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Peja's Wonderful World of Makebelieve Import
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2020-11-04
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1/1
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A State of Mind

Summary:

What goes on in the mind of one who time never lets remember the events, just a piece of the trauma seen by someone who will never know. Missing pov from season one's "Doppelganger"

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A STATE OF MIND by Purpleyin
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She lay on the bed as he kissed her.. She had been going to say delicately. But he wasn't, so why? That had been how she'd imagined he'd kiss her, not reality though. It felt so awkward and he seemed not to notice, he didn't look in her eyes once.

That was normal for Parker but it felt like the reason was different. So far she'd come to the conclusion he thought his eyes gave away emotion and his stern glances or cheerful glints were years of well-practiced barriers, never giving a tear away. She complied with this silent demand, not looking to his because she didn't like to see the lack that must be in this version of Frank. Frank?

Somewhere between the beginning and current conversation with herself it had shifted from Parker to Frank. A sure sign she'd been thinking too much. Not analytically but influenced by emotions, the wrong kind of thought, unclear, uncontrolled. Nevertheless there was no worry of losing her composure in his arms, the feeling touched on treacherous. Thoughts came hurried and broken. A mistake, shouldn't be like this. He's not in his own mind, he wouldn't want this.

Neither do I. Everything says it isn't him, every cell in my body repulsed by the change he's undergone. But he's still frank b. parker, just not as lovable and easy going. Aggressive, paranoid, power hungry. All the things he'd never want to be. I think I am losing composure, he still has an effect on me, however small. My conscience tells me this is an enormous fault on my behalf, how will it help us? I understand him more psychologically, and yet he confuses me more emotionally. I wish this were real, instead of a desperate measure to save ourselves and condemn him. They'll never trust him now. After all how can I; I trusted him the most.

A faint knock on the door distracts him for a split second, he shouts out, dismissing them. He's not going to stop. And I know where this is going. He's not going to stop. I have to bite my lip to stop myself from gasping or choking, whichever. It was something that had been clear since I came in here, and even clearer when we moved to the bed and he made that comment, "you didn't come here just to get information out of me did you".

But there had been some underlying premise that it would never get that far, that he would not do that, not now. I couldn't deny it any more, it was especially now. I realised just how big a mistake it was that moment, what I'd done. How could I not have forseen it? After all, Talmadge was sure to have thought of it. The only explanation was denial. I'd let it slip right past, ignorance is bliss. If only.

No one needed to point out the problem with this situation. I'd relied too heavily on the hope that Frank would prevail. Whatever it was that had been going on deep at the back of my mind it wouldn't have surprised me if I'd thought I didn't figure into this. The little display earlier had said the exact opposite.

Her thoughts stop as she realised he had stopped kissing her, his body still poised over hers dominantly but he was paying more attention to the knock at the door which came the second time, louder. And too his voice became more strained, annoyed. She could imagine the levels rising, aggression, anger, all pounding round his head as the blood round his body. Ready to strike.

He got up, and made his way to the door in two strides but he'd only just opened the door and barely got a sentence out before the blow hit him. Leaving no time for the information he'd just taken in to get through. Besides, the last thing he saw was the fist and a hazy image of man behind it

She sprung up from her position on the bed. Seeing Parker? One look down again verified the body on the floor was parker but then so was the person standing in front of her with a trademark look she'd never seen on him before.

But he only looked like Parker; he hadn't been acting like him in the least except for the obvious interest. A spy, a twin he didn't know he had, a clone? The thoughts whirred around her mind, the spiral trailing downwards into nothing, it was mind-boggling. If he was parker, and had parker's barcode, his serial number and knew all about everyone despite his dubious behaviour which to be honest wasn't beyond likelihood, then who was this Parker.

There was relief at him interrupting but which was what and who? Could she trust either? If Parker was the one on the floor then he was still crazy and this was a spy or whatever, if it was the other way around she'd only have this Parker's word for it. She stopped thinking about it. He raced over to the blinds to peek out, he said "Don't worry it's me". In any other situation that would have been a blindingly obvious statement, however... this was a little stranger than most.

"So what the hell's been going on?" was the next thing out of his mouth, he'd asked before I'd even processed all of what had happened. I had no clue what this was, and I despised not knowing things that I should have done. Right now he probably knew more than me, he'd known that decking the guy had been the right choice even if he was a spy. Something told me he wasn't. It might have been that look that passed his face for the second time in the few seconds since his entry to the room or the fact he commented "You weren't getting ready to sleep with this guy, were you?" and his hesitation to believe it when I declared I wasn't. He all but challenged me on that. However much I protested he wasn't going to buy it. And he knew I wouldn't admit it either.

This was the part I started screaming in overwhelming confusion, wasn't it? As he moved closer I smelt an aroma akin to one worn by someone who'd been fishing in the local river, at Marinu Point, the place just after those new pipes were built. The one's that pumped out what might as well be the equivalent of raw sewage. He apologized quickly, squirming himself when he explained exactly why.

My mind began getting cloudy when he started to give details. Modification to the sphere. Two Frank B. Parker's. I clarified it a little for him. The feeling that he would prevail seemed to have been true, I was a scientist and didn't believe in premonition. To me that was just picking up all the signals via your subconscious and the alarm bells ringing. Had they been trying to tell me that there was no way he'd been Frank Parker, not the one I...knew. It hadn't been unfounded in any case. The next bit caught me off-guard, I'd thought he'd dropped it completely but evidently I'd been wrong. It looked as if this was my day for making mistakes, being presumptuous.

"And you were about to go to bed with him?"
There was that look again. A mixture of five emotions I was sure only Parker could achieve and I didn't think it was practised either. Just another one of his amazing talents. The emotions were pretty cohesive; I had trouble trying to identify them. Parker was hard to read at the best of times and this was about the best it was going to get in those terms, the most readable he'd ever been. One was clear though and the other hard to pin down but I think I could tell. Jealousy and hurt. We'd never., I found it hard to phrase. What had happened was still no clearer to me. But hurt was there. That I'd been prepared to, for information. His reasons I didn't know. It could have been that they were the only circumstances I was prepared to do that under, crushed ego perhaps or, that it hadn't been him. Perhaps even worried about what the Nazi version had done to affect his chances with me. It seemed to be leaning more towards how he'd missed the chance but he didn't think of what had brought me to have to do that. If he had been here then that would not have happened. We would have happily gone about business saving the world and playing the verbal tennis we usually did. That game was missing right now. I wasn't up to playing and he knew now wasn't the time, place or appropriate in any way.

As he talked about Starker I could picture him trying to push all his personal thoughts to the back of his head. He was a soldier primarily; he'd be focusing on the plan and nothing else. All I could do was think about it all, plans for these kind of events weren't my forte. He started to talk about ESP; I wondered how it was Parker always got the information. And of course, his wisecracks. Funny thing was I knew it was him. He was the only person he could possibly joke and yet hit on my precise thought.

Two. Two parker's, in any other situation it would be funny but not with the ensuing chaos that followed at least one of them. A neat packaged evil parker lay on the floor and it occurred that we plainly had one problem with this. What to do with him?

Yes, I'd missed him. More or less five minutes ago when I'd lain on the bed, wondering what the hell was wrong with him. Wanting him to be miraculously cured. I'd wanted my frank parker back. I'd missed him, a few days I'd missed him because the nagging thought had been behind all others for those few days. That he wasn't the same man. And I'd wanted the man I'd known back. I couldn't help it as my eyes briefly darted from his face to his chest and back a couple of times. I resolved to keep them on his face and it took more than a modest amount of effort, I was ashamed to admit. Now was not the time but I was preoccupied with both the fascination of a scientist at there being two of someone and disturbed by what had nearly happened and what had and with who. And too, with who it was not. He finished taking off his socks and excused himself, pulling the door closed with the towel that hung over the hook on the back.

I sat staring at Nazi parker while Parker showered. He looked identical. He was parker. An angry parker but his colloquialisms and manner were still the same. The way he walked, and he acted presumably how parker would act if he'd been as aggressive as this one. The naked torso of parker appeared around the door, slightly embarrassed. I stared at him until he broke the spell, asking for some pants. They really looked the same. It flew over my head, I could not begin to understand nor ponder what john had done to the sphere, which would be capable of doing this. Although it hadn't been planned it had worked nevertheless. Things did what they were made for, the misunderstanding lay in what the maker thought the thing did and the understanding of what did what in regard to roswellian technology was flawed. The general approach being twizzle that bit, stick on some of those and hope it doesn't kill anyone or get any worse than it previously was. John was getting better, mastering the art but this proved we were all a long way off the mark.

I stumbled around unsure of what to do; I was never much help in these .fiascos. Play...my...part. Well I couldn't argue with that. There was nothing else to do. He flashed around the room using both his feet and eyes, scanning the room for his clothes, trying to get dressed. My focus trailed after him for want of nothing better to do with myself. Our heads turned to hear the knock at the door and I silently prayed this wouldn't hold any more revelations as the last knock had. He motioned me to help drag the other parker to the closet. Answering the door he mentally pulled on his mask, acting in control, superior to the officer. I wondered if the guard would believe him when he said I was one of them. He did. He looked me up and down and took no more glances. To him it made sense, I realised what it must have added up too. Parker defending me, his slight undress, my roustled hair from earlier. It added up to believable. And I astonished myself by being not the least bit annoyed. It wasn't the time, nor the place and I was glad to have my parker back. Nothing else mattered. We fool starker, overpower them or something along the lines. Get back control. Deal with the rest later. However I didn't think I'd be the least bit annoyed later either.

As we entered the conference room John was staring in disbelief. He could count too, and I knew not just mathematically. It was so insane that everyone would believe it and it most certainly didn't happen. Parker met starker, for the first time. The act went on. My mind began to speculate on whether or not the rest of the team could see the glimmer of hatred flecked in parker's eye as he stared into Starker's. They didn't let on but possibly the cogs were moving, clunking in Isaac's head; he was the most astute person of them. If Isaac did not see then they did not. I hoped the reluctance to leave might twig it in their minds but it could be taken for anything, a sadness even at what they presumed I had done. I left feeling a deep horror that they had no idea he was back, parker would save them, us. They simply stared at me as I exited, turned my back on them. Happy having convinced myself it would be apparent to them shortly.

I quietly followed as they toured the complex. What Starker said though was the biggest surprise yet. It did make sense, he was a practical man, the first and foremost thing it was to him was a threat. Parker worked his ways on Starker, put the spin on it and somehow pulled it off, backstep was a go.

In the control room we started setting up the parameters and organizing for it. I wanted to tell Ballard, a signal, little, small, insignificant but my mind came blank and there was nothing that wouldn't draw the guard's attention too. I peered through the open doorway when I heard the footsteps. He nodded casually before carrying on walking confidently down to Starker. There was a discussion, I didn't know what they said, I cursed the fact I couldn't lip read English nearly as well as Russian. Whatever it was I saw the agonized gaze that took his features for an instant while turning away from the general. This had to go well. Backstep, and Parker would sort it out this time and I would not have to torture myself about the past few hours' events. Neither would I appreciate parker as much as I'd come to. Back there I'd never miss him, worry about the change. It would not have happened. And this would provide him with yet another thing to lay awake at night tormenting over why he could not explain his awkwardness around me that would surely happen, that stemmed from the look he gave me in the bedroom. I knew he'd never tell.

The guard moved away down the stairs to the ground floor of the hanger and I took the opportunity to enlighten Ballard, there was no need but he might as well know. There was no reason not to.

He'd made it to the top of the steps leading into the sphere, saluted the officers and starker and then everybody twisted about to be faced with the other parker shouting out that this was an impostor. My thoughts raced for the second time today and I rushed down stairs after him. We were so close, it couldn't fail now, it had to be alright. It needed to be alright. For the world. For China. For America. It depended of this. Not now!

Joining the entourage near the sphere I listened to him challenge parker. So I did the only thing possible. Starker believed me to be on his side, the fact that the parker who was not on his side had told him wasn't likely to cross his mind that quick. I took advantage of it.

I inwardly winced as I said it "We're lovers. We had just finished making love when your captain came to get us." The other parker had the better of us, he circled barking facts that parker couldn't have known, questions he couldn't answer and much to our disadvantage showed us up because he should have been the one asking them.

Starker grabbed my arm as he orderedPparker to be taken away. Parker didn't give up easily. He knew what was at stake and made a go for it. A backward punch to the guard and a blow to the other, he was half up the steps before being tackled by his lesser part. And nearly at the top when the bullet fired. It found it's target and I choked as the only hope for the world tumbled down the steps like a tattered rag doll.

I couldn't get to him fast enough, how long would he have? It was near the heart. Not instant but surely not long. His veins on his forehead protruded in pain and pressure. The wound bled, bubbling as the blood struggled upwards from the hole in the chest. And he couldn't even say a thing. Definitely not what I wanted to hear, just a whole lot of nothing and a few grasping breath's holding onto life. Then they stuttered and died. He died. My.everything..the.all..the world....it crashed. Fragmented.they came fragmented...in tears...sobs...my pain...

I regained composure enough to glare at him. Him. Hate absorbed into the word and soaked as saturation point was reached. I should have said it. Made him know what he made me feel. No. He was not parker. He cared for himself. And only himself with a careful ruse of being patriotic. And I felt like hitting him with the passion I'd screamed with, with the passion I cried with, with the pain that hurt in me and the anger he'd caused in my heart.

Most of all I hated that he'd made me hate. Because never in my life had I hated.