AN for part 1: This is another two-part chapter; I broke it down so that I could get it out quicker. Enjoy! Again, many thanks to everyone taking time to read this Reviews are appreciated. ;)
Imag1ne: Keep on mentioning it! I love it that you love Lyle/Mia. It always hard to pair up a cannon character with an original one in such a way that readers will accept them…
LJP: I'm glad that things are clearer now. Enjoy the new questions that are about to be presented…
Gemini: You know, I love Broots, too. He's a lot of fun to write. As for Jarod, he won't be locked up any time soon, but later on… Who knows what'll happen…
Phi4858: Jarod's is as furious with Kip as Lyle is jealous of Kip. This does not bode well for the boy. As for Lyle and Jarod meeting as they deal with Kip- I'm sure they'll cross paths at some point.
Chapter occurs during "Til Death Do Us Part" in the fourth season. Sections marked + denote a scene from an actual episode.
Lyrics by Evanescence.
AN for Part 2: Sorry for the delay in posting; I'm trying to wrap up some art projects before classes start again as well as write this story. And then there's that little matter called work… Anyway, on with the tale!
Imag1ne: Thank you! As for Lyle's call to Kip, details of that call are going to be delayed for the time being. We'll see what Lyle's cooked up for the boy in the next chapter and let's just say, it ain't pretty.
NYT: Glad to have you back! To answer your questions: No, as of yet no one outside of Cox and Raines know of the marriage. Someone close to MP may soon find out about it. And Mr. Parker may or may not know- his involvement is currently unknown. As for the Antidote affecting Amelia's memory that is another mystery waiting to be unraveled, but the source of her amnesia stems from Jarod's Antidote and Cox's tampering.
Gemini-M: Your mention of a taxidermy plant has given me an idea… Thanks ;)
LJP: As far as Cox is concerned, let's just say what goes around comes around…
Lyrics by Evanescence
Chapter occurs during "Til Death Do Us Part" in the fourth season. Sections marked + denote a scene from an actual episode.
Chapter 6: Remember Me: Pars 1
You don't remember me but I remember you… I lie awake and try so hard not to think of you but who can decide what they dream? And dream I do...
Have you forgotten all I know and all we had? You saw me mourning my love for you….
Kip sat on the small couch in the small living room with his hands clasped together and hanging between his knees. His chin hung on his chest and his eyes stared at the ever-changing patterns in the solid beige carpet. Before him Jarod paced, his anger having turned into quiet displeasure. Kip was experiencing déjà vu: in his mind's eye he was five-years-old again and his father had just busted him for lying about how the neighbor's dog got covered in honey, flour, and Mrs. Buchanan's expensive perfume. After the scolding, Kip had received a lashing to his back end the likes of which he had yet to forget; he now worried that Jarod might top that whipping until he remembered that he was no longer a child and that Jarod was not his father.Jarod stopped his pacing and fell into a ragged recliner across the coffee table from Kip. He watched with a sad expression. A weary sigh escaped from his lips. Several times he started to say something, yet every time he stopped.
"What were you thinking?" he asked finally, his tone devoid of anger or frustration.
Kip shrugged lamely. "I-I don't know," the boy's lament permeated his very being. "I really don't. I can't explain it to myself, much less you. All I could think about was her- I didn't want to share her with anyone. I guess I thought that you might be as much competition as you would be help. I mean, you'd have to see her to understand…"
A touch of a smile brushed the corners of the Pretender's mouth. "But I have seen her, Kip. Believe me, I can understand that you're smitten with her, but-"
"So you'll help me find her?" Kip's head lifted abruptly, hope shined in his eyes.
Jarod held his hands up. "I'm not saying that." He couldn't help but feel bad for the young man, whose shoulders fell that instant he answered negatively. "I know the man who claimed her, Kip, and he is not someone you want to get involved with."
"Then Amelia might be in trouble. She needs-!"
"Kip," Jarod shot him a warning look. "She needs for you to stay out of this. She's capable of taking care of herself."
"Fine." Kip flopped against the back of the sofa and kicked his feet up onto the coffee table.
"I have an appointment that will take me out of state for a couple of days," Jarod told him as he stood. He watched Kip rise with him, not caring for the look in the boy's eyes. "I want your word that you won't pursue this Amelia thing."
"Okay, you have it," he replied morosely as he shook Jarod's extended hand.
Still grasping Kip's hand, Jarod caught the other man's gaze and held out his free hand. "I also want the phone number."
Kip's mouth opened and then snapped shut with nary a word coming out. A cloud of hopelessness descended over his features. "I won't call it again. I swear."
Jarod shook his head. "It's for your own good."
"Let me get it."
Kip disappeared into his room momentarily. He returned with a small piece of folded paper and reluctantly gave it to Jarod.
A quick glance at the paper confirmed to Jarod that it was Lyle's number Kip had happened upon. He tucked away in the inside pocket of his jacket. "If you've written this number down elsewhere, be wise and burn it, Kip."
The boy nodded and dejectedly shoved his hands in his pants pockets. After Jarod left with the promise to return to check up on him in a few days, Kip bumped his head on the closed front door several times, and when that failed to make him feel any better, he headed for his bedroom. At some point while wallowing in his melancholy, he must have fallen asleep for the next thing he knew he was being startled awakeby the insistent ringing of his cell phone.
"Hello?"
"Kip?"
"Speaking."
"This is Mr. Lyle."
He was always on the phone, it seemed. And always behind closed doors; he didn't like for her to overhear his business calls.
Amelia studied her features in the bedroom mirror while she waited for him as though it might somehow help her remember what business he was in. She was getting used to seeing the face that stared back at her; her physical image was no longer foreign to her nor did she feel as though she was in someone else's body. Few memories had surfaced. She knew she liked painting and Celtic music and was a finicky eater, but none of the important details were there. She sighed and blew a section of bangs of her eyes.
The bedroom door opened.
Amelia turned away from her reflection and looked at her husband. He stared at her peculiarly for a moment before crossing the room to closet. He said nothing as he passed and she wondered why he always looked so immensely uncomfortable around her. She drummed her nails against the wood of the chest of drawers, staring at the detail of the sculpted handles. She stopped drumming, and after a beat, pulled herself up on the chest, tucking her feet beneath her and leaning her head against the mirror.
A moment later, he exited with closet with blue silk tie in hand. He baulked momentarily when he saw her sitting on the dresser. He tried to position himself in such away that he could see himself in the mirror and maintain a safe distance from her, but she saw what he was trying to do and moved so that she blocked the mirror further.
"Are you ready to go?" he snapped as he struggled with the knot of the tie.
"No."
"Why?"
"I don't feel like it."
"You sick?"
"If I say yes, do I have to go?" Gently she slapped his hands away from the tie and took over.
He scowled childishly at her before allowing her to finish tying the knot, which she did so swiftly and neatly. He features softened. "It doesn't matter what you say, you still have to go."
Her hands fell away from his collar. "Why do I have to go?"
Her face was in profile now and it seemed to illuminate the sadness in her features. He shifted uncomfortably. "I don't know."
"Can't you do something?" she looked back him with a serious frown. "Can't you help me?"
He cringed. To him it sounded as though she thought he had the power to stop the visits to Cox and did not. He didn't know how to make her understand that his hands were tied in the situation, at least for the time being. He looked away from her and merely shook his head.
"Does this have anything to do with the things I don't remember?"
"Yes."
Tilting her head to the side, she seemed to chew on the notion. Without a word, she slid off of the chest of drawers. She stopped on her way out of the room to smooth a corner of the bedspread. Her fingers longer on the material and a frown crossed her features.
"Why don't you ever sleep in here?" she turned to him, looking extremely perturbed. "Is it me?"
Her distress was mirrored in his own features. It upset him more than he would ever admit, even to himself, that she had no memories of him… of them. Mentally, he swore, Jarod and his stupid antidote. I knew there was a catch to it!
"No," he said quietly, lifting her hand from the bed and guiding her out of the room. He glanced back over his shoulder.
"I've never slept in there."
Sunbeams danced along the sill, looking for a way into the room, but the bars of dark Venetian blinds blocked their entrance. Disheveled mounds of papers and books were scattered across the lonely desk. In the midst of the disarray, lay a shot glass and a discarded bourbon bottle. A singular shaft of quickly fading lightdarted in from the closing door.
She stepped out into the hallway, slamming the door behind her. He was headed in her direction, oblivious to everything around him. Within five steps, they collided with each other. The instant they touched both jumped back as though jolted by an enormous shock.
There were no angry barbs; no sarcastic accusations. She simply stared at him, then dropped her eyes and started to move again. Lyle almost stepped aside to let her pass when he caught a whiff of the alcohol that lingered on her breath.
"Parker?"
She didn't whirl around on him as anticipated; no chilling glare froze him as expected.
"What?" The response was half-hearted and weak. She looked as though she had been crying.
"Someone die?" The smirk died on his face before it began when his sister's head suddenly jerked up.
The look in her eyes was not one of anger, but one of intense hurt veiled with shock at the cruelty of his remark.
For once in his life, Lyle had not intended to be cruel.
Her eyes closed briefly and her expression froze. When her eyes reopened she gave him a pained glance then turned and walked away, leaving Lyle incredibly puzzled.
What did I say?
Then it dawned on him.
Thomas…
It was almost a year to the day that his sister's boyfriend had been murdered.
He watched as she disappeared around a corner. He almost called her back.
In the shadows and out of earshot, a pair of electric blue eyes watched the brief encounter between the Parker siblings. The meeting lasted long enough for the man in shadows to see that the conversation lacked the typical bitterness and competition that accompanied every other exchange between the two. This led the Centre's resident Undertaker to conclude one thing: the Parker twins were conspiring together.
"Have you found anything yet?"
Broots heaved a heavy sigh and shook his head. "No, nothing. On anything."
Sydney nodded and gave the younger man a consoling pat on the shoulder. "Something is bound to turn up sooner or later."
"I guess. It just seems odd not to hear anything at all from Jarod."
"I wouldn't worry about it too much, Broots. I'm confident that he's fine."
"Yeah, well, I doubt that'll make Miss Parker happy." Broots paused a beat, then looked up at the doctor with a frown. "Where is Miss Parker anyway?"
Sydney shrugged and returned to his seat. "She had some personal business to attend."
"She's had an awful lot of that lately," Broots muttered, returning to his computer search.
"Missing Miss Parker, are we?" the doctor couldn't suppress a smile.
Broots blushed profusely. "W-well, yeah- I mean no! No. It's just that… Hey, you know, I haven't been able to find anything at all regarding with Project ARES thing either."
Still smiling, Sydney let the subject of Miss Parker go. He turned to Broots. "Nothing at all. Now that is surprising."
"I know." Broots pushed his chair away from the monitor. "The only information I've found is regarding the names and I'm not even sure that it has anything to do with the Project."
"What did you find?"
"Only that Melpomene is one of the Muses in Greek mythology. She's the muse of tragedy who was known for her singing. She carries a knife or club in one hand and tragic mask in the other and wears cothurnus. And then, of course, Ares is-"
"The god of war," Sydney finished uneasily.
"You think this means anything?"
"It could very well mean a lot."
Winds of change were blowing through the Centre; Lyle could feel them. He had the unshakable feeling that something very big had recently occurred as the Triumvirate was being very still. Lyle hurried down the hall to his office at rapid pace dragging along with him something covered with his suit jacket.
After practically throwing his coat into the office, Lyle made sure to lock the door behind him.
"Was that really necessary?" Amelia pulled his coat off of her head andbrushedout her rumpled hair with her fingers.
As usual, he didn't answer her. He went to his desk and pulled out his chair. "I have work to do so sit down and stay quiet."
As he reached for the phone, she wriggled her way onto his lap. He growled.
"That's not what I meant."
She responded by leaning back against him.
"Amelia…"
She twisted the rings on her finger.
"I have work to do-"
"You always have work to do," she blurted out suddenly. It was evident she had been dwelling on the topic for some time. "And you're always on the phone!"
"Mia..." He was stunned by the sudden outburst.
"No!" She was determined to be heard. "You don't sleep in our bedroom. You refuse to talk about our wedding. What's going on?" She turned around to face him. "Am I just your trophy wife? Do you have a mistress or harem on the side? Is that why you're never home?"
Lyle looked like he hadbeen shot poin-blankin the stomach.The accusations came out of left field, leaving him speechless.
She glared at him and he stared at her.
"It's not like that, Mia," his voice was so soft that as close as she was she could barely hear him.
Her anger dissipated instantly. Slipping an arm around his shoulders, she leaned her cheek against his. "I'm sorry. I just… I'm so confused and frustrated. I don't know what to think about, about us, about this,"
"I know," he replied, clearing his throat. "Let's just forget about it, okay."
"But, Bobby, I-"
He held up his hand to silence her. He thought he had heard the doorknob turn.
Impossible. I locked the door.
The knob turned fully and the door creaked open.
Didn't I?
Lyle stood abruptly, dumping Amelia on the floor as he did so. He motioned for her to stay put. Without further direction, she tucked herself away under the desk.
Mr. Cox entered the room with a grim visage. He tauntingly dangled a silver keyin full view of Lyleas he pocketed it in his jacket.
Lyle glared coldly at the man he was seeing far too frequently. "What. Do. You. Want."
Cox slid a murderous gaze over to the Under-Director. "What were you discussing with Miss Parker earlier today?"
Lyle blinked. "I haven't discussed anything with her lately."
"I saw you speaking with her earlier, Mr. Lyle. Do not lie to me."
He lifted his chin slightly and studied Cox through narrowed lids.
"What was said, Mr. Lyle?" All of Cox's attention was centered on Lyle and he did not see the mist-gray eyes peering out at him from under the desk.
Arrogance had always been his weak point. He smirked at the other man contemptuously. "What are you going to if I don't tell you?"
Cox with returned the sneered with a chilling flash of teeth.
"We'll find out, now won't we."
Have you forgotten all I know and all we had? You saw me mourning my love for you and touched my hand… I knew you loved me then…
I believe in you- I'll give up everything just to find you… I have to be with you to live to breathe; you're taking over me…
I look in the mirror and see your face… If I look deep enough so many things inside that are just like you are taking over…
"And what exactly is that supposed to mean?" Lyle's dismissive attitude evaporated at the ominous edge in Cox's threat.
Cox's eyes gleamed eerily in the artificial lighting. "We've been watching you, Mr. Lyle," he said, intentionally ignoring the other man's query. "And there are things that are not adding up."
A hiss escaped through clenched teeth. "Like what?"
Casually, Cox seated himself in the chair across the desk from Lyle, lounging in the seat with dark elegance. "Like where your father is. With all the strings he had to pull to bring you back within the Triumvirate's good graces,one would think that you be in steady contact with him. We find it difficult to believe that you have no idea where he is."
"I haven't spoken to him since he disappeared," Lyle collapsed heavily in his own chair. He hated to be reminded that it was Mr. Parker who brought him back to the Centre. He would have made it back on his own… eventually…
Cox seemed to mull the possibility over momentarily. "Perhaps," he drawled while inspecting his impeccably manicured nails. "Yes, perhaps, Mr. Parker really hasn't contacted you. But you still know where he is."
"If he hasn't contacted me then how would I know that?"
Cox leaned forward suddenly. "Because he has been keeping in touch with Miss Parker who in turn has been keeping you informed on Daddy's whereabouts."
It was all Lyle could do not to laugh out loud at the notion that Parker might actually share such information with him if she had it. Instead he controlled it and merely rolled his eyes skyward.
"This is serious!" Cox snapped impatiently. "Mr. Parker is to be found one way or another. And if you wish to preserve you position in the Centre, I suggest that you not withhold information. If you do, then you'll be submitted to the Triumvirate for investigation."
Color ebbed from Lyle's features at the implication of Cox's statement. "On what grounds?"
"Accessory to murder."
Lyle stared at the other man dumfounded. "Whose murder?" he managed finally. He couldn't think of any recent deaths he'd been involved with that would warrant a Triumvirate investigation.
Cox's eyes narrowed to sapphire slits. "Mutumbo."
The winds of change had a tendency to blow with tornado force. Though he wasn't the triggerman nor involved at all, still his mind raced to formulate a plan to cover his hide. His frantic thoughts were momentarily diverted when he felt a light pressure against his leg. He had forgotten that Amelia was under the desk. He inhaled deeply.
"What are you implying?"
Cox rose with a triumphant smirk when he heard the resignation in Lyle's voice.
"The evidence we havesuggests that the assassin comes from the highest levels of Centre hierarchy and that includes you, Miss Parker, and Mr. Parker," Cox folded his arms across his chest. "Your father has an awful lot to gain by Mutumbo's death which means that you and Miss Parker also have a lot to gain."
"All right," Lyle conceded reluctantly to parlay Cox's suspisions. "You have my full cooperation."
Cox smirked. "Wise choice, Mr. Lyle. Now then, I have a few instructions for you."
Lyle stood to face him. "I'm listening."
"Amelia's scheduled visits to SL-24 are temporarily suspended until the investigation into Mutumbo's murder is complete. She will remain in your custody so long as you behave responsibly. Step out of line just once…" Cox let the threat go unfinished. "The search for our wayward Pretender is to continue, however, if we find even the slightest hint of misconduct in the search, both you and Miss Parker will be removed from Project Retrieval regardless of whose fault it is."
The more Cox spoke the more indignant Lyle became. Who is he to come in here and take over like this? I was the one who brought him into the Centre. He should…. A thought suddenly struck him. Was he really the one who brought Cox to Centre? Now that he thought about it, he had never heard of Cox until the Triumvirate brought the man to his attention!
"Mr. Lyle!"
Lyle was jerked from his thoughts by the sound of the other man's voice. "Yes, yes," he said irritably. "I understand."
"Good." Cox cast a suspicious gaze over Lyle. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have some important business to attend."
He was nearly to the door and Lyle nearly let out the breath he had been holding, when Cox turned back to his associate with a secretive smile. "I just want to make sure that I've been perfectly clear: tow the line, Mr. Lyle. We wouldn't want anything to happen to your pretty little wife."
With one last flash of a snake's smile, Cox disappeared.
"All right, out." Lyle pulledher out from under the desk quicker than she was prepared for.She stumbled against him as she stood.
Distraught with worry and a bit of panic, it took several long moments before Lyle notice his wife's blank expression.
"What is it?" he sighed, sounding put out that he had to divert attention away from his thoughts to tend to her.
Her features were frozen in a wide-eyed vacant stare. Her fingers idly played with a lock of hair, twisting and twining it into knots. He reached over shook her slightly, but it did nothing to jar her out of the trance.
He gave up and turned his back on her.
"Jarod," she whispered.
"What?" He turned back to her with a quizzical look.
She looked up at him with stormy eyes, remaining silent. She seemed to be grappling with something- a word, a thought, an idea- something that was eluding her.
"Jarod," she said again.
There was a moment of silence before Lyle spoke. "You remember him?" There was bitter accusation in his words.
"I-" she turned her head away and grasped the edge of the desk. "He's… a… Pretender?"
Violently, he slammed his chair under the desk, livid that of all people she should remember it had to be him… Jarod!
"Who is he?"
Lyle shot her a cynical look. Straightening his tie, he erased the emotion from his visage. Then taking her by the arm, he led her from the room.
"Bobby, who is he?"
"No one important."
"But," she stopped moving with him forcing him to halt as well. "Why would Cox want you searching for him if he isn't important?"
"Drop it," he growled. "He's of no importance to you."
Amelia followed him quietly. Clearly, the subject of Jarod was a touchy one with him.
The hallway was empty when Lyle peeked out of his office door. Half-pulling, half-dragging Amelia behind, he attempted to cross the corridor before anyone saw them. They almost made it to the elevator when a familiar click of high heels against the tile caught Lyle's attention. Amelia found herself hiding once again, this time behind a massive marble column. Passing by them, oblivious to the environment around her, was a beautiful yet dangerous looking brunette. Despite the air of intimidation, there was a distinct melancholy in her features. Amelia wondered what or who made her so sad.
Parker… Another name drifted through her consciousness. She recognized that her husband's surname was somehow connected to this woman and that it was more than just a surname, but as always, details were indistinct.
She was pulled along again into the closest elevator. Once the doors were closed, she heard Lyle inhale deeply.
"Who was she?"
He looked at her blankly. "Who was who?"
"The woman you made me hide from."
"Oh." He shrugged off-handedly. "She's just my sister."
Amelia frowned. "So that'd make her my sister-in-law…" She shot him a reprimanding look. "Then why did I have to hide from her?"
"Have ever I mentioned that you ask too many questions?" He gave her sidelong glance, clearly not in a talkative mood. "Anyway, she doesn't exactly know that I'm married."
"Oh." Amelia's arms crossed over her waist and she stared at the elevator doors looking bothered. "Why do I have the feeling that even when I get my memory back, I'm still going to have a lot of questions?"
He just glared at her.
+Big J's Carnival Supplies
Towson, Maryland
Still on the East Coast, but still a good distance from the bustle of the City, he watched as a man in an orange jacket worriedly paced the floor. Broots was upset because his boss had yet to answer any of his numerous calls.
"Maybe Miss Parker will meet us here," Sydney replied, tinkering with a toy car that sat on a crate.
Broots wasn't reassured. "Syd, she hates for anyone to enter one of Jarod's lairs before she does. This just doesn't make sense- something's up."
Still fiddling with the car, the doctor was a bit more perceptive to the significance of the day. "Think back," he told him, "one year, Broots." He paused and looked at the younger man, who looked at him curiously. "Thomas."
"Thomas? Today?" His jaw dropped slightly in disbelief. "Today is one year to the day she found Thomas murdered at her house?"
He watched as Broots berated himself for leaving the messages he did as though it was an ordinary day.
"It is just any other day," Parker said, announcing her presence.
Three pairs of eyes followed the direction of her voice. It wasn't the same Miss Parker he knew so wellthat walked down the steps and onto a balloon-infested floor. He watched her quietly from his corner. Enormous empathy washed over him. The crispness was gone from her voice; the sharpness had faded from her eyes. Her attempts at sarcasm were half-hearted.
Parker did not see the humor in the justice Jarod served the target of his latest pretend. "Ladies and gentlemen," she said as she surveyed the scene around her, "I give you Ringmaster Jarod!"
And she froze when she saw the memento Jarod left her to commemorate the importance of day. He ached to move so he could better read the reaction on her face. He restrained himself as not to blow his cover. Before long she was fully in his view.
"It's Jarod's twisted little model of my first meeting with Thomas," Parker finally managed as she crouched in front of the model of a woman in a flashy car at a gas station. The gas station attendant stood in between the car and pumps. She swore at Jarod as tear stung her eyes.
"I'm sure there's an innocent reason why Jarod left it," Sydney reasoned in the Pretender's defense.
"Right," she said as she stood and faced the doctor. "And OJ was just chipping golf balls."
"All I'm saying is-"
"It's bad enough he knows how Thomas and I met, but the fact he left it for me on this day is no mistake." Quiet anger boiled beneath her words. "For once, admit he is tormenting me just to torment me. And wherever he is, I just know he's laughing."
Her words were painful and cutting. They struck hard, adding to his sorrow. Seconds passed by. They were gone and he was alone again.
How could she think that I would ever be so cruel? He wondered as he pulled the clown wig off his head. He slipped a white-gloved hand into the over-sized pocket of his coat and pulled out a photograph.
"Hardly laughing." he said with a heavy sigh as he studied the picture. His thoughts drifted to Parker's sorrow-laden eyes. A weighty sensation settled deep within his chest. As he walked past the model of Thomas and Miss Parker, he flicked the photo over it. It landed neatly on the car. The bright smiles of Parker and Thomas only made him sadder.
With a final look at the picture, Jarod turned and walked out of the building, a sad frown hidden beneath the one painted on his face. +
+The Centre
Mr. Parker's office
Parker arrived late to the meeting Cox had called, which did not sit well with the man. He was in a less than sociable mood by the time Parker arrived and it set the tone for the rest of the meeting.
His sister was not overly moved by the news of Mutumbo's death and her cavalier attitude towards Cox only tightened the noose around Lyle's neck. He could tell by thedaggers Cox continuallythrew at him that the man blamed him for his sister's indifference.
The meeting ended as poorly as it began, with Cox storming from the room. As soon as he was gone, Lyle turned on his sister.
"He was as much as accusing you… accusing me of participating in a coup!" he said forcefully, attempting to stress the direness of the situation.
Clearly, Parker didn't hear anything he said; she walked passed him as though he wasn't there.
"The least you could do is pretend to listen. Parker!" he called after her. "Call me…when you're back with the living."
The door to their father's office shut as his words fell on deaf ears. With Cox's earlier threats ringing in his own ears, Lyle paced the room trying to figure out a solution to at least one of his problems. He needed help, as much as he hated to admit it, and he needed it badly. Which was another problem in itself- he couldn't think of a single person who would voluntarily offer him their services and this was hardly the time to go around threatening people for it.
He knew Amelia would back him if she could retain the important part of her memory- the part that pertained to him. A thought crossed the forefront of his consciousness, one that he nearly dismissed due to the improbability that it would work. Yet he couldn't ignore it.
There was one person who wouldn't help him, but might assist Amelia. It was a long shot, but at the moment it was the only one he had.
Lyle made his way along the dark corridors in the lower levels of the Centre looking for Sydney. His neck ached slightly with nervous tension. He was not used to making polite requests, particularly of those beneath him. However, he had exhausted the last of his resources andsaw no other recourse. When survival was at stake, he would do anything to preserve his own- even if it meant humbling himself to the likes of Sydney.
He was nearly upon the place where Broots said the doctor would be when he heard voices below him.
"Do you believe in ghosts, Syd?" Parker voice drifted up through the grated flooring.
Lyle stood still, hidden in the shadows, listening.
"I believe in an afterlife, second chances." Sydney responded. There was no trace of the doctor left in his voice; only a friend consoling another friend. Such consolation wasan alien concept to Lyle.
"I'm talking about Thomas' presence is all around me," Parker said, trying to further explain her unsettling feelings.
He was beginning to lose confidence in his decision to talk to Sydney; he couldn't fathom speaking with the man about Amelia the way his sister did about Thomas.
"Sometimes I hear my mother's whisper of confirmation; my father's laughter. Those we love are with us always- in life and death."
As he listened to Sydney, he began to wonder about his birth mother, someone he tried never to think of. Lyle didn't think he had ever heard his father laugh- not sincerely anyway.
"It's more than that…."
He didn't hear the rest of what his sister said. He had already turned and walked away.
Jarod knew Thomas. RUMOR killed Thomas. Jarod knew Thomas. Her father was back at the Centre. Jarod and Thomas were friends. She had a new brother. Jarod knew Thomas before she did. Brigitte was RUMOR. RUMOR was dead and all evidence of her existence was nothing more than ashes.
Tommy…
Parker sat at her desk trying absorbed the sudden whirlwind of events that had engulfed her. Despite the shock at the circumstances surrounding the birth of the newest Parker and his mother's death, as well her father cold handling of the situation, the most disturbing revelation was still thefriendship Jarod had with Thomas.
Jarod, as always, had seen her through yet another dark period in her life. Always faithful, always vigilant was Jarod and Parker had a feeling that even if she were to capture the Pretender, she would never be rid of his presence.
She groaned and a knock answered her.
"What?"
Lyle slipped in the barely opened door and shut it firmly behind him. He wasn't exactly the person she was most eager to see. For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Then Lyle cleared his throat.
"I just came to tell you," he said, looking ill at ease, "that Cox has left for Africa to further look into Mutumbo's death."
Parker sat back in her seat. "That's the best news I've heard in a while."
"Yeah, well, I have even better news than that."
"Oh?"
"I've leaving, too."
"Now that is good news."
Lyle smiled wanly. "Don't get too excited. I'm coming back- it's just a business trip."
"Too bad. Where are you off to?"
He regarded her curiously. She didn't put much effort into the jabs and he wondered why she delayed kicking him out of her office. "New York City. I'll be gone a few days. My office knows how to reach me if you get a lead on Jarod."
She nodded. Lyle shifted nervously as though he had more to say but vacillated on voicing it.
"Anything else?" she asked with a hint of cynicism. She watched his tense movement inquiringly, wondering what he was scheming.
"Uh," He loosened his tie with a gloved finger. "Yeah, look about…" he balked on words, worried that they might make him appear weak. He was about to retract what he had already said when Amelia's words came back to him. Earlier, she had begged him toexplain why Parker looked so upset in the hallway. The she had urged him to acknowledge the anniversary of Thomas' death or toallow her to do so. Under different circumstance he would have gladly lether do the dirty work. However, as things stood, that simply wasn't possible.
Parker looked at him expectantly, an impatient gleam settling in her eyes.
"About Thomas, I'm sorry," he said so quickly it was difficult to distinguish the words.
Parker did hear one thing that stunned her. Lyle took a step back- the look she was giving him made him worry.
"Parker…"
"You've never used his name before," she said quietly.
"Yeah, well, Mi-" he didn't catch his slip soon enough.
"Mia," Parker mouth soundlessly. A phantom of a smile brushed her lips. "Thank you," she said, looking her brother straight in the eye. "And tell her that, too."
He gave her a curt nod and quickly escaped her office lest he say anything more damaging.