you and I'll do anything I can - anything you need."
"All I need is just you to do exactly what you've been doing. Just get better."
Jarod smiles a little, nodding, his cheek rubbing against her chest. "Yes Ma'am," he murmurs.
~~~~~
"We should go," Jarod murmurs, not moving his head away from her.
Miss Parker smiles a little. "Probably." She doesn't move either.
"Constant movement until we're settled somewhere is a must," he says in a knowledgeable tone.
Miss Parker nods her head. "Yes it is."
"So we should drive through Mexico and go up California like we planned," he says logically.
"That would probably be a very good idea," she says in a serious tone, a smile on her face.
"There's just one problem," Jarod says, furrowing his eyebrows.
Miss Parker raises an eyebrow. "Which one?"
"I have absolutely no inclination to move," he murmurs in a raspy voice, wrapping his arm tighter around her and nuzzling his cheek against her chest.
Miss Parker chuckles a little, moving on of her hands to his cheek. "Me either. I like this."
Jarod closes his eyes. "Like this hell. I've dreamed about this."
Miss Parker tilts her head a little to the side, considering the top of his head. "Oh? And how does it compare to the dream?"
"Well," he says slowly, "in the dream I'm not badly beaten."
Miss Parker shuts her eyes and feathers her fingertips lightly over his face. "I meant in feeling."
"In feeling?" he asks softly. He shrugs. "Isn't worth comparing," he says simply.
"I like that answer."
"I feel safe with you Leslie," he tells her softly. "I've never felt safe before in my life, but here lying with you. . . . I feel safe."
Miss Parker swallows hard. "You are," she says in a watery voice.
~~~~~
Two days later, the Mexico scenery was about to end as they approach the California border. Jarod looks up and glances at Miss Parker. "Pull into lane 3."
Miss Parker raises an eyebrow and does as he instructs. "Your little friend?" she asks in a condescending tone.
Jarod shrugs. "Something like that."
Miss Parker nods. "Okay. As long as you know what we're doing."
They pull to the booth and a woman peeks her head out. She smiles brightly. "Jarod!" she screeches. She flies out of the window and runs around the passenger side, opening the door and throwing her arms around him. "How are you?!"
Jarod smiles and hugs her back. "Fine Christie. How are you? How's the job working out?"
Christie shrugs. "Eh. Can't complain. It's work."
"Christie, this is Leslie. Leslie, Christie."
Miss Parker waves a finger at Christie. "Hi," she says in a pleasant tone laced with acid.
Christie waves her hand. "Hi," she says brightly. "It's always nice to meet any friend of Jarod's." She winks at Jarod. She narrows her eyes at him. "What happened to your face?" she asks in a concerned tone.
Jarod shrugs. "I ran into a door. Fell over. It was a nasty spill," he says simply.
Christie pouts. "Poor baby," she murmurs. She places a kiss on his cheek, then his forehead, then his eye. "What can I do?"
Jarod smiles gently. "You can let us through the border, no paperwork, no questions asked."
Christie quirks her lips. "I thought I was supposed to do the straight and narrow thing, Jarod," she reminds him gently.
Miss Parker sighs. "Would it kill you to not once?"
Jarod turns toward Miss Parker and narrows his eyes. "Being honest isn't a fault," he tells her with a 'mellow out' look and tone to his voice. He turns back to Christie. "However, I really need the help right now."
Christie sighs overly dramatic. "For you Jarod - anything." She places a quick kiss on his mouth, and turns, shutting the door and hopping back into her booth. She opens the gates. "Have a pleasant stay in sunnyCalifornia," she says brightly.
Miss Parker wraps her hands tightly around the steering wheel and drives through the gates, an acidic smile on her face directed at Christie. They get through the border and she turns her head a little to look at Jarod. "That was cute."
Jarod looks at her oddly. "You're jealous," he says in amazement. "I don't believe I've ever made someone jealous before."
Miss Parker's eyes narrow against the road. "It wasn't you," she murmurs.
"Well you shouldn't let Christie make you jealous," he murmurs softly. "First and foremost, as much as I love her, she's got nothing on you." He quirks his lips. "Not to mention the fact that I gave her away at her wedding."
Miss Parker chuckles a little ironically. "Good."
Jarod merely stares at her, smiling as they drive up the coast of California.
~~~~~
Jealous. She was jealous.
I laugh internally at the thought. I won't let myself laugh out loud. It could get me killed.
Why she would be jealous of Christie I can understand only from a logical detached point of view. Christie is a beautiful, intelligent young woman. Strawberry blonde hair, big doe eyes. It wasn't always that way. She'd been homeless - kicked out of her home by her parents after he'd gotten pregnant at eighteen. She'd been raising her daughter on the streets. I had found them, introduced them to a nice young man I'd met who was desperately looking for a reason to live, and given them all something to hold onto. I love Christie dearly. She's like a baby sister to watch over.
Why Leslie would ever - could ever - be jealous of anyone is beyond me. Other women don't exist to me. Once I kissed her I could never be happy with anything else. She gives me peace and safety and serenity. She is everything.
You can't very well be interested in another woman when your heart mind body and soul are tied up in a very neat little package with someone else. At least I can't. I love Leslie too much. Well, just enough. There's no such thing as too much where she's concerned.
My God I made her jealous. Well, not me, but whatever she feels for me made her jealous. It's powerful enough. Even if she doesn't love me, she at least wants me, feels possessive of me. And again, it's enough. That kind of protectiveness, possessiveness of me is enough.
It's more then I'd ever allowed myself to hope for.
~~~~~
Jarod pokes his head out the car window, smiling as his eyes focus on a small little bed and breakfast on the beach just outside San Diego. "Can we stop there?" he asks, looking over at Miss Parker.
Miss Parker glances in the direction he's looking. "Sure, why not?" Sheslows the car down and stops it by the B&B.
Jarod opens his door and steps out, stretching his body, groaning a little at the tightness in his back. Miss Parker climbs out of the car and looks around a little. "Hmm. . . . this is kind of nice, actually." Jarod nods. "It is. It's gorgeous." He walks toward the managers office.
"Could I have a room for the night please?" he asks pleasantly.
Ten minutes later, they are ensconced in a ocean view room. Jarod walks over to the window, opens the sliding glass door, keeping the screen shut. He heads over to the bed and lays down, letting out a sigh of contentment. Miss Parker smiles at him. "Comfortable?"
Jarod nods slowly. "Very," he murmurs in a raspy rough voice.
Miss Parker sits down on the side of the bed. "So now what?"
Jarod shrugs, his face buried in a pillow. "Dunno," he says slowly. "What do you want to do?"
Miss Parker shrugs and lightly runs her hand over his shoulder. "I have no clue. How are you feeling?"
"Better," Jarod says softly. "Like see what you're doing there? That doesn't even hurt."
A small smile crosses Miss Parker's face. "It's about time."
Jarod sits up and wraps both arms around her waist, hauling her down next to him. He places a kiss on her cheek and just holds her. She wraps her arms gently around his back and leans her head against his. She smiles. "This feels good."
Jarod nods, running his hands slowly up and down her back. "Yeah. Taking liberties is fun."
Miss Parker chuckles a little. "I'm glad you're taking them."
"I wish I could take more," he murmurs. "I wish I could take whatever you'd allow. But right now I doubt anything that happened would be very good for you."
Miss Parker smiles and kisses his forehead. "I can wait till you're feeling better."
"Oh I'm feeling better," he says with a smile. "I just don't have very much energy."
Miss Parker runs her hand up and down his back gently. "How much pain are you in?"
Jarod quirks his lips. "My ribs are a little . . . tender. And . . . my back is still a little sore . . . certain areas on my legs still sting . . . but other then that . . . I'm feeling much better."
Miss Parker grins and kisses his ear lobe. "You can be on top," she whispers.
Jarod chuckles and runs his hands over her lower back. "Are you sure?" he asks carefully.
Miss Parker raises an eyebrow. "Do I usually suggest things when I'm not?"
Jarod shakes his head a little. "No, but. . . I just want to make sure you're not teasing me," he says in a voice that's a cross between an unsure little boy and a confident man.
Miss Parker smiles and leans over, kissing his lips softly. "I'm not teasing you Jarod. I want to make love to you."
Jarod kisses her back and runs his hand over her cheek. He rolls a little so he's propped on one elbow, and she's lying on her back. He runs his hand from her cheek to her neck, then down her arm, to her hip, them moving back up her sides, trailing his fingers over her ribs. Miss Parker moves her hands to the front of Jarod's shirt and unbuttons it, slipping her fingers inside and running them over his chest. She smiles at him. "Just let me know if anything hurts, okay?"
Jarod nods a little. "I will," he promises softly, running his hand to the front of her shirt and slowly undoing each button, one by one. After studiously undoing twenty-three buttons, Jarod parts her shirt and lays his head down, placing a kiss against her chest, moving down between her breasts, then brushing his lips over her stomach, placing small kisses around her belly button. Miss Parker tangles her fingers in Jarod's hair. She shuts her eyes for a moment. Her other hand runs down under his neck, down his arm and up his back. Jarod flicks his tongue out, licking the skin of her stomach lightly, then moving to her ribs,
tracing each one with his tongue, sucking and biting lightly at her skin. Small moans come from deep in Miss Parker's throat. She moves both of her hands to his shoulders under his shirt and pushes the material down his arms as far as she can reach. Jarod moves his arms, never taking his mouth from her and shrugs out of his shirt.
He trails his mouth to the front clasp of her bra and undoes it with his teeth. He kisses the skin between her breasts, grazing his teeth along it lightly, then licking over it with his tongue. Miss Parker's back arches slightly against him. She runs one of her hands up into his hair.
Her other hand trails lightly up and down his back. Jarod moves his cheek, brushing it over the cups of her bra, moving them aside. He places soft kisses along her breasts, moving his tongue underneath them, then around the nipple, never quite touching it. Miss Parker groans a little and tightens her hand in his hair. She looks down at him, her eyes a little glazed over. "Jarod," she whines.
"What?" he mumbles, nuzzling the side of her breast with his cheek, his mouth still placing soft kisses in between her breasts.
Miss Parker tightens her hand a little more in his hair and pulls his head up so she can look at him. "And you were worried I was teasing you?"
Jarod grins at her. "Yes, I was," he murmurs softly, kissing her lips gently. "However, there's a difference between verbal teasing and physical teasing." He trails his mouth down her throat, sucking at the hollow, then moving his mouth to her collar bone, running his tongue over the tops of her breasts.
Miss Parker smiles and lets out a soft moan. "True," she murmurs, running her hands down his sides to the waist band of his pants. She runs her fingers under the material against his skin to the front and unbuttons them, slipping her hand inside and cupping his erection.
Jarod lets out a gasp and runs his hands down to hers, covering them. He looks at her. "No energy, no stamina," he tells her softly. "Stop that." He removes her hands from his pants and places them on his shoulders. He leans his head back down and licks at the sides of her breasts.
Miss Parker chuckles and runs her hands back down his sides and back around his back. She slides them under his pants, cupping his ass. Jarod sighs. "Better," he mutters, moving his mouth over one of her nipples, taking it inside and sucking it, hard, laving it with his tongue. Miss Parker lets out a loud moan. She arches her back against his mouth. Jarod runs his hand up her sides to cup her other breast, moving his hand so her nipple grazes the center of his palm. He continues to suck on her other nipple, his teeth gently grazing it, rubbing it between them, his tongue moving over it.
Miss Parker's breathing becomes shallow and labored. She moves her hands from his ass to the side of his hips, sliding his jeans and underwear down as far as her hands can reach. She lifts one of her feet and hooks her toes around the waist band, easing them back down his legs. Jarod releases her nipple from his mouth and moves his head down to her stomach, still trailing his mouth over her skin. His other hand comes up and cups her other breast, both his hands moving over her as his mouth
encounters the waist of her skirt. He runs his tongue underneath the waist band, then moves his head to the side, finding the zipper on the skirt and taking it between his teeth, pulling it down as far as it would go. He moves his head back around to her other side, repeating the same motion with the other zipper. He moves his head to the loose material on the front of her stomach, taking it in his teeth and pulling it down to her hips. Miss Parker sucks in a breath and lifts her head, looking at Jarod.
"Where did you learn how to do that?" she mutters, slightly breathlessly. Jarod shrugs, running his mouth to the waist band on her panties, taking it between his teeth and snapping it lightly. "Just now," he murmurs. His hands continue massaging her breasts gently.
Miss Parker moves her hands to her skirt and underwear and pushes them down her hips, kicking her legs gently to get them off. She moves her hands back up to his head and strokes his hair gently. Jarod moves his head down and places a soft kiss against her thigh, then moves down to her inner thigh, darting his tongue out and licking small circles along the skin. He moves his hands away from her breasts and runs them down her thighs, parting them and leaning his head down, licking her clit softly. Miss Parker lets out a quiet scream, tightening her hands in his hair again. Jarod licks his tongue along her clit gently, then moves down a little, slipping it just inside her, then out, moving back up and flicking it over her clit again. Miss Parker digs her heels into the mattress, biting her lower lip and leaning her head back into the pillows as far as she can. She moans on every short exhale of breath. Jarod takes her clit into his mouth and sucks on it gently, then grazes his teeth along it, his tongue coming out and licking over it again. He moves his mouth down and slips his tongue inside her as far as he can, his mouth moving and fastening, sucking. He runs his hand from her thigh between her legs, rubbing his thumb over her clit while his tongue moves
inside her and his mouth continues sucking.
Miss Parker tosses her head from side to side lightly. Her body tenses as she starts to come, a quiet scream leaving her mouth. Jarod continues to suck at her for a moment, then moves his tongue out, and simply licks and laps at her. His thumb brushes over her clit a couple more times, then his mouth replaces it, sucking lightly at first, then his tongue coming out to lick long, slow hard strokes. Miss Parker's entire body shudders, her hands tighten in his hair again. She moans his name continuously. Jarod continues to lick at her until her body relaxes. He places a kiss against her clit and moves his head up again, brushing his lips over her stomach, placing them around one of her nipples, licking it lightly, then moving back up to her collar bone, sucking and biting at her skin, his tongue wandering up to her throat, laving it, biting at the chords in her neck. Miss Parker licks her lips, trying to catch her breath. She runs her hands down his sides to his hips and around the front, her fingers wrapping around his erection.
Jarod lets out a groan and places his mouth over hers, kissing her hard, running his tongue into her mouth. She kisses him back, her tongue running over his and his mouth. She moves one of her hands to his balls, cupping them. Jarod kisses her harder, running his hands up and down her sides, cupping a breast, then moving again under her back, holding her against him. He runs both hands to hers, pulling her away and twining their fingers together. He lays between her legs and pulls her hands above her head. He kisses her slowly, lingeringly. Miss Parker kisses him back and brings her knees up, tightening them slightly around his
hips. Jarod slowly slips inside her, placing his mouth against her ear. "I love you Leslie," he whispers in a hoarse, raspy voice, pulling out of her excruciatingly slowly, then sliding back in.
Miss Parker groans and tries to thrust her hips against his. Jarod moves again, pulling almost completely out of her, then slamming in, hard. He moves his head to her neck and licks at her shoulders, biting softly, his fingers still twined with hers against the bed. Miss Parker tosses her head back and wraps one of her legs around his hips. She moans loudly, moving her hips against his. Jarod thrusts into her as far as he can, then moves his hips against hers in fast, hard rhythm. Miss Parker places kisses along his forehead, down the side of his face. She tightens her leg a little around his hips, lifting hers almost completely off the bed. Jarod releases one of her hands, running his down her side under her lower back, holding her against him tightly. He continues to thrust, harder, faster, whispering her name into her ear. Miss Parker's newly free hand runs down Jarod's back, her fingertips tracing small patterns on his skin. She tightens her entire body around his.
Jarod runs his lips up her jaw to her ear, sucking on the earlobe, then dipping his tongue inside. "Come for me Leslie," he whispers huskily. "Scream for me."
Miss Parker shuts her eyes tightly for a moment as she feels her orgasm building. She opens her eyes and turns her head a little, staring into Jarod's. She tightens her body more and lets go, her orgasm running through her. She leans her head back, letting out a scream. Jarod lays his head in the crook of her neck and thrusts into her harder, faster, whispering her name like a prayer, over and over. He lets out a low groan as his orgasm runs through his body. He continues to thrust into her as hard as he can. Miss Parker gently wraps her arm around his back and she kisses his temple gently. "So much for a lack of stamina," she
murmurs softly.
Jarod's body relaxes against hers and he lays his head on her shoulder. He places a kiss against her neck. "Sorry," he murmurs sincerely. "I said I was tired."
Miss Parker chuckles huskily. "I'm not complaining."
Jarod wraps his arm around her waist, his cheek settling into the crook between her breasts. "Love you Leslie," he murmurs. "I have to sleep now."
Miss Parker lifts her head and kisses the top of his. "Okay. Sweet dreams."
"Mmhhmm," he murmurs, rubbing his cheek against her skin softly and tightening his hand around her waist.
~~~~
That was . . . holy shit, that was cosmic.
Cosmic? Yep, cosmic. Amazing, incredible, absofuckinglutly cosmic.
I've never felt that way with another person. I've never come so hard, never felt so connected . . . god, was it just the build-up, the days of sleeping together, lying together, touching each other? Can't be, there was too much there. Who would've thought that I'd be feeling like this about Jarod? I'd hoped, but never really thought it could happen. But lying here, him asleep in my arms, his scent on my skin, I realize it did.
Damn it all to hell, I love him. Yes Jarod, I love you.
That thought changes so much in my head. Yet it changes nothing in the grand scheme of things, it doesn't do anything to our relationship . . . he would have stayed, slept in my bed, made love to me, even without the words ever coming into play from my end. But now that doesn't have to happen.
I want to wake him up, just to tell him, but I know how much he needs to sleep. So that gives me time to figure out how I want to say it.
I know, I know . . . just *say* it, say 'Jarod, I love you.' Not good enough. Not me enough. Just not enough. I'm so fucking insane. I'm obsessing over how to tell someone I love them. The perfectionist in me is way too loud for my tastes right now.
But that's okay, it gives me something to think about. Something other than the feel of his body against mine, moving and kissing my skin, his tongue and lips working on my clit, his cock in my hand . . . see? I just want to wake him up and make love again. I really need to re-focus.
I love you Jarod.
Ahh, better. Not that I think he'd object to waking up any of the number of ways I have in my head, I want to give him some more time to sleep. He says he's feeling better, but I know he's still in pain, still sore and hurting and the cut on his chest still bleeds a little when I change the bandages. So I'll let him rest. And figure out how to tell the man I love that I love him.
~~~~~
Jarod moves his head against her stomach, his cheek rubbing lightly against her skin. His arms are wrapped around and under her back. He blinks his eyes open slowly and glances at the clock. It's midnight. They'd been in bed for almost twelve hours. He smiles, lying his head back down on her stomach and listening to her breathe. He could tell she was asleep by the exact rate of her breaths and he was glad, happy she was finally sleeping. Sighing in contentment, Jarod lays his head down on her shoulder, placing a kiss to her collar bone. He closes his eyes and lets himself drift back to sleep.
A few minutes later, Miss Parker turns her head a little on the pillow and opens her eyes. She smiles at Jarod's sleeping face and glances over at the clock, which now reads twelve fifteen. She turns her head back to Jarod's and kisses his forehead softly. She runs her hand down his side to his hip, a small mischievous smile crossing her face. She lifts her hand to his penis, her fingers stroking it gently. She very carefully rolls him onto his back on the mattress and moves down the bed. She
lowers her head down to his penis, taking the tip of it into her mouth and sucking gently. Jarod moans a little in his sleep, bringing a hand down and running it through her hair. Miss Parker moves her mouth more, her tongue stroking his growing erection with long strokes. Jarod lets out a groan, his other hand moving to her hair, all ten fingers massaging her scalp in small circles.
Miss Parker takes as much of him into her mouth as she can, sucking. One of her hands comes up, cupping his balls. The tip of her tongue runs down the length of his shaft and up to the top, swirling around. Jarod arches his hips off the bed a little and takes as deep a breath as he can, his eyes remaining shut. Miss Parker bobs her head up and down over his erection, moving to take just the tip and a couple of inches into her mouth. She wraps her other hand around the base of his shaft, her tongue running in small circles over the sensitive head. Jarod lets out a series of whimpers, keeping his fingers tight against her scalp,
fully awake now. Miss Parker continues sucking the tip of his erection, hollowing her cheeks out and sucking harder. She works her hand over the rest of his shaft, massaging gently. Jarod wraps his fingers through her hair and tugs her head a little, urging her up. Miss Parker shakes her head a little, keeping him in her mouth. Jarod leans his head back further on the pillow, letting out a cross between a sigh and a groan.
She lowers her mouth a little more over his erection, still sucking and runs her tongue over his erection with long strokes. Jarod moves one hand out of her hair to the sheets, clutching and unclutching. He groans her name, sighing it every time he exhales. Miss Parker continues her ministrations. Jarod lifts his hips off the bed, his entire body tensing, his orgasm building. He lets out a groan, tightening his hand in her hair, his fist around the sheets as he comes, hard. Miss Parker holds him in her mouth, still sucking gently until she feels his body start to relax. She lifts her head and smiles up at him. "Hi."
Jarod swallows deeply and opens one eye. "Hi," he says in a low, raspy voice. He closes his eyes again.
Miss Parker chuckles a little. She crawls back up the bed so that her head is level with his and leans down, kissing him hard. Jarod runs one hand down her spine, the other on the back of her head, holding her against him. He kisses her back, equally hard, running his tongue along her lips. Miss Parker smiles against his mouth and kisses him back for a moment. She lifts her head and smiles down at him. "How are you doing?"
Jarod raises an eyebrow, keeping his eyes closed. "I just had the best dream," he murmurs.
She raises an eyebrow, chuckling a little. "You sure it was a dream?"
"Oh, had to have been," he says confidently. "Nothing real could be that good."
Miss Parker smiles gently and kisses his forehead. "Oh, up until about fifteen hours ago I would've agreed with you."
Jarod runs his hands down to her hips, flipping her over onto her back. He opens his eyes, his face hovering over hers. He places a soft kiss against her forehead, her cheek bones. "You are so right," he murmurs.
Miss Parker quirks her lips a little. "I usually am."
Jarod runs his hand down her to her hip, slips it between her legs and slips a finger inside her. He moves his head down to her ear, biting the lobe gently. "I'll remember that," he whispers.
Miss Parker moans softly and turns her head, kissing his lips. "You do that."
Jarod leans his mouth down, taking one of her nipples in his mouth, then between his teeth, rubbing it softly, biting, then darting his tongue out, licking it. He slips a second finger inside her and strokes her gently. Miss Parker shuts her eyes, biting her lower lip. She moans a little louder and brings one of her hands up to the back of his head, tangling her fingers in his hair. Jarod releases her nipple, moving to her other breast, licking her nipple once, lightly, then doing it again, faster, working his tongue over it impossibly fast. His thumb moves up to her clit, rubbing it as his fingers thrust in and out of her.
Miss Parker moans almost continuously. She tosses her head back and forth on the pillow. Her hand tightens in his hair and she spreads her legs a little wider, giving his hand better access. Jarod places his mouth around her nipple, sucking on it, continuing to move his tongue over it fast, hard strokes. He rubs his thumb over her clit harder, faster, slipping a third finger inside her and thrusting hard, fast. Miss Parker thrusts her hips up to his hand as she lets out a quiet scream as her body trembles, her orgasm running through her. Jarod nibbles at her nipple, continuing to thrust his hand, his thumb massaging her clit. Miss Parker's head rolls back deeply into the pillow, soft cries coming from deep in her throat. She continues to tremble, her orgasm prolonging. Jarod continues to lick her nipple, rub her clit and move his fingers gently in and out of her until her trembling ceases and her breathing becomes deeper. He slowly moves his lips up to her throat, sucking on the pulse there, then moving to her lips, kissing her slowly, lingeringly.
Miss Parker kisses him back, her hand stroking his hair gently. She
moves her head a little and smiles at him. "I could wake up like this. . . . all the time."
Jarod smiles shakily at her and kisses her cheek, her ear. "Me too," he whispers. "God," he says on a sigh. "Do you have any idea how much just touching you turns me on?"
Miss Parker smiles a little mischievously. "Probably."
Jarod chuckles and sucks her earlobe into his mouth, nibbling on the end of it. He moves both his hands to either side of her hips, massaging softly. "Hey Leslie," he whispers. "You want to be on top?"
Miss Parker chuckles. "Sure, why not?"
Jarod holds on tightly to her hips and turns, lying on his back, lifting her on top of him. Miss Parker wraps her arms around Jarod's neck and leans down, kissing him gently. Jarod runs his hands from her lower back to her shoulders, touching the line of her spine only with his fingertips, feather light. Miss Parker shivers a little. "That tickles."
Jarod repeats the motion and moves his head to her ear. "Want me to stop?" he breathes, blowing into her ear.
Miss Parker shakes her head. "No."
Jarod continues to run his hands up and down her back in the same maddening way. Miss Parker lowers her head, running her lips down his throat. She sucks gently on the pulse at the base of his neck. Jarod leans his head back into the pillow, arching his neck into her mouth. He runs his hand up her back again, tangling it in the hair at the side of her head, his other hand still running his fingers over her spine. Miss Parker runs one of her hands down his chest. She runs her fingers over his erection and carefully plants her knees on either side of his hips. She lifts her head and smiles a little invitingly at Jarod. Jarod removes his hand from her hair and runs both his down to her hips, holding them above him. He lifts his hips and slips the tip of his erection inside her, holding her just above him. He slowly moves just the tip, in and out.
Miss Parker groans a little in frustration and tries to lower her hips down against his. Jarod smiles at her, keeping her where she is. He continues to move slowly, still just stroking her with the tip of his erection. Miss Parker leans her head forward, her forehead resting against his chest. "You are so evil," she murmurs.
Jarod chuckles, low in his throat, continuing his ministrations. "Complaints?" he murmurs.
She shakes her head, her forehead still resting on his chest. "No. You're just evil."
Jarod grins and suddenly thrusts his hips up, going as deeply as he can inside her. He pulls out again, and slams in, hard, repeating the motion. Miss Parker raises her head and smiles down at him. She places soft kisses all over his face and tightens her knees around his hips. "Better," she murmurs, a little breathlessly.
Jarod smiles, kissing her face and keeping a firm hold on her hips. He moves her hips up and down on him, thrusting into her, slow, hard strokes. Miss Parker moans against the side of his face. She runs her hands up his arms, her fingers gently curling over his shoulders. Jarod leans his head up, taking one of her nipples in his mouth and licking at it, sucking gently. He digs his fingers into her hips, moving her faster, thrusting faster, harder. Miss Parker tenses and leans her head down against his shoulder. She moans his name loudly, her body shuddering a little with the beginnings of her orgasm. Jarod keeps one hand firmly planted on her hip, the other moving between her legs, and rubbing her clit, hard, fast in time with his strokes. He thrusts faster into her, and slams into as hard as he can. Miss Parker screams into his shoulder, her orgasm hitting full force. Jarod continues to pump into her, harder and faster, his own body tensing, his orgasm building. He rubs his thumb over her clit even faster, harder as he feels himself coming.
Miss Parker wraps her arms back around his shoulders, holding onto him tightly. She places soft kisses against his shoulder. Jarod's body relaxes and he sags into the bed. He moves his hands to her back again, rubbing circles along her spine and breathing deeply and raggedly. Miss Parker lifts her head and kisses his lips gently. She grins at him a little. "You're getting better at that."
Jarod quirks one side of his lips up. "I'm more rested," he murmurs.
Miss Parker smiles softly and kisses his forehead. "Well, I can't wait to see what surprises you have in store when you're completely feeling better."
"Sweetheart," he murmurs, lifting his head and kissing her lips softly. "I'll bend your mind."
~~~~~
I had the most amazing dream.
No, not that. Although that was incredible. The dream I had was simpler.
Much more basic. As if there is anything more basic then *that*. It was Leslie. And me.
And a baby.
Our baby.
We were lying in bed, Leslie lying on my chest, the baby in the crook of her arm against my stomach. The dream was nothing but what I was feeling at that moment. It brings tears to my eyes just thinking about it. The peace. The joy. The absolute love that filled me then. And I wanted it.
I want it. Bad.
And then the dream changed. I wasn't sure why until I woke up. The things that woman can do with her mouth. . . . God I'd ask her where she learned it if I thought I really wanted the answer. Which I don't. I'm not by nature a jealous person, but I'd just as soon keep the images of other men who were completely unworthy of her out of my mind. Not that I'm worthy in my mind. But I figure no one on earth deserves her, so I might as well have her. Mostly because I'll treat her the way she needs to be treated. The way she deserves to. Like a cross between a Princess and a Playmate. Odd combination, maybe, but quintessential
Leslie Parker.
She blows my mind. When I look at her, when I touch her, when I breathe her in she tears everything I've ever known about male female relations into little pieces. She is wind and fire and rain and she burns and cleanses my every fiber - my mind, my body my soul. And she absolutely fucking rocks my world.
I am lucky. So very lucky. And not just now. Then. If someone told me I could have it all back - my entire life - No being kidnapped at six, no losing my parents, no being locked in the Centre - if only I'd give up knowing her all my life. If only I'd give up the last week with her, sleeping with her, resting with her, making love with her - I would turn them down. Because it wouldn't be worth it. Any normal, semi-happy life would be meaningless without her. And that is truly how I know that I love her.
Because I would do it all over again - the tests, the beatings, the mind fucks, the humiliation, all of it - to experience this last week with her.
Once, about ten years ago, I had the most amazing dream.
Tonight I feel as though it's finally come true.
~~~~~
Sunlight streams through a crack in the curtains hitting Miss Parker in the face. She groans and turns her head to the side, opening her eyes. She looks at the clock. It's one forty-five. She sighs and turns her head to look at Jarod, who's still asleep. She smiles at him and runs her hand down his cheek, leaning over and kissing his forehead. "Hey Jarod. Wake up baby."
Jarod blinks his eyes open slowly, looking at her for a moment, a wide smile breaking out over his face. "She called me baby," he murmurs to himself, kissing her cheek softly.
Miss Parker chuckles. "I hate to wake up, but we really should decide what we're doing. We were supposed to check out an hour ago."
Jarod holds up a finger and grabs the phone, dialing the front desk. "Hello, this is Mr. Knowels in room 12. We'd like to extend our stay until tomorrow." He smiles. "Thank you." He hangs up the phone and turns back to her, wrapping his arms around her waist and placing a soft kiss against her lips. "I just bought us another day."
"Literally," Miss Parker says, snickering a little. She leans her forehead against his. "So what are we doing after tomorrow?"
Jarod shrugs. "Whatever we want to do?" he asks. "With the money Sydney put in there. ... we can do just about anything."
Miss Parker smiles. "We really should thank him for that."
Jarod nods. "As soon as I get another secure cell phone and I'm sure we're safe, I intend to get Sydney out of the Centre. Angelo too." He sighs. "Hell, let's just take a cue from Syd and blow the place to Kingdom Come."
Miss Parker quirks her lips a little and nods. "Okay. Just make sure Broots is outta there too."
Jarod nods. "Broots, Sydney and anyone who's there against their will - out. Everyone else - in." He nods once, sharply. "Is good?"
Miss Parker laughs. "God I love the way your mind works."
Jarod chuckles, hugging her against him. "The feeling, I assure you, is mutual," he murmurs, running his lips over her hairline.
Miss Parker smiles. "Good. So what are we doing with the rest of the day?"Jarod shrugs. "Whatever you like, my love," he whispers softly. "We're by the ocean. . . so we can go for a swim. . . or we can spend the day in bed. . . or we could go for a walk. . . explore San Diego. ." he smiles gently. "Whatever your heart desires."
Miss Parker kisses the tip of his nose and smiles softly. "All my heart desires right now is to be with you. So I guess I'm really not qualified to make that decision. What do you want to do?"
Jarod sighs. "You won't want to do what I want to do," he murmurs. "It's. . . boring."
Miss Parker raises an eyebrow. "Try me. At least tell me."
Jarod looks at her carefully. "I want to lie in bed and order movies off of pay-per view with you all day long. I just want to hold your body against mine, feel you, touch you, taste you. . . I want to know you like the back of my hand. Order room service and just. . . . . be for awhile," he finishes in a low voice that rasps against the still air like sandpaper.
Miss Parker grins. "That doesn't sound boring."
Jarod smiles gently and leans his head against hers. "I was hoping you'd say that," he murmurs.
Miss Parker wraps her arm around his back. "Anything that gives me an excuse to touch you is fine with me."
Jarod chuckles a little. "My dear, dear Miss Parker," he says in the most affectionate of tones, "you never require an excuse to touch me."
"I'll remember that," she murmurs, running her lips across his forehead.
Jarod leans over her, his cheek resting against her neck as he grabs for the remote on the night stand. He flips the TV on and calls up the movie menu. "What'll it be? Comedy? Drama? Thriller? Horror? Romance?"
Miss Parker shrugs. "I don't care. I don't think I've seen any of the movies that there are in that little list, so whatever looks good."
Jarod considers the screen. "Well. .. . I haven't seen anything on there but 'The X-Files Movie'.. ." he trails off. "Just pick a title."
Miss Parker eyes the list carefully. She sighs a little and grabs the remote out of his hand randomly flipping on a movie. She smiles. "I didn't care."
Jarod shrugs. "That's fine." He takes the remote and tosses it to the floor. He wraps his arms back around her and leans his head back on the pillow, looking at the TV. "You have no idea, right?" he asks, turning his head to look at the screen.
Miss Parker leans her head against his shoulder. "Nope."
"Then I guess we'll find out together," he murmurs, kissing her forehead. "And after today. . . we'll figure out where we're going
together, too."
Miss Parker nods, her eyes focused above the television. "Sounds good."
Jarod leans down, kissing her cheek softly. "Is something wrong?" he murmurs. "I feel. . . . something coming off you."
Miss Parker shakes her head a little, her eyes still focused on the wall. "Nothing's wrong," she murmurs softly.
Jarod looks at her carefully. "Okay. .. then is something on your mind?" he asks in a very soft voice, trailing his fingers over her shoulder blades.
"I was just thinking," she begins, a little distractedly. "About what you've done to my life."
Jarod smiles a little. "What have I done?" he asks curiously, a little baffled.
Miss Parker widens her eyes a little, consideringly. "You've successfully made me reconsider every decision and belief that I had. You've forced me to look at things that were probably going to stay buried otherwise. You've reminded me that it's okay to be happy occasionally."
"It's okay to be happy all the time," he interrupts softly.
She smiles a little, her eyes still focused on the other side of the room. "And damnit Jarod, you made me fall in love with you."
Jarod shuts his eyes and catches his breath. He swallows once, then runs his hand to her cheek, cupping it and pressing his lips against the side of her face. "Glad to be of service," he whispers in a watery voice.
Miss Parker turns her head, focusing her eyes on his face. "I do love you," she murmurs. "It took me awhile to remember how, but I did, and I do."
"I love you too Leslie," he whispers as steadily as he's capable. "And I am so very, very happy that you did. And that you do."
Miss Parker smiles a little and kisses his lips gently. "I kind of figured that out last night. Just took me awhile to figure out how to
tell you."
Jarod smiles, and laughs a bit unsteadily. "I love you would've worked just fine," he murmurs.
Miss Parker sighs a little unsteadily. "I guess I just didn't want it to sound totally contrived because it was thrown out in the middle of sex."
Jarod smiles gently and runs his fingers down her cheek softly. "For some people, that may be true," he murmurs softly. "But when have you ever said something like that that you didn't meant?" He shakes his head. "You're not the type to blurt something out in a moment like that unless it's true. And as long as it's true, Leslie, I don't care when or how I hear it. As long as it's from you."
Miss Parker smiles a little. "I'll remember that. And I won't worry about it from now on. I've said it. It was the first time that was the hard part."
Jarod leans his head down to her ear and whispers softly. "I know this may sound a little childish, but would you mind saying it again?"
Miss Parker leans her head against his. She presses her lips against his ear. "I love you Jarod," she whispers softly. "I love you with everything in me."
Jarod takes a deep, shuddering breath. He moves his head, pressing his forehead against hers. He wraps his arms around her back and holds her against him tightly. "I know," he whispers finally. "I think I've always known."
Miss Parker kisses him gently. She wraps her arms around his back and rests her head on his shoulder. She shuts her eyes for a moment when a voice from the TV distracts her. "What the hell are we doing watching a Jim Carey movie?" she asks in an outraged, shocked tone.
Jarod shakes his head. "No. . . . this is 'The Truman Show.' The other movie I saw," he says, a small smile on his face. "You might say I. .. identified with the lead character."
Miss Parker glances at the screen for a moment then back at Jarod. "Oh, right, this movie."
Jarod raises an eyebrow. "You've seen it?"
She shakes her head. "No. I didn't think I could sit through it. Not in a movie theater." She sighs a little. "A little too close to home for me."
Jarod smiles softly. "It does hit a bit too close at times," he murmurs.
"But. . . the end. . . God the end gives you hope," he whispers.
Miss Parker snuggles into his arms a little, her eyes drifting back to the TV. "Okay. I guess I'll give it a try then."
Jarod leans his head on top of hers. "Good. I think you'll really enjoy it," he murmurs softly.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
