Darien slept the rest of the day, and after waking for only a short time surprised himself by sleeping the night away as well. Although grateful for the time to set things up, Claire still took the opportunity to thoroughly chasten him when he woke next for pushing his body past it's breaking point.
"I did it, didn't I?" Darien sleepily replied, his words punctuated by a yawn. He sat up, grimacing as his limbs protested the movement. Except for the pain in his right ankle, which had sprained, for the most part, he no longer felt as sore, just extremely stiff. It took him a bit to reorient his muddled mind and after much careful stretching, he set about changing and packing, the feeling of excitement growing as he woke.
Despite Darien's objections, Claire helped him changed, pulling a white T-shirt over his head effectively muffling any immediate protests. Darien tasted cotton before the shirt was settle on him and stated to her, "I'm doing fine! Don't you think this is a little inappropriate?" He testily commented.
"I'm your doctor," Claire said nonchalantly by way of excuse. Darien would have given her some sort of sarcastic remark but at the moment she had curiously picked up the book Tiffany had given him and was about to open the cover when he reached over and snatched it from her hand. He quickly stuffed it in his bag and zipping it closed tried to stand. Apparently the strain he had put on his limbs the day previous was still effecting him, because not even a second later, Darien sat back down.
Claire shook her head, her lips pursed in a thin smile as he glared at her just daring her to chasten him again. "I'm know you're impatient Darien, but why don't you give it a few minutes, Bobby will be here soon, and I'm sure you won't object to his help!" She stated smartly.
"You'd want out of here too, if you were stuck in the same room day in and day out. It's enough to drive a person insane!" Darien commented seriously.
Claire opened her mouth to comment but just then the door opened and Hobbes stepped in. "Bobby Hobbes is here, my friend!" He announced with a flourishing smile.
"Finally!" Darien immediately tried to stand again. Hobbes and the Keeper jumped forward to keep him from falling. In the end, it took both Claire and Bobby, and between them all but carrying Darien to get him down to the car.
They took him directly to the Agency's Office. Bobby helped Darien get down to the Keep but right after said he had to leave.
"You on a case?" Darien quickly asked as he sat awkwardly on the dentist chair, it was more uncomfortable than the hospital bed had been.
"Ya, partner," Hobbes said and shrugging turned to leave without giving any details.
"Wait! Come on, man, what's going on?" Darien asked before Bobby could leave.
Smirking good natured, the older agent told him, "Nope, sorry. No can do. You're assigned to rest and relaxation, remember?" He stated.
"Just because I can't go with you, doesn't mean we can't talk about it. I might have some insight into the situation. How many times have I come up with something that was right on the money! Uh?"
Hobbes shook his head again and told him sidestepping the issue, "I'll check in on ya later, Kid." Then he left.
Darien sighed a little frustrated. The fact that bobby didn't want to talk to him bugged him. They made it seem like they were just protecting him, but protecting him from what? His mind replayed the small conversation he'd had the day before. He could only think of two people who wanted him, and Claire and said it wasn't Arnaud, so that left Chrysalis, but how many times had Allianora said that if Chrysalis wanted him dead, he would be dead. No, that didn't make any sense.
He looked around the Keep still frustrated and more than a little bored. Keeper already had her lab coat on and was bent over a microscope in full scientist mode. Her counter was more covered than usual, and several vials were labeled and hanging on stands. A few were semitransparent of various colors, but others were dark red and opaque, like blood.
"So, Keepie? What'cha you doing?" Darien asked.
Claire absently replied, "An analysis."
"On what?"
"Samples." She switched her slid for another she had already prepared and jotted down some notes in a near by book.
"Of?" Darien drawled out.
"Things."
Darien made a face and growled out, "Okay, can we say conspiracy here?! What's going on Claire?"
The keeper looked up from the microscope and regarded Darien as she thoughtfully bit the corner of her lip. "Alright," she told him walking over to where he sat. "They're samples of some rats that died, I'm trying to figure out why." Darien looked at her stricken. Sighing she added, "I didn't want to tell you because I knew you'd react, well, like that!" She stated gesturing to him.
"Well, what about Hobbes? What's he working on?" Darien persisted.
Claire shook her head and shrugged. "I don't know. That's between him and the Official. Hobbes probably just doesn't want you to do something stupid, like want to go with him. You're off active duty, remember? And if you keep pushing yourself faster than you should, you're going to do more damage then good!"
"Slow and easy, uh?" Darien grumbled. He couldn't deny that his body still ached and didn't respond very well, but his restlessness was far more prominent in his mind.
As if sensing this, Claire grabbed up a nearby instrument and stated briskly, "Since you're here, we might as well take a look at the gland and see how it's doing."
Darien spent the next hour being probed and tested. Then after that, trying to turn invisible. Claire told him to relax, to focus on the feelings he'd felt when he did it a few days ago.
"What? Like fear?" Darien asked dubious.
"If that's what it takes."
Darien concentrated hard, so hard his head throbbed. But after several failures, he finally felt the trickle of silver crawl across his arm. It crumbled away not even a second after the silvery threads had appeared. Darien scowled at his arm despairingly, but Claire seemed pleased and encouraged him to keep working at it.
Thirty minutes later Darien succeeded in quicksilvering his entire body, although he couldn't hold it, but Claire told him that he'd improve quickly.
"I don't think you've fully forgotten how to control you quicksilver, I think you just need to get used to it again," she told him in earnest.
"Ya ya," Darien mumbled closing his eyes trying to relax. He felt tired, and his head hurt now. He didn't even notice as Claire once again returned to her samples and analysis.
Sighing softly, he looked up, the words he was going to say paused on his lips as he realized Claire was back at her microscope and he quickly looked around for something to occupy his attention. That's when he realized his bag wasn't there, it must have been left in the car. And the book was in the bag. Crap.
The afternoon dragged slowly by. When night finally came around, and Bobby showed up, Claire was about ready to kick Darien out.
He hadn't stopped asking questions all afternoon. And if he wasn't asking questions he was trying half successfully to move around the Keep poking and prying at her stuff. He had inadvertently contaminated more than half her samples at one point or another, to the degree that she had threatened to confine him to the chair if he didn't stop touching things.
"I'm just trying to follow your example, there, Keepie." Darien told her as he picked up her science notebook.
"Oh? What example is that?" She asked tartly before snatching the notebook out of his hands before he could read any of it.
He leaned against the counter amiably saying, "You know, how to be a good top secret scientist."
She pushed him over a little, worriedly once again moving the nearest vials further out of the way.
"Did I miss something?" Hobbes asked with a grin from the doorway.
"Hobbes! My man!" Darien's face broke out into a wide smile.
"You ready to go, buddy?" Hobbes asked.
It was Claire who answered. "Yes, please! Take him away from here!"
"Hey!" Darien protested, but just as eager to leave stumbled to the chair.
Smirking widely, Bobby put a large brown paper bag he'd been carrying next to the Keeper on the counter. "Thanks, Bobby," She said but didn't touch the bag.
"What's that?" Darien asked curiously as Bobby stepped over to him to give him a shoulder to lean on.
"It's gourmet food, something you'd know nothing about, my friend!" Bobby stated.
"Ha, I bet I cook far better than you do," Darien protested as they began to make their way out of the Keep. "Speaking of food, what are we eating?" Darien asked before his stomach could betray him.
"Hotdogs."
"Hotdogs?"
Claire watched them leave, then let out a small sigh of relief. Looking around she realized she still had a fair amount of work to do, but their talk of food reminded her just how long it'd been since she'd eaten herself. Moving over to the fridge she reached in and pulled out some leftovers from the day before.
Idly consuming the pickled rice, she quickly laid out the tasks for the night in her mind. Then once she had satisfied her hunger, Claire purposely walked to where the brown paper bag sat, intent upon its contents.
Darien adamantly detested how quickly his body wore out. With an exasperated sigh he stretched out on Bobby's couch. His bones felt like they were aching they were so tired, but his mind was wide-awake. "Hey, could you pass me my bag?" Darien asked when he saw it lying next to the kitchen counter.
Bobby picked it up and unceremoniously dumped it on Darien lap before he vanished into his room. Darien had just retrieved his book when Bobby reappeared looking more casual than he often did with his suit jacket on. "What's that?" Bobby questioned and took the book from Darien's hand before his partner could reply. "Zib..gin...ew? Zib..zeb...new?" He stammered trying to pronounce the writer's name.
"Zbigniew Herbert," Darien stated as he snatched the book back. He honestly didn't know if he was pronouncing it correctly either, but he wasn't about to let Hobbes know that. Eagerly he opened the book and quickly found where he had left off.
"Are you going to read that all night?" Hobbes asked with a small frown as he watched his partner get comfortable.
"It won't take me all night." Darien replied. It wasn't that thick of a book, and he did do a lot of reading. He looked up at Bobby. "Do you have something else in mind?"
Hobbes shrugged. "No not really." The man began to pace a little, he found a football and tossed it back and forth in his hands.
Darien watched him move with some amusement. He knew Hobbes hated standing still, and amazed at the amount of knowledge Hobbes seemed to have, Darien knew reading was against the man's ethics! Still, they had only just gotten there, and even Bobby wasn't known to get restless this fast endless something was on his mind. Not that Darien hadn't been restless all day, so he knew how his partner felt. With a sudden thought, Darien asked. "Is there a game on tonight?"
"Yes." The response was automatic, and as if Darien's question gave Bobby permission, the smaller man grabbed the remote and made a motion to Darien to make some room on the couch.
Darien half-laughed and half sighed as he shifted so his legs were propped up on the coffee table, and then again when Bobby complained, half over the arm of the couch. They settled into the evening like that, each content in their own world while commenting on the other's.
Grateful, although he had protested from habit, Darien sank sleepily into the mattress of Hobbes' bed. Bobby had convinced him he'd rather the couch, although Darien had only let him on the pretense that he'd take the couch the next night.
"Don't you know it!" Bobby had stated, although Darien had an idea his partner would come up with another excuse the next night anyway. It still annoyed Darien that they were being so protective of him, he was getting better after all, and he wasn't a kid or anything, he could take care of himself. Well, almost, but soon completely, he reaffirmed in his mind.
It didn't take him long to fall asleep in the silence and dim lights of night. The shadows seemed to blend into each other till the dreams took over.
He was once again in a room, he could feel the walls around him, surrounding him in their confines, but it was black there. No matter what way he turned there was nothing. A scream broke the silence, and with it came the voices. They were like knives in his ears, Darien cried out and clutched at his head trying to get them to leave.
The piercing sounds reverberated off the unseen walls, increasing in volume and intensity with every echo. They made no sense! Twisting, desperate for a way out Darien spotted the small light and was instantly mesmerized. Yet he didn't reach out for it this time. He could still feel its heat washing over him, even from several feet away.
The voices seemed to ease, or they grew so intense they became part of the background, Darien wasn't sure, and frankly, he didn't care. The world was becoming numb as he stared at the spot of light, then slowly, very slowly, it began to grow in the black nothingness till it became a small window like a window out of this black box he was confined in.
There was something on the other side of the window, no, someone. Darien couldn't move, he couldn't react, he could only stare, as he gazed into the pain filled eyes of his partner.
"Darien!" Hobbes shook the twitching man.
Darien came awake instantly, but upon seeing Hobbes' expression couldn't restrain his alarmed exclamation and reactively pushed himself back against the head board before he realized he was awake.
Even then it was near impossible to shake the dream from his mind for the expression Hobbes now showed Darien was the same as it had been in the dream. Pain, guilt, shame. And then it was gone and Hobbes gruffly told him, "You were calling out in your sleep. Having a nightmare?"
"Ya," Darien replied numbly, then shaking himself added, "Sorry man, didn't mean to wake you."
Bobby softly grinned. "No problem Kid. It's what I'm here for."
Darien returned the grinned. "You never sleep anyway," he joked trying just as hard to breach the awkwardness between them.
His smile widening, Bobby headed back for the door and stated sounding like his usual self, "That's right! Cause I have a life!" With quick goodnights exchanged, the lights were turned off and Darien was left alone in the dark again, but he didn't go back to sleep. He couldn't quite shake the dream, the horror that he'd beheld on his partner's face, the pain he felt inside himself.
*****
When Bobby and Darien arrived at the Keep late the next morning they brought with them breakfast for themselves and Claire to eat there.
"You didn't make this, did you?" Claire asked suspiciously as she eyed the wrapped breakfast crapes.
"No, the deli down the street did," Hobbes reassured her.
Darien swallowed a large bite off of his as he gazed around the lab, his keen eyes picking up on the subtle changes, and inconsistencies. He turned to the Keeper frowning as she idly picked at her crepe, picking out pieces she apparently didn't like. "Claire? Did you go home at all last night?"
"Oh? Why do you ask that?" She murmured, consumed with the crepe till she was satisfied with its content.
"Oh, no reason," Darien began. "It's just that everything on your counter has changed, those vials you were working from yesterday are now half empty and you're still wearing the same clothes." He shrugged nonchalantly.
Keeper looked down at herself startled as if the thought to change hadn't crossed her mind even as Hobbes grumbled through a mouthful of food, "He's got a point, Keepie."
"Well," She replied tartly, "with all the distractions yesterday I had to get my work done sometime!"
"Ouch..." Claire was quick to discipline, but she wasn't really annoyed, and soon the three were engage in harmless talk as they finished their quick breakfast. The phone rang in the Keep to which Bobby answered and after a pause and a 'yes, sir' quickly hung up. "I've got to go see the Fat Man. I'll see you later, partner. Claire." he told them heading for the door.
"Bobby," the Keeper called out before he could disappear. "I'm going to take Darien over to my place if you need us." Darien instantly perked up. A day stuck in the Keep had been one day too many. "There's more room over there for him to work out," She commented. "Not to mention I need to change." She added with a small side glare and twitch of her lips.
Bobby grinned. "Sure, Keepie, I'll see you guys later." Then he was out the door.
It was almost noon by the time Darien and Keeper finally pulled up into her driveway. Every time they were about to leave, Claire had remembered something else she needed to 'quickly' do.
Darien was pleased, he'd made it from the car to the door without any help. He'd woken with stiff joints, but they actually were beginning to loosen up and move more or less in a more orderly fashion. He his ankle didn't hurt so bad.
He was almost bowled over as Claire's dog, Pavlov, greeted them excitedly as the door opened. "Pavlov!" Claire called before the dog could run out in his excitement. There was no chance of that as the light tan and gray Chinese Crested Powderpuff followed at their ankles, jumping up and barking ecstatically.
"Wow." Darien leaned against the wall before he lost his balance and Claire scooped her canine friend up into her arms saving Darien from any more trip hazards. Pavlov's head still craned around his owner's shoulder staring at Darien his tongue lolling out in contented pleasure.
Darien grinned and making his way past Claire scratched the dog between the ears. "Why don't you sit down on the couch Darien," the Keeper told him. "Do want anything to drink?"
"Nah, thanks," he replied, but on the way to the couch he noticed his rat cage against the hallway wall, empty. A worn textbook was haphazardly on the floor next to it. "Um, Claire? Where's my rat?"
Claire peered over the counter divider, and looking at her dog accusingly scolded, "Pavlov!" The dog licked her face with an all too innocent expression. "What have I told you about letting Darien out?" Claire continued to the dog trying not to give in, but after a second let out an exasperated sigh and drawled out resignedly, "okay." She put the dog down giving him a stern command. "Pavlov, go get Darien."
The dog immediately took off up the stairs. Darien watched with a mixture of intrigue, concern, and a pained expression on his face. "Um, Claire?"
She raised a hand to stall him, her lips curling in amusement. "No, hold on. You'll see."
Sure enough, a minute later, Pavlov returned eagerly coming to sit in front of Claire as if waiting for a treat. Darien looked over at the stairs, surprised to watch as his rat slowly skidded down to the floor as well and running over joined Pavlov at Claire's feet.
"Good boy, Pavlov. Good boy, Darien." The keeper congratulated them and pulling out two small dog treats gave one to each of the animals. Where Pavlov swallowed his on the spot, Darien the rat stuffed the oversized morsel into his mouth and beelined it for the stairs. Claire frowned. "I suppose he's going to go borrow into my closet again," she mused. "Oh well." She began making herself a cold drink.
Darien was beside himself. "Claire, what the hell have you been giving my rat?!" Darien demanded, leaning against the counter where he could glare at her better.
Her lips twitched, but she said completely serious, "just a harmless enzyme. I've given it to plenty of rats before, it hasn't harmed him in any way. In fact, it prolongs life and increases their intelligence."
"Uhuh...and you don't think you should have asked before you started this?" Darien accused, still worried. There was a reason he broke that rat out of her lab in the first place.
"You were in a coma at the time," She said simply, then taking a sip ordered, "show me how far you've come with your quicksilvering exercises."
Darien had to force himself to put the issue aside enough to focus in order to quicksilver any part of him. Sadly, like the day before, he managed to cover his body with the silvery substance, but the second he lost his thought it flaked off. Still, it came quicker than before, so that was some improvement.
Claire took at look at the half-filled tattoo and told him to wait till the next day to continue practice. "It wouldn't do to have you go mad now, especially here. I don't want to chance it." She told him sternly, and added to distract him, "Why don't you start stretching down here," she put a little emphasis on her last two words and finished, "while I go take a quick shower and change."
Then she disappeared up the stairs as fast as the rat had before Darien could put out any protests. Sighing resigned, Darien made himself comfortable on the floor in the living room and began stretching. After he managed to knead out some of the stiffer joints, the stretching actually was beginning to feel good. It would still be a while before he could do a normal full workout like he used to, but the fact that he'd managed to stay limber was high encouragement, especially for someone at tall and lanky as himself.
He was disrupted out of his peace by a loud knock at the door. Darien groaned and using the couch for help managed to pull himself to his feet just as Claire came down the stairs. Her hair was still damp but she was washed and dressed. Pavlov was barking frantically at the door. "Pavlov, quiet," Claire order, but the dog ignored her and when she opened the door Darien saw Claire suddenly back up in alarm.
At the same time the sharp sounds of heavy glass shattering attracted everyone's attention. A man in military fatigues stepped through the remains of the back glass door, his gun point raised at Darien. One similarly garbed had come through the front door his gun trained on Claire, Pavlov still barking at his heels.
Darien felt shivers run up his spine, he knew these people, from the night before...his mind felt like fog as he tried to remember exactly where, at a fort of some sort, an abandoned fort.
"Well," The man next to Claire drawled out, looking over to Darien with hungry malice. "Isn't this nice, I never thought we'd ever catch up to you," he stated in a gruff voice, pending a cough. His face look pale and drawn, his skin sunken in making his natural brawn features look more demonesque.
"I don't know what you intend to accomplish by this," Claire began with an amazing amount of venomous to her voice. The man gave her little pause and swiftly raising his gun cracked it hard against her skull. She crumpled to the floor unconscious, a trickle of red running through her hair.
"Claire!" Darien immediately jumped forward but the man behind him grabbed him ruffly by the shoulder and forced him to his knees in a painful grimace. He glanced worriedly at Claire only a foot away but was unable to reach her with the man still holding him. He swallowed as he felt the warning of the cold metal point against his neck. "Look, what do you want?" Darien growled out looking up into the eyes of the man who'd struck Claire. Looking into those ravenous eyes brought with it glimpses of his memory, pieces that didn't make sense, pieces that he didn't even know where missing.
The man grinned evilly down at Darien and would have answered, but after Claire had been hit Pavlov had taken a more offensive stance and with angry snarls was trying to nip at the man's ankles. The man kicked back angrily but the dog only jumped forward again. Increasingly annoyed the man pointed his gun at the little dog.
"No!" Darien cried out and yelled the first command that came to mind. "Pavlov, go get Darien!" The dog stopped what he was doing looking at Darien with a hesitant bark but obediently turned and headed up the stairs.
"Cute," The man gruffly stated with a sneer, then turning his attention back to Darien told him coldly, "But you can't save yourself so easily." He pointed the gun down at Darien who stared steadfastly back feeling the cold of death on his doorstep.
"No, that's what his partner's for!" A voice suddenly stated from the front door. The small distraction was enough for the man's grip on Darien's shoulder to lessen and Darien seeing the opportunity slipped free immediately falling to the floor next to Claire to get as low as possible. He heard three crisp clear shots ring out about his head. Two landed in the chest of the man who had threatened him, and the third into the man behind him. They never had time to react before Bobby's bullets torn through them.
Darien grimaced when he felt the wetness of blood splatter his cheek, but sighed with relief when he looked up to see Hobbes walking up to them holstering his gun. The two attackers lay prone on the floor, deep pools of red beginning to encompass their torsos. "Nice timing, partner." Darien said with a hesitant smile.
Claire groaned, also sitting up as her hand reactively went to the cut on her head. The gunshot had been loud enough to rouse her from her unconsciousness, and now she looked around despairingly at her bloodied hallway. "Did you have to kill them here?" She groggily groused.
"Would you rather me let them kill you?" Bobby asked good-natured, then helped her and Darien to get to their feet.
Pavlov came pelting back down the stairs. Spying them Claire quickly stated as she steadied herself against the counter. "Bobby, will you grab them, please. I don't want them getting infected."
"Them?" Bobby inquired, picking up the squirming dog, and then jumped back slightly to see the rat heading down the stairs as well. "Wow! Keepie, you've got a rodent infestation!"
"It's my rat!" Darien glowered. "Hey, who were these guys? And what do you mean infected?" He asked.
Hobbes awkwardly held both squirming animals till he spotted the cage and after checking to make sure it was still clean, quickly deposited the rat inside. "There, stay!" He told the rat closing the lid and then turning a grim face to Darien to answer his question. "These guys were the last of the rogue black ops group we've been tracking down for the last month and a half." Bobby hesitated slightly then said, "They had stolen four canisters of experimental fuel, which we've now recovered."
"Experimental fuel...the radioactive chemical I was expose to." More pieces seemed to be falling into place. He still couldn't remember exactly what happened, but part of him seemed to remember the faces at the fort they had infiltrated. Like glimpses of a movie reel it was beginning to make sense. "And they're infected too?"
Bobby and Claire had been watching him with worried eyes, they exchanged a look, and Claire carefully replied, "Yes. One of the canisters they had with them had a leak, I've been working on a finding a cure to the poison."
"But, it's over now, right? The bad guys are dead, we can all go back to our normal lives?" Darien quickly asked.
Hobbes adamantly said, "Yes," even as Claire stated, "No."
"No? Yes? Which is it?"
Bobby gave Claire what could only be construed as a warning look which the Keeper agitatedly shook off. "Darien. They weren't the only ones infected, anyone they came in contact with were also infected."
"But that would mean, you guys..." His voice trailed off.
"It's alright," the Keeper quickly reassured him. "Last night I was able to find the antidote that I need."
"From the blood samples," Darien stated in a matter of fact tone of voice. He was having a hard time swallowing all this information. So what were they saying, a plague had nearly or had broken out thanks to all this, and they thought, what, that they could keep him in the dark?
Hobbes frowned deeply, seeing the anxiety on his partners face and sternly told him, "You don't need to worry about any of this, partner. We've got it completely under control. Your only concern should be yourself!"
"And what about you?" Darien automatically spat back.
"You let Bobby Hobbes, worry about Bobby Hobbes, my friend!"
"Bobby's right," Claire told him seriously. "You've been through enough." Yet it wasn't the most he was going to go through that day. They had to call in a HazMat team and sterilize everything and everyone. Claire took fresh samples from both the living and the dead, but pronounced later that day that they would be fine. Her new serum was doing its trick and they were all given a clean bill of health.
The Official didn't seem pleased that Darien had found out, but he seemed content that the last of the rouge agents had been killed. He and Claire both wanted Darien to stay with Bobby and Claire at all times for a few more days. "At least until you've control of yourself again!" He gruffly ordered.
Darien had willing agreed, anything to get out of that place.
He crashed exhausted onto Bobby's couch. "So, what do you want to do?" Darien asked the man as if nothing of that day had even happened. Personally he really just wanted to forget it did. Images were still plaguing his mind and he couldn't shake the feeling there was still something he was missing.
Hobbes, as if reading Darien's mind, had seemed just as preoccupied with his thoughts. He shrugged, "There's usually a good late night movie on somewhere."
"Great, you make the popcorn!" Darien quickly agreed reaching for the remote. He turned it on flipping through several channels before he finally just hit mute and gazed over the back of the couch at Bobby. The question fell into place in his mind and he finally voiced, "Hey Hobbes, that one guy, he wanted to kill me, why?"
Bobby closed the microwave door and hit the appropriate buttons giving himself an extra second to think before he turned to Darien and solemnly replied. "His name is Bradley, he was the one in charge of the raid. Over a month ago, when we were in that fort and the canister split open, you weren't the only exposed, Bradley's brother was also there. He didn't survive."
The silence spaned the few minutes it took the popcorn to pop. "Hey, thanks," Darien lamely added.
Hobbes was quick to change the subject. "Hey is that Molly Ringwald? I love this movie!" Bobby settled on the couch, popcorn bowl in hand.
Darien looked at the screen to see what he had turned to. A scene was playing itself out in a half-built car between a high school girl and some freshman nerd in braces. Bobby turned the mute off. The geeky kid was talking "-Can I borrow your underpants for ten minutes?"
Darien raised his eyebrows questioningly at his partner, but Hobbes was already fully engrossed in the movie.
That night Bobby once again took the couch despite Darien's protests. Darien lay awake listening to the night sounds, he could feel the weariness encircling him like a shroud, but he fought it, he didn't want to sleep. He knew the dream would return, the dream of the black box he knew he was still trapped inside. Yet despite how much he fought it, the black of sleep still succeeded.
Bobby listen silently as Darien's breathing at last turned rhythmic. Hobbes sighed softly, his own mind haunted. Closing his eyes his mind automatically traveled back to the night it happened, to the night this mess began.
The screams echoed through his mind like knives on a chalkboard. He had heard the sounds, knew Darien had gone ahead invisible, and he knew exactly what must of happened. Tears unbidden welled up in the man's eyes as his mind replayed the awful scene. He had been trained for the scenario countless times, in every faction he had worked for. Sacrifice the one to save the many. Yet no matter how many time Bobby told himself that, he still couldn't believe he had done it. He'd sacrifice himself a hundred times over for his country, for his friends, but never again would he do what he did.
He let out a slow breath, he could hear Darien murmuring in his sleep again. Bobby could only imagine what Darien was dreaming about, but he didn't think he'd be so far off the mark if he had to give a guess.
Bobby had sealed the door on Darien's fait, on his very life, and only the greatest miracle had prevented Hobbes from loosing the greatest friend he'd ever had. He would give his life a hundred times over to take that day back.
"I remember once hearing Martin Luther King, Jr. saying that 'Darkness cannot drive out darkness.' Well, it sure can numb the pain, my friend."