Over the Edge (1/?)
By Carol M.
See prologue for details
Bumps a'comin very soon. Don't say I didn't warn you. Enjoy!
Three weeks later
The barrel was cold against the inside of Darien's mouth. Cold and tasting of steel. It was suffocating in its size, causing his breaths to come in rapid, shallow pants. Of course, that might have been from the fear, he couldn't be sure.
The hand that held the gun was shaky and every few seconds was splattered with teardrops that fell from his eyes. The tears rolled off his hand and fell to the floor, forming splotchy dots on the cheap carpeting of his apartment.
"Come on, do it, pull the trigger," he whispered through the tears. "Die your way, not theirs."
He breathed in then, nearly choking on his own snot. "Please forgive me," he hoarsed out. His finger tightened around the trigger and then hesitated, an idea popping into his head.
He slid the gun out of his mouth, shivering at the teeth on metal contact. He quickly whipped the gun around to the back of his head, pressing it against the area where the gland was located. "I go you go, you little bastard," he whispered in an oddly determined voice. He took a deep breath and put his finger firmly against the trigger, closing his eyes. Images of Bobby, Claire, Alex, Eberts and even the Official assaulted his senses, causing him to grimace as if in pain. A single tear dripped down from his closed eye and formed a small puddle on his collarbone. "It's been swell kids. See ya later." His eyes clenched in fear and hesitation for a moment, and then he pushed down on the trigger as hard as he could.
He expected a boom. He expected pain and blood. He expected darkness. What he didn't expect was a soft click. He pushed the trigger down again and heard the same soft clicking noise. He quickly removed the gun from the back of his head and stared down at it, realizing that the safety was on. His heart started to beat so loudly he thought he would die of a heart attack right there. "Oh god," he whispered in a terrified tone as he realized what he had almost succeeded in doing.
"Oh my god," he whispered as his legs gave out from under him and he fell to the floor. He leaned his head down against his knees and didn't fight the waterfall of tears that started to pour from his tired eyes. They went on for what seemed like hours until he was sure he had cried out every tear his body would ever produce. He sat up, sniffling loudly and stared down at the gun that was still firmly planted in his hand. His heart skipped a beat and without hesitation, he threw the gun as hard as he could across the room, where it landed on the floor next to his window.
He looked down at his hand, almost expecting to see some kind of scar from the memory of the gun. His gaze drifted to where the gun was resting on the floor, and he visibly started to shake with chills. "No," he said loudly. "Not today." He glanced over at his unmade bed and then got on his hands and knees, crawling slowly towards the comfortable sanctuary. He pulled himself onto the mattress and then buried his head under a sea of blankets and pillows, his body and mind shutting down almost instantly. And that was where he fell into an exhausted sleep, temporarily pulled out of the reality of going permanently insane in a matter of weeks.
**
Several days later
The fourth blow from Alex's high heeled boot into Darien's midsection would have hurt terribly if he hadn't been in Stage 3 madness. As it was, Darien wasn't really feeling much of anything except the need to pummel both Alex and Bobby.
This of course was after the five Chrysali that he had already taken down. A simple tip from Hobbesnet and a boring stakeout had quickly escalated when the agents had found out that the rundown building they had been watching all day was the current keeper of the quicksilver Chrysalis had milked from the cows at the vineyard several weeks earlier. Darien had quicksilvered to get a better look inside and then all hell had broken loose. In the end, the quicksilver was deftly removed from the facility by a few Chrysalis members while Bobby and Alex struggled outside to tame their psychotic partner, who had decided he'd had enough of stakeouts, Chrysalis and quicksilver.
"Come on, Fawkes, you need to calm down, we need to give you the counteragent," said Alex as she stood in a defensive position in front of Darien.
Darien took in a breath and let it out, humming pleasantly. "Oh, I am calm, Monroe," he said with a seductive smile. "You're the one who needs to calm down," he said as he walked towards her and smacked her across the face, sending her to the ground.
"Fawkes, stop!" yelled Bobby as he jumped on Darien's back. "Just stop it," he yelled with anger as he dug his shoes into Darien's sides.
Darien responded by backing up against the wall behind him hard, knocking Bobby to the ground. He was about to hit the fallen agent when his legs were swept out from under him. He landed on the ground heavily next to Bobby, the air knocked from his lungs.
He stared up at Alex's form standing over him. "That wasn't very nice," he said to her breathlessly. He lunged towards her and was knocked back to the ground when she placed a hard karate chop to his throat. He gasped on the ground, trying to get air into his lungs.
Bobby got up quickly to assist Alex. "How the hell are we going to do this?" he asked her as he took a syringe of counteragent out of his pocket. When Darien saw it, he immediately lunged at Bobby, his arms reaching towards Bobby's neck. "Fawkes," yelled Bobby as he took a step back out of Darien's reach.
Alex took the opening and placed a hard kick to Darien's face. The force of the blow smacked his head against the concrete, knocking him into a semi-conscious daze.
"Now Hobbes!" shouted Alex urgently.
Bobby nodded and stepped forward, carefully inserting the needle into Darien's neck. Darien groaned and tried to get away from his partner, but Bobby was too fast for him. He quickly pressed down on the plunger and the contents of the shot flooded Darien's body, sending the younger man into complete unconsciousness.
Bobby dropped the needle on the ground and then leaned against the wall for a second, trying to catch his breath. "Damn that was a bad one," he as he ran a finger over his lip to wipe away a drop of blood. He glanced up at Alex, noting a small scrape on her cheek. "You okay there, Monroe?" he asked.
Alex nodded. "Yeah, I'm okay," she said as she stared down at Darien's still form. "It's getting worse for him, isn't it?" she asked, the smallest amount of concern flashing through her green eyes.
Bobby sighed and nodded. "It isn't pretty, that's for sure," he said, gazing sympathetically at his still unconscious partner.
Alex stared down at them for several more seconds and then cleared her throat. "Well, I'm going to see what's left of Chrysalis inside," she said as she stepped over the two of them and started walking briskly towards the Chrysalis safe house.
Bobby watched her disappear into the building and then turned his attention back to his partner when he heard a small groan escape his lips. "That's it buddy, wake up," he whispered with encouragement.
Darien's eyes fluttered several times and then opened for real, his gaze filled with confusion and pain. He craned his neck to look up at Bobby and instantly regretted the motion as not only pain, but nausea swept through his body. "Oh," he groaned out.
Bobby put a supportive hand on the back of his neck and forced him back to the ground. "Easy Fawkes. You got knocked around a bit."
Darien glanced up at him, noticing the blood still leaking out of his mouth. "I do that?" he said in a tone that was more a statement then a question.
Bobby moved his finger once again to his bloody lip and wiped it off, shrugging. "This is nothing, kid. A mere scratch. You on the other hand, you're another story."
"Monroe?" whispered Darien as he struggled up into a sitting position.
Bobby nodded towards the building. "Inside checking out for parasites. Barely broke a nail."
Darien bit his lip and nodded, glancing down at his wrist. "Four out of seven ain't bad, right?" he asked, flashing Bobby the four red segments that had not been filled by the counteragent. "Only a matter of time before this thing doesn't fill at all you know. Think the Official's gonna keep me out here until then, you know, get his money's worth?"
Bobby cringed. "He'll have to go through me to do it, buckwheat," he said as he stood up and grabbed Darien's hand to help him off the ground. "Come on, I'm taking you to the Keep."
Darien accepted the hand and stood up, cradling his ribs with his arm. "Naw man, I'm fine. I just wanna go home and lie down."
Bobby furrowed his brow. "I think Claire should really check you out," he said as he glanced at the bump on the side of Darien's face and the blood spilling from his nose. "You might have a concussion or some cracked ribs even," he said as he noticed the delicate way Darien held his midsection.
"Hobbes, really man, I'm fine. Can you please just take me home?" asked Darien in a tone that was bordering on begging.
Bobby thought for a minute and against better judgment decided to take Darien up on his request. "All right," he said as he slung Darien's arm over his shoulder and started walking him towards Golda.
The pair walked in silence until Darien stopped suddenly, causing Bobby to nearly fall to the ground. "What? What's wrong?" he asked urgently.
"I'm sorry," said Darien softly.
Bobby shrugged. "What, what for…for this?" he asked pointing at his lip. "Fawkes this is…"
"Nothing I know," interrupted Darien. "I just mean I'm sorry for all this. Sorry you got a partner who goes nutso and tries to kill you."
Bobby turned so he was looking Darien in the eye. "Stop apologizing," he said with a stern look. "You hear me?"
Darien nodded.
"Good," said Bobby, satisfied. "Let's get you home," he said as he once again grabbed a hold of Darien and led him towards Golda.
**
"Maid on vacation, Fawkesy?" asked Bobby twenty minutes later when they arrived at Darien's apartment. The small loft was a mess of clothes, books, food and dishes.
Darien shrugged and let Bobby help him into his bed. "Well I figured, you know, only got a couple of weeks left, why waste them cleaning?" he said as he crawled under his covers.
Bobby let go of his arm and stared down at him with disdain. "That's it?"
"Excuse me?" said Darien with confusion.
Bobby shook his head and walked into Darien's bathroom. "You've just resigned yourself to the fact that there's no hope? Is that what you're saying here?" he asked as he came out of the bathroom with some antiseptic and bandages. He sat down on the bed next to Darien and began wiping up the bloody cuts on Darien's face.
Darien flinched when the antiseptic hit one of the bloodier gashes. "Ahhhh," he hissed. "Hobbes, look around, does there look like I have much hope?"
Bobby shook his head in frustration and applied a few bandages to Darien's cuts. "You're a fool, Fawkes. You're better than this. Hell, you're more stubborn than this. The Darien Fawkes I know would be going into the extra inning, not sitting the game out in the locker room."
"Hobbes, this whole baseball analogy is beautiful, really it is, but I can just get some sleep?" said Darien as he curled his arm around his waist and lay back in his bed.
Bobby smirked and headed towards the kitchen to get some ice. "You're gonna let this happen to yourself?" he said in an angry tone.
"Well I don't think I have much of a choice here," answered Darien. "I don't see Claire suddenly coming up with some solution, and Arnaud has pretty much disappeared with his magical formula. All and all, I'd say I'm pretty much screwed."
Bobby shook his head as he returned from the kitchen and came up next to Darien, smacking down an icepack hard on his partner's stomach.
"Owwww," yelped Darien. "What the hell was that for?"
"For regressing back to the punk you were when I first met you," said Bobby sharply as he sat down on the bed next to Darien. "Stop feeling sorry for yourself. You can do this. You're stronger than…" Bobby stopped mid sentence as he gazed at something on the floor.
"You're stronger than…what?" asked Darien, waiting for the answer.
Bobby ignored him and got off the bed, retrieving the item that had caught his eye. He held it up for Darien to see. "Since when do you own a gun?"
Darien's eyes clouded over in fear. "Hobbes," he said with apprehension.
"Were you going to off yourself? Just like that? No goodbyes…no notes…no nothing?" asked Bobby, his tone getting angrier and angrier by the second.
Darien shrunk back in his bed, suddenly very frightened of the small man standing before him. "I don't know," he said in a flustered voice.
"You don't know?" screamed Bobby as he carefully took the bullets out of the gun and started chucking them one by one at Darien, who had to hold up his arm to protect himself from getting hit in the face.
"Hobbes!" yelled Darien when one of the bullets conked him hard in the arm.
Bobby was undeterred and continued to throw the bullets. "You think this is gonna solve everything don't you? Real easy way out, right kid? Screw the big bad Official, screw the gland and most of all screw your partner. Just gonna take yourself out and end this before it gets too hard," he said as he threw the final bullet from the gun at Darien's face.
Darien ducked away from the bullet and then glared at Bobby. "It wasn't like that," he said as he swept all the bullets that had landed on his bed onto the floor.
"Sure it was," said Bobby. "You're being selfish. What about me? What about Claire? What the hell are we supposed to do if you blow your brains out, huh? You think were just gonna go about are daily routine like it never happened?"
"I'm sorry," whispered Darien.
Bobby nodded. "Damn right you're sorry."
Darien stared at Bobby for a second and then shook his head. "No, you know what? I'm not sorry! I'm not sorry, Hobbes. This thing in my head is eating me alive, okay! I'm dying. As soon as my eyes hit permanent silver, I'm gone. The Official will have this gland out of my head so fast it'll make your head spin! You don't know what that feels like!" he shouted, dangerously close to tears.
"Yeah, I guess I don't," said Bobby. "But I know what feels like to want to die. Been there and done that several times, my friend and let me tell you, it's not the answer."
"Doesn't really much matter where the bullet comes from, Hobbesy, because in a few weeks it'll be adios to your good buddy Darien Fawkes. What's it matter if it's from my gun or from the Official's scalpel?" asked Darien.
"Because you're better than that. Because you're supposed to have hope. Because you're supposed to believe in miracles. Damn it, you're supposed to believe in me…in Claire…hell, in yourself," yelled Bobby.
"Well I don't anymore, okay!" shouted Darien, a few tears streaming down his cheeks. He quickly wiped them away in embarrassment. "I just want this to end!" he screamed, looking down at his blanket.
Bobby stepped forward and pulled him up by the hair so they were face to face. "You're pathetic."
Darien shook his head, sniffling. "I'm not pathetic!"
Bobby smirked and shook his head. "You're so pathetic. You're just ready to give up on everything and everyone in your life because you're tired! What a waste you are! There are people who love you and genuinely care for you and your selfish ass is gonna let them all down. Just rid the world of Darien Fawkes for good without so much as a whimper or a scream!" shouted Bobby.
"Stop," pleaded Darien in a cold tone.
"Yeah, you know, what good are you anyway?" asked Bobby, ignoring Darien's pleas. "All you do is sit around and bitch about how much your life sucks. How you got dragged into this job and this life that you didn't want, and now you bitch cause it's all gonna end. You're no hero Fawkes. Not like this. Hell, maybe you should have been the one to die at the compound and not your brother. At least he died with a little honor," shouted Bobby, who regretted the harsh words as soon as they left his mouth.
A look of hurt washed over Darien's face and he quickly looked away, not wanting Bobby to see the new tears that had sprung from his eyes.
Bobby took an awkward breath. "I'm sorry," he said quickly. "Fawkes, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it," he said, trying to catch Darien's eye.
Darien inhaled sharply and shrugged. He put on an emotionless gaze as he finally looked up at Bobby, trying to hide how much his partner's words had really hurt him. "Maybe you're right," he said.
"No…Fawkes," said Bobby in an apologetic tone.
Darien shook his head. "No, it's okay, man. Let's just cool off and get things straight in the morning."
"I really am sorry," said Bobby in a sincere tone.
Darien nodded. "I know. Me too," he said softly. "Let me get some sleep, okay?"
"Yeah," said Bobby, nodding. He put Darien's gun in his pocket. "Wouldn't want you doing anything stupid in the night," he said as he met his partner's uneasy gaze.
"Probably a good idea," said Darien as he lay back in his pillows. "Get outta here. I'll see you tomorrow."
Bobby hesitated for a minute, looking like he wanted to say something and instead, simply nodded. "Seven. Be awake," said Bobby.
"Seven," repeated Darien. "I'll try," he said, waving him off.
Bobby took one last look at his partner and sighed heavily. "See ya buddy," he said as he stepped out the door.
"Later," responded Darien. He watched Bobby leave and then curled around the ice bag on his gut, letting the cold do its thing and numb up his bruised torso. Minutes later, he fell into a troubled sleep, forgetting to set his alarm.
TBC