AN: I forgot the disclaimer on part one so here it is now. I will be updating this everyday so it won't take long for the whole thing to be up. I hope you are enjoying it.
Disclaimer: They aren't mine. I'll put them back when I'm done.
He had not meant to stare but it was hard not too. It had only been a few months so he still wasn't used to seeing his partner like this. Pausing in the doorway, he looked over the place. Darien was seated in the living room of the small two-bedroom house. The living room consisted of a couch and a mismatched chair. The kitchen and dining room were separated from the living room by a bar that had no stools. The dining room table did not match its chairs nor did the chairs match each other. The house was very obviously furnished by the agency but it suited Darien's needs. Hobbes turned his attention to Darien. He was dressed in a pair of black shorts with a gray shirt. His hair was short again like it had been when he first started work at the Agency. He did not care what it looked like now so Mike kept it short. He looked almost normal until he turned those dead brown eyes in Hobbes' direction. Those eyes sent a cold chill down Hobbes' spine every time. It was worse than the silver ones or the milky white from the last time Fawkes had been blind. The sound of keys in the doorway startled him and he backed away from door before it could open and hit him.
"Oops, sorry, Bobby," stated Michael Smith as he carried a load of groceries into the house. "I didn't know you were there."
"Not a problem. Here. Let me help you with those." Hobbes liked Mike. The huge black man served as Darien's bodyguard and nurse. He genuinely cared about Darien's well being unlike most of the people on the Agency's payroll.
"Bad visit?" he asked after a glance at Darien.
"Yeah. How have things been with you, Mike?"
"Not too bad." He began unloading the bags mouthing the words- we'll talk outside- to Hobbes. Nodding his understanding, Hobbes began putting things away. Soon everything was in its place and the two grabbed a beer from the refrigerator and headed outside to sit on the front stoop.
"So what's the deal?" asked Hobbes as soon as the door was shut.
"What happened between you two today?"
"Nothing. He seemed really happy to see me…so to speak. We were talking about my new partner and how things just weren't the same without him. Then he got mad at me. Told me he didn't want my pity and told me to leave. That's about where you came in." Hobbes sighed and rubbed his face. "I try not to stare at him. I try not to pity him. I just can't stand to see him like this."
"He's not going to get any better. He needs you as a friend but even more than he needs that he needs you to accept him as he is now. Perhaps you should take some time to think this over." Mike looked down at the shorter man beside him taking a long swallow from his cold beer.
"What else is wrong? This is about more than him kicking me out." Hobbes watched Mike's face carefully reading him.
"He's not eating again," answered Mike looking down at the steps.
"Damn it! How long?"
"I've gotten him to eat one bowl of soup in two days. Look, he's due in for some more tests the day after tomorrow. If he's not eating by then, I'll have Claire give him something."
"He can't just stop eating whenever he gets upset. We can't keep putting him on a feeding tube."
"I know that. You know that. Hell, even HE knows that. As long as the chemicals in his brain are messed up and keeping the hypothalamus from working right, he's not going to get hungry and it's just really easy for him to not eat."
"It all comes back to the gland. They still haven't figured what went wrong with the removal and they want to turn around and put a new one into the next poor fool." Mike looked at him sharply.
"You're kidding!"
"I wish I was," sighed Hobbes. "They'll probably want me to partner with him."
"Half of Darien's problems are a result of cutting off the supply of quicksilver and counteragent after prolonged exposure. They need to be finding out how long is too long and how to reverse the effects, not putting it into someone new. If it wasn't for Darien, I'd walk. I don't want to be on the payroll of a group that does things like that."
"Yeah, well, some of us have to take what we can get."
"I'm sorry, Bobby. I didn't mean it like that." Mike was truly apologetic.
"Hey, man, it's OK." Hobbes took a last swallow of beer and set the empty bottle down beside him. "I think I'm going to be heading out. I'll stop by tomorrow."
"Yeah, I'm going to have go try to make Fawkes eat," answered Mike getting up from his seat on the dusty step. He watched Hobbes drive off before going back into the house.