Sacrifices (7/?)

By Carol M.

See prologue for details

Note: Got this part out a little quicker than expected and decided to post it today. WARNING, this part is VERY intense. That’s all I’ll say. Enjoy it, folks!

Alex pulled her Corvette into the back of the airfield, taking care not use her lights in the pitch black of night. She and Bobby exited the car as quietly as possible, not even letting the car doors shut. About 200 feet in front of them was the hanger. Two cars were already parked in front of it and more cars were sure to be on their way.

"I’m calling for backup," said Alex as she reached into her jacket for her cell phone.

Bobby stopped the movement with his hand. "No way, Monroe. There’s no time. The Agency guys would storm in there and everyone would scatter. We’re taking down Thornton ourselves."

"Hobbes," said Alex, sounding uneasy.

Bobby pointed at the hanger. "I don’t care who’s in there. Whoever Thornton is selling the disk to can get away, as far as I’m concerned. I just want Thornton’s butt in a sling and that sweet disk back in my fingers."

"Okay, maybe you’re right. Maybe backup would be a bad idea," said Alex as she looked at Bobby and smiled. "I guess it’s just you and me, little tiger."

Bobby nearly blushed. "Come on darling, let’s go bust ourselves a criminal," he said as he pulled out his gun and started creeping towards the hanger

Alex followed suit and pulled out her own gun, tailing Bobby towards the hanger. They were about 50 yards away when another car pulled up to the hanger. Bobby and Alex duck behind a small shed filled with old airplane parts. They watched an older man with silver hair get out of the car, followed by two younger dark-haired men both armed with machine guns. The trio quickly made their way into the hanger.

Alex looked at Bobby in shock. "Do you know who that is?" she asked incredulously.

"Naw, who is it?" asked Bobby as they left the cover of the shed and headed towards the hanger.

"It’s Armin Roberts. He’s ex-CIA. About six years ago, he got booted after a mission went bad and all of his men were killed. Looks like someone wants a little revenge," said Alex.

"I’ll tell you what, Monroe. We bust Thornton and get the disk, you can have at this Robert’s fellow all you want," said Bobby.

Alex nodded as she and Bobby finally made it to the outside of the hanger. They found a side door and quietly entered the building. The door opened into a small hallway that allowed them to see into the large hanger without being detected themselves. They recognized four of the men standing around the room as some of the men who had helped hold them hostage earlier that day. Trey stood in the middle of the room with Roberts, Robert’s men flanking the both of them.

"As you can see Mr. Roberts, I mean business. You said this thing would be impossible to get and I got it. I think the 20 million you’re paying me and my men is a very reasonable price," said Trey.

Armin nodded. "Yes, I think that’s sounds very reasonable," he said as he turned around and nodded to one of his men. The man quickly started towards the door.

"Vore," yelled Trey. "Follow him and make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid."

Vore nodded and followed the man out of the hanger.

Bobby looked at Alex and nodded. "This is it, Monroe," he said as he clasped her hand for a second.

"Let’s do it," she said as she returned the clasp.

They both stepped out of the hallway and aimed their guns at Trey’s back. "Game’s over, pal. You lose," shouted Bobby.

Trey jerked for a second and then relaxed. "So you’re alive. How’s your friend? Did I manage to kill him?" said Trey.

"Tell your men to put their guns down and get the hell out of here," said Alex.

Trey slowly turned around.

"Show us your hands!" yelled Bobby.

Trey raised his hands and glanced at Armin. "I’m sorry Mr. Roberts, but it looks like the deal is off."

Armin started to back away towards the door.

"Just get out of here. You haven’t down anything wrong yet," yelled Alex.

Armin nodded and motioned to his other man to leave. They both quickly exited the hanger.

Bobby trained his gun on Trey while Alex covered his men. "Drop your guns fellas," said Alex.

The men hesitated and looked at Trey for instruction. "Do as she says!" he yelled.

The men instantly dropped their guns to the ground.

Bobby stepped towards Trey. "Give me the disk, you son of a bitch."

Trey smiled. "Tell me, was it worth it? Was it worth hearing and seeing your partner in such pain and agony? What kind of man lets his partner go through that?"

Bobby reached into Trey’s jacket and pulled out his gun, dropping it to the floor. "Funny thing is, my partner is going to be just fine. Unlike you," said Bobby as he put his gun against Trey’s head.

"That’s right. Be a good little agent and take down the bad guys. But the thing is, I don’t recall anything about revenge killing in the agent training guide," said Trey, his eyes drifting nervously towards the gun.

"Oh you haven’t huh? It’s a new chapter I’m writing. It’s gonna be a real page turner," said Bobby as he took a deep breath and prepared to fire. "This one’s for my partner. Go to hell you sadistic bastard."

Bobby had been so busy with Trey that he hadn’t noticed Vore sneaking back into the hanger. When he saw Bobby holding a gun to his boss’s head, he pulled out his gun, ready to fire.

Out of the corner of her eye, Alex saw the movement and swiftly turned around. "Hobbes!" yelled Alex as she fired her gun at Vore. She caught him right between the eyes, killing him instantly.

The distraction allowed Trey’s men to pick up their guns.

"Monroe!" yelled Bobby as he realized what was about to happen and aimed his gun at the men. But he was too late. He took out two of them, but not before they had fired their guns right at Alex. Several shots caught her in her back and her chest. She fell to the ground in a crumpled heap with blood leaking out her body.

Bobby fired his gun one last time and took out the last of Trey’s men. Then he smashed his gun against Trey’s head, knocking him out cold. He let his body fall to the floor and then ran over to Alex. "Monroe," he said softly as he picked her body off the ground and cradled her in his arms. There was blood everywhere and Bobby could tell right away that she wasn’t walking away from this one. Her eyes fluttered open and a small smile appeared on her face. "Aw crap," she choked out.

Bobby reached for his cell phone. "I’m going to get you some help, Alex. Just hold on for me, honey."

Alex reached her hand up and stopped him. "Don’t bother," she whispered. She looked deep into his eyes, which were slowly filling up with tears. "I’m sorry, Bobby."

Bobby shook his head. "Come on, Monroe, you’re a tough broad. Fight damn you, fight. Come on now, I need you. You’re my partner," said Bobby as the tears started to fall. He pulled her deeper into his arms and took her into an embrace.

"Hobbes…Bobby…tell Darien that he’s something special. Tell him he’s worth so much more then he ever gives himself credit for," said Alex in a hoarse tone.

"Alex, don’t do this," sobbed Bobby.

"Tell Claire I’m sorry for always being such a bitch. Truth is, I was always jealous of her relationship with you and Fawkes. And tell the Official that I loved working for him, no matter how much I never wanted to admit it." Alex swallowed and took a raspy breath, laughing slightly. "Tell Eberts that I had a secret crush on him."

Bobby smiled through the tears. "Eberts…As in Albert Eberts?"

Alex nodded. "Yeah," she said as tears started to glisten in her eyes. "I’m going to miss you most of all, Scarecrow. Tell Bobby Hobbes that he’s a good agent. One of the best. Tell him that Alex Monroe loved working with him and that she admired his partnership with his big-haired Gumby."

Bobby started wiping the tears and blood from Alex’s face. "Tell Alex Monroe that she’s a beautiful intelligent chick who could have kicked Bobby’s Hobbes ass in a heartbeat. And tell her it was an honor to work with her."

Alex smiled and her eyes drifted shut. Bobby started to shake her. "Come on, Alex, don’t leave yet. Come on."

Alex’s mouth opened and began to move. Bobby had to lean down to hear her words. "If you ever meet my son again, tell him that his mommy loved him very much." Her mouth closed then, and she sagged lifeless in Bobby’s arms.

Bobby started to cry. He held her tight, wanting to give her her life back, but he knew it wasn’t possible. He continued to rock her back and forth in his arms for several minutes, his tears mingling with her blood. He had completely forgotten about Trey until he heard a gun cock behind his head. "You’re turn," he heard Trey whisper.

Bobby reached for his gun and turned around in one swift movement quicker then he ever thought possible. It took Trey by so much surprise that he didn’t even realize he had been hit until he felt the blood dripping down his arm. But Bobby didn’t stop. He kept on firing. Shot after shot hit Trey’s body, spraying blood all over the floors and all over Bobby. He kept firing until he ran out of bullets. Trey’s body fell to the ground in mushy heap. Bobby stepped to him and slapped him across the face, even though Trey Thornton was just a memory now. He reached into the man’s pocket and pulled out the blue disk, which had managed to survive all the bullets. It was covered in a sticky film of blood.

Bobby stood up and fell to the ground in shock and grief as he glanced back at Alex’s dead body. He crawled over to her and took her once again in his arms. Then he pulled out his cell phone and dialed the number for the Agency.

**

The Official looked up in shock as Bobby strutted into the his office three hours later. Bobby took something out of his pocket and threw it on the Official’s desk. "That’s what you wanted isn’t it?" yelled Bobby angrily.

The Official stared at the blood-soaked disk and looked back up at Bobby. "I’m sorry about Monroe, Bobby. She was a good agent and she didn’t deserve to die," said the Official.

Bobby shook his head. "Not good enough it turns out. Monroe broke, I didn’t. Shouldn’t there be some kind of pay increase for that?" yelled Bobby in a sick, angry tone.

"Hobbes," said the Official softly.

"I didn’t break, sir. I did my country a great service today. And I nearly got the person who means the most to me in this world killed. Not to mention that fact that I had to watch a fellow agent and friend slip away in my arms," said Bobby with tears in his eyes. "Was it worth it sir? Was it worth Fawkes and Monroe’s life?"

"You did your job, Bobby. No one ever said this was easy, son. I’m proud of you," said the Official.

Bobby looked down at the ground. "But I’m not proud of myself. I should’ve saved Fawkes. I should have been the one to break, not Monroe. She broke and then I let her get herself killed and…and…" Bobby couldn’t finish the sentence. He fell to the floor, sobbing.

The Official got out of his chair and knelt down next to Bobby. He reached out his arms and pulled him into an uneasy embrace. "This isn’t your fault. None of this is your fault. You’re a hero, Bobby. You’re the best agent I’ve got."

Bobby shook his head. "I let him down. I let her down."

"You didn’t let me down," said the Official softly.

At that moment, Eberts stepped through the door. "Robert?" he said softly as he eyed Bobby and the Official.

Bobby jerked out of the Official’s arms and stood up. He quickly wiped at his eyes. "What do you want, Eberts?" he said angrily.

"Darien’s asking for you. Claire just told him about Alex. He’s pretty upset, he wants to see you," said Eberts.

Bobby stared at Eberts for a long time and then shook his head. "I’m sorry. I can’t see him."

Eberts raised his eyebrow. "Why not?"

"Because I can’t look at him. I can’t see that hurt look in his eye. I can’t watch him go through all the pain and suffering again," said Bobby.

The Official stood up and cleared his throat. "Hobbes, Fawkes needs you."

Bobby turned around and looked at the Official. "No, he doesn’t need me. Why would he need the person who nearly got him killed?"

"Robert," said Eberts.

"Sir, I’m taking a little sabbatical, starting right now," said Bobby in a zombie-like voice as he walked towards the door.

"Hobbes, you’re not well, you need some help," said the Official.

Bobby turned around with a dead look in his eye. "So does Fawkes," he said as he walked out the door.

Eberts watched Bobby walk down the hall and then he looked back at the Official. "Sir?" he asked.

"Go stay with Darien. Give Claire a break for awhile," said the Official.

Eberts nodded. "Yes, sir," he said as he walked out the door.

The Official sat back down in his chair and stared at the bloody disk sitting on his desk. He thought of Darien, thrashing and moaning in agony on the ground. Then he thought of Alex lying in a pool of her own blood, slowly dying. It was too much too take. Claire was right, it hadn’t been worth it. He picked the disk up and dropped it to the ground. Then he brought down his foot and smashed the bloody disk into a dozen pieces.

All that was visible of Darien’s body under the set of light gray sheets was a thick clump of brown hair that stuck up on the pillow. The rest of him was completely buried under the covers, forming a long and lean lump in his king sized bed. Claire ran her hand over the piece of lump she assumed was Darien’s shoulder and smiled sadly.

It had been nearly a week since everything had gone to hell. The drug had been completely purged from Darien’s system three days earlier and he had been completely wiped out ever since. As promised, Claire moved Darien to his apartment to let him recover. She had spent nearly every second with him, trying to make him better and get him through some of his grief over Alex.

The funeral had been two days ago and neither Claire nor Darien had been able to attend. Darien had felt awful that he was not strong enough to go to the service. To make up for his absence, he shelled out money for the most expensive tombstone Eberts and the Official could find. He also convinced them to bury Alex next to Kevin since she didn’t have any family of her own and since he considered her to be a part of his.

Eberts had filled Claire in on the funeral. It had been very big and extravagant, with government officials from all different branches attending. Even the president had put in an appearance. The Official, Bobby and Eberts had all given a eulogy. For her part, Claire had made sure the funeral had the biggest, most beautiful bouquet of flowers she could lay her hands on. During the time of the actual funeral, she and Darien had reminisced about Alex and shed a few tears. It had helped the both of them immensely, though she could tell Darien was still feeling loss and even guilt over her death.

Bobby was still a no-show in Darien’s life. As the days passed, Darien seemed to grow more and more depressed. Eberts had told her about Bobby’s reaction to everything that had had happened, and while she couldn’t blame him, she wished to hell he would put his guilt aside and come see his best friend. She had instructed Eberts to keep an eye on him and let her know if Bobby did anything drastic. She was planning on putting in a visit to his apartment later that day to kick some sense into his bald head. Or at least offer a shoulder to cry on. At this point, all she wanted to do was to get her two best friends out of the black holes they each found themselves in and bring them back together.

She sighed at her depressing thoughts and stared down at Darien’s form, smiling when she felt the shoulder under her hand begin to move slightly. She reached for the top of the covers and pulled them down, revealing Darien’s sleepy face. His hair, which hadn’t been styled in a week, hung limply over his forehead, nearly covering up the brown eyes that were staring back up at her.

"Hey," he whispered with a small smile.

Claire moved a piece of hair out of his face and returned the smile. "Hey. How are you feeling?" she asked.

Darien shrugged. "Dizzy, weak, sore, the usual."

"Do you want something to drink or eat? It might help with your strength," said Claire.

"Some water would be good," answered Darien.

Claire left his side and returned a few seconds later with a glass of water. She put it up to his lips and tilted his neck up so he could swallow. When he had had enough, Claire took the glass away and set it on the nightstand.

Darien patted the empty space beside him on the bed and a hopeful look spread across his face. Claire nodded and stood up, walking around to the other side of the bed and carefully getting in. Ever since Darien had been in Claire’s care, he had become extremely touchy with her. He constantly was reaching for her hand or wanting her to hold him or hug him. She supposed that he was just in need of some serious comfort and she was only too happy to comply. This was something tangible she could really do for him and it seemed to make him feel better.

Claire crawled into the center of the bed and gently turned Darien’s body so his head was against her shoulder. She placed a gentle kiss against his ear and then her hand drifted down to his belly, rubbing gentle rings around his navel. Darien sighed and she felt him relax into her arms.

"Can you stay here forever?" whispered Darien playfully.

"That depends," said Claire.

"On what?" asked Darien.

"When are you going to call Bobby?" asked Claire.

Darien shifted around uncomfortably. "I already told you, Keep, I’m not calling him. He obviously doesn’t want to talk to me, and I’m not going to force him to do something he doesn’t want to do."
"You men," Claire paused "actually… let me rephrase that…you boys… are so immature." Darien snorted. "Oh are we now?"

"If you both weren’t the most stubborn people on the face of this earth, you would have made up by now," said Claire as she continued to rub Darien’s stomach.

"I’m not mad at him, Claire," said Darien softly. "I just miss him, that’s all. Feels like I’ve lost my best friend."

Claire smacked Darien’s stomach. "What am I then?" she said, trying to distract him from thinking about Bobby.

"You’re different, you’re a chick," said Darien.

"Oh I’m a chick? What’s the difference?" asked Claire.

"You can’t be best friends with a chick, it just doesn’t work. At some point the issue of sex is going to come up and…

Claire raised an eyebrow. "Oh really?"

"Well, it does," whined Darien.

"So a man and a woman cannot be platonic friends without sex coming into the equation, is that what you’re telling me, Mr. Fawkes?" asked Claire incredulously.

Darien nodded. "Pretty much, yeah. I mean come on, I’m sure you’ve had some fantasies about me or Hobbes… or maybe even Eberts."

"Darien, please," said Claire.

"Are you saying you haven’t?" asked Darien, a toothy grin spreading across his face that Claire couldn’t see, but could detect in his tone. "Cuz I have. How do you think I got control over my…control," he added mischievously.

Claire blushed furiously. "About me?"

Darien shook his head. "No, about Eberts."

Claire smacked Darien’s stomach again.

"Oww, easy, I’m a hurt man, here," said Darien, mocking pain.

Claire rolled her eyes and gently rolled Darien off of her. She turned her body so she was looking him right in the eyes. All she could see was sadness behind the brave face he was trying so desperately to put up. Dark pools of worry, guilt, pain, loss and innocence all reflected in his chocolate puppy dog eyes. She hated what she saw and she wanted to wipe it out of his beautiful eyes permanently.

"I’ve got an idea," she said mysteriously.

Darien huffed. "This isn’t going to involve you examining my prostate again, is it? I mean it was fun once, but twice is pushing it."

Claire smiled and got off the bed. "Just stay there, I’ll be right back."

"It’s not like I can really go anywhere, Keep. I can barely move my head without stopping to rest," said Darien sarcastically. He sighed and closed his eyes, hearing the noise of Claire rooting around in his bathroom. "Keep, what are you doing in there?" he asked curiously.

Claire returned a second later, her arms filled with hair styling products. She dropped them on the bed next to Darien and then placed another pillow behind his head so he was up a little higher. "I’m going to style your hair," said Claire with a smile as she reached for a comb and some mouse. "I’m sick of seeing your depressed hair. It needs to be big and tall and more…more…" Claire waved her hand, trying to figure out the words she was looking for.

"Like me?" offered Darien.

"Exactly," said Claire as she rubbed the mousse through his locks and began combing them up high in the air. She reached for some gel and some hairspray and continued with the project. Fifteen minutes later, she finished. She ran back into the bathroom and came back with a mirror, handing it to Darien. "How did I do?" she asked.

Darien took the mirror and stuck it front of his face, staring in shock at the stranger looking back. His face was pale, he had a week’s worth of stubble, and his eyes had huge dark circles under them despite the fact that he had been doing nothing but sleeping the last few days. His hair though, his hair was perfect. Shiny, big and happy, just how he liked it. He set down the mirror and gave Claire a grateful look. "Thank you so much," he said softly.

Claire shrugged. "It’s just hair, Darien," she said as she began gathering up the beauty products.

Darien stopped her with his hand. "No, it’s not just the hair. It’s everything you’ve done. Helping me when we were are all in the Official’s office, letting me puke all over you more times than I can count, saving my life, taking care of me, hugging me and trying to cheer me up every chance you get. I just wanted you to know that it means a lot to me," he said sincerely. He stared at her for a moment and then cleared his throat. "You’re the only one, you know," he whispered.

Claire raised her eyebrow. "Only one what?" she asked.

Darien took a deep breath and exhaled loudly. "The only one that hasn’t left me. Women, family, friends…partners. My mom, my dad, Kevin, Casey, Allianora, Kate, Jessica, Alex…Hobbes. But not you. You’ve been here and I just…I just need to make you understand how much I appreciate it, Claire," he finished.

Claire smiled, fighting tears. She leaned down and gave him a tight hug. "You’re welcome, Darien."

Darien returned the hug and then lay back against his pillow. He yawned and his eyes started to drift shut as he suddenly began to feel very sleepy. The hair styling and all the conversation had succeeded in wearing him out completely.

Claire picked up the beauty products and returned them to their rightful spots in the bathroom. When she came out, she could tell that Darien was on the losing end in a battle with his pillow and blanket. "Darien," she whispered.

His eyes fluttered open and he looked up at her blearily. "Uh huh?" he murmured.

"I’m going to leave for a little while. I should be back in a hour or so," she said as she picked up his cordless phone on the nightstand and put it next to his head. "If you need anything, you call my cell phone, okay. Will you be all right on your own?" she asked.

Darien nodded and closed his eyes. "Bye, Keep," he murmured.

Claire leaned down and kissed him on the forehead. "Goodbye, Darien," she whispered. Claire then gathered her purse and cell phone and quietly made her way out of Darien’s apartment.

**

Claire knocked on Bobby’s door firmly, hearing a television blaring inside and cursing the fact that Eberts hadn’t been able to keep Bobby company over the weekend because the Official was drowning him in paperwork. She could only imagine what condition she would find Bobby in.

She tapped her foot impatiently as she waited for the door to open. When it finally did, she could only step back and gasp at the person standing before her.

Bobby was a mess. There just wasn’t a nice way to put it. His hair was a mess, he hadn’t shaved in several days, his eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep and his clothes were stained and torn. Looking inside the door, Claire could see that his apartment wasn’t fairing much better.

"You gonna come in or are you stand and gawk?" asked Bobby in a slurred tone.

That was another thing. He reeked of cheap alcohol. There were empty beer cans, and whiskey and vodka bottles all over the apartment. Claire gave him a worried look. "I hope you’re not drinking all this on your meds," she said.

"Haven’t been taking the meds, Keep. Don’t really see the point," said Bobby as he sat down on his couch and stared at the basketball game playing on his screen.

"Bobby, it wasn’t your fault. None of it was you fault," said Claire gently as she shoved away some beer cans and took a seat next to him.

Bobby shook his head and glanced at her. "How’s Fawkes?" he asked, a tinge of the real Bobby Hobbes making its way into the statement.

"Why don’t you come by and see for yourself," said Claire.

"Did he send you here? Is that why you’re here? You don’t give a damn about me!" yelled Bobby.

Claire sighed. "Bobby, that’s not true and you know it. I’m worried about you. Everyone’s worried about you. You haven’t been to work. You haven’t called me. You haven’t visited your partner once. What’s going on?" she asked.

Bobby snorted and reached for a half-empty can of beer. "Why don’t you tell old Fawkesy to find himself a new best friend. This one just doesn’t give a damn anymore," he said as he gulped down the rest of the can and threw it on the floor.

"You’re such a liar," said Claire.

"What’s that supposed to mean?" asked Bobby defensively.

"You care so much about him that it hurts. It kills you that you weren’t the one to break, doesn’t it. You made a choice, Bobby. I didn’t agree with it then and I don’t agree with it now, but it’s not my place to judge." She paused and thought about Darien begging for his life in the Official’s office. The thought infuriated her. "Or maybe it is my place to judge! You put your job in front of your friend, Bobby. Maybe that makes you a big hero. Or maybe that makes you a great big coward," said Claire with venom in her tone.

Bobby stood up from the couch and threw a glass bottle of vodka against the wall, spraying bits of glass and alcohol all over the room. "You don’t know anything about it, Claire. You don’t know what it’s like to watch someone suffer when you know you can stop it." Bobby stopped suddenly and smacked his head with his hand. "What am I saying, of course you do. You withheld the cure for quicksilver madness for a good couple of weeks before you gave it to Fawkes. You let him suffer the pain and the fear of going permanently mad. In my mind, that makes you one cold hearted bitch, Keepie."

"Don’t you dare put this one me. I helped Darien. I saved Darien. Alex saved Darien," screamed Claire.

"Don’t you talk about her, you don’t know anything about it! She didn’t die in your arms!" yelled Bobby furiously.

"And it wasn’t your fault, Bobby. Stop feeling sorry for yourself and get off your ass. Things have happened that you can’t change. Alex is dead. She’s never coming back, and I’m sorry that you had to go through that. But Darien is alive. No matter what you did or didn’t do, your partner is alive. And all he wants is for you to come and see him. I don’t think that’s too much to ask," said Claire.

Bobby looked down and shook his head. "I can’t," he whispered.

"Why? Because you feel guilty? Screw your guilt. He needs you right now. You think you let him down before? What about now? He’s asking for you and you won’t see him. What the bloody hell does that make you?" yelled Claire.

Bobby motioned towards the door. "I think it’s time for you to leave."

Claire sighed in anger and then walked towards the door. "Just think about the guy laying in his bed across the city scared to death and missing his best friend. Think about it, Bobby!" And with that, Claire stepped out the door and slammed it behind her.