Disclaimer: I don't own "The Pretender" or any of its
characters. Thanx for not suing! ~Oriana

~~~~~~~~~

She sat at her expensive mahogany desk, shuffling through a pile of paperwork, when the phone call came. Her cell phone rang--she picked it up, and answered, "Yes?"

"Miss Parker, it's time."

"I'm on my way."

~~~~~~~~~

It was incredible how much larger their medical area was now. And far more comfortable. As she walked down the hallway at a fast pace, her clicking heels echoing, she nodded at the various nurses and doctors she passed. She turned a corner, another, then stopped.

In front of her, through the open metal door, was a large room. Windows offered a view of the water, the orchard, and children playing tag on a sidewalk. Far to the right, out of view, a heart monitor beeped; her own heart skipped a beat at the sound of it.

After more than a few deep breaths, Parker straightened her shoulders and walked in.

The bed was large, even for their medical facility. Though it had been meant as a luxury of kindness at the time, Parker now regretted the decision, as it made the figure occupying it seem even more wane and sickly.

"Angel?" One word, no more than a hoarse whisper, but it brought back a time and life she'd worked hard to erase.

She walked to his side, took his hand. "Yes, it's me."

"I was... worried... wouldn't make it."

"I'm here."

He nodded weakly, closed his eyes. "Good... good."

She winced inwardly as his breathing grew coarse. Reaching over to a machine linked up to his arm by a thin tube, she pressed a button; a small amount of a dark blue chemical enter his veins, and within moments he was visibly better; he resembled her father once again. Almost.

Opening his eyes, he looked up at her, and smiled. "I'm glad you came."

"You asked me to." Her voice remained completely neutral.

"Where's my son?"

"Lyle isn't coming."

"What? Why not?"

She sighed impatiently. "He's in prison, you know that."

"This is important," he growled, and for a moment the old Mr. Parker shined through. "You could have done something."

"What?" she snapped back. "Bribery? Death threats? This is CP Industries now, not the Centre. We exist to promote life, not fear."

He calmed. "You're right. I'm sorry."

"Yeah, right," she muttered to herself.

"Angel, please, don't--"

"Why did you ask me here? I bring you back, give you the best medical treatment available--isn't that enough?"

"You're my daughter."

"Not anymore. That ended the day I brought you and the Triumvirate down to your knees. You do remember, don't you? Just three of us, up against all of your resources, just me, Jarod, and my nephew--"

"Don't you dare! Don't you dare say that brat's name!"

"Oh, what's the matter?" she asked in mock concern. "Brigitte's betrayal with Lyle still hurt? I should think you would've gotten over that by now."

"He didn't know that the child was his!"

"Oh, please! You've taken his side every time since!" She stomped around to the window, calmed herself by watching the children play. "Fine--I suppose there's no point in trying to change your mind. All the same, you'd best remember that the brat you refer to was the one person able to convince me to allow you back here for treatment. If it weren't for him, you'd be dead by now."

"I'll never be grateful to that bastard child. He is not a Parker."

"Thank god," a man commented dryly, leaning against the doorframe. He didn't look at the patient, but kept his eyes on Miss Parker. He smiled, and held up a file. "You were looking for this?"

She smiled back, and walked across the room to him. "Yeah, thanks. I want to check the stats."

"Why bother?" he murmured confidentially. "Doesn't matter how well the meds affect his chemical levels--it'll buy him another 20 minutes, tops. He'll be dead within the hour."

"I know," she nodded. "But if I was going to let him back here, I had to at least try."

"I understand."

She grinned lovingly. "Of course you do. You're my nephew, after all--you always know what I'm thinking. Anyhow, thanks for the file." She glanced back reluctantly. "I should probably get back to the death watch."

"You want me to stay with you?"

"Nah, one of us suffering is enough. But thanks just the same."

He nodded, and slipped out into the hall. Parker sighed, then turned and walked back to the bedside, flipping through the print-outs in the folder. They said pretty much what she'd expected; tossing the file to the floor, she sat down.

It had been a while since either had spoken, when Mr. Parker took hold of her hands in an abrupt movement. She snapped out of her reverie, and looked at him in surprise. "I, I think it's almost time."

She nodded knowingly. "The new meds didn't work. Your body's too tired to try anything else, so... you're right. Your time's almost up."

His eyes slid shut. "I can feel it. Everything's slowing down."

"Are you in pain?"

"No." He gave a weary smile. "I don't have enough energy left for pain."

"I offered to just let you go to sleep," she pointed out quietly.

"I know, I know... but it wouldn't have been right. Not the way I wanted it..." His eyes slowly opened, and concentrated on her. "When I die, I want my Angel to be the last thing I see."

Before she could stop herself, she said in a pained whisper, "Please don't call me that anymore."

He studied her sadly. "You still blame me for your mother."

She briefly considered denying it, but then thought, screw it. "Yes," she said in a more neutral tone, "I do. And for everything else." She shook her head, and stared at him in disbelief. "You still don't realize how many lives you've destroyed, do you?"

"Angel--"

"I told you not to call me that!"

"Don't do this, not now. The end is coming--"

"No," she replied sharply. "Not the end, your end. The rest of us will still go on without you. You aren't as vital to this world as you used to be. I will go on, Lyle will go on, Jarod will go on, my nephew -your grandson- will go on. Catherine Parker Industries will go on, not that monstrous legacy that used to be known as the Centre. To everyone in this world who matters, you're already nothing more than a faint memory, at best."

"You don't mean that."

"You really don't get it, do you? You mean nothing to me, you are nothing to me anymore. I'm not here because I want to be, I'm not here because I care. I'm here to grant a dying man's last wish. Soon, you'll be gone--and I'm gonna walk out that door, go home, and never think of you again."

Cold silence. Once in a while, the laughter of the children outside would seep through the windows. Parker concentrated on that, and smiled, but her attention was suddenly drawn by another sound in the room. The heart monitor next to her continued to beep, but the rhythm was more sparse. She looked at her father; he was still staring at her, as if trying to memorize every detail. His chest was rising and falling slower than earlier.

"It's time," he whispered, almost as an exhale.

She could only nod.

"I asked you here... because I know that I've... made mistakes. My life... hasn't always been something... to be proud of... But you were... always my... greatest... accomplishment."

Her head shook slowly. "Why are you saying this?"

"I wanted... you here to... ask... your forgiveness."

She recoiled as if he thrown a cobra in her face. She stared, disbelieving, and gave a dry chuckle. "You can't be serious."

"Please... Forgive me."

She sprang up, the chair toppling over. "Wh-what is this, a test of some sort?"

"No test... Just..."

"Just what?" she demanded, pacing angrily back and forth in front of him. "God, I don't believe this!"

"Please."

"No! How can you ask this of me? You're not sorry, you can't be sorry and still ask that!"

"Listen to me--"

"I don't have to listen to you! In case you've forgotten, you're here only because I'm allowing it. Do you have any idea how it felt to let you back? And now, you have the gall to ask me for forgiveness." Trembling with anger and shock, she set the chair back upright, and sat down on the edge of the seat.

He looked at her with pained eyes. "Please..."

No reply. Parker looked away, one hand covered her mouth. The pauses between heartbeats increased.

"Forgive me..."

Silence.

"Angel... Please."

Still, silence. Slowly, reluctantly, she turned her sight back to him. At the moment when her eyes met his, one last ragged breath left his body.

A shrill noise cut into the silence, as the monitor flatlined.

Mechanical motions took control. She reached over, and unplugged the monitor.

One hand, with a square silver ring on the index finger, rested momentarily on his forehead. "It's over," she whispered to him, then slid her hand down, closing his eyelids. She stood, covered his face with the sheet, then turned and walked to the door.

Her hand was on the doorknob, ready to close the door, when something stopped her. She stared at the floor, then turned her head to look back. "I'm sorry."

The door clicked shut.

~~~~~~~~~

Walking back down the halls, Parker nodded and smiled at passing patients and employees. Turning a corner, she passed a boy of about eight in a wheelchair, enjoying an icecream cone while a nurse steered him to his room. Parker marveled at how well he looked, after only three days of treatment.

"Thanks to our research," she murmured to herself proudly, waiting for the elevator. "Thanks to the programs Jarod wrote--all the studies, all the benefits, without a single live test subject."

~~~~~~~~~

Opening the door to her office, Parker smiled at her nephew, standing next to her desk reading some files.

"Hey, you."

"Hey yourself," he grinned, setting the files down. "The last of the paperwork for the day."

"I'll sign them tonight before I leave."

"How are you?"

"Fine, actually."

"One of the nurses told me she heard some yelling."

"Yeah, well, you know our family--nothing's complete without a big theatrical number." She walked over to him, and turned her attention to the files. "Final permission for those charity donations?"

"Yep, Jarod faxed them over a couple of hours ago. Our accounting people took a look, gave the okay, so I signed them and brought 'em over."

"Good. So I take it his inspection of the children's centers in New York went well?"

"Yeah, with this money they should have all the facilities they need, and then some."

"Great." She grabbed a pen, went through and signed on all the appropriate lines, then closed the file and handed it back to him. "So, you coming over for dinner tonight?"

"Depends--you cooking?"

"Very funny. I love you too much to poison you. I was thinking we'd order Thai."

"Throw in a pepperoni pizza," came a light-hearted voice behind them, "and we can make it a party of three."

Parker spun around, and her face brightened as she ran over and threw her arms around the man standing inside the doorway. "Jarod!"

"Nice to know you missed me," he laughed, hugging her back.

She took a step back, and gave him a playful punch to the arm. "You sneak, you said you'd be gone for another two days."

"Em and mom left early for their scouting trip in Australia."

"Still haven't found the perfect spot for the ceremony?"

"No, although they have got about 20 new places in mind. Anyhow, Andrew's case finished up sooner than expected, so they thought they'd take advantage of a man's point of view."

"Do I sense a hint of sarcasm?" Parker's nephew piped up from behind them.

"Who, me?" he asked innocently.

"Oh, please," she laughed. "Everyone knows you don't like Andrew."

"He's Australian. He's a lawyer."

"Neither of which is a bad thing. He's intelligent, has an accent, and might I add, handsome. Your sister's an amazing catch, and you know he'll take great care of her."

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered, grinning.

Parker turned to her nephew. "So, three for dinner sound okay to you?"

"Sure." He walked past them to the door. "I'll bring dessert."

"See you at seven?"

"Sounds great. See you then." He walked out.

Parker pulled Jarod over to her desk. They both sat down across from each other; she reclined in her leather chair, and propped her feet up. "Jarod's not out for spring break yet, is he?"

"Nope, he's got another week at Oxford. He's catching a plane back next Tuesday."

"Well, with your mom gone too, that leaves your dad on his own. Why not invite him to dinner?"

"Sure, he'd like that." At the mention of fathers, Jarod's thoughts turned to Mr. Parker. He leaned closer, resting his elbows on the desk. "Listen, I heard about your dad on my way in... I'm sorry."

"Don't be," she shrugged. "I'm not."

He nodded. "Want to talk about it?"

"Not really. It's over, that's all that matters."

"You're right." He leaned back in his own chair. "And on the topic of depressing matters that are finally over, I signed the papers while I was in New York."

Parker gave a sympathetic smile. "So the divorce is final?"

"Yep."

"How'd Chloe take it?"

"Fine, I'm sure. I never actually saw her, but it's probably best. Ever since the judge gave me custody, she's turned every meeting into a civil war, but what could I do? When we separated and she went to New York, the kids hated it there, just like they were miserable in DC--"

"As was I, only getting to see you through video conference."

"Definitely the crappiest year of our married life," Jarod admitted. "If it weren't for that damned promotion, we could've stayed in Dover. It wasn't too big for the twins, I was close to here, and she could commute to DC for the big meetings."

"Speaking of the boys," she smiled, "I saw them playing in the orchard."

He laughed. "I wanted to get some work done, though god knows we need to unpack. And the twins were pretty insistent on coming up. They really do love it here."

"Funny, isn't it? We grew up hating this place. The boys see it as home."

"It's not the place, it's the people inside."

"True."

Silence settled over them. Finally, Jarod stood up reluctantly. "I should probably go. The boys have undoubtedly found another mud hole." They laughed. "Besides, we really need to get settled in."

Parker stood and followed him to the door. She placed a hand on his arm to stop him from leaving, and said in a low earnest voice, "Jarod, I'm sorry about Chloe. I know it hasn't been easy."

"Thank you, but really, it's okay. To be honest, we both saw it coming for awhile. Some things just aren't meant to be."

"So how do you know when things are meant to be?" she asked softly.

"I'm not sure. I think, maybe... you just know."

She gave a little breathy laugh, and hugged him tight. They embraced momentarily; she softly kissed his cheek, then hugged tighter.

"How'd you know that's exactly what I needed?"

She smiled. "I just knew."

~~~~~~~~~

She'd said she'd never think of him again. She'd sworn to herself that she wouldn't cry.

She'd lied.

Parker had ordered the pizza and Thai food nearly 15 minutes ago, but the cordless phone remained in her lap. She stared into the fireplace, while her thoughts unwillingly drifted to earlier that day. The flickering flames reflected watery eyes.

"Parker?" She jumped at the hushed voice, and hastily wiped her eyes. Next to her stood Major Charles, studying her with concerned eyes. "I heard crying, and the door was unlocked, so..."

"Oh, that's fine," she assured him with a fake smile. "I'm glad you're here. The, um, food should be delivered soon."

"I'm not hungry."

She looked down at her hands uneasily. "Yeah, me neither."

"I heard about your father."

"Who hasn't?" she smiled weakly, sitting back down in the chair. "When a man like Mr. Parker dies, everyone's got the streamers and balloons ready to go."

Major Charles raised an eyebrow at the use of his name. Miss Parker was not fond of her father, and rarely spoke of him. At this point, anyone besides the gossips who spoke of Mr. Parker, were talking about her nephew. "I'm sure he'll be missed."

A bitter laugh escape her throat. "Yeah, right. It's probably like New Year's over in his hospital room right now."

"You don't seem upset."

"Did you really expect me to be?"

"No," he replied carefully, "I suppose not. I know that you two were never close--"

"He sucked as a father," she replied curtly. "End of story."

"Perhaps, but he was still your father. I know you, Miss Parker, I know the way you feel things."

"Yes, you do, don't you? More than he ever did, that's for damn sure." Her eyes slowly panned back to the fireplace. "Despite how hard I tried all those years to make him care... You must realize, Major, that you're more of a father to me than he ever was."

"Miss Parker--"

"It's true. You at least try to understand me, you have an appreciation for who I am, you're never afraid to show how you feel. And you'd never put me into an unfair position."

"Did he do something during your visit?"

"Only ask my forgiveness."

Silence. "Did you... give it?"

Her eyes shot back to him, and she replied urgently, "Do you think I should have?"

"It's not for me to say."

"If you don't know, who should?"

"How about yourself?"

She laughed sadly. "Me? In case you haven't noticed, I'm an emotional amoeba."

"That's not true. I've seen how you are with the patients, with Jarod and the twins. You have an incredible heart, Miss Parker."

"Then why couldn't I forgive him?" she demanded sharply.

"You tell me."

"Because I hate him!" she shouted before she even thought about it. Her words sinking in, Parker stared into the fireplace. "I hate him," she repeated in a pained whisper. "All these years since the Triumvirate fell, I haven't felt a thing. Now, he dies and he still manages to have this power over me."

"...I don't think it's him."

"What do you mean?"

"I think you're afraid to let go."

"You're right. I am, but... I don't know what to do."

"You have to let your ghosts go."

"I can't--"

"You must," he insisted firmly. "You have to, or you'll never be free. Your father and the rest, they'll win."

Her eyes sought his. "I, I told him that I would never think of him again."

"Then don't."

"It's not that simple."

"No, but pretending it is, might make things easier."

She looked at him in puzzlement, the idea he proposed completely foreign. "Just... forget. Just stop, and never mention or think of him again."

"Yes."

"And if I'm not strong enough?"

He smiled confidently. "You will be. But if you ever feel that you need help, you have us. All of us. And that is what makes you more powerful, that's why you'll win this thing."

The doorbell rang. They turned their heads towards the sound, and Parker stood as she heard her nephew chatting with Jarod outside the door. Pausing, she turned back. "Charles?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you." She opened the door, and her mother's house was once again filled with the sound of happy voices.

The End!