Fragile Lives (6/?)

By Carol M.

See first parts for details

Note: More cliffs, more ropes, nuff said. Enjoy!

"Ready, one, two, three," said Bobby as he hoisted up the Official against the wall with Claire's assistance. They got him into a sitting position and were both panting from the effort. "There's a reason we call him the Fatman," said Bobby.

The Official was still unresponsive and hence did not hear the insult.

"Okay, let's get this big boy standing," said Bobby with a determined look on his face. He glanced at Claire. "You ready?" he asked.

Claire nodded her head.

"Go!" grunted Bobby as he and Claire somehow got the Official into a standing position.

Darien clapped from his position on the floor. "Bravo, very well done."

Bobby smirked. "Just be glad your injured, my friend or it would be you helping me carry this ton of lard."

"Bobby," said Claire sharply.

"Sorry, it's the adrenaline. Gets my insulting nature working overtime," said Bobby apologetically.

Darien smiled and then looked up at Eberts. "Ready for your load, Ebes?"

Eberts nodded and pulled Darien unsteadily to his feet.

"Okay, let's go," said Darien as he let Eberts guide him towards the stairwell door.

Bobby and Claire struggled with the weight of the Official as they followed behind Darien and Eberts. Slowly, but surely they made their way into the stairwell. Minute after minute went by as the group slowly tackled each step. About half way down the first flight, Darien's nose perked up in dread.

"Is it just me, or is it a little smoky in here?" he asked in a panicked voice.

Bobby inhaled deeply and nodded. "That's affirmative. Fire in the hole," he said with a grunt as he shifted the Official down another step.

"What do we do?" asked Darien as he rested against the wall for a moment.

"Keep going and deal with it when we come to it," said Bobby matter of factly.

"If you say so, team leader Hobbes," said Darien as he got off the wall and grabbed for Eberts' arm once again.

The group continued down the stairs, the more progress they made, the thicker the smoke. By the time they reached the landing to the first floor stairs, they were all choking and coughing.

"Hobbes, what's the next part of your brilliant plan?" Darien said in a raw, choked voice.

They stepped down a few more steps while Bobby contemplated. After a few minutes, he gazed at them with uneasy glance. "I got an idea, but you're not gonna like it."

Claire instantly shook her head. "Bobby, there's no way!"

Darien cleared his throat and raised his hand. "Excuse me, care to clue me in here?" he asked. He looked at them both for a few seconds and then nodded his head. "Quicksilver anyone?"

"Darien, you can't, it's too dangerous," said Claire.

He glanced at his tattoo and saw only 2 segments were red. "Got enough juice," he said. "I'm thinking one or two at a time, provided of course that we can get out the front door. If we can't then we're all pretty much screwed."

"Darien…" said Claire.

"It's our only chance, Keep," said Darien softly.

"Fawkes is right, Claire," said Bobby. "Let's get as far as we can and then hope for the best," he said as he continued to guide the Official down the stairs.

They got down half a flight when they encountered the first of the flames. The fire glowed against the walls, lighting the stairwell up in an orange hue of light.

The group coughed violently, with tears of pain streaming down their faces.

"Let's get the boss first," yelled Darien in a hoarse voice. "I'm gonna need some help," he said as he looked at Bobby and Claire.

"You go, Keep. Get the hell out of here," said Bobby.

Claire nodded in fear and grabbed on tighter to the Official. Meanwhile, Eberts shifted Darien so Darien's hand and body were firmly grasped onto the Official.

Darien teetered as he felt the weight of the Official land on him.

"You gonna make it?" shouted Bobby.

Darien nodded with a pained expression. He gripped the Official's arm firmly and grasped Claire's hand on the other side. "Ready?"

Claire nodded.

"Okay, here we go," he said as he let the quicksilver flow over himself, Claire and the Official.

They slowly made their way down the last of the stairs, the flames blossoming around them in a glorious display of black and white. Despite the quicksilver coating, Darien and Claire were still sweating and choking, the flames threatening to take over their lungs.

It seemed to take forever, but after only a few minutes, they reached the stairwell door to the ground floor. They noticed that the rest of the hall was in flames as well.

"Crap," yelled Darien as his body started to shake with overexertion.

He glanced towards the front door and through the flames saw that most of the debris that had been there earlier had been loosened.

"Hurry," he yelled through clenched teeth as he and Claire dragged the Official down the hall.

Claire coughed and got a better grip on the Official, trying to get to the door as quickly as possible.

When they finally reached the door, Claire let Darien take the Official and began clearing away what was left of the debris. After about a minute, she had cleared the door. She quickly got up and reclaimed her position next to the Official. The pair heaved the larger man out the door and both promptly collapsed to the ground with exhaustion and lack of oxygen, sending the body of the Official to lay sprawled out between them. The quicksilver dropped in a glorious spray of silver around their tired bodies.

Darien moaned and continued to cough, the movements sending waves of pain through his body.

Claire recovered her breath and moved towards Darien, placing a comforting hand on his back. "How are you doing?" she asked as she glanced at his wrist.

"Five red," he gasped out. "You wouldn't happen to have any counteragent with you, would you?"

Claire shook her head and gave him a scared glance. "It's in the basement."

"Of course it is," said Darien as he struggled to his feet. "We'll worry about it when I get Ebes and Hobbes out," he said as he started towards the door. "Find someone, anyone to put this fire out," he called back as he let the quicksilver flow over his body and went back in the building.

He slowly made his way through the flaming hallway, his mind and body in a numb daze of pain. By the time he made it back up the stairs to Bobby and Eberts, the fire had spread to the top of the first floor stairs.

He collapsed against the two of them in exhaustion, barely able to stand on his own.

Bobby was instantly at his side, grasping his arm and swinging it around his neck. Eberts did the same with his other arm.

Darien let the quicksilver flow over the trio and once again started down the stairs. The stairs had become incredibly unstable from the fire, and they all nearly took a spill as one of the steps literally collapsed from under them. Despite the hazardous conditions, they all continued down the stairs as carefully as possible, all the while struggling to breathe.

They reached the ground floor and raced as quickly as they could towards the exit. When they finally made it out the door into fresh air, Bobby and Eberts lay Darien gently on the ground, both taking deep breaths to get as much oxygen as possible into their pained lungs. The quicksilver scattered off them, revealing their position in a sparkle of silver.

Darien moaned from his sprawled out position on the ground. He was making a horrible wheezing sound and was clutching at his chest in a panic.

"Fawkes!" coughed Bobby.

Darien rolled on his side and coughed. "Can't breathe!" he croaked out.

Bobby looked up and saw Claire running towards them with several fire firefighters. He could also make out the Official being placed in an ambulance. He glanced around and realized that all the surrounding buildings were pretty much destroyed. The place was crawling with police, firemen and paramedics.

"Keep, over here!" he shouted urgently.

Claire finally reached them and he realized she was carrying an oxygen tank and mask with her. She knelt down next to Darien and placed the mask over his face, trying to wipe the soot and tears from his filthy face.

Darien coughed over and over again, unable to catch his breath. Claire rolled him further onto his back and began rubbing it. "Deep breaths, deep breaths, slowly," she cried out.

Darien coughed and then tried to take deeper breaths, all the while trying to ignore the pain in his chest and another pain that was slowly building up in the back of his neck. He hacked and choked for several more minutes before he could finally taste the sweetness of the oxygen that his lungs so desperately needed. He sagged against the ground in exhaustion, his chest heaving up and down as he took in the fresh air.

As Darien calmed down, the scene surrounding the Agency picked up considerably. Fire crews immediately entered the building, armed with fire hoses to put out the flames. Paramedics carrying bandages and other supplies swarmed around Darien, Bobby, Claire and Eberts, trying to treat their wounds. Police loomed in the distance, trying to control the chaos.

After a few minutes of treatment, Darien pushed the oxygen mask off his face and began tugging at Claire's arm.

"What is it?" she asked with concern.

"Counteragent," he panted, holding up his wrist. At that moment, his body was suddenly wracked with tremors, forming a mini-earthquake within his lanky form.

"Fawkes!" shouted Bobby with worry as tried to struggle out of the grip of the paramedic treating him.

"Oh no," said Eberts, who was looking at Darien with an expression of dread on his face.

The paramedic who was treating Darien stood up in a panic at the start of the tremors. "We need a stretcher over here!" he shouted to his fellow paramedic cronies.

"No, no, he's okay. I'm his doctor," said Claire as she shrugged away from the paramedic treating her and ran to Darien's side. The attack began to ease and Darien's body gradually sagged against Claire in relief.

"Easy, easy," she murmured in his ear.

"I have to get the counteragent," he whispered as he struggled to get up.

"Darien, let one of the rescuers do it," said Claire.

"No time," said Darien as he finally stood on his own two feet, despite a look of absolute agony on his face. He gave Claire a fierce look. "Where is it?"

Claire sighed in fright and disapproval. "Basement 2, room 1. Safe combo is 4-23-12."

"No way, Fawkes!" shouted Bobby as he pushed the paramedic who had been treating him away and stood up. "The building's going to come down any second, buddy. Let someone else do this."

"I'm not gonna let some innocent person die because of me," said Darien as he started for the building.

Bobby was instantly behind him and pulling him back. "Fawkes, this is stupid, you're gonna get yourself killed."

"Well, at least I can go to the grave knowing I didn't take anyone else with me," said Darien softly. He sped up his heart rate and within moments he was invisible.

"Damn it, Fawkes," yelled Bobby in frustration as he swiped at a body that was no longer there. He ran towards the smoking building, but was abruptly stopped by the fire chief.

"Sorry, sir, you can't go in there, it's too dangerous," said the weary-looking older man.

"My partner just went in there," said Bobby quickly.

"What partner? I didn't see anyone," said the fire chief in confusion.

"Trust me, he's in there. Now you can either clear a path for me or you can have a nice little chat with the President tomorrow," said Bobby.

"You have no authority," said the fire chief.

"My partner's in there. That gives me all the authority I need," said Bobby firmly as he shoved past the fire chief. He saw that the fire was pretty much out with only a few smoky reminders drifting through the hall. He ran towards the stairwell door and then tore down the steps to the basement, taking care not to trip on any of the debris. He reached basement two several minutes later and dashed into room 1. He saw that the safe was open with the equipment and ingredients for the counteragent still tucked inside. Darien was laying next to the safe in a shocked daze, an empty syringe of counteragent at his side. Blood trickled down Darien's arm from the injection and Bobby could tell that giving himself the shot must have been a hard struggle between Darien's sane and insane self.

"Hobbes," moaned Darien. "Get the hell out here," he said as the effects of the counteragent started to subside.

The room suddenly began to creak and groan. "Hobbes," said Darien in a panic.

That was when another wave of tremors tore through the building. The two partners held onto each other as debris once again began to rain down around them. The entire ceiling of the room was about to go and both were trying their hardest to shakily make their way out of the room.

Darien's eyes shot up in a panic as he saw the ceiling directly above Bobby bend in a way no piece of metal or concrete ever should. His body reacted and he gave Bobby a hard shove, sending Bobby sprawling out onto the floor of the hallway.

But it was too late for Darien. The ceiling caved in on him, along with most of the equipment, bricks and insulation from the floor above. Darien was smacked onto the floor and covered in a pile of debris. And then once again, everything was silent.

TBC-hehehehe, tomorrow.