Summary: Claire 'catches' (notice how I put catches in quotations) a VERY VERY harmful disease (or poison). It costs A LOT of money for the cure. (Hey, to me for a cure, five hundred grand costs a lot so if it's not, just think of more in the million or two) How far will Hobbes and Fawkes go to get the money?


Author's Note: It's like 9:00 on Fri. and I just watched Per Chance To Dream, and the end was so sweet where Claire gave Hobbes a kiss on the cheek, and now I got like a new muse so we'll see how this one turns out! . . .I can't think of how to start it!!! ::whimpers:: I'll come back later when I actually write this thing . . .I'm back! I had a really big clue about who did it, but I just deleted it, cause I decided that I want you to be really surprised! And oh will you be surprised! (I think)



Poison



"Hey Keep." said Darien as him and Hobbes walked into the Keep. Their response was a horrible cough that lasted awhile.


"You all right?" asked Bobby.


She nodded her head, fixing the counteragent for Fawkes. They noticed she was moving slower than usual, and suspicion brewed inside of them. After giving him the shot, she had another coughing attack, making her drop the empty needle. She fell to the floor because of fatigue, while Fawkes and Hobbes rushed over to her. As they kneeled down to help her, she brung her hand from her mouth, which was now dripping with blood. Coughing some more, the blood went all over her hand and she groaned with pain from her throat. She looked up at Bobby. He could see the pain in her eyes as she tried to whisper the word, "Help."


She fainted, and falling back into Bobby's arms, him and Darien picked her up, and sat her in 'Darien's chair.' "Stay here!" Fawkes said with a slight tone of panic in his voice. "I'm gonna' go get help!"


Hobbes nodded, and watched Darien run out of the Keep. Claire started to cough more, bringing the blood to rush out of her mouth. "Oh God."




Inside the hospital, Fawkes, Hobbes, Eberts, and the Official stood outside Claire's room, listening intently to the doctor. "She's been poisoned." the doctor replied. "It's rare; you hardly see it. I believe it originated from Russia. It causes internal bleeding in the insides; eats its way through the bronchial tube and the stomach until it reaches your skin. After it eats through the skin . . .well . . ."


"How long does she have?" asked the Official.


"A week . . .at the most." the doctor gulped.


Hobbes stood inside the door frame, back to the doctor, listening. He turned around after the doctor was done with the diagnosis. "Is there any cure?"


The doctor sighed. "Yes, but I'm afraid it is very expensive."


"How expensive?" he asked with a challenging look on his face.


The doctor met his eyes. 'Sorry' was etched across his face. "Five-Hundred Grand."


A pang hit Bobby right in the middle of his stomach. He turned around and looked back at Claire, who was laying motionless on the hospital bed. He turned back around and said, "Do it."


"Hobbes . . ." began Fawkes.


But Bobby met his eyes and said in slightly louder voice to the doctor, "I said 'Do it.' "




"How are we going to get the money, Hobbes?" asked Fawkes, trying to keep up with Bobby's fast pace to the van.


"I don't know." he said quickly, keeping his eyes on the van.


"Well, you better think of something fast." Hobbes got into the van and slammed the door behind him. He stared straight ahead, not looking at Fawkes as he got into the van on the other side. "What are we gonna' do?" Fawkes asked, looking over at Hobbes.


Bobby finally looked over at Darien, not saying anything. "You're not thinking . . ." Darien began, but he already knew what Hobbes was thinking. "All right, let's do it."