A/N: Read the long rant I wrote in the prologue and that's pretty much it. Everything still applies me thinks. If anyone STILL has issues with my fic not completely following the season 4's incidents, then for heaven's sake, don't read and save yourself and me from the trouble. Everything that has happened till 'the Inner sense part 1' has happened, but the rest relies on my imagination – am I making myself clear, heh?
Thank you for the reviews, always warm my heart. I've actually never ever read a fic with the whole 'let's get Miss Parker pregnant' (I have no idea how I've managed to let those slip from my sight) idea, but then again, I'm really picky when it comes to the fics I choose to read, heh, so it's no wonder.
Disclaimer: Again. Read what I wrote in the prologue and that should do it. I'm too tired (it's 3am) and also too goddamn lazy (that's just me in general) to retype it all, you know. Honestly, if I did get money out of this, you think I'd post it here?
When the Triumvirate says 'jump', you say 'on who'
by Syrai
Chapter 1 – the duck pond
Ice cream. One of the best inventions ever made, no questions asked. Jarod licked the melting ice cream to prevent the substance from dripping down onto his lap. He couldn't really decide what was the best flavor, but vanilla seemed to tickle his senses the most. Maybe because it was so… normal. Not trying to taste anything but real old-time ice cream. Naturally, he didn't really know what 'old-time vanilla' tasted like, but he assumed it was something like the vanilla ice cream he was eating since it was called 'real old-time vanilla'. Mr. Blake, the ice cream seller, had said there was nothing better than the taste of original vanilla ice cream and that it was a real shame you couldn't get it everywhere these days. People change, he said, and so do ice creams with them.
It was so peaceful that for a slight moment Jarod forgot why he had even come there. For some unknown reason, observing strangers had always brought him the kind of comfort he needed to escape from his problems. He could sit there for hours, in a rain station or in a cafe, in some bench in the park or in the lobby of some hotel and just watch how ordinary people lived their lives. And every once in a while he allowed himself to pretend that he was one of them, just waiting for his loved one to arrive. Of course, by the end of the day, he was always forced to wake up into the cold reality and realize he actually didn't have anyone to wait for… or waiting for him.
Now things were different. He had his father and his sister again. When Emily would get better, he'd take her and his father there. They'd sit in that same bench watching the ducks swimming in the pond in front of them and they'd eat ice cream and talk and laugh and be happy. They'd be a family he had been searching for so long. And one of these days, he'd find his mother too.
Emily. Just thinking of her brought a blinding shine into his eyes and a wide, content happy on his lips. Thank God he had been there on time to take care of her after that so called accident. He snorted and the smile faded into a bitter glare. There were just no limits to what the Centre was capable of doing, was there? Not only had they stolen him from his parents when he was just a little boy and killed his brother, but also copied his DNA and made a clone out of him that hadn't even known the truth about himself. The latest episode was about Emily that had been too close to discover something they wanted to keep as a secret… the Centre had cold-bloodedly thrown his little sister out of window onto the street in hope of killing her. Unfortunately Emily had lost her memory and all Jarod had been left with was pictures of some guy he assumed Emily had thought to be him.
It bothered him, not knowing what to do next. He had been thinking of going to pick up Zoey, his some-sort of girlfriend, and introducing her to his newly-found family. The only problem that particular plan had, was the fact he didn't want to get the woman involved with the Centre any more than she already was. If protecting the woman he cared about meant staying away from her for awhile, then it was what he had to do. Jarod sighed. Of course, from another point of view, it would be better for Zoey to be as close to him as possible; at least he could make sure she was in safe hands. Or should he send all three of them, Zoey, Emily and his father out of the country to protect them and try to locate his mother alone? God, he hated being alone!
The ice cream had already vanished down his throat and Jarod knew it was time to stand up and get going. But knowing that didn't really have any kind of effect on him. He just sat there, eyes closed and breathed out, slowly.
"Time to go", he said to himself out loud opening his eyes and not caring if people passing him by looked at him funnily. He had very much gotten used to those; funny looks. During his days outside the badgering walls of his childhood prison, he had received those looks so often that it had actually got amusing. At first he hadn't even noticed them, but with time passing by, he had started to. If he had been someone else, he probably would've given an amazed pretender those looks too.
After only 5 minutes of walking towards the St. Catherine Church where his sister was recovering, he felt his cell-phone vibrate in his breast pocket. What now? It took only a second for him to locate and get a hold of the phone. Dad…
"Hey", he picked up smiling. It was always good to hear his father's voice, even though he had seen him every single day since their latest rendezvousing. In fact, Jarod was somewhat sure he was calling from the church in front of him. "Hey son, I've got some news for you. Where are you?"
"Close", he replied, "in case you're with Emily."
"Not this time, Jarod. One of my sources had new information."
Jarod's eyebrow rose up. New information concerning what? Only now he noticed he had stopped somewhere in the middle of the phone call and continued walking towards the church again. "I'm listening."
"Jarod, your mother may be in Seattle." His father's voice quivered with hope, which stopped Jarod's breathing for what seemed like eternity. Could it really be happening? Was this the final clue, the one they had been looking for all along? Only one way to find out.
"… What… how… I mean…" He wasn't sure what he meant. "If you want I can go check it out", Major Charles offered even though he knew Jarod would want to go himself. As expected Jarod protested. "No dad, I'll go. You stay with Emily." Jarod glanced to his sides before crossing the busy road and entering the Church.
"Son, it might be false alarm… Can you handle it?"
If he had to, of course. Was there anything a pretender couldn't handle? I'll pretend I'm ok if it's a dead end, like always, he thought bitterly. What had happened to the young boy who didn't really know how to be bitter, not even when he had every right to be? Nowadays it was the leading feeling of his, although relocating a part of his family had helped a bit. "Yeah, we'll just keep searching for her if that's how it turns out to be. I'll just check on Emily and get my stuff."
Major Charles let out a breath, but Jarod couldn't be sure whether it was a relieved sigh or not. Probably worried one. "Be careful, ok?"
Jarod opened their room's door smiling. Well, technically it was Emily's room for the time being, but they had all slept in the same room. It felt good to have someone wishing him good luck, fussing and making sure he was safe. In many ways, Sidney had been the one to play the father to the pretender over the passed years; even though he himself had strongly denied it. Still, every time Jarod called him he sensed his worry. The warnings were there, only they were hidden in between the lines. Lately he had started to think they had always been there… all the things Sidney had done for him when he had still been the Centre's private subject of study… even then, he had been protecting the young boy secretly.
But Sidney wasn't his father-character anymore. Occasionally he still helped him break free from Miss Parker's or the Center's attacks, but in the end, he was trying to get his escapee back. Why? Jarod didn't know. The Centre wasn't going to use his skills for good any time soon.
"Jarod?"
"What?" Major Charles' worried voice brought him back to the present. Focus, Jarod.. "Oh, don't worry dad, I'll be careful, promise. Always am." He hang up the phone taking a deep breath and sat down into a chair next to Emily's bed. Finding their mother was important, but he really didn't want to leave his baby sister behind. Every time he blinked, he feared she wouldn't be there when he opened his eyes again. The girl was asleep. Good, he thought stroking her hand gently, careful not to wake her up. She needed to rest to fully recover, though it would've been nice to talk to her before he had to leave. With closed eyelids Jarod rested his forehead against her soft hand that he was still holding in his.
"… Jarod." His head shot up immediately as he heard the weak voice speak his name. "Emily", he whispered against her palm. "Figured it's time for me to wake up." She tried to smile and he of course, returned the smile with bright eyes. "You're damn right. We've missed you, sleeping beauty."
"I wonder how beautiful I am after being thrown out of a building…"
Jarod tilted his head. He had only spoken with his sister few times, but both times he had been completely unaware of what had happened to her. "So you remember?"
"Something, yeah… not much, though", Emily replied flinching as the pain shot somewhere in her body. It seemed that every bone and muscle was equally hurt and breathing was more painful than she had ever imagined it to be possible.
"It's ok, you'll get your memory back in time." The sad, vulnerable look on her eyes made Jarod curse silently. How could someone hurt a creature this sweet?
"I just hope it's not too late…"
"Don't worry about it." More than anything he wanted to release the weight from her shoulders, wipe away all the bad memories and nightmares. It was painful for him to watch her like this, all vulnerable and lost. "I'm gonna have to leave you alone for a little while, Em", Jarod said suddenly. He needed to tell her why he was leaving her and it had to be done before she would lose her consciousness again. Clearly it was only a matter of minutes before that would happen. "I'm gonna go try find mom, ok? The sisters are taking care of you and dad's around too. I don't know where he is right now, but he'll be back before the night falls, I tell you that much."
She nodded, too exhausted to speak. Jarod took the unspoken hint and stood up placing her hand back to her side. "You sleep now baby sister, okay? Sweet dreams." With that said, he pressed a tender kiss on her forehead watching her drift away from him once again. But it was ok, because this time, she'd come back. And he'd be there to see it.
0000
Phone. It was a goddamn phone that dared to interrupt her first peaceful dream for months and drag her back to the reality she loathed with every fiber of her being. With a rather violent gesture she rolled over to her other side and reached for the phone on her nightstand.
"What?" Miss Parker snarled her always so pleasant greeting. It's 6 am, she realized casting a glance towards the alarm clock next to her phone. "This better be something important or I'll shove this phone up into-"
"I-it's me, Broots", a stuttering voice cut her words. "Oh, you", she snorted letting her body fall back onto the bed. Damnit, why couldn't he have called just a little bit later? Few minutes, ten maybe. She had been seeing a dream so vivid about Thomas that…
He's dead, Parker. "What is it?"
"It's about…" he hesitated, obviously not trusting the line. Well he was right – the Centre had a nasty little habit with tapping her phone whenever it suit their purposes. "-you know who."
When it was said with a tone like his, she sure did. The tiredness vanished immediately as she sat up straight flying the blanket as far as possible. "I'll be there in a flash." As usual, the phone clicked before he could say another word.
The flash, as she had called it, turned out to be an hour and a half. Well, an hour and 37 minutes to be precise, but who really counted? Broots sighed glancing his watch. Yep, an hour and 38 minutes now.
It was at that unfortunate minute that the doors leading to Miss Parker's office where pushed open. "Get your ass off my chair!" Miss Parker didn't have to tell him twice.
"You didn't tell anything to Sidney, did you?" She questioned right away. I swear I'll strangle you if you did!
"Good morning to you too." Just one deadly glare silenced his witty remark. "No, you told me not to", Broots replied shakily. Why couldn't she be in a good mood at least once a month? She was so beautiful when she smiled… besides, there was that gastric ulcer to worry about if she didn't loosen up a bit. Of course saying his thoughts out loud didn't even cross his mind. There were so much better ways to die than to be beaten to death by Miss Parker.
"So, tell me, what is it?" She was already sitting in her chair, elbows on the table staring at him questioningly. She was more or less clearly not in the mood of word games, so he said what he had to say. "I believe Jarod is in Seattle. I-"
She waved her hand not wanting to hear another word. "Don't even bother explaining how you did it, nerd. Just be a good boy and give me an address."
He frowned. Darn, was she really going to… well… go with the current orders? "You aren't really going to do… it, you know?"
"What other choices do I have?" Her voice seemed strong, but underneath she felt the exact opposite. Weak and tired. If only there was a way to end it all… to make her mother's killer pay for his actions and leave the Centre behind for good. She had tasted the life outside these walls and she had to admit, it tasted better than the life she had now. "They won't let me resign, but they don't want me here, either. It's an impossible situation from which I have no way out. Alive", she added relishing the last word, stretching it to make her point heard. "If I don't do it, the Triumvirate will find a way to get rid of me. And I don't intend to get buried myself before I've buried the son of a bitch who killed my mother."
The only thing Broots could do, was nod. "When the Triumvirate says 'jump'-"
"you say 'on who', I know, I remember", Broots finished her sentence sighing out, defeated. The cynical smile he received seemed satisfied with herself. So she should be - her point had been heard, indeed.
"So, the address?" She questioned again after giving Broots a moment to internalize her words. Finally, he gave up. "I'll regret this later, won't I?"
"No", she opposed rolling her eyes as Broots hold out a piece of paper for her to grab, "but I probably will."
