Author: M. Monica. Parker. Park. Anna. Whatever. Wanna archive? Sure, just ask. I don't bite... Too hard.

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Disclaimer: Story is mine. Characters are the Universe's (In other words, NBC's.. TNT's. God. Whoever.)

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The Rescue
2/?
by  -M.

Back In Mystery Man’s Complex

Miss Parker sat up, slowly inching so as not to turn someway she shouldn’t. She could feel the hidden pain in her veins, a monster just waiting to rear it’s ugly head. She turned her head slightly and it roared at her, the blinding red pain blocking her vision and capability to think. For a moment there was nothing but the pain, and the horrifying thought it would never end.

But it did. It subsided and Miss Parker unclenched her teeth.

She looked around her sterile room and sighed in disgust. She moved, the pain reemerging, but made her way back to the door she had been thrown against only a few hours ago. She backed off, staring at the whole while. She tried to recall what had happened. There had been darkness and red. Pain, that wanted to consume her whole.

The door flew open (disturbing her thoughts), and she looked up, moving her neck a bit too quickly thus causing red pain to flare in her eyes, blinding her for a second.

"So... Sleeping Beauty is awake," came the derisive sneer from the door. A tall, muscular man stood firmly in the door way, arms crossed. He had sandy blond hair—the roots blonder than the top—and the oddest green eyes Miss Parker had seen.

Miss Parker advanced to him, glaring fiercely-her blue eyes as cold as ice.

"Where the hell am I? Who are you?" She snapped viciously, moving to push him aside or at least break a bone in the man’s body.

"You don’t remember?" He catechized, angry at her act of defiance

As she planted her hands on his chest to push him back, he grabbed her forearm and spun her around. Her shoulder blade pinched her back painfully, and the anguished cry that escaped Miss Parker's lips made the man smile in joy. He pulled her close to her, tightening his grasp on her arm and pulling her arm a bit higher, making her squeal.

"You definitely knew when you were talking to Jarod..." He hissed at her and pushed her down to the floor.

Miss Parker landed with an angry thump and moved her hand to her tender arm. "I don’t remember talking to Jarod...! Who are you?!" She snapped, eyes wide.

"You’ll learn In due time, Parker... You’ll learn everything." The man stated in a tone that had a resemblance to that of a College Philosophy teacher.

"Damn it, damn you: Answer me!" Miss Parker yelled getting to her feet
with a groan.

The man shook his head and commented cheerily, "We’re going to have some trouble with you..." He turned sharply on his heels and moved outside to close the heavy lead door with a sickening slam.

Miss Parker leaned up against the door, looking out the small double paned window. She scanned for anything in the hallway, but, as bare as the Centre, there was nothing.

She turned around, leaned her back against the cold door and gazed at the floor.

* * * * *

Jarod shook his hand, undoing the fist he had created. He sat in traffic, terribly mad at the world—and himself. He looked down at his palm to see the indentations of his fingernails in his flesh. The pain had gone unnoticed.

Any other person who had seen Jarod would have thought that he man was trying to get to his wife in the hospital or to pick up a thousand dollar check for a loan shark before the bank closed. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel nervously, and closed his eyes. He took In the smells of the car: the leather that was practically new, the Starbucks coffee he had brought out to the car, the air freshener that hung from the rearview mirror. A little green pine tree that smelt like real pine. Jarod had picked it up at a gas station three days before. Swish, swish, swish. It swung back and forth moving like a ballerina in the current of air coming from the air conditioner.

Jarod was tense mostly because the fact of anyone being kidnapped unnerved him beyond belief. But the fact that it was _Miss Parker_ shocked him as well as disturbed him. He and her had not had a Kosher relationship since they were children. He often tried to remember why. He supposed it was the fact she had left for boarding school and they had separated. But they had had such a surprisingly, passionate friendship that Jarod serious doubted the above reason was viable. Something clicked in his mind every time he thought about it. It had an extensive collection of DSA’s—mostly all of them--- yet nothing led up to why Miss Parker left or why they became suddenly distant. His memory failed him, which disturbed him, partially why he never brought it up.

Jarod growled and pulled into a ditch on the side of the road, to drive on a slant as he neared the oncoming accident that had caused the back up. He sighed as he saw a body being brought up onto an ambulance, draped in a yellow sheet, stating he or she was dead.

A distant memory flashed before his eyes...
A girl...
A boy...
Darkness...
*Click.*

Jarod pulled onto the road, his thoughts agitating him, ignoring the yells of the police, only concentrating on trying to save another soul and in the process patch up a hole in his own.

*  *  *  *

Broots typed for Miss Parker's dear life, his fingers doing most of the work while his mind drifted. Miss Parker was gone? Some one had taken her?  But... She was so strong and aware. No one could have taken her.. Unless they  had not taken her alive.

He shuddered at the thought and continued searching through the mainframe for anything about Miss Parker he or Sydney should know about. There seemed  to nothing other than the norm—personnel files and such. There was a slightly  humorous bit about her having her tonsils and wisdom teeth removed in the  Centre clinic, but whatever the article had  said that was appealing to the  mind was replaced in Broots’ mind with images of Miss Parker writhing in  pain. He growled, feeling very protective all of a sudden. The same look he  saw in Miss Parker's eyes was the same look he often saw in Debbie’s when she  woke up with bad dreams. That same scared, trapped look that rabbit’s often  wore when surrounded. The look that pleaded for someone to come and kiss her  fore head, hug her, protect her from the world and tell her "Every thing’s  going to be all right." But there was no one for Miss Parker. At least no one she let in. Broots found nothing and shoved the keyboard away in uncharacteristic anger. He got up but froze as a familiar voice brought him to attention.

"Why so angry, Broots?" Lyle called to him from behind. Broots turned around to face the man in the sharp blue suit, a black glove replacing his maroon one from yesterday.

"M-Mr. Lyle... I, uh, was s-searching, uh, for a bit of, uh, information, for, uh, Jarod’s chase... Couldn’t find, uh, what I, uh, wanted..." Broots stammered, his random use of "uh’s" making Lyle smirk. "Can’t stop working just because, uh, Miss Parker's out, uh, of office..."

"Looking in files about Miss Parker?" Lyle said raising an eyebrow.

Broots nodded. "Jarod left a clue about something in her file about teeth, Mr. Lyle..." He didn’t stammer as he lied, which Lyle noticed and took into consideration.

"If anything comes up, tell me... We’ll get Sweeper teams on it right away..." Lyle said and then shook his hand in dismissal.

Broots moved out of the room, wringing his shirt in a distraught manner. He shook his head as he neared the vending machine down the hall. He searched in his pocket for change and noticed that no one else was out. Weird, he thought as he bought a yellow and green bag of Funyuns.

* * * *

Sydney sat at his desk, looking at the bridge Jarod had built oh so many years ago.

Jarod had sounded angry, mad and disturbed that someone had kidnapped Miss Parker. Sydney realized this.

After all they had been friends since they were both little, very good ones at that. You wouldn’t be surprised to see Miss Parker and Jarod walking down one of the Centre’s hall talking, laughing and whispering to each other.

But it had all come to end... Somehow. Sydney couldn’t recall what had sent Miss Parker to boarding school... What could have possibly torn a gash in the Pretender’s relationship with this young girl.

He fought desperately to remember, because he felt it had something to do with what was happening to Miss Parker. He felt it had all to do with that he was aging and his memory was going. He could not remember anything, no glimpses of light or thoughts of people. He supposed it was nature’s cruel way of making him helpless in this situation. It was just life taking its course. But an even more startling and real thought crossed his mind: What if he had been _made_ to forget?
 
 
 
 

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