Disclaimer:  I do not own The Pretender and I am not getting any money from this.  The characters are not my own, I'm only borrowing them to put them into situations of my own imagining.

Finding Family

Part One

By Dr. Scott

Rating: G

Category: S

Timeline: Sometime in the middle of the series

Spoilers: None

Keywords: MPJF, JOF

Summary:  Miss Parker accidentally shoots Jarod which forces her to confront her feelings towards him.  Meanwhile, a seriously injured Jarod has to learn to trust someone to help him and finds out a little about his family history.

Interstate 59, East of Houston, Texas, Wednesday Morning, 7:45 AM

Low rumble and rocking motion had lulled him into a deep and much needed sleep throughout the cross-country bus ride, and so the sounds of rustling as other passengers gathered their things and tucked newspapers, books and knitting projects away barely registered to his consciousness.  Instead, it brought him up to a state of REM sleep, and as recent events replayed in the twisted, magnification of his dream he moaned softly.

She stalked him like a cat.  Her taunt muscles barely concealed by sleek black clothes and her dark hair blown up and around her face like a lion's mane—both magnificent and terrifying at the same time.  He turned to run, but somehow he could still see her face in that strange way that dreams have of allowing you to see all the angles at once.  Suddenly the Other was at the other end of the street, and now he wanted to run back to her like a naughty child to his mother.  His mother.  His mother.  Her flame colored hair floated around her and she shouted his name.  He hit the ground in a roll, and now cat-like himself he came up and ran across the road ignoring the searing pain in his shoulder.  He could still see Her face though.  She was in shock as a man in black knocked her to the side roughly…as she fell…as the gun went off in slow motion.

"Hey, Buddy, you ah'right?" a voice said and as someone shook his left arm it caused his right shoulder to bump up against the window frame.  The sharp stabbing pain woke him instantly, but he was momentarily disoriented by being in the bus.  He sighed and nodded slowly at his seat mate.

I made it.  I got away again, he thought to himself.  But I need to stop and do something about this shoulder.  He was afraid this was bigger than he could handle himself and he was in no position to trust anyone.  He sat up and blinked out the window at the dense set of skyscrapers twinkling in the morning sunlight as the bus pulled into downtown Houston.  He knew it was a big town, maybe he could get lost in it for a while.

The Centre, Blue Cove, Delaware, 9:35 AM

Sydney stood to the side and watched the twins bicker once again.  While they both possessed sharp, good looks and high intelligence, they could not have been more different in personalities.  Oh, some would say she was cold, but Sydney knew her demeanor was a hard shell she had built to protect her true self.  But he, on the other hand, was icy down to his murderous heart.

"Look, Sis, you warned him.  You called out his name.  It's your fault he got away.  Again.  And you know it!" Lyle exclaimed angrily.

"I had everything perfectly in control until you and all those sweepers showed up.  It was the confusion they created pointing guns everywhere that allowed Jarod to slip away in those sewer lines," Miss Parker retorted.

"Enough!" The deep voice of their father silenced them, and they turned to face him.  She more contrite than he.  "The fact remains," he enunciated clearly, "that Jarod remains on the outside and I want him returned back to the Centre where he belongs.  Lyle, this is the job given to your sister.  I have given you other projects that should be your priority," he said firmly giving his son a knowing look.

Miss Parker turned slightly to give Lyle a smirk.

"And Angel," he paused to get her full attention, "I want to see results, or you can be given other projects too," he growled at her.

"Yes, Daddy," she replied meekly.

"And where were you when all this happened," Mr. Parker demanded turning his attention to Sydney.

"I…I was here at the Centre," Sydney replied slowly.

"Are you not part of the team assigned to catch Jarod?  Why weren't you doing your job?" Mr. Parker demanded.

"It was my idea," Miss Parker rushed to answer.  "You see Jarod always seems to know we're all coming and I thought maybe it was the fact that we traveled as a team that was tipping him off.  Stalking him one-on-one to catch him off guard seemed..."

Mr. Parker interrupted her.  "Never go after him alone.  You take a sweeper or your team with you.  He is dangerous and I want him back here where we can control him.  Now, go to work," and he dismissed them all with a wave of his hand.

Houston Texas, 9:15 AM

Jarod found himself on another bus.  He'd thought about taking a cab, but he didn't know where he wanted to go.  He couldn't very well ask to be taken to the seedy side of town to a free clinic that will treat gun shot wounds with no questions asked if offered enough money to keep the free clinic doors open.

He'd taken his time getting off the Greyhound Bus so that he could carry his duffel bag and not be jostled by the crowd.  He had sufficiently tuned out his brain so that the pain in his shoulder was a dull throb, had made his way out to the street and had caught the first local city bus that had come along.

It was one of those clear blue, not a cloud in the sky kind of days that come right after a cold front blows through.  The sun shone bright and sparkling on a city that had been washed clean with rain the day before.  Fortunately for him, it was cold enough and breezy enough that wearing a thick, leather jacket to cover his wound did not look out of place in this ordinarily warm, Southern city.  His plan, if you could call it that, was to ride the bus until he felt like he was in a likely part of town and then follow his instincts.

The bus worked its way fitfully through downtown seeming to stop at every single street corner.  The agonizing slowness forced him to study his fellow passengers and he played mini-pretends to imagine what they were thinking and feeling that day.  The years of training throughout his childhood and as a young adult were so ingrained that he didn't even realize he had slipped into pretend mode in order to distract his mind from the pain in his right shoulder.

Two short, round, middle aged Hispanic woman got on together flashing well worn monthly bus passes.  They looked tired but happy as they chatted in Spanish and he knew they were returning home after their early morning jobs cleaning offices.

A man in a neat but a little out of date suit with lapels just a little too wide flashed his bus pass and sat comfortably on the sunlit side a few seats in front of Jarod.  Then he pulled out a tidy stack of papers that he read and thumbed back and forth.  Jarod knew he was returning from some early morning meeting and rode the bus on the principle of being Earth friendly.

A well dressed business woman got on the bus and sat down right up front, clearly uncomfortable with the idea as she fumbled for the exact change.  Looking at her extremely high-heeled shoes, he wasn't surprised when she got off after only five blocks.  She didn't want to walk even that far.  But that made him think of Parker.  How did she run after him in those shoes of hers?

Two slacker looking youths got off the bus slouching past in their baggy jeans and oversized t-shirts, and Jarod watched as they crossed the street and over to a big building at the next block where he could just make out the end of a sign "—ic Library".  They were clearly smarter than they wanted their peers to think.

Then a young woman with a child in an umbrella stroller got on.  She deftly lifted the stroller up the steps, swiveled it sharply and let it drop down hard on the aisle as she reached into a large bag and pulled out a wallet and flashed her bus id.  She was a little overweight, and her hair was stringy like she hadn't bathed in a day or two.  She could have been pretty except for the sour expression on her face as she pushed the stroller with one hand and flopped in the seat right across from Jarod.  She pulled the stroller in behind her leaving the child still strapped in and facing out towards Jarod.  She tossed her big bag on the seat next to her, pulled out a stack of magazines, selected one with movie star pictures on the cover and began reading totally ignoring the child.

Jarod looked down at the little boy in the stroller.  He looked about 3 years old and his big brown eyes looked curiously up at Jarod's sympathetic eyes.  He was wearing a long sleeve shirt with obvious stains of at least this morning's breakfast on it and long pants and socks, but no shoes or jacket.  Jarod thought this was strange since it was rather cool in the 60's, but he thought how she ignored the child even stranger.

"Excuse me, ma'am," the bus driver called out.  "You can't leave the stroller like that.  It blocks the aisle and it might roll if I have to stop suddenly."

"All right," she replied in an exasperated voice.  Slapping her magazine down, she leaned over to unbuckle the boy and set him unceremoniously onto the edge of the seat.  Then she pushed the stroller back out and flipping a latch on the back, folded it in two and slid it under the seat.  Meanwhile the little boy was looking in his mother's big bag and as he pushed it around to look inside, the heavy bag fell on her shoulder where she was leaning over to shove the stroller.  "You leave that alone!" she scolded and slapped the boy's hand much harder than the bag had bumped onto her.

He immediately began to cry and she responded by sitting back in her seat and picking her magazine again.  Jarod called out softly to the child, "Hey, little guy, its okay," he soothed, "look down here on the floor."

The sunlight cast sharp shadows on the aisle and Jarod used his left hand to make a dog shadow puppet that he caused to leap and nip around on the bumps of corrugated steel as he playfully barked.  The little boy stooped crying and watched happily, looking up at Jarod with a grin and trails of tears still on his cheeks.

"You got kids?" the young woman asked.

"No," Jarod answered.  "What's his name?"

"This here's Cody, junior.  And he's his father's boy too.  Gonna have that red-neck temper."

"Excuse me?" replied Jarod curiously.

"Oh, you know," she replied trying to smile and bat her eyes at him.  "Everyone treats you like a princess when you get married, and a queen when you're expecting and you get lots of presents and visits when they're cute babies, but before you know it, they leave you high and dry with a Terrible Two year old that turns into a three year old with temper tantrums."

While they were talking the little boy had turned his attention to the stack of magazines and was pushing the ones on top off to the floor one by one.  "Ya' see what I mean?" she exclaimed and again slapped his little hand.  Then leaving him crying once again, she leaned over to retrieve the magazines.

Suddenly the bus hit a pot hole and everyone bounced up and down.  Little Cody being right on the edge bounced up and slid over towards the steel aisle floor.  Without thinking, Jarod stretched out both arms and caught the boy so that rather than landing on his head, the boy landed on his knees bumping his shins rather hard on the floor and evoking a fresh set of tears.

The sudden, swift movement and the 30 pound weight was beyond the limits that Jarod's shoulder could endure, he felt the wound snap open and warm, wetness begin to spread across his shirt.  He let the boy go suddenly and groaned in pain as he clutched his own arm to his body.

The mother snatched the child up, kissing and petting his hair, finally frightened for his safety.  She loved the child;  she just didn't know any better how to care for him.  As the boy's cries turned into hiccups she looked over at Jarod to thank him and saw that he had his jaw clenched and eyes shut tight in pain.  "Are you okay?  Thank you for catching Cody.  Can I help you?"

"Yes," he said with clenched teeth and giving her one of his intense, penetrating stares.  He took a deep breath and straightened, "Cody acts up and gets angry because he is bored.  I can just tell by looking in his eyes.  He is a special boy and obviously very smart, but unless you help him learn, he will entertain himself by torturing you.  The choice is yours.  Pay attention to him before he acts up and keep him busy learning things, or pay attention to him afterwards and only reinforce his bad behavior.  Do you want a lawyer or a criminal for a son?"

"I…I want him to have a good life of course," she stammered.

"Then you can help me by helping yourself to become a new woman.  Be his mother and take care of him the way he deserves to be taken care of," Jarod demanded.

The young woman nodded wordlessly and the boy clutched in her arms looked up happily and expectantly.  Jarod pulled himself to standing and the pull cord to signal the bus driver to stop.  He could feel the blood seeping down his shirt and he had to find a bathroom quickly and put on a new bandage.  Steeling himself, he picked up his bag and braced himself as the bus lurched to a stop at an intersection.  Nodding to the woman one last time, he couldn't help but smile as little Cody waved one of his plump hands and childishly lisped, "Bye-Bye."