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Story Notes:
This is a story for the PretenderForsaken 'Four Seasons Challenge' (Autumn Challenge #1 r11; You're not gonna need those)
Faith
"You're not gonna need those," he said with a nod to the cuffs. Ironic how those exact words had brought him here. How they were responsible for him throwing away what he had so long fought for, what he was now fighting against.
He watched his personal huntress arch an eyebrow, meeting the cool words - "it's my decision to make, genius" - with a shrug. It was her decision. That he had offered himself willingly might or might not enter into the equation. Time would tell... or the clicking of the cuffs, the cool metal around his wrists.
Not long ago it would have been frightening. Now, not so much frightening as it was liberating. It was as if a curtain fell, as if some weight was taken off his shoulders.
"I'm not going to fight, Parker," he informed her as she shoved him towards the waiting car, ignoring the drawn weapons of a team of Sweepers.
Jarod tilted his head into the sun, basking in the last rays of its warmth. It would be the last time he'd see this, feel this.
Still, it was the right decision. It had been his last decision. From now on, everything would be ruled by others again. When he ate, when he slept, what he ate and how long he worked. The thought of returning to that should scare him, but it didn't. Not anymore. Not after having been allowed to make a choice... and making the wrong one.
~~~~
"Alright, I'll surrender."
Six hours into the negotiations, sometimes broken and halting but slowly moving towards a peaceful end, despite the fury and defensiveness at the start.
"Good, that's the right decision. You know that. Your wife wouldn't have wanted you to do this." Soothing words to the offender, further smothering the waves and not letting anything come between the peaceful solution that seemed to have been found.
"I know." Crestfallen, morose and quiet.
~~~~
Jarod closed his eyes. Where had it all gone wrong? It hadn't been easy, but the offender had eventually surrendered. Everything had been alright. Nothing had pointed towards the sudden turn of events.
You're not gonna need those.
It had been his decision to forgo the cuffs, the offender so quiet and subdued.
You're not gonna need those.
His decision that had killed a woman and child.
You're not gonna need those.
His words, spoken before the offender had turned violent and shot two innocents after a struggle with a police officer to obtain the man's weapon.
You're not gonna need those.
Words that had soaked his hands in fresh blood.
Before, he'd been responsible for thinking things up, but never had a direct decision done this.
He sunk into the leather of the limousine. With choice comes responsibility. He'd made the wrong choice. People were dead.
It was safer to think things up instead of doing them. Bad enough, but not like this.
He opened his eyes once more when Parker spoke, her brows knitted together. "What's happened, Jarod?"
Another shrug, a fresh surge of guilt and sorrow. "The freedom of choice isn't what it's made out to be."
"You're not gonna need those," he said with a nod to the cuffs. Ironic how those exact words had brought him here. How they were responsible for him throwing away what he had so long fought for, what he was now fighting against.
He watched his personal huntress arch an eyebrow, meeting the cool words - "it's my decision to make, genius" - with a shrug. It was her decision. That he had offered himself willingly might or might not enter into the equation. Time would tell... or the clicking of the cuffs, the cool metal around his wrists.
Not long ago it would have been frightening. Now, not so much frightening as it was liberating. It was as if a curtain fell, as if some weight was taken off his shoulders.
"I'm not going to fight, Parker," he informed her as she shoved him towards the waiting car, ignoring the drawn weapons of a team of Sweepers.
Jarod tilted his head into the sun, basking in the last rays of its warmth. It would be the last time he'd see this, feel this.
Still, it was the right decision. It had been his last decision. From now on, everything would be ruled by others again. When he ate, when he slept, what he ate and how long he worked. The thought of returning to that should scare him, but it didn't. Not anymore. Not after having been allowed to make a choice... and making the wrong one.
~~~~
"Alright, I'll surrender."
Six hours into the negotiations, sometimes broken and halting but slowly moving towards a peaceful end, despite the fury and defensiveness at the start.
"Good, that's the right decision. You know that. Your wife wouldn't have wanted you to do this." Soothing words to the offender, further smothering the waves and not letting anything come between the peaceful solution that seemed to have been found.
"I know." Crestfallen, morose and quiet.
~~~~
Jarod closed his eyes. Where had it all gone wrong? It hadn't been easy, but the offender had eventually surrendered. Everything had been alright. Nothing had pointed towards the sudden turn of events.
You're not gonna need those.
It had been his decision to forgo the cuffs, the offender so quiet and subdued.
You're not gonna need those.
His decision that had killed a woman and child.
You're not gonna need those.
His words, spoken before the offender had turned violent and shot two innocents after a struggle with a police officer to obtain the man's weapon.
You're not gonna need those.
Words that had soaked his hands in fresh blood.
Before, he'd been responsible for thinking things up, but never had a direct decision done this.
He sunk into the leather of the limousine. With choice comes responsibility. He'd made the wrong choice. People were dead.
It was safer to think things up instead of doing them. Bad enough, but not like this.
He opened his eyes once more when Parker spoke, her brows knitted together. "What's happened, Jarod?"
Another shrug, a fresh surge of guilt and sorrow. "The freedom of choice isn't what it's made out to be."
