Sacrifices (9/?)

By Carol M.

See prologue for details

Note: Thanks so much for all the feedback, guys! Here's some more angst for ya…

Darien's breath tightened in his chest as he took in the sight before him. They were all there in the Official's office. His mother, his father, Kevin, Casey, Jessica, Kate, Allianora, Alex, Bobby, and Claire. Each was fastened down tightly to a chair, unable to move a muscle. Darien stood at the edge of the room, seemingly frozen in place.

Trey was there, holding his gun to Darien's mother's head. She looked at her son, tears slipping down her cheeks. "Help me, honey," she cried out.

But Darien couldn't. No matter how hard he tried to move his feet, nothing would budge. He was completely helpless and powerless to stop the situation unfolding before his eyes.

Trey glanced up at Darien and then fired the gun, killing his mother instantly. Trey stepped over to Darien's father next and pushed the gun firmly against his head. His father closed his eyes and slumped over when the bullet ripped his skull apart.

"Dad," Darien screamed as Trey suddenly morphed into Arnaud. Arnaud stepped to Kevin and put the gun to his head. Kevin's desperate eyes landed on Darien. "Please," he mouthed. But soon, his brains were also scattered against the wall.

Arnaud continued down the line, killing Casey, Jessica, Kate and Allianora. When Arnaud got to Alex, he morphed into Stark. "James," screamed Alex. But Stark shot her too.

Suddenly, Stark was Trey again as he moved to Bobby. Darien could see Bobby trying to stoically accept the fact that he was going to die. Bobby glanced at Darien and simply said, "I'll see you on the other side, partner." Soon, he too was a memory.

And then there was Claire. She was the last in line, so to speak. She was sobbing hysterical tears and her face stared at Darien's with a look of absolute horror. "Please, Darien, I don't want to die!" she screamed.

"No! Not her too," Darien heard himself scream. And suddenly, Trey turned into a silver-eyed version of himself. The silver-eyed Darien smiled at his sane counterpart and then pulled the trigger, blowing Claire's head off.

Sane Darien stared at the carnage of the bodies of everyone he loved in the entire world strewn about the office. He watched in horror as his silver-eyed twin stepped towards him, the gun aimed at his head. "Time to join your friends, Fawkesy," said the wacked out Darien.

Sane Darien closed his eyes and waited with an almost grateful attitude for the end.

"No!" cried out Darien as he bolted upright in bed. His breath was coming hard and fast in short wheezing gasps. His vision was blurred from the tears that were flowing down his face. And worst of all, his heart ached for all the people that were gone. "Claire," he whispered wildly. He pressed his hand in the space next to him in the bed and found that it was empty. He looked over at the couch and found it empty as well.

"Claire…Claire…where are you?" he called out. "Oh god, please be okay, please be okay," he cried out. He fell back against his pillow, lacking the strength to stay up right. "Claire," he whispered pitifully.

The sudden sound of a key turning in the door caused his head to turn. "Claire?" he yelled, tears trickling out of his eyes.

Claire stepped through the door and gasped in horror when she saw Darien. "Oh my god, Darien, what happened? Are you all right," she said as she ran over to his bed.

Darien sat up again despite the protests from his weak body. "You're alive, you're alive," he cried out in relief as he reached out for her. He pulled her against him and hugged her as tight as his dwindling strength would allow.

Claire rested her head on top of Darien's head and ran her fingers through the hairs on the back of his neck. "What happened?" she asked with concern.

Darien pulled away from her and shook his head. "Nothing, nothing happened, I'm fine."

Claire sat down on the bed and took his hand. "You're not okay, Darien. You're shaking, you're crying."

Darien shook his head. "I'm fine, I'm fine," he said as he wiped at his eyes and then gazed around the room. His eyes suddenly landed on his favorite quote book sitting in a bookshelf across the room. That would make him feel better. That would calm him down. He had to get to that book. He started to push his way off the bed, despite Claire's protests.

"Darien, stop," said Claire in a confused tone. "What do you want, I'll go get you whatever you want," she said.

Darien shook his head and pushed himself off the bed. He got into a standing position and nearly ended up face first on the floor.

"Darien," said Claire as she grabbed his arm to steady him.

Darien slapped the arm away. "I can do it, damn it, I can do it," he shouted. He took a deep breath and began to slowly put one foot in front of the other, moving an inch about every five seconds.

Claire was instantly off the bed and dragging him back towards the bed. "Darien, you're going to hurt yourself," she said as she took a hold of his arm again.

With strength Darien didn't know he had, he pulled his arm roughly from her grasp and continued walking towards the bookshelf. "I need the book," he whispered in an eerie tone that chilled Claire to the core.

Claire nodded and stepped back, giving him enough room to walk, but also allowing for space in case in started to falter.

Darien got about halfway across the room when the world suddenly started to turn upside. He started to sway on his feet and Claire knew he was about a second away from a nosedive. She instantly stepped forward and placed a hand on his back.

Darien shrugged out of her grasp and carried on, determined to make it to the book. But his body had other ideas. He took another step and then everything seemed to go black. He fell to the ground in a crumpled heap, nearly whacking his head on the coffee table. "Damn it!" he shouted hysterically.

Claire stepped forward to help him up, but Darien put a hand up to stop her.

"Don't! God, I can't even walk without your help! I can't do anything," shouted Darien, his voice quickly turning into something that sounded like a sob.

Claire stood frozen in her place, nodding her head. "Get it out, Darien," she whispered softly.

"I hate this!" he screamed, the tears once again returning to his eyes. "I want Alex back, I want Bobby back, hell I want everyone back! I didn't deserve this. Alex didn't deserve to die. It's not fair!"

"I know it wasn't, Darien," whispered Claire, tears sparkling in her own eyes.

"All for that stupid disk!" he paused and took a breath, which seemingly made him calmer. "I understand about Bobby and the code, you know. I mean, there were thousands of lives at stake and it's Bobby's job to protect the country, not just me," he said, trying to shrug it off. But his quick breaths and teary eyes told another story, something much different then what had just come out of his mouth.

Claire instantly picked up on it and nodded her head. "Say it, Darien," she whispered. "Go ahead and say it."

He looked at her and sighed, his body trembling with weakness. "Why didn't he give up the code, Claire?" he said in the most fragile voice she had ever heard him use.

She shook her head sadly. "I don't know, Darien."

"It hurt," continued Darien. "It really hurt. I'm not mad at him. I could never be mad at him. It was a brave thing what he did. But now…I mean…why isn't he here? I just want him here and he's not…and that just…it hurts."

"You have a right to be upset, Darien," whispered Claire. "In fact, I'd be worried if you weren't."

Darien started taking deep breaths, trying to calm himself down. But the more he tried to calm himself, the more upset he began to feel. And finally, something inside of him just broke and he finally let go. "God!" he screamed "I would have done it for him. Damn it, I would've done it for him! You know I would have. He's my partner. He's my friend," he said as he pounded his fists into the carpet. "Maybe everyone's right, maybe I'm not worth it. What's another dead ex-con, right?"

"Don't say that, Darien," said Claire as she stepped closer to him.

"Why did Alex break anyway? Her life was worth a hell of a lot more than mine was. She shouldn't have died for this thing, Claire. Why did it all happen?" he said gazing at her. "Huh?" he shouted.

Claire didn't respond. Instead she started to cry.

"Why can't it just go back to the way it was? I mean, it wasn't great, but it was something. It was normal. Some days it was even fun. I had partner then. I had a best friend then. I had a hot chick co-worker who wore shirts that were too tight. What's wrong with that? What's wrong with any of it? What did we do? What the hell did any of us do to deserve this?" yelled Darien.

Claire wiped at her face and stepped closer to Darien. "Things just happen, Darien. There's nothing we can do about it."

Darien paused to think about what she had just said and then nodded his head slightly. "I just want Hobbesy back."

Claire took that as her cue and stepped up to him, taking him into her arms. "I know you do, Darien," she whispered into his ear.

And then he started to sob. Harsh, loud sobs that pained her ears to hear. But it was just what he needed. He needed to deal with everything that had had happened so he could get through it. She grasped him tightly and rocked him back and forth in her arms, her handing rubbing comforting circles on his back.

After awhile, she half dragged, half carried his broken body to the couch and sat back heavily against the cushions, letting Darien lay out across her body. Darien put his head in her lap and wrapped his arms around her waist, still sobbing. "I'm sorry," he kept whispering over and over again. "I'm so sorry for being like this."

Claire leaned down and kissed the top of his head. "Don't be sorry. You've been through hell. You need a shoulder to cry on and I'm glad to be that shoulder. Honored, in fact."

This only managed to make Darien cry harder as he curled farther into her lap. Claire was crying now as well. Crying for Darien, crying for Alex, crying for Bobby and crying for herself. She supposed she and Darien were lucky in a way. They had each other. And while she would probably never admit it to him, she needed Darien just as much as he needed her.

The simultaneous sobbing continued for another 45 minutes, gradually dying down into sniffles and hiccups for both of them. Darien removed his arms from her waist and let them drape down at his sides. He rolled his body so be was able to look up at Claire's face. "Keep," he sniffled, reaching his hand up to touch her cheek and wipe her tears away.

Claire smiled slightly and reached her own hand down to his face, wiping his tears away as well. Then she moved her hand to his hair and began running her fingers through it, massaging his scalp. "You should get some rest," she whispered in a tired voice.

He nodded slightly and wiped at his nose, sniffing hard to get rid of the evidence of his tears.

"Bed?" asked Claire as she gently lifted him off of her so she could get up and then lay him back against the couch.

Darien weakly shook his head, his eyes drifting shut. "Can't make it," he murmured. "You take it."

Claire nodded and left his side, returning moments later with a spare blanket and pillow. She carefully placed the pillow under his head and then wrapped the blanket tightly around his body.

"Thanks," he whispered.

"Goodnight, Darien," said Claire as she leaned down and kissed his cheek.

Darien smacked his lips. "Night, Claire," he said in a child-like voice.

Claire watched him until he relaxed into sleep and then slowly made her way over to his bed. She took off her shoes and crawled under the covers, her nose smelling Darien's scent on everything she touched. She wrapped the blankets around herself and inhaled, letting his scent penetrate deep inside her brain. She let the comforting scent lull her into the deepest sleep she had had in a week.

**

Hours later across town, sleep had eluded Bobby Hobbes. In fact, sleep was the last thing on his mind. His phone had been in his hand for hours, Darien's phone number ready to be punched in at a moment's notice despite his extremely drunken state. In the other hand, was his gun, one bullet loaded into the chamber.

His mind was a film reel, replaying images of Darien's eyes in the Official's office, begging for his life over and over again, and replaying Alex's slow, bloody fall to the ground as her body was wracked with bullets. The images mixed together in his mind causing one big reel of gruesome horror that he now realized he would never be able to escape.

He took a deep breath and made his final decision. With shaky fingers, he dialed the number he knew by heart, waiting with bated breath for someone to pickup. After three rings, someone did.

"H'llo," he heard a groggy female voice answer. Claire.

Bobby couldn't speak. His throat burned and the only sound that would come out was the soft, desperate sounds of his raspy breathing.

"Bobby, is that you?" asked Claire in a worried tone, sounding much more awake than she had even a second ago.

He took a breath and swallowed, willing his brain and his mouth to cooperate so he could speak. "Darien," he finally managed to crackle out.

He could almost see Claire nodding. "Alright," she whispered. He could hear movement and deduced that she was getting up to give the phone to Darien.

A second later, he heard his partner's voice, making his throat tighten. "Hobbes?" whispered Darien in a tone that was happiness, sadness, anger and relief all in one word.

Bobby swallowed again, a huge lump forming in his throat. "I'm…I'm sorry, partner," he whispered, his voice threatening to become a sob. Then he hung up the phone and looked down at his gun, his fingers tightening around the trigger.

TBC