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Disclaimer: The characters Miss Parker, Sydney, Jarod, Broots etc. and the fictional Centre, are all property of MTM and NBC Productions and used without permission. I'm not making any money out of this and no infringement is intended.
This is a nightmare, that’s all it is. It could only be a nightmare and I’m going to wake up any minute now. Miss Parker told herself, shifting gears. ‘What a mess. What else could possibly go wrong?’ She wondered, slightly hysterically.
First she had been forced to change all of her plans because Lyle captured Emily. and after she finally thought she had the situation under control again she received that call from a police station. Angry, she pressed her lips together and stepped harder on the accelerator. She couldn’t be positive, of course, but she had a strong suspicion that her mystery "son" was actually Jarod’s clone!
Damn the lot of ‘em!’ She thought resentfully. ‘I haven’t met one member of that family that hasn’t been hell bent on screwing up my life. First Jarod, then the Major, and Emily throwing a monkey wrench into my departure plans, and now the clone. What next? Is Margaret going to show up and need a blood transfusion from me?----What a mess.’ She thought again.
She slowed the car down and pulled up into the parking lot in front of the police station. This kid had better have a stellar explanation for this!’ She cursed silently. The trip had taken 2 hours from her already very tight schedule.
Miss Parker hurried up the stairs, pushed open the big double doors in the front, and entered the police station. ‘A typical police station.’ She thought, disgusted. She hated the smell, a mixture of unwashed bodies, stale alcohol, and inadequate floral scented air freshener. She was just about to ask for directions when she spotted the boy at a nearby table.
JJ looked up at the same moment, jumped up and threw himself into her arms, almost knocking her off balance with the exuberance of his greeting.
"Momma!" He called overjoyed.
****
Lyle closed his cell phone. Where the hell was she? He had been waiting her for hours now. He had called at the Centre and Donoterase looking for her] Her new secretary at the lab had told him that she left about 2 1/2 hours ago. She volunteered the information that when she left Miss Parker had seemed to be in a pretty big hurry. When she hadn’t returned home in a reasonable amount of time, he’d called the Centre too, but she hadn’t returned there either.
‘Damn her and her eternal secrecy.’
Her long absence only served to fuel his anger. He would make sure she paid for every second he had to spend in these damn woods, he promised himself. His rage grew as he studied the house again and the thought crossed his mind that Jarod had probably been inside it more than he had. How dare she leave her house so easy for him to break into? How dare Jarod presume to invade his sister’s home? But thinking about Jarod was not the best way to regain control, Lyle admitted grimly. The next time he laid hands on that arrogant bastard, though, he *would* die. Soothed by visions of Jarod and his sister bound and at his mercy, Lyle settled back down to wait.
****
"Dad, leave it!" Jarod tried to avoid his father, and stepped out of the bedroom, the older man on his heels.
The Major sighed inwardly, ‘Here we go again.’ He thought tiredly. They had been arguing for over two hours. Jarod had resorted to yelling at his father; telling him to leave him alone, claiming that he didn’t need anybody. Then, a moment later, he had cried, wanting to know what he had done to deserve his hellish life, and that was followed only minutes later by more angry yelling. The fact that he was still fighting the alcohol in his system didn’t help anything either.
The older man looked at his son, who now sat in a chair next to the table in the living room, his shoulders slumped and his head hanging. What could he do? Nothing, really, except to be there for his son, and to offer himself as a sympathetic ear for Jarod to express his anger and pain.
Major shook his head, convinced that he wasn’t seeing the full picture. Something was wrong, but he wasn’t able to put the finger on just what it was. He had only met Miss Parker once, and most of that encounter he’d spent looking down the barrel of his own gun, a relic from his time in the military. She had started the interview by announcing her intention to shoot him, and things didn’t get much better after that. She had been angry and on edge the entire time. In the nearly non-existent lighting of the cell there in the deep sublevels of the Centre, he’d only glimpses of her, but his first impression was that Catherine was back. She had the same beauty as her mother, but there was something more. Something different.
She had been a strange mixture of contradictions; strong, yet vulnerable, angry and yet her eyes betrayed a desolation that made *him* want to cry. It was clear that she wanted to hate him, but there was another side to her that wouldn’t let her take action without knowing both sides of the story. She had listened to him, even though it was clear she wasn’t sure if she could believe him. He knew without a doubt that she had heard far too many lies in her life.
He remembered his last conversation with Catherine. She had told him that she was willing to do anything at all to rescue her child form the claws of the Centre. The major wondered what her daughter was willing to do to keep her child safe. Not to have the child in the first place, had that been her solution?
He looked at the miserable figure huddled in the chair; his son. Jarod would have loved to be a father, and he knew exactly how his felt right now. With another inward sigh he remembered his elation when his wife had told him that she was pregnant. With a smile he recalled the moment when he laid his had on Margaret’s lightly swollen stomach and felt the light movements of the baby. He regretted that Jarod wasn’t going to have the chance to experience that kind of joy this time.
Love could be cruel, and there was no question that his son loved this woman. A part of his anger, the Major suspected, was the result of the fact that no matter what she had done he simply could not stop loving her.
He walked over to his son and laid his hand on the younger man’s shoulder.
"Why don’t I go out and see where JJ is? I think we could all use something to eat right about now." With an encouraging squeeze of the shoulder, he left his oldest to look for his youngest.
Jarod lifted his head and looked after his father’s retreating back. He felt like someone was using his head as a drum. He could still feel the pulsing rhythm.
‘Parker would have loved---’ Jarod groaned out loud. Sooner or later every thought lead him back to the one person he never wanted to think about again.
He still could not understand why. The thing that hurt the most was that she hadn’t even considered him important enough to tell. He had always dreamed of having a family; his father, his mother and Emily, yes, but also a family of his own. He wanted to have somebody to love and to take care of. A place he could call home, where he could always return. Children were a part of that picture. A baby girl with deep blue eyes.
‘Enough!’ He tried to stop his thoughts. This image had haunted him during the nights and now it was creeping in when he was awake as well.
He scanned the room, maybe he could find something to distract his mind. Nothing. Chair, table, laptop, note, fireplace.. he stopped.
There was a small yellow note on the laptop. Slowly, afraid that a sudden movement would bring back the full orchestra in his head instead this lonely drummer, he rose from his chair and made his way over to the other side of the table. He reached over and grabbed the post-it.
He read the note and felt a wave of nausea swept over him. He was just about to call for his father when the Major came back.
"I can’t find JJ...." the Major’s comment trailed off when he saw Jarod. He looked at his grown up son; he looked, if possible, even paler than he had when he’d first awakened this morning. He stared at him with a shocked expression. At the same moment he noticed the piece of yellow paper in Jarod’s left hand..
Not expecting any good news Jarod father slowly walked over to his son.
"JJ is on his way to Blue Cove to help Miss Parker." Jarod said bleakly, handing the note to the older man.
In slow motion the Major lowered the gaze to the paper in his hand, not sure if he really wanted to read the full message. While reading it he felt like he’d been hit by a train. He shoved the paper in his pocket turned to grab the laptop.
"Grab your jacket, son," he ordered.
With a click he closed the small computer not bothering to turn it off. Neither of the man noticed still open mail icon on the screen.
*****
Angelo made his way to the vent as fast as he could. After Miss Parker had left he had crawled back to his favourite hiding place curled up and tried to make the right decision. It always came back to the same thing, she needed help. More than just Jarod. He began to move again.
He carefully scanned he room, but nobody except from Sydney and Broots where inside. Once he was sure that it was safe he opened the vent and entered the room.
"Angelo." The older man welcomed him warmly.
Angelo tried to smile and hurried over to Sydney.
"Help." He cursed his difficulty in speaking as he forced out the word.
"Help whom? Are you hurt? " Sydney asked with concern.
"Miss Parker needs help." Angelo managed, thinking that at least that was clear. He hated his inability to get out the words that were so clear in his mind.
Angelo sensed Sydney’s hesitation with a growing sense of desperation. They had to help soon, or it would be to late.
"Miss Parker needs help," He repeated, his voice pleading. "both dead soon."
"Sydney, what is he talking about?" Broots asked in a scared voice. Angelo seemed to be highly agitated, desperate even.
"I am not sure." The psychiatrist answered him. "I think Miss Parker and Emily might be in danger." While he told this to Broots he looked at Angelo, who nodded and shook his head at the same time.
"Help, now!" He stressed urgently. Broots and Sydney looked at each other for several heartbeats; Broots worried and ready to spring into action, Sydney unsure.
"I’m going!" Broots finally burst out defiantly. "She’s never let me down and I won’t fail her now."
"You’re right, Broots." Sydney sighed with a touch of self contempt. "I have been a bit of a self-righteous prig, haven’t I?"
Broots wisely left that question unanswered as the three men hurried out of the Centre.
First she had been forced to change all of her plans because Lyle captured Emily. and after she finally thought she had the situation under control again she received that call from a police station. Angry, she pressed her lips together and stepped harder on the accelerator. She couldn’t be positive, of course, but she had a strong suspicion that her mystery "son" was actually Jarod’s clone!
Damn the lot of ‘em!’ She thought resentfully. ‘I haven’t met one member of that family that hasn’t been hell bent on screwing up my life. First Jarod, then the Major, and Emily throwing a monkey wrench into my departure plans, and now the clone. What next? Is Margaret going to show up and need a blood transfusion from me?----What a mess.’ She thought again.
She slowed the car down and pulled up into the parking lot in front of the police station. This kid had better have a stellar explanation for this!’ She cursed silently. The trip had taken 2 hours from her already very tight schedule.
Miss Parker hurried up the stairs, pushed open the big double doors in the front, and entered the police station. ‘A typical police station.’ She thought, disgusted. She hated the smell, a mixture of unwashed bodies, stale alcohol, and inadequate floral scented air freshener. She was just about to ask for directions when she spotted the boy at a nearby table.
JJ looked up at the same moment, jumped up and threw himself into her arms, almost knocking her off balance with the exuberance of his greeting.
"Momma!" He called overjoyed.
****
Lyle closed his cell phone. Where the hell was she? He had been waiting her for hours now. He had called at the Centre and Donoterase looking for her] Her new secretary at the lab had told him that she left about 2 1/2 hours ago. She volunteered the information that when she left Miss Parker had seemed to be in a pretty big hurry. When she hadn’t returned home in a reasonable amount of time, he’d called the Centre too, but she hadn’t returned there either.
‘Damn her and her eternal secrecy.’
Her long absence only served to fuel his anger. He would make sure she paid for every second he had to spend in these damn woods, he promised himself. His rage grew as he studied the house again and the thought crossed his mind that Jarod had probably been inside it more than he had. How dare she leave her house so easy for him to break into? How dare Jarod presume to invade his sister’s home? But thinking about Jarod was not the best way to regain control, Lyle admitted grimly. The next time he laid hands on that arrogant bastard, though, he *would* die. Soothed by visions of Jarod and his sister bound and at his mercy, Lyle settled back down to wait.
****
"Dad, leave it!" Jarod tried to avoid his father, and stepped out of the bedroom, the older man on his heels.
The Major sighed inwardly, ‘Here we go again.’ He thought tiredly. They had been arguing for over two hours. Jarod had resorted to yelling at his father; telling him to leave him alone, claiming that he didn’t need anybody. Then, a moment later, he had cried, wanting to know what he had done to deserve his hellish life, and that was followed only minutes later by more angry yelling. The fact that he was still fighting the alcohol in his system didn’t help anything either.
The older man looked at his son, who now sat in a chair next to the table in the living room, his shoulders slumped and his head hanging. What could he do? Nothing, really, except to be there for his son, and to offer himself as a sympathetic ear for Jarod to express his anger and pain.
Major shook his head, convinced that he wasn’t seeing the full picture. Something was wrong, but he wasn’t able to put the finger on just what it was. He had only met Miss Parker once, and most of that encounter he’d spent looking down the barrel of his own gun, a relic from his time in the military. She had started the interview by announcing her intention to shoot him, and things didn’t get much better after that. She had been angry and on edge the entire time. In the nearly non-existent lighting of the cell there in the deep sublevels of the Centre, he’d only glimpses of her, but his first impression was that Catherine was back. She had the same beauty as her mother, but there was something more. Something different.
She had been a strange mixture of contradictions; strong, yet vulnerable, angry and yet her eyes betrayed a desolation that made *him* want to cry. It was clear that she wanted to hate him, but there was another side to her that wouldn’t let her take action without knowing both sides of the story. She had listened to him, even though it was clear she wasn’t sure if she could believe him. He knew without a doubt that she had heard far too many lies in her life.
He remembered his last conversation with Catherine. She had told him that she was willing to do anything at all to rescue her child form the claws of the Centre. The major wondered what her daughter was willing to do to keep her child safe. Not to have the child in the first place, had that been her solution?
He looked at the miserable figure huddled in the chair; his son. Jarod would have loved to be a father, and he knew exactly how his felt right now. With another inward sigh he remembered his elation when his wife had told him that she was pregnant. With a smile he recalled the moment when he laid his had on Margaret’s lightly swollen stomach and felt the light movements of the baby. He regretted that Jarod wasn’t going to have the chance to experience that kind of joy this time.
Love could be cruel, and there was no question that his son loved this woman. A part of his anger, the Major suspected, was the result of the fact that no matter what she had done he simply could not stop loving her.
He walked over to his son and laid his hand on the younger man’s shoulder.
"Why don’t I go out and see where JJ is? I think we could all use something to eat right about now." With an encouraging squeeze of the shoulder, he left his oldest to look for his youngest.
Jarod lifted his head and looked after his father’s retreating back. He felt like someone was using his head as a drum. He could still feel the pulsing rhythm.
‘Parker would have loved---’ Jarod groaned out loud. Sooner or later every thought lead him back to the one person he never wanted to think about again.
He still could not understand why. The thing that hurt the most was that she hadn’t even considered him important enough to tell. He had always dreamed of having a family; his father, his mother and Emily, yes, but also a family of his own. He wanted to have somebody to love and to take care of. A place he could call home, where he could always return. Children were a part of that picture. A baby girl with deep blue eyes.
‘Enough!’ He tried to stop his thoughts. This image had haunted him during the nights and now it was creeping in when he was awake as well.
He scanned the room, maybe he could find something to distract his mind. Nothing. Chair, table, laptop, note, fireplace.. he stopped.
There was a small yellow note on the laptop. Slowly, afraid that a sudden movement would bring back the full orchestra in his head instead this lonely drummer, he rose from his chair and made his way over to the other side of the table. He reached over and grabbed the post-it.
He read the note and felt a wave of nausea swept over him. He was just about to call for his father when the Major came back.
"I can’t find JJ...." the Major’s comment trailed off when he saw Jarod. He looked at his grown up son; he looked, if possible, even paler than he had when he’d first awakened this morning. He stared at him with a shocked expression. At the same moment he noticed the piece of yellow paper in Jarod’s left hand..
Not expecting any good news Jarod father slowly walked over to his son.
"JJ is on his way to Blue Cove to help Miss Parker." Jarod said bleakly, handing the note to the older man.
In slow motion the Major lowered the gaze to the paper in his hand, not sure if he really wanted to read the full message. While reading it he felt like he’d been hit by a train. He shoved the paper in his pocket turned to grab the laptop.
"Grab your jacket, son," he ordered.
With a click he closed the small computer not bothering to turn it off. Neither of the man noticed still open mail icon on the screen.
*****
Angelo made his way to the vent as fast as he could. After Miss Parker had left he had crawled back to his favourite hiding place curled up and tried to make the right decision. It always came back to the same thing, she needed help. More than just Jarod. He began to move again.
He carefully scanned he room, but nobody except from Sydney and Broots where inside. Once he was sure that it was safe he opened the vent and entered the room.
"Angelo." The older man welcomed him warmly.
Angelo tried to smile and hurried over to Sydney.
"Help." He cursed his difficulty in speaking as he forced out the word.
"Help whom? Are you hurt? " Sydney asked with concern.
"Miss Parker needs help." Angelo managed, thinking that at least that was clear. He hated his inability to get out the words that were so clear in his mind.
Angelo sensed Sydney’s hesitation with a growing sense of desperation. They had to help soon, or it would be to late.
"Miss Parker needs help," He repeated, his voice pleading. "both dead soon."
"Sydney, what is he talking about?" Broots asked in a scared voice. Angelo seemed to be highly agitated, desperate even.
"I am not sure." The psychiatrist answered him. "I think Miss Parker and Emily might be in danger." While he told this to Broots he looked at Angelo, who nodded and shook his head at the same time.
"Help, now!" He stressed urgently. Broots and Sydney looked at each other for several heartbeats; Broots worried and ready to spring into action, Sydney unsure.
"I’m going!" Broots finally burst out defiantly. "She’s never let me down and I won’t fail her now."
"You’re right, Broots." Sydney sighed with a touch of self contempt. "I have been a bit of a self-righteous prig, haven’t I?"
Broots wisely left that question unanswered as the three men hurried out of the Centre.
