By Carol M.

See prologue for details

Note: Sorry this took a little longer, but I’ve had the midterms from hell and graduate school applications to contend with. Now that all that crap’s done, I’ll be posting more frequently. Enjoy the next part!

"Watch out for the glass, Albert," said Claire as she and Eberts entered the Keep through the blown out door with Darien held protectively in their arms. They set him down carefully on the counteragent chair, where he quickly regained consciousness.

"Claire," panted Darien. "It hurts," he whispered.

Claire ran a hand through his hair. "I know it hurts, Darien. I’m going to make it better," she said calmly.

Eberts stepped aside, glancing at Darien with a look of fear on his face. "What can I do to help?" he asked.

"Stay out of my way," was Claire’s terse response as she reached for a syringe and stepped to Darien.

Darien instantly tried to shrink away from the needle. "No, no more. Please, no more."

Claire gave him a sympathetic look. "I just have to draw a little blood and see how much of the drug is still in your system. I’ll try not to hurt you," she said softly.

Eberts stepped to Darien’s side and grabbed his hand. "It’ll be okay, Darien," he whispered in a comforting tone.

Claire gave Eberts a grateful look and then carefully inserted the needle into Darien’s arm. Darien winced and closed his eyes, gripping Eberts’ hand tightly in his own. A few minutes later, Claire removed the needle and took out the vial of blood. She smeared a drop of the blood on a glass slide and went to look at it under her microscope like she had done earlier that morning.

Eberts stayed by Darien’s side, holding his hand and whispering reassurances in his ear. Darien’s eyes remained closed, his face taking on a pasty white pallor that was soaked with sweat.

"Bloody hell," said Claire after a few minutes of examining the blood.

"What did you find?" asked Eberts.

"The drug is attaching itself to the quicksilver in his system causing the drug to multiply as the quicksilver levels in his blood go up," said Claire.

"What do we do?" asked Eberts.

"I don’t know," said Claire dejectedly. She eyed her refrigerator and a light bulb seemed to turn on in her brain. "What if I used the counteragent?"

"The counteragent?" said Eberts.

"It’s not as effective as it used to be, but it was still filling the snake half-way before the suicide gene. I could flush some of the quicksilver out of his body and maybe stop the drug from multiplying," said Claire.

Eberts was about to respond when he heard a horrific scream of pain come out of Darien’s mouth. The scream was followed by harsh gagging noises, and then suddenly, there was nothing. Eberts looked down and noticed that Darien was very still. Too still. "Doctor, I think Darien stopped breathing!" he said in a panic.

Claire dashed over to Darien and confirmed Eberts’ fear. "Eberts, I need you to do chest compressions for me."

Eberts nodded and moved down the chair, putting his hands firmly over Darien’s chest.

"Start the compressions," ordered Claire. "One, two, three, four, five." She took all of her air and blew it into Darien’s mouth. "Come on, Darien, breathe, fight it," she said as she watched Eberts’ hands press firmly down on Darien’s chest once again.

"Breathe, Darien," said Eberts as he did a compression and then watched Claire give air to Darien. "One, two, three, four, five," he whispered as he started the compressions again.

"Darien, please, fight this," cried Claire. She once again breathed into his mouth, trying to literally breathe the life back into him.

They suddenly heard a wet rattling sound, followed by several coughs. Claire looked down at Darien’s chest and saw it begin to rise and then shakily fall. She leaned over and gave him a small hug in relief. "Oh thank god," she said. "Eberts, there’s an oxygen tank in the corner. Go get it," she said as caressed the side of Darien’s face.

Eberts nodded and returned seconds later with the oxygen tank. Claire took it from him and activated the tank. She placed the attached mask over Darien’s face and secured it behind his head. "Just breathe, Darien. All you have to do is breathe," she whispered in his ear.

Although Darien was unconscious and could not verbally respond, the steadier sounds of his breathing assured Claire that he indeed had heard her. She looked up at Eberts and nodded towards Darien. "Watch him," she said.

Eberts nodded and once again grabbed Darien’s hand.

Claire stepped over to the refrigerator and began sorting through the various vials of chemicals she kept on the top shelf. She pulled out several vials and took them over to her desk. "I’m going to give him a series of small injections. Flushing the chemicals out of his system all out once would probably be too much of a shock to his system. It might kill him," she said as she began to concoct the formula that she knew by heart.

"How long before it’s ready?" asked Eberts.

"A hour, maybe two for the first injection. Hopefully we can keep him stable until then," said Claire.

Eberts looked down at Darien and patted him on the shoulder. "Hang in there, Darien, hang in there."

**

Bobby could not believe what he was hearing. "So let me get this straight, ma’am. You saw eight armed men walk out of the building and you didn’t think to call the police or do anything?" shouted Bobby. He stared down in anger at the petite blonde woman who was sitting on the sidewalk outside the Harding Building.

The woman shook her head. "No," she answered meekly.

Bobby was fuming. He pointed up at the building. "My partner...my best friend is in there fighting for his life because of those men and you didn’t do anything? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?" he asked incredulously.

Small tears started to pour down the woman’s face. "No," she sobbed.

"Hobbes," said Alex sharply as she stepped up from behind him. She glanced down at the woman with a gentle expression on her face. "Did you happen to see where the men went?" she asked.

The woman pointed across the street. "They got in some cars," she sniffled.

Bobby stepped closer to her. "What kind of cars?"

"A red one and a white one," she said, her sobs starting to die down.

Alex knelt down next to the woman. "Do you happen to remember the make or the model? A license plate number maybe?"

The woman shook her head.

Bobby rolled his eyes. "Look lady, if you don’t start cooperating, and I mean real quick, I’ll have every federal…

"Bobby," Alex interrupted, glancing up at Bobby with a warning expression.

Bobby stopped for a moment and tried to regain some composure. He took a deep breath and looked back at the woman. "What about the explosion? You had to see that, right?"

"No," said the woman.

Bobby shook his head. "Yeah, there’s glass all over the freakin street, but you didn’t see anything. Neither did the twenty other people who were standing out here. Lucky none of you got your asses blown to bits," said Bobby, throwing his hands up in frustration.

Alex stood back up and pushed Bobby towards the doorway of the Agency. "Hobbes, you need to calm down, okay. These people are frightened. Hell, Thornton probably threatened them. The point is, you’re not going to get anywhere with these witnesses if you’re yelling at them and scaring them even more."

Bobby took a deep breath and nodded, blinking back tears. "Okay, Monroe. What about you? What does your brilliant plan entail? How are we going to get this guy?"

"We contact every lowlife we can find and get someone to talk. Somebody’s got to know something. The street value of that disk is too high to keep a secret," said Alex. She realized that Bobby seemed to be off in his own world. "Hey, are you listening?"

Bobby’s eyes blinked and he gazed up at her. "Hmmmm? Oh…yeah."

Alex put her hand on Bobby’s shoulder. "Hobbes, he’s gonna be all right. Fawkes is a tough son of a bitch."

"Yeah," said Bobby in an unconvinced tone.

"Look, let’s just get out of here and go get the bad guys." Alex glanced up at the building. "There’s nothing we can do for Darien right now anyway," she added softly, trying to ignore the torturous images that were flashing through her mind.

"You’re wrong, Monroe. There’s plenty of things I could do. Hell, plenty of things I could’ve done…should’ve done," whispered Bobby in a harsh tone.

"Hobbes, you’ve gotta get a grip. Let’s end this right now. We’ll get Thornton and we’ll get the disk back. I’m sure if anything happens with Darien, Claire will let us know," she said as she nodded towards the Agency parking lot. "Now come on, I’m driving."

Bobby rubbed his forehead with his hand and started following Alex down the sidewalk. He glanced up at the Harding Building as he walked and sighed heavily. "I’m sorry, partner," he murmured to himself.

**

Claire tried to regard her shivering patient on the counteragent chair with as much detachment as possible, but found the task to be easier said than done. Darien had regained consciousness an hour earlier and had been whimpering loudly in pain for every second of it. "Okay, Darien, I need you to relax," she said as she held up a syringe filled with counteragent.

"What’s that?" asked Darien in a pain-filled voice, eyeing the syringe.

"It’s counteragent. I think it’ll help with the pain and help reduce the amount of EL6 in your system," said Claire as she glanced up at Eberts. "Albert, help me."

Eberts nodded and once again stepped beside the counteragent chair. He firmly grasped Darien’s hand and noticed with slight concern that Darien’s grip was much weaker than it had been even two hours earlier.

Claire took a deep breath and looked at Darien. "Here it goes," said Claire as she slowly guided the syringe towards his arm.

Darien weakly attempted to thrash around as the needle got closer. "Please don’t hurt me," he whispered in a tiny voice.

The request was so raw and so honest that it brought tears to Claire’s eyes. She set down the needle and gently took Darien’s face into her hands, gazing deep into his fear-filled puppy dog eyes. "I’m not going to hurt you, Darien, I promise. You said before that you trusted me. Trust me now," she said softly.

A single tear fell from Darien’s left eye, which Claire promptly wiped away with her finger. He swallowed a painful lump in his throat and then nodded slowly. "Okay," he whispered. "Do what you have to do," he said in the bravest voice he could muster.

Claire nodded slightly and picked up the needle again. She wiped the crook of his arm with alcohol and then inserted the needle into his vein as gently as possible. "I’m injecting you now, Darien." She pressed down on the plunger and held her breath.

For a few moments, nothing happened. Then, Darien’s body suddenly arched up and he began to convulse violently. Eberts and Claire instantly reached for his shoulders so he wouldn’t hurt himself. After a few more seconds, Darien let out a loud moan and then collapsed unconscious back against the chair. Eberts shuddered in concern. "Is he alright?"

Claire pressed her hand against Darien’s neck and found his pulse to be weak, but steady. "Yeah, she whispered as she let out the breath she had been holding. She reached for a syringe and once again took Darien’s blood. She put the new sample on a slide and walked over to the microscope. Eberts watched her intently and a moment later sighed in relief when Claire looked up and gave him a huge smile.

"It’s working. The counteragent is slowly reducing the amounts of EL6 in his blood. In a few days, the drug should be completely out of his system," she said as she glanced over at Darien and smiled. "Barring any complications, I think he’s going to be okay."

Eberts’ face broke out into a huge smile. "Wonderful news, doctor."

"Yes indeed," they heard a voice say from behind them.

They both turned around and saw the Official standing in the damaged doorway. "How long before he’s ready for duty?" asked the Official in a gruff tone.

Claire put her hands on her hips and sighed. "Is that all you care about?"

The Official clenched his jaw. "I repeat, how long before he’s ready for duty?"

Claire rolled her eyes in anger. "A month, maybe two. His body will have to recover from the effects of the drug, not too mention the psychological ramifications. He’s going to be bed ridden for at least the next couple of weeks."

"Fine," said the Official. He glanced over at Eberts. "Eberts, we have work to do."

"But sir, don’t you think I should stay and help the doctor?" asked Eberts in a slightly confused tone.

"You’re needed elsewhere right now. Besides, it looks like she has things under control," he said as he looked at Darien’s unconscious form.

Claire stared in disbelief at the Official. "You don’t even care, do you? Darien almost died today, sir," she said angrily.

"Doctor, right now I’m more concerned about getting back a certain disk that could risk millions of lives. Darien Fawkes is the least of my problems," said the Official. "Eberts, let’s go."

Eberts nodded hesitantly and glanced at Claire. "If you need any help or need me to stay here tonight, let me know," he said softly.

Claire nodded in appreciation. "Thank you, Albert. It’s nice to know that at least one other person cares about Darien’s well being."

Eberts gave her a small smile and then followed the Official out the door.

Claire stared after them for a few seconds and then her gaze drifted to Darien. She took the chair from her desk and rolled it next to the counteragent chair. She then sat down and looked at his face, noting how young and vulnerable he looked. She leaned down and kissed him on the forehead. "I’ll get you through this, Darien. I promise." She then grasped his hand into her own and began to wait patiently for him to wake up.

"Hobbes, take it easy!" yelled Alex in anger as she watched Bobby raise a hand to punch one of his Hobbesnet informants. The kid couldn’t have been any older than 20 and his eyes projected a complete and total fear of a pissed off Bobby Hobbes.

"You know something, I know you do. Just remember who got your drug violation reduced, my friend, remember that, punk?" yelled Bobby. He grabbed the kid by the collar and bashed him against the brick wall of the kid’s crappy apartment. "Your ass would be in jail right now if it weren’t for my divine intervention. I’m sure the ole’ boys would love a sweet young thing like you!"

The kid started to sob uncontrollably. "Look man, I already told you, I don’t know nothing! I’m just working at the plant, trying to get my life back on track, that’s all, dude!" he cried.

Alex stepped behind Bobby and put her hand on his shoulder. Bobby swung around wildly and brought up his fist to hit the offender touching his shoulder. "Whoa, Hobbes…Bobby, it’s me, it’s just me," said Alex in surprise.

Bobby’s gaze softened and his hand lowered back down to his side. "Sorry," he whispered. He had completely forgotten she was there. He shook his head and glanced back at the kid. "Give me a name, or your history, pal," said Bobby in a menacing tone.

The kid wiped at his face and tried to catch his breath. "Chazz Buckley," he responded.

"Is he a buddy of yours?" asked Bobby as he put an arm around the kid.

The kid nodded. "Yeah, man. That dude knows everything going down in this city."

Alex cleared her throat and looked at the kid. "Where can we find this guy?"

"Corner store on 7th and Main. He hangs out back," said the kid.

Bobby let the kid go and put his finger up menacingly. "If I find out your lying, I’ll come back here and have you busted back into jail so fast you won’t know the inmates from the prison guards."

Alex grabbed at Bobby’s arm and pulled him towards the door. "Hobbes, let’s go."

Bobby looked back at the kid and pointed his finger once again. "I’ll be watching you, my friend. Remember that."

The kid nodded and then sank down to the floor in relief.

Alex dragged Bobby out of the apartment and led him down the stairwell that would take them back to the street. Bobby dragged his feet and looked at the ground as they walked.

When they got to the car, Alex quickly got in the driver’s seat of the Corvette and Bobby sank down in the passenger’s seat. Alex was about to start the car when Bobby abruptly stopped her. "I’m sorry, Monroe, I was out of line back there," said Bobby sincerely.

A small smiled crept on Alex’s face. "What good’s a partner if you can’t slug them every once in awhile," she said teasingly.

A cloud formed on Bobby’s face and Alex instantly knew she had said the wrong thing. "I know I’m not your partner. But for now, just pretend like I am."

Bobby snorted softly and then smiled. "You sure you want to be my partner, partner?" he asked.

"Wouldn’t have it any other way," said Alex as she put the key in the ignition and started the car. "Now come on, let’s go find Mr. Buckley."

Bobby nodded and relaxed into the seat.

Alex pulled out onto the street and took a left at the first stop light, heading towards Main Street.

"We’ve gotta get this guy, Monroe," said Bobby suddenly.

Alex nodded. "Yeah, I’m sure the government would appreciate getting their top secret disk back."

"Not just for the disk, Alex. For Fawkes," said Bobby.

Alex glanced over at him with a confident expression on her face. "As Bobby Hobbes would say, no worries, my friend."

Bobby’s face broke out into a full-blown smile. "You’ve got some nerve there, Monroe. Mocking me like that when my emotions are on the fritz."

"Somebody’s got to keep you in line," said Alex as she drove on.

Bobby was about to respond with a witty comment when his cell phone started to ring. He reached into his jacket and quickly answered. "Hobbes…Keep…oh god, he’s dead isn’t he?" said Bobby with worry.

Alex eyed him in fear. "Is Darien okay?"

"What?" said Bobby into the phone. He let out a huge sigh of relief. "Oh thank god…oh thank god," he said as he covered the phone with his hand and glanced at Monroe. "Fawkes is gonna make it."

Alex smiled. "I told you," she said happily.

Bobby uncovered the phone. "Take care of him, Claire. Monroe and I are going after Thornton. Yeah… you too…bye." Bobby hung up the phone and let out a long sigh of relief. "He’s alive. He’s bad, but he’s alive. Keep said he should be okay in a month or two."

"Feel better now?" asked Alex as she pulled onto Main Street.

Bobby thought for a moment and shook his head. "No, not even close," he said finally.

Alex nodded. "Me neither."

**

Claire put the phone back in the cradle and glanced at Darien. He looked like he was finally coming around. She could see his eyes moving under his lids and his body twitched every couple of seconds. She dashed to his side and sat back down in her chair. "Darien, open your eyes for me," she said encouragingly.

Her response was a muffled groan.

"Come on, sweetheart, open your eyes," said Claire.

Darien’s eyelids started to flutter rapidly and after a few seconds, a pair of tired looking brown eyes were glancing up at her. Darien tried to sit up but found that he could barely move. "Easy, easy," said Claire as she pressed a firm hand against her chest. "You’re going to be okay, Darien. I’m using the counteragent as a way to flush the drug out of your system. You’re probably going to be in pain for a few more days until the drug is completely gone from your blood."

As if on cue, Darien started to whimper. He frantically pointed at his legs. "Ouchie, ouchie," he moaned as the pain in his legs flared up to an almost unbearable level.

Claire clutched Darien’s shoulders and held him while he started to shake with the pain. "It’s okay, it’s okay. I think I’m going to give you another shot of the counteragent."

Darien’s head started to shake back and forth violently. "No more shots," he hoarsed out.

Claire sighed. "Darien, I have to, it’s the only thing making you better. It might even help with the pain," she said as she reached for a syringe that she had already filled with counteragent.

"How many?" whispered Darien.

"A miniscule dose every two hours," said Claire sympathetically.

Darien glanced at his arms and winced as another pain shot through his leg. "Well, I guess I’m going to be getting my track marks back," he gasped.

"Easy, Darien," she said as she began rubbing his leg for lack of anything better to do. "A shot every two hours for two days. Then it’ll be over. The drug should be out of your system by the end of the week and you’ll be on the road to recovery."

"Great," he whispered sarcastically. He looked up at her and then looked at the needle. "Stick me."

Claire nodded her head and picked up the needle. She wiped the crook of his elbow with an alcohol wipe and then glanced up at Darien’s fear-filled eyes. "Relax, I’m not going to hurt you."

Darien nodded hesitantly, but couldn’t stop his body from shaking in fear.

Claire ignored the small tremors and carefully inserted the needle into his vein, pressing down on the plunger and releasing the counteragent into his system. His reaction was not as violent as before. He arched up and then fell back against the chair, passing out. About a minute later, he woke up again.

Claire pointed to his legs. "Any better?" she asked.

Darien thought for a minute and then nodded. "Yeah," he whispered.

"Good," said Claire with a smile. "How about we move you into a bed?" she suggested.

Darien shook his head. "I want to go home. I don’t want to be here," he answered.

"Two days, Darien. Let me give you the injections and then I promise, you can go home on one condition," said Claire.

Darien weakly raised his eyebrow. "What’s that?"

"I’m staying with you," she said firmly.

"You mean like, living with me?" he asked curiously.

"Yes," said Claire. "Just for the next couple of weeks. Believe me, Darien, you’re going to need somebody with you. Once this drug leaves your system, your body is going to be completely worn out."

A small smile crept on Darien’s face. "You know Keep, if you really wanted to stay with me, all you had to do was ask. You didn’t have to go to all this trouble."

Claire laughed. "I’m glad to see your sense of humor has returned."

"Yeah well, give me a few days. I’m sure it’ll be leaving pretty quick," said Darien as he struggled to look around the lab. "How’s Hobbes? Was he down here when I was out before?"

Claire shook her head. "Bobby and Alex are trying to track down Thornton and get the disk back on the Official’s orders."

A slight look of hurt washed over Darien’s face. "Oh," he said softly.

"Hey," said Claire as she reached under Darien’s chin. "I’m sure Bobby will come and see you once he and Alex get Thornton."

Darien nodded. "Yeah."

Claire gave him a look of concern. "Darien, maybe we should talk about what happened."

Darien shook his head. "No, it’s cool, I’m fine," he said curtly. "You were saying something about a…owwww," Darien yelped as a brief flash of pain tore through his stomach, "bed," he gasped out.

"Yeah. We’ll move you into Lab Two," said Claire sympathetically as she reached for her phone. She quickly took it off the cradle and dialed. "Eberts, this is Claire. Can you come down for a moment and help me get Darien into Lab Two?"

Darien struggled to sit up. "I can walk," he said as he tried to plant his feet on the ground. Unfortunately, the world seemed to start spinning at that moment and Darien had to close his eyes against the vertigo. "Aw crap," he whispered as he felt his stomach rumble.

"Eberts, now, please," yelled Claire into the phone. She quickly hung up and ran to Darien. "What, what’s wrong?" she asked with worry.

"I’m gonna be…" Darien threw up before he could finish the sentence, nailing both of Claire’s shoes. "Oh god," he murmured a few seconds later. He glanced down at her shoes and then shot her the puppy dog eyes. "I’m so sorry," he whispered apologetically.

Claire kicked her shoes off with her feet and then helped Darien lay back against the counteragent chair. "It’s okay, Darien, you’re sick, you can’t help it," she said in understanding.

She went to the sink for a moment and returned to his side with a wet paper towel. She began wiping off the sweat that was glistening on his face.

"Thanks," he murmured. "When all of this is over, I’m going to buy you a whole new wardrobe."

Claire smiled. "You’re lucky I have fairly strong stomach, otherwise I would be puking all over you."

"Believe me, I wouldn’t blame you," said Darien.

"Is everything all right?" asked Eberts as he dashed into the Keep. He eyed the vomit on the floor for a moment and then glanced up at Darien.

"Yes, Eberts, Darien just got sick. Can you help me move him into the other lab?" said Claire.

"Of course, doctor," said Eberts.

"There’s a stretcher in storage. Go get it and then we can transfer him," said Claire.

Eberts nodded and walked back out the door.

Claire turned back to Darien. "We’ll get you settled and then you can sleep for awhile," she said as she ran a hand through his hair.

"Sounds like a plan," said Darien.

"Maybe later you can try and eat something," said Claire.

Darien glanced at the vomit on the floor and shook his head. "Don’t think that’s going to be happening anytime soon there, Claire."

Claire smiled and looked up as Eberts returned with the stretcher. He rolled the stretcher so it was adjacent to the counteragent chair. "Okay, I’ll get his legs, you get his arms," said Claire to Eberts.

They both got into position and carefully lifted Darien’s lanky body onto the stretcher. Then Claire and Eberts both pushed the stretcher through the Keep, out in the hallway and into Lab Two. By the time they reached the bed, Darien was on the verge of falling asleep.

"Okay, on 3…1…2…3," said Claire. She and Eberts once again lifted Darien and transferred him into the bed. Claire pulled the sheets out from under him and wrapped them over his body. "I’ll wake you in two hours, Darien."

"’Kay," murmured Darien. Within seconds, he was fast asleep.

**

"Well if it isn’t Chazz in the flesh," said Bobby as he eyed a lanky red-haired man in his late twenties. He was smoking a cigarette in the back alley of the Central convenience store.

Chazz eyed Bobby suspiciously and then his gaze drifted to Alex, who was standing behind Bobby. "You cops or something?" he asked.

"Or something," said Alex sarcastically.

"What do you want?" asked Chazz.

Bobby took out his gun and cocked it. "A little info."

Chazz swallowed hard and eyed the gun. "What kind of info?"

Alex raised an eyebrow. "A little info about a disk and the men who stole it."

"I don’t know what you’re talking about," said Chazz.

"Well my .35 caliber colt says differently," said Bobby as he tore the cigarette out of Chazz’s hand and pushed him against the brick wall of the alley. He put the gun to Chazz’s head. "Remember now?"

Chazz nodded. "Oh yeah, I think I heard something about that."

"Like what?" asked Alex as she stepped beside him.

"My friend Vore, he’s been bragging for weeks about some fancy smancy heist involving some top secret government disk. Said he was going to be a millionaire," said Chazz.

Bobby pressed the gun harder against Chazz’s head. "And?" he said roughly.

"And…and…he told me about some deal. Supposed to go down tonight at some abandoned airport hanger," said Chazz.

"Which one?" asked Bobby.

Chazz closed his eyes.

"Which one?" yelled Bobby in anger.

"Seagull Air, it’s just outside of town," screamed Chazz in fear.

Bobby took the gun away from his head and patted him on the shoulder. "See. That wasn’t so tough, my friend."

Chazz let out a sigh of relief and sagged against the wall.

Bobby turned his head to look at Alex. "Seagull Air, my dear?"

Alex smiled and waved her hand towards her car. "After you, Mr. Hobbes."

The pair quickly got back to the car and sped off, leaving a long, smoking skid mark in their tracks.

HOME