Title: Forgive and Forget
Author: Marcela86
Rating: PG-13 to be safe
Feedback: YES!!! I love reviews!
Disclaimer: The Invisible Man doesn't belong to me(I wish!). No copyright infringement is intended. The beginning part (up to the first stars) is the script from 'Germ Theory' transcribed by StarvedChocobo. (http://www.geocities.com/imaniac30/)
Summary: Alternate plot take-off from Germ Theory
Spoilers: Big ones for Germ Theory, and Brother's Keeper(eventually)
Author notes: This is a work in progress, and I'm sorry to say that I have a good relationship with my friend, Mr. Procrastination. By the way, does anyone know how to get the italics to show up in fanfiction.net from Microsoft Word?
The scene opens in the Keep, on a tray of vials filled with a green liquid.)
DARIEN: (voice-over) Composers of traditional Japanese music believe that true expression is found not only in the notes, but in the silences between them.
(The camera pans to the entrance to the Keep, where Hobbes, carrying a giant load of paperwork, staggers in.)
HOBBES: Hey Keep.
(Claire, who is working nearby, looks up.)
CLAIRE: Hello.
HOBBES: How you doing? Any idea where my see-through partner is, huh? I'm being buried alive in paperwork here, I could use a hand.
DARIEN: (voice-over) In other words, know when to shut up.
CLAIRE: Since when are you on filing duty?
HOBBES: Ever since I made an innocent comment to the fat man that my cases have been a bit of a bore lately.
(Eberts comes up behind Hobbes as he is talking, and places another set of files on top of the stack Hobbes is already carrying.)
EBERTS: Great news, Robert. I was able to pull a few strings, and managed to get you your own staple remover.
(Eberts pulls out the staple remover.)
HOBBES: That's great. You know, I'm a highly trained, decorated field agent, Eberts. I can kill a man thirty ways right now with my bare hands.
EBERTS: But can you collate?
(Eberts clicks the staple remover and starts to walk off.)
EBERTS: Come, Robert.
(Hobbes stands still for a moment, upset, then follows Eberts. Claire tries hard to repress a smile as Hobbes walks out, stumbling slightly as he leaves. Darien suddenly appears in front of Claire, shedding quicksilver and reading a file. Claire turns back to her work and sees Darien.)
CLAIRE: Ohh!
(Claire puts a hand to her head, then recovers and snatches the file from Darien. Darien merely stares at Claire, chewing gum.)
CLAIRE: Avoiding paperwork is not a good reason for quicksilvering.
DARIEN: Avoiding? Moi? No.
(Darien stands up and backs towards the chair.)
DARIEN: I was… I was merely waiting, quietly, for my shot.
(Claire sighs, and walks over to Darien as he sits down in the chair. Darien grins at Claire as she sits down, then looks off to the side, at the tray of vials with green liquid in them. He picks one vial up and inspects it.)
DARIEN: Hey, can I have the last of the Kool-Aid here?
CLAIRE: That is an experimental reagent which may work as a time-release form of counteragent, which may act as a safety buffer for times when you can't get one of these injections and which, though it won't free you from your counteragent dependency, could save your life one of these days, so in other words, please stop playing with my lab equipment.
(Claire ties Darien's arm and readies a needle as she talks.)
DARIEN: Whoa, that was a really long run-on sentence, but okay, if you say so.
(Darien attempts to set the vial back, but sets it down too hard and breaks it.)
CLAIRE: Ohh, Darien! It's two weeks of work!
(Darien tries to pick up a shard of glass, but cuts himself instead.)
DARIEN: Aah!
(Claire grabs Darien's arm and sticks him with the needle, angrily.)
DARIEN: Aaah!
(Claire smiles unapologetically at him. Claire wipes off the injection spot as Darien looks at his finger, which is covered in blood.)
DARIEN: Ah, crap. Hey, I, I got kind of a nasty cut here. Could you…
(Darien motions towards his finger. Claire simply looks at the finger, then at Darien, then gets up and walks off.)
DARIEN: Or I'll get my own band-aid.
(Claire walks over to the tray, and crunches on the glass. She glares at Darien. Darien looks over at Claire.)
*************************
"-And a broom" Darien added, seeing the look of animosity on his keeper's face. This little accident of his had obviously been a great loss to Claire. He started to apologize, "Look, Claire, I'm so sorry about your experiment." He thought he'd try a joke. "Guess I don't know my own strength, huh."
Claire growled "Darien! This is not a laughing matter! You shouldn't have touched that. It's two week of work down the drain!" She sighed and closed her eyes to stop her temper. "Just clean that mess up and get out of here, I can't deal with you right now. I've got to redo the entire experiment."
Darien inhaled deeply. He went to get some cleaning supplies before he dug himself even deeper. His mind on how to make it up to Claire, Darien didn't pay full attention to the glass and got several more nasty cuts on his hands. Soon, the crimson of his blood was swirling with the green re-agent on the floor, making it very Christmas-y. He finished cleaning up the mess, including his blood, and tossed the paper towel into the trashcan. Wincing at the cuts on his hands, he walked up to Claire, who was sitting at her computer.
"Hey, um… Claire?" Darien asked hesitantly. She gave him the slightest sign to continue, eyes still on her work.
"Do you have any bandages or something like that? I kinda got a few more cuts from the glass." Darien asked.
She nodded, and pointed out some cabinets, "Top third to the left." She continued her work, her mouth a tight line.
After grabbing the bandages from their cabinet, Darien ran his multiple cuts under cool, running water via the sink in the keep, and wrapped his hands. He was about to leave the Keep, when he thought he'd try to apologize once more. This only further aggravated Claire, "Just-just get out of here before you screw anything else up!" Darien merely nodded hesitantly and walked through the keep door. As a parting remark, he said, "I'll see you tomorrow morning, Keepie." She kept at her work, a small frown on her face, not acknowledging his departure.
*************************
Later on, that evening, the Keeper was re-working the experiment that Darien had wrecked. She had an eyedropper positioned precariously over a beaker of liquid and was silently counting the number of drops she was adding. This part of the experiment was very precise, so she had to take extra care to painstakingly count out all 125 drops of the substance. Suddenly, a loud trill assaulted her senses. She started at the noise, squeezing the bulb of the eyedropper. The liquid quickly spurted out in a spray of droplets that landed in the beaker and on the table, making a mess of her research papers. Groaning in aggravation, she rolled her chair over to the phone.
"Hello?" She said irately. "Whoever this is, it had better be good!"
"Oh, um, hey Keep," Claire could practically hear him wincing at the other end. "I- um, I just wanted to call in to apologize again for that accident in the lab today. If there's anything I could do—" Claire cut him off.
"Just leave me alone! Do you have any idea what I was doing when you called?" she sighed, frustrated, and kept talking, not waiting for an answer. "It's very important and precise work, and now I have to start all over again! Just stay away from me and stop being a pain in the neck!"
"Oh, gee, sorry again, Keep. I didn't mean—" the Keeper cut him off by hanging up the phone.
************Next Morning************
Claire was busily working on her computer, her fingers flying quickly across the keyboard. She needed to get all this information entered into the computer before she could go on to the next stage of the experiment. Suddenly, the phone rang again. Her brow wrinkled in confusion.
Who would be calling her at this time? Surely Darien wouldn't dare try to call after last night's incident.
"Hello?" she asked, forcing herself into something that would pass as a cheery manner of voice.
"Hey, Claire?" Darien started. "I've kinda got a little problem here. I could really use your help."
Claire laughed at this. "You have got to be kidding me. After that little chain of events yesterday?"
Darien cut her off, his tone of voice hurt, "Yeah, I know, and I'm still very sorry, but I really, really need your help."
"Right," Claire said, unbelieving. She hung up the phone. After a couple of seconds, the phone was ringing again. Groaning in annoyance, she used her foot to yank the phone cord out of the wall.
There, she thought, that's the end of that.
About an hour later, Hobbes entered the keep.
"Hey, Keepie! You seen Fawkes around here? Fat man wants us all in his office to go over the next case."
She felt a touch of anger at the memory of yesterday's events, but pushed it aside. "No, I haven't seen him. We should just go to the Official's office and wait for him there."
Hobbes nodded and waited by the door, letting Claire go through first. Once in the Official's office, Darien's absence began to make itself known.
"And where, pray tell, is Mr. Fawkes?" The Official asked, keeping his temper in check.
"Um, sir? I would be happy to go to his house, check to see if he might have slept in again." Hobbes offered.
Claire dismissed the idea with a wave of her hand, "No, no, he's up. He called me this morning."
"Well? Did he say anything? Tell you he was going to be late?" Hobbes asked, starting to get worried about his partner.
"No, he was just trying to apologize again for pestering me and ruining my experiments on several occasions," Claire answered Hobbes, the annoyance towards Darien showing in her voice.
The Official sighed in annoyance. "We need to find him, so that we can get on with the briefing. Eberts?"
"Yes, sir. I'll call his house right now." Eberts replied. After letting the phone ring for a while, he deduced that Darien wasn't currently at his house, or chose not to answer the phone. He relayed this information to the others.
The Keeper groaned in disapproval. "This is so like him. He's starting to become very irresponsible."
Hobbes came to Darien's defense, "Come on, Keep. He's not that bad. He's probably just got a lot on his mind right now."
"That's no excuse. He should be here, on time!" Claire was starting to get even more irritated with Darien, and she was about to take it out on Hobbes.
"Hobbes?" The official asked, breaking up the imminent fight.
"Yes, sir?" Hobbes was ready to go out and find Darien, so he could get on with work.
"Go check his apartment, and then anywhere else you think he—"
A knock at the door caught everyone's attention. It was erratic and loud. The Official told Eberts to get the door, and then decided to just wait. Claire and Hobbes were fixated on the door, waiting for it to be opened. The search for Fawkes would have to wait until they found out who was behind the door.
Eberts grabbed the doorknob and opened the door…revealing Darien.
Claire didn't waste any time reprimanding him for his lateness, "Darien, this is very inconsiderate of you. You have responsibilities, and-and a job that you need to be on time for. If the rest of us can make it here, so can you. There's no excuse."
Darien just stood there, leaning on the doorframe. He listened as Claire chewed him out for his recklessness, staying silent until she was finished. Noticing that she was done, and waiting for a response, Darien started, weakly, "Well, yeah. All good points, but…" He trailed off, out of breath.
Hobbes noticed an odd tone in his partner's voice. He looked closer and saw sweat trailing down his face, his body shaking slightly. "Hey, Fawkes? You feeling ok? You don't look so good."
Darien coughed harshly. "That's probably because… because I don't feel so good." He punctuated the statement by collapsing, unconscious.