Disclaimer: The Pretender universe, and all therein, isn’t mine. The story is mine, however. So sue me if you want to, oh mighty PTB. You may take my money, but you’ll never take my freedom.

ALWAYS JAROD

by Diamond

It was always Jarod. Always. Ever since we first met - we were nine or ten, I think, and he stared at me through the glass like I was the most amazing thing he'd ever seen. No one besides my mother has had so much impact on my life. I hated him for that, because he had no right to do it - to be that way. During those years I was trying to catch him, I always tried to tell myself that if it weren't for him, I might have actually been leading some semblance of a normal life, and I hated him for that, too. I was always good at deluding myself.

It all ended so abruptly. None of us saw it coming. He brought the whole damn Center crashing down around our ears. He left an out for a few of us, those he deemed worthy of a second chance. Some even deserved it, I suppose, like Broots. But I know the only reason I'm not in jail today is that Jarod had, well, I guess you'd say he had a 'soft spot' for me - or at least for the girl he used to know.

I don't know where he is now. I haven't seen him in years. He's probably married now, with six kids and a dog. Though I also wouldn't be surprised if he's still out there righting wrongs. I think he has to do it, to assuage his guilty conscience. You'd think a genius would be able to figure out that none of it was his fault - all the people that died because of his work at the Center. It's not like he had any choice. But that's just him, I guess.

I haven't seen him in years.

But God... I've never stopped thinking about him. I remember him as a child. We were friends, then. And I think of him when I was chasing him - so damn arrogant - God knows how many times he made a fool out of me. But mostly, I think of him that night after it all went to Hell.

My father committed suicide. Shot himself in the head to escape facing justice. It didn't take long for me to be able to think of it and not feel a thing. But at the time I was devastated. The Center was gone - I wasn't particularly sad to see it go, but it had been my life for... well... forever - and I was at home, preparing to leave and that's when Sydney called and told me, and it was just too much. I knew I had to get out of Blue Cove as soon as possible, but I couldn't move. I must have been in shock. That's when Jarod turned up.

Out of the blue, he appeared in my darkened living room. I think I was crying, and I didn't realise he was there at first - though I must have known on some level because when he finally spoke it didn't startle me.

"I'm sorry," he said. That's all. And I looked up at him and though I don't like to admit it, even now, I was so glad to see him... And even though it was dark and hard to see, I could just make out his face. He looked sad, and concerned... God, it was so good to think that he might still care for me, even then, even just a little.

I stood up then, and faced him, and I wanted to say something but I didn't know which words to use. And it was dark, and he was so close, and so solid, and so there... And even now as I think back, and the memory is so clear, even now I can't remember who reached out first. But suddenly I was in his arms and it felt so good to be held. And then we were kissing, though in this case I know that was me who started it. But he didn't resist, or move, so I kissed him harder, and clung to him, like I was trying to climb inside him. And he kissed me back for a while, though I knew that it was mostly me. That I was feeling more than him; that it meant more for me. I knew it and I hated myself for being so vulnerable. But it had all just been too much, and I couldn't stop - didn't want to stop.

He pulled away after a moment. He looked at me, and it was clear he was disturbed, affronted by my desperation.

"I don't know what you want from me," he said quietly.

I couldn't answer at first, but I knew what I wanted from him - I'd always known - so I told him. "Everything. I want everything, Jarod."

His face took on this sad, almost pained expression as he spoke. "I... can't... I..." he trailed off.

I almost laughed. Finally I had him at a loss for words. But I didn't laugh, because I understood what he meant without him having to say it. And I didn't care, not really. I wanted it all, but in truth I knew I'd settle for anything he gave me at that moment, just because it came from him.

"I know," I whispered as I moved closer again, "But just... pretend... for me, just for tonight, that you can. Please."

He did. And it was so easy to pretend, just for a little while, that we were normal people. That as we made love on the floor of my darkened living room, that the morning would never come, and nothing else mattered but his lips on mine and his breath against my neck...

We moved into my bedroom, and he held me afterwards. I'd always imagined that if it ever happened, he would be the one to get all emotional. But I was the one with tears on my face, and I couldn't seem to stop shaking as he stroked my hair. He barely spoke at all, but I think he was a little disappointed in himself, and in me, I guess.

God. It wasn't supposed to turn out like this.

It was supposed to change everything. I wanted it to, I see that now. But nothing changed, and now I'll never know for sure if he was looking for the same thing when he came to me that night. Maybe I should have asked.

I haven't seen him since he left me that night. But I still think about him. I think about him as I go on about my farcical 'normal' life, with my 'normal' job and my lover-of-the-month. I still think of him, and I hope that sometimes he thinks about me too.

Because it was always Jarod, and it always will be.

End.

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