Summary: Miss Parker comes to terms with some things from the past.
Categories: Season 3 Characters: Jarod, Lyle, Miss Parker
Genres: Angst, Drama
Warnings: None
Challenges: None
Series: None
Chapters: 1
Completed: No
Word count: 611
Read: 1984
Published: 16/05/05
Updated: 16/05/05
1. Reflections by Trish
Reflections
Author: Trisha
Rating: G, Adult situations
Category: Drama, Major angst (J/MP)
Archived on: November 1, 2000
Timeline: Post-"Donateresa"
Spoilers: "Donateresa"
Summary: Miss Parker comes to terms with some things from the past.
Author's Notes: copyrighted 6/27/99
Disclaimer: The characters are owed by NBC and MTM.
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I watch the cell door slam open and Jarod is pushed roughly to the floor. Back at the Centre, because of me. Not that I captured him. He is bruised and battered but not broken. Even as I watch the video camera, his eyes still hold the same passion and determination, it won't be long before he leaves again.
Does he know that I am held here in renewal wing? I take a bullet for my father and end up here. Lyle thinks that by making me watch them try to break Jarod's spirit that I will revert to the old Parker. Never! Too much has happened. Now, there is something you should understand about Jarod. I love him. Deeply. Madly. Completely. Even when he escaped from the centre and left me behind, I never stopped loving him. He is my soul mate, my better half, my significant other. . . any nickname you choose to give it, that is what he is to me.
However, I could never tell him that. I knew myself, you see, I needed to be in control of situations, and to admit to him how I felt would have been to surrender a part of myself that I was not willing to give up. So in order for me to love, him, as truly as I wished too, I had to bring myself to a state of mind where I could not live without him. In my life, however, I had seen too much death, too much slaughter. I had lost too many loved ones, time and again. I could not remember a time where death was not a reality rather than an abstract concept.
MY first memory, in fact is someone dying. My MOTHER, I remember the blood, and the cry from her lips, and staring into lifeless eyes before strong hands yanked me away. Then Thomas was taken away as well. And all I seek for him is closure, nothing more, nothing less. I survived without him. Yet I have reached a point where I cannot live without Jarod. Can I leave myself that vulerable? Will it hurt? Hurt me, hurt him . . . is it wrong? So I try to keep my silence, wrapping my feelings for him, within a cape of iceness mixed with disdain. Yet when I argued with him, I realized what I truely wanted to do was hold him tight. Everytime I said his name, I imagined myself brushing my lips across his. I think about that first kiss, all the time. I can not forget the sweetness of his lips. Such gentle lips. What would a kiss from him feel like now?
How brief that moment had been, warmth floods through me, now. He doesn't know any of this, or at least I pray he does not. Otherwise, might he think less of me. No, not Jarod . . . neverless. Jarod who looks only for the best part, the lost part. . . the little girl I use to be, the woman I should be. For those dark eyes hold my soul. I brush my fingers across the screen, slowly, longing to touch him. He glances into his camera and a tiny smile plays on those gentle lips. He knows and only to well for I am naked without him.
The End
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