"You'll never find any thing, Parker."

"Really? And what makes you so sure of that?"

"Because the only copies, ever, of the Sekhmet files are right here," Ellian raised three data disks. She moved in closer to Miss Parker and whispered in her ear. "Unfortunately, you're mother's safety depends on them remaining a secret."

Parker raised her eyebrows.

"You'd also be surprised at whose genes were used in the project. Actually, if you factor in all the gene splicing used in Sekhmet, the subject has quite a few 'parents'."

"Tyler?! Focus," Parker interrupted.

"Several eggs were obtained from you mother and used in Sekmet." Ellian pulled out a picture and showed it to the three. "This is the first - and only - viable infant born in the project 40 years ago."

She set the photo on the desk, revealing a picture of an infant Vincent.

"Raines abandoned the project after…the child disappeared and certain pressures came to bear on him. At any rate, other projects soon captured his interest. Until 15 years ago, that is."

She pulled out another picture and set it on the desk, revealing a 15-year-old version of the last picture.

"It seems Jarod isn't the only one he cloned."

My Son, Jarod - Spring 2001, Helper's Alley Bar & Grill, Manhattan, NY

She looked down at puppy brown eyes inhabiting a face possessed of a burden beyond his years. Could this photograph possibly capture the man her son had become? She looked again at the front door, wishing, hoping.

The sound of breaking glass and spilled food interrupted her train of thought and she turned to look behind her. She watched as the man in the photograph apologized profusely and helped the waitress to pile food and broken dishes onto a tray in slow motion.

The two stood up and Jarod looked over in her direction.

"Mom," he mouthed incredouslously, and started towards her. She could barely move as he embraced her, hardly believing he was here.

* * *

Xerox Copy - Spring 2001, Warehouse District, Manhattan, NY

The padded walls were in shreds again. Muffled thuds and the scraping of claws were faintly audible even through the soundproofing.

"He's digressing," the older man wheezed. "Whatever you've been doing lately to make him manageable, you'd better figure out why it's not working anymore."

Ellian sighed. That was the problem. It was a strain for Vincent to see the boy so constantly in a state he had struggled against himself. Their last meeting, in the special no surveillance room with nearby tunnel access, had been a disaster. Damien's anger and temper had been encouraged and provoked at every opportunity under Raines' care. Vincent's slow progress with him had suddenly self destructed with no explanation. All her efforts to get him to come back were rebuffed and she was beginning to think that it might not be a good idea for Vincent's mental state to come back.

"If you wanted him manageable, you should've started to think about that before now, Mr. Raines. Balls of anger rarely allow themselves to be managed."

"I wanted a being that would consume everything in it's path, a superior soldier."

"Congratulations, Mr. Parker. You got half of what you wanted. That's getting to be your track record, isn't it?" The young woman walked away, yelling at one of the guards to drug Damien before he hurt himself.

In the Depths of Despair - Spring, 2001, Drainage Pipe Below Central Park Concert Stage, Manhattan, NY

Vincent sat, listening desperately to the sounds of the concert music above. They were playing Bach tonight. He listened as the music ebbed and swelled, searching for the peace it had brought him in the past. He couldn't though. All he could see was Damien.

They'd grappled. Damien lunged, throwing all of his considerable weight at Vincent. Startled at the vehemence of the attack, Vincent fell backward. Damien crashed on top of him. Vincent barely got his arms up before Damien began to slash wildly at his head and upper torso.

"Is this how your precious Catherine felt, Vincent, the first time you coupled?" Damien ranted as he attacked. Vincent couldn't breath. Damien seemed so much more heavy on his chest. "Did she throw up her arms? Did she scream for help? Did they have to pull you off her? Did they pump you full of drugs to calm you down and make you manageable?"

Vincent roared and cuffed Damien. They rolled on the floor in each others grasp, each trying to get the upper hand. A powerful backhand knocked Damien out and Vincent almost gave the killing stroke before coming out of the rage.

He ran. He left the boy laying on the floor and he ran. Through the tunnels, up through Central Park and down into the deepest chambers. After 12 years, he still couldn't remember the night Jacob Charles had been conceived. Despite all of Catherine's and Father's assurances, he still couldn't rid himself of the doubt that it had occurred exactly as Damien had said.

Vincent heard footsteps and closed his eyes, hoping whoever it was would pass him by.

He didn't.

"Ellian tells me something happened with Damien," Jarod observed as he as he slid down the wall next to Vincent.

"I do not need you to put my life right," Vincent snapped.

"I suppose only you can do that, Vincent."

"I still don't remember that night."

"What night?" Jarod asked.

"The night Jacob was conceived. I wasn't myself. She swears I didn't hurt her, but..." Vincent trailed off.

"Damien brought up something that brought that to the fore."

Vincent nodded. "I see in Damien...what I will be if I lose control. He's 4 years older than Jacob."

Jarod put his hand on Vincent's shoulder. "Jacob won't turn into Damien. You're a good father. I look at you with your kids. I wish my father would have been able to be there for me like that."

Vincent turned his head and tried to ferret out some deception. He couldn't.

"There might be a way to help you remember."

Vincent looked at Jarod suspiciously.

"I was a hypnotist once, no twice actually. Once in Los Vegas, once in Venice Beach. It's worth a shot," Jarod shrugged, almost casually.

"Regression therapy?" Vincent looked at Jarod, not daring to hope.