The sun had gone down hours before. The debriefing, short as it was, had been a test of endurance for him. His answers minimal at best and little more than grunts at the worst. The Official had finally allowed them to leave once Drake had found the malware that had been loaded onto the GPS, which had sent them down that route that had led to… to…
He sidestepped that train of thought quickly. Not yet ready to face that truth in detail. He might never be able to.
No all he wanted to do right now was find the nearest dive bar and drown in it. Full on drunk with a violent and bloody fist fight on the side. Though he felt uncertain if bruises, if broken bones could drive the deep seated numbness that had invaded his soul away. Even the tiniest bit.
So he wondered how he had allowed Alyx to drag him out of the Agency and drive him home. Okay, so maybe he wasn't in the best state of mind and admittedly probably should not be driving, but it should be Bobby or Claire, or even Drake; not her.
She had failed. His dad was… He did that mental sidestep again. His dad would not be at the house. Would not be joining them for Thanksgiving. Would not be there for the first family Christmas in ages.
He would not be anywhere, but on a cold slab at Leavitt.
And that image proved to be too much for him and he whimpered out loud, the loss crashing upon him like a collapsing building during a massive quake. He wanted to crumple under the weight that pressed upon him from every direction, but he refused to allow it to break him. Not here, not now.
The car stopped and she encouraged him out of the vehicle and to come with her. He did, but more out of lack of anything better to do. Until he had the opportunity to get away from her he might as well trail along. Thankfully she'd barely spoken to him since she'd pulled him off Jarod.
Darien might very well say something irrevocable.
And right now part of him really wanted to say something irrevocable.
The sound of her apartment door sliding open, distinctive as it was, brought him back around to the here and now.
"Why are we here?" he growled as he followed her into the oversized studio, the anger stronger than the confusion of being at the place she'd left behind to be with him.
She didn't say a word, just stepped further into the apartment leaving him to follow or not as he would see fit.
He glared at her back, part of him wanting to grab her, spin her about and demand to know why they were here. Why she had brought him to her, as far as he knew, former home, which should be barren, but instead currently had minimal furnishings suggesting that someone had been staying here for some time.
"What the…."
Two people stepped out of the kitchen; Jarod and - "Dad," Darien choked on the single word and rushed forward to embrace his father in a bone crushing hug. Tears he could in no way prevent squeezing past his tightly closed eyes to run down his cheeks.
His dad returned the hug, though not with quite the same level of enthusiasm.
"Darien, what's wrong?" Mason asked.
Darien stepped back, wiping the tears from his face. "What's wrong?" he echoed in utter confusion. "I watched you die."
Mason looked over at Alyx, who still stood next to the door, plainly unwilling to join in on the impromptu reunion,
Darien turned about to look at her. "Why didn't you tell me?" he snarled. "Why didn't you tell me you'd changed the plan, that it was all a fake out?"
She had the perfect blank look on her face and she simply shook her head. One of those masks she used to wear all the time firmly in place revealing nothing from within. He felt an instant to shock when he realized it had been there all along. Ever since the fatal blow had been delivered by Jarod.
Darien turned on Jarod next. "You were there, so you knew. You fired the kill shot. Hell, you took fucking pictures of it and you couldn't bother to let me in on the plan?"
Jarod looked to Alyx for a response and yet she still remained stubbornly silent, plainly not about to break character now. Fuck. How long had she been playing him? Weeks? Months maybe?
Darien stalked towards her. "Why didn't you tell me, huh? You think I suck that badly? That I couldn't play the part? That I wouldn't do whatever was necessary to make this work?"
She lifted her chin to look him in the eyes and spoke for the first time since arriving, "No. Your skills were never in question."
"Then why?" he asked at a harsh, hurt whisper. She had to have known how much damage losing his father would do to him and yet she had allowed him to think the man had died right before his eyes. Even now the pain churned in his gut, to be swiftly replaced by anger. Her lies, her keeping secrets from him once again. Secrets that she knew would damage him and yet she'd done it without a second thought.
She looked up at him wide-eyed and mournful. That mask crumbling before his eyes. "I… I can't." She stepped away from him. "I won't" Then she turned and left, the door sliding open and closed without being touched.
"Fuck," Darien swore, part of him wanting to go after her, but the majority thrilled she had left so he no longer had to look at her and know that she had been the one to cause him so much pain. He paced over to the windows staring out at the star-strewn sky for several minutes before turning to the pair of men who had not moved from their positions near the kitchen, as if realizing he needed a few minutes to cool down and process.
Eventually he said, "Why?"
"Why what?" Mason asked, sounding concerned.
"Why won't she tell me?" he asked plaintively. Yeah, he was pissed, but all he really wanted was to understand why she hadn't trusted him with the revised plan.
"Because she's afraid it'll change things and get your father killed anyway," Jarod answered. He moved into the kitchen, opened the fridge and pulled out three beers. He gave one to Mason, set on one the counter clearly for himself and walked across the room to offer the third to Darien, who took it after a moment.
He opened it and took a long swallow, wishing it were something stronger. "Change what?" he finally asked, wanting nothing more than to understand why she had chosen to create this rift between them.
"Change what she saw," Jarod explained, leaning back against the high counter, while his father settled into one of the chairs, open beer in hand.
Darien rubbed his forehead with his free hand. "What are you talking about?"
Jarod looked at the floor for a moment before he said, "A few nights ago Alyx had a dream, you call them Quicksilver dreams, I believe."
Darien shook his head. "No, she said it was bleed over from you."
Jarod gave him a grim smile. "That too, but it wasn't all she dreamt about."
"She saw me die," Mason stated, though Darien was uncertain if it was an assumption or if he had known all along and right now he didn't want to hear the answer.
Jarod nodded. "Our plan would fail, so we met here and we used her gift."
Darien backed up a few steps to sit on the deep window ledge. "Her oracle thing? But I thought she couldn't control it?"
"She can't," Jarod agreed. "Not on her own."
Darien sighed softly. "It takes the two of you to work fully."
"Yes. We ran through every scenario, every plan we had come up with and none of them were successful in saving your father's life." Only now did he open the beer and take a small sip of it. "She came up with new ones, tried every combination she could think of and in the best of them your father still died."
"And how is that the best of them?" Darien asked, a hard bite to his words.
"I was the only one who died," Mason answered, proving he'd been read in at some point over the last couple of days.
"There were scenarios where no one survived... including yourself." Jarod didn't look happy about any of this, but at least he was willing to talk. Yet Darien could still see in his mind the man standing over his father, gun in one hand cell phone in the other and the quite pop of the small caliber gun going off.
"So she thought outside of the box?" Darien questioned, wondering how she could ever think that risking Grams would be a good idea.
"I believe she initiated that scenario out of frustration only. I do not believe she had any idea it would be successful," Jarod explained. "I do know she looked for any other option before admitting it was the only plan that might work."
"Okay, I get that part…"
"I don't," Mason interjected, earning a ghost of a smile from Darien. "I know she has gifts, but you seem to be saying she can see the future. And not just in tiny scenes like you do." He turned to face Darien who tried not to be surprised that his dad knew about the Quicksilver dreams.
Darien rubbed the back of his head as he tried to come up with a simple and concise explaination for something almost beyond comprehension. "Uh, remember the whole Centre talk?" Mason nodded. "She was… bred to be able to see all the futures of a specific sim, so they could choose the right path to follow." He glanced over at Jarod who nodded.
"I have to play out the basic scenario, her mind takes over and sees all the possible ways it can go. One change, no matter how small can alter the outcome drastically." Jarod looked surprisingly worn, suggesting this hadn't exactly been easy for him either.
"So she let them hack the GPS? Knew we would end up boxed in?" It made no sense to Darien. If you knew what would be coming, you stop it, not allow it to happen.
"Knew I had made alliances and would be there," Jarod added. "Knew how everything would play out to the last detail." He paused to take a long drink before resuming trying to explain. "If she had changed anything major, it wouldn't have worked. Her changes had to be subtle and timed perfectly for those watching to be convinced his death was real."
"But I saw him shot." He waved the mostly empty bottle at his dad.
"So did they," Mason said with a grin. "Blood pack. Alyx exploded it. Jarod shot me with a paint ball. I have been assured that everything looked real to those watching."
Darien paled slightly. "Uh, yeah. Very real." He finished off the beer and set the bottle on the floor. "She got into our heads? Their heads? Made them see what she wanted?"
"Close enough. Yakiro fired that shot, Alyx deflected the bullet while making certain they saw him hit." Jarod gestured at Mason, who nodded.
"She prompted me when to play dead… or dying as the case may be. They saw what you did, from what I understand," Mason explained. "Jarod finished the job and posted proof of the kill online for all to see."
Darien had expected that as it had been part of the plan and part of Jarod's pretend. One of the traits of the character he had been playing. "But why didn't any of you tell me? I ain't that bad at my job."
Jarod shook his head. "We couldn't. You have no idea how badly she wanted to, how hard she tried to find a way to make this work with you knowing, but…"
"But I always died. You couldn't know," Mason finished. "It had nothing to do with your skills. She simply wanted to be certain no one got hurt any more than necessary." He rubbed at the spot where the paint ball had hit him and a faint bruise could be seen now that Darien had taken the time to pay attention.
"That can't have been the best solution. Making me think you were dead."
"Fawkes,"Jarod interrupted, "it was the only solution. In quite a few of the scenarios both you and Hobbes were killed. It was that path and no others that would succeed."
Darien wanted to accuse Jarod of lying to protect her, but there was no reason to. She had spent the last several hours with his unspoken blame being broadcast loudly enough for his dead brother to hear and she'd said nothing, not a single word to defend herself or explain.
Hell, she could have simply told him at any time after the scene had been swept clean of the evidence of what had happened.
"She made all of us see that. Even Yakiro and yet she had control of everything. None of it had to happen." He knew he was looking for reasons to be angry now, but could not seem to let it go.
Jarod frowned deeply. "Not everything. Hell, she controlled very little, she simply knew how it would play out and when to make the few moves it would take for it to go our way. There's a reason there's a body double in the morgue right now with injuries to match those he appeared to have received." He sighed and rubbed his face in his hands. "I know this is difficult to understand… really understand, but she sees everything when she is the Oracle. Can run through it forwards and backwards, see every step, how every tiny change alters the outcome. More information than even I can handle in just a few minutes of time. She sees it all."
"How does she not break?" Mason asked softly, as if questioning the air more than either of them.
"Sheer stubbornness," Jarod responded. "She made a promise to get you out of this somehow, she fully intends to do that no matter what may bar her way." He glanced meaningfully over at Darien, who still wasn't happy with being left in the dark.
"It's been over for hours, why didn't she tell me? I mean the Official gets to be in on it, but not me?"
Mason looked over at Jarod who shrugged. "Son, the Official thinks I'm dead. Far as I know she told him nothing about this change in plans. Oh, he probably knew about us heading out to the farm, but that's it. I don't believe your partner Hobbes knew either."
Darien blinked at that. "So who did know?"
"Me, your father and Alyx. And I doubt she would have told him, except we needed the blood and to set up the details. Most of what happened today was unscripted, but exactly as she saw it," Jarod told him. "And she did not want to tell you. Not yet anyway."
Darien felt his blood go cold. She had wanted to continue to torture him? To force him to mourn and grieve and possibly break with this loss? Wanted to make him tell his Grams that they'd failed and killed her son? "Not yet?" he got out in strangled voice. "Not ever, you mean."
"No. She intended to tell you as soon as we were away, but you forced her hand." The first hints of irritation began to creep in Jarod's voice.
This made no sense. "Why wait? Why… torture me like this."
"Son, that was never her intent. And, yes, she fully understood how my death would affect you."
"And yet she did it anyway," Darien sneered.
"Because that was the job," Jarod snapped right back with. "To get him out of here alive and with a chance at a new life. With you, if I recall correctly. And this," he stabbed a hand at the wood floor, "was the only way to do that." He pushed off and stalked around the island counter and into the kitchen, clearly wanting to put some distance between himself and Darien. "She won't tell you because she's afraid it might change the outcome. So long as your father is still in town there remains a risk he may be discovered and killed. Bringing you here, so that you could see he is alive and well may change that."
That stopped Darien cold. "Could it?"
Jarod shrugged. "We don't know, but since the gift is hers she felt it better to not risk it and said nothing. We have no idea how she influences that timeline she's chosen after the cusp has been passed. She felt it safer to let it play out with her not attempting to control events. But you were so upset she realized she could not withhold the truth from you until certain your father was away from here."
Darien covered his sudden discomfiture by finishing the beer. She had done the right thing for the right reasons from a mission perspective, but from a personal one she'd gone about it all wrong, had lied and kept secrets that had caused him more than enough pain to break him if it had continued for any length of time. "Crap," he muttered under his breath.
"Son?" Mason asked softly, as if giving him the option to not respond.
"I… I think I may not be cut out for this spy gig," Darien admitted ruefully. Yeah, he had a knack for the physical work. Loved being able to semi-legally break into places and steal stuff. Loved the planning aspects. Had started to get the hang of playing a part to get the job done. But he completely sucked at compartmentalizing the different halves of his life.
Alyx excelled at it.
And that had been the problem this time. No matter how personal this job had been, she had been able to separate the two and focus on, what to her her, had been the more important half: the job.
Mason chuckled softly. "Skill-wise you most certainly are, but emotionally… you need some work."
"This job was too personal for you," Jarod stated, seeing the obvious. "And it's not something you can just turn off, be thankful for that."
"Yeah, 'cause that worked so well this time around," Darien groused.
Jarod looked over at Mason who looked pained for an instant. "Darien, sometimes agents turn it off for too long and never come back. Can never manage the personal side again. Alyx is so good at turning it off, at locking away the parts she doesn't need at that that moment…" He shook his head.
"She needs you to be that for her. She needs you to bring her back," Jarod finished. "She's better now that those personas have been removed, but she's been closing herself off since long before coming to the Agency."
Darien nodded slowly in agreement to that. Her husband had been the first to teach her how to separate the parts of her life. Hide the pain, hide the bruises, hide the damage - physical and mental - and pretend to be what he wanted just to survive from day to day. The Agency had ripped her from her former life, changed her appearance, and forced her to start over complete with a new name. "But how do I do this job if I can't be like… all of you."
"The best you can," Mason answered. "Alyx is right, you will never be a traditional spy… and that is not a bad thing. Be glad when you go home at the end of the day that you can still care. Most of us can't after a few years."
"But what if it gets to be too much?" Darien asked in a hushed tone, the room having fallen eerily silent.
"You get out," Mason told him, his tone serious. "You walk away and don't look back."
. . . . .
False dawn touched the sky when he finally left the apartment, his father and Jarod off to their transportation out of the great state of California. Probably a private jet that the Pretender would be piloting. Darien had locked the apartment and headed down to the garage wondering how he was gonna get home and debating the merits of calling for a cab at this hour. Then he saw her car, sitting in its old spot.
Of course, she had made certain he could get home. Leaving herself stranded because in her mind he always came first. It was stupid things like this that forced him to realize she cared for him beyond all measure, beyond her own comfort and well being.
Yeah, she'd probably just called a cab, much like he'd been contemplating, but the point had been made. No matter how angry or upset she put him first.
Darien felt worn, exhausted, burnt out and in need of a hug. If he simply went home, where she most likely had not gone, he would not get the latter.
He dug out his keys, thumbing through them for the one to her car, the sweet Jag looking abandoned and forlorn to his eyes` in the poorly lit garage. Aside from being certain she would not have gone home he had no idea where she might be. If she really needed distance from him she might have taken up one of the out of town jobs sure to be waiting for her on the Official's desk and be halfway 'round the world by now.
He slid into the driver's seat, not surprised she'd already adjusted it for his much longer legs and put the key into the ignition, but did not start it. He tapped the steering wheel with one finger as he contemplated what to do. He couldn't just drive around, hitting her usual haunts and hope he found her.
But that wasn't true, not really. He leaned back in the seat and closed his eyes, allowing the stress, the memories, the pain and terror of the day slip away and focusing on that spot in the back of his head where she lived. It took a few minutes, but he eventually felt a tug, a sense of her, which meant she hadn't decided to block him out even though he'd spent a fair part of the day hating her for what she had allowed to happen.
He shoved that aside violently. He had to forgive her or they would end up broken beyond repair.
If that hadn't happened already.
He didn't want to be over. He wanted to spend his life with her, but it had become obvious that it might not be possible. He.. she… they had too much baggage and no matter how much they loved each other the crap they had brought with them might very well tear them apart.
And they had just bought a fucking house.
Time to bite the bullet, he supposed.
He started the car with a roar, the sound echoing off every surface in the garage, and shifted into gear following that tug of her into the early morning darkness.
He found her at the beach. Kensington Beach to be specific. He knew exactly where she would be; sitting on the rocks, looking out over the water, knees probably drawn up to her chest, chin resting on them, arms hugging them tightly.
He sat in the parking lot, debating how to approach her until actual dawn had begun to tint the sky with blue far off to the east behind the hills and buildings. He screwed up his courage, mulling what would he would say when he actually saw her.
He didn't really want to apologize as the reaction had been nothing but honest given what he had known at the time.
He found her staring out over the water as expected, but stretched out. Hands behind her, the rocky surface surely cutting into her palms, legs out before her, ankles crossed, and appearing relaxed instead of balled up and tense.
He stopped a dozen feet behind her and said, "You know, we own a view better than this one."
She snickered. "Yes, I suppose we do. Just wasn't too certain of the welcome there."
Darien sighed softly. "Neither was I." If you'd asked him hours ago he would have said no, she would not be welcome in their home, but now… now he could only hope she wouldn't leave. "I won't apologize."
"I know, and I don't expect you to." She glanced up at him for a moment and then turned away, her gaze back to the slowly lightening sea. "I just…"
"What?" They needed to talk this through. He needed to hear, from her, why she had made the choices she had.
"I just don't understand why you're so… upset with me," she finally said in a soft voice, the confusion evident in her tone and her glance back at him.
All he could manage to do was to stand there in silence. He wanted to yell, to sputter incoherently at her. Verbally smack her about for being a callous bitch who had done everything wrong in the last twenty-four hours.
He watched her back tense as his emotions plainly leaked through to her.
She interrupted his silent rant with, "What did I promise to do?"
He twitched at the question, knocking his anger and frustration off the rut it had become entrapped in. "Save my dad," he responded, words short and sharp, barely able to escape the confines of his throat without snarling his displeasure at her.
"And what did I do?"
He closed his eyes and swallowed hard, not wanting to answer the question for some reason. "Save my dad."
She tipped her head up to stare at the cloudless sky, the distant stars fading as the sun came closer and closer to breaching the horizon. "Then what did I do wrong?"
He had expected confused and plaintive, not sad and unhappy. She had done just as she had promised; he could not deny that for one second. His father was alive and healthy and off to get a fresh start at living. Still, the memory of him being shot hurt. And to know she could have ended his pain even before it had occurred… well, it bothered him. Bothered him that she would be willing to cause him so much pain without a even a hint of guilt about it.
"I… you picked the job over me. That… that hurts."
She sighed heavily and shook her head, and he could only hope that meant she understood the entire novel's worth of ranting that actually accompanied that admission 'cause he really didn't want to have to say it out loud.
"Then we have a problem, I suppose." She drew her knees up and shifted slightly to sit more on her tailbone, which had to be uncomfortable as all hell. "Jarod told you why I chose as I did."
"Yeah," Darien answered even though it had not been a question. "And I get it, much as I can anyway. You did what you thought was best to complete the mission." He knew the words sounded bitter and he feared this would not be the last time she chose work over him… over them.
She whipped her head about to glare up at him. "Yeah, I did, 'cause that was the job, just in case you had forgotten."
"It wasn't a goddammed job," he snapped, frustrated that she could consider it anything but personal and important as all hell.
"Yes it was," she snapped right back. "Once the Agency became officially involved that is exactly what it became: a job. And as lead I get to decide the need to know, which, as always, you can't stand."
Okay, yeah, he hated being kept in the dark on things, especially those that might get him or someone he cared about dead, but he had no issues with her being lead. She excelled at it and could handle all the minutiae without needing dozens of folders to keep it all organized the way Hobbes did. He loved working with her and wished it happened more often, he just could not absorb why she had kept him so far out of the loop this time.
His silence had apparently gone on for too long as he tried to figure out how to respond to her accusation.
"Hell, this is a fair portion of why I won't marry you these days."
Her words were barely above a whisper, but she would not have spoken out loud if she hadn't wanted him to hear everything.
"And why is that exactly?" No way in hell he'd let that bombshell just slip past.
"Because you would still expect me to leave," she stated, turning about to meet his eyes. Hers bright in the almost dawn light even though they remained in shadow. "I could promise to be by your side forever with a Catholic Priest performing the ceremony complete with love, honor and obey and you would still push and make assumptions and find any excuse possible to justify your misplaced belief that I will inevitably leave you. We just bought fucking house for heaven's sake. Why do you insist on believing I'm going to leave at any moment?"
"I… I don't do that," he argued half-heartedly, even though deep down he knew her words to be the truth.
She shook her head, laughing bitterly. "Christ, Dare, you're thinking it right now."
He wanted to belie that point, but since as she had so astutely noted he had been thinking it. "So, when are you moving back into your apartment?" It would explain the furnishings he'd seen. Clearly, no one else had rented the place, which meant it was still hers.
She huffed. "I'm not. Jarod's alter-ego was using it. He needed work space outside of the house to sell the Pretend."
"Oh," Darien mumbled, realizing that made a lot of sense, but it didn't explain why the place was still in her name. "But you don't deny it's still yours?"
"D, I had just signed and paid for a two-year contract when we decided to move in together. Instead of breaking it I chose to hold onto it. While not useful as a safe house as such, there are others, like Jarod who can use the place." She shrugged. "If I'd had any clue it was going to be an issue I'd've taken the loss and broken the lease."
She sounded irritated, justifiably he supposed. He had made an awful lot of assumptions, just as she had accused, most of which had been wrong in one way or another. "So, you're coming home?"
She gave him a puzzled look that clearly marked him as an idiot. "Of course. I am not going to be the one to prove your fears right. If you want me to leave all you have to do is say so. But otherwise I'm not going anywhere."
Darien felt a surge of relief flow through him. She would not leave him, he knew that. At times it just seemed so very hard to believe. He sighed softly and moved a few steps closer, the beginnings of building shadows being cast out across the water; you could now easily see where the sunlight began and the darkness ended, the curve of the horizon visible in the far distance.
"Good. For the record I definitely do not want you to leave. I just can't seem to get rid of the fear that you will." Truth enough for the moment. "And this whole mess with my dad. I get that I took the job too personally, but - I can't unsee what I saw."
"I can fix that," she said. "You'd be stuck with both sets of memories, but it might help."
"You can do that?" He sat down feeling more than a touch shocked.
She gave him a tiny smile. "I can do that. But let's not advertise that to the 'Fish, okay? He'd have me doing all sorts of shit I really don't want any part of."
"Fair enough." He shifted beside her, watching her as she stared out over the water. "What are we gonna do about the work/personal thing? The leaving it at the door idea didn't work so well when we let it in the door."
Alyx snickered. "Well, I am hoping situations like that don't come up too often, but you are right, we need to figure out a way to work together that won't impact our relationship more than necessary."
"Any ideas on that?"
"Simple, we don't work together, or, if we must, not when I am lead."
Simple indeed. "And if I'm lead?"
She gave him a droll look. Of course she wouldn't have a problem with that given her ability to compartmentalize the various facets of her life. "But I like working with you and you're awesome as lead."
She shrugged. "But you can't handle me deciding on the need to know, and as lead I have to be able to."
He frowned slightly, hating she was right.
"This isn't some 'kneel before Zod' lecture, just the simple facts. You prefer that we are open and honest with each other, but we both know that is not always possible on this job. So, we make it clear to the Official that we are not to work together unless necessary."
Darien shook his head. "He'll say we're putting us before the job."
"We will be," she stated, plain and simple. "Ultimately that's the more important aspect of my life. The Agency is a necessity for now-"
"No it's not," he interrupted, cutting off the rest of her justification, whatever it may have been. "It might be a convenience, but you, at least, do not need the Official or the Agency any longer."
She blinked, clearly taken aback by his words. "What would you suggest then?"
"Stop being my dad," he chuckled.
She just closed her eyes for a long moment as if uncertain what he meant. "Dare-"
"I realized something this… yesterday when we were standing on Gram's front porch. You have all this power and I'm not talking your gifts here, though that's part of it. You retask a satellite at the drop of a hat, you ask favors from people high enough up the government food chain that the 'Fish blinks and yet you think you need the Agency to get by?" He reached out and tapped her on the nose. "Even I'm not that dumb."
She shook her head, either truly not understanding or faking it damn well. "What are you trying to say?"
He sighed softly, somewhat disconcerted at her seeming inability to see what he and his father had so easily. "I mean exactly what I said, 'stop being my father.' Family is so important to you and yet you stay away from yours out of fear."
"Well, yeah. You have been following along the last few years, right?" Irritation had begun to creep into her voice.
"Yeah, I have, especially the last few months. Alyx, baby, you have The Centre afraid of you. Who the hell else would be stupid enough to even try to touch you and yours?" He took her hand into his and twined their fingers together. "Screw the Agency, you don't need 'em. Bring your kids home."
She twitched. "You're nuts."
He shook his head. "No, I'm not. Sweet thing, I get that you're afraid, but you don't have to be. You can have your cake and eat it too. Quit the Agency. Start your own business, hell, go into security. Between your computer skills and psychic ones, you'll be at the top of the industry in no time. Bets you could even get Patrick in on it with specially designed computer systems."
"But… but what about you?"
"What about me? I could stay with the Agency, I s'pose, or I could just ride along on your coattails. I think I might have some insight on designing security to keep thieves out." Oh, that could actually be fun. And much like that dream he'd had once upon a time. "Your lab already has all the formulas I'd need, and while the 'Fish might be pissed I'm certain we could cut a deal that'll make even his greedy little heart happy."
She stared at him as if he'd taken a swan dive into full blown insanity. "Claire and Bobby?" she asked weakly.
"Let's see, Bobby'd bring all his contacts along if you happened to hire him and I'm betting a certain lab would be more than happy to hire someone of Claire's caliber. 'Sides I know she's dying to work on the QSX Project." He grinned, hoping she'd return it, but her eyes just got wide instead. "We can do this. I want to do this. Our family. All together."
He swore he saw tears forming in her eyes and wagged a finger at her. "No crying, but, yes, I am serious. You have enough power to raise a frickin' army to defend your kids should it be needed. And… and you need them. Even I realize that."
"But I thought you… we… kids of our own?"
"Any reason we can't do both?" She shook her head. "I didn't think so." He turned away from her to look out at the water in order to give her a minute to digest everything he just told her. She seemed stunned, frozen into immobility, and he could not help but be touched by her reaction. Talking about her kids could be challenging because of how much she missed them and while he'd made it clear in the past that he considered their safety his responsibility as much as hers this might be the first time she'd realized he truly meant the words. Saying he cared was nice, but acting on it? That would mean the world to her.
And he should have done it sooner.
She shifted over slightly so that their arms just barely touched.
"Yes?" he asked, sensing she had something of great import to say.
"I want you to know that I appreciate what you just offered more than words can say, but it doesn't change the real issue, and adding my kids into the mix won't work as a band-aid." Her voice faint, the pain she did not want to inflict on him with her words evident in the emotions leaking through to him.
Darien flinched, physically and emotionally. He'd just made the grand gesture of their relationship and… and she'd essentially said it wasn't good enough.
"Darien G. Fawkes, don't you turn this about on me when you know I'm right." She grabbed his hand, refusing to allow him to pull away, and squeezed tight, making it clear she planned to hold on, so he stopped fighting before she crushed his fingers. "If you mean this-"
"Of course I mean this. I want you happy." He did and he knew he alone could not do that for her. She put so much effort into protecting others that even their time alone was colored by it. Their home a prime example of that. The security measures designed to keep them safe, the purchase of the house done through so many shell companies that even God would never figure out they had any part of it. "I know you love me, I know you would do anything for me, but I also know you've… settled for me." He lifted their hands to kiss her fingers, the taste of sea water and salt on her skin making him realize she'd been out here for hours. "You need your family with you, even if… even if it's without me."
Yeah, he'd step aside if that's what it took, but he'd be the first to admit that was not what he wanted.
"D, for once stop trying to be all noble and listen to me, okay?"
"Uh, okay," he responded in confusion. She sounded both amused and irritated at the same time.
"If you mean this…"
Darien had a sudden feeling of deja vu.
"-then bring it up again in six months."
"Why six months?" he questioned feeling a touch stunned.
"Because if we can't work out our issues by then…" She shrugged.
"Then we have bigger problems and there's little point in dragging your kids into it," he finished, not hating the idea. "Why so long?"
"I considered a year, but knew you'd balk at that. If you convince me prior to then we'll revisit this discussion." This time she was the one to lift hands and kiss fingers, trying to ease the sting of her words and it worked well enough he supposed. And, he had to admit, it was a reasonable compromise.
"Plus it gives us time to plan our escape," he pointed out, not hating the idea.
She nodded. "And plan how to tell my kids I've been alive all this time without them never wanting to see me again."
"Ah, hell, Alyx. Angry for a while, maybe, but your kids will be thrilled to have you back." He meant the words. Yeah, he'd been an idiot where his dad had been concerned, but he had grown up without him. If he'd been a kid, even a teen, he would have welcomed his father back with open arms and tears. It would have been hard, but he would have rather had his father back than to continue living without him. And it was still true now he supposed; he just had to let go of the bitterness and cynicism those extra years apart had pounded into him. "They'll adjust and we'll make certain they're prepared to handle anything the world throws at them."
He bumped her shoulder eliciting a clear hiss of pain. He shifted slightly and pulled up the sleeve of her shirt to reveal a bloodied bandage. "You're hurt? When did that happen?"
"Yakiro shot me."
Darien blinked, certain he would remember that. "At the dam?" She nodded. "He could have killed you," he stated in a hushed voice, realizing all too well how close he had come to losing her, especially given he still had the memory of his dead father rattling around in his head.
She shook her head. "Nah. He knew he couldn't risk that. 'Fish'd have his head." She used their hands to tug the sleeve back down, hiding the evidence. "Once I showed up at the dam with Mason he knew the miss in Calgary wasn't. Since he'd want to get even I let him get his pound of flesh out of the way. He even loaded a regular slug just for me."
"You let him shoot you?"
"It was get it out of the way now or be looking over my shoulder for the next several months." She looked him in the eye. "It's not bad, a flesh wound if you will."
"Still, you got shot and I didn't even notice." Guilt washed over him. He'd been so consumed with his own concerns that he'd never even noticed the most important person in his life had been hurt. "You are amazing, you know that?"
"Some days more than others, apparently."
He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. "Hush, you. Though the 'Fish is gonna be pissed he can't pick Perdue's brain for intel."
"That's not necessarily a bad thing is it? He would eventually use that relationship against you and get pissy with me about the debriefing deal." She tipped her head over to lean against his shoulder, her need for sleep being leaked to him through the contact.
"Guess there's no need for the intel anyway."
Alyx laughed softly. "I already have all the intel."
"Huh? When did…" He trailed off thinking. "When you hugged my dad on the porch. He gave you everything then, didn't he?" Damn, that was a bold move on both their parts. And it met the letter of the deal made: info for a new life. Darien knew Alyx hadn't expected Mason to honor the deal, at least not for the Official, but for her? For his son? Yes. He'd give them that info in order to help keep them alive.
"Not specifically planned that way, but yeah. It'll take some time to sort through, but I'll get it all into the servers at home."
"Good." He tipped his head to rest against hers, the morning breeze kicking in as the sun made it high enough to cast their shadow on the rocks before him. "C'mon, let's head home and get some sleep."
"Not yet, 'kay? I just need a few minutes, here, with you not hating me." She turned to rest her forehead against his shoulder, her need in every line of her body. Her pain easily felt even without their mental connection. She felt bad for what she had done, but he knew she'd do it again if the situation happened again.
"We'll talk to the 'Fish tomorrow. I just don't want him using us not working together as an excuse to whore you out more."
She nodded, rubbing her face against his arm like a cat marking her territory. "Tomorrow. Just us today."
"Yeah, just us." They needed time alone. Time for him to let go if the hurt. Time for him to let go of the past.
Time for him to trust again.
Trust her.
Trust that she meant every word she said. That she loved him. That she would stay with him for as long as he wanted her. That one day she might marry him; have his child, whims of fate permitting.
He just had to let go of that fear of being left alone.
"Love you," he whispered into her hair, the wave of peace coming from her assuring him she'd heard the words and she knew that he'd meant them. He closed his eyes, the sun warm on his back and chose to just be for a while.
. . .
The great innovator of the 20th century, Steve Jobs, stated, "You can't connect the dots looking forward you can only connect them looking backwards. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future. You have to trust in something: your gut, destiny, life, karma, whatever. Because believing that the dots will connect down the road will give you the confidence to follow your heart, even when it leads you off the well worn path."
The past I knew, those dots I had believed in for so many years, that path I had followed, had shifted and still led me to the very same place here at the Agency. Two truths, two paths, both different and yet the same and they had led me here to… her. And she, I had decided, would be my future.
All that remained was to walk down that path.