Maybe we both deserve more

“I can’t help but to imagine our mothers holding that box instead of them. I can’t help but to imagine a different ending to all of this.”

“What am I supposed to do, Jarod?”

“Only you can answer that. I just hate to see anyone miss a turning point when one is staring them right in the face.”

“And I suppose you’re going to open my eyes.”

“No, you don’t need me to do that. Only you can decide for yourself whether or not to take a hard look at your life. The way your mother once did.”

“Leave my mother out of this, okay? I am not her.”

“Then who are you? Your father? Is the Parker legacy what you want to pass on to your children?”

Jarod sighed. “Look, we’ve been through a lot together, you and me. From when we were kids at the Centre to the last couple of days. I know that rarely our allegiances are the same but I’ve always felt…I’ve always known that there’s something more to our lives than I run and you chase.”

“Maybe we do what we have to just to get by in this life, Jarod.”

“Maybe we both deserve something more.”

“Just…just forget what happened on that island. Forget that moment of weakness. Turning points only come when you’ve got something to turn to.”

Jarod leaned over and took her hand in his. Tightening his grip, he hoped that she’d finally realise his feelings, that she’d understand what he was trying to do. But she pulled her hand out of his and said, “I’m sorry this isn’t the different ending you’ve been waiting for. But it’s just the way the damn story goes, Jarod.”

He watched her exit the car and then the sweepers were there, dragging him out and past her. He managed to bring the procession to a halt and he said, “That’s the wonderful thing about life, Miss Parker. If you change the story, the ending is up to you.”

“Blood pressure is falling.”

“Get the paddles ready, just in case.”

&-&

“Momma?”

“It’s okay, baby. I’m right here.”

Miss Parker allowed herself to relax, feeling her mother’s arms surround her. She felt safe and the nightmare from a moment ago was rapidly fading.

“Momma?”

“Hmmm.”

“I met a boy today.”

“Oh you did. Is he handsome like your father?”

Miss Parker giggled. “I guess. He says his name is Jarod. He looked lonely.” She felt her mother move against her but she only snuggled deeper into the safety of her mom’s arms. She rested her head against her mother’s chest, heard her heart beat and closed her eyes.

“Maybe you should make friends with Jarod?”

Without opening her eyes, she nodded. “Daddy didn’t want me to tell him my name. But I want to.”

“Maybe you can tell him tomorrow.”

Miss Parker had barely the energy to nod, her breathing already deepening to sleep. Tomorrow.

She’ll tell Jarod her name tomorrow and she’ll whisper it into his ear.

&-&

“She’s not breathing, we’ve got to intubate.”

&-&

“Momma?”

“Shush baby, you don’t want to wake your father.”

Her eyes widened. She nodded and made her way silently across the room to where her mother sat on the coach in front of the fire place. It was cold and she had forgotten to take her dressing gown.

“What is it, honey? Another nightmare?”

She shook her head as she nestled into her mother’s arms, watching the fire dance on the logs. “Momma, why is Jarod at the Centre?”

Catherine sighed. Absently running her fingers through her daughter’s hair, she said, “Jarod is really smart, baby and that means that he can help people with his gift.”

“But doesn’t he have a family of his own.”

Catherine’s face darkened for a moment. Her daughter unaware of the emotion was still, waiting for her answer.

“Jarod is special, honey and his family knows this.”

“But why don’t they visit him then?”

“Because they’re very far away and I bet if they knew that you were friends with Jarod, that they’ll appreciate it.”

Not understanding but trusting her mother, she agreed.

&-&

“Everybody clear….Clear!”

&-&

The brush glided smoothly thru her hair. A small secretive smile settled and she met her mother’s eyes in the mirror. She could still feel his lips against hers from their earlier kiss and it made her giddy all over.

“What happened?”

She giggled, her eyes bright with life and love. “Can you keep a secret?”

Catherine smiled. “Off course, baby. So, out with it.”

“I kissed a boy today.”

“Oh, you did. Do I know this young man?”

Miss Parker nodded. “It was Jarod.”

The brush stopped. Catherine was speechless for a moment, her eyes darkening with worry. “Honey, I don’t want you to tell your father about this. Promise me.”

Miss Parker turned on the seat, watching her mother. “Did I do something wrong?”

Catherine cupped her daughter’s cheek and smiled. “No honey. I just don’t think that you’re ready yet. You remember when I told you that Jarod is special?”

Miss Parker nodded.

“You don’t want him to get into trouble?”

“No. I’m sorry, momma.”

Catherine pulled her daughter into a hug. “That’s fine, baby. Just be careful, okay.”

&-&

“I’ve got a heartbeat…”

&-&

“Momma! No!”

She evaded the sweepers’ hands and made it to the elevator. She heard Jarod’s cries in the distance but all her attention was on her mom’s body by her feet. She couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything except absorb the image into her mind.

She heard voices, felt arms surround her and then she was pulled away.

She fought the arms, tried to escape their choking hold. Wanted to get back to the elevator and back to her mother.

“Momma…”

&-&

And she opened her eyes, the call for her mother still fresh on her lips.

The Tower, The Centre

Apparently there were some things to be grateful about. Margaret stood beside the window that overlooked the ocean, her back to the room. The click as the door was closed and locked sounded loud in the silence of the room, reminding her that despite the opulence in evidence, she was a prisoner.

She was back where it had all started. She reached out a hand and placed it against the glass. Despite the warmth of the room, she was surprised to find that it was icy to the touch. She closed her eyes as the image of her son encased in a glass box immediately surfaced. She swallowed against the remembered tears, willing the image to change into something else. Now, more than ever she hated her heritage, hated what her secret had done to her family.

It had scattered them all into the wind, had broken her family apart as surely as anything. All because she had wanted her family safe from the Centre and more importantly, safe from him. So much had gone wrong that it was difficult to imagine anything going right. The thin thread of hope she had been holding on to was slowly sliding out of her grasp and she couldn’t stop it. She was just so tired of fighting, of trying to bring her family back together against the overwhelming odds that were stacked against them.

She leaned her head against the window and ignored the tears that slipped down her face. Her guilt ate at her and her stomach cramped in sympathy. All that Jarod had experienced was her fault.

“I’m sorry, Jarod,” she whispered to the room, “Please forgive me.”

They had denied her access to her son. It was what she had expected, but it hadn’t taken away the deep set hope that they might eventually relent. She had then asked to see Miss Parker, wanting to know if she’d be all right. That had been denied as well.

Now here she was, in a room that looked like it had been prepared specifically for her. The colours reminded her of home, of a time long ago before her innocence had been taken from her. They had even placed a vase of lilies on a small table situated in the sitting area. It was the middle of winter, and yet they had found the flowers to remind her that he was the one that had wanted her here.

He always did have an eye for details.

She had never been allowed in the Tower before and yet the place seemed familiar somehow. She hugged herself tightly. Outside snow has started to fall, the clouds dark and sombre. It matched her mood perfectly and triggered a memory she had thought forgotten. She felt the world drop beneath her feet as the memory surfaced in a swarm of harsh, angry images.

And suddenly she was reliving her last night with Catherine Parker.

The hunting cabin where they had agreed to meet was just outside Blue Cove. The mountains rose behind it in straight spires, the forest surrounding it, silent and deep. She had arrived this morning, tired and feeling old beyond her years.

She started a fire, shivering slightly in the coldness of the room. Absently she moved around the cabin, checking the cupboards for food before deciding on heating some soup for lunch. She had just finished when she heard a car approaching. Although she knew who it would be, fear still took hold of her, reminding her that she was in fact far from safe. She moved to the window and shifted the curtains just far enough to see who the occupant of the car was.

It was Catherine, just as she had known it would be. They had agreed on the time and place and still she found a soft sigh of relief escaping her. The Centre was never far from her thoughts, never far from the devastation it had wrought on her heart and her family.

She opened the door for her friend, hastily closing it behind her when a frigid gust of wind blew in, making the fire flutter in the hearth, sending sparks flying into the air.

“They broadcasted snow for tonight.”

Margaret nodded, aware already of the weather report. She didn’t mind. It meant that the sweepers were less likely to be out tonight, away from the warmth of the Centre. She made her way to the kitchen, reheating the soup as her friend hanged her jacket on the hook behind the door.

By early afternoon the light had started to fail and the dark grew stronger. The sky and earth were of a single gray hue, the air crisp and cold. Soon after it had gone fairly dark, the snow had started to fall in steady drifts, blown sideways by a steadily increasing wind. Visibility outside was less than a meter and soon the brown and wintered backyard was enveloped in white.

Inside, the two women were seated on the rug; photos and books surrounding them. Margaret glanced at Catherine, aware that there was something wrong. Her friend had changed. Something had happened since she had seen her last. Margaret felt despair wash through her, wondering if it had anything to do with her boys being held at the Centre.

Over the years, they had made and disregarded plans to save Jarod and Kyle. All had been for nought, as she had deemed them far too dangerous. Margaret couldn’t risk his wrath against her children. At least Emily was safe with Charles. Maybe if all worked out and she and Catherine found the scrolls, they could be a normal family again, living without the constant fear and sadness.

She glanced at Catherine again, convinced that something was wrong. That her friend was hiding something big, big enough to make her heart cramp with fear for her boys.

Lord, please protect them. Let them be all right.

She had no idea how many times she had prayed that prayer, whispering it in her heart each time she was reminded of what the Centre had stolen from her while at the same time hating herself for her own inability to be there to protect them.

Because of whom she was. Because of him.

“I don’t know if I can do this, Margaret.”

Somehow she knew that Catherine wasn’t talking about finding the scrolls. Dread settled slowly around her, crushing something inside her as she looked into the anguished face of her friend.

“What happened?” she asked in a breathless whisper.

“I…I’m so sorry, Margaret.” Catherine said softly as tears started to fall, trekking a path down her face.

“What happened?” she asked again, her mouth suddenly dry with fear. The books and photo’s forgotten and with it her chance of finding the scrolls forgotten. All she had eyes for was Catherine.

And Catherine told her then about Raines and his plan of leaving her baby girl at the Centre and at the mercy of her father. About leaving her search for the scrolls because Raines knew about them and her quest. How he had blackmailed her into faking her own death. Margaret couldn’t comprehend the words.

“You don’t have to do this, Cat. Your daughter needs you. Please, don’t do this.” She tearfully watched her friend, her insides screaming for Catherine to understand what her decision meant for Jarod and Kyle. For her. That the possibility of her never seeing them again had suddenly become very real with Catherine’s confession.

“Don’t you understand? I have no choice. If I don’t do this, Raines will go to the Triumvirate and Jarod would be taken from Sydney and given to Raines. He wouldn’t be safe anymore. This way, at least we…you still have a chance to save your boys.”

“No, please Catherine. Don’t do this to me. I can’t find the scrolls alone. I need you. Your daughter needs you.”

As soon as Margaret said it, she regretted her words. She could see that her friend was very much aware of what she was doing, of the consequences that her actions would bring.

“I’m so sorry. I…I didn’t think….isn’t there anything else you could do?”

Catherine shook her head. “I’ll speak to Sydney tomorrow. It has to be this way. Raines doesn’t know about you. You have to find the scrolls, Margaret. They are the key to ensuring a future for our children. I’ll leave everything with you.”

Margaret started to cry. The hopelessness of the situation suddenly sitting heavily on her shoulders. How was she ever going to get her boys back now?

Every insecurity Margaret had ever felt seemed to come to light at that moment, taunting her of her past failures and her inability to keep her family together. Drawing a deep breath, she tried to calm herself. She needed to focus on what they had to do. She had to be strong for her friend.

And for the rest of the night they had not spoken again about Catherine’s choice. Instead they had continued on their research into the scrolls. The next day, despite the snow, Catherine had left.

A month later Margaret had heard about the shooting in the elevator. And she had heard what Charles had done. He had somehow found out about the Centre. He had left Emily with friends and had tried his own rescue attempt. It had been the same day that Catherine had been shot in the elevator and she had heard stories that he had been responsible. That while he had tried to escape, he had been shot and seriously wounded.

The memory came and went like the passing shadow of a cloud and she became aware that she was still standing at the window, staring at the falling snow.

She could never forget how angry and frightened she had been. Charles had almost unwittingly killed her boys. The promised threat that night that she had tried to rescue Jarod had still been so vivid in her mind.

And they had gone their separate ways that night – nearly a month after she had found him holed up in a dingy hotel, fighting infection from his gunshot wound. She had nursed him back to health patiently, knowing that their time together was precious, even under the circumstances. She remembered the fear and panic the nights when she literally almost had to drag her husband to the safety of her car while sweepers entered the room they had just escaped from. She could still hear his suppressed cries of pain while she moved him, the hollowness of his eyes as he looked out the window before passing out. And her own frantic heartbeat as she continually touched him to make sure that he wasn’t dead or dying while driving one handed through the night to find another place to stay in while Charles recuperated.

It had been a frantic two weeks, spend running from place to place, staying just long enough before the sweepers came to give Charles a chance at healing.

After he had been healed, they had decided to separate. It had become too dangerous to stay together. It would be more difficult to track them individually and it would give her a change to find the scrolls without worrying about Charles finding out her secret. She had taken Emily with her, kissed her husband goodbye and without looking back, gone in search of the scrolls.

She had not seen him since that night nearly twenty years ago. She wondered what he’d look like today and if she’d even recognise him. She regretted a lot of things, among them that night she had said goodbye to him.

She turned from the window and made her way towards the bed. Although she tried, she couldn’t stop the tears from starting. She rolled onto her side, clutching the pillow close as she buried her face in the softness. She was crying now for herself. She was crying for what she had lost, for what she had turned into. She suddenly whished that Charles was here, that she could feel his arms around her and that he’d tell her that everything was going to be okay. She tried to cradle his imaginary warmth and strength for a little while but it dissolved away into the bleakness of knowing where she was.

If…if….if

She couldn’t live her life on ifs. Shaken by her own perceived weakness, she glanced at the camera watching over her before wiping her tears away.

Decisions had been made, now she had to live with them.

The Centre, the next day

The morning after his dream, he was lead to the sim room. He sat down at the table, tired and emotionally drawn from his nightmares. He had been unable to sleep after his last vivid nightmare about Parker. The vision of her lying in her own blood was still too real. His nostrils flared in an almost unconscious response to the image in his mind, the coppery tang of her blood that hung in the air so real that his need to see her overwhelmed him.

It’s just a nightmare.

He kept on repeating the words, willing them to be true, having no concrete evidence to the contrary except Lyle’s words that she was in her office and safe.

“Morning, Jarod.”

Jarod said nothing in response, watching Lyle as he entered the room, a huge black bag in one hand. Banishing the last lingering images of Miss Parker to the recesses of his brain, he turned his attention to the bag when it was placed on the table.

“Let me guess, you want me to sort your garbage?”

Lyle chuckled softly. The smug look on Lyles face made the image of Parker lying in a pool of blood resurface; the vision was frightening in its clarity

“Consider this a gift from me to you.”

Jarod glared suspiciously at Lyle, unable to mask the uneasiness that now permeated his body. His eyes followed Lyle as the man opened the bag and dumped the contents on the table. Something hard hit the table, a greyish flash before darker shades covered the form. He frowned as the image of that greyish blur kept on repeating itself until he finally remembered why it seemed so familiar. It was Parker’s gun.

His skin ran cold. Sweeping nausea almost overwhelmed him even as his mind screamed in denial. No, Lyle wouldn’t have…There had to be another explanation, some other reason why Lyle would have Parker’s gun. She would never give it up willingly. He rose shakily and managed to make his way to where the bundle was lying on the table. His fingers brushed across the dark fabric, his mind conjuring up the last time he had seen her wear it.

That time she had been chasing him down an alley, her face determined, and the click of her heels loud in the enclosed space.

His mouth dry, he still managed to focus enough to know that the darker spots on her clothes were blood. He spread them out until he saw her gun. It was unmistakably Parker’s, the grey handle of the Smith and Wesson gleaming dully in the overhead lights. Automatically he checked it for bullets, his hands going through the motions. It was empty, as was expected. Even Lyle wouldn’t be so dumb as to give him a live gun.

The gun felt heavy in his hand and he found that he couldn’t let it go. The implications of what he was experiencing were jut to mind numbing. It was too much to take in and process all at once. He had always assumed that she’d be safe from this because of who she was. Because he had thought that the Centre would never step over the invisible line they had drawn so long ago. That Sydney and Miss Parker would be safe no matter what he did. Sydney because he was his mentor and had his own protection and Miss Parker because of her legacy. What he was seeing was as incomprehensible as meeting an alien from Mars.

“Miss Parker?” The name froze on his lips.

“She found your father and Gemini,” Lyle replied coolly, “Major Charles fought back and when we finally managed to find her, it was too late.”

Jarod just shook his head. He wasn’t about to give Lyle the satisfaction of reacting to his lies. He focused on the bloodstains on the handle, contemplating his options and how much he’d be able to really hurt Lyle with it before the sweepers managed stop him.

“I need you to help me find them, Jarod,” Lyle said smoothly, “You don’t want your father to kill anyone else, do you?”

“I want to see her.”

“She’s already been cremated.”

Jarod’s eyes snapped to Lyle’s, struggling to comprehend the man’s last words. He felt like he was standing on the edge of a cliff as it crumbled away beneath his feet. He mind desperately tried to ground itself as he tried to remind himself that the Centre thrived on lies. Lyle took her gun out of his unresisting grip, tucking it into his back.

“Jarod?”

Jarod stirred, his gaze moving from Lyle to the clothes and back until he finally managed to say, “I don’t believe you.”

Lyle shrugged. “Believe what you will, Jarod but unless you help us to find Gemini and your father, other people you care about could get hurt. You don’t want that, do you?”

The Centre, a day later

Jarod came awake with a shudder.

Parker…

His head snapped up from the pillow of his arm, his eyes slid open and he stared blankly ahead. There was pain all through his body, endless waves of it. He forced himself to move, drawing in a sharp breath as he rolled onto his knees. He pulled one hand across his chest as he moved slowly backwards until he reached the wall. He manoeuvred carefully into a seated position and leaned gingerly against the wall.

Parker…

A door clanked and he tensed as footsteps announced his visitor. He heard the keys as they rattled against his cell door but he didn’t look up.

“Get up.”

Slowly he pushed himself up and somehow managed to stand, leaning against the wall. He still didn’t look directly at Lyle. Couldn’t. Not after his failure to kill the man standing before him. All he had managed in the sim room was to get his hands around Lyle’s neck before the sweepers had dragged him from the other man. He had fought them all, growling in rage and hatred until his world had exploded in pain and darkness.

Oh God, he hurt. Couldn’t describe how much he hurt to know that her death might be his fault.

Sydney, where are you?

But he hadn’t seen Sydney since Lyle had brought him Parker’s gun. He longed for his mentor, longed for his objectiveness because despite all he had endured, he knew that Sydney loved him. That Sydney would protect him. That Sydney would take away his nightmares and hold him like he did when he was little.

Sydney loved him.

Didn’t he?

His mind scrambled around his own doubt as he thought of all the times that he had wished for Sydney. And he felt ashamed that all he could think of was his need for Sydney. That his own father was not the person he sought for comfort. That if the evidence Lyle had provided was somehow true, that he wanted to share his grief with Sydney.

That somewhere inside him a little voice was saying that Lyle could be telling the truth. That his father could be responsible for her death in order to protect his clone. That she was really gone…

No! It's lies. Parker, I need you. Please…

Breathe….breathe! But against the idea that she could really be dead, he couldn’t. Couldn’t imagine living without her, even in the distorted world of the Centre where he ran and she chased. Even if she was his huntress. Even with the knowledge that his dream of them together had been just that, a dream.

Everything was frozen, paralysed. He didn’t react when he felt the familiar shackles close around his writs, didn’t react when he was drenched in water again.

“Where’s Gemini?”

Jarod was still unable to reply against the dark swirling images of Parker’s broken body. Of the knowledge that the Centre could be telling the truth and the thought that he had lost the only person that had ever meant anything more to him than the ghosts of his family he had been chasing all these years.

She had been substantial, had been real and had been his friend. Even in the twisted world of the Centre, she had been his friend.

“Jarod…”

He ignored Lyle, instead retreated deeper into himself as he sought her laughter in his memory.

Parker….

And then the dam broke as white hot agony spread through his body, sending him convulsing against the chains. It ripped into Parker’s ghost, ripped into his soul and tore it into shreds. When he could see again, breathe again, he heard Lyle ask, “Where’s Gemini?”

But he couldn’t answer. Not because he didn’t want to, but because he didn’t know, because he couldn’t find Parker and he realised that this time he was truly lost.

And then he heard nothing but his own screams.

The Centre

“I want to see Jarod, Lyle. You can’t keep me from him.”

Lyle shrugged his shoulders, “Sorry Syd, but Triumvirate orders. Only when Jarod is ready for simulations will you be able to coddle him again.”

Sydney’s eyes narrowed suspiciously and then the older man said, “Fine, then I’d like to go home until such time that I’m needed again.”

“No can do, I’m afraid Sydney. It’s too dangerous. I’m sure you’ll find other ways to amuse yourself until boy wonder is ready.”

“Dammit, Lyle,” Sydney exclaimed, wrapping his hand around Lyle’s arm, “I want to know what is going on? Why can’t I see Jarod?”

Lyle shrugged Sydney’s hand off. “Be careful, Syd, you’re not in charge of the Pretender program anymore. I don’t have to explain what that means, now do I?”

The Centre, 2 days later

He lay in the dark, curled against the wall and waited for Lyle to come back. He tried to go back into his mind to where there was once light, to where he had hope. But he couldn’t find it. Everything was dark, everything was despair. And guilt. Because he had in the end told them about the safe house that he had set up for his father and Gemini. He still didn’t know how but somewhere in the midst of the pain, he couldn’t take it anymore not to feel Miss Parker. And he told Lyle so that he could have peace, so that he could lose himself in his memories.

And Lyle had left him alone with a promise to come back once he had his father and the boy. That he’d be able to see them. He knew it was lies, but he didn’t care anymore. It didn’t matter anymore.

In the end, all that mattered was his memories of Parker and his dream of them together. Of imagining her love for him, the feel of her skin underneath him.

“Friend sad.”

Jarod didn’t react. He didn’t want Angelo here. Didn’t want his time spent with ghosts interrupted.

His cell door clanked open and then Angelo touched him on his shoulder. “Jarod come. Daughter sad.”

Jarod stirred, trying to understand what Angelo was saying. Trying to decipher the words. “Miss Parker?”

“Daughter sad, Jarod come now.”

He wasn’t sure how to react to the empath’s words. Wasn’t sure if Angelo was even really here or just another illusion. Another hopeless dream. Rough fingers poked him again. He blinked against the darkness and tried to make out Angelo’s face. It was covered in dark planes, but his presence felt real. And then he really registered what Angelo had been saying.

Daughter sad… and that must mean that her death had been a...lie. He grabbed Angelo’s arm, held onto it like it was a lifeline. “Miss Parker’s alive?” His voice was weak, exhausted but still, he asked.

“Alive. Sad.”

The force of his own betrayal hit him like an express train. He had believed Lyle, believed even though he had had his own doubts all along.

Oh God, he’d betrayed his father and the boy for Centre lies.

He could only pray that they wouldn’t be there when the Centre arrived. But Miss Parker was alive! That mattered more to him then his own guilt at what he had done, more than his own hurt.

“Where is she?” he urged Angelo, still holding on to the other man, still needing the physical contact.

“Friend come?”

He could only nod numbly, aware that he had no words to describe his hope at seeing her alive again.

The Infirmary, The Centre

Miss Parker awoke when she heard the noise from the vent. Her eyes blinked open to find that she was alone. Her body ached and she was tired, her eyes grainy and raw. The beating might have left her incapacitated for the moment, but it hadn’t interfered with her hearing.

And she was sure that she had heard a slight scuffle in the vent above her. She frowned in confusion. Images of her childhood with Jarod in the Centre came back to her, and she recalled vividly all the times that they had wandered through the vents.

The vent popped open and Jarod dropped down into the room, his eyes meeting hers across the short distance. They were filled with emotion: fatigue, fear, concern and only a trace of pain. She could easily read it from where she was curled on the bed, even in the semi-darkness that pervaded her room. Her mind scrambled for security, for safety from confronting him. She was acutely aware of her own harsh shallow breathing, of her exhaustion and pain. She couldn’t afford thought, couldn’t afford emotion. But despite all her effort, she couldn’t stop looking at him as he stood there. And then a thought slipped through, breaking the spell he had seemingly put over her, ending her paralysis.

Oh, God, Jarod. How do I explain why I had to do the things I did. Say the things I did.

Irrationally, she felt anger that he’d came, even thought she knew somehow that he’d find a way to her. Angelo was as ever, predictable. Even with Faith, he had known that Jarod was the one to comfort her.

Damn him.

Damn the Centre. Damn her father.

Suddenly tired of it all, she closed her eyes and tried to ignore his presence in the room. She knew something had happened for her to be in the position she is now and that Lyle had to be the reason why. But for the life of her, she couldn’t remember what she had done.

And she couldn’t remember if it had to do with her plan.

If the reason she was here was because she had failed.

“Miss Parker?”

His voice was soft, hesitant and it nearly broke through her anger and her fear. She ignored him. She didn’t want to face him, knowing that all her plans had been for nought. That Lyle is orchestrating this meeting. That her brother had dropped Jarod into the vent with instructions and he was waiting just around the corner for her to screw this up.

Waiting to see if she’d keep her side of his bargain.

She knew him well enough to know that he had reached out for her, that his hand was hovering uncertainly above her own, afraid to make contact. Afraid of how she’d react. Not a surprise, considering their last meeting.

“Who did this? Was it Lyle?”

It hurt too much to move and besides, the answer was obvious. Frustrated again by her lack of memory in regards to her injuries, she kept still.

Please go away. Please, Jarod, run and forget about me. Find your mother and don’t look back.

And then even while she thought those words, she knew that if she said them, that Jarod would ignore it. That he’d shake his head and stay. She didn’t want to be responsible for what Lyle could do to him. Didn’t want to feel the regret and fear and anger she knew she’d have if something happened to him because of her.

I don’t want Lyle to find you here.

Even those words would do nothing for Jarod. Why did he have to be so stubborn? Why couldn’t be like any other human being and run?

Why did he have to be here?

Because he’s Jarod.

“Parker, please look at me.”

She reluctantly opened her eyes to find that his own was inches away from hers. She felt the warmth of his breath on her cheek and remembered the last time they had been together before the Centre had came.

Before her world had gone straight to hell.

And she found that Jarod had tears in his eyes.

His hands were soft against her skin as they traced a path up her spine. She sighed in pleasure and then turned so that she was on her back, his hand trapped beneath her. His eyes met hers and he smiled before leaning in to kiss the tip of her nose and then her lips. She held him in her gaze all the while, forcing herself not to give in and close her eyes.

Their kiss deepened slowly as his free hand start to explore her body again. And then Jarod broke the kiss, leaning his forehead against hers.

“You’re so incredibly beautiful, did you know that?”

And she found that she could see Jarod’s eyes filled with a simmering light and when she leaned back slightly, realised that it was in fact tears.

“It’s real, isn’t it? Us, what I remember?”

She hadn’t the heart to deny him an answer. Couldn’t in the face of his sorrow and fear. Even if Lyle was just waiting around the corner, watching for just this moment.

She couldn’t deny her heart.

She began to cry silently, feeling the tears trace a path down her face as she nodded. She hated feeling this vulnerable, hated the fact that she hated it. But she couldn’t seem to stop it either.

Jarod wiped her tears away with a gentle hand and then he closed the distance and kissed her lightly on the lips. And even through the pain, she was aware of his hand curling tenderly around her own.

A moment later his lips was gone and she ached for it. He smiled and she smiled back. It hurt but she didn’t mind.

Jarod was here.

He’ll take all the hurt away.