Fragile Lives (7/7)
By Carol M.
Small spoiler for BK in this one
Note: We've reached the end once again. Thanks for all the kind words guys, hoped you enjoyed this one. Up next, a lighter D/C/B fic, maybe another DS fic, maybe another standalone. Still holding out hope for saving the show. I'm not really sure how the show "ending" will effect my ability to write. I guess we will have to wait and see. Anyway, enjoy the last part!
Bobby stared in horror at the pile of rubble that now occupied the same space that his partner had been standing in only moments before. Now there was no sign of his partner except for the toes of his sneakers peaking out from a mountain of debris.
Bobby's eyes glazed over for several seconds and then they cleared, realization hitting him in the face like a Mac truck.
"Darien," he said softly as he picked himself off the ground and began clawing at the debris entombing his friend. "I'm gonna get you out, I'm gonna get you out," he murmured hysterically over and over again as the form of his partner slowly became visible.
"Fawkes," he whispered in dismay when he saw Darien's face. It was covered in a sticky mix of blood and soot, marring his facing features and turning his normally handsome face into something out of a horror movie.
Bobby began wiping off Darien's face with his shirt, his own tears aiding as a cleaning solution.
"Please don't be dead, buddy," he whispered as he felt Darien's filthy neck for a pulse. His heart leapt with relief when he found one. It was very weak and slow, but it was there. And that was good enough for Bobby Hobbes. "Help!" he began screaming as loud as he could possibly muster.
He looked back at his partner and shook his head in anger. "You son of a bitch," he cried out as he grasped Darien's bloody hand. "Why the hell did you do that, Fawkesy? God, you're so freakin' selfish!" he screamed as he pressed his head gently against Darien's chest.
"You're not supposed to save me, partner. I'm supposed to save you, my friend. My friend, my friend. Crap Fawkes, you're the only real friend I've ever had. I love you buddy," he said with tears streaming down his face.
He felt Darien's hand tighten slightly around his own. "Aw crap, buddy, hang on for me. Hang the hell on! Help! Help us!" screamed Bobby.
"Anyone down here?" he heard a voice yell off in the distance. To Bobby it sounded like the voice of God himself.
"Down here! My partner needs help!" he shouted urgently. "Get someone down here now!"
Bobby glanced back at his partner who looked so helpless and vulnerable. Like a child. Like the way he had looked that morning before Bobby had woken him up. He pulled Darien into his arms, not even caring if it hurt him, just wanting to feel his partner in his arms to ensure he was still alive.
Several minutes passed by as they waited for the rescue workers. It felt like a lifetime to Bobby. Darien moved slightly in his arms, moaning softly. He looked like he was trying to open his eyes. "You're gonna be okay, Fawkes, you're gonna be okay. Hang on just a few more minutes, man," said Bobby as he pressed his face against Darien's hair for a moment.
Darien's eyes fluttered open and then shut again. "You should have let me sleep in," he whispered so softly Bobby had to bend down over his mouth to hear him.
"Now what fun would that be?" said Bobby with a slight smile. "So are you dying or can we skip the whole touching speech between partners thing, buddy?"
"Hmm, not sure yet," whispered Darien.
Bobby started running his fingers through Darien's hair. "You're such a bastard," he said simply.
"Why, for saving your ass?" whispered Darien. "You're worth a lot more than you'll ever know Bobby."
"What about you, huh? You're my best friend. What the hell do you think I'll do without you?" said Bobby tearfully.
"You'll survive," whispered Darien. He swallowed painfully and then opened his eyes to look at Bobby. "If this is it, then I just wanted to let you know that… you know, I love you and you're my best friend too. Tell Claire I love her and tell Ebes and the boss that they're pretty cool too."
"Don't you do that to me, Fawkes. Don't you say goodbye. This isn't goodbye. You can't leave me. You can't leave us. The Agency would go under without you," said Bobby.
"Look around, Hobbesy, I'd say the Agency is pretty much screwed already," said Darien in a choked whisper. "This life was never mine, Hobbes. I was never supposed to be here."
"Yeah well, whether you like or not, this is your life, pal. You do belong here. You belong with all us, we're your family. You saved all of us today, D," said Bobby.
"No," murmured Darien as his eyes drifted shut.
Bobby nudged him. "Don't you close your eyes. You're more stubborn than this. Fight damn you, fight!"
"I can't," muttered Darien.
"If you can't do it for yourself, then do it for me. Hell, do it for Claire. Or your brother even," whispered Bobby.
"My brother never cared about me, Hobbes," whispered Darien.
"You would be surprised, my friend. Turns out Darien and Kevin Fawkes have a lot more in common than you might think. I should know, I was partners with the both of you," said Bobby.
Darien shook his head slightly and then relaxed into Bobby's lap. "I'm sorry," he said softly.
"No! No! No! I told your brother I would look out for you, that I would protect you. I won't let you die!" shouted Bobby. But there was no response from Darien.
"Fawkes?" he said as he started violently shaking Darien. "Wake up, wake up, wake up," he cried out.
It was then that he heard steps and voices of rescuers filling the halls. "In here, now!" shouted Bobby in a panic.
He was greeted with the concerned faces of several paramedics carrying a stretcher and other equipment. Claire was right behind them, looking frantic and extremely worried.
Her eyes sparkled with tears when she saw Darien and she instantly knelt by his side, taking his pulse. "No pulse!" she shouted to one of the paramedics.
Bobby clutched Darien tighter as if somehow his touch alone could bring Darien back to life.
"Bobby, you have to let go of him so we can work on him," said Claire with tears trickling down her cheeks.
Bobby nodded hesitantly and gently rolled Darien off of his body. He watched in a daze as the paramedics tried to revive his fallen partner. He watched Claire hook him up to various machines and try to shock him back to life. He could do nothing but watch as his partner's body lay cold and lifeless on the floor.
"Still no pulse. It might be too late," said one of the paramedics as he measured Darien's vitals.
It was if those words brought Bobby into action. He got on his feet and then stepped to his partner. He took Darien's hand and squeezed it so tightly he was sure he had probably broken it. "Live," he said softly.
Claire eyed Bobby intensely and then backed away from the paramedics, handing over the defibrillator to one of the other rescuers. She knelt down on the opposite side of Darien and took his other hand, squeezing it into her own. "Don't leave us, Darien. You saved us, now let us save you," she whispered through tears.
"Oh my god," they heard a voice say from the hall. They turned around to see Eberts standing there, watching with horror as the paramedics worked on Darien. He stood awkwardly for a few seconds, not really knowing what to do. Then he shuffled into the room and knelt down near Darien's head. He reached out and placed his hand firmly on Darien's shoulder.
"See buddy, we're all here," said Bobby as he continued to hold Darien's hand. "Now what do you say you cut the dramatics out and live for us, my friend," he pleaded.
And then they heard it, words so sweet that Bobby nearly passed out in relief. "We've got a pulse."
Eight days later
Bobby flipped through the Philosophy Now magazine he had purchased for Darien in a bored daze. He had no idea how his partner could read this crap.
He set down the magazine and glanced at the still form of his partner. He was in a white hospital bed, his skinny frame covered in bandages. Machines were hooked up to various parts of his anatomy, spouting off annoying beeps that drove Bobby crazy. Darien had been taken off a ventilator several hours earlier and was expected to wake up sometime in the next day or two.
The doctors had commented over and over again about Darien's remarkable recovery. "We've never seen someone with such a will to live before," one of the doctors had said after he had come out of Darien's surgery.
Bobby had simply shaken his head and smiled. "You don't know what a stubborn punk my partner is," he had told the doctor.
Darien was going to okay and that was all that mattered. He was hurt, severely hurt, but he would live and get better. And Bobby thanked everyone he could think of for that fact.
Claire had been acting as Darien's nurse, giving him medicine, feeding him and obsessing over his health. The counteragent supplies had been salvaged from the rubble, so she had set up a lab in the hospital to make the counteragent until the Agency could find another temporary location for an office building. The remnants of the old Agency were already being cleared away and would soon be rebuilt, although Bobby wasn't sure where the money would come from. He hoped it wouldn't come out of his paycheck.
The Official had woken up two days after the disaster. He was diagnosed with a severe concussion and could not remember the actual earthquake. He had been surprised and devastated when he learned what Darien had done and what had happened to him. The Official had been released several days earlier, but had returned every night to visit his fallen agent. Bobby had even caught the Official crying at Darien's bedside the night before. It was nice to know that even the cold-hearted Official could care about someone like Darien.
Eberts had been running back and forth between Darien and the Official, running errands for Claire and trying to organize Agency business for the Official. But he always found the time to visit Darien every single morning.
Bobby had spent the previous week and a half with his partner, reading him books and engaging in one-sided conversations with him. He wanted Darien to know that he wasn't alone, that someone was right there next to him waiting patiently for him to return to the land of living. It was the least he could do.
A soft groan made Bobby start in his chair. He was instantly off his feet and at Darien's side. "Fawkes, you gonna wake up?" he asked as he grabbed onto Darien's hand.
Darien's eyes fluttered several times, opened and then widened when he saw Bobby only inches away from his face. "Oh great, I'm in hell aren't I?" he whispered, the sarcasm spilling through the hoarseness of his tone.
Bobby poured a glass of water from a pitcher next to the bed and brought it up to Darien's lips. Darien took several swallows and then nodded his head. "Thanks."
"How you doin', partner?" asked Bobby.
"I've been better," replied Darien honestly.
"Yeah well, we almost lost you there, my friend. Scared the hell out of me and Claire, not to mention Eberts," said Bobby.
Darien's lips curled into a smile. "Sorry," he said softly. "I went for a few minutes there, didn't I?"
"Yeah," muttered Bobby.
"I felt you guys pull me back," he whispered.
"Well we kind of like having you around. Life is much more interesting with you in it, my friend," said Bobby. He cleared his throat and then stood up, letting go of Darien's hand. "I should get the Keep and tell her you're awake."
"Not for much longer," said Darien as his eyes drifted shut.
Bobby watched Darien for a few minutes, thinking he had fallen asleep. He stepped to his partner and kissed him on the forehead. "Thanks for saving my life, buddy," he whispered.
He stepped away from the bed and started walking out the door. Then the voice of his partner stopped him in his tracks.
"Thanks for saving mine," he heard Darien mutter in a half-asleep tone.
Bobby smiled and then strutted happily out the door.
That's All Folks
(Anybody interested in reading a sequel to this one? Darien's recovery and the rebuilding of the Agency?)
