"Jamie." Claire's voice was quiet. "Jamie, I want to check on Bobby."

"Not now."

"I need to see how he's doing, assess his injuries…"

"I said NOT NOW Claire." There was a pause during which Darien could only hear breathing, although whose- his own or Claire's, Jamie's or Bobby's- he couldn't determine. Claire chewed on her lip, a hint of rebellion creeping into her eyes, but it died quickly and she settled sullenly back into the seat.

As Darien drove, Jamie could sense the panic and frustration in him. He smiled to himself and gave Darien credit for keeping his cool and not tearing through the streets like a maniac. Claire was angry too, and it was that which gave Jamie pause. He wished there were another way.

Sighing, he turned his attentions back to Hobbes, sinking his consciousness deeper and deeper into the agent's own psyche. In his current state, Bobby had no barriers, and Jamie could see his life laid out in front of him like a map. A great deal of pain, confusion, and paranoia was strewn about at various points, but there were a few bright spots of hope and affection as well. Jamie was not surprised to find that the brightest hovered around thoughts of Darien, whom Bobby seemed to regard as a kid brother, and Claire. Throat constricting, he delved deeper, submersing himself in the most basic of Bobby's functions- heart beating, lungs breathing, blood flowing… He traveled through the bloodstream finding the vessels and organs that had been damaged, repairing them gently with the most delicate of thoughts. Slowly, despite the bumping over intersections and sliding around corners, Bobby began to stabilize.

Jamie drew out back into himself, tired beyond anything he'd ever felt before. He let out a breath and opened his eyes with effort, knowing that Claire was looking at him, and that he owed her the basic courtesy of eye contact. She met his eyes with a slightly perturbed yet concerned gaze, then dropped her eyes to Hobbes.

Bobby's head was in Jamie's lap, a position the agent would no doubt find discomfiting if he were conscious. His breathing was steady and deep, and Claire mentally calculated the rate and found it well within normal. Jamie returned her direct gaze evenly, his eerie mirrored irises emanating reassurance.

"He'll be fine," he said softly. Claire didn't move, and with another deep sigh Jamie closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the cool metal side of the van. Of it's own accord his mind emptied, nothing existing except the sway of the floor and the hum of the tires.

Darien thought of using the back entrance on his own, which was good; Jamie wasn't sure he had enough left to even provide the slightest of pushes at the moment. He roused himself enough to open the door and carry Hobbes down to the Keep, Claire leading the way and Darien following anxiously.

Jamie settled Bobby onto the gurney and sank out of the way as Claire busied herself checking Hobbes' injuries. Darien barely noticed Jamie sinking into the chair the Keeper used to give him his shots, one arm covering his eyes, breaths coming slow and deep.

Claire took Bobby's pulse, checked his lungs, got a blood pressure reading, all the while the frown on her face deepening. Darien stepped back as she flew around the gurney frantically. "What? What is it? Claire?" After a moment of further frenetic activity, she practically threw down her stethoscope and spun to face Jamie accusingly. Darien looked from Bobby lying quietly on the gurney, to Claire glaring furiously at Jamie, to Jamie sitting silently on the exam chair with his forearm shielding his eyes. Darien tried one more time. "Keep? Is he okay? Is… is Hobbes okay?"

"He's FINE," she ground out. "As far as I can tell he has no apparent injuries, no abnormalities in his vital signs anywhere." She stepped toward Jamie. "He's just… sleeping."

"But how… I mean, I was there, I saw him go down, I saw how he looked and he went into shock and…" Darien's voice trailed off. "…and I went QSM and then…"

"I absorbed it," came Jamie's voice from under his arm. "I absorbed the quicksilver in your blood and it… changed me." His arm fell away and his silver eyes shone at Darien and Claire. "I'd never been able to do any of that before- move things, start fires, KILL people. And now I can." He looked unblinkingly at Darien. "I'm not sure whether to thank you or curse you for it. All I know is… it's horrible, that madness."

"Tell me about it," Darien muttered.

"And I wish I could help you remove it."

Darien's head snapped up. "You could do that? Help me? I mean, get this gland out of my head?"

Jamie's metallic eyes glinted. "I could. But I won't."

Darien flew across the room and grabbed Jamie by the shirt. "Son of a BITCH!" His fist flew of it's own accord and found Jamie's cheek with a resounding CRACK. Jamie didn't move, didn't stop Darien's strike, just sat and took it, and when it was over and Darien was left gasping in fury Jamie simply turned his head and regarded him with those eerie mirrored eyes.

"You have every right," he said softly. "I can't blame you your anger. But you have to listen to me while I explain."

"I don't WANT an explanation, I want this damn thing out of my head!" Darien roared, releasing Jamie and stalking to the other side of the Keep. Jamie's eyes followed him and he began speaking.

"Darien." Jamie's voice was soft. "I can't. Think about it. If Chrysalis ever found out the madness could be controlled without counteragent… if they found out how the quicksilver affected my talents… That I could take out the gland, replicate it, put in someone else without using a scalpel…" His voice trailed off and Darien raised his head to look at Jamie with anguished eyes.

Claire's mouth dropped open, her eyes lighting up with hope. "You could do that?"

Jamie didn't look at her, kept his eyes trained on Darien. He knew that if he met her eyes his resolve would crumble. "That's why I had to kill them, Darien. No one can know. And you I'm right."

"Crap." He knew that Jamie was right- and it killed him.

Jamie sighed deeply and ran his hand through his hair, still refusing to meet Claire's gaze. "I deeply regret what I have to do now more than anything."

Claire frowned again, this time in confusion, and Darien began to creep back across the room as the meaning of Jamie's words slowly penetrated his frustration. "What do you mean, what you have to do now? What else do you have to do?"

Jamie got up from the chair, stepped forward, and placed his hand on Claire's arm. "I'm so sorry, Claire. I wish you could retain some memory of what happened, of what I was, but it's far too dangerous for all of us." He leaned forward and kissed her gently on the forehead, then stepped back and drew a deep breath, his silver eyes going dark and unfocused as Darien launched himself at Jamie in a desperate lunge.

"NO!"