Note: The characters of Jarod, Miss Parker and Sydney are property of TNT, blah, blah, blah. I have no intention of ever making any money off this story, so please don't sue me. This is only my way of giving major kudos to a show I love. No copyright infringements intended. Besides, I have no money anyway. What's the worst anyone could do?
Also I would like to add that for me the two Pretender movies just didn't flow too well with the series. It was like the writers went off on an acid trip. Too much weirdness in a series that had been all about redeeming oneself from one's past demons, coming to terms with grief and someone with "super" powers helping the little guy. It (the series) was creatively and well written. There are so many questions they never answered with the movies and just ended up making more questions that go unanswered. Enough of my griping, all I wanted to say really is that my story is pre-Pretender 2000/IOTH movies. So basically they never happened in my world. *eg*
The song at the beginning and end of this story is called In the End/ENTH E ND by Linkin Park. Written by Linkin Park © 2000 Zomba Music/Chesterchaz Publishing/Big Bad Mr. Hahn Music/Nondisclosure Music/Rob Bourdon Music/Kenji Kobayashi Music BMI … etc. The original version appears on the album Hybrid Theory and the remixed version appears on Reanimation, featuring Kutmasta Kurt and Motion Man. For ENTH E ND I edited the 2nd verse out because it was a rap verse and I wasn't about to try and write it down, I also edited some of the "remixed" parts, otherwise both songs are in their entirety. Again, no copyright infringements are intended; I'm just giving it up for a group I love!
In The End
It starts with
One thing I don't know why
It doesn't even matter how hard you try
Keep that in mind I designed this rhyme
To explain in due time
All I know
Time is a valuable thing
Watch it fly by as the pendulum swings
Watch it count down to the end of the day
The clock ticks life away
It's so unreal
Didn't look out below
Watch the time go right out the window
Trying to hold on but didn't even know
Wasted it all just to
Watch you go
I kept everything inside and even though I tried it all fell apart
What it meant to me will eventually be a memory of a time when
I tried so hard
And got so far
But in the end
It doesn't even matter
I had to fall
And lose it all
But in the end
It doesn't even matter
One thing I don't know why
Doesn't even matter how hard you try
Keep that in mind I designed this rhyme
To remind myself how
I tried so hard
In spite of the way you were mocking me
Acting like I was part of your property
Remembering all the times you fought with me I'm surprised
It got so (far)
Things aren't the way they were before
You wouldn't even recognize me anymore
Not that you knew me back then
But it all comes back to me
In the end
You kept everything inside and even though I tried it all fell apart
What it meant to me will eventually be a memory of a time when
I tried so hard
And got so far
But in the end
It doesn't even matter
I had to fall
And lose it all
But in the end
It doesn't even matter
I put my trust in you
Pushed as far as I could go
And for all this
There's only one thing you should know…
I tried so hard
And got so far
But in the end
It doesn't even matter
I had to fall
And lose it all
But in the end
It doesn't even matter
Back From the Future Again
A Short Story By Sylver
The air ducts were cramped and stifling as he moved through them, vowing to himself even as he crawled that he would never return to this place. Never again. He promised himself that he would do anything, even die, rather than live this life as a lab rat, a guinea pig, nothing more than property for them to use as they saw fit. He wouldn't look back, he would finally be free!
He rounded a bend, thinking soon he could know all about the world they'd hidden him from for so many years. Thirty-three years of his life were stolen from him; he'd be damned if he'd allow anyone else to steal another moment of his time.
Regrets filled his mind. The truth pressed in around him. He had caused so much suffering, so much death. His mind had created so many things, better foundational designs for buildings, better engines, better anti-viruses he'd created the super viruses to make. It didn't matter if he had done all those things unknowing of their consequences, he was a genius, he should have known better.
Never again.
He came to the venting that would lead him to the bowels of the Centre, which would in turn lead him to his freedom. He pushed the screen barring his path and watched it clatter to the ground, the noise from the fans covering the sound it made. He jumped down, landing on his feet with all the grace of a predator, his lean body moving lithely, in an almost primal rhythm all its own.
His dark eyes cast quick glances about to be certain he was alone, he moved stealthily around the air conditioning units that controlled the temperature of the monstrous building that was the Centre. Shadows lay everywhere, menacing and dangerous if someone were lurking there, laying in wait.
He shook off those thoughts; no one knew what he planned, though they should have after everything they had done to him. They didn't care. At least about him. Even Sydney had lied to him for all those years.
A shadow moved, and then a darkened figure separated as if it had been conjured straight from the very pit of hell. The way it moved, the silhouette it formed seemed so very familiar to Jarod, yet he didn't know who it was. There was no way it was Angelo, or any one of the many sweepers that patrolled the Centre. This was someone who was much more dangerous.
"Hello Jarod," a sinister voice reached out to him, sounding raspy and grim.
Anger coursed through Jarod. Even now they still thought to control him. He let out a hissing breath, crouched low to the ground in defensive posture.
"I'm not going back. I don't know who you are, but I would rather die than go back," Jarod warned.
The shadowed figure shifted slightly, seemed to wince at his words, "I know, Jarod, but unfortunately you have little choice in the matter," the shadow told him.
A rising panic filled Jarod. He couldn't go back now! He was too close. But before any coherent thoughts of action could form in his mind, the shadow struck suddenly and without warning even for Jarod who usually could predict such moves.
His opponent stunned him by punching him in his jaw, and then pummeled his abdomen with quick, sharp jabs. Before he even knew what was happening, he was lying flat on his back, the shadow leaning over him, breathing heavily. A soft ray of light illuminated the man before him, only barely, but he could make out the dark clothing that made not even a whisper as the man moved, and the mask that covered his entire face, all but his eyes, which were dark and as pain-filled as his own haunted eyes were.
"Who are you?" Jarod demanded.
A soft breath was released from the man, something about the way he stood made Jarod think he'd suffered a great deal and his whole heart wasn't in what he did at the moment. Yet, he answered him, almost unwillingly.
"A ghost, Jarod. I am no more than a ghost."
The very next thing Jarod knew, a dark cloth was thrown over his body and he was tied up, his hands behind his back. Something small and sharp pricked his arm. His mind screamed as the medicine almost immediately began to take effect. A darkness more stifling that the one he faced under the smothering cloth, began to devour him. Just before he succumbed, he heard a whisper, "I'm sorry, Jarod."
He struggled to wake up; though he couldn't quite remember what was so urgent, he only knew something was wrong. He fought against the heaviness that weighted his mind down. He clawed his way through it, until he began to feel what was around him.
He was sitting on a chair. His hands and feet were bound to it by lengths of rope which chafed against his skin. He was blindfolded, but when he opened his eyes, he could make out a bright light eclipsed by the strip of cloth covering his eyes. His chin rested against his chest, sweat trickled down his back and forehead because the air was so still, as if he were in a tomb.
"Good, you're awake," the voice of his captor sounded off to his left somewhere, not too far away.
Jarod lifted his head and pulled at the ropes binding him, though he knew it was futile, raw instincts ran strong in him. He wished for the strength to be able to break the ropes and escape.
"Who are you? What do you want with me?" Jarod demanded, his voice edged with panic. God, how he hated the darkness, hated being bound. So many times he had simulated such things . . . it brought back the nightmares he fought against. Memories that hung on the outskirts of his conscious thought, which taunted him when he was asleep, but slipped away when he was awake.
He heard his captor moving about, his footsteps muffled against the floor. He seemed to be pacing. Why?
"I am . . . nothing. As to what I want from you, I want you to behave yourself until Miss Parker and Sydney find you in a few hours."
A desperation overcame Jarod. He couldn't stay here! It was slowly killing him, draining his very soul, his life. He had to be free.
"Stop struggling, Jarod, you'll only hurt yourself."
"That's easy for you to say. You're not the one who is trapped by this place," Jarod snapped bitterly.
"Aren't I Jarod? How do you know I'm not?"
"Whoever you are, I don't care, just let me go. I can't stay here another day. I can't let them use me anymore. Can you understand that? I just want to be free," Jarod whispered his voice raw with fear and panic.
A bitter, caustic laugh sounded, "Better than you know, Jarod. However, I have no choice but to make certain you do not escape now, or in the future."
"How can you do this then? If you understand what I am speaking of, how can you help them? Or have you no soul? No feeling? Another puppet the Centre holds the strings to?"
He heard the man growl and then felt him in his face, the heat from his body emanating and almost scorching Jarod with its intensity.
"I do this because they took everything from me. Everything. Everyone I loved was killed because I wanted what you crave. Freedom. Ultimately, it was the people I never meant to hurt who paid for my selfishness. I do this so you won't have to face that kind of reality. Do you want to watch Sydney die? Hold Parker as she breathes her last breath in your arms, her blood covering your hands. Is that what you want? It doesn't matter if you escape now, Jarod, because they will punish you for it and bring you back anyway. Only the price you pay will be greater than you ever imagine it could be."
By the way the man spoke, with such anger and pain, it didn't take a genius to know that he had lived through what he threatened would happen to Jarod. It was all there in his voice, the horror of it.
"Tell me," Jarod urged quietly.
A harsh breath escaped, footsteps retreated a distance away. There was no sound in the room except for the frantic beating of Jarod's heart. His only hope was in trying to build a bond with this man, feel his pain and make him see that no matter the cost, he had to be free.
"I escaped, Jarod, like you all I wanted was relief from my torment. For years, I taunted them, played the games. I let them get close, then I'd dance away, all the while mocking them. One day, I'd had enough. I disappeared completely, married the woman of my dreams and even was foolish enough to have children by her."
Jarod already knew, but he had to ask, "What happened?" he whispered.
Another bitter laugh sounded, "Can't you guess? I got careless and they found us. They murdered my family, my wife died in my arms. Her last words were, "I love you," and then she was dead," his voice broke, "My children were kidnapped and I was dragged back to the Centre. All of it was my fault," broken sobs were heard, "I should have never let them get that close!"
Jarod empathized with every pretender ability he had. It would probably break him if he ever experienced something so devastating.
"How did you know I was going to escape?" Jarod wondered. It was one of the many questions burning in his mind at the moment.
"I'm a pretender, Jarod. I can become anyone that I want to be."
He had been afraid of that.
"You know I will never survive here. If they don't finally tire of me and kill me, I'll find my escape in death. I can't let them use me to hurt the innocent anymore. How many more people will die if I stay here? How many innocents will suffer because of what I thought up?" Jarod argued.
"God, I don't know Jarod. I don't have the answers. I only want to escape the pain I feel. What I feel now would make a mockery of your feelings. Can you live with yourself if you escaped and were responsible for your loved one's deaths?"
"But I could learn from your mistakes. I am not stupid."
His captor sucked in a sharp breath, "Could it be possible?" he asked uncertainly, slowly as if talking to himself.
"What? What are you thinking?" Jarod wanted to know.
There was silence for several moments before he heard a bark of laughter from the man who had outsmarted him, captured him.
"You wanted to know who I am, Jarod, well," he said as he pulled off the blindfold, which blinded Jarod momentarily from the unaccustomed light hitting his eyes, "See for yourself."
Tears blurred his vision, so he blinked them away, squinting, trying to make out the face before him. Features began to come into focus and he wanted to deny what he saw. It was impossible.
Before him, was an older man with dark, obsidian eyes. Though his face was aged by time, he was thinner, but there was a familiar mole just under his right eye. The jaw was still angular, though he had a double chin. The hair was still dark for the most part, yet there was wings of silver at his temples, and pronounced laugh lines around his eyes.
"I know what you're thinking Jarod, but believe it. I am you. Or at least what you will become in twenty-five years."
Jarod shook his head, trying to deny what he saw with his eyes and he knew could be a possibility given the right technology.
"How?" he managed to strangle out.
His older counter-part smiled at him, a charming roguish smile he didn't even know he possessed, "Explaining the hows and whys of it would take longer than we've got, Jarod. In short, I will tell you only what you need to know to prevent my reality from becoming yours."
As the older Jarod untied him, Jarod reached out with his free hand and touched the man's face. Could it be real then and not some very life-like hallucination brought on by too much stress and pretending?
"I can't believe it," he whispered.
Helping the younger man up, the older Jarod only grinned at him, "Snap out of it, Jarod, we've got a lot of ground to cover and very little time left. Listen carefully and remember," he told the younger man.
Nodding, Jarod listened as his older self outlined the events that had led up to what was happening now. Sydney's death, then his wife's, last of all, his children's deaths that had rocked him to his very core.
"Sydney dies in February of 2007 in a car bombing. After that, you disappear with your wife. The Centre doesn't find you until 2022. On May 13th they storm your house, shoot your wife. After you escape with the kids, they find you two weeks later holed up in a grungy motel. They take both the kids and drag you back to the Centre on May 27th."
"I won't let them hurt us anymore, Jarod. I'll stop them. I swear it," the younger Jarod vowed.
A ghost of a smile hovered at the edge of the older Jarod's mouth, he nodded and replied, "I know you will Jarod, I know you will. Now leave quickly. You can't be here when they discover you've escaped."
He watched as his younger self disappeared into the shadows, and he prayed that his future would be better for having done what he did. The Powers That Be wouldn't be happy with this if he didn't.
He pulled the small metal casing out of his pocket. It looked so innocuous, like a TV remote control, yet it had the power to move him anywhere in time he would wish to go. Yet there was only one place he wanted to see right now. In particular, one person he couldn't wait to see.
Strange how he had never thought to correct the horrible events that led up to his figuring out time travel. He only hoped that he could still do it even without the pressure of the Centre.
He pushed several buttons, programming the key to take him back to the day he left. In a flash of light, he was gone.
This was not the place he had departed from. This was not the Centre.
Jarod looked around, memories assaulted him. Two different sets interposed over each other. Only this time, he had succeeded in keeping his loved ones safe.
"You did it, Jarod," he breathed.
The garage housed an old '66 Shelby Cobra he was restoring, his tools, and the machine that he had built. It looked almost like a port-a-potty from the turn of the century. He looked at it and marveled that he had done it.
"Jarod! Are you finished puttering with your toys yet?" a familiar voice asked from the house.
A too-wide grin stretch over his face. Parker.
"Yes, I'm coming in right now!" he called to her.
"Good, because dinner's almost ready," came the reply.
He closed his eyes and breathed a prayer of thanks before going inside. He saw the woman of his dreams, her waist wasn't as thin as it had once been, her hair wasn't cut in the same chic styles, yet she was the most wonderful thing he'd seen in months and mere moments both.
She had her back to him, her long hair, more reminiscent of her mother, Catherine's, hair style was pulled back into a pony tail. She wore a pair of faded denim shorts, a black tank top with an apron covering her front.
He snuck over to her and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her against his body and inhaling the smell of her.
Surprised, she yelped and turned slightly to smack Jarod in the arm playfully, "Don't scare me like that or I'll shoot you, wonder-boy," she teased.
A joyful rumble started in Jarod's throat, "Kill me and bliss me, but first come and kiss me," he quoted, turning her around and kissing the daylights out of her.
When Jarod pulled away, Parker was breathless and grinning madly.
"What was that for?" she wondered.
Pretending a nonchalance he didn't feel, Jarod shrugged, "Nothing, Parker. Where're the kids?"
A blush spread across her face, something Parker would have never done years ago, but it looked good on her now.
"Outside in the back, why do you ask?"
What she had assumed his reason in asking became clear to Jarod, and he laughed at her, "Get your mind out of the gutter, Parker," he scolded playfully, "I merely want to see my kids is all."
Laughing at herself, Parker blew him a playful kiss, "Maybe I will shoot you after all," she threatened.
Satisfied, Jarod walked out of the kitchen and through the house to the sliding glass door that lead to the backyard. There, little Catherine, 9 and Kyle, 12, played. Both had dark hair and eyes and were the most precious sight he'd ever seen.
A tear leaked from his eye as he watched, he turned away to wipe his face and get a hold of his emotions when he noticed the calendar and the date.
May 28, 2022
Sitting next to the calendar was a picture of Sydney. Ravaged by time, he was still smiling as he stood there, holding Kyle in one arm and baby Catherine in the other. He looked so proud, holding Jarod and Parker's children.
"We're free," he whispered, "Finally free."
ENTH E ND
One thing I don't know why
It doesn't even matter how hard you try
Keep that in mind I designed this rhyme
When I was obsessed with time
All I know
Time was just slipping away
And I watched it count down to the end of the day
Watched it watch me and the words that I say
The echo of the clock rhythm in my veins
I know that I didn't look out below
When I watched the time go right out the window
Trying to grab hold
Trying not watch how I wasted it all on the hands of the clock
But in the end no matter what I pretend
The journey is more important than the end or the start
What it meant to me will eventually be a memory of a time when
I tried so hard
And got so far
But in the end
It doesn't even matter
I had to fall
To lose it all
But in the end
It doesn't even matter
One thing I don't know how
It doesn't even matter when you look at it now
'Cause when I designed this rhyme I was scared of it all
Scared to fall I hadn't even tried to crawl
But I was forced to run with you mocking me
Stopping me backstabbing me constantly
Remembering all the times you fought with me
Watch the clock now chock full of hypocrisy
But now your mouth wishes it could inhale
Every single little thing you said to make things fail
Every single word you sputtered just to get your piece
But it really doesn't matter to me
Cause from the start to the end
No matter what I pretend
The journey is more important than the end or the start
And what it meant to me will eventually be a memory of a time when
I tried so hard
And got so far
But in the end
It doesn't even matter
I had to fall
To lose it all
But in the end
It doesn't even matter
In the end…