Hobbes was right about The Official's reaction.

"That's twice this week, Fawkes," he stated, leaning over his desk. "Ten times this month so far."

"Eleven, sir," Eberts corrected him.

Darien glared at Eberts, then turned back to Charlie. "I promise it won't happen again," he said half-heartedly.

"Don't talk to me in that kind of tone," the Official warned.

Darien blinked in surprise. Then, he smirked. "Yes, Daddy. I won't be mean again. Can I go out and play now?"

"If you're going to act like that, I'll play along. You're grounded, without allowance, and your older brother, Hobbes, gets all your desserts. Three days suspension, with no counteragent, so you had better watch it with the quicksilver. Now, get out of my office."

Darien stormed away from the desk and threw open the door, only to find Hobbes eavesdropping outside the barrier. As Darien walked through the archway, Hobbes straightened himself to full standing position.

"So, how did it go?"

Darien just ignored him.

Hobbes continued. "Did you at least ask him what you wanted to?"

"No, I probably should have done that before I pissed him off, now shouldn't I?" Darien paused, wondering what to do next. "I should probably go talk to The Keeper, break the news of my unscheduled vacation to her gently. She'll be devastated, you know."

"Oh yeah, inconsolable."

"She'll need a shoulder to cry on." Darien looked right at Hobbes.

Slight pause. "It's my turn to get the girl," Hobbes joked as he quickened his pace. Darien increased his speed as well. Before they knew it, it was a race to the lab, barely won by Lithium Bob.

"Ha!" Hobbes chuckled as Darien swipped his security card through the lock. Both men entered the lab and found The Keeper sitting in front of her computer.

"Hey doc, how's it going?" Darien asked as he walked to the refrigerator, opened the door and removed his lunch.

Claire spun around in her chair to face the men. "No."

Darien looked at her with disbelief and held up his lunch. "What's wrong with yogurt? It's nutritious, delicious and tastes like--"

"I just got off the phone with The Official." She pointed at Darien. "You're not supposed to be here, and you know it. And I know you, you're about to ask me for a quick shot of counteragent, which I will not give you. I've broken enough rules for you and Hobbes."

"But I--" Darien started, pulling up his sleeve.

"No buts." Claire got up and made the door open. "Out." She watched as Darien paced out, head held low, while Hobbes followed close behind.

"I'm not even close to needing a shot!" He called as the door closed behind him.

"Now what, Inviso Boy?" Hobbes quirked.

*************

After somehow convincing Hobbes to go home, Darien headed back to his apartment to see if Tyler had successful settled in for a while. He walked in to see three six-packs on the kitchen table and a rented copy of Star Wars by the TV.

"We never finished it, man." Tyler stepped out of the bathroom, dressed in his normal attire. Even though it had been years since they last saw eachother, Darien could have sworn that he remembered Tyler wearing that t-shirt.

He smiled. "Yeah, if I remember right, you were still confused about the whole bar scene. How did Ben Kanobi pull that trick off anyway?"

Darien paused, doubt in his mind. It was true that he drank a little alcohol, one or two beers, since the gland had been put in his head, but would that little sucker be able to handle an overload? Or would it cause that pesky penial gland to act up again and mess with his view of reality? Either way, this was gonna be one hell of an evening.

*************

"You know, I always had a thing for Carrie Fisher." Tyler was long gone. Between the two of them, they had finshed two out of the three six-packs and were down to only two beers left.

Darien laughed. "Naw, you had a thing for Vader, I know it." He started rubbing his wrist absentmindedly. "It's the voice, isn't it?"

"Shut up, man!" Tyler threw an empty beer can Darien's way, which he more or less dodged. Then, they both fell to the ground, laughing.

"I'm so gonna feel this in the morning," Darien stated while taking off his watch. The tattoo monitor had begun to itch, and he did not want his watch over it now. "I don't know which will be worse: this hangover or one of those pesky little Quicksilver madness migraines that I get." He threw his watch on the table and started to stand up. A task that had suddenly become impossible for him. He staggered and fell again. "Aw crap."

Tyler laughed. "Dude, what the hell is Quicksilver madness?"

Think fast, Darien, he thought. Gotta be smooth with this answer. "It's a government experiment thing." Damn it. Note to self: learn to shut up when drunk.

"You're such a jerk," Tyler said, startling Darien. "If ya don't wanna tell me, make up a good reason, not this government shit. Fine, just tell me when the hell you got a tattoo. I thought you hated the idea of needles."

"Ain't it cool?" Darien said, holding up his wrist. "It tells me when I'm running low of counteragent." Aw crap, he thought. Why am I so open mouthed?

"Dude, I'm not falling for this government crap. You couldn't lie to me in juvi and you can't lie to me now. I'm too good."

"You think I'm lying? Check this out." As he said that, Darien totally regretted it. However, his motor functions and adrenaline levels were not running on logic now, and so despite what his inner conscious told him, Darien could feel the cool metallic tingle of quicksilver begin to coat his body. Before the monotone glaze fell over his world, Darien caught a glimpse of the shocked look on his friend's face.

"Okay, I must be drunker than I thought, because I can't see you, Fawkes."

"That's because I'm invisible," Darien decided to just spill the whole story. "Kevin had a little fun with his Mr. Scientist Chemistry Set."

"Can you do that whenever you want?"

"Oh yeah, and sometimes when I don't want."

Tyler waved his hand in front of him, trying to catch a feel of his friend. Darien, being drunk, considered this a perfect chance to get Tyler back for the teenage prank of putting shaving cream in his hair. A big no-no in his book. Slowly and silently, Darien managed to stand up and creep next to his friend. Stifling a giggle, he stretched out his arms and grabbed Tyler around the waist.

"Boo!"

Tyler immediately jumped to his feet, reached under his shirt, and pulled out the gun that Darien had failed to notice before now. "Damn it, Darien. Don't do that!" He screamed while constantly pivoting on his heels, looking for a target.

"When the hell did you get a gun, Tyler?" Darien asked as he let the quicksilver flake away into nothingness.

"The moment all this shit started. Got scared, bought a weapon. Can you blame me?"

"No, but for the time being," Darien took the gun from his friend and coated it with quicksilver. "Just until you're a little more sober."

"Wait, you can do that to anything?"

"Yeah, why do you ask?"

Tyler suddenly let a huge grin consume his face. Aw crap, Darien thought. I haven't seen that grin since the last bright idea he had. Please don't let this be another wild pig/Jewish convention idea.

"It's time for fun, my fine Fawkesy man."

*************

The next morning, Darien woke up with two problems. One, he had a killer hangover and two, the monitor tattoo was itching like crazy. As he looked at it, he noticed that less than a quarter of the scales were red. Darien pondered this occurrence. "It's the same as--"

His thoughts on that matter stopped when the memories of the previous night came rushing back. He dipped his head in shame as he walked to the shower, carefully stepping over Tyler, who was still clutching the trophy in his sleep. Even in their drunken stupor, both of them had possessed enough sense not to betray their respective bosses: Darien could not get caught stealing, again, and Tyler was not allowed to do a job without Mr. Galatea's consent. Therefore, Tyler had suggested going out on the town and scaring the crap out of people. They had walked around town, while Darien had quicksilvered his arms, introducing themselves to people and watching their reactions. They had stopped at random corner shops, and Darien would quicksilver the cash register, then they would sit back and watch the chaos ensue, all the while giggling.

All of this had been fun, until while passing by a strip bar, Tyler had insisted on going inside. It had been amateur night with a $500 prize on the line, open to all contestants. While sitting down and ordering drinks, Tyler suddenly got the strangest idea. "Dude, you could do that."

"What? Make a fool of myself?" Darien pointed at the stage. "Cause that's what she's doing right now."

"But seriously, you would win."

The waitress brought their drinks, two Irish Car Bombs, and gave Darien the once-over. As she walked away, she gave a coy little smile.

Tyler took a quick chug from his drink and continued. "See? The women would love you."

Darien had turned to his friend. "Only if you go up with me." Those seven magic words started it all.

Now, as Darien stood under the hot water of the shower, he hoped upon hopes that the water would somehow wash away those memories. They had won, but only after Tyler had thrown a bowl of flour from the kitchen in the air, and Darien had "disappeared" under the cloud, creating their own little magic show along with the strip tease. Everyone in the bar had been too drunk to question how the Great Inviso-Duo really worked.

He stepped out of the shower and quickly got dressed. Gently kicking Tyler on the floor, he woke his friend. "Hey, I'm going shopping. You want anything?"

"Tylenol." Tyler grumbled. "And Bayer. And Excedrin. Something to kill this marching band in my head."


"Got it. Be back in a minute."

Darien stepped out the door and headed to the supermarket down the street, completely oblivious to the three creeps lingering around his building's door.

*************

In the market, Darien started to reminise about the old days with Tyler. As he strolled down the aisles, he remembered their nicknames. D&T: The New Explosive. No one could cross one of them without the other getting volatile and going Vesuvius on their ass. It had been their time, their era.

Until Tyler was moved to a different facility. Darien had been inconsolable after that. They did not even tell him where Tyler had been taken. He just woke up one morning and found his best friend gone.

Well, that was not about to happen again. Darien was going to look after his buddy and make sure that he got this whole situation worked out. He went to look at his watch to see how long he had been at the market, but remembered that he had taken his watch off. Looking at his tattoo, he still could not figure out why there were more green bands than red, considering how much quicksilver he had used last night.

Darien paid for his groceries and started to head home, still thinking about his past joys with Tyler. While he was walking, the tattoo still itched like crazy, but he could not figure why. Also, his hangover started to kick in, a little stronger than usual, but that was expected with the exercise and the bright sunlight. He paid no attention to it.

He rounded the corner to his apartment building and got the feeling that something was wrong. Picking up his pace, he bounded up the stairs and barged into his home, dropping the bag of groceries on the way.

His place was a mess. Furniture overturned, paper everywhere, tv smashed in. Deep in his mind, Darien was thinking, Great, what am I gonna do on Friday nights now? But first, he had to find his friend.

"Tyler?" He called out. "You hiding?"

When there was no answer, Darien figured that his old "pal" had ransacked the place and took off. He was just about to leave, when he heard a small gasp for air from his bedroom. Dashing in, Darien tried to convince himself that what he saw before him was not real. But it was.

There Tyler lay, bleeding to death. Just by looking at the blood stains on his shirt, Darien guessed that his friend had been shot at least six times.

"Darien," Tyler's once boisterous voice was reduced to a shattered whisper. He then said something that Darien could not decipher.

Darien moved closer to his friend, who was lying on his bed. As he did, Tyler's eyes grew wide, almost panicky. Then, he repeated his lost phrase with more urgency: "Don't!"

At the moment, strong hands clasped around Darien's throat, catching him by surprise. Despite his struggling, Darien could not break free of the monsterous grip. So, he did the only thing one can do in that type of situation. One high kick backwards and the guy was down for the count. That's when the other two guys stepped out of the shadows of the closet, guns in hand. Darien's instincts took over, and he ran out of the apartment.

"Catch him, you idiots!" The man called from the floor as he was slowly getting up. The two others took off after Darien, with the first slowly following behind them. When they stepped out of the door, they could not see him anywhere.

"Where'd he go, Lorus?" One of the lackeys turned to their leader.

"No idea," Lorus stated, while still walking slowly. "But if we don't find him, Mr. Galatea will be really pissed off. Split up. Shoot on sight, cause we can't let him get word to any cops." With that, the three of them headed down the stairs, prepared to go their own separate ways.

When they were clearly out of sight, Darien became visible again. He had never left his own apartment, merely quicksilvered as he ran. Now, despite the increasing pain of his hangover, he hurried back to his bed where Tyler lay, grasping to the final strains of life he had.

"Hold on, man. I'll get you help." Darien looked at at Tyler's face, and knew that no help could possibly make a difference. His friend was going to die, and there was nothing he could do. Except... "Tyler, where do those goons report to Galatea?"

Tyler strained to speak. "His apartment. 56 Manchurian Avenue......10L."

"Don't worry man. They'll pay for this one." Darien was already thinking of the vengeance he would invoke for Tyler's sake. He was not thinking straight.

Tyler gave a weak smile. "Stay in the shadows, Fawkes."

"Remember your time." Darien choked out.

Tyler paused. "Damn it, Darien. What the hell is happening to your eyes?" Those were his last words. One final gasp of air, and he was gone.