"We're almost there," Jarod assured her, setting a hand on her thigh and squeezing gently.
"That's what you keep saying yet we never seem to actually get there." She tried to interject amusement into the words, but was pretty certain she'd missed the mark given how he whipped his head about to look at her. "That bad, huh?"
"You sound like utter shit, Alyx," he informed her, as he slowed and turned up the road that ultimately led to the resort. Behind them one of the dogs whined softly, in full agreement of Jarod's assessment of her current state.
"Well, since I feel like utter shit..." She didn't bother finishing, the humor was decidedly lacking and she had become aware that she was slurring her words badly. She couldn't remember the last time that she hurt so much. She'd done a lot of overdoing it the last few months, but nothing on the scale of what she had done today and, if what Jarod said was true, this headache, this aching numbness, this excruciating pain that kept her from stringing more than a few words together at once, was not real. That if she could only believe hard enough, the pain would vanish and she would have untold amounts of power at her immediate disposal.
Right now, she would, no matter how she feared having all that power at her beck and call, take it just to make the pain go away. She moaned, one hand going to her forehead as if in an effort to keep her brain from bursting through her skull and across the dashboard in front of her.
Oh, what a lovely mental image that was.
"Will you take care of the boys tonight?"
"The boys?" Jarod questioned in obvious confusion. "Oh, the dogs. Um, sure, but they probably would prefer to be with you."
"Agreed, but I really don't think either of my partners would appreciate being mauled, no matter how pretty the dog." Never mind that she most certainly did not have the wherewithal to play with their minds and make them all lovely-dovey with strangers right now. She'd deal with that when her brains no longer wanted to ooze out of her ears.
Jarod snorted softly. "You may have a point there. I'll get them settled at my cabin and check in with you in about thirty minutes."
"No need-"
"Yes need. You are hurt, bad enough that you keep getting bloody noses, I'll grab my kit and swing by to make certain none of the damage is permanent. Besides, isn't Fawkes in need of assistance with his... problem."
She knew Jarod was correct and kind of hated that fact. Damn, the man learned fast. "Well, hopefully Hobbes has taken care of that, but, yes, your assistance would be appreciated... if only by me."
"Good, especially since I wasn't going to take no for an answer." He slowed the jeep to a stop before her cabin. "Want me to walk you in?"
She shook her head, regretting it almost instantly, as her stomach roiled in irritation. "No, I'll be fine." She unbuckled then turned about to look at the dogs. "Behave. Do as Jarod says and hurt no one." She couldn't force the orders into their minds and could only hope the words would be enough.
"Go. They'll be fine," he assured her.
And they would be, she knew that, but it would seem that part of her had no real interest in walking into the cabin and facing what most certainly would be a wrothful Darien Fawkes. Even if he had indeed been dosed with Counteragent those concerns about her and Jarod would still be present and would remain until she could sit him down and explain the situation in detail. Something that would not happen in her current condition. She needed to curl up and die, preferably in Darien's arms, for a few hours and let the world settle about her. Placating a pissy boyfriend was not something she wanted to deal with right now.
She slid out the door, not liking the fact she needed the support even after her feet had hit the ground and thought she was steady. "Do not run off on me Jarod, we still have much to discuss."
The solemn look on his face would have normally made her smile at its seriousness, but now she could only appreciate his willingness to allow her to see the emotions she could no longer feel. "I said I'd be by in thirty minutes and that is what I intend to do."
She nodded, attempting to give him a grateful smile, but pretty much gave it up as a bad job when yet another ice pick drove into the back of her skull. Those not-so-subtle warnings becoming actual demands at this point. "Thanks," she told him, meaning so much more than this moment.
"Welcome. Now go. Before your partners decide to hunt me down for commandeering all of your time." He pointed at the direction of the cabin door and with a soft sigh she nodded, not surprised that he had figured out that she was reluctant to go face the music, and knowing that she had to.
She grabbed her bag from the foot well, slung it over one shoulder and shut the door, the engine rumbling softly in the cold air, Jarod planning on sitting there to make certain she got into the building without falling on her face in the snow. Wrapping what little strength that remained about her like a heavy cloak, she cautiously strode over the trampled snow of the walk and up the short flight of steps. She turned back around once she had reached the door to give Jarod a wave, assuring him that she had made it intact, which, admittedly, had been debatable. Opening the door she walked into the welcome warmth of the cabin.
While she had expected to see the boys awaiting her arrival, she was not overly concerned when she found the main room empty. She dropped her bag on the sofa and shed the heavy winter wear, leaving it in a pile on one of the cushions. She'd deal with it later. Toeing off the boots as she walked she headed for the lone bedroom where she had left her suitcase, when she noticed her small black case sitting on the dining table amongst the various files and notes they had left behind. With an audible groan of relief she made a beeline for the case, her intention nothing more than to dose herself and collapse. Yet, she paused, the seemingly empty cabin causing concern to make its way to the forefront of her mind.
She had hoped the boys would be here, wanting the company, and to make certain Darien was all right, so she stepped past the table and to the bedroom, wondering if maybe they'd decided to take a nap or something, only to find the room empty. The concern flared higher.
She wished she could feel a thing, then she'd just be able to reach out and sense where they were, but that was not an option, least not until she took some meds. Pulling out her phone she sent a quick text to both men, just to let them know she'd made it back to the cabin intact, so, given the echoing silence about her, was surprised when the distinctive tones of both phones went off nearby.
"Darien? Bobby?" The place wasn't that big, which meant there weren't all that many places to hide. And while the tone for Bobby's phone had sounded muffled, Darien's had not, suggesting he was in the room with her.
A sudden sharp pain in the back of her neck caused her to grunt and damn near go to her knees. Reaching up she found a syringe sticking out of her, and removed it with care. Looking at it she recognized it as one of hers, roughly half the contents missing, most likely now in her, which could be a good thing since it appeared she was under attack.
Provided she managed to stay conscious, of course.
Turning about, the room spinning in a dizzying manner, she watched as the Quicksilver flaked off Darien, a wary gaze on his features as he looked at her. "Darien?" she questioned, feeling like an utter fool. She'd known something had gone wrong with the Quicksilver, the toxin, the monitor… or any combination thereof, but as Bobby had assured her things had been under control, she hadn't questioned his lack of communication for the last hour. Had stupidly assumed everything must be all right with a no news is good news mentality. An idiotic mistake that she would be paying for in the near future, she was quite certain of that.
She swayed, the half dose of painkiller easing the pain even as it made the world swim about her. "Crap," she mumbled, the syringe falling from her nerveless grip to bounce off the hardwood of the floor.
Darien was there then, a hand curling about her upper arm, too tightly admittedly, but with the strength she needed to remain upright. He didn't say anything, just gazed down at her with an icy expression on his features.
"What..." she shook her head in a vain attempt to clear it, between the pain and the drugs she barely knew which way was up at the moment.
"Feeling a tad mortal are we?" His voice lacked any emotion, colder than the darkest reaches of deep space, not that she'd ever been there, but the theories all bore out the fact that space was damn cold when not near a star.
Oh, fuck. She had better get her act together or a very Quicksilvermad Invisible Man would be taking her apart one piece at a time with very little resistance from her. "No more so than usual," she answered tartly. Well, she tried for tart, but was pretty certain she had missed when he laughed at her. "What do you want, Darien?" As if she didn't know, but the longer she dragged this out the better the chance someone might just happen by and rescue her. Not that she was fond of playing the role of damsel in distress, but right now she was kind of stuck with it.
"What do I want?" he echoed, head cocking to the side and a sick smile adorning his normally handsome features. "I want what so many others seem to get but me: your undivided attention."
A wash of heat flowed across her, the sedative's second stage kicking in, making her unable to support her own weight, slight as it was. Her knees buckled, leaving her dangling in his hold. "Well, you have it for whatever good it will do you."
He laughed bitterly, releasing his grip so that she fell. She just barely managed to get her arms down to prevent her head from striking the floor. If it had she would have been out and that... that would probably be very bad. The gods only knew what Darien would do to her if she were do to something as foolish as pass out. No, he wanted her awake, wanted her to listen to his every word and not be able to get away. Why else only give her a half dose of her meds? Granted he probably did not know how bad off she was pain-wise, but even if not sense-blind and in pain, the drug would knock her for a loop and make her eminently malleable. A toy for his currently twisted mind to play with.
On this occasion the drug worked to her advantage: easing the pain, which might actually allow her to use her abilities to some small degree.
Reaching down he grabbed her by the collar of her shirt and dragged her into the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind them. "You think this is funny?"
He let go, her limp body collapsing onto the fake fur rug at the foot of the beds. "Yeah, just rolling in laughter over here," she snarked, just lying there for the moment, trying to gather her scrambled wits about her. She needed to be calm if she stood any hope of talking her way out of this mess she'd gotten into.
With a casual seeming swipe he backhanded her hard enough to rock her head to the side and make her vision go dark for long moments. She forced her eyes to remain open in an effort to stay conscious. She could taste blood on her tongue and suspected he'd split her lip with the single blow. Damn, he was angry with her. She suspected she knew why, but also knew better than to jump ahead to the finale. No, Darien had planned this out with utter care and if she stepped all over his plans, she'd be in far more danger than she currently was.
With some serious effort she levered her body into a seated position, the blow actually having cleared away some of the cobwebs with the rush of adrenaline it had given her. "Nice," she groused. "Thanks for that."
"Least of what you deserve," he stated, crouching down in front of her.
"Perhaps," she agreed. She took a moment to relax, eyes never leaving him, then cautiously opened her shields in an effort to garner even the slightest hint of his intent. It hurt and gained her nothing, that wall in his mind still firmly in place. She sighed softly and tried to shift, but weakness still invaded her body, making her regret the addition of the muscle relaxant in the drug cocktail she'd whipped together. "Sorry, I screwed up. Care to tell me how this time?"
Darien growled deep in his chest, the sound vibrating the air between them. "You seem to have gotten awfully cozy with Miner."
She shrugged. "If you say so."
His hand whipped out and caught her across the face again, knocking her on her side with a vocal groan of pain. Once the world came back into focus it took three tries to sit back up, her arms collapsing, unable to support her weight for what would normally be a simple task. She spat out a mouthful of blood, her tongue finding the cut in her cheek where the soft flesh had been forced into her teeth.
"So, what now? More hitting? Some less than willing sex? Or are you actually going to tell me what I've supposedly done now?"
She was tired, hell, exhausted and not just because of the long day, but of the constant battle of wills, of trying everything in her power to make him believe in her... in them and always losing. He remained convinced that one day she would up and walk out of his life, turning her back on them... on him. No matter what she said, she did, deep down he could not seem to understand that simple truth.
She was here... she lived because of him. She would never walk out on that.
She managed to not flinch, albeit barely, when he reached out and cupped her chin with surprisingly gentle fingers. "I just want to understand," he said softly.
"Understand what?" she asked, not entirely certain where he was going with this.
He leaned in close, his breath hot against her cheek. "Why me?"
"Why not you." Not the best response, perhaps, but the only one she had at the moment. She set her hand over his, not trying to stop him or use her abilities to get through to him, but just to make contact, hoping he wouldn't pull away. "Darien, I made my choices and I will stand by them, but you... us, that was never a choice. It just was, and nothing you say or do will make me regret that."
He closed his eyes for a long moment, body shuddering with conflicting emotions, fighting the Madness, she suspected. But it was quite obvious who had won when he opened his eyes. "You lie," he hissed, grabbing her by the hair and dragging her upright, the pain a bright fire across the back of her skull.
He tossed her onto one of the beds with such force that she damn near rolled off the far side, only his hold on her keeping her from tumbling face first onto the floor. Closing her eyes, she sucked in a deep breath, wishing she hadn't hurt him so deeply that he'd lost all faith in her. Normally he kept these fears buried deep, reveling in the time they had together, but this... this had to have been simmering below the surface for a very long time, the Madness bringing it to the surface in all its brilliant, and pain filled glory.
She was not going to get out of this on her own. With a whimper she focused, on that newly awakened link between her and Jarod and managed a pitiful, *Help,* before Darien made certain to draw her attention back to him.
He kissed her, hard, teeth coming down on her already bloody lip, and though instinct demanded that she throw him off her by any means necessary, she instead surrendered, not about to give him what he thought he wanted: her hating him. So she gave him what he needed ever more desperately every day it seemed, her undivided and willing attention.
The change registered immediately on him, his mouth softening on hers, the tenseness in his body flowing away like water. He was no less dangerous, but the urge to seriously injure her had been momentarily been deflected. When he lifted his head to look down at her, his eyes had turned crimson, the toxin having decided to show itself finally. She was no fool and had known he was well into Stage 4 based on his behavior and suspected that the new inhibitor had been cause of the oddball symptoms.
Knowing this put her in no less danger, but if her message had gotten through she would only need to distract him for a few more minutes. "Darien," she breathed, thankful he was here with her no matter the circumstances. She just wished she could show him.
His look hardened and she threw caution and common sense to the wind. She threw the door to that link between them open wide, ignoring the sudden rush of blood from her nose, set gentle fingers on his cheek, and just let him feel all that she did. He could deny her feelings with words all he wished, but not this, this rush of pure and true emotion that encompassed all she felt for him.
He levered himself onto his forearms, eyes closing as that wall he'd put up crumbled to dust. He froze for a long moment, his face a raw mask of pain, then he shoved away from her with a snarl; the door slamming shut and practically knocking her into unconsciousness with the force of it. "No, stay out of my head. No more tricks." He stalked away, leaving her lying there feeling broken and abused inside and out.
"Then what you do want?" she asked, words barely a whisper in the air. She wished she could make him understand that there was nothing she wouldn't do for him. Nothing.
"To not want you the way that I do," he roared, utter and complete frustration coloring his features. Those red eyes bore into her, but she held no fear of him. "To not miss you every moment of every day we are apart. To not need you to live." He stalked the breadth of the room, hands clenching into white-knuckled fists over and over again, the neatly trimmed nails digging into the palms of his hands deep enough to leave bloody crescent moons behind.
"You think I don't feel the same," she responded, voice still so very soft. Now that she lay still, she really no longer wished to move, the drugs working as advertised, easing the pain and allowing her mind to slow its seeming constant movement. Dear lord, how she missed just being able to sleep, but those gifts she'd had bestowed upon her made it unnecessary and unneeded, able to remain awake and functional far longer than any human had been intended.
"How could you?" he argued. "You still leave."
"But I always come back." The truth, and it made him freeze in place, head snapping about to meet her eyes. "Even when everything is against me... against us, I come back." Instead of sliding into that sleep she so wanted, she rolled onto her side and forced her abused body to sit up. "And I always will." She held up her right hand, the ring he had given her adorning the third finger. "I'm sorry I can't be what you want, that I can't change that part of me... no matter how much I may want to..." She reached for a tissue from the box on the nightstand and daubed at nose, just thrilled at the blood. Lose any more and she'd be down for the count from frickin' blood loss, great, just great.
"But you still leave," he repeated, though the statement was less angry and more mournful this time.
She wadded up the tissue and tossed it away, then got up, the room swaying about her in a decidedly unfriendly manner, and walked over to him. "But I don't want to."
His hand shot out, wrapping about her throat, tight enough to feel it, but not so much that her air was cut off. "Prove it," he snarled, voice little more than a low growl in his chest.
She opened her mouth to answer, but he had tightened his grip so that her response remained trapped inside. Another voice, however, surprised her.
*We're coming,* Jarod's cool, controlled mind impinged on hers, with more than just the words, but images, a quick burst of information that made her thankful of the link forged between them.
He had heard her call for help and responded. Jarod and Bobby had a plan, they just needed her to do what she did best and play distraction.
Not that she would make much of one, weak as a kitten, drugged, and being slowly suffocated by the man she cared most about in the world, but she would do what had become their mantra on this job: fake it.
"You first," she ground out, not having a clue if the challenge could even be understood verbally, so she backed it up with the mental equivalent of a sledgehammer, slamming her way past that wall, if only for an instant.
Her words seemed to shock him, as if he had never considered the fact that she might worry about him leaving her. That while gone on some mission he would find someone else and she would come home to... emptiness, loss, loneliness, a life without him.
His grip loosened and she dropped to the floor, unable to remain upright, and began coughing as her body realized she could once again take in much needed oxygen. She had held the link to Jarod open, so he could see what she did, and the instant she was down and out of the line of fire, Jarod and Hobbes charged the door, surging into the room, Bobby tackling Darien down to the floor. Once down, Jarod moved in and swiftly injected the contents of a syringe he held in his hand into the muscle of Darien's thigh.
Darien screamed and thrashed, flinging Hobbes off of him and into the bureau, but it was already too late. Instead of jumping atop him again, both Hobbes and Jarod backed away, giving the sedatives a chance to work instead of engaging the madman in hand to hand combat in such a confined space.
Jarod went to Alyx, standing over her, a fierce protectiveness rolling off him that made her want to laugh in hysterics. In what? Three days the man had gone from complete stranger to her guardian. Like she needed another overprotective older brother.
Darien snarled, trying to get to his feet, using the end of the bed to support his efforts to stand, but the sedative, one of hers she was certain, would not be denied. He stumbled, one leg collapsing beneath him, eyes rolling wildly.
Alyx surged to her feet, slipping about Jarod, across the bed and onto the floor next to Darien, wrapping her arms about him and holding him close to prevent him from hurting himself as he fought the drugs. "Easy, sweets." She tipped her head down, letting him see that it was her and no one else. "You can let go now," she told him, "I'm here."
Darien whimpered, a flailing hand that she grasped with hers, the grip more than tight enough to cause pain, welcome pain at this point. He fought another moment, then sighed softly, his entire body going limp in her arms.
Alyx didn't hesitate for an instant. "Bobby, the kit and Counteragent, quickly."
"Yeah, kid." He got to his feet, a goose egg on his forehead where he'd hit the bureau, and headed to his bag, rummaging about until he found the kit and tossed it to her. "Counteragent's in the fridge, I'll be right back with it."
She nodded then turned to Jarod. "Think you can get him up on the bed?"
Jarod's gaze roamed over the long, lanky form, clearly planning his attack. "Yeah, lemme just..." He scooted down past the end of the bed, to stand behind her as she shifted out from under Darien, which allowed Jarod to grasp the unconscious man under the shoulders and heave the dead weight body onto the nearest bed. Together they got the limp man situated in a relatively comfortable position.
Alyx went to work immediately, opening the kit and removing what looked like a standard diabetes monitor. Without preamble, she stuck one of Darien's fingers into the opening and let the machine do it's job. The numbers that came back disturbed her greatly. Darien wasn't just in Stage Four, he was damn near Stage Five. "Bobby, hurry up."
"I'm coming, kid." And he was there in the doorway, the gray bag in his hand.
"Alyx?" Jarod asked in concern.
"In a minute, please. In fact, could use your help."
"Certainly."
She removed an empty, clean syringe from the kit and held it out to him. "I need a blood sample, and right now I can't focus, so if you would..." She gestured at Darien's arm.
He set a hand over hers. "How bad?" he asked, the look in his eyes pained.
Hobbes growled under his breath and she sighed heavily. "Bobby, for fuck's sake, Jarod is my... brother. Could you save your righteous wrath for later."
"B... b... brother? Holy shit, kid." He looked as stunned as he sounded. He handed over the bag, looking down at his partner. "How is he?"
"Nearly Stage Five," Alyx informed him. "Need you to do the blood draw now, Jarod, need a sample so the Keep can figure out what went wrong this time."
"Tourniquet?" he requested, letting go of her hand.
She handed one over, waiting with impatience for the vein to stand up, and Jarod to complete his task, the syringe full to the brim. He capped the needle and held it out to Hobbes. "Needs to be refrigerated, ASAP."
Hobbes nodded and took the syringe, trotting back towards the kitchen.
Alyx pulled out a pre-filled syringe of Counteragent, hoping to god it would actually work. Whatever had gone wrong might very well interfere with the Counteragent's ability to flush the toxin from his system. The amount of toxin in his system should be the same, how quickly it had been released into his system had changed, not his tolerance to it's effects. She slid the needle into the vein so recently vacated and slowly pressed down the plunger. She maintained a steady pressure, not wanting to shock his system any more than necessary, still, the instant she removed the needle, Darien's entire body convulsed, much to Jarod's shock, and he moved to hold the man in place.
"Alyx?"
"Normal, or whatever facsimile we live with these days." She knew she sounded tired, and maybe resigned, but after the last few days she felt deserving of those feelings.
"You're hurt," Jarod observed, releasing Darien as the convulsions eased and he relaxed onto the covers.
"I am, but I will soldier on," she told him, wanting nothing more than to curl up next to Darien and fall into a deep dreamless slumber. Instead, she carefully lifted one of his eyelids, sighing in relief to see the whites had returned to normal, and a fair sign that the Counteragent had actually worked. Maybe not flushing all the toxin, but enough to knock it back below Stage Two, and that would be good enough for now. She lifted his right hand, turning it over to examine the monitor buried beneath the skin of his wrist. It still showed one red and nine green, which she knew to be a lie.
"That the monitor?" Jarod asked quietly.
"Yep, only it ain't working to spec." She closed her eyes, not that the blurry eyesight was doing her much good anyway, to focus on the microchip and power source within. It seemed to be working fine, but when she ran her fingers across it, pressing down just hard enough to feel the chip beneath the skin, the power sputtered and flared, causing Darien's fingers to twitch and curl in response. "A short appears to be the issue," she said aloud and then shut the small device off. She opened her eyes to see that the serpent's eye had changed from green to red, signaling that it was indeed offline.
"A short? How?" Jarod shook his head. "When the coffee maker bit him, of course, but that wouldn't cause all his normal symptoms to disappear, would it?"
She couldn't help herself and smiled at his word choice. "No. I suspect the new inhibitor is that cause of those issues."
"Is he gonna be okay?" Hobbes asked. She hadn't even realized he'd come back to the room.
"Yes. No more inhibitor until we figure out what went wrong, though," she told him, exhaustion crashing down on her shoulders like the bricks of an imploding building.
"You need to sleep, kid," Hobbes told her, making it sound far more like an order than a statement.
"Not until I examine you. You might very well have a concussion." Jarod managed a stubborn look and she nodded in acquiescence.
"You okay, Bobby?" she asked, as Jarod left to gather his gear.
"Yeah, kid. He was gentle compared to what he did to you. You're a mess." He moved to stand next to her, setting a comforting hand on her shoulder. "You two need to talk. Really talk or this is just gonna keep happening."
She patted his hand. "I know. I just... right now I can't." Her words were pleading, trying to get across that it wasn't something under her rational control.
"Ah, kid, you're messed up good, ain't ya?"
She laughed bitterly. "That's putting it mildly."
Jarod saved her from any additional comments by returning with what looked like a full medical kit, stethoscope about his neck. All he needed was a lab coat to complete the look.
"How many?" she asked, knowing that Jarod would understand, while Hobbes remained blissfully in the dark.
"Several," he assured her with a wan smile, "and damn good ones too."
She nodded and set about to roll up her sleeve almost thankfully because once he had completed this examination she would finally be able to give up the reins and fall asleep.
…..
Once certain Alyx would remain out - she had spent a fair thirty minutes jerking awake to gaze about the room blindly before sliding back under - he left the bedroom for the living area of the cabin where he found Hobbes holding a snowball against the lump on his forehead. "Your turn."
Hobbes shook his head. "I'm good... and you are not a doctor." His eyes narrowed, wariness taking over his features.
Jarod shrugged. "I have been, a few times."
Hobbes shook his head. "What does that mean, exactly?"
"It means I've been trained to do a lot of things and I do them all very well... much like Michele."
Hobbes blinked, hand holding the snow lowering as he tried to absorb the meaning of his words. "You mean you learn like the kid?"
"More the other way around. She learns like I do." Jarod waited for the agent to absorb that, watching him carefully.
Hobbes sat silent for several minutes, working over everything he'd learned the last few days. It was obvious when he had come to a conclusion. "So, if I've got this straight, she's part of The Centre's projects as well?"
Jarod had suspected that Hobbes had forgotten little of their discussion the previous day. While Jarod had asked more questions than answered, he'd still made certain to warn Hobbes about The Centre and the fact that they would be coming after her... eventually. "That she is, one named Oracle."
Hobbes snorted softly. "So that's why she can do that. Keepy always wondered."
"This Keeper, she cares for them?" Jarod asked, needing to understand, even after so short a time he felt fiercely protective of her, much like he did for all his newfound family. Sadly, in her case he also felt responsible. If hadn't been what he was then The Centre would never have taken steps to recreate him. Then again, if he hadn't been who he was she never would have existed, and he had to admit he liked having her around.
"That too. She's more in charge of the gland in Fawkes' head than Alyx, but she's pretty much the only doctor able to deal with their special circumstances." Hobbes rubbed the top of his head, regretting it based on the wince when he hit one of the many bruises that Fawkes had given him. "Kid, assists with the research more than anything. Hell, she's gone more often than she's home these days."
"But she always comes back," Jarod stated.
"Yeah, even when the odds are stacked against her, she always comes back." He grimaced. "I'd like that to continue."
Jarod frowned. "That may not be possible. In all honesty I was going to recommend that she run. Not with me," he added quickly, sensing that would go over like a ton of lead bricks. "It's how I've managed to stay free for as long as I have." He leaned back, rubbing his temple, wondering exactly how much to tell the agent. "And I've been caught a few times, as well."
"But you've managed to escape," Hobbes stated.
"Because I am smarter than them." It wasn't pride, but simple truth, and Hobbes seemed to understand that.
"Good, then you should be able to get the kid what she needs," Hobbes stated, look hard.
Jarod felt confused, not having a clue what Hobbes meant. "What she needs?"
"Yeah, leverage."
Jarod rubbed his face with one hand, feeling suddenly tired. He knew Hobbes had a point, but Jarod had no clue what it could be. "Leverage?"
"Yeah, you know dirt, something the kid can hold over these Centre mooks to keep 'em at bay," Hobbes elaborated, which cleared up the confusion.
"Ah, that kind of leverage," Jarod summed up. Had to admit it wasn't a half bad idea, though said leverage would need to be really good to keep The Centre from coming after her. "I honestly don't know that would do any good."
"Can't hurt. Look, one thing I've learned over the years is that it's always a matter of leverage. The right amount used at the right time and you can get anything you want done." Bobby must have been feeling better as he had got up and paced the room as he warmed to his subject. "Like this case, Goodrowe had just the right leverage to get Hurst to do what he wanted. Or Alyx and the Official, they have a bit of leverage on each other and both try to keep it that way. Or Fawkes for that matter. The boss has a major bit of leverage on him. Well, had. Kid took care of that problem."
"You mean blackmail."
Hobbes shrugged. "Same thing, different perspective."
Jarod chuckled, hard to deny that. And he had a very good point, with the right... leverage he should be able to get The Centre to leave even him alone. "That is not a bad idea, but will take some serious digging." He frowned slightly. Digging into The Centre usually resulted in learning things better left unknown. Alyx would be discovering this to be true. "She may have some protection thanks to your agency, but if they decide they want her..."
"No stopping them, huh?"
Jarod nodded.
"Then I guess we best make sure she stays safe," Hobbes stated.
"Agreed, and as soon as you let examine you we will get to work on it," Jarod said with a serious look on his face.
Hobbes sighed, tossing the melting snowball into the kitchen sink. "Fine." He sat down on the sofa, not thrilled, but realizing he should probably submit to an exam, just in case. "Is the kid gonna be okay?"
"Her injuries will heal, and remarkably fast, I imagine, but her relationship with Darien may have suffered irreparable harm," Jarod concluded, pulling out the blood pressure cuff and gesturing for Hobbes to roll up his sleeve.
With only a soft grumble, Hobbes did as requested.
…..
He didn't recognize the ceiling. Granted he probably should, given it looked to be made out of rough hewn logs, but it had been months since he'd last been up to the cabin in Cold Springs, work keeping him too busy to do more than call Celia every Sunday like clockwork. He often found himself wanting to go visit her, to return to the tiny mountain town where he had grown up, the town he had tried so very hard to run away from and now... now he found wanted to make a home there.
He, who had eschewed any deep and meaningful connections to... anyone for years, wanted to settle down and live that impossible happily ever after. Crazy.
He blinked, but the ceiling didn't change one whit. Damn, his brains felt scrambled. What the hell had he been doing to end up in a cabin in the woods?
No, not woods, mountains. Snowy mountains in Montana.
Ah, the stupidly named Mountain High Resort. That's where he was.
As consciousness finally took firm hold and he became aware of the physical world about him, he damn near jumped out of his skin when something moved right beside him. He turned his head slowly to see a riot of tousled red curls and the sleeping body they belonged to. He shifted, brushing the hair off her face to reveal some impressive bruising. Guilt stabbed him forcefully in the gut as he remembered slapping her across the face, not once, but twice.
"Don't wake her."
Darien's head snapped around to see Jarod Miner sitting in a chair stuffed into the corner between the bureau and the door. A bureau he seemed to recall tossing Hobbes into at some point in time. "Crap," Darien muttered, trying to get his heart rate back under control before the Quicksilver flowed. Speaking of which, he lifted his right hand to gaze at the serpent coiled there, noting the red eye, which told him Alyx had switched it off at some point in time. Probably while he had been out cold. "What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice soft, but with a hard edge to it.
"What she asked me to: make certain you were all right," he answered, voice just as soft, but also calm and cool. Clearly, not about to let Darien ruffle his feathers. He closed the laptop and set it aside. "You have no reason not to trust her."
Darien snorted, causing Alyx to grumble in her sleep. Fair bet she had been drugged to the nines for her to be this out cold, which meant... Which meant she'd overdone it while rescuing the Hursts. Not a big surprise, really. Though he'd then beaten the crap out of her, which put him at the top of the list of dick boyfriend of the year awards. Then again after spending the night with Miner and getting all cozy she had deserved what she'd gotten and more.
He shook his head, wanting to banish those thoughts from his head. Whatever had caused his increasingly odd behavior had clearly not been banished along with the madness, which suggested that the new inhibitor the most likely culprit, and that would not have been flushed from his system with a dose of Counteragent. Great, just fucking great.
"I have every reason not to trust her. She's a spy, and a damn good one."
Jarod frowned, not able to come up with a quick retort to that statement. "When she's with you she's not a spy, she's just Alyx. And she cares for you more than you could ever comprehend."
Darien felt his jaw clench, molars grinding against one another in his irritation. "She cares because she has no choice," he snarled, low and dangerous. He really didn't like the fact that after so short a time this... this interloper could think he had the slightest inkling about Alyx and her reasons for doing anything.
Jarod shook her head. "Look at her, battered and bruised and still she chose to lie next to you, the one who did the damage. She doesn't care, the bruises mean nothing in the grand scheme of things as far as she is concerned." He waved at the sleeping woman. "She is there because that's where she wants to be. No more. No less."
Part of Darien wanted to surge off the bed, fists and feet flailing in order to do the most damage possible to the rival sitting across the room, instead he sucked in a deep breath and blew it out slowly. He knew those thoughts and images were not part of his usual modis operandi, that whatever else the new inhibitor had screwed with it had clearly affected his judgment, especially where Alyx was concerned, but much like with the madness, he did not have to succumb, had learned through teeth gritting hard work that he could control it, and himself, if only to a certain degree. He would do that here. The problem was not Jarod, not Alyx, but Darien Fawkes, and he would deal with it. Even if it meant spending the majority of the trip home drugged.
"I think I need more than just the Counteragent," he groused, flopping back onto the bed with a sigh.
Jarod sat there silent for several minutes before asking, "Will you harm her again?"
Oh, now that was a very good question to which Darien had no solid answer. If she had been near Jarod... just the thought of that made red rage flare through him. He turned his head to look at her, still blissfully unaware of everything about her. He ran fingers along her cheek, the bruise standing out starkly against her pale skin. Part of him wanted to curl about her and snarl at Jarod, chase the rival away from what was his. "I don't think so," he finally said, sounding unconvinced even to his ears.
Jarod frowned. "Not good enough... and you know it."
Darien closed his eyes, wanting to scream that it was none of his business, but Jarod had clearly made it his business and would not back down based on the hard look adorning his features. "Yeah, I know," he agreed. "Just gimme a minute alone with her." When Jarod looked ready to argue, Darien added, "I promise I won't hurt her."
"And if you do?"
"You can beat me up and then knock me out for transport home," Darien offered in all seriousness.
"Fair enough." Jarod got to his feet, laptop in hand and left the room, only closing the door partway, not trusting Darien any more than he had to right now.
Darien rolled onto his side, head propped up so that he could look down at her. "I'm sorry, baby," he said softly.
She muttered something under her breath and snuggled in closer, pressing her face into his chest.
'Mine,' he thought, 'all mine.' And she was, he remained certain of that and yet... yet he still had doubts, serious ones apparently, given the way he'd gone after her last night. He buried a hand in her hair and tipped his head down to kiss her softly, then slipped away, leaving her alone in the bed.
She shifted about for a moment, looking for him in her drug-induced slumber, then settled, with a look of discontent on her face.
Resisting the need to lie back down next to her, he ran his hands through his hair and strode from the room, finding both Jarod and Hobbes waiting for him. "She's still asleep," he told them, "and if you haven't already you best call the Keep, whatever was affecting my emotional state still is, and I doubt we have anything on hand to fix it."
"Shit. Well, it ain't from the toxin then is it?" Hobbes grouched.
"Nope. A'course I may have simply gone off the deep end on my own, but given I was fine before the new inhibitor..." Darien trailed of in sudden realization that they were discussing very top secret issues in front of someone not cleared to know. "Who read you in?" Darien asked of Jarod.
"Uh, Alyx and then Hobbes. There were, let's just say, extenuating circumstances." Jarod didn't look the least bit smug or superior, which probably meant there wouldn't be an issue.
"No worries, Fawkes, we've traded secrets and planned to fill you in as soon as you were up for it." Hobbes turned to Jarod with a grin on his lips. "If your cover is solid enough the boss would be more than happy to add you to the team."
Darien blinked. "Did you just offer him a job at the Agency?"
"Yeah, Fawkes, I did." Hobbes crossed his arms over his chest, a stubborn look on his face.
"Alyx already did," Jarod added, making Darien want to punch him in the face. Jarod turned back to Hobbes. "It would not be a viable option at this time, but I do appreciate the offer... and the confidence." He managed a smile. "I would like to be able to call on you again for assistance should I need it."
"Anytime," Hobbes assured him. "Though you might want to go through channels if it's official business. If it's personal... just call."
"Hobbes, what the hell happened while I was out?" Darien couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this confused. Yeah, the drug had messed... was still messing with his brain, but when had this whole everyone loves Jarod thing happened? Okay, so Alyx had that snowed in night to chat the man up, but Hobbes... Darien sank into a chair. "I think my head hurts."
"Given you nearly hit Stage five, it probably should," Hobbes told him.
Okay, now that was disturbing. "Stage Five? But the symptoms..."
"Probably suppressed. Alyx suspects it was due an unforeseen chemical reaction from the new toxin inhibitor," Jarod explained, rattling off the information as if an expert on the whole gland/madness situation.
Darien huffed in frustration. "Is there anything you guys didn't tell him?" Once again he was feeling like a prize lab rat instead of a person. The one thing he hated the most and here not only were his partners doing it but a total stranger.
"Lots of things, Fawkes, trust me on that. Think you can sit and listen for a bit, we've got one hell of a story to tell?"
Darien rubbed his forehead and nodded. "Might as well, not like I have anyplace else to be."