Title: Keeper's Promise

Author: Beth Carielle

Rating: PG-13  Some language and just because

Genre: Drama/Angst

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters from The Invisible Man, I'm not sure who they belong to anymore, I just like to write about them.

E-Mail: Bethcarielle@yahoo.com

Summary: Darien receives Claire's last gift in the end.

Warning: Character Death

Chapter One: Secrets, Secrets

Claire looked at her reflection in the mirror above her bathroom sink, she tried to ignore the dark circles under her eyes and the pale, hollow look of herself in general.  She was going to beat this thing, too many people depended on her, one in particular.

           Sighing, she left the bathroom and walked to her closet.  She pulled out a short sleeved shirt and slipped it over her head.  She froze, half dressed and remembered she couldn't wear it.  She roughly pulled it off and tossed it to the floor.  She held her arms out in front of her, eyeing the track marks that graced each forearm. 

'Damn injections anyways.' She thought.

She hadn't told anyone and wasn't going to start now by displaying her arms for everyone to see.  She picked up a long sleeved black shirt and pulled in on, who cared if it was July in San Diego, the lab was air conditioned.

Angry now, she stamped back to the bathroom to put on her make-up, a process that had recently become quite an ordeal as she tried to cover her sallow complexion and give herself a look of health.  She finished, said good-bye to Pavlov and left for the Harding Building.  

Claire arrived at work and plastered a lovely smile on her face.  She smiled at the security guard and took the elevator upstairs.  She walked down the empty halls to the lab.  That was one of the perks of arriving early, she was alone. 

She entered the lab, flicking on the lights, and began her morning rounds.  She checked her animals, booted up her computer, and dredging up that day's paperwork.  She checked the counteragent supply and decided to start another batch today.

Standing in front of the cooler, she looked past the vials of blue counteragent, focusing in the vial of yellowish liquid near the back.  Her own counteragent, at least she hoped it would be.  She had convinced her oncologist that she could dose herself since she was a doctor.

Speaking of which she was due for her next injection.  She opened the cooler and reached past Darien's lifeline and picked up her own.  Holding the small bottle she picked up a clean syringe and drew up the yellowish contents.  

She rolled up her left sleeve, yesterday had been right arm day.  Claire had become surprisingly adept at injecting herself, as the track marks proved, since the experimental chemotherapy had to be injected directly into a vein.

She tied the tourniquet around her upper arm and swabbed the swelling vein with alcohol.  She picked up the syringe and gently, though firmly slid the needle into her arm.  Hissing at the sharp sting, she began to depress the plunger. 

Claire was in mid injection when she heard the door to the Keep slide open.

"Hey Claire." Said Darien's voice behind her as he walked in.

"Shit!" she cursed under her breath, hastily withdrawing the syringe and yanking the tourniquet from her arm.  She reverently hoped that he hadn't seen. 

"Darien, you're early." She said as she casually pulled down her shirt sleeve and turned around, stealthily placing the syringe down on the counter.

"Umm…yeah.  Just needed a shot.  Are you alright?" asked Darien, concern tinting his voice.

"I'm fine, fine." Said Claire with forced cheerfulness that she hoped wasn't obvious.

Darien looked at her thoughtfully for a moment and then moved over to the chair.

Claire retrieved a vial of counteragent and another syringe.  She watched Darien roll up her sleeve and his faded track marks were visible, reminding her of her own too recent ones.  She silently prepped the waiting arm, ignoring the burning pain coursing through hers.  She injected the counteragent and looked up.

"There, all set." She said.  She could see the questions and concern in those liquid brown eyes.

"Thanks." He mumbled, pulling down his sleeve and standing up.  He started to leave the Keep when he paused and turned around.

"Hey…Claire, you know you can always tell me anything." He offered in a rush.

"Thank you Darien, but I'm fine, really." She responded calmly, even though her mind was screaming a different message, something along the lines of: "I have leukemia, but I haven't told anyone because I'm too stubborn and the experimental chemo may or may not work but I offered to try it anyways."

"I'm fine Darien, really." She reiterated and shooed him from the lab.

Claire tidied up the supply tray and swore when shaky hands caused her drop the box of alcohol wipes.  Looking at the white paper packets scattered across the floor reminded her of her own present life, which was also scattered in a unpleasant disarray. 

She sat down on the chair heavily and roughly wiped the silent tears from her face.  She wasn't going to cry again, she had already spent one day crying, she wasn't going to spend another doing it again.

She got up from the chair and kneeled to pick of the wipes, placing them back in their box.  She stretched her left arm to reach the last few and winced at the pain inside her elbow.  She stood up and replaced the box on the tray and pushed up her sleeve again.  A lovely purple hematoma was forming where the needle had been violently withdrawn a few minutes ago. 

Claire pulled her sleeve back down and sat in front of her computer.  She was working on a new idea that she had had recently as to how to remove the gland.  It seemed promising.

****

"Hey Hobbes, have you noticed anything unusual about the Keep lately?"

"Unusual how?" asked Bobby, looking up from his desk.

"I don't know.  She seems more stressed, tired, upset I guess."

"Well you do keep her pretty busy with your trips off the deep end my friend."

Darien gave Bobby a sideways glance and considered this.

"Do you really think I'm causing her that much stress?" asked Darien, guilt touching his voice.

"I'm sure she's fine Fawkes.  She's probably just working too much." Offered Bobby by way of explanation.

Darien nodded left Bobby's office, formulating his own plan of answer seeking.

****

Claire was watching her computer screen as the processor spit out rows of numbers into a spread sheet.  Catching herself in mid yawn, she looked at the clock, lunch time.  She saved her spreadsheet and pushed herself away from the desk and stood up, stretching sore neck and back muscles.  She always felt pretty good about lunch time, she hoped it meant the chemo was working.  She didn't look forward to the evening however, that was when the nausea set in.  Claire picked up her jacket and purse and left the keep.

Darien was walking down the hall when he heard Claire's footsteps.  He knew they were hers because of the light click of her shoes.  Not wanting to be seen he quicksilvered, and watched Claire leave the Keep and walk right by him where he stood.

He quietly continued down the hall, quicksilver flaking off of him as he slid his keycard through the lock next to the door.  He entered the Keep and looked around.  Nothing seemed to be out of order or unusual.  He wandered past the animals and to the cooler.  He saw the vials of counteragent sitting on the shelf and instinctively checked his wrist where the currently all green tattoo resided.

He looked past the counteragent to the yellowish vials.

"What's that?" he murmured.

He opened the cooler and picked up a vial.  They were plain with the exception of a solitary string of numbers and letters reading X-F4x15MM, which meant nothing to him. 

"Hmm, I wonder what this is?" he thought out loud holding the vial up to the light.  Shrugging he replaced it in the rack and closed the cooler.  He's ask Claire about it later.

He wandered over to her computer and glanced over the papers littering her desk.  Facts, figures and schematic printouts covered the immediate area.  He carefully lifted the top layer and scanned the documents underneath, nothing caught his attention.

Sighing at the lack of answers he was uncovering he left the Keep.  He supposed he was going to have to ask her again.

****

Claire worked on enjoying a light lunch at a nearby coffee shop but couldn't stop herself from thinking about the foods return path later that night.  She pushed away her half finished soup and sipped at her orange juice. 

She looked at her watch, she was scheduled for her second shot in two hours.  It was always the second shot that made her sick. 

Finishing her orange juice, Claire stood up and walked to the counter to pay her bill.  After doing so she slowly walked back to the Harding Building.  She did have one glimmer of joy to think about, the spreadsheet data she had been working on before she left for lunch was all pointing in a positive direction.

Entering the building, she stepped onto the elevator and continued to the Keep.  Hanging up her coat she sat back down at her computer.  She scanned the data again and once again felt the hope that rested deep within her being.  She hoped this really would be Darien's chance.

****

Bobby had dragged Darien out to meet some source of his and they were just returning.

"See, what did I tell you?  Hobbes-Net comes through again, my friend." Said Bobby cockily.

"Well at least we weren't shot at this time." Replied Darien.

"Yeah, well…yeah." Was Bobby's faltering reply.  "I have some paper work to do.  Can you stay out of trouble for the rest of the day?" asked Bobby.

"Yes Hobbes, contrary to popular belief I am capable of taking care of myself." Quipped Darien.

Bobby nodded and went to his office.  Darien continued down the hall to the Keep.  He knew something was up, that she was hiding something, which made him incredibly nervous since chances were it had something to do with the gland and it's continuing campaign to make his life miserable.

He slid his keycard though the scanner and walked in as the door opened.  Claire was perched on the edge of the chair, left sleeve rolled up to expose her forearm.  Darien saw the all to familiar syringe delivering the yellowish contents into her arm.

What was she doing?  Was that the stuff he had found earlier?  What was it?

"Umm…Claire?" asked Darien, pausing to clear his throat.

She jumped and jerked the syringe out of her arm.  She turned towards him, a look of fearful panic mixed with guilt, shame, and anger crossing her face.

"Damn it Darien, what are you doing here?" she asked, trying to force the quaver out of her voice.

"I was about to ask you the same thing." Replied Darien, trying to dispel some of the tension.

"Nothing you need to worry about." She said pointedly, setting the syringe down and pulling her sleeve down.

"That doesn't look like nothing." Darien said nodded towards the tray were the hypodermic lay.

"Look Darien, I'm fine like I already told you earlier.  It's just something…" Claire's voice faded as she stood up and proceeded to faint.

Darien rushed to her side, rolling her to her back.  He palpated her neck, searching for her pulse.

"Claire…Claire.  Hey Keepy, Keepy Claire, are you alright?" asked Darien as she regained consciousness.

Claire turned her face away from him, embarrassment washing over her.  She had fainted, she hadn't fainted after an injection for quite awhile.  She used to after every shot since the chemo was such a shock to her system in the beginning.

"Here, let me help you up." Said Darien standing, pulling her with him.

"I'm fine Darien." She tried again, appalled at the weakness in her voice.

"Unt uh, that won't work this time." He said shaking his head, "What's up?" he asked, settling her on the chair.

Claire looked into the imploring eyes, wanting to wrapped in the comfort that they offered.  She closed her eyes and laid her head back.  Should she tell him?  She knew he would just worry unnecessarily.

"Darien…" she started softly.  "Darien, I'm ok right now.  Sometimes it makes me faint, that's all."

"The yellow stuff, X-F4x15MM, what is it?"

"How do you know the prescription code?" asked Claire, the answer arriving as she asked the question.  "You've already been looking through things haven't you?"

"Well, just a little bit." Admitted Darien.  "You were acting so odd this morning I couldn't help a little invisible snooping."

Claire sighed.  The practical part of her mind winning the battle in her brain and settling on the truth.

"Darien you have to understand that right now I'm fine, I don't even feel sick."

Darien's eyes widen at the word sick.  "Sick?" he asked quietly.

"Leukemia." She said flatly.  "The yellow stuff, as you put it, is an experimental chemotherapy that I offered to try.  The Official doesn't know, Bobby doesn't know, Eberts doesn't know, you're the only one I've told."

Darien was silent in his shock.  Keeper-leukemia…Keeper-leukemia…Keeper-leukemia…those two words spun around in his head.

"So you're alright?" asked Darien.

"I am right now." Answered Claire, trying to keep a waver out of her voice.

"Oh Claire." Said Darien softly, standing and embracing her.  "I always said that you could tell me anything."

Claire nodded against his shoulder and let her tears fall on his shirt.  The relief of having told someone was immense, yet quite possibly the most frightening thing she had ever done.  She was no longer in control, she was just pretending she was.

"Claire?" Darien's voice shook her away from her thoughts.

"Hmm?"

"Why didn't you tell anyone?"

"I…I didn't want to let anyone down.  People depend on me, you depend on me." She answered softly.

"Claire, you've never let anyone down, especially me."

Claire nodded again and sighed into the comforting shoulder.

"Thank you Darien."
           "For what?"

"For being here, for listening, for not freaking out, for being my friend."

"Any time Keep, any time."