As soon as Parker enters her house, she knows someone else is there. Pulling her gun from its holster, she does a visual sweep of her living room. Keeping the stairs at her back, she moves through the house, looking up through the staircase for any movement from the first floor. None.
The rarely quiet voices in her head do nothing to calm her nerves as she edges toward the kitchen. She rounds the door to find a vase full of white roses on her counter, illuminated by the moonlight filtering through the window. Searching the shadows, she trains her gun at the corner by her backdoor when one moves. She releases the safety and the breath she'd been holding in at the same time as Jarod steps forward.
Parker isn't as surprised as she should be, hell she'd spent half the afternoon in a mood because she hadn't heard from him. After all, he showed up after Thomas died, why not after her father's funeral. That pent-up emotion snaps out aptly, "You've got a hell of a nerve, Genius."
Jarod sighs as he steps out of the shadows. He pays no attention to her gun nor does he appear apologetic about breaking into her home. "I didn't expect you home for a few more hours yet, Miss Parker."
She flicks the light switch, allowing her to see him properly. "Don't exactly feel like putting in the overtime."
And she still doesn't; she won't be dragging him back to the Centre tonight. She's too tired.
She looks over at the flowers. White tulips. They're beautiful. She doesn't spy a card or anything else lying around. "To what do I owe the pleasure, Jarod? You could've had the flowers delivered."
Jarod flounders for a second, unsure how to voice his reason. "I'm sorry for your loss, Parker."
"You hated my father, Jarod," she exhales, irritated by the sincerity in his tone. It's safe for her to be angry with him, she's been angry with him for years.
"You didn't," Jarod counters as though it is really that simple for him. Her father was the figurehead of his captivity. "You miss him."
Parker shrugs and briefly negates the reasoning of clicking the safety on her gun before removing the holster from her waist and putting them together on the counter. She doesn't have the strength to fight Jarod or with him, not today. She fills the kettle with water, placing it on the stove. She pulls two cups from the cupboard without asking if he'd like a drink, putting a teabag in each, wishing she was heading straight for the liquor cabinet instead. "What's to miss? Broken promises and lies?"
"You believed he was and loved him as your father. Whatever anyone tells you now, nothing is going to take those feelings away," Jarod offers kindly, any disdain he felt towards Mister Parker absent from his voice.
"I'll miss the simpler life, that's for sure," Parker quips and he accepts her answer with a nod. Anything is simpler than navigating her life while adjusting to the news that Raines is her biological father, controlling the facets of her life. She finishes making the tea before sliding his cup across to him.
Jarod glances dubiously between her and liquid, she watches his questions pass over his face, quite possibly thinking she's having a psychological break. She might be. "Come on, Jarod, you saw me make it."
He's still suspicious as he reaches for the cup. "I'm not used to you being so hospitable, it's quite unnerving."
"Well, I'm not going to apologise for it," she all but snaps at him. She stalks past him to the living room, where she checks the curtains, making sure there can be no peeping toms tonight. She doubts Jarod would break into her house if there were cameras or listening devices. She makes herself comfortable in the armchair, slipping off her heels to curl her feet under her, as she waits for Jarod, the genius, to catch up. "Have some tea with me, Jarod. You should be happy I'm not drinking myself into a stupor like last time."
"I think I'd prefer the alcohol," he murmurs, slumping into the opposite armchair still clad in his requisite leather jacket, looking ready to bolt at any moment.
So would she.
Parker realised a while ago she liked this maturing, edgier side of him. He isn't completely jaded by the outside world, yet he isn't that sheltered, naïve man who escaped five years ago. He might still obsess over junk food or experience, immerse himself with stimulation to make it feel as though something he'd had his whole life instead of being deprived of it.
She appraises him for the first time since she arrived home, since the plane crash. He's cut his hair and there's a days-worth of stubble covering his jaw. He looks as tired, as weary as she feels. She can see the toll Carthis took on him, the light in his eyes a little dimmer than before. Sydney was right about Jarod needing to talk. Like her, it isn't Sydney he needs to talk to. Considering, that she alone can understand how he's feeling, she figures she owes him a little civility.
"Thank you for the flowers, Jarod, they're beautiful," Parker says softly, meeting his eyes.
Jarod nods in acknowledgment, looking bashful. "You look tired," he replies just as softly.
"So do you," she accuses gently. "I didn't even know you were back in the States. You've been quiet."
She regrets the words the second they leave her mouth as they're both taken back to their last conversation. This is what he's been avoiding. Out of self-preservation, he doesn't want to open up to her only for her to reject him again. If she's honest with herself, she's afraid too. She doesn't know if she has the strength to push him away again.
"I haven't stopped moving since Morocco," Jarod admits, refusing to acknowledge the reasons for his lack of contact.
"Don't," Parker advises harsher than she intends. Jarod cocks his head questioningly. "Raines and Lyle pinned the plane crash and Adama's death on you. I don't know if the Triumvirate has made their own plans for you."
"I've been keeping track of communications, there's no new directive yet," he explains, unsurprised by her revelation. He leans forward to place his cup on the coffee table between them.
"Any news on your mother?"
Their mothers are a neutral topic. Safer than their fathers and the organisations which control them anyway. Jarod shakes his head. "I've been chasing leads on the evacuees from Carthis, only there's no trace of her after the boat reached the mainland. She must have used an alias."
"I'm sorry, Jarod."
"I know you are, Parker. She could give us the answers we both need."
Part of her wonders if his mother does have the answers they need. The other part of her hopes their world won't be rocked by another revelation in the meantime. Instead of sharing these thoughts with Jarod, she ponders yet another question, "What if they're not the answers we want?"
"We try to reconcile them and adapt as we always do," Jarod sadly admits. They've been through too much, come too far, to stop now.
Parker's eyes travel around her home, the companionable silence heavier than usual. Jarod hadn't planned on seeing her tonight, expecting to be long gone before she discovered the flowers. They have nothing to do with secrets or lies, only a gift from one old friend to another on the day a parent is buried. She's touched by the gesture, though she would've been satisfied with a phone call at 3 AM. Having tea with him, a token, a keepsake, a reminder of their time on Carthis, is a moment outside of their lives. They've had these moments before, after Thomas died, after finding out the truth about Ethan, Carthis, where they ignore the rules enforced by the Centre. And with each passing moment, her walls drop a little quicker.
"Why are you here, Jarod?"
"I wanted to check on you," Jarod confesses. "Sydney's worried."
"He's not the only one," Parker admits. She's moving through her day, going through the motions. Checking communications, attending meetings, getting railed at by Raines for the lack of leads. Yet she feels detached from it all. Those around her have noticed the change in her demeanor. Hell, Lyle called her on it, mere hours ago, at the cemetery.
"I'm surviving, Jarod," she assures him, her words sounding hollow in her own ears. "Although, those around me seem to think I'm hell-bent on giving Raines any excuse to rip me a new one." She shakes her head at herself, acutely aware of his careful gaze. "I don't know, maybe I am."
"As tempting as goading Raines is, I'd rather not break in a new huntress," Jarod jokes.
"I'm the only one who will ever bring you in," Parker claims haughtily. Jarod tips his head, half a smirk playing on his lips. She's entitled to the claim, and he knows it. As do the Powers that Be, which is probably how she's managed to stay on the search team for so many years without anyone demanding she is removed from it. Jarod wouldn't entertain anyone else. "No one else knows how to put up with your crap."
"And here I was, thinking you chase me around because of my charm," he drawls.
"You're a pain in my ass," she deadpans. Their eyes connect and she sees his innate warmth, his affection for her clear as ever in his expression. She marvels and seethes at how easily they switch from enemies to friends.
She pauses, remembering her day and the chance encounter with McGonnell. "I met an old friend of my mother's at the wake." Jarod raises an eyebrow at the information. "Apparently, he hasn't attended a Centre function in years, yet he reappears at my father's funeral."
Her curiosity piques Jarod's interest. It feels odd being the one to impart a secret to Jarod. "Who is he?"
"Other than his name being McGonnell, I have no idea," Parker shrugs, finding it easier to discuss this with Jarod than she did with Sydney. "I was holding my baby brother and it was as though he was looking at my mother."
"That's not uncommon, Parker," Jarod points out. Jarod takes every opportunity he can to remind her of the resemblance.
"I know, but…" she trails off, not knowing how to put it into words.
"Your inner sense?" Her old friend clarifies.
She winces, shaking her head briefly. "Not really, the voices were quiet," she explains. "Broots is running a background search on him. Given his hermit tendencies, I think meeting with him in person will yield more information." From the look on Jarod's face, Parker knows he doubts her reasoning. She expects he will know everything there is to know about McGonnell and every other guest at her father's wake by tomorrow morning. "He asked to meet with him and told me to bring Adam with me."
"Your little brother?"
"I don't know why, only that it will piss Raines off." She watches him bob his head thoughtfully. "He reminds me of you."
"McGonnell?"
"My brother," Parker corrects, not sure it's wise to reveal any of her concerns for Adam's future. Putting a voice to it makes it real, and tangible and she's avoided doing so because of the choices she'll need to make.
Parker chances looking at Jarod, seeing the white of his knuckles as he grips the arms of his chair, his face drawn and eyes wide in panic. She didn't want to burden him with this, except she can't think of anyone else to confide in about this. He's uniquely qualified to understand the twisted quandary she's found herself in.
"Are they testing him?" He asks roughly, trying to control his emotions for her sake.
"I don't know," Parker says truthfully. She doesn't even know if Adam has the pretender gene. She shuffles forward to put her cup on the coffee table when she realises her hands are shaking. She clasps her hands together, feeling calmer as she feels her mother's ring cutting into her other fingers. "Adam has two nannies, one for the day shift, one for the night. He seems to like them; at least, he doesn't shy away from them. As far as I can tell, they've started teaching him about letters and numbers, the same as a regular two-year-old."
"But?"
"He's bright," Parker sighs. "He likes it when I read to him. He's funny and sweet, and he looks at me as though I can protect him from anything." She takes a steadying breath. "He clung to me all afternoon, he had no idea what was going on let alone who our father was. Daddy never spent any time with him."
"You're angry," Jarod says.
"I'm terrified," she corrects.
"Of what?"
"I need your help. I can't let Raines raise him the way he raised our brothers."
Her answer is followed by a loaded silence. She didn't know what to expect if or when she asked him to help her liberate Adam from the Centre. She hadn't known that was what she'd been mulling over for weeks. The one time she needs her mother's guidance, the voices are strangely quiet in her head as though forcing her to decide for herself. Jarod witters on about turning points, this may not be what he had in mind, but this isn't about him. It's about Adam. And her.
Jarod considers her for a long time. Well, the thirty-odd seconds seemed like a long time anyway.
"I have one condition," Jarod finally speaks.
Her eyes snap to his, knowing intuitively what his condition is. She shakes her head. "No, Jarod."
Parker rises from her chair, taking her cup back to the kitchen. Picking his up as she passes is a mistake as his hand catches her wrist. "What about Adam?"
"What about him?"
"Who can protect him better than you can?"
"You can!" Parker snatches her arm out of his grip and strides into the kitchen. He's quick to follow. She feels her eyes fill with tears as she tries to get a grip. "I'm not some damsel in distress Jarod, I don't need you to save me."
"No, you're not, Parker," Jarod fires back. "I can't do what you're asking, knowing what Raines will do…Parker, please," he begs, coming up behind her.
"Then, don't!" Parker whirls around to face him. "You think it's that easy?!" She rages at him. "Just because I don't want this life for Adam, doesn't mean I can just walk away from it." She pauses. "You could have disappeared years ago if you wanted to, but you haven't. Don't get angry with me for not walking away when you aren't able to either."
Neither of them can leave when all of their questions lead them back to the Centre.
"We can work together, Parker," Jarod reasons, gentler than before. "We work well together, Parker, we proved that in Scotland."
She tries to reason that in her own head. They're both intelligent, tenacious, and determined. They're also independent, and bull-headed, and they can be real shits when they put their minds to it. If they have the same goal, same purpose, God help whoever stands in their way. She's learned to work with Sydney and Broots, they both support and care for her in ways she doesn't deserve. As much as their intentions are bound by friendship, they don't understand her the way Jarod does.
Working with Jarod is different, instinctual almost. They trust each other, a camaraderie, a connection, she barely comprehends and that scares her.
"I'm not asking for an answer now, Parker, I'm asking you to think about it," Jarod says without recrimination when she says nothing. "In the meantime, I'll look into the security around your brother."
"What about my meeting with McGonnell?"
"Call it a test run," Jarod shrugs. "It'll give me a chance to dig around for information on what or if Raines has plans for Adam."
"Thank you, Jarod," Parker says, relief flooding through her. The fog in her head lifted for the first time in weeks. She knows this is only the beginning and she has no idea how she'll say goodbye to Adam when the time comes. She only hopes he'll have a better life, free from Raines and the Centre.
