Chapter 3

Crossroads

Please Review

Dark themes ahead people. You've been warned.


His insides were squirming, his hands trembling as he searched the jingling chain of metal for the right keys. A thin layer of sweat was dampening his skin, and his flesh felt itchy, like his insides were trying to burst from the meat sack covering his bones. He hadn't felt like this since he was sixteen; uneasy and nervous, a twitchy puddle of blood and organs. He closed his eyes shut, steadying his breath. He briefly mused to himself and even inwardly chuckled at the thought that Eva had poisoned him; slipped a roofie into his drink. If he hadn't felt like this before he would have given more thought to the possibility, but these symptoms had for a while, been a consistent recurrence.

He had been standing in front of his apartment for a while, staring at the front door, eyeing the mahogany wood patterns that fell and swooped against the lumber like silky brown patches of dirty water. Actually, he barely recalled how he had even gotten back home. He remembered the god awful headache; that he remembered. In fact, he couldn't forget; it was a pain of all pains, a searing agony that bit and gnawed at his brain until darkness overwhelmed him. He hadn't had a migraine like that since he had woken up in a hospital bed, the morning after his accident, brandishing new wounds.

His fingers latched around the cold steel before taking it and plunging it into the keyhole. It took damn near two tries before he was able to get it into the opening. With a flick of his wrist he turned the knob, pressed open the door and stepped inside of his apartment, his blue eyes falling upon the rigid stance of his girlfriend, her lips parted with surprise, her pale skin flushed a deep red.

She rushed toward him, wrapping her arms around his body, burying her face in his neck, taking in the sight of him, the smell of him. When he made no move to return the embrace, she tensed and released him, looking up with bewildered eyes, shadowed by a small dose of hurt.

"Are you okay?" she asked, her fingertips grazing the sleeves of his shirt, the warmth from her hands heating his damp skin. "I was worried."

He looked at her, silent, his gaze falling to her hands that had grabbed his own, the sparkling diamond glistening beneath the halogen lights.

"I'm surprised you're even wearing that," he said, his voice gruff. He moved around her, pulling off his coat, loosening the top buttons of his shirt before exhaling sharply.

She looked surprised, her mouth dangling open before she replied. "You gave it to me, you said it belonged to me."

"I know what I said," he mumbled, turning to face her. "I'm sorry tonight didn't turn out the way you wanted it to."

Her eyes narrowed, he was acting strange, nonchalant. "Tonight was for you, Darien."

"I know that. I didn't expect my uncle to show up there."

"None of us did," she said honestly, stepping towards him. "What happened? I mean…what did he want?"

"To talk. About the family business," he lied, glancing at the wooden floors before turning his attention back to her.

"That's it? You were gone for a long time. I was worried."

He didn't want to lie to her. "I met someone, from my past. We talked and I came home."

He was being too vague for her liking and there was something different about his demeanor, his stance, he seemed cold; cold like his uncle. "And that's it?"

"Yeah that's it." He sighed again. There was nothing more to say. Nothing happened between them. Eva said her spiel, he blacked out, stumbled out of her hotel, drove himself home.

"Here," she said, taking his hand pulling him toward his bedroom. "Let me run some bath water for you. It'll help you relax, I'm sure the meeting with your uncle was full of hugs and giggles."

He smirked at her sarcasm. "I think I'll just shower. I'm tired, Serena." He paused, turning to face her. "You should probably go. I'll drive you home."

Her lips pursed. "I thought I would stay with you. It's your birthday, after all."

"I know. I just…I've gotten you into enough trouble as it is…your father will have a fit if you spend another night here. "

She shrugged. "I don't care. I want to be here with you."

"I know," he said, the keys jiggling in his pocket. "But I have a lot on my mind…I just…need to be alone, that's all."

Her expression remained passive. There was something he wasn't telling her, something that he was hiding from her and she knew it. Grabbing her coat, Serena tried to convince herself that it was nothing; that his uncle was displeased with him for one reason or another, and he needed time to think things through. Everything would be okay.

Yet as he ushered her from the room, his hand resting precariously on her back, she felt that something in him had changed tonight, that the darkness, the sadness that she had occasionally glimpsed behind his eyes was struggling to break free, to imprison him in a hell of ominous thoughts and grief. She mused to herself that everything would be okay, that they would make it through this.

No matter what it was that was trying to destroy him, uncle or thoughts unspoken, she could always be there to save him.


"Did he tell you what happened?" asked Mina, sipping her Shirley Temple as she watched Serena prod at the burger that sat untouched on her plate.

"No," she responded, her voice far off and empty. "He said they talked about the family business."

"But you said he was gone until nearly three in the morning!" cried Lita, crossing her arms over chest and leaning back in the chair.

"He said he ran into an old friend."

"Did he give you a name?" Mina asked.

"No. He wasn't exactly in a sharing mood when he came home."

"Well, you guys are getting married, he's going to have to learn to open up to you about his past," said the blonde, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her back and popping an onion ring into her mouth. "These need more garlic. Where's the waiter?"

"No!," yelled Lita, grabbing the plate and removing it from the presence of her friend. "I'm driving you home and I'm going to have to sit in the care with your more garlic."

Mina frowned. "I'm not so sure he even wants to marry me now," Serena mumbled, pushing the plate away from her and wiping her hands in the napkin that was resting against her lap. "He was so distant last night. He even seemed surprised I was wearing the ring."

"Well it wasn't exactly a proper proposal you know," said Lita. "Maybe he was just surprised that you accepted."

"Maybe."

Lita paused to study her friend, she looked doubtful and scared. "Are you having second thoughts, Serena?"

"No," she said looking down at the sparkling trinket. "Yes. I don't know. Maybe we're rushing into things. We only started dating a month ago and there's so much I don't know about Darien. There's so much that he doesn't know about himself."

"What do you mean?" asked Mina, reaching for the onion rings before Lita playfully swatted her hand away.

"Darien's parents died in a car accident when he was a kid. He was in the car when it happened. He woke up in the hospital with some severe injuries to his brain. He said the doctors told him that he had global amnesia and that he may never get his memories back because of it."

"So where does this uncle come in?" asked Lita.

"I don't know. Darien never mentioned him to me before. I didn't even know that he had surviving relatives."

Mina sighed. "We've all known Darien for such a long time, you know, and we don't know that much about him. He was always vague and private when it came to his personal life. I think none of us really ever realized that he was a Chiba. His uncle practically owns all of Tokyo."

Lita chuckled. "Well it's not something that comes up in everyday conversation. Can you imagine him walking up to people and just mentioning out of the blue that he was a multi-millionaire?"

"But that's what I mean, you guys, there are so many things, little things, big things, that I just don't know about him."

"Serena, it would take you an entire lifetime to figure out all of Darien's quirks and secrets. Your parents have been married forever and I'm sure they find out new things about each other every day," Mina said soothingly.

"But this, this is different," Serena said, blinking quickly. "I just feel like there are so many things, important things, he's not telling me. Things that I should probably know. Everything feels different now. I just don't know what to do."

"Do you love him?" asked the brunette.

"Of course I love him. But right now, I'm sure that that's going to be enough."


"What are you doing here?" asked Darien, running his fingers through disheveled locks as he surveyed the woman before him. She looked even prettier than she did last night. Her dark hair was falling into her eyes, luscious locks cascading down her shoulders and over her breasts. She was wearing a black pea coat with a Burberry scarf wrapped loosely around her neck. Her smoky lids were dusted with flecks of navy blue and gray, highlighting the forest green eyes that stared at him with languid intensity.

"I just stopped by to say hello," she said, her voice steady. "Can I come in?"

He hesitated. "No."

She smiled sweetly. "Why not? I drove here just to see if you were okay. You blacked out in my hotel room last night, left and didn't even bother to let me know you made it back alive. Just because you don't remember me doesn't mean I don't care about you, Darien."

He sighed before moving out of the way so that she could enter his apartment. She glanced around appreciatively before staring up at him. "You are okay right?" she asked, stepping closer to him, staring at the bags under his eyes. "I mean, your headaches used to be much worse. I'm just surprised you're still having them."

"Much worse, huh?"

"You don't remember those either?" she asked, pulling off her scarf and letting it fall to the couch before leaning against the sofa.

"Kind of. When I think about them, everything seems blurry. Almost like it was a dream."

"Well, that's normal considering what happened to you. It's not every day you meet a person that's had two traumatic injuries to their brains. You're lucky you turned out the way you did. You could have made things way worse for yourself."

"Worse for myself? You're acting like I did it on purpose," he said, his eyes narrowing as he stared at her.

She sighed. "You don't want t to talk about it, that's fine, but I was there for you. We were…close. I could have helped you, if only you told me what you were feeling."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Darien asked, his voice raising. All of a sudden he felt queasy, angry, confused.

"Never mind," she said, raising her hands up in surrender. "I didn't come here to fight with you or bring up old stuff, okay."

"No, it's not okay. Where the hell were you going with this? What exactly are you implying?"

"You know what I'm implying, you know what you did! And worst off, you didn't…you just left afterwards. I know you had amnesia and you were obviously upset, but you didn't even try to work things out with me, with your Uncle, with anyone! You deserted all of us!"

"I barely remember my Uncle and I certainly don't remember you. I'm not going to apologize for something I don't remember doing. And maybe I was driving erratically, but implying that I drove into the cliff on purpose..."

"Implying? Who's implying it? I can't even imagine what you were thinking."

"I don't know what I was thinking! I don't remember what happened, damn it!"

"Well I do, I remember you lying in that hospital bed, I remember holding your hand, touching your face as you laid in that hospital bed again and all I remembered thinking, asking myself, was why didn't you come to me. I would have helped you. I would have tried to make things better. Easier for you."

Darien watched as steady streaks of clear tears fell from her eyes. She looked away from him into the sunlight, into the clouds as she sniffled and sighed. "I'm sorry…I don't remember," he said.

"Darien," she said quietly, walking towards him and letting her fingers brush against his cheek. "You tried to kill yourself."