By Blademistress

Thanks to Stickmarionette for beta'ing this for me, thanks to Cassy for reading it over and thanks to Jersey for nitpicking and showing me some logic. And a special thanks to those who reviewed on the pretendfic board.

Warning: Contains slash and disturbing content, only in mild doses but consider yourself warned.

His brothers murderer, his sisters would-be killer; he’s orchestrated the deaths of hundreds of people. He’s killed and consumed more innocents than Jarod cares to count. He kidnapped Zoë and would have killed her without a seconds, thought and he’d rape and kill Miss Parker if he could get the chance.

All of which Miss Parker reminded him of, first with awe, then anger.

So why did you do it? she asked, betrayal and confusion in her voice and eyes.

Why?

She asked him again, and again, and again. She asked it with tears in her eyes and he always hated to see her cry.

He didn’t have an answer, not one she could understand.

After he’d thought they were bonded, fated and destined. She didn’t understand - not enough.

He asked her what would she do to get rid of The Centre. How far would she go?

All the way.

He shook his head. She’d made enough deals with devils and there’d been no more contracts to sign.

Except one.

He’d offered him power, opportunity and a kind of freedom.

Only Jarod’s pride and his holier-than-thou knowledge, (not attitude, oh no not attitude, that implied he might be wrong) had kept him from accepting.

That was it; he was Kyle’s brother after all. Raised in Hell with nicer furniture.

Damnation.

“No child should have to go through what I went through,” he’d said. “No child.”

Now no child ever would.

If it had been about killing everyone in the Tower, Jarod wouldn’t have needed help; if it had been about taking away their finances then he wouldn’t have given the offer a second thought.

It wasn’t it though, cut the head of the hydra and another two grow back. Give all the money to World Vision and they just dig up more, their reach so long it holds the world. It would take a lifetime to destroy The Centre, to pull up all the roots and salt the earth where it once stood.

Jarod didn’t have that much time.

The government didn’t want to know and the government owned the media. Everywhere he went someone was profiting from The Centre, and everywhere he looked someone was suffering for it.

It had to stop.

Now.

“Why is this so important to you? This isn’t just about what they’ve done to your family.”

Lyle was smarter than most people gave him credit.

“This is about what they did to me,” Jarod answered, and Lyle smiled.

So once again Jarod found himself playing God, but then, he always had really.

Like Kyle decided who lived and died.

Not a similarity Jarod enjoyed, and one that Lyle made most often.

“What do I get if I do this for you?”

Questions. Always questions.

Today he had answers.

“Me.”

Lyle’s smile was nothing like Miss Parker’s.

It was worse.

She followed him; he hadn’t really expected anything else.

We could have done it without him, she said.

Lies, half-truths; she didn’t recognise them anymore.

They couldn’t have done it without him, not in a lifetime, not in two lifetimes.

It had taken two lifetimes already.

He wasn’t going to risk a third.

Lyle wore the things that defined him, a tattoo of a snake eating itself, that he made sure the girls saw before they die. An Armani suit all edges and power, expensive watches and cufflinks.

He wore Jarod, had him at his side constantly and had him fetch and do things for him. It was all about domination.

Lyle had no distinction between human and animal, they were the same to him.

Expendable.

“What do you want,” Jarod asked him once, and only once.

“Everything, and that’s exactly what you’re going to get me.”

“So why help me?”

“Because I need to help you to help myself.”

He was The Centre’s weakness, not quite their Achilles’ heel, but close. He wanted power even The Centre couldn’t offer.

He knew secrets and he told them.

Locations, places, names.

Everything that Jarod would have taken a lifetime to get.

All it cost was his life.

“What is this worth to you?” Lyle demanded.

“Everything,” Jarod replied as he got on his knees.

He tried to kill you, she yelled.

“And now he can’t try anymore,” he answered.

A series of well-placed explosives, a few account numbers and 32 bullets; Lyle did it all.

“No blood on my Wonder Boy’s hands,” he said.

He touched Jarod with bloodstained hands, leaving red trails in their wake, even though Lyle couldn’t see it, Jarod could and crimson red adorned his body.

“Some lifetime,” Lyle hissed, tracing his finger over Jarod’s lips.

“It’s over,” Jarod repeated.

Lyle nodded.

It didn’t feel like anything he’d expected.

It didn’t feel like anything at all.

“It’s a new beginning,” Lyle said, his lips going down Jarod’s jaw. “With you on my side anything is possible.”

Jarod nodded, his leather jacket slipping off his shoulders and stopping at the handcuffs.

He was free.

Almost, not quite.

A small paperclip, one that held the pictures Lyle showed him, wrapped around his finger.

“What’s this,” Lyle purred, “pleased to see me?”

Jarod smiled, the smile Lyle wore while Jarod had squirmed under his touch. There was no emotion in it. “No. It’s a gun,” he said simply.

Lyle’s eyes widened in interest and held no fear. This was Jarod, who made a promise; who had ethics.

Who was handcuffed to the bed.

“To kill a monster, sometimes you have to become a monster.”

Jarod squeezed the trigger of Miss Parker’s gun. Lyle’s fingers squeezed Jarod’s throat in desperation – too late.

Jarod covered the mess with his leather jacket.

You killed him.

Stupid thing to say, his blood was all over him, so much blood over him. He wondered if she could see it.

He found he didn’t care.

“It’s over.”

You sold your soul.

“I did what I needed to do.”

What are you going to tell your family?

What would he tell his family? Would he tell them about Lyle, what he did and what he agreed to?

Would he tell them the lengths he went to, the things he did?

The things he’d never forgive himself for.

What are you going to tell your family?

“They’re free.”

Finish.

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