Disclaimer: The characters
Miss Parker, Sydney, Jarod, Broots etc. and the fictional Centre, are all
property of MTM, TNT and NBC Productions and used
without permission. I'm not
making any money out of this and no infringement is intended.
Author's Notes: This is in
response to Mickey's picture challenge.
It's a lovely pic Hope you enjoy!
by Caroline Corken
The wind was howling outside, rain hammering at the windows like it
needed to get in. Only no one was home to answer it the door. No one would be
ever again.
* * * * *
The funeral had gone according to plan. Employee's, friends and so
called family had lined the edge of the grave, smirks and delight carefully
hidden, crocodile tears outweighing the pitifully few genuine ones that fell
from only two sets of eyes.
Mr. Parker sat stoic as he listened to the priest, the words meaningless
to him as he came to realize the enormity of what was happening here today. His
little girl…his angel was no longer by his side. All the deceit and the lies
that he'd promised himself he would one day make up for weighed heavily in his
heart, crushing the stone into dust as he realized that he had no one he could
really trust by his side anymore. No one to ensure that the name Parker would regain
it's old glory within the Centre. Never once realizing just how selfish he was
really being.
* * * * *
Broot’s tears where perhaps the most honest thing there that day. Gone
was the woman who could scare him with a look; who could make his heart beat
faster just by hearing her name; the woman who made him do the most craziest of
things in an effort to discover her own truths buried deep between layer after
layer of lies. He had thought once that he'd loved her, and it came as
something of a surprise that he finally realized that he still did, but not
like that. No, this love was like something else again. He wanted to protect
her and comfort her and make sure she could be happy no matter what price he
had to pay. Looking down at the dirt at his feet Broots realized that he was
burying a sister.
He'd never known anyone quite like her before and knew he never would
again.
* * * * *
Sydney tried to hold back the tears, and so far had done a wonderful job
of it. Still, every so often one would get past his guard; sliding down his
cheek, as he held on tight to the small crucifix in his pocket, the edges of it
digging into his hand. Miss Parker had become like a daughter to him. Oh, it
was something he could never tell her of course, for there was his own pride
involved, but he did feel a certain kind of love for her, a desire to try and
protect her; a fiercely proud, tempestuous, often hurt little girl, who wanted
and needed nothing more than the mother the Centre had ripped away from her.
Sydney looked around at the crowd standing or sitting around the gaping
hole in the ground, the casket covered with Miss Parker's favorite flowers. He
saw their faces, their expressions and knew that only a few here were genuine
in their grief. He cast a tired, worn out look at Broots, receiving a similar
look in return.
At least Miss Parker had this. What did Jarod have?
There was no one to cry at his tombstone. No one to be told that their
son was dead, no one who would visit his grave and place flowers on it until
they too became old and grey and eventually joined him in that eternal rest.
No. The car had gone up in flames and Broot’s, Sydney and a team of
sweepers had all witnessed the act. A bomb planted in revenge by one of Jarod’s
targets, the Centre distracting him just long enough to make him careless as
they once again closed in on him. Nothing had survived.
This was nothing more than a memorial service. Memories and the search
for truth being buried once more by the Centre.
Jarod purposely being forgotten.
Mr. Parker stood and placed a single white rose on the top of the
casket, Lyle doing the same only with a blood red rose.
Sydney couldn’t take it any more and just walked away from them all.
***3 weeks later***
Broot’s came down the steps, a brown envelope in his hand, watching as
Sydney moved between three sets of twins, clipboard in hand.
“This arrived for you today Syd.” Broot’s pasted a smile onto his face. Ever
since the funeral Sydney had seemed to have lost his way in the world. Broot’s
had tried several times to get him over to his house for dinner with him and
Debbie, but the older man seemed content to just sleep and work. Broot’s wasn’t
even sure he was eating properly. “Maybe its good news or something. You know,
like…maybe you won the sweep stakes or something?”
Sydney said nothing, taking the envelope and opening it.
However, as Broots watched him read a note, a smile came back onto his
face, one Broot’s hadn't seen there in a very long time.
“What is it?” A sudden, horrible thought occurred to him. Maybe it had
been bad news. Maybe this was all that was needed to push Sydney over the edge.
He really started to worry when Sydney started to laugh.
“Sydney? What's wrong? Are you OK? Do you need…a Doctor maybe?”
The psychologist just shook his head as he handed over the note and the
photograph that Broot’s could now see poking out of the envelope.
He pulled out the picture first, his eyes widening in shock.
It was Jarod and Miss Parker, and both of them looked more alive and
happier than Broot’s could ever remember seeing either of them before in his
life.
Miss Parker's eyes just seemed to shine somehow; joy radiating from her
like a beacon in the night.
With Jarod it was the smile that showed the world how he was feeling. The
pain Broot’s knew he carried around with him seemed to have eased considerably.
Gone was the haunted, hunted look that he'd sometimes seen whenever the two of
them had met face to face.
Both of them looked so happy.
“Read the note Broots.”
Broot’s set the picture down, ignoring the stares of the twins in
Sydney's lab. He read it out loud.
“I’M SORRY FOR THE DECEIT SYDNEY, BUT MISS PARKER AND I HAD A LOT TO
TALK ABOUT AND WE DIDN'T WANT TO WORRY ABOUT THE CENTRE DROPPING IN ON US. I
KNOW YOU WON'T BE ABLE TO KEEP THE NEWS OF OUR RESURRECTION A SECRET FOR MUCH
LONGER, BUT WE COULDN'T GO ON WITH THE LIES. THERE'S BEEN TOO MANY OF THEM AND
WE DIDN'T WANT THIS NEW CHAPTER IN OUR LIVES TO START THE SAME WAY.
WE’RE MORE DETERMINED THAN EVER TO DISCOVER THE TRUTH, AND I THINK THAT
TOGETHER WE WILL.
TAKE CARE SYDNEY,
JAROD.
Ps
Broots. Thank you for the tears you shed. Every single one meant a lot
to me.
Love,
Miss Parker.”
Broot’s looked over to Sydney, a smile coming to his lips. “What do you
think the Centre is going to do now that they've teamed up?”
Sydney laughed. “Worry.”
The End.
Feedback please [email protected]