~~Thursday ~~
My arms laden with reports and test results, I walk into the Official's office to find both him and Albert working on something. I find I don't really care what. The Official insisted that I come in and make a report in person on Alyx and Darien's condition. Annoying as all hell right now, especially at this godforsaken hour. The security at the protected lab is very, very high, making the simple acts of coming and going a pain in the ass. The CDC also doesn't like the locations of its high security contaminant labs and storage facilities to be advertised to the public at large, so this particular facility is buried in a small mountain about an hour southeast of the city. The facility is one of the most secure of its type, and it would take a major earthquake to do any appreciable damage to it.
My main concern is being away from Alyx for such a long period of time. While she had, somehow, been correct about Darien's state of heath, she was doing less than well herself. We are using every secondary method, pulling every trick in the book to keep her stable until we can get access to the contents of the case. We feed her liquid forms of fever-reducing drugs, pack her in ice to keep her temperature down, and load her up on expectorants and decongestants to help keep her lungs clear. Every time she lays flat, she finds herself nearly drowning due to the fluid buildup in her lungs, so Darien keeps her propped up with pillows and blankets, keeps her as calm and amused as possible, and tries to not let his worry spill over onto her.
Darien is recovering, without any more help from us. There haven't even been any complications with the quicksilver this time, since the gland didn't fall ill or evidence any temporary mutations like had occurred with Arnaud's flu. He'll still need to spend a few days getting his strength back, but the worst is past for him, at least where his health is concerned.
I don't give the Official a chance to speak first. "Has Bobby been able to get the equipment Darien requested?"
The Official and Eberts glance at one another for a second before Eberts begins. "Officially, Agent Hobbes' request for certain items has been denied."
"Unofficially, there is nothing we can do to stop him from doing what he wants with said items," the Official says, completing their combined thought.
Much like Darien, I am convinced they practice this, but the news is good enough. Bobby will have everything, I have complete confidence in that. "Is there a reason this report needed to be done in person? I shouldn't be away from Alyx for very long."
They do that annoying glance again. "We would rather this discussion remain private, as some of our others have not," Eberts answers, once they are done communicating with their version of telepathy.
I am not very surprised to learn there have been people listening in on the supposedly secure communications. It is almost unavoidable in this business. But who would concern themselves with two sick agents, and why? Those were the real questions. "What was the reason you had Alyx play courier for this? Was this some odd test of loyalty for her?" I am truly curious. While I know Alyx isn't all that happy here, I also know she made her choice and has stood behind it one hundred percent. When she signed that agreement with the Official, she had every intention of meeting its conditions and still does, even as she lays dying because she was just doing her job.
The Official grunts something unintelligible and removes his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. "No, it was definitely not a test of *her* loyalty."
It dawns on me then. "It was a test of yours. Wasn't it? To see if you'd put her in a compromising situation for the greater good." I know some of what has been going on since Alyx returned from Newport. The Official has asked me to ... exaggerate the severity of her injuries on a few occasions, and when I confronted him about it, he explained it was to keep her from being sent to work temporarily for another agency. The few other times it has happened since, I didn't ask and simply did it. There is obviously something going on behind the scenes, and I have the oddest feeling he was actually trying to protect "her" more than just his "investment."
He nods. "And it backfired on everyone involved." His voice lowers. "She should not have to pay for the greed of others."
"I need access to the virus. Without it, she may not last the day," I tell him truthfully and he shakes his head while laughing harshly.
"They can't, without admitting their error. You will have to hope Fawkes can gain access to the contents of the case. We are reasonably sure the samples that remain are legitimate," Eberts rattles off in that smooth, calm voice of his. He has very nearly perfected the art of emotionlessness. He still slips up now and then, still makes the occasional comment out of turn, still is sometimes human.
"Hope is all I have left," I say, and that facade of cool uncaring on the Official's face cracks. That happens so rarely that, once again, it surprises me. He may use them, like pieces on a chessboard, but he also cares in his own way.
"Doctor, I want you to do everything you can to keep her alive. If we have to take a crowbar to the package, I want it done. Do you understand me?" The anger and pain in his voice silences mine for the moment and I can only nod.
Eberts comes to my rescue. "Hobbes should be arriving within the hour, according to his schedule."
"Ah, yes. I'll be going, then, and I'll call as soon as I know anything." They haven't even asked for the papers I'm holding, but that's all right. Bringing me here to give a report was a pretense. They wanted me to understand the true situation: that Alyx had been set up to make sure the Official was loyal. The thought that it may very well be the cause of her untimely demise sickens me. There are days I hate the games that are played in this business.
I don't look back, but once I'm out the door and down the hallway, I stop to lean against the wall. I'm tired and afraid. Afraid for Alyx, afraid for Darien, and, maybe, afraid a bit for myself as well.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
With a groan that sounded far more like rusted gears grinding together, Alyx pried her eyes open to meet the concerned, brown-eyed gaze of Darien. He was placing a new ice filled towel against her forehead. He found it annoyingly ironic that, just a few weeks ago, they would have done just about anything to get her warm and then gotten stuck in the middle of a blizzard. Now they had to wrap her in ice to prevent her from burning up from the inside. "Hey you, Hobbes'll be in soon. We're waiting for the Keep to finish getting ready."
Alyx swallowed and tried not to shiver. She'd been dreaming of fire again, could even still smell the memory of smoke, and another, far more acrid scent that she couldn't identify. "Hurts," she got past a dry throat.
"Here." Darien handed her the cup of water and helped her to drink it. She was so very weak right now. He'd hated to wake her, but they needed her conscious while they worked on the cuff in case there were problems. "Is it your back again?"
"Wrist," she answered and lifted her left hand up to show him. "I can't get it to stop."
Darien carefully took her hand. She'd explained some hours ago that her control was shot, and she was just barely keeping minimum shields in place. At first he thought that the cuff, which was fit intentionally snug, had begun to chafe her, rubbing the skin raw, but a closer look revealed that to not be the case. Somehow, the small amount of electricity running through it was burning her and causing her wrist to swell until it was tight against the cuff. "Crap. Can I do anything?"
"Just get it off me." Her eyes slipped shut and she sagged for a moment before gathering what little strength she could. "And soon. I... I'm not feeling too well, Dare." It was an understatement, but somehow she knew that the truth was not something he wanted to hear.
Grabbing another towel, he tossed some ice into it from the cooler that had been brought in and laid it over her wrist. He needed the swelling down so that he could work on the cuff. "Alyx...don't give up on me, okay? Fight this."
"Why? Aside from keeping the bomb from going off." Alyx began shifting, knowing she would need to be in a different position for Darien to work on the cuff. With Darien assisting her, she got herself settled sideways on the bed, leaning back against the cool metal wall, propped up with pillows. She brought her legs up and crossed them in front of her, trying to ignore all the aches and stiffness that had invaded. She was betting she looked about ten times worse than she felt, and she felt horrible. It was strange -- she'd never have expected him to be so willing to help, the Official's orders or not. "I'm the only one left. Does it really matter at this point?"
Darien was stunned for moment, and then became angry. "Of course it matters. Do you really think I... that any of us could just sit back and let you die?" Alyx met his eyes for a moment and then turned away. Reaching out, he grasped her chin and made her face him. "If you do, you're a fool. I..." He shook his head, realizing that the words that had almost left his mouth would be the last ones she wanted to hear right now. "Something bad happened to you, I get that now, but you wouldn't be able to care about any of us if it really mattered anymore."
When Alyx glared back at him defiantly, he released her. "How can you care the least little bit, and yet not trust?"
"'Cause they're not the same, Darien." She removed the towel from her forehead, the ice already half-melted, and flung it away. "I've learned my lesson. Had it pounded into me time and time again. Don't trust. Not even myself." She was forced to stop as another round of coughing assaulted her, leaving her even weaker than before. "Darien, I gave up on humanity a long time ago. The only thing that kept me going was my children. I had very little life beyond them, and just when I thought I might be able to do the one thing..." She trailed off. "It's not important."
"What?" She looked away again. "You can talk to me about anything, Alyx. I just want to understand." This time he didn't make her face him.
"It's not important, Darien. 'Cause instead of ... doing that, I ended up here. I even have perfect strangers betraying me. My own government." Her voice was harsh, raw-sounding by the end, but she was also cold and in control. "I won't go through that again."
The arrival of Bobby and Claire forestalled any argument he might have made on the subject. Climbing off the bed, he went to the cart of gear Bobby had rolled in, while Claire moved to Alyx to examine her. Darien picked up the piece of electronics he wanted to begin with, as well as a small set of tools, and then met Hobbes' gaze through the plastic shield of the protective suit.
"Sorry to interrupt, my friend." Enough of the conversation had been overheard via the pick-ups in the room for Bobby to have a damn good idea how his far-too-caring partner was feeling right about now.
Darien shrugged. "You're right, I can't force her, but I can't just let her give up either."
"This has nothing to do with the Fat Man's orders, does it?" He had overheard Darien's comment to Claire while he was changing yesterday evening. The speaker in his helmet had picked up the conversation between the Keep and Darien.
"Actually, it does. I'll protect her from herself if I have to." Darien gave Hobbes wry grin. "Just like you've done for me a time or two."
Hobbes studied him for a long moment and then gave a quick nod of understanding. It was looking like Fawkes had learned a few things over the long months they'd been partnered together. A few of the right things. "You ready to do this?"
"No choice, Hobbes. It's now or never." Noting another piece of gear that he hadn't even thought of, he grabbed it and carried all the items back over to the bed where Claire was still sitting next to Alyx.
"How's she doing, Keepy?" Bobby asked. He rolled the cart closer, so that the items would be in easy reach for Darien if and when he needed them.
Claire looked at Alyx, who was still conscious, though barely. "Tell 'em."
"Tell us what?" Hobbes asked as he dragged over one of the chairs to sit at the foot of the bed.
Instead of answering Claire got to her feet so that Darien could sit down and get to work.
"Keep, what's going on with the kid?" Hobbes asked again, and watched as she shook her head and mouthed 'not now' to him. With a soft growl of irritation at being kept in the dark, he turned to watch Fawkes as he got to work. He'd put on the visor with the small but powerful light mounted on it. Better than shoving a mag-lite in his mouth, like he usually did. Then he glanced at Alyx, who was looking right at him. He'd avoided looking at her simply because what he saw frightened him. She was dying and she knew it, was facing it with little fear for herself, was hanging on simply for Fawkes' sake at this point. He was about to say something, but she shook her head slightly and he closed his mouth, leaving the words unsaid.
Darien got himself comfortable and moved the ice pack off Alyx's wrist, relieved to see the swelling had gone down a bit. He was able to move the cuff until the seam he'd noted earlier was where he wanted it. Then he glanced at Alyx. "You ready?"
"Yes," she answered softly. The last time she'd been conscious, they'd discussed what he intended to do, and he'd asked for her help. Because of the way she could manipulate electronics, he was hoping she could speed up the process a bit. Plus, she would be able to monitor the trigger for the bomb and warn them if he had accidentally set it off. Though at this point she wasn't sure if she'd be able to contain the blast if they did. She could barely focus her eyes on Darien, and her mind was fully occupied with keeping her shields up and monitoring. With her shields as weak as they were, she had no choice but to monitor anyway, since she was picking up every bit of electronics in the room and then some. But doing anything more than that might be a serious challenge.
He wanted to say any of a dozen things to make her feel better, to give her some sort of confidence in him, heck, to boost his own confidence. But he remained silent, flipping on the light and focusing it on the cuff. Pulling out one of the small tools, he gently went to work prying the covering of the cuff. It was stubborn at first and took a bit more force than he liked, but he got it off and was able to examine the interior. Lots of wires, he was dismayed to realize, and a microchip that was its brain. Setting aside the tools, he picked up the electronic pad with the thin metal probe attached and began to test the various connections to get an idea of what was going on inside the device. For about half the wires, he couldn't get a reading strong enough to register and sighed.
"I'm going to have to strip some of these wires."
"Okay," Alyx responded to let him know she'd heard him. "They're talking to one another."
"What?" Darien asked as he carefully removed the red covering from one of the wires.
"Ahh, there's another chip buried in the case. They talk to one another, and they are currently discussing a hell of a lot because of what you're doing." Alyx had closed her eyes to concentrate, her head tipped to the side as she 'listened' to what the chips were saying to each other.
"Alyx..." Darien had stopped what he was doing for the moment, not wanting to take any more risks than necessary.
"You're fine for now. My heartbeat being a bit erratic isn't helping much." She made the statement in the same tone of voice she would have announced the time of day, and she caught the sudden wave of fear that came off of him. The one that flowed off of Bobby was nearly as strong, but since she wasn't in direct contact with him it was easier to deal with. Claire was being very careful to keep her emotions in control, and Alyx was extremely thankful for that. Darien's hands dropped away and began to shake slightly. "Darien." He lifted his head to meet her eyes. "Don't stop now."
"Right, sorry." He got himself back under control and stripped of sections of the other wires, allowing him the access he needed. Bringing the probe back, he began to hunt for the connection he needed. It seemed to take forever, but couldn't have been more than five minutes. "Aha, gotcha."
"Fawkes?" Hobbes asked quietly, not wanting to break Darien's concentration.
"Found the connection I want." Reaching for the tray which Hobbes rolled closer to him he picked up what looked like a computer pad that included an number generator. It wasn't the piece he had used for many years, but was similar enough that he could work it with ease. "Alyx, you keeping an eye on things?" Her eyes were open, but she looked exhausted, slumped down into the pillows stuffed around her. Her breathing was a frightening rattle.
She coughed softly, fighting the urge to double over and clear her lungs as much as she could. "On it," she mumbled.
After attaching the alligator clips to the correct spots, he flipped the switch and the little computer pad starting searching for the correct code. Since they had no idea how many numbers were needed, he'd set it for the maximum it could generate -- twelve digits -- and let it go. Now all he could do was wait. He kept alternating between watching the pad and Alyx as the machine seemed to run through various combinations at a crawl, searching for the correct one.
Keeping her left arm perfectly still, Alyx shifted and placed her right hand atop the computer pad. She looked at Darien for a second before her eyes unfocused and she switched her attention to the electronics. She sped up the search. Within minutes, it had the correct numbers locked and sent the signal to the cuff, which instantly shut down and separated, falling from her wrist and onto Darien's leg, where it hung from its leash to the case.
"The case," Alyx ordered, meeting his eyes again. He responded by dragging it over and setting her right hand atop it. As she had suspected, there was a default for the bomb that was waiting for a command sequence to be tapped into the keypad on the case itself. A code they did not have and had no time to find, but now that things were active inside the case, she was able to manipulate it. Normally she would have been able to play with it, convince it everything was as it should be, but not now. Instead, she simply shorted the system. With no electronics to send the command, the explosives could not be set off. She double-checked to make sure there was nothing inside that could activate and set off the self-destruct, then returned to herself. "It's safe," she got out before collapsing completely.
Hobbes grabbed the case from the bed and headed out of the room. There was a secure room nearby, set aside for them to get into the case and retrieve the samples. "Claire."
"I'll be right there. I have to check on Alyx first." She was already helping Darien get her sitting back up and trying to get her to focus. "Five minutes."
"No more than that, Keep," Hobbes said as the door slid open and he stepped through.
"Alyx, come on and wake up," Darien said as he looked over the wrist that had been injured by the cuff.
Claire had already taken her temperature and was trying to find her pulse, but it was difficult through the gloves at the best of times and now was nearly impossible. "Bloody hell. Darien, find her pulse for me."
Darien didn't say a word and pressed his fingers to the artery in her throat. "It's there, but weak. What's going on, Claire?" There was no way he could keep the fright from his voice.
"Darien, try and get her conscious. I should be back in fifteen minutes with what I need." Claire set one hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently. Without another word, she left the room to meet Bobby, who had hopefully gotten the case open for her without damaging the contents.
Darien turned back to Alyx, who had pried her eyes open to look at him. "Thank you," she mumbled to him. Reaching up, she set a hand on the side of his face and gave him a small smile.
He was very surprised when, instead of being warm, her hand was actually quite cool. For a moment, relief swept through him, thinking her fever had finally broken, but when her eyes closed and she crumpled, her hand dropping away, he knew it was something else altogether. "Alyx, don't you dare do this to me!"
To him? Alyx half-thought as she just let herself fall. Thought it was my life...what's left of it, anyway.
Darien froze, not sure what to do, how to react. With trembling hands, he got her settled a bit more comfortably. He knew she was still alive; the short, staccato sound of her breathing was a pleasure to hear at this point, no matter how far from the norm it was.
Over the months since coming to the Agency, he'd faced the deaths of many people he cared about. Kevin, first at the lab, and then Arnaud's cruel joke that took him back to Cold Springs for a time. Then Bobby, with that genius virus that, even as it made him smarter, was killing him. It took a sacrifice by Darien himself to make him see the real truth, that intelligence is nothing without emotion, without friends. And it was the first time Darien had truly realized that Bobby had become his friend and not just his partner, or Agency-paid baby-sitter.
Then there had been Allianora. A freak like him -- except working for the enemy -- to whom he he'd been drawn because of that situation. That had been a relationship to nowhere, but to have her die because of it ... he still had nightmares about it. The crimson tide and the water flowing together across the tiled floor, the smell of chlorine and the coppery scent of blood mixing together. He blamed himself for her death. If had hadn't gotten so damn cocky when he went after that Chrysalis goon, he might not have ended up in that pool and she would not have felt the need to save him. To sacrifice her life for his.
And now there was Alyx. Dragged into this life because of him, because the 'Fish was getting tired of using the regular threats to get him to toe the line, because the Keeper had failed to do her job as thoroughly as she might have. Her little and not-so-little manipulations and subtle training had not worked as completely as they should have, mainly because she had come to care about him as a person and not as just a lab rat. As a friend.
Alyx, who had somehow wormed her way past his defenses the first time their eyes had met in that padded room. He'd started his fall then and wanted it to continue, but not at the cost of her unhappiness. And even he knew she was still unhappy. He was, too, on most days, but he kept going because there was hope, and there were things he liked about his life, people he cared about, and things he wanted to accomplish. Reasons to live.
"Alyx, I... I just want to say I'm sorry. I shouldn't have talked you into anything. I should have just waited and ... and been there for you. Needs and not wants, right? Well, strange as this may sound, I need you Alyx. You scare the hell out of me at times, you drive me right up a wall and over the edge, but, like good old Bobby Hobbes, you're worth it." He spoke softly, not because he was concerned about being overheard by those in the other room, but because he simply couldn't find his voice, could hardly believe he was putting the jumbled and confused emotions he'd been feeling into coherent words.
"I know you think your life sucks right now -- hell, it probably does compared to what you had before you came here -- but it'll get better. It has to. I won't let it happen any other way. You deserve better than this, better than a stupid death for the Agency. Better than me." He closed his eyes and just listened to her breathe for several minutes. His sudden burst of words having gone from a flood to a trickle, he fell back onto the words of others to continue. "'Just trust yourself, then you will know how to live.' Von Goethe. I believe in you Alyx, trust you, and have since the first time we met. Wish I knew why, but I did -- do -- and I don't think that trust has been misplaced, has it?"
He leaned down and rubbed her fingers against his cheek, then realized with he was sporting several days of stubble and must look like a wreck. His hair hanging in his eyes, pale and shaky from being ill, yet she'd mentioned none of it, and he knew it wasn't out of politeness on her part. She'd never hesitated to make commentary about other things, including his ... unique fashion sense, though she seemed to like it, odd as it was. "I can't believe you'd have let me into your life as much as you have if you didn't trust me at least a little. You know what I am, what I was, yet you still let me hang out with you at all hours of the night. Let me in past that wall you like to put up, let me close enough that I know about that little sound you make when I kiss the back of your neck, that when we kiss you go weak-kneed and sometimes can't keep from broadcasting what you're feeling to me. That some days you're still so very confused about who you are." Darien wasn't entirely sure what he was saying anymore, or why. He just knew he needed to keep talking to her, that if he stopped, if the flow of words were to become dammed, he'd lose her. He did not want the death of another person on his already abused conscience.
"Please, Alyx, don't give in now. Give yourself a chance to live for a while; who knows, you might even come to like it." He smiled slightly. "Have to admit, if it wasn't for the madness, this invisibility thing could be kinda fun. And not just from the perspective of one practiced in the arts of nighttime larceny. It's been so long now that I don't quite know what I'd do without it. But don't tell them that -- wouldn't want them to think I'm happy or anything." Okay, so he wasn't actually happy. Blackmail was never something he had gotten into and, having now lived with it from the other side, he was glad. He might never be satisfied until the gland was removed, might never be completely happy so long as he was an unwilling employee of the Official, but he could find some contentment at least.
The door to the room opened and Darien turned to see Claire come in, wielding one hell of a syringe. "Please tell me that's it?"
"This is it," Claire answered as she moved to Alyx's side. She only hesitated a second before injecting the contents into her upper arm. That's when Darien realized she wasn't wearing the headgear.
"Keep, you trying to get yourself killed?" he hissed. He didn't need her falling ill as well.
Claire set the syringe down among the other pieces of gear, the ones Darien had requested but not needed. "We finished the tests. It's not contagious person-to-person. Makes it a nice, neat assassination bug." She had stripped off the gloves and took Alyx's hand into hers to feel for a pulse. She found it, but was not overly comforted by it. Nor by the cold and clammy feel to Alyx's skin. Checking her forehead, she could still feel the fever, but it wasn't nearly as high as before. "All right, get rid of the ice and wrap her in blankets; her core temp is dropping and we need to get it back up."
Darien didn't argue and tossed the towels onto the floor while Claire fetched every spare blanket, which they then wrapped around Alyx. "How fast will it work?" he asked as he returned to his position near her side, holding one hand in his.
"If it works at all, we should see the results fairly quickly," Claire answered as she fetched the blood pressure cuff and stethoscope.
"What do you mean 'if it works'?" Darien almost shouted. "You said all you needed was to get into the case and you could find the matching antibodies."
"Yes, Darien, but she may be too far gone for it to help," Claire explained sadly as she moved Alyx's shirt aside and slid her hand underneath to listen to her lungs.
"Ah.... crap." Darien muttered.
Alyx overheard of all this, though to her it was as if she was slowly sinking down to the bottom of a very deep well, the water distorting the words and their meaning, causing them to impact upon her with less force than if she had been fully aware. Part of her found the words Darien had softly proclaimed to her frightening, not because she hadn't known he cared about her, but because he was right. He was right, and she was too damn afraid to admit it, even to herself.
So she did what she always did lately -- she ran away. She found herself embroiled in flashes of her past, searching for some sort of connection to herself, perhaps trying to find that one defining moment when trust was easy and natural. She passed over the past months here with the Agency -- trust had never been part of it -- to that lab she'd been at, where her teacher had abandoned her, left her to be abused by those there, to cause such harm.... That memory stopped dead, a blank wall she could not get by and, in truth, she knew she didn't want to know what lay beyond it.
Onto her children at various ages, the joy she felt at watching them grow and learn, even as she did her best to hide the truth from them -- lied to them through actions, if not words. She never understood how he could be such a good father and yet hate her so very much. He never so much as raised his voice to them. Punishments, when necessary, were appropriate and non-violent for the children. Yet he would make up reasons to leave near- bloody welts upon her back. It was amazing the damage that could be done with nothing more than straightened metal coat hanger, or with sex. What had once embodied all she had felt for him had become nothing more than another weapon in his arsenal.
She shied away; remembering those times was such a combination of pain and joy, the wounds still so very raw and near to the surface. It wasn't surprising that Claire had managed to figure it out. There were more than enough hints in the existing medical records that she, being the bright woman she was, could easily put the pieces of together and make an educated guess as to what had really been going on.
She fell further, pausing at the deaths of her parents. Her guilt was still there. She still blamed herself for their deaths and was still unable to understand why she'd not been able to prevent it. Further back, to a stray afternoon with her family, all of them alive and well. Her parents arguing over some triviality while she and her brothers tried to outdo one another on the diving board. Her older brothers, critiquing the youngest of the group. Trying to grasp onto the memory, she found it odd that she could not quite see his face. She knew it was him, could hear his voice, but for some reason could not see his face and it bothered her. The incongruity caused the happy family memory to fall apart.
She went back a couple more years, locking onto a moment that had striking similarities with her current one. She was sitting on a hospital bed, crying quietly, her back aching from the lumbar puncture they'd given her. Even then she'd bruised horribly from it, but it wasn't the pain that was causing her to cry. It was the fact that, for all the tests they'd done over the last week, nothing of use had been discovered. And still her head hurt.
Slipping into the memory, she lifted her head to see the door to her room open and the boy walk in. They'd been hanging out together while they were both stuck here. Though he was a far less willing participant in the situation, his uncle having dragged him along as punishment for some mess he'd gotten into back home.
"Hey you, what's wrong?" He looked embarrassed, since she still had tears rolling down her cheeks, but hopped up on the foot of the bed in what had become 'his' spot over the past few days. "Bad news?"
She shook her head. "No news. All these damn tests for nothing. And the one they did this morning hurt like hell." She knew her parents would take her to task for swearing, especially in front of someone younger than her, but they hadn't heard what came out of his mouth while the two of them were in here goofing around. He could swear like a sailor when he got going, and the jokes... he'd actually managed to get her to blush, some of them were so raunchy.
"Oh. Look, I know it might not mean much, but no matter how crappy me and my uncle get along, he does know what he's doing." Much to her surprise, he actually leaned forward to squeeze her hand. "Trust me -- if anyone can help you, he can."
Her heart leapt to her throat at the earnestness in his voice, at the pure faith he had in his uncle, and she found herself only able to nod.
Releasing her hand, he slipped off the bed, grabbed the box of tissues lying on a nearby table, and brought them back to her. "Here. It's hard to beat a chick at poker when she's doing the waterfall routine at you." He did that little head dip that always looked so sweet and innocent on him, considering what a hellion he was, and then met her gray-blue eyes with his brown ones.
She pulled out a tissue and managed a shaky laugh. "Poker? What, too chicken to play Truth or Dare again?"
"Nah, no fun. You always pick truth..."
"And you always pick dare," she finished. "All right, but you better not have brought that marked deck again."
The memory faded, but instead of falling further away, she began to draw closer to the surface again. Her mind ran over that day from so long ago, feeling almost deja vu over it. Like there was a connection to be made and she was unable to quite see it. She stopped again, just below the surface of the water, looking out at those waiting for her to make up her mind. To fall or to fight. The one thing she knew for sure was that the wall she had built, separating herself from the rest of the world, now had some major chinks in it, perhaps a hole or two she could look out of, providing her a view of the world that she'd not been able to see for a very long time. Lessons can be learned in the strangest of places and in the most innocent of situations, including, or maybe especially, in those simple childhood games we once played.
"And you always pick dare," Alyx mumbled aloud.
Darien turned to Claire. "What?"
Claire shook her head. "Hallucinating, I guess." She reached out to check Alyx's pulse and found it far stronger than before. Going over her in detail, Claire found her blood pressure much improved and her lungs not nearly so congested as before. "Talk to her."
"Crap, what am I supposed to say?" he muttered, more to himself than Claire. He thought for a minute. "I always pick dare, huh? How could you possibly know I usually picked that when I played as a kid? Never once chickened out, either. Even the time I was dared to break into the Mitchell's place. I got in and got out with several pieces of engraved silver to prove I'd done it." He caught the wry smile Claire had on her face even as she drew another blood sample from Alyx. "My first foray into a life of crime, I was eight or nine, I guess." He held the cotton ball in place over the newest hole in her arm when Claire was done. "Can't really remember why we started playing that game. Guess it was summer and we were bored. Kevin thought it was childish and gave up playing quickly to fiddle with his chem set some more. Trying to save the world in a day, like always. There was this one girl... she always picked truth for some reason, and always told it, too...." An odd look crossed his face.
"Darien?" Claire asked.
"Not sure, just something I half-remembered." More like it was something he couldn't believe as true, since it didn't make any sense at all.
"I'll be right back. Keep talking." Claire got to her feet and left the room with the blood sample.
Darien checked the crook of Alyx's elbow to make sure it had stopped bleeding, then tossed the cotton ball onto the nearby tray. Taking her hand, he leaned over and whispered. "You always picked truth, just to annoy me."
As if she had been waiting for those words, Alyx burst past the surface of the water and back into the air. The memories she had wandered through and the words she'd heard remained behind, leaving her with nothing but vague feelings and newfound view of those about her. Opening her eyes, she found Darien looking down at her. "Hey. Ummm, what's going on?"
Heaving a huge sigh of relief, he drew her into a gentle hug before releasing her and getting her sitting up a bit more. "Oh, nothing much." When she looked at him in complete confusion, he added. "I'll explain later, okay?"
"Sure. Why are we in the padded room's evil twin?" She was at a complete loss as to why he suddenly burst out laughing.
My arms laden with reports and test results, I walk into the Official's office to find both him and Albert working on something. I find I don't really care what. The Official insisted that I come in and make a report in person on Alyx and Darien's condition. Annoying as all hell right now, especially at this godforsaken hour. The security at the protected lab is very, very high, making the simple acts of coming and going a pain in the ass. The CDC also doesn't like the locations of its high security contaminant labs and storage facilities to be advertised to the public at large, so this particular facility is buried in a small mountain about an hour southeast of the city. The facility is one of the most secure of its type, and it would take a major earthquake to do any appreciable damage to it.
My main concern is being away from Alyx for such a long period of time. While she had, somehow, been correct about Darien's state of heath, she was doing less than well herself. We are using every secondary method, pulling every trick in the book to keep her stable until we can get access to the contents of the case. We feed her liquid forms of fever-reducing drugs, pack her in ice to keep her temperature down, and load her up on expectorants and decongestants to help keep her lungs clear. Every time she lays flat, she finds herself nearly drowning due to the fluid buildup in her lungs, so Darien keeps her propped up with pillows and blankets, keeps her as calm and amused as possible, and tries to not let his worry spill over onto her.
Darien is recovering, without any more help from us. There haven't even been any complications with the quicksilver this time, since the gland didn't fall ill or evidence any temporary mutations like had occurred with Arnaud's flu. He'll still need to spend a few days getting his strength back, but the worst is past for him, at least where his health is concerned.
I don't give the Official a chance to speak first. "Has Bobby been able to get the equipment Darien requested?"
The Official and Eberts glance at one another for a second before Eberts begins. "Officially, Agent Hobbes' request for certain items has been denied."
"Unofficially, there is nothing we can do to stop him from doing what he wants with said items," the Official says, completing their combined thought.
Much like Darien, I am convinced they practice this, but the news is good enough. Bobby will have everything, I have complete confidence in that. "Is there a reason this report needed to be done in person? I shouldn't be away from Alyx for very long."
They do that annoying glance again. "We would rather this discussion remain private, as some of our others have not," Eberts answers, once they are done communicating with their version of telepathy.
I am not very surprised to learn there have been people listening in on the supposedly secure communications. It is almost unavoidable in this business. But who would concern themselves with two sick agents, and why? Those were the real questions. "What was the reason you had Alyx play courier for this? Was this some odd test of loyalty for her?" I am truly curious. While I know Alyx isn't all that happy here, I also know she made her choice and has stood behind it one hundred percent. When she signed that agreement with the Official, she had every intention of meeting its conditions and still does, even as she lays dying because she was just doing her job.
The Official grunts something unintelligible and removes his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. "No, it was definitely not a test of *her* loyalty."
It dawns on me then. "It was a test of yours. Wasn't it? To see if you'd put her in a compromising situation for the greater good." I know some of what has been going on since Alyx returned from Newport. The Official has asked me to ... exaggerate the severity of her injuries on a few occasions, and when I confronted him about it, he explained it was to keep her from being sent to work temporarily for another agency. The few other times it has happened since, I didn't ask and simply did it. There is obviously something going on behind the scenes, and I have the oddest feeling he was actually trying to protect "her" more than just his "investment."
He nods. "And it backfired on everyone involved." His voice lowers. "She should not have to pay for the greed of others."
"I need access to the virus. Without it, she may not last the day," I tell him truthfully and he shakes his head while laughing harshly.
"They can't, without admitting their error. You will have to hope Fawkes can gain access to the contents of the case. We are reasonably sure the samples that remain are legitimate," Eberts rattles off in that smooth, calm voice of his. He has very nearly perfected the art of emotionlessness. He still slips up now and then, still makes the occasional comment out of turn, still is sometimes human.
"Hope is all I have left," I say, and that facade of cool uncaring on the Official's face cracks. That happens so rarely that, once again, it surprises me. He may use them, like pieces on a chessboard, but he also cares in his own way.
"Doctor, I want you to do everything you can to keep her alive. If we have to take a crowbar to the package, I want it done. Do you understand me?" The anger and pain in his voice silences mine for the moment and I can only nod.
Eberts comes to my rescue. "Hobbes should be arriving within the hour, according to his schedule."
"Ah, yes. I'll be going, then, and I'll call as soon as I know anything." They haven't even asked for the papers I'm holding, but that's all right. Bringing me here to give a report was a pretense. They wanted me to understand the true situation: that Alyx had been set up to make sure the Official was loyal. The thought that it may very well be the cause of her untimely demise sickens me. There are days I hate the games that are played in this business.
I don't look back, but once I'm out the door and down the hallway, I stop to lean against the wall. I'm tired and afraid. Afraid for Alyx, afraid for Darien, and, maybe, afraid a bit for myself as well.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
With a groan that sounded far more like rusted gears grinding together, Alyx pried her eyes open to meet the concerned, brown-eyed gaze of Darien. He was placing a new ice filled towel against her forehead. He found it annoyingly ironic that, just a few weeks ago, they would have done just about anything to get her warm and then gotten stuck in the middle of a blizzard. Now they had to wrap her in ice to prevent her from burning up from the inside. "Hey you, Hobbes'll be in soon. We're waiting for the Keep to finish getting ready."
Alyx swallowed and tried not to shiver. She'd been dreaming of fire again, could even still smell the memory of smoke, and another, far more acrid scent that she couldn't identify. "Hurts," she got past a dry throat.
"Here." Darien handed her the cup of water and helped her to drink it. She was so very weak right now. He'd hated to wake her, but they needed her conscious while they worked on the cuff in case there were problems. "Is it your back again?"
"Wrist," she answered and lifted her left hand up to show him. "I can't get it to stop."
Darien carefully took her hand. She'd explained some hours ago that her control was shot, and she was just barely keeping minimum shields in place. At first he thought that the cuff, which was fit intentionally snug, had begun to chafe her, rubbing the skin raw, but a closer look revealed that to not be the case. Somehow, the small amount of electricity running through it was burning her and causing her wrist to swell until it was tight against the cuff. "Crap. Can I do anything?"
"Just get it off me." Her eyes slipped shut and she sagged for a moment before gathering what little strength she could. "And soon. I... I'm not feeling too well, Dare." It was an understatement, but somehow she knew that the truth was not something he wanted to hear.
Grabbing another towel, he tossed some ice into it from the cooler that had been brought in and laid it over her wrist. He needed the swelling down so that he could work on the cuff. "Alyx...don't give up on me, okay? Fight this."
"Why? Aside from keeping the bomb from going off." Alyx began shifting, knowing she would need to be in a different position for Darien to work on the cuff. With Darien assisting her, she got herself settled sideways on the bed, leaning back against the cool metal wall, propped up with pillows. She brought her legs up and crossed them in front of her, trying to ignore all the aches and stiffness that had invaded. She was betting she looked about ten times worse than she felt, and she felt horrible. It was strange -- she'd never have expected him to be so willing to help, the Official's orders or not. "I'm the only one left. Does it really matter at this point?"
Darien was stunned for moment, and then became angry. "Of course it matters. Do you really think I... that any of us could just sit back and let you die?" Alyx met his eyes for a moment and then turned away. Reaching out, he grasped her chin and made her face him. "If you do, you're a fool. I..." He shook his head, realizing that the words that had almost left his mouth would be the last ones she wanted to hear right now. "Something bad happened to you, I get that now, but you wouldn't be able to care about any of us if it really mattered anymore."
When Alyx glared back at him defiantly, he released her. "How can you care the least little bit, and yet not trust?"
"'Cause they're not the same, Darien." She removed the towel from her forehead, the ice already half-melted, and flung it away. "I've learned my lesson. Had it pounded into me time and time again. Don't trust. Not even myself." She was forced to stop as another round of coughing assaulted her, leaving her even weaker than before. "Darien, I gave up on humanity a long time ago. The only thing that kept me going was my children. I had very little life beyond them, and just when I thought I might be able to do the one thing..." She trailed off. "It's not important."
"What?" She looked away again. "You can talk to me about anything, Alyx. I just want to understand." This time he didn't make her face him.
"It's not important, Darien. 'Cause instead of ... doing that, I ended up here. I even have perfect strangers betraying me. My own government." Her voice was harsh, raw-sounding by the end, but she was also cold and in control. "I won't go through that again."
The arrival of Bobby and Claire forestalled any argument he might have made on the subject. Climbing off the bed, he went to the cart of gear Bobby had rolled in, while Claire moved to Alyx to examine her. Darien picked up the piece of electronics he wanted to begin with, as well as a small set of tools, and then met Hobbes' gaze through the plastic shield of the protective suit.
"Sorry to interrupt, my friend." Enough of the conversation had been overheard via the pick-ups in the room for Bobby to have a damn good idea how his far-too-caring partner was feeling right about now.
Darien shrugged. "You're right, I can't force her, but I can't just let her give up either."
"This has nothing to do with the Fat Man's orders, does it?" He had overheard Darien's comment to Claire while he was changing yesterday evening. The speaker in his helmet had picked up the conversation between the Keep and Darien.
"Actually, it does. I'll protect her from herself if I have to." Darien gave Hobbes wry grin. "Just like you've done for me a time or two."
Hobbes studied him for a long moment and then gave a quick nod of understanding. It was looking like Fawkes had learned a few things over the long months they'd been partnered together. A few of the right things. "You ready to do this?"
"No choice, Hobbes. It's now or never." Noting another piece of gear that he hadn't even thought of, he grabbed it and carried all the items back over to the bed where Claire was still sitting next to Alyx.
"How's she doing, Keepy?" Bobby asked. He rolled the cart closer, so that the items would be in easy reach for Darien if and when he needed them.
Claire looked at Alyx, who was still conscious, though barely. "Tell 'em."
"Tell us what?" Hobbes asked as he dragged over one of the chairs to sit at the foot of the bed.
Instead of answering Claire got to her feet so that Darien could sit down and get to work.
"Keep, what's going on with the kid?" Hobbes asked again, and watched as she shook her head and mouthed 'not now' to him. With a soft growl of irritation at being kept in the dark, he turned to watch Fawkes as he got to work. He'd put on the visor with the small but powerful light mounted on it. Better than shoving a mag-lite in his mouth, like he usually did. Then he glanced at Alyx, who was looking right at him. He'd avoided looking at her simply because what he saw frightened him. She was dying and she knew it, was facing it with little fear for herself, was hanging on simply for Fawkes' sake at this point. He was about to say something, but she shook her head slightly and he closed his mouth, leaving the words unsaid.
Darien got himself comfortable and moved the ice pack off Alyx's wrist, relieved to see the swelling had gone down a bit. He was able to move the cuff until the seam he'd noted earlier was where he wanted it. Then he glanced at Alyx. "You ready?"
"Yes," she answered softly. The last time she'd been conscious, they'd discussed what he intended to do, and he'd asked for her help. Because of the way she could manipulate electronics, he was hoping she could speed up the process a bit. Plus, she would be able to monitor the trigger for the bomb and warn them if he had accidentally set it off. Though at this point she wasn't sure if she'd be able to contain the blast if they did. She could barely focus her eyes on Darien, and her mind was fully occupied with keeping her shields up and monitoring. With her shields as weak as they were, she had no choice but to monitor anyway, since she was picking up every bit of electronics in the room and then some. But doing anything more than that might be a serious challenge.
He wanted to say any of a dozen things to make her feel better, to give her some sort of confidence in him, heck, to boost his own confidence. But he remained silent, flipping on the light and focusing it on the cuff. Pulling out one of the small tools, he gently went to work prying the covering of the cuff. It was stubborn at first and took a bit more force than he liked, but he got it off and was able to examine the interior. Lots of wires, he was dismayed to realize, and a microchip that was its brain. Setting aside the tools, he picked up the electronic pad with the thin metal probe attached and began to test the various connections to get an idea of what was going on inside the device. For about half the wires, he couldn't get a reading strong enough to register and sighed.
"I'm going to have to strip some of these wires."
"Okay," Alyx responded to let him know she'd heard him. "They're talking to one another."
"What?" Darien asked as he carefully removed the red covering from one of the wires.
"Ahh, there's another chip buried in the case. They talk to one another, and they are currently discussing a hell of a lot because of what you're doing." Alyx had closed her eyes to concentrate, her head tipped to the side as she 'listened' to what the chips were saying to each other.
"Alyx..." Darien had stopped what he was doing for the moment, not wanting to take any more risks than necessary.
"You're fine for now. My heartbeat being a bit erratic isn't helping much." She made the statement in the same tone of voice she would have announced the time of day, and she caught the sudden wave of fear that came off of him. The one that flowed off of Bobby was nearly as strong, but since she wasn't in direct contact with him it was easier to deal with. Claire was being very careful to keep her emotions in control, and Alyx was extremely thankful for that. Darien's hands dropped away and began to shake slightly. "Darien." He lifted his head to meet her eyes. "Don't stop now."
"Right, sorry." He got himself back under control and stripped of sections of the other wires, allowing him the access he needed. Bringing the probe back, he began to hunt for the connection he needed. It seemed to take forever, but couldn't have been more than five minutes. "Aha, gotcha."
"Fawkes?" Hobbes asked quietly, not wanting to break Darien's concentration.
"Found the connection I want." Reaching for the tray which Hobbes rolled closer to him he picked up what looked like a computer pad that included an number generator. It wasn't the piece he had used for many years, but was similar enough that he could work it with ease. "Alyx, you keeping an eye on things?" Her eyes were open, but she looked exhausted, slumped down into the pillows stuffed around her. Her breathing was a frightening rattle.
She coughed softly, fighting the urge to double over and clear her lungs as much as she could. "On it," she mumbled.
After attaching the alligator clips to the correct spots, he flipped the switch and the little computer pad starting searching for the correct code. Since they had no idea how many numbers were needed, he'd set it for the maximum it could generate -- twelve digits -- and let it go. Now all he could do was wait. He kept alternating between watching the pad and Alyx as the machine seemed to run through various combinations at a crawl, searching for the correct one.
Keeping her left arm perfectly still, Alyx shifted and placed her right hand atop the computer pad. She looked at Darien for a second before her eyes unfocused and she switched her attention to the electronics. She sped up the search. Within minutes, it had the correct numbers locked and sent the signal to the cuff, which instantly shut down and separated, falling from her wrist and onto Darien's leg, where it hung from its leash to the case.
"The case," Alyx ordered, meeting his eyes again. He responded by dragging it over and setting her right hand atop it. As she had suspected, there was a default for the bomb that was waiting for a command sequence to be tapped into the keypad on the case itself. A code they did not have and had no time to find, but now that things were active inside the case, she was able to manipulate it. Normally she would have been able to play with it, convince it everything was as it should be, but not now. Instead, she simply shorted the system. With no electronics to send the command, the explosives could not be set off. She double-checked to make sure there was nothing inside that could activate and set off the self-destruct, then returned to herself. "It's safe," she got out before collapsing completely.
Hobbes grabbed the case from the bed and headed out of the room. There was a secure room nearby, set aside for them to get into the case and retrieve the samples. "Claire."
"I'll be right there. I have to check on Alyx first." She was already helping Darien get her sitting back up and trying to get her to focus. "Five minutes."
"No more than that, Keep," Hobbes said as the door slid open and he stepped through.
"Alyx, come on and wake up," Darien said as he looked over the wrist that had been injured by the cuff.
Claire had already taken her temperature and was trying to find her pulse, but it was difficult through the gloves at the best of times and now was nearly impossible. "Bloody hell. Darien, find her pulse for me."
Darien didn't say a word and pressed his fingers to the artery in her throat. "It's there, but weak. What's going on, Claire?" There was no way he could keep the fright from his voice.
"Darien, try and get her conscious. I should be back in fifteen minutes with what I need." Claire set one hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently. Without another word, she left the room to meet Bobby, who had hopefully gotten the case open for her without damaging the contents.
Darien turned back to Alyx, who had pried her eyes open to look at him. "Thank you," she mumbled to him. Reaching up, she set a hand on the side of his face and gave him a small smile.
He was very surprised when, instead of being warm, her hand was actually quite cool. For a moment, relief swept through him, thinking her fever had finally broken, but when her eyes closed and she crumpled, her hand dropping away, he knew it was something else altogether. "Alyx, don't you dare do this to me!"
To him? Alyx half-thought as she just let herself fall. Thought it was my life...what's left of it, anyway.
Darien froze, not sure what to do, how to react. With trembling hands, he got her settled a bit more comfortably. He knew she was still alive; the short, staccato sound of her breathing was a pleasure to hear at this point, no matter how far from the norm it was.
Over the months since coming to the Agency, he'd faced the deaths of many people he cared about. Kevin, first at the lab, and then Arnaud's cruel joke that took him back to Cold Springs for a time. Then Bobby, with that genius virus that, even as it made him smarter, was killing him. It took a sacrifice by Darien himself to make him see the real truth, that intelligence is nothing without emotion, without friends. And it was the first time Darien had truly realized that Bobby had become his friend and not just his partner, or Agency-paid baby-sitter.
Then there had been Allianora. A freak like him -- except working for the enemy -- to whom he he'd been drawn because of that situation. That had been a relationship to nowhere, but to have her die because of it ... he still had nightmares about it. The crimson tide and the water flowing together across the tiled floor, the smell of chlorine and the coppery scent of blood mixing together. He blamed himself for her death. If had hadn't gotten so damn cocky when he went after that Chrysalis goon, he might not have ended up in that pool and she would not have felt the need to save him. To sacrifice her life for his.
And now there was Alyx. Dragged into this life because of him, because the 'Fish was getting tired of using the regular threats to get him to toe the line, because the Keeper had failed to do her job as thoroughly as she might have. Her little and not-so-little manipulations and subtle training had not worked as completely as they should have, mainly because she had come to care about him as a person and not as just a lab rat. As a friend.
Alyx, who had somehow wormed her way past his defenses the first time their eyes had met in that padded room. He'd started his fall then and wanted it to continue, but not at the cost of her unhappiness. And even he knew she was still unhappy. He was, too, on most days, but he kept going because there was hope, and there were things he liked about his life, people he cared about, and things he wanted to accomplish. Reasons to live.
"Alyx, I... I just want to say I'm sorry. I shouldn't have talked you into anything. I should have just waited and ... and been there for you. Needs and not wants, right? Well, strange as this may sound, I need you Alyx. You scare the hell out of me at times, you drive me right up a wall and over the edge, but, like good old Bobby Hobbes, you're worth it." He spoke softly, not because he was concerned about being overheard by those in the other room, but because he simply couldn't find his voice, could hardly believe he was putting the jumbled and confused emotions he'd been feeling into coherent words.
"I know you think your life sucks right now -- hell, it probably does compared to what you had before you came here -- but it'll get better. It has to. I won't let it happen any other way. You deserve better than this, better than a stupid death for the Agency. Better than me." He closed his eyes and just listened to her breathe for several minutes. His sudden burst of words having gone from a flood to a trickle, he fell back onto the words of others to continue. "'Just trust yourself, then you will know how to live.' Von Goethe. I believe in you Alyx, trust you, and have since the first time we met. Wish I knew why, but I did -- do -- and I don't think that trust has been misplaced, has it?"
He leaned down and rubbed her fingers against his cheek, then realized with he was sporting several days of stubble and must look like a wreck. His hair hanging in his eyes, pale and shaky from being ill, yet she'd mentioned none of it, and he knew it wasn't out of politeness on her part. She'd never hesitated to make commentary about other things, including his ... unique fashion sense, though she seemed to like it, odd as it was. "I can't believe you'd have let me into your life as much as you have if you didn't trust me at least a little. You know what I am, what I was, yet you still let me hang out with you at all hours of the night. Let me in past that wall you like to put up, let me close enough that I know about that little sound you make when I kiss the back of your neck, that when we kiss you go weak-kneed and sometimes can't keep from broadcasting what you're feeling to me. That some days you're still so very confused about who you are." Darien wasn't entirely sure what he was saying anymore, or why. He just knew he needed to keep talking to her, that if he stopped, if the flow of words were to become dammed, he'd lose her. He did not want the death of another person on his already abused conscience.
"Please, Alyx, don't give in now. Give yourself a chance to live for a while; who knows, you might even come to like it." He smiled slightly. "Have to admit, if it wasn't for the madness, this invisibility thing could be kinda fun. And not just from the perspective of one practiced in the arts of nighttime larceny. It's been so long now that I don't quite know what I'd do without it. But don't tell them that -- wouldn't want them to think I'm happy or anything." Okay, so he wasn't actually happy. Blackmail was never something he had gotten into and, having now lived with it from the other side, he was glad. He might never be satisfied until the gland was removed, might never be completely happy so long as he was an unwilling employee of the Official, but he could find some contentment at least.
The door to the room opened and Darien turned to see Claire come in, wielding one hell of a syringe. "Please tell me that's it?"
"This is it," Claire answered as she moved to Alyx's side. She only hesitated a second before injecting the contents into her upper arm. That's when Darien realized she wasn't wearing the headgear.
"Keep, you trying to get yourself killed?" he hissed. He didn't need her falling ill as well.
Claire set the syringe down among the other pieces of gear, the ones Darien had requested but not needed. "We finished the tests. It's not contagious person-to-person. Makes it a nice, neat assassination bug." She had stripped off the gloves and took Alyx's hand into hers to feel for a pulse. She found it, but was not overly comforted by it. Nor by the cold and clammy feel to Alyx's skin. Checking her forehead, she could still feel the fever, but it wasn't nearly as high as before. "All right, get rid of the ice and wrap her in blankets; her core temp is dropping and we need to get it back up."
Darien didn't argue and tossed the towels onto the floor while Claire fetched every spare blanket, which they then wrapped around Alyx. "How fast will it work?" he asked as he returned to his position near her side, holding one hand in his.
"If it works at all, we should see the results fairly quickly," Claire answered as she fetched the blood pressure cuff and stethoscope.
"What do you mean 'if it works'?" Darien almost shouted. "You said all you needed was to get into the case and you could find the matching antibodies."
"Yes, Darien, but she may be too far gone for it to help," Claire explained sadly as she moved Alyx's shirt aside and slid her hand underneath to listen to her lungs.
"Ah.... crap." Darien muttered.
Alyx overheard of all this, though to her it was as if she was slowly sinking down to the bottom of a very deep well, the water distorting the words and their meaning, causing them to impact upon her with less force than if she had been fully aware. Part of her found the words Darien had softly proclaimed to her frightening, not because she hadn't known he cared about her, but because he was right. He was right, and she was too damn afraid to admit it, even to herself.
So she did what she always did lately -- she ran away. She found herself embroiled in flashes of her past, searching for some sort of connection to herself, perhaps trying to find that one defining moment when trust was easy and natural. She passed over the past months here with the Agency -- trust had never been part of it -- to that lab she'd been at, where her teacher had abandoned her, left her to be abused by those there, to cause such harm.... That memory stopped dead, a blank wall she could not get by and, in truth, she knew she didn't want to know what lay beyond it.
Onto her children at various ages, the joy she felt at watching them grow and learn, even as she did her best to hide the truth from them -- lied to them through actions, if not words. She never understood how he could be such a good father and yet hate her so very much. He never so much as raised his voice to them. Punishments, when necessary, were appropriate and non-violent for the children. Yet he would make up reasons to leave near- bloody welts upon her back. It was amazing the damage that could be done with nothing more than straightened metal coat hanger, or with sex. What had once embodied all she had felt for him had become nothing more than another weapon in his arsenal.
She shied away; remembering those times was such a combination of pain and joy, the wounds still so very raw and near to the surface. It wasn't surprising that Claire had managed to figure it out. There were more than enough hints in the existing medical records that she, being the bright woman she was, could easily put the pieces of together and make an educated guess as to what had really been going on.
She fell further, pausing at the deaths of her parents. Her guilt was still there. She still blamed herself for their deaths and was still unable to understand why she'd not been able to prevent it. Further back, to a stray afternoon with her family, all of them alive and well. Her parents arguing over some triviality while she and her brothers tried to outdo one another on the diving board. Her older brothers, critiquing the youngest of the group. Trying to grasp onto the memory, she found it odd that she could not quite see his face. She knew it was him, could hear his voice, but for some reason could not see his face and it bothered her. The incongruity caused the happy family memory to fall apart.
She went back a couple more years, locking onto a moment that had striking similarities with her current one. She was sitting on a hospital bed, crying quietly, her back aching from the lumbar puncture they'd given her. Even then she'd bruised horribly from it, but it wasn't the pain that was causing her to cry. It was the fact that, for all the tests they'd done over the last week, nothing of use had been discovered. And still her head hurt.
Slipping into the memory, she lifted her head to see the door to her room open and the boy walk in. They'd been hanging out together while they were both stuck here. Though he was a far less willing participant in the situation, his uncle having dragged him along as punishment for some mess he'd gotten into back home.
"Hey you, what's wrong?" He looked embarrassed, since she still had tears rolling down her cheeks, but hopped up on the foot of the bed in what had become 'his' spot over the past few days. "Bad news?"
She shook her head. "No news. All these damn tests for nothing. And the one they did this morning hurt like hell." She knew her parents would take her to task for swearing, especially in front of someone younger than her, but they hadn't heard what came out of his mouth while the two of them were in here goofing around. He could swear like a sailor when he got going, and the jokes... he'd actually managed to get her to blush, some of them were so raunchy.
"Oh. Look, I know it might not mean much, but no matter how crappy me and my uncle get along, he does know what he's doing." Much to her surprise, he actually leaned forward to squeeze her hand. "Trust me -- if anyone can help you, he can."
Her heart leapt to her throat at the earnestness in his voice, at the pure faith he had in his uncle, and she found herself only able to nod.
Releasing her hand, he slipped off the bed, grabbed the box of tissues lying on a nearby table, and brought them back to her. "Here. It's hard to beat a chick at poker when she's doing the waterfall routine at you." He did that little head dip that always looked so sweet and innocent on him, considering what a hellion he was, and then met her gray-blue eyes with his brown ones.
She pulled out a tissue and managed a shaky laugh. "Poker? What, too chicken to play Truth or Dare again?"
"Nah, no fun. You always pick truth..."
"And you always pick dare," she finished. "All right, but you better not have brought that marked deck again."
The memory faded, but instead of falling further away, she began to draw closer to the surface again. Her mind ran over that day from so long ago, feeling almost deja vu over it. Like there was a connection to be made and she was unable to quite see it. She stopped again, just below the surface of the water, looking out at those waiting for her to make up her mind. To fall or to fight. The one thing she knew for sure was that the wall she had built, separating herself from the rest of the world, now had some major chinks in it, perhaps a hole or two she could look out of, providing her a view of the world that she'd not been able to see for a very long time. Lessons can be learned in the strangest of places and in the most innocent of situations, including, or maybe especially, in those simple childhood games we once played.
"And you always pick dare," Alyx mumbled aloud.
Darien turned to Claire. "What?"
Claire shook her head. "Hallucinating, I guess." She reached out to check Alyx's pulse and found it far stronger than before. Going over her in detail, Claire found her blood pressure much improved and her lungs not nearly so congested as before. "Talk to her."
"Crap, what am I supposed to say?" he muttered, more to himself than Claire. He thought for a minute. "I always pick dare, huh? How could you possibly know I usually picked that when I played as a kid? Never once chickened out, either. Even the time I was dared to break into the Mitchell's place. I got in and got out with several pieces of engraved silver to prove I'd done it." He caught the wry smile Claire had on her face even as she drew another blood sample from Alyx. "My first foray into a life of crime, I was eight or nine, I guess." He held the cotton ball in place over the newest hole in her arm when Claire was done. "Can't really remember why we started playing that game. Guess it was summer and we were bored. Kevin thought it was childish and gave up playing quickly to fiddle with his chem set some more. Trying to save the world in a day, like always. There was this one girl... she always picked truth for some reason, and always told it, too...." An odd look crossed his face.
"Darien?" Claire asked.
"Not sure, just something I half-remembered." More like it was something he couldn't believe as true, since it didn't make any sense at all.
"I'll be right back. Keep talking." Claire got to her feet and left the room with the blood sample.
Darien checked the crook of Alyx's elbow to make sure it had stopped bleeding, then tossed the cotton ball onto the nearby tray. Taking her hand, he leaned over and whispered. "You always picked truth, just to annoy me."
As if she had been waiting for those words, Alyx burst past the surface of the water and back into the air. The memories she had wandered through and the words she'd heard remained behind, leaving her with nothing but vague feelings and newfound view of those about her. Opening her eyes, she found Darien looking down at her. "Hey. Ummm, what's going on?"
Heaving a huge sigh of relief, he drew her into a gentle hug before releasing her and getting her sitting up a bit more. "Oh, nothing much." When she looked at him in complete confusion, he added. "I'll explain later, okay?"
"Sure. Why are we in the padded room's evil twin?" She was at a complete loss as to why he suddenly burst out laughing.