DS#9 A Life for a Life (9/10)
By Carol M.
Yada yada yada, on with the story…
"Come on, Fawkes, easy does it. I got ya, partner," said Bobby as he struggled to get Darien up the flight of stairs to Darien and Claire's apartment.
"Bobby, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you," mumbled Darien, in a half-asleep trance.
"I know you didn't, D. This isn't your fault," said Bobby as he got Darien up the stairs and to the door of the apartment. He leaned Darien against the wall and pounded on the door. "Keep, open up, I got someone you might want to see here!" yelled Bobby.
The door opened quickly, revealing a very anxious Claire and a frazzled looking Eberts. Claire peeked her head out the door and spotted Darien, who was barely able to stand on his own. "Oh, Darien," she said as she stepped to him and caressed his cheek. She looked back at Bobby and Eberts. "Help me get him into bed," said Claire.
Bobby and Eberts instantly complied and each grabbed Darien's arms. They carefully dragged him into the apartment and placed him gently on the bed. "Eberts, get me my medical bag!" said Claire urgently as she checked Darien over.
"Darien, can you hear me?" she asked as she examined an old bruise on his forehead.
Darien opened his eyes into tiny slits. "I'm sorry," he said softly.
Bobby stepped next to Claire and looked at his partner with concern. "He's been saying that since we found him; over and over again like a freakin broken record or something."
"Bobby's he's been through a terrible shock," she said as she tried to ignore the awful look of sadness in her husband's eyes. She took a deep breath, trying for a few moments to ignore her personal relationship with Darien and treat him with some detachment. "God, it doesn't look like he's eaten in two weeks," said Claire as she noted Darien's sunken face. She ran her hands down his chest, noticed his ribs felt even more pronounced then usual. "Eberts, the bag," she said again.
Eberts came up next to her and set the medical bag on the bed. Claire reached in and pulled out an I.V. line. She took out a needle and as gently as possible, inserted the needle into Darien's arm. Then she hooked the I.V. into the needle.
"What can I do?" asked Bobby.
"Eberts brought some I.V. bags over. They're in the fridge, can you get them?" she asked.
"No problem, Keep," he said as he quickly got up and ran into the kitchen.
Claire rubbed Darien on the cheek. "Darien, look at me," she said.
Darien raised his eyes, eyeing her in a slight panic.
"Darien, I'm not going to hurt you, okay. I need to get some nutrients into you because you're slightly malnourished," she said.
Darien nodded slightly and held out his arms, wanting a hug.
Claire ignored the tears sprouting from her eyes and leaned down into her husband, giving him the tightest hug possible. She held him there for several long seconds, wanting to comfort him and heal him and get him through this mess with one touch. She could feel his body shaking, and she knew that he was crying. She backed out of the hug and wiped at his eyes. "Darien, it's okay. Everything's going to fine, I promise."
"No, it's not," she heard him say softly. She glanced back at Bobby and Eberts, her look begging for privacy.
Bobby set the I.V. bags on the bed and then grabbed Eberts. "Come on, Eberts, we're gonna go for a little walk."
"Robert, do you really think it's such a good idea to leave them?" asked Eberts.
"Shut up, Eberts, let's go," said Bobby as he practically shoved Eberts out the door.
Claire looked back at Darien, tears free falling down her own face. "Darien…"
"It's not, Claire. I killed someone in cold blood. I nearly killed Bobby. I don't know if I can…I'm a monster," sobbed Darien.
Claire leaned down and pulled him into a hug again. "You're not a monster. None of that was your fault Darien. When's the last time you were in Stage Five, huh?"
"Three years ago," answered Darien.
"Exactly. Before this, how many people have you killed that wasn't done in self-defense?" asked Claire.
"None," said Darien.
"Okay then. This wasn't your fault. This was someone using you to do their dirty work for them. I will not let you blame yourself for this, okay. Bobby sure as hell doesn't blame you. He didn't even get upset when you shot him. He was just worried about you," said Claire against Darien's quaking chest. She looked up at his eyes and attempted to smile. "I love you. I love you more than any other person in my whole life. I will not stand by while you let son of a bitch destroy you. You're better than that, and you're sure as hell more stubborn!"
Darien shook his head sadly. "I can't," he sobbed.
Claire held him tighter, raising her head so she could kiss him on the lips. "Yes you can," she murmured against his lips.
He kissed her back softly and then his sobs gradually quieted. She gently raised herself off of Darien and reached for the I.V. bag. "I'm going to put this I.V. in and check you over. Then I want you to rest, okay," she said gently.
Darien nodded his head slightly and looked up at her, his eyes a little clearer than they had been earlier. "How are you?" he asked.
"What?" she asked absentmindedly as she got the I.V. going and hung it from a pole that Eberts had brought over.
"The kid, you, how are you guys doing?" asked Darien softly, wiping at his face.
She looked down at him and gave him the brightest smile she could muster. "I'm fine, she's doing great," said Claire.
Darien raised an eyebrow. "She?" he asked.
Claire nodded and sat down next to him on the bed. "She," said Claire. "Katie Fawkes is just fine," she said.
"Katie Fawkes? I like it," he whispered.
"Bobby picked it out," said Claire as she lifted up his shirt and winced when she saw the large bruise across his rib. "Bloody hell, the bastards broke your rib," she said.
"So were having a little girl," said Darien, the tears returning to his eyes.
"Yep, we sure are. I hope you're not too disappointed. I know you wanted a boy," said Claire softly as she pulled out some bandages and wrapped the injured rib.
"I think a little girl is perfect," he said. "She's going to be beautiful, just like her mother."
"And her father, don't forget her father," said Claire with a smile as she finished with Darien's rib and pulled down his shirt.
"Hopefully, she'll get as few traits from me as possible," said Darien as his eyes started to close.
Claire sighed and kissed him on the forehead. "Go to sleep, I'll be right here when you wake up."
Darien moaned and then relaxed against the pillow.
Bobby and Eberts returned at that moment and quietly made their way into the apartment.
"How's he doing?" whispered Bobby.
Claire shrugged. "I'm not really sure. He just needs to rest right now. You can guys can go, we'll be fine," said Claire.
Bobby nodded. "Okay. If you need anything, call me. I'll be back tomorrow," said he as he stepped to Claire and kissed her cheek.
Claire smiled and reciprocated the kiss, causing Bobby to blush.
"Keep, you're a married woman," he said.
"I won't tell if you won't," she said with a small smile. She glanced at Eberts and motioned for him to come over.
He walked to her and wrapped his arms around her.
"Thanks Eberts, for everything," she said as she also kissed him on the cheek.
Eberts smiled. "You're welcome, doctor. It was a pleasure keeping you company."
Bobby pulled at Eberts' arm. "Come on, let's leave them in peace," said Bobby as he dragged him towards the door.
Eberts let Bobby pull him to the door and the two co-workers left the apartment.
Claire shifted her position in the bed and lay down next to Darien, grabbing his hand and placing it in her own. Then she let the quiet of night force her into sleep.
**
Over the next several days, things were pretty much the same. Darien slept on and off, looking sad and depressed, not really saying much. Claire tried to get him to eat, but he refused, so she was forced to leave the I.V. in his arm. She was afraid that maybe this whole ordeal had caused her to lose her husband for good.
On the night of day five, Claire was exhausted and sore and wanted nothing more than to curl up in Darien's arms and go to bed. So she did just that. She piled herself into bed and pulled her body tightly against Darien, just wanting to feel his warm presence next to her. She was about to fall into a deep sleep when a sudden sharp cramp worked its way through her abdomen.
She sat straight up in bed and began shaking Darien. "Darien, Darien, wake up!" she cried out.
Darien opened his eyes and looked up at her with concern. "What's going on?" he asked.
"I think I'm having the baby!" she cried.
It was if those words restored him into life. "Okay, okay, hold on," he said as he carefully took the I.V. out of his arm and got out of bed. He held his arm as he ran around the room in a panic. "Did you pack a bag?" he asked.
Claire nodded. "It's in the bathroom."
Darien quickly ran into the bathroom and emerged several seconds later carrying a pink bag filled to the brim with clothes and other supplies. "Okay, um, car keys," he said as he looked around the apartment. "Ah ha," he said as he found them sitting on the kitchen counter.
"Call Bobby," said Claire as another cramp worked its way through her body.
"Okay, okay, call Bobby, check," said Darien as he reached for the phone and dialed Bobby's number.
Bobby answered the phone with a sleep-filled voice. "Bobby Hobbes?"
"Hobbes, Hobbes, Keep's having the baby!" yelled Darien into the phone.
"Whoa, whoa, holy crap! I'll come get you," he said with excitement.
"No, no, I can manage. Just meet us at the hospital, partner," said Darien.
"All right, good luck. I'll see ya there!" yelled Bobby into the phone.
Darien hung up the phone and ran to Claire. "Come on, Keep, time to have our kid," said Darien as he gently took her arm and pulled her carefully out of the bed. "Are you okay?" he asked.
Claire smiled. "You're okay," she said as he walked her towards the door.
"What, what? I'm talking about you, here," he said as he grabbed her bag and helped her through the door.
"I'm fine, Darien. I just mean that you seem a lot better," she said with a grin.
"Yeah, well, something about your wife having a baby seems to snap you out of a depression," said Darien with a small smile, the first smile Claire had seen in a week. He pressed his forehead against hers. "Let's go," he said.
He somehow got her through the hallway, down the stairs and into Claire's SUV. Then he started the engine and tore out of the parking lot of the apartment in the direction of the hospital.
TBC
