Darien was tired. He'd been tired for almost three years now. Tired of listening to his partner complain about their mission. Tired of the doubts that were starting to creep into his thoughts. Tired of missing the woman he loved. And he was tired of searching every Podunk, backwater, small town in the middle of the desert for her.
He rubbed his face hard and leaned his head back against the headrest of his seat. Hobbes was getting coffee from the truck stop they were parked at. Darien felt like he knew all the truck stops along this route better than some of the long haul truckers that came through on a regular basis.
God, if he could just see her again. Know that she was all right. That Cobalt didn't have her and that the Fat Man never found her. Then he'd be okay. If she didn't want to go back with him, he'd still be okay.
At least, that's what he kept telling himself.
Hobbes watched his partner while he waited in line to pay. He was worried about him. Darien was pushing himself too hard. Had been since she left. Hobbes understood why she had to go. There were two major organizations beating down her door, neither one an attractive prospect at that time. Who knew that one of them was run by their own boss?
That's what was the final straw for her. She went to the Fat Man for help, and instead he tries to kidnap her. Thank god Claire had been there. No one else could have gotten her out safely. What no one expected was that she would run.
He put his money on the counter and waited for the change. Pocketing it, he nodded thanks to the girl behind the counter and took the coffee out to Darien .
"Hey, buddy," he said gently when he climbed into the van. Hobbes did everything gently now. Darien was far too fragile for Hobbes' normal attitude. Claire had warned him before they set off on this search the last time.
"I don't know how much longer Darien 's going to be able to handle this level of stress," she said one night when they were tangled up with each other. Her head was resting on his chest, her soft, blonde hair spread out over his shoulder.
"What d'you mean?"
She turned her head so she was looking up at him. "Even though the gland is fixed, stress still produces Quicksilver. It could be building up so slowly that he doesn't even realize it. I'm afraid he'll go Stage 5 with no warning at all."
Hobbes looked worried. "What should we do? He's not going to stop looking for her."
"I've been working on a shelf-stable Stage 5 counteragent and I think it's ready. You can leave it in the van, just in case. It's good for six months." She rolled onto her stomach. "Go easy on him. This has been so hard on him."
He reached out and cupped her cheek in his hand. "I will."
Hobbes shook his head, as if the movement would get rid of the memory. Darien was staring at him with a strange look on his face. "What?"
"You've been staring into space. You okay?"
Hobbes handed him one of the coffees. "Yeah, sorry. I was just thinking…" He trailed off.
"About Claire," Darien finished for him. "It's okay, Hobbes. You can think about her."
"I know." Hobbes started the van and pulled out of the parking spot. "I just don't like rubbing it in, y'know?"
"We're going to find her, Hobbes. So think about Claire all you want. I'm fine."