Day 4

Parker crept down the stairs of Ben's old-fashioned home, cursing every whining floorboard beneath her. Last night she had been too physically and mentally exhausted to even begin digging into their reasons for coming here. Ben had set her and Jarod up for the night without questions, knowing that the time would come.

Just like the last time she was here, Parker had relished in one of her best nights of sleep ever knowing that the room and the bed she slept in had once served as her mother's very own safe haven. She was still an early riser though, years of habit not easily washed away. It was early enough that the sunlight was just beginning to mist through the lacey white curtains of the living room. Ben had offered Jarod his own room, but the pretender had politely declined and made himself comfortable on the sofa, which is where he was lying when Parker approached him.

Parker gently rolled her graceful dancer's feet toward his unconscious form, hovering over the back of the couch. She'd never seen him so at peace or heard such relief in someone's soft breaths. She imagined he must sleep well here, too.

Allowing her mind to drift around lazily was a luxury in her life which came rarely in the drives to and from work or in her warm morning shower. She could think freely here. Her mind's drifting from her last visit to Maine, to memories of her mother, to the surprises of the past few days caused her to be all the more surprised when Jarod's eyes sprung open and locked directly onto hers.

Parker jumped and clutched her chest, "Jesus Christ, Jarod. Do not do that."

Blinking sleepily, Jarod muttered in a sleep-coated voice, "I just opened my eyes."

"Yeah, well," she drifted off, realizing that that was in fact all he did and that she was being a tad overly dramatic.

"Were you enjoying the view?" he grinned, still looking up at her.

Miss Parker scoffed, "I was just surprised you weren't bawling in your sleep. I've noticed you calling Sydney to make the bad dreams all better."

Jarod refused to show her that her mocking tone could easily sting his pride. "Yeah you're right. I've had no reason for nightmares in my life."

"Oh save it. I'm sick of your sob fests. When will you get over it and grow a pair?"

Jarod bolted upright, "What exactly do you want me to get over, Miss Parker? My entire life has been nothing but manipulation and lies! I would think that of anyone, you would understand the way that feels."

Parker stared at him in silence, shocking him when she replied softly, "You're right. I'm sorry. I don't want to be like this here."

"What do you mean?" Jarod stared at her perplexed.

"I mean this was my mother's retreat. She could be herself here without worrying about the Centre or the lies. She could just be. Arguing with you here just," Parker paused. "Destroys that magic."

Tilting his head, Jarod's expression softened dramatically, "Since when do you believe in magic?"

Their eyes locked and the rest of the world probably froze. Reality never seemed so new, so inviting.

But the world didn't freeze, and neither did Ben, who chose that moment to clomp down the stairs with the lack of subtlety that curses all aging men who have lost the elasticity in their joints and the hearing from their ears.

"Hey kids. How do pancakes sound?" he asked cheerily.

Jarod broke his gaze with Parker and smiled at him, "Sounds like music to my ears, Ben."

*****

Maple syrup scent and the clattering sounds of dishes permeated the air twenty minutes later. Parker had never been a fan of butter yellow decor, yet somehow it seemed to fit just right in this kitchen. She was trying to resist looking at Jarod to prevent the nausea she experienced while watching him scarf half a syrup-saturated pancake in one massive bite. She picked at her own food and took a polite bite as Ben sat down across from her.

"I really am thrilled that the two of you are here," Ben began. Cue the polite, yet certainly not forced guest smiles. "But I know that only something important could bring you two together. And if you're here with me it has to do with Catherine."

"Yes it does," Parker began. "I know that my mother's secrets are what will free me from the Centre forever."

"You wish to leave the Centre?"

She and Jarod glanced at one another instantly before she answered, "Yes."

Ben's painted white chair creaked as he leaned back against it with a sigh, "That's very risky business, Miss Parker."

"I know, but my mother was brave enough to try and get me out and I refuse for her death to have been in vain."

"To get us both out," Jarod added.

Ben smiled gently, "Everything she did was for her little girl. It really was. She loved you so much. I never even had the chance to see you two together, but I didn't have to. I could see it in her eyes when she told me which songs you played at your piano recital, how well you were doing in school, or the latest book you two had been reading together."

Parker wiped at the corners of her eyes and replied in her strongest voice, "I know she loved me."

The two men pretended not to have heard the rift in her voice.

"Your mother would be extremely proud of you." Ben had a way of pushing every damn button in her emotional core.

She spread a plastic smile on her face, "That's difficult to believe."

"It shouldn't be. It takes amazing resolve and strength to defy the environment that surrounds you. Your mother was an incredible fighter. She never liked talking about Centre business with me, but I certainly knew that about her."

"See, I never got to know that side of her at all. She let me believe that nothing was wrong for so long," Parker sighed. "Sometimes I feel like I never really knew her at all."

"But you did. You knew her better than anyone because when she was with you, she was exactly who she wanted to be."

Those words were what it took to pull the tears that had been threatening the brims of her eyes. The combination of Maine, Ben, and her mother's memory were lethal to Miss Parker's facade. In fact, she was so far from her normal element that it was okay when Jarod put his arm around her.

*****

Later, the three of them sat in the living room. Parker was nursing a warm cup of English tea which Ben had smartly brewed for her after breakfast. Its herbs were soothing to her temperament and she was quickly rebuilding her boundaries.

"Does this photograph mean anything to you?" Jarod displayed the picture in his palm for Ben to see.

Taking it into his hands, Ben nodded, "Catherine showed me this place before. She said it would be the beginning of her new life and she hoped that together we would share it one day."

"The marking of her freedom?" Jarod repeated.

"I'm sorry. I'm not sure what she meant. I always found it difficult to press her because she rarely wanted to talk about the cryptic implications she often made, usually involving something dark that she wanted out of."

Parker had been silent until now, "She wanted to live there with you?"

"Yes I believe so."

"She wanted to run away with you," she whispered, smoothing the dent in Jarod's pillow beside her. "She was going to leave my father."

"That always seemed to be pretty clear in her plan, Parker," Jarod reminded her gently.

"I- I know. I just hadn't thought about what she'd do after that. She told me we were going to Europe."

"And you probably were," Ben inserted. "But not permanently. No, she always wanted to return to Maine."

"To live with you," she finished. "Where is this house?"

"Tomorrow you can go on your treasure hunt, Miss Parker. Today you'll rest."

Ben stood up and took her empty teacup and saucer into his hands and walked toward the kitchen. Parker looked at Jarod with the did-he-really-say-that? look, but of course he was grinning like a lunatic. Witnessing her doing nothing but relax all day long would indubitably be the hot fudge to his sundae.

Day 31

"I just need more time!" Sydney slammed his fist against Mr Parker's desk impatiently. Lyle rolled his eyes and sighed while his father actually considered Sydney's plea.

"I'm sorry Sydney, but the longer Jarod is within the Centre and not cooperating, the greater the risk that he will make another escape attempt."

Sydney could tell by the lack of emotion in Mr Parker's eyes that he was not sorry at all.

Lyle stepped forward, "Yeah, Sydney. You've had plenty of time to make our puppet dance and there hasn't been an inch of progress since day one."

"It's time to resort to different tactics," Mr Parker declared to Lyle's nod.

The psychiatrist crossed his arms, "What kind of tactics?"

"How about the kind that work?" Lyle was beaming and Sydney literally felt a wave of nausea splash through his stomach.

"We have a plan in development. Should we need your assistance in any way, you will be contacted. Until then, you may consider Jarod to be someone else's problem."

"What?" Sydney said. "You can't be serious. Nobody knows Jarod better than I do. Nobody can understand him better than I do. I must be on this project."

"I think you'll be surprised at how quickly we prove you wrong on that one, doctor," Lyle sneered.

"What is the plan?"

Mr Parker growled back, "Need to know."

"Which you don't," chimed Lyle.

"Jarod is no ordinary project, Mr Parker," Sydney began, deciding to ignore Lyle's barbs. "He cannot be experimented and played with. There is no one more valuable."

"I think after forty five years of running this place that I understand Jarod's worth," Mr Parker answered angrily.

As always, Sydney remained calm and objective. "Whatever your plan is, I will offer you my guidance. You would be wise to accept it."

A few seconds passed and Mr Parker nodded, "I will keep that in mind, Sydney. That will be all for now."

*****

Tasting your own blood always sets life into perspective. She'd experienced the sensation more times than she cared to count in the past few days. There were dark bruises on her body of various stages and sensitivity. Particular abuse had been given to her face and limbs, rarely elsewhere. She didn't recognize any of the suited men who entered her cell which she found peculiar. It made her question her location, but deep down she knew exactly where she was. There couldn't be anywhere darker, colder than the Centre.

*****

Jarod had been humming his familiar childhood tune for hours, the ups and downs of the melody lulling him into an artificial peacefulness. Cree-craw toad's foot, geese walk barefoot. Over and over again.

He hadn't seen Sydney at all today and that was probably a bad sign. Jarod could only imagine that the triumvirate's patience was wearing thin and his mentor would be paying the price, but only for now. He was under no delusions and knew he would suffer his own consequences soon enough.

Soon happened to be sooner than he thought. The door to his cell room opened and Jarod turned his head to see who his visitor was today. Would they come baring pain instruments or a new bout of twisted psychology?

But the anonymous men came with something else, someone else, whom they shoved toward the bars between themselves and Jarod. Jarod's heart diced and he felt it beat through his throat, his stomach, his fingertips. They'd gone too far this time, a feat he'd believed the Centre to have accomplished many times over already. Not hardly.

Jarod scrambled to the bars to meet her, shooting his arm through to catch her chin and raise it delicately. With eyes that had truly seen the scum of society, Parker let him gape, let him pity her.

"Oh my God," he whispered, letting the pads of his fingers brush over her skin, the slow-forming scabs on her chin, the black around her brilliantly blue yet pink-stained eyes. Every wince of pain she emitted doubled the emotion burning in his chest. She wore plain gray cotton that hung loosely around her, making her appear frightfully weak. It was strikingly obvious that her nose was broken as well. "Why did they do this to you?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

Pushing her tangled hair away from her face, Jarod ran a hand down her bare arm until his own could reach no further through the cage, "What are you talking about?"

"To hurt you. This is all a show. They're messing around with me so that you will have an emotional breakdown like you are now," Parker stopped. "And don't you dare let it work. You hear me?"

She could visibly see his brown eyes melting with every passing second and she knew she was losing him. "Jarod! I'm serious here. You've got to be a hell of a lot stronger than this."

He shook his head numbly, "You're right. They know exactly what to do now. They're going to use you against me."

"Only if you let them, wonder boy."

Jarod rested his forehead against the bars between them, trying to smile at her choice of words, "How can I not?"

"I'll be fine, Jarod," she paused, letting him grab her hand and pull her closer so their noses were nearly touching. "My father. Well."

So many implications drifted from those words and they both knew it.

"If he's allowing these bastards to treat you this way I swear-"

"You swear what? There's nothing we can do about it and you need to get it together," she said with far less strength than the words conveyed. "We both know they brought me here to crack your nerve, but you cannot budge. That is the last thing I want you to do. You got that?"

"I can't let them do this to you," Jarod said, biting his lip. "I can't."

"Jarod! Please."

Parker was right, like she so often was and it killed him. He could hear the anxiety deep within her, an indiscernible detail to anyone else, but one that shook him entirely. Jarod was a pretender, and yet he couldn't pretend he didn't care. The Centre had discovered his Achilles' heel and nothing terrifed him more.