... arms held down so painfully tight that no amount of struggling will move them... head aching, a pounding throb across my skull in time to the beat of my heart... raucous laughter... whispered endearments that cause only fear and anger... the feel of cold, rough flooring under my back... a moment of clarity allowing but a single murderous thought...
Darien jerked awake with a gasp, staring blindly at the wooden canopy of the bed, heart racing, and cold sweat coating his skin. The dream, using that term loosely as it had been nothing more than blurred flashes, leaving echoes of pain and a deeply terrifying anger surging through his veins. Beside him, Alyx muttered something in her sleep and he suspected that the dream had been hers. Not the first time that had happened, but still weird. Wiping a hand across his face, he shifted slightly and looked at the clock just as the alarm started up with its mutant cricket chirp. With a grunt, he slapped it off and flipped the light on. That action did little to chase away the vivid imagery lingering in his mind and he suspected that the images dredged up had been from Alyx's attack... the one that Claire said she had no memory of. If true, then it was probably a good thing given the taste he'd just experienced. Though the fact that she'd shared said memories meant it wouldn't stay buried for long. And when that dam broke... Well, it wouldn't be good, that was for damned sure. Hopefully, she will have healed enough physically to handle the mental pain the memories would be certain to inflict.
Leaning over he kissed her lightly on the forehead and instantly froze in place. Not only was her skin decidedly cool, but clammy, just the things Claire warned him to watch for. Without a second's hesitation, he yanked down the blankets, lifted her shirt, and palpitated the area just below her ribs.
Alyx's left arm whipped about, grabbing his wrist, fingers sliding between bones and to the nerves there, forcing his hand to open without his command and make him yelp in pain. "Do you want me to severely injure you," she snarled, anger and pain mixing together in her voice.
He pried his hand from her grip, the fingers numb from her expert use of the Vulcan Nerve Pinch Mark II. "Does it hurt more or less than earlier?" he asked, his now uncoordinated hand returning to her side. The bruising was most definitely worse than just an hour ago and her entire side radiated a heat that was a marked contrast to the cooler temp of her forehead.
"You mean waking me up via pain inducement isn't your fun new way of getting your rocks off?" she snarked, head arching back as she whimpered in pain.
"Seriously, baby, more or less?" he persisted, applying pressure as Claire had instructed him earlier.
She groaned, her hand again whipping out, but this time her hold was gentle, what she currently felt coming though loud and clear. "More," she finally managed, teeth grit together.
"Could the pain meds be wearing off?"
"Nuh-uh," she mumbled. "Should be wearing off 'bout the time we hit the office in the a.m."
"Then we may have a problem, sweets." He tugged her shirt back into place and slid out of bed, hunting up clothes.
"Problem?" she echoed, the drugs doing their job as advertised and dragging her back under now that he wasn't making the various pain receptors flare with agony.
Darien came out of the bathroom buttoning his pants, cell phone to his ear. Claire answered after only two rings.
"This is the Keeper."
"Keep, we got a problem," Darien told her in an amazingly calm voice. He pulled the t-shirt on one-handed, only having to shift the phone for a couple seconds to complete the task, then stuffed his bare feet into the pair of sneakers hiding under the foot of the bed. He'd been looking for the pair for a couple days and had wondered where they'd scampered off to.
"Her side?" Claire asked, instantly awake.
"Yep," he answered as he crossed the room to open the door, as trying to do that with an armful of semi-conscious woman would be a challenge, the Agency baby-sitters both turning to look at him in confusion.
"All right, is she still conscious?"
"Yes," Darien confirmed. He'd moved back to the bed in preparation of carrying her out of the building and to wherever Claire wanted her brought. He curled a hand under Alyx's chin, her eyes opening to gaze blearily up at him.
"Good. Try to keep her awake and have one of the agents drive you to Leavitt. I will meet you there," Claire rattled off quickly and concisely, Bobby's voice a soft mutter in the background. "Do I need to remind you to stay calm?"
"No need, Keep. We're on our way." Darien snapped the phone shut and stuffed it into his back pocket.
"You'll be butt-dialing her all night doing that," Alyx informed him, a wan smile crossing her features.
"Least it's a nice butt." He helped her to roll onto her back and then, as gently as he could, picked her up. She gasped and bit her lip near-bloody during the actual lifting process. "Sorry, baby," he whispered into her hair. Carrying her as carefully as possible, he strode across the room and out the door to find Laughton and Weinberg waiting expectantly. "Leavitt," was all Darien had to say for them to spring into motion. Weinberg led the way while Laughton called for back-up to watch the apartment.
They tossed the red gumball on the roof and drove as fast as the convoluted maze of one-way streets would allow. So, in less than twenty minutes, they pulled up to the gate at Leavitt only to be waved right in. They'd obviously been expected. Alyx utterly failed to keep her eyes open, but he could feel she was still awake, every bump being transmitted through the car's lousy springs and into her body. He held her close and spoke soothing words, but doubted they did much good, her pain level increasing moment by moment regardless of the veracity of the current batch of painkiller.
They pulled up in front of the emergency entrance, an orderly swinging open the car door almost before it had come to a complete stop. Darien climbed out and carried her inside to be met with a horde of nurses pushing a gurney and Claire clearly in charge. She gave Darien a quick smile then began tossing off orders even as they whisked Alyx away through a set of flapping double doors.
Hobbes magically appeared at Darien's side. "She'll be fine, my friend."
"I hope so," Darien stated softly, worry stealing his voice from him.
Hobbes couldn't miss it if he'd tried. "Fawkes, it's probably just something minor." He grasped Darien by the arm and steered him towards a couple of uncomfortable-looking seats in an alcove. "Claire'll make sure the kid gets fixed up right."
Darien shook his head.
"What? You think the Keep don't know what she's doing?" Bobby questioned, borderline indignation in his tone.
"It's not that," Darien was quickly reassured his friend. He and the Keeper may have had their issues in the past, but most of them had been worked out. The inevitable Keeper/Kept relationship still required even if the line had been very much blurred with the changes that had taken place over the last few years. "I just got a bad feeling about this," he mumbled, ducking his head.
Bobby snorted in amusement. "You been watching the Star Wars Trilogy again, haven't ya?"
Darien lifted his head, a hint of a grin turning his lips upwards. It was true enough; he and Alyx had done the original trilogy a little over a week ago, their moods and time off meshing perfectly once again. Popcorn and space opera had made for a fun-filled day. "Maybe," he finally answered.
Bobby chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Our Princess will be just fine, my friend, and we will find out who did this."
Darien rubbed the back of his head, an odd hollow ache springing up for an instant that he recognized from the dream. "Bobby, I'm thinking..." he trailed off, not quite sure how to say what he wanted to say.
"Fawkes?" Hobbes gestured at the chairs and, after a second of hesitation, they sat, huddled together in an effort to keep the discussion to follow vaguely private. "What's up?"
"Had a weird dream..."
"One a'those dreams?"
Darien shook his head. "No... I don't think so anyway. I think it might have been her's... Alyx's."
Bobby nodded sagely. He knew about the whole accidental dream sharing thing, even though he didn't really understand the why or how of it. "And?"
"Keep told us Alyx is a big blank about what happened today... yesterday."
"Yep. But you think different."
"Yeah. Not that I'm saying she's lying, just that she's blocking the memory for whatever reason," Darien didn't want sound like he was accusing Alyx of anything, though it wouldn't be the first time she'd spun a tale in order to accomplish her goals, be they personal or work-related.
"A blow to the head'll do that to anyone, my friend. Wouldn't be the first time she's lost some time, y'know?" Bobby pointed out, the reminder gentle.
And true. Just prior to Chrysalis' reintroduction into their lives Alyx had taken a swung section of rebar to the side of the head that had wiped a good ten minutes from her memory and left her blind for several days. Darien pondered that situation and compared it to the existing one. Yeah, they had blows to the head in common, which could very well contribute to the memory issues, but he had the feeling there was a hell of a lot more to it than that.
"That's just it, I've a feeling it's not lost, just... blocked. Like it's something real bad that she doesn't want to remember," Darien explained, praying silently to that god he no longer believed in that he was wrong.
"Maybe that's all to the good, then. Our minds do shit like that to protect us. No matter how strong we think we are, sometimes there's stuff we just can't handle. This may be one'a those things the kid can't." Bobby's solemn tone hit Darien like a punch to the gut.
"What could be so bad that she'd... that her mind would try to protect her? Given the seven kinds of hell she's been through in her life, what could have happened..." A hand on his arm stopped him.
"Darien, whatever it is, we'll figure it out later. Worrying about it now doesn't do you or the kid a lick'a good." Bobby gave his partner a gimlet stare as if wanting to make certain his words were sinking in. "Get through this moment," he jabbed a finger at the cheap tile floor in emphasis, "then move onto the next."
Darien nodded in agreement, knowing his friend was right, but being driven by the urge to figure out the meaning of the dream and the worry churning in his gut now.
Claire magically appeared then, wearing a set of blue scrubs, complete with little hat and a mask dangling around her neck.
"Keep?" Bobby prompted, getting to his feet.
"Alyx is heading into surgery now." The anger in her voice surprised Darien, her lips drawn together in a tight line as if she wanted to rant and rave at them, but not having the time to do so.
"What's up?" Darien asked, hoping she'd spill enough to keep them from having to play the guessing game while waiting.
"Later," when she saw that go over like a ton of lead bricks she added, "I don't have time now, but I promise you'll get everything I know when she's stable."
"Stable?" Darien squeaked, his stomach dropping at least three floors below his shoes.
Claire sighed heavily. "She's bleeding internally as you surmised - good catch, by the way, probably saved her life - and I need to be in there to observe. And you are on standby in case we need... additional blood."
Darien caught her meaning instantly. Not only had Alyx been bleeding internally enough to need a transfusion, the supply Claire had most likely brought with her from the Agency might not be enough, meaning Darien would get to play donor, as he was the only readily available source with Quicksilver saturated blood. Risky to use him given Alyx's reaction to the toxin in his system, but miles less dangerous than giving her non-Quicksilvered blood. That would kill her in mere moments.
"Shit. That bad, Keepy?' Bobby asked, one hand coming up to rub across his near-bald pate.
"Yes, that bad," she confirmed. "Now, I must go. I'll be back out as soon as it's over." She set a hand on Darien's arm. "Try not to worry too much, you know how your emotional state affects hers."
Darien nodded wondering how the hell he was not supposed to worry while his... girl was in surgery, and major surgery at that. "I'll try."
"All I can ask." And with that she trotted off, back through the double doors and presumably to the OR where Alyx and a surgical team awaited her appearance.
Darien threw his hands in the air and stood, moving jerkily to pace the tiny space. "What the hell is going on now?" he asked of the air about him.
"Nothing good, at a bet. Maybe the ER doc missed something?" Bobby suggested. "Won't know till we see copies of the records, though."
Darien whipped about to face him. "Can we arrange that? Or does Claire have to?"
Bobby shrugged. "Only one way to find out," he answered pulling out his phone and dialing someone. "You go get us some coffee, real coffee if you can find it, we're gonna be here for a while."
Darien sighed, but nodded, knowing it was little more than busy work to keep his mind off what was currently happening somewhere within the building. He followed the signs that claimed to be leading him to the cafeteria, trying not to think about the fact someone was taking a very sharp instrument and slicing open Alyx, possibly at that very moment. He had to trust, something that had never been easy for him, trust that Claire would allow nothing bad to happen, trust that the surgical team hastily tossed together knew what they were doing, trust that all the contingencies that could be covered had been and that no complications would arise due to Alyx's weird metabolism and unique medical requirements.
In some random hallway, that he wasn't even certain would lead him where he wasn't sure he was going, he stopped and found a wall for support, the strength in his legs suddenly draining away as realization hit. I could lose her tonight. That whatever efforts they went to in that OR could fail and that he could be greeting the coming dawn without ever seeing her again. Without having ever really told her how much he cared about her... how much he loved her. Yeah, the words had slipped past his lips once or twice, most often when under the spell of Quicksilver Madness and therefore not to be believed by anyone, especially her, or most vividly in a desperate effort to keep her from completing a suicide attempt.
Because I won't lose another person I care about. Someone I... I love.
He'd meant the words, but she'd been so lost in her own despair that he had never been certain if she'd heard them, much less understood, what he had said. Somehow, someway even after all the things he'd been through he'd fallen in love with Alyx Silver the first time he'd gazed into those bottomless silver eyes of hers. Oh, not that he'd admitted to it, even to himself, for a long time. Just blew off that deeper emotion, focusing on the lust and desire that rode along the surface, terrified to admit even to himself, a hardened, jaded ex-thief and ex-con, that he could, after being emotionally damaged so many times, be dealt a hand of love at first sight was simply absurd.
Yet here he was, years later, still wanting her, still needing her, still in love with her, and fully cognizant of that fact.
Somewhere, on some fluffy throne-bearing cloud, God was surely pointing and laughing, probably amazed that Darien had figured this out at all.
Darien slid down the wall, knees drawn up to his chest, a hand raking through his hair, distress easily visible on his countenance by anyone who might walk by, not that there was much traffic in these hallways at oh-dark-hundred, military hospital or not. This was when all good boys and girls should be sound asleep and tucked into their beds. That was where he wanted to be right now. Tucked into bed, his or hers didn't matter, never had, curled about her, her warm body pressed up against his, the feel of her skin on his, the scent of her, the slow steady breath, all of it. He wanted it, today and forever.
Wanted everything to be all right, to be normal. As normal as things ever were with their beyond crazy lives.
On second thought, no, he wanted normal. Real normal. No gland, no super powers, no Agency. Just him and her as two ordinary people, with ordinary, boring, safe jobs and none of this God and Country crap that forced them to risk their lives on a daily basis. Wanted an ordinary life that would be anything but with her in it to brighten his days and challenge his mind.
Feeling tears threatening, he brought the heels of both hands to his eyes, hoping to force them back with the pressure. Why had he gone and let himself open up to anyone? Why had he, like a fucking fool, taken the risk to care about her given his track record? Everyone of importance around him died or left. All of them. Why?
He knew the answer... the excuse. He hadn't let her in, she'd been shoved on him all unwillingly and he'd gone and fallen for the 'Fish's ploy along with her. He hated that. Hated that the Official had known him so very well even after only a short time and knew exactly how to play him. And the man had. Had planned the whole thing out months in advance, Darien's crash and burn with Stage Five had only added fuel to the fire and made it so much easier for the Official. Darien would have grabbed onto just about anything at that point, any lifeline tossed his way. It just so happened to come in the form of a young-looking, powerfully gifted redhead who was twice as smart as she was beautiful.
The Official could have encouraged Bobby or the Keeper to make a move, but instead relied on Darien's continued slide into depression to work in his favor by showing that there could be someone worse off, could be someone who hated the situation just as much, and who would possibly grab onto a lifeline of her own. Gave Darien someone who would understand and sympathize with the hell everyday life had become. Only it had worked too well, perhaps.
As ordinary people, the two of them would never... He derailed that train of thought, knowing they had met, years before, as kids. A weird twist of happenstance that seemed to occur regularly with those associated with the Agency. Oh, the questions Darien would ask of his Uncle Peter, or Kevin had they survived to this point. Questions that the Official, the only other possible source of information, would surely refuse to listen to even if he actually had all the answers.
There were days he'd wished they'd never met, days where loving her had caused nothing but a huge ache throughout his body, mind, and soul, days when the mere thought of her brought nothing but pain and anguish. Yet, still he loved her.
Stupid, maybe, but there it was.
Sometime later Bobby found him there and, much to Darien's surprise, instead of admonishing him for sitting there wallowing in darkness and despair, he simply sat down beside his friend, handed him a cup of coffee, and joined in the silence.