Laughing as I Pray
By: Bre the Cheez
Rating: 'R' for language and dark content.
Disclaimer: I don't own 'The Invisible Man', nor have I ever or claim to, I'm just borrowing them.
Summary: Darien only wants his freedom back… ((Semi-futuristic, and rated for language and dark content.))
Author's Note: I'm not exactly sure where this came from, but it's really different from the majority of my other stories. Keep an open mind, and tell me what you think. No flames please, only constructive criticism.
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The rain fell down from the sky harder than it had as long as Darien Fawkes could remember. He squinted his eyes to be able to see through the tons of water coming down on him, soaking his body. It was already cold outside, and the rain forced Darien to shiver, despite the jacket on top of his sweater. He didn't mind, though, and sighed, enjoying the numbness provided by the cold.
He stood on the edge of a cliff, just watching drop after drop hit his outstretched palm, and bouncing off, the impact almost stinging his flesh. He gave a small smile, just taking in the view. There was nothing for miles around, and the solitude gave Darien a strange sense of satisfaction, for once pleased to be alone.
So much had happened in the last year and a half, and sometimes it all became too much to bear. He had been arrested, and even though it had been Hell in there, knowing that he would never be able to leave again, he sometimes wished he had those days back again. Those were the days before Kevin died.
Kevin and him hadn't really gotten along very well growing up, maybe it was jealousy, but mostly it was Darien's rebellious attitude towards everything. It was that attitude that had brought him to the cliff today. He was tired of working at The Agency, playing their lab rat, as if he meant nothing to them except that he was their science project. Yeah, that hurt sometimes, but not so much as the feeling that came with loneliness. He had no one.
He didn't want friends so much as freedom, however, and working at The Agency declined him of that luxury, something Darien used to take for granted everyday. He was never going to get that, though, not as long as the gland was in his head. He used to have hope, then the "accident" happened. At least that's what The Official was calling it. Now there was no hope at all, no one that knew how, or could figure out how to take The Gland out of his head.
Darien stood on the edge of the cliff, staring down into the vast nothingness that waited below him, followed by piles of rocks, seemingly eager for someone to fall. They were calling to him, he could hear their voices beckoning him to jump. He ignored them, and bent down to pick up a half-empty bottle. He took a drink from it, sadness evident in his dark eyes, and didn't stop until the bottle was empty. He took a deep breath, and slowly let it out, letting the alcohol run down his throat and warm his body. Then, grabbing the bottle by the neck, he pitched it as far as he could, never hearing it hit the ground.
He looked after it, wondering how far it got, and wishing that he could just get away from everything. Unfortunately, they would find him no matter where he went, and they would drag him back, kicking and screaming, and most likely dock his pay for the rebellion.
"Goddamn slave-driver," he muttered to himself, feeling hatred build toward The Official, his boss. He angrily threw a rock after the bottle, and then he fell to his knees, on the verge of tears. He had wanted so many times to just end it and he had come out here at midnight the last couple days, just contemplating what he wanted to do, or what he should do. He concluded very early on that this was wrong for so many reasons, but maybe that's what made him want it so bad. Not to mention the things he had done… To his best friends nonetheless.
Darien sighed. "Things are never easy, are they?" Finally he decided he wanted to make his own decisions. He didn't want to worry whether or not he would get punished for the choice, or go Quicksilver Mad.
QSM. He really hated that. He wasn't in control of his actions, and as a result he'd hurt people he had cared about. In fact, he had hurt a couple people. He had put Claire in a coma during one of his QSM fits, and she had died a couple days later, and had killed Hobbes. It wasn't a pretty site, and luckily he couldn't remember everything that had went on. And he didn't want to think about it. His best friends…
Darien turned his head as if that would make the memories go away. But images of the gruesome murder of his best friend kept coming back in his mind. There had been knives, and lots of blood, so much blood. He remembered being hesitant to hurt Hobbes, even though his mind was being controlled by that demon that came from The Gland. But Hobbes wouldn't leave, he kept trying to help his partner, even though he knew that there was no stopping him.
He remembered now. He was trying to go after Arnaud, all anger directed at the Swiss bastard, but when Hobbes wouldn't allow him to even get out of the apartment, he had mistakenly taken the anger out on his friend, and the result was lying six feet under, next to Darien's brother.
Hot tears began to fall down Darien's cheek, and he tried to fight them but realized he felt too weak to care anymore. There was nothing left for him. The Official had made him continue working at The Agency, even though he knew he wouldn't be able to do it anymore, his depression was too much to handle. He didn't want to live with all that guilt.
Darien looked ahead, eyes barely blinking, ideas forming in his head. He felt as though everything was happening in slow motion, a determined, yet sad smile started to grow, and he stood up, clumsily walking to the edge of the cliff. He looked down, forgetting about the rain falling all around him.
"I'm sorry you guys," he whispered, the words being carried with the wind. He thought about Kevin, and Hobbes and Claire, then he turned his back to the cliff. He crossed his arms across his chest, and let himself fall. Wind rushed past him, and he thought he could feel the rain stop, but he couldn't be sure anymore. Darien let his arms out to his sides, and just fell, not feeling the dread he thought he would when he was younger. All the pain and guilt he had endured would finally be over. He closed his eyes and smiled.
*~fin~*