The Official waltzed into the Keep. Darien looked up, expression unreadable as Claire withdrew the syringe from his elbow, and he curled his arm habitually around the cotton ball.
"Well, look who's here," Claire said brightly, moving around the chair to dispose of the syringe. Darien stayed put, eyes following the Official, who took in both Darien's and the Keeper's disheveled appearances with narrowed eyes.
"What happened to you?" The Official cast another glance around the Keep, eyes finally finding the gurney with Hobbes on it. His expression darkened. "And what's with Sleeping Beauty?"
"Well, Bobby and Darien talked me into getting a bite before dropping me off at the convention center. We were in the middle of eating when the earthquake hit. We all got a bit banged up, I'm afraid, and Bobby was rather rattled. But we got him back here and I managed to sedate him a bit; he'll be fine."
"Ah. Well then." The Official looked around the Keep. "Things seem to have pulled through rather well around here. Good. Well. Claire, have Darien and Bobby report to Eberts when they're both ready." With that, the Official turned around and left.
Claire turned back to Darien. "Feeling okay?"
"Yeah, I think so. I must have gotten clobbered on the noggin though- my whole head hurts." He rubbed at the bridge of his nose, trying to massage away the pain.
"Me too." Claire absently kneaded her shoulder. "Oh well. Off you go. I'll let Bobby wake up on his own and send him home for at least a days' rest- doctor's orders. So- enjoy your day off."
"Thanks Keep." Darien slid out of the chair and padded toward the door. As it slid open, he unbent his elbow to toss the cotton ball in the trash like he always did.
The ball came away from his arm clean, and Darien frowned and turned it over, looking for the bright spot of blood that was always there and finding nothing. He prodded his inner elbow, examining it closely. No sore spot, no tiny bead of blood welling up. Frowning, he turned his wrist over and blinked at the all-green tattoo.
"Darien?" He looked up, Claire's questioning eyes meeting his from the other side of the Keep. "Is something wrong?"
"No," he replied quickly, dropping the cotton ball into the basket and shoving his hands into his pockets. "Nothing. See ya later, Keep."
Darien stepped into the hallway and the door swooshed shut behind him. Humming to himself he sauntered down the gleaming linoleum, right past a shadow watching him with mirrored eyes, and after he rounded the corner the shadow stepped out into the hall. Jamie pulled a pair of sunglasses over his metallic irises and paused briefly, turning to the key-carded door of the Keep and placing a spread-fingered hand on the steel plates. Closing his eyes, he dropped his head for a moment. Then regretfully he pulled his fingers back, shoved his hands into his pockets, and followed Darien's path down the corridor and around the corner.
Inside the Keep Claire paused in her work and looked up with a frown. She pushed her hair back and stood up, computer and work forgotten, and stepped toward the door. It slid open and she leaned into the hallway, hands gripping the doorjamb, peering into the shadows and seeing nothing but empty corridor.
Shaking her head at herself she turned and went back inside, the door to the Keep sliding shut silently behind her.