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Chapter or Story 
Chapter or Story
Part 2
Jarod wasn't asleep. He wouldn't allow himself to do that in case he relaxed too much and let Parker go. A short while after he had closed his eyes, Jarod could feel that his reserves of energy had returned to their normal levels. Often going for long period with little sleep, he had evolved this method to help him recover from exhaustion before his escape from the Centre.
As his eyes opened, he looked down and saw that Parker was sound asleep. Her face was turned towards him and one back of one hand rested against his stomach, fingers curling gently in toward the palm, while the other, fingers spread wide, hung down towards the floor. Cautiously, he got to his feet, watching her to see if she would wake. When she didn't, he turned to the bed that Debbie had neatened and turned back. Jarod laid his former nemesis down gently, as if she could break, pulled up the covers and softly laid them over her sleeping body. He waited to ensure that she didn't stir before he left the room.
Sydney looked up to see the former child prodigy standing in the doorway. Jarod shut the door behind him and moved further into the room.
"Is she asleep?"
Jarod nodded, yes, but moved silently across to the only empty chair around the table. Then, suddenly, he broke out of his reverie and looked around.
"Where did all the extra furniture come from?"
Broots grinned. "I remembered how sparsely furnished your lairs usually are, so Debbie and I went and borrowed some more chairs. There are a couple of beds there too, one each. If one was set up in the bedroom, there'd be plenty of room for the rest of us." He looked around the room that was fortunately very large, although with the extra furniture it had seemed to shrink a little.
Sydney looked up as Broots finished talking. "I guess you need to think about - are you done with the latest...?"
Jarod nodded. "Yeah. I was about to move, today actually."
"You don't have much stuff," Debbie remarked, before her father could stop her, and Jarod smiled, the first genuine smile that Sydney had seen since arriving.
"I know. I travel light. I don't need much stuff because I don't have a real home, you see. Not like you've got, with your Dad."
"Oh," Debbie's face fell. "Poor you. I think everyone should have a proper home."
"I think so, too. But lots of people don't. Not just me."
Jarod gave a second, half-hearted smile and, as Broots had gently kicked his daughter under the table as a warning, there was silence.
"Jarod, you have to eat."
"I'm not hungry."
"You still need to eat something. It would do any good if you don't. You need to be strong, not just for Parker, but for yourself."
With a mixture of threats, cajoling and encouragement, Sydney finally convinced Jarod to finish the food that was in front of him. After the last mouthful, Jarod looked up, a hint of a smile curling the edges of his mouth.
"You know, you really sound like a father sometimes."
Sydney laughed in response, a sound that Jarod had rarely heard, despite the long time they had spent together. Broots, too, looked sharply over his shoulder as he washed the breakfast dishes.
After pushing the empty bowl away, Jarod got up from the chair and moved over to the sofa where Debbie was sitting.
"Did your Dad tell you anything about what's wrong with Miss Parker?"
Debbie looked up and shook her head. "No. He just said she was sick and that I should stay out of trouble and out of the way."
Jarod grinned at the typical remark. The only time he had known the technician to be strong, and occasionally stubborn, was where his daughter was concerned. But, as he recalled the topic of discussion, the smile faded.
"Parker's...very sick. She got a really bad bump on the side of her head, which is why it's all bruised. But it caused a problem in her thinking. She's got a thing that people like Sydney call regression. That means she's thinking like she did when she was younger."
"So she's my age?" the girl asked curiously.
"She's thinking the way she did when she was your age, yes,” Jarod agreed. "But that means she won't know who you are, or your Dad either, because she only recognizes people that she knew when she was younger, like Sydney or me. And she didn't know you then."
Debbie was silent and Jarod continued. "She's also got a fever from the knock to her head. That's what I was buying when you arrived, things to make that better. Unfortunately we can't make her mind better yet."
"When you do, will she be the way she was before, or will she be different?"
"I don't know, Debbie. It'll depend on a lot of different things. She might say some things that sound very strange to you, but if you want to know, ask Sydney or me, okay? 'Cause your Dad may not know about them."
"Okay."
"For now, though, I don't actually want her to see you. If she did, she might get a little confused and we want to help her with things before she thinks the way she did before this knock to her head. Do you understand?"
"You mean there's problems she needs help with?" Debbie prompted.
"Exactly."
"Oh." She paused thoughtfully. "But I can see her eventually, can't I?"
Jarod nodded. "Of course, eventually."
He sat on the camp bed and looked at the figure on the bed. The entire afternoon had passed and the last rays of light were streaming in through the window and onto where he sat. He watched as Miss Parker's eyes fluttered and then slowly opened. However, he was startled to see the tears that began rolling down her cheeks as soon as she looked at him. But that shock was nothing compared to the words she uttered.
"No…Why…Jarod's dead!"
He jumped off the bed and gathered her in his arms. "No, Parker, I'm not dead. I'm still here, I promise."
She heard nothing of what he said and continued in soft moans that were heart-rending. "Momma an’ Faith an’ Jarod - all dead. I only want Daddy dead. I don't want Jarod to die. Please, don't let him die. No, please." The woman began to sob savagely. "Why did Jarod have to die? I don't want him to die. He's my only friend. Let him stay with me."
Sydney heard the desperate sobbing and the pleading voice as he picked up the small cup in which he had prepared a dose of the medicine Jarod had bought. As he went into the room, he saw the emotion on Parker's face and the desperation on that of the man holding her.
"Parker, listen to me." He spoke sternly and watched as she began, very slowly, to calm down. "I want you to swallow this for me, okay?"
There was an almost imperceptible nod and Sydney tilted the cup so that a little of the mixture went into Parker's mouth. After waiting, he performed the same act a number of times until the dose had been given. After several long, tense minutes, the sedative began to work and she relaxed. Jarod put her back onto the pillows and pulled up the blankets. Then he looked up, and the pain in his eyes, which were full of unshed tears, caused the older man's heart to ache.
"What is it?" he asked softly. "What did she say?"
"She said…she said I was dead, Sydney. Why did she say it? Couldn't she see me there, sitting on the bed beside her? Couldn't she feel me holding her?"
Sydney understood the question that Jarod wanted to ask but couldn't, as he put out a hand and gently rested it on Jarod's arm. "You can't do anything to help her with this yet. She needs to get over the fever before we can even begin to deal with any of the other problems." He glanced around the room, trying to find the source of Parker's thought. The lay glow of light on the bed in the corner gave him an idea and he nodded in that direction. "Were you sitting there with light all around you?"
"Yes." Suddenly Jarod understood. "You mean she thought she was dreaming that I was there and that I was really…?"
"Dead? Yes, I think so. You told me once that you sometimes see the image of your mother. It would be much the same, I'd imagine, with her, except that her fever made her see you as a kind of angel, in much the same way as she told me she saw Faith when she was in hospital with peritonitis. Remember?"
"I could never forget that," the Pretender muttered.
He sighed and turned away from Sydney to where the stars had begun to appear in the sky. A hand on his arm made him turn back.
"Jarod, you're exhausted. Why not get a little sleep now? That medicine should keep Parker comfortable for a few hours yet."
Jarod nodded and moved over to the bed. When he was sitting down, Sydney left the room, closing the door behind him. His face was the only sign of his concern, criss-crossed with lines of worry.
Broots looked up and immediately the concerned expression on his face mirrored Sydney's. "She's worse?"
The other man shook his head. "Just no better."
"And Jarod?"
"Sleeping soon, I hope." He looked around the room. "Where's Debbie?"
"Shopping. She volunteered and the store’s just around the corner. Jarod didn't have much in his cupboards, certainly not enough to feed us all for the time we look like being here."
Sydney tried to smile, but his anxiety about what had just happened in the bedroom prevented him from doing so. "Judging by what's wrong, I'd say we could be here for a while."
"Syd, just what is wrong?" the technician prompted.
Sydney thought for a couple of minutes. Then he told him.
Jarod hadn't believed he could sleep, but nature had briefly been too strong and the room was dark when he opened his eyes again. He moved over and switched on the lamp beside the bed on which Miss Parker lay. The small circle of light illuminated her face and the top half of her body and Jarod was relieved to see that the medicine seemed to be having an effect. The flush in her cheeks was a healthy pink rather than a flushed red, and her hair, instead of damply sticking to her forehead, lay in dry waves on the pillow.
He sat down in the chair beside the bed. Cautiously he stretched out a hand and, with the very tips of his fingers, gently brushed her cheek. As though in response, her lips parted with a gentle sigh. Jarod smiled and then wondered at himself for daring to do what he had just done. This was, after all, the woman who had been pursuing him for so many years, however it was easier to believe that now, when she was asleep, than when she looked at him with those childish eyes. Then, he could almost think, she was little different from the girl she had been when they had played in the bowels of the Centre together.
Broots slowly paced the room. Even the little Sydney told him had disgusted the technician. No, disgusted was the wrong word. Repelled, appalled, even revolted by the thought that Mr Parker could violate his own daughter in that way. Broots thought of someone doing something like that to Debbie and felt a flame of anger grow inside until he wanted to hurt the man of whom he had, until recently, been so terrified, as much as that man had hurt his daughter. Fists clenched at his sides, he walked the length of the room while Sydney repeated the facts that had been revealed to them so far.
He suddenly cut across the explanations." I don't want Debbie to know this."
"I can understand that," Sydney responded softly. "But where could she go? Who could you trust? If anyone from the Centre got hold of her - I don't even want to think what they might do to her to get you back and working for them."
Broots was silent for a moment. "Are any of us safe any more?"
"Have we ever been?"
They looked up as Jarod walked into the room. He sat in one of the chairs and looked at the other two men in the room. Sydney spoke first.
"What do you mean?"
"What I said. Even working for them, none of us have ever been safe. Catherine, Jacob, Kyle, Angelo…they're all proof of how unsafe we are."
The two Centre operatives considered this and realized he was right.
"So what can we do?"
"In the long term, we could destroy the Centre as we know it. It was once a very productive and positive place. There's no reason why it couldn't be returned to that, once we get rid of negative influences, like the Triumvirate."
"And in the short term?"
"I guess we need to look out for ourselves. I know people with whom Debbie would be perfectly safe, if you don't want her with you."
"I bet you do." Broots grinned half-heartedly but the topic was too serious for banter.
Sydney looked up. "And then what, Jarod?"
"I don't think we should plan much for the near future until…until we see how Parker responds."
She watched as the man slowly approached her bed. Despite the shadows, she could recognize her father’s form and silently screamed within her head for someone, anyone who could come and save her from this situation. Then, as she looked down, she could see the gun in her hand. In a daze, she raised her arm and, without taking aim, pulled the trigger. The sounds of death filled her ears and her eyes couldn't pull away from the sight of her father writhing on the floor in front of her. In a state of shock, she looked down at the gun in her hand and, in horror, tried to throw it away. Then she discovered that it had stuck to her hand and, moreover, was coming up to her head. She fought but the power was too strong and the pistol pulled her hand to her forehead and pulled the trigger.
As she crashed to the floor, Parker's sobbing interrupted the conversation in the outer room and Jarod, running into the room, picked her up in his arms and held her. He could feel that every muscle was tense and her heart was pounding as she sobbed violently. "I killed him…and then I killed myself. Oh, it hurts, it hurts!"
He knew better than to tell her that it was only a dream and, while rocking her, spoke softly in her ear. "What was it, Parker? Tell me what happened."
"I killed him. My Daddy. I killed him and then the gun killed me." The terror in the girlish voice rose rapidly in pitch but, before she reached the level of hysteria, Jarod spoke.
"Parker! Parker, look at me. Come on. Open your eyes and look at me."
She moaned but the calm voice had checked the panic and the eyes that opened and focused on him, although full of terror, were not beyond reason.
"J…Jarod?"
"Yes, Parker. I'm here." His voice was soothing. "It's okay."
"I…I shot my Daddy."
"Parker, it just was a bad dream. Do you understand? Just a nightmare. Nothing more. You didn't shoot anybody."
"S…sure?"
"Yes, Parker." He gently stroked her hair as he held her in his arms. "I’m sure."
"Then what was the loud bang?"
"You fell out of bed, sweetheart."
"And Daddy isn't..."
He wrapped his arms more firmly around her and rocked her again. "You've been here all the time and Daddy isn't here. I promised he wouldn't be, remember?"
Parker nodded. "I 'member." She snuggled up against Jarod. "And you promise I didn't do it?"
"I promise."
"And I'm not dead?"
"No, you're definitely not dead."
She threw her arms around his neck and he held her firmly to stop her slipping to the floor. As she put her head on his shoulder and snuggled into his neck, Jarod sat down in the chair beside the bed. Stroking her hair, he could feel as her heart rate decreased and she began to calm down from the heightened sense of terror into which the dream had thrown her. He rocked her and slowly felt her breathing become deeper and more measured as she relaxed. Of concern was the fact that her temperature appeared to be rising again and, although he had hoped that she was recovering from the fever, it seemed that it would take longer than he had anticipated. As he sat, rocking her in his arms, he wondered if they were really safe. There were other places that they could all go, however he didn't want to move Miss Parker in her current state. His one encouragement at the moment was that it seemed unlikely that Miss Parker would want to return to the Centre, but what her opinion would be when she was in her right mind was almost impossible to judge.
It was at this point that Parker's arms slowly slipped down from around his neck and hung towards the floor. She sighed deeply and moved her head slightly on his shoulder. A stroke to her hair calmed her and, seconds later, he knew that she was asleep. Jarod was becoming expert at putting her to bed and she didn't even respond at all as he put her on the mattress and covered her. Doing so, he had to wonder how many more times he was going to have to respond to her terror before the problems could be resolved. It was terrifying to him that a parent could do that to his only child and he silently swore that she would, one day, have revenge. As he came into the outer room, Sydney looked up.
"Jarod, are you making a promise you can't keep?"
The younger man raised his head, anger burning in his eyes. "Syd, I'm telling you now that if Mr Parker ever comes through that door, he won't leave this building alive."
August 10 1968
""Help us, Lord! There is not a good man left; honest men can no longer be found. All of them lie to one another; they deceive each other with flattery. Silence those flattering tongues, O Lord! Close those boastful mouths that say, 'With our words we get what we want. We say what we wish, and no one can stop us...' Keep us safe, oh Lord, and preserve us from such people." (Psalms 12:1-8)
Jarod looked down at the Bible quotation. It was rare that Catherine only wrote a quotation and no comment to accompany it, but perhaps whatever had prompted her to write that quote on that day had required no other comment. That day for him had been a relatively positive one. It was on that day that he and Kyle had learnt to communicate, despite being in different cells. The memory of that time brought tears to Jarod's eyes. His grief for his brother was only partially abated and there were still times when he wondered if he could have done anything to save him. The memory of Kyle's death brought to mind another member of the Centre's team, and one to whom Jarod had given little thought over the past few days. Lyle. There had to be a method of paying back Lyle for everything that they, he and to a lesser extent Parker, had suffered at that man's hands. And when Parker was recovered, he was determined to do something about it. Not now. But later.
Sydney moved over to the doorway and looked into the room. Jarod was sitting on the camp bed watching the woman, who lay on the bed where he had put her after watching the most recent dose of medicine take effect.
"Jarod, we're ready to go."
The young man looked up. "Is everything packed?"
"Everything except the sheets on Parker's bed."
"Okay." He stood up and moved over to the bed. "Sydney?"
"Yes, Jarod?"
"Pack this as well. We'll need it later."
Sydney looked down at the diary that was held out to him and nodded as he took it. It was going to be very important in the recovery process for all of them.
Jarod walked over to the bed and picked the woman up, feeling as her head rolled onto his shoulder and her arms hung limply at her sides. Although he knew that the sedative was powerful, he half-waited for some sign that she felt him, but none came. He backed away and, as the other man stripped the sheets off the bed and rolled them into a bundle, he wrapped her still form in a thick blanket. Being meant for a double bed, it was big enough to cover her completely and he knew that she would feel none of the cold night air.
Leaving the building with the woman held tightly in his arms, he relished, as he always did, a sense of freedom he felt at being free of the Centre. He couldn't help suddenly wondering what it might feel like not to ever have to worry about the Centre again.
Sydney followed him down the stairs with the last of the bags. Broots, waiting at the bottom of the stairs, took them and Sydney picked up Debbie from where she lay on the garden seat. She, too, was asleep, but this was a natural sleep, unlike Parker's. Broots had tried to wake Debbie, but the girl had remained asleep and Jarod had laughed quietly as he had scooped up Debbie and, followed by Broots, had carried the girl down the stairs and put her on the bench. The girl and her father had stayed there for the few minutes before Jarod reappeared with Parker in his arms. Now, as Broots slipped into the front passenger seat, Sydney arranged Debbie next to him, so that her head rested on her father's lap. This left just enough room for Sydney himself to sit, as the seat had sufficient space and seatbelts for three and, as Sydney fastened the belt around the still figure of the girl, he was grateful that Jarod had managed to obtain the vehicle for the move.
Jarod, meanwhile, had sat Parker on the central of the three seats and had done up the seatbelt over her lap. The only problem, he found, was that when he let her go to get into the car himself, she slid over and lay down on the seat. Sydney muffled a laugh as he saw the dilemma and held her firmly while Jarod sat on the seat behind the driver and did up his own belt. Grabbing a pillow from the pile in the back of station wagon, Jarod put it on his lap and Sydney then allowed Miss Parker's head to rest on the soft surface. The psychiatrist swung her legs up onto the seat behind where Broots sat and did up the other belt to ensure that she was secure. Another blanket, wrapped well around the unconscious form, would be sufficient to keep her warm. Sydney got into the driver's seat and they drove away.
"Daddy?"
The technician looked down at his daughter. "Yes, Debbie?"
"Where are we?" The young face, bright from sleep, sat up and looked through the windscreen.
"We're leaving Delaware, for a little while anyway."
"Does that mean I won't have to go to school anymore?"
Broots glanced across and Sydney and laughed. "We-ell, I don't know. Sydney's a pretty good teacher. Maybe you could learn your lessons from him."
Debbie glanced at Sydney with a smile on her face before she looked back at her father. "But he'll be too busy taking care of Miss Parker to teach me."
"I think he'll make time." Broots looked over to Sydney for confirmation but a nod of Sydney's head in the direction of the back seat made Broots look around to see Jarod with his head lolling back against the headrest of the seat as his hand gently rested on Parker's head.
Sydney pulled up outside the large building. He stared at in shock before turning to Jarod, who sat in the back with a hand resting on the sleeping woman.
"Are you…sure…this is where you meant?"
Jarod smiled. "I'd forgotten that you were here that day, when Kyle..." His voice trailed off and he looked at the Dragon House with satisfaction.
Sydney undid his seatbelt and got out of the car. He was about to come around and help Jarod with Miss Parker when a figure stepped out of the front door of the building. Sydney's hand dropped from the handle of the car door and glanced from the young man who was approaching to Jarod, who had managed to climb out of the car, leaving Miss Parker lying on the car seat.
"Good to see you, Nicholas," the Pretender called as the figure came closer.
"Hi Dad. Thanks for the call, Jarod."
"Where's...?" Jarod's sentence went unfinished as another figure ran out from the building and into Sydney's arms.
After the reunion, Jarod hurried the group around to a vehicle parked behind the building. Michelle had already packed her belongings and those of her son into the large storage area of the seven-seat wagon and, with the help of Sydney, Broots and Debbie, the belongings from the car were now added to them. The process took only ten minutes and then, with Sydney behind the wheel, Michelle next to him, Nicholas, Debbie and Broots in the very back seat and Jarod and Miss Parker taking up the remaining spaces, the wagon headed off in a different direction from the way they had come.
Although Parker roused once during the journey, Jarod had prepared a dose of the medication and her time of awareness was very short. In fact Jarod doubted if she would have realised they'd even left his lair. Finally, after several hours of driving through very mountainous terrain, with badly made roads and high walls of rock on either side of the vehicle, they pulled up outside a spacious and fairly modern property. The car stopped and five of the seven occupants got out and stretched their legs. Jarod undid the fairly complicated series of belts that had kept Miss Parker still on the journey and then, getting out, turned to pick her up from the seat. She responded groggily, the dose wearing off as he lifted her.
"Jarod, where are we?"
"Safe, Parker. Somewhere that Daddy will never find you." At the mention of her father, she shivered and hid her face in Jarod's neck. The last hour of the drive had been punctuated by a series of nightmares in which she had seemingly been reliving some of the worse things that her father had done to her. Fortunately the dreams had been silent and only he had seen the twitching and beads of sweat that betrayed her torment.
As Jarod carried Parker up the stairs and entered a room on the second floor, he recalled the conversation that had resulted in their sudden move.
"Are we really safe here?"
"Haven't you learned anything from knowing me? You aren't safe anywhere!"
Sydney faced the younger man. "That's not fair, Jarod. We haven't been through what you have and we couldn't know."
There was a moment of silence. "You're right, Sydney. I'm sorry Broots but this situation has me more tense than usual, I guess. It's the responsibility, as much as anything."
"So are we going to move?"
"I really think we have to. Too long in any one spot is likely to arouse suspicion."
"And…is Miss Parker up to it?"
Jarod sighed and, standing, began to pace the room. "I don't know. In an ideal situation, we'd wait until the fever broke properly before we moved her, but we don't have that luxury. I suppose the best thing to do is to sedate her and move before she wakes. It's a risk, but so is staying here."
"And it's necessary?"
"I think so. I know the Centre doesn't have you watching out for me, but there's still Lyle and Brigitte, and I'd prefer not to have to watch the two of them drag us all back there before we can do everything that needs doing."
"So we move...?"
"Tomorrow. Evening. And we'll need to do it quickly, so let's get organised."
Jarod wrapped Parker more tightly in her blanket and put her down on the deep, padded chair in the corner. Then, turning, he reached into the bag that had been swinging on his arm and extracted the sheets. Making the bed took only a few minutes and he kept up a steady conversation with her while he did so.
"How come we moved?"
"So that no one would find us."
"And they won't find us here?"
"I hope not."
"Can I see Timmy soon? I really miss him. We talked all the time."
"I…don't know, Parker. Maybe soon, but I'm not making any promises."
"But you promised about my Daddy."
Jarod's voice was soft but firm. "I only make promises that I know I can keep."
Sydney stood beside the bed and watched as nightmares ravaged the figure that lay on it. The cries that came from the partly open mouth, although soft, were a torturous reminder of what he had put Jarod through. Turning he could see Miss Parker also suffering but silently as though not wishing to detract from Jarod's pain. A hand on his shoulder made him turn again and he saw Michelle standing beside him.
"It's not your fault."
"But why didn't I see it? Why couldn't I have done something to prevent it?"
"You couldn't possibly have known."
"I knew what this was doing to Jarod. I just never did anything about it. I was a coward, hiding behind official protocol and convincing myself that everything would just work itself out."
He hid his face in his hands and listened to the sounds that came from Jarod's mouth as he slept. Michelle reached out and drew him to her, holding him as the full impact of what he had unleashed on one innocent person and had allowed to happen to another began finally to dawn on him. The almost savage sobbing did what the whispered conversation had not and Jarod woke, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and sitting, waiting, until Sydney calmed down.
Broots sat out in a chair on the veranda and watched as Debbie swung herself up into the apple tree that grew in front of the house, the top branches of which reached almost to the third-storey windows. As she drew level with those on the second floor and looked in, Broots could almost imagine that he heard her gasp before she scrambled down to the ground. Slipping the last few feet, she dropped to the ground and, as her father hurried over, looked at him out of wide eyes.
"What is it?"
"It…there's something wrong up there. Sydney looks really upset and Michelle's comforting him and when Jarod saw me looking in through the window, he shook his head and waved at me to go away. Daddy, what's going on?"
Broots stroked her hair and his voice was vague as he looked up to the window of the room. "I don't know, Debbie. I really don't."
"Do you blame me?"
The voice came out of the darkness but Jarod had been anticipating the question and, as he sat in the lower branches of the same tree that Debbie had climbed, paused before giving an answer.
"I did. For the first months outside the Centre I blamed you for it all - everything I never had in my life. And every time I discovered something new, I told myself it was your fault I hadn't learned about it before." There was a further pause. "Now I can see how much of it was you and how much was the Centre. Yes, Sydney, I still blame you. But not as much as I used to."
Sydney moved away from the building and into the space beneath the tree. "And Miss Parker? Do you think she blames me?"
Jarod thought for several seconds, during which time he struggled to understand the woman whom he had loved and feared, respected and pitied for so many years. "I think…I think that, like many other victims of abuse, she probably blames you for not seeing what was going on, for not being there to help her to escape from the situation. Not just you but everyone around her. Even though she wouldn't have mentioned what was happening, she would still have wanted someone to see, to ask if everything was okay, and to try and save her from the horrors that her father unleashed on her."
"But…she adores her father. Is it possible to love and hate someone at the same time?" Sydney's confusion was only momentary before a flash of insight allowed him to understand but he was so deep in thought that he failed to notice Jarod's lack of response to the question, answering it himself. "Maybe you can. I mean, I…you…"
Sydney's voice trailed away as he stopped himself from referring to the situation between Jarod and himself and which, he suddenly realized, was very like that of Miss Parker and her father. The figures of torturer and victim were apparent in both circumstances, and in both cases the victim had formed a close tie with their tormentor. He thought again in silence that now extended for several moments but Jarod was waiting for the question when it came.
"Do you really blame me?
Jarod jumped down and turned to face Sydney. "It doesn't really matter whether we blame you or not. You blame yourself so much now that anything we do or feel can only be insignificant."
A moment passed, then another. Sydney hesitated, realizing that what had just been said was simply voicing his feelings.
"How did you know?"
Jarod grinned, and even in the near-darkness, Sydney could see the expression on his face. "I am what you made me, a Pretender, remember? Besides, even if I wasn't, I'd expect to be able to understand you by now."
Finally Jarod hugged the other man, trying to make him understand that, despite the problems that existed, he forgave him fully and freely for the past.
August 1, 1967
""Do not be afraid - I am with you! I am your God - let nothing terrify you! I will make you strong and help you; I will protect you and save you. Those who are angry with you will know the shame of defeat."(Isaiah 41: 10)"
Sydney's eyes read over the biblical quotation without taking in its meaning. How could he be expected to understand it when his eyes were always coming back to rest on the woman that lay on the bed? For almost an hour they had tried to convince Jarod to go to the bedroom assigned to him. Eventually, after a great deal of persuasion, Jarod had yielded but Sydney suspected that his former protégée would get little sleep that night. Shaking his head slightly to dispel the memory of the argument, Sydney looked again at the diary.
"I know that I will need of all the strength I possess to assist Sydney and Jacob to remove the children from the Centre. When I think of the struggle it will involve, I am close to losing my nerve. I sometimes wonder if I will look back on this diary once the situation has been resolved and laugh at myself for my fears. Or will I understand them and realize just how right I was? I am thankful that they, at least, show no fear and are both determined to help me get the children out."
Jarod lay with his fingers intertwined behind his head as he stared up at the cracks in the ceiling. He wondered, as he often had in the past, what had made Miss Parker turn from a childhood friend to the enemy she had so often seemed. There were occasions, it was true, that they had been able to understand each other, however that had rarely occurred face to face, when both were in their right minds and even then Parker's sense of uneasiness was always obvious. His mind traveled back to the day before she was to travel to Japan. He had gone to see her in the small room on the Centre where she studied when not at college, a place where her father could keep an eye on her, and recalled the conversation they had had.
"Parker?"
"What do you want, Jarod?" The coldness of her voice had disconcerted him for a moment, but he had naively assumed that the thought of leaving was distracted her.
"I was kind of hoping you would stop in to say goodbye."
Parker remained with her back to him and her shoulders hunched over her book. "Well, I guess I didn't."
"Can't I...won't you at least give me a hug g’bye?"
"I have work to do."
"Please?"
"No, Jarod. Go away, before I call Daddy."
Jarod had sat behind the cover of the vent for several seconds, staring at the wall in front of him with the pained expression that he wore now. He recalled the pain that he felt in the depths of his chest as he had crawled back to his room along the dark and dusty tunnels, having been so caught up in his own thoughts that it wasn't until later that he had even vaguely remembered seeing Angelo in one of the branches of the passageway.
Sydney looked at Parker as she lay on the bed. He was surprised to see that she wasn't tossing as vigorously as she had done on previous days and he remained hopeful that the fever was finally breaking. With any luck, she could recover from the illness and then they could begin to explore the deeper problems. His thoughts drifted back to the comments about himself that he had read in Catherine's diary. If only he had been as determined as she had imagined him to be, the current situation would not ever have existed. With a deep sigh, Sydney pulled his eyes back to the diary in front of him.
November 26, 1969
""Lord, you understand. Remember me and help me. Let me have revenge on those who persecute me. Do not be so patient with them that they succeed in killing me." (Jeremiah 15:15)
If I am to die, and I feel sure that that time is drawing ever closer, then I pray that God will allow my daughter to gain revenge on my behalf. If I am unable to release the children, then I pray that God will give Sydney and Jacob, should he ever recover, the courage to finish the work that I have begun. And if the latest project does go ahead, may it be found out and the Centre exposed by the authorities to the fullest extent of the law."
Jarod's eyes widened and he sat upright in bed. The next minute he was flying down the stairs and into the living room of the house.
"Sydney! Angelo...What about...? Sydney?"
Michelle looked up from the book that she was reading. "Sydney's in with Miss Parker. What's the matter, Jarod?"
She heard his voice call something indistinct back and a small smile curled her lips as she picked up her knitting. The man, meanwhile, took the stairs two at a time and was rapidly outside the door of the room allocated to Miss Parker. There he found Sydney, who had heard his calls and progress on the stairs.
"Well, what is it Jarod?"
"Angelo...We left Angelo in the Centre. I have to go back for him, Syd. We can't leave him there..." Jarod's voice trailed off, watching in amazement as Sydney moved deliberately to one of the windows in the hallway and stared out of it, down towards the driveway.
Jarod was about to accost Sydney again with his fears regarding Angelo when the door of the house slammed. Something inside him made the Pretender turn and hurry down the stairs and although he withdrew his gun from the holster he had put on for the trip to the new house and still wore, it was from habit rather than fear.
He burst in through the door of the kitchen and stopped, staring at the figure that had just entered through the front door. Then, with a strangled cry of joy, Angelo leaped at Jarod and hugged him. Looking over Angelo's head, Jarod saw Nicholas and Broots enter the building and, at the same moment, realized that both Sydney and Michelle were standing behind him. A mock-glare creasing his features as he released his hold on the empath, Jarod looked around.
"And how long has this been planned?"
Sydney tried to look innocent and failed miserably. "For a while. Since we all got here, actually. I was worried that you'd notice their absence but obviously you didn't."
Jarod couldn't help grinning. Sydney was about to speak further when a sleepy voice was heard from the doorway.
"Daddy, what's going on?"
Broots walked over, his expression stern. "Why aren't you asleep, young lady?"
"I heard all this bumping and banging and I didn't know what was happening."
Sydney shot a glance at Jarod, who laughed. Walking over to Debbie, he bent down in front of her as he explained. "That was me. I guess I made a bit of noise when I ran down the stairs. Sorry."
"Now you know," Broots interposed, "I think you should go directly to bed."
Jarod offered her a hand. "Come on, piggyback."
Debbie giggled as she climbed on and the two of the left the room. Meanwhile Angelo had found a bag of marbles and, while he played with them, the other adults watched silently.
As Jarod closed the door of Debbie's room, he heard a voice calling from further along the hall. The feeling, half-hope, half-fear, that he had not voiced even to Sydney, that Miss Parker might have returned to her normal state of mind when the fever broke, caused him to cautiously approach the room, but his first glimpse of her showed that the feelings had been unjustified. Her blue eyes were wide and full of curiosity.
"Jarod, when's Momma coming to get me?"
As the man moved over to the bed, trying to work out the best answer to give, tears began to run down Parker's face.
"Why did Momma have to die, Jarod? How come?"
He moved over to the bed and sat down beside her as she rocked to and fro, her hands pressed to her face, sobbing wildly. As the crying became weaker, the emotion exhausting her as it so easily did, Jarod took her face in both of his hands and forced him to look at her, drawing her body closer to him.
"We'll find out. I promise, we'll find out."
Jarod slowly descended the stairs and entered the living room. The attempts at casual conversation that had begun shortly after the Pretender and Debbie had left the room was broken off abruptly as Sydney went upstairs to sit with Miss Parker, and Broots escorted Angelo to the room they had set aside for him. Michelle moved over to where Jarod stood in the doorway and gave him a quick hug. "You'll work everything out, Jarod, I know you will," she assured him. "It might take time, but you'll find the answers."
Jarod didn't respond verbally but hugged Michelle and watched as she ascended the staircase to the second floor of the building. Then he went outside.
Sydney was standing beside the bed, watching Parker as she slept, when Michelle entered the room and slipped her arms around his waist.
"You know, you probably don't need to spend the night here. You said yourself that the fever's broken and I suspect that Jarod will be wanting to sleep here."
He looked at her with a half-smile. "You know, you could be right."
Jarod sat next to Nicolas on the step of the veranda and the two of them looked up at the stars. Finally, turning to the Pretender, the younger man spoke.
"How come you...told Dad about me?"
Jarod continued to stare at the sky. "Did he tell you?"
"Yeah. And then when Lyle grabbed us, you came. How come?"
"I guess...I wanted the chance to repay him for some of the things he did for me over the years."
"And yet you knew what it would mean to Sydney, to have his family returned to him. What that would do to you - and him."
"I knew." The words were barely more than a whisper as Jarod was suddenly confronted with every feeling that he had ever had for Sydney. Images flashed through his mind - Sydney as the substitute father in the SIM lab when they first began working together; Sydney teaching Jarod how to do up his tie and how to shave; Sydney's comforting arms when Jarod mourned for the parents he had never known; Sydney receiving the Father's Day card that Jarod had made for him; Sydney…Jarod turned his head away, trying to escape the memories that flooded through him. The pain was almost more than he could stand, a crushing pressure on the middle of his chest. He could do nothing to stop the memories that bore down on him like water through a flooded street.
"I…Jarod, I don't want to take that away from you."
"You don't have to." The voice from behind startled the men and they turned to see the psychiatrist, his brown eyes glowing. "I have different feelings for the two of you, but I love both my 'sons'."
Jarod sat on the stairs outside the house and stared up into the blue sky. The weather was so fine that Nicholas, Michelle and Debbie had gone for a walk. He had seen them leave, carrying packs and giving the impression they would be gone for the entire day. It was this that had suggested itself to Sydney as a good day to begin the treatment. As Jarod thought through what was to come, he heard footsteps behind him and, turning, saw Broots appear on the veranda.
"You didn't go with the others?" It was a question to which Jarod already knew the answer, but he spoke purely in an attempt to break the silence.
"Sydney thought I should stay, in case anything..."
"I understand."
After a long pause, Jarod spoke again. "How did you manage to get Angelo out of the Centre without alerting anyone?"
The balding man grinned. "We rattled a box of Cracker Jacks at the entrance to the air vent."
"What?!"
"I'm kidding, Jarod. We'd arranged it already, and it seems he got out the same way you did. At least, that was what he told us."
"He told you?"
"Well...not in so many words."
"I see." Jarod looked rather hard at Broots, who suddenly frantically wished that he were somewhere else, a not uncommon feeling.
At that point, Sydney appeared in the doorway. Jarod stood and faced the man.
"We're ready to begin."
"Sydney...what do you think will happen?"
Sydney sighed and looked past Jarod, out to the trees. "I don't know. I really don't."
When Jarod entered the bedroom, Parker reached over from the bed to hug him and, in amazement, Jarod looked over at Sydney, who hurried to explain.
"We haven't started yet. I thought you'd want to be here for the whole thing."
Jarod nodded and then moved over to a seat by the window as Parker curled up against the pillows again.
The girl’s voice piped up. "What are we doing?"
"We're...going to..."
"Play a game." Jarod interposed quickly.
"Oh, goody! I like games. What do I have to do?"
"Exactly what Sydney tells you to..."
Jarod watched as the scene unfolded. Parker had not spoken since the hypnosis began, but seeing his concern, Sydney assured him that this was as normal as could be expected in the situation. It would take some time for her to feel comfortable enough with the situation to begin sharing things. Angelo had been brought into the room as the preparation had been completed and now sat on a chair at the end of the bed, with one hand on Parker's foot so that he could absorb all of her feelings. It was, Sydney had commented wryly, a little unusual for the therapist to have an insight into her thoughts before she uttered them, however, as Jarod had said, anything that might help had to be used.
Sydney's voice broke across the other man's reflections. "Parker, can you tell me what you see?"
"Dark…" she murmured. "It's dark."
"Where are you?"
"Centre."
"Do you remember where you're going?"
"To find Faith."
Jarod looked at Angelo, who reiterated what she said. "Faith."
"What else can you remember of the Centre?" the psychiatrist prompted quietly.
"Jarod."
"Very good. Why was Jarod so important to you?"
The childish voice was suddenly choked. "He was...my friend."
"Why do you say - 'was'?"
"He doesn't like me - not anymore."
Jarod leaped to his feet and stared at Sydney, who motioned for him to remain quiet. Turning back, the therapist saw tears escape from Parker's eyes and spoke softly. "Why doesn't he like you any more? Did he tell you that?"
"Daddy told me. He said that...Jarod didn't want to see me any more."
"Angry...hurt...sad."
The words coming from Angelo's mouth caused Jarod more pain than the discussion with Nicholas the previous evening.
"Is that why you don't like Jarod?"
"I wanted Jarod to be my friend. Daddy said he...didn't like me anymore."
"What about when you were little?"
"Jarod was my friend then." A small smile formed on the woman's face. "I kissed him. But Daddy...Daddy found out."
"What did Daddy do?"
"He...he..." The woman became increasingly distressed as her mind went back in time and she began to twitch violently on the bed.
"All right, Parker. Don't think about it any more. You don't have to remember that now. When you wake up, you'll be very tired but you won't be able to recall any of this discussion. Jarod will let you sleep. Okay..."
As Sydney led Parker through the final stages of the hypnosis, he nodded at the younger man to come next to the bed. Obeying earlier directions, Broots came in and took Angelo from the room. It had been decided that seeing Angelo in his current state might trigger more painful memories and that, therefore, his visits would be limited. As Sydney completed the process, he slipped out of the room, allowing Jarod to be the only one present when she woke up.
"Jarod..."
"Yes, Parker," he slipped an arm under her head and drew her to him. "I'm here."
Her eyes were drowsy as she looked up at him. "I'm tired. How come? Am I still sick?"
"No, Parker. It's okay. I'm here and I won't let anyone in to hurt you."
"Can I go to sleep?"
Jarod stroked her hair and smiled down at her as she lay with her head resting in his arms. "Of course you can."
"Will you..." she broke off in a yawn. "Will you stay here with me?"
"Sure."
Jarod slowly descended the last few stairs and entered the room where Sydney and Broots were sitting.
"Asleep?"
"Yes." Jarod ran a hand through his hair and sighed tiredly. "Sydney, are you sure you don't want to go and sit with her? She might miss you."
He shook his head. "No, I want the therapy to remain separate from the recovery, if that's possible. Under the circumstances, you'll be the best helper in that."
Jarod stared at the floor for several minutes. "Why would her...her father say that about me?"
"I think that it was probably the best way he could come up with of separating the two of you. It wasn't exactly a huge secret, what you both got up to. And perhaps he wanted to make it easier for the two of you to separate when Parker went to college and then to Japan."
"There's a clue to that here." Broots spoke hesitatingly and looked up from the diary that he had been carefully perusing since the conversation of the previous night while Jarod had been taking Debbie back to bed.
January 23, 1970
""Break the power of wicked and evil men; punish them for the wrong they have done until they do it no more." (Psalms 10:15) I simply cannot understand why he doesn't want our daughter to associate with others. Certainly the other children in the Centre aren't the ideal playmates, but they are better than spending a solitary life with us, particularly as we rarely have time to spend with her. I know that he is uncomfortable, especially as she is so attached to Jarod, but I can think of few other children who have his maturity level and who will discourage her from some of the wilder ideas that she used to entertain."
"There's your answer, Jarod."
"But it goes deeper than that." Jarod stood and began to pace the length of the room while the others watched. "I have this idea that Mr Parker was always..."
"Jealous," supplemented Angelo.
Jarod spun around to face him. "Yes! How did you know?"
"Remember." Angelo went back to playing with the marbles.
"Are you sure about that, Jarod?" Sydney asked. "Have you got proof?"
"No, not physical proof. For that I would need to have the guy here but," remembering his promise, "as he would be dead before he got through the door..."
"...it would seem to defeat the purpose of having him here," Broots ended the sentence with a grin.
"I think," Jarod diplomatically ignored the interruption, "I suspect that Mr. Parker would have wanted the Triumvirate to have been as interested in his daughter as they were in me. It was outlined in the eighth Red File that she'd been tested and might have contained the Pretender gene, but little other testing was done. His excitement about discovering that Parker's twin was alive would probably have been increased by the knowledge that Lyle had had more extensive testing and therefore would be more likely to be a Pretender, one that Mr Parker could have control over. I mean, Raines had Kyle and Dannie, you had me and the others whereas Mr Parker, although involved in the observation of the project, probably really wanted to get his hands dirty."
Jarod stared at the floor before continuing. "And there would also be the fact that we forged a kind of emotional bond after Catherine die - was killed," he corrected himself. "That wouldn't have helped when he would want her to be closer to him and fill the vacancy left by her mother. But, although Parker never talked to me about it, I always felt that somehow just being there was helpful, especially after Faith died. She needed a distraction." Jarod finally ran out of words and, sitting down on a chair, looked up at Sydney as he had done in earlier years, wanting confirmation of his ideas.
Sydney stood and, clasping his hands behind his back, walked to the window with his head bent, thinking over the information that Jarod had presented. "If that's the case, then it explains the close connection between the two of them as the situation is at present. It takes a lot of work to destroy childish emotions, but when it happens, it's complete. And permanent. Or at least almost impossible to undo."
"You sound like you've experienced it yourself." Broots' words were soft, but Sydney heard them nonetheless.
"I have," Sydney replied softly. "When...Dr Krieg got to us in the camp, he separated us, telling me that Jacob was dead. In my head, I believed him. I had seen a figure, Jacob's size and shape, walking in front of our parents into the gas chamber."
Sydney's voice trembled but he controlled it and continued.
"That night, I woke up in excruciating pain. However it wasn't normal pain, the kind I would have felt if I'd hurt myself. It was...toned down, I guess is the best way to explain it. I'd felt it before, when Jacob's appendix had burst one night and we'd nearly lost him. That, and the fact that I'd experienced nothing for the entire afternoon, when he should have been dying and dead, convinced me that Dr. Krieg was telling me lies. The next day, I told him that. He hit me so hard that he knocked me into a wall. And then several of the guards took over. They only stopped seconds before I lost consciousness.
"As my sense faded away, he told me again that Jacob had died. This went on for days, until finally I began to believe that he was right. The day I told him that, the beatings stopped. A week later, I felt the pain again, but I'd learned to keep my mouth shut, and when Dr Krieg took me away for the first of the experiments, and I felt the pain of which I had sensed the echo the previous night, I knew that Jacob was alive. I also knew that I would never say so aloud. But in that week I'd really believed that I would never see Jacob again. By then, you see, I knew what the chambers were for. It took the pain that my brother felt to convince me that Dr Krieg had lied all along." Sydney inhaled deeply and tried to control his voice again. "Jacob told me later that the same thing had happened to him. He'd given in to the idea faster than I had, because the boy he saw going into the chamber was wearing clothes similar to those that I had been wearing that day. He gave up on me, and it took me a long time after the nightmare was over, to finally convince him that I had survived."
Jarod and Broots watched as Sydney let himself out of the front door and walked slowly down the stairs. His silence had not encouraged any speech but, after he left the room, Broots was unable to restrain his curiosity.
"Did you know anything about that?"
"I...had my suspicions. Sydney...one day mentioned something about the things that Krieg had done to him - but his tone warned me away from the subject."
"You were...how old?"
"Eight."
"At eight, you could understand that?"
Jarod turned to face him. "Broots..."
"Okay, okay, never mind. I get it."
At this juncture, even as Broots was beginning to wish himself elsewhere for the second time that day, voices were heard coming up the path and Debbie ran to greet her father.
"Dad, there are so many great walks here. And Nicholas was telling me all about the animals and birds that we saw. He knows heaps."
Jarod looked around. "Where's Michelle?" His tones betrayed his concerns but Nicholas hurried to calm his fears.
"Mom saw S...Dad and they went off together somewhere."
Jarod let out the anxious breath that he'd been unconsciously holding. "Good. I think she's the best help for him right now."
"Why?" Nicholas looked concerned. "What's wrong?"
"He was...reliving some suppressed memories that were causing...pain."
"Like what?"
"I think he should probably tell you himself. Ask him later. And Nicholas..."
"Yeah."
"If he doesn't tell you...well, it's a pretty hard thing." Nicholas looked at Jarod for several minutes before recalling the previous night's conversation and then he nodded. "I understand."
Jarod stood at the window of his room and stared out at the view with unseeing eyes. The session of that morning had been as painful as that of the previous day and Parker's responses, both verbal and physical, to Sydney's questions had forced a premature halt, leaving Jarod feeling uncomfortable. Couldn't there be some better answer, an easier method? Was there a way to recall it all without the pain that came with it? It had been difficult, painful enough for him to recall the feelings of his family and the loss that he had endured. Despite his abilities as a pretender, it was virtually impossible for him to comprehend her feelings and the emotions that were linked with her past. It was, he knew, because he was too scared, too unwilling the face the well of emotion that he knew was a natural progression from that situation. Jarod recalled the conversation that he and Sydney had had the previous night.
"There is another possible way, but I'm not willing to use it."
"What is it?"
"The application of a barbiturate would encourage her to be relaxed and, working as a sedative, would soften the brunt of the emotion, however..."
"And why not use it?"
"Because of two limitations. Firstly, the drug would do its job, but we need her to feel the emotions and suffer through them to get her over this. It's impossible to solve all her problems unless she faces the emotions, and I think that Parker is unlikely to return to her normal state unless she deals properly with this."
Jarod considered the explanation for several seconds and then looked up. "You said there was a second factor - what is it?"
"The addictiveness of the drug. A barbiturate by its very nature is highly addictive and would be too easy for her to turn to when the situation became too hard. I don't want her to fall from one situation into another that would be just as bad."
As Jarod's mind recalled the conversation, he became aware that a figure was standing in the doorway. Turning, he felt the same emotions that he had felt during the first few days of their enforced co-habitation - that the adult Parker was looking at him, unable to escape from her situation and return everything to normal.
"Jarod?"
"Yes, Parker?" The feeling, as always, vanished as soon as it had appeared, banished by her childish tones.
"Sydney told me to tell you that he wanted to talk to you."
"Where?"
"In my room." She slipped her hand into his and almost dragged him from the room.
As they went, Jarod began to get a feeling that this time something was different. This obviously, was the reason that Sydney had called him. Another session, with perhaps a greater chance of success than the others.
The young man looked up in shock as his mother finished explaining about the concentration camp and she and Sydney's time at the Centre together. "He...he went through all that. Why?"
"He had to. If he hadn't, the chances at that neither he nor Jacob would have survived the camp, and then," Michelle's look was tender, "you would never have been born."
"And…and Jarod?"
"Jarod is...a very special part of Sydney's life. I think Sydney always wanted a child, another family to make up for what he'd lost. At the same time, Jarod wanted a family as well and they filled a gap in each other's hearts. It's as painful for Jarod to see the two of you together as it was for Sydney to see Jarod and his father together. But you should have seen Sydney, when he learnt about you, Nick. The excitement in his face was...it was like nothing I've ever seen before. He's usually so calm and sedate, but then his whole face was alight."
"So...I've taken Jarod's family away from him by being here? I’m Sydney's son, so Jarod can’t be."
Michelle reached out and drew her son to her. "If Jarod hadn't wanted Sydney to meet you, he would never have given your father the information he needed to find us. It was something that Jarod felt he could do for Sydney, something that Sydney wouldn't reject, as he had rejected the many gifts that Jarod had tried to give him over the years."
Jarod watched as Parker lay on the bed, her eyes closed, but his instincts made his hold on the gun in his hand tighten, although he was certain that there was little for him to be scared of. Sydney, he knew, was in fairly good command of the situation.
"Parker, can you hear me?"
"Yes, Sydney?" The voice took both men by surprise. It was no longer that of the child but the adult, and it was this that had caused Jarod to draw his weapon.
"Parker?" Sydney's tones betrayed his confusion.
"Yes, Sydney. I know you find this difficult to understand."
"It…who are you?"
"I'm Parker, the woman you know."
"Then...who is...?"
"That's me too, but a younger me. When I grew, she stayed behind, tormented by the past and the pain. She retained those memories that I wouldn't allow myself to remember." The woman's voice was calm and even, almost dreamy, evidence of the depth of the hypnotic state.
"When did she...appear?" Sydney was overcoming his confusion but had not yet regained all of his self-control.
"The night that Jarod found me...us. The concussion caused her to emerge and I was powerless to stop it. When I recognized Jarod's voice, I stopped trying. I just wanted to end this. It's... the lack of control I can't stand, Syd. I was terrified that... one day you'd see me like this. Or that Daddy would find out."
"So, why are you here now?"
"I'm... not sure." Jarod found the uncertainty in her voice somewhat amusing. It was certainly different from the adult Parker he knew. "Before you started with the hypnosis..."
"You know about that?"
"I know about everything you've done for me. And you too, Jarod. I want you to know that I'm...grateful for it."
The Pretender couldn't help grinning at the difficulty she had saying the word.
"Parker," Sydney stated softly, "I need the other...self...to come back."
"I know...and she will. But I just wanted the chance to let you know that I was here. I know that when this is all finally dealt with, she'll disappear. You can't possibly understand how good that will be."
"I think I can." Jarod spoke quietly. "But I want to know... why do you suffer the feelings you have over the... death... of your mother?"
"I..." Her voice trembled slightly. "I feel a degree of the pain that she feels, like an echo of it. But she takes the full brunt of the pain, and that will be very hard for you both to erase. She's been going through this for so long, and alone, and she doesn't want to face it. That loneliness is what she's always resented, although she's never been able to explain it, and she's spent years with it just below the surface. She finally channeled the resentment into hate against her...my father; the feelings that I have for him are ones that she can't...she won't share. When she's...a part of me, will those feelings change?"
Sydney responded softly. "We hope so, Parker."
Jarod glanced at him and then back to the woman. "And you want her to become part of you, Parker? Can you deal with the emotions she'll bring?"
"I...I don't know. But once she's managed to deal with it, then maybe the strength of the emotions will diminish. Then they'll be easier to deal with, I hope."
Jarod looked at Angelo as he sat, crouched at the foot of the bed. His eyes were tightly closed and occasionally tremors shook him. Jarod leaned over and placed a hand on his shoulder, at which Angelo opened his eyes and stared up, blankly for a moment, before recognition flared in the blue depths.
"Truth."
"I know." Jarod's voice was soft, avoiding breaking into the muttering of voices at the bed.
"Truth. Tell truth."
"Do you mean Parker or me?"
"Both."
Jarod shook his head. "Angelo, I've faced more truth over the last few days..."
"Jarod, are you ready?"
"Yes, Sydney."
"Is that the main reason behind her being the way she is? The control?"
"It…Control would explain a lot of her earlier behaviour."
Jarod grinned half-heartedly. "And she's been watching us all this time."
"It's an interesting phenomenon."
"Why interesting? It's a standard multiple personality, except that the trace has been in control for most of the subject's life. A certain percentage of people with multiple-personalities have that exact situation."
"But the confusion of times - that's not so standard."
Jarod thought back over the earlier period, when his thoughts had covered the same territory. "It could be a product of the concussion."
Sydney nodded slowly "It could. But if it is, then the concussion's continued a lot longer than we thought it would. And no outward signs, no uneven pupils, nothing."
Jarod sighed, even as his mind was busy searching for an answer. "We could..."
"What?"
"Try, with the hypnosis, to bring the younger figure forward to the same age as the adult Parker."
"And, if we did, then the issues would remain unresolved and we'd be right back where we started."
"Hell, Syd, I'm just trying to think of an answer, for God's sake."
Sydney moved over and gently placed one hand on Jarod's shoulder. "I know how you feel. I'm frustrated too, very frustrated. But we can't let the feelings cloud our judgment or we could destroy everything we've gained so far."
Sydney watched as Parker slept, recovering from the session. It was in his mind, and in Jarod's also, that she was reaching her limit. Each treatment left her weak and emotional, despite not recalling the substance of the memories that had been recalled. For the next session, the next stage, it had been decided that a change was necessary and Sydney would encourage Parker to try and retain the memories that her subconscious provided but her conscious memory wasn't willing to accept. The most important, naturally, was the assaults, of which they had only briefly heard and on which point the session generally ended, with Parker too emotional to continue.
"Sydney?" Michelle put a hand on his shoulder. "Don't get discouraged. These things take time."
Sydney sighed. "It was so easy with Jarod: just two sessions, one to banish the emotion and then one to recall it. But with Parker - it's been eight sessions and we're virtually back where we began."
"That's not true. She trusts you and she talks about some things. Simply because she hasn't told you everything yet, is that a reason to quit? Would you leave her like this for the rest of her life?"
"Not willingly."
"Well, then..."
Jarod stared moodily out of the door and towards the trees that surrounded the house. He was aware that he should go back inside, should relieve Sydney of the pressure of caring for Miss Parker, but he needed some time to himself. It had been months...no, years, since he had been so constantly surrounded by people and he was finding that the pressure was rapidly becoming unbearable.
And there was that tiny, sneaking suspicion that, for the first time in many years, he was actually failing the task before him. He had only ever felt this painful emotion of complete helplessness, of hopelessness once before, when he had been too afraid to face his fears and locate Annie Raines. But then it had been only his feelings that had made the problem appear insurmountable, now it was outside forces, problems that he had no control over.
Then, too, there was the problem of the exhaustion that he was feeling. Generally he allowed himself some time to recover before beginning a new pretend, but this time, and with all of the information he had had to take on, he felt ready to curl up in bed for three weeks straight and not emerge until he felt better. Not, he thought ruefully, that that was likely to happen any time soon.
"Jarod?"
He responded without turning to look at the newcomer. "Yes, Sydney?"
Sydney came and took a seat beside Jarod on the sturdy outdoor furniture. "Are you okay?"
"I'll be a lot better when this whole thing is resolved."
"I understand that this...can't be easy for you either."
Jarod stood up and moved several paces away. He rested his hands on the rail of the veranda and pressed down, trying to rid himself of the tension that he could feel pounding away in his brain. He knew that Sydney wanted to talk, and this wasn't something he felt ready to do. All of the answers he could come up with were generally impractical and his frustration was rapidly taking over. His fingers unconsciously tightened around the rail until his knuckles were white and the skin stretched tightly over them. Sydney looked up in growing concern as the younger man began to sway on his feet and, jumping to his feet, placed both hands on his shoulders.
"Please, Jarod, rest. You won't be able to help Parker unless you're fit."
The Pretender tried to argue, but the exhaustion that was overtaking him meant he meekly allowed Sydney to escort him to his room. It was with a sigh of relief that he sat down on the bed and watched as Sydney slipped off the loafers he wore before lifting his legs up onto the bed, the dark head coming to rest on the soft pillow.
"Sydney?"
"Yes, Jarod?" Sydney's voice was soft and full of compassion.
"Thank you."
The mumbled words were barely discernible and the hand that lay next to Jarod's face was in a fist for several seconds before the fingers opened slightly, his lips parting as he finally allowed himself to relax. Sydney ran a gentle finger down the man's cheek. His son. It wasn't biological, he knew that, but it was still a bond, a connection of sorts, and an important one for them both. With a loving hand, he pulled up a blanket that lay folded on the end of the bed, covering the sleeping figure and then, after closing the blind, pulled the door shut as he left the room, looking at the empath who was hovering outside the door.
"Jarod...sleep."
"Yes, Angelo. Let's leave him."
"Sydney, where's Jarod?"
"He's..."
"...right here, Parker."
Sydney spun around. "What are you doing up already?"
Jarod grinned as he leaned against the doorframe, his dimples showing in both cheeks and his eyes bright with amusement. "Oh, please. I went to bed almost twelve hours ago. I haven't had that much sleep in one night for months." He laughed and this sound was more than enough to convince Sydney that he was almost, if not completely back to normal.
"Well, if you're sure you're okay..."
"I'm a big boy now. I can take care of myself. And even other people, if I have to."
Jarod turned to Parker as she watched them and the expression in her eyes was recognizable as the look of the adult Miss Parker, suggesting to him that her comments under hypnosis had not been by chance.
Jarod watched as Parker's eyelids slowly lifted. Her sleep had been longer than normal, but he knew that a greater emotional scene was to follow. The tears that were already forming as the memories began to return convinced him of the fact.
"Parker?" he prompted softly.
"I...I hate my father! I want him to die! I want to kill him!"
Jarod put his arms around her and held her as she fought to get off the bed. This situation had been anticipated, but no action was to be taken unless Parker was likely to cause an injury of some kind.
"Let me kill him! I hate him! He ruined my life!"
Parker's voice, high in the childish tones, was screaming at the top-most pitch of her lungs and, at the sound, Sydney appeared. Jarod was forced to use most of his strength to keep her on the bed. Her arms were stretched out behind his back as though she saw the hated father standing there and her face, distorted with rage and panic, flowed with a combination of sweat and tears.
At a minute nod from Jarod, Sydney stepped over to the bed. The woman, her mind trapped in that of her other personality and fighting against what she was being forced to confront, never even noticed as the needle was slipped into the vein and the contents injected. She tried to get away from Jarod's hold and continued to cry out but, as the sedative began to work, her tones lost the worst of their fury and became slower, slightly slurred as she struggled to speak.
"He's killed my friends, my family, everything! I... I want him dead! L... let m... me de... destroy h... him! I... I w... w..."
Her muscles gradually lost their strength as her voice died away into silence and a moment later her limp body sank down so that her head came to rest on Jarod's shoulder. Her arms dangled loosely down his back and her hair, a tangled and sweaty mess, hung down her own as her breathing slowed, becoming deeper and more regular. Jarod gently placed her back on the mattress and stood up, taking several deep breaths as his concerned eyes scanned her face.
"I know it's unpleasant to go through that," Sydney's voice was soft. "But I think it's necessary. She's going to have to face this before she can get over it. The very worst thing would be if, in her anger, she were to hurt someone, especially herself. You'd never forgive yourself...and I wouldn't either. Nor would she."
Jarod turned and looked Sydney in the eye. "What do you feel about her? You've always been like a father to me, and lately I'd begun to feel that for at least some of that time, you've reciprocated those feelings. But what about her?"
Sydney moved over to the window and stared out of it without a word, but Jarod wasn't going to be put off that easily. He moved over and, standing behind his former mentor, placed one hand on each shoulder and forcibly turned the man around. "Well?"
"I...Jarod, it's difficult to explain."
"You mean you've never tried to explain it to yourself."
Sydney tried to smile. "You know me too well. You're right, I never have."
"But she was more to you than just a subject?"
"She was never a subject."
Sydney sighed but, seeing that Jarod would not be denied, he moved over to where two chairs and a table had been placed in the corner. As he sat, his eyes traveled to the unconscious figure on the bed and he stared at her.
"She was much more. Parker's... been in the Centre for as long as I can remember. Catherine brought her there almost from the day she was born. I can't recall a time when she wasn't running around underfoot." He smiled briefly at the memory. "But after you came to the Centre, she was limited in where she could go. I still remember how angry she got about that. Her temper then was as...energetic as it is now."
Jarod smiled but, not wanting to interrupt the tirade, remained silent as Sydney continued. "Parker...was always close to her parents. Her father once said never to mention the death of his wife to him. But she never had to tell me that. It just wasn't something she encouraged, it was her manner - you know what I mean?"
Jarod nodded wordlessly and Sydney continued.
"I...she would often come and watch me work. It wasn't something that her parents allowed or encouraged but I never minded. She would sit and chatter while I worked - it was fun. In the end, I guess I saw her as a part of the family that I wanted. She was always there, coming early in the morning and only leaving when one of her father's sweepers took her home. Knowing that it was always to an empty house, often I'd take her myself. You can imagine what she began to mean to me after a while. She was the daughter I never had, like you were the son. You were my family, the two of you. You meant more to me than...well, anything."
Sydney sighed deeply and, getting up from the chair, moved again over to the window, staring out at the lawn below. "I always justified my actions to myself, even when I let Raines work with you, or saw Parker come to the Centre with cuts and bruises. During the planning with Jacob and Catherine, I was always the passive one. Whatever they suggested, I went along with. I couldn't ever have summoned up enough courage to act alone. And after they...I just felt helpless and wanted to forget that the plans ever even existed."
Sydney shot a pleading look at Jarod. "Can you understand how hard that was, to see what both of you went through and to do nothing for so many years? I've been tormented by wanting to have you back at the Centre with me, and yet terrified of what would happen to you if you returned. And although it was a comfort that Parker was there, that she was safe because they needed her, I lived in fear of what would happen if you were brought back and she had no use for the Triumvirate. They have no need for spare wheels, as you’re well aware."
Sydney ran out of words. Jarod, too, was speechless, trying to absorb all of the information that he had just received, despite that fact that he had been aware of some of it for many months or years. His eyes as he looked up were full of both tears and understanding but Sydney couldn't look at his former protégée and so missed the emotion.
"When I first saw...my father," Jarod's voice broke but he continued, "my first thought was to wonder if he could ever become as dear to me as you are."
Finally Sydney turned and saw the expression in the face that was turned up to him from where Jarod sat. As the younger man stood, his slightly superior inches meant that he could look down on his substitute father. Sydney turned away as a lump of emotion came into his throat, but Jarod, grabbing his shoulders, turned him back and the two embraced, not as teacher and student, or man to man, but as father to son, expressing fully the depths of their emotions.
