i) This is a Daddy Parker fic; I know he's not the most popular of characters but I kinda liked him - I always thought he was a better villain than Raines. This is just a short piece concerning his motives for jumping out of that plane. Comments, criticisms, and possible cures for this sad affliction, gratefully accepted.
ii) 'To betray, you must first belong' (Kim Philby)
Absolution
It's a strange kind of feeling; almost like floating, in fact it almost seems like I'm not actually falling at all. But I am. Falling to my death perhaps, but most definitely falling from the pedestal my daughter placed me on. Here, surrounded by invisible forces, I feel, for the first time in a long time, free. Free from the life I leave behind. The pressure of the air around me is not as heavy as the prevailing forces of The Centre but they remind me that I never will be free. Though this feeling is fleeting, and ultimately out of my control, I know it's right.
I remember with some clarity the first time I realised my future was planned out, that I had no say in what my life would entail, that the Parker legacy would overwhelm everything else. Sitting as straight as I could on a hard backed chair, my father's warning not to fidget ringing in my ears, I fell under my grandfather's scrutiny. I tried my best to appear unafraid yet the old, withered man in front of me scared the hell out of me. I wanted to look anywhere else but at him; every time my eyes strayed to the dark corners of his office - the low light on his paper strewn desk only unmasking his weathered face and making ugly shadows of the contents of the room - I would force my attention back to his mean face; back to those beady eyes, which gleamed occasionally when he leant forward in his chair, as he began to indoctrinate me into the family business. As he told me how powerful The Centre could be, would be. To this day I am sure he mistook the fear in my own eyes for excitement as he carefully laid out my future, the distinct brogue adding to his fierce persona. At four years old I never questioned it; I would never have questioned my grandfather, or his legacy. All these years I never have, even when it's meant hurting those I love.
I hurt Catherine. She never understood what it was that we were trying to achieve. She couldn't see how great The Centre could become, didn't want to have to do the things that would ensure such a future. She blocked every path she could and sabotaged others. Maybe I should have fought for her, maybe I should have taken a stand back then, but it was too late; I was too weak, too greedy, too willing to take any steps necessary to succeed. I was on the way up (or should that be sliding down a slippery slope) locating Jarod after years of careful planning was the beginning of that shift. Everything before then had just been slowly leading up to that point; with the pretender The Centre - I - had power, real power, and my grandfather's legacy came to fruition. All I had to do was maintain the status quo - and enjoy the results.
But Catherine was my conscience. Always questioning The Centre's direction, my actions, and suggesting alternative paths to take. Her position at The Centre, a queen to my king, allowed her too much access. Everything that I adored in her became her downfall: her kindness, her integrity, her compassion. She began to interfere with projects - important projects - children began to disappear, backers pulled out. I turned a blind eye in the beginning; refused to believe what was happening because that would mean I'd have to act but eventually it was too much. Raines was constantly on my back to control her. Her open opposition to the Triumverate isolated her further and I had to make a decision, the hardest decision I've ever had to make. She was in so much turmoil by then, so much pain. She didn't know who to trust or who to turn to. She loathed me, loathed my unyielding servitude to a legacy I had never laid eyes on and I couldn't reason with her. I spent longer and longer hours at The Centre, rarely ever venturing home. The scrolls were the final straw. She'd found out about them, her endless digging into Centre secrets must have unearthed something. Or someone. Either way, it became too risky and I had to let her go. I let her go without ever telling her. There are so many things I never told her.
I could never tell either Catherine or my daughter how much they meant to me. I couldn't show them either, all I could do was hurt them. Without ever raising a hand, and usually by the stroke of my pen across paper, I've hurt them both. Never show any emotion, that's the Parker way, that's how I was raised. Regular visits to The Centre, topped up with my father's, and grandfather's before he passed away, influence and I was lost. But somewhere inside I wanted the power. Wanted it enough to take such desperate measures.
The decision to stop Catherine in turn hurt my daughter, my Angel. I called her that the first time I held her, which due to Centre commitments was two days after her birth. In retrospect I can see that it served others well for me to be out of the country. Having, at that time, thought we'd lost her twin she was my gift from heaven: my Angel. So much like her mother and not only in appearance; they were so close and all those traits that were slowly condemning Catherine were appearing in our daughter. Catherine's absence, though painful for us both, allowed me to have a greater influence on my daughter, to ensure the Parker legacy would continue. I fought against Catherine's guidance, I had to or she would have ended up just like her mother. And I couldn't face that again. I wouldn't face that again.
It all seemed to go so well; for twenty years she was the daughter I wanted, the daughter who would succeed me. I tried to mould her into me and it worked too well because she also has a weak spot: Jarod. Like Catherine was mine, Jarod is her conscience and I take soem of the blame for that. I let Catherine talk me into allowing her to meet Jarod, to make a connection with him, and in the end I had to send her to school in Europe to break them, to break her. Isolation and a foreign surrounding gave me the opportunity to start over with her. Though she never mentioned Jarod on her return I wanted to be sure. Having her work in security, like her mother, was a test she passed, either unaware or turning a blind eye to The Centre's darker projects - something her mother could never do. I continued to watch her closely, waiting for any signs of weakness to appear. Having her retrieve Jarod has been less successful. His escape, though a surprise, was an opportunity for her to prove her loyalty to me once and for all; a final test. Something she has never passed.
I know she's felt divided and it disappoints me immensely - that's not how I taught her to be. Jarod's constant probing into the past, dredging up history has changed her. I've seen glimpses of it on occasion, she's just like her mother; in turmoil, uncertain, unsure who to really trust, and asking too many questions. It's Catherine all over again. The last five years have been an echo of those days; the warnings to keep her in line, the suggestions that she can't be trusted, and the constant doubts regarding her ability. I've always rejected those inferences, protected her, all the time hoping she would prove me right. Yet she won't. Instead she'll betray The Centre. So I must too.
I'm not quite sure why I read the scrolls there and then rather than waiting until I was safely back in Blue Cove. I like to think it wasn't the pretender's goading, more my own natural curiousity; they've played such a major part in my life, having them so close... it was too tempting. They made for illuminating reading. As the words sank in all my beliefs, everything I'd embraced, crumbled, just withered away. I think at the back of my mind I was worried it would come to this; if The Centre's acquisition of Jarod seemed to prove whole heartedly the Parker legacy, then his escape, and the subsequent failures to recapture him, have led me to doubt my grandfather's words.
Yet I kept on, set in my ways, trying to hold on and in doing so I have made some hard decisions. Decisions that will be my undoing, The Centre's undoing. There's a tendency to become blase in your actions when you know what the outcome will be. When you're led to believe that your future is laden with great things, morals can be ignored, repercussions are minimal - there is no risk. You are unstoppable, indestructable - a deity. And that's a power I've relished, a legacy I was unwilling to relinquish until now. Because those decisions will force her hand and, unlike her mother, she won't fail to end the present regime at The Centre - and that's my doing too. Though she's had a decade of Catherine's influence she's had twice as many years of mine. I've taught her the ins and outs of the family business; how to deceive, how to influence others, how to use people, how to keep emotions hidden. She has the ability to end The Centre's reign, I've given her that, just as I've given her the incentive to do so. And the scrolls predict she will.
So it's because of her that I will betray The Centre first. I don't doubt the authenticity of the scrolls or the future they portray, so neither will Raines or Lyle. I can't allow them to learn of her legacy. I can't allow them to take steps to prevent it. I won't let Raines do to her what he did to Catherine. I won't let them destroy somebody else that I love.
For the first time in over sixty years I'm making a decision that's not about greed, or power, or profit. Yet she won't understand, it will feel like one more betrayal, one more indication that I don't love her, that I don't care about her. The only thing to prove my devotion is tucked in my arms and I can't let her read the scrolls. She would ask too many questions, would want to know the reasons and I would have to admit to what I've done. I couldn't bear that, to see the pain in her eyes and know that I'd caused it. Not again, not after Catherine. I know this one small act cannot make up for what I've done to her; it won't even redress the balance for the things she is aware of, for the twenty years of manipulation, for my shortcomings as her father. When she discovers what else I've done, when she finds the other sordid secrets I've kept hidden from her, she'll despise me - maybe even be glad that I'm no longer around. I've no intention of releasing my chute.
Maybe I'm taking the easy way out, maybe I'm being selfish, but the best way I can see to protect her is to take these damned scrolls to the bottom of the ocean where they belong. And she'll be free, in a way that I never was, because she'll have nothing to live up to. Her future will be her own and it doesn't matter if that path is already mapped out for her as the scrolls predict; believing in free will is better than following a life of destiny, of trying to achieve that fate. For the first time in a long time a Parker won't be bound by a cursed legacy. She will be free.
ii) 'To betray, you must first belong' (Kim Philby)
Absolution
It's a strange kind of feeling; almost like floating, in fact it almost seems like I'm not actually falling at all. But I am. Falling to my death perhaps, but most definitely falling from the pedestal my daughter placed me on. Here, surrounded by invisible forces, I feel, for the first time in a long time, free. Free from the life I leave behind. The pressure of the air around me is not as heavy as the prevailing forces of The Centre but they remind me that I never will be free. Though this feeling is fleeting, and ultimately out of my control, I know it's right.
I remember with some clarity the first time I realised my future was planned out, that I had no say in what my life would entail, that the Parker legacy would overwhelm everything else. Sitting as straight as I could on a hard backed chair, my father's warning not to fidget ringing in my ears, I fell under my grandfather's scrutiny. I tried my best to appear unafraid yet the old, withered man in front of me scared the hell out of me. I wanted to look anywhere else but at him; every time my eyes strayed to the dark corners of his office - the low light on his paper strewn desk only unmasking his weathered face and making ugly shadows of the contents of the room - I would force my attention back to his mean face; back to those beady eyes, which gleamed occasionally when he leant forward in his chair, as he began to indoctrinate me into the family business. As he told me how powerful The Centre could be, would be. To this day I am sure he mistook the fear in my own eyes for excitement as he carefully laid out my future, the distinct brogue adding to his fierce persona. At four years old I never questioned it; I would never have questioned my grandfather, or his legacy. All these years I never have, even when it's meant hurting those I love.
I hurt Catherine. She never understood what it was that we were trying to achieve. She couldn't see how great The Centre could become, didn't want to have to do the things that would ensure such a future. She blocked every path she could and sabotaged others. Maybe I should have fought for her, maybe I should have taken a stand back then, but it was too late; I was too weak, too greedy, too willing to take any steps necessary to succeed. I was on the way up (or should that be sliding down a slippery slope) locating Jarod after years of careful planning was the beginning of that shift. Everything before then had just been slowly leading up to that point; with the pretender The Centre - I - had power, real power, and my grandfather's legacy came to fruition. All I had to do was maintain the status quo - and enjoy the results.
But Catherine was my conscience. Always questioning The Centre's direction, my actions, and suggesting alternative paths to take. Her position at The Centre, a queen to my king, allowed her too much access. Everything that I adored in her became her downfall: her kindness, her integrity, her compassion. She began to interfere with projects - important projects - children began to disappear, backers pulled out. I turned a blind eye in the beginning; refused to believe what was happening because that would mean I'd have to act but eventually it was too much. Raines was constantly on my back to control her. Her open opposition to the Triumverate isolated her further and I had to make a decision, the hardest decision I've ever had to make. She was in so much turmoil by then, so much pain. She didn't know who to trust or who to turn to. She loathed me, loathed my unyielding servitude to a legacy I had never laid eyes on and I couldn't reason with her. I spent longer and longer hours at The Centre, rarely ever venturing home. The scrolls were the final straw. She'd found out about them, her endless digging into Centre secrets must have unearthed something. Or someone. Either way, it became too risky and I had to let her go. I let her go without ever telling her. There are so many things I never told her.
I could never tell either Catherine or my daughter how much they meant to me. I couldn't show them either, all I could do was hurt them. Without ever raising a hand, and usually by the stroke of my pen across paper, I've hurt them both. Never show any emotion, that's the Parker way, that's how I was raised. Regular visits to The Centre, topped up with my father's, and grandfather's before he passed away, influence and I was lost. But somewhere inside I wanted the power. Wanted it enough to take such desperate measures.
The decision to stop Catherine in turn hurt my daughter, my Angel. I called her that the first time I held her, which due to Centre commitments was two days after her birth. In retrospect I can see that it served others well for me to be out of the country. Having, at that time, thought we'd lost her twin she was my gift from heaven: my Angel. So much like her mother and not only in appearance; they were so close and all those traits that were slowly condemning Catherine were appearing in our daughter. Catherine's absence, though painful for us both, allowed me to have a greater influence on my daughter, to ensure the Parker legacy would continue. I fought against Catherine's guidance, I had to or she would have ended up just like her mother. And I couldn't face that again. I wouldn't face that again.
It all seemed to go so well; for twenty years she was the daughter I wanted, the daughter who would succeed me. I tried to mould her into me and it worked too well because she also has a weak spot: Jarod. Like Catherine was mine, Jarod is her conscience and I take soem of the blame for that. I let Catherine talk me into allowing her to meet Jarod, to make a connection with him, and in the end I had to send her to school in Europe to break them, to break her. Isolation and a foreign surrounding gave me the opportunity to start over with her. Though she never mentioned Jarod on her return I wanted to be sure. Having her work in security, like her mother, was a test she passed, either unaware or turning a blind eye to The Centre's darker projects - something her mother could never do. I continued to watch her closely, waiting for any signs of weakness to appear. Having her retrieve Jarod has been less successful. His escape, though a surprise, was an opportunity for her to prove her loyalty to me once and for all; a final test. Something she has never passed.
I know she's felt divided and it disappoints me immensely - that's not how I taught her to be. Jarod's constant probing into the past, dredging up history has changed her. I've seen glimpses of it on occasion, she's just like her mother; in turmoil, uncertain, unsure who to really trust, and asking too many questions. It's Catherine all over again. The last five years have been an echo of those days; the warnings to keep her in line, the suggestions that she can't be trusted, and the constant doubts regarding her ability. I've always rejected those inferences, protected her, all the time hoping she would prove me right. Yet she won't. Instead she'll betray The Centre. So I must too.
I'm not quite sure why I read the scrolls there and then rather than waiting until I was safely back in Blue Cove. I like to think it wasn't the pretender's goading, more my own natural curiousity; they've played such a major part in my life, having them so close... it was too tempting. They made for illuminating reading. As the words sank in all my beliefs, everything I'd embraced, crumbled, just withered away. I think at the back of my mind I was worried it would come to this; if The Centre's acquisition of Jarod seemed to prove whole heartedly the Parker legacy, then his escape, and the subsequent failures to recapture him, have led me to doubt my grandfather's words.
Yet I kept on, set in my ways, trying to hold on and in doing so I have made some hard decisions. Decisions that will be my undoing, The Centre's undoing. There's a tendency to become blase in your actions when you know what the outcome will be. When you're led to believe that your future is laden with great things, morals can be ignored, repercussions are minimal - there is no risk. You are unstoppable, indestructable - a deity. And that's a power I've relished, a legacy I was unwilling to relinquish until now. Because those decisions will force her hand and, unlike her mother, she won't fail to end the present regime at The Centre - and that's my doing too. Though she's had a decade of Catherine's influence she's had twice as many years of mine. I've taught her the ins and outs of the family business; how to deceive, how to influence others, how to use people, how to keep emotions hidden. She has the ability to end The Centre's reign, I've given her that, just as I've given her the incentive to do so. And the scrolls predict she will.
So it's because of her that I will betray The Centre first. I don't doubt the authenticity of the scrolls or the future they portray, so neither will Raines or Lyle. I can't allow them to learn of her legacy. I can't allow them to take steps to prevent it. I won't let Raines do to her what he did to Catherine. I won't let them destroy somebody else that I love.
For the first time in over sixty years I'm making a decision that's not about greed, or power, or profit. Yet she won't understand, it will feel like one more betrayal, one more indication that I don't love her, that I don't care about her. The only thing to prove my devotion is tucked in my arms and I can't let her read the scrolls. She would ask too many questions, would want to know the reasons and I would have to admit to what I've done. I couldn't bear that, to see the pain in her eyes and know that I'd caused it. Not again, not after Catherine. I know this one small act cannot make up for what I've done to her; it won't even redress the balance for the things she is aware of, for the twenty years of manipulation, for my shortcomings as her father. When she discovers what else I've done, when she finds the other sordid secrets I've kept hidden from her, she'll despise me - maybe even be glad that I'm no longer around. I've no intention of releasing my chute.
Maybe I'm taking the easy way out, maybe I'm being selfish, but the best way I can see to protect her is to take these damned scrolls to the bottom of the ocean where they belong. And she'll be free, in a way that I never was, because she'll have nothing to live up to. Her future will be her own and it doesn't matter if that path is already mapped out for her as the scrolls predict; believing in free will is better than following a life of destiny, of trying to achieve that fate. For the first time in a long time a Parker won't be bound by a cursed legacy. She will be free.