Welcome Home, Jarod

~Part 1
 

Author:  Brynna and Trixie
Rating:  NC-17,  Sexual situations, Language, Violence
Category:  Relationship drama, Romance, Adventure, Major angst (J/MP)
Archived on:  March 26, 2000
Timeline:  Mid-season two
Spoilers:  None
Summary:  After allowing the Centre to recapture him, Miss Parker now must find a way to free Jarod...

Disclaimer:   The characters portrayed in this fan fiction belong to NBC and any other copyright holders.  No infringement is intended.
 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The memory of Her voice, the last time she'd said anything to me rouses me from my state of unconsciousness.

I look around this small room - cell, I internally correct myself - and shudder a moment before my eyes close.

Darkness. This is much better. I can't see what's around me. I can't see the nothingness, or the dark, lifeless walls. I can't see the blood seeping down my side and along my knuckles. I can't see my knees, the material of my pants worn away over them, bloody and skinned.

But I can hear. I can hear the sounds that are not really there, the sounds that only torture me in my mind. The sound of Raines' oxygen tank wheeling through the Centre. I can hear Mr. Parker popping open the bottle of champagne. I can hear the songs of ding dong the Genius has returned echo through this sad imitation of a medieval torture chamber. I can hear *her*, chortling about how she got me to trust her, cackling over my naiveté and my willingness to give myself up for the sake of a child.

My heart bleeds as my body does. My back is bruised from the solid punches they'd delivered to it. Not sure who they were. Sweepers. Hired thugs, their sole purpose for being here to beat those who've disobeyed,or thought as an individual. Individual thought and imagination are strictly prohibited at the Centre. It's why I can't be here. It's why I'd rather be dead.

It would be easy right now to die. I've lost a lot of blood. My left eye is swollen shut and my right is too tired to remain open. My left shoulder is dislocated, my stomach is bruised and I have nine broken ribs, according to the last count I did. A large gash is positioned along my chest from collar bone to the tops of my ribs. It bleeds steadily. I could just slip away. I could let myself die from these wounds.

But I won't. Not yet. Because that means they win. It means *she* wins. I feel tears sting my eyes again and I refuse to cry for her. How could she be that cruel? How could she have done this? Used my greatest fear-something she *knew* was my greatest fear - to trap me. But it's not entirely her fault. She'd told me a thousand times before she'd do *anything* to bring me back. And in my desperate need to believe she was the girl I'd known - that she truly was her mother's daughter - I'd blinded myself to who and what she really was. I'd allowed myself to believe her when she said the Centre had another child and that she needed my help to get him out. I'd believed her when she said she believed me - believed her mother - and wanted something different for herself, something better. I'd believed her.

But I was wrong.

Because she didn't mean it. The tone of her voice had been so sincere. .. so believable on the phone. But then after I'd gotten the child out. . . . she'd trapped me with her sweepers. Her eyes had been cold, dead Her voice was tight and had a malicious pleasure to it. She'd thrown me against a wall and handcuffed me. Then she'd walked me down the hall, parading me through the Centre like a trophy. Her father was there. Raines. Sydney. God Sydney had looked so remorseful. His eyes connected
with mine and I knew he wasn't behind this. That he was as sickened by it as I was.

But that wasn't the final indignity. That wasn't what broke me. You'd think it would be the beating. You really would. But that's my secret. I didn't even feel the beatings. The rest of me was long dead already. Because of her voice. Her damned voice that has haunted my dreams - both the good and the bad - since I was eight years old. But this time. . . .it was colder. . . harder then I ever remembered. It was spiteful, like her spitting at me and saying 'see? This is how I felt all this time.' She looked me in the eye just before she shut the door to my cell. And she told me something I'd prayed never to hear.

*Don't even think about escaping again Jarod. It wouldn't do you any good, anyhow. Baby brother's dead, and I just got word your Mommy's dead too.*

Baby brother's dead.

Mommy's dead too.

The words echo through my mind and I can't make them stop. I'm beginning to feel the physical pain again, though it's minimal in comparison to the emotional and mental anguish I feel. And even as I hate her, even asI am eternally saddened by what has become of her, I still love her. Always. It is a curse from childhood when I first learned how to love her. And I live with the knowledge that she will never - could never -love me back. That she is indeed her Father's daughter - though who her biological father is still hangs in the air - and that she will never be anything else no matter how much I may want her to. Need her to.

I'm sorry Catherine. I failed.

Perhaps I was wrong. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad to curl up and letdeath claim me. No more pain. No more suffering. Just sweet surrender to the darkness, to the numbness. But then they'd win. And there would be no one to stop them the next time they decided to take another child, to ruin their life and steal their soul. No one left to stop the monsters from destroying the world.

So I lay on the floor, my bruised back pressed against the cement - Theydid not even give me a cot this time around - wishing I could hear a bird sing, or feel the wind and sun on my face. I feel my mother near me, as she has always been, as she will always be. And I feel *her* -not the woman who threw me in this cell but my fondest imaginings of her - brushing the hair from my face as she has always done in my delirium and holding the monsters at bay long enough for me to recoup, kissing my
forehead softly and whispering to me that it's all right. That everything will be all right. My eyelids slowly drift shut and I become
aware that I'm about to lose consciousness. Those ghost like fingertips stroke me again and I hear her voice, soothing, not at all as she had spoken the words to me before. Her voice makes me want to believe them as I drift into the darkness.

Welcome home Jarod.

~~~~~

~ Shit. This was NOT supposed to happen. ~

Pacing a small path over the floor in front of my couch, it's the only thought that radiates.

~ Not supposed to happen. Shit. ~

If only . . . if only he *hadn't* trusted me. I know I needed him to, that little boy needed him to, but if only he hadn't.

~ Shit. This shit was not supposed to happen. ~

And now he's locked back up, by me of all people. He has to think it's my fault. Okay, okay, it *is* my fault. But not in the way he has to be thinking. I didn't want him back there, not for good. I couldn't let Daddy and Raines have another one, ruin another child's life. And I needed Jarod to get him out. I couldn't do it alone.

~ Not supposed to happen. Shit, shit. ~

What a lie. My mother could have done it alone, if she had the information I have now. But I was scared, and not thinking, so I just asked Jarod, rather desperately, to help me. He believed me. And he got the poor kid out. That's all he needed to do, yet he came back to tell me. Why the hell did he do that? If he hadn't, he wouldn't have walked in front of me with the damned sweepers, Daddy standing three feet behind me. What was I supposed to do? Let him walk out? We both would have been killed. Instantly. And what good are either of us dead?

~ Shit. Not supposed. Shit. To happen. ~

I can leave the Centre now, their golden boy is back, no one really cares what I do. And I have to leave, it'll look suspicious after all my bitching that I stick around now that he's back. I'll just draw it out, I have to fix things. Sydney won't even look at me, Broots is full of nothing but horror and contempt when he looks at me, even if he should understand to some degree. Angelo, whom Sydney has been working with, and who's getting better . . . god, Angelo, he just stares at me with these sad, hollow eyes. And it's only been twenty-six hours. I can't let all this go on. I deserve all that's being directed at me, but damn it,
none of them do.

~ Shit. Not. Shit. Supposed. Shit. To. Shit. Happen. Shit. ~

Somehow, I have to make things better. I listen to my words play over in my head. 'Don't even think about escaping again Jarod. It wouldn't do you any good, anyhow. Baby brother's dead, and I just got word your Mommy's dead too.' How could I have told him that like that? Oh, right, the cameras. I had to make things look real. The damned cameras . . .they put more of them into that cell, in the hopes he'd be back. And the microphones, that pick up even the quietest whisper. I wanted to
apologize, to mouth how sorry I was, but they would see. And after putting him in there, I needed to make everything better. What use to him am I dead? What use to him am I alive either, right now?

And Daddy. He has to . . . oh my god, he promised me they wouldn't hurt him like that. The beating that resonated through the walls, through the vents, through my soul. Hour, upon hour of them just beating him, trying to break his spirit, to make him never want to leave again. Too late guys, I took care of that part before you laid one single finger on him. I saw the light leave his eyes when I told him his mother is dead. He probably barely felt the wounds being inflicted on his body, the ones in his heart, his mind, hurting a hundred times worse.

Finally sitting down, my eyes drift around the room, unseeing. Nothing matters right now. I betrayed him in the worst possible way, and in turn, betrayed Sydney, my mother . . . myself. Not that what I get, what I go through is important anymore. I screwed up so much. This is the worst . . . I swore to him in no uncertain terms that he would not end up back under lock and key, playing to the whims of the Centre and the madmen who run it. I promised him that he was not going to be playing
puppet again. And then I turned around and locked the door, ensuringthat he would be.

And now I have nothing to do but find a way out for him, and hope that he can accept that last little bit of help, before he leaves my life for good. It's the only thing I hope for now - that I can get him out andthat he'll trust me just one last time, long enough for his freedom to be restored.

~ I'm so sorry Jarod. ~

~~~~~

Jarod slowly blinks his eyes open, noticing no particular difference with his eyes open versus his eyes closed other then his left eye hurt more due to the swelling. Deciding it isn't worth the effort, Jarod lets his eyes drift shut again, perfectly willing to slip back into oblivion.

"Don't go back to sleep Jarod." Raines' voice drifts from the corner of his cell. "You've been doing that far too much."

Jarod groans a little when he hears him. "Leave me alone," he mumblesthrough parched and bleeding lips.

"Leaving you alone," Raines wheezes, "is not conducive to our work."

Jarod shakes his head, turning onto his stomach. "I don't give a damn about your work," he grits out, swallowing.

"We all are well aware of that Jarod. However, you're here now and what we want is a little more important."

Jarod coughs, his throat dry and parched. "What you want," he croaks with effort, "is an abomination to the human condition and I will die before I'm a part of it again."

Raines moves out of the corner, standing over Jarod. "I can assure you Jarod that your death will not be any time soon."

"And I can assure," Jarod says in a raspy, pained voice, "that my death is the only way you'll gain my compliance."

Raines sighs a little. "I suppose you deserve another couple of hours before we begin work. I wouldn't recommend sleeping though."

Jarod lifts his head slowly, his eyes making their way to meet Raines for the first time. "I will sleep when I want to sleep," Jarod says with the last breath he can manage, laying his head back down, his cheek pressed against the concrete.

Raines stares down at Jarod in disgust for a moment, then turns and leaves the cell, locking the door again behind him.

~~~~~

Sydney sits behind his desk, re-reading emails he and Jarod had exchanged over the past few months. A small smile creases his face, then immediately falls away as Sydney's sure he can still hear the screaming coming from the cell. Miss Parker knocks softly on his door. She opens it a little and sticks her head inside. "Syd?"

Sydney ignores her and closes down the windows on his computer, initiating the shut-down sequence.

Miss Parker shuts her eyes a little. She walks into Sydney's office and shuts the door. "I'm sorry Syd," she says heartbrokenly.

Sydney's head snaps up to meet her. "*I'm* not the one you should be sorry for," he clips out in an angry tone.

Miss Parker swallows hard, her eyes shutting again. "I know. And if I could apologize to him without them finding me doing it, I would."

Sydney narrows his eyes. "Why Parker?" he asks softly. "Why do you care? You have what you always wanted. Jarod back in the Centre. You traded his life for yours. You're free."

"No I'm not." Miss Parker shakes her head slowly. "I may have a way out of the Centre, but I'm not free of anything."

Sydney slowly walks toward her and places his hands on each of her cheeks, holding her head firmly between his hands. He looks into her eyes. "Yesterday," he says slowly, "I had never seen you look more like your father." He firms up his hold on her head. "At this moment, I have never seen the resemblance between you and your mother quite so clearly." He looks at her carefully. "What road are you taking Parker?"

Miss Parker takes a deep, unsteady breath. "That's part of why I'm here. I have. .." she takes another breath. "I have to fix this."

"How do you intend to fix it Parker?" Sydney asks her intently. "Say it."

"I have to get him out," she whispers, her eyes shutting again.

Sydney's hold on her head loosens a bit. He leans forehead and places the softest of kisses against her forehead. "Good girl," he murmurs fondly.

Miss Parker's eyes open again, shining with tears. "I need your help."

Sydney smiles gently at her. "You have it," he tells her seriously.

"Do you know what actually happened? Why things went the way that they did?"

Sydney looks at her closely. "I didn't," he says slowly, "until I saw your face just now." He sighs. "What was the plan Parker?" he asks her in a gentle tone.

Miss Parker sighs and leans against Sydney's desk. "He was just supposed to help me get that little boy out of here. None of this was supposed to happen."

Sydney sighs out a ragged breath and brushes her hair away from her forehead. "You were trying to save a child," he murmurs in more then a little wonder. His eyes take on a far off look, clearing illustrating that he is not in the moment.

Miss Parker nods, her eyes focused on the wall behind Sydney. "Yeah. I was too scared to try to do it myself. And I asked him to help. He probably thinks I set him up."

"Considering what you said to him," Sydney tells her honestly, "I don't see how he wouldn't. Not to mention his logic and rational skills aren't with him now. He's in a small room, he's hurt, and he doesn't have anyone to trust. He is - in his mind at least - alone."

"I know. And if I could change everything I would. Everything I said, everything I did that was for other people's benefit. I knew that I didn't have a choice. I couldn't just let him walk out. We both would've been killed. And if I was seen obviously showing sympathy to him, they would've killed me anyway. So I had to find something, but all that worked was just dredging up that  heer anger I used to have for him, that I still have for so many people here. I just let it loose. They would've killed him and me and what good would that have done anyway?"

"Who are you trying to convince Parker?" he asks slowly. "Me or yourself?"

Miss Parker's eyes finally focus on Sydney's face. "Me," she says simply. "Because I. . . part of me believes what I'm saying,  but then there's part of me that's just mocking every word of it. I spent so much time trying to accomplish this as the end result. So why should I be upset?"

Sydney sighs and cups her cheek softly. "I won't lie to you and say what you did was the right thing. Because I don't claim to have answers like that. But I honestly believe that it was the only thing you believed you could do at the time to keep you both alive." He smiles gently at her. "And as for why you're upset? I think that's a question you should ask yourself. Because you're the only one who can answer it."

Miss Parker licks her lips and takes a deep breath. "Yeah. I guess I should try and figure that out sometime."

Sydney nods a little. "Or you could just try to remember," he tells her softly. He takes a deep breath. "In the meantime, how do we get Jarod out?"

Miss Parker shrugs a little. "I'm not sure. We're probably going to need help from Broots and Angelo. And neither of them will talk to me."

Sydney nods. "Follow me," he says simply, walking out of his office.

Miss Parker stands up a little shakily and follows Sydney out of theoffice.

~~~~~

Sydney walks into the computer room, Miss Parker behind him. Broots and Angelo sit in front of one of the Centre's many security computers. "Angelo are you sure this is the way?" Broots asks a little nervously.

Angelo nods, his eyes a little wide.

Broots sighs deeply and hits the enter key. The main camera in Jarod's cell clicks on and Jarod's body, lying unmoving and  curled into itself on the floor becomes visible. Broots takes a deep breath, hissing the air between his teeth. "Jesus," he mutters in horror.

Miss Parker lets out a shallow breath and grabs onto one of the backs of a chair, steadying herself as she stares at Jarod on the computer monitor. Broots spins around to see her, narrowing his eyes then turning away from her again, looking back at Jarod. Angelo looks back at Miss Parker. He shakes his head a little, his eyes hurt. He looks back at the computer monitor, a sad expression on his face.

Miss Parker sighs a little. "I deserve that," she murmurs, very softly.

"Damn straight you do," Broots mutters loudly.

Sydney sighs. "No, she doesn't," he says clearly. "Mr. Broots. How goes the plan to get Jarod out?"

Broots turns wide eyes back to Sydney, then nods at Miss Parker. "Ix-nay on the arod-J in front of. . ." he glares at Miss Parker. "*Her*."

Sydney shakes his head. "She's here to help," he says simply.

Miss Parker takes a couple of steps closer to Broots and Angelo. "This is at least going to take the four of us. Can you save tearing me apart until he's out of there? I'll declare open season on myself as soon as we can get him away from them."

Broots narrows his eyes. "Why do you care?" he asks in total bewilderment. "You're the one that put in there in the first place. The one who dragged him through the Centre in handcuffs and shoved him into that cage." He looks at her, eyes wide. "Why help him now?"

Miss Parker wraps her arms around her waist tightly. "I guess I figuredthat putting him back in there and then getting him out was better then a bullet in the back for both of us. Maybe I was wrong."

"You're damn right you're wrong!" Broots explodes. "Look at him!" He jumps up and grabs her arm, pulling her over closer to the monitor. "I don't know exactly what they did to him, but I heard the screaming from in here. He was laying on his back before - you can tell by that large blood stain in the corner." Broots looks at her. "He can barely lift his head. He hasn't
moved. . ." Broots crinkles his eyebrows. "We lost the feed an hour ago. . . . we just now got it back. He hasn't moved once.
Same position." Broots shakes his head. "He's broken," he whispers.

"They broke him."

Miss Parker shakes her head. "No, I did. God I will take full responsibility for everything that went wrong, I just have to get him
out. All of this, yes, was my fault, I fucked up." She takes a couple deep breaths. "It wasn't supposed to happen. None of it.  And let me tell you something Mr. Broots - his screams are the only sound I can hear inside my head."

"Good," Broots says clearly. "Because after what we have *all* put him through, we deserve it. We deserve whatever happens to us." He looks at her coldly. "If you want him out, fine. We need the help. But if you decide at the last minute that Daddy's wishes are more important. . ." he trails off.

Miss Parker shakes her head. "The only thing I'll decide about Daddy is the best way to make him go away."

 Sydney swallows and slowly moves his head inside the space between Broots and Miss Parker. "Let's not insult or demean one another anymore," he says softly. "We have work to do. Plans to make."

Miss Parker moves her eyes from Broots' face to Sydney's. "Have you all worked out any viable ideas?"

Broots nods slowly. "He doesn't move," he says again. "So it isn't that hard to just tape a few minutes of film, then loop the tape. Angelo's working on hacking into the main feed so we can replace it. That'll give someone a maximum of ten minutes to get him out before anyone becomes suspicious."

Miss Parker nods. "What about the four Sweepers outside his door?"

Broots stares at her. "That's your job," he says clearly.

"I figured as much." Miss Parker sighs. "I think I know what to do with them."

Sydney clears his throat. "There's still fire damage in SL27," he says softly. "However, there is a way out. The same way Jarod got out before.

They still haven' found," Sydney recalls in an almost amused tone. "Parker, you take him out that way. I will make sure there's a car waiting for you."

Miss Parker's eyes widen a little. "You want me to get him out? Syd. . .he's not gonna react well to that."

Sydney shakes his head. "He'll have no choice," he says clearly. "He has to go with you. I can't move fast enough, Broots and Angelo have to do their thing with the computers. There's no one else Parker."

Miss Parker swallows hard. "Okay. I just hope he doesn't put up too much a fight until we're outside."

Sydney glances back at the computer monitor. "I doubt he's capable of much verbal protest, let alone physical," he says gravely.

"Is he gonna be okay Syd?" Miss Parker asks in a small voice.

Sydney looks up at her. "His physical injuries - while extensive - should heal fine. Beyond that?" Sydney shakes his head. "I can't say."

Miss Parker nods. "It's up to him." She licks her lips. "When are we doing this?"

Sydney swallows. "Raines has a Sim set up in twenty minutes. Not enough time." Sydney's eyes are pained. "We'll get him as soon as he's finished."

Miss Parker visibly shudders. She puts a hand on Sydney's shoulder. "I'll get him out Syd. I promise. I won't let anything else happen. I've let too much go on."

Sydney takes her hand off his shoulder and squeezes it gently. "Your Mother is proud of you," he says softly. He turns away and walks to Broots and Angelo, looking over what they're doing at the computer.

~~~~~

Dark. Tight. Can't move. Can't breathe. Can't see. Can't hear. Nothing. There's nothing but the darkness, and the fear and the pain. Then there really is nothing. Because I've cut myself off. Because nothing exists. If nothing exists, there's no pain, right? No fear.

I can't breathe. Her hands are on my face again, softly stroking my skin, brushing the hair that has fallen onto my sweaty brow back. I truly cannot get air into my lungs. I don't know if this is part of the Sim, or just a response I'm having to the tight space. I don't like tight spaces. I don't like not being able to move my arms, my legs, or even turn my head. I hate it. Too much pain. Too much.

She's shushing me, quieting me, soothing me. This phantom that isn't real, that exists only in my memory, in my imagination. She is Catherine Parker - her healing, soothing touch that of a mother's. The only mother I'd ever known and I'd only known her for four afternoons out of my entire life. I'd known of her, of course, for much longer. But she'd only come to me those four times - and she was gentle. So gentle. I'd understood my childhood friend's intense pain at losing her - that light, that presence lost from a child's life would be devastating. And her death had cost me my life. And whoever killed her knew that.

The hands move to my shoulder, rubbing it softly. It should hurt, considering how badly injured it is. But it doesn't. For this is my
delusion, my fantasy. And in my delusion there is no pain. There is no fear. There is only her. The her that does not really exist  nywhere but my mind. For she betrayed me. How could she do that? the little lost boy inside me wonders. I feel now that all that is left is that lost, scared little boy. The man with his bravado and fearlessness seems to have deserted me now that I need him most and I'm left, alone and afraid of the dark.

Raines came for me earlier. I didn't move for almost a full minute. One of the Sweepers kicked my broken ribs and it caused me to leap to my feet. I staggered for a moment. Then they shoved me. Vision blurry, completely dizzy I wobbled to the Sim lab. And they put me in. . . here.

I don't know what or where here is, or what I'm supposed to be doing here. I just know that I'm here and I am scared. And completely alone.

Except for her. Her fingers feather over my closed eyelids, her voice comforting and soft, telling me to hold on, that I don't have to survive this much longer. It will be over soon. She promises.  I wonder if she means I will die soon. The thought doesn't alarm me as it should. Instead, it brings me an odd sense of peace, of tranquillity.

It will end. I will die and they will not have the satisfaction of breaking me. I feel the pain in my chest intensify. But no - I am
already broken. She has broken me. With her lie, her betrayal, her complete and total disregard for everything they'd ever  meant to each other.

Complete indifference to his love for her.

The love that consumed him and swallowed him whole even as the pain and the bitterness threatened to destroy him, hollow him from the inside out. Those feelings were things he'd tried to reconcile long ago and failed, instead deciding to simply let them co-exist - figuring one day they would either cancel each other out or one of them would win the battle over control of his emotions.

To his surprise and utter fascination, neither of these scenarios took place. Even after what she'd done to him yesterday - still both emotions remained, strong and steady inside him. But the love. . . . the love was stronger. Not necessarily the foremost emotion at the moment, but definitely stronger.

I want my Mommy.

But she is dead. They have killed her too, taken yet another hope from me and crushed it. I blame them for the loss of *her*. I blame her father and Raines for what they did to her spirit, to her soul, what they did to her when they killed her mother. I hate them for what they did to me. But for what they did to her, I want them dead.

Her voice begins shushing me again, trying to keep me calm. She knows -as I do - if I become too angry my heart will stop inside whatever this machine is. She is keeping me alive. As she has done so many times before. Her lips brush along my eyelids and her fingers gently massage my temples. Soon, she promises.

I whisper her name, its beautiful sound familiar yet totally foreign. I was the only one who ever called her this. The only one she ever allowed to. And I haven't said it in years. Because it was too personal, too painful. I wonder if my lips still remember how to form it. So I say it again, a little louder. And that sound, too, is musical to my ears. I look up into her eyes as she strokes my head more. She is smiling, a smile I have yet to see on her adult face. Yet I know it as well as I know my own.

I swallow, nothing in my mouth to swallow but my throat needing to make the motion anyway. I wish for water, I wish for peace, I wish for her to be real, I wish for my mother, I wish for my brother, I wish to know my answers, I wish for the moon and the stars, I wish for freedom. But more then anything else, I wish for her salvation. I wish for her to know her truth for it is too late for me now. I am as good as dead. I wish for her to find herself again.

Shushing sounds again. She does that whenever I speak of my own inevitable death. As though this delusion, this fantasy of  mine  can't bare to see me go, can't bare to be without me. I suppose if I were to die she would cease to be. But I don't understand how it's possible for her to have free will, given that she is a product of my sometimes over active imagination.

*I love you Jarod.* Her words whisper against the top of my head, and the sound of them is bittersweet. Sweet because they are the words I've longed to hear from her. Bitter because it is not her, it is my imagination and now I know that I will never hear them from the real thing. She will never love me.

I feel the darkness swallowing me once more.

~~~~~

Mr. Parker narrows his eyes at the tube, listening as Jarod whispers a word hoarsely. He leans closer, trying to decipher it. His eyes narrow as Jarod repeats the word, a little louder. Inhaling sharply he turns to Mr. Raines, a distracted look on his face. "You were right," he tells him sternly. "He just confirmed it."

"What did he say?" Raines wheezes.

Mr. Parker's face tightens. "Leslie," he says in a cold voice, turning and walking out of the lab.

~~~~~

Shit, how am I going to do this?

The question mingles with the remaining sounds of Jarod's painful screams and the steely, upset voices of Broots and Sydney in my head. There's no question I *Have* to do this, I do, and it's not a problem that I do. In fact, I want to. But how am I going to?

Walking towards the general area of Jarod's cell, her eyes flash around, taking in every camera, every dark corner, every place to duck into . . . or to watch out for people hiding in. Committing it all to memory, again, she takes final steps towards her destination. Four sweepers stand guard outside his cell.

Such good little goons. Standing guard even when there's nothing and no one to guard. I stare at them, turning things over in my mind. A striking thought pierces my processes. I can get him out . . . and not even have to worry about the sweepers. The remembrance of something Broots had told me, the knock-out gas that doesn't even smell . . . perfect. I back-track my steps. My mind reels again, on other things.

How will I get him out? He's going to fight me. It may be subtle, not much energy put into it, but he's going to fight. He probably hates me. I know he doesn't hate me, hate me, but . . . I've seen the looks in his eyes, I know there's love there. I've never wanted to admit it. To let it in. I don't even know how to accept it. And now, I know the look I'll see, and it's not the one that warms me, that soothes me even when I'm so far gone that nothing can reach me.

He can't possibly know that he does that. That a look from him can calm me enough to keep from losing my head. Hell, I barely know that. Somehow, I have to find a way to let him know I'm sorry, that I never meant to hurt him. His defenses have to be up, he won't trust me again.

I don't expect him to. I just hope he won't fight too much. I pray that he doesn't.

Prayer. When was the last time I prayed? I can barely remember it, when it was serious, heartfelt. After all, as so many people say, I don't even have a heart that feels. It got shut off when . . . someone killed my mother. His father. His father killed my mother. Some might say I can blame him, since I am so good at guilt by association. But I can't, I won't. Not this time. Too much is too important, and for once, blame isn't one of them. So again, I utter a silent prayer to whatever god, whatever supreme puppet master is listening. Not that they should be, I just hope they are.

I get to where I need to, and grab the necessary items. The small tube of metal feels remarkably like a gun in my hand. I'm suddenly not sure I like the feeling. It doesn't matter, but I don't like the disconcertion I feel. Taking the small breathing masks, slipping one under my jacket, the other staying in my hand, I make another trip down towards the small, harsh cell. I find one of those dark corners I had previously staked out. I sneak into it, to sit, to wait. To think, of what, if anything, I can do for him. This jail-break of sorts does nothing to make up for the years of pain I've inflicted, but especially don't touch the last two days.

Can forgiveness find it's way to the surface, just for a moment? I'll never forgive myself, and he shouldn't forgive me, but there's a part of me that hopes he does anyway.

~~~~~

Jarod is stumbling between two Sweepers as they move him back down the hallway to his cell. Mr. Parker had been very disappointed, as well as Mr. Raines. The Sim had not gone as it should. Jarod hadn't fought. He hadn't given it his all. It was like he wasn't even there. One of the Sweepers opens the door and tosses Jarod inside roughly. He hovers over him. "You like your accommodations, Freak?"

"Fuck you," Jarod mumbles brokenly, his cheek against the floor.

The Sweeper kicks him in the ribs, hard. He laughs at him. "No thanks, Genius," he mutters, shutting the door.

Jarod releases a sharp hiss of breath, the pain in his ribs almost unbearable. He feels his mother with him again, his mother and her. His Mother tells him to close his eyes, to relax, and to let himself just go to sleep. Leslie tells him to fight. She tells him to hang on just a little but longer. That it's okay, that soon was almost upon them, and that everything was going to okay.

Jarod fights.

~~~~~

Out in the hallway, Miss Parker watches the Sweepers talking. She moves the small breathing mask in her hand over her face and uncaps the small metal tube, rolling it quietly down the hallway toward them. She watches as one of the Sweepers leans against the wall, a little heavily. The others following suit after a few moments. All four of them hit the floor, unconscious. Moving quickly, she grabs the keys to Jarod's room, opens the door and slips inside before any of the gas can come in.

Jarod forces his head up when the light flashes briefly, then disappears. He can't make out the face of the new person in the room.

"It's me Jarod," Miss Parker whispers.

Jarod narrows his eyes. "Miss Parker," he whispers in a barely audible tone, looking around, realizing both his mother and Leslie had gone.

Miss Parker moves to Jarod's side. She kneels down. "We have to go Jarod. I'm getting you out of here."

Jarod shakes his head, a little confused. "I don't want to go," he murmurs. "No more tests."

"That's not what I meant." She places a hand against his cheek as gently as possible. "I'm getting you out of the Centre."

Jarod looks at her, a little confused. "But you got me back in the Centre," he says in that same low, raspy barely audible voice.

"I know." Miss Parker blinks back tears. "And I'm sorry." She takes a deep breath. "I'll try my best to explain everything later, but we have to go. Broots and Angelo can only keep them distracted for so long."

"I don't understand," Jarod says brokenly, looking around the room from his position on the floor. "I. ." his voice trailed off, lost and scared.

Miss Parker shuts her eyes and she lets out a shaky breath. "I know Jarod. There's a lot you don't understand."

Jarod looks up at her, his eyes clearing, then glazing over again. "Leslie?" he asks, a little hopefully.

Miss Parker smiles, a tiny sad smile. "Yeah Jarod. Come on, we have to go. Can you sit up?"

Jarod smiles a little at her. "Les," he says in awe. "I didn't think I'd ever see you again." His eyes fill with tears. "I missed you."

"I missed you too Jarod." Miss Parker's hand brushes over his forehead gently. "Please. We have to go. Can you please get up?"

Jarod slowly sits up. He reaches out a hand, a little dizzy. "Help me Leslie," he says in a pleading, raspy low tone, barely audible.

Miss Parker takes his hand and squeezes it gently. "Okay." As carefully as she can, she wraps her arm around his waist. "Come on."

Jarod slowly gets to his feet, staggering and wincing at the pain shooting through his body. He swallows deeply, the effort grating on his parched throat. He turns his head a little, looking into her eyes. "My Angel," he murmurs. "My Angel come to save me."

Miss Parker swallows back a sob. She reaches into her pocket and pulls out the other breathing mask. She hands it to him. "You need to breathe through this so that you don't pass out out there," she says in a shaky tone.

Jarod nods, putting on the mask. Miss Parker puts her mask back on and opens the door, helping him walk out. The two of them walk quickly, stumbling only slightly when Jarod loses his footing down to SL27. Jarod takes a deep breath, pulling his mask off. "I don't know if I can make it," he says in a barely audible voice, his chest wound starting to bleed more.

Miss Parker takes off her mask and pockets both of them. "You have to Jarod. Just a little further. And we're out of here."

Jarod's breathing is heavy and labored, but he nods. "Let's go."

Miss Parker nods and helps him move across the room to the small patch of wall that has been worn away as a result of the fire. She sighs a little and braces one of her arms against the wall, lifting a foot and kicking at the vulnerable parts of the wall. She kicks it again, harder, pieces in the middle starting to crumble. She lets out a small groan and kicks the wall again, as hard as she can. The wall falls away in the middle, big enough for her and Jarod to crawl through it. She looks over at Jarod. "Do you want me to go first, or can you?"

Jarod swallows deeply. "You're gonna have to go first," he says in his barely audible voice. "You're gonna need to pull me through."

Miss Parker swallows hard. "Okay." She crawls through the hole, turns around, reaching a hand out for Jarod. "Come on."

Jarod places his hand in hers and allows her to pull him through the hole. He stumbles a little and falls to the ground outside the structure of SL27. He lands on his knees and groans, rolling onto his back.

Miss Parker sucks in a breath. She kneels down next to him. "You okay?"

Jarod takes a few deep breaths. "Fine," he grits out. He looks up at her. "Why are you doing this?" he asks in a completely baffled tone.

Miss Parker sighs. "Cause I screwed up and you don't belong here. And I'm trying to make up for everything that I've done wrong." She sighs. "And those are all excuses. I can't put it into words Jarod. I just am."

Jarod nods once, slowly. "We'll talk later," he manages to get out."After I've had food and water and rest."

Miss Parker nods. "Yes we will."

They slowly make their way up the Sub Levels of the Centre. Breaking through to air, and open ground, they slide through a window and drop down to the dark ground below. Jarod clutches his ribs, breathing shallowly.

Miss Parker nods her head towards the side of the yard. "Syd's over there. He's waiting for us."

Jarod nods, blinking back tears of unbearable pain he hadn't allowed himself to feel until just now. "I need your help one more time," he murmurs.

Miss Parker nods, wrapping her arm back around his waist. "Anytime you need it Jarod."

Jarod chuckles as best he can with his parched throat. "Careful what you offer," he croaks out. "I may take you up on it."

"I'm sure you will." Miss Parker takes a deep breath and starts helping him over to where Sydney is waiting.

Sydney's eyes fasten on them and he hurries over to Jarod's other side, supporting his weight along with her, both of them practically carrying Jarod to the car. Sydney helps her lay him down in the back seat, then closes the door behind him. "Parker," he says urgently, "you have to go. Now."

Miss Parker stares at him, completely paralyzed. Sydney snaps his fingers sharply in front of her. "Parker. Now," he almost yells.

Miss Parker blinks hard a couple times. "Where?" she asks helplessly.

Sydney places a consoling hand on her shoulder. "Think Parker. I don't now where to send you. You have to go where you'll both be safe."

Miss Parker nods a little. "Okay. I'll think of something."

Sydney leans forward and places a kiss against her cheek. "Safe journey Leslie," he whispers throatily. He looks her in the eye. "Keep each other safe." He places his hand against her cheek once, then turns, hurrying back to the Centre where an alarm has just gone off.

Miss Parker watches him for a moment. She shakes her head violently and turns, getting in the car. She glances back at Jarod. "Just a few more minutes, and we'll be somewhere you can rest." She turns the car on and drives away quickly.

~~~~~

The ghosts in my mind and heart have faded, yet one still remains. She  drives hell bent down the roads. My Leslie, my phantom, my delusion. But she is not. She is real, and she has risked her life - given her life - to save mine. Is she real? Or is this an extension of the delusion I have been fading in and out of for the last two days?

I still remember the moment she arrived. Lying on the floor in complete agony. Leslie whispering to me to hold on, it would be okay soon. And then she was gone, and Miss Parker was there. But she wasn't Miss Parker. Not anymore. Not like she had been two days before. She was a  voice, on the other end of the phone, alerting me to the Centre's latest acquisition. She was the face of a woman defending a teenage girl during a bank robbery when her own father didn't have the courage to. She was a
small child, wandering aimlessly through the Centre labs so that she could hold the bunnies. She was my Leslie. Catherine's little girl.

You did it Catherine. We did it. We kept her alive enough to fight back against him. Thank you.

Do you ever think of me Les? The way I think of you? Do you ever imagine that I love you as much as you love me? Or do you merely see me as one more wrong deed to be put right? I do not think I could bear the knowledge that that's all I am to you. A cause. A redemption. A wrong to put right. Makes me sound like a fucking Humpback whale. Is that all I am to you Leslie? Do you realize how much I love you? Can you even fathom the depth?

Even as I consider this I wonder at why she's truly helping me. She betrayed me. Or so I thought. I am finding that perhaps I was wrong. Perhaps she has not thrown me to the wolves, as I had thought, but instead led the wolves to believe I was their dessert to buy more time. Kept them at bay so she could rescue me. If she had truly meant me to be at the Centre, that's where I would remain now. Crouched in my little cell, starving, thirsty and broken. The knowledge that she might not have given me up to them willingly helps to heal the shattered pieces of my soul. Perhaps there is hope. While I don't dare believe she loves me
back, perhaps she no longer hates me for things that are not my fault, nor my wish. She had, after all, risked her life to get me  ut of there.

She is my Angel. My hero. If only for now. Even if she takes it all back - even if she isn't real - this fantasy, this delusion was far  superior to the nightmarish hell I had been living. I opens my tired eyes and lift my head, staring at the back of hers. She runs her fingers through her hair and turns the wheel, making a sharp turn yet keeping the car steady enough so as not to jostle me. A thoughtful gesture. So simple, it almost isn't worth making note of. Almost. For it gives more away about who she is - who's voice she truly listens to inside herself, who's guiding light truly does shine inside her - then anything else ever could.

Leslie. Catherine's daughter. My best friend.

My Leslie.

~~~~~

Miss Parker carefully helps Jarod out of the car and they hobble together into the cheap motel by the side of the road she'd finally relented to pull over to only after they'd driven almost two hundred miles away from the Centre in a little under three hours. They make their way to the room she'd rented, all the while trying to ignore the odd looks the motel manager had given them both. She lays him gently on the bed and hurries into the bathroom grabbing the small first aid kit the manager had assured her would be there.

"Leslie," he murmurs to no one in particular, wincing against a sudden shooting pain through his ribs.

Miss Parker moves back to sit on the edge of the bed next to Jarod. "I'm right here."

Jarod blinks his eyes a few times. "It hurts," he says in a small, tired voice laced with pain.

"I know it does Jarod." She opens the first aid kit and rifles around, taking out bandages and iodine.

Jarod eyes the iodine warily, and swallows. "You need to pay careful attention to my chest wound and my ribs," he croaks out. "Everything else is secondary."

Miss Parker takes a deep breath and nods. She reaches back into the first aid kit and pulls out a small pair of scissors, gently cutting away his shirt. "You're gonna have to walk me through this."

"My pleasure, my Dear Miss Parker," he murmurs. "First, take out the cotton swabs from the first aid kit. You're going to have to pour the iodine on them and sweep them over the wound on my chest." He winces at the thought.

Miss Parker nods and follows his instructions. She tentatively brings a shaky hand up to his chest, the cotton swab between her fingers. She looks into his eyes as she gently sweeps the swab over the cut on his chest. Jarod sucks in a sharp breath and his eyes shut. One of his handscurls around the bed covers, his entire body wincing. Miss Parker shudders a little and continues cleaning the wound. "I'm sorry Jarod," she whispers. "I'm so sorry."

Jarod shakes his head once. "Don't be," he murmurs a bit unsteadily. "You're saving my life." He swallows deeply and glances his head toward the bandages. "You need to cut a few strips of gauze and take the surgical tape. Make a patch that will fit over the wound." He coughs a little. "I probably need stitches," he grits out, "but they can wait. You just have to stop the bleeding."

Miss Parker reaches for the gauze and does as he told her to. Her hands continue shaking as she bandages the wound on his chest, as gently as she can. Jarod's eyes shut and he leans back, unconcerned at the moment with what she was doing. When he feels her hands leave him, he opens his eyes slowly, looking into hers. "Now you have to wrap my ribs," he says softly.

He braces his hands behind him and slowly, painfully sits up. "Take the Ace bandage and wrap it all the way around my torso as many times as you can. Tight, but not tight enough to do more damage."
Miss Parker shuts her eyes for a moment, licking her lips. "You'll have to tell me if it's too tight," she murmurs, picking up the  ace bandage. "Or not tight enough."

Jarod smiles softly at her. "Don't worry Leslie," he murmurs, "I will."

Miss Parker starts trying to wrap his ribs, but her hands are shaking too much and she drops the Ace bandage once. Jarod picks up her hands and holds them tightly in his. He forces her to look at him. "You can do this," he tells her in a scratchy voice. "I know you can. I need you Leslie."

Miss Parker takes a deep breath and picks the Ace bandage back up again. She steadies her hands as much as she can and starts wrapping the bandage around his chest. Jarod winces a little. "Too tight," he murmurs.

She nods and unwinds the bandage, wrapping it back around his chest looser. Jarod smiles softly. "Just right Miss Parker," he murmurs.

Miss Parker nods slowly as she finishes wrapping the bandage around his chest and fastens it. She leans back a little and focuses her eyes on his. "Can I get you anything?"

"Water," he murmurs softly. "And maybe something to eat. Some fruit." His eyes widen a little. "Orange juice."

Miss Parker nods, standing up. She goes into the bathroom and fills both of the glasses with water. She brings them back to Jarod and puts them on the night stand next to him. Jarod falls back against the pillows and grabs for one of the glasses. He downs it in one gulp, not caring how much the contact of the glass against his lips hurt them. He immediately grabs for the other glass, drinking it a little slower, but still downing it in less then three gulps. He looks back up at her, panting a little, licking his lips. "Could I please have some more?" he asks softly.

Miss Parker nods. She picks up both glasses and goes into the bathroom, filling them both up with water. She heads back to him, putting one glass down on the night stand, handing him the other. "Drink a little slower Jarod."

Jarod nods, knowing she's right, but still unable to keep himself from downing it in more then six drinks. He picks up the other glass and drinks it down, this time taking eight drinks. He looks up at her. "Two days without water," he murmurs, "is something I don't want to experience again."

"I know. I don't want you to." She smiles a little shakily. "I'll fill those back up again, and then I'm gonna go get you some juice. There's a vending machine not far. Will you be okay?"  Jarod nods his head slowly. "Yeah. I'll be fine Leslie," he says softly.
"Just. . . hurry back."

Miss Parker picks up the glasses, carrying them into the bathroom and filling them up again. She sets them down on the night stand. "I'll be right back. Try and not finish both of those before I get back."

Jarod nods slowly and picks one of them up, sipping it. "Anything you say Miss Parker," he murmurs. "Anything you say."

Miss Parker cringes a little. "I'll be back in a minute." She grabs the room key and walks out quickly.

~~~~~

He's asleep. Finally. I didn't think he'd ever get enough water. Or enough air. But I suppose the sheer exhaustion kicked in. He's lying on the bed, his head on three pillows, his wounds wrapped as best I could manage, my hands were shaking so much. He's faded in and out of calling me Miss Parker, in a scared tone, and calling me Leslie in a happy one. I wish that one would stay. I don't deserve it, I don't think he'll do it now, but I want it.

He looks . . . peaceful. He's such a beautiful man, even beaten like this. Mostly it's inside. His soul is beautiful. I'll never forget
someone asking me once to describe a person, to sum up everything important in words. I had the hardest time doing it. But Jarod . . . he's easy.

He's seriously fucked up. Those will always be the first words out of my mouth about him. He's fucked up. But he's so loving. He's mature, and child-like. He's got a heart of gold, that's got a bit of tarnish, nothing that he can control. He's smart, and naïve. Jarod is a walking contradiction. But he's beautiful. I almost wish the girls who laughed at me when I tried to do that before were here, they'd be surprised by how much my vocabulary has grown, dealing with him. They wouldn't laugh
now.

But they'd be horrified. They'd see what was done to him, realize I had a hand in it, and they'd be horrified. They'd look at me, pretty much how I look at myself. As a cold, heartless bitch who really doesn't care who she steps on to get what she wants. Or how hard she steps. But if that's the truth, why am I here? Why am I sitting in this chair, as to not disturb the sleeping man on the bed, and making sure he's okay? Maybe I want him. In some way I haven't tapped into. After all, can a selfish girl like myself change that easily?

Oh sure, it wasn't easy. But it was fast. I hadn't completely given up the idea of bringing him back until about a week ago. And then I finally did, only to lock him up. Irony. I get clue at the same time I have everything I've been wanting handed to me. One way ticket out of the Centre, Daddy and Raines out of my hair, freedom. That freedom he always spoke of, I had it. And I didn't want it. Not at that price. So here I am, sitting in a hotel room in the middle of nowhere, watching him sleep, making sure I'm awake to soothe his nightmares. Nightmares I know he'll have.

What about mine? They hit almost every time I close my eyes now. Does it matter? Do I have a right to have someone be there, wake me up, tell me it'll be all right? Probably not. But god, I want it. I want so much I don't have the right to, but more than anything, I want someone to just tell me everything will be okay, that everything will get better. And someone who will mean it, and work to make it happen. I'll do my damnedest to make that reality for him. But do I get it too?

The sound of his breathing is calming to me. I would be so tense, so upset, if he wasn't five feet away, and breathing. It's almost a lifeline.

His eyes flutter, the shut again. I hope he's not dreaming and keeping it completely inside. I don't want him to withdraw again. Not more. He's so far gone as it is, and it's not that far. A small voice in my head, one that sounds like my mother, keeps telling me that I should stop blaming myself, that it's not all my fault. And I want to believe her. But it's coming from her, and not from him. So I'm back to square one.

The rhythm of his breathing could lull me to sleep. But I won't let it. I don't need sleep, I need to take care of him. I owe him that much, and so much more.

~~~~~

Jarod thrashes his arm against the side of the bed, injuring it, but too far into his nightmare to feel it. He moans softly and rolls his head back and forth on the pillows. Miss Parker gets up from the chair she's been sitting in and walks over to the edge of the bed. She places a hand against his cheek. "Jarod. Wake up."

Jarod's eyes fly open and he darts them around the room. He takes in the light, the space he has to move and her hand against his cheek. His breathing is shallow and uneven. He blinks a few times, fully removing himself from the dream. "Leslie," he whispers unsurely.

She nods, moving her other hand up to her other cheek. "Yeah Jarod."

Jarod shuts his eyes tightly, a few tears seeping out the corners. "Why did you put me in that room?" he asks in a broken voice. "I know you had a reason. . . . please just tell me what it was."

Miss Parker moves her hands, brushing away his tears. She takes a couple of deep breaths. "I couldn't. . ." she licks her lips. "I couldn't let them shoot you in the back. And they would've."

Jarod nods his head slowly, understanding. He brings a hand up to her cheek. "Thank you," he whispers hoarsely, "for saving my life."

Miss Parker shuts her eyes and swallows deeply. "It probably wasn't the best decision in retrospect. I should've done something else, but it was all I could think of at the time. I'm so sorry."

Jarod licks his lips. "Hindsight is always twenty-twenty," he reminds her gently. "I am alive. And I'm free. I couldn't ask for more." He swallows and looks at her carefully. "Was what you told me true?" heasks shakily. "Is she really dead?"

Miss Parker nods. "Yes."

Jarod's lower lip trembles and a few more tears leaks out of his eyes. "Who. . . When. .. ." he shakes his head helplessly. "Why?"

Miss Parker shakes her head a little. "I don't know. I can only guess that she got too close and someone didn't think that was a good idea. I don't know who, and I don't know why."

Jarod's entire face crumples. "I never got to see her again," he says brokenly. "We made eye contact for maybe. . . a minute. . .   saw my
sister. . . .and then she was gone again." He looks up at her, his eyes overflowing with tears and sadness. "They stole me from her when I was six, and now they've stolen her from me before I could even find her again. Why can't they leave me alone? Why Leslie?"

Miss Parker leans down and kisses his forehead softly. "I don't know Jarod," she whispers, heartbrokenly. "But they will now. I promise you."

Jarod shakes his head. "They won't leave me alone," he says bitterly. "They'll never leave me alone."

Miss Parker sighs. She runs her hand over his forehead softly. "They may not leave you alone in here, but I'm not letting them get you again. I'm not letting them get close enough to think about it."

Jarod shuts his eyes and takes a few deep breaths, letting her touch soothe him. He swallows. "Do you intend to spend the rest of your life keeping them away?" he asks her softly. "Because I can't see you giving up your freedom so you can stop them from chasing me. It's not worth it, because they'll never stop. And one day they'll get too close again. And I'll either be able to evade them, or I won't. And if they put me back in there, I'll get out, or I'll die." He looks into her eyes. "And until that happens, I'll help as many people as I can, and I'll continue trying to find out their secrets - my secrets - so I can expose them for what they are."

"Our secrets Jarod," Miss Parker mutters softly. "And if I have to, yes, I will spend the rest of my life keeping them away from you."

Jarod looks at her carefully. "Are you planning on coming with me?" he asks her softly. "Traveling around to all the odd little places I go to, helping me make the lives of the downtrodden a little better?"

Miss Parker shrugs a shoulder. "If you'll let me."

"Are you serious?" he asks her in a carefully neutral tone.

Miss Parker leans her head down again and presses the softest of kisses against his lips. She lifts her head enough to look him in the eye. "Yes I am."

Jarod takes a deep breath, staring at her back in the eye. He moves his hand up to the back of her head and pulls it down again, placing an equally soft kiss to her mouth. He pulls away from her slightly. "To the ends of the earth and back," he warns her softly, whispering.

She nods a little, her lower lip brushing against his. "I wouldn't expect any less."

"I wish I had the energy to really kiss you," he murmurs softly. "I wish I didn't hurt this badly."

Miss Parker kisses him again softly and she moves a little and slides into the bed behind him. "I wish you didn't too. But I'll still be here when you're feeling better. You need to rest Jarod."

Jarod curls his good arm around her waist and lays his head against her breast. He shuts his eyes. "Please don't leave me alone Leslie," he pleads with her softly, sleepily.

Miss Parker runs a hand up, brushing his hair back from his forehead. "I'm not going anywhere."

~~~~~

Jarod blinks his eyes open slowly, looking around the room only unaware of where he was for a moment this time. He moves his cheek against Miss Parker's chest. His arm automatically tightens around her waist slightly. He stays still, not wanting to break the spell, afraid maybe he dreamed what happened hours ago. The fingers of Miss Parker's hand move a little in his hair. "You awake?" she asks him softly.

Jarod mumbles against her breast softly. "A little bit."

Miss Parker nods and kisses the top of his head. "I figured as much."

Jarod sighs deeply. "Once I can move on my own," he begins softly, "what are we going to do?"

Miss Parker shrugs a little. "I was kind of hoping you had a suggestion or two."

Jarod moves his head a little. "I have no idea at the moment," he mutters softly. "But now that I know it's my responsibility, I'll work on it."

Miss Parker shakes her head a little. "It's not your responsibility. I just want your input. I can come up with something if you can't."

"Got it," Jarod pronounces softly. "We'll drive down to Mexico - I've got a friend at the border who'll let us in with no passports, nothing official. We can stay down there for a few days, then drive back into the US on the West Coast."

Miss Parker smiles a little. "So you want to complete the fugitive concept and leave the country."

Jarod shrugs. "Two Lovers on the run?" he asks, raising an eyebrow, then wincing when it hurts the cut above it.

Miss Parker leans down and kisses the cut gently. "I don't think we qualify quite yet," she murmurs softly.

Jarod shakes his head a little. "I disagree," he murmurs equally softly. "I think we've been lovers since before we knew the meaning of the word."

Miss Parker smiles gently. "You may be right."

Jarod looks at her a bit oddly. "I've never told you," he murmurs softly. "I've never told you because I didn't think you'd be
responsive." He sighs. "I'm sorry about that Les."

Miss Parker shuts her eyes and smiles a little. "You know what Jarod? I know. You don't have to say anything, unless you really want to."

Jarod moves his head a little, placing a soft kiss just below her ear. "I really want to," he whispers. "I love you Leslie." He presses his lips against her ear lobe again. "I have always loved you, I will always love you."

Miss Parker's arms tighten around his body a little. "I know you do Jarod."

He shuts his eyes and lays his head back against her shoulder. "Thank you so much for letting me say it without rejection or ridicule," he murmurs. "I've needed to tell you for a long time."

Miss Parker nods. She kisses the top of his head softly. "I don't think I could reject you right now, even if I tried."

"You never were the type to kick a man while he was down," Jarod mumbles in a wry tone.

Miss Parker smiles a little sadly. "No, but I usually put 'em down in the first place."

Jarod kisses her jaw softly. "Go to sleep Leslie," he murmurs. "You didn't all night."

She shakes her head. "I'd rather not."

Jarod sighs. "All right then. I'll go to sleep. You just stay here with me, okay?"

Miss Parker nods. "I like watching you sleep anyway. It's more restful."

Jarod laughs a little, already starting to drift back out. "That's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me," he murmurs sleepily.

Miss Parker kisses his forehead again. "Sweet dreams Jarod."

Jarod's only response is a light, snoring sound.

~~~~~

I did it. I told her I loved her. And she didn't laugh, or mock, or tease. She'd just whispered that she knew.

She knew.

My breathing remains deep and even. She knows I'm not asleep. But still she holds me. I have needed this for so long - longer then I was willing to admit to myself before. I've needed to rest and heal in the comfort of her embrace.

My mind wanders to a romance novel I wrote for her - about her - once upon a time. I had called her the saddest little Valentine. And I realize now, even as I spoke of her, I was referring to myself as well. Because I was very sad without her. As a child she was my only joy. As an adult, she's become a constant challenge - the need to make her see how truly wonderful she could be if she'd just listen to that little voice inside of her - her mother's voice - and help her heart grow.

And now she had. And my challenge is gone. But I have an even greater joy now. I love her. I am in love with her. Soul searing, heart shattering mind bending life altering would die for her love. She said she knows. I doubt she truly does. I doubt she comprehends exactly how much I do love her. I barely understand it myself. She is everything. My air, my water, my life. She did save me - but she did it so long ago. She saved me when I was a child. She gave me the human contact I so desperately needed. She saved my soul before she lost hers. Before they stole hers.

She did not tell me she loved me back. I did not expect her to, and truly I would've been surprised if she'd said it back. It is not in her nature to do so. Not yet, at least. She is so scared, and so confused, and so utterly lost right now. I hope I can help her find the way home. I hope she realizes her home is with me, just as mine is with her. Wherever we may be. I hope I can love her the way she deserves. I hope she can help to heal the wounds I can't see, as well as the ones I can. I hope she will help me find my sister. I hope. . . .

I freeze, realizing I have not told her something. Something imperative, something that she'll want - that she'll need - to know. I hold in my mind her truth - the answers that will serve as a balm and a re-opening for her own wounds. My news will bring her both relief and worry, sadness and joy. I can feel the reactions playing inside her as if they were my own. Anger. Betrayal. Gratitude. Immense happiness. Confusion. Life. These are the emotions of life. And she gets to feel them. I get to feel them. We get to feel them together. And they can't stop us. Because they don't own us. No matter what happens they can't take this
from us.

I snuggle my face into the crook of her neck, my arms still holding her tightly around the waist. She tightens her hold around me. I decide what I need to tell her can wait for awhile. A few more hours of peace. I will not let their lies, their deceptions take this perfect moment of peace from us.

We are free.

~~~~~~

He said it. I guess it shouldn't surprise me, I know it's how he feels, and he's always been honest, in some way or another. But hearing the words . . . wow.

I was right, when I figured that in some untapped facet of my head, I want him. Those tentative kisses left me with more desire running through me than the most passionate moments I've experienced so far. Was I just delirious when I said I'd go with him? No, the kisses hadn't happened yet. That was what spun my head. I hate feeling this out of control - but I'm craving the thing that leads to it.

He's not asleep. I know that. The sound of his breathing isn't quite relaxed enough. And his nuzzling into me is kind of obvious. Oh well, he needs to rest, and I'll bet money he doesn't have any better luck with restful sleep than I do. So I let him rest. It's so hard not to gather him into my arms more, to hold him tightly to my body. But I know it'll hurt him right now, so I settle for tightening my arms a little. It'll be better for both of us if we don't do this. That won't work though. I have to kiss him, and hold him, and feel his skin against mine. It's a need, it is dangerously close to becoming a fundamental in my life. I can almost guarantee that once I let myself get swept away once . . . I'll be gone forever.

What about love? This small voice asks in the back of my head. What about it? Do I love him? I don't know. I don't remember how to love. It's been so long . . . since her death. What is love anyway? I know what it means to him. What it means to  Sydney. What it meant to my mom. But to me? I just don't know. Maybe I'll learn with him. Or even better, remember. I hope so, because this emptiness that hits me when I think about it . . . I want it gone. I want it filled with something else.

When did my hands take on a life of their own? I just realized that one of them is stroking his hair, and the other is trailing up and down his back. It feels so good to touch him, to know he's letting me. He could stop me so easily, and it would . . . shit, it would break me. I broke his spirit, I would deserve for mine to be squashed by him. it would be fitting.

So much could go so wrong, so easily. And right now, it would be the final straw, it would be the ultimate thing to destroy me. So simple, a couple of well-placed words, a movement of his hand, stopping mine (which slides lower on his back), and all the things I've tried to lay to rest, that I've tried to make leave the forefront of my reality, would suddenly be there, stronger and more harsh than ever. He could do that, he could break me, everything in me, so easily. And I wouldn't blame him in the least if he did. But I know Jarod, and I know he won't.

So I move my hands back to his shoulders, re-tighten my arms, and lean my cheek against his hair.

We both need to rest so much. And so we finally try, together.

~~~~~

Jarod opens his eyes fully, waking and turning over, groaning loudly as pain rips through his ribs, the rest of his body protesting to his movement as well. Miss Parker opens her eyes and looks at Jarod. "You okay?"

Jarod shuts his eyes on a wave of pain and nods once, jerkily. "Fine," he manages to get out. "Or will be."

Miss Parker nods. "Yeah, that last one." She smiles gently. "Can I get you anything?"

Jarod shakes his head a little. "Not that I can think of," he murmurs.

Miss Parker nods a little. "Okay. . . . So now what?"

Jarod forces his tired head up to look her in the eye. "That," he says slowly, "is entirely up to you."

Miss Parker's eyes widen a little. "You're trusting me to think of what's next?"

Jarod nods. "Why not? I trust you with my life. I might as well trust you with my peace of mind. With my heart."

Miss Parker's eyes shut for a minute. She opens them and looks at him carefully. "Are you sure you want to do that? Your life's a lot safe in my hands then your heart is."

Jarod forces himself to sit up and takes one of her hands in his. He places his index finger in the center of her palm. "It has nothing to do with being sure," Jarod tells her seriously, looking into her eyes. "You hold my heart right here," he applies pressure to her palm. "And there isn't a damn thing I can do about it." He shakes his head a little. "I don't *want* to do anything about it."

Miss Parker blinks hard a couple times, a single tear running down her cheek. "Do you have any idea what hearing that does to me?"

Jarod shakes his head a little. "I wish I did," he murmurs softly. "I know what it does to me to say it." He smiles a little. "It makes my heart a little lighter. And it gives my whole being a little joy." He brings the hand not holding hers up to her cheek, running his knuckles down the side of her face feather light. "Loving you heals me," he whispers.

Miss Parker leans her head forward a little, resting her forehead on his. She takes his hand and moves it up to her chest, pressing it against her heart. "Hearing you say those things." She licks her lips. "Makes me remember that I have a heart. It's so easy to forget sometimes."

Jarod leaves his hand over her heart and releases her hand, bringing his  other around her back. He holds her to him gently. "I'll never let you forget Leslie," he whispers solemnly. "If you ever wonder if you have a heart. . . just come to me. . . tell me. I'll prove to you that you do."

He kisses the tip of her nose. "You have such a beautiful heart," he whispers. "It shines at me and it lights my way when I'm lost in the dark."

Miss Parker gently wraps her arms around Jarod's shoulders. She leans her head back a little and kisses his forehead. "Definitely going to need you to remind me of that."

Jarod moves his hand from her heart, wrapping it around her waist and placing his lips over her heart. He kisses her softly there. "That's what I'm here for," he whispers against her softly. "Whatever you need, whenever you need it."

"That could be dangerous Jarod." Miss Parker smiles a little watery. "You may find that to be too time consuming."

Jarod kisses her cheek softly. "I can spare you 24 hours. ... 7 days a week. . . . .52 weeks a year. . . . maybe. .. . 40 years. . . .but that's about all I can offer." He moves his lips to her jaw and kisses it softly. He leans his cheek against hers, kissing the skin just below her ear softly. "I want to be consumed by you," he whispers into her ear.

Miss Parker bites her lower lip. She runs her hand down his back, and back up to his hair. "We'll have to see what we can do about that," she murmurs. "We'll probably have to wait until you feel a little better though."

Jarod runs one of his hands up her back, to her shoulder, then around to her face, cupping her cheek softly, then running his hand into her hair, holding the side of her head. "You realize when I say I want to be consumed by you I'm not referring to sex." He looks at her carefully. "Yes, I want to make love to you. But I also just want to be with you. Lying with you here all night gave me better rest then hours of sleep could. You re-invigorate me. You re-vitalize and fill me with everything I could ever need. I am consumed by you every time you breathe in my presence."

Miss Parker shuts her eyes tightly, blocking tears. Jarod leans up and kisses her closed eyelids gently, brushing his lips over them feather soft. "You don't have to hide anything from me," he whispers in a low, tearful tone. "I want your laughter and your tears. I want your joy and your sorrow. I want everything you are, and I want to give you everything I am in return." He places his lips against her forehead. "Everything," he whispers softly.

Miss Parker opens her eyes, a few tears falling onto her cheeks. "Then I won't hide them." She takes a couple deep breaths. "I don't know how easy or hard it's gonna be, but I won't."

Jarod moves both his hands around her back, running them up to just below either shoulder blade. He pulls her to him and holds her, resting his cheek against hers. "I believe in you Leslie, he whispers into her ear. "I believe that you can do anything."

"I'm glad you're confident of that." A few more tears flow down her cheeks. "Because I'm not."

"Then I'll be your confidence until we build up yours." He kisses her ear lobe. "I'll believe until you remember how again. I'll believe in you until you can believe in yourself. And then I'll still believe in you. You just won't need me to."

Miss Parker takes a deep breath. "No matter what Jarod, I will always need you to believe in me."

Jarod squeezes her tightly, then loosens his hold. He pulls his head to look at her. "I need you to change my bandage," he says softly.

Miss Parker nods slowly. "I was just about to ask if you needed that." She smiles a little. "You have to let me go first."

"I'll never let you go Leslie," he whispers, slowly laying down on the bed and releasing her.

Miss Parker leans over the side of the bed and picks up the first aid kit. She gently takes the old bandage off and reaches for the iodine. She bites her lower lip and looks him in the eye. "Is there any way I can not use this?"

Jarod smiles a little pained smile at her. "Afraid not Sweetheart," he murmurs. "The iodine is unfortunately helping this heal."

Miss Parker nods and takes a cotton ball covered in iodine, dabbing gently at the wound. She quickly bandages it and leans her head down, placing a soft kiss on top of the bandage. "All done." She lifts her head. "How are your ribs?"

Jarod swallows. "Sore," he says tightly. "You haven't gotten a look at my back yet, have you?" he hedges warily. "You wrapped the ace bandage around in the dark and. .. haven't seen it yet."

Miss Parker shakes her head. "How bad is it?"

Jarod takes a breath. "Bad," he says simply. "I need you to unwrap my ribs and rub some liniment on my back," he tells her softly. "I don't want you to see this. But I have no choice. I'm in too much pain," he says, his voice breaking slightly.

Miss Parker nods her head a little stiffly. "I didn't make it worse during the night, did I?"

Jarod shakes his head. "No," he whispers. "You were rubbing my back very gently and it helped to soothe it." He takes a deep breath. "But you stopped. And. . ." he takes another sharp breath. "And now it's hurting. Badly."

Miss Parker moves her hands to the Ace bandage and slowly unwraps it. Jarod looks her in the eye, then closes his eyes, sighing and turning away from her, lying on his stomach carefully. His back, from his left shoulder down in an ugly, curving line to his right hip was black and purple, tinged with yellow. A large gash rests on his right shoulder blade, the wound already closing up. It wasn't deep, just ugly looking. There are a series of small lashes along the middle and lower parts of his back from where they'd used a small whip. A small dark bruise colors the spot just below his neck. Miss Parker sucks in a sharp breath. "Oh
God Jarod."

"They're not as bad as they look," Jarod tells her softly, his face buried in the pillow. "I really didn't want you to see them," he tells her in a sincere whisper.

"I know you didn't." She reaches for a small bottle of liniment and rubs some into her hands. She very softly runs her hands over his back.

Jarod tenses, shutting his eyes tightly into the pillow and digging his fingers into the sheets, squeezing as hard as he can. Miss Parker continues soothing his back. "How bad is it really Jarod?"

"It feels like fire," he murmurs into the pillow, tears lacing his voice. "It feels like they set me on fire."

Miss Parker runs her hands over his back a final time and reaches back for the iodine and some more bandages. She shuts her eyes for a moment. "God I don't want to hurt you anymore, but I have to deal with this cut."

Jarod nods his head once into the pillow. He doesn't speak. He fists the sheets tighter still in his hands and he grits his teeth, willing himself not to cry out. As quickly as she can, Miss Parker bathes the wound on his back with iodine and bandages it. She lays down next to him, running one arm over his lower back, her hand wrapping around his. She lays her head next to his and kisses his ear gently. "I'm so sorry," she murmurs.

Jarod turns his face to hers for a moment. A few tears are smudged around his eyes. "You have nothing to be sorry for," he whispers. He squeezes her hand in his for punctuation and turns his head again, laying it face down into the pillow.

"Don't do that." Miss Parker kisses his temple gently. "Don't hide from me Jarod."

Jarod slowly turns his head back toward her. "If I don't hide, I'm going to lose it again and I'm gonna go back there and. . ." he sucks in a breath. "You may not be able to reach me for awhile."

Miss Parker brings her hand up to his cheek. "Is it better for you to go through this alone?"

Jarod looks into her eyes. "I don't know," he whispers in a lost tone. "I've never had anyone to go through it with. Alone is the only way I've ever known."

Miss Parker nods slowly. "Okay. What would you prefer? Dealing with this alone, or letting me help?"

Jarod's lower lip trembles and he takes a deep breath, then exhales it on a sob. He rolls a little and wraps one arm around her waist, his head landing in the crook of her neck. He tightens his arm around her waist,his other hand still held in hers. He cries softly.

Miss Parker brings her free hand up to the back of his head, her fingers running through his hair gently. She leans her forehead down on top of his head. "That's it Jarod. Just let it out. You're safe in my arms."

The soft cries turn into deep, gut wrenching sobs. His entire body heaves against her and his arm tightens almost painfully around her waist. Miss Parker continues whispering soothing nonsense to him. After a few minutes, Jarod quiets and simply lies still against her, spent and his entire body aching along with his mind and his soul. Miss Parker kisses the top of his head. She leans her head back a little and looks at him. "Is that any better?"

Jarod clutches her with his arm, his face buried in her neck. "I love you Leslie," he whispers in the small voice of a lost little boy. "I love you."

Miss Parker swallows and kisses the top of his head again. "I know you do baby."

~~~~~

The fire burns inside me.

My back hurts, yes. Frankly it's in endless agony. But it is the fire burning inside me that threatens to destroy my soul. The mental and emotional torture. The beatings were bad. They were painful. But it was worse being locked up in that little room, left alone for two days. That was what will leave the most lasting damage. I know that. The nightmares. They don't compare to the waking dreams. The sudden jarring, horrifying images that hit you while you watch a child fall off a set of monkey bars or a woman crying on a park bench.

They will hit me when I least expect it and I will have no say as to how hard.

My face is buried in the crook of her neck, my arm still wrapped tightly around her. She is still stroking my back, soothing it, soothing me as though I were a small child and she was my mother. I do not remember ever having a mother, but I imagine it to feel somewhat like this -safe, secure, warm. Peaceful. Except there are emotions I have toward her that no child should ever feel for his mother. Desire, raw and pure.  Want. Need. Love. The most ferocious love I have ever known in my life.

And the funny thing is, it doesn't even matter to me if she loves me back.

The way she holds me like this - I could accept that she will never love me back. As long as she doesn't leave me. I think perhaps that is selfish of me. Doesn't she deserve to love someone? But I don't care right now. I feel selfish at the moment. And all I want is for her to hold me - to keep this feeling I have when I'm with her wrapped around me - forever.

It's funny. Even as I feel it from the very depths of my soul that she does love me back - I still doubt. Because just as deeply down - if not deeper - I also feel this gut wrenching fear.

What if she doesn't?

What if she didn't love me. What would that change?

Would I stop loving her?

No. That could never - would never - happen. I love her too fully, too all encompassing for that.

Would I leave her?

Never. I couldn't. I am lost without her. Her mind, her heart, her body is home to me.

It doesn't matter.

I love her. It is unconditional and all consuming - even if she never loved me back, it wouldn't change, it wouldn't lessen. It is the most powerful thing I know and it fills out every fiber of my being.

And I want her. Need her. Even as my body aches and creaks with pain I want her. I want to lay her down beneath me - on top of me? - and run my hands over her body. I want to cup her breasts in my palms and tickle my fingertips down her ribs. I want to press my lips over every part of her body and breathe in her scent, fill my lungs with it until she's all I can smell, taste and touch. Until I am physically consumed by her, and in her and with her. I want to be consumed by her in every way - not
just the emotional and mental way I am now.

My body protests at the thought of it, of course. My ribs ache, sharp pains shooting through them when I move the wrong way. My head hurts where it smacked against the cement too many times. The gash on my chest still stings. And my back. God my back feels like a thousand needles are poking and piercing my skin constantly. Only her hands, gently stroking lessen the agony at all. And it burns.

Every part of my body burns - my back in an unpleasant way. But the rest of me. God the rest of me burns for her in a very different way. My mind burns to have the knowledge of her body and her soul. My heart burns to hear her tell me she does love me, even as I know it and doubt it equally. My soul burns to meld with hers. And my body burns to possess hers, to make love to her the way I've wanted to since before I can remember.

These two fires burn within me. The one that burns for her will never grow dim.

~~~~

Jarod lays in the same position, arm curled tightly around Miss Parker's stomach, face buried in her neck. His breathing is deep and even, his body finally relaxed in sleep. Miss Parker lays with her head back on the pillow, one of her hands stroking his hair gently, the other still holding his. Her gaze focuses on the ceiling, staring at the patterns made by the headlights of passing cars. They have spent the entire day in bed, fading in and out of sleep, touching each other as they have, but not speaking again. Jarod has been completely unmoving for the last two hours. After a few minutes, Miss Parker turns her head and looks at
Jarod. "Jarod?"

Jarod is completely unresponsive to the sound of her voice.

Miss Parker carefully uncurls her hands around his shoulder and shakes him a little. "Jarod. Wake up."

Jarod doesn't move, doesn't speak, doesn't make a sound.

She shakes him a little harder. "Jarod," she says sharply.

Still, nothing.

A worried look crosses Miss Parker's face. "Jarod wake up," she says almost pleadingly, shaking him a little harder. "Please wake up."

Jarod remains completely unresponsive, not twitching a muscle.

Miss Parker sits up. She looks down at Jarod and notices that the wound on his chest is bleeding through the bandage. She cringes a little and reaches for the first aid kit. She gets up from the bed and goes in the bathroom, getting a couple of towels. She soaks one of them in water and goes back to the bed, unbandaging his chest wound and lightly pressing the wet towel against it. She brings her free hand up to Jarod's face.  "Jarod, you've got to wake up."

Jarod still does not move.

Miss Parker sighs and dabs his chest with the wet bath towel a few more times. She picks up the dry one and presses it against his chest. She removes the towel and takes another bandage, re-bandaging his chest, all the while trying to wake him. Jarod doesn't hear her, doesn't respond to her, instead seeming to sink even deeper into unconsciousness.

~~~~~

Trapped. Can't breathe. Can't think.

Pounding. Beating. Bleeding.

My hands are numb. . they've hung me from the ceiling for twelve hours. I can't feel my fingers, my wrists are burning from the ropes. They're whipping my back. I take this for a full ten minutes before Iscream. A primal, pained terrified scream wrenched from the very depths of my soul. And still, the lashes continue.

I've been kicked. Kicked in the ribs so many times I'm on the floor, curled into myself. I know they're broken. They have to be broken. They're laughing at me. Cold, horrible laughter that makes me want to throw up. Except there's nothing in my stomach *to* throw up because they haven't given me food or water in. . . . a day. Two? I'm not sure. I only know that they're kicking me again and it's coming from all sides and I can't breathe Oh God I can't breathe I need help please just let me die Oh God get me out of here I can't breathe.

Leslie.

Her voice. I hear her voice. She wants me to wake up. I don't know if I can. I'm trapped in this place. This cold, dark place and I can't leave it. They've gotten inside my head, inside my thoughts, my dreams, my every moment. They control my breath, the pumping of my heart, what I eat and drink. They are inside me.

Blood. I'm losing blood. They've taken a huge knife and cut me. A deep, long, slow slash down my skin while I'm chained. It takes them four minutes to make a two inch cut along my chest. I scream the entire time, the agony too much, too much on top of the emotional distress. And I am bleeding more. I am covered with my own blood. Head to foot. So much blood. Help me Leslie.

Leslie. Oh God Leslie. Covered in blood. My blood. Her blood. I don't know. It's everywhere. Red and flowing, sickening. And then everything turns black and white. Dull, like the images on the DSA's. It's all I can see. The color is gone - all gone. And I am on the floor again, huddled in a ball, my ribs aching, my chest bleeding and my soul dying.

Leslie.

~~~~~

An hour after Miss Parker had placed a cool towel on Jarod's chest, he woke up. Suddenly. His eyes fly open, darting around the room, searching, frightened and lost. Miss Parker walks out of the bathroom with a bowl of water and a couple towels in her hand. "Leslie," Jarod whispers in a frantic tone.

Miss Parker hurries over to the bed, setting what's in her hands down on the floor. "I'm right here Jarod."

"How long?" he murmurs, still looking around the room.

Her brows furrow a little. "How long what Sweetie?"

"How long was I in the Centre?" he asks in a low, scared voice.

Miss Parker sits on the side of the bed. "About sixty-four hours."

Jarod's eyes shut. He takes a deep breath. "It seemed like nearly a week," he murmurs in a lost voice. "With everything they did to me. . . . they must've come back every three hours. . . . it seemed like so much longer." His voice is shaky, and his eyes open, darting around the room in a disoriented fashion.

Miss Parker places her hands on either side of his face. She leans down and kisses his forehead softly. "We got you out as soon as we could."

Jarod looks up into her eyes, his pleading. "Help me," he pleads with her softly. "Make it stop. Make them stop." He widens his eyes. "They're in my mind. My soul. They're destroying me from the inside out," he tells her in an unstable tone.

Miss Parker's eyes fill with tears. She takes a couple of deep, shaky breaths. "I wish I knew how to exorcise all of your demons Jarod." She takes another shaky breath. "I can only assure you, you are safe here and that they can't take you."

"You won't let them take me again," he mumbles, curling himself into a fetal position. "I know you won't ever let them take me again." He takes a deep, shuddering breath. "You promised," he whispers like a child.

"No Jarod, I won't." Miss Parker leans over and wraps her arms around his shoulders. "I won't let them do anything to you."

~~~~~

What happened to him? He won't tell me. I know he won't. He doesn't even want me to see him like this, he won't want me to know what he dealt with.

I am left to imagine. I know what they do in those rooms. Beating him was the easy part. They probably tied him up, left him hanging form the ceiling to give themselves better access to his more vulnerable body parts. I know those marks on his back. The small cuts from the whip with the metal plates in the tips, the bruise on his neck from, my only guess, a small round metal bar that's got a few uses when trying to prove a point to someone. And the steady line of bruises . . . shoes, fists, boards. Anything they could get their hands on. Probably a pocket knife to cut both his chest and shoulder. And I haven't seen his legs
yet, but the bruising is likely to be extensive. Of all of this, I basically know. But the question remains, what did they do to him? To his head. Something worse than I can come up with, as I can't imagine Jarod letting them get inside his head. He's always been good at keeping them out.

But I'm lying here, cradling . . . god, my best friend -when was the last time I thought of him like that? - while he trembles in terror for what they've done to him. And what I did to him, even if he refuses to blame me. It doesn't matter, I know it was my fault, to some degree. How could they do this to him? Good lord, how can anyone do this to another human being?

Where the *hell* did that train of thought come from? That's not something I expected to ever hear coming form my head, after all, look what I did to him.

He trembles again, more violently. I press my lips against his forehead. 'Shh Jarod,' I murmur. I try to make him feel safe, but I
don't know how, safety having never been something I'm familiar with. He needs to be safe though, and I have to make everything just that way for him.

I've never felt responsible for another person before. But I do feel responsible for him. Not just in the sense that I hurt him and I have to make it up to him, but because there is a need inside me to makeeverything better, to make him feel needed and wanted, to make . . . to make him feel loved.

I really need to learn how to do that.

~~~~~

Jarod snaps his eyes open again, looking around the room frantically. Miss Parker places a hand against his cheek, stilling his head. "Hey. What's the matter?"

Jarod blinks and reaches his hand out, clutching her forearm tightly. He looks at her closely. "How long have we been here?" he asks urgently.

"About thirty-six hours, give or take."

"We have to go," he says bluntly. "We have to go now."

Miss Parker looks curiously at Jarod. "Okay. How come?"

Jarod shakes his head. "I'm not sure," he says to both her and himself. "I just know we have to go."

Miss Parker nods. "Okay." She looks at Jarod. "Sydney stuck some clothes in the car. I'm gonna go get them."

Jarod nods slowly. "All right," he says softly. "I'm going to go into the bathroom and take a shower."

Miss Parker sits up a little. "Okay. Do you need any help getting to the bathroom?"

Jarod shakes his head. "No, I've got it," he says in a low tone, gently throwing his legs over the side of the bed and standing shakily. He sways for a moment, then stands straight, walking toward the bathroom. "If I'm not out in fifteen minutes. . ." he trails off, and looks back at her. He quirks his lips. "Help," he finishes.

Miss Parker smiles, a little shakily. "I will."

~~~~~

Exactly fourteen minutes later, Jarod pokes his head out the bathroom door. "I need your help after all," he murmurs almost embarrassed.

Miss Parker looks up and smiles a little. "I figured. That's why I didn't change." She gets up and walks toward the bathroom.

Jarod climbs back in the shower and stands there, rather dumbly, not moving. Miss Parker looks at him, an eyebrow crooked. "What can I do for you?"

Jarod looks down at himself. "I. . . . I can't reach," he says softly. "Anywhere beyond my arms and. . . I can't wash my back." He looks at her almost pleadingly. "I'm sorry to bother you. . ."

Miss Parker shakes her head, already stripping off her shirt. "It's not a bother Jarod." She removes the rest of her clothes and steps into the shower with him. She takes the soap and the washcloth and very gently begins washing his back.

Jarod winces as the washcloth abrades his sensitive skin. Miss Parker stops washing his back for a moment. "I'm sorry Jarod."

"It's all right," he says tightly, shutting his eyes. "It needs to get done."

Miss Parker takes a couple of deep breaths. As gently as she possibly can, she rubs the washcloth over his back. Jarod sucks in a breath and holds it, willing himself to stay still until she's done. Miss Parker drops a soft kiss against his shoulder. "All done."

Jarod shivers a little and nods. "Thank you," he whispers huskily.

Miss Parker places one of her hands on top of his shoulder. "Do you need me to do anything else?"

Jarod lets out a ragged sigh. "My legs," he murmurs, staring down at the floor.

Miss Parker nods. She picks the soap back up and kneels down to Jarod's side. She bites her lower lip a little. There are small incisions on his legs. They appear to have been made precisely with scalpels to inflict the maximum amount of pain. There are also small cigarette burns all along his legs. His knees are raw and skinned. Miss Parker shakes her head a little and drops the washcloth. She rubs the soap in her hands and runs his fingers over his legs. Jarod lets out a small gasp at the contact, and shuts his eyes tightly, leaning his forehead against the shower wall. He bites his lip to keep from crying. She finishes washing his leg and scoots over to the other side of the tub and doing the same to the other leg. She finishes washing his other leg and slowly stands up so that she's facing him.

She cups his cheeks gently. "Better?" she asks in a small, hurt voice.

Jarod looks into her eyes and nods very slowly. "Yes," he answers on a sigh. "Thank you so much," he says in a heartfelt tone.

Miss Parker kisses his bruised lips very gently. "You're welcome."

Jarod opens his mouth once, as though to speak, then closes it, shaking his head.

Miss Parker tilts her head to the side a little. "What?"

Jarod sighs and looks down at the bottom of the shower again. "I just wanted to ask if I could hold you," he mumbles.

Miss Parker shuts her eyes and leans against him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. "You don't have to ask."

Jarod crumples slightly against her, wrapping his arms around her waist. "I wasn't sure," he whispers.

"I know." She leans her head against his shoulder. "But now you are. It's a standing offer. No need to ask for permission."

Jarod nods, leaning his cheek on the side of her head. "I won't ask next time I need to hold you," he tells her softly. "But remember you told me I didn't have to - I'll be taking the liberty often."

Miss Parker smiles a little and turns her head, kissing his jaw softly. "I'm counting on it."

~~~~~

She touched me.

I know I had to ask her and she only did it because I was filthy and couldn't reach, but still, she touched me.

I don't think I've ever been that shy, or that embarrassed before. I'd stood in the shower for a good five minutes just letting the water flow over my body, trying to find some other way to do this - any other way. I did not want to call her in there to wash my body. It seemed like something that should wait - washing each other - until after we've made love for hours and we need showers but can't stand to be apart that long.

We are on the road now. We got out of the shower after standing under the water and holding each other for a good ten minutes. We dressed and hurried to the car. Leslie has been driving at about eighty down thehighway toward Mexico for nearly an hour now. We've found a nice soft rock station and we've enjoyed a companionable silence since we got into the car.

I still can't believe she actually touched me.

I was wary to let her see my legs, my back. I know she blames herself. Blames herself for things that are not her fault, things I could never blame her for. But it doesn't matter. I can forgive her a thousand times and it does no good until she forgives herself. I intend to help her with that endeavor. I intend to love her so totally, so thoroughly, so completely that she has no choice but to love herself too. I want to help her heal emotionally just as she has helped me physically. I want us to heal each other. Wounds that go back so far and go down so deep. Wounds that will never be truly healed, but will hopefully close and leave only tiny, barely noticeable scars.

I could feel her anger at the cigarette burns - burns Mr. Parker himself personally added to my legs while I was hung from the ceiling by my wrists.

I could feel her rage at the incisions - these courtesy of one of Raines' Sweepers - the one who wanted to *be* like the 'great' Dr. Raines. He would make a small incision, enough to make me scream at the pain - then they'd ask me questions - who was helping me inside the Centre? Was I aware what my mother was doing before her death? Is my brother truly dead? Whoever's been helping me inside the Centre is as good as dead. Ready for the Sim's again Jarod? - and when I refused to answer any of them, another incision was made. And another. Each time, a little bigger then the time before, a little deeper.

When that didn't work, they took out the needles.

I had blocked that. But it came back to me while she was washing my legs. It was the way her fingertips were prickling my nerves. They took small needles - like acupuncture needles - and inserted them into mylegs. All along my legs. Dozens of them. And then they brought the scalpel back out. I shut my eyes now in the car, leaning my head against the window. A new technique, they said. A never before used method. Pity it didn't break me.

She was touching me.

I cling to the thought like a life preserver at this moment in time. I can't go back there. I was almost gone again and only the soft strains of Sarah McLachlan's 'Full of Grace' brings me back. Her hands were so gentle. The washcloth along my back almost killed me. But I fed off her strength, her comfort, her reassurance, and it helped. It helped more then I can express. Then she stood up and kissed me. And her arms wrapped around my shoulders after I asked to hold her. She was holding me. She told me I didn't even have to ask. Imagine that. I can hold Leslie whenever I want to.

Unfuckingbelievable.

I will hold her whenever the mood strikes me now. And once I'm well, I will do a lot more then hold her. If she will permit it. I think she will. I hope she will. She looks at me sometimes, and I swear, it's as though she can see right through me - to my soul, to my passion. I wonder if she knows how great my passion is for her. My passion and my love. Which is greater? I wonder. I think it's my love. Although my passion is great, my love is unending. Times like this morning in the shower I almost believe she feels the same.

Absolutely, positively, unfuckingbelievable.

~~~~~

Jarod glances away from the window and looks at her. "I'm hungry," he says softly.

Miss Parker glances at him quickly, turning her attention back to the road. "Me too, actually."

Jarod smiles. "How about a drive through? I can feed you while we're on the road." He looks down at the map in his lap. "Just another hour - thirty minutes, the way you drive - to the Mexican border. Last chance for safe food," he murmurs, grinning.

Miss Parker eases off the accelerator, slowing down to forty as they enter into the town. Her eyes scan the five or six fast food restaurants along the main town. "So, what looks good?"

Jarod quirks his lips. "I don't have a preference - you want burgers, chicken or tacos?"

"Burgers." Miss Parker slows down by the McDonald's. "Easier to eat."

"My offer to feed you still stands," Jarod offers softly.

Miss Parker smiles at him. "Still easier."

Jarod chuckles. "That's me - aiming to be easy."

Miss Parker slows down and stops by the drive thru menu. She reaches a hand over and brushes a lock of hair back from his face. "And never succeeding."

Jarod looks up at her. "Yeah, but always trying," he murmurs.

She nods. "So, what do you want?"

Jarod considers the menu. "A number one, no onions, super sized with an orange drink."

Miss Parker talks to the annoying person on the other end of the intercom and orders food. After a couple of corrections, she pulls around to the window. She pays the teenager at the cash register and looks at Jarod. "They have the stupidest people working here," she mutters.

Jarod smiles softly. "They're just people." He lays a hand on her thigh.

"And Leslie. . . you're smarter then the rest of the world. Everyone else pales in comparison."

Miss Parker smiles a little. "Well, I'm smarter then some people."

"You're smarter then ninety-nine percent of the population," he murmurs.

"I should know. I'm part of that one percentile with you."

Miss Parker gives him a look and turns her head, getting the food and drinks from the kid in the window. She hands everything to Jarod and turns the car back onto the main road, heading south out of town.

~~~~~

Well, that was an uneventful trip down. Just the way I like them. Get things done and move on. Especially when my life is on the line. Mine, and his. So now we're in Mexico. Such a *lovely* place. And I mean that with as much sarcasm as reverberates in my head with the thought. Oh well, at least we found a little place on the beach. I won't go near the water, but the sand isn't bad to walk on. Which is what I'm doing.

Jarod's asleep. I probably shouldn't have left him, but I needed some air. I'm not going far. I can't let him be alone for that long, if he wakes up disoriented, I want to be there to calm him.

I still can't believe he asked my permission to hold me. Shit, I've known men who barely ask to fuck you. Yet Jarod asked to put his arms around my body, to hold me. I had no response for a moment, except to pull him into a hug. He now has my permission to wrap his arms around me. I can pretty much guarantee he'll take me up on it quite often. I actually want him to. I want to feel him against me, his breath on my neck, his cheek on mine. So maybe I won't wait for him.

God, when he asked for my help in the shower - I had almost offered before he got in, but decided that he would be embarrassed. And I was right. When he asked, he had the cutest look on his face. The best way I can describe it - a slight blush, almost ashamed, a tinge of hurt, and this glint in his eyes, just before he looked down to the ground, of . .. god, of excitement. He wanted me in the shower with him, and that would easily be the embarrassment. Was it? I'm not sure, I think some of it was he didn't want me to see his legs either.

Oh my fucking god, what they did to his legs. The bruises, I knew . . . the incisions . . . I had forgotten about those. And the burns . . .Daddy, I'd bet anything. There's so many things I could kill that man for, but this one . . . he better hope we never come face-to-face again.

I felt him drifting in the car, thank god for Sarah McLachlan. That damned song probably saved me from having to pull him back from places I promised him he wouldn't have to go back to. And even if he's not going back, he's there in his mind.

So I head back to our little beach-front room. I don't want him to sleep for very long either. Not after last time. And in the room, he's awake, barely. I think he heard me come in.

He's such a beautiful man. I can't make that point enough. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I unbutton my shirt and toss it to the side, moving to lie down with him. The look on his face as I do this, I must have totally surprised him. Oh well, the element of surprise has always been a key to our relationship. Even if it's changing focus, I won't lose that. I lie down on the bed and gently pull him into my arms. I need to feel him, hear his heartbeat, smell and touch his skin. His eyes shine a little, but close before he can betray anything. There's something incredibly comforting to me to have his head resting on my breast. It's not even sexual, just comforting. Something underlying is sexual, but it's not important right now.

And here we are, in Mexico, doing exactly what we were doing in the states. Lying in a bed, holding each other, not talking. I touch his back gently, my fingers running over his bruises. He shivers. I think I've finally found the amount of pressure I can apply without causing him more pain.

We'll be here a couple more days. After that, I don't know.

And the time we spend here, I can safely say, will mostly be spent in bed. I wish he was better . . .

Oh well, soon enough.

~~~~~

Jarod brushes his cheek over her chest softly, blinking his eyes open. It's dark again. He always seems to wake up when it's dark. He tightens his arm around her waist closes his eyes again, settling his cheek against her chest more comfortably. Miss Parker smiles a little, opening one eye. "Comfy?" she asks a little hoarsely.

Jarod rubs his cheek against her like a contended child. "Yes," he whispers.

Miss Parker nods a little, shutting her eye again. "How'd you sleep?"

Jarod swallows. "I passed out for almost three hours. I slept for about fifteen minutes every hour after that."

She chuckles softly. "I know. No bad dreams?"

"No dreams, period," he says in a low tone. "It's soothing and frightening at the same time when I don't dream."

"Well, it's one thing I've never really experienced. I wouldn't mind it right about now."

Jarod places a kiss against the top of her breast. "I wish for you to have a night of dreamless sleep then," he murmurs softly.

Miss Parker smiles a little and runs her hand through his hair. "Thanks. Probably gonna have to wait a few more days before I attempt that, but..."

"When was the last time you slept?" Jarod asks softly, a concerned note creeping into his voice.

Miss Parker licks her lips. "I think I passed out for about twenty minutes out of sheer exhaustion the night.. ." she sighs. "That I locked you back up. I haven't since then."

Jarod lets out a shaky breath and moves his head, kissing the skin between her breasts softly, then placing a gentle kiss against her collar bone. "You need to sleep," he whispers softly. "I know you can't, but you need to."

She nods a little, her hand tightening in his hair. "I know. There's just no way."

Jarod swallows and lays his head back down. "I love you Leslie," he whispers. "I love you and I'll do anything I can - anything you need."

"All I need is just you to do exactly what you've been doing. Just get better."

Jarod smiles a little, nodding, his cheek rubbing against her chest. "Yes Ma'am," he murmurs.

~~~~~

"We should go," Jarod murmurs, not moving his head away from her.

Miss Parker smiles a little. "Probably." She doesn't move either.

"Constant movement until we're settled somewhere is a must," he says in a knowledgeable tone.

Miss Parker nods her head. "Yes it is."

"So we should drive through Mexico and go up California like we planned," he says logically.

"That would probably be a very good idea," she says in a serious tone, a smile on her face.

"There's just one problem," Jarod says, furrowing his eyebrows.

Miss Parker raises an eyebrow. "Which one?"

"I have absolutely no inclination to move," he murmurs in a raspy voice, wrapping his arm tighter around her and nuzzling his cheek against her chest.

Miss Parker chuckles a little, moving on of her hands to his cheek. "Me either. I like this."

Jarod closes his eyes. "Like this hell. I've dreamed about this."

Miss Parker tilts her head a little to the side, considering the top of his head. "Oh? And how does it compare to the dream?"

"Well," he says slowly, "in the dream I'm not badly beaten."

Miss Parker shuts her eyes and feathers her fingertips lightly over his face. "I meant in feeling."

"In feeling?" he asks softly. He shrugs. "Isn't worth comparing," he says simply.

"I like that answer."

"I feel safe with you Leslie," he tells her softly. "I've never felt safe before in my life, but here lying with you. . . . I feel safe."

Miss Parker swallows hard. "You are," she says in a watery voice.

~~~~~

Two days later, the Mexico scenery was about to end as they approach the California border. Jarod looks up and glances at Miss Parker. "Pull into lane 3."

Miss Parker raises an eyebrow and does as he instructs. "Your little friend?" she asks in a condescending tone.

Jarod shrugs. "Something like that."

Miss Parker nods. "Okay. As long as you know what we're doing."

They pull to the booth and a woman peeks her head out. She smiles brightly. "Jarod!" she screeches. She flies out of the window and runs around the passenger side, opening the door and throwing her arms around him. "How are you?!"

Jarod smiles and hugs her back. "Fine Christie. How are you? How's the job working out?"

Christie shrugs. "Eh. Can't complain. It's work."

"Christie, this is Leslie. Leslie, Christie."

Miss Parker waves a finger at Christie. "Hi," she says in a pleasant tone laced with acid.

Christie waves her hand. "Hi," she says brightly. "It's always nice to meet any friend of Jarod's." She winks at Jarod. She narrows her eyes at him. "What happened to your face?" she asks in a concerned tone.

Jarod shrugs. "I ran into a door. Fell over. It was a nasty spill," he says simply.

Christie pouts. "Poor baby," she murmurs. She places a kiss on his cheek, then his forehead, then his eye. "What can I do?"

Jarod smiles gently. "You can let us through the border, no paperwork, no questions asked."

Christie quirks her lips. "I thought I was supposed to do the straight and narrow thing, Jarod," she reminds him gently.

Miss Parker sighs. "Would it kill you to not once?"

Jarod turns toward Miss Parker and narrows his eyes. "Being honest isn't a fault," he tells her with a 'mellow out' look and tone to his voice. He turns back to Christie. "However, I really need the help right now."

Christie sighs overly dramatic. "For you Jarod - anything." She places a quick kiss on his mouth, and turns, shutting the door and hopping back into her booth. She opens the gates. "Have a pleasant stay in sunnyCalifornia," she says brightly.

Miss Parker wraps her hands tightly around the steering wheel and drives through the gates, an acidic smile on her face directed at Christie. They get through the border and she turns her head a little to look at Jarod. "That was cute."

Jarod looks at her oddly. "You're jealous," he says in amazement. "I don't believe I've ever made someone jealous before."

Miss Parker's eyes narrow against the road. "It wasn't you," she murmurs.

"Well you shouldn't let Christie make you jealous," he murmurs softly. "First and foremost, as much as I love her, she's got nothing on you." He quirks his lips. "Not to mention the fact that I gave her away at her wedding."

Miss Parker chuckles a little ironically. "Good."

Jarod merely stares at her, smiling as they drive up the coast of California.

~~~~~

Jealous. She was jealous.

I laugh internally at the thought. I won't let myself laugh out loud. It could get me killed.

Why she would be jealous of Christie I can understand only from a logical detached point of view. Christie is a beautiful, intelligent young woman. Strawberry blonde hair, big doe eyes. It wasn't always that way. She'd been homeless - kicked out of her home by her parents after he'd gotten pregnant at eighteen. She'd been raising her daughter on the streets. I had found them, introduced them to a nice young man I'd met who was desperately looking for a reason to live, and given them all something to hold onto. I love Christie dearly. She's like a baby sister to watch over.

Why Leslie would ever - could ever - be jealous of anyone is beyond me. Other women don't exist to me. Once I kissed her I could never be happy with anything else. She gives me peace and safety and serenity. She is everything.

You can't very well be interested in another woman when your heart mind body and soul are tied up in a very neat little package with someone else. At least I can't. I love Leslie too much. Well, just enough. There's no such thing as too much where she's concerned.

My God I made her jealous. Well, not me, but whatever she feels for me made her jealous. It's powerful enough. Even if she doesn't love me, she at least wants me, feels possessive of me. And again, it's enough. That kind of protectiveness, possessiveness of me is enough.

It's more then I'd ever allowed myself to hope for.

~~~~~

Jarod pokes his head out the car window, smiling as his eyes focus on a small little bed and breakfast on the beach just outside San Diego. "Can we stop there?" he asks, looking over at Miss Parker.

Miss Parker glances in the direction he's looking. "Sure, why not?" Sheslows the car down and stops it by the B&B.

Jarod opens his door and steps out, stretching his body, groaning a little at the tightness in his back. Miss Parker climbs out of the car and looks around a little. "Hmm. . . . this is kind of nice, actually." Jarod nods. "It is. It's gorgeous." He walks toward the managers office.

"Could I have a room for the night please?" he asks pleasantly.

Ten minutes later, they are ensconced in a ocean view room. Jarod walks over to the window, opens the sliding glass door, keeping the screen shut. He heads over to the bed and lays down, letting out a sigh of contentment. Miss Parker smiles at him. "Comfortable?"

Jarod nods slowly. "Very," he murmurs in a raspy rough voice.

Miss Parker sits down on the side of the bed. "So now what?"

Jarod shrugs, his face buried in a pillow. "Dunno," he says slowly. "What do you want to do?"

Miss Parker shrugs and lightly runs her hand over his shoulder. "I have no clue. How are you feeling?"

"Better," Jarod says softly. "Like see what you're doing there? That doesn't even hurt."

A small smile crosses Miss Parker's face. "It's about time."

Jarod sits up and wraps both arms around her waist, hauling her down next to him. He places a kiss on her cheek and just holds her. She wraps her arms gently around his back and leans her head against his. She smiles. "This feels good."

Jarod nods, running his hands slowly up and down her back. "Yeah. Taking liberties is fun."

Miss Parker chuckles a little. "I'm glad you're taking them."

"I wish I could take more," he murmurs. "I wish I could take whatever you'd allow. But right now I doubt anything that happened would be very good for you."

Miss Parker smiles and kisses his forehead. "I can wait till you're feeling better."

"Oh I'm feeling better," he says with a smile. "I just don't have very much energy."

Miss Parker runs her hand up and down his back gently. "How much pain are you in?"

Jarod quirks his lips. "My ribs are a little . . . tender. And . . . my back is still a little sore . . . certain areas on my legs still sting . . . but other then that . . . I'm feeling much better."

Miss Parker grins and kisses his ear lobe. "You can be on top," she whispers.

Jarod chuckles and runs his hands over her lower back. "Are you sure?" he asks carefully.

Miss Parker raises an eyebrow. "Do I usually suggest things when I'm not?"

Jarod shakes his head a little. "No, but. . . I just want to make sure you're not teasing me," he says in a voice that's a cross between an unsure little boy and a confident man.

Miss Parker smiles and leans over, kissing his lips softly. "I'm not teasing you Jarod. I want to make love to you."

Jarod kisses her back and runs his hand over her cheek. He rolls a little so he's propped on one elbow, and she's lying on her back. He runs his hand from her cheek to her neck, then down her arm, to her hip, them moving back up her sides, trailing his fingers over her ribs. Miss Parker moves her hands to the front of Jarod's shirt and unbuttons it, slipping her fingers inside and running them over his chest. She smiles at him. "Just let me know if anything hurts, okay?"

Jarod nods a little. "I will," he promises softly, running his hand to the front of her shirt and slowly undoing each button, one by one. After studiously undoing twenty-three buttons, Jarod parts her shirt and lays his head down, placing a kiss against her chest, moving down between her breasts, then brushing his lips over her stomach, placing small kisses around her belly button. Miss Parker tangles her fingers in Jarod's hair. She shuts her eyes for a moment. Her other hand runs down under his neck, down his arm and up his back. Jarod flicks his tongue out, licking the skin of her stomach lightly, then moving to her ribs,
tracing each one with his tongue, sucking and biting lightly at her skin. Small moans come from deep in Miss Parker's throat. She moves both of her hands to his shoulders under his shirt and pushes the material down his arms as far as she can reach. Jarod moves his arms, never taking his mouth from her and shrugs out of his shirt.

He trails his mouth to the front clasp of her bra and undoes it with his teeth. He kisses the skin between her breasts, grazing his teeth along it lightly, then licking over it with his tongue. Miss Parker's back arches slightly against him. She runs one of her hands up into his hair.

Her other hand trails lightly up and down his back. Jarod moves his cheek, brushing it over the cups of her bra, moving them aside. He places soft kisses along her breasts, moving his tongue underneath them, then around the nipple, never quite touching it. Miss Parker groans a little and tightens her hand in his hair. She looks down at him, her eyes a little glazed over. "Jarod," she whines.

"What?" he mumbles, nuzzling the side of her breast with his cheek, his mouth still placing soft kisses in between her breasts.
 Miss Parker tightens her hand a little more in his hair and pulls his head up so she can look at him. "And you were worried I was teasing you?"

Jarod grins at her. "Yes, I was," he murmurs softly, kissing her lips gently. "However, there's a difference between verbal teasing and physical teasing." He trails his mouth down her throat, sucking at the hollow, then moving his mouth to her collar bone, running his tongue over the tops of her breasts.

Miss Parker smiles and lets out a soft moan. "True," she murmurs, running her hands down his sides to the waist band of his pants. She runs her fingers under the material against his skin to the front and unbuttons them, slipping her hand inside and cupping his erection.

Jarod lets out a gasp and runs his hands down to hers, covering them. He looks at her. "No energy, no stamina," he tells her softly. "Stop that." He removes her hands from his pants and places them on his shoulders. He leans his head back down and licks at the sides of her breasts.

Miss Parker chuckles and runs her hands back down his sides and back around his back. She slides them under his pants, cupping his ass. Jarod sighs. "Better," he mutters, moving his mouth over one of her nipples, taking it inside and sucking it, hard, laving it with his tongue. Miss Parker lets out a loud moan. She arches her back against his mouth. Jarod runs his hand up her sides to cup her other breast, moving his hand so her nipple grazes the center of his palm. He continues to suck on her other nipple, his teeth gently grazing it, rubbing it between them, his tongue moving over it.

Miss Parker's breathing becomes shallow and labored. She moves her hands from his ass to the side of his hips, sliding his jeans and underwear down as far as her hands can reach. She lifts one of her feet and hooks her toes around the waist band, easing them back down his legs. Jarod releases her nipple from his mouth and moves his head down to her stomach, still trailing his mouth over her skin. His other hand comes up and cups her other breast, both his hands moving over her as his mouth
encounters the waist of her skirt. He runs his tongue underneath the waist band, then moves his head to the side, finding the zipper on the skirt and taking it between his teeth, pulling it down as far as it would go. He moves his head back around to her other side, repeating the same motion with the other zipper. He moves his head to the loose material on the front of her stomach, taking it in his teeth and pulling it down to her hips. Miss Parker sucks in a breath and lifts her head, looking at Jarod.
"Where did you learn how to do that?" she mutters, slightly breathlessly. Jarod shrugs, running his mouth to the waist band on her panties, taking it between his teeth and snapping it lightly. "Just now," he murmurs. His hands continue massaging her breasts gently.

Miss Parker moves her hands to her skirt and underwear and pushes them down her hips, kicking her legs gently to get them off. She moves her hands back up to his head and strokes his hair gently. Jarod moves his head down and places a soft kiss against her thigh, then moves down to her inner thigh, darting his tongue out and licking small circles along the skin. He moves his hands away from her breasts and runs them down her thighs, parting them and leaning his head down, licking her clit softly. Miss Parker lets out a quiet scream, tightening her hands in his hair again. Jarod licks his tongue along her clit gently, then moves down a little, slipping it just inside her, then out, moving back up and flicking it over her clit again. Miss Parker digs her heels into the mattress, biting her lower lip and leaning her head back into the pillows as far as she can. She moans on every short exhale of breath.  Jarod takes her clit into his mouth and sucks on it gently, then grazes his teeth along it, his tongue coming out and licking over it again. He moves his mouth down and slips his tongue inside her as far as he can, his mouth moving and fastening, sucking. He runs his hand from her thigh between her legs, rubbing his thumb over her clit while his tongue moves
inside her and his mouth continues sucking.

Miss Parker tosses her head from side to side lightly. Her body tenses as she starts to come, a quiet scream leaving her mouth. Jarod continues to suck at her for a moment, then moves his tongue out, and simply licks and laps at her. His thumb brushes over her clit a couple more times, then his mouth replaces it, sucking lightly at first, then his tongue coming out to lick long, slow hard strokes. Miss Parker's entire body shudders, her hands tighten in his hair again. She moans his name continuously. Jarod continues to lick at her until her body relaxes. He places a kiss against her clit and moves his head up again, brushing his lips over her stomach, placing them around one of her nipples, licking it lightly, then moving back up to her collar bone, sucking and biting at her skin, his tongue wandering up to her throat, laving it, biting at  the chords in her neck. Miss Parker licks her lips, trying to catch her breath. She runs her hands down his sides to his hips and around the front, her fingers wrapping around his erection.

Jarod lets out a groan and places his mouth over hers, kissing her hard, running his tongue into her mouth. She kisses him back, her tongue running over his and his mouth. She moves one of her hands to his balls, cupping them. Jarod kisses her harder, running his hands up and down her sides, cupping a breast, then moving again under her back, holding her against him. He runs both hands to hers, pulling her away and twining their fingers together. He lays between her legs and pulls her hands above her head. He kisses her slowly, lingeringly. Miss Parker kisses him back and brings her knees up, tightening them slightly around his
hips. Jarod slowly slips inside her, placing his mouth against her ear. "I love you Leslie," he whispers in a hoarse, raspy voice, pulling out of her excruciatingly slowly, then sliding back in.

Miss Parker groans and tries to thrust her hips against his. Jarod moves again, pulling almost completely out of her, then slamming in, hard. He moves his head to her neck and licks at her shoulders, biting softly, his fingers still twined with hers against the bed. Miss Parker tosses her head back and wraps one of her legs around his hips. She moans loudly, moving her hips against his. Jarod thrusts into her as far as he can, then moves his hips against hers in fast, hard rhythm. Miss Parker places kisses along his forehead, down the side of his face. She tightens her leg a little around his hips, lifting hers almost completely off the bed. Jarod releases one of her hands, running his down her side under her lower back, holding her against him tightly. He continues to thrust, harder, faster, whispering her name into her ear.  Miss Parker's newly free hand runs down Jarod's back, her fingertips tracing small patterns on his skin. She tightens her entire body around his.

Jarod runs his lips up her jaw to her ear, sucking on the earlobe, then dipping his tongue inside. "Come for me Leslie," he whispers huskily. "Scream for me."

Miss Parker shuts her eyes tightly for a moment as she feels her orgasm building. She opens her eyes and turns her head a little, staring into Jarod's. She tightens her body more and lets go, her orgasm running through her. She leans her head back, letting out a scream. Jarod lays his head in the crook of her neck and thrusts into her harder, faster, whispering her name like a prayer, over and over. He lets out a low groan as his orgasm runs through his body. He continues to thrust into her as hard as he can. Miss Parker gently wraps her arm around his back and she kisses his temple gently. "So much for a lack of stamina," she
murmurs softly.

Jarod's body relaxes against hers and he lays his head on her shoulder. He places a kiss against her neck. "Sorry," he murmurs sincerely. "I said I was tired."

Miss Parker chuckles huskily. "I'm not complaining."

Jarod wraps his arm around her waist, his cheek settling into the crook between her breasts. "Love you Leslie," he murmurs. "I have to sleep now."

Miss Parker lifts her head and kisses the top of his. "Okay. Sweet dreams."

"Mmhhmm," he murmurs, rubbing his cheek against her skin softly and tightening his hand around her waist.

~~~~

That was . . . holy shit, that was cosmic.

Cosmic? Yep, cosmic. Amazing, incredible, absofuckinglutly cosmic.

I've never felt that way with another person. I've never come so hard, never felt so connected . . . god, was it just the build-up, the days of sleeping together, lying together, touching each other? Can't be, there was too much there. Who would've thought that I'd be feeling like this about Jarod? I'd hoped, but never really thought it could happen. But lying here, him asleep in my arms, his scent on my skin, I realize it did.

Damn it all to hell, I love him. Yes Jarod, I love you.

That thought changes so much in my head. Yet it changes nothing in the grand scheme of things, it doesn't do anything to our relationship . . . he would have stayed, slept in my bed, made love to me, even without the words ever coming into play from my end. But now that doesn't have to happen.

I want to wake him up, just to tell him, but I know how much he needs to sleep. So that gives me time to figure out how I want to say it.

I know, I know . . . just *say* it, say 'Jarod, I love you.' Not good enough. Not me enough. Just not enough. I'm so fucking insane. I'm obsessing over how to tell someone I love them. The perfectionist in me is way too loud for my tastes right now.

But that's okay, it gives me something to think about. Something other than the feel of his body against mine, moving and kissing my skin, his tongue and lips working on my clit, his cock in my hand . . . see? I just want to wake him up and make love again. I really need to re-focus.

I love you Jarod.

Ahh, better. Not that I think he'd object to waking up any of the number of ways I have in my head, I want to give him some more time to sleep. He says he's feeling better, but I know he's still in pain, still sore and hurting and the cut on his chest still bleeds a little when I change the bandages. So I'll let him rest. And figure out how to tell the man I love that I love him.

~~~~~

Jarod moves his head against her stomach, his cheek rubbing lightly against her skin. His arms are wrapped around and under her back. He blinks his eyes open slowly and glances at the clock. It's midnight. They'd been in bed for almost twelve hours. He smiles, lying his head back down on her stomach and listening to her breathe. He could tell she was asleep by the exact rate of her breaths and he was glad, happy she was finally sleeping. Sighing in contentment, Jarod lays his head down on her shoulder, placing a kiss to her collar bone. He closes his eyes and lets himself drift back to sleep.

A few minutes later, Miss Parker turns her head a little on the pillow and opens her eyes. She smiles at Jarod's sleeping face and glances over at the clock, which now reads twelve fifteen. She turns her head back to Jarod's and kisses his forehead softly. She runs her hand down his side to his hip, a small mischievous smile crossing her face. She lifts her hand to his penis, her fingers stroking it gently. She very carefully rolls him onto his back on the mattress and moves down the bed. She
lowers her head down to his penis, taking the tip of it into her mouth and sucking gently. Jarod moans a little in his sleep, bringing a hand down and running it through her hair. Miss Parker moves her mouth more, her tongue stroking his growing erection with long strokes. Jarod lets out a groan, his other hand moving to her hair, all ten fingers massaging her scalp in small circles.

Miss Parker takes as much of him into her mouth as she can, sucking. One of her hands comes up, cupping his balls. The tip of her tongue runs down the length of his shaft and up to the top, swirling around. Jarod arches his hips off the bed a little and takes as deep a breath as he can, his eyes remaining shut. Miss Parker bobs her head up and down over his erection, moving to take just the tip and a couple of inches into her mouth. She wraps her other hand around the base of his shaft, her tongue running in small circles over the sensitive head. Jarod lets out a series of whimpers, keeping his fingers tight against her scalp,
fully awake now. Miss Parker continues sucking the tip of his erection, hollowing her cheeks out and sucking harder. She works her hand over the rest of his shaft, massaging gently. Jarod wraps his fingers through her hair and tugs her head a little, urging her up. Miss Parker shakes her head a little, keeping him in her mouth. Jarod leans his head back further on the pillow, letting out a cross between a sigh and a groan.

She lowers her mouth a little more over his erection, still sucking and runs her tongue over his erection with long strokes. Jarod moves one hand out of her hair to the sheets, clutching and unclutching. He groans her name, sighing it every time he exhales. Miss Parker continues her ministrations. Jarod lifts his hips off the bed, his entire body tensing, his orgasm building. He lets out a groan, tightening his hand in her hair, his fist around the sheets as he comes, hard. Miss Parker holds him in her mouth, still sucking gently until she feels his body start to relax. She lifts her head and smiles up at him. "Hi."

Jarod swallows deeply and opens one eye. "Hi," he says in a low, raspy voice. He closes his eyes again.

Miss Parker chuckles a little. She crawls back up the bed so that her head is level with his and leans down, kissing him hard. Jarod runs one hand down her spine, the other on the back of her head, holding her against him. He kisses her back, equally hard, running his tongue along her lips. Miss Parker smiles against his mouth and kisses him back for a moment. She lifts her head and smiles down at him. "How are you doing?"

Jarod raises an eyebrow, keeping his eyes closed. "I just had the best dream," he murmurs.

She raises an eyebrow, chuckling a little. "You sure it was a dream?"

"Oh, had to have been," he says confidently. "Nothing real could be that good."

Miss Parker smiles gently and kisses his forehead. "Oh, up until about fifteen hours ago I would've agreed with you."

Jarod runs his hands down to her hips, flipping her over onto her back. He opens his eyes, his face hovering over hers. He places a soft kiss against her forehead, her cheek bones. "You are so right," he murmurs.

Miss Parker quirks her lips a little. "I usually am."

Jarod runs his hand down her to her hip, slips it between her legs and slips a finger inside her. He moves his head down to her ear, biting the lobe gently. "I'll remember that," he whispers.

Miss Parker moans softly and turns her head, kissing his lips. "You do that."

Jarod leans his mouth down, taking one of her nipples in his mouth, then between his teeth, rubbing it softly, biting, then darting his tongue out, licking it. He slips a second finger inside her and strokes her gently. Miss Parker shuts her eyes, biting her lower lip. She moans a little louder and brings one of her hands up to the back of his head, tangling her fingers in his hair. Jarod releases her nipple, moving to her other breast, licking her nipple once, lightly, then doing it again, faster, working his tongue over it impossibly fast. His thumb moves up to her clit, rubbing it as his fingers thrust in and out of her.

Miss Parker moans almost continuously. She tosses her head back and forth on the pillow. Her hand tightens in his hair and she spreads her legs a little wider, giving his hand better access. Jarod places his mouth around her nipple, sucking on it, continuing to move his tongue over it fast, hard strokes. He rubs his thumb over her clit harder, faster, slipping a third finger inside her and thrusting hard, fast. Miss Parker thrusts her hips up to his hand as she lets out a quiet scream as her body trembles, her orgasm running through her. Jarod nibbles at her nipple, continuing to thrust his hand, his thumb massaging her clit. Miss Parker's head rolls back deeply into the pillow, soft cries coming from deep in her throat. She continues to tremble, her orgasm prolonging. Jarod continues to lick her nipple, rub her clit and move his fingers gently in and out of her until her trembling ceases and her breathing becomes deeper. He slowly moves his lips up to her throat, sucking on the pulse there, then moving to her lips, kissing her slowly, lingeringly.

Miss Parker kisses him back, her hand stroking his hair gently. She
moves her head a little and smiles at him. "I could wake up like this. . . . all the time."

Jarod smiles shakily at her and kisses her cheek, her ear. "Me too," he whispers. "God," he says on a sigh. "Do you have any idea how much just touching you turns me on?"

Miss Parker smiles a little mischievously. "Probably."

Jarod chuckles and sucks her earlobe into his mouth, nibbling on the end of it. He moves both his hands to either side of her hips, massaging softly. "Hey Leslie," he whispers. "You want to be on top?"

Miss Parker chuckles. "Sure, why not?"

Jarod holds on tightly to her hips and turns, lying on his back, lifting her on top of him. Miss Parker wraps her arms around Jarod's neck and leans down, kissing him gently. Jarod runs his hands from her lower back to her shoulders, touching the line of her spine only with his fingertips, feather light. Miss Parker shivers a little. "That tickles."

Jarod repeats the motion and moves his head to her ear. "Want me to stop?" he breathes, blowing into her ear.

Miss Parker shakes her head. "No."

Jarod continues to run his hands up and down her back in the same maddening way. Miss Parker lowers her head, running her lips down his throat. She sucks gently on the pulse at the base of his neck. Jarod leans his head back into the pillow, arching his neck into her mouth. He runs his hand up her back again, tangling it in the hair at the side of her head, his other hand still running his fingers over her spine. Miss Parker runs one of her hands down his chest. She runs her fingers over his erection and carefully plants her knees on either side of his hips.  She lifts her head and smiles a little invitingly at Jarod. Jarod removes his hand from her hair and runs both his down to her hips, holding them above him. He lifts his hips and slips the tip of his erection inside her, holding her just above him. He slowly moves just the tip, in and out.

Miss Parker groans a little in frustration and tries to lower her hips down against his. Jarod smiles at her, keeping her where she is. He continues to move slowly, still just stroking her with the tip of his erection. Miss Parker leans her head forward, her forehead resting against his chest. "You are so evil," she murmurs.

Jarod chuckles, low in his throat, continuing his ministrations. "Complaints?" he murmurs.

She shakes her head, her forehead still resting on his chest. "No. You're just evil."

Jarod grins and suddenly thrusts his hips up, going as deeply as he can inside her. He pulls out again, and slams in, hard, repeating the motion. Miss Parker raises her head and smiles down at him. She places soft kisses all over his face and tightens her knees around his hips. "Better," she murmurs, a little breathlessly.

Jarod smiles, kissing her face and keeping a firm hold on her hips. He moves her hips up and down on him, thrusting into her, slow, hard strokes. Miss Parker moans against the side of his face. She runs her hands up his arms, her fingers gently curling over his shoulders. Jarod leans his head up, taking one of her nipples in his mouth and licking at it, sucking gently. He digs his fingers into her hips, moving her faster, thrusting faster, harder. Miss Parker tenses and leans her head down against his shoulder. She moans his name loudly, her body shuddering a little with the beginnings of her orgasm. Jarod keeps one hand firmly planted on her hip, the other moving between her legs, and rubbing her clit, hard, fast in time with his strokes. He thrusts faster into her, and slams into as hard as he can. Miss Parker screams into his shoulder, her orgasm hitting full force. Jarod continues to pump into her, harder and faster, his own body tensing, his orgasm building. He rubs his thumb over her clit even faster, harder as he feels himself coming.

Miss Parker wraps her arms back around his shoulders, holding onto him tightly. She places soft kisses against his shoulder. Jarod's body relaxes and he sags into the bed. He moves his hands to her back again, rubbing circles along her spine and breathing deeply and raggedly. Miss Parker lifts her head and kisses his lips gently. She grins at him a little. "You're getting better at that."

Jarod quirks one side of his lips up. "I'm more rested," he murmurs.

Miss Parker smiles softly and kisses his forehead. "Well, I can't wait to see what surprises you have in store when you're completely feeling better."

"Sweetheart," he murmurs, lifting his head and kissing her lips softly. "I'll bend your mind."

~~~~~

I had the most amazing dream.

No, not that. Although that was incredible. The dream I had was simpler.

Much more basic. As if there is anything more basic then *that*. It was Leslie. And me.

And a baby.

Our baby.

We were lying in bed, Leslie lying on my chest, the baby in the crook of her arm against my stomach. The dream was nothing but what I was feeling at that moment. It brings tears to my eyes just thinking about it. The peace. The joy. The absolute love that filled me then. And I wanted it.

I want it. Bad.

And then the dream changed. I wasn't sure why until I woke up. The things that woman can do with her mouth. . . . God I'd ask her where she learned it if I thought I really wanted the answer. Which I don't. I'm not by nature a jealous person, but I'd just as soon keep the images of other men who were completely unworthy of her out of my mind. Not that I'm worthy in my mind. But I figure no one on earth deserves her, so I might as well have her. Mostly because I'll treat her the way she needs to be treated. The way she deserves to. Like a cross between a Princess and a Playmate. Odd combination, maybe, but quintessential
Leslie Parker.

She blows my mind. When I look at her, when I touch her, when I breathe her in she tears everything I've ever known about male female relations into little pieces. She is wind and fire and rain and she burns and cleanses my every fiber - my mind, my body my soul. And she absolutely fucking rocks my world.

I am lucky. So very lucky. And not just now. Then. If someone told me I could have it all back - my entire life - No being kidnapped at six, no losing my parents, no being locked in the Centre - if only I'd give up knowing her all my life. If only I'd give up the last week with her, sleeping with her, resting with her, making love with her - I would turn them down. Because it wouldn't be worth it. Any normal, semi-happy life would be meaningless without her. And that is truly how I know that I love her.

Because I would do it all over again - the tests, the beatings, the mind fucks, the humiliation, all of it - to experience this last week with her.

Once, about ten years ago, I had the most amazing dream.

Tonight I feel as though it's finally come true.

~~~~~

Sunlight streams through a crack in the curtains hitting Miss Parker in the face. She groans and turns her head to the side, opening her eyes. She looks at the clock. It's one forty-five. She sighs and turns her head to look at Jarod, who's still asleep. She smiles at him and runs her hand down his cheek, leaning over and kissing his forehead. "Hey Jarod. Wake up baby."

Jarod blinks his eyes open slowly, looking at her for a moment, a wide smile breaking out over his face. "She called me baby," he murmurs to himself, kissing her cheek softly.

Miss Parker chuckles. "I hate to wake up, but we really should decide what we're doing. We were supposed to check out an hour ago."

Jarod holds up a finger and grabs the phone, dialing the front desk. "Hello, this is Mr. Knowels in room 12. We'd like to extend our stay until tomorrow." He smiles. "Thank you." He hangs up the phone and turns back to her, wrapping his arms around her waist and placing a soft kiss against her lips. "I just bought us another day."

"Literally," Miss Parker says, snickering a little. She leans her forehead against his. "So what are we doing after tomorrow?"

Jarod shrugs. "Whatever we want to do?" he asks. "With the money Sydney put in there. ... we can do just about anything."

Miss Parker smiles. "We really should thank him for that."

Jarod nods. "As soon as I get another secure cell phone and I'm sure we're safe, I intend to get Sydney out of the Centre. Angelo too." He sighs. "Hell, let's just take a cue from Syd and blow the place to Kingdom Come."

Miss Parker quirks her lips a little and nods. "Okay. Just make sure Broots is outta there too."

Jarod nods. "Broots, Sydney and anyone who's there against their will - out. Everyone else - in." He nods once, sharply. "Is good?"

Miss Parker laughs. "God I love the way your mind works."

Jarod chuckles, hugging her against him. "The feeling, I assure you, is mutual," he murmurs, running his lips over her hairline.

Miss Parker smiles. "Good. So what are we doing with the rest of the day?"Jarod shrugs. "Whatever you like, my love," he whispers softly. "We're by the ocean. . . so we can go for a swim. . . or we can spend the day in bed. . . or we could go for a walk. . . explore San Diego. ." he smiles gently. "Whatever your heart desires."

Miss Parker kisses the tip of his nose and smiles softly. "All my heart desires right now is to be with you. So I guess I'm really not qualified to make that decision. What do you want to do?"

Jarod sighs. "You won't want to do what I want to do," he murmurs. "It's. . . boring."

Miss Parker raises an eyebrow. "Try me. At least tell me."

Jarod looks at her carefully. "I want to lie in bed and order movies off of pay-per view with you all day long. I just want to hold your body against mine, feel you, touch you, taste you. . . I want to know you like the back of my hand. Order room service and just. . . . . be for awhile," he finishes in a low voice that rasps against the still air like sandpaper.

Miss Parker grins. "That doesn't sound boring."

Jarod smiles gently and leans his head against hers. "I was hoping you'd say that," he murmurs.

Miss Parker wraps her arm around his back. "Anything that gives me an excuse to touch you is fine with me."

Jarod chuckles a little. "My dear, dear Miss Parker," he says in the most affectionate of tones, "you never require an excuse to touch me."

"I'll remember that," she murmurs, running her lips across his forehead.

Jarod leans over her, his cheek resting against her neck as he grabs for the remote on the night stand. He flips the TV on and calls up the movie menu. "What'll it be? Comedy? Drama? Thriller? Horror? Romance?"

Miss Parker shrugs. "I don't care. I don't think I've seen any of the movies that there are in that little list, so whatever looks good."

Jarod considers the screen. "Well. .. . I haven't seen anything on there but 'The X-Files Movie'.. ." he trails off. "Just pick a title."

Miss Parker eyes the list carefully. She sighs a little and grabs the remote out of his hand randomly flipping on a movie. She smiles. "I didn't care."

Jarod shrugs. "That's fine." He takes the remote and tosses it to the floor. He wraps his arms back around her and leans his head back on the pillow, looking at the TV. "You have no idea, right?" he asks, turning his head to look at the screen.

Miss Parker leans her head against his shoulder. "Nope."

"Then I guess we'll find out together," he murmurs, kissing her forehead. "And after today. . . we'll figure out where we're going
together, too."

Miss Parker nods, her eyes focused above the television. "Sounds good."

Jarod leans down, kissing her cheek softly. "Is something wrong?" he murmurs. "I feel. . . . something coming off you."

Miss Parker shakes her head a little, her eyes still focused on the wall. "Nothing's wrong," she murmurs softly.

Jarod looks at her carefully. "Okay. .. then is something on your mind?" he asks in a very soft voice, trailing his fingers over her shoulder blades.

"I was just thinking," she begins, a little distractedly. "About what you've done to my life."

Jarod smiles a little. "What have I done?" he asks curiously, a little baffled.

Miss Parker widens her eyes a little, consideringly. "You've successfully made me reconsider every decision and belief that I had. You've forced me to look at things that were probably going to stay buried otherwise. You've reminded me that it's okay to be happy occasionally."

"It's okay to be happy all the time," he interrupts softly.

She smiles a little, her eyes still focused on the other side of the room. "And damnit Jarod, you made me fall in love with you."

Jarod shuts his eyes and catches his breath. He swallows once, then runs his hand to her cheek, cupping it and pressing his lips against the side of her face. "Glad to be of service," he whispers in a watery voice.

Miss Parker turns her head, focusing her eyes on his face. "I do love you," she murmurs. "It took me awhile to remember how, but I did, and I do."

"I love you too Leslie," he whispers as steadily as he's capable. "And I am so very, very happy that you did. And that you do."

Miss Parker smiles a little and kisses his lips gently. "I kind of figured that out last night. Just took me awhile to figure out how to
tell you."

Jarod smiles, and laughs a bit unsteadily. "I love you would've worked just fine," he murmurs.

Miss Parker sighs a little unsteadily. "I guess I just didn't want it to sound totally contrived because it was thrown out in the middle of sex."

Jarod smiles gently and runs his fingers down her cheek softly. "For some people, that may be true," he murmurs softly. "But when have you ever said something like that that you didn't meant?" He shakes his head. "You're not the type to blurt something out in a moment like that unless it's true. And as long as it's true, Leslie, I don't care when or how I hear it. As long as it's from you."

Miss Parker smiles a little. "I'll remember that. And I won't worry about it from now on. I've said it. It was the first time that was the hard part."

Jarod leans his head down to her ear and whispers softly. "I know this may sound a little childish, but would you mind saying it again?"

Miss Parker leans her head against his. She presses her lips against his ear. "I love you Jarod," she whispers softly. "I love you with everything in me."

Jarod takes a deep, shuddering breath. He moves his head, pressing his forehead against hers. He wraps his arms around her back and holds her against him tightly. "I know," he whispers finally. "I think I've always known."

Miss Parker kisses him gently. She wraps her arms around his back and rests her head on his shoulder. She shuts her eyes for a moment when a voice from the TV distracts her. "What the hell are we doing watching a Jim Carey movie?" she asks in an outraged, shocked tone.

Jarod shakes his head. "No. . . . this is 'The Truman Show.' The other movie I saw," he says, a small smile on his face. "You might say I. .. identified with the lead character."

Miss Parker glances at the screen for a moment then back at Jarod. "Oh, right, this movie."

Jarod raises an eyebrow. "You've seen it?"

She shakes her head. "No. I didn't think I could sit through it. Not in a movie theater." She sighs a little. "A little too close to home for me."

Jarod smiles softly. "It does hit a bit too close at times," he murmurs.

"But. . . the end. . . God the end gives you hope," he whispers.

Miss Parker snuggles into his arms a little, her eyes drifting back to the TV. "Okay. I guess I'll give it a try then."

Jarod leans his head on top of hers. "Good. I think you'll really enjoy it," he murmurs softly.
 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So. . . what are we doing for dinner?" Jarod asks, picking up the phone from the night stand. "Room service, or going out?"

Miss Parker crinkles her face up and shakes her head a little. "I can't make decisions right now."

Jarod nods once. "Room service it is." He grins at her. "If you can't make decisions, going out in public probably isn't the best idea."

She chuckles a little. "Probably not. Besides, if I actually got up to go out I'd have to get dressed. I don't want to do that."

"Oh, I don't know," he murmurs, leaning over and kissing her softly. "Trying out the Nudist Lifestyle doesn't sound all bad." He quirks an eyebrow. "In fact. . . I'll have to try that next Pretend."

Miss Parker shuts her eyes a little. "Oh God." She opens them and shakes her head. "Uh-uh. I don't want other women staring at your body."

Jarod moves, kneeling next to her on the bed. "Jealous?" he whispers in a playful tone. "Of imaginary women that don't really exist yet?"

Miss Parker raises an eyebrow. "No. I just have no desire to get that way."

"You know," he says in a slow, considering tone, "I really adore this possessive streak you have. It makes a guy feel loved."

Miss Parker leans her head up and kisses him gently. "You are."

Jarod nods once and picks the phone up again. "All right - whatta you want?"

"I have no idea." Miss Parker shakes her head a little. "I can't make any decisions right now at all. Surprise me."

Jarod nods, then a gleam enters his eyes. He hits the room service button and waits for someone to answer. "Hello," he begins in a bright voice. "I'd like you to send up two peanut butter and marshmallow sandwiches on white bread with a side of Cheetos." He winks at Miss Parker. "And two bottles of Orange Crush."

Miss Parker falls back on the bed, laughing. She waits till Jarod hangs up the phone then takes a couple of deep breaths. "Oh honey. You remembered," she says in a frighteningly sweet tone.

Jarod leans back from her warily for a moment. "Honey?" he asks, a waver to his voice.

Miss Parker laughs a little harder. "Sorry. Momentary slip into something that I don't want to think about. Won't happen again.
Promise."

Jarod nods. "All right then. I'll take you at your word," he murmurs.  "And yes," he concedes with a smile, "I did remember. I remember everything Leslie."

"Do I even want to envision the looks on the faces of the people in room service when you ordered that?"

Jarod shakes his head slowly. "The terror is too great to imagine," he says softly.

Miss Parker nods and lets out a small sigh. "When are we gonna get in touch with Syd?"

Jarod quirks his lips. "We could always invite him over for peanut butter and marshmallow sandwiches - say we're returning the favor." He smiles a little. "Actually, we could do that. Just say that. You remember what the conversation was like that day."

Miss Parker nods. "Yeah. I really want to see him though."

Jarod sighs. "I do too. I think this would be the only way. The only safe way, that is. He'll get it I think." He looks at her carefully.

"I'll email him right now," he suggests softly.

"Okay," she says in a small voice. "And he'll remember. He doesn't forget either."

Jarod smiles and stands, kissing her cheek as he goes. "Where do you think I got it from?" he murmurs in her ear, walking over to where he'd set the laptop he'd purchased on the road. He flips it on and hooks up to the 'net. He composes a short and to the point email message, with the subject line 'REFUGE'.

Syd,

Wanted to invite you over for peanut butter and marshmallow sandwiches. Have three orange Crush's chilling on ice. See you when you get there,

Nick & Nora

Jarod sends the message and shuts down the computer. "Done," he says simply, sitting back down on the bed Indian style.

Miss Parker smiles and sits up. She places her hands on Jarod's knees. "He is gonna figure that out, right?"

Jarod places his hands over hers. "He's gonna figure it out," Jarod says softly.

Miss Parker nods a little, a small smile on her face. "He always did understand your brain better then anyone else."

Jarod nods slowly. "He was the father I never had in many ways." Jarod sighs deeply. He places a hand on her cheek. "I love you," he whispers softly.

Miss Parker smiles a little and moves one of her hands on top of his on her cheek. "I love you too."

He brings his other hand up, holding her face between them. "I have something to tell you," he murmurs softly. "It's one of those . . . answers."

Miss Parker's eyes narrow a little. "O-kay."

Jarod takes a deep breath. "About five minutes before you called me to tell me there was a child at the Centre, I came upon some. . . critical information. I didn't have time to tell you because my energy was refocused and then . . . I was taken . . . and basically this is the first moment I've really had to think clearly and I realized I hadn't told you yet." He sighs deeply and shakes his head, blinking his eyes. "And I'm rambling. I know you, point blank is preferable to anything else, so . . . brace yourself." He licks his lips. "Sydney is your biological father."

Miss Parker's eyes slowly widen. She blinks hard a couple times, still wide eyed and says nothing.

Jarod looks down at her face, concerned. He rubs his thumbs lightly over her cheeks. "Leslie?" he asks softly. "You still there?"

Miss Parker blinks her eyes a few more times. She shakes her head rather violently. "What?!" she asks sharply.

Jarod smiles a little in bemusement, "Good, you're back," he murmurs. His face sobers. "Sydney is your biological father. You - and your brother - are a result of an affair your mother had with him." He furrows his brows. "Actually, according to what I received, 'affair' is the wrong word. More like . . . great love."

Miss Parker blinks a few more times. She shakes her head a little in confusion. "Sydney's . . . what?!"

Jarod leans forward, kissing her forehead softly. "He's your father," he says in a soft, low tone.

Miss Parker's eyes shut and she takes a couple of deep breaths. "You sure about that?"

Jarod nods slowly. "I compared your DNA. 100% sure. Sydney is your father."

Miss Parker exhales sharply. "I . . . I'm assuming you um. . . have copies of this? Somewhere?"

Jarod opens his mouth, then closes it. "I did," he says, a bit sheepishly. "They're on my computer. Which is at this very moment in New York."

Miss Parker nods a few times, her eyes widening again. "Okay. Go to New York and get them."

Jarod blinks at her few times. "Leslie," he says slowly, "if I go to New York to get them, I will most likely be located by, and brought back to,  the Centre. Nothing - not even proving this to you - is worth that to me."

Shaking her head a little, Miss Parker takes a couple of shallow breaths. "No. Going back to the Centre's not a good idea." She clears her throat. "What information did you receive?"

Jarod swallows deeply. "Both yours and Sydney's DNA on a helpful little code that I could study. I also received a scanned version of a letter your mother wrote to you the day after you were born. I was told that she sealed it and placed it in a safety deposit box that should've been given to you on the day she died. Instead, Mr. Parker got a hold of it. He knows. He's known since then. I. .." he takes a deep breath. "I believe it's why she was killed. I believe it's why he killed her."

Miss Parker's fingernails dig into his lower thigh unconsciously. "He. . killed her?" she asks in a shaky voice.

"I don't have any proof of it," Jarod clarifies. "But. . . I ran a Sim in my own head. He was so angry . . . and so hurt . . . and his ego was bruised. .. she loved someone else. Had a child - two, though he didn't realize it - with someone else. Wanted to be with someone else. It took his already distorted view of reality and tainted it completely. And he killed her. In a rage . . ." Jarod sighs. "That's what I deduced in my own mind, at least."

Miss Parker lets out a sharp breath and glances down at her hand. She quickly moves her fingers off of his leg. "Sorry," she barely manages to whisper.

Jarod takes her hand and places it back on his leg. "It's okay," he whispers equally soft.

Miss Parker curls both of her hands into fasts to stop them from shaking. "So basically," she starts in a soft, tearful voice. "You're telling me that Sydney's my father, and if things happened the way that you worked them out on my head, the man I've been calling Daddy my entire life is yours."

Jarod swallows deeply. He lets out a ragged breath. "Yes," he whispers, his own voice clogging with tears. "That's what I worked out."

Miss Parker blinks back a few tears. She laughs a little ironically. "So basically, life just got more fucked up then it already was. Oh goody."

Jarod sighs and reaches a hand out, placing it on her cheek. "I'm sorry," he murmurs. "I'm sorry to lay this all on you, but. . .. I
thought you needed to know. Now."

Miss Parker shakes her head a little. "Why are you apologizing to me? You're the only person who's ever been honest with me."

Jarod shrugs his lips a little. "You're upset," he murmurs. "And what I told you is the reason you're upset. I'm sorry you're upset."

Miss Parker shakes her head again. "I'm always upset Jarod. There's always something to upset me." She sighs a little. "Who told you? Who sent you all of the information?"

Jarod takes yet another deep breath. "Angelo," he whispers softly on an exhale. "Angelo, aka your brother." He frowns a little at her face. "Can I say I'm sorry?"

Miss Parker lets out a series of short, unsteady breaths. "You can say whatever you want right now."

"I love you," he says, a little unsurely.

She nods a little and leans her forehead against his. "That's a good thing to say."

"What can I do?" he whispers softly. "What can I do for you?"

Shrugging a little, Miss Parker shakes her head. "I don't know."

"What do you want?" he asks. "Anything. Name it."

Her face crumples a little. "Hold me." She whispers in a broken voice.

Jarod wraps both arms around her waist and pulls her against him, moving his hands up her back, then back down, rubbing slowly. "I'm holding you," he whispers into her hair, kissing her temple.

Miss Parker nods a little and wraps her arms tightly around his shoulders. She buries her face in the crook of his neck and starts
quietly sobbing. Jarod continues to rub her shoulder gently. "Shh," he murmurs. "It's all right. I know . . . your entire world just  blew up again. . . I'm familiar with the emotion, and it hurts like hell for awhile and it staggers you . . . but I promise . . . I swear to you it gets better. It gets bearable, then one day, you find that you've learned to live with it." He kisses along her hairline, brushing a couple of tears away with his mouth. "I love you Leslie," he whispers again.

Miss Parker takes a couple of deep breaths and lifts her head, her face ear stained. "I know you do Jarod," she whispers almost inaudibly. "I love you too."

Jarod leans forward and kisses her cheeks softly, kissing along her nose, her chin, until all the tear tracks are gone. "It'll be okay," he promises softly.

Miss Parker forces a fake smile onto her face momentarily. "Eventually. I'm sure it will be."

"Eventually comes sooner then you think it might," he says softly.

She sighs a little. "So Angelo knows? Does Sydney?"

Jarod licks his lips. "From what I can discern from what Angelo sent me. . . Sydney suspects. But he never found out. He was afraid to find out."

"If he knew, he was a liability."

Jarod shakes his head slowly. "If he knew, and he wasn't your father, he couldn't hope anymore." He runs his hand down her cheek softly. "Hope is a very powerful thing," he whispers. "It can save your soul if you let it."

~~~~~

Hope.

I hope a lot. I hoped throughout my entire childhood. I hoped for my parents, I hoped for salvation, I hoped for an end to it all. And then, twenty-six years later, hope won out. And I was free. Sort of.

She's still crying.

It breaks my heart when she cries and she still is. She's been crying for fifteen solid minutes now. God I know I had no choice but to tell her, but . . . I wish there had been another way. Some way for her to know  and not feel like the bottom had just fallen out of her world. For her to learn in a safe way.

For her to have not felt like I did. To not feel the sadness and the total hollowness.

She loves me.

She told me. I am filled with such euphoria at the knowledge, yet at the same time I have such horrible sorrow inside for her. I know what she is going through now. I know exactly. I've experienced it so many times in my life. And I love her, am connected with her so powerfully I feel what she's feeling. My heart is constricted and I find it hard to bring air into my lungs. I am inside her head and what she's going through frightens me. For it is as far away from what my Leslie is that I am worried. Were it not for her incredible strength I would be afraid.

As it is, I am trying to figure out how to help her. Yet I know nothing I could do will help her. I could hold her forever. To some degree, I do. I hold her in my heart, my soul always. I think she does the same with me. I believe she carries me with her always, wherever she is, whatever she's doing. Draws on me for strength when there's nothing left inside herself to fight or stand against the storm. I know I do.

I wrap myself around her tighter, holding her to me. She tightens her arms around me, her body curled up between my bent legs. Sydney is her father. Mr. Parker is mine. My father killed her mother, just as Mr. Fenigore told us. Angelo is her brother, and mine is dead. My mother is dead. And still, she weeps in my arms like a child. Perhaps she is like a child at this moment. I love her. And she loves me.

And that is how I hold onto my hope.

~~~~~

When am I going to stop crying?

Probably when I can't anymore, when I've cried for everyone. I'm not just crying for myself, by any stretch of imagination. I'm crying for Sydney, for the constant living hell his life must've been all these years. For my mother, for keeping such a secret from . . . everyone.

Angelo, for finding all of this information and probably totally understanding it, but being nowhere near comprehension.

And mostly, I'm crying for him. For us. For the systematic breakdown and theft of our innocence. The hellish twists and turns that have been intentionally inflicted . . . the lies and constant betrayals. And that all the family he really has left is a sister he may never find, and the man who's done all of this to him.

He'd argue with me that Syd, me, Angelo are his family. And he'd be right. However I know how important at least knowing your biological family is. There is always a tie, a connection to them, even if neither of you wants it. And for him to know that the man who made his life hell is the man who's fifty percent responsible for his being in this world has got to be downright torturous.

Oh my god, Sydney's my father. He and mom were in love. And she couldn't leave *daddy,* so she met with Syd in secret, being together.

I suppose it gives me comfort that they had this great love, but it tears at me that they had to hide it to the extent of his never actually knowing we were his children. Sydney's . . . my father. I can't quite get that, but part of me totally understands. I'm not sure how that works, but it does. Sydney, the man who has always, *always* been there for me, helped, believed in me, protected me, loved me without ever saying it - is my and Angelo's father.

Oh my god.

Finally, I think the tears are stopping. My eyes were starting to hurt, so good. But I can't stop clinging to him. I feel sort of like a rag doll, too limp and spent of energy to move. But I can lift my head. Which I do. I give him the best smile I can manage, which is nothing. And I kiss him softly, in thanks. And I whisper 'I love you,' because I do. And he needs to hear it as much as I need to say it. Laying my head back down, I close my eyes. I have to rest. To sortthings out. And I need to feel safe while I do. I feel safe with him.

~~~~~

The peanut butter and marshmallow sandwiches sit, untouched, on the room service tray by the bed. The sodas are warm and flat, sitting next to the sandwiches. Jarod and Miss Parker remain curled around one another on the bed. Miss Parker lifts her head and looks at Jarod. "What are we doing tomorrow?"

Jarod shrugs a little, tightening his arms around her. "What would you like to do?" he asks softly.

Miss Parker shrugs a little. "I don't know. I kind of meant are we staying here, or moving on.. . or what?"

Jarod shrugs his lips. "We should probably move on, but we don't have to. We can afford another day here."

"If we leave, where are we gonna go?"

"To meet Sydney. Hope he puts everything together and gets there at some point. We're going to spending a few weeks there, anyway."

Miss Parker nods. "Okay. We should probably leave then."

"I agree," Jarod murmurs. "We'll leave tomorrow afternoon then."

"Okay." Miss Parker lays her head back on Jarod's shoulder. "So what about the rest of tonight?"

Jarod kisses her temple softly. "That is entirely up to you," he murmurs softly.

Miss Parker shakes her head a little. "I still can't make any decisions. The lack of ability got worse."

"All right then," he says definitively. "What *would* make you. . . . .at least less sad?"

Miss Parker bites her lower lip for a minute. "I'm really not sad, Jarod. I'm kind of upset, I'm really confused, but. . . I'm not sad."

Jarod smiles a little. "I understand." He runs his hand down her cheek, then back up to her hair, stroking it softly. "So what'll make you less upset? Less confused?"

"Nothing." Miss Parker takes a couple of deep breaths. "More answers to questions that I don't even know how to ask yet. Probably seeing him. But nothing you can do."

Jarod nods slowly. "When you figure out how to ask those questions, bounce 'em off me. It helps to have a sounding board."

Miss Parker nods. "I will."

"Do you want to pack the room up. . . . eat. . . . watch TV. ...just lie here?"

"Yeah."

Jarod nods once. "Just lie here it is," he murmurs, tightening his hold around her.

Miss Parker tightens her arms around his shoulders. "Thank you," she murmurs softly.

A slight look of confusion crosses Jarod's face. "For what?" he asks in a baffled tone.

A small smile crosses Miss Parker's face. "For being the one to tell me the truth. For sitting here and letting me be a basket case for awhile."

Jarod chuckles a little. "Anytime?" he asks, a little unsure.

Miss Parker lets out a small laugh. "God I hope not. I don't want to do this again."

Jarod sighs. "Hey, just look on the bright side - what else could there be?"

A small look of terror crosses Miss Parker's face. "I don't even want to think what else could be out there."

Jarod kisses her lips softly. "I'm sorry," he murmurs, laughing a little.

Miss Parker slaps his shoulder very lightly. "Stop apologizing."

Jarod puts on a false wounded look. "I'm sorry," he says in a mischievous tone, a small smile curving his lips.

Miss Parker lets out a small growl and pushes him back on the bed. "Stop."

"Oh, I did it again," Jarod says in a false innocent tone. "I'm sorry."

Miss Parker climbs off the bed and grabs for his shirt on the floor. "That's it. I'm gonna go for a walk, cause you're making me insane. And do not say I'm sorry for that."

 Jarod lifts his head from the bed and looks at her for a moment. "I apologize for your sanity or lack there of," he murmurs in a childlike tone.

Miss Parker rolls her eyes. "You're incorrigible. Absolutely fucking incorrigible."

Jarod shrugs one eyebrow at her. "I learned from the best," he murmurs in a beguiling tone.

Dropping the shirt in her hand to the floor, Miss Parker jumps back onto the bed, landing on top of Jarod. "And don't you forget it."

"I thought you were going for a walk," he murmurs, wrapping his arms around her back.

"I was. However I didn't want to leave you for that long."

Jarod raises an eyebrow at her. "I thought I was making you insane," he reminds her, running his hands up and down her back.

Miss Parker leans her head down and kisses him softly. "A little insanity's good. Occasionally."

"A little insanity goes a long way," he says in a knowledgeable tone.

"And you do make me insane," he says softly. "The kind of insane most people can only dream about."

Miss Parker smiles a little. "Well, I try."

~~~~~

Sydney stares at his computer.

Refuge.

I have to meet them. Damn I don't know if I can get away, but I have to.

He knows. She probably knows to, because what he knows, he tells her. I have to make things right before it's too late. Think. Where are they?

Refuge.

Peanut Butter and Marshmallow Sandwiches.

Orange Crush.

A smile lights my face. It's so simple I'd almost gone over it. Yes. I can be there in a couple days.

Refuge Jarod. Refuge Leslie. It's our refuge.

~~~~~

"How much further?" Jarod asks, glancing from the wheel briefly toward Miss Parker, then back to the road.

Miss Parker glances at the map. "Thirty miles."

Jarod nods. "We've made good time."

Miss Parker nods. "Yeah. We managed to avoid the traffic."

"Not there's that much traffic going into Cambria," he murmurs.

Miss Parker smiles. "No, but there is through all the cities on the way in."

"True," he murmurs in acknowledgment. "So, which quaint little restaurant Syd told us about do you want to eat at tonight?"

Miss Parker shrugs. "I don't know. I'm not sure whether I'm in the mood for seafood or steak. How about you?"

Jarod grins. "I just want to go to the old fashioned bakery/ice cream lace/candy store," he murmurs. "I've been dreaming about it since I was eight."

Miss Parker laughs. "For dinner?"

Jarod inclines his head a little. "Yeah," he answers in the same tone she'd used.

Miss Parker nods a little, sighing. "Okay. Whatever. Just this once."

"Yes Mother," he murmurs, turning into Cambria. "I made reservations at the hotel on the beach closest to the town." He grins. "We can walk."

"Oh goody," she says in a decidedly unenthusiastic tone.

"I knew you'd be thrilled," he says sincerely. He pulls the car into the hotel parking lot. "Come on - look at this breathtaking view." He stands and opens his arms wide, encompassing the entire scenery.

Miss Parker shuts the car door and slowly spins around three hundred and sixty degrees. "He described this place really well."

Jarod nods, looking around. "He did. He had to. He knew what it meant to us." He looks her in the eye over the hood of the car. "He gave us hope."

Miss Parker smiles at him and nods. "Yes he did. Come on. Let's go check in."

~~~~~

"What is a 'lemonhead?'"

Miss Parker looks at Jarod, an amused expression on her face. "You think I know these things?"

Jarod shrugs. "Lets get a half a pound of them then, find out."

Miss Parker laughs. "Have I told you that you are totally incorrigible?"

Jarod purses his lips and leans his head back, considering. "Yes," he says finally. "Once or twice."

Smiling, Miss Parker walks over behind Jarod. "They have strawberry licorice. I haven't had that in years." She says, her voice taking on a child-like tone for a moment.

Jarod smiles. "I've never tried strawberry licorice." His eyes light up.

"Pez."

"Pez . . . " Miss Parker shakes her head a little. "What is it with Pez anyway?"

Jarod shrugs a little. "Something left over from the childhood I never had." He murmurs softly, reaching out to pick up a Garfield Pez dispenser.

Miss Parker smiles softly. "Okay. that's a good reason."

Jarod looks at her. "Would you like a Wonder Woman?" he asks, holding out the dispenser.

Miss Parker swallows back laughter. "Oh sure, why not."

Jarod smiles like a little boy. "Cool. What else do we want?"

Miss Parker looks around. "Real food." She murmurs. "God, real food."

Jarod smiles gently at her. "Steak or seafood?" he asks in a melancholy tone.

"If we can just go by a store, I'll be fine." Miss Parker smiles. "I just need carbos. And protein."

Jarod nods. "All right. Trip to the store it is."

Miss Parker smiles, nodding a little. "Good. Now, do we need . . . " she grimaces. "any more sugar?"

"No one ever *needs* more sugar." Jarod says in a mischievous tone. "But if you're ready to go, we can."

"Only if you're done. I don't want to rush you." Miss Parker holds up the bags in her hand. "I have my licorice and my rocky road, I'm fine."

Jarod smiles. "I'm ready to go." He holds out his arm. "Shall we be off then milady?" he asks in a gallant tone.

Miss Parker places her hand on his elbow. "Oh, yes, we shall."

Jarod brings her hand to his mouth, kissing her knuckles softly. "Twas a commendable effort, my love."

Miss Parker grins a little. "I tired, my heart's just not in it. Not right now."

"But maybe later?" Jarod asks a little hopefully. "I'd like to play with you Leslie, it could be fun."

Miss Parker kisses his cheek. "Count on it."

~~~~~

Miss Parker paces in front of the bed in the hotel. She looks at Jarod. "How long do you think it'll take for him to get here?"

Jarod shrugs a little. "I mean this in the kindest way, but he'll get here when he gets here." He sighs. "If he could get away from the Centre."

Miss Parker sighs. "He had to have gotten away. He would have . . . found some way to tell us otherwise."

Jarod nods slowly. "You're right."

Miss Parker resumes her pacing. "I guess I should calm down, huh?"

Jarod looks at her carefully. "Now if you did that, you wouldn't be you. And I love you."

Miss Parker pauses and smiles a little at Jarod. "I didn't say I was going to, just that I probably should. I don't could if I tried."

Jarod smiles a little at her. "Would you like me to help you try or would you like to just keep on doing it?"

"Oh, please, help."

Jarod crooks a finger at her, beckoning, a dangerous almost 'fuck-me' look in his eyes. Miss Parker walks over to stand in front of him, an expectant look on her face. Jarod reaches out a hand and takes hers, pulling her down next to him on the bed. He tucks an arm under her legs and flips her up, onto the bed, her back facing him. He lays a hand against the side of her neck and leans his head next to her ear. "Just breathe." He whispers softly, both hands beginning to rub her shoulders.

Miss Parker leans her head back a little and lets out a small moan. "That feels so good."

Jarod moves his thumbs down her spine and back up to her neck, kneading the base with his knuckles. "I'm glad." He murmurs. "Just close your eyes and pretend there's no tension for a few minutes."

Miss Parker's eyes drift shut. "I can do half of that." she says with a small chuckle.

Jarod leans his head forward, resting his cheek against hers, still rubbing her shoulders. "Is there anything else I can do for you?" he whispers softly.

"I don't think so." Miss Parker mumbles in a soft voice.

Jarod sighs. "You'll let me know, right?"

"Always."

"You want to head down to the cove?" he asks her softly. "Just spend the rest of the day there?"

Miss Parker turns her head and opens one eye. "Okay." she says in a offhanded voice.

Jarod tugs her shoulders back softly. "You want to change?"

Miss Parker looks down at the denim skirt and his shirt she's wearing. "No."

Jarod pats her knee. "Then let's go."

"Okay." Miss Parker sits up and rolls off the bed into a standing position. She holds out a hand for Jarod.

Jarod takes her hand and kisses the palm. "You know that I love you." he says in a low tone. "You know that I will be with you every step of the way, no matter what."

Miss Parker nods and leans down, kissing his forehead. "I know." she whispers.

~~~~~

Miss Parker sits on the blanket, drinking a bottle of iced tea, watching Jarod play in the water. Jarod dives through the waves and coasts in on one, heading to shore. He stands and jogs up the beach, falling down next to her on the blanket, breathing heavily. She smiles at him. "Have fun?"

Jarod turns his head toward her with great effort. "Yeah," he groans, his head flattening against the sand.

Miss Parker smiles. "Good." she runs a hand down his chest. "I hope you didn't re-injure anything."

Jarod takes a couple of deep breaths. "I may . . . have killed my lungs."

Miss Parker chuckles. "I highly doubt it." She offers him a bottle of iced tea. "Thirsty?" Jarod nods vigorously. Miss Parker sighs a little. "You can't move, can you?"

Jarod wheezes a couple times. "No," he says reluctantly.

"See, this is why I didn't want you in there that long." Propping his head up in her lap, Miss Parker opens the bottle and holds it to his lips.

Jarod wraps his mouth around the bottle, sucking greedily. Miss Parker tips the bottle up a little. "Slowly."

Jarod nods, slowing down a bit. He removes the bottle from his mouth, turning his head into her stomach and taking deep breaths. "That was fun," he says in a strained voice. "I've never played in the ocean before."

Miss Parker leans down and kisses his cheek. "I'm glad you had fun. However, you need to take it easy until you're a hundred percent again."

Jarod nods in agreement. "Where are my clothes?" he murmurs against her stomach. "I should probably be dressed before someone happens upon us."

Miss Parker reaches behind her and grabs his boxers. "You should at least have these on."
 

Nodding, Jarod reaches up a weak hand and takes them from her, lifting his legs, tossing his boxers onto his feet, wiggling them down to his hips. He forces himself up, pulling the boxers to his waist, then crumbling again, his head in her lap. He wraps both arms around her waist and lays his cheek against her stomach. "There, now I'm decent," he murmurs.

Miss Parker chuckles a little and brushes a few strands of hair back from his forehead. "Well, at least an improvement."

Jarod leans his head up, opening one eye to look at her. "What?" he asks, glancing down at his body, then back at her. "You don't think I'm decent?"

Miss Parker laughs. "It wasn't your state of dress or lack there of I was referring to."

An eyebrow raises at her. "And just what, my dear, were you referring to?" he asks in a probing tone.

Miss Parker very lightly drums her fingers across his forehead. "Oh nothing," she says with childlike innocence in her voice.

Jarod snickers. "Right." He closes his eye again and leans his face back into her stomach, kissing her skin through the gap between buttons on her denim shirt. "Since you aren't going to tell me what you meant," he murmurs against her skin, "why don't you tell me a dream. Any dream you've ever had."

Miss Parker raises an eyebrow. "You want to hear about one of my dreams?" she asks in a flabbergasted tone.

Jarod runs one of his hands along her waist, unbuttoning the bottom two buttons on her shirt. "Mmhhmm," he murmurs softly.

"You mean like, dream, dream? Like asleep dream?"

Jarod shrugs a little, placing soft kisses over her skin. "Whichever you'd rather share," he murmurs. "Whichever jumps to mind first."

Miss Parker shrugs. "God, the last time I had any of any variety I was so young. At least any worth remembering."

"How young?" Jarod asks softly, winding both arms around her lower back.

Miss Parker twirls a small lock of his hair around one of her fingers. "Very young."

Jarod nuzzles her belly button with his nose and shrugs. "So tell me about one. I don't care if you were five - I want to hear it."

Miss Parker quirks her lips a little. "When I was younger, my dreams were always basically nonsensical bullshit. Lots of colors and open space and magical little creatures running around because I was always at the Centre. And I wanted to get away from it."

"For the first three years I was at the Centre," Jarod murmurs softly, "I only dreamed in black and white. And I never dreamed about myself, because I didn't know what I looked like. My dreams were totally nonsensical and had no baring in reality." He brushes his lips against the top of her belly softly. "I didn't understand what any of them meant until I got older and I read a book about dreams."

Miss Parker raises an eyebrow. "What did they mean?"

Jarod laughs, a little bitterly. "That I was lonely, scared and going through an identity crisis." He sighs. "Pretty accurate, huh?"

Miss Parker leans her head down and kisses his temple. "Frighteningly so," she murmurs softly.

Jarod blinks a few times, then moves his face back to her stomach. "And your dreams," he pronounces softly, "prove that you are an imaginative, bright beautiful soul."

Miss Parker runs her fingers through his hair. "You can tell all that from what little I told you?"

Jarod shakes his head a little, brushing his lips along her skin as he does. "No. I just know you."

~~~~~

The sun had set almost an hour ago. Jarod still has his head in Miss Parker's lap. She still strokes his hair, both of them now staring out at the water. "You want me to go get the second blanket from the car?" Jarod asks softly, still dressed in only his boxers.

Miss Parker shakes her head. "I'm fine. You can go get it if you want, but I'm okay."

Jarod shakes his head. "No, I was just offering for you." He runs his hand up to hers, twining their fingers together. "Are you okay?"

Miss Parker squeezes his hand gently. "Yeah."

"Are you lying?" he asks in a patronizing tone.

Miss Parker sighs. "Probably."

"He will be here," Jarod promises, his voice sure.

Miss Parker nods. "And when he is, I'll be fine."

Jarod brings their joined hands to his mouth, kissing her knuckles softly. "Of course you will," he murmurs. "You're Leslie Parker."

"Is this a private beach, or can anyone join you?" Sydney asks softly from behind them.

Miss Parker spins her head around. "You're finally here," she says in a relieved tone, a smile on her face.

Sydney nods wearily. "Yes. Six days of traveling, and I'm finally here."

Jarod slowly sits up and turns toward Sydney. "Hello Syd," he says warmly. "How was the trip?"

"Long," Sydney groans.

Miss Parker smiles a little. "Well, would you like to join us? We've got food and iced tea."

Sydney nods a little. "I'd love to." He sits down next to Miss Parker, facing Jarod. "So how was the drive for you two?"

Miss Parker nods a little. "Long."

Jarod nods in agreement. "Long sums it up."

Sydney looks at Jarod carefully. "Are you all right?" he asks in a tight voice, his gaze glancing over Jarod's body.

Jarod nods slowly. "For now Syd," he murmurs. "Physically at least."

Sydney shuts his eyes. "I'm so sorry Jarod," he murmurs. "So very sorry."

Jarod shakes his head. "Don't be. This wasn't your fault. You helped me.

You helped me get away. You did what I knew you always wanted to do when I was a child. Thank you Syd."

Sydney leans forward and places a hand on Jarod's shoulder. "I love you Jarod," he murmurs softly. He turns his head to Miss Parker. "I love both of you."

Miss Parker swallows back tears and looks at Jarod. "Can you go get the other blanket?" she asks with a pointed look on her face.

Jarod blinks once, then nods slowly. "Sure," he murmurs softly. He kisses her cheek gently, then stands, placing a hand on Sydney's shoulder, squeezing softly as he walks toward the car.

Miss Parker shuts her eyes and takes a couple of deep breaths. She opens them and glances at Sydney before focusing her gaze out at the water. "Did you love my mother Syd?" she asks in a quiet voice.

Sydney swallows, also staring out at the water. "Very much," he murmurs in a husky voice.

Miss Parker's eyes shut again. "And she loved you?"

"I believe that she did," Sydney confirms softly.

Swallowing hard, Miss Parker blinks her eyes and forces herself to look at Sydney. "Did you know?" she asks quietly.

Sydney meets her eyes. "Not for sure, no. Not biologically speaking, anyway."

Miss Parker nods. "Angelo sent Jarod something. Something with proof."

Sydney nods slowly. "I assumed as much," he murmurs. "Angelo had been. . muttering about something before I left. It makes more sense now."

Miss Parker takes a deep, shaky breath. "I suppose it's kind of fitting that he was the first one of the three of us to know for sure."

Sydney nods slowly. "He knows so much more then anyone could ever fathom."

"Yes he does." Miss Parker shuts her eyes again. "I've been trying to make all of this make some kind of sense. . . . but nothing has."

Sydney shakes his head. "Don't try to make it make sense. You'll go mad. Just. . . . accept it for all its total and utter insanity."

A sad smile crosses Miss Parker's face. "The ironic thing. . . is that it's probably the most sane part of my life."

"My being your father is the most sane part of your life?" he asks, a bit shocked. "My poor, dear girl," he murmurs.

Miss Parker blinks her eyes hard a few times, trying to push back tears, a few of them falling to her cheeks anyways. "When you compare it to everything I've believed, everything I've accepted, you being my father is truly the most sane and simple part of my life."

Sydney reaches over and places a hand over hers. "I suppose that's what Daddy's are here for." He squeezes her hand. "I'm sorry I wasn't here before. But I am here now."

Miss Parker's entire face crumples into a sob. She nods a little. "You're here when I need you," she chokes out around another sob. "Just like always."

Sydney leans forward and wraps his arms around her, holding her to him, and stroking her hair gently. "I'm here," he murmurs. "I love you Leslie."

Miss Parker wraps her arms around his shoulders and nods her head a little against his neck. "I love you too," she whispers around tears.

Jarod slowly approaches them, staying back, not wanting to intrude. He watches them for a moment, blinking back tears, both happy and sad. After a minute, Miss Parker lifts her head and glances back at Jarod. She smiles a little shakily at him. "You just gonna stand there?"

Jarod nods a little. "Yeah," he murmurs. "I was." He gestures. "I didn't. . . I wanted to make sure. . . I didn't want to barge in on
anything."

Miss Parker nods a little, loosening her grip around Sydney's shoulders.

"I think it's safe to come back down here."

"You're sure? I can go away, come back later," he offers in an odd tone.

Miss Parker looks at him scrutinizingly. She glances at Sydney and stands up, walking over to Jarod. She brings her hands up and cups his cheeks. "What's wrong?"

Jarod shakes his head. "Nothing," he says unconvincingly.

Miss Parker raises an eyebrow. "Don't lie to me."

Jarod shakes his head a little more. "You have enough to deal with right now," he says in a tense tone. "You don't need this, trust me."

Miss Parker sighs a little. "You and I are talking when we get back to the hotel."

Jarod closes his eyes. "No good can come of anything I have to say," he murmurs softly.

Miss Parker sighs again and shakes her head a little. "Doesn't matter."

Jarod shrugs. "Fine," he says in a barely audible voice. He takes the blanket and holds it out to her. "Are you cold?" he asks in a concerned tone.

She shakes her head. "No. I was just trying not to be rude in needing a moment alone with Syd."

Jarod laughs a little, no humor in the sound. "Yeah. Just a moment," he mutters under his breath. "Doesn't matter. I'm cold." He wraps the blanket around his shoulders and sits down in the sand, looking out at the water.

Miss Parker stands, looking between Jarod and Sydney. She takes a deep, unsteady breath. "It's getting late and I know we're all tired. Why don't we head back to the hotel?"

Sydney nods. "That sounds like an excellent suggestion," he murmurs, looking at Jarod in concern.

Jarod shrugs. "Sounds fine," he says in a numb voice.

Miss Parker nods and walks back over to the blanket where Sydney's sitting, putting food and everything back into the picnic basket.

~~~~~

Jarod walks into their hotel room like a robot, sitting down on the edge of the bed, folding his hands in his lap and casting his head down, staring at the floor. Miss Parker walks in behind him, shutting the door. She moves in front of him and kneels down on the floor. She looks up at his face. "What's going on?" she asks in a scared tone.

"That last piece of innocence the Centre had left in me?" Jarod asks her softly. "It's dead," he replies in a monotone voice.

Miss Parker furrows her eyebrows. "What happened?"

"I used the cell phone to call Mr. Broots. I was going to let him know Sydney was safe." Jarod shakes his head. "When will they finally have taken enough from me?" he asks in an aching voice.

Miss Parker brings her hands up to his face, cradling it gently. "What happened Jarod?" she asks in the same soft, scared voice.

"They killed her too. They killed my sister." Jarod blinks back tears.

"I never even got to meet her. And she was all I had left as far as blood family went. And they killed her too." He shakes his  head. "Why?" he asks in a broken voice.

Miss Parker moves onto the bed and pulls Jarod into her arms, cradling him. "I don't know why baby. I don't know why they do the things that they do."

Jarod pulls away from her and stands, walking around the room angrily. "I guess ruining my life wasn't enough," he mutters. "They had to kill everyone I ever loved, everyone who ever loved me." He looks at her, eyes wide. "It obviously wasn't enough that they steal me from my parents. Correction - that my father steal me from my mother," he bites out in an angry tone. "He then has to kill her. To kill my sister. To kill my brother." Jarod takes a deep, shuddering breath. "My entire family has been taken away except for the one man who is responsible for it all. Is that irony?" he asks in a bitter, self mocking voice.

Miss Parker stands up and walks over next to Jarod. "I don't know why this happened. Why any of this happened. But Jarod, I'm still here. And I know it doesn't make up for everything else, but I love you, and noone is taking me away from you."

"But don't you see?" he asks in a broken voice. "They have. So many times. They took you away in a hundred different ways." He shakes his head unsteadily. "They take everyone away from me. Or me away from them.

It doesn't matter. They will never leave me alone. And they will never stop hurting the people I love. And it will always be partially my fault." He looks at her. "They will take you away from me," he says in a lost voice.

Miss Parker shakes her head violently. "They will never take us away from each other again."

"You said that to me when we were ten years old," he reminds her softly.

"Same words after the month long separation they inflicted as punishment for our being in areas we weren't allowed. And they took you away from me. Emotionally. Physically. And it took almost fifteen years to get you back," he says in a scared voice.

"When I was ten, I didn't know how to fight them, and how to stand up to them, and how to avoid them. They are not going to take me away again. And they are not going to take you away again. I won't let them."

"Do you know what scared me most of all? What I think has truly broken something inside of me?" he asks her in a frighteningly calm voice.

Miss Parker lays her hand on his shoulder. "What?" she asks softly.

"When Broots told me . . . when I knew she was dead. . . I thought about what would happen if they caught
us . . . . if they brought me back to the Centre." He turns his head, looking her in the eye. "I wasn't afraid," he murmurs. "I felt
absolutely nothing at the thought."

Miss Parker shuts her eyes tightly for a moment, and then opens them again. She moves her hand from his shoulder to his chest, over his heart. "I know something inside you broke when he told you what happened. Jarod. . . It's not so far broken that it can't be fixed. It may seem like it is, but it's not."

Jarod takes a few unsteady breaths. "But I don't know how to fix it," he says in a voice laced with unshed, angry tears. "I don't know . . . God . . . Leslie I've never been this angry before. Never."

Miss Parker nods a little. "I know baby. You need to let it out. It's just gonna get worse if you keep it all inside. Trust me, I know."

Jarod shakes his head. "I can't let this out," he says in a low, barely audible voice. "Not with you around."

"Why not?" Miss Parker asks softly.

"Because I don't want to take anything out on you that isn't your fault," he says to her sincerely. "You already have a pretty  damn good case of guilt and self loathing going - I will not add to it."

Miss Parker shakes her head. "You need to get this out Jarod. And you need to do it somewhere safe. Where is more safe then with me around?"

Jarod shakes his head. "Nowhere," he murmurs brokenly. "But. . . if I say something mean or petty . . . I'm sorry."

Miss Parker shakes her head a little. "I have a pretty good idea of what to expect to come out of your mouth. I can just let it brush off."

Jarod takes as deep of breaths as he can. "No. If I say something that hurts, you tell me. Because things have been brushed off long enough. They have brushed things off my entire life. Kid you want for a lab rat has a mother who loves him? Brush it off. Kid gets out, decides he likes freedom, but you want him back. You're keeping him prisoner against his will? Brush it off," he says in a low whisper. "Kid pisses you off too much - kill his mother. Who cares that someone who works for you has already killed his brother? Brush it off." His entire body shakes with anger. "I had one. . . .one person who was actually linked to me by blood. . one person who's only sin is that she was Jarod's sister. . . . But she's a causality. In the way. Preventing Jarod from seeing the error of his ways and coming back. Murder? Brush it off."

He makes fists with his hands and paces around the room like a caged animal. "So the kid is locked up in a tiny little room and only let out long enough to do what they want of him to do, then put back. So he finds one little piece of light - one thing that makes it a little more bearable. A friend. But no - for some reason, he's not allowed to be happy. He's not allowed to have one small piece of anything real." Jarod shuts his eyes for a moment. "So they remove her. Disallow any contact between them. Tell him his parents are dead."

Jarod takes a few more breaths, still angrily pacing. "Then he gets out. He escapes. But do they leave him alone? No. They send his long ago ray of light to hunt him down and bring him back." Jarod looks her in the eye, his own wild and full of rage. "You hunted me down like a wild animal for three years. Because they said so. Because they didn't know how - didn't want to - leave me alone. To let me have a life. Because when it all comes down to it, I'm nothing but a lab rat. A glorified one, at that. I do their Sims, and they're happy. I may have been miserable, but at least everyone who loved me was still alive."

He takes a series of shallow, hysterical breaths. "And the kicker - the fucking monster behind it all is my father." He laughs bitterly. "The man who I learned to hate, who you called Daddy your entire life is my father. And he killed my mother. .. . he killed my sister . . . he ordered my brother's death . . . He.  . . he's my father. His blood runs through my veins . . . and he did that to me," he whispers in a low, rage filled voice. "He not only allowed that to happen to me, but he fully supported and ordered it." Jarod shakes his head. "You get a fairy tale happy ending with Sydney, and I get Mr. Hyde minus the Dr. Jeckyl component." A few tears run down his cheeks and he lets out a cross between a sob and a scream. "God damnit they took way my dreams. How could they just steal my dreams that effortlessly?" he asks a destroyed tone, sinking to his knees on the floor.

Miss Parker drops to her knees on the floor and crawls over next to Jarod. She puts a hand on his cheek, her thumb rubbing his skin gently. "Is there anything else you want to get out?"

Jarod nods his head slowly. "I want to kill him," he says in a low, cold voice. "I want to kill my own father." His eyes are haunted and dead.

Miss Parker takes a couple of shallow breaths. "I know you do."

"I used to be so angry at you," he murmurs, shifting gears. "So angry I could barely see straight." He moves his hands up, cupping her cheeks gently. "But even as angry as I got, I always loved you so much. And I used to sit up at night and pray you loved me too. Because I wasn't sure. For years I wasn't sure."

Miss Parker brings her other hand up to his face. "I do Jarod," she whispers. "I do love you."

Jarod wraps his arms around her waist and lays his head on her shoulder.

"I had never hated before today," he says in a dead voice. "He finally did it - he finally made me hate him."

Miss Parker turns her head and kisses her forehead softly. "It's a pretty strong emotion. And it can be pretty hard to deal with when you're not used to it."

"It hurts so much," he whimpers softly. "It hurts so fucking much I feel like my chest is caving in. I can't think, I can only feel this
devastation and this pure white hot rage. I can't feel anything else," he whispers. "Nothing else."

Miss Parker tightens her arms around his back. "Hatred is stifling. It's the emotion I lived on for a very long time." She kisses his forehead again. "But I promise you, you can get passed it. It won't be easy, it may not be tomorrow, but you can get past it."

Jarod leans his head back, looking her in the eye. "I never thought I would miss the feeling of pure terror that ran through my body at the mere thought of being locked up there again. But I miss it. I long for it. Because right now, a sweeper team could throw me into that little cage and I wouldn't care."

Miss Parker takes a deep, shaky breath. "Don't long for the terror to come back Jarod," she murmurs. "Just long for the feeling to come back. Any other feeling. Preferably the one of love, but take what you can get."

Jarod stares at her for a moment, bringing his hands up, tracing her face softly with his fingertips. "I do love you so much," he murmurs softly. "It's one of those things I just. . .. know, like I know my name is Jarod. But Leslie. . . ." he looks at her beseechingly, his eyes begging for something undefinable. "I can't even remember my own name."

Miss Parker brings one of her hands up to his face, brushing the hair off his forehead. "Your name is Jarod," she says with assurance in her voice.

Jarod nods slowly. He looks into her eyes. "My name is Jarod," he says in a sure voice.

Miss Parker nods. "Can I do anything?" she asks a little shakily.

"Can you help me remember how to feel anything besides hate?" he asks in a lost tone.

Miss Parker sighs. "I can try. I can't promise you any miracles, but I can sure as hell try."

Jarod nods. "I don't know if I believe in miracles anymore," he murmurs in a pained tone.

Miss Parker nods. "They can get lost."

Jarod takes a deep, shuddering breath. "So is that it?" he asks softly. "Have I lost my miracles?"

Miss Parker shakes her head. "God no Jarod." She leans forward and kisses his lips gently. "There's no way you lost them."

"How can you be so sure?" he asks, a little desperately.

Miss Parker places her hand over his heart. "Because they're so much a part of you, that if you lost them. . ." she shuts her eyes for a moment. "I would've lost you."

Jarod looks at her carefully. "Don't be too sure you haven't," he murmurs in a dead voice.

Miss Parker takes one of his hands and places it over her heart. "I'd know," she says softly. "I'd feel it."

Jarod keeps his hand over her heart, feeling it beat against his palm. "I'll take your word for it," he murmurs.

Miss Parker leans her head forward and kisses him again. "Do." She smiles a little. "I know what I'm talking about."

Jarod takes a few breaths. He moves his thumb in tiny, unconscious circles over her heart. "You usually do," he murmurs softly.

Miss Parker smiles a little. "I try to." She kisses him again, a little harder. "And I love you Jarod."

Jarod moves his hand down to her breast, cupping it softly. "I remember how much I loved you," he murmurs, almost distractedly. "How it consumed me." Miss Parker moves one of her hands to the buttons on her shirt and unbuttons them
quickly. She lifts his hand for a moment, flips the material off of her body, and places his hand back down on her bare breast. "It's a start," she murmurs.

Jarod slowly leans forward and kisses her mouth softly, then a little harder. He cups one breast in his palm, his other hand skimming up her rib cage, cupping her other breast. Miss Parker kisses him back and runs her hands down his torso to his waist, curling her fingers around it. Jarod moves his mouth from hers, trailing his lips over her jaw to her throat. He moves his mouth down her collar bone, burying his face in the skin between her breasts. Miss Parker reaches one hand behind her, unzipping her skirt and sliding it off of her hips. She kicks it to the side and brings her hands to the waist band of his boxers, pushing them down his hips. Jarod moves one of his hands from her breast, covering with his mouth. He runs his lips over her entire breast softly, his eyes closed as though in a dream. He places his lips over her nipple and sucks, his tongue moving in counter point to the suction. Miss Parker gets his boxers the rest of the way off and moves one of her hands up his back to
his hair, stroking it gently.

She lays back on the floor, pulling him back with her. Her free hand reaches down for his erection, caressing it. Jarod moves his lips over her skin to her stomach, brushing his mouth back and forth, then to her hips, then back up her body, placing his lips around her other breast and giving it the same attention he'd given the first. Miss Parker strokes her hand down his erection. She lifts her head and kisses the top of his gently. She lays her head back down. "Fuck me Jarod," she murmurs.

Jarod runs both his hands down her sides to her hips, lifting them and setting his body between them. He slips inside her with one hard thrust. He leans his head against her shoulder. Miss Parker wraps her arms around his back. She squeezes her thighs around his hips. Jarod moves his hips slowly, thrusting in and out of her in an almost mechanical rhythm that turns almost frenzied, then goes back to being mechanical. He keeps his head on her shoulder, his arms around her lower back. Miss Parker runs her hands up and down his back gently. She brings one of them up to his hair, stroking it. She turns her lips to his ear and whispers to him. "Harder."

Jarod moves faster, increasing the pressure of his strokes, pounding into her harder. Miss Parker arches her back off the floor. She tightens her hand in his hair. She smiles a little and kisses his ear. Jarod's lips move against her shoulder in unintelligible words as he moves harder and faster into her, keeping his arms firmly around her lower back. Miss Parker moves her hips against his, wrapping one of her legs around his lower back. She holds onto him tightly with her arm and kisses his temple. Jarod continues a frenzied, completely graceless thrusting. His mouth remains over her shoulder, moving every so often, then being still again. His hands move a little under her back, stroking her skin softly. Miss Parker lets out a few soft moans, trailing her fingers up and down his back. She tightens her leg around him and whispers, "I love you Jarod."

Jarod thrusts into her even harder, faster, tightening his arms around her back, his mouth moving against her shoulder again. Miss Parker tightens her body and leans her head back against the floor. She lets out a groan and comes rather violently, shuddering in his arms. Jarod thrusts into her for a few more moments, then bites down on her shoulder softly, coming hard, his arms tightening around her back as he collapses on top of her. Miss Parker stays wrapped tightly around him. She turns her head to the side, trying to catch her breath and places a soft kiss against the side of his face. "I love you."

Jarod slowly lifts his head from her shoulder. A few tears are running down his cheeks. "I love you too," he whispers in a slightly lost voice. "I love you."

Miss Parker moves her hand from his hair to his face, brushing away his tears. She kisses his forehead. "Do you feel any better?"

"I feel. . . . I feel. . ." he trails off for a moment, looking into her eyes. He smiles the tiniest, saddest of smiles. "I feel," he says simply.

Miss Parker nods. She wraps her arms back around his back, holding him to her. "Good."

"Am I too heavy?" he asks softly, already leaning his head back down against her shoulder.

"No." She kisses his forehead. "You can stay right there."

Jarod nods slowly, his eyes closing, his cheek pressed over her heart. "Okay," he whispers.

~~~~~

It's about an hour before sunrise. Jarod and Miss Parker are in the same position they were last night. Jarod's head is still pillowed against her shoulder, his arms wrapped tightly around her lower back. His breathing is deep and even, his body relaxed like an exhausted child's. Miss Parker runs her hands up and down his back, her eyes fixed on the ceiling. After a minute, she turns her head a little and kisses the top of Jarod's head. "You awake?" she asks quietly.

"Depends on how you classify awake," he murmurs in a low tone.

Miss Parker smiles a little and kisses the top of his head. "Whatever state you're in, it'll do."

Jarod moves his face against her shoulder. "I don't know what state I'm in," he murmurs in a raspy voice. "The only reason I know where I am is because you're here."

Miss Parker nods a little, taking a couple of deep breaths. "I know baby. Is there anything I can do?"

Jarod shakes his head slowly. "You've already done so much," he murmurs. "More then I have a right to hope for."

"That doesn't answer my question." She brushes some of his hair back from his forehead. "Is there anything I can do?"

"I feel numb Leslie," he mumbles against her shoulder. "I feel completely cut off and alone and numb even though I know you're right here, I feel you right here," he whispers in a lost voice.

Miss Parker runs her hands up to his face, cupping his cheeks. "I won't even pretend to know what you're going through. But I promise you . . . it'll get better."

"I slept for an hour last night," he mumbles. "And as soon as I was asleep, I started to dream. The dreams were every Sim I ever ran. From beginning to end. Part of me was horrified . . . but the rest of me . . . most of me. . . . didn't care. Didn't respond to the terror." He looks at her, his eyes filled with tears. "What's wrong with me? What did they do?"

Miss Parker kisses his forehead. "They shattered your illusions. They shattered the part of you that sees things as wonderful and magical. That's what they did."

"I want it back," he murmurs in a broken voice. "I want my illusions back. . I want to see things as wonderful, and magical," he whispers.

"I want them back too." Miss Parker blinks back a few tears. "There was no reason or logic to why they did this. And if I could fix it, I would."

"And all the King's horses, and all the king's men," Jarod mumbles, lying his head back down against her breast.

"Hadn't met me," Miss Parker whispers, tightening her arms around his shoulders.

~~~~~

I don't know what to do. I was afraid he would do this after I got him out of the Centre, I expected it then. But he didn't. I know it had a lot to do with the need to find his sister. And now he's lost her too.

What the hell are they doing to him? Are they just that sick that they are determined to make every person who matters to him disappear? How can I ask that, of course they are. I know how they think. Shit, I thought like them for years. But there was always a small voice that objected to what I was doing. None of them have that voice.

I know he didn't want to tell me this, didn't want to break down in front of me, not now. He wanted me to be happy with Sydney, not here, holding him while he's so lost. But he knows me, he knew I would get this out of him, and that I would stay with him, no matter what. And I know he's beating himself up for it. I wish I could stop him. I would do anything to stop him, to make him understand completely that it doesn't bother me, that I want to be here for him, that loving him involves a willingness to take on his pain, his heartache, and to be his lifeline. I never thought I'd do that for someone, but I want to for him. And I want him to accept it without tearing himself up because of it. He's got too much else going on.

I don't know what to do for him. I want to talk to Sydney, but I won't leave Jarod. I need Syd's help though, I don't know how to reach him any better than I already am.

He's so lost. So hurt. So scared. But he doesn't acknowledge that. He just feels the anger. And I know that he needs to feel the anger, but he's not used to it, and it's going to hurt him so much more.

And all I can do is love him.

~~~~~

Pain. Aching, searing pain.

Not physical. No, the physical pain has been gone for. . . . a day now. This pain is purely emotional. And it is staggering. More powerful, more damaging, MORE then the physical. A few broken ribs? Oh well. Bruises down my back? Whatever. My sister's dead? Agony. A feeling so deep, so raw I believe I may never breathe again.

*Thump.*

But I am breathing. Deeply. Evenly. My head is pressed against her breast. Safety. Security. These are words I know should be feeling now. But I can't. Instead all I feel is anger. Rage. Self loathing. Hate. I hate him, the man who would be Daddy. I hate  them, those who work at that house of horrors. I hate myself. I hate myself for being the reason they're dead - my mother, my brother, my sister, all dead because I'm a genius. Because I knew too much. Because I had to get away. Because I needed my God damn freedom.

And Leslie. I hate myself for doing this to her. My God she's been through enough. She needs someone who can take care of her, who can help her through her hell, and own agony. She's finally found one bit of joy, of peace. She's learned Sydney is her father. And instead of giving her a few moments to enjoy it, to bask in it, I fall apart. My eternally cursed life rears its ugly head once more and ruins another moment of joy.

*Thump.*

I can bring so much peace, so much happiness, so much healing to strangers. But when it comes to the people I love, all I seem to bring is pain, and sadness. To them and myself.

I have refused to believe that simple truth for so long. Refused to believe that maybe I'm just never meant to be happy. But when all I can feel is hate and rage I don't know what else to believe.

I have lost myself. I have lost my miracles.

*Thump.*

I had hope. I had faith. Faith in myself, in the existence of miracles. Even after I was put in that little room again, I still had faith. After learning my mother was dead, still I kept hope. Because my sister was out there. It was going to be okay, because I would find her, and then I would have at least one member of my family. My God I would have family.

But they killed her. And now I don't know how to recover myself. Don't know where to egin, or even if I want to begin. I don't know if I have the will or the inclination to find my way home again.

*Thump.*

A sound finally pierces my consciousness. Her heartbeat beneath my ear. I close my eyes and listen to it beat.

*ThumpThumpThumpThumpThumpThumpThumpThump*

I am wrong. I've already found my way home. That sound is my beacon, her eyes my north star. I am home.

I just have to find myself again.

~~~~~

Sunlight shines through the cracks in the curtain. They lay in the same position they've occupied since last night. There is a soft, tentative knock at the door. Miss Parker lifts her head, looking towards the door, then looking at Jarod. "Can you get up long enough for me to get the door?"

Jarod nods slowly, pushing his hands against the floor and standing up. He reaches blindly for the blanket on the bed, wrapping it around his waist. He picks up the sheet and hands it to her, eyes blank, movements mechanical. Miss Parker smiles softly at him and takes the sheet, wrapping it around her body. She leans over and kisses his cheek gently. "Lay back down on the bed, Jarod."

Jarod nods again, laying on the bed and curling into ball. His eyes slowly shut. Miss Parker stares at him for a moment, a pained expression on her face. She takes a deep breath and turns, walking over to the door and opening. Sydney smiles gently at her. "How is he?"

Miss Parker sighs and shakes her head a little. "Not good."

Sydney furrows his eyebrows, looking over her shoulder at Jarod, curled up on the bed. He looks back into her eyes. "What happened?" he asks in a low, concerned confused voice.

Miss Parker steps out of the doorway and motions for Sydney to come in. She shuts the door behind him and takes a couple of deep breaths. "He called Broots on the cell phone to tell him that you were okay. And Broots told him that *Daddy*," she bites out, "had killed his sister. As if there wasn't enough going on with him. And they hadn't taken enough from him. And it broke him."

Sydney swallows deeply. "I will kill the bastard myself," he grits out in dangerous, low voice. "I should've done it years ago."

Miss Parker shuts her eyes and puts a hand on Sydney's shoulder. "That's been the thought that's been running through my head all night."

"I should've killed the man before he killed Catherine," he mutters. "I should've made sure you, Jarod and Angelo got out. That all the children got out. I should've finished what Catherine started."

Miss Parker shakes her head a little. "And Mom should've done things differently. All of us should've done things differently."

Sydney shakes his head slowly. "You weren't there. Catherine did everything she could, as safely as she could," he whispers softly, defending the dead woman he still loved.

Miss Parker smiles a little. "You don't have to defend her Syd. I'm not condemning what she did. I wish I had her courage to do the same things sometimes."

"You do have her courage," Sydney assures her in an intense voice, laying his hand on her shoulder. "You have her courage, and whether you admit or not, you have her beauty, inside and out."

"I guess I just wish things had been done differently, so that she was still here."

Sydney nods slowly. "I wish that too," he whispers. He clears his throat and runs his hand softly down the side of her face. "I'll leave you to tend to your patient now," he murmurs softly.

Miss Parker takes a shaky breath. "I don't know what to do with him."

Sydney smiles gently. "Love him Parker," he whispers. "That's all he needs right now."

Miss Parker nods. "I just don't know if it's enough. He's so. . . withdrawn."

"Contrary to popular belief, love is always enough. It's all you need." He smiles and stands. "Just make him feel it Parker."

"I'm trying," she whispers. She looks at Sydney, an unsure expression on her face. "And call me Leslie. Please."

Sydney smiles gently, cupping her face in his hands. "I love you Leslie," he murmurs, kissing her forehead, and walking out of the room.

Miss Parker stares after him for a moment and gets up, walking over to the bed. She lays down and wraps her body around Jarod's. After a moment, Jarod slowly turns in her arms and wraps his around her, leaning his head in the crook of her neck. He nuzzles her skin gently with his nose. "Sydney was right," he murmurs softly. "You are beautiful."

Miss Parker rests her cheek against the top of his head. "I love you Jarod."

Jarod kisses the side of her neck gently. "I love you too," he whispers, his voice only a little unsure.

Miss Parker kisses the top of his head. "You're not going anywhere Jarod," she says softly.

Jarod tightens his arms around her, remaining silent.

She moves one of her hands up to the top of his head. "I mean it. I know that you're considering it. I mean at least part of your head. But you're not going anywhere without me."

Jarod swallows and buries his face further into her neck. "I love you," he whispers.

Miss Parker nods. "I know."

~~~~~

Jarod lays on the bed, curled up around Miss Parker, his arm around her waist, one leg thrown over her hips and his head nestled into the crookof her neck. Miss Parker has one hand running up and down his back, her other hand stroking his hair softly. She lays her cheek against the top of his head, her eyes focused on the corner of the room. Jarod begins to shiver violently.

Miss Parker tightens her arms around his back and lifts her head a little. "Jarod?"

Jarod tightens his arms around her and buries his face further into her neck, continuing to shiver, and staying silent.

Miss Parker wraps her arms tighter around him, running her fingers up and down his back. "Jarod. What's wrong?"

"Cold," he mutters under his breath. "Syd it's too cold. . . . Sydney please, can we stop now?" he asks in the voice of a hurt child.

Miss Parker squeezes her eyes tightly shut for a moment. She opens them and reaches a hand down, pulling the blanket up over them. "We can stop Jarod," she whispers against his hair.

Jarod shivers a little more, but not quite as violently. "But you said you wanted to go for another hour," he says in a voice that's haunted. "I know you said it was important," he chatters.

Miss Parker swallows deeply and tightens her arms around him again. "Forget what I said. You're more important."

"You won't let them hurt me anymore, will you Sydney?" he asks in a hopeful tone, still shivering slightly.

"No Jarod. I won't let them hurt you anymore."

"Thank you," he whispers. "I'm so tired." He moves his face against her neck, the shivering having stopped. "So tired."

Miss Parker kisses his forehead softly. "Then rest."

Jarod burrows himself as far around and into her as he can and falls into a deep sleep.

~~~~~

Jarod slowly rouses from a deep sleep. He rubs his cheek against the soft skin under him, his eyes opening and staring at the ceiling, unfocused. "Will Dr. Raines be back again Sydney?" he asks in a small voice.

Miss Parker shakes her head and runs her hand through his hair. "No Jarod."

"So there won't be anymore of those tests?" he asks in a shaky voice.

"No Jarod," Miss Parker whispers. "No more tests."

"Am I allowed to take a shower now? Dr. Raines wouldn't let me for three weeks. He said it interfered with the accuracy of the readings," he says in a small voice.

Miss Parker curls her hands into fists for a moment. "Of course Jarod."

Jarod slowly throws back the covers and rolls out of bed. He stumbles to the bathroom, turning on the shower, hot, letting the room fill with steam. He climbs in the tub and sits down in the corner, letting the hot water run over his body, scalding his skin. Miss Parker gets out of bed and walks towards the bathroom. She opens the door and shakes her head a little, walking toward the shower. "Jarod, this is way too hot." She reaches in and turns the cold water on.

"It has to be hot," he mumbles. "It's the only way I can ever get clean."

Miss Parker sits down on the outside of the tub. "No it's not Jarod."

Jarod looks up at her, his eyes wide and afraid. "Yes it is. This place is filthy. It's what nightmares are made of. The only way I can get rid of the smell, and the feel of the lab is by turning the water on so hot that after a few minutes underneath the spray, I can't feel anything."

Miss Parker takes a deep breath. "Where are you Jarod?"

"My shower," he mutters. "In my room. I just left Sydney and Dr. Raines. I hate it when Dr. Raines comes to visit. The Sims are always worse. I've been freezing for the last week. So cold . . . Dr. Raines wanted to see how long a human being could stay conscious in  below freezing temperatures."

Miss Parker reaches a hand into the shower and cups Jarod's cheek gently. "You're not in the Centre Jarod," she says softly.

"Yes I am," he murmurs. "I've never been anywhere but here."

Miss Parker shakes her head. "You're not in the Centre. I swear to you."

Jarod's eyes narrow a little at her. "Where's Leslie today Catherine?" he asks softly. "You said she'd be by again today."

Miss Parker shuts her eyes for a minute. "It's me Jarod. I'm not my mother."

Jarod looks at her blankly for a moment, then blinks his eyes once. "Les?" he asks in an unsure, barely audible voice.

"Yeah. It's me."

"Leslie I've been so cold," he murmurs. "I've been so cold, and so tired. . . . and all I wanted was to see you and sleep."

Miss Parker brushes back some damp hair from his forehead. "I know baby. I'm here."

Jarod looks around for a moment. "Where are we?" he asks in a lost voice.

"We're in a hotel," she says softly. "We're in California."

"Not Delaware?" he asks in a small voice. "Not in the Centre?"

"No. Far away from the Centre."

"How did we get out?" he asks with a trace of awe in his voice. "How did we get away?"

"We finally ran away Jarod."

A small smile breaks out across Jarod's face. "We ran away?" he murmurs in amazement
and joy.

Miss Parker swallows and cups Jarod's cheek again. "What's the last thing you remember?"

Jarod's eyebrows furrow for a moment. "You. . . Me. . . Sydney. . . and Catherine having lunch. That was before Dr. Raines decided I had to do the test."

Miss Parker strokes her thumb over his cheek gently. "You're not ten years old anymore Jarod."

"I'm not?" he asks in confusion.

Miss Parker shakes her head. "No. You're not."

"How old am I?"

Miss Parker smiles a little sadly. "You're a lot older then ten."

"So we're all grown up now?"

"Yeah." Miss Parker reaches behind her for the small hand mirror, wiping  some of the steam off of it. She holds it up in front of him. "See?"

Jarod blinks at his reflection a few times, then looks back to her. "Did we make it Les?" he asks hopefully. "Did we make it out with our dreams intact?"

Miss Parker shuts her eyes. "We came really close."

A single tear runs down his cheek. "But not close enough," he says in a tight voice. "They stole them anyway."

Miss Parker opens her eyes and brushes the tear from Jarod's cheek. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he says, blinking his eyes a few more times. "It isn't your fault. You didn't do it, they did. You're the one who saved enough of my soul so it could heal."

"I did the best I could."

Jarod looks into her eyes, his focusing on them, truly seeing them for the first time. "Please save me again Leslie," he begs softly. "You're the only one who can."

Miss Parker blinks back tears. "In any way I can Jarod," she whispers. "But I don't knowhow. Not now."

Jarod looks at her with a heartbroken expression on his face, confusion and desperation  playing over his features. "I don't know how either," he whispers. "I only know if you don'tsave me soon, there isn't going to be anything left worth saving."

Miss Parker moves and climbs into the shower with Jarod, wrapping her arms around him. "I'll save you baby," she whispers brokenheartedly. "I promise I'll save you."

~~~~~

Jarod slowly rises from bed, grabbing his jeans off the floor, slipping them on and walking outside, not bothering to button them. The moon shines bright in the sky. Miss Parker sits up in bed, staring after him for a moment. She gets out of bed, grabbing both his shirt and boxers and throwing them on. She walks out behind him. "Jarod?"  Jarod doesn't respond,walking down the  beach, to the shoreline, moving faster. Miss Parker follows him down,keeping a watchful eye on his back. "What are you doing Jarod?" she asks softly.

He continues to walk, basically ignoring her, at a clipped pace along the shore. The water laps at his feet gently. She follows a couple of feet behind him. After a few minutes, she reaches a hand out and grabs his arm. "Jarod."

He shakes her off and starts walking again, faster, almost jogging. Miss Parker continues following, a couple of feet behind him. Jarod stops for a moment, looking heavenward, then starts to run. He races down the shore as fast as he can, treading sand up underneath his feet. Miss Parker sighs deeply and takes off running after him. After a few minutesof running, Jarod stops just as suddenly as he'd started. He sinks to his knees on the sand, then to his hands. He lays down on his side, curling into a ball, the water just lapping at the bottoms of his feet. Miss Parker stops next to him and drops to her knees. She moves a hand to his forehead, brushing some of his hair back. She gasps at how hot his forehead is. "Jesus Jarod."

Jarod groans a little, pushing his body into the sand, wrapping his arms around himself. Miss Parker takes a couple of deep breaths, running her hand down his cheek, down his chest, feeling the fever running through him. "Jarod talk to me."

"You're just pretending," he mumbles disjointedly.

Miss Parker furrows her eyebrows, still stroking his forehead gently. "What are you talking about Jarod?"

"You don't really care," he mumbles. "You just want me back there. Back at the Centre."

Miss Parker's eyes shut. "That's not true Jarod. I love you."

"No you don't," he mutters. "You never have, you never will. I know better. You just want to get me back there so you can leave. You'll hunt me down and won't care," he says in a chilling tone.

Miss Parker strokes her hand through his hair. "If I wanted you back there, you'd be there Jarod. We left together."

Jarod's eyebrows furrow in genuine confusion. "Left together?" he asks in bewilderment. "No. . . no you'd never let me out of there. . . . that would mean you'd have to stay there. Cause you won't leave Daddy. You won't believe me over him. . . he lies  to you. .. all the time lies and you won't believe me. . . I've never lied to you."

"I know you never lied to me. I do believe you. And neither of us are going back to the Centre, ever."

"But you said you'd bring me in," he mutters. "At all costs, no matter what, you'd never
give up."

"I know what I said," she murmurs. "But I'm not going to take you back there."

"I don't even care," he murmurs. "If you take me back, that's fine. . .. just please hold me. I need you to hold me. . . even if you don't really mean it."

Miss Parker blinks back tears as she carefully pulls Jarod's upper body into her lap, wrapping her arms around him tightly. "I love you Jarod. Even if you don't believe me right now. Somewhere in you, you know I love you."

"I know I love you," he mutters. "I know that I Have always loved you and that you would never love me because I'm one of them, the lab rats . . . the geniuses . . . the WonderKid's . . . you hate them . . . you pity them . . . and even though you were my friend, you won't let me in anymore and now we're doomed to play on opposite teams."

Miss Parker shakes her head, tightening her arms around his torso even more. "No Jarod. Maybe at one time that was true, but it's not now. I don't hate you, I don't pity you, but I do love you."

"Do you really love me back?" he asks in a hopeful, awed, uncertain voice.

Miss Parker leans her head down and kisses his forehead, the fever burning her lips. "Yes Jarod. I really love you."

~~~~~~

After twenty minutes had passed, Miss Parker takes a deep breath and moves one of her hands back to Jarod's hair, stroking it back from his forehead. "Jarod, we need to get you inside."

Jarod shakes his head slowly. "No. . .it's too small in there. Here I can breathe."

"Jarod," she says softly but forcefully. "You're sick. You need to get out of the cold sand and the cold air. We can come back outside as soon as you're better, I promise."

Jarod shivers a little. "I am cold," he concedes in a small voice. "You promise we'll come back out?"

She nods, tightening her arm. "Yeah. I promise."

Nodding slightly, Jarod stands up, swaying a little. Miss Parker stands up and wraps an arm around his waist, helping him keep his balance. "Come on."
 

Slowly, they make their way back up the beach, stumbling only a few times. Jarod pauses at the door to the room, swaying backwards a little. Miss Parker keeps her arm firmly around his waist. "It's okay Jarod."

Jarod lets her lead him into the room. He looks around, already feeling everything closing in on his fever addled brain. Miss Parker leads him over to the bed. She pulls the covers back. "Take your jeans off and lay down Jarod."

Jarod blinks at her dumbly for a moment, then shakes himself, hooking his thumbs under the waist band of his jeans, shoving them down his hips to his feet. He falls again, landing on the bed, face first. He just lays there. Miss Parker eases his legs further onto the bed and gently rolls him onto his back. She pulls the blankets up to his chin and leans down, kissing his forehead. "Just rest. I'll be right back."

Jarod nods slowly, his eyes opening, then closing, opening, closing, again and again. Miss Parker watches him for a moment and turns, hurrying out of the room and going over to Sydney's room and knocking on the door. Sydney answers after a moment, opening the door, pulling his robe closed. "What's wrong Leslie?" he mumbles sleepily.

Miss Parker swallows deeply. "It's Jarod. He's really sick."

Sydney widens his eyes. "Let's go," he murmurs, walking out of the room, grabbing his key on his way out. Miss Parker fumbles with her room key, opens the door.

She walks in and holds the door open for Sydney. Jarod has kicked the blanket off, the sheet tangled around his hips. Sydney walks in and sighs deeply, heading over to the bed and laying a hand against Jarod's forehead. "Damn," he mutters.

Miss Parker stands on the other side of the bed and looks at Sydney. "He just. . . woke up out of a fitful sleep, threw on a pair of jeans and took off running down the beach. I followed him and he's. . . . shit, he's been lost for hours, not knowing where he is, barely knowing who he is."

Sydney looks at her. "I didn't think they were testing it on human beings yet," he murmurs. "Obviously, I was wrong."

Miss Parker narrows her eyes a little. "Testing what?"

"An experimental virus," Sydney murmurs. "One to two weeks after it's introduced into the bloodstream, the patient exhibits delusions and a hysteria. They become disoriented and lose contact with and what they are. Twenty-four, to forty-eight hours later, they become iolently ill. Fevers. Shaking. Hot and cold flashes. Vomiting. Stomach cramps. Aching bones and muscles." Sydney takes a deep breath. "It lasts twenty-four to forty-eight hours. After that time, the patient isn't supposed to have memory of what went on over the entire two week span." Sydney swallows. "The drug gets inside your head. . . it makes you think things you wouldn't normally think. . . .it wipes out entire passages of your consciousness." Sydney shakes his head. "And I didn't think Raines was testing it on humans yet."

Miss Parker exhales a sharp, shaky breath and sinks slowly onto her knees on the floor by the bed. "Oh God. . . . What can I do for him?"

"Whatever he wants you to," Sydney says softly. "It's a virus unlike any other. If he's hot, don't make him cover up. Give him ice. Cold compresses. If he's cold, wrap a blanket around him. Hot liquid. Cater to him. This isn't a physical ailment. It's a mental disease that has physical consequences."

"So you're telling me," she begins in a soft, unsure voice, "that when this wears off, he's not going to remember anything that's happened?"

Sydney takes a breath and opens his mouth slowly. "That's what the Simulations have shown," he says slowly. "That the patient has no memory - sometimes there are. . flashes. . . images. . . but it's more like remembering a particularly vivid dream you had the night before."

Miss Parker pinches the bridge of her nose, a couple of tears running down her cheeks. "There's nothing that can be done about it?"
 "Not that I know of Leslie," he says softly, not wanting to extinguish her hope. "I may be
wrong, there may be something, but. . .. If there is, Raines doesn't know about it. Raines doesn't care. He wants those memories wiped. It's the purpose of the drug."

Miss Parker nods, numbly and looks down at Jarod. "I'm sorry I woke you up."

Sydney shakes his head. "Don't be sorry Leslie," he murmurs. "I'm sorry I couldn't give you better news."

Miss Parker shakes her head. "This isn't your fault. At least you told me what to expect."

Sydney nods. "I wish I could tell you more. Raines has been working on this for the last ten years. Perfecting it. I was there for the principal research - it was intended to help people. But like everything at the Centre, its motives became warped."

Miss Parker sighs and shakily stands up. She walks around the bed and places a hand on Sydney's shoulder. "You did what you could."

 "No more, no less," Sydney murmurs. He swallows. "I'll leave you with him now," he says softly. "My best advice my darling girl?" He leans forward, placing a kiss against her forehead. "Same as always. Just love him."

Miss Parker swallows and nods. She wraps her arms around Sydney's shoulders. "I do.  And I love you." She leans her head back and looks at him. "Dad."

Sydney's eyes tear up and he wraps his arms around her back, holding her to him tightly, almost painfully. "I love you Parker," he says intensely, hugging her to him. "I always have. Even when I didn't know for sure."

Miss Parker swallows and blinks back more tears, a few of them running down her face anyway. "You go back to bed and get some sleep. I'll take care of him."

 "Yes Ma'am," Sydney murmurs, saluting. He turns and walks out the door. Miss Parker
looks after him for a moment and turns, sitting down on the bed next to Jarod, placing a hand on his forehead. She reaches a hand down and pulls the blankets back up over him, lying down next to him. Jarod immediately kicks the blankets away again. Miss Parker lifts her head and looks at him. "Can I do anything Jarod?"

Jarod moves his head, burrowing it against her rib cage. "Please hold me," he murmurs in the most lost tone.

Miss Parker moves a little closer to him and wraps her arms tightly around his waist. "That's easy Jarod."

~~~~~

Darkness. Pain. Sharp, shooting, searing pain. They've beaten my ribs again. I can feel them cracking, breaking every time something comes in contact with them. And my legs. . . the burns and the cuts. . my legs and my back are on fire. I can barely feel the needle mark.  I wonder what was in that syringe. It's been almost six hours, I can tell, since they gave it to me. No signs of anything but pain. Maybe it was a placebo, designed to fuck with my  mind. God knows they seem to enjoy doing that enough.

Why did she do this? She didn't have to be so cruel, so unyielding, so unmentionably cold. I need so much. I need help. I need salvation. I need her to hold me. Even if she doesn't mean it. Even if I love her so much I ache with it and she doesn't love me back, I just want her to hold me. Because it would give me a feeling of temporary safety. And right now, even temporary safety is preferable to this.

Because this is my living hell.

I'm back here. I'm back here and I have no certain way of getting out in sight. I will be trapped here for the duration. And there isn't a damn thing I can do about it.

What's the sound?

Ocean waves. Ocean waves? In the Centre? I must have finally snapped, because I swear I can hear the sound of the surf pounding against the shore. And. . . her voice. But not her voice. This voice is soothing. . . it's whispering to me. . . telling me I'm safe, that she loves me, that everything is going to be fine. She's telling me of Mexico, and Southern California, how she held me in a shower and made love to me on a king sized bed. But none of these things happened. They couldn't have.

I am here and I have never touched her body, never even kissed her, save that one chaste touch when we were too young, too innocent to know what passion was.

Not that I deceive myself into believing we were ever innocent. No, they took that from us long ago. But with her I have always felt a modicum of innocence left. I feel it inside her, as well. She would laugh at me, then become angry if I were to infer in her presence that she had innocence left in her.

She is so beautiful when she's angry.

Another thing I would never be stupid enough to say to her face. It would only serve to enrage her further, and while she is beautiful when she's angry, she is always terrifying.  She is a force more powerful then a hurricane and infinitely more destructive when unleashed. She is also more beautiful then the brightest rainbow after a thunderstorm.

And she does not love me. Will never love me.

I want to hate her after what she's done to me. I want to so badly.

But I can't.

Instead, I wish for her to hold me.

I wish with everything I have in me.

~~~~~

Jarod rolls on the bed a little, burrowing his face into the soft skin beneath his cheek. He tangles his arms around her body, his legs with hers. Miss Parker tightens her arms, one of her hands running down his back. "Can I do anything for you Jarod?"

Jarod smiles a little against her. "You're the best delusion yet," he murmurs in a ragged voice.

Miss Parker kisses his forehead. "I'm not a delusion Jarod."

"Sure you are," he mutters. "My Miss Parker wouldn't care . . . wouldn't hold me . . . and even if she would, she couldn't get to me here."

Miss Parker shakes her head. "It's me Jarod. And I'm real. I promise you."

"Maybe I'll let myself believe you," he mumbles in a considering tone. "Maybe I'll just surrender to the madness and stay inside this little delusion forever. It's much better then where I am when I wake up, anyway."

Miss Parker kisses his forehead again. "You are awake. This isn't a delusion. I know you think it is. I know they gave you something to make you think that this was all. . madness, but it's not."

Jarod rubs his cheek against her breast bone softly. "It has to be," he murmurs. "This is every fantasy I ever had come true. It's got to be a delusion. They gave me some kind of hallucinogen, and it's brought out my fantasies where I felt save. And this is the only one I ever felt safe in."

"Think about it Jarod. Why would they give you something that would send you to places where you felt safe? That's not the kind of people they are."

"They didn't mean for this to happen," he mumbles. "They wanted me to have nightmares, but instead I had good dreams." He leans his head against her more. "I'm tired. I'm so tired."

Miss Parker leans her cheek against the top of his head, stroking his back gently. "Then get some rest baby."

He smiles a little, his eyes shut. "You never called me baby before," he mumbles.

Miss Parker tightens her arms around his back. "Sleep Jarod. I'll still be here when you wake up."

Jarod nods slowly. "Yeah," he mutters. "Always here when I need you. Carry you around with me. . . a precious piece of yourself you didn't want anymore. ."

Miss Parker kisses the top of his head. "I'm glad you held onto it."

"Someone had to," he murmurs, slowly slipping back to sleep.

~~~~~

Dear lord, what did they do to him?

Yeah, I know, they gave him some virus, but what did they *do*?

He's so lost. So hurt. He's not himself, and I don't know what to do. I keep telling him that things are real when he doubts, that I love him when he disbelieves. I wish this were enough. Sydney told me not to expect much, that he is not going to remember anything. Jarod is going to forget everything since I got him out. But, of course, he'll remember being locked back up, by me.

Am I going to have to build his trust back up? It won't surprise me, but I hope not. I'm going to have to work to make him believe I love him. I can tell. He doesn't think I do now, he doesn't even think I'm real. But he is sick. It's okay, I've got no problems with that, I am willing to do anything for him. But I don't want to have to. I want him to never have gone through this.

It doesn't matter to me the hell I have to go through, I would walk through fire if it would make things easier on him. But he should not have this inflicted on him. He's so beautiful, his soul is so beautiful.

It's very tattered right now, thanks to . . . *him.* But it's still beautiful. And it pains me to see him figuratively bleeding from a gaping wound in his chest where his heart was ripped out. It's slowly being put back, I think in part to me, but it's still got to hurt him. It hurts me to think about it.

My love, my Jarod . . . I want him back. He's not himself, and I want him back. He's still the man I love, but he's so different.

Damn them. They had to test this *virus* on him.

But Sydney's right, he'll be okay, if I love him, keep loving him, and just let him know it.

I'm trying Jarod, I'm trying.

~~~~~

Twenty-four hours after Jarod's escapade along the beach, he rolls a little, opening his eyes and focusing on the ceiling. He blinks a few times, looking to his right and seeing the ocean through the cracks in the curtain. He furrows his eyebrows, his last memory being that of passing out in his cell. Miss Parker lets out a small moan, turning her head to the side and
looking at Jarod. "You awake?"

Jarod's head snaps around at the sound of her voice. His eyes widen when he sees her. "Miss Parker?" he asks in shock and confusion.

Miss Parker moves a hand up to his cheek and brushes it over his forehead. A small smile crosses her face. "Good, I think your fever broke."

Jarod's eyebrows furrow again. "What fever?" he asks. "Why . . . where are we?" he finally settles on.

Miss Parker sighs a little, and shuts her eyes for a moment. "You don't remember anything, do you?"

"You mean after you locked me up again?" he asks in an angry voice. "After they came at me, beating me? No, I don't remember anything after that."

Miss Parker takes a shaky breath and sits up, the sheet falling down around her waist. "I didn't think so. I am so sorry Jarod."

Jarod glances down at her naked body, then moves his eyes back up to her face, his a mask of confusion and bewilderment. "Why . . . are you laying in bed with me?" he asks slowly.

Miss Parker turns a little, and places a hand against his chest. "You and I have barely left bed for the last two weeks."

Jarod widens his eyes. "You mean we . . ." he trails off, looking at her body, then his, then back to hers.

Miss Parker smiles, a small, sad smile and nods her head once. "Yeah. In between crossing the country and dealing with cuts and bruises and broken ribs."

Jarod swallows, shaking his head. "I don't understand," he mumbles. "Is this some kind of trick? Some kind of Sim they're running that I'm not aware of?" He looks around the room, as though expecting Mr. Raines to pop out from behind a dark corner.

Miss Parker shakes her head and moves her hand from his chest up to his cheek. "No. They gave you . . . something. A virus. It really messed you up. You were hallucinating and you got really sick. And the after effects were complete memory loss."

Jarod licks his lips. "What happened?" he asks in a low, confused voice.

Miss Parker takes a deep breath. "From when?"

Jarod looks at her carefully. "Let's start with the moment you slapped those handcuffs on me."

Miss Parker runs both of her hands down his arms, to his wrists, lifting them and placing a kiss on the inside of each of them. "You walked in, in front of Daddy and I knew that if I let you go, one of the sweepers who were standing two feet away from me would've killed both of us."

Jarod stares down at his wrists where she still holds them, a look of pure shock at how she'd just treated him, just spoken to him written across his face. He forces his eyes to hers. "And after?" he asks in a ragged voice.

"After, I put you back in your cell, I went home and I ran through every scenario I could come up with to get you out. I went back to the Centre in the morning and I talked to Sydney, and he and Broots and Angelo helped me get you out. It was too late to stop them from beating you, and from injecting you with whatever the hell it was that did this to you, and from Raines' running another Sim. But I got you out. As soon as I could."

Jarod shakes his head slowly in amazement. "So you decided I didn't belong in the Centre after all, you got me out, and
we . . . what? Fell into bed? It happened after you'd played nurse? What?" he asks in a choked voice.

"After I got you out, I drove for a couple of hours. I found a little roadside motel where we stayed for a couple of days. You were dazed and I attempted to, yes, play nurse, as best I could. Somewhere in the middle of our short time there, we
decided . . . well, you decided, that going down through Mexico and up into California where we are now was a good idea."

Jarod nods slowly. "Sounds right," he murmurs. "I have a friend who works the border."

Miss Parker smiles a little. "Yeah. Bubbly little thing."

Jarod smiles, a little oddly, but stays silent.

"Anyway, after we decided Mexico was the place to go, you decided that it was time for you to tell me that you loved me."

Jarod's eyes widen and his entire body goes still. "I decided," he says stiltedly, trailing off.

Miss Parker smiles gently. "Yes. As I said, we spent a few days in bed. I mostly just held you because you were in so much pain, and you were so lost."

"You held me?" he asks in a soft, awe filled tone.

Miss Parker swallows deeply and nods, her hand stroking his cheek softly. "Yes. I held you. When we were getting ready to leave, you were taking a shower and you couldn't wash your back or your legs because it hurt too much. So you asked me to help you. After, I'm sure, a lot of trying to find another way to do things on your part. You asked me while we were in the shower for permission to hold me." She chuckles a little. "I still can't believe you asked."

"What else would I do?" he asks in a sincere voice.

"Good point." She smiles a little. "It was then that I was doing the most soul searching, trying to find my way back from wherever I had lost all ability to love other people.  Because I wanted to love you, and I didn't know how."

Jarod looks at her, a slightly awed, hopeful expression on his face. "And?"

She smiles a little, blinking back tears. "And somewhere in between there and here, I figured it out."

Jarod's lower lip trembles a little. "You love me," he says softly, half statement, half question.

Miss Parker leans down and kisses his forehead. "Yes Jarod. I love you."

He shakes his head a little. "This has to be a delusion," he mumbles brokenly. "It has to be. It can't be real. I've believed it was real too many times and had too unpleasant awakenings."

Miss Parker shakes her head. "You've gone through hell. Again, the last couple of weeks. But I assure you, that this is real."

Jarod takes a deep breath. "If it is a delusion," he mutters, "I don't want to wake up. I'm tired of waking up to the reality of my life. You don't know how badly I want to believe this . . . that you're not some delusion in my mind, or some cruel trick they've thought up to torture me with."

Miss Parker runs her hand back up through his hair. "Yes I do. And this is not a delusion, and it's not a dream, and it's not something that they thought up at the Centre."

Jarod swallows, staring into her eyes. "We . . . we made love?" he asks slowly, as though clarifying the point in his own head.

Miss Parker nods. "Yes. I wish you could remember it. But yes, we did."

Jarod shakes his head a little. "I don't know how I could forget," he murmurs brokenly.

"That's not something you have control over. You forgot everything."

"I want that back," he murmurs. "I want to remember what it felt like to make love to you." He looks at her. "How could they take that from me?" he asks in a haunted voice.

Miss Parker takes a shaky breath. "They didn't know they would be. But they've taken so much else, that it probably wouldn't even occur to them to think of it. They wouldn't give it a second thought if they knew."

Jarod takes a few deep breaths. "So you've just been holding my hand this entire time?" he asks her softly. "You've been tending to my wounds- emotional and physical - helping me on the road to recovery?"

Miss Parker nods. "Yep. Florence Nightingale I'm not. But I did the best I could."

Jarod smiles. "Your best is pretty damn good," he murmurs. "And you did it because you love me," he repeats, awe tingeing his voice.

Miss Parker smiles a little. "Yes I did. Even before I admitted it to myself, or you. It's why I was doing it."

Jarod reaches a shaking hand up to her face, tentatively cupping her cheek gently. "I love you," he whispers, testing the words on his lips.

Miss Parker turns her head and kisses the center of his palm. "I love you," she whispers back.

"Can I kiss you?" he asks, almost shyly. "I mean, am I allowed?"

Miss Parker smiles softly, leaning her head down toward his. "You're allowed to do anything you want."

Jarod runs his hand to the back of her head, pulling her down and kissing her softly. His eyes drift shut and his fingers move over her scalp softly. Miss Parker kisses him back, equally softly, both of her hands running up to his face, cupping his cheeks. Jarod slowly pulls away and looks at her. "Anything?" he asks in utter amazement.

She nods, kissing his lips quickly. "Anything."

Jarod moves his hands to her back, pulling her down and rolling onto his side. He places a soft kiss against her cheek, then brushes his lips to her mouth, kissing her again, running his hands up and down her back. Miss Parker moves one of her hands into his hair, running her fingers through it gently. Her other hand moves up and down his back as she kisses him back. Jarod slowly moves his hand over her rib cage, to her hips. He breaks their kiss and glances down. His eyebrows furrow again. "You're wearing boxer shorts," he says dumbly.

Miss Parker smiles. "Mmhhmm. They're yours. I just kind of grabbed them when I went chasing after you when you were running down the beach."

Jarod turns slightly wary eyes back on her. "You chased me down the beach," he mutters. He shakes his head. "You can tell me later." He leans forward and kisses her quickly. "I like that," he murmurs. "I like being able to kiss you."

Miss Parker smiles and runs her hand through his hair again. "Me too."

Jarod leans his forehead against hers, his nose touching her cheek. He places an unsure hand on her hip, just letting it lie there gently. Miss Parker smiles gently, running her hand through his hair again. "It's okay Jarod."

He looks up into her eyes, his face more then a little unsure. "I don't want to overstep my bounds," he murmurs softly.

A gentle smile crosses Miss Parker's face. She shuts her eyes for a moment. "You couldn't if you tried."

Jarod moves his hand from her hip around to her back, running his fingertips up and down her spine in a ghost like touch. "Tell me if I do?" he asks softly.

Miss Parker nods a little. "If you ever get there, I'll let you know."

Nodding gently, Jarod kisses her lips again, bringing his other hand around her back, running them both up and down, his fingertips skittering lightly across her spine. Miss Parker shivers a little and kisses him back, her hand running through his hair. Jarod moves his hands down to her lower back, running his fingertips along the waist band of the boxers, lifting them up, then  back down, sliding along her skin, tentatively. Miss Parker kisses him a little harder, opening her mouth and running her tongue along his lips. She runs one of her hands up his side to his shoulder, curling around it. Jarod lets out a small gasp of surprise, opening his mouth instinctively, moving his tongue along hers. He runs one of his hands to her side, curving it over her rib cage, rubbing each rib with his thumb in slow, rhythmic circles.

Miss Parker kisses him harder, her tongue running into his mouth. She squeezes his shoulder lightly and runs her hand back down his side to his hip and back up again. Jarod kisses her back, equally hard, his hands staying where they are, one of her ribcage, the other on her lower back, both still moving tentatively, unsurely over what he deems in his own mind as 'safe' areas of skin. Miss Parker moves her head away from his a little, looking him in the eye. She moves her hand to his on her rib cage and lifts it gently, placing it on her breast. Jarod closes his eyes and slowly curves his hand around her breast, cupping it, squeezing it gently in his palm. Miss Parker shuts her eyes and bites her lower lip, a smile on her face. Jarod slowly lowers his head, placing his lips on her throat,  brushing them over her collar bone. His hand begins to massage her breast, moving the
nipple against his palm. Miss Parker arches her back gently into his hand, moving her head back. She tangles her fingers in his hair again, her fingertips stroking over his scalp lightly.

Jarod runs his mouth down to the top of her breast, kissing it softly, then moving between her breasts, placing soft, open mouthed kisses over her skin. Miss Parker rolls fully onto her back, her hand on Jarod's head bringing him with her. She runs her other hand down his back to his hip, holding it, her fingers running in small lines over his lower back. Jarod moves his mouth over her breast, darting his tongue out, licking her nipple. His other hand is still over her breast, rubbing gently as his mouth encloses her nipple, pulling it between his lips, sucking gently. Miss Parker gasps a little and arches her back into his mouth. She
murmurs his name softly.  Jarod releases her breast and moves his mouth down her rib cage to her stomach, placing lingering open mouthed kisses along her skin. He moves his mouth along the waist band of the boxer shorts, his tongue darting out and moving just under it, then around her belly button. Miss Parker lets out a quiet moan. She runs her hands over his shoulder blades, her fingernails lightly trailing over his skin. Jarod shudders a little and moves his hands to her hips, his fingertips playing with the waist band of the boxers. He continues to place soft, fleeting kisses over her stomach. Miss Parker lifts her head and smiles down at Jarod. "Take them off," she says softly.

Jarod looks up at her for a moment, then runs his fingers underneath the waist band, tugging softly until they're to her thighs. He leans his head down and kisses her thigh, just about where the waist band is now, then moves it down further until it's to her knees. He follows the path with his mouth, his hand on her other leg. He gets the boxers down her legs and tosses them away. He places a kiss against her instep, then moves to her ankle, then her calf. He places his mouth behind her knee, licking softly, then moving up to her thigh again, placing a series of soft, biting kisses along her inner thigh.

Miss Parker giggles quietly when his lips touch the back of her knee. She moves her hands to the sides of his head, her fingers tangling in his hair. Jarod runs his tongue over her skin where he'd nipped at it, then moves his hands to her thighs, pushing them apart and moving his head down, licking her clit softly. Miss Parker moans loudly, her fingers tightening in his hair. She presses her head further into the pillow and shuts her eyes. Jarod moves his tongue down, slipping it just a little inside her, then moves back up, licking her clit again, harder.

His hands rest on her thighs, his thumbs moving in little circles over her inner thighs. Miss Parker lets out a few quiet moans. She gasps for air and murmurs his name. She keeps one of her hands tightened in his hair, the other stroking it back gently.

Jarod moves his mouth again, running his tongue inside her as far as he can, then pulling out, licking in a long, hard stroke back to her clit. He places his mouth around her clit and sucks, gently at first, then hard, then eases up again. He repeats the motion several times, his thumbs still making small circles on her thighs. Miss Parker moans his name on every exhale of breath. She continues brushing his hair back lightly. Jarod lets go of her clit and moves down, darting his tongue in and out of her a few times, varying the pressure and speed. He licks back up to her clit, and down again a few times, slowly, hard. He places
his lips over her clit again and gently grazes it with his teeth. Miss Parker arches her hips off the bed a little, her body tensing and shuddering. She lets out a quiet scream as she comes, her hands tightening in his hair again. Jarod releases her clit and licks her again, slow, soft strokes of his tongue. He moves his hands to her stomach, circling his fingertips there.

Miss Parker tries rather unsuccessfully to catch her breath while her orgasm prolongs, her body still shuddering lightly. Jarod slowly moves up her body as he feels her relax. He brushes his mouth over her skin, feather soft, over her ribs, her breasts, her collar bone, her throat, landing finally on her mouth, kissing her with infinite tenderness. Miss Parker kisses him back. She runs her hands down his sides, moving to cup his erection gently in her hand. Jarod lets out a moan, half pleasure, half surprise. He leans his head down to her ear, kissing it softly. "I almost lost it when you came," he murmurs huskily. "You are such a turn on."
Miss Parker smiles. She wraps her fingers around his erection, stroking it softly. "I love you," she says, her voice filled with amusement.

Jarod lays his head back against the pillow, a wry expression on his face. "And you want to laugh. Go ahead. I don't mind," he says softly.

Miss Parker shakes her head. "The urge is gone."

He blinks a few times, looking up at her. "I don't remember ever hearing you laugh," he says softly in a considering tone.

Miss Parker chuckles a little. "Probably because I don't."

"I want to change that," he murmurs. "We have to change that."

Miss Parker pushes Jarod flat on his back on the mattress and runs her head down to his chest, kissing his skin lightly. "Later," she murmurs.

Jarod gazes at her through half closed eyelids. "You're sure," he murmurs, "this isn't one of my delusions? Fantasies? Dreams?"

Miss Parker looks up at him, a small smile on her face. Her hand tightens around his erection. "I'm sure."

Jarod sucks in a breath and runs his hand from her shoulder to her arm, his index finger and thumb curling over a patch of skin. He pinches. Miss Parker raises an eyebrow at him. "I think you're supposed to be pinching yourself, not me."

He raises an eyebrow back. "But you're more fun to pinch," he says in a low, amused tone.

Miss Parker lowers her head back to his chest and places soft kisses down to one of his nipples. She runs her tongue over it and very gently bites it. Jarod lets out a gasp that rolls into a moan. He moves his hand to the side of her head, tangling lightly in her hair. She licks his nipple a few more times and kisses her way down to his stomach. She places soft kisses down across the skin over his torso, his stomach, down to his hips. She centers her head over his erection and wraps her lips just around the tip, her hand lightly squeezing the base of his shaft. Jarod groans and leans his head against the pillow, his eyes shutting tightly. Miss Parker lowers her mouth further over his erection, her tongue swirling over it in long, hard strokes.

Jarod lets out another groan, his fingers tightening in her hair. His jaw clenches and attempts to breath. Miss Parker runs her other hand down, cupping his balls, squeezing them gently. She sucks hard on his erection, her hand still working over the base of his shaft. Jarod feels his body tensing and tangles his hand in her hair, tugging, trying to pull her up to his level. Miss Parker responds with her hand tightening around his shaft, her tongue running over the tip of his erection and back down, still sucking. Jarod opens his eyes and tries again, tugging on her hair. Miss Parker tilts her head a little, her lips still around his erection. She looks him in the eye and shakes her head a little. Sighing in defeat, Jarod falls back against the bed, his head digging back into the pillow again, his eyes shutting.

Miss Parker lowers her head again, sucking a little harder, her cheeks hollowing. Jarod groans, his hips moving off the bed slightly, then back down. He tightens his hand in her hair, his eyes shutting tighter. Miss Parker lowers her mouth as far over his erection as she can, still sucking. She gently squeezes his balls again. Jarod's entire body tenses and he arches into her mouth, his orgasm running through his body. He lets out a long, low groan. Miss Parker holds him in her mouth, still sucking lightly. Jarod leans his head against the pillow, breathing hard, his body limp and relaxed. Miss Parker releases him from her mouth and works her way back up his body, placing kisses against his skin. She  straddles his waist and lifts her head a little, smiling at him.

Jarod slowly opens his eyes, a slow smile spreading across his face as he looks at her. "Once you make up your mind to do something . . ." he trails off.

Miss Parker laughs softly. "I do it. All the way."

He nods a little. "Is that why I never really stayed at the Centre?"

Miss Parker shuts her eyes for a moment and takes a slightly shaky breath. "There are a lot of reasons why."

Jarod moves his hands to her hips, running them up her rib cage, spanning her waist with his hands, rubbing her abdomen softly with his fingers and thumbs. "Tell me a few of them," he murmurs softly. "I'd like to hear them."

Miss Parker takes a deep breath and focuses her eyes on his. "I realized that you were right, and that you didn't belong there. I saw that in the things that they were doing were more wrong then I have ever imagined. I had decided before I called you that I was going to give up on trying to get you back, and that I was just going to try and find a way to leave. I guess it was a combination of all of that, and a few extenuating circumstances that at that point I hadn't realized existed."

Jarod continues the slow, soothing circles on her stomach. "What kind of circumstances?" he asks in the gentlest of tones.

Miss Parker smiles sadly. "Well, there's always that little thing of not admitting to either of us for awhile that I loved you."

"Is that all?" he asks softly.

"I think somewhere I sensed that a few of the other things that have gone wrong or been brought to my attention in the last two weeks were  going to happen."

He raises an eyebrow. "Are you talking about some kind of psychic vision, or more along the lines of women's intuition?" he asks in a tone not at all mocking, just wanting to understand.

Miss Parker shrugs a little. "Probably just intuition."

"With your bloodline," Jarod says softly, "psychic vision wouldn't be out of the realm of possibility," he reminds her gently.

Miss Parker nods. "It may have been that, I just don't know." She sighs.

"I'm not sure how much I should dump on you right now."

Jarod moves his hands up and down her stomach softly, soothingly. "I don't consider your telling me what's going on in here," he reaches a hand up to her head, touching the side of it gently, "or here," he moves his hand over her heart, "as your dumping anything on me."

Miss Parker lets out a shaky breath and shuts her eyes for a moment. She opens them again and glances towards the side wall of their room. "Sydney's next door."

Jarod blinks for a moment. "You know," he states softly.

She nods. "You told me."

Jarod licks his lips. "Thank God for small miracles," he mutters softly. "Even if I can't remember them," he adds in a wry, exasperated tone.

Miss Parker nods a little and takes another shaky breath. "At least there was one in the midst of everything else."

Jarod runs both his hands up to her face, cupping her cheeks gently. "Come here," he murmurs, pulling her head down to his.

She lays her body down on top of his, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. Jarod kisses her mouth softly, lingeringly, running his lips over hers in a soothing caress. One hand rests half on her hip, half on her butt, the other laying over the middle of her back, his fingertips fluttering over her spine. Miss Parker sighs and leans her head down on his shoulder. "There's . . . there's one other thing . . . that . . . went wrong . . . and I don't want to have to tell you."

Jarod's hands tighten reflexively against her skin, the tone of her voice setting off alarm bells he hadn't even realized existed in his head. He loosens his hold again, his hands caressing her skin again. "What?" he asks slowly, warily.

Miss Parker lets out a shallow breath. "Your sister," she murmurs softly.

Jarod's fingers dig into her skin painfully, unconsciously. "What about her?" he murmurs in a hoarse voice, most of him already knowing.

Miss Parker tightens her arms around his shoulders. She lifts her head and kisses his temple. "I'm sorry baby."

Jarod's lower lip trembles a little as his eyes drift shut, closing off tears. He realizes he's digging his fingers into her skin too hard and loosens his grip, running his lips against her cheek. "Sorry," he murmurs in a barely audible voice. He takes a few deep, ragged breaths, then opens his eyes, looking at her. "There was an ache in my chest I couldn't place," he murmurs softly. "Now I can," he says simply.

Miss Parker leans her head down and kisses his chest over his heart. "I can't even express how sorry I am for what he's done to you."

"That should be my line," he murmurs in a raspy voice. "After all - he's my father."

"And he's taken everything from you."

Jarod shakes his head slowly. "Not everything," he murmurs. "I still have my soul. . . I still have my inherent belief in the good in people . . . and I still have you," he whispers.  “Someone I never thought I'd have again." He runs his hand up her cheek. "I have
everything."

Miss Parker lets out a sharp, shaky breath. "I love you."

Jarod smiles. "I know," he murmurs, kissing the top of her head. "I know you do."

~~~~~

"So what's your vote? Blue or green?" Jarod asks, indicating the curtains he's choosing between.

Miss Parker tilts her head to the side consideringly. "Green."

Jarod nods, once. "Green it is," he murmurs. "And that concludes our little lessons about color schemes," he says brightly. "Now all we have to do is actually put everything up, and our new house will become home."

Miss Parker smiles, wrapping an arm around Jarod's waist. "It's about time."

Jarod wraps his arm around her shoulders, hugging her against him. "How is Syd's progress going?" he asks softly, referring to Sydney's firm assertion that he, and he alone would design his little guest house.

Miss Parker laughs a little. "I think Dad's making himself insane."

Jarod raises an eyebrow. "The shrink's going nuts?" he asks sardonically.

Miss Parker nods her head. "I'm afraid so."

"Should we offer to help him?" Jarod asks, tugging her hand and sitting on the couch, pulling her down onto his lap.

"Nope." Miss Parker leans her head on his shoulder. "You know him. It wouldn't do any good anyway."

Jarod strokes the side of her head gently, running his fingers through her hair. "You're right," he murmurs. "So I guess we'll just have to leave Sydney to his own devices."

Miss Parker kisses Jarod's cheek softly. "Yeah. Him, and Angelo."

Jarod chuckles softly. "I told you we could get Angelo out without anyone knowing we were at the Centre," he murmurs in an 'I told you so' manner that, because it's him, comes off as cute.

Miss Parker rolls her eyes. "Yes you did. And in case I haven't said it in the last few hours, thank you."

"No thanks necessary," he murmurs. "I'd like to thank you for deciding you didn't want to chase me anymore, and facilitating my getting Sydney out of the Centre, thereby eliminating all reasons for me to keep contact with said institution." He grins. "I never
thought cutting all ties in one fell blow would be so . . . rewarding."

Miss Parker smiles. "Just glad it worked."

"Tell me, my dear Miss Parker," he murmurs softly, running his fingers up and down the side of her neck, "what are your beliefs on having children out of wedlock?"

Miss Parker leans her head back, an eyebrow raised, a small smile on her face. "Why Jarod, do you want me to have your children?" she asks in an inviting tone.

Jarod curls his hand around her neck, his fingers lightly feathering over her throat. "Yes, I do," he says in a low, soft voice.

Miss Parker smiles and leans her head forward, kissing him softly. "I've never been big on marriage," she murmurs.

Jarod shrugs. "I've never understood the need for it," he concedes. "And given our current status as fugitives from the Centre, we can't exactly file a marriage license." He kisses her softly. "But I want to be your husband, in every way that I can."

Miss Parker leans her forehead against the side of his head, kissing his cheek. "I want that too. But it's not what's important."

"Which brings me back to my original point," he murmurs in a soft, beguiling voice.

She chuckles. "I would have no problems."

Jarod nods slowly, his lips pursed. "Then let me ask it another way," he murmurs. "Do you *want* to have my children? Someday, I mean?"

Miss Parker smiles and kisses his lips softly. "Absolutely," she says in a soft, choked voice.

Jarod holds her against him tightly, placing a kiss against her temple, letting his lips rest there. "I just figured it out," he murmurs against her skin. "I just figured out how we'll always make damn sure they don't win."

Miss Parker raises her eyebrows. "Oh?"

Jarod smiles, brushing his lips over her temple. "We'll live our life," he says softly. "And we'll break the cycle."

Miss Parker tightens her arms around his neck. "Sounds good to me."

The End
 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 

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