i_run_you_chase | for you_run_i_chase: Dream a Little Dream of Me

for you_run_i_chase: Dream a Little Dream of Me

Jarod's mind doesn't work like most people's. When he dreams, it is in sharp, reoccuring memories, occasionally spliced with other memories. He doesn't dream. He remembers, painfully. He is used to waking up with his head pounding and the memories coursing through him like a simulation gone wrong.

And eyes. He dreams of the eyes of the people he was responsible for killing. He believes that's just part of the simulation, too.

Tonight, he dreams. He opens his eyes and sees the Barge, empty and open as though it were nighttime and everyone was asleep. He sees a light on at the end of a darkened hallway. He sees it as though it were yesterday.

But it's not like any memory. It's different. He steps towards the light. Footsteps ring out somewhere around him.

"Who's there?" he calls.

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Although Miss Parker was frequently frustrating, filled with self-loathing that made her vicious and cruel, and often smelled of menthol cigarettes, Jarod had to admit she was beautiful. Even that first time he met her, when he put his hand out to the glass to touch her, he thought she was beautiful.

So much had happened between them, and right now, touching the side of her hair and letting his thumb brush her cheek, he felt like that boy holding his hand out to the glass and staring at an incredibly beautiful girl in front of him.

Hell, if he was dreaming, he might as well make the most of it.

"You know," he said. "Boys mature faster than girls."

He leaned his face down and pressed a kiss to her mouth.

If it had been anyone else other than Jarod, Parker would have done what Parker always did. She would have played a sharp jab, pressed against a raw emotional nerve while she leaned forward and kissed him. But it wasn't anyone else this was Jarod and while there were loads about her feelings for him that she'd managed to sort out, there was still lots of them, and deciding to kiss him had been one of those things that she was still trying to get.

But then he mirrored her line back to her, and she was amused, she was amused because she was able to remember on some days that she was still the girl who had given him his first kiss, and who had been his best friend and who had very nearly had sex with him more than a few times aboard the Barge before.

Damn, her mind was being a bitch now and having him kiss her. He tasted like she remembered: like doughnut ice cream and candy and innocence and a home she'd lost to a bullet in an elevator. Quickly, she pressed her hand to the back of his neck holding him in the kiss as she pressed herself to him, wanting to feel that he was there with more than just fingers.

Sometimes, laying in hotel rooms or talking to her on the phone during her deepest sleep cycle, he'd think about how she tasted when he kissed her. Like bitter cigarettes and a sweet sort of something that he couldn't properly identify. If he wasn't so emotionally wrapped up in this ridiculous dream he was having, he might spend hours kissing her with the sole intent to figure out what that sweetness was.

He felt her hand to the back of his neck, and he slipped a hand around her waist, pulling her closer. This was the Miss Parker he didn't have where he was, now. This was the sort of moment they had here, on the Barge, not back home.

Even though he valued his freedom above almost all else, he had to admit that this was something he missed. He missed the Barge because he missed her, the way she'd become.

For Parker, this sort of thing was the promise at the end of a very long rainbow. It was the promise that after she'd graduate her inmate she'd have this. She'd get her chance to punch the Admiral, Thomas Gates would be alive with his nice girl and Parker would take off in a sports car and find him and they'd get started on what the two of them should have been doing for the last four years.

Too bad she needed to die (twice) before she could have figured out that he was what she wanted. That this was what she wanted.

Later, she'd pretend she had a Sydney here and she'd analyze the dream, and Parker would decide it happened because she needed something to keep her going when she wanted to get the hell out of Dodge. But for now she just kept kissing him, her arms coming up to wrap around his neck.

It wasn't fair. Here, she seemed to understand that they needed each other. There, she needed her father's approval. He could sometimes simulate Miss Parker's thoughts, but often he was left confused.

He logically knew that it was only his psyche telling him what he wanted, but he thought he could tell that she wanted this, too.

He broke the kiss, but didn't pull away from her.

"I wish you'd remember when I wake up." His voice was quiet, a little raw. He was never this sort of vulnerable around Miss Parker.

Damn. Why did this need to feel so real now. Why it need to feel not dream-like at all. Parker's brain was offering all sorts of other explanations for this: (flood, coma losing her mind) anything but the fact that this was a dream she'd eventually need to wake up from.

Her fingers moved to his face when he broke the kiss and when he spoke in that raw tone, she didn't know what the hell was... Yeah, that didn't seem like something she'd have him say in her dreams.

"Damn." She breathed the word, just looking into his eyes for a moment. "I'm coming." Parker said quickly. "I'm going to be there as soon as I'm done here."

He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to hers, and trying with everything in him to remind himself that this wasn't real. She was only saying that because he wanted her to say that. She was only here because he was missing her and his mind was basically dumping that information to his subconscious. Nevermind that it hadn't happened before. It was real now.

"I didn't mean to leave," he said, as if that could somehow make it better. It couldn't, and he knew it. He could no more apologize to Miss Parker than he could apologize to the victims of the Centre.

"I'm sorry, Miss Parker."

Parker had struggled a lot with the fact that he'd left. For a long time, she'd settled into the bitter 'he couldn't handle whatever the fuck was happening between us and ran like he always did' or 'he just couldn't handle the barge' or if she was feeling masochistic 'he couldn't handle the fact that I had Paddy.' Eventually however she just accepted that she'd see him when she was done here, because despite however much she'd wanted to believe in them being separate and their lives having different paths, they were far too knotted up for that.

Her mouth opened to make the jab before she could help herself. "You never do, do you?" Maybe Parker was still a little bitter. Despite saying that, she didn't pull her forehead away from him, or step away from his embrace.

"Shit, I wish you'd come back."

"If I knew how----"

If he knew how, he'd pull her out of the Barge and take her with him. Get her away from all of it, show her the world she was missing while she lived in the Centre. She'd traveled everywhere he did, but she missed so much. He could show her, he could give that to her.

But out there, she didn't have what she had in the Barge.

"I can meet you here," he said. Which was, of course, ridiculous to say. 'Here' was in his dream, and there was no way she could acquire any sort of closure from within his fantasy.

"You'd what? Pull me the hell out of here?" Parker scoffed at that and she added after a second, "I can't leave til after I graduate an inmate. Tommy deserves that." He deserved better than her and a Centre bullet, and it was that thought that kept her here, even when her inmate reminded her of Raines and made her flesh crawl.

"Meet me here?" Parker scoffed again, and she just touched his chest, keeping her head against it, feeling his pulse and how it thrummed. "So what we're going to have a standard date where we just meet in my dreams like god damn pop song? Even dreams don't work like that, Lab-rat." You didn't get to pick your dreams; if you did she'd have much different ones.

Thomas. Right. Of course. Jarod couldn't deny her that love, even when he envied it. She went through so much to get him back, it was worth it to go a little farther. And Jarod could figure out where to put the two of them so they'd be safe. Safe and happy together.

"I don't know how long you'll be," he said. "But I'd like to see you again. Without you pointing a gun at me."

When he woke up, she'd have the gun and the need to catch him again. When she came back from the Barge, she'd have Thomas. There was no real winning for Jarod in this situation.

Parker didn't want Thomas for herself. She just wanted him to be alive and to have a chance for Portland and the life that he would have had with someone if he hadn't gotten mixed up in the insanity of her life. And if Thomas lived then the four people whom she'd inadvertently killed during the course of her investigation.

The only person Parker wanted, and the only person she could see herself with off the Barge and long term was the man whom she was standing in front of at this very moment. Well, if this was real and not her own fucked up little version of a sex dream.

"It's probably going to be a long time," she admitted with a scoff. "God damn, there are days when I wish I didn't think he deserved better than me and the life I got him, and I wish I could just fucking leave and go find you and make everyone else pay." Honesty, because in dreams you could be honest without worrying about it coming back to bite you in your ass.

Edited 2011-07-10 02:04 (UTC)

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for you_run_i_chase: Dream a Little Dream of Me

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