Disclaimer - "Mystery Case Files" and all related characters, events, and concepts belong to Big Fish Games, Elephant Games, and Eipix Entertainment. I get no monetary benefit from this. My benefit is the enjoyment of dealing with beloved characters. Original characters, however, are mine - please contact for permission before using. This includes Darnell as a defined, fleshed-out character in his own right.

Aftermath
by DragonDancer5150

Chapter 7 - Claimed

Thomas followed Darnell out of the room, closing the door behind them. "Do you believe her?"

"Do you?"

Thomas paused, frowning at the door, then puffed out the breath he'd held. "Against my better judgment, but . . . yeah, mate. If I'm honest, I have to say I do."

"Alister did this. She may have been the instrument, but nothing she did was of her own accord. Her behavior now proves it. His hold on her is broken. Her body may still be a physical adult, but her mind, her personality, her very self has reverted back to her original self, her child self. She's not responsible for anything she did."

"Try telling that to the constables. Darnell, they have video proof of her breaking into Manchester Asylum and killing those orderlies. Not to mention being suspect in the disappearance of her husband Benedict and pretty much everyone who worked on the Ravenhearst restoration."

"I know, but-!" Darnell ran a hand back through his hair, thinking. He looked up at Thomas. "I can't just leave her here."

"You're going to have to, detective."

"Thomas, I'm all she has left!"

Thomas looked at him for a long moment, and Darnell couldn't read what was going on in his eyes. Finally, the officer looked at the door again, his shoulders sagging. "No, mate," he murmured. "You're not." He looked at Darnell. "We are." At Darnell's confused frown, he shook his head. "You're not the one who failed that poor girl. I did. Or anyway, the Agency did. You remember me telling them that they were safe now?"

"This isn't your fault, Thomas-"

"And it's not yours either." Thomas huffed another sigh. "I'm just the one who has to clean up the mess."

Darnell felt both apologetic and appreciative at that. "You should be used to that by now." His agent handler had covered for him on things enough times. Just last night, most recently.

Thomas gave him a crooked grin. "I ought to let them lock you back up in that nuthouse, kid. Get you out of my hair but good."

Darnell knew Thomas was only teasing, but the thought of having to go back to the asylum made him shudder with very real horror nonetheless. He was hugging himself before he realized what he was doing. "Don't even joke about that, Blackwell. That place is an inhuman nightmare. I can't believe such a medieval horror even still exists in this day and age of modern mental health medicine. It should be torn down!"

Thomas frowned, realizing his mistake. He gave Darnell's shoulder a supportive squeeze. "Easy, easy . . . sorry, that was incredibly poor form. Forget I said it."

"If I never set foot in this entire province again, it'll be too soon."

"Can't say I blame you. Go stay with Charlotte while I make a few phone calls, see what strings I can pull."

"Thanks, Thomas."

Thomas gave him a wry grin. "Thank me after I actually manage to pluck a helpful string. Go on."

Darnell nodded and headed back into the interrogation room. Charlotte looked up at him, fear and question in her eyes. Darnell pulled a chair around next to her. She leaned into him when he sat down, and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Officer Blackwell is making some phone calls. He'll come in and let us know when he has some news."

Charlotte nodded and curled against him. After a moment, she shifted as if remembering something. "Grandfather marked you too . . . didn't he?"

Darnell frowned as he looked at her. "Marked me?" He thought uneasily of the brand on his arm.

Charlotte sat up, unbuttoned the cuff around her right wrist, and pulled the sleeve up to expose the inside of her forearm. Darnell stared in shock at the stylized raven skull branded there. She traced her fingers down the long, wicked beak. "Gwennie has one too, and Grandfather said he was going to mark you as well, to tie you to him like we were. Us because we're family, but you he just . . . he wanted to punish. For besting him at the carnival and in Dire Grove."

Darnell hesitated, then pulled back from her, lifted his own sleeve, and began unwinding the bandaging that wrapped him from palm to just short of his elbow. Charlotte's hand went to her mouth with a soft "oh!" as the detective's brand came more and more into view with each pass of the winding bandage.

When he was done, Charlotte delicately touched the brand, then brushed her fingertips next to the gash in the heel of his palm. "Is this . . . from the Ball of Fate?"

"Yup, from the shard that hit me when things blew up. The one that went into the storage room when I got transferred to the asylum from the hospital."

New tears slipped down the young woman's cheeks. "I'm sorry, Mister Darnell. I'm so sorry he hurt you. That we hurt you."

Darnell wrapped his near arm around her again, snugging her to him as he kissed her temple. "It's over now. It's in the past, and I don't blame you for any of it, Char. Alister's the one who did all this. To both of us. And he's gone for good now. He can't hurt me or you ever again."

Charlotte nodded and huddled back into his side, one hand fisted loosely on his shirt.

It was nearly an hour before the door opened once more. Thomas paused to take in the sight before moving to sit down across from the two, addressing Charlotte. "I need to get Master Detective Barrett back to London and get some things straightened out for him. That may take as long as into tomorrow. But I will be back, day after at the latest. I'll be bringing another officer of the Royal Agency with me who believes he can help with your case."

"Wordlaw?"

Thomas gave Darnell a nod. Albert Wordlaw was the Royal Agency's foremost expert on hypnosis, drug-induced compulsion, and other forms of persuasion, manipulation, and brainwashing. He was a dour skeptic when it came to the paranormal, but he was a dedicated operative and very good at what he did.

Darnell looked at Charotte. "Officer Wordlaw is a good man. If anyone can help you, he can. I'll be back, too."

"No, you will not." Thomas's firm tone startled Darnell. The look on the agent handler's face brooked no argument. "You will stay home to rest and recover from this ordeal while your cards and your badge and all the rest of your identification are replaced. You'll work on your reports for the agency and for Her Majesty."

Darnell exchanged looks with Charlotte, not wanting to abandon her, but he knew Thomas was right. At length, he gave a reluctant nod.

Thomas's tone softened. "I'll look after her, Darnell. You have my word."

Darnell looked at Charlotte. She was still visibly scared, but she'd calmed down and was gazing at Thomas, trusting and reassured. Darnell nodded at his friend. "I know you will. Thank you, Thomas."