yourunichase | 44.-Accident voice post.

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44.-Accident voice post.

[There' a little click followed by the sound of satin sheets rustling and then a small, hopeful, sleepy voice.] Tommy?

[A little pause and then there is a large gasp before Parker starts yelling and raging and...sounding tearful?.] NO! No you have got be fucking kidding me. No. Damn it, I fucking got shot for my fucking father wasn't that enough?

I don't want to fucking be here anymore!

Damn it. Damn it. I want...

[Parker had gotten up to pace at this point and then she found the letter from Paddy.] No. Fuck you.

[And then a crunching sound as Parker threw the new communicator thing against the wall.]

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Kiss my ass, Cathy.

[She doesn't say it unkindly. Opening the door, she sees Parker dressed in the worst outfit ever, looking at a piece of stained glass art. She walks over and crouches next to her, and sees the glass!Parker's heart is missing.]

Wow. That? Is pretty twisted.

[Parker was too upset even to respond to being called Cathy, though it would be stowed up for later. For right now she just kept staring at the place where her heart should be. When Denise said it was pretty twisted, Parker snorted, but she pulled the worn shirt closer around her.]

Ya fucking think? Jarod left it for me at the cemetery after my fucking fiancée was murdered by the Centre, and then they killed three innocent people to fucking cover it up.

[WELL THAT WAS UNCOMFORTABLE. Feelings: something Denise has no idea how to deal with.]

Well, sorry your fiance got whacked. By your employers, even. That's gotta be the worst.

[She sort of...claps Parker on the shoulder and keeps her hand there for a moment before the vulnerability radiating from that action forces her to pull back.]

[Parker glared at her warden and the hand that she had placed upon her shoulder. She didn't even comment on it for a moment before she remarked snidely.] Employers... brother and fucking stepmother, it's all the god damn same difference.

[Well FUCK YOU, Parker, Denise was actually TRYING to show sympathy! She still failed it, though.]

Did ya kill 'em?

No. [Her tone was poisonous, venom as she stared at the picture. If she closed her eyes she could hear herself talking to Jarod as she knelt in front of the stone in the cemetery. 'I'm going to grieve and then I'm going to let them think I've forgotten all about it, and then I am going to make them pay.' She couldn't make them pay here.]

One of them was going to shoot my fucking father, Raines that son of a bitch... I took the bullet instead.

That's pretty heroic, y'know.

[She glanced at Parker's fist.]

Wanna tell me what you're clenching in your hand there?

I wish I could say he'd do the fucking same for me.

[Parker looked down at her hand and the note that she was holding onto. She didn't even realize that she had been doing it, and dropped quickly onto the ground. The note was the one Paddy had slipped under her door before he had fucked off.]

[Denise picked up the note and scanned it just enough to get that it was a farewell from Paddy.]

Damn. Yeah, I heard his announcement. I'm sorry your best friend left or whatever left right around the same time as your other shit, that's rough.

[She decided to try cheering her up.]

Your other friend's still here, right? Malcolm? He's a tolerable guy. You're not totally alone or anything.

Everyone on this fucking barge fucking leaves, okay. I just wish you would fucking get it fucking over with and go. [Parker actually did reach out and touch the heart in the portrait.]

I've been fucking alone since I was ten alright? Especially fucking now. No get the fuck out of here before I fucking do something incredibly fucking stupid, all right?

Hey. I'm not pussying out, alright? If I take a job that means I'm gonna see it through. I didn't quit being a doctor just because I can't stand people, and I'm not gonna back out of this for whatever stupid reason either. Seriously.

[That doesn't preclude slacking off or shirking parts of her duty onto others, however. Still, she's about to say something that means she probably is more invested in Parker than she'll admit to even herself.]

I'm not leaving unless you would seriously rather be alone.

[Parker got up and started to pace, her bare feet clamping against the rug. The shirt was too loose on her, well worn and she kept touching it and stroking it quickly. When I die I'll leave you all my shirts. She swallowed, and kept pacing. It had been six months since she had quit smoking, but all she wanted now was fucking cigarette. She threw open a drawer and shuffled through it, but apparently her room had been updated during her stay.]

I was fucking leaving. Leaving the Centre, leaving the fucking hunt... just leaving. I was going to go to Portland and actually build something or do something. My Daddy came over and told me they'd let me go and the next day they shot Tommy with my gun on my porch.

[Denise has NO IDEA what to say, so she decides to tell Parker something her father, in a rare moment of emotional openness, had told her about her mother--who had died in childbirth with Denise.]

It's not your fault he died, y'know.

Yeah, yeah it fucking is. I knew, I fucking knew that I should have left him alone. But there he was, suddenly in my path and all smiles and didn't even blink when I was a bitch to him... [Parker was tearing up now, and she turned away. She thought she was fucking done with the grieving, done with everything but the vengeance. And no, no she was fucking back here.]

He would have lived a better life if he hadn't stopped me at the fucking gas station.

No, not even. Did you pull the trigger? Did you even give the order for him to be killed? It was your fucking family, not you. You didn't look at him at the gas station and decide "hey, I think I'm gonna fall in love with this guy just so he can die." What those fuckers did wasn't up to you.

You don't understand. [Parker paced quickly, her hands going to the back of her hips as she did so, each step as sharp as if she was wearing her normal stilettos and suits rather than a faded shirt and bare feet.]

You have a fucking normal life, your life wasn't fucking mine, I knew, I knew... Do you know what my fucking brother said to me when he picked me up from the station where I faced fucking fourteen hours of questioning for killing Tommy? He said "you shouldn't have involved local authorities, I thought you knew better." I fucking did.

Someone set me up. Someone shot him and they set me up...

[She dropped unexpectedly, slumping along the wall.] I just wanted something that didn't have anything to do with the Centre.

Christ, Parker.

[Denise had watched her pacing, but when she slumped down she'd gone to her inmate and sat next to her. Now, without really thinking it over, she hooked an arm out around Parker's shoulders and held her like that.]

Okay, so maybe you let yourself be stupid about it. So what? Seriously, anyone with your job would be looking for some kind of escape, and if you had to fool yourself into thinking it would work, that's not a crime. From what I hear, love makes people retarded. Still doesn't mean you wanted him killed.

Missing pieces. Missing fucking pieces. That's what Jarod kept telling me. I stop hunting him for one day and he finds me in a fucking bar. I go looking, and I get three more fucking people killed. A junkie the Centre framed, the good cop who didn't think it added up and the person they paid to call the cops.

Love makes you fucking retarded. I like it. [Parker just leaned backwards slightly into the hood.] Why the fuck did I come here? Why the fuck did I come back here? I was there for a fucking year and then I came back.

I'm guessing you're back here 'cause you got shot.

[Leave it to Denise to bring an existential conversation to a practical, crashing halt.]

What you wanna do now that you're here again is the big thing.

I died to fucking save someone else, what the fuck else do I need to do to be fucking redeemed? You're the one who's supposed to fucking have the answers here.

[Parker really really wanted a smoke now, a smoke or a scotch and her fingers were twitching and she just really didn't want to believe that she was fucking back here.]

Yeah? Nobody gave me a 12-step chart with directions on how to fix your broken ass, so shut it already and deal with the fact that this is a cooperative thing.

[Her tone was kind of sarcastic and friendly--not what the words she spoke would suggest.]

[Parker didn't say anything for a moment, instead just pressing her hand quickly to her forehead. This just wasn't fucking fair. After Tommy, after everything she still ended up fucking back here.]

Cooperative thing when no one fucking knows what the fuck we're meant to do?

Apparently. Can't be impossible, though--there've been way too many graduations this month for that.

I'm never graduating. I told you that. [Parker spoke between grit teeth, but now she wasn't so sure. What if she could go back and make things right with Tommy? Go back and just leave the Centre. Her father had protected her, he had tried to protect the kids... maybe just maybe... he would help her, help her hide and help her get out...

But then she remembered project Gemini and the Jarod clone and it was like she had been kicked in the stomach. Didn't he have his fucking heir already? Why did he still fucking need her? Parker rubbed at her shoulder, above where she had been shot in the back after throwing herself in front of him to try and protect him.] I don't want this place anymore.

Theeeere ya go. First step is wanting the hell off, as far as I'm concerned. Let's work with that and figure out the rest of this shit as we go.

44.-Accident voice post.

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