Disclaimer: I don't own Pretender. It all belongs to those people down in Hollywood… I think.
A/N: I just finished re-watching "Wake Up" and I got this great idea for a fic. Please read and review. No flames, please. Thanks!
One Final Moment
She smelled like a basket of fresh flowers. It was a smell he prayed he never got used to; every time he smelled it, it just made him fall even more in love with her than before. Shifting his weight on the bed, he glanced at her sleeping form. Her breath was coming evenly in and out; a good sign because it meant she was not having any of those nightmares that plagued her. Brushing a strand of hair out of her face, he bent down and kissed her cheek. She moved her legs and smiled softly.
"Tommy." She whispered before sleep reclaimed her. Thomas decided to let her sleep. She had had a long day yesterday and sleeping in was a good remedy for anything. Or so he thought. Careful not to make too much movement and wake her, Thomas got out of bed and stretched. It was a gorgeous morning. He never got over how beautiful it could get out here in the woods. He wondered if Oregon's sunrises would look this charming. He smiled. They probably would if Parker was right there with him.
Thomas pulled on his jeans that were lying crumbled on the floor. Running a hand across his chin, he came to the realization that he needed a shave. Chuckling softly, he padded quietly out of the room. No use waking her up this early with the shower water running. Besides, she always liked to have the hot water first. A thought formed inside his mind. He could make her breakfast. She always loved that. Heading into the kitchen that he was very familiar with, he pulled out the skillet and started digging in the fridge for eggs.
The boards on the front porch creaked as someone put their weight down on them. Thomas's head snapped up.
Who could be out there at this time of day? It was too early for the trash man to be picking up Parker's trash, and besides, it wasn't even the right day. Another creak could be heard as the unseen intruder made their way passed the front steps. Thomas knew the sounds of those boards. He'd had to learn which ones to avoid so he could surprise Parker. If he stepped on the wrong board, she'd know he was there and the surprise wouldn't be a surprise. This person obviously didn't know about the creaky porch boards.
"Hello?" Thomas called, walking out of the kitchen and into the living room. Sunlight streamed weakly into the front windows. Dawn wasn't quite over yet and the sun didn't seem to have quite risen past the trees. There was nothing but dead silence. He moved toward the door.
Should he call the police and tell them that there was someone here? He rejected the thought. It was just probably some vagabond roaming through the woods looking for spare parts. Or, knowing her family, one of Parker's relatives. A half-smile formed on his face. There was nothing to worry about.
He had almost made it to the door when the handle knob started to turn on its own. A feeling of dread spread through him. As the door slowly opened, all he could think about was Parker and what she would do when she found him. Morbid thoughts, but he couldn't shake that feeling that when that door opened all the way, his life would be over.
He stood there, fear and anger mingling in his blood. The door opened completely to reveal a figure covered in black. A gun that looked a lot like Parker's was poised in the hands of the intruder. Thomas didn't see his life pass before his eyes. That would have been too clichéd. He did see Parker and he wondered.
Thomas was frozen in place; he couldn't move. The intruder raised the gun and aimed it squarely at his head. He couldn't see the eyes but he knew they were probably as cold as ice. Only a few more seconds of life left. And only one question remained unanswered.
"Why?" Thomas whispered as the intruder pulled the trigger.
Thomas Gate's body slumped down onto the floor, leaving a small pool of blood under his head. It flowed slowly toward the door, where the intruder in black stood. The figure bent down and placed the gun in the pool of blood.
"Because she belongs to us." A voice answered the dead man's last question. "Because she belongs to us."