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Story Notes:
Many thanks to those reading and a special thanks to my muse she not only feeds me ideas but encourages me to keep trying this.
Author's Chapter Notes:
There is little here that was not in the episode. It is a short glimpse into what I thought Jarod should have been feeling -- even if he hadn't shown it.
IN THE PRESENSE OF GUILT
“Where guilt is, rage and courage both abound.”
Ben Johnson, Sejanus His Fall
I was taking a moment, learning a new hobby when the news came on with a scene from Blue Cove. Immediately, I stopped what I was doing and watched intently. My emotions were so shaken I had to sit and stare in horror.
My first thought was for her, the despair, hopelessness and pain so clearly painted on her face, it tore my breath from me.
The second thought was guilt. I was guilty for her pain. His death.
I needed to go back to the one place I both was drawn to and hated. I needed to find the solution to do what I could to rectify her pain. If ever there was such a thing. Maybe I needed to rectify my guilt. I never wanted her to feel this again. She had it all her life, every time she had a hint of a real life, a vague feeling of normalcy of happiness it was torn out of her with such force. I felt that pain just watching those few seconds of newsreel.
When she answered the phone her voice was less than a whisper. She seemed to know it was me calling. I couldn’t handle the pain in her voice so I relented back to the game between us. When Parker sadly replied she didn’t have the energy to sleep let alone chase me, that sword of guilt again plunged into my heart. I did what I do best with her; I threw out a riddle hoping it would distract her from her heartbreak. When she hung up on me it left me feeling adrift in many emotions that I never understood before.
I sat for a long time considering my part in the murder of her lover. The lover I convinced to look into her life and see if she didn’t hold the promise of someone he longed for, when all the time she was my promise.
Looking back, at my actions not only was I substituting him for me, because I was a coward to face her in the way I wanted. But I also set him up to fail. It wasn’t entirely my fault, I didn’t know at the time that my heart held her as its promise of happiness, I didn’t know that I would feel so empty when Thomas told me of their blossoming relationship, I never thought I’d be jealous of the happiness in his eyes when he told me of the wonder of her.
It always seemed that to me that that wonder that promise would only be mine. Selfishness was not an emotion I was acquainted with; I didn’t recognize it to be my emotion when I sent the “For Sale” sign to the Centre. I rationalized it as warning her that he was moving. Well, that is what I told myself at the time. I never thought that they would be so close as to share so much.
Now, seeing and hearing her pain, the truth of the matter is that I couldn’t live without her in my life. I couldn’t be the second banana in her fruit basket. It haunts me to know that perhaps he was the better man for her. He made her happy. Thomas never glued her to the floor, ruined her expense clothing, and humiliated her for the fun of humiliating her in front of her co-workers and her family.
The guilt is crushing my chest; it is keeping me awake at night and keeping me free from thinking of anything else. If I do nothing else I need to solve this terrible crime against her soul, I need to redeem myself the best I can.
Even a genius cannot bring back the dead, cannot go back in time and undo the past and his part in making someone’s life the hell in which he helped create.
I blamed her family for making her bitter, for their betrayals, and yet here I stand perhaps the biggest betrayer of all. My actions were brought about without thinking of the consequences, out of my own needs, does that count for more than why her own family betrayed her? God, I hope so. How can I be as bad as they are?
Knowing this woman, she will eventually learn of my part in introducing her to Thomas. She knows that I sent the sign, that I alerted the Centre that they maybe losing their huntress. I honestly didn’t think they would revert to murdering him, as a genius, I should have.
I have dropped all activities until I can get to the bottom of this and given Parker the. I know she is also working on finding the killers. I know she and I both know the Centre is behind it, but who? There is no bigger den of iniquities as the Centre. A cast of thousands, like a masquerade ball no one is as they appear. There are innocents like Broots that are caught in that net and can’t get out on their own terms and live, but the innocents are far out numbered by the criminally insane that are in charge.
The man in jail had died of an overdose; I had done the autopsy and knew the results. I followed Parker to the bar after they buried Thomas. Where they managed to bury another part of her soul. I heard her speak of the man she loved. It broke my heart. I watched the small crowd gathered, Broots and Sydney were the only concerned faces. Lyle held that smirk I’ve always wanted to rip off his face, Mr. and Mrs. Parker were there, he looked proud when she managed to pull her self together and finish. No Parker shows emotion. The Troll, as Parker refers to her stepmother looked as bad as Lyle, a smirk. A guilty smirk. As Igor would say, “I have a gut feeling”.
When Parker ordered another drink I walked up behind her at the nearly deserted bar. I had arranged a cab to take her home, but wanted to tell her suspect in jail had died. She didn’t recognize me even after I spoke to her regarding the coffee and the cab. It wasn’t until I sat across from her that I could she the recognition in her eyes, eyes, puffy from crying, eyes heavy with weariness and alcohol.
There was nothing more I wanted than to crush her to me, to take the pain away. How could I when I helped cause so much of the anguish. I kept my distance across the table from her, even when she leaned toward me and called me her good friend Jar. I got up to leave after reminding her to keep searching for the missing pieces. But I couldn’t bring myself to leave without allowing myself to get a little closer to feel to the woman. I leaned in toward her and then left. Making sure the bartender knew she was not to leave with anyone other than the cabbie out side. He was a friend of mine that I trusted would see her safely to her home.
Another innocent death of the policeman Parker trusted. I knew she felt responsible for that too, I tried to tell her that it was not she, that it was the Centre. She already knew it. I think she already suspected the guilty parties, but I still reminded her of their culpability in the incident.
When the junk man too was found dead at the meeting he was to give Parker the information it was the end of the information outside of the Centre. The last piece of the chain as Mr. Parker put it.
No matter how he worked it out, no matter who pulled the trigger, the old man guilty up to his eyebrows. Parker knows it. She has changed. In some ways she is stronger, more fearless, and yet softer. She occupies more of my heart than ever before.
I don’t know that I will ever be able to get past my guilt, without letting her know that I put Thomas in danger. I brought him into the picture. The only good thing that came of it all is that for that small amount of time she knew what it was to be happy with someone. It opened her eyes to the world around her, the good, the bad and the ugliest of the ugly.
It opened my eyes to my imperfections, that a genius is still a man and arrogance is not an answer. I will go with as much humility as possible and try and make amends when I think Parker is up to hearing them.
I need to. I need to purge this oppressive guilt that is weighing me down.
“Where guilt is, rage and courage both abound.”
Ben Johnson, Sejanus His Fall
I was taking a moment, learning a new hobby when the news came on with a scene from Blue Cove. Immediately, I stopped what I was doing and watched intently. My emotions were so shaken I had to sit and stare in horror.
My first thought was for her, the despair, hopelessness and pain so clearly painted on her face, it tore my breath from me.
The second thought was guilt. I was guilty for her pain. His death.
I needed to go back to the one place I both was drawn to and hated. I needed to find the solution to do what I could to rectify her pain. If ever there was such a thing. Maybe I needed to rectify my guilt. I never wanted her to feel this again. She had it all her life, every time she had a hint of a real life, a vague feeling of normalcy of happiness it was torn out of her with such force. I felt that pain just watching those few seconds of newsreel.
When she answered the phone her voice was less than a whisper. She seemed to know it was me calling. I couldn’t handle the pain in her voice so I relented back to the game between us. When Parker sadly replied she didn’t have the energy to sleep let alone chase me, that sword of guilt again plunged into my heart. I did what I do best with her; I threw out a riddle hoping it would distract her from her heartbreak. When she hung up on me it left me feeling adrift in many emotions that I never understood before.
I sat for a long time considering my part in the murder of her lover. The lover I convinced to look into her life and see if she didn’t hold the promise of someone he longed for, when all the time she was my promise.
Looking back, at my actions not only was I substituting him for me, because I was a coward to face her in the way I wanted. But I also set him up to fail. It wasn’t entirely my fault, I didn’t know at the time that my heart held her as its promise of happiness, I didn’t know that I would feel so empty when Thomas told me of their blossoming relationship, I never thought I’d be jealous of the happiness in his eyes when he told me of the wonder of her.
It always seemed that to me that that wonder that promise would only be mine. Selfishness was not an emotion I was acquainted with; I didn’t recognize it to be my emotion when I sent the “For Sale” sign to the Centre. I rationalized it as warning her that he was moving. Well, that is what I told myself at the time. I never thought that they would be so close as to share so much.
Now, seeing and hearing her pain, the truth of the matter is that I couldn’t live without her in my life. I couldn’t be the second banana in her fruit basket. It haunts me to know that perhaps he was the better man for her. He made her happy. Thomas never glued her to the floor, ruined her expense clothing, and humiliated her for the fun of humiliating her in front of her co-workers and her family.
The guilt is crushing my chest; it is keeping me awake at night and keeping me free from thinking of anything else. If I do nothing else I need to solve this terrible crime against her soul, I need to redeem myself the best I can.
Even a genius cannot bring back the dead, cannot go back in time and undo the past and his part in making someone’s life the hell in which he helped create.
I blamed her family for making her bitter, for their betrayals, and yet here I stand perhaps the biggest betrayer of all. My actions were brought about without thinking of the consequences, out of my own needs, does that count for more than why her own family betrayed her? God, I hope so. How can I be as bad as they are?
Knowing this woman, she will eventually learn of my part in introducing her to Thomas. She knows that I sent the sign, that I alerted the Centre that they maybe losing their huntress. I honestly didn’t think they would revert to murdering him, as a genius, I should have.
I have dropped all activities until I can get to the bottom of this and given Parker the. I know she is also working on finding the killers. I know she and I both know the Centre is behind it, but who? There is no bigger den of iniquities as the Centre. A cast of thousands, like a masquerade ball no one is as they appear. There are innocents like Broots that are caught in that net and can’t get out on their own terms and live, but the innocents are far out numbered by the criminally insane that are in charge.
The man in jail had died of an overdose; I had done the autopsy and knew the results. I followed Parker to the bar after they buried Thomas. Where they managed to bury another part of her soul. I heard her speak of the man she loved. It broke my heart. I watched the small crowd gathered, Broots and Sydney were the only concerned faces. Lyle held that smirk I’ve always wanted to rip off his face, Mr. and Mrs. Parker were there, he looked proud when she managed to pull her self together and finish. No Parker shows emotion. The Troll, as Parker refers to her stepmother looked as bad as Lyle, a smirk. A guilty smirk. As Igor would say, “I have a gut feeling”.
When Parker ordered another drink I walked up behind her at the nearly deserted bar. I had arranged a cab to take her home, but wanted to tell her suspect in jail had died. She didn’t recognize me even after I spoke to her regarding the coffee and the cab. It wasn’t until I sat across from her that I could she the recognition in her eyes, eyes, puffy from crying, eyes heavy with weariness and alcohol.
There was nothing more I wanted than to crush her to me, to take the pain away. How could I when I helped cause so much of the anguish. I kept my distance across the table from her, even when she leaned toward me and called me her good friend Jar. I got up to leave after reminding her to keep searching for the missing pieces. But I couldn’t bring myself to leave without allowing myself to get a little closer to feel to the woman. I leaned in toward her and then left. Making sure the bartender knew she was not to leave with anyone other than the cabbie out side. He was a friend of mine that I trusted would see her safely to her home.
Another innocent death of the policeman Parker trusted. I knew she felt responsible for that too, I tried to tell her that it was not she, that it was the Centre. She already knew it. I think she already suspected the guilty parties, but I still reminded her of their culpability in the incident.
When the junk man too was found dead at the meeting he was to give Parker the information it was the end of the information outside of the Centre. The last piece of the chain as Mr. Parker put it.
No matter how he worked it out, no matter who pulled the trigger, the old man guilty up to his eyebrows. Parker knows it. She has changed. In some ways she is stronger, more fearless, and yet softer. She occupies more of my heart than ever before.
I don’t know that I will ever be able to get past my guilt, without letting her know that I put Thomas in danger. I brought him into the picture. The only good thing that came of it all is that for that small amount of time she knew what it was to be happy with someone. It opened her eyes to the world around her, the good, the bad and the ugliest of the ugly.
It opened my eyes to my imperfections, that a genius is still a man and arrogance is not an answer. I will go with as much humility as possible and try and make amends when I think Parker is up to hearing them.
I need to. I need to purge this oppressive guilt that is weighing me down.
Chapter End Notes:
I apologize for the mistakes and errors of my way! Writing stories only became a hobby with this fandom.
