My sincerest apologies for not posting sooner, a terrible head cold and midterms fell within the same week. Let's hope all the congestion didn't rattle my brain!

Part 11 Apocalypse

She hadn't expected this brutal and violent dance.

She struggled against the iron grip around her neck. The melee had sent them both tumbling to the floor. She was gasping for breath, trying to scream out for forgiveness, trying to scream out her name. She wanted it to stop.

Would she go this far?

She desperately wondered, as her legs were being pulled out from underneath her. She could feel the weight of someone else's body on hers. Someone's legs wrapped taut around her torso. She could feel warm breath across her face, and smell the unmistakable sweet smell of gardenias.

If she could, she would of laughed.

"I guess reeducation didn't quite go over as well as your brother thought." Her voice was hoarse. It had lost all trace of British accent.

"You don't know the half of it."

Brigette's eyes flew open and she smiled. Miss Parker had never planned on killing her, at least not yet. She was flat on her back, but she had all the answers. It didn't matter that Marianne had managed to turn the tables and straddled her now. She would persevere.

"If I were you, I wouldn't be smiling." Marianne observed as she yanked Brigette forward by the collar of her shirt, roughly shaking her.

"You're dead Brigette. You're supposed be in a box somewhere, not here, trying to kill me." Marianne declared flatly, keeping her grip on Brigette's collar.

Brigette didn't bother to respond, her eyes only glittered with contempt.

"What did they promise you, in order for you to carry my son?" Marianne growled.

"What's with the blonde hair?" Brigette snapped maliciously, a smile forming on her lips.

Marianne raised an eyebrow as she brushed a strand of hair back from her face. She almost couldn't hide her amusement as she slapped Brigette across the face with back of her hand. Marianne didn't bother to keep her grip. She had released Brigette from her grasp, the impact sending Brigette tumbling backwards towards the ground.

"You Bitch." Marianne observed, as she stood up, attempting to smooth her ruffled hair. "That's not what I asked for."

Brigette glared as she picked herself off the concrete floor, tasting blood in her mouth. Marianne's diamond ring had caught on her mouth, tearing the fragile flesh of her lips.

"I hated you." She rasped, as she wiped a bead of blood from the corner of her mouth. "I wanted nothing more then to knock you off. But I couldn't catch Jarod." She smiled, her expression turning nasty. "I wanted to put daddy's little girl in her place."

"Don't go there." Marianne warned. "Unless you really want to die."

"We were always on the same side, you and me. It took me awhile to realize that." Brigette admitted, grimacing as she rubbed the back of her head, inconspicuously backing away as she spoke.

Marianne shook her head in disbelief. "Just what in the hell is it that you want?" She demanded gruffly.

"I wanted everything." Brigette replied wryly. "I was promised everything. Your place in exchange for carrying your child."

"What?" Marianne gasped.

Brigette, ignoring Marianne's reaction, only went on.

"I'm sure Lyle kindly explained it to you. The prophecy and what you mean to it."

"He was enthusiastic, to say the least." Marianne deadpanned.

"I did what they wanted. And then they threw me away." Brigette hissed. She paused, her expression suddenly faltering, she almost seemed sad. "They'll do it to you too."

"You think I don't know that?" Marianne scoffed. " Why do you think I've been pretending to act like a vegetable?"

Brigette began to laugh. It sounded like a bell but it was bitter one, full of pretension.

"Why do you think they let you fail, as much as you did, why do you think they kept you alive?" Brigette began derisively. "Your life, Miss Parker, everything you know, everyone you know.is a sham."

It was another revelation that Marianne was sure that she wasn't prepared for. She seldom liked anything that headed down this narrow side-winding road into her past. But Brigette had her full attention. She wouldn't dare interrupt.

"Jarod." Brigette sighed. "Your relationship with Jarod has always been important to the centre. So much that they chose to take it a step further."

Marianne was on the edge of her seat, hanging on her every word. She didn't appreciate the dramatic pause, didn't like the self-satisfied look on Brigette's face. "Go on." She urged, in a voice that she had never heard herself use before.

"Do you think it coincidence that the man you're destined to bear children with, is the very same man who's so desperately in love with you?" Brigette replied scathingly.

Marianne didn't realize that she had closed her eyes. For a moment, she was transported back to night on the porch swing. The feel of his lips, the look in his eyes, it had all been manufactured.

"The centre invented the detestable practice of brainwashing. Emotional reconfiguration is hardly an accomplishment." Brigette added. "Those puppy dog eyes he's given you over the years is nothing more then a program, designed to propagate the prophecy."

Brigette's delivery was clinical, perfect. It's lack of compassion was what sent Marianne flying into a rage. It only took her mere seconds to make it across the room, wrap her hands around Brigette's neck and slam her up against a wall.

" You've always been nothing to me but a bloodsucker to do away with." Marianne declared slowly and softly, the calm look on her face betraying nothing of the rage that swelled inside her. Her eyes widened suddenly, the levy breaking.

"You've done nothing to change that." Marianne accused, her voice strangled by the outpouring of emotion.

"Everything I've ever known about my life was a lie." Marianne hissed. "Tell me something that I don't already know. Tell me something that is of use to me."

Brigette had learned all too quickly to anticipate such a display of cruelty. The hands around her neck hurt, nonetheless. She drew a quick and sharp intake of breath. She tried not to smile. She thought of it as an accomplishment, to be able to smile after all the horrors she had gone through and witnessed. She knew that Marianne wouldn't see it that way.

"Lyle wanted you to love him. The bloody bastard always has. That meant making you believe that whatever children you would bear from the treatment would be his and not Jarod's." Brigette replied, her expression softening along with the tone of her voice.

"Treatment?" Marianne repeated, her voice cracking. She didn't know which horrible truth to dwell on first. Her brother's sickening attempt of manipulation or the thought of the apocalypse, possibly growing inside her.

"Am I pregnant?" Marianne began slowly, her fury fading quickly into despair.

"I don't know." Brigette quietly replied. "I don't want you here to find out."

Marianne sank her head between her knees. It was moments like these when she wished that she hadn't given up drinking.

"How the hell am I supposed to get out of here?" She wondered aloud in a defeated tone.

The expression on Brigette face had softened entirely. "I can help you, Miss Parker, like I should have, long ago."

"Considering the fact that you were intent on killing me just minutes ago, I'd have to say that I'm not entirely convinced." Miss Parker replied warily.

"Years ago, I took away the one opportunity you had for happiness." Brigette whispered torturously. " I won't take away this opportunity for you to be with the love of your life."

"Love of my life?" Marianne spat, her eyebrows raised as high as they could go. "Did you forget what you said? The fact that Jarod was programmed to love me?"

"Yes I did." Brigette replied pointedly. "But they didn't do it to you."

***************** She had tried her best. But her brother was stubborn, just like their mother had warned her. Emily sighed. Jarod and her scarce said a word since their confrontation. He seemed willing to listen at first but then something in him quickly changed. He was part of different world, something that she obviously a stranger to. This Parker woman was very much a part of this world, part of an organization that had committed unspeakable acts against him. Just why he was so unwilling to relinquish himself from that world, was a mystery to her. Her reasoning considered it foolish, the way he was preparing himself to throw himself in harm's way for someone so undeserving. It didn't matter that he had done it a thousand times before. He was a pretender, a genius. She didn't want to intrude.

But it was times like these that made her feel like she knew best.

The craziness in her life had seldom allowed her to make friends but she had an instant bond with Zoey. Jarod had sent her to live with her and her father after the kidnapping. Zoey was all sweetness and fun. She was very much in love with Jarod and everybody could see it, from the way she looked at him to the way she would rub his smelly feet. Emily thought that Jarod loved Zoey too.

She still didn't understand why Zoey had left.

The ringing of her cell sent it teetering over the nightstand. She caught it in a single swift motion before it fell to the ground. She flipped the cell phone open, and let out a deep sigh. She raised the phone to her ear hesitantly, dreading the conversation.

"Zoey," Emily began ruefully, as she began to pace about the room. "I've failed."

************* It had been a start of another sleepless night. And Jarod couldn't blame it on the rain. He had tossed and turned for several hours before finally giving up and settling himself in a chair by the window. Running his fingers through his hair, he inwardly groaned as he recalled the events of the evening past. He knew that he was doing the right thing but the way she looked at him from across the dinner table made him start to wonder. Emily had scarce said a word. If she meant to punish him then she was going the right way about it.

Her silence was killing him.

But Jarod found comfort in what seemed the most unlikely place. A child with understanding eyes.

Jarod loved the way the child would settle into his lap at the end of the day and fall fast asleep. Save for a pretend that was many years ago, it was the closest he ever was to being a father. He would watch the rise and fall of the little chest, and it didn't matter that no progress had been made. He was beginning to wonder if the child had ever been given a name, much less remember one.

"I will always take care of you," He had whispered to the sleeping child as he placed him in his crib that night. "I will never let you go." He looked at the child once more. "I will bring back your sister," he had said solemnly. "I promise."

There came a cry from the end of the hallway. Jarod was broken away from his thoughts. He opened his door and poked his head out into the hallway. The cry was coming from the boy's room. Jarod bolted out of his room and rushed into the boy's room. The boy was in his crib, asleep yet having a nightmare. There was sweat on his tiny little brow, his hands were clenched into fists and his body was contorting amongst the sheets.

"Mama." He cried.

Jarod's ears perked up. Did he just hear.?

"Mama." The boy cried out again.

The boy was crying out for his mother. It was unmistakable.

Jarod's gaze met his mothers as she rushed into the room. Before he could address her, there came a loud knocking sound. Someone was at the door.

"Take him, I'll go get the door." Jarod said as he left the room.

He walked down the stairs. The loud knocking continued, bordering on frantic. By the time Jarod had reached the door, he was already anxious, his hands gripping the baseball bat he had picked up along the way. He readied himself to swing if necessary, then with one hand, pulled the door wide open. He gasped as he let the baseball bat fall out of his hand, his mind failing him.

He rubbed his eyes once and then twice. He closed his eyes momentarily, assuring himself that he was just weary, but SHE was still there.

Surely it had to be wishful thinking.

Had he gone crazy?

Marianne seemed almost nonchalant as she stood before him. She was dressed in standard issue centre garb, a long cotton tunic with matching cotton pants. She wore garish looking tennis shoes, brightly colored a lime green, shoestrings hastily tied. There were bruises on her face, dotting her cheeks, some fresher then others, purple fading into yellow. Her blonde hair remained, only brutally cut short. Her eyes were clear and yet accusing.

Why didn't you save me? They screamed.

He had no explanation. No excuses to waste her time with. He wanted nothing more then to just take her into his arms and make everything go away.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, his question obviously a stupid one, but he had no other means to convey just how unprepared he was.

"I've come back for the child." She replied blithely, her expression even.

Her eyes became searching, questioning. It was a lack of his response that was eliciting hers. She became suspicious, but then finally, a smile formed on her lips. It was a triumphant smile.

" Jarod.I have come back for our son." ******************

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