Disclaimer: The Pretender and the Profiler belong to their respective intellectual property owners.
Chapter 21
Multiple personalities.
Her diagnosis. Staring into the mirror, Maureen saw a gaunt faced woman with a sallow complexion and dark circles around her eyes. The stress, the exhaustion, the pain all left their indelible marks on her.
Turning the faucet on, as she broke her gaze away from her reflection, the haunted woman splashed her face with the welcome cold water. Several times she did this, trying to shake off the lethargy and weariness from her body. A body with a mind that was numbed to the point of paralysis. It was only through her devotion to taking care of Jarod combined with his annoying reciprocal devotion to her, which got her out of bed each day ever since finding out all the barbarities of the Centre.
Her mother raped. Faith murdered. Daddy wasn't daddy. Jacob her father. The ugly Parker Legacy. On and on and on.
Maureen looked up at her face again. Droplets of water dripped down her face concealing the tears. Maureen wondered how anyone could take what she went through and still stay sane much less live. If anyone had barged in on her right now, they would have seen her body trembling as she determinedly held on to the porcelain edge of the sink.
Identity crisis.
The other diagnosis. She grew up infused, no she amended with one firm shake of her head, brainwashed with the belief that she was a Parker, only to have Jar telling her it was all a lie. A name, a life, a self scoured away with just a few words from the man she loved.
Dr. Tushar would probably admonish her that he was the shrink, not her. But she would tell herself that having multiple personalities was one reason she was in the psychiatrist's bathroom right now.
The little girl that Jarod, loved and still love, wanted back. The sister who shed tears over a girl she hardly knew but loved unconditionally. The loving daughter who worshipped her mother but was lied to by that very same mother. The Centre's Ice Queen, the perfect servant who sought the affections and approval of a man she grew up believing to be her father but turned out to be anything but that. The offspring of a man she was ordered to kill. The newly revealed niece of a man she wanted to be her father, warts and all. The best friend of a boy whom she befriended but mocked and slandered as a grown man.
A blank slate. An empty shell. An enigma. Now, it was up to Jarod's therapist to unravel and piece back together the puzzle that went by the name of Maureen NMN Parker.
God, closing her eyes, as she took several gulps of air to tamp down her rage, she really have to contact Chang as soon as possible. She needed to get started on having her name changed. Maureen hated having that name hanging around her like an albatross.
Drying her hands and face Maureen straightened up. She looked like hell as she took in her appearance one last time. Shaking her head at the futility of concealing something that wasn't concealable, she carefully adjusted her business suit and took a deep breath.
Opening the door, she walked slowly down the short hallway to Tushar's office. Just past the doorway, Maureen took in the sight of the slight Indian-American filling out some paperwork.
"Documenting me already, doctor?" Maureen joked half-heartedly. Even to her it sounded lame.
"No, Maureen. I wish it was that simple. Just meeting some HMO requirements," he replied, in his familiar laidback voice. The doctor kept quiet about the haggard appearance of his newest patient but he was going to talk to Jarod about her condition afterwards.
"My sympathies." Maureen took in the quiet sedate atmosphere of the office. Shelves overflowing with books and journals, walls made of wood paneling, planters strategically placed to bring in something natural to spruce up the place, subdued lighting to help a patient relax and open up, a sofa, and a couple of chairs. She gathered herself and headed reluctantly back to the chair she left earlier to go to the bathroom.
The doctor graced her with a wry smile as he waited for her to sit down in the plush brown leather chair that he set aside for his patients.
"Are you ready to start, Miss Parker?" he began, but before he went further, the doctor was swiftly interrupted.
An enraged woman swiftly stalked out of the chair, slamming her hands down on the mahogany desk, as she shoved her face right into Tushar's, almost hitting the unruffled doctor.
"Never, ever, call me Miss Parker," seethed Maureen vehemently, the venom evident in her growling voice. She told him that at their first aborted session recollecting how Jarod had just finished filling out the paperwork for the receptionist when Dr. Tushar came out of the office intending to introduce himself to his newest patient. Innocently, he addressed her as Miss Parker. What he and Jarod didn't plan on was that her emotional wounds were still so raw that bringing up that hated surname set her off.
She yelled and flailed wildly at the stunned psychiatrist. Jarod tried to calm her down but she didn't pay any heed to him. Left off-balance by this unforeseen outburst, the Pretender barely managed to get her out of the office. Later, she found out that Jar called the doctor and apologize on her behalf and to reschedule the session.
Now, here she was again. Getting ready to have her mind shrunk by a shrink who should have remembered what happened the last time he tried to call her by that hated name.
Fighting the instinctive urge to back away from his fiery patient, he asked her, in a soothing tone, "Why do you not want to be called Miss Parker?"
Backing away from his desk, Maureen re-took her seat, pissed at having to remind the doctor not to call her by that hated last name. Pinning him with a long, heated look, she grudgingly spoke after mentally debating whether to answer him or not. "I am not a Parker. They are not my family. I am nothing like them."
"What are they?" Tushar asked her in a melodic voice in order to draw her out. The doctor knew whom she was talking about but he wanted her to say it aloud. "How are you not like them, Maureen?"
Why does he want me to talk about those two bastards? she groused. Seeing the expectant look on him, she knew from hanging around Syd too often, that he would patiently outwait her until she gave in and tell him what he wanted to know.
"You know who I'm talking about, doctor," an irritated Maureen said. "The tag team of evil. Mr. Parker and Dr. Raines." Volcanic rage once more surged through her body, making her dig her nails into her chair's arms as adrenaline poured into her bloodstream. The urge to kill those two murderers and rapists slowly, very slowly, crowded everything out of her mind.
Tushar displayed a thin involuntary smile at her biting description of the Parker brothers. He couldn't blame her for her hostility, not after Jarod described to him what they did to her real family and their vile plans for her. Plus, he saw, after Jarod's revelations, the DSAs which graphically showed what those two had done in the name of the Parker Legacy.
Opening his notebook and picking up his 24 carat gold pen, Tushar shifted his body into a more attentive posture. "Tell me how you feel about your father." He waited until he saw her about to speak, then he pounced. "Mr. Parker."
"He's not my father!" roared Maureen vehemently. Her hands turned into fists as she used them to pound the chair's armrests. "I'll never call him my father!"
The doctor sat still for minutes until the storm abated then said, "You're right." Stop. "You called him Daddy." He waited for the inevitable explosion. Tushar was not disappointed.
"Fuck you!" an enraged woman shot out of her chair and stalked over to the door. Her body was visibly shaking with anger as she violently pulled the door open, letting it banged loudly into the wall, and stormed out.
The psychiatrist sighed heavily. Yet another of his patient stormed out leaving a very visible mark of their wounded psyche on his office wall. Once more, the recently patched hole in the wall just got damaged. Building maintenance was not going to be happy with him. Again.
Maureen wanted to kick Tushar's ass but her parole officer would have been unhappy at that prospect. So mad was she that she walked right into Jarod.
"Maureen?" puffed out Jarod, as he recovered from the collision. The therapy session was only about twenty minutes long when she stormed out of Tushar's office. "What did he say to you?" he asked worriedly. His own experience with the psychiatrist left him with no doubt that the doctor picked at one of her open wounds.
"I don't want to talk about it," Maureen brusquely told him, as she brushed past him eager to get out of there. She needed to get away, to not discuss about that fucking murderer who destroyed her life. Hell, her entire family.
Jarod was about to speak to her again when he caught Tushar standing in the doorway gazing somberly at the back of the departing woman. He swallowed whatever he was about to say as he waited until the outer door closed behind Maureen.
"You must have a gift for pissing off your patients," Jarod coldly observed. "I'm surprised that you still got a thriving practice."
"Not a gift, Jarod," Tushar said. Giving him a knowing look, he added, "I just have patients who have difficulty facing their problems."
Jarod deliberately adopted an ignorant attitude. "Really."
"Yes, really" replied Tushar blandly, leaving the doorway to step closer to Jarod. "Today's not your day, Jarod. It's Maureen's. Convince her to come back here. Today, if you don't mind." Languidly, he continued. "I did set aside the entire day for her. Just like I did for you when you're having difficulty dealing with issues."
The Pretender fought down a nasty retort as he just grunted.
The doctor took off his glasses to clean them. While he was wiping the lens with his shirt, he told the silent Jarod, "She needs help, Jarod. I can help her but you have to convince her that she can't run away every time I bring up the names of very unpleasant people and the tragic events in her life." Finished cleaning, he put them on and with a shooing motion of his hands, "Well, go on."
After a curt nod to him, Jarod walked out of the doctor's office and chased after Maureen.
Maureen leaned against the front passenger door, her right foot tapping impatiently for Jar to appear. She looked around the crowded parking lot, feeling the Sun beating down on her. The brunette can tell that it was starting to get hot and humid today. The forecast said it was going to be the start of a heat wave which was one reason why she was eager to get back to the house.
She gnashed her teeth in silent rebuke for not thinking to take her car rather than listened to Jarod who insisted that he drive her for her second session with Dr. Tushar. Now, she had to stand here broiling in the Sun in her stuffy business suit.
Just then, she saw Jar coming out of the medical building's main entrance. Sighing in relief, thinking that they can go home now, she straightened herself away from the Lexus.
When Jarod drew up to her, she said, "Let's get outta here, Jar. I'm starting to feel like a roast in the oven."
Jarod made no move to unlock the door as well as ignoring her pithy remark. Rather, he stood in front of her and took in her appearance. She made a good attempt to look professional but the bags under her eyes, the pained look that seemed to have become a permanent fixture in her blue-gray eyes which were red rimmed, and the lines radiating from her mouth were all indicators of the ordeal she underwent last weekend.
Gathering his thoughts, he spoke gently to her. "We need to go back, Maureen. Dr. Tushar would like to finish his session with you." His personal irritation with the doctor didn't diminish his grudging recognition that Tushar was a very good therapist. It was why he called the psychiatrist on that Sunday morning after Maureen succumbed to all the horrible secrets that her best friends revealed to her.
Maureen glared daggers at her man. "Hell, no." Folding her arms in front of her chest, she emphatically told him, "I'm not going to let that quack school reject poke around my head."
Jarod felt his ire stirring as he heard her answer. He displayed it when he retorted, "What will you do then, huh? Wake up every night screaming from your nightmares?" Giving her a withering look, he added, "Like you have been doing since Sunday?"
Aggravated, and not liking being put on the defensive, she spoke brusquely, "I got things under control, Jar. It was a mistake to come here again. Once was enough with Doc Painless." Letting her hands drop to her sides, she opined, "Now, I understand why you call Tushar a pain in the ass."
"You're right, he is a pain in the ass," agreed Jarod, tamping down his joy at hearing her agree with him on something rather than disagreeing with him because it originated with him. "I hate to admit it but he is a damn good therapist and a better listener. He can help you," then displaying a helpless gesture for her, "because I can't. Not with this."
His deep-seated fear was that Maureen would fall back to her old crutches: pills, alcohol, and her above average capacity for self-denial. Jarod was terrified that if left alone, she might become another damn statistic who succumbed to their addictions and died all alone.
A simulation that he didn't need to dream up at all to be absolutely worried about it coming true. Just as he was beginning to accept her into his life again, and, more worrisome, into his heart.
Her exhaustion, physical and spiritual, temporarily forgotten as she automatically denied what she was hearing coming out of Jarod's mouth. "You have helped me, Jar. You have been there for me since you and Timmy explained all of the Centre's skeletons." Literally, in the Centre's case.
Yes, just like he vowed he would. He was there for her right after Maureen's mind overloaded from all the no longer secrets of the Centre.
After fainting from her outburst, Jarod picked her up and laid her on her bed. Tim came in, unasked, just in time to help the Pretender pull the blanket up to cover their grief stricken friend.
The two men then took turns watching her; afraid to leave her alone, worried about her condition, mental and physical. Sitting by her bedside, Timmy as well as Jarod, held her hands. But when at last she awoke, she laid curled up in a fetal position, deliberately ignoring her best friends, not wanting to do anything except to hide from a world she no longer understand or be a part of.
Jarod and Timmy would try to talk to her, hoping to coax her out of her shell, all to no avail. The hours passed. Day turned to night. Still, Maureen showed no response. Not even bothering to get up and use the bathroom. The men's fears rose with each passing hour. The fear grew strong enough that the Pretender called the one man who could help. Dr. Tushar, his psychiatrist with whom he had had a long and prickly relationship with ever since the Sears Tower attack. After succinctly describing to the doctor what Maureen was going through and agreeing to do what the doctor recommended for her immediately, Jarod hurriedly agreed to a date and time for Maureen's first session with the psychiatrist.
Done with the annoying doctor, the Pretender followed Tushar's orders. He did everything he could think of to let Maureen know he was with her every step of the way. Jarod rubbing her back, lacing his fingers through hers, whispering youthful memories of their more innocent and fun escapades in the bowels of the sublevels were among the things he tried. Finally, telling Tim that nothing was working, he was going to try one more thing. Something he didn't want to for fear of betraying Rachel's memory but peering down at the motionless woman he had no choice but to try it. It was also something that Tushar would have not condoned if he ever found out about it.
Tim placed his hand on Jarod's shoulder in understanding and left the room. Quelling the jitters inside him, Jarod delicately crawled into her bed and held her. Once more, he brushed his fingers through her brown hair contrasting them to Rachel's vibrant red hair, seeking to comfort Maureen. Quiet stillness filled the room with the only sounds being heard was of two people breathing, almost in sync.
The couple stayed that way, with Jarod stirring occasionally only when Tim popped in to check up on him and to bring them some light snacks which stayed untouched and water that only Jarod sipped haphazardly.
Ultimately giving in to his frustrations and worries, Jarod picked her up and took her into the bathroom to clean her up. Maureen didn't resist as she lay limp in his arms.
He was finally gratified to see the first response from her as she haltingly took care of her bodily functions, giving her the privacy by turning his back on her, and then helping her into the shower. Jarod, however, wasn't going to leave her alone, still frightened of what she might do if left unattended.
After assisting her out of the shower stall, Jarod helped her dry off, all the time keeping his eye firmly locked on her face. Once that was accomplished, they slowly walked back into the bedroom.
Rather than heading back to the bed, Maureen wordlessly guided them to the chair by the window. Using some pressure of her hand she indicated to Jarod to sit down first on the chair. He carefully sat down, unsure what to expect next from the disconsolate and heartbroken woman.
Jarod didn't need to wait long for his answer as once Maureen saw him seated comfortably, she quickly sat down on his lap and rested her head in the crook of his shoulder and her arms lay on his chest.
Instinctively, the former prisoner of the Centre wrapped his arms around her. "Maureen?" whispered Jarod, hoping she would speak.
A low pitched keening noise emitted from Maureen. She squeezed closer, switching her arms from his chest to around his chest, and drawing her legs under her. Catherine's daughter closed her eyes as she continued to remain silent.
It was an awkward position for her, Jarod perceived, but he kept it to himself. Instead, he moved his hands slowly up and down her back trying to figure out another way to get through to her.
He was slightly gladdened that Maureen chose not to go straight back to bed right away but rather to the chair where they were now sitting on. Maybe…, he began, when she chose that moment to break her silence.
"Warm," slurred Maureen. She remained still as she began talking once more.
Jarod darted his eye down to her when he heard her spoke up for the first time since blacking out. Smoothing her straight brown hair, he told her softly, "It is getting warm. Do you want to go somewhere cooler, Maureen?" The sunlight pouring in through the window was getting warmer with each passing minute he noticed.
"No," she shot out, her voice an octave higher. With less force, she repeated, "No." Tightening her hold on Jarod, she tacked on, "You're warm."
The scarred man was rendered speechless by her declaration. Instead, what he did was to pull her in just a little closer and gave her a peck on the forehead.
Their "moments" were happening on a regular basis now. No, shaking his head gently not wanting to disturb her, they were becoming routine. He was taking a step into the known, not the unknown. He knew how this relationship would end up if he permit it. He was the only obstacle preventing it from happening.
The question was when not if, finally admitting it to himself. That little boy in him wanted her, all of her. While the broken, wounded man never want to hurt again. The hurt of losing someone you love more than life itself. Rachel's smiling face appeared again before his mind's eye.
Just now, with Maureen fiercely gripping him, as if afraid of being swept away in a storm, Jarod had to take care of her immediate needs and worry about their future later.
"Look at me," ordered Jarod softly, not wanting to upset her. But he had to get her out of her cocoon.
She whimpered out, "No." Maureen just crushed their bodies closer.
Putting his right hand carefully under her chin, he gently forced her head up so he could make eye contact with her.
Jarod sighed heavily. Her eyes were tightly shut. "Maureen, I want to help you. Tim wants to help you." Swallowing hard because he knew was about to take a momentous step forward. The lonely boy won this round. "Trust me, Maureen." He touched his forehead to hers. "Come back to me, please…"
Maureen didn't want to open her eyes again. The way she had to earlier when Jarod carried her into the bathroom and made her attend to her body. She couldn't bear to look at herself in the mirror.
She didn't know who or what she was anymore. Maureen wasn't even sure how to respond to the hidden secrets, the terrible lies, and the horrific abuses that Jarod and Timmy disclosed which overwhelmed her.
Momma's…heart clenching…rapes at the hands of Raines was the last straw. Maureen didn't want to go on anymore. She wanted to curl up and just die. To be with Momma and Faith forever and away from this cruel and unforgiving life. A life that brought her tears rather than laughter, more pain less joy, nightmares instead of peace.
But in that darkness there was a light. A light that refuse to be snuff out. A light that brought her warmth and solace when nothing else comforted in her despair and pain.
Jarod.
She didn't want to listen to him as he devotedly told her how he and Tim cared about her, how concerned they were, and that they were there for her. Jar delicately reminding her of their happier Centre exploits. She didn't want to listen to that hypnotic voice. Nevertheless, she did listen because his voice was the calm eye of the storm that was tearing her apart.
Then a word and a plea from Jar broke through her melancholia.
Trust. Come back.
Maureen always trusted Jarod. Even when she was ordered to bring him back to the Black Hole of Delaware. She lost Jarod once resulting in a destiny thwarted. Upon regaining her freedom, she vowed never to let that ever happen again.
Unwillingly, Maureen opened her eyes and slowly pulled away from their contact. She saw Jar's remaining brown eye and its companion black eye patch watching her. The worry so evident, not just in the eye, but in the way his scarred face was tensed up.
"Maureen," Jarod hissed in relief. She felt him kissing her again on the forehead. "Stay with me."
"Jarod," she said in a small voice. Maureen couldn't form words because she literally didn't know where to begin.
Did it begin with the scrolls, the Parker Legacy, Momma's love affair, or one of the other ugly Centre cover-ups that her two friends exposed to her?
The Pretender took in the hurt, bewilderment, disillusionment so expressive in her hollowed out eyes. He felt her struggling to come to terms with what she learned, trying to make sense of what was happening to her.
"Hi," a careful half-grin appeared on his face as his lovingly brushed her hair away from her face. "Do you want to talk?" His voice was soft and gentle. The last thing he wanted right now was for her to withdraw back into her shell. "Are you hungry?"
Maureen wasn't ready to talk about the collapse of her so-call life. And though she felt her hungry stomach rumbled she ignored it as she tried to recall what she did before blacking out.
Vaguely, the daughter of Catherine and Jacob remembered lashing out at someone. A convenient target for her to unleash her anger and pain. No, she corrected, sitting up and staring at his wearied and unshaven face. It was Jarod.
"I hurt you," she said distressingly, upset at what she did to him. She let her arms drop from his chest and cradled his face. Her long legs, cramped from their position, shifted to rest over one of the armrests. Maureen felt guilt cropping up for hurting the one man she never, ever wanted to hurt anymore. "I didn't mean to hurt you."
"Shh," soothed Jarod. "You didn't hurt me that bad." He wanted to tell Maureen a little white lie to prevent her from becoming more distraught than she already was. However, the Pretender wouldn't lie to her. No matter how justified it may seem. Her life already had more than its share of lies. Ruefully and very painfully, he was reminded of how strong she can be. His torso bore prominent reminders of her grief-tinged outburst but he wasn't going to show them to her.
"Not that bad?" worry colored her question. She slowly ran her hands over his jaw feeling her fingers tickled by the stubble there. "What do you mean by that?"
A succoring smile appeared, trying to allay her concern. "Just a few bruises." Jarod couldn't suppress a moan of pleasure as her hands traced the outline of his face. He remembered, without any pain now, the last time something like this was done. Back when Rachel was still alive.
Unplanned and unintentionally, Jarod got her out of her protective cocoon by diverting her attention to something else other than the Centre's horrors.
"Let me see," demanded Maureen, as she placed her hands on his shoulders.
Jarod was uncomfortable. The last time he let her see his body was that wondrous night when he almost gave in to his feelings for her and told her he trusted her. A night with its share of turning points.
Maureen can tell he was discomfited by her request. In fact, as she slowly fought her way out of the despair she was wallowing in, taking care of Jarod was the perfect antidote for what was afflicting her. Something she can use to help her subconscious process the life changing ramifications of the Centre's secrets on her. "Jarod?" she nudged softly.
"Lean back a little," he told her, giving in to her entreaty. When she complied, Jarod reached down and carefully pulled up his black t-shirt.
Maureen was rooted in place when she saw the revolting bruises on his already scarred torso. Her lips trembled, "Oh, Jar. I'm so sorry." Carefully, she placed her hands on his upper chest where the majority of bruises were located. Locking gazes with him, she said as the earlier shakiness in her voice was replaced with a more assured tone, "We need to ice this down. C'mon." She got up carefully from Jarod's lap, heedful of his injuries. Maureen held her hand out to him.
Jarod attention was riveted on her outstretched hand. Emotions that died with Rachel resurfaced as he continued to stare at it. Taking a deep breath he reached out and placed his hand in hers.
"Let's go get the ice," announced Maureen, all too aware of what was going on in Jar's heart.
"Trust me."
Jarod's request hung between them. Maureen shifted uneasily, torn between her wish to get back to the house and his desire for her to go back to see Dr. Tushar. The aggravating thing was that he was using her trust in him to do what he wanted.
The Pretender saw the uncertainty in her stance. He didn't blame her. Her carefully constructed life as a Parker, as a Centre operative, the methodically crafted image of her family were pulled right out from under her. Jarod thought guiltily that it was he who did it to her. So far, she didn't accused him or blame him for her predicament. But he wouldn't be surprise if that prospect didn't crop up sometime soon.
Picking his words carefully, Jarod said to her, "I would never take you to him if I didn't thought it wasn't good for your health. You know that I would never hurt you." In that instant, Jarod chose to use something on her that he hadn't used since they were children. He flashed her his puppy eye look. The Pretender knew that she was extremely vulnerable to it.
Maureen breathed heavily. She did know that Jar wouldn't hurt her. The warmth and evident concern in his voice and manner as he helped her through the last several days made it very clear that hurting her was not on his agenda. Far from it.
"He better have his insurance paid up," Maureen grudgingly said, giving in to Jarod's look. She bit back a giggle at seeing the puppy dog look on him. Even with one eye it was still devastatingly effective.
"I'm sure Tushar got that covered. Why?" asked a puzzled Jarod.
Striding slowly back to the doctor's office, forcing Jarod to back up, she answered, "If that shrink of yours start asking me if I have an Electra complex, he's going to wind up with my foot up his ass."
Jarod couldn't help but grin. Deeply wounded and bearing new scars, Maureen was bowed, bloodied, but not broken. She was coming back and he was falling…
A/N: This is just a prologue for my upcoming chapters that I'll be posting in the next several days after editing and revising. The forthcoming chapters will comprise my original chapter 21. Ninety five pages, including this chapter, of Miss Parker for your reading pleasure.
As part of my plot, Miss Parker will be psychoanalyzed. In reading the Pretender fanfics here, I noticed there were little, if any, stories examining her mental and emotional baggage, for the lack of a better word.
Therefore, I'm taking it upon myself to give it a shot at having her head examined. The JMPR will be on the periphery while we concentrate on Miss Parker and her psychiatrist.
If you're wondering where this came from, it's part of my original plot. So far, I've stuck with it and am still pleased with the direction of my story.
Please read and review.
Thanks.