Project Clairsentience



No one was quite sure how Miss Parker had fallen ill, or when for that matter, but the morning Sydney found her in her office, looking near death, was ingrained in all of the involved people's memories. She was tossing, turning, mumbling and crying, yet still sleeping. Her brow was furrowed in confusion, and her skin was cold, but clammy. Miss Parker's face was pressed halfway into the cushion of the leather couch, her screams muffled by the almost-plush cushions.

Sydney arrived at seven, whether propelled by an undeniable force of kinship or Angelo, who watched from the air bent above, only he knew. He shook her shoulder, watching with concern as her eyes flew open and she whispered, "Sydney?" It was more of a croak, her voice choked by pain and tears. She seemed to breathe a bit easier than before, maybe because she'd been released from her dream, or maybe because she was no longer alone.

Miss Parker stared at him with fuzzy but alert eyes, and could tell he was worried, nearing terrified. Yet her helplessness impeded any effort she could make to calm him. He lay a hand over her forehead, and could feel the heat rising through his fingers. Parker's eyes were hot, her body fevered, and tears poured as a small relief.

"Parker," he breathed, his accent heavy, "what's wrong?"

With all of the sarcasm she could muster, Miss Parker replied, "Gee Syd, I think that's kind of an obvious one. I have a killer flu. What's it look like?"

His frown only deepened when she punctuated her sentence with a cough. "You didn't react quite so badly to Jarod's concoction of the flu," he reminded her. Had she been someone else, Parker might've actually found his concern touching, as it was, she could barely stand it. He placed a gentle hand in her own, and sighed when she flinched.

A minute and another sigh later, he removed it and whispered, "I'll be back." Turning with his back to the desk, he picked up his phone, dialing a familiar number, and whispering in conspiratorial tones to the person on the other end. Only later did Parker learn he was calling Jarod.

The last person she wanted to see. Because he could realize what was wrong, and that wasn't a risk she was ready to take. Yet.

For an older man, Sydney was balanced and strong, but sometimes immature. He lifted Miss Parker from the sofa, and carried her from the Centre in the most discrete way he could think of.

When she found herself at home, the woman decided that he most likely understood long before she wanted him too. The illness the only surviving Parker woman suffered was one her mother never endured. Yet, it was a result of the gift of the voices they shared. Unlike Catherine Parker, her daughter had an additional ability, another reason she was a Red File. Another reason she was suffering so listlessly. She could feel them.

An empath Parker was not. Yet, she could feel the pain they suffered.

Her sickness was the antithesis of physical. Sydney Green, Psychiatrist, would state that the symptoms were the physical manifestations of emotional turmoil the young woman was afraid to face and could not bury. Sydney Green, friend and sometimes confidante, could only wonder what had finally pushed his almost-protege over the edge.

"Let it out, Parker. You'll be... better, because of it, tell me what's wrong!"

The pain came in waves, causing her body to shake and heart to clench. Tears fell in response, and she gasped the words she'd been afraid to say. They were not what Sydney needed to hear, wanted to hear, but they were something just the same.

In a scream, the words erupted, alerting the person above the stairs that time was running out, "Nikolas! Tell... father! Save... girl!" Another wave of pain overtook her, and she fell into the welcomed darkness.

Sydney stood at the front of the sofa, still watching, worrying. Broots sat in the recliner, doing much of the same, but seemingly cowering in a cloud of confusion as well. A boy, who looked approximately twelve years old, with sandy-brown hair and brilliant blue eyes laid a cloth over her eyes and whispered, "It's okay now, Mama."

"My son, my son..." the words were slurred as she pulled him to her level. "Save your sister, save the girl. Promised..."

Recognition settled on his face, his eyes bright, "Is Father coming?" His voice was hopeful, his eyes afraid. Miss Parker was almost stunned at how her son had grown, when only 6 years ago she'd been bargaining for his life. Long before Jarod escaped, he'd had a son and a daughter. Long before he escaped, she'd saved the one and lost the other. Long before Jarod escaped, she'd lost her memories of her true family.

But now, she decided, he had to come back. Now.

"Go, go now!" She was very vocal, angry even. "Broots," it sounded as if she were saying 'boots' because of the slight slurring, "help boy. Now go. Save the girl, do what you must. I can't protect her much longer. Too hard, go... go!"

Broots and Sydney looked bewildered, but followed her orders, and Broots followed the boy. Nikolas.

Only when Jarod arrived an hour or so later did Miss Parker focus her eyes and try to explain. Again slurring, she began, "'m sorry, so... sorry. Made me choose..." Her voice was weak, pain folding over her body.

He glanced, confusion in his eyes, at Sydney, then dropped to his knees beside her, his hand grasping hers and trailing his fingertips over her face with the other.

"Daddy made me... get money from Tanaka, years 'go. Six, I think. Exchange for children, Nikolas and Katya, twins... freedom from... the Centre. Had to buy them 'way, bring home. Said, "Not good 'nough, Angel..." Told me to choose, 'gain. I didn't want.... He ripped check up and I screamed, he told me to get... boy. Girl would have to... stay," the pain again ripped at her insides, clawed at her flesh. Parker cried out, wondering how much more her little girl could take, how much more she herself could take. The girl felt no pain because her mother protected her from it, but the pain would kill her mother nearly as quickly as it would have killed her. Raines was not a man known for mercy. "It was okay, could protect 'er from outside. Could take her pain 'way," Tired, she was barely speaking. "Could save her from pain, so it wouldn't hurt 'er. Made me choose... 'tween our children," Jarod's back straightened, and his hand held hers a little tighter, his eyes began glowing, but he dared not interrupt. "Then I hid him, Nikolas, but... then accident... they made me forget 'em. I forgot... our children, Jar. So sorry, tell them I'm so sorry..." she whimpered. "But, 'membered while ago... had to save... brought boy home..." her back spasmed and she groaned. Her body was not accustomed to the pain, but at least, she thought, through the haze that clouded her brain, at least her daughter would not hurt as she did. She would not feel it. "Won't break her. Told her not to let them break her!" She began slipping from consciousness again, "Don't lose hope, don't... never lose heart. Will come back Katy, will not let them hurt my... lit'l girl." And as the muscles in her body relaxed and the pain gradually lessened in intensity, Miss Parker informed Jarod, "Safe... 'ey're safe now. Stay with... me. Stay, 'gain. Children are... safe."
And again the world was dark.

By the way, I'm going to throw in my disclaimer here since I forgot before: I don't own Jarod, Miss Parker, Sydney, T. Tanaka, Lyle, Broots, Mr. Parker, Raines, The Centre, or Blue Cove, Delaware (Hmmm... :-)). Just borrowing them for a bit of harmless fun...



Part Three: Further Revelations

Jarod's mind was in overdrive, his hands were barely steady, his heart barely contained within the confinement of his chest. With Miss Parker's words, he'd felt a great release, and the last answer seemed to fall into place. The loss Jarod had felt for years, though not physical, had pulled at his soul and confused him worse than anything the Centre had done before. He was not missing his mother, father, brothers, even his sister. He was not missing freedom or stability. For the years he'd been free, and even before then, he was missing his memories, his children, and the woman he'd once been allowed to touch without the confines of glass between them.

He slid the DSA into the slot on the silver case, and glanced over his shoulder at the sleeping MIss Parker, before settling his gaze on the screen. Sydney moved to stand behind him, his brow creased with concern and confusion, yet he knew all the while that something was linking his children together.

The date was August 17th, 1988. Miss Parker had returned from her schooling and was wandering the walls kind of haplessly, hoping beyond hope that Jarod would jump out and rescue her from the hell she was in. And he did.

"Miss Parker!"

"Jarod!"

They giggled and laughed in a way similar to how they'd done as children, though they were now in their twenties. Finally releasing each other from their hugs, she whispered to her companion, "Hide me, Jar. I don't want to go home tonight, it's so lonely."

Jarod nodded and grinned again, "Come on! I know the best place for hiding! Angelo showed it to me!"

They moved towards the area out of range of the camera that was capturing the DSA. "Angelo's still here? Really? I brought some Cracker Jacks for him, just in case! Where is he? I miss him, too!"

They chattered on like teenagers, their voices slowly filtering out of the microphone's range as well.

"Wonderful," a voice hissed, sort of breathlessly, into the darkness. "Mirage... will continue. Who better... than the daughter... with gifts even more... pronounced... than Cath...erine's?" The other figure, who was walking stoically beside Raines into the darkness of the outer hallway, nodded.

"True, Dr. Raines. Very true..."

Jarod removed the DSA, and placed another one in, oblivious still to Sydney's grimacing figure standing behind him.

The scene opened on September 30th, 1988. Two figures, shrouded again by the darkness familiar to their prison, snuggled together underneath the white sheets of a sterile-looking bed. Their peace was shattered when several men stormed into the room. Jarod was pulled in one direction, screaming and beating at his captors, while being told, "It's time for your brainwashing, Jarod. You won't be seeing Miss Parker again for a while..."

Miss Parker's father slapped her angrily, then ordered a sweeper to pull her from the bed and to his office, the opposite direction Jarod was going. She cried with rage and fear, yelling, "No! Jarod! Jarod! Help! Jarod!" and struggling against the sweeper.

Several minutes and silence later, Raines' and Mr. Parker's voices again filtered into the silence as they stepped into the small cell. "The conception has occurred."

"How can you be so sure?" Parker responded, glaring at the older man.

"Never doubt *a* Pretender. NEVER doubt *two* Pretenders, and forces beyond our control."

"What if these forces beyond our control allow them to find each other, and their children, again?" Parker asked.

"We make the children available to Miss Parker, for a short while at least. If one of them turns out to not be a very good Pretender, the boy, for instance, then we offer her the option to... buy... him back. We keep the girl. Once the boy is gone, we wipe her memory and then set the two up as adversaries. She's never going to know why he doesn't remember this... incident, so she'll be angry. Then, when and if he does remember, he'll never understand why, after she's forgotten, that she doesn't recall it. Very good plan, don't you think? If they never work together, we'll never fall apart." He paused, "You recall Project Clairsentience? It was never continued because of an unacceptable mother-daughter pair."

"You wanted to continue it with Catherine and my daughter," Mr. Parker acknowledged.

"Yes, but you interfered. Will you interfere this time? Miss Parker has her mother's gift, probably more than her mother's gift. She has the ability... not just to hear things... but to feel things. She will want to feel... the girl's pain. She may be our biggest asset yet. This project may save us all," Raines paused again, "Or kill us all. We will try, and we will succeed. With our Pretenders, and Miss Parker, as a Pretender and a... Feeler, ... our team will be unstoppable. We can perfect... the projects. Mirage..."

Mr. Parker nodded, thoughtfully. "Edna, Margaret, and Catherine... they hated Mirage."

"Do you doubt me?" Raines asked, testing the other man. He was growing quite annoyed.

With slight hesitation, he said, "It's not you I doubt. It's our fate. Our wives were the Centre. Our children... will be."

Jarod slid the disk out and shut the DSA case, finally turning to see Sydney standing behind him. "Why... didn't you... intervene?"

"I'm sorry Jarod, I didn't know. You have to believe... I would've saved you and Miss Parker if I had known."
His answer was soft, simple, and for Sydney, heartfelt.

Jarod nodded, his voice breaking as he spoke. He did not feel like battling with Sydney. "They turned us against each other, Sydney, when it's us. The Centre is us. And our children. We have to find..."

The front door flew open and Nikolas walked in quickly, holding the hand of a girl looking quite like him. Broots nervously looked out the door as he walked in behind them, then shut it quickly. The girl, his sister, had red-rimmed eyes and sort of tangled hair, and there were fading red marks on her bare arms, and a light scratch running from her forehead to her chin, right at the hairline. Both children looked more like they were eight or nine, due to the Centre's machinations, Sydney assumed. Not to worry, he decided, he, Jarod, and Miss Parker would have them overgrown before long. She'd probably even master the art of cooking just to help them.

Upon seeing the woman lying on the couch, barely sleeping, her clothes in disarray and her hand resting over her abdomen, the children both rushed to her, startling and waking her at once. Miss Parker sat up, at first looking bewildered, but upon seeing Jarod's knowing smile she calmed.

She gathered the two twelve-year-olds into her arms, and pulled them up onto the couch. Tears began to drip from her eyes sporadically as she alternated between kissing and hugging each child, pulling them tight into her sides. She murmured, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry I didn't come sooner, so sorry," into the girl's hair, then turned to Jarod, who was watching, afraid to do anything. Miss Parker supposed he felt a bit like a third wheel. She reached her hand toward him, and he glanced nervously at it, before taking it, and she pulled him towards them, and nodded toward the adjacent couch cushion.

He was anxious, thoughts thundering through his mind, wondering if his children would like him or not, wondering if they'd want him for a father, or if they'd rather he were dead. All of these notions lept from his mind with the small smile she gave him, and then she chuckled to herself, the pain gone, but the difficulty in breathing was not. "You're crushing me, angels."

Both children looked startled, and the girl instantly looked scared. "Not that I mind in the least, come back here," she told the girl, who'd fallen back, towards the couch arm. "I'm never going to let you go again. That is, after your father's had a turn. Nikolas, Katya, meet your father, Jarod. Jarod, these are your... our children. I'm sorry it took so long for us to find one another," she whispered, so that Sydney and Broots could not hear, "But we'll never be apart again. I'll see to that."

The children looked at him worriedly, both wondering whether or not he'd like them, just as he was wondering only moments before. They sat up, almost simultaneously, and felt the hands at their backs, their mother's hands. She was urging them on, to their father. Jarod's eyes were wide, unassuming, adoring, loving, gentle. "Our children," his voice cracked, and his eyes were filled with tears. He slid closer to Miss Parker and pulled the girl and boy into his arms, rocking them back and forth.

"Our children," he murmured again, letting go of Katy for an instant, just long enough to pull Miss Parker into his embrace as well. She stiffened at first, but relaxed within seconds, remembering the lover's embrace from nearly thirteen years before.

She smiled back at him over their heads, "Yes, Jarod. Our children. Our family."

Sydney and Broots sat in the recliners across from the couch, watching the reunion with a mixture of confusion, understanding, love, and fear. When the Centre found one of their experiments missing...

"Our answers," Jarod finished.

Thanks so much everyone, for all of the reviews and comments! I'm really glad you're enjoying this! It's been a while since I sat down and wrote a *fanfiction* for any fandom, particularly an actual third-person story :-) Do send more feedback, I enjoy it very much! :-)

By the way, I thought this might be useful...

Clairsentience- the psychic perception of smell, taste, touch, emotions and physical sensations, registered either internally or externally; superphysical sense perception



Part Four: The Centre, Lost

The wheels on the portable oxygen tank squeaked, screaming for oil. The footsteps that preceded the annoying sound were quick and hard, carrying more emotion that the man's entire being hard possessed in years. The state of the Centre was evident on his face, with his deeply-etched frown.

Mr. Raines was angry.

Rage blurred the gray area he lived in, turning shades of red and violet.

"Find the girl!" he growled at the team of sweepers and technicians gathered in his office. "And kill the boy and their mother. Should Jarod or Sydney stand in the way, dispose of all of them!"

Mr. Raines was very angry. And Angelo was very scared.

"Daughter scared, worry... Friend, too. Must help Daughter and Friend," he decided, scurrying through the airvents to where his DSAs were hidden, and his computer waited.

Mr. Parker was angry as well, with his daughter? Yes. With himself? Most definitely.

Had he not pushed her, had he not followed the plan, the girl would remain in the Centre. Had he followed his plan, his daughter and her children would all be inside the Centre, together, safer.

Project Clairsentience, T2 would be his. Mirage would be finished... the Centre would be winning. His Centre.

But he had not.

The Centre was losing, his Centre. Catherine and Edna and Margaret... their Centre was winning. The Centre that was lost.

Oh yes, Mr. Parker was angry, too. And Mr. Raines - "Dr. Billy" Raines - oh, how he would pay.

Mr. Parker threw the memo back on the desk and slid the fresh clip into his gun. This time, Raines was going to die.

He then exited his office, and Angelo jumped from the air vent. After retreiving the memo, he returned to his computer and began typing.

'Project Clairsentience, Trial 2, must be terminated. All subjects to be retrieved, dead. Security updates to follow.

WR'

Angelo stopped there, and began to type his own message. 'Daughter, run. Friend, too. And Friend's friends, run.' He finished and hit send.

The old Centre was angry. And they feared the new Centre, their creations.

In them, the Centre Lost would rise again.

I'm going out of town on business until Sunday or Monday or something like that, so this will be the last part for a while, or ever... depends, hehehe :) However, if anyone can figure out why the images at www.malenkaya.com don't show up right, I promise two parts just for whomever does :-) Isn't that bribery? Why, yes... and your point?

Sorry it's so short, but pleaaaaaase review :)

-L



Part Five: Ending of an Era

Ben's Inn
Maine
The Next Day

"Sydney's cabin will be suspect, this is the safest place for all of us," Jarod said, again.

Miss Parker sighed, and watched as he pushed the doorbell. She shifted the weight of the girl into mostly one arm and ruffled the hair of the boy that stood beside her.

Ben opened the door with the same weary but ever-present smile. His face lighted with happiness when he lifted his face to his guests. The older man enveloped Miss Parker, and inadvertently the children, in his arms. He drew back and shook Jarod's hand, then knelt to eye level with the boy.

"And who might this be?" he asked, his eyes flicking up to Miss Parker.

Jarod grinned proudly and answered, "Our children. Katya, who's called Katy, and Nikolas."

Ben's eyes and smile shone as he stood up. "You are definitely Catherine's daughter." Fleetingly, he touched her face, love filling the gesture. "Now, let's go have some tea. There's an awful lot we need to talk about, after all." He moved from the doorway and watched his 'family', compiled of both blood and water, enter in.

The discreetly parked black sedan's windows rolled down. Three men exited the vehicle and prepared to track across the street to the house.

From their vantage point across from the house, two of the men watched in horror as the house burst into flames, the windows shattered, and the ceiling began to cave.

Each of the men released a cry seperate to the other.

"Angel!"

"Miss Parker!"

The other man's mouth twisted into a satisfied smile. He sank back into the vehicle, a barely audible sigh carrying into the wind that propelled the flames.

"I warned you not to cross me, sis."

Sorry I'm going through so much... 'fluff', I'm still setting up the last bit of the plot so I don't have inconsistencies abounding or something like that. Hope you like this part, and yes, I'm baaaaaaaaaaaaaaa-aaaaaaaack!!!

Praying for snow, too. I need a breaaaaaak :-)



Part Six: Irony and Gravity


"You've had your way, Raines, " Sam was violent, angry even. He'd watched with irrepressable anguish as his boss had been killed.

Miss Parker, he knew, was his *friend* too.

William Raines was killed only hours before the exploosion. A rather interesting coincidence, Sam thought ironically. Mr. Parker said he was dispensable, Raines, that he was no longer useful.

True.

But Sam wised he could've used him for his own personal lab rat.

It was also funny, he'd decided, that a tip was phoned in on the twins' and their parents' whereabots only seconds before. Even funnier that the person calling in the tip didn't really exist, but called from a Centre operation in Maine. Of course, anything was possible with the Centre.

He walked through the corridors of the Centre and into Miss Parker's now-lonely, but not yet cleaned, office.

Something was going on, of that he was certain. What he found in the oddly placed trash can he bumped into only confirmed his suspicions. He unfolded the piece of paper that lay on top and moved the aluminum wastebasket back to where it belonged.

Sam would never forget Miss Parker's office.

He read the paper with wide eyes.

Sam,
1673 Firetower Lane,
Pierson, Connecticut

See you there.
-MP

Miss Parker, his boss, his friend, was alive. His eyes clouded with unshed tears, yet he wasn't truely surprised.

She was smart, if nothing else.

Yet he wondered just how she knew he'd find that note, and why exactly she cared enough to contact him - save him. He knew that's what she was doing, that she wouldn't risk her being found just for his help. Not when Jarod was already there.

"She's a Pretender too," he whispered, and pocketed the note, "but she's a Pretender with a heart."

A very big heart.

And Sam loved her, in his own way, a little more as he walked out of the building and to the new life waiting for him in Connecticut.

Part seven: Freedom of the Past, Pressure of the Future


The old man was standing in the door, a smile lighting his slightly wrinkled face. "Samuel," he nodded, surprising the younger man with the use of his given name. Far too often he forgot the name and it's prophecy. His mother had once held him in her arms and told him he was meant to be a listener, a problem solver. That's why she'd named him as she did. Sometimes, though, Sam forgot.

Ben waved the younger man in, pointing toward the living room down the hall from where the two men stood. "They're all congregated in there, planning, no less. Of course, I expect that of any daughter of mine." He grinned again, happy for the first time in decades. "Your Miss Parker is my baby girl you know, and all this time... I'm a grandfather too."

Sam couldn't help but grin widely, Ben's attitude and glee were contagious. For the first time in decades, Sam too felt as if things would be all right. "I think Monica said to tell you there's a surprise for you as well. An' it's one you're definitely going to like, son!" He patted the other man's broad shoulder and they tracked into the living room.

"Sam!" Miss Parker laughed, "I didn't expect you for another few hours," she looked better than Sam had seen her in a while, the yellow tint to her skin had faded, she no longer looked sick or tired, or even sad. Monica, Ben had called her. Well, Sam figured, she was definitely not Miss Parker anymore. She was just Monica. And Jarod was just Jarod. Funny how the most important people in the Centre had only one name.

Miss Parker was standing before him, and before Sam could break himself from his thoughts, she had enveloped him in an embrace. "I knew you'd find my note! Come now, we have much to do before something else happens, and I have a surprise waiting for you."

"Uhm, Miss Parker?"

"Monica, silly. Call me Monica, I thought my father told you to call me Monica?" She raised an eyebrow, and linked her arm through his, dragging him to the far side of the room where Jarod sat with two young children. All watched with amusement.

"Okay, Monica then. It's nice to see you happy," his words were almost bashful.

She laughed again, a lilting, innocent laugh. Not from sarcasm or irony, from joy and hope. She laughed as Jarod remembered her laughing from her childhood.

"You see, we only have a matter of time left. A short window in which we have to gain some control over the Centre's actions. We can't stop it as it is and it's far too late to destroy it. However, we can gain control and turn the Centre into what we want it to be," Monica Parker's dialogue began.

"Why just a short time?" Ben interrupted, for he too had been spared the tale until Sam arrived.

She shook her head, and Jarod watched with something akin to worry in his eyes as she continued. "I'm sick, very sick. The Centre can control me to a point. When I was younger, I was tested as a Pretender, the results were positive no less, but my mother, Catherine, made a deal with the Centre - the devil's advocates!- that they were to leave me alone, never train my ability, never harm her daughter. For some unknown reason, even after her death, they abided by their agreement. Perhaps it was too late to train me, or maybe Daddy -I still can't not call him Daddy- intervened. Regardless, the Centre never turned me into a Pretender.

"Instead, little over twelve years ago, they turned me into another project. A project I and the majority of the Centre personnel were aware of until just recently, Project Clairsentience. I gave birth to two children all those years ago, and given free reign over the world for the first year of their lives, then they were taken into the Centre. And that's how I was made to stay for another five years. During those years, Daddy had me convinced that I could have my children back if I'd sleep with the Yakuza -Tommy Tanaka, to be exact- and manage to get the money from him to essentially by my children from the Centre. During those years, the children were not trained as Pretenders, but were isolated from the outside world. They had free reign within the lower sublevels of the Centre, and could associate with the other children and employees," she switched gears, "Oh but I never slept with Tommy Tanaka for the money, no, I told him after the first few days we spent together what was going on. I have never held prositutes in very high regard, at least, I would never become one if I could get away with it, but Tommy was kind and good, he gave me the money and we became very good friends, even lovers for a short time. After the five years were over and I returned permanently from Japan to Blue Cove, Daddy told me the deal was off and that I would have to choose between my children, Jarod's and my children. I was distraught, upset, angry even! I still can't believe...

"In short, I vented my frustrations quite vocally and was told to take my son or leave him there. I took him, of course, and delivered him to a safe house, told him I loved him and that should he need me, to just concentrate as hard as he could and I'd know. I would help him, I would take away his pain. Just as I told his sister before I visited her last. To never lose hope, never lose heart, and never let them in, never let them break their spirits.

"Then, my memory of the six and a half years previous was wiped, I was beaten, and left in the Centre infirmary and told I'd been in a car accident. Shortly afterward, I took over Corporate. And a little over a year later, I took over the search for Jarod. All the while I experienced things ranging from migraines to ulcers to nightmares, silently whenever I could. I never wanted anyone to know, and some doctors could not explain it. I didn't understand myself, until several months ago when I dreamed of my children, my NIkolas and my Katya. I took it upon myself to find them, and found Nikolas through the dreams, basically, and brought him to my home. Together we found Katya and we made plans to rescue her when I fell extremely ill. By then, NIkolas and I had discovered that this project I became, Clairsentience, was exactly what the word means. Extra sensory perception of physical things, sights, sounds, touches, feelings... everything. And all of these years I'd been taking on the pain Katya and Nikolas couldn't or shouldn't have to experience. Both emotionally and physically, because of the... training, in essence, I had experienced during the first six years of their lives. I became a project Raines would be proud of."

Her words were bitter, angry, and she finally let go of Sam's arm and dropped her angry stance to sit beside Jarod on the sofa, and gather her children into her arms. "Since I was already so attached to my own children and had had them taken from me, they began the same thing with my baby brother, Parker, they call him. When they realize I'm alive, they'll hurt him to find me. He won't feel the pain, I will, and eventually it will bring me from hiding, so they think. And to a point, they're right. I plan to get my brother from that place before they can hurt him, because they can and will very easily go over that limit and kill him just to get to me and Jarod, and the children. The project itself isn't very valuable. The research on human connections, brain triggers and things of that nature are. They will even help further the Pretender project, proving that only approximately 150 people in the world can experience this connection, only those with the full Pretender gene, or Super-pretender gene. Jarod and I are full Pretenders, our children have the other gene though, which is stronger and makes them more succeptable to these things, all the more reason they had to be rescued from that... place! That's the only difference between the two, they're more likely to fall because they're more likely to try the projects, they are more, as I said, willing. We can't stop their nature, we can only stop the Centre from wanting to exploit it."

"Hasn't worked before," Jarod broke in, also bitter, but then he grinned, "Of course, we've never been on the same side before. At least, not in years." His eyes were full of affection, even love, and Miss Parker watched him with amusement in her own.

Sam smiled and then turned to look at Ben, who smiled back, the two both saw what Miss Parker was oblivious to.

"Katya, Nikolas," Ben interjected, "this is your mother and father, and now my friend, as well. Sam, these are my grandchildren, Katya and Nikolas." Sam smiled at the two children, and they grinned back.

"Mama, it's time for Uncle Sam's surprise!" Katya giggled, cuddling against her mother's side. Miss Parker laughed silently at Sam's surprised look, then stood, reaching out her hand. "That's right, sweetheart. Come along everyone, Sam's surprise is on the patio."

Ben reached the french style doors first, and slid them open quietly, then the troop filed outside. Nikolas yanked on the sleeve of the ex-sweeper's dress shirt and told him to close his eyes in a voice so soft only Sam could hear it. He did so without question, and only opened them when he felt a tug on his other shirt sleeve.

Ben, Miss Parker, and Jarod stood back at the door, and watched as Katya and Nikolas led him to the end of the alcove. Sam saw his surprise right away, in the form of a woman propped against the back of a lawn chair.

"Mother!" Sam cried, running to her and whirling her in his arms.

"Samuel, put me down before you hurt yourself! Or me! I am an old woman you know!"

Sam grinned as he sat her down, suddenly feeling like a little boy again. He grinned back at Miss Parker and her entourage, then took her hand and walked her into the house.

His Miss Parker certainly had given him a new life, and his old one back as well.

Part Eight Conclusion: Walking


Sam was yet again surprised. "Yes, Samuel," her words were teasing, laughing, "this is to be your and your mother's home. I thought it fit your personality perfectly when I first saw it. Simple, away from the rest of the world, but complex and lovely as well."
Monica Parker was her mother's daughter at last.
"Thomas found this house, didn't he?" Jarod whispered into her ear, startling her with the warmth of his breath and his closeness.
She nodded, and smiled, finally without the fear and sadness the years without her Thomas had added upon her already troubled countenance. Jarod's eyes danced as he watched her, managing to lose himself in her presence, something he'd not been able to do in the nearly thirteen years they'd been apart.
Without thought, he leaned in closer, only to hear the rest of the room chuckle when, just centimeters away from each other, they both jumped at the ringing of the telephone. Miss Parker's cellular phone.
A puzzled look crossed her face and she panicked for a second, whispering to Jarod, "But I'm dead!"
"No, you're not..." He grinned back. "The rest of us are. You were rescued, only four bodies were found at the scene."
The phone rang again. "What? You planned this and you didn't tell me?!" Parker sputtered, quite annoyed.
Jarod handed her the cell phone, finished with the tinkering he'd carried through, "You were too busy planning surprises and catching up on lost time. Now it's my turn. You'll do fine."
"WHAT the HELL do you WANT?" Parker nearly screamed into the phone.
"Angel! You're alright!" Mr. Parker sighed, obviously relieved, into the phone. "How do you feel? Where are you?"
Another act, thought his daughter. "Daddy," she almost choked on the word, "yes, I'm fine. I can't ... remember... what happened though. The doctors say that I must have amnesia, they think it's permanent," again, she was the Miss Parker the Centre had molded, her voice strong but monotone. Sounding obviously disappointed.
"The last thing I remember..." she glanced at Jarod, Ben, and her children. Ben nodded, urging her onward. "I... I remember being in the cemetery, Tommy... I..." she paused, her voice cracking slightly for good measure. "I want to come home, Daddy. I'll be there tomorrow."
"Good, we've missed you here, Angel. Your brother and I. We were absolutely distraught..."
Parker rolled her eyes at Ben and muttered, "Yeah, right," under her breath.
"What was that?" Mr. Parker asked.
"What? Nothing. I... I uhm, I'll see you soon Daddy. I'm tired... I must... go," she hit the end button.
Jarod was standing before her before she could hang up the phone. "Monica Parker!" his voice was angry. "This was not part of the plan! You're not going back!"
"Yes, I am." her voice left no room for argument.
"While we were waiting for you, Sam, Adella," Ben informed the sweeper and his mother, they discussed the plan for infiltrating the Centre. Parker was to accept the call, whether it be from her father or her brother, explain she had amnesia and tell him that she needed time to find the memories she'd lost. Then, she, Jarod, the children, and I were to board a plane for Europe to a house Catherine Parker left for her daughter after her death."
Sam grimaced, hearing Parker and Jarod argue quietly about her decision to act on her own.
"Jarod, get this through your god damn thick skull, NOW. They are MY children, too. I have known them since they were conceived, I gave birth to them, I raised them for the first years of their lives, fought for them, bled for them, and nearly died for them, before you even knew they existed. It's MY perogative to do whatever I please when it concerns them as long as it's for their wellbeing. And I WILL do this!" the tone of her voice increased throughout her tirade.
"Then I'm coming with you," Jarod nearly yelled. Behind him, Nikolas and Katya looked at each other, knowing something would have to be done.
"No, you're not." Parker said simply, her voice decisive and still. "You and Ben have to go with the children, I'll return to Blue Cove. There are things that must be done. And I'm the only one that can do them, don't you see? You'll only slow me down and if you were caught, my credibility would be gone and they'd take all of us to the Renewal Wing. That's not what we want, is it?"
He sighed, for once not Pretending, for once, giving in to her wishes.
His Miss Parker was right.
"Let me do this, let me save them, let me save us." She was almost pleading, "I have to go back, Jarod," her voice lowered to a whisper as the children inched closer to them.
"The Centre is where I belong."
Jarod shook his head and the children each reached forward and took one of her hands, none speaking because the words weren't enough.
"It's where I need to be."
She clenched her children's hands tighter for just a second, smiled at Ben, and leaned forward to place a tender kiss on Jarod's cheek. "I love you, never forget that, my heart. And never ever let them break you, you hear me? I've told you that many times, and if anything, that's the legacy I leave you. If I don't see you again..."
"No, Mama!" Katya whispered, and her brother ordered, "Don't say that!"
She shook her head, "Oh, my heart... I love you all." She smiled, "Sydney and Broots... they're waiting. There's so much left for me to do. I have to go home now... I'll try to see you soon."
She laughed to herself, smiling again, and letting go of her children's hands and Jarod's gaze. She looped her arms around her father's neck, hugging him tightly.
"Good-bye," she whispered, and she was gone.
If anything, Katya decided then, her mother was a dancer, an angel dancer. She didn't walk from the room, she danced, she faded.
Just like the mother before her, and the daughter after.

Epilogue: Destiny


Jarod felt broken inside, to a degree, even holding his children didn't mend the shatter.
"Why did she leave?" he asked the man on the other end of the phone line. Jarod sat in the window seat of his bedroom, watching the rain fall on the French hills she had bestowed upon her family as her mother had done for her. The stars not marred by clouds were bright and shining almost blue in the midnight sky.
"Jarod..." Sydney sighed, "You've known Parker since you and she were children. More than anyone, you know her. She was never meant to be what you're asking of her."
"She was!" Jarod argued, "They made her into something else, you made her..."
"No, Jarod. She looks like her mother and she has her mother's heart. She won't rest until the Centre hurts no one else. She won't live until everyone else has the same ability. And Miss Parker will never stop and let herself be free until there is no one else imprisoned as she once was."
"The children," he cried into the phone, "they need her."
"They understand, they know her. They need you now. Not her any longer. She has things she must do. You know that and so do they."
"Why did she have to leave me, though? Why couldn't I come too? The children... Ben could..."
"No, he couldn't." Sydney disagreed. "Monica and Catherine are of the same heart, the same mind, the same soul. And Katya will follow and be the same. The Centre held them prisoner moreso than the rest of us. And until all are free, they never will be. Catherine was free in death, however, Monica hasn't that luxury. She wasn't born to be all that you want, Jarod. She was born for this place, this town, these people. She can't be what you want. This is her home, Jarod. This is where she was meant to be."
"I'm her home! We're her home!" Jarod cried, his voice falling into sobs. "I'm sorry, Jarod. I truly am. You'll see her again, take comfort in that. She loves you and her children and that's all that she can give you. Cherish the time you've had, the love. She'll go back to you in the end.
"Remember, son, you can't ask but so much of anyone. Some people... are made to be only certain things. And Parker... she's made to be free, but her mother's heart and voice are inside of her, and they mandate that the Centre be destroyed and the victims be vindicated before she can be free. Whether or not she is free with or without you, that's your choice, and hers."
"What if her freedom comes only as her mother's did?" Jarod whispered.
"Then..." Sydney whispered, "That's up to destiny."
The click of the phone sounded in his ear, and he turned to look at the woman standing at the window in his living room. Her hand lay against the glass as she stared into the rain, the tears of fear and wonder, determination and need, rolling down her face.
And somewhere across the ocean a familiar star twinkled and words only they could hear were whispered from the heart of a woman that died fighting what had seperated the lovers on either side of the sea.
"Love is like the truth... it can kill you... or it can set you free."