Part VIII
Darien rolled out of his bathroom and into the kitchen, where Alyx was preparing dinner. A bit awkwardly, he got the door to his fridge open and pulled out a bottle of beer. She'd been quiet ever since she'd woken up, and no matter what Darien had tried he'd been unable to draw her out of the mood she'd fallen into. Noticing the amount of food she was cooking, he chose to speak up.
"Aren't you eating?"
She made a face, and actually turned a shade of green similar to that of the jeans she was wearing. "Ah, no. You know my headaches make me nauseous." She took a deep breath, got herself back in control, and finished what she was doing. Then she turned to him, still looking pale, but no longer like she was going to need to make a mad dash to the bathroom.
"Right, sorry. We could have gone to your place." Darien hated this. Normally he wouldn't have forgotten something like that. Normally it would be him cooking for her, maybe some soup, while she rested and tried to ease the headache without having to resort to more painkillers. Instead, she was on her feet, waiting on him for all intents and purposes, and she shouldn't be. "Alyx...."
She shook her head. "You need to get out of that chair for a while. Your back must be getting stiff as sin."
She tried to slip past him, but he reached out and wrapped his fingers about her forearm, stopping her. "Alyx, you don't have to wait on me. I could've ordered something, or asked Bobby to help, or... or called someone else." His hold was light enough that she could have easily broken away, but much to his relief she didn't. He set the bottle down on the rolling butcher-block table and slid his hand up her arm, causing her to shiver slightly.
"I don't mind, really." A smile just barely upon her lips. "Sofa or bed?"
That threw him completely. "Huh? What?" He was sure he'd missed something along the way. There was no way she could be suggesting what he thought she was suggesting. Could she?
"Please tell me Claire talked to you about sitting in one position for too long and stretching and such?" She sounded tired and exasperated. She'd sounded like that a lot over the last few days.
"Oh. Yeah, she did." Darien let go of her arm and backed out of the kitchen with her following. "Ummm, sofa I guess. I might watch some TV or something." She'd grabbed the beer and set it on the small end table, along with the remotes for the assorted pieces of electronics. With her hands behind her back, she waited while Darien worked out how and then shifted himself from the chair to the sofa for himself. When he was reasonably comfortable, in a lazy sprawl supported by cushions, Alyx sat on the floor next to him.
"I won't be staying tonight," she said softly.
Darien's heart jumped at the words. He knew she was upset about a number of things, but he'd thought she, of everyone, would stay to help. He didn't really want to be alone, he realized. He somehow knew he was still too close to that edge and needed someone nearby, just in case. "Why?" he got out, past the tightness in his chest that threatened to cut off voice.
"Well, I would like to do some laundry. Can't wear this forever, no matter how wonderful it looks." She gestured to her current ensemble and he had to admit she was right. "And, I need to be alone for a while."
She needed to be alone? But what about him? He needed her to be here. To give him something to focus on besides his current state. To... He stopped himself. When had he gone from wanting to keep her away from him and this situation, to wanting her to fix it all? To thinking she was the only way to get through this? He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he felt light fingers brushing across his cheek, he opened them to see her kneeling beside him. It was difficult, but he said, "I understand. I.... I'll manage."
"You'll be fine, and I'm not leaving just yet. I want some company first." She leaned in and kissed him lightly, much as he had her the night before.
This time, he was the one to shiver. He pushed himself more upright as her hand settled to rest on his shoulder. She moved to perch on the edge of the sofa and allowed him to pull her closer. This time, this kiss, was filled with a desperate longing, with a need to connect with something familiar, to touch something that was unchanged. There was also the inevitable element of desire that grew over the passing minutes, until Darien forced himself to pull away, his expression a combination of need and self-loathing. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that."
She pulled away from him, laughing harshly. "You're sorry. Shit Darien, did I seem the least bit unwilling or put off? Do you really think I'm that superficial?" She got to her feet and backed away, her look gone blank.
Darien didn't know what to say, what to do to close this ever-widening gulf between them.
She held up her right hand. "You put this back on my finger. I know what it means to me, what it represents for me. You...." She paused, taking a moment to keep herself in control. "I can't be the one to hold you together. I can't fix this for you. No matter how much I may want to." She trailed off, her voice shaky as her emotional state broke through.
Darien wanted to get up and hold her, and therein lay the problem. He couldn't. He had avoided thinking, perhaps a bit selfishly, about how this might be affecting her. "Alyx, I..." He was interrupted by the kitchen timer going off. Alyx held in place for a moment as the obnoxious beeping filled the apartment, her eyes locked on his. When she broke contact and moved, he wished he could follow her, could say the one word that would hold her in place. To hell with dinner, let it burn if that's what it took -- but he found his tongue-tied, his throat tight, and his mind blank. Unable to put even two words together. Picking up the bottle of beer, he twisted off the top and hurriedly downed half of it, wanting the effects of the alcohol to dull the edges of reality and make it stop hurting.
He stared at the blank television screen, not quite willing to expend the energy needed to pick up the remote and press the button. He looked down at his wrists: one bandaged, a reminder of how low he truly could fall, and the other bearing the tattoo, a reminder of how drastically his life had changed in the last few years. For better or worse? He still wasn't sure on some days. It was half-red already, which meant that Claire had not given him the inhibitor recently; he'd have to endure the trials of weekly shots again. He debated, once again, his decision to stay with the Agency, only this time he found himself regretting his decision and a bit resentful of the reasons that had kept him here.
He lifted his head to look at Alyx, standing before him with a food-laden tray, and for the first time he felt resentment towards her for keeping him here. For making him care so damn much that he'd preferred to stay here facing danger and addiction rather than trying to make a life on his own, free from the fears and pain, safe from the terrible things he could and would do when conditions were right, and even, occasionally, when they weren't.
She set the tray down before him and stepped back, almost as if she knew what he'd been thinking. "Thanks," he mumbled, afraid to say anything more right now.
"Sure," she said quietly and then left him in peace to continue on in his downward spiral of dark thoughts, and animosity.
He ate slowly and methodically, not really tasting any of it. Some faraway part of him regretted that, knowing that it was probably another one of her culinary masterpieces, but he couldn't seem bring himself back far enough to really care. When he'd eaten all he could, he lifted the tray and attempted to set it on the floor. Suddenly, his legs flared into agony again; it had happened on and off all day, and he never knew when it would occur or how long it would last. This one was about average for pain, but he still dropped the tray the last few inches, causing the items on it to rattle and then slip off, crashing to the floor.
Darien bit his lip hard enough to draw blood, even as he forced himself to try and relax through it, as Claire had suggested. From somewhere behind him came the crash of pans falling to the floor, reminiscent of yesterday evening when Alyx apparently broke the glass. As it finally passed, he was able to sit back up and reposition himself on the sofa so that he could look over at the kitchen. "Alyx?"
"Later, please?" She suddenly reminded him of Ms. Pritchard by her tone of voice. Cold and distant. As he watched, she cleaned up whatever mess she'd made out there and then came out and cleaned up the small mess he'd made. He tried to get her attention, but she refused to meet his eyes. With a sigh, he shifted until he was on his side, with a new bottle of beer on the floor in easy reach and the remote in his hand surfing through the channels. He finally settled on some sporting event he didn't really care about, but which was not overly annoying as background noise.
When Alyx finished up, she stood near his feet, waiting until he focused on her. "Anything you need me to do before I go? Get clothes out or the like? I've put the goodies you like down in easy reach and moved some basics to where..." She trailed off as Darien just stared at her. "I wish I knew what to do for you, Darien." She shifted back and forth for a moment and then, making her decision, came to stand before him. "I know you're unhappy about the situation, but why are you mad at me?"
Darien hid his reaction to her words. Was he angry with her? Right now he didn't know the answer to that. He set down the remote and ran a hand through his hair. "I'm not. Angry with you, that is. Unhappy, well, yeah. Shouldn't I be? Being a constant target isn't the most fun thing in the world."
"True. Neither is being a lab rat, yet here you are." She raised one hand to pinch the bridge of her nose reminding Darien that she was still dealing with the leftovers of her headache. "Either you want me to be with you or you don't. I can't keep being pushed away by you, not now. We used to go through stuff like this together."
Stuff like this? When had they ever been in a situation like this before? But she did have a point; he was pushing her away, and a perverse part of him saw it as a bit of justice for all he had been through. For pushing him away for months, for running off to Arnaud -- not once, but twice -- for letting him think she was dead, for being just like every other woman in his life.
He tried to shove those thoughts, those feelings, into the furthest corner of his mind and shut them back in their dark little corner where, hopefully, they'd be forgotten and never see the light of day. She just stood there, shaking, during the few seconds all this ran through his mind. "I want you with me, Alyx, but, right now I... I guess I have trouble believing that you want to be here."
"No, you simply have trouble believing me. I just wish I knew why." She moved away. "If you have problems, both Grady and Loman are aware of the situation and can help. The numbers are by the phone. Claire said she'd check on you later."
Darien sat up in surprise. "You're leaving?"
"Yes, I have things to do and... and I need to be away from you for a while." She picked up her jacket and draped it over one arm. "I'll see you in the morning."
Once again, he found himself unable to speak, unable to utter a single phrase, unable to say even her name, and so he watched silently as she turned her back on him and walked out the door with her shoulders slumped and head bowed. The door shut with a quiet click.
"Damn," he snarled into the now-empty room. "Just like all the rest." That unplanned comment stunned him, holding him in place until the need to breathe forced him to gasp and suck in a long breath. He vaguely remembered his drunken nightmares from those first few days after Eberts had shot her and he'd thought her dead, dreams of every female of significance in his life, beginning with his mother and going from there.
They had all left him eventually, for one reason or another -- some at the hands of others, stolen away from him, some simply due to the whims of fate, life offering opportunities that necessitated leaving him behind. Some he knew he had chased away with his lies and deceptions. Casey was a prime example of that, and she hadn't been the first; he hadn't been all that surprised when she didn't stick around even after promising to help him. More recently had been Allianora, once again taken away by the hands of others. And of course there was Jessica. He'd found a friend in a young, frightened girl for a couple of days, but in the end she had to put her toy -- her invisible playmate -- away, to be forgotten as the months went by, as she grew past the need of childish friends and found new ones.
It was as inevitable as breathing that any woman he cared about would leave him. Hadn't history proven that time and time again?
Alyx would leave him as well. That was his fear -- that he would have stayed for nothing, that in the coming weeks or months she would become more and more distant, or perhaps be stolen away for real this time and not just to protect herself and others. At the cabin, when his stunned mind had barely absorbed that fact she was really alive, Alyx had said she'd never let that happen. She had even gone so far as to promise, just a few days later, that she was his for as long as he wanted her. But even then, some small part of him hadn't believed her, had taken her words as an appeasement to keep him happy for the time being, as a way to get him past the hurt he was still feeling at having to suffer through her death.
Darien suddenly realized she was right. He had been closing himself off from her, to protect himself from what he saw as inevitable, from the hurt he was convinced would happen, the pain of losing yet another person he cared about. She'd taught him more than enough about his mind and her abilities to block her, even if he didn't fully understand how he was doing it. It had begun up in Cold Springs, and though he had denied it, even to himself, it had gotten worse since he decided to stay. He hadn't told her why he decided to stay, never would, and she hadn't asked. That bothered him for some reason. Wasn't she curious at all? Did she really care, or had he become a convenience for her? Like Claire had once accused him of using Alyx as.
Shifting, he picked up the beer and took a long, slow swallow. If that were true, then everything he'd ever felt from her would have to be a lie, would have to have been manufactured emotions, would have to been a better con than even he could imagine. For her to fake all of that for all those months -- helping to create the inhibitor, driving forward the research to discover how to remove the gland. Doing what she thought was best to help him even as her own mind fell apart, backing him in his search for Rachel and Jason -- would be a plan even the 'Fish couldn't come up with.
Which meant that it was all real. That she had no intention of walking out on him, even if separated for months due to work. Even when he sank into one of his moods and wanted no part of humanity or the rest of the world. Even when he was being a complete jerk and manufacturing fears because he was convinced that, in the end, she would be like all the others and leave him.
"Ah, hell," he muttered into the swiftly darkening room. Sitting up, he levered himself back into the wheelchair and rolled over to the lamp on the nightstand beside his bed. He turned it on, adding a golden glow to the room and somewhat chasing away the darkness that still lay heavy in his heart and mind. Picking up the phone, he dialed her number, wanting to apologize. After several rings, though, he only got her voice as her answering machine kicked in. He hung up without leaving a message and dialed her cell phone, only to be dumped to her voice mail. Once again he left no message and hung up the phone with a sigh.
Tomorrow would be soon enough, he decided. Tonight he still had things to do, or Claire would be on his ass, and right now he really didn't need Claire any angrier with him that she already was.
* * *
When Bobby answered his door just after ten PM, he wasn't the least bit surprised at who stood on the far side. He'd been expecting her for over an hour now, and was actually beginning to wonder what was keeping her. She stood there dressed in black, her hair pulled back into a loose ponytail. Pain was evident in her eyes and face, but he knew none of that would stop her.
"Are we really going to back off?" she asked in a soft voice.
He waved for her to enter his apartment. She'd only been inside maybe twice before, but now, as then, she didn't take the time to admire the place and got straight to business. She set her laptop on his table and opened it up. She crossed her arms over her chest and looked back at him. "Kid, this isn't a good idea."
"I think this might change your mind." She nodded towards her laptop and he moved over to read what was on the screen.
It took him only a few seconds to realize what this meant. It was no wonder they wanted the kid, and it was also obvious why those upstairs wanted her nowhere near these guys. If they knew what she could really do, they wouldn't let her go. They either valued what they did know about her enough to try this scheme, or they already suspected she was capable of far more than they had confirmed. It was a good thing she, unlike Fawkes, tended to use her flashier abilities only when absolutely necessary. It was looking like they'd been following her movements for months now, especially when she was out of town on a job and out of the umbrella of protection of the Agency.
"Where did you get this, kid?" He could feel the hairs on the back of his neck trying to stand up, but he trusted the kid to have checked for any surprises of the electronic kind as soon as she had walked in the door.
"This is some of what I pulled up earlier. I also got some of what they've been doing with the Dubrimium. They may have screwed up with Darien, but not with other things. They've been using the unique effects it creates to come up with some truly scary stuff." She leaned against the table and stared off into the distance. "They aren't going to stop Bobby, unless we do something. They may leave Darien alone, but they'll keep applying pressure until the Official is forced to 'loan' me to them."
"What do you have in mind?" He continued to scroll through the sometimes-fragmentary information covering a score of topics. A parts list for some unknown weapon, a formula for something that involved the Dubrimium -- the kid was right, it was a stupid name -- a partial dossier on Fawkes, as well as a more complete one on Alyx, though most of that information was sheer speculation. It looked like they'd been monitoring her since that girls' school job several months ago. He wondered what it was she'd done to draw their attention. Fawkes was an obvious target, since he was the recipient of his brother's quicksilver research, of which they had been the previous sponsors. Too bad the kid hadn't grabbed the info on that; it might prove important, or at least interesting.
"I know where one of their local offices is; I was thinking on paying them a visit." Her voice was so bland, Bobby was certain he'd misheard her.
"Kid, you can't be serious." He stood up and looked her in the eye -- yes, she was serious.
"'The art of war is simple enough. Find out where your enemy is. Get at him as soon as you can. Strike him as hard as you can, and keep moving on.' Ulysses S. Grant," Alyx said to him with a grim smile.
"You been hanging around Fawkes too much." When she just shrugged at him, he knew things had gone poorly earlier, but chose to say nothing at the moment. "You're right, though, I don't want to back off." He looked at the information again. "But it's too risky for you. You'd be walking right into the wolves' den, and you are the red riding hood they're after."
"Who else, Bobby? Tell me that. 'Sides, I'll have you watching my back, with a little help." She pressed a few keys and the SWRB files vanished, to be replaced by a program he recognized.
"Your Destiny program? How will that help? These guys will have security like you wouldn't believe; even if we get in, it'll be spotted in a heartbeat." Bobby realized she didn't look the least bit worried, and in fact was smiling slightly.
"That's what I'm hoping."
Bobby wagged a finger at her when he caught on. "Kid... I trained you well." He thought about it for several minutes without Alyx saying anything. She knew he wouldn't be persuaded with slick words or pleas; after long exposure to Fawkes, he was pretty much immune to both of those tactics. He was pretty sure that, even if they got caught, the SWRB wouldn't do anything to them, though the Official might take a large portion out of their hides. He could live with that if it got them something to use against these guys. Besides, he was damn sure the kid would try this on her own if he said 'no'. Better to watch her back. "All right, kid. We'll do this. Give me twenty minutes."
"Thanks, Bobby."
"No need kid. I know you'd do the same for me." And he did. It may have taken time, but he did trust her now, in much the same way he trusted Fawkes. She'd do just about anything for any or all of them. Maybe even absolutely anything. It was just who she was.
* * *
SWRB Research Laboratory III, Mission Valley
He ran the diagnostic a third time, and it finally found the reason the Lab's security had been misbehaving. Picking up the phone, he pressed a single button that would connect him to the Director, wherever he might be. He continued to track the invading control program, as well as the specific security it was altering, to try and figure out where the intruder was going.
When the voice on the other end acknowledged, he spoke calmly. "Sir, we have a security breach. In facility three." He paused, listening. "No sir, not that we've picked up, anyway. Yes, sir." Hanging up the phone, he ignored the worm program and its effects and began searching the various monitors for the person they had to be hiding. Five minutes later, with no success to report other than his conclusion that they were heading for the main computer in sub-basement two, the Director walked in and sat beside him. He felt a flash of unease; the Director was not very forgiving of failure. "The target appears to be the main computer. I've been unable to locate the person or persons."
The older, blonde-haired man looked over the various screens and data. "That's because they aren't going to the computer. The worm program, though quite good, is a distraction and nothing more." Turning to the video monitors, he frowned. "Switch to enhanced thermal imaging."
The security agent tapped a few keys. The images on the screen changed, but revealed nothing new.
"I'm impressed," the Director muttered to himself. "Search for their radio frequency."
More keys were tapped. "None, sir. No outside communications or unauthorized frequencies in the area."
The Director nodded, as if pleased with the answer. "Where's the vehicle?"
Several exterior camera shots were scrolled through. "Here, sir." The image showed a black van, screened by several trees and sitting in a pool of darkness, the streetlight nearby no longer working. They had found it because of the heat signature of its engine showing on one of thermal cameras. "Shall I have them brought in?"
The Director thought for a moment. "No. Unless they disrupt anything in the building, leave them be. I'll deal with them." He got to his feet and left the room, heading back to his office. He had hoped she wouldn't back down, would try something like this. It was another opportunity to find out exactly what she was capable of. He might want her for only one of her talents, but once she was in his possession he was sure to find other uses for her, even if it was only to study. They had been warned, and even the protection of the Official and those backing him only went so far.
Opening the door to his office, he paused, suddenly feeling like he wasn't alone. He looked about with suspicion. Nothing appeared to be out of place. His computer was still off, like he'd left it, and there was no place to hide. The child was a telepath, not invisible like her sometime-partner. Perhaps she could fool the various security measures, but she could still be seen. Moving to his desk, he picked up the phone; it was time to apply some more pressure and to finish setting up the trail to the shooter. He hated to admit to a mistake, but one had been made. He'd had no way of knowing the quicksilver would affect the Dubrimium-laced bullets. The fact that they'd been forced to the secondary plan at all still irked him; capturing Fawkes had turned out to be far more difficult than they had foreseen. He'd actually managed to learn a thing or two while working for the Official. Of course, his Agency counterpart had not been very happy to learn of his attempt -- justifiably -- but it would have been an effective step in his efforts to wrest control of the girl for himself.
Pressing a few keys, he called up what little information he had on her. Her file was still there, with reports from various missions she'd been watched on as they tried to confirm what they suspected about her. They had confirmed that she was a telepath, a fairly strong one at that, and that was the talent he needed right now.
When he got to the final page, he hung up the phone before the connection was completed. There was a new page added to her file, with a note for him. 'Your turn to be watched.'
For an instant, anger burned in him, but it cooled quickly, to be replaced with a smile. She was damn good. Better than he had hoped. Maybe, just maybe, he would still be able to pull this off and end up with the prize. Picking the phone back up, he made a call, different from the one he had originally intended to make. It was time for a slight change in tactics.
* * *
Bobby backed his way out of the building on the security system, hopefully making it look like they had achieved their goal and were leaving. He was just completing the task when the rear door, which was intentionally out of sight of the many cameras, opened and closed. She shed the quicksilver and moved over to him.
"How'd it go, kid?" He exited the program and shut down the computer before turning to her.
"Cake and pie," she said as she picked up the laptop and slipped it back into her bag.
It took him a second, but he caught on. "Piece of cake." He moved to the driver's seat and started the engine.
"Easy as pie," she added as she leaned over his shoulder. "We're not buying it, are we?"
"Not for an instant." He turned the van about and drove away from the innocent-looking building, which sat in the midst of a small industrial park and next to an upper-middle-class neighborhood. "Your tax dollars at work," he muttered to himself as he looked over the homes. All these people who had no idea what really went on, even though it was practically in their back yards.
"That's what we're for, to protect them from things like this, right?" Alyx had slid into the passenger seat and was looking through the glove box for something. "Sorry, it was kinda obvious what you were thinking."
"No problem, kid. You're right, that's what we do, keep the world safe for Joe Blow and his two point five kids, even if it means protecting them from those who are supposed to be the good guys." His hands tightened on the wheel, the knuckles turning white. He'd made a few calls while waiting for the kid to show at his place, and the answers he'd received, along with what he already knew from both fact and rumor, scared him. These were not nice people, in any way, and they wanted his partners. It made him want to scream in frustration. These people had already proven what lengths they'd go to get what they wanted, as well as proving to Bobby that he couldn't protect them. If the SWRB really came after his friends, no one could stop them. They had no one to answer to, no oversight. Only the combined backing of multiple agencies had kept Alyx out of their hands up to this point. Eventually they would win, unless he found something to use against them, some way to create a stalemate.
"Bobby, we'll get through this. Stop worrying so much." Alyx's voice was soft and filled with concern for him. "Not to nag, or sound like Fawkes, but take your pills, Bobby. Please."
Bobby chuckled and relaxed slightly. They took care of each other. He changed the topic, bringing up something that was probably none of his business. "I saw the ring. Things okay?"
Alyx sighed audibly. "Not really, but I can't do anything about it right now. I want him safe first."
"Kid..." Bobby wasn't sure what to say. He was pretty sure she wouldn't abandon Fawkes just because he was hurt, but it was hard to watch. They were both his friends and he had eventually accepted their relationship as inevitable. Rules or no rules. Somehow, they made it work. But it was hard to support both of them when it looked like they were falling apart.
"Bobby... Don't feel guilty, or that you have to choose sides. I'm not about to abandon him. I'll help all I can, but he has to do most of this himself and you know it." Alyx leaned back into the seat, the fingers of one hand gently rubbing her forehead. "I can't convince him of that, it seems."
"He'll make it, kid. He's tougher than he realizes." Bobby had suspected what had happened yesterday when he saw the bandage on Fawkes' wrist, but he knew better than to make any comment to either Fawkes or Alyx. He somehow knew Alyx hadn't stopped him, that Fawkes had stopped himself even as he made the attempt. He'd been there himself once, with the will, but not the opportunity. Hell, he'd come damn close to that long fall again when he'd thought he'd shot Fawkes, and only the need to save him, to keep his partner alive, had kept him from making a fatal and final mistake.
"I know he is," Alyx said with a quiet, solid conviction. "But even he has his Achilles heel."
"We all do, kid. We just have to make sure not to let the enemy exploit it." They were nearing his apartment building and he pulled next to her car. "We'll trace that plate tomorrow and track down the shooter. For all the good it'll do us."
"Bobby, we take the bone they throw us. And then we throw it back in their faces." Her voice was a soft growl by the end.
"That may not be possible." Bobby had to try and make her aware of the real situation. "This is not our usual enemy. It's not someone we can just arrest and move on."
"There's always a way, Bobby. We just may not like it." She picked up her bag and opened the door. "You'll pick up Darien in the morning?" She slipped out, but held the door open waiting for his answer.
"Yeah, kid. I'll deliver him to the Keep on time. Go home and sleep. I have the feeling we're all going to need it." She shook her head and then shut the door. He waited in place until she had driven away, headed for home. Pulling forward, he drove around the building into the small parking lot, pleased that his space hadn't been swiped for a change. Now he just needed to convince himself to sleep.