Legacy

“The true casualties of war are always the innocent,” Jarod stated calmly.

“War. Is that what this is? He had four children and a wife. I just can't help but feel responsible.” And it was true, as much as any of her feelings made sense these past few days.

“We're all responsible. But not for this. This is the brake line from Miller's car. It was cut. Deliberately.”

“Someone sabotaged it?”

“Ron Miller was a good cop. He was just trying to find the truth behind Thomas' murder. That's why he and Dawson were silenced. So that ...”

“So that no tracks would lead back to the Centre.”

“That is what they do. They kill anyone who's remotely interested in the truth. And then they take away the people that we love the most.”

“Why?” Miss Parker asked tiredly.

“To control us. To use us to do their dirty work. For me it was my parents, my brother. For you, your mother. And now Thomas. You ever wonder how a man in prison got his hands on pharmaceutical grade morphine? I do.”

“How do I stop them?”

“With the truth.”

“You were in a car accident, Jarod. You’ve been in coma for the past two weeks”

For one brief, eternal moment Jarod could only stare at Sydney while the words echoed inside his mind. He knew it was a lie.But he couldn’t find anything in his mentor’s body language to help him. He closed his eyes, focusing on the last memory he had of Parker as they made love in front of the fireplace. He had tangible memories of the way her skin tasted when he kissed her, of the warmth of the fire on his own skin, the way her body moved with his…

A touch on his arm shocked him back to the present. Sydney was watching him, with something close to concern in his eyes. Jarod shifted under his scrutiny while surreptitiously glancing across the bed at Parker. Something was dreadfully wrong. Her body language screamed Daddy’s girl. Ice Queen. Huntress. Not at all the picture of what he remembered of her when he had left her in the house and prayed she got away. How long ago was that? A day? A week?

He snapped his eyes back to Sydney and said, “That’s a lie, Sydney and you know it.” Sydney didn’t say anything, didn’t defend his statement. Like he didn’t need to? Squashing the feeling of dread that was leaving a hole in his stomach, he turned his gaze back to Parker. He didn’t care that Lyle was in the room, or for that matter that the Centre was once again recording all he was doing for their posterity.

“You know what we have. Don’t let Lyle or the Centre take that away from us. Don’t let them win. We can beat this, you just have to trust me, please Parker.”

It sounded desperate, like a drowning man grasping at straws. Not the way he had envisioned the words to come out.

I’ll protect you. He thought silently and at the same time wondered how. He didn’t want to think about the possibility that he has already failed her.

“I don’t know what you think happened between us, Jarod,” she said softly, pity mirrored in her eyes, belying the harshness of her next words, “but we have nothing and never will. The last time we met you tried to do a Houdini except you didn’t reckon on the car that hit you at 30 miles an hour. You barely survived. As soon as you were stabilised you were brought back to the Centre where you’ve been in a coma for two weeks. Nothing sinister in any of these events, Jarod”

Each word sliced into his soul and left him bleeding and numb. He had expected defiance, lit into twin fires as she stood against Lyle and the Centre. All he got was more Centre lies.

“That’s not what happened,” he whispered forcefully.

“What is it you think happened Jarod because I’m sure as hell clueless? Is this some kind of sick fantasy that I’m supposed to be part of? Well, I’m not playing.”

“This is no game, Parker,” Jarod said solemnly, eyes only for her. “You mean to tell me that this is still November and my memories are all just my imagination?” And as he asked it, he wondered why he bothered. But he had to try, had to search for a glimmer of acknowledgement in her eyes that they shared the same recollections and that the Centre was just once again playing mind games with him.

All I need is one clue, Parker. Just one. Please…….

“It’s December, rat boy and I still have no idea what memories you’re talking about.” Her eyes met Sydney. “Are you sure his brain wasn’t scrambled in the accident, Syd?”

“The MRI did not indicate any damage to his hippocampus or left parietal lobe. It appeared that his short and long term memory were intact. But it’s not uncommon for coma patients to create memories to fill in the lapse and then believe that they were real. It’s a defence mechanism to cope with the anxiety of having a discrete passage of time without control over it.”

It was the way Sydney said it. Like he was just another subject to study, to analyze, nothing special. That he didn’t matter to Sydney, that their relationship was anything but strictly mentor and student. The familiar feeling of dealing with Sydney’s indifference made him choke out his denial and the fact that his memories are real.

“Jarod.” Sydney admonished, pushing the pretender back down on his pillows. “We’ll talk about this later. You’ve only just woken and coming out of a coma is traumatic for anyone – including you.”

Jarod ignored Sydney. Ignored Lyle who had stood silently gloating through it all. He focused all his energy and attention on her. He caught her wrist in his hand and before she had time to resist, he pulled her down, her ear beside his mouth.

“I know what’s real.”

She didn’t acknowledge his words, didn’t indicate that she had even heard him. She yanked her hand out of his grip and straightened, her eyes darkening in anger; an emotion that he was so familiar with. Try as he might, he could see nothing of what they had shared in her eyes. And insidiously, he wasn’t so sure anymore. But he had been so certain. Could his memories really be the result of projection? Dreams he created in his mind? Or not?

“Jarod, just let it go,” Miss Parker stated quietly. It was the way she said it that finally slipped through his defences. He felt tears burning behind his eyes, as a hole the size of his heart was carved into his chest. He didn’t want to believe, didn’t want to see her like this. Not like this

A strange mix of confusion and fear washed through Jarod, as he looked at Sydney and back again at Parker. He started to protest once more, but a firm hand from Sydney and he subsided, almost visibly deflating against the pillows. He watched silently as Parker left with Lyle, not even giving him a backwards glance. This can’t be happening.

And then he was alone with Sydney. Deeply sighing, he turned his back on Sydney and on the camera and curled up. After his mentor called his name for a second time, he tiredly told him that he wanted to be left alone.

He was paralysed by the thought that all that he had experienced was a lie. That Sydney and Parker had spoken the truth. That all his memories of them was as insubstantial as ghosts.

She had never hated herself more than at the moment she had stood by Jarod’s bed and had told him in so many words to back off. As they were in the hallway, Lyle had grabbed her arm and gave her another reminder, as well as, warning of what she had promised.

She had been too numb to reply. Too shaken by the Centre’s cruelty and what her role had been. Lyle had taken her directly to the Tower, where two Centre sweepers had waited. And here she was, sitting in front of the Director, palms sweaty as thoughts of more cruelty they could inflict on Jarod ran through her mind.

“No one leaves the Centre, Miss Parker, unless,” the Director paused for effect, smiling and with empty eyes adding, “well, unless they’re dead or on their way to Africa.”

Miss Parker didn’t reply. Any answer would be superfluous and would be seen as insubordinate. What the Tower wants, it gets. No questions asked. She was fairly certain that they didn’t want her dead, since Lyle had hinted as much with his earlier actions in her cell. But you can never be too careful. Her father was the only one she had heard of who had ever returned after being summoned to the Tower.

“Your father isn’t here to protect you anymore, Miss Parker.”

Which one? Miss Parker wondered tiredly. Not that Raines ever had the inclination to protect anyone but himself. At least the man she had thought to be her father did, even if it was for his own ulterior motives.

She was just so damn tired of all the secrets and lies.

“It’s unfortunate the scrolls were lost at sea. Your mother had understood their significance better than your father ever had. It was regrettable that she had betrayed the Centre. Because of her actions, she had been deemed a threat and as such, appropriate action was taken.

She sat, frozen at the callousness of the words, uttered without any emotion what-so-ever. It seemed so surreal, that the Director was discussing her mother’s cold blooded murder. She thought about protesting, about retaliating, about saying something inappropriate enough that would probably get her killed and put an end to all of this.

Then she thought about Jarod. And like the past five minutes, she said nothing, did nothing but sit there and take it.

“Since you were born, your destiny has always been linked to the Centre - you and Jarod together,” the older woman asserted and this time she paused and waited. Miss Parker’s mouth went dry as the ramifications of those words ran through her mind.

They wouldn’t dare….would they?

She chose her words carefully, aware of the consequences of getting it wrong. Just as with Lyle earlier, she asked the Director what she wanted her to do.

And, just as with Lyle, she loathed the answer.

She was stunned, when she saw her office. All the items she knew she had stored away were back in their usual places as if she’d never left. Except for the sweeper at the door, it all seemed like another normal day at the Centre – like nothing had changed. A stack of folders were the only thing out of place. Pouring herself a good measure of scotch, she took the tumbler with its contents to her desk. She didn’t take a seat; that would have seemed too normal. Hugging herself tightly, she stood in front of the window. It looked out on the bay where she could see the water breaking against the beachShe wondered what they’d do if she took her own life. If Jarod would ever forgive her if he ever found out why she’d committed such a desperate and final act.

“Don’t give up, Parker.”

She took a deep breath. It was as if Tommy was standing just behind her, his scent elusive. She vividly remembered it as musky, with a tinge of sandalwood mixed somewhere in between. Closing her eyes, she leaned her head against the glass.

“Don’t let them rule your life Parker.”

I don’t know what to do. Even admitting it to herself was hard. Feather soft, she felt his fingers curl around hers. There was an ache that wouldn’t release her, that clutched her heart. She was helpless and powerless to do anything.

“This isn’t you, Parker. Jarod needs you.”

What about me? What about what I need? I don’t know how to fix this. She turned around, her back against the cool glass. Not giving a damn about appearances anymore, she slowly she slid down until she was curled against the wall. She had never felt this helpless before. At long last, tears streamed down her face, escaping from under her closed lashes.

“Shhh, it’s okay, Parker. I’m always here for you.”

I can’t go through this again. She imagined Tommy’s strong and comforting arms enfolding her protectively. His flannel shirt caressing her face. Another sob spontaneously escaped. The image of Tommy slumped against her house still haunted her dreams. She didn’t want the image replaced with Jarod’s.

“You know very well they’ve always underestimated you, Parker.”

She smiled warmly and for now, her grief was defused. This time it had been Jarod’s voice juxtaposed, as the ghost of Tommy smiled with her and added in his own voice, “Jarod’s right, Parker. Trust him.” And then he was gone, just like before. She rose, made her way towards the desk and took up the forgotten scotch. The golden liquid swirled in the glass and as she tasted the fiery liquid, and then downed it, she felt hope building inside her. Strengthening her. A plan started to take hold, still unformed, but there nonetheless. Jarod had told her once – when she had been hurt and dying inside – how to stop the Centre.

All she needed now was to find a way to use that knowledge to their advantage.