Chapter Ten

Disclaimer: Mary Mary, quite contrary

How does you garden grow?

With silver bells and cockle shells

And pretty maids all in a row

Author's Note: Just recently my muse had a heart attack and is currently recovering in hospital. I've been posting the chapters I have in reserve, but this is the last one. The next chapter is half written, but is progressing slower than it should be. So, all I can say is- patience my pretties, patience. Oh, and review with any character meetings or scenes you would like to see included- they really help.

CrackerjacknPez: Here you go, another chapter. And btw, there is no such thing as a review that's too long, so don't worry about word count. No, seriously, write away.

Onisius: Here you are- you won't have to wait for more. And as an added bonus, you get to find out what's happened to Broots.

Me: yay, kudos for me. That's me with a lower case m. You sound a lot like someone I know Me. Which country do you hail from?

Brandy: who you calling a brat?!... OK, I admit it, I am, probably, a brat... but only a little bit. And, oh yes, Lyle is about get his just deserts. Quite a lot of just deserts. It's looking like the rest of the story will involve mostly Lyle torture with a healthy amount of JMP.

mfkngst: Would Jarod be saying 'oh no' if Broots was OK? Well, you'll find out. About Canadians and Australians being similar; I have developed a theory. The closer you are (econmically, socially or politically), you are to a large and annoying neighbour, the more you hate them. And as they say- mine enemy's enemy shalt be considered mine friend. We (the Aussies) developed our finally honed desire to take the piss on England, and have continued that proud tradition on America. It is the smaller country's job to keep the neighbour at least partiallty sane, or, failing that, roll their eyes when they troop off to war, proudly sprouting idiotic propaganda.

gemini006007: yay! I got the badge of 'amazing story' from Mercy. Thanks for the review. Keep reading.

ICD: I learnt my cliff hangers from the best. As you made me suffer, so I make you suffer. #Gives an evil maniac laugh# Oh yes, I will make you review. I will torture you with cliff hangers until you tear your hair out!!! #realises she just put three exclamation marks on the end of a sentence and wanders off to call the men in white coats# Enjoy the chapter.

Last Chapter;

'Oh, no' said Jarod, reading the code that flashed across the screen.

'What?' asked Parker sharply from where she hovered just behind Jarod's shoulder, unknowingly distracting him far worse than any of his injuries.

'I found him' replied Jarod.

And now;

'Lyle's not as stupid as he played. He had insurance. He was just toying with us, letting us escape.' Parker's heart sank at his words; she knew what they meant. Sydney looked equally distraught from where he sat on the desk chair next to the pretender.

'So much for having time' said Parker resignedly. The bumbling bald technician. A man that went up and above the call of duty for her. A punching bag when the world simply became too annoying. Broots...

'Where's Debbie?' asked Sydney suddenly. Jarod's eye's widened and he turned rapidly back to the computer. He didn't hide what he was doing from the two that were watching and they both saw him hack effortlessly through hundreds and thousands of dollars worth of firewalls that was the Centre's protection. 'That takes Broots at least half an hour' commented Parker, trying to fend off her worry about the young girl that had become dear to her.

'Mr Broots is at a disadvantage in that he wasn't the one that built the system.' Replied Jarod distractedly as he peered at the screen, then began typing again. He soon pulled up surveillance footage of the teenager, curled in the corner of a Centre cell. 'Oh god' said Jarod blanching. 'That was where Lyle tortured me.'

Parker suddenly resolved the dark patches on the walls and floor into blood. 'If he's hurt her, I swear...' Parker tailed off, to angry and disgusted to speak. Sydney hurriedly reached over and turned the monitor off, fading the picture into blackness.

'A trade it is then' said the pretender in a quiet voice. Parker's eyes snapped onto Jarod; even the normally unflappable Sydney look sick and shocked. 'Lyle will kill you if he gets his hands on you again' Parker told him, her voice denying any possibility of Jarod ever going back to the Centre.

'There are other ways Jarod,' started Sydney, recovering from his shock, 'we can rescue Broots and his Debbie from the Centre without sacrificing anyone.'

'Can you guarantee, that? Parker's wrong, Lyle won't kill me, I'm too important. Can you say the same about Debbie and Broots?'

'We can't Wonder boy, but you can. Sim it.'

Jarod shook his head in response then laboriously stood, making his way into the bedroom. Parker looked questioningly at Sydney. After they both heard him drop onto the bed, Sydney spoke. 'Such a complicated sim would take several days preparation. It involves not just Lyle, Broots and Debbie, but anyone that might be in the Centre on the day. It's a good idea Parker, but as it is, at the moment he can barely stand, let alone sim.' Syd glanced towards the bedroom, his brow creasing with worry. Looking back to Parker, they shared a look of understanding. They would both go through hell and back to stop the pretender going back to the Centre. The problem was, they needed a plan. The old psychiatrist raised his brows questioningly, but Parker shrugged. Shaking his head, as though to say 'don't worry about it,' Sydney stood and followed Jarod into the bedroom.

Parker sat there a moment longer thinking hard. She could hear the faint sounds of Sydney helping Jarod to get ready to go to bed. The old man must have convinced Jarod not to take any action until they had all had some sleep. Her mind circled around the Centre, around Jarod, around Lyle. Deep inside was an anger so white hot that anyone exposed to it could not hope to survive for long. She was raging mad that Lyle had dared to do this. Why couldn't they just be left alone? The sparkle that the Centre had rarely ever managed to erase from Jarod's eyes was gone. And Parker hated them for it. She would not let the pretender turn himself in; she would not give Lyle the satisfaction. They would find another way.

She sat there musing until the light behind the curtains faded, and then some time after that. The thing that finally broke her reverie of circling thoughts was Sydney's quiet yet wavering voice. 'Parker' he called, with such uncertainty and worry in his voice that Parker rose immediately. She had rarely heard the old man sound anything other than cool, calm and collected.

'What is it Syd?' she asked once she had entered the bedroom. Her voice was quiet, so as not to wake the pretender that slept sprawled on his front, taking up most of the double bed. Sydney sat in a chair next to the bed, in the position of vigil that Parker had occupied the night before. His face was marred by an anxious expression. Upon seeing her enter, he simply pointed to what had become exposed on Jarod's back as he had turned over in his sleep.

Parker looked for a moment, not comprehending. Then her stomach heaved in disgust. That Lyle could do such a thing... At the same time she knew the sick and twisted mind of her twin would have seen no problem in doing what he had. Still, all words had been ripped from her mind. Such an act of cruelty was the stuff of nightmares. Indeed, a similar dream had once haunted her sleep.

For freshly branded across Jarod's back were the words 'Property of the Centre'

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The next morning both Miss Parker and Sydney both had trouble meeting Jarod's eyes. Despite his depressed mood he soon picked up on their evasion.

'What is it Sydney?' he asked finally as the three of them sat not eating tray of room service they had ordered from the motel. Sydney paused before answering and Jarod's expression darkened.

'Do you remember anything from the time you spent in the Centre Jarod?'

Jarod frowned, wondering why Sydney had asked this, but answering anyway. 'Only what happened while I was amnesiac.' And when Parker looked into my eyes and put all her faith in me to save her he added silently. 'Why?' he asked suspiciously.

'Lyle...' started Sydney, then stopped and lowered his head, unable to continue. Jarod's expression became worried, desperate to know what the psychiatrist couldn't tell him. Parker took that moment to intervene.

'Jarod, come into the bathroom' she told him gently. He glanced once at Sydney to check that he was OK, then followed Parker, his thoughts in turmoil.

The bathroom was quite small, but there was plenty of room for both of them to stand. One wall consisted of a sink sunk in a bench, with a mirror covering the rest of that wall. Parker motioned for him to come and stand in front of her, with both of their backs to the mirror, which he did with reluctant uncertainty. She gently touched two fingers to the centre of his back and he flinched. 'It hurts then.' She confirmed, reasoning that everything else probably hurt him just as much so he would not have paid special attention to his back. Jarod said nothing, tightly controlling his anxiety, waiting for Parker to tell him in her own time.

'Jarod, this won't be easy to see. Try not to freak out OK'

'OK' he nodded, his breathing quickening, anxiety turning to fear. 'Take your shirt off' she told him. He paused for a moment, then complied, Parker having to help him after a moment when he couldn't lift his right arm to pull it all the way off. He stood un-self consciously in front of her, finding no inhibitions in baring his torso in front of her after all they had been through together. After a moment she picked up the hand mirror from the bench. Silently she handed him the mirror, although she did not remove her hands when he reached up to take it, instead standing on tip toe from behind his shoulder to see from his perspective and angling it for him, allowing him to see his own back.

The shiny and puffy flesh stood in ridges along his back. Jarod's disbelieving eyes took a couple of moments to actually perceive what he was seeing as words. When he did Parker felt the palpable change in the air. She saw the muscles in his back all outline themselves as he tensed before he lowered the mirror. He allowed it to fall from his grasp and she half-turned to place it back on the bench, then walked to stand in front of the pretender, whose expression had gone blank.

'Jarod?' she asked gently, looking deep into his eyes in an attempt to gauge why he was reacting like this, how deep the shock ran. After a moment his eyes focused on hers. His jaw clenched and he inhaled deeply through his nose. Saying nothing he strode out of the bathroom, his walk now far from the halting limp that he had exhibited before. Parker blinked in shock then hurried after him.

Sydney stood as they entered the room, looking in surprise at Jarod, who had paused and was standing in the middle of the room, his shirt off and his eyes flashing in anger. He abruptly focused on Sydney. 'I will make him pay'

'Jarod, revenge in anger will be regretted later. Why don't you just sit down and we can...' Parker cut him off. 'Now's not the time to give counselling Freud.'

Jarod nodded tersely in agreement with Parker's sentiment and Sydney acquiesced. Parker was vibrating on much the same wavelength as the pretender- her deep seated anger at her brother now finding outlet. In hitching a ride with Jarod on his plan for revenge her desire to see her twin burn in a fate worse than death would be sated. Her fury would be added to his own with much the same effect of taping a scram jet onto the back of a speeding race car. The Centre would not stand one chance. Lyle would rue the day when he ever thought of imprisoning Broots and his daughter. Brutal thoughts ran circles through the heads of both the two red files as they hunkered down together along with Sydney to begin their scheming.

The psychiatrist was almost shocked at the streak of violence that became apparent in the two children that he had known for half a lifetime. He had suspected that their unpleasant upbringings would cause more instabilities in their characters than he had previously observed, but their imagination for pain was shocking indeed.

Plan after plan for bounced back and forward between them, Sydney's only contribution usually being on some small continuity or to rein them in when they became too irrational or angry. Still, he did not rein them in too hard, as, contrary to his calm façade, the psychiatrist himself had a burning current running through him as well. Lyle more than deserved retribution. Sydney would finally be getting his own back for the years of abuse to him and those he tried to protect.

With the fervour that Parker and Jarod openly displayed, and the subtle steering of Sydney, it did not take long before the three of them had settled on a plan. Now they ran over the fine details it, polishing and occasionally embellishing the fine details.

As Lyle sat behind his fine desk, gloatingly awaiting the moment when Jarod realised who he held hostage and made contact to hand himself in, he had no idea of what awaited him.