I own nothing

I'm actually a big fanfic fish to some people, but sadly this is not my pond. I've never written Pretender fic before so this is a departure from the norm for me. Wish me luck.

Note: this is actually a challenge response: What would happen to Parker if Jarod stopped playing the game.


Ms. Parker sat with a good scotch in her hand on her front porch and sorted through her mail the same way a papered Siamese cat picks through its food, only a truly worthy letter was deemed good enough for her to open.

Today the selection seemed to be especially thin.

Bill, junk, bill, coupons, more junk, catalog, postcard, bill, Time magazin-

She stopped shifting when she realized the error in that list. A postcard. Parker hated post cards. Everyone knew that.

Everyone, that is, except him. HE didn't know.

She quickly threw all her other mail aside and let it land with a loud thwap on the porch floor. She turned the tacky postcard over in her hands and ignored the stupid Delaware Is For Lovers slogan on the picture side. It had been a few months since she had heard from Jarod and there was some concern at the Centre that he might have died or gotten seriously hurt during a pretend. If this was from him, Parker could have Broots track down the point of origin and.

Her mouth dropped open when she started reading the words on the letter.

*Dear Parker,

You tell me that we are playing a game. Well if that's true, I concede. I don't want to play anymore. Its just gotten too hard to keep yearning for a normal life and being on the run at the same time. I still want to find my mother and I'll never stop looking for her, but I know deep down she would want me to be happy. I don't want to run anymore and I don't want you to catch me. I'm too tired to play. So I'm leaving, Parker. I'm going to disappear. Maybe meet someone and start a family of my own. I telling you this because I hope you'll do the same. Just try to be happy. Love, Jarod

PS At the bottom is a number for a great clinic in your area that helps people quit smoking; I think you should try it. It would be good for your ulcer. *

Somewhere else in the world, children were playing and birds were chirping. There was an entire symphony out there of joyous sounds being made by happy people. But in the Blue Cove area of Delaware there was only one sound. It was a pathetic heart breaking sound that would make you sick to your stomach if you heard it. It was the kind of heart wrenching noise that would make you shake your head and mutter 'Poor dear.'

It was the sound of Ms. Parker hyperventilating in fear and panic.

As her breath came it short, unhealthy gasps, Ms Parker felt a pain in her stomach shoot up the left side of her body and reach her head. It was as though her ulcer had spawned a child and sent it too live in her brain. It was so painful that she started to see stars and feel woozy.

Just before slumping to her knees and after she began to pass out, Parker made a silent plea to what ever deity was listening.

I can't get sick She thought.

I have to stay healthy so I can kill that SONUVA BITCH!!!!