Disclaimer: The Tomorrow People is the property of the CW. No copyright infringement is intended.

~ X ~

I open the door to my flat and stand off to the side watching him enter slowly, cautiously. His eyes roam, recognizing many of my possessions. We round a corner, and he stops in his tracks as he sees the chair.

I go to work doing what I do so well. "I trust you remember this."

He does that little half shake of his head as he laughs. "Stephen saved the planet, and you're still trying to get powers?"

"Well, John. The powers are for you. Your body will accept them. You were paranormal once, and you can go back to that."

He looks at me like he can't believe it.

"Don't you want your old life back again?" I hold my arms out like I'm offering it to him. I know this kid. I know which of his buttons to push. "Don't you want Cara back again?"

He draws a deep breath and then sighs. "You stole Irene's powers, and now you wanna give them to me?"

The kid always had a highly developed sense of right and wrong. He didn't get it from me. "Oh, I don't think you understand something. It's not Irene's DNA" – I hold up the blue shimmering vials – "that I'm offering you, son. It's Roger's."

He holds up a hand. "No." He looks horrified. "No. Tell me you didn't."

"Roger was dead. His body was dead. But I've made him immortal." I so want him to understand what I'm offering him.

He hangs his head for a brief moment before asking, "Why are you doing this?"

"John, I'm offering you my blood. I'm offering you my brother, the most precious part of him so that he can live again in you."

He threw my own words back at me. "I thought all a father wants is for his son to be a man."

"But what if you could be something more?" I've always been able to persuade him. John— the kid who just wanted a home. Wanted to be wanted.

He stares at me and truly that tired, worn out, overused cliché applies to John. Those blue eyes are the windows to his soul. I easily read how he wanted desperately to hope but was afraid. Afraid of disappointment. And finally I saw what I was looking for. He was daring to hope.

I've sold it to him.

He strips off his jacket and shirt, and I take the time to really look at him. He's not as lean as he was at Ultra, but it's all muscle. His hair's just as thick and blond, a little too long for my taste. I don't like the scruffy look he sports and his clothes —well easy enough to fix.

He pauses, and I stand back letting him make the decision. Wanting —no needing him to come to me.

He hesitantly sits in the chair, uneasy— unsure. As I move his arm to strap him in, he grabs my wrist with his other hand. "Please."

One softly spoken word, but I know what he means —know that he's pleading. Please don't use me. Please don't betray me.

I catch his eye and assure him. "It's okay, John. I'll watch out for you."

I justify what I say with the fact that I haven't actually uttered a lie. An omission can't be called a lie. I never confirmed or denied that I was using him. And I do watch out for him. Everything I did—I will do— makes him stronger.

I gently remove his hand from my wrist, and he lets me. I loosely strap him in and then restrain the other hand. I kneel to strap in his ankles and he starts. "Why the legs?"

"Trust me. You're gonna bounce around. I did."

Once I've restrained both legs, I go back to the wrists and tighten them up so there's no leeway. His eyes follow my hand movements, and he fidgets. I hold his head and push restraints against it effectively locking him in place. He's totally helpless, and he knows it. He can't back out now.

I ease a portal into the big vein of one hand and another one in the other hand. He's suspicious now.

"Jed, what's going on? You got ports built into the chair."

I keep busy, avoiding looking at him while I do last minute prep. "Just something extra, John. Don't worry." I keep my voice soothing.

I keep my back to him, so he doesn't see that the trolley I've wheeled behind the chair has a laptop on it with a connection to ALICE. I attach feeds to the chair and then slide multiple small electrodes into his scalp. He flinches, but it's more from nerves then pain.

"Are you ready, sweetheart?" He tries to turn his head to see who I'm talking to, but the screws hold him in place. His breath hitches as his nerves get the better of him.

"I'm always ready for you, luv." ALICE's voice startles John. I forget he's never met her. I'll have to introduce them.

I'm ready now. A deep breath to steady myself. I stare at my hands willing them not to shake. I know he'll get his powers back. That's not in doubt. I was the beta test. It's the rest of what I've got planned that I'm uncertain about. It worked on Cassie, but that was someone else's research. ALICE pulled the records for me, made recommendations, but still— I prefer to be in control from start to finish.

Behind his back, I fill a syringe with a sickly yellow fluid. "Protocol 35a, luv."

"I've marked it, Jed."

I open the port, wiping it with alcohol. He sees the color of the liquid and squirms. He would flee if he could, but he's locked in.

His breath comes faster as fear of the unknown hits him. His eyes scream 'What are you doing?'.

A quick indrawn sob as the liquid burns through his veins. He closes his eyes briefly. I pull the port and cover the needle mark with clear tape.

As I fill the next syringe, I call out, "Protocol 35b."

He closes his eyes as I inject the blood red liquid. He bites his lip, and I scold him. "Don't, John."

"Burns," he murmurs.

"His vitals are fine. You're doing great, luv. I've got your back." I can't keep a smile off my face. I love that computer. What a personality she has.

I patch up the back of this hand, and then it's show time. I hold up the vessels containing the essence that is Roger. I run a finger lovingly over the surfaces. I am in awe. Fascinated and comforted by them. A part of him still lives.

"Protocol TRn$fr." The solemnity of my tone surprises me.

"Initiating."

As the needles ready for insertion, I hold the back of my hand up to his face. I feel his lashes brush my skin as he closes his eyes trying to prepare for what's coming. I press my lips against his hair and whisper, "It will be alright, John."

He screams as the needles plunge into his spine. His body stiffens, and his back wants to arch, but the needles embedded in him prevent it.

His body temperature rises as the mixture binds with his chromosomes.

ALICE informs me. "Luv, I'm feeding him the images you requested." She paused. "So this is your John. I only know him from the files you had backed up before TIM was stolen."

My full attention is on him with the result that I respond to her rather absentmindedly. "Yup."

She gives a little sniff. "I see you're preoccupied and don't have time for me."

"I'll make it up to you, luv," I reassure her.

He starts to convulse as the chemical change begins. I feel for him. The memory of the pain I went through makes me shudder.

I see the exact moment the realization hits him that he's losing his memories. Panic-stricken, he screams out to her. "Cara!" Perhaps he hopes the scream will carve her image in his mind. The electrical stimuli ALICE is sending will overlay and change the neural connections that we call memories. His new memories should be complete at the same time as his DNA changes.

As he screams and jerks, his eyes accuse me, 'How could you?'

I mouth an answer. "It's for the best."

I don't consider this a betrayal of his trust. After all, a parent knows best. His true memories will only confuse him. He can't live torn between the future and the past. His loyalty needs to be with me.

As I wait, I think about how fitting this is. There is a kind of sweet poetic justice giving Roger's powers to John. After all my brother and I did to him, it's only right that we make some type of recompense. He lost something precious, and we are giving it back to him.

He is the son of my heart. By putting my brother into him, I make him the son of my body too. He carries the Price genes in him.

I've missed him. Six long years without family; no Roger, no John. I miss the camaraderie, the small jokes, and the friendly rivalry. I miss working with someone who I could always trust to have my back. I miss hanging together after work, playing chess, watching a game on the weekend. All the things John and I used to do.

I have no friends outside of family. Never had time. I had humanity to save. I've sacrificed —lost everything for my kind, for human kind. Certainly I deserve something. I deserve my son, my companion, my protégé —my John.

I've always watched out for him even as I've used him. I suffered with him through every loss, every tear, knew the agony of his guilt. I protected him, strengthened him in every way I could. He'll be at least as strong as Stephen—most likely stronger.

I freeze as a thought hits me. Oh God! Please tell me this is not my way of finally beating my brother. That I'm living vicariously through John. That because I couldn't be stronger than my brother, my son will be stronger than his son. I clamp down on those thoughts. Thrust them from my mind. I'm not—I could never be that petty.

The screams and convulsions are easing up now.

I watch and wait until his eyes slowly flutter open. Confused, they search until they find me. The uncertainty in his face fades.

"Jed."

He says my name like he's found a refuge, a safe port in the storm.

A breath I didn't know I was holding escapes me. I loosen the straps and help him stand up. He clings to me for a moment while he catches his balance, and I'm there to support him.

I make small talk. "Hey, you need a shower and a shave."

He rubs his hand over his chin. "Yeah, I guess I do. Don't know what I was thinking."

"I set you up in the spare bedroom. There's clothes in there. Throw out what you're wearing."

That got a small chuckle out of him. "You always were a stickler, Jed."

I gently slap him on the back. "After you shower, get some sleep. When you wake up, we've got a lot to discuss. I've got plans."

You're home now, John. Back where you belong. Where you've always belonged. With me.

~ FIN ~