A Wedding Song 10: Everybody Hurts--- Conclusion
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"I guess I should...." Bobby began, but he stopped when Darien squeezed his hand. "You sure?"
"I need to be the one to.... There's stuff even you don't know, Bobby. Hell, a couple spots even I'm not sure what really went down. I have to talk it out.... get everything straight."
"Okay. I'm right here if...."
"I know. If I need it I promise I'll ask. This morning, when I.... You understand I didn't.... right?"
"Yeah. I understand."
This exchange brought a brief, snorting laugh from Cheryl.
"What?" Darien questioned her.
"Not that I ever had any doubts you two are genuinely in love, but if I did, that would have erased them. The only people I've ever seen perform that kind of shorthand speech are the ones who've bonded at the deepest possible level."
"Wait... say that again?" Bobby asked.
"In layman's terms? I don't have a clue what those last three sentences meant; therefore, you must be in love. Okay, now that the tension's been broken, back to business. Darien? I think you had just started to talk about the children when..."
".... when I chickened out?"
"I was going to say when it got too hard for you to continue. You are no coward, Darien. I keep hoping you'll see that. Accepting that little piece of truth might open your eyes to a lot of other truths as well."
"Yeah? Like what?"
"Later. For now, back to the story, alright?"
"I know. Five yard penalty for delay of game." he joked, smiling sadly at her.
"Let's call it penalty declined, repeat first down."
Darien's smile widened and Cheryl could see a question about her football knowledge forming on his lips. She quickly shot it down. "I'll make you a deal. If there's any time left today, and if any of us have the energy, *then* we can talk about the Chargers. Okay?"
"Okay. I really have to do this don't I?" he acknowledged, sobering abruptly.
"You don't have to, no. My motto is 'Option not obligation.' The only thing you have to do is make a choice."
Darien gazed solemnly at Cheryl, then at Bobby. Finally he pulled his legs onto the couch, wrapped his arms around them and dropped his chin onto his knees.
"I know, I know. Shielding. Just this once..."
"Go ahead, if it'll help. I never meant to imply that the instinct to protect yourself is wrong or is something I disapprove of. I just wanted to be sure you were aware you were doing it. You will reach a point where the instinct won't rule your life anymore."
"From your mouth to.... Anyway, you said the last thing I told you was about the kids, right?"
"Right. There were fifty children?"
"Close. Forty-nine. The only way we found out what was goin' down was that one of the kids escaped an' managed to get to us. He didn't know a whole lot, just the basics. We kinda hoped they'd all be in one place. The first location we hit on Thursday mornin' was big enough for it, but... no such luck. The bastards weren't gonna make it that easy. They split em up pretty much evenly.... but that meant we had five buildings to get to.... in forty-eight hours. After I found the first ten kids, I told Bobby what floor they were on, kept 'em in sight 'till he got there. This little boy.... I swear, he wasn't much more than a baby.... six, seven years old.... he was just standin' there in the middle of a circle of kids.... starin' off into the distance.... with a gun in his hand."
At this point Darien looked to Bobby for the portion of the story that had occurred while he was gone.
"Is it okay, doc? I mean... it's only 'cause I sent him back down to set somethin' up for me...."
"It's alright. Go ahead, Bobby."
"Okay. See, I figured the only way to get the kids and all our guys out safe was usin' tear gas as a distraction, but.... it needed a few minutes before it'd be ready an'... somebody had to get the shooter's attention so he wouldn't catch on. I wasn't about to put Darien in the line a'fire, so..."
"So he decides, all by himself, that he makes a better target an' sends me off on some stupid errand that he coulda set up just as easily over the radio...."
"The kid had a handgun! There wasn't time to discuss it in committee!"
"I am not a committee, I'm your fiancée!"
"Gentlemen."
The one word was all that was necessary.
"Sorry, doc." Bobby offered sheepishly.
"It's alright. We'll come back to Bobby's motivations later. Darien?"
"Oh, yeah. The story.... The tear gas stunt worked better than we hoped it would. Bobby got the gun, the backup teams came an' took the kids out..... shipped 'em off to be deprogrammed. The office got us the next two locations an' we pulled the same trick. It just kept workin'.... We saved thirty kids before it got too dark an' we got too damn tired to keep goin'. I shoulda known...."
"Known what?"
"My life... it's been nasty sometimes, but... it did teach me one thing. When the leaves start fallin', watch out for the tree branch that's right behind 'em. I let myself think we could actually do it.... we could save the rest of the kids the same way. I got arrogant.... that made me forget.... I didn't pay attention....."
Suddenly Darien began rocking back and forth, eyes twisted shut, expression sheer pain. "Crap. Bobby.... I can't....."
"You can. You're so close. Don't give up now...."
"I'm not. I just need.... please."
"Gimme your hands. I'm gonna help, babe, but ya gotta let go a'your knees.... good. Shut out everything else, okay? Hear me.... listen to my voice. I'm right here. It's all gonna be okay. You're so amazin' to me, you know that? You can do anything.... walk through anything. I believe in you.... an' I'm not goin away. Not ever. Just stay strong...." He soothed, shifting closer in order to be in easy reach. Slowly, he moved through the familiar facial touch routine Darien had come to depend on for relief in times of high stress, but when the first cycle was finished, instead of returning to the beginning, Bobby switched to an addition the two had developed during a yoga session some weeks back.
Gently, starting at Darien's shoulders, Bobby glided his hands down his fiancée's arms over and over, repeating the movement until he felt the taut- steel-wire tension begin to flow out of the other man. At that point, Hobbes provided Darien a minute or two of firm hand massage, easing potential cramps out of the fingers, and let him go. Darien, his eyes always on Bobby, chose not to return to his usual protective position.
In stunned silence, Cheryl watched the couple interact and had to suppress a faint flare of emotion she refused to admit was anything even related to jealousy. It was obvious to her now that their bond went deeper than she could ever have guessed. Shaking herself mentally, she quickly jotted some notes about what she'd just observed and a reminder to have Bobby teach her the technique he'd used.
"Sorry again, Doc, but.... he needed me."
"I noticed. Quite a powerful demonstration."
"Nah. It's just somethin' I do. It helps."
"I see that too. Ready to go on, Darien?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I guess so."
"Okay. You'd just finished telling me about Thursday...."
"Bobby had to make me go home that night. If it were up to me... I woulda stayed out till I found 'em all, even if it took everything I had left. I wanted.... needed to find every one of those kids an' be sure they were safe. As it was I slept maybe an hour between the time we crawled into bed an' the phone call at four-thirty in the mornin'. We got dressed, ate somethin'... Hobbes ate, anyway. I couldn't. By five thirty we were on the road.... but we didn't get outta the house exactly when we wanted to. When I wanted to. The truck keys did a vanishin' act, we had to spend time searchin'...."
Bobby's fingers entwined with Darien's and tightened, lending him strength to push on through the most difficult portion of the tale. Darien thanked the other man with his eyes, drew and expelled a steadying breath and continued. "I kept tellin' Hobbes somethin' was wrong. I could just... feel it. It wasn't like before. My heart was goin' crazy, I couldn't breathe right. I just kept sayin'.... drive faster. Damn it, drive faster.... By the time we pulled up it was.... quarter past six? The teams started settin' up around this old house.... they started, but.... there was... a gunshot.... an' they all just.... stood there... in shock. I ran in the front door.... there was a.... a little girl this time. A girl! I mean.... she was like.... nine years old.... an' there she was, a kid already on the floor, an' she's starin' at a boy no older than her.... drawin' down on him like he was a paper target! She fired so fast.... before I could get to her an'.... it was like the whole world.... twisted on me. I grabbed her before she could pull the trigger again.... I ripped it out of her hand, threw it against a wall.... I think. That.... that was when everybody else came roarin' in behind me.... at least that's what Bobby says."
"You don't remember?"
"No. Like I said... the world sorta... twisted. All I could see.... all I could think about was this other girl.... the one who was shot first. Thing is, it wasn't.... I wasn't seein' what was really there...."
"Who were you seeing?" Cheryl asked gently, though she believed she already knew the answer. When Darien began to sob quietly and turned to Bobby again, it confirmed her suspicion.
"I... picked up this.... beautiful little girl.... God himself couldn't have convinced me it wasn't my baby I was holdin'.... I thought it was my little Bobbi.... an' I knew if it took every ounce of strength I had left.... I was gonna save her.... I sat there on the floor rockin' her.... givin' her mouth to mouth.... Hobbes, I'm so sorry. You couldn't know.... I didn't have a way to tell you what was goin' on in my head... so when you made me give up the body.... tried to make me understand she was gone..... "
"God... so that's why you've been so afraid to touch her..."
"Maybe.... probably. If I hold her.... it'll come true. I'm so scared it'll all turn out to be true...."
When the couple embraced again, both crying this time, Cheryl gave them several minutes of comfort and connection before she interrupted.
"Darien. I'm so sorry you had to go through that. The death of a child, even if they aren't yours, is one of the most devastating things anyone can witness. Anyone facing something so awful, who already had a young child at home...."
"No. Not everybody woulda let the cheese slip off their cracker. That was all me. I know that now."
"New penalty. Ten yards for jumping to conclusions. You had an extreme reaction to a traumatic situation. There's nothing unusual in that and it doesn't mean you went crazy, even temporarily."
"I know, I know. It's that type thing you were talkin' about, but how come I have to be the type I am? Why can't I just.... shake it off like Bobby does?"
"Have you looked at him in the past few minutes? Really looked at him? He's grieving too, Darien. It's not over what you went both went through, I admit. He's moved past that. His pain is for *your* pain. Even the waterproof, let-it-roll-off-my-back types suffer. They just transfer the pain to something else, some other problem or crisis, and use it as motivation to help others. That doesn't make Bobby's sorrow any less legitimate."
"That only answered part of my question."
"We are who we are, I'm afraid. All you can do about your type is learn to manage your reactions in tough, painful situations. For you that means talking. Lots and lots of talking. It's sort of like being in a boat with a slow leak. If you bail on a regular basis, you'll stay afloat indefinitely, but the longer you let the water rise, the more effort you have to put into getting back to status quo."
"I've let it go for a long time, huh?"
"Almost too long. Remember the phrase I used earlier, saturation point? You'd taken on as much water as you possibly could by Friday. When the children died it was just one drop too much."
"I was drowning?"
"Precisely. Let's back up for a minute to your description of the events at the fourth location. I'd like you to clarify something for me if you can."
"Sure. I'll do my best."
"Tell me again about the gun. What did you do with it?"
"Like I said, I tore it out of her hand.... an' I threw it away."
"Last time you added the words 'I think.' Try again. Close your eyes. See yourself entering the house...."
"Okay. Can we not do this? This is one of those moments I'm not really.... clear on."
"Then we need to fix that. For your own peace of mind, you need to understand everything that happened that day, Darien. Close your eyes."
"Look, you don't understand.... I hate guns. I won't carry one, touch one, I won't even look at one. I don't have any real reason to question what I did that morning."
"You were questioning it a few minutes ago."
"No I wasn't. I... I was so lost.... while I was sittin' there.... I was in my own personal "Twilight Zone", ya know? I told you, I don't remember anything except that... beautiful girl.... with an ugly hole in her chest.... an' blood all over her shirt...."
Sensing Darien preparing to set the possibly false memory in cement, Cheryl turned to Bobby instead, hoping he could either confirm or refute Darien's account.
"Bobby. Let's do an FBF on this from your point of view, okay?"
"Doc...."
"It's important. If he's right, I'll let it go."
"Hold it." Darien interjected. "What's FBF?"
"It means Frame By Frame." Bobby explained. "You go back over somethin' you think you remember like you're lookin' at a movie on a VCR in super slow- mo. You pull every detail you can outta one picture, then you go to the next."
"You don't trust me? You don't believe I'm tellin' the truth?"
"I think there may be a truth here that you aren't ready to face. Bobby?"
Hobbes closed his eyes and breathed deeply.
"You want me to start with the first look I got at Fawkes an' the room?"
"That should do fine. Absorb every detail, remember. Don't just rely on how well you know Darien. Study him, the other children, the walls, the windows...."
"The kids.... they haven't moved. They're still in the circle.... waitin'. The room is just a run-down room in a fallin' down house. Peelin' wallpaper, filthy windows. Can't hardly see out. Darien..... he's got his back to me. His legs are tucked up under him, like he went to his knees before he sat down. Funny how his legs look even longer that way. I can see he's holdin' a kid on his lap, but not whether it's a boy or a girl. He's bent way over the kid. His shirt's come untucked, but that's nothin' new.... ahhhhh crap. Damn it, kid...."
"What is it, Bobby?" Cheryl encouraged.
"There's a gun in his waistband... at the back. He musta had to pull his shirt out when he shoved it in there. His shirt's always messy.... that's why it didn't register... besides I was lookin' at the girl, tryin' to get through to my partner...."
"That's a damn lie an' you know it! I only touched it long enough to get rid of it!"
Bobby turned and stared at Darien.
"You think I don't know what it looks like? You think after all my years with the feds that *I* don't know what it looks like when somebody's tryin' to hide a gun? I taught *you* what to look for!"
"I wouldn't do that! I make you put yours away at home, don't I? I do that so I don't have to look at it!"
"Yeah, but the last week or so, you've been nuts about it. You barely let me get in the house an' the gun has to go. You wouldn't talk about why, either. You wouldn't even admit it's gotten worse." Bobby countered quietly, things he'd learned over the past two or three days finally dropping into place in the puzzle of Friday morning and creating a much more complete picture for him.
Darien's expression swiftly moved from furious to panicked as he watched Bobby go from confusion to understanding.
"No.... I threw it at the wall.... I know I did! I didn't do that.... I didn't...."
Rising, Darien ran to the same corner he and Cheryl had huddled in together on Wednesday and stood facing into it. After a moment, he slid down into a crouch. When Bobby ran a hand over his face and leaned forward, Cheryl questioned him softly.
"You know something we don't?"
"Wish I didn't. I got the final report on all this yesterday. Some of it just didn't make any sense..... 'till now."
"Like?"
"The fifth location.... it was this little warehouse barely big enough to hold all nine kids that were left. Darien.... he was talkin' to me, answerin' questions.... but I've never in my life seen him so wound up. I thought I was gonna hafta pull one of the other agents off duty an' order him to cart Fawkes home. He started slammin' things with his hands, yellin'.... I told him to calm down or he was outta there. I thought he'd be okay.... then the fireworks started early again. When I looked around, he'd taken off. By the time I found him in the warehouse, two more kids were dead. He was leanin' on the wall holdin' this bloody scrape on his arm. He said it was a bullet graze, but...."
"But what?"
"The forensics report said there was no bullet in the wall behind him... or beside him.... or anywhere near him. An' that's not the worst of it. One of the two we lost was the shooter for that group. The report said he musta killed himself.... but only one round was missin' from his gun.... that was in the boy he shot before we got there...."
"Darien must have.... oh, Bobby, no...."
"I heard a second shot a couple minutes before I found Darien. When he said the kid fired at him an' missed I believed him, no questions, no nothin'.... but I ignored a lot a'stuff that didn't fit. I guess I didn't wanna put it together.... I just wanted it to be done.... I wanted to take Darien home. Four dead kids... it was enough for one day. I didn't wanna see... God, what did I do?"
"It's not your fault, Bobby, not in any way, and it's not his either."
"Yes, it is.... it is... it's mine.... they're all my fault.... mine...."
Darien's tear choked voice drifted out from the corner where he'd hidden his face, prompting the other two onto their feet, rushing to his side and his defense.
"What happened in that warehouse, Darien?" Cheryl asked, gently encouraging him to turn and face out into the room again, urging him to sit on the floor even as she and Bobby dropped into position on either side of him. "Just look in my eyes.... and tell me exactly what happened. You can do this. Be strong..."
"Bobby...."
"I'm right here, kid. It's okay. Just... just say it. I know it ain't your fault, but you gotta say it to make it better. This is the last of it, baby.... just say the words... then we can both let it go...."
"He... he was just... starin' down at the kid he killed.... starin' like... like he didn't know what he was lookin' at.... then he heard me.... he turned... looked at me.... an' smiled. I saw a real little kid in that smile... I saw my kid. Until he said.... he knew how I'd ruined the.... the rest of their plan.... but, he couldn't let me destroy it completely.... it was too important.... he wouldn't let me force them to live in a... a corrupt and destitute world. He p-pointed the gun... a-at me.... What they say? It isn't true. It's a damn lie..."
"What is?" Cheryl responded.
"That your life flashes before your eyes. It's not true. You see your kids..... It wasn't my useless life.... or the mess I made of most of it.... I saw Bobbi's. 'Till right then... I didn't know I had it.... I didn't have a clue until I reached back.... an' pulled out that stupid.... stupid piece of metal. He looked surprised. That's the last thing I remember until Hobbes found me.... the kid actually looked surprised...."
Darien collapsed then, falling sideways and burrowing into Bobby's embrace as the last of his terrible burden slipped off his shoulders. Cheryl patted and rubbed his back constantly, leaving him only long enough to speak to her secretary and cancel the rest of her appointments for the day.
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FORTY MINUTES LATER
"Darien?"
"Yeah? What? I'm here."
"Just checking. You've been quiet for a long time."
"Damn.... Did I screw up your schedule? Hey, I'm really sorry...." he began, sitting up and moving away from Bobby slowly.
"Not in the least. It's perfectly alright. I had a feeling you might need more than the two hours today. I usually only have one other patient after Bobby. She's not an urgent case so I had Arlene cancel it. Think you're ready to come back to the couch?"
"Huh... oh. Oh, yeah." Darien responded sheepishly as Hobbes helped him to his feet. "Just for curiosity's sake...."
"About an hour and a quarter, I'd say. I was tempted to let you just fall asleep right there and tell Bobby to lock up when you were ready to leave. The two of you made an incredibly beautiful picture."
"Sure. You could title it 'The Weeping Wimp In It's Natural Habitat'."
"I'm not even going to dignify that little piece of self-deprecation with a response."
"My bad."
"Indeed. Do you feel like talking for a few more minutes, or are you too exhausted?"
"I'm okay.... I guess. Talk about what?"
"Where you go from here. You accomplished the goal for these five days and you should be very proud of yourself for that. Facing the whole of what happened to you Friday was extremely difficult. It took tremendous strength."
"But?"
"No. No qualifiers. No exceptions. I just have one question. How do you feel?"
"Better. Lighter. Like I cried every tear I had in me. For a while anyway."
"Anything else?"
Darien closed his eyes briefly and took a few minutes to really think about his answer before he spoke again. When he finally responded, his voice was soft, weighted with bone-deep fatigue and tinged with returning sadness.
"I'm not done."
"Is that a question or a statement?"
"Both?"
"Okay." Cheryl chuckled softly. "I can see the logic. Can you tell me why you think you're not done?"
"I... I know what I did.... but, knowing it isn't the same as accepting it.... or forgivin' myself for it. That's gonna take time. Plus, there was other stuff that came out.... stuff that wasn't about Friday. I think, before I marry Bobby.... maybe I should look at some of that a little closer. Get more of a handle on it, ya know?"
"I'm impressed with your insight, Darien. After a day like you've had, most people couldn't put that group of thoughts together, never mind articulate it so clearly. I think it's an excellent idea. Do you want to set a time limit or play it by ear?"
"By ear. That sounds good. That way we both get an equal say in when I'm okay again."
"If you want my opinion, you're pretty okay right now. What you have left to work out won't be a tenth as devastating as today. You've gone through a major trauma, yes, but you survived because you already had a support system in place. All I am is another piece of that system. Bobby will be with you when I can't and between the three of us your life will get back to normal."
"Or at least as normal as my life gets. Thanks...... I know it's lame to just say that, but it's all I can think of."
"Thanks for what?"
Oh, I don't know, maybe for skippin' lunch all week to help me get my head straight?" Darien retorted gently, adding a faint smile. "For sayin' you'll keep helpin' me when I know you're probably full up with patients as it is. Just.... for everything."
"You keep piling on penalties, you'll be throwing passes from the end zone pretty soon. Terrible field position."
"Okay, so you don't have a full schedule...." he laughed.
"Monday and Wednesday are pretty much empty. You can take your pick of which day you want and what time. Just call when you decide. Speaking of which, you two should be heading home. It's past three and I know Darien's eaten little or nothing all day."
"Me either. Not since breakfast anyway. She's right, partner. Your head's had enough work for one day. Let's go make our stomachs pick up some a'the slack."
"Okay. Doc... Thanks again." Darien repeated as he and Bobby grabbed their coats.
"You're welcome."
Once in the SUV and headed home, Darien began, inch by painful inch, to truly relax for the first time in two weeks. At least he was relaxing until Bobby spoke up.
"Damn."
"What?"
"I forgot. There's some paperwork I gotta finish back at the office. It won't take more than a half hour. I can drop you off at the pizza place. You can either take it home an' I'll catch a cab or I can meet you there after I'm done."
"I'll go with you. I can wait a little longer to eat."
"Nah. It's better if I drop you off...."
"Bobby.... why can't I stay with you?"
Unwillingly, Hobbes responded to the pure need wrapped within Darien's simple request.
"Okay, if you don't mind waitin' around."
"I don't. I just... don't feel like bein' by myself right now."
"I know. It's alright. Claire might still be there. Eberts definitely will. You can stick with them 'till I'm done. Okay?"
"Yeah. Okay."
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THE AGENCY: EBERTS' OFFICE
"I ain't got all the time in the world, Eberts. I told him half an hour. Claire can only keep him busy so long. Just gimme the tapes."
"Robert, you don't understand. I can't just...."
"I don't want anything classified. Just the P.M. surveillance. National security's not gonna be compromised by me watchin' him sleep, is it?"
"No, I suppose not, but.... alright. How many do you want to see?"
Two or three is all I got time for right now, but eventually.... as many as you can get me."
"Here." The smaller man replied, unlocking a cabinet and handing Bobby three labeled and cased video tapes. "Since I'm risking jail and my pension on your behalf, you could tell me why you're so interested only in these particular..."
" Not now. Maybe someday..... go help Claire with Darien, okay? Don't let him come lookin' for me, no matter what. Oh, and thanks. Ebes the mighty mouse comes through again." Bobby commented wryly as his friend moved out of the office.
"Don't just leave them out. You can see where they go in the cabinet."
"I see. I'll put 'em all back, I promise. Go, okay?"
Picking up the first tape, Bobby stared at the label for a long moment, then cracked open the case and popped the tape in the waiting VCR. Retrieving the remote, he pushed play and dropped onto a nearby ottoman to watch. In truth, he fast forwarded through most of the footage, as each tape held a week's worth of surveillance.
For half an hour, Bobby watched his partner, the man he had come to love, lying wrapped in a straightjacket, suffering through his early days with the gland, whimpering in pain, often not sleeping at all. When he did sleep, however, it was always in one corner of the room, usually the same corner, and always with a chair or table either very close to or completely covering his shuddering, agony-wracked body.
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TBC......
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"I guess I should...." Bobby began, but he stopped when Darien squeezed his hand. "You sure?"
"I need to be the one to.... There's stuff even you don't know, Bobby. Hell, a couple spots even I'm not sure what really went down. I have to talk it out.... get everything straight."
"Okay. I'm right here if...."
"I know. If I need it I promise I'll ask. This morning, when I.... You understand I didn't.... right?"
"Yeah. I understand."
This exchange brought a brief, snorting laugh from Cheryl.
"What?" Darien questioned her.
"Not that I ever had any doubts you two are genuinely in love, but if I did, that would have erased them. The only people I've ever seen perform that kind of shorthand speech are the ones who've bonded at the deepest possible level."
"Wait... say that again?" Bobby asked.
"In layman's terms? I don't have a clue what those last three sentences meant; therefore, you must be in love. Okay, now that the tension's been broken, back to business. Darien? I think you had just started to talk about the children when..."
".... when I chickened out?"
"I was going to say when it got too hard for you to continue. You are no coward, Darien. I keep hoping you'll see that. Accepting that little piece of truth might open your eyes to a lot of other truths as well."
"Yeah? Like what?"
"Later. For now, back to the story, alright?"
"I know. Five yard penalty for delay of game." he joked, smiling sadly at her.
"Let's call it penalty declined, repeat first down."
Darien's smile widened and Cheryl could see a question about her football knowledge forming on his lips. She quickly shot it down. "I'll make you a deal. If there's any time left today, and if any of us have the energy, *then* we can talk about the Chargers. Okay?"
"Okay. I really have to do this don't I?" he acknowledged, sobering abruptly.
"You don't have to, no. My motto is 'Option not obligation.' The only thing you have to do is make a choice."
Darien gazed solemnly at Cheryl, then at Bobby. Finally he pulled his legs onto the couch, wrapped his arms around them and dropped his chin onto his knees.
"I know, I know. Shielding. Just this once..."
"Go ahead, if it'll help. I never meant to imply that the instinct to protect yourself is wrong or is something I disapprove of. I just wanted to be sure you were aware you were doing it. You will reach a point where the instinct won't rule your life anymore."
"From your mouth to.... Anyway, you said the last thing I told you was about the kids, right?"
"Right. There were fifty children?"
"Close. Forty-nine. The only way we found out what was goin' down was that one of the kids escaped an' managed to get to us. He didn't know a whole lot, just the basics. We kinda hoped they'd all be in one place. The first location we hit on Thursday mornin' was big enough for it, but... no such luck. The bastards weren't gonna make it that easy. They split em up pretty much evenly.... but that meant we had five buildings to get to.... in forty-eight hours. After I found the first ten kids, I told Bobby what floor they were on, kept 'em in sight 'till he got there. This little boy.... I swear, he wasn't much more than a baby.... six, seven years old.... he was just standin' there in the middle of a circle of kids.... starin' off into the distance.... with a gun in his hand."
At this point Darien looked to Bobby for the portion of the story that had occurred while he was gone.
"Is it okay, doc? I mean... it's only 'cause I sent him back down to set somethin' up for me...."
"It's alright. Go ahead, Bobby."
"Okay. See, I figured the only way to get the kids and all our guys out safe was usin' tear gas as a distraction, but.... it needed a few minutes before it'd be ready an'... somebody had to get the shooter's attention so he wouldn't catch on. I wasn't about to put Darien in the line a'fire, so..."
"So he decides, all by himself, that he makes a better target an' sends me off on some stupid errand that he coulda set up just as easily over the radio...."
"The kid had a handgun! There wasn't time to discuss it in committee!"
"I am not a committee, I'm your fiancée!"
"Gentlemen."
The one word was all that was necessary.
"Sorry, doc." Bobby offered sheepishly.
"It's alright. We'll come back to Bobby's motivations later. Darien?"
"Oh, yeah. The story.... The tear gas stunt worked better than we hoped it would. Bobby got the gun, the backup teams came an' took the kids out..... shipped 'em off to be deprogrammed. The office got us the next two locations an' we pulled the same trick. It just kept workin'.... We saved thirty kids before it got too dark an' we got too damn tired to keep goin'. I shoulda known...."
"Known what?"
"My life... it's been nasty sometimes, but... it did teach me one thing. When the leaves start fallin', watch out for the tree branch that's right behind 'em. I let myself think we could actually do it.... we could save the rest of the kids the same way. I got arrogant.... that made me forget.... I didn't pay attention....."
Suddenly Darien began rocking back and forth, eyes twisted shut, expression sheer pain. "Crap. Bobby.... I can't....."
"You can. You're so close. Don't give up now...."
"I'm not. I just need.... please."
"Gimme your hands. I'm gonna help, babe, but ya gotta let go a'your knees.... good. Shut out everything else, okay? Hear me.... listen to my voice. I'm right here. It's all gonna be okay. You're so amazin' to me, you know that? You can do anything.... walk through anything. I believe in you.... an' I'm not goin away. Not ever. Just stay strong...." He soothed, shifting closer in order to be in easy reach. Slowly, he moved through the familiar facial touch routine Darien had come to depend on for relief in times of high stress, but when the first cycle was finished, instead of returning to the beginning, Bobby switched to an addition the two had developed during a yoga session some weeks back.
Gently, starting at Darien's shoulders, Bobby glided his hands down his fiancée's arms over and over, repeating the movement until he felt the taut- steel-wire tension begin to flow out of the other man. At that point, Hobbes provided Darien a minute or two of firm hand massage, easing potential cramps out of the fingers, and let him go. Darien, his eyes always on Bobby, chose not to return to his usual protective position.
In stunned silence, Cheryl watched the couple interact and had to suppress a faint flare of emotion she refused to admit was anything even related to jealousy. It was obvious to her now that their bond went deeper than she could ever have guessed. Shaking herself mentally, she quickly jotted some notes about what she'd just observed and a reminder to have Bobby teach her the technique he'd used.
"Sorry again, Doc, but.... he needed me."
"I noticed. Quite a powerful demonstration."
"Nah. It's just somethin' I do. It helps."
"I see that too. Ready to go on, Darien?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I guess so."
"Okay. You'd just finished telling me about Thursday...."
"Bobby had to make me go home that night. If it were up to me... I woulda stayed out till I found 'em all, even if it took everything I had left. I wanted.... needed to find every one of those kids an' be sure they were safe. As it was I slept maybe an hour between the time we crawled into bed an' the phone call at four-thirty in the mornin'. We got dressed, ate somethin'... Hobbes ate, anyway. I couldn't. By five thirty we were on the road.... but we didn't get outta the house exactly when we wanted to. When I wanted to. The truck keys did a vanishin' act, we had to spend time searchin'...."
Bobby's fingers entwined with Darien's and tightened, lending him strength to push on through the most difficult portion of the tale. Darien thanked the other man with his eyes, drew and expelled a steadying breath and continued. "I kept tellin' Hobbes somethin' was wrong. I could just... feel it. It wasn't like before. My heart was goin' crazy, I couldn't breathe right. I just kept sayin'.... drive faster. Damn it, drive faster.... By the time we pulled up it was.... quarter past six? The teams started settin' up around this old house.... they started, but.... there was... a gunshot.... an' they all just.... stood there... in shock. I ran in the front door.... there was a.... a little girl this time. A girl! I mean.... she was like.... nine years old.... an' there she was, a kid already on the floor, an' she's starin' at a boy no older than her.... drawin' down on him like he was a paper target! She fired so fast.... before I could get to her an'.... it was like the whole world.... twisted on me. I grabbed her before she could pull the trigger again.... I ripped it out of her hand, threw it against a wall.... I think. That.... that was when everybody else came roarin' in behind me.... at least that's what Bobby says."
"You don't remember?"
"No. Like I said... the world sorta... twisted. All I could see.... all I could think about was this other girl.... the one who was shot first. Thing is, it wasn't.... I wasn't seein' what was really there...."
"Who were you seeing?" Cheryl asked gently, though she believed she already knew the answer. When Darien began to sob quietly and turned to Bobby again, it confirmed her suspicion.
"I... picked up this.... beautiful little girl.... God himself couldn't have convinced me it wasn't my baby I was holdin'.... I thought it was my little Bobbi.... an' I knew if it took every ounce of strength I had left.... I was gonna save her.... I sat there on the floor rockin' her.... givin' her mouth to mouth.... Hobbes, I'm so sorry. You couldn't know.... I didn't have a way to tell you what was goin' on in my head... so when you made me give up the body.... tried to make me understand she was gone..... "
"God... so that's why you've been so afraid to touch her..."
"Maybe.... probably. If I hold her.... it'll come true. I'm so scared it'll all turn out to be true...."
When the couple embraced again, both crying this time, Cheryl gave them several minutes of comfort and connection before she interrupted.
"Darien. I'm so sorry you had to go through that. The death of a child, even if they aren't yours, is one of the most devastating things anyone can witness. Anyone facing something so awful, who already had a young child at home...."
"No. Not everybody woulda let the cheese slip off their cracker. That was all me. I know that now."
"New penalty. Ten yards for jumping to conclusions. You had an extreme reaction to a traumatic situation. There's nothing unusual in that and it doesn't mean you went crazy, even temporarily."
"I know, I know. It's that type thing you were talkin' about, but how come I have to be the type I am? Why can't I just.... shake it off like Bobby does?"
"Have you looked at him in the past few minutes? Really looked at him? He's grieving too, Darien. It's not over what you went both went through, I admit. He's moved past that. His pain is for *your* pain. Even the waterproof, let-it-roll-off-my-back types suffer. They just transfer the pain to something else, some other problem or crisis, and use it as motivation to help others. That doesn't make Bobby's sorrow any less legitimate."
"That only answered part of my question."
"We are who we are, I'm afraid. All you can do about your type is learn to manage your reactions in tough, painful situations. For you that means talking. Lots and lots of talking. It's sort of like being in a boat with a slow leak. If you bail on a regular basis, you'll stay afloat indefinitely, but the longer you let the water rise, the more effort you have to put into getting back to status quo."
"I've let it go for a long time, huh?"
"Almost too long. Remember the phrase I used earlier, saturation point? You'd taken on as much water as you possibly could by Friday. When the children died it was just one drop too much."
"I was drowning?"
"Precisely. Let's back up for a minute to your description of the events at the fourth location. I'd like you to clarify something for me if you can."
"Sure. I'll do my best."
"Tell me again about the gun. What did you do with it?"
"Like I said, I tore it out of her hand.... an' I threw it away."
"Last time you added the words 'I think.' Try again. Close your eyes. See yourself entering the house...."
"Okay. Can we not do this? This is one of those moments I'm not really.... clear on."
"Then we need to fix that. For your own peace of mind, you need to understand everything that happened that day, Darien. Close your eyes."
"Look, you don't understand.... I hate guns. I won't carry one, touch one, I won't even look at one. I don't have any real reason to question what I did that morning."
"You were questioning it a few minutes ago."
"No I wasn't. I... I was so lost.... while I was sittin' there.... I was in my own personal "Twilight Zone", ya know? I told you, I don't remember anything except that... beautiful girl.... with an ugly hole in her chest.... an' blood all over her shirt...."
Sensing Darien preparing to set the possibly false memory in cement, Cheryl turned to Bobby instead, hoping he could either confirm or refute Darien's account.
"Bobby. Let's do an FBF on this from your point of view, okay?"
"Doc...."
"It's important. If he's right, I'll let it go."
"Hold it." Darien interjected. "What's FBF?"
"It means Frame By Frame." Bobby explained. "You go back over somethin' you think you remember like you're lookin' at a movie on a VCR in super slow- mo. You pull every detail you can outta one picture, then you go to the next."
"You don't trust me? You don't believe I'm tellin' the truth?"
"I think there may be a truth here that you aren't ready to face. Bobby?"
Hobbes closed his eyes and breathed deeply.
"You want me to start with the first look I got at Fawkes an' the room?"
"That should do fine. Absorb every detail, remember. Don't just rely on how well you know Darien. Study him, the other children, the walls, the windows...."
"The kids.... they haven't moved. They're still in the circle.... waitin'. The room is just a run-down room in a fallin' down house. Peelin' wallpaper, filthy windows. Can't hardly see out. Darien..... he's got his back to me. His legs are tucked up under him, like he went to his knees before he sat down. Funny how his legs look even longer that way. I can see he's holdin' a kid on his lap, but not whether it's a boy or a girl. He's bent way over the kid. His shirt's come untucked, but that's nothin' new.... ahhhhh crap. Damn it, kid...."
"What is it, Bobby?" Cheryl encouraged.
"There's a gun in his waistband... at the back. He musta had to pull his shirt out when he shoved it in there. His shirt's always messy.... that's why it didn't register... besides I was lookin' at the girl, tryin' to get through to my partner...."
"That's a damn lie an' you know it! I only touched it long enough to get rid of it!"
Bobby turned and stared at Darien.
"You think I don't know what it looks like? You think after all my years with the feds that *I* don't know what it looks like when somebody's tryin' to hide a gun? I taught *you* what to look for!"
"I wouldn't do that! I make you put yours away at home, don't I? I do that so I don't have to look at it!"
"Yeah, but the last week or so, you've been nuts about it. You barely let me get in the house an' the gun has to go. You wouldn't talk about why, either. You wouldn't even admit it's gotten worse." Bobby countered quietly, things he'd learned over the past two or three days finally dropping into place in the puzzle of Friday morning and creating a much more complete picture for him.
Darien's expression swiftly moved from furious to panicked as he watched Bobby go from confusion to understanding.
"No.... I threw it at the wall.... I know I did! I didn't do that.... I didn't...."
Rising, Darien ran to the same corner he and Cheryl had huddled in together on Wednesday and stood facing into it. After a moment, he slid down into a crouch. When Bobby ran a hand over his face and leaned forward, Cheryl questioned him softly.
"You know something we don't?"
"Wish I didn't. I got the final report on all this yesterday. Some of it just didn't make any sense..... 'till now."
"Like?"
"The fifth location.... it was this little warehouse barely big enough to hold all nine kids that were left. Darien.... he was talkin' to me, answerin' questions.... but I've never in my life seen him so wound up. I thought I was gonna hafta pull one of the other agents off duty an' order him to cart Fawkes home. He started slammin' things with his hands, yellin'.... I told him to calm down or he was outta there. I thought he'd be okay.... then the fireworks started early again. When I looked around, he'd taken off. By the time I found him in the warehouse, two more kids were dead. He was leanin' on the wall holdin' this bloody scrape on his arm. He said it was a bullet graze, but...."
"But what?"
"The forensics report said there was no bullet in the wall behind him... or beside him.... or anywhere near him. An' that's not the worst of it. One of the two we lost was the shooter for that group. The report said he musta killed himself.... but only one round was missin' from his gun.... that was in the boy he shot before we got there...."
"Darien must have.... oh, Bobby, no...."
"I heard a second shot a couple minutes before I found Darien. When he said the kid fired at him an' missed I believed him, no questions, no nothin'.... but I ignored a lot a'stuff that didn't fit. I guess I didn't wanna put it together.... I just wanted it to be done.... I wanted to take Darien home. Four dead kids... it was enough for one day. I didn't wanna see... God, what did I do?"
"It's not your fault, Bobby, not in any way, and it's not his either."
"Yes, it is.... it is... it's mine.... they're all my fault.... mine...."
Darien's tear choked voice drifted out from the corner where he'd hidden his face, prompting the other two onto their feet, rushing to his side and his defense.
"What happened in that warehouse, Darien?" Cheryl asked, gently encouraging him to turn and face out into the room again, urging him to sit on the floor even as she and Bobby dropped into position on either side of him. "Just look in my eyes.... and tell me exactly what happened. You can do this. Be strong..."
"Bobby...."
"I'm right here, kid. It's okay. Just... just say it. I know it ain't your fault, but you gotta say it to make it better. This is the last of it, baby.... just say the words... then we can both let it go...."
"He... he was just... starin' down at the kid he killed.... starin' like... like he didn't know what he was lookin' at.... then he heard me.... he turned... looked at me.... an' smiled. I saw a real little kid in that smile... I saw my kid. Until he said.... he knew how I'd ruined the.... the rest of their plan.... but, he couldn't let me destroy it completely.... it was too important.... he wouldn't let me force them to live in a... a corrupt and destitute world. He p-pointed the gun... a-at me.... What they say? It isn't true. It's a damn lie..."
"What is?" Cheryl responded.
"That your life flashes before your eyes. It's not true. You see your kids..... It wasn't my useless life.... or the mess I made of most of it.... I saw Bobbi's. 'Till right then... I didn't know I had it.... I didn't have a clue until I reached back.... an' pulled out that stupid.... stupid piece of metal. He looked surprised. That's the last thing I remember until Hobbes found me.... the kid actually looked surprised...."
Darien collapsed then, falling sideways and burrowing into Bobby's embrace as the last of his terrible burden slipped off his shoulders. Cheryl patted and rubbed his back constantly, leaving him only long enough to speak to her secretary and cancel the rest of her appointments for the day.
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FORTY MINUTES LATER
"Darien?"
"Yeah? What? I'm here."
"Just checking. You've been quiet for a long time."
"Damn.... Did I screw up your schedule? Hey, I'm really sorry...." he began, sitting up and moving away from Bobby slowly.
"Not in the least. It's perfectly alright. I had a feeling you might need more than the two hours today. I usually only have one other patient after Bobby. She's not an urgent case so I had Arlene cancel it. Think you're ready to come back to the couch?"
"Huh... oh. Oh, yeah." Darien responded sheepishly as Hobbes helped him to his feet. "Just for curiosity's sake...."
"About an hour and a quarter, I'd say. I was tempted to let you just fall asleep right there and tell Bobby to lock up when you were ready to leave. The two of you made an incredibly beautiful picture."
"Sure. You could title it 'The Weeping Wimp In It's Natural Habitat'."
"I'm not even going to dignify that little piece of self-deprecation with a response."
"My bad."
"Indeed. Do you feel like talking for a few more minutes, or are you too exhausted?"
"I'm okay.... I guess. Talk about what?"
"Where you go from here. You accomplished the goal for these five days and you should be very proud of yourself for that. Facing the whole of what happened to you Friday was extremely difficult. It took tremendous strength."
"But?"
"No. No qualifiers. No exceptions. I just have one question. How do you feel?"
"Better. Lighter. Like I cried every tear I had in me. For a while anyway."
"Anything else?"
Darien closed his eyes briefly and took a few minutes to really think about his answer before he spoke again. When he finally responded, his voice was soft, weighted with bone-deep fatigue and tinged with returning sadness.
"I'm not done."
"Is that a question or a statement?"
"Both?"
"Okay." Cheryl chuckled softly. "I can see the logic. Can you tell me why you think you're not done?"
"I... I know what I did.... but, knowing it isn't the same as accepting it.... or forgivin' myself for it. That's gonna take time. Plus, there was other stuff that came out.... stuff that wasn't about Friday. I think, before I marry Bobby.... maybe I should look at some of that a little closer. Get more of a handle on it, ya know?"
"I'm impressed with your insight, Darien. After a day like you've had, most people couldn't put that group of thoughts together, never mind articulate it so clearly. I think it's an excellent idea. Do you want to set a time limit or play it by ear?"
"By ear. That sounds good. That way we both get an equal say in when I'm okay again."
"If you want my opinion, you're pretty okay right now. What you have left to work out won't be a tenth as devastating as today. You've gone through a major trauma, yes, but you survived because you already had a support system in place. All I am is another piece of that system. Bobby will be with you when I can't and between the three of us your life will get back to normal."
"Or at least as normal as my life gets. Thanks...... I know it's lame to just say that, but it's all I can think of."
"Thanks for what?"
Oh, I don't know, maybe for skippin' lunch all week to help me get my head straight?" Darien retorted gently, adding a faint smile. "For sayin' you'll keep helpin' me when I know you're probably full up with patients as it is. Just.... for everything."
"You keep piling on penalties, you'll be throwing passes from the end zone pretty soon. Terrible field position."
"Okay, so you don't have a full schedule...." he laughed.
"Monday and Wednesday are pretty much empty. You can take your pick of which day you want and what time. Just call when you decide. Speaking of which, you two should be heading home. It's past three and I know Darien's eaten little or nothing all day."
"Me either. Not since breakfast anyway. She's right, partner. Your head's had enough work for one day. Let's go make our stomachs pick up some a'the slack."
"Okay. Doc... Thanks again." Darien repeated as he and Bobby grabbed their coats.
"You're welcome."
Once in the SUV and headed home, Darien began, inch by painful inch, to truly relax for the first time in two weeks. At least he was relaxing until Bobby spoke up.
"Damn."
"What?"
"I forgot. There's some paperwork I gotta finish back at the office. It won't take more than a half hour. I can drop you off at the pizza place. You can either take it home an' I'll catch a cab or I can meet you there after I'm done."
"I'll go with you. I can wait a little longer to eat."
"Nah. It's better if I drop you off...."
"Bobby.... why can't I stay with you?"
Unwillingly, Hobbes responded to the pure need wrapped within Darien's simple request.
"Okay, if you don't mind waitin' around."
"I don't. I just... don't feel like bein' by myself right now."
"I know. It's alright. Claire might still be there. Eberts definitely will. You can stick with them 'till I'm done. Okay?"
"Yeah. Okay."
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THE AGENCY: EBERTS' OFFICE
"I ain't got all the time in the world, Eberts. I told him half an hour. Claire can only keep him busy so long. Just gimme the tapes."
"Robert, you don't understand. I can't just...."
"I don't want anything classified. Just the P.M. surveillance. National security's not gonna be compromised by me watchin' him sleep, is it?"
"No, I suppose not, but.... alright. How many do you want to see?"
Two or three is all I got time for right now, but eventually.... as many as you can get me."
"Here." The smaller man replied, unlocking a cabinet and handing Bobby three labeled and cased video tapes. "Since I'm risking jail and my pension on your behalf, you could tell me why you're so interested only in these particular..."
" Not now. Maybe someday..... go help Claire with Darien, okay? Don't let him come lookin' for me, no matter what. Oh, and thanks. Ebes the mighty mouse comes through again." Bobby commented wryly as his friend moved out of the office.
"Don't just leave them out. You can see where they go in the cabinet."
"I see. I'll put 'em all back, I promise. Go, okay?"
Picking up the first tape, Bobby stared at the label for a long moment, then cracked open the case and popped the tape in the waiting VCR. Retrieving the remote, he pushed play and dropped onto a nearby ottoman to watch. In truth, he fast forwarded through most of the footage, as each tape held a week's worth of surveillance.
For half an hour, Bobby watched his partner, the man he had come to love, lying wrapped in a straightjacket, suffering through his early days with the gland, whimpering in pain, often not sleeping at all. When he did sleep, however, it was always in one corner of the room, usually the same corner, and always with a chair or table either very close to or completely covering his shuddering, agony-wracked body.
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TBC......