Disclaimer: Rights to The Pretender world and all its characters belong to creators Craig Van Sickle and Steven Mitchell. NBC owns a share, as do Twentieth Century Fox and TNT. (Even though they aren't going to air anymore re-runs – the bastards.) The point is I'm borrowing someone else's creation. No profit is being made and no copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Note: Sorry Imag1ne, that wasn't where I was going, but damn if that isn't a really fine idea. Wish I had thought of it. I even spent some time trying to weave it into the storyline. But alas, my muse just wasn't cooperating.Admitting Hope pt 3
By Phenyx
10/01/2005
"Hope begins in the dark, the stubborn hope that if you just show up and try to do the right thing, the dawn will come." – Anne Lamott.
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Miss Parker wasn't quite sure what was happening. There had been a deep thump of sound and a wave of hot air had washed over her. The next thing she knew, she was lying on her back in the grass. A long lean body covered her own.
She couldn't see. Leather-clad arms were curled protectively around her head, blocking her view. She could hear objects falling around her.
Through the shock, it took a moment for Miss Parker to realize that the muscled figure pressed against her was Jarod. As this fact registered, it brought with it a disconnected thought. 'The last time I was this close to him, we were tied to a pole.'
'No,' her mind whispered back. 'The last time, he tried to kiss you.'
"Are you hurt?" Jarod's voice murmured in her ear.
"I don't think so," Miss Parker coughed.
Jarod shifted his body, rolling to one side so that he could rake his stern gaze over her. Seemingly satisfied that she'd been telling the truth, Jarod turned toward Ethan. The younger man was sitting in the grass, frowning in the direction of the burning house.
"Ethan?" Jarod called to him.
Ethan shook his head slowly. In the light of the fire, the young man's features were tinted orange, his hair auburn in color. He watched as the building burned before him.
Miss Parker craned her neck to see her brother. Still pinned against Jarod, her movement was restricted but she could see Ethan over Jarod's shoulder. "Ethan? Are you okay?" she asked.
For several seconds the young man was motionless, frozen to the spot. Then suddenly he was scrambling to his feet. "Go," he yelled. "Run!"
Jarod didn't bother to question his brother. He was up in a flash, dragging Miss Parker along with him. There was a whizzing sound through the air and the ground where Miss Parker had been lying a moment ago thunked as a bullet struck it. They ran toward the trees that stood along the back of Miss Parker's property. As the trio dashed into the wooded expanse, another bullet zinged by Miss Parker's head.
She ran. Jarod held Miss Parker's wrist in one hand as he pounded after Ethan. Jarod was taller, faster than she, and she struggled to keep pace with him.
They sprinted through the woods almost soundlessly. They did not speak yet they each seemed to instinctively know what was needed. Ethan rushed ahead, finding a trail where none existed. As he ran, Jarod brushed aside brambles as best he could, again protecting Miss Parker with his body.
They pressed on through the night. In the shelter of the trees there was little light but Ethan and Jarod seemed to have no trouble finding their way through the darkness. Miss Parker followed them blindly.
She didn't know how long they had been running or how far they had come. But when they burst upon a moonlit glade, Miss Parker was panting for breath. "Wait!" she gasped.
"Ethan!" Jarod called to his brother. "We can rest here for a moment."
With a groan of relief, Miss Parker sat down on a fallen log. She bent over, bracing herself against her knees as she struggled for air.
"It isn't safe," Ethan warned.
Jarod flashed the younger man an angry look.
"I just," Miss Parker breathed. "Just need a minute. I'll be okay."
Crouching beside her, Jarod looked at Miss Parker's torn shirt and scratched face. "You're not okay," he growled. He slipped his jacket off his shoulders and transferred the garment to Miss Parker's. His gaze drifted past her smooth legs to her shoeless feet. He cringed. "Damn."
With exquisite tenderness, Jarod lifted Miss Parker's bare foot and cradled it in his lap. He gently inspected the tears in her flesh caused by their flight through the forest. Using the hem of his t-shirt, Jarod wiped away the blood from a rather large cut on her heel.
Ethan sat on his haunches next to his big brother. "Here," he said, handing Jarod the wastepaper basket he'd taken from Miss Parker's room.
Jarod quickly inventoried the contents of the makeshift bucket. There was a photograph of Miss Parker and her mother. Not her favorite picture, Jarod knew. This one had been taken when Miss Parker was perhaps eight or nine years old. He gave the photo to Miss Parker without comment.
Next Jarod found a loaded pistol. He recognized the gun but rather than hand it over, he tucked the weapon into the waistband of his pants. A large decorative scarf made for handy bandages. Jarod quickly wrapped both Miss Parker's feet in strips of torn silk.
Other items within the trashcan's contents were similarly useful. There was a ribbon to tie back flyaway hair and a pair of slippers. The slippers were the kind that resembled ballet shoes so they fit easily over the fresh bandages.
The last item Jarod found caused him to frown in confusion. It took him a moment to realize what it meant. The bit of white silk slid tantalizingly across his palm. Flushing with embarrassment, Jarod held the panties out to Miss Parker.
"I take it you need these?" he asked as delicately as possible.
Miss Parker snatched the underwear from Jarod's hand. Her icy glare would have felled a lesser man.
Jarod stood up and casually turned to survey the area. The meadow was about two hundred yards wide. In the moonlight, Jarod could see the blooms of wild flowers all around. But the woods surrounding the peaceful glen were cast in deep shadow. With his back to Miss Parker, Jarod tried to peer into the darkness that surrounded them. He did his best to ignore the soft rustle of silk Miss Parker made as she pulled on her panties.
"Okay," she said in a low voice. "I'm ready now."
Jarod heard her stand. He heard Ethan hiss, "Stay down." At the same moment, Jarod saw a burst of light across the field. Knowing he'd just seen the flash from the muzzle of a gun, Jarod instinctively ducked.
There was a soft thud as the bullet impacted nearby. Miss Parker yelped in surprise. In one smooth motion, Jarod pulled the pistol from his waistband and flicked off the safety. Crouching in the grass, he focused on the shadowed tree line. When another flash appeared, Jarod was ready.
The gunshot from Jarod's un-silenced pistol echoed loudly through the night. He fired at the area behind the flash, at the place where he knew a shooter to be located. Jarod's aim found its target. A series of wavering flashes flickered from the darkness. The lights weaved drunkenly, tilting silently toward the sky as unseen hands clutched at a trigger in death.
For a moment, all was still. Jarod remained in a crouch, ready to fire again should he need to. But he knew it wouldn't be necessary.
"Jarod!" Miss Parker gasped in a strangled voice. Jarod's head snapped around to see her and he cried out in dismay. Miss Parker was standing in the grass with Ethan wrapped in her arms. The weight of the young man's slumped body was too much for her and she began to sink to her knees.
Jarod rushed to Miss Parker's side and was able to catch them both before they fell. He pulled Ethan away and eased him to the ground. The dark stain across Ethan's chest grew with an alarming rate. Jarod pushed aside his brother's jacket and tore open the younger man's shirt.
"Stay with me little brother," Jarod murmured as he pressed one palm against the gaping wound.
Ethan smiled in that eerily calm way of his. "She's safe," he whispered. "For now, she is safe."
"Oh Ethan," Miss Parker's voice was filled with sadness as she knelt at her brother's side. "You shouldn't have bothered."
The young man took her hand in his. "Had to," he said. He coughed once, spattering blood across his chin and Miss Parker's shirt.
"Easy now," Jarod said. "You'll be okay."
"Liar." Ethan sighed.
"No," Jarod cried. "Don't leave me, little brother. Please don't leave me."
"I'm sorry, Jarod." Ethan shook his head sadly. "It had to be done. The rest is up to you."
"No." Jarod's voice cracked in misery. "The shooter's dead."
"They'll send others," Ethan argued. Grabbing Jarod's hand, Ethan told him, "It isn't over. You must keep her safe."
Jarod shook his head in denial. "You'll be fine, Ethan. We'll figure this out together."
"Keep her safe," Ethan pleaded. "Promise me!"
"Ethan," Jarod moaned. Tears started to run down his cheeks.
"Promise me!" Ethan's voice was weakening. His words were spoken in little panted breaths.
Jarod sighed in resignation. "I promise," he whispered.
The strange little smile spread across Ethan's face for a moment. Suddenly he gasped, arching his back in pain. His eyes began to glaze over. "Oh," he breathed. "Listen." With that, the life abruptly drained from Ethan's body. His sightless eyes gazed toward the stars overhead.
With a tender caress, Jarod brushed his fingertips over Ethan's face, closing those wide eyes forever. "Find peace little brother," he said. Then, hugging the dead man to his chest, Jarod began to weep.
-
End Part 3
