Part 2
"Stop," Darien groaned, as yet again his leg got nailed by something he couldn't see in the underbrush. Even
though they had splinted it at a slight angle -- he could not straighten it completely, they had discovered
-- the underbrush was more than thick enough to make it unavoidable. He'd endured the pain as best as he
could, but that last whatever-the-heck-it-was had nailed him right on the knee, making him want to whimper in
pain and curl up on the forest floor till someone made it all better.
"Fawkes..." Hobbes began, only to be cut off by Monroe, who all but collapsed out from under the arm that
Darien had draped over her shoulder for support, leaving Hobbes to try and hold up Darien's weight on his
own. He grunted with effort, but managed not to drop his lanky partner.
Finally giving in to the nausea, which had been increasing ever since leaving the plane, Alex staggered a few
steps away and went to her knees, attempting to get rid of the contents of her stomach into a nearby fern.
Whereupon she discovered herself unable to do anything. Nothing would come up, but the urge to vomit refused
to ease and she found herself gagging and dry heaving until her abdomen felt like it was tearing itself apart.
Hobbes helped Darien to the nearest tree, where he could lean in relative comfort, and then moved to Alex.
"Monroe..." Her hand came up to keep him away, but he ignored it and crouched next to her, one hand resting
on her back. "Easy there. Try not to fight it." He drew her hair back away from her face and waited
patiently till she finally got some sort of control and was able to sit back on the forest floor, trying to
catch her breath and looking dead pale.
"Well, that was fun," Alex commented in a shaky voice. She didn't really feel any better now that she'd
submitted to that bout of nausea -- in fact, she felt worse. The coppery taste of blood in her mouth did
nothing to help the situation, either. Her head ached, her vision was blurry, and her abdomen was now trying
to compete with the pain in her head.
"You should have said something," Darien said softly from his position against a nearby pine tree. He'd been
rather shocked at how violently ill she'd become and knew it couldn't be good. His headache was mostly gone
and, though he'd earned his own set of seat belt bruises, his stomach was doing okay. He just couldn't walk
unaided. His knee would tolerate no pressure on it at all.
"Yeah, Monroe," Hobbes agreed, handing her one of the bottles of water from the jerry-rigged bag made out of
the remains of a shirt they'd salvaged which had allowed Monroe to put her jacket back on. It hadn't been too
badly damaged by the crash or the fuel spill, though the odor lingered.
She took a tiny sip of the water to see if it was going to stay down before taking an actual drink. What she
really wanted to do was spit it out to get the awful taste of blood from her mouth, but didn't dare. There
was no way she'd admit how badly off she was until they had Fawkes off this mountain. "Fawkes needed the help
more. I'll manage."
Hobbes shook his head at her. "You won't be much help if you pass out. Now let me take a look at you." He
waited for her to argue and was surprised when she simply sighed softly and nodded. That was more than enough
to make him realize she might very well be seriously hurt. He was no doctor, but knew all basics; he decided
in a short amount of time that she probably had at least a mild concussion. Her eyes were not dilating evenly
and she admitted to having trouble focusing. Convincing her to show him her abdomen was a bit more of a
challenge. It was Darien's smart-assed comment about 'peep-shows' that finally got her to lean back and allow
him to look at her.
Hobbes had checked both himself and Fawkes and knew that, while they were both bruised and sore, they were
okay. Monroe was not as lucky. Her smaller frame had not gotten along well with the safety belt that was
supposed to keep her from injury during a crash. The bruise was already darkening and there were seam marks
from both her shirt and jeans imprinted in her skin. When he probed, what he thought was gently, she moaned
and nearly passed out from the pain.
"Bobby?" Darien's use of Hobbes' first name was one of the small ways his concern came through. This was no
longer an Agency matter to his mind. This was his friend lying there on the ground hurt. Perhaps worse than
he was.
Hobbes shook his head and then did something that seemed incredibly odd -- he kissed Monroe on the forehead.
She looked at him, almost shocked speechless. Almost. "Hobbes, what the hell are you doing? Just 'cause I'm a
little hurt doesn't mean I can't flatten your ass."
Hobbes chuckled. "Like to see you try, Monroe." He tipped his head at her glare. "I was checking you for a
fever. It's not as accurate as a thermometer, but better than using a hand." Thankfully she was not showing
signs of one yet, but he had the terrible feeling that that piece of luck wouldn't last for long. Without
being able to do a thorough examination, he could only guess at the damage that had been done. He mentally
crossed his fingers, hoping it was only deep bruising and that she hadn't ruptured something internally,
because if she had, she might very well die on this mountain.
Alex closed her eyes and forced herself to relax. "Right, sorry." She wanted to lie down and sleep. It was
comfortable having her eyes closed, not trying to force her eyes to focus correctly, the soft sounds of the
forest about her... She jerked herself upright and then had to keep from screaming as her muscles complained
viciously about her too-fast movement. "Damn."
Hobbes had seen her nearly nod off and had been about to wake her when she did it herself. "Up, Monroe. We'll
find a place for you and Fawkes to hole up and I'll hike down the mountain for help."
Once on her feet she shook her head. "I'll be fine. We need to get Fawkes out of here." She leaned in closer
and lowered her voice. "They can't be that far behind us."
Hobbes responded in the same manner. "I know. I can move faster and bring the cavalry. You are not going to
make it far coughing up blood and you know it." They had agreed back at the plane to not tell Fawkes exactly
how much trouble they were in. He had used half his invisible time already and they wanted no part of having
to lure a quicksilver mad Fawkes down the mountain. With no counteragent and little chance for getting any
soon, they needed to keep him as calm as possible.
"Uh, guys. Private convos are great and all, but don't you think I should be in on it?" Darien wanted to
know what was going on. He was betting that Monroe was far more hurt than she was letting on, and since she
was never anything but stubborn, he knew she would hide it even if it killed her. He pushed himself away from
the tree and carefully hopped over to where they were. Hobbes held out an arm to help once he was near enough
and Darien settled behind him, one hand resting on his shoulder.
Alex glanced at her watch. "Look, it's only a few more hours till nightfall. Lets make what time we can and
keep our eyes out for a place to hole up for the night. We aren't going to be able to do much once the sun is
down anyway." When it looked like Hobbes would protest she added. "We need to keep moving while we can,
Hobbes."
He narrowed his eyes, but gave a slight nod in agreement. "As soon as we find a place to stuff you two, we're
taking it. Both of you are going to feel ten times as bad come morning. I'll find help and get them back
here." He looked from one to the other, expecting arguments, but got none.
Darien was suspicious, though, suspecting something was up. "What else is going on? Besides Monroe being hurt
worse than me, that is."
"Nothing we can't handle, Fawkes, provided you do what you're told for a change." Hobbes shifted, taking
Darien's arm about his shoulders and giving as much support as he could." When Monroe moved to Darien's
other side, he dissuaded her. "I got him for now. You scout ahead a bit."
Alex thought about it and nodded. Her eyesight might be flaky, but her ears were working just fine, and right
now she could barely support herself, never mind Fawkes' weight. She moved a few yards in front of them,
calling back warnings of unexpected obstacles hidden in the heavy underbrush, avoiding the stinging nettles
they had all learned about the hard way, and paying attention to the forest around them for unusual activity.
The next several hours would have been a wonderful afternoon hike in the woods on any other day, but they had
little appreciation for the scenic views through the trees. The lovely rocky outcroppings and sharp drop-offs
on this downhill slope would have made an interesting challenge to climb with the correct gear. Beautiful as
it all was, it made things even more difficult. Trying to balance Fawkes while walking down a steep
mountainside was just not the fun experience he'd imagined it to be.
Hobbes may have been least injured of the three of them -- though he was far from unhurt -- but he was
getting tired nearly as quickly as the other two simply because he had been practically carrying Darien for
the last hour and a half. They'd been forced to stop twice as Monroe was overcome again by the nausea that
refused to lessen. He knew she was quickly running out of energy, and maybe time as well, but he gave her
credit for getting back up and staggering on.
Alex had just gone down a third time, and Darien freaked when she began coughing up obvious blood. He started
cursing everyone he could think of, starting with the Official and ending with god. Kevin, Eberts, and even
Claire's dog Pavlov got mentioned during the impressive diatribe. He ended with a series of 'I told you so's'
and 'I knew this was a bad idea from the start's' before Hobbes' glare shut him up. Hobbes just left him
standing there, trying not to fall, as he went to help Monroe.
Alex wasn't doing too well, feeling chilled on top of in pain at this point. The discomfort in her abdomen
was like nothing she had ever felt before. A burning sensation that had surpassed the headache ages ago was
making her want to curl up on the ground and moan in pain. She just about gagged on the water she tried to
drink, and instead just rinsed out her mouth, spitting the blood-laden water onto the ground. "Hell," she
muttered, lifting her head slowly to meet the concerned eyes of Bobby Hobbes.
"We need to get you under cover, Monroe." Hobbes was still hoping that the nausea she was experiencing was
from the head injury and not from having ripped her guts all to hell, but it was looking to be a faint hope.
He helped her to her feet and caught her as she just about collapsed again, a groan of pain escaping from
her. "Easy there," he said softly, easing her back to the ground.
"Sorry, Hobbes. I feel like crap." Alex shivered and swallowed hard, fighting off another bout of nausea.
She hated to admit it, but she wasn't going to make it much further.
"So what now?" Darien was still shocked at how Monroe looked. Miss Always Perfect, always hiding behind that
carefully controlled facade of disdain, was pale and trembling on the ground just a few short feet away and
freely admitting she was not the super-woman she often pretended to be. In fact, from what he was overhearing
of their conversation, she was not going to be going much further today.
Hobbes got back to his feet and looked about. "Now, I'm going to find a place for you two to hole up." He
spotted a downed tree nearby that had yet to be completely buried in the swiftly growing underbrush. Holding
out a hand to Alex he helped her to slowly climb to her feet. Alex shook him off once upright, obviously not
wanting any more help than absolutely necessary. Hobbes just shrugged and moved over to help Fawkes. Within
minutes Darien and Alex were sitting in a hastily cleared out spot, leaning back against the huge tree. It
wasn't the most comfortable place to be, but their choices were quite limited. Taking one bottle of water for
himself he handed the rest of their supplies over to Fawkes.
"Keep her awake if you can. If we are where I think we are, there should be a river nearby and a spot or two
to hole up. Rest for a bit." He looked over Monroe again as he made a few adjustments to the pile of brush
supporting Fawkes leg. "If I get you a staff, you think you can manage a bit on your own if necessary?"
Darien cringed internally. The mere thought of putting any weight on his leg caused a dull ache to build, but
he knew there might end up being very little choice. "I'll do what I have to, Hobbes."
Hobbes nodded, knowing exactly how true that statement was from his partner. "Monroe, can you hold it
together for another hour?"
"Hobbes, does it look like I'm about to curl up in a ball and burst into tears?" she said in complete
exasperation. "I'll be well enough in a few minutes. Find us that shelter." She lifted her head to look up
at the bit of sky that could been seen through the canopy. "Looks like a storm is rolling in. Even if it
doesn't rain, we're going to lose our orientation."
"I know, but so long as we head downhill we should be okay. And our contact should have called out the
cavalry by now." Hobbes pushed himself back to his feet. "If I'm not back in an hour, do what you can to get
under cover for the night."
"Hobbes, don't say crap like that. You just get your ass back here, preferably with a triple cheeseburger.
I'm starved." Darien was doing his damnedest to cover the fear by joking with Bobby, but he wasn't sure how
successful he was being, even though he did get a chuckle out of him.
Alex groaned at the mention of food, her stomach rebelling, though not quite badly enough to send her to her
knees again. "Just go, Hobbes, we'll be fine."
He nodded and moved off, heading in the direction he hoped the river was. From what he remembered of the
topographical map and where the little terrorist camp was, they should be close. And there should be caves in
the area, caves that would offer them a place to get out of sight overnight and perhaps even the chance at
getting a small fire started. Both Fawkes and Monroe would need to keep warm once darkness fell and, though
it had been reasonably warm during the day, as soon as the sun went down the temp was going to drop. Leaving
them exposed would only lessen their chances of surviving this.
He'd been walking downhill for about fifteen minutes when he heard the distinctive sound of rushing water
just off to his left. Angling in that direction, he soon found the river, rushing quickly through a gorge cut
into the mountain by centuries of moving water. Straying closer to the edge, he looked over the area and soon
found what he'd been hoping to. Caves. Several of them. Increasing his speed, he checked three of them before
finding one that was suitable. The entrance was big enough for Fawkes to get in with little difficulty, though
he would have to fight his way through the brush disguising the entrance to do so. The cave itself was more
than deep enough to hide the trio back in the shadows, and the sounds of the water would cover any potential
noises they might create, though the interior itself was fairly quiet, the sound of the water muffled by the
thick walls of rock. Though it had been the home to a predator -- possibly a lynx or bobcat -- in the past,
it was currently abandoned and the remains of meals could be easily swept aside and ignored.
Digging out his knife from his boot, he carefully and subtly marked a nearby tree as a reminder and headed
back to his partners, making sure to blaze the trail in a way only an expert would notice. At one point he
thought he'd heard the baying of a hunting dog, but couldn't be sure. Still, he increased his pace and got
back to the fallen tree well within the hour.
Both were still awake, though it looked like they'd been arguing, perhaps Fawkes egging her on to keep her
conscious. Hobbes wouldn't put it past him, and it wasn't like it was all that difficult to get Monroe riled.
She was damn good agent, but their personalities just clashed on a regular basis. Though the same could also
have been said of him and Fawkes at one time. Shepherding the kid around had to have been one of the most
annoying assignments of his entire career, but it had been worth every sleepless night, every bit of
irritation, every penny docked from his paycheck. Fawkes wasn't perfect, never would be, but he was good,
damn good, and it had been more than worth the months of following him around and trying to keep him in line.
Alex spotted him first and made sure not to show her relief that he'd made it back. She and Fawkes had been
pretty much ignoring each other once she had convinced him to take another dose of Tylenol. At least until
they heard the dogs baying in the distance. She knew the sound of hunting dogs when she heard them, which
meant they were more likely to belong to the militia group that had shot them down, rather than a potential
search party who would use trained bloodhounds. The sound was distorted, but it seemed to be coming from the
direction of the plane.
She then had to try and convince Fawkes that it was nothing to worry about, probably just some hunters out
jack lighting deer for their dinner. He didn't believe her for one second. For someone who was so bad at
telling lies himself, he was damn good at spotting one, even coming from someone who was trained in it.
Admittedly she was not at the top of her game right now, but still he shouldn't have been able to spot any
difference. He was just always suspicious and called her on it this time. "Hobbes, there's some hunters out
there."
"Damn, I was hoping I was mistaken." He helped her up and then Fawkes. "I found a place. We'll stash you two
and then I'll draw off our guests."
Darien shot a look at Alex. "So, we are being followed." Supported by Bobby, they made their slow way
towards the hideaway he had found for them.
"Yeah, Fawkes, we're being followed, and we don't think it's the good guys." Hobbes was reluctant to answer,
but knew he had to at this point. He just hoped Fawkes would take it in stride and keep calm. Going see-thru
would not be the best idea at the moment.... "Fawkes, how much time you got left?"
Darien showed his wrist, still five segments green. "What do you want to do?"
"I'm thinking the dogs might get confused if our scent suddenly stopped. They shouldn't have any idea what
the quicksilver is. I'll stay outside and you two will disappear until hidden. The dogs should follow me and
I'll circle round and join you after losing them." He had no idea if it would work, but was more than
willing to try it. There was no way the two of them could easily defend themselves if cornered; neither was
in any shape to.
"Yeah, provided it's not for too long. Where you stashing us, anyway? I can't exactly climb a tree, you know."
Hobbes chuckled. "Found a cave near the river. The sound'll cover any noise you make and you'll be out of
sight."
Alex stopped, frozen for a long moment. "Hobbes, that won't work."
"Monroe, now is not the time for this. You won't be alone." He turned slightly to look at her. "We're
running out of options real quick, girl. Give me another suggestion, anything, and I'll gladly take it."
Darien watched this exchange in bemusement, but somehow knew better than to say anything. Alex's look had
gone completely blank, revealing nothing. He'd seen that look before, most recently when he talked to her
about her decision to give up her son for his protection. It had taken her slicing herself open on a broken
glass to get her to break even a little. It was also one of the few occasions she'd loosened up enough to
talk to him, to show him there really was a human being in there. It had served to remind him that this life,
that being a secret agent, wasn't easy for anyone. There would always be hard decisions to make, and the
chance at a family, at a personal life that could remain separate, was never likely to happen. Just look at
what had happened with his father. Leaving his family to protect them and staying away for all these years.
Darien was quick to realize he might never see him again no matter what he had said among the orange trees
that day.
Looking away from her, he focused on a new sound and recognized it after a moment as the roaring of water. He
hoped that meant they were nearly there, as he was not only getting damn tired, but the light was swiftly
beginning to fade, heralding the soon-to-come darkness.
Alex ground her teeth together, but refused to snap at Hobbes. He was right, but that didn't mean she had to
like it. Hell, in some ways, being alone would be easier than being stuck with an injured partner. "Just get
us there."
"This way." He motioned with his free and hand at a nearby tree and she picked up on the subtle blaze he'd
left there. They plodded on for another couple hundred yards, the sound of rushing water getting louder with
every limping step. "Can you follow them?" Hobbes asked Alex a few minutes later. "I think we should split
off here."
It was getting darker by the moment, but she nodded. The markings were done in a standard pattern she could
follow in her sleep if necessary. "I got it, Hobbes." She shifted over next to Darien and took Hobbes' place
supporting him. It wasn't that easy. Darien was quite a bit taller than her even when she wore heels, and for
this trip she had worn far more sensible shoes. Darien literally had to brace a hand on one of her shoulders
to balance at all.
"This sucks," Darien commented. Not that it was any more fun for Monroe, since she had to support his weight
while not falling over herself. "Hobbes, I don't like splitting up."
"I know, Fawkes, but this time we don't have much choice." He turned to Monroe. "Get under cover and stay
there. If I'm not back by morning..." If he wasn't back by morning, they were all going to be in a world of
trouble.
Alex stared forlornly at the entrance of the cave, hoping that, by some miracle, the darkness would not be
nearly as complete as she knew it was going to be. Once Darien had been settled as comfortably as possible
further in the cave, she'd moved back to the entrance. Ostensibly it had been to keep an eye out for their
followers, but she knew it was more to be near freedom. Even freedom heavily screened by brush and ferns,
even freedom that held perhaps more dangers than those inside this relative haven of safety.
Hobbes had left them all the supplies, insisting he could manage just fine with what Mother Nature provided.
In truth, Alex was too damn tired and in too much pain to argue with him. Getting Fawkes here quick enough to
keep him from going into quicksilver madness had sapped the last of her strength. The nausea had abated for
the moment, but her abdomen was nothing but one huge burning ache, and her head was not that much better.
Still, she could walk, unlike Fawkes, who was currently dependent on her for pretty much everything at the
moment.
"What I wouldn't do for a drink right about now," she muttered under her breath.
"Claustrophobia?" Darien asked in a soft voice. He knew the signs of a phobia at work and saw it as soon as
they had neared the cave entrance. With Monroe the signs were subtle, but there. He'd known her just long
enough to pick up on it when her confidence was forced, and she was holding on with teeth and toenails from
the looks of it.
Alex turned to face him. He was nothing more than a dark outline in the dim light, and soon he'd be invisible
without the need of that fancy over-priced gland in his thick skull. The coming darkness would be so complete
that they would be able to see nothing. "Why would you think a thing like that?"
"Monroe, ease up. It's just the two of us here, and I do have a phobia or two of my own." He paused, looking
her over. Trying to judge how far he might be able to push her this time. "I'm not gonna run home and tell the
Official, if that's what you're worried about." She shook her head. "Then what? Maybe I can help."
She snorted and turned away, looking back out to watch the last bit of light fade, leaving them enveloped in
darkness. She shuddered, not wanting the memories to come back yet again, the way they always did. Damn that
SWRB bastard for reminding her that she could be just as weak as any other woman. He'd known exactly what he
was doing by tossing her into that cement dungeon, had known what it would do to her, and probably had known
more than enough to break her, given a bit of time and very little effort. Everyone had an Achilles heel. It
just so happened that some of the wrong people knew about hers. "Fawkes, you and your partner may think you
are the end-all, be-all of the Agency, but it's far from the truth. I'm fine."
"Like you were fine after deciding to give up James?" Darien might not be able to see her, but he could hear
just fine. Her sharp intake of breath and the sound of movement let him know he'd hit home with his comment.
He was not surprised when he felt her settle nearby just seconds later. He could almost feel the anger
radiating off of her.
"Thank you so much for reminding me of the biggest mistake in my life," she snarled at him. Now she wanted a
drink more than ever. Some nights it seemed to be the only thing that allowed her to get some semblance of
sleep. Never again would she distrust her gut instinct about someone, but that woman's -- Eleanor Stark's --
way with James, her obvious competence, her seeming understanding of Alex's own insecurities, had won Monroe
over and led her into the worst choice she'd ever made in her life.
"Alex, I didn't mean it that way and you know it." Darien shifted, twisting his neck a bit. The headache was
already beginning, but he should still be okay for a while. Sometimes, when the stress level was high enough,
the headaches, the warnings that he was pushing his luck, would begin a bit early. When he'd checked after
getting in the cave, three segments had still been green. Not that it mattered all that much. He wouldn't be
able to walk any more while quicksilver mad than he could right now. He smiled in the darkness at the thought
of himself red-eyed and hopping about the woods on one leg. Oh yes, let all the forest creatures fear him.
Tarzan he was not. Heck, he didn't even qualify as George of the Jungle. Darien the Dead, or Fawkes the
Foolish, was far more likely if Hobbes didn't find them some help.
"Look, if you want to talk about it, I'm here and not going anywhere in a hurry."
That got a quickly stifled chuckle out of her that turned into a groan of pain. Laughing was a bad thing at
the moment and just caused another round of agony to shoot through her guts. "I know what you meant, Fawkes.
It's just not very easy to talk about, and the current situation is only adding to it."
"So it's an incident-related phobia and not a genetic one?" His own fear of spiders went back to an
adventure as a kid, and it wasn't till Kevin had overdone the spider theme to get the gland working that it
had finally eased. It was still there, though -- was there right now, in fact, wondering if any of the eight
legged buggers were crawling towards him in the darkness, were planning on finding their way into his hair or
under his clothes. It was his turn to shudder now and force those thoughts away.
"Yes." She shifted closer to him, his warmth a palatable presence that could be felt a short distance away.
"It was early in my career. My partner at the time was an older gentlemen, much like Hobbes in fact, and we
screwed up chasing after some suspects. We were forced off the road and left trapped with the car half buried
in debris." She closed her eyes, shutting out the false flashes of light her optical nerves was trying to
create, and instead found herself back in that car. The mud and dirt the pouring rain had loosened closing in
upon the car. The light fading as they were buried.
Alex felt Darien's hand settle on her thigh and she knew it was to establish contact, perhaps offer comfort,
and no more than that. She'd probably never admit it, but she was thankful that he felt able to, that he was
willing to reach out to her, both in the past and present, and that he somehow saw past the face she made
sure to show the world at large. This was a hard business, a hard life, and there was very little opportunity
to just be one's self. It was also too damn dangerous.
"We were there for almost three days before they found us. By then Kirkland had died. Bled to death. And the
car had been buried in such a way that he'd been above me." She barely got the words out. By the time they'd
been found she'd been ready to die herself. The man had screamed his voice raw once regaining consciousness,
and nothing she had said or done had helped or calmed him in the least. His screams had eventually turned
into moans and whimpers. The only times she had gotten peace had been when he'd passed out again. She had
tried to get out, tried to free them, but not only had the car been nearly encased in the mud, but the
vehicle itself had warped from the pressure. It had trapped Kirkland against the steering wheel, and allowed
her to do little more than unbuckle and squirm a bit. There had been no place to go and no light to see with.
"Christ, Alex, I'm sorry. It must have been..." Darien couldn't find the words to describe the horrific
images that filled his mind. It was little wonder she had a touch of claustrophobia. "My being injured is
making it worse, isn't it? Subconsciously, you think it'll happen again."
Alex nodded and then remembered her couldn't see her. "Not your fault, Fawkes. I can handle it. It's just not
very enjoyable."
"Not much is very enjoyable these days," Darien muttered, and then wished he hadn't. His life was crappy
enough without her harping on it.
"You really want out don't you? What would you do? Go back to your life of crime?" Alex was actually
curious. For all that his lack of discipline grated on her nerves, that he tended to complain -- often and
loudly -- he was surprisingly good at his job and had insights that people in the business would never think
of.
"Yeah, I want out, but not at the cost of more lives. Too many people have gotten hurt or killed because of
this stupid gland." Darien leaned back against the wall and tried to relax. He was tired, worn out, not just
from today but from all the revelations of the last several months. If it wasn't one thing it was a dozen
others. "Some days I wonder what the hell is the point. If someone isn't trying to kill me over it, I'm
killing someone because of the side effects. I may have been a thief and a con, but I was never a killer."
Alex was surprised once again to the depth of emotion he displayed. "Fawkes, while you certainly wouldn't
have been my first choice, or last for that matter, you've done some good work. I've read up on some of the
things you've done. You have no idea how much you've accomplished, do you?"
"That's right, try and make the poor injured man feel better, before he dies. Do I get a last request?" He
did his best to leer at her with his voice, and hoped she'd take it the way he intended it.
Alex smiled and set her hand atop his, her tension and fear easing. "Thank you." Before he could say
something else, something that might lead them down the wrong path, she continued. "Get some sleep, Fawkes.
I'm betting we're going to need it."
Darien shifted his hand, wrapping his arm about her shoulders by feel and pulling her closer. He ignored it
when she stiffened and tried to resist. "Alex, it's going to get cold. Just get over here. And call me
Darien. We're not a mission any longer."
Alex stopped fighting him and, as gently as possible, curled up against him. They wouldn't freeze to death or
even really suffer overnight, but even she couldn't justify sleeping and shivering separately. "Just keep it
clean... Darien. I can still flatten your ass, even like this."
"That's right, tease me while I'm incapacitated. Not exactly fair." He was mildly surprised when she didn't
make any comment and just curled up a bit more, sharing her body heat with him. Within minutes he was sure
she was out, her breathing even and regular. With a sigh he leaned his head back and allowed himself to drift
off as well, the headache and dull throbbing of his leg distant annoyances as the need for sleep intruded.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Stop," Darien groaned, as yet again his leg got nailed by something he couldn't see in the underbrush. Even
though they had splinted it at a slight angle -- he could not straighten it completely, they had discovered
-- the underbrush was more than thick enough to make it unavoidable. He'd endured the pain as best as he
could, but that last whatever-the-heck-it-was had nailed him right on the knee, making him want to whimper in
pain and curl up on the forest floor till someone made it all better.
"Fawkes..." Hobbes began, only to be cut off by Monroe, who all but collapsed out from under the arm that
Darien had draped over her shoulder for support, leaving Hobbes to try and hold up Darien's weight on his
own. He grunted with effort, but managed not to drop his lanky partner.
Finally giving in to the nausea, which had been increasing ever since leaving the plane, Alex staggered a few
steps away and went to her knees, attempting to get rid of the contents of her stomach into a nearby fern.
Whereupon she discovered herself unable to do anything. Nothing would come up, but the urge to vomit refused
to ease and she found herself gagging and dry heaving until her abdomen felt like it was tearing itself apart.
Hobbes helped Darien to the nearest tree, where he could lean in relative comfort, and then moved to Alex.
"Monroe..." Her hand came up to keep him away, but he ignored it and crouched next to her, one hand resting
on her back. "Easy there. Try not to fight it." He drew her hair back away from her face and waited
patiently till she finally got some sort of control and was able to sit back on the forest floor, trying to
catch her breath and looking dead pale.
"Well, that was fun," Alex commented in a shaky voice. She didn't really feel any better now that she'd
submitted to that bout of nausea -- in fact, she felt worse. The coppery taste of blood in her mouth did
nothing to help the situation, either. Her head ached, her vision was blurry, and her abdomen was now trying
to compete with the pain in her head.
"You should have said something," Darien said softly from his position against a nearby pine tree. He'd been
rather shocked at how violently ill she'd become and knew it couldn't be good. His headache was mostly gone
and, though he'd earned his own set of seat belt bruises, his stomach was doing okay. He just couldn't walk
unaided. His knee would tolerate no pressure on it at all.
"Yeah, Monroe," Hobbes agreed, handing her one of the bottles of water from the jerry-rigged bag made out of
the remains of a shirt they'd salvaged which had allowed Monroe to put her jacket back on. It hadn't been too
badly damaged by the crash or the fuel spill, though the odor lingered.
She took a tiny sip of the water to see if it was going to stay down before taking an actual drink. What she
really wanted to do was spit it out to get the awful taste of blood from her mouth, but didn't dare. There
was no way she'd admit how badly off she was until they had Fawkes off this mountain. "Fawkes needed the help
more. I'll manage."
Hobbes shook his head at her. "You won't be much help if you pass out. Now let me take a look at you." He
waited for her to argue and was surprised when she simply sighed softly and nodded. That was more than enough
to make him realize she might very well be seriously hurt. He was no doctor, but knew all basics; he decided
in a short amount of time that she probably had at least a mild concussion. Her eyes were not dilating evenly
and she admitted to having trouble focusing. Convincing her to show him her abdomen was a bit more of a
challenge. It was Darien's smart-assed comment about 'peep-shows' that finally got her to lean back and allow
him to look at her.
Hobbes had checked both himself and Fawkes and knew that, while they were both bruised and sore, they were
okay. Monroe was not as lucky. Her smaller frame had not gotten along well with the safety belt that was
supposed to keep her from injury during a crash. The bruise was already darkening and there were seam marks
from both her shirt and jeans imprinted in her skin. When he probed, what he thought was gently, she moaned
and nearly passed out from the pain.
"Bobby?" Darien's use of Hobbes' first name was one of the small ways his concern came through. This was no
longer an Agency matter to his mind. This was his friend lying there on the ground hurt. Perhaps worse than
he was.
Hobbes shook his head and then did something that seemed incredibly odd -- he kissed Monroe on the forehead.
She looked at him, almost shocked speechless. Almost. "Hobbes, what the hell are you doing? Just 'cause I'm a
little hurt doesn't mean I can't flatten your ass."
Hobbes chuckled. "Like to see you try, Monroe." He tipped his head at her glare. "I was checking you for a
fever. It's not as accurate as a thermometer, but better than using a hand." Thankfully she was not showing
signs of one yet, but he had the terrible feeling that that piece of luck wouldn't last for long. Without
being able to do a thorough examination, he could only guess at the damage that had been done. He mentally
crossed his fingers, hoping it was only deep bruising and that she hadn't ruptured something internally,
because if she had, she might very well die on this mountain.
Alex closed her eyes and forced herself to relax. "Right, sorry." She wanted to lie down and sleep. It was
comfortable having her eyes closed, not trying to force her eyes to focus correctly, the soft sounds of the
forest about her... She jerked herself upright and then had to keep from screaming as her muscles complained
viciously about her too-fast movement. "Damn."
Hobbes had seen her nearly nod off and had been about to wake her when she did it herself. "Up, Monroe. We'll
find a place for you and Fawkes to hole up and I'll hike down the mountain for help."
Once on her feet she shook her head. "I'll be fine. We need to get Fawkes out of here." She leaned in closer
and lowered her voice. "They can't be that far behind us."
Hobbes responded in the same manner. "I know. I can move faster and bring the cavalry. You are not going to
make it far coughing up blood and you know it." They had agreed back at the plane to not tell Fawkes exactly
how much trouble they were in. He had used half his invisible time already and they wanted no part of having
to lure a quicksilver mad Fawkes down the mountain. With no counteragent and little chance for getting any
soon, they needed to keep him as calm as possible.
"Uh, guys. Private convos are great and all, but don't you think I should be in on it?" Darien wanted to
know what was going on. He was betting that Monroe was far more hurt than she was letting on, and since she
was never anything but stubborn, he knew she would hide it even if it killed her. He pushed himself away from
the tree and carefully hopped over to where they were. Hobbes held out an arm to help once he was near enough
and Darien settled behind him, one hand resting on his shoulder.
Alex glanced at her watch. "Look, it's only a few more hours till nightfall. Lets make what time we can and
keep our eyes out for a place to hole up for the night. We aren't going to be able to do much once the sun is
down anyway." When it looked like Hobbes would protest she added. "We need to keep moving while we can,
Hobbes."
He narrowed his eyes, but gave a slight nod in agreement. "As soon as we find a place to stuff you two, we're
taking it. Both of you are going to feel ten times as bad come morning. I'll find help and get them back
here." He looked from one to the other, expecting arguments, but got none.
Darien was suspicious, though, suspecting something was up. "What else is going on? Besides Monroe being hurt
worse than me, that is."
"Nothing we can't handle, Fawkes, provided you do what you're told for a change." Hobbes shifted, taking
Darien's arm about his shoulders and giving as much support as he could." When Monroe moved to Darien's
other side, he dissuaded her. "I got him for now. You scout ahead a bit."
Alex thought about it and nodded. Her eyesight might be flaky, but her ears were working just fine, and right
now she could barely support herself, never mind Fawkes' weight. She moved a few yards in front of them,
calling back warnings of unexpected obstacles hidden in the heavy underbrush, avoiding the stinging nettles
they had all learned about the hard way, and paying attention to the forest around them for unusual activity.
The next several hours would have been a wonderful afternoon hike in the woods on any other day, but they had
little appreciation for the scenic views through the trees. The lovely rocky outcroppings and sharp drop-offs
on this downhill slope would have made an interesting challenge to climb with the correct gear. Beautiful as
it all was, it made things even more difficult. Trying to balance Fawkes while walking down a steep
mountainside was just not the fun experience he'd imagined it to be.
Hobbes may have been least injured of the three of them -- though he was far from unhurt -- but he was
getting tired nearly as quickly as the other two simply because he had been practically carrying Darien for
the last hour and a half. They'd been forced to stop twice as Monroe was overcome again by the nausea that
refused to lessen. He knew she was quickly running out of energy, and maybe time as well, but he gave her
credit for getting back up and staggering on.
Alex had just gone down a third time, and Darien freaked when she began coughing up obvious blood. He started
cursing everyone he could think of, starting with the Official and ending with god. Kevin, Eberts, and even
Claire's dog Pavlov got mentioned during the impressive diatribe. He ended with a series of 'I told you so's'
and 'I knew this was a bad idea from the start's' before Hobbes' glare shut him up. Hobbes just left him
standing there, trying not to fall, as he went to help Monroe.
Alex wasn't doing too well, feeling chilled on top of in pain at this point. The discomfort in her abdomen
was like nothing she had ever felt before. A burning sensation that had surpassed the headache ages ago was
making her want to curl up on the ground and moan in pain. She just about gagged on the water she tried to
drink, and instead just rinsed out her mouth, spitting the blood-laden water onto the ground. "Hell," she
muttered, lifting her head slowly to meet the concerned eyes of Bobby Hobbes.
"We need to get you under cover, Monroe." Hobbes was still hoping that the nausea she was experiencing was
from the head injury and not from having ripped her guts all to hell, but it was looking to be a faint hope.
He helped her to her feet and caught her as she just about collapsed again, a groan of pain escaping from
her. "Easy there," he said softly, easing her back to the ground.
"Sorry, Hobbes. I feel like crap." Alex shivered and swallowed hard, fighting off another bout of nausea.
She hated to admit it, but she wasn't going to make it much further.
"So what now?" Darien was still shocked at how Monroe looked. Miss Always Perfect, always hiding behind that
carefully controlled facade of disdain, was pale and trembling on the ground just a few short feet away and
freely admitting she was not the super-woman she often pretended to be. In fact, from what he was overhearing
of their conversation, she was not going to be going much further today.
Hobbes got back to his feet and looked about. "Now, I'm going to find a place for you two to hole up." He
spotted a downed tree nearby that had yet to be completely buried in the swiftly growing underbrush. Holding
out a hand to Alex he helped her to slowly climb to her feet. Alex shook him off once upright, obviously not
wanting any more help than absolutely necessary. Hobbes just shrugged and moved over to help Fawkes. Within
minutes Darien and Alex were sitting in a hastily cleared out spot, leaning back against the huge tree. It
wasn't the most comfortable place to be, but their choices were quite limited. Taking one bottle of water for
himself he handed the rest of their supplies over to Fawkes.
"Keep her awake if you can. If we are where I think we are, there should be a river nearby and a spot or two
to hole up. Rest for a bit." He looked over Monroe again as he made a few adjustments to the pile of brush
supporting Fawkes leg. "If I get you a staff, you think you can manage a bit on your own if necessary?"
Darien cringed internally. The mere thought of putting any weight on his leg caused a dull ache to build, but
he knew there might end up being very little choice. "I'll do what I have to, Hobbes."
Hobbes nodded, knowing exactly how true that statement was from his partner. "Monroe, can you hold it
together for another hour?"
"Hobbes, does it look like I'm about to curl up in a ball and burst into tears?" she said in complete
exasperation. "I'll be well enough in a few minutes. Find us that shelter." She lifted her head to look up
at the bit of sky that could been seen through the canopy. "Looks like a storm is rolling in. Even if it
doesn't rain, we're going to lose our orientation."
"I know, but so long as we head downhill we should be okay. And our contact should have called out the
cavalry by now." Hobbes pushed himself back to his feet. "If I'm not back in an hour, do what you can to get
under cover for the night."
"Hobbes, don't say crap like that. You just get your ass back here, preferably with a triple cheeseburger.
I'm starved." Darien was doing his damnedest to cover the fear by joking with Bobby, but he wasn't sure how
successful he was being, even though he did get a chuckle out of him.
Alex groaned at the mention of food, her stomach rebelling, though not quite badly enough to send her to her
knees again. "Just go, Hobbes, we'll be fine."
He nodded and moved off, heading in the direction he hoped the river was. From what he remembered of the
topographical map and where the little terrorist camp was, they should be close. And there should be caves in
the area, caves that would offer them a place to get out of sight overnight and perhaps even the chance at
getting a small fire started. Both Fawkes and Monroe would need to keep warm once darkness fell and, though
it had been reasonably warm during the day, as soon as the sun went down the temp was going to drop. Leaving
them exposed would only lessen their chances of surviving this.
He'd been walking downhill for about fifteen minutes when he heard the distinctive sound of rushing water
just off to his left. Angling in that direction, he soon found the river, rushing quickly through a gorge cut
into the mountain by centuries of moving water. Straying closer to the edge, he looked over the area and soon
found what he'd been hoping to. Caves. Several of them. Increasing his speed, he checked three of them before
finding one that was suitable. The entrance was big enough for Fawkes to get in with little difficulty, though
he would have to fight his way through the brush disguising the entrance to do so. The cave itself was more
than deep enough to hide the trio back in the shadows, and the sounds of the water would cover any potential
noises they might create, though the interior itself was fairly quiet, the sound of the water muffled by the
thick walls of rock. Though it had been the home to a predator -- possibly a lynx or bobcat -- in the past,
it was currently abandoned and the remains of meals could be easily swept aside and ignored.
Digging out his knife from his boot, he carefully and subtly marked a nearby tree as a reminder and headed
back to his partners, making sure to blaze the trail in a way only an expert would notice. At one point he
thought he'd heard the baying of a hunting dog, but couldn't be sure. Still, he increased his pace and got
back to the fallen tree well within the hour.
Both were still awake, though it looked like they'd been arguing, perhaps Fawkes egging her on to keep her
conscious. Hobbes wouldn't put it past him, and it wasn't like it was all that difficult to get Monroe riled.
She was damn good agent, but their personalities just clashed on a regular basis. Though the same could also
have been said of him and Fawkes at one time. Shepherding the kid around had to have been one of the most
annoying assignments of his entire career, but it had been worth every sleepless night, every bit of
irritation, every penny docked from his paycheck. Fawkes wasn't perfect, never would be, but he was good,
damn good, and it had been more than worth the months of following him around and trying to keep him in line.
Alex spotted him first and made sure not to show her relief that he'd made it back. She and Fawkes had been
pretty much ignoring each other once she had convinced him to take another dose of Tylenol. At least until
they heard the dogs baying in the distance. She knew the sound of hunting dogs when she heard them, which
meant they were more likely to belong to the militia group that had shot them down, rather than a potential
search party who would use trained bloodhounds. The sound was distorted, but it seemed to be coming from the
direction of the plane.
She then had to try and convince Fawkes that it was nothing to worry about, probably just some hunters out
jack lighting deer for their dinner. He didn't believe her for one second. For someone who was so bad at
telling lies himself, he was damn good at spotting one, even coming from someone who was trained in it.
Admittedly she was not at the top of her game right now, but still he shouldn't have been able to spot any
difference. He was just always suspicious and called her on it this time. "Hobbes, there's some hunters out
there."
"Damn, I was hoping I was mistaken." He helped her up and then Fawkes. "I found a place. We'll stash you two
and then I'll draw off our guests."
Darien shot a look at Alex. "So, we are being followed." Supported by Bobby, they made their slow way
towards the hideaway he had found for them.
"Yeah, Fawkes, we're being followed, and we don't think it's the good guys." Hobbes was reluctant to answer,
but knew he had to at this point. He just hoped Fawkes would take it in stride and keep calm. Going see-thru
would not be the best idea at the moment.... "Fawkes, how much time you got left?"
Darien showed his wrist, still five segments green. "What do you want to do?"
"I'm thinking the dogs might get confused if our scent suddenly stopped. They shouldn't have any idea what
the quicksilver is. I'll stay outside and you two will disappear until hidden. The dogs should follow me and
I'll circle round and join you after losing them." He had no idea if it would work, but was more than
willing to try it. There was no way the two of them could easily defend themselves if cornered; neither was
in any shape to.
"Yeah, provided it's not for too long. Where you stashing us, anyway? I can't exactly climb a tree, you know."
Hobbes chuckled. "Found a cave near the river. The sound'll cover any noise you make and you'll be out of
sight."
Alex stopped, frozen for a long moment. "Hobbes, that won't work."
"Monroe, now is not the time for this. You won't be alone." He turned slightly to look at her. "We're
running out of options real quick, girl. Give me another suggestion, anything, and I'll gladly take it."
Darien watched this exchange in bemusement, but somehow knew better than to say anything. Alex's look had
gone completely blank, revealing nothing. He'd seen that look before, most recently when he talked to her
about her decision to give up her son for his protection. It had taken her slicing herself open on a broken
glass to get her to break even a little. It was also one of the few occasions she'd loosened up enough to
talk to him, to show him there really was a human being in there. It had served to remind him that this life,
that being a secret agent, wasn't easy for anyone. There would always be hard decisions to make, and the
chance at a family, at a personal life that could remain separate, was never likely to happen. Just look at
what had happened with his father. Leaving his family to protect them and staying away for all these years.
Darien was quick to realize he might never see him again no matter what he had said among the orange trees
that day.
Looking away from her, he focused on a new sound and recognized it after a moment as the roaring of water. He
hoped that meant they were nearly there, as he was not only getting damn tired, but the light was swiftly
beginning to fade, heralding the soon-to-come darkness.
Alex ground her teeth together, but refused to snap at Hobbes. He was right, but that didn't mean she had to
like it. Hell, in some ways, being alone would be easier than being stuck with an injured partner. "Just get
us there."
"This way." He motioned with his free and hand at a nearby tree and she picked up on the subtle blaze he'd
left there. They plodded on for another couple hundred yards, the sound of rushing water getting louder with
every limping step. "Can you follow them?" Hobbes asked Alex a few minutes later. "I think we should split
off here."
It was getting darker by the moment, but she nodded. The markings were done in a standard pattern she could
follow in her sleep if necessary. "I got it, Hobbes." She shifted over next to Darien and took Hobbes' place
supporting him. It wasn't that easy. Darien was quite a bit taller than her even when she wore heels, and for
this trip she had worn far more sensible shoes. Darien literally had to brace a hand on one of her shoulders
to balance at all.
"This sucks," Darien commented. Not that it was any more fun for Monroe, since she had to support his weight
while not falling over herself. "Hobbes, I don't like splitting up."
"I know, Fawkes, but this time we don't have much choice." He turned to Monroe. "Get under cover and stay
there. If I'm not back by morning..." If he wasn't back by morning, they were all going to be in a world of
trouble.
Alex stared forlornly at the entrance of the cave, hoping that, by some miracle, the darkness would not be
nearly as complete as she knew it was going to be. Once Darien had been settled as comfortably as possible
further in the cave, she'd moved back to the entrance. Ostensibly it had been to keep an eye out for their
followers, but she knew it was more to be near freedom. Even freedom heavily screened by brush and ferns,
even freedom that held perhaps more dangers than those inside this relative haven of safety.
Hobbes had left them all the supplies, insisting he could manage just fine with what Mother Nature provided.
In truth, Alex was too damn tired and in too much pain to argue with him. Getting Fawkes here quick enough to
keep him from going into quicksilver madness had sapped the last of her strength. The nausea had abated for
the moment, but her abdomen was nothing but one huge burning ache, and her head was not that much better.
Still, she could walk, unlike Fawkes, who was currently dependent on her for pretty much everything at the
moment.
"What I wouldn't do for a drink right about now," she muttered under her breath.
"Claustrophobia?" Darien asked in a soft voice. He knew the signs of a phobia at work and saw it as soon as
they had neared the cave entrance. With Monroe the signs were subtle, but there. He'd known her just long
enough to pick up on it when her confidence was forced, and she was holding on with teeth and toenails from
the looks of it.
Alex turned to face him. He was nothing more than a dark outline in the dim light, and soon he'd be invisible
without the need of that fancy over-priced gland in his thick skull. The coming darkness would be so complete
that they would be able to see nothing. "Why would you think a thing like that?"
"Monroe, ease up. It's just the two of us here, and I do have a phobia or two of my own." He paused, looking
her over. Trying to judge how far he might be able to push her this time. "I'm not gonna run home and tell the
Official, if that's what you're worried about." She shook her head. "Then what? Maybe I can help."
She snorted and turned away, looking back out to watch the last bit of light fade, leaving them enveloped in
darkness. She shuddered, not wanting the memories to come back yet again, the way they always did. Damn that
SWRB bastard for reminding her that she could be just as weak as any other woman. He'd known exactly what he
was doing by tossing her into that cement dungeon, had known what it would do to her, and probably had known
more than enough to break her, given a bit of time and very little effort. Everyone had an Achilles heel. It
just so happened that some of the wrong people knew about hers. "Fawkes, you and your partner may think you
are the end-all, be-all of the Agency, but it's far from the truth. I'm fine."
"Like you were fine after deciding to give up James?" Darien might not be able to see her, but he could hear
just fine. Her sharp intake of breath and the sound of movement let him know he'd hit home with his comment.
He was not surprised when he felt her settle nearby just seconds later. He could almost feel the anger
radiating off of her.
"Thank you so much for reminding me of the biggest mistake in my life," she snarled at him. Now she wanted a
drink more than ever. Some nights it seemed to be the only thing that allowed her to get some semblance of
sleep. Never again would she distrust her gut instinct about someone, but that woman's -- Eleanor Stark's --
way with James, her obvious competence, her seeming understanding of Alex's own insecurities, had won Monroe
over and led her into the worst choice she'd ever made in her life.
"Alex, I didn't mean it that way and you know it." Darien shifted, twisting his neck a bit. The headache was
already beginning, but he should still be okay for a while. Sometimes, when the stress level was high enough,
the headaches, the warnings that he was pushing his luck, would begin a bit early. When he'd checked after
getting in the cave, three segments had still been green. Not that it mattered all that much. He wouldn't be
able to walk any more while quicksilver mad than he could right now. He smiled in the darkness at the thought
of himself red-eyed and hopping about the woods on one leg. Oh yes, let all the forest creatures fear him.
Tarzan he was not. Heck, he didn't even qualify as George of the Jungle. Darien the Dead, or Fawkes the
Foolish, was far more likely if Hobbes didn't find them some help.
"Look, if you want to talk about it, I'm here and not going anywhere in a hurry."
That got a quickly stifled chuckle out of her that turned into a groan of pain. Laughing was a bad thing at
the moment and just caused another round of agony to shoot through her guts. "I know what you meant, Fawkes.
It's just not very easy to talk about, and the current situation is only adding to it."
"So it's an incident-related phobia and not a genetic one?" His own fear of spiders went back to an
adventure as a kid, and it wasn't till Kevin had overdone the spider theme to get the gland working that it
had finally eased. It was still there, though -- was there right now, in fact, wondering if any of the eight
legged buggers were crawling towards him in the darkness, were planning on finding their way into his hair or
under his clothes. It was his turn to shudder now and force those thoughts away.
"Yes." She shifted closer to him, his warmth a palatable presence that could be felt a short distance away.
"It was early in my career. My partner at the time was an older gentlemen, much like Hobbes in fact, and we
screwed up chasing after some suspects. We were forced off the road and left trapped with the car half buried
in debris." She closed her eyes, shutting out the false flashes of light her optical nerves was trying to
create, and instead found herself back in that car. The mud and dirt the pouring rain had loosened closing in
upon the car. The light fading as they were buried.
Alex felt Darien's hand settle on her thigh and she knew it was to establish contact, perhaps offer comfort,
and no more than that. She'd probably never admit it, but she was thankful that he felt able to, that he was
willing to reach out to her, both in the past and present, and that he somehow saw past the face she made
sure to show the world at large. This was a hard business, a hard life, and there was very little opportunity
to just be one's self. It was also too damn dangerous.
"We were there for almost three days before they found us. By then Kirkland had died. Bled to death. And the
car had been buried in such a way that he'd been above me." She barely got the words out. By the time they'd
been found she'd been ready to die herself. The man had screamed his voice raw once regaining consciousness,
and nothing she had said or done had helped or calmed him in the least. His screams had eventually turned
into moans and whimpers. The only times she had gotten peace had been when he'd passed out again. She had
tried to get out, tried to free them, but not only had the car been nearly encased in the mud, but the
vehicle itself had warped from the pressure. It had trapped Kirkland against the steering wheel, and allowed
her to do little more than unbuckle and squirm a bit. There had been no place to go and no light to see with.
"Christ, Alex, I'm sorry. It must have been..." Darien couldn't find the words to describe the horrific
images that filled his mind. It was little wonder she had a touch of claustrophobia. "My being injured is
making it worse, isn't it? Subconsciously, you think it'll happen again."
Alex nodded and then remembered her couldn't see her. "Not your fault, Fawkes. I can handle it. It's just not
very enjoyable."
"Not much is very enjoyable these days," Darien muttered, and then wished he hadn't. His life was crappy
enough without her harping on it.
"You really want out don't you? What would you do? Go back to your life of crime?" Alex was actually
curious. For all that his lack of discipline grated on her nerves, that he tended to complain -- often and
loudly -- he was surprisingly good at his job and had insights that people in the business would never think
of.
"Yeah, I want out, but not at the cost of more lives. Too many people have gotten hurt or killed because of
this stupid gland." Darien leaned back against the wall and tried to relax. He was tired, worn out, not just
from today but from all the revelations of the last several months. If it wasn't one thing it was a dozen
others. "Some days I wonder what the hell is the point. If someone isn't trying to kill me over it, I'm
killing someone because of the side effects. I may have been a thief and a con, but I was never a killer."
Alex was surprised once again to the depth of emotion he displayed. "Fawkes, while you certainly wouldn't
have been my first choice, or last for that matter, you've done some good work. I've read up on some of the
things you've done. You have no idea how much you've accomplished, do you?"
"That's right, try and make the poor injured man feel better, before he dies. Do I get a last request?" He
did his best to leer at her with his voice, and hoped she'd take it the way he intended it.
Alex smiled and set her hand atop his, her tension and fear easing. "Thank you." Before he could say
something else, something that might lead them down the wrong path, she continued. "Get some sleep, Fawkes.
I'm betting we're going to need it."
Darien shifted his hand, wrapping his arm about her shoulders by feel and pulling her closer. He ignored it
when she stiffened and tried to resist. "Alex, it's going to get cold. Just get over here. And call me
Darien. We're not a mission any longer."
Alex stopped fighting him and, as gently as possible, curled up against him. They wouldn't freeze to death or
even really suffer overnight, but even she couldn't justify sleeping and shivering separately. "Just keep it
clean... Darien. I can still flatten your ass, even like this."
"That's right, tease me while I'm incapacitated. Not exactly fair." He was mildly surprised when she didn't
make any comment and just curled up a bit more, sharing her body heat with him. Within minutes he was sure
she was out, her breathing even and regular. With a sigh he leaned his head back and allowed himself to drift
off as well, the headache and dull throbbing of his leg distant annoyances as the need for sleep intruded.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
