(Note... for the newbies to the fandom...I posted this series before, but since this was my first fanfic for the genre, I'm re‑writing the series. Enjoy!!! ‑‑‑‑From Neko, one of the queens of angst))
Nothing is What it Seems
Fanfic by: NekoSama (aka Chris) and Doretta (aka Desiree)
Email: nekosama@ix.netcom.com and dstreeter78@yahoo.com
Status:Part 1
Catagory:Angst
Season: after Beholder
Rating:PG for Violence
Summary:A bad day turns worse.
Standard disclaimer: The Invisible Man and all the characters are not ours and are used without permission. We are not getting paid for this.
Darien woke with a start. He was still having nightmares about killing people, and this one had been about Claire. He had to find a way to stop these nightmares. And he hoped that wouldn't require a bullet in his head. He went to pick up the phone when his head started to pound. 'Not again,' he thought.
He looked at the tattoo on his wrist and it was almost full. 'How can this be? Could I have gone invisible while I was asleep?' he pondered.
He jumped from the bed, staring at his wrist as he ran for the phone. Dialing frantically, he began rummaging through his kitchen drawers looking for aspirin to subdue the pounding in his head.
"This is the keeper..." her machine began.
"Ah Crap," Darien silently cursed as he slammed the phone down. "Where the hell is she?"
He grabbed the back of his head as the pain increased. He picked the phone back up and dialed Hobbes' number. He knew he would not be able to drive in this state of mind.
Hobbes answered his phone on the second ring. He was usually not far from his phone.
"Hobbes...you gotta swing by my place...fast," Darien pleaded into the phone trying to keep his cool.
"You got it partner," Hobbes answered without hesitation.
Darien wondered if the pain was so obvious in his voice. He tried to calm his mind as he waited for Hobbes to arrive. He pushed the violent thoughts back as far as they could go.
He didn't want to risk hurting his partner, who was also his best friend, even though he would never admit it. In the short time they had worked together, Hobbes had proven himself in many ways, a million times over. And Darien was learning to accept his help, to put his trust in him, and to let the man do his job.
The knocking at his door made Darien's eyes shoot open. The light from the lamp next to the couch blinded him as he slowly rose from the couch and stumbled to answer the door.
"Fawkes, are you all right?" Hobbes asked, concern ringing in his voice. He could tell Darien must be hurting when he heard him on the phone. "Come on, buddy. Answer me!"
The door swung open feebly, Darien barely keeping his balance as Hobbes stepped in through the frame.
"I couldn't get hold of the keeper.." he barely got out as he crumpled over.
"We gotta get the doc a beeper or somethin'" Hobbes smirked as he threw Darien's arm over his shoulder and helped him limp down the hallway. For a man Hobbes' size...he sure could hold his own.
Darien slumped into the passenger's seat of the van.
Hobbes pushed the van into overdrive making it to the lab in record time.
Darien's eyes were starting to turn red as Hobbes helped him out of the van.
"Keep!" he yelled down the hallway as his partner cringed at the sound and grasped his head. "Keep!" There was no sound coming from the lab as they neared the door.
Hobbes slid Darien's key into the lock and the door whooshed open. All the lights were out, leaving the lab in an eerie silence.
Hobbes helped Darien into the chair and flicked on the lights.
"Where the hell is she?" Hobbes shouted. Darien curled into a ball and started to shake. "Hang on pal, I'm going to find out what's going on!" and Hobbes went down the hall in search of someone who knew the Keeper's whereabouts.
He barged into the Official's office, a smart ass remark on his tongue, but was greeted by the same deserted silence that hung in the lab.
"Where the...?" he started as he spun back toward the door and ran back down the hall.
Darien lay unconscious in the chair, shivering from the ache that flooded him. "Alright, buddy," Hobbes whispered as he gripped Darien's arm and sat him up straight. "Let's see what I can do." Hobbes made his way to the refrigerator, creaking open the door and rummaged through the contents.
The Keeper had a shot all ready to give to Darien, since has was close to his six days. Hobbes grabbed the needle and rushed back over to Darien. He took an alcohol wipe and swabbed Darien's arm before inserting the needle. He waited for Darien to wake up, still wondering where the hell everyone else was.
"This might hurt a bit," Hobbes said as he shook Darien's shoulders. "Wake up, pal. Come on..I'm not real sure how to do this."
Darien's eyes flickered open and his reddened gaze locked on his partner's eyes.
"Ahh Christ.." Hobbes started as Darien jumped from the chair, lunging at his friend who struggled to stay on his feet.
Darien knocked Hobbes to the floor and started choking him.
'I don't want to hurt him, but I don't want him to kill me either,' Hobbes thought as he smacked his hands on Darien's ears.
Darien howled in pain from the earclap which gave Hobbes the opportunity he need to subdue Darien.
Lunging for the dropped counter agent, Hobbes eyed Darien as he lay rolling in pain. He grabbed cold metal of the syringe while rising to his feet. After surveying the vial for any damage, he turned to check on his partner...but the room was once again empty. The lights flicked off before Hobbes could call out his first "Darien" and the door slid open.
"Dammit!" he cursed himself as he covered the needle and slid it into his coat pocket, reaching for his gun.
Darien ran down the hallway and into the Official's office. He frowned when he realized no one was there. He wanted to get that fat bastard. Well he'd have to settle for killing his partner first and then track down the Official and the Keeper later.
His plans...oh yes they were sublime. His boss begging for mercy before he died. And his lovely Keeper... her blond hair plastered flat on the floor while he played with her.
"Darien..." he heard a voice coming at him from down the hallway. "Come out for me will ya? I'm kinda sick 'a this game..."
Hobbes walked the corridor from the lab to the official's office, gun drawn, halting at every creek and settle of the floor. He DID hate this game. It scared the hell out of him.
"Come on, Darien," he continued. "I ain't got the tranq gun here, big guy. It's the real deal. Don't make me use it...cause with you see‑through I can't promise a good shot."
"Then let's play a new game. Can you kill me before I kill you?" Darien laughed, all of the sanity gone from his voice.
Hobbes stood breathlessly still, cocking his weapon and aiming it toward the area of open space where Darien's voice had echoed from.
"Come on, buddy...don't do this.."
"Don't do THIS?"
Hobbes attempted to lunge to the floor and out of the way as Darien's insane whisper filled his ear and his breath snaked down his neck.
Darien's hand was around his friend's throat before Hobbes hit the ground.
Hobbes' hand fumbled into his pocket grabbing the vial of counteragent. He stabbed the needle into the space where Darien's arm was choking him and pressed the plunger.
"AAAHHH!" Hobbes screamed as the needle slid past it's mark and punctured his own neck, because Darien twisted slightly. "Dammit!" The hall blurred around him as Darien's hold loosened around his neck.
"Enjoy it, buddy," Darien said maliciously as he shoved his partner to the floor, stood, and surveyed his options. "I've had to endure that crap for months."
"Darien..." Hobbes said feebly, stretching his arm up to the figure hovering above him. "Get the Keeper..."
"Sorry, pal. I gotta run." With that, Darien took off sprinting down the hallway, shedding the quicksilver from his form as he plunged through the glass doors of the agency, just for the hell of it.
Hobbes lay motionless on the concrete walk watching the lights flicker above him.
***
"Wake up Robert!" Eberts shouted as he shook Hobbes' limp form.
He did not stir.
Eberts went in search of someone who could help him move Hobbes to the lab.
"Bobby?" He flicked his eyes open immediately going to his side for his gun. "No, Bobby...it's alright," Claire told him quietly as she held his arms down. "You're in the lab. You're fine. Relax."
He quickly surveyed the room looking for signs of something he couldn't quite remember.
"Where's Darien?" came a peeved voice from a dark corner of the room.
"Hell if I'd tell you if I knew," he shot toward the figure as he emerged from the dark.
"We need to know, Robert." Eberts walked to the side of the chair and peered down on the agent as he lay there still too weak to move.
"I don't remember..." Hobbes said shakily.
"Would it have something to do with this?" Claire asked as she held up the empty vial of counteragent.
Hobbes looked blankly at the vial. "Maybe... my head really hurts."
"I always wondered what would happen if someone else was injected with the counteragent," Claire mused as she set the vial down.
"Yeah, well I'm glad I could be of service," he remarked as he tried to sit up.
"Sit down, Robert," Eberts directed as the lackey held him down. "We want information."
"I'll give you some information, pal," Hobbes started up, "if you don't get your sorry, pathetic hand off me..."
"Enough!" Claire interrupted. "Stop it, both of you. This is going to get us nowhere. Besides, Eberts, I want him up and walking."
"Fine," Eberts conceded stepping back but never taking his eyes off Bobby.
Hobbes righted himself as he glared at the man who's life he was now determined to make hell.
"Agent Fawkes has apparently gone in insane and we need to find him," Eberts replied coldly straightening his tie.
"And why do you think I know where he went?" Hobbes commented glaring at Eberts. Something wasn't right about Eberts, and it was setting all of his senses crazy. He KNEW if he said something, though, Claire would just dismiss him, again.
Leaving his question hanging, Eberts just stared.
"Get up, Bobby...if you can," Claire said gingerly.
He placed his feet under him and received a jolt of pain causing him to grasp the edge of the chair with his hands.
"I'm fine," Hobbes quipped as he jumped down. His butt hit the floor a split second after his feet did.
"Sure you're fine," Claire shook her head and helped Hobbes back to his feet. "You need to take it slowly. I'm not exactly sure what the counteragent does to someone else's bloodstream. It may not react well with the medication you're already taking."
"That's a comforting thought. Thanks, Keep," and he walked around slowly trying to regain his balance.
"If we could get to the problem at hand..." Eberts started.
Hobbes turned to face Eberts who stood his ground trying with everything he had to be official.
"Listen, Eeeberts," he started, "I don't know where he went. He was having issues, I was tryin' to give him a shot, he turned on me...." he trailed off trying to regain composure. Getting worked up was something he was very good at. "Look...I got the shot....he disappeared, literally!"
Eberts stood glaring for another second before walking quickly from the room.
"Come on, Keep," Hobbes sighed thinking of Darien. "Let's go get him."
"Right," she replied grabbing her coat and following Hobbes out the door.
They walked to Claire's van since Hobbes still was not very steady on his feet.
"Where do you think he went?" Claire asked putting her key in the ignition. She yelped when an unseen form pulled open her door and yanked her out of the van.
"Get out of the van, Hobbes," came Darien's voice from the empty space next to Claire.
Stepping out of the van, Hobbes could see the imprint of fingers around Claire's throat and what looked like the butt of a gun pressed against her temple.
Hobbes moved his hand to his side where he kept his gun. He had to stop Darien at all costs. He just hoped his aim was good enough not to hit the Keeper.
"Put it down, Fawkes," Hobbes commanded, aiming his weapon at just to the side of Claire.
"I don't think you're in the position to tell me to do anything," Darien answered giving Claire a shake as he pushed them a few steps closer to the armed agent.
The shot echoed down the street, vibrating off the cars, and setting off alarms. Claire hit the ground as her attacker let loose on his hold. A small puddle of blood lay spilled on the sidewalk, spilling into the gutter beneath her feet.
"Keep!" Hobbes yelled as he ran to Claire. "Keep..You alright?! JESUS EBERTS!! You hit her!"
"No, Bobby...no..." she countered as Eberts crossed the sidewalk and joined them by the van, gun still smoking in hand.
Claire pushed Hobbes away from her as she rolled to her side. She palmed her way to Darien's neck to check for a pulse. She found it, albeit weak.
Hobbes bolted from the sidewalk stepping up to the lackey. Bumping chests, he looked Eberts straight in the eye.
"You got a thing for shootin' agents, don't ya?" Hobbes said angrily, forcing Eberts to take a step back.
"Well, he was going to kill her, and it didn't look like you were going to do anything about it," Eberts countered angrily.
"Not now, Eberts!" Claire shouted. "If you want him to stay alive I need to get him to the lab NOW!"
Hobbes helped Claire lift Darien and then looked back to Eberts. "Are you gonna help or not?"
Eberts flared his nostrils, but remained silent as he helped then move Darien back into the lab.
Shedding the quicksilver on the sidewalk, Darien's visible, bruised body was lifted by the trio and hurried into the lab.
"Get me those bandages," Claire ordered pointing in the direction of the cupboards lining the wall.
Pushing Eberts out of the way, Hobbes flung open the doors and rummaged through the contents pulling out every package of gauze he could find. "Here ya go, Keep," he said as he handed them to her. He rested his hands on his head as he began pacing.
Claire bandaged up Darien and checked his pulse again. It was very weak. "He's not doing very well. We need to get him to a hospital. After I give him his shot of counteragent."
Hobbes dialed 911 as Claire prepared to administer the shot. "They're on their way," Hobbes said as he turned to Eberts. "If he dies..."
"Calm down, Bobby," Claire interrupted stepping between the two of them.
A quiet groan came out of Darien as he turned his head gingerly away from the glaring light above him. Claire was right there when he opened his eyes.
"Hold still, Darien. You need a shot." She gently grasped his arm, letting the needle slide into his vein. He didn't budge as the counteragent went to work in his system. The sirens from the ambulance wailed as they pulled up outside of the agency.
"I'll go with him," Hobbes told the group as the paramedics loaded Darien onto the stretcher.
"No, Hobbes. I'll go. I'll need to speak with the doctors," Claire told him as she walked out the door with the paramedics. "Stay here with Eberts." This she said with a glare at the man who had shot the patient.
"Great, just what I need," Hobbes grumbled mostly to himself.
Eberts was also less than happy with the situation.
"You could have killed him you know," Hobbes started.
"I did what I had to do, Robert. If he had killed the Keeper than we would not have been able to help him."
"I'd still like to see that gun taken away from you," Hobbes glared angrily across the lab.
"That grudge of yours is childish and sad, Robert. Of all people, you should know...it was an accident." Eberts turned and paced along with Hobbes.
"You did not shoot him on accident! You aimed and fired your gun at him without knowing where you were going to hit him. You could have killed the Keeper too. Did you even think about that?" Hobbes continued to rant.
"Contrary to what you think, I happen to be an excellent shot. If I wasn't I probably *WOULD* have hit her. And as for Darien, I was pretty sure I was not going to make a head shot," Eberts countered his nostrils starting to flare again.
"Were you so sure when you shot me?" Hobbes asked, a glint in his eye. The two men stared at each other across the chair bolted to the floor in the middle of the room.
"As a matter of fact," Eberts continued, "it was quite the opposite with you, Robert."
An eerie silence hung for a brief moment as the rivals pondered Ebert's last thought. It proved to be the quiet before the storm.
"You bastard!" Hobbes snarled.
"No, my parents were married," Eberts said in a cold tone.
Hobbes smirked at Eberts' last comment. "I don't have time for you right now." and started for the door.
"Where are you going?" Eberts asked stepping in front of him.
"Where do you think? Now get outta my way." and Hobbed pushed past Eberts shoving him unto the floor as the door closed behind him.
The hospital was only a fifteen minute drive from the agency. Hobbes barged into the ER doors and stormed down the hallway looking for the keeper. He found her speaking with a doctor outside the ICU.
"Keep," he started, pulling her away rudely from her conversation. "How is he?"
"Bobby...we don't know yet...it's too soon. Give me a minute."
"Where is he?"
"Bobby..."
"Where is he??" he demanded loudly.
"The doctors took him into surgery. The bullet did some damage to his spleen and liver. That's all I know right now. Now, please just sit down in the waiting room. I'll be out shortly," Claire turned back to the doctor she was talking to.
Hobbes walked back into the waiting room and got a cup of coffee out of the machine. He slumped down into one of the chairs, the events of the day weighing heavily one him. He could just strangle Eberts for shooting Darien. He looked up as Claire sat down next to him.
"He's going to be fine, Bobby," she said soothingly as she placed her hand on his knee. He continued to stare at the white tiled floor. "Look...Bobby," she began, "Darien is a strong man. He's going to pull through."
"Yeah, I know," he said. "It ain't that. It's Eberts, you know? He just doesn't get it."
"Well, you were prepared to shoot Darien too," Claire reminded him.
"I know, but..." Hobbes started, loosing his train of thought. "It's just...I've been there. If you can't trust the people you work with, what's the point?"
"Darien trusts you with his life, Bobby. Don't doubt that for a minute."
"I don't, Keep. But that took a while. That didn't just happen overnight. And here he was just getting to buy into Ebert's innocent act and he goes and gets shot!"
"I'm sure Eberts will explain..." Claire started but was immediately cut off by an exploding Hobbes.
"Just like he explained to me?! He shot me square in the chest my first day working with him! And all he had to say was 'Sorry...bad aim.' I'm gonna kill that son of a..."
"Doctor, Agent Hobbes?" came the voice of Darien's doctor as he emerged from the patient's room. "I'm glad you're both still here."
"What's wrong, Doctor?" Clarie asked.
"Nothing. I just wanted to let you know that the surgery went fine. He's in a recovery room right now, and we'll be moving him into a patient room very soon."
"Can we see him?" Hobbes asked hopefully.
"Not until he's in his room. I'll have the nurse notify you we he can receive visitors."
"Thank you, doctor," Claire sighed sitting back down.
Twenty minutes later, the nurse came down the hall instructing the two to follow her. The corridor seemed endless, the lights were blinding, and monitors were beeping everywhere. Shock hit both Claire and Hobbes simultaneously as they walked into Darien's room. There were countless tubes coming from Darien, a mask covered his face, and a large bandage spotted with blood covered the surgical incision on his chest.
"Jesus," Hobbes remarked as he stopped in the doorway.
Claire continued forward undisturbed. She walked to Darien's bedside and grasped his hand.
"We're here, Darien," she whispered as she looked down on him. "You're O.K." With that she squeezed, pulling a chair close so she could sit.
"He should be coming around soon. It takes a bit for the anaesthesia to wear off," The nurse said as she checked Darien's vitals. "I'll be back in a little while to check him again."
Hobbes walked into the room slowly and then tried to sink into the other chair. He missed the chair and landed on the floor with a thump.
"Bobby are you..." Clarie started.
"I'm fine," Hobbes replied slightly embarrassed.
Claire could tell Hobbes was still a bit shaky. Then she remembered that he did still have a dose of counteragent in his bloodstream.
He settled himself into the chair and rubbed his hands over the bald part of his head. He was tired still, it was something he always did when he was worn out or frustrated. In this case he was sure to be both.
"Darien?" Claire jumped. "He squeezed my hand, Bobby. Go get the nurse." She placed her hand over his forehead...such a motherly gesture, she realized.
Hobbes bolted out the door yelling "Nurse! Hey nurse!" as Claire began coaxing Darien's eyes to open.
"Darien, open your eyes if you can. Can you do that?"
Darien groaned and tried to roll over. His eyes snapped open when he realized he wasn't able to move very well without causing himself pain.
"It's all right, Darien. You're in the hospital. Do you remember what happened?" Claire asked trying to calm him down.
Darien weakly shook his head, his face conveying the most sincere form of lost knowledge. Trying to speak, he brought his arm to his mouth, attempting to remove the oxygen mask, and tube in his throat, that prevented any sound.
"Wait, I'll help," Claire said as she gently removed the mask from his face, and pulled the tube out since she WAS his doctor. She stroked his hair as he began to speak.
"What...happened?" He tried to swallow and found his mouth was too dry to even wet his tongue.
"You were shot." She wanted to keep the answers simple. Claire had no idea how much he would even remember, having just woken up.
As Darien was about to speak again, Hobbes bounded in the door followed by six nurses. "I got a nurse," he said to Claire as he pointed quickly at his procession.
The nurses each gave Claire a semi‑annoyed nod as they circled the bed, checking monitors and reading stats.
"Hey, buddy," Hobbes directed to his wounded partner as he rounded the bed.
Darien's eyes got wide and a look of hostility flushed over his face.
"What? He still a bit...you know?" Hobbes directed at Claire as he spun a finger around his ear.
"Not at all, Hobbes. Darien, what is it?" She tried to coax his gaze back onto her but he wouldn't move.
"He....he....the gun..." he finally got out as his arm came up pointed at his partner.
"Easy, Darien," Claire started not wanting Darien to start thrashing around. He could open his stitches easily if he moved too much.
One of the nurses turned to Hobbes. "I'm sorry sir, I'm going to have to ask you to leave. You seen to be upsetting the patient."
"Now just a minute..." Hobbes started.
"Please, sir. If you don't leave I'll have to call security." The nurse replied in an icy tone.
"I'll be back later," Hobbes told his friend as he backed out of the room, concern obvious on his face as he shot Claire a look across the room. One of the nurses swung the curtain surrounding the bed shut and continued her stat reading.
"Darien, you need to calm down. Please," she begged as she firmly placed her hands on his shoulders, holding him down. Normally, she was sure he could have knocked her right off. But he was so weak, she succeeded immediately.
"Hobbes..." he began, squinting his eyes and groaning as a nurse flooded his eye with light, checking his vision.
"Yes, Darien..." she replied. Glancing towards the door and through the crack in the curtain, she checked to make sure no one was in earshot who needn't be. "Darien...I'll tell you but you need to remain calm."
He nodded slowly as he looked helplessly to her. "You were shot point blank in the chest, Darien. It was pretty bad. You lost a lot of blood. And Darien...your memory is correct. It was Hobbes that shot you."
Hobbes paced up and down the hallway. He was a little freaked that Darien thought it was him that shot him. He knew the Keeper would straighten everything out. He looked up as she left Darien's room. "How is he? Did you tell him..."
"Yes, but he needs his sleep. You can come back in the morning. I'm surprised it took so long for the staff to shoo me out the door. Since neither of us are family." Claire put a comforting hand on his arm.
"Keep, you all right?" Hobbes asked noting a strange look on Claire's face.
"I'm fine...just really tired. I'm going home to rest." Claire said. She walked down the hall wearily.
Hobbes went out to his van and got ready to leave. He saw Claire get into her van, but he noticed she turned left out of the parking lot. 'She lives on the East side not the west,' Hobbes thought and then changed his mind. 'What are you so paranoid for?' he shook his head. 'She's probably going to get something to eat before she goes home. Come to think of it...I'm a little hungry myself,' he turned on his van and turned right out of the lot heading for an all night Taco Bell.
A figured smiled as he watched the pair leave the hospital. "My plan is working perfectly," he laughed. The strange car with tinted windows followed in the direction of the Keeper's van.
Pulling out of the lot, Hobbes slowed to a stop and looked a ways down the road following Claire's van. He noticed immediately a car following closely behind hers. Without thinking twice, the seasoned agent pulled his vehicle to the left and followed the car at
a safe distance.
Claire's house was a twenty minute drive. And not once along the way did the car in front of him detour from Claire's tail. Hobbes knew his instinct was leading him in the right direction. He pulled the van off on a side road, leaving him a well enough vantage point of Claire as she parked her van and opened her door.
Seconds later, the unfamiliar car following her slowed to a halt behind her. It took Hobbes only moments to recognize the driver. He had one hand on his gun, the other on the door handle, as he watched the driver exit his car.
Hobbes saw Claire turn to face the man and watched in horror as her face lit up as she flashed a smile at him.
"I knew you were somewhere close," she said as she opened her arms. "Missed me already, Arnaud? I just saw you this morning."
He swept her up into an embrace and joined lips as Hobbes watched from across the street. He blinked back the surprise, tightening the hold on his gun, but unable to move.
"We'd better go inside, love," Arnaud purred. "We don't want to attract any unwanted attention," he looked in the direction Hobbes was standing and gave an evil smile. 'This is for interrupting me and Fawkes the last time we met in his Uncle's cabin,' He thought maliciously. Arnaud didn't waste any time ushering Claire into her home.
Hobbes stood and stared. He had caught what Arnaud had said, but he still couldn't figure out why the Keeper was with HIM. 'How could she do this to Darien? How could she stand to be around that bastard at all?' Hobbes was very unsure what to do.
He let his instincts take control as he slammed the van into drive and spun down the street. He could find Arnaud again if he needed to. And right now...his only concern was getting to Darien and making sure he was O.K.
Spinning into the hospital parking lot, Hobbes narrowly missed a few pillars as he jammed the van into a compact parking spot. He sprinted upstairs to the CCU unit of the hospital, bumping into countless stretchers, knocking into a number of nurses. He shot around the corner of Darien's room, flying to the curtain that separated the room.
He flung it open with a swipe of his arm, immediately going for his gun and pulling it on the man who stood poised over his partner, needle in hand.
"Step away, Eberts! NOW!!"
Eberts looked at Hobbes and smiled. A very odd look on his normally stoic face.
"I mean it, EBERTS! STEP AWAY!!!" Hobbes shouted, his voice rousing Darien out of a restless sleep.
Darien slammed the nurse call button terrified to see Hobbes holding a gun on Eberts. Darien feared Hobbes had finally lost it. First he shot him and now he was ready to kill Eberts as well.
The nurse ran into the room and saw Hobbes holding a gun. She turned and went back out the door and buzzed for security. "I have an insane man trying to kill a patient and his visitor!" She shouted into the intercom.
Hobbes paid no attention. He held his gun steadily on Eberts who hadn't budged. Darien lay there, a panicked look on his face.
"Put it down Robert! You WILL be sorry." Eberts raised an eyebrow at Hobbes as the agent looked from Darien to Eberts.
"What is that?" Hobbes motioned with his head at the syringe Eberts held. "And whatever the hell it is, PUT IT DOWN!"
"Gladly," Eberts answered as he smiled a broad grin at the armed man.
Hobbes felt the blow from behind as it rocketed through his head. He hit the ground with a solid thud, his gun sliding across the tiled floor.
"Thank you, sir," he heard Ebert's voice say.
Hobbes slipped into unconsciousness. Eberts picked the syringe back up and injected into Hobbes arm.
"What, was that?" Darien asked.
"Just a sedative. We knew that Hobbes would come back to your room, so the Keeper asked me to give it to him." Eberts motioned to security. "Please escort him to the psychiatric ward. He's a government agent, who was under too much strain." Eberts handed the doctor who entered the room a card. "This is his psychiatrist's phone number. She will verify this information and inform you of the medications he's already taking."
"So, he really did lose it then?" Darien mumbled the memories of the day still very hazy.
"Yes. The Keeper told me she noticed some irrational behavior in him and everything was confirmed when he shot you." Eberts answered. "I have to go inform her of these events. Good night, Darien."
The room Hobbes woke up in was eerily familiar to him as he forced his lids open, fighting back the throbbing the beat at the back of his eyes. He tried to put his hands over his head, to squeeze the ache away, and was stupefied to find his arms tightly drawn behind him; the white jacket firmly strapped around him.
"What the...?" he said to himself as he jumped to his feet, surveying the room. Pads lined the walls as well as the floor and a large mirror covered an entire side of the room. He rolled his eyes as it struck him....they had him in the padded room at the agency.
'This is nuts!' he thought to himself. 'What the hell is going on?' His mind flashed on last night. The Keeper in league with Arnaud... and Eberts about to dose Fawkes with something in a syringe... 'Oh God! I have to get out of here! Arnaud must surely be planning to kill Darien!' he thought as he struggled against his restraints.
"Hey!! Let me out of here! I'm not crazy!" he shouted at the mirrored wall.
Claire, Eberts and Arnaud watched Hobbes from the other side of the wall.
"Of course you're not, Mister Hobbes," Arnaud chuckled lightly placing his arm around Claire. "But no one will believe you now. Not after that display at the hospital. And now Fawkes is mine to deal with. I think I'll keep him around, now that you and the Official are out of the picture, he'll be easy to control."
Eberts left the room and settled himself into the chair in the Official's office.
Arnaud turned to Claire and kissed her. Having Darien's Keeper and Mr. Eberts under his control was easier than he thought it would be. With Hobbes declared insane and the Official placed safely under lock and key in another one of the Agency's labs he would have free reign over everything.
Back at the hospital, Darien sat slowly up in his bed. The room still swam around him, but he'd felt worse. Needles tugged at him from everywhere, stinging his skin as he pulled them from his arms and chest. He listened and snickered as the monitors surrounding his bed flatlined.
"Ah crap," he said rolling his eyes as every nurse on the floor ran into his room, crowding around his bed.
"Mr. Fawkes!" the head nurse scolded him. "Lay down!"
"Don't make us restrain you," another nurse commented. "You are not well enough to leave yet and if you insist on pulling the I.V. lines out we will have to strap you down."
Darien laid back and sighed. He didn't like being treated like an invalid. He also wondered why Claire or Eberts or even the Official hadn't been in to see him yet today. He was worried about Hobbes and every time he asked one of the hospital staff they dodged his questions. He just wished his memory of yesterday's events were better.
He was starting to remember some things, but they just didn't make any sense after what Claire and Eberts had told him.
He remembered vaguely seeing Hobbes's gun, remembered being shot, but the image of Hobbes pulling the trigger just wouldn't reveal itself.
"Hey! Watch those hands!" Darien laughed as a nurse attempted to reattach an I.V.
"Sorry, Mr. Fawkes. I wasn't trying to be fresh," she replied smiling sweetly at her patient.
"Hey, that's O.K.," he answered as he laid back down. "So, how you doin' today?" he flashed a brilliant smile at the nurse that made her blush as she hurried from the room.
Darien settled back down into the bed and flicked on the T.V. set. After surveying the limited amount of channels, and the lack of anything decent to watch, he turned the T.V back off. He hoped the doctors would be able to help Hobbes regain his sanity. He missed having his partner to talk too.
The nurse came back in and gave Darien his next dose of demerol into his I.V. line and rushed back out before he could even say hello.
Darien's eyes closed as the effects of the pain medication kicked in. About 3 hours later Darien woke with a start. He'd just had the weirdest dream.
Black and white swam through his mind as he tossed in bed. Everything seemed fuzzy yet so clear at the same time. He could see the agency doors from his viewpoint on the sidewalk. He was suddenly very aware of a sweet aroma...looking to his side he saw Claire's panicked face and his hand around her neck.
Pain racked his face as he turned in bed. Hobbes' voice shot at him from somewhere and he spun to see his partner aiming a gun at him. He was saying something but couldn't make it out...
"Hobbes..." Darien muttered in his sleep. His head began throbbing as he turned his head to look back at the agency and was greeted by the vision of Eberts, gun loaded and locked on his chest.
He heard a loud BANG and saw a trace of smoke as his head whipped back towards Hobbes who was screaming at Eberts. The noise startled Darien into reality.
Bolting upright in bed, Darien jumped from the bed, ripping out every needle and probe attached to him. Wincing in pain, he threw the tubes to the floor as the monitors once again flatlined. In his hospital pants, he ran bare chested and barefoot down the cold corridor. The nurses yelled to him as he smacked the exit button on the CCU door and fled from the building.
His mind was racing as he ran outside. 'What was going on? Why did Claire and Eberts want him to think Hobbes had shot him? And then thinking Hobbes was crazy... He stopped for a moment. Oh Jesus, Hobbes!'
Hobbes had been trying to protect him from Eberts the whole time. But what was going on with Claire? And why did Eberts shoot him? Darien ducked behind a dumpster when he saw Eberts pull up in an Agency car. He quicksilvered himself and waited for Eberts to go inside before getting into the car. He hot wired the car and sped off in the direction of the Agency. He wanted answers NOW!
He threw the car into park across the street from the agency building and sat there trying to collect his thoughts. His chest ached where a small trickle of blood was beginning to ooze out from under his soaked bandage. Placing his hand over the gauze, he turned to look in the back seat.
He found an extra coat from Eberts but threw it back down.
"Freakin' midget.." he cursed as his anger bubbled over. He gingerly got out of the car and padded his way across the street, wincing as the asphalt cut into his bare feet.
Standing outside the glass doors, which had been miraculous repaired, Darien took a deep breath. He had no idea what to expect. Glancing around, Darien let the quicksilver envelop him as he pushed open the doors.
The Agency was oddly quiet. The Official's office and the lab were empty. Memories started to flood back to him. The weird silence reminded him of the day before. He was going into madness and no one had been around except for Hobbes.
He had an insightful thought and ran down to the observation room for the padded room. The door was open and he peered inside. The room was empty. He looked into the double glass and saw Hobbes fighting to get the straightjacket off.
"Aw, crap!" he swore as he ran to open the door for the padded room.
The door felt like it weighed a ton and a half as the Darien fought to pull it open. Hobbes's head turned to face the entrance and whoever may be coming in on him.
"Fawkes!" he yelled with a smile on his face. But the glee in his voice faded immediately as he saw the blood pouring from this partner's wound.
Darien looked up at Hobbes as his friend ran towards him. "Turn around," Darien hissed through gritted teeth as he leaned against the door frame.
Hobbes spun around keeping his head turned towards Darien. The straps for the jacket were quickly unbuckled. Hobbes flailed his arms madly, pulling free of the restraints.
"Come on, Fawkes," he started, grabbing his partner and holding him up, "we gotta get you some help."
"Wait. I want to know what is going on! Has everyone in this Agency besides you and me gone completely insane? Claire and Eberts had me convinced that you'd lost it." Darien groaned as he leaned on Hobbes for support.
Hobbes turned to his partner and spoke one word. "Arnaud."
Darien stared at Bobby for a minute. "I should have known!"
Hobbes walked Darien slowly out to the van and strapped him in. "Hang in there, buddy," he said as he hurried to the drivers side. He got in and went to put his keys in the ignition. "Um..." he said as he started fumbling at his pockets.
Darien looked over at his disheveled partner and gingerly leaned over the seat. He carefully reached down under the dashboard with his left hand, his right palm holding onto the ache that filled his chest. Grimacing, Darien fumbled below the dash for a split second, eyes shut, before the van roared to life.
"Thanks, buddy," Hobbes said as he helped his partner right himself back into his seat.
Darien closed his eyes and leaned back against the seat. The pain was making his head feel swimmy again.
"Darien! Come on big guy. Hang on," Hobbes coached while he broke speed records barreling down the street. "Aw crap!" he fumed as the sound of a police car blaring behind him.
He wasn't about to stop. Hobbes slammed on the gas pedal, watching the speedometer jiggle as the van lunged down the street. "Don't you do it!" he yelled at the vehicle as he screeched around the corner on the way to the hospital. He slammed to a stop at the emergency room entrance, jumping from the van. Running to the passenger side, he screamed at the attendants who rushed out of the double doors, "Get me Dr. Casey O'Claire! Now!!"
Hobbes helped the ER attendants get Darien onto a stretcher as they wheeled him into the ER.
Darien blacked out before they even had him settled.
Hobbes was glad that Dr. O'Claire did not work at the same hospital that Darien was at yesterday. He wasn't about to trust anyone else except for her with Darien's life right now.
The cop that had been following Hobbes stepped up behind him. He hadn't seen them take Darien into the hospital. "Hands up, sir. You're under arrest."
Hobbes turned to face the man. "We're federal agents. I was speeding in here trying to save my partner's life, so back off!"
Hobbes produced his badge and gave his patented 'I told you so' look to the officer as he made his way back to the squad car. He rushed into the hospital to check on Darien. After being reassured that Darien was out of harm's way, Hobbes flew to his van and sped over to case out Claire's house. There were no cars out front and all the windows were closed up tight. He made his way to the front door and smashed it open.
Pavlov barked as he entered Claire's house. Hobbes stopped and shooed Pavlov out of his way. Everything in Claire's house seemed to be in order as he made his way to the stairs. He climbed the stairs wishing he'd been able to retrieve his gun before leaving the Agency. He'd have to rely on his martial arts skills if any trouble showed up.
He walked into Claire's bedroom and noticed a syringe in the wastebasket. He closed the ties on the plastic bag in the basket and took the contents with him. Maybe this had something to do with Claire's recent behavior. He walked back down to the van and went back to the hospital to talk to Dr. O'Claire.
He asked to the whereabouts of Casey and was pointed down the corridor. He found her outside of her office on the phone. He motioned for her to hang up. She only shushed him
and told him to wait.
Annoyed, he turned away and began pacing, waiting for her to end her call. He found the nearest group of chairs and sat down, bag in hand. He swung it back and forth, finally grasping the handles and yanking it open. Glancing into the bag, he studied the syringe. The vile didn't seem to have anything left in it, but he knew from previous training that didn't necessarily mean that it was empty.
Casey made her way down the hallway and stopped abruptly in front of Hobbes. "What happened to him?" she said shortly.
"It's a really long story, Doc. I need you to check on something for me." Hobbes said handing her the bag. "Can you determine what substance was in the syringe?"
"I can, but I want to know what happened first," Casey said eyes fixed on Hobbes' face.
Hobbes sighed and rubbed his hands together. He didn't want to get her too involved, but he had to tell her something he owed her at least that much.
"Looks like we trusted some people we shouldn't have," he said calmly hoping she wouldn't ask for too much more. "Our buddy Darien there paid the price."
She just stood and stared at him. She wanted to scream at him, to make him tell her everything. Instead, she decided against it, rudely grabbing the bag from Hobbes' hands. "Follow me," she said as she walked away.
She took him to a small, dimly lit room in the back of the hospital where sat a small man in glasses behind a large microscope. Casey handed him the bag and whispered something to him out of Hobbes' earshot.
The man took the syringe from the bag and held it up to his small desk lamp. "Yeah, I can work with this," he directed to Casey.
"Ok, while you two take care of things here, I've got to run. Take care of him, doc," Hobbes nodded to Casey as he left.
"I will, be careful yourself," she called before he was out of earshot. Casey shook her head. What was she getting herself into?
Hobbes walked out to the van and stopped when he noticed Eberts and Claire pulling into a parking space. He backtracked into the hospital before they saw him. He raced back down the hall and spotted Casey. "We have a problem..."
He grabbed Casey and hauled her down the hallway to Darien's room and locked the door, peering through the window. Claire and Eberts neared the door, stopping to speak to a nurse who pointed them directly towards Darien's room.
"Dammit," Hobbes muttered as he spun to face Darien. His partner lay unconscious in bed, oblivious to their situation.
"What can I do?" Casey asked concerned as she looked over toward Darien. She never forgave him for what he had done, but she wasn't going to put a patient at risk at any cost.
"Lock the door after me," Hobbes said. "I'm gonna try to get them to follow me." Hobbes slid out the door and Casey locked it after him.
She was very afraid about what was happening. She still did have some feelings for Darien and she really did not want him to die in front of her. She picked up the phone in the room to call security.
Hobbes coughed loudly as he exited the door to Darien's room and headed down the hallway. Claire saw him first, pointing Eberts in his direction. The lackey closed in on his tail immediately. Ducking around a corner, Hobbes peeked around the wall to see his tracker come up on him.
It took him only a second to reach out and put Eberts in a choke hold while grabbing his weapon. Holding the gun to Eberts' head, Hobbes shoved him against the wall.
"Spill it, Eberts!" he shouted, drawing the attention of the nurses on call.
Eberts remained silent and still. Hobbes pulled him from the wall and shoved him in the direction of Darien's room. From down the corridor, he could see Claire trying her best to get one of the nurses to unlock Darien's door. The nurse's expression showed complete bewilderment. And she was reaching for her key!
"Keep! Hey Keep!" he yelled as he pushed Eberts ahead. "Don't do it!"
Claire's face went solemn as she saw the weapon pressed against her partner's head. She turned away annoyed.
"Talk! Eberts!" Hobbes snarled. Security came down the hall and were floored by the sight they came upon.
Claire backed down the hall trying to sneak away. A guard came up behind her and pushed her against the wall.
Another guard knocked on the door the Darien's room. "Dr. O'Claire. This is security. We have the suspects in custody."
Casey opened the door carefully, making sure that security had things under control.
Hobbes tossed Eberts at one of the security guards and watched as both his coworkers were put into handcuffs.
"We'll take them into custody, Agent Hobbes," the guard told him as he lead the two away.
Hobbes walked over to Casey who was intent on watching Darien as he slept.
"What are you going to do now?" she asked.
"I'm not sure," he said. "I've still got a battle ahead of me. And I'm not sure I can wait for Darien here to get better."
"Please take care of yourself," Casey pleaded. "I would rather not have both of you in here at the same time."
"Thanks. I will. There are some things I need to check out. Do you have a pen and a small piece of paper?"
"Sure," and Casey handed Hobbes what he requested.
Hobbes jotted down his cell phone number and handed it back to her. "Could you please call me when they have the results on the contents of that vile? Or if Darien gets any worse. I'll try to be back here as soon as possible"
Casey nodded.
Hobbes went back to his van and returned to the Agency. He wanted to find the lab where Arnaud had stashed the Official. He was concerned about what sort of condition the Official would be in. He'd actually started to like the old fat bastard.
He walked the corridors silently, listening for any sound. He peered into empty rooms, searched empty closets...but found nothing. Making his way back to the lab, Hobbes kept his cool. He would solve this if it was the last thing he did...and it almost was. The shot rang out, ricocheting off the metal frame of the lab door as it slid open. Ducking behind the wall, he yelled out over the reverberating sound, "Put it down, Arnaud!"
"Come on in Agent Hobbes, we've been expecting you."
Hobbes ducked his head in before letting off a shot of his own from Eberts gun.
Arnaud had ducked under a table expecting the shot from Hobbes.
Hobbes walked into the room slowly. "Come on out, Arnaud. This game ends now!"
"I think not," Arnaud said with an amused tone in his voice. "You see, I'm not alone in here."
Hobbes froze as Arnaud produced from his end of the room, a bruised and battered Official. Gun pointed at his head, he staggered into the center of the lab as Arnaud coaxed him closer to Hobbes.
"Make the call, Agent Hobbes..." he smiled as he neared the door.
"Let him go and I won't kill you," Hobbes answered cocking his weapon.
"Try to shoot around him. I'd like to see that." With that, Arnaud flung the Official toward Hobbes knocking him off balance, toppling both he and the agent.
Arnaud spun around taking the opportunity to run to Claire's desk, scooping a pair of disks into his palm as he ran from the lab.
"I'm all right, Hobbes," the Official gasped. "Go after him."
"Right, sir," Hobbes nodded and then chased after Arnaud. He was not about to let that bastard get away again. He got outside just as Arnaud started his car. He took aim and fired at the car's left rear tire taking it out in one shot.
Arnaud sped away on his limping car, rubber flying from the busted tire. Hobbes stopped running, catching his breath. He stood for a moment before turning to make his way back to the agency.
The Official and Hobbes made their way to the hospital, and pulling into the emergency exit once again, Hobbes helped his boss from the van.
They went inside, immediately finding Casey, and set to the task of making sure the Official was alright. Hobbes made his way to Darien's room and took a seat by his bed. His partner was sound asleep, monitors beeping a reassuring rhythm.
"What are we gonna do, buddy?" he whispered as he rested his head in his hands. He was so tired he could hardly keep his eyes open. "I let him get away...I'm so sorry. I let him get away...." he trailed off as his head bobbed, finally finding a resting place on the back of the chair.
Casey walked to Darien's room. She wanted to check on him again and give Hobbes the results the lab had come up with from the sample in the vial. When she entered the room she saw Darien resting peacefully.
But Hobbes had slumped over from the chair he was in and onto the floor. She immediately ran to check his pulse and it was very erratic.
She slammed the intercom and announced a 'Code Blue'.
To be continued......
((Ok guys I know I didn't do an extreme amount of rewrite in this part but I need to know if you like this at all and if I should keep re‑writing the fic‑‑))
