Tears
An English solicitor, Benjamin Disraeli, wrote, "What we anticipate seldom occurs: but what we least expect generally happens." Since becoming what people least expect, I've learned to not anticipate anything and be surprised by nothing.
Claire wiped at the sweat on her brow, then glared at her dusty hands realizing she'd probably just made things worse. They were a sorry lot, all four of them, Herself, Agent Monroe, Hobbes, and Fawkes, sitting in front of the Official like sulky children caught out after dark in the sandbox, literally. She glanced across the row and quickly took back her assessment. All of them but Alex sat like sulky children. Somehow, despite being brown with mud and dirt like the rest of them, the woman still seemed to sit up straight as an arrow with an overconfident smirk masking all her real emotions.
Inwardly Claire bristled and in response she drew herself up, hands folding in her lap as if nothing was wrong and added her own stare at the Official. He didn't take any notice.
A large hand came slamming down on the oak tabletop with a resounding thump causing the woman to blink and the two men between them to fidget and shift positions. "What...I repeat...WHAT...the HELL do you think you were doing?!!" The Official demanded loudly.
"Well, you see, sir..." Hobbes began looking to his coworkers, or maybe a better term at this moment, his cohorts, for help, but received only a blank look from Darien. Neither Claire nor Alex had relinquished their combined glares at the Official.
"We were on reconnaissance!" Darien supplied, and ignoring a panicked look from Hobbes added with a hesitant shrug, "you know, the usual..."
"The usual..." The Official drawled out his voice back to normal volume but no less dangerous as he stared at his agents. Darien and Hobbes unconsciously sank a bit lower. "The usual, uh? And this includes the sabotage of an animal research preserve, how? Not to mention the property damage of their entire facility?" He quickly added with a raised finger.
Both men began fidgeting again then Monroe suddenly spoke up. "There were there because I thought the facility might have a connection with Chrysalis."
Claire blinked. Her resolve at glaring as best she could instantly dissolving. From the shocked looks on Darien and Bobby's faces, it was obvious Alex had just lied, but the two men quickly recovered and Hobbes half grumbled half stated, "They were bad, sir, very bad."
Darien nodded his head adding to his partner's emphatic description, "Oh yay! Very bad, slimy."
"Slimy. Incredibly slimy. Shame on them!"
"Shut up!" The Official ordered his hand coming down on the desk for a second time. All the agents before him had the good graces to look forlorn, or at least away from his gaze this time. Grinding his teeth somewhat, his eyes narrowed and Claire could practically see the scale in his head tipping as he weighed whether or not it was worth reprimanding them, and if so, how much.
After a few minutes of silence he growled out, "You are all assigned to desk duty for the next two days, the accounting database needs to be reorganized, labeled, and transferred to computer. And you four are the ones who'll be doing it." A small grin played across his darkening features as he quickly raised a hand again to forestall any protests, groans, or otherwise. Then with a deadly voice he stated, "Starting tomorrow. Now get out of here, you all stink!"
His words left nothing for discussion and to emphasis his point that there would be no excuses he pulled out his abacus from the drawer and turned to his paper work. Silently, the other four occupants of the room left.
When the door was shut behind them, Hobbes turned to Alex a half smile on his face. "Wow, Alex! That was..."
Monroe didn't let him finished and looking away tartly stated, "Whatever. I need a shower." She was moving at a brisk pace down the hall before they could react.
Hobbes pursed his lips frowning. "Man, she's got to loosen up!" He stated.
"She was loose on the field," Darien commented, though his face was scrunched slightly in a small scowl as well.
Hobbes' eyebrows shot up as he looked up at his tall companion. "You call blowing up a lab loose?"
Darien shrugged. Then with a small smirk commented, "I recall you throwing a few grenades yourself."
"Hey! Bobby Hobbes knows what he's doing, my friend!"
"Guys," Claire pleaded. She really didn't think in front of the Official's door was the best place for a conversation about their recent midnight antics, especially as borderline illegal as they had been. It was merely their luck that the lab they had followed their lead to had in fact been some sort of twisted mad scientist's fantasy. Not to mention that destroying most of the evidence rather than letting it fall into the government's hands had actually been her idea wasn't settling too well with Claire right at the moment. She highly doubted it was sitting too well with Agent Monroe either, which in Claire's mind completely validated the woman's response, or lack thereof.
In fact, the scientist in Claire figured, and secretly hoped, the others hadn't even realized just how much information had been stored in that lab's dark confines. She sighed softly feeling a headache coming on. She wasn't going sleep well tonight.
They had taken no more than a few steps from the door when Eberts came rushing down the hall towards them, an odd look etched across his face. "Claire! You have an emergency telephone call." He said in a rush.
"What's the emergency?" Fawkes immediately questioned as everyone stopped, concern washing over their faces.
Eberts grimaced then firmly stated, "Sorry Darien. This is a call strictly for the Keeper." As he spoke he was turning a bewildered and tired Claire around back towards the Official's office. They disappeared inside a minute later.
Darien and Bobby shared in a grim expression before Hobbes murmured under his breath, "I wonder what that's all about?" They both looked at each other as if asking a question of action, and in a likewise silent communication they each made a face and turning, slowly walked away from the room.
The Official had looked up angry when he saw the door open with Claire being propelled back in, but it washed away to disgruntlement from the look on Eberts' face. "Sorry, sir." The man apologized, but not waiting for permission picked up the phone and switched it to line five, speaking curtly into the receiver. "Yes. She's here. Yes. One moment." Then he handed the phone to Claire.
Taking it with a curious frown she held it up to her ear wondering what to possibly expect. "Hello?" She said in question.
"Is this Claire Rice?" A gruff male voice asked. Claire felt lost, Rice? She hadn't heard that name in years. "Claire Julia Rice?" The man questioned again when she didn't readily reply.
"Yes," her frown deepened. "I'm her."
There was a small pause, enough time for Claire's fear to suddenly manifest. She did know the name Rice, it wasn't her real one, only an alias, but one she hadn't ever actually used which was why it took a minute for it to sink in. The gruff voice spoke again. "My name is Lieutenant Brackly, with the Chicago PD. I'm sorry to have to inform you Ms. Rice. But there's been an accident. Your brother's dead."
"He's...he's..." The color completely drained from her face and she sank down into the nearby chair. All her emotions seemed to suddenly vanish in her shock. The Official and Eberts exchanged alarmed and concerned expressions at the sudden change in her countenance. If Claire had been aware of it, she'd have been touched by their concern, but right now she was having a hard time just comprehending the information. "How?"
"It was a car accident. He was making a left-hand turn when a semi lost control and ran through a red light. I'm sorry," Brackly's gruff voice told her sympathetically. He had obviously had to make a lot of phone calls like this in his line of duty. Claire nodded biting her lip as she felt her eyes water up. Dead? Brad was dead? Unbidden two tears rolled down her dirty cheek carving brown streaks as a river might forge a new trail. Then with a sniff and swallowing the knot in her throat, she mumbled, "Thank you." All at once her thoughts seemed to come back to themselves. Blinking she forced herself to focus. "What about his wife? And his daughter?" She asked urgently.
There was another pause and the dread rose up in her again only to fall like a rock in her stomach. "I'm sorry," Brackly began again even softer this time. "Mrs. Rice was in the car with him."
"What about Rachel?" Claire immediately asked a strained insistence to her voice. She didn't realize her grip had tightened on the receiver in her anxiety. The white of her knuckles stood out in harsh contrast to the temporary dirt tan. Once again the Official and Eberts exchanged concerned looks, but they remained silent.
"She's fine. She was over at a friend's house at the time. She's there now." The Lieutenant told her quickly reassuring her.
Claire quickly swallowed the knot that was forming again. "Alright, I'll fly out in the morning. When's the funeral?" She asked between breaths. Her thoughts were a blur, but she froze again, hearing the hesitation over the line. "What?" She practically demanded though managed to keep her voice controlled. "What is it?" Claire honestly wasn't sure if she could deal with anymore shock right then.
"It uh, took us a while to find you Ms. Rice. The accident was over a week ago and the funeral last weekend." He took a breath and continued. "Since you are now Rachel's legal guardian, there's some paper work to fill out, or if you'd like to address the possibility of making new arrangements-"
Claire cut him off, "No, no. This is fine."
"Since the funeral is over, Rachel requested that when we got a hold you that she be flown out to you rather then you come here. I can always mail the necessary papers to you. It wouldn't be a problem."
"Um, alright," The numbness was gratefully returning, and Claire reached across the desk for a pen and nearest piece of paper with a trembling hand. She and the Lieutenant exchanged contact information and as they talked Brackly set up a flight for the following day to San Diego for Rachel. Claire was immensely grateful when it was over and hanging up the phone she tore off the corner of the paper she had written the info on, stuffing it in her pocket. "I won't be able to work tomorrow, I have to pick up my niece." Claire said blandly as she stood.
"You don't have a niece!" The Official instinctually argued.
Claire looked at him an odd mix of sorrow and defiance reflecting in her eyes. "I do now." She told him and walked out.
The Official glowered although deeply concerned. He looked forlornly a the newly vandalized report with it's top corner missing. "Eberts, see if you can find anything about this supposed niece of her's, she mentioned the name Rachel, ten bets to one that's the name of the girl." As far as he knew, his file on Claire had been complete, he much as he liked to keep them himself, he hated secrets!
"Yes, sir," Eberts replied and headed for the door.
With a quick glance back at the paper in his hand the Official quickly called out, "and see if there's an extra copy of file A384!"
"Of coarse." Then the man was gone, leaving the Official with disturbing thoughts.
*****
Darien grinned and sucked in a large breath of air as he looked about the room they were setting up camp in. He promptly dropped the file box on top of the other he had already brought up a floor. A small pile of boxes had already begun to accumulate in the corner.
"Why didn't anyone ever convert these files onto disk before?" Alex asked annoyed, dropping her own overloaded filing box on the floor next to Darien's and immediately headed for the computer on the desk in the corner. She flipped the switch at the back but gave the box a critical glare that turned to one of disgust as the orange on black letters began to popped up on the screen. "A 386? You've got to be kidding!" She exclaimed.
"Actually, it's a 486." Eberts responded as he followed Hobbes into the room. They each had another file box in their hands that were stacked next to the others. Eberts pulled out a stack of sheets from inside his box. "Here's some labels and colored stickers you might find helpful," he began but stopped as Bobby took the topmost sheet a bemused expression crossing his face.
"Oooh. The dots! I love the dots!" He said with a smile.
Darien returned that smile. "Really? I want a blue one." He added coming over to pluck it off the sheet. Hobbes automatically pulled the sheet of colored dots out of Fawkes' reach complaining.
"Hey, get your own sheet of dots!"
"And so it begins," Alex groaned under her breath, then turning to Eberts asked, "Where's the Keeper?"
The two men immediately forgot about the dots and turning as one echoed, "Ya? So what was the emergency yesterday?"
The man looked uncomfortable under their glares. Darien noticed that sleep circles were etched under the man's eyes, and he really began to wonder if something had gone wrong, maybe they should have stayed. "I don't really know. Honest!" He exclaimed at their looks of disbelief. "She'll be gone today on a personal errand. That's the most I know." It wasn't exactly true, but he didn't feel right divulging information about Claire's family issue, real or unreal as they may be. He had been up all night just trying to verify that aspect, with no success. Then before they could pin him with more questions Eberts stated, "Well, you have everything you need, and I have things to do." He moved as fast as he could out of the room.
Hobbes mouth was open to say something but he changed it into a growl. "I knew something was up, we should have hung around!"
"What emergency?" Alex asked the two men with interest.
Shrugging, Darien told her, "We don't know. Right before we left she got a call. That's it. But if it was something serious I'm sure the Official would have mentioned something when we came in this morning." Darien reasoned.
They all exchanged looks and in stereo responded, "Ya right!"
The trio popped the lids off the nearest boxes looking with some depression at the mass amounts of disorganized data from the five years previous to Darien even joining the Agency. "And the Fish wants this done in two days?" Darien asked with disbelief.
With a dissatisfied click of her tongue Alex crossed her arms and shaking her head stated matter of factly. "This isn't going to work!"
"Oh ya?" Bobby asked. "What do you suggest?"
"That we steal three computers, a scanner or two, network them together and add a conversion program to the mix."
Darien and Bobby exchanged looks. "I like her idea," Darien commented.
Hobbes lips pursed together. "Let's do it."
*****
Claire stood at the back of the crowd by gate fifteen. A little less than half were anxiously waiting for the plane to disembark while the rest were impatiently waiting to board. Claire felt numb inside. She had been surprised that she had made it home okay the day before, and had found herself doing all her usual nightly routines like they were some automatic reaction ingrained into her. Then at last, in the shower Claire let herself come down from the shock that held her in place.
The night had turned into a long one, though she didn't remember much of it except that Pavlov hadn't left her side for most of it. He really was a devote animal even if he's not a great guard dog, she thought kindly, and quelled the emotions that surged up within her. This was not the time to loose it, she chastened herself. Claire wasn't even sure why it was effecting her so badly, it's not like she hadn't had to deal with death before, friends, family, an ex-lover...twice. Yet here she was on the verge of loosing her slim grasp of control in an airport terminal of all places.
At last the door opened and a flight attendant followed by a long trail of people began to slowly stream out of the gate. As Claire watched she suddenly realized she wouldn't know what Rachel would look like anymore, but then a young woman with a bulging backpack across her shoulders stepped out, pausing as she scanned the crowd. Her gaze fell on Claire, and she edgily made her way over.
The girl was a bit tall for a teenager, but not overly so. Her long flat dirty blond hair was pulled back in a loose braid blending perfectly with her light tanned features. Puffy eyes looked up to meet Claire's. "Hi." The girl said with a small swallow.
"Rachel?" Claire asked although she was sure. The girl nodded. "Wow, you've really gown. Last I saw you, you were only ten," Claire couldn't help herself from saying as she took in the changes from the kid she once knew.
The girl's lips twitched slightly in a hesitant smile. "Things have a tendency to change in six years."
"I know." Claire said, then pursing her lips looked at the girl again with critical scientific eyes. "You haven't slept much, have you?" She asked.
The hesitant smile flickered to Rachel's lips again, lasting a little longer this time. With a breath, one might say of relief, the girl responded quietly, "You haven't changed much."
Claire's own lips curled at the comment and she suddenly felt herself relaxing, the tension that had been building all night finally falling away, and with an instinctual reaction Claire pulled the girl towards her in a tight hug.
Rachel, who was maybe half a foot shorter than Claire, buried her head in the woman's shoulder, fiercely returning the embrace like it was a life raft. The departing folks who had met up with friends or relatives paused their conversations as they passed the two by, taking notice of the intensity of the expressions and tears that streamed down each woman's face as Claire and Rachel clung to each other for several minutes.
"Am I safe, Claire?" Rachel asked in a voice that was half a sob.
"Yes," Claire asserted, then pushing Rachel back to look her in the eyes said again, with even more determination, "Yes Rachel. You are safe here, with me. I won't let anyone hurt you, okay sweetie?"
The girl nodded, then both females glanced around at the various passing people and with embarrassed smiles they wiped the tears from the faces. "How 'bout if we get out of here?" Claire asked with a small grin. She felt relief set in as she watched the girl begin to relax and added, "Do you have any luggage to pick up?"
Shaking her head, Rachel told her, "No. I've just my pack. And two boxes ready to ship back in Chicago."
Claire nodded, not really surprised that the girl didn't have much in the line of personal belongings. She slid an arm protectively around the teenager's shoulders as they walked away from the terminal.
*****
Darien was dragged from his dream by the sudden sharp pain in the back of his neck. The pain was gone by the time he came to full consciousness, but the memory of it was still there, and groggily he pulled his arm out from under the covers to look blurry eyed at the snake tattoo. He still had about a day of sanity left. Then he looked up at the clock, the numbers reading shortly after three am. With groan he shoved his head under his pillow grumbling, "It's way too early for this!"
Exhausted as he was from interpreting bad handwriting all day, Darien fell asleep quickly enough, though he'd had at least one more small episode with the headaches before it was actually time for him to get up. Like an omen, they predicted how his day was going to go, and if it were possible, Darien would have chosen to stay at home and avoid it altogether.
As it was, even after a long hot shower his head still felt fogged over, like he wasn't fully awake and with a hard yawn he grabbed the key from the counter, stuffed a bagel into his mouth and headed out the door twenty minutes late.
At the office, he walked into the room where their current 'assignment' still lay strung about, stacks piled in a haphazard manor, but out of the boxes and some with colored tabs. Dots littered the floor.
"Hey Hobbsey, what's up?" Darien greeted his partner, and the only other occupant in the room at the time. Bobby was already at one of the three terminals they had 'borrowed' the day before from accounting and administration. Darien had heard the complaints about the various IOU notes the three agents had left behind, but so far word hadn't seemed to filter back to the Official, either that or he didn't care.
Hobbes didn't look up from the computer screen but mimicked, "Hey Fawkes, what's up?"
Darien frowned, murmuring, "I just said that, get your own lines!"
"Um? Really?" The man's attention was completely elsewhere. Darien strode over, but one look at the screen made him want to hit Hobbes over the back of the head. FreeCell currently occupied the monitor and as Hobbes moved the last card in place, they began scrolling around the screen, an extra window popping up to say 'Congratulations! You've won!' while we are the champions began to play. "Whoo hoo! I won!" Bobby exclaimed with a huge smile. "Look at that, who's the man!" He cheered for himself.
"You're the man," Darien said halfheartedly, moving back towards the door.
"Hey Fawkes, don't go so far, we've still got a lot of work to do," Bobby called after him as if realizing Darien was there for the first time.
"Yea, whatever. I gotta go get a shot," he told Hobbes and quickly asked, "Is Claire here?"
Bobby frowned. "Don't know, Buddy. But Monroe's on assignment so it's just you and me here, my friend!"
"Figures!" Darien let the door shut behind him and rubbing his eyes tried to clear the sleep he was positive still had to be there. With another yawn Darien headed for the Keep. If Claire were here, she'd be there, he was sure of it.
Just outside the Keep he flashed the card through and stepped in, saying, "Hey Keepie, you here?" Then he stopped, his line of sight coming across not the keeper but a teenage girl who looked almost uncannily like the Keeper. She was directly opposite the door by the chair and looked at him startled, a mixture of emotions crossing the girl's face.
"Darien, what is it?" Claire asked, turning her back to the counter she was at and giving him an impatient look.
"Uh, well," Darien suddenly wasn't so sure, and looking back to the teenager instead, stepped up to her offering a hand as he greeted, "Hi, I'm Darien Fawkes."
"Rachel," the girl answer seeming to calm down some, though Darien noticed how red her eyes were, probably from prolonged crying he assumed. She reached out to shake his hand, but was stopped as Claire quite suddenly interjected herself between them.
Claire had seen Darien offer his hand to shake and felt a sudden sense of panic surge up inside her. Reacting instantly she stepped between them, very pointedly facing Darien and blocking Rachel from his view. "Darien, I'm quite busy right now," She told him sternly. "Do you think you could come back later?"
Darien looked at her stunned. Her eyes were rimmed with red as well. Frowning concerned, he was tempted to push the Keeper into telling him what was going on, but the look of annoyance that she was giving him persuaded him otherwise. "Ah, ya. I guess so," Darien said still unsure, but he backed out seeing the girl, Rachel, giving him an odd look from behind Claire's back as he left.
When the door shut again, Claire let out a small sigh of relief, a feeling that vanished once she turned to see Rachel openly glaring at her. "You're doing it again, aren't you?" The girl demanded with a deathly quiet voice, a pained expression crossing her face.
"No, Rachel, it's not like that." Claire tried, realizing suddenly that the situation was about to turn ugly if left unchecked. She reached out for the girl, but Rachel stepped back angry.
"No Claire. You are. He called you Keepie. You can't tell me that doesn't mean Keeper!" The girl's hands clenched into fists as she talked and her voice was strained as if she were on the verge of panic and tears.
Claire sighed, prepared to explain when the door opened again. This time it was Agent Monroe who stepped in. "Claire, I need you-" she cut off when she saw the women in their small face off. Anger etched across both faces. "Who's this?" Alex asked in surprise.
"This is my niece, Rachel." Claire replied annoyed at being interrupted.
Alex blinked and automatically responded, "You don't have a niece."
It was so similar to how the Official had said it two days previous Claire wanted to growl with frustration, but then Rachel bit out, shooting a defiant look at Claire. "Not by blood!"
"Can you come back, later?" Claire exasperatedly asked the agent.
"Sure, no problem," Alex said lightly and added as she left as if oblivious to the obvious tension in the room. "Nice meeting you Rachel."
When the door shut again, Claire walked over and hit lock the button with a bit of force, then taking a deep breath to calm herself turned to the angry teenager and told her, "Rachel. You're right, I am a Keeper, but it's different this time." Claire took another breath when she saw Rachel softly bite her lower lip, her anger edging away to uncertainty.
Giving the girl a sympathetic face and a soft smile Claire walked up to her and putting her hands on the girl's shoulders told her as sincerely as possible. "Rachel, I wouldn't hurt you, or anyone else. You have to believe that, in fact, I know you do." She stated.
The girl looked up with pleading eyes, but at last nodded. Then softly asked, "What is he?"
A smile touched Claire's lips as she told the girl, "Sorry Sweetie, I can't tell you that." Rachel nodded again, but before she could pull away Claire hugged her tightly feeling the same in response. "You've grown so much," the Keeper told her warmly giving strength as much as pulling it from their embrace. Then she added, "I need you to do me a favor Rachel. I need you to be careful around here, okay?"
"Okay, Claire," Rachel replied in a quiet voice.
Looking at her with critical eyes, Claire frowned in worry, the girl looked positively exhausted. Neither of them had slept much as Claire had had her telling her everything that had happened in the last six years, taking them deep into the night, and if Claire had been able to skip work today, she would have. She promised herself she'd have Rachel enrolled in school by next week, but until then Rachel had pleaded with Claire to not leave her at the house, so here they were. It was a mistake Claire knew, but she didn't have the heart to force it upon the distraught girl. And personally, she felt better knowing Rachel was nearby.
The young girl bit her lip again as she looked around the lab. Claire was about to suggest to her to try and sleep on the chair when the beep of the locked door interrupted her. It beeped again, and then slid open as a frowning Eberts stepped in having over ridden the lock. He gave the room a quick one over then stated, apologizing, "I'm sorry, Claire, but the Official needs to talk to you."
Claire sighed, she swore the Keep had never been so busy, with a quick look at Rachel, said, "Alright. Eberts do you think you could stay here with Rachel till I get back?" Then she quickly introduced them heading for the door before Eberts could say no. "Eberts this is Rachel. Rachel, Eberts." She was out of the room in the next instant.
Eberts blinked, then looked at the teenager hesitantly. He'd spent two nights pulling up all sorts of phony information on the girl standing before him, but no where had he found something tangible he hadn't disproved as real. "So. How do you like San Diego?" He asked a bit lamely.
The girl's lips twitched in a smile and relaxing somewhat she pulled herself up on the chair to sit and face him. "Have you ever played Quake?" Rachel asked him.
Half of Eberts' mouth curled up in a crooked grin. "I prefer Unreal," he told her with open honesty.
Her smile broadened. "I've only played that once, a friend had it. Doesn't the third person view make it harder to aim?"
"Oh no," Eberts said relaxing into this subject of conversation. "True it takes a bit to get used to from the first person point of view, but you can do all you actions with just the mouse and arrows, there's no extra keys needed. It's really quite an improvement." He told her emphatically.
"I bet you'd cream me in an instant!" Rachel quietly exclaimed with a smile, and yet not seeming perturbed by that fact. "Personally, I just like shooting at things," she told him.
He nodded as if completely understanding her point of view and commented, "Helps to relieve unwanted tension."
*****
"Ah, is this right?" Rachel asked looking down at the glass slide with it's newly acquired spot of color. In spite of the bad morning, the day had progressed fairly well. When Claire got back from her meeting with the 'Official' as Eberts had said it, she had come in swearing curses under her breath. Rachel guessed the meeting didn't go well, but Eberts left and Claire's mood lightened considerably. That had been hours ago and Rachel couldn't help but notice how different the atmosphere was now between them.
Claire looked over at the girl from the vial she was heating and smirked. "I don't remember you being so squeamish when you were younger," she commented.
"That was before I knew better!" Rachel stated, still eyeing her slide.
"Surely you've done stuff like this in biology class before?"
Rachel looked over at her with a comically pained look on her face. "That was spit and onion skins, not blood!"
Laughing, Claire put her vial and tongs on a stand before she opened a drawer and pulled a couple things out. "Prep three fresh slides," she told the teenager as she pulled her gloves off and washed her hands. Rachel did as she was told and watched in fascination as Claire took a metal and plastic piece from a fresh wrapper and attached it to another plastic piece very much like a pen. The woman shook her hand for a couple of minutes, then sort of messaged it downward with her other hand. Grinning and taking the pen like object she put it against the tip of her finger. She must of hit a button for there was a small twang of a spring and when she moved the object away a small bead of red blood was issuing forth.
Rachel made a face but still fascinated watched as Claire applied her blood to the slide. Once the slide was ready and Claire had a Band-Aid on she took out a fresh end for the hideous pen like pricking object and handed it to Rachel. The girl took it with wide eyes. "You want me to do that? Doesn't it hurt?" She asked undecided.
The grin on Claire's face only widened. "You'll never know until you've done it," she teased.
Rachel made a face at the woman, but knew she was far too curious now not to. So following Claire's guidance and instruction, she, too, pricked her finger to obtain a blood sample. It hadn't hurt, not really, but it did feel kind of weird.
Then together they looked at the two slides under a microscope, they were a little different, but barely. As Rachel stared through the lens utterly fascinated, Claire pulled out a drop from a vial she had in the fridge, prepping the final slide. When it was ready Rachel reached for it, but Claire interrupted her saying, "Here, I've got it." She deftly switched the slides out then motioned for Rachel to look.
The girl looked through the lens, then back and Claire, then through the lens again. "Wow! That is cool!"
Claire was grinning widely as she pulled the slid out then and added a drop of some blue substance from a different vial. "If you think that's neat, check this out!" Claire told her putting the slide back under the scope.
Rachel obediently looked, her mouth gapping as she watched the chemical reacting with the sample of blood. "What is that stuff?" She finally asked, her eyes glued to the scope not wanting to miss anything. Then she suddenly glanced up at Claire for a second asking in shock. "It that him?"
The Keeper smirked, "Yes, but hush girl, you're not supposed to see any of this."
"Ya ya," Rachel mumbled peering mystified through the scope. "I'm the last person who'd say anything," the girl stated emphatically.
"I know," Claire murmured, then turned as she heard the door to the Keep open.
Speaking of which. Darien poked his head in, hesitantly saying, "Claire, it can't wait."
Claire quickly motioned him in, suddenly worried. She hadn't even thought about him needing a shot soon, the last two days had been a bit of a turmoil for her. Counting hours quickly, she realized with a wave of relief that the batch she had finished right before their 'venture' was still good for a few more hours. Her critical mind immediately wondered why he hadn't come to her sooner, only to remember he had, that morning.
She chewed her bottom lip in consternation then smiled apologetically. "Sorry, Darien, I got a little distracted earlier."
"Ya, it's not problem, ya know. I'm good." He replied. Although that wasn't exactly the truth, he still didn't want to put any more strain on her then she obviously already had.
Touching Rachel on the shoulder to get her to look up from the scope, Claire told her sternly, "I want you to go wait in the hall until I tell you to come back in, okay?"
"Yes, Aunt Claire," Rachel mocked, but grinned to lighten her sarcasm.
"Aunt?" Darien asked, his eyebrows shooting up in question. The girl barely met his eyes as she went to walk past him, but just as she was passing, Darien saw her eyes dilate and the girl swayed unsteadily. He automatically reached out to catch her. Claire jumped forward to stop him, but it was too late.
As the sudden wave of vertigo knocked Rachel off her feet, Darien's long arms easily caught her fall, but in the instant that he touched her a shock surged through him like he'd just stuck his fingers inside an electrical socket. He heard himself gasp, even as he heard the girl gasp. His nerves felt like they were on fire, and then he could hear his heat pounding in his chest, only it was pounding at twice it's normal speed.
Staring down in shock at the terrified white-eyed girl looking up at him, Darien quickly backed up, feeling the quicksilver cover him till he'd vanished from sight. "Oh crap!" He exclaimed, his breath coming in short gasps as he strained to get control over himself. Rachel pushed herself back against the wall in fear and panic.
Claire was at her side helping her up even as she looked around the seemingly empty room. If Darien was pushing till the last second for his shot...she didn't want to finish that thought and ordered, "Darien, shed the quicksilver!"
"I can't!" Darien returned coming to a panic himself as he looked down at his still translucent body. He backed into the chair and exclaimed, "It won't come off!" No matter what he tried he couldn't get his heart rate to lessen, and the dread that surged through him was purged in the next instant by the all too familiar pain at the back of his neck. He cried out falling to the ground still invisible, and then he was suddenly calm again, the toxins taking over. Like a trigger, the quicksilver shed and he looked up at the girls with blood red eyes.
Claire automatically pushed Rachel protectively behind her, meeting the grim smile that played on Darien face as he very calmly stood up and brushed himself off. "Now, that's much better," he stated coolly.
"Rachel, get into the back corner, okay?" Claire murmured to the girl, feeling her leave. Then she swallowed and said to the red eyed demon that was sizing her up. "Darien, listen to me. You don't want to do this. I have the counteragent, let me give it to you, you know you want it."
She could see the craving flicker across his face, but instead Darien shook his head tisking as he did. "Claire, Claire, Claire, Claire, Claire. Why, do you always think, that I want that stuff. It's poison!" He smirked. "I don't know who your niece is, but remind me to thank her for setting me free." He purred.
Claire's face contorted in anger and in the next instant she was diving across the room after the box that held the tranquilizer gun. She had managed to get the latch off and the lid open before Darien reached her and very forcefully threw her into the counter. Her head hit the edge with a sharp twang and reaching unconsciousness instantly, her limp body fell to the floor like a rag doll. Darien stepped over her, eyeing the red the pulsed out the side of her head with a snide smile.
A million desires had already flashed through his crazed mind when he heard the audible click a foot away. Turning he looked at the teenager, the tranquilizer gun shaking in her hands as she pointed it at him. "Please," he said with sarcastic disappointment, but then the girl pulled the trigger, and he jerked slightly as the dart inserted itself into his chest.
Even in QSM he could feel the overwhelming sleep agent taking over. Unable to prevent it, he sank to the ground next to the Keeper. Rachel gasped and the gun fell to the floor in a clatter. Tears weld up in her eyes as she raced to Claire's side. "Claire! No, you can't leave me!" The girl cried in a panic. She had no idea what to do and put her hand over the head wound to stop the bleeding, but no matter how much shaking she did Claire didn't wake up. "Please, no! You can't!" For several long agonizing minutes Rachel's frantic pleas were the only thing to break the deathly silence.
The door to the Keep hissed open and Bobby came in. His eyes went wide when he saw the three on the ground and racing over, immediately asked. "What happened, kid?"
"He..."Rachel motioned to Fawkes and bit down on her lip unsure how to answer. "He went crazy. Is Claire going to be okay?" She asked watching as the man probed Claire's vitals, eyes, and head.
Hobbes frowned worried, there was tenderness, but he couldn't feel a crack. Still, he knew a high-grade concussion when he saw one. He pulled out his cell phone and made a quick call for a paramedic team before he faced the girl. "She's got a concussion, but I think that's it. She's going to be fine," he told her firmly. Fawkes had mentioned a young girl was with the Keeper earlier, he figured this was her, though why, and who she was, he didn't know. Bobby looked at Fawkes, pulling out the dart and using it to motion to the girl. "You did this?"
Rachel nodded. She nervously wiped the blood on her hands to her jeans and firmly grasped one of Claire's hands. The man gave her a slanted grin of approval, then he pulled back Darien's eyelids, looking critically at the red beneath. "My name's Bobby," He told her before he pulled the limp Darien off the ground and lay him on the dentist chair.
"Rachel," Rachel returned swallowing her tears. With someone else there and the paramedics on the way her panic was slowly fading. She clutched tighter to Claire's hand as she eyed the man, Bobby, move about the lab, he was searching through the fridge, various vials, bottles and other chemical containers. He picked up two tubes, both were blue, though the tags on them indicated they were obviously different.
"Why do scientists always have to use numbers?" Bobby softly exclaimed in frustration. Movement out of the corner of his eyes caught his attention and he looked up as the girl hesitantly got up, her eyes fixated on the vials in his hands.
"It's for him, right?" She asked in a trembling voice.
She hadn't exactly indicated Darien, but Bobby figured that's the only person she would be talking about. "That's right," he told her guardedly. Now he was really curious who she was. Information about quicksilver and the counteragent wasn't exactly open to the public!
Yet the girl still continued, picking up the container of blue liquid Claire had used not ten minutes ago to show her the slide. "It's this one," she stated knowledgeably, though her voice still shook slightly as she handed it to Bobby.
Hobbes regarded the girl, then looking at the series of numbers on the label grimly said, "I guess there's only one way to find out."
Rachel was torn between returning to Claire's side in worry, and watching in fascination as Bobby prepped and injected a needle of the blue liquid into the unconscious man. The latter won out and daring herself to step closer, she sucked in a breath of shock when the red snake tattoo on the man's wrist suddenly began to change to green. She unconsciously reached out to touch it to see if it felt different as it changed, but pulled her fingers back at the last second remembering this was what started the trouble to begin with.
Hobbes noticed the reaction in the girl, but didn't say anything as he worked quickly. Darien's eyes were returning to their proper color, the girl had guessed right. He discarded the needle and rubber band in the sink and rummaging through the drawers quickly found what he was seeking for. With deft fingers, Bobby snapped open the smelling salt under Darien's nose, hoping the counteragent had purged enough of the sleep agent for this to work, they didn't have time to let Darien snooze this one off.
With a jerk and a groggy groan, Darien was pulled out of the drug-induced sleep. He was barely conscious when the Keep's door slid open and the paramedic team was lead in by Monroe. "Bobby?" She inquired needlessly but knowing he made the call.
The room was in a slight moment of chaos at that point. Bobby stepped forward as much to explain the immediate situation to the EMTs as he was trying to give Darien a moment to wake enough to make himself inconspicuous. The first real sight that met Darien's eyes was Rachel in an equally nervous gaze. Then they parted, Darien shakily slipping off the chair to back towards the fish, out of the way, and Rachel frantically returning to Claire's side.
Rachel swallowed hard feeling the panic begin to rise in her again as she watched the paramedics expertly take over. They were moving out of the Keep within minutes, Rachel hugging herself against her fears and hesitantly following. Alex met her at the door giving the girl a kind smile as she held out a hand, which Rachel grasped tightly. "Meet us at the hospital when you guys are ready," Alex said over her shoulder.
Bobby nodded, his face contorted in worry as he watched them leave, then he turned to Fawkes. "You okay there partner?" Darien nodded although he still looked like he was on the verge of panic, he was shivering and awkwardly half pacing. Maybe it hadn't been such a wise thing to pull him out of the drugged sleep so soon, Bobby fretted.
Darien swallowed hard, he couldn't stop shaking, but at least he wasn't covered in quicksilver anymore. Still, he wasn't sure if it was from the tranquilizer or...something else. Grief filled him as he turned to Bobby and Darien quickly asked, "How, how's Claire?"
Bobby patted his friend on the shoulder, "She's going to be fine, Fawkes. She's going to be just fine." Then he frowned and at last asked, "What the hell happened? I know you were low, but I thought you still had time?"
"I did," Darien told him but then shook his head, "I don't know what happened. It was her niece, I think," Hobbes' eyebrows shot up at the word niece, but he didn't interrupt. "All I did was touch her, and the gland just sort of," he motioned obscurely in the air. "Fizzed!"
"Fizzed?"
"Ya, short circuited or something," Darien turned and paced for a few seconds, his nerves were finally settling and the shaking subsiding, but the grief refused to leave. "Are you sure Claire's okay?"
*****
"Where is the girl now?" The official asked of his crew late that night. Darien had his head in his hands as he sat in chair across from the Official's desk. Hobbes was in the chair next to him and looking just as uncomfortable. Eberts glanced up from the files he was thumbing through, but it was Agent Monroe who answered.
"She's with Claire, at the hospital." Alex told him, tiredly rubbing an eye from where she stood leaning against the wall. The Official looked dissatisfied causing the woman to add almost sarcastically, "Trust me, she's not going to leave Claire's side!"
"So what I want to know," Fawkes said looking up, "is who is she, and why is she here?"
"Ya boss, is the kid part of some case?" Hobbes added. They'd spent the last half of the day at the hospital waiting till the doctors had at last told them Claire was in the clear. She hadn't waken for more than a minute, but the doctors were quick to assure the agents this was normal, that given a couple days of rest under their watch she'd be back to normal. The news had relieved a lot of unspoken tension, but now they were once again at the Agency trying to figure out what went wrong in the first place.
The Official shook his head in negation to Hobbes' question and stated, "This is not a case. For all legal intents and purposes, Claire is now Rachel's guardian."
"What do ya mean?" Darien asked with a frown.
Eberts pulled out a page from his stack and handed it to the agents beginning his explanation. "Rachel, along with her parents Brad and Kim, have been under the Witness Protection Program for the last six years. We don't know why."
"But in the event of their deaths, that paper states that Claire becomes Rachel's legal guardian." The Official finished.
Darien frowned, searching the paper for Claire's name. There it was, the last half blacked out of coarse, either by the Official, Eberts, or the original writer, it didn't matter. Unable to resist Darien held it up to the light looking for a difference but Alex snatched the paper from his hands frowning down at the document. "This doesn't have any back ground information on her."
"We know," The Official said gruffly.
Eberts looked a little nervous but answered, "Apparently the information surrounding the events and any previous history have been erased. There's literally nothing on both Rachel and her father Brad, but her mother, who we don't believe was her biological mother, was previously Kim Malensky, NSA."
"NSA?!" Bobby said startled. "NSA doesn't mix with FBI and WPP is most definitely FBI!" He stated undisputedly.
"Okay, okay," Fawkes said raising his hands and shaking his head. "So what is she?"
"What do you mean what?" Hobbes automatically asked.
Yet before he could answer Alex suddenly growled out, "She's a kid Fawkes!" Darien looked up startled to see the angry hurt reflected in the woman's eyes. Alex's lips thinned and putting the document back on the table she told them, "I'm going back to the hospital." Then without waiting for permission the woman turned and left.
Darien sighed, exchanging looks with Hobbes. "Keep your eyes open," The Official told them, apparently agreeing with Darien that there was more to it than meets the eye.
*****
Alex walked into the private hospital room a brown paper bag in hand. Claire was asleep, and from the look on the kid's face, Claire still hadn't woken past that all too brief moment in the ER. Alex smiled encouragingly at the girl, closing the door behind her and moving to sit in the second chair, putting the bag between them. "How' ya doing?" Alex asked not expecting an answer and continued. "I brought you some teriyaki, that way if you're a vegetarian, there's at least the rice."
"No thanks, I'm not hungry." Rachel's response was automatic.
"Come on Rachel, I know you haven't eaten all day, you've got to be starving by now," Alex persisted.
The girl shook her head. "I really don't feel like eating right now." Her chair was right up close to Claire's bed and the girl still clutched to Claire's hand as Rachel gazed forlornly at the unresponsive woman.
Alex frowned taking a small breath. Then tried again putting as much lightness in her voice as she could muster. "I think that if Claire knew you weren't eating she's strap you down and spoon feed you if she had to. Please, don't make me do that."
The girl regarded Alex with wide eyes, as if trying to judge whether or not Alex was serious, and for a few minutes Monroe really worried if she'd have to actually hold up to her words, Rachel was a teenager after all. Yet with some relief Alex watched the girl slowly take the brown bag and pull out the container of meat and rice and chopsticks over the fork. Quick to change the subject now that her goal had been accomplished, Alex asked amiably, "I take it you know Claire pretty well."
Rachel nodded, then shook her head. "I used to," The girl told her, picking up a piece of the meat with trepidation that she examined critically before finally putting it in her mouth. The action worried Alex, was the girl expecting it to be laced? Alex didn't really know what happened that afternoon in the Keep, she'd heard Darien's telling and read the preliminary report, but looking at this girl, her guts told her she was just a kid. One who probably feels as if she's just had her life thrown to the wolves.
Rachel played with her rice some, nibbling a bit here and there. Her stomach felt queasy reacting to the little bit she had put in after it being empty and tear filled for so long. She forced herself to eat another piece of meat but finally just put it back on the table in disgust. She glanced at Alex to see if she'd say anything, but the woman just pursed her lips in thought.
They sat in silence for several long minutes, neither knowing quite what to say. It wasn't really an awkward silence, but it wasn't exactly a comfortable silence either. Rachel let out a long sigh, saying with an unsteady voice, "I've moved more than twelve times in half as many years, and you know what's sad? I was actually getting used to it." She looked up at Alex, finding sympathy in the woman's eyes. "This should never have happened, Agent Monroe."
An odd expression crossed Alex's face and she told the girl, "You can call me Alex."
"No one else does," Rachel automatically replied with blunt tactlessness. She colored slightly in embarrassment as she realized this.
Alex's lips twitched in a smile and she murmured, "Yea, I know."
Just then the door opened. A suit pushed his head in and as if to prove Rachel's point said, "Agent Monroe? There's a call for you at the desk, they said it was urgent."
Alex nodded to the man and said to Rachel as she got up. "I'll see ya later, Kid. Take care of her."
"Always," Rachel replied and took one of Claire's hands in her own again, finding comfort in the contact.
Agent Monroe lips thinned in worry and thought but she left with the suit, leaving Rachel once more alone in the room. Rachel felt a surge of emotion swell up unbidden and had to swallow several times to quell it. She gazed with red and dry eyes at the woman's lax face. "Claire, I can't do this on my own!" Rachel quietly exclaimed to the sleeping woman. The emotions inside her surged and Rachel clung even tighter to the hand in her lap. The fingers that Rachel clung to slowly squeezed back.
Darien watched from the end of the hall as he saw the man come to collect Monroe. He hadn't actually seen Claire except through a window since that afternoon. He wasn't sure if he should now, but he was anxious to see with his own eyes that Claire was all right. What had happened early that day had been plaguing him nonstop and he knew he'd never sleep till he knew for sure she was okay.
Awashed with guilt, Darien moved quietly down the hall till he was just outside the door. He was about to turn the handle and go in when he heard the voices and froze.
Inside Rachel gasped with relief as she saw Claire open her eyes blinking back the dried sleep. "Rachel?" She inquired groggily in confusion. "Where's your dad?" she asked against a dry throat.
Rachel's breath caught in a half sob. "Claire, dad's dead."
"Andy's dead?" Claire asked sounding extremely confused.
"No," Rachel told her and added with a voice on the brink of tears. "Claire, please. Try to remember."
Giving the girl a curious look, Claire strained to clear her mind. Rachel could see the wash of emotions crossing over the woman's face, from confusion to realization to shock and then grief. "Brad, no." Claire whispered in horror. Then she looked at Rachel her memories surging back in a rush. "Oh, Sweetie."
Rachel smiled even as she felt the heat of tears once again touch her cheeks. She had done so much crying in the last few days, it was becoming habitual. The thought made her laugh and Claire gave her a questioning look. "Welcome back Aunt Claire," Rachel said happily despite the woman's confusion. She reached out and carefully hugged her, feeling Claire relax as well.
"Whacha doing Fawkes?" Hobbes' voice asked not two inches from Darien's ear causing the man to practically jump to the ceiling in surprise. He'd been focusing so hard on listening in on the conversation inside the room that Darien hadn't even notice his partner come up behind him.
"Ah," Fawkes hesitated adding more guilt to his conscience for getting caught.
Hobbes didn't wait for him to answer and turning the doorknob proceeded Darien inside. The women broke from their embrace as they entered, Rachel giving Darien an apprehensive look. Likewise Darien kept his distance. "Claire, how ya feeling?" Hobbes questioned with a huge grin.
Claire smiled, replying. "Better Bobby, thanks. I take it things are...okay?" She asked carefully.
"Oh ya, no problem. Bobby Hobbes can handle any situation!" Hobbes stated smirking. The tension in the room considerably lightened at that point. Word must have spread quickly that Claire had woken up, either that or medics really do have an uncanny instinct for timing because a doctor came into the room before they really had a chance to talk.
It wasn't long before the doctor was trying to usher them all out. "Ms. Keepley needs sleep if she's going to get better." And indeed it did look like it was all the Keeper could do to stay awake.
"Are you sure that's wise?" Darien asked, he wasn't sure, but weren't concussion victims supposed to stay awake or something?
Hobbes turned his partner by the shoulders towards the door. "Just let him do his job, Fawkes."
"I'm just saying-"
"She's fine Agent Fawkes. Trust me, with a couple days of rest Ms. Keepley will be back to normal." The Doctor told him, then with a frown at Rachel added. "And would someone please take this child home, I don't want to deal with two patients!"
Rachel edged closer to Claire in defiance and frantically sought out Claire's hand again. The Keeper squeezed it comfortingly then fighting back a yawn told her, "Rachel, I'll still be here in the morning. You'll be okay."
Yet Rachel was shaking her head, her eyes pleading. "No Claire, please!"
"I'll be fine. Besides, someone needs to see to Pavlov." It was a lame argument and they both knew it. Considering the long hours Claire often spent at the Keep, Pavlov had everything a near self-sustaining dog could ever dream of. "Rachel, you need to sleep." Claire finally stated in a no-nonsense tone of voice.
"Come on, kid, I'll take you home," Hobbes stated, motioning for the girl to follow him. Rachel did so hesitantly, biting her lip in worry as she looked back at Claire. The Keeper smiled again, then closed her eyes and gratefully let herself fall back asleep.
Darien was quick to stay ahead of Hobbes and the girl, he still couldn't explain what happened before but he didn't want to take any chances, this wasn't exactly the best place to have a relapse.
The Doctor, a thirty-something year old with thick brown hair and black brown eyes, shifted the thick rimmed glasses on his nose like he wasn't used to wearing them. He picked up the chart at the end of the bed eagerly reading through it for several long minutes as he watched the woman on the bed sleep. A confident smile crept up on the man's face but it vanished instantly when the door suddenly opened again, a woman looking in.
Monroe quickly took notice that Rachel was gone and turned angry eyes on the doctor, curtly asking, "Where's Rachel?"
The man smiled, telling her calmly, "You mean the girl? She left with a couple of agents, they're taking her home, she was exhausted."
"Damn!" Alex cursed and glancing at the sleeping Claire was about to shut the door again when she suddenly swung it back open and demanded of the doctor, "Who're you?"
The man's smile never left. "Dr. Green," he introduced, offering a hand. "Dr. Winfield was called into emergency OR, he asked me to check in on Ms. Keepley. Just a routine check up, she's doing fine."
Alex shook the hand buying the excuse and giving the Keeper another worried look left the room in a rush. The man regarded the closed door for a second, then hanging the chart back on the end of the bed he slipped away. A few minutes later another doctor went into Claire's room, careful not to wake the sleeping occupant as he did his routine check and made notes on the chart before leaving. He had been told a girl, the woman's niece, would most likely be in the room, but the doctor just figured she was out stretching her legs.
After thirty minutes of being on hold Alex finally gave up, putting the cell phone away and leaning back with an exhausted sigh. She confirmed that Hobbes and Darien had indeed taken the girl to Claire's and found out from them that Claire had woken up, but Alex still hadn't left the hospital, and her eyes threatened to shut on her. With a small groan she stood and stretched, heading for the vending machine down the hall.
She had been trying to connect with people on the coast for the last half-hour with no success and Alex couldn't help but think everyone else had the right idea of getting some sleep. Yet even as she looked dourly at her options on the machine Alex couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that plagued her.
Paying the outrageous fee, Monroe pushed the buttons and hit the machine a couple times before it finally gave her the cold mocha beverage. Not exactly a coffee drinker, she had to swallow the contents of the bottle quickly, and making a disgusted face dropped the empty bottle in the nearest receptacle. Turning while stifling a yawn, Alex headed for the OR, she knew there was something she was missing.
At the main desk on the OR level Alex flashed her badge asking the young man behind the counter. "Can you tell me when Dr. Winfield will get of OR please?"
"I'm sorry?" The young man asked perplexed.
"Dr. Winfield." Alex repeated annoyed. "When does he get out of OR?"
The young man gave her a startled expression. "Dr. Winfield went home a couple hours ago." He frowned checking some electronic chart. "Dr. Cook is the doctor covering all his overnight patients."
"Who?"
"Dr. Cook." The young man was once again startled as Monroe suddenly took off running down the hall. Monroe only slowed when she reached Claire's room and could see her still there through the crack in the blinds. Catching her breath, Alex went in. She picked up the chart, dread rushing through her when she realized the name of the signature.
"Alex?" Claire mumbled groggily as she opened her eyes surprised to see the agent there.
Monroe pushed all her feelings away giving the woman a hopefully convincing smile. "Sorry Claire, I didn't mean to wake you."
"What are you doing?" Claire asked, finding it more than suspicious that Alex was looking at her medical chart. She tried to push herself up on her elbows to see better, but her muscles felt dead.
Alex quickly put the chart back and coming around the side of the bed gently pushed the woman back down. "Claire, don't. You're supposed to be sleeping this off, remember?"
"But what are you doing?" Claire persisted trying to come more awake. It felt like an impossible challenge.
Monroe just smiled again. "I was just curious, that's all. Go back to sleep, Claire," she ordered.
Claire didn't want to, but she knew the other woman wouldn't leave till Alex was sure she was asleep, and from the moment Claire closed her eyes she lost all chance of staying awake. Alex saw the woman's breathing relax and inwardly sighed, carefully retreating. The second she was out in the hall again, her cell phone came back out with an angry snap.
*****
Rachel lay frozen in the middle of Claire's bed, Pavlov curled up in a ball at her midsection, but his presence was little comfort in the still of the night. She stared hard at the closed door, trying for all her might to calm down long enough to fall sleep, but she knew it was impossible so she relented to the terror instead, just waiting for it to be morning so it would end.
Pavlov came awake, his head lifting, ears perking as if they heard something. With a small whine the dog turned and licked Rachel's face before heading for the door sniffing at its bottom. Knives crawled up Rachel's back and she felt like her heart stopped in fear. Shaking nervously, she pulled back her covers and got out of the bed. Her instincts bade her hide, but looking frantically around she realized she was trapped. Moving quickly she opened the window, her shaking limbs making it even more difficult to get the lock off and when it snapped open the sound was tremendously loud in her ears.
Freezing again, Rachel strained her ears trying to hear what Pavlov heard, but there was only silence. This is silly, she thought, but the fear was a much louder voice and she looked back out the window at the tree three feet away. Maybe if she stretched, or jumped. That was a big maybe.
Turning frantically from the window she looked for other options, would they look under the bed? In the closet? Rachel sized up the closet thinking they probably would, but then she suddenly spotted something that brought an idea to mind. Pavlov whined more anxiously, spurring Rachel into movement.
*****
"Okay Monroe, what the hell's going on!" Hobbes demanded just outside the Keeper's house. Alex had only gotten there a minute before Hobbes and Darien, having called them on the phone to meet them there.
She was looking at the darkened windows then around the streets. "Look I'll explain everything after we make sure Rachel's safe."
"Why wouldn't she be?" Darien asked and added suddenly in alarm. "What about Claire?"
"She's fine, I've got a someone watching her now." Alex told him impatiently. She pulled out her gun and checked the clip.
Hobbes followed suit, frowning in worry. There were too many questions still, but Alex had a point, check on the girl, then find out the truth. "I'll go around back, just give me a minute to get there," He offered and took off for the alley that led to the back of the house.
"Ready?" Alex asked Fawkes after a minute. He made a face and shrugged, not feeling comfortable storming the Keepers place but obviously not allowed a say in the matter. A minute later they were at the door and Darien found himself picking the lock. The second he got the door open Monroe was inside, her gun in front as she silently inspected each room. Fawkes waited cautiously back by the stairs, lacking a gun meant that if there was someone here, he was more likely to get hit first. He thought he could hear Bobby coming in the back door, them a glimpse of movement drew his eyes upwards but it was gone a second later. It could have been Rachel, though he doubted it, and going invisible, Darien quietly ascended the steps.
At the top crouched on the floor, a gun raised to aim over the edge of the stairway was a figure dressed from head to toe in black. Darien figured it was a man judging from the build, and he was ready and waiting to fire at anyone who came into view. Lucky for Darien, he wasn't the viewing type.
Praying that the floor had no loose or creaking boards Darien carefully approached the gunman, then in one swift movement he kicked the Gun out of the man's startled hands. Taking full advantage of the man's shock Darien put in several hard punches. "Hobbes! Monroe!" Darien called out shedding the quicksilver once he had the guy on his stomach and looking the other way.
The two agents came pelting up the stairs, Hobbes pulling out cuffs and taking over for Darien. "Where's Rachel?" Alex asked urgently. Darien moved down the hall to Claire's room, but when they got there, all they found was Pavlov limp on the ground with a dart in his side. Alex went over to the open window looking down with a frown. "I'll check the other rooms," she said leaving quickly.
Darien pulled the dart out and picked the dog up. "Ah, little buddy," he crooned softly, but was rewarded by a weak woof before Pavlov began to vainly squirm in his arms. Darien put the drugged dog down on the bed scratching him behind the ears. He too walked over to the window, realizing that someone agile enough probably could reach the tree, and someone desperate enough could do the two story jump if they felt they had to.
Alex finished her search and informed them that the house was empty, but by then Darien could already hear the sirens of the approaching police. He figured Hobbes had called them, to which Bobby confirmed when he came into the Keeper's bedroom saying, "Monroe's taking our perp to meet the boys in blue." He walked over to Darien glancing out the window. "So the kid bailed ship, uh?"
"Wouldn't you?" Darien asked bluntly.
Hobbes nodded. "Yep. Running's the smartest thing to do, my friend."
"No one ever believed me when I said that," Darien jested though he frowned with worried. The girl could be anywhere by now, did she even know how to get to the Agency? Would she want to go there? He had an idea the only place the girl would go would be the hospital, to Claire, the one person she knew.
Hobbes huffed out a disgruntlement as he lead Fawkes back out of the room commenting over his shoulder, "That's because it doesn't apply to you!"
Fawkes smiled but then suddenly all the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end and he froze. Bobby stopped as well, noticing his partner shiver. "Spidey sense working there pal?" He asked.
"Yea, overtime!" Darien stepped back into the room searching for the girl with no success. Then his expert eyes fell on the cover to the attic above the closet shelf. He motioned to Hobbes and flipping the light on reached up with his long arms to push the cover in. It wasn't easy, especially for someone so tall, but Fawkes finally managed to get his head and shoulders through the opening to look around the black low ceiling attic.
Inwardly his thoughts couldn't help but run along the eight-legged kind, and then he questioned, "Rachel?"
He heard a gasp a few feet in, the shivers wracking his body increased in intensity. "Rachel?" He tried again trying to keep his voice as calm as possible. "It's Darien. Everything's okay now, you can come down."
"A-arre they g-gone?" The girl's voice stuttered out to him in barely a whisper.
They? Darien thought wondering if they had missed someone, but no, if she was up here the whole time she probably didn't know how many. "Yes," he told her firmly. "It's all safe now. Really, you can come down, it's okay," he encouraged.
After a minute he heard her begin to inch towards him and Darien quickly backed out. "She's coming out," he told the anxiously waiting Hobbes. Darien shivered one last time then, and steadily began to brush himself off. He hadn't felt any cobwebs, but he had to be sure.
Rachel appeared at the hole and reaching up, Hobbes helped the girl down, surprised when her arms circled around him and ultimately refused to let go. Her body was still shaking and he awkwardly led her over to sit with her on the bed. "It's alright, Kid. Everything's just fine now." He smiled at her put a comforting hand around her shoulders.
With relief Darien noticed the girl looked fairly webless. "Can you tell us what happened?" He asked cautiously.
Rachel curled her legs, letting her hands fall to her lap. Now that the rush of fear was edging away she felt foolish in front of these men. "I don't know, really. Pavlov woke up, and I was afraid, so I hid. I heard some noises, that was it." She looked at the sleeping dog, reaching over to pull him into her lap. Pavlov woofed softly then promptly fell back asleep.
"You did the right thing," Hobbes told her encouragingly.
The girl seemed to be calming down now, but she looked up suddenly afraid again. "What about Claire?"
"Your Aunt's safe, she's being protected." Alex stated with a smile coming into the room. She asked, "Where was she?" Fawkes pointed to the hole in the closet. "That's clever."
*****
"Here let me get it," Rachel said and was jumping up to get the jam from the fridge before Claire made it out of her chair.
Claire made a face. "You know I'm not crippled Rachel!"
The girl turned back, an all too innocent expression on her face, jam and ketchup in hand. "I know." For the two days prior, instead of being in the hospital where she should have been, Claire had been in the Keep. Claire had told Rachel it couldn't be helped, that there was some sort of time restraint, and although Claire refused to vocalize any details to the girl, Rachel had guessed it was about Darien and the blue stuff. She had been right, and even though Claire wanted to keep the girl in the dark as much as possible, it was obvious she would need help. So for those two very long days Rachel stuck next to Claire at all times, providing any source of help possible in making the magical blue liquid that kept the demon at bay.
"Do you really have to go in today. The Smurf juice is done, can't you just call in sick?" Rachel asked putting the jam on the table, Smurf juice being what she had nicknamed the blue stuff. She poured some ketchup next to her breakfast of dried toast, looking down as Pavlov put his paws on her leg blatantly begging. The teenager dipped a finger in the ketchup holding it down for the dog to lick. His tongue rolled in and out with distaste and the dog was finally persuaded to get his own food.
Rachel watched the dog with a smile, they had always moved too much for any type of pets. "Rachel," Claire said getting the girl's attention. "I don't know if things are ever really going to be normal," She told the girl as if sensing her thoughts.
Rachel sighed. "Yea, I know, but I still dream." They ate in silence then for a bit and then quickly moved on to a happier detail. Claire was keen on prompting the girl into telling her bits and pieces of the last six years, providing the teenager with attentive ears to all sorts of adolescent tales.
An hour or so later they stood outside the Official's office, each looking at the door with mixed feelings. Since the break-in they hadn't heard much in the lines of who the guy was, except that he was working solo and they didn't believe Rachel or Claire were in any more danger. At least, that was what they'd been told. Claire had been able to stave off any questions with the excuse of working on the counteragent but that was done and she wasn't looking forward to this briefing.
"I want you to wait out here," Claire told Rachel sternly before going into the room.
Rachel let out a long exaggerated sigh and slumping against the opposite wall slid down to wait as patiently as she thought she could. The footsteps were the first thing Rachel heard, then she could see the toes of the black boots that came to stand next to her before she looked up at Agent Monroe. "Hello, Alex." Rachel greeted blandly.
The woman smiled. "You're a strong kid, Rachel," Alex told her, referring to her sense of character rather than a physical strength. "Take care of your Aunt, okay?"
"Ya, sure." Rachel frowned. It was such an odd thing for agent Monroe to say. Then Alex, too, stepped into the dreaded Official's office. Sighing again Rachel looked around restless. A blue dot stuck to the floor caught her attention.
Alex inwardly wanted to step back out and join Rachel, the tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife, but schooling her features Alex walked over to the fourth chair and sat next to the Keeper. "Thank you for joining us Miss Monroe," The official stated gruffly.
Alex didn't bother with any apologies, in fact, she didn't bother waiting to hear from the Official why they were all there but went ahead and put in her piece of information. "Our Dr. Green is really Ed Reynolds. A contracted hitman to kill Rachel's father. He set up the accident and followed Rachel here to clean up loose ends."
"How do you know all this?" Darien couldn't resist from asking.
"A friend in Internal Affairs called me a few days ago-"
"IA, that figures," Bobby grumbled under his breath as Alex talked.
The woman paused ever so slightly but continued on "-about a leak in the FBI. The agent was found dead late that night and they found several files from the WWP at his house, including details on Brad, Rachel's dad's, last known alias in Chicago. I was at the hospital when I found out."
"Do we know who put the contract out?" The Official questioned.
Alex shook her head. "No, but it was specifically for Brad, and as far as we can tell no one else followed the lead here. Rachel should be safe."
"Should," Claire stated giving Alex an angry look. "You knew that night in my room, why didn't you tell me?" She suddenly asked the woman.
"And what would you have done?" Alex calmly retorted.
Darien cleared his throat, "Um, so to get back on track here, guys, don't you think it'd be good to know why they wanted Rachel's dad dead? So we know what we might be up against?"
"Yes," The Official stated even as Claire said, "No!"
"Um, okay." Darien shifted in his chair.
Claire give the Official a venomous look. "I don't want her mixed up in anything around here."
"Claire, I think it's a little late for that," Hobbes said as gently as possible.
"No Bobby. It's not. And there's absolutely to need for any of you to know anything about her." Claire angrily proclaimed.
"I beg to differ," The Official told her. "We've already had one incident with the girl, can you guarantee there won't be another one?"
"Claire, we just want to help," Fawkes said hoping to tone down the harshness of the Official's words, but it didn't do any good.
Claire's eyes were like daggers as she told the Fat Man, "Fine. I quit."
"What?" The shock was evident on everyone's faces. "You can't quit, it's against your contract!" The Official stated undeterred.
"Section eighty-four cee, In the event any previous contracts supercedes current contract in an act of national security, pending authorization, said employee is hereby relinquished all current contract requirements on the condition that said employee leaves all identification, records and material pertaining to current contract with said employer. Authorization Echo Zulu Niner Four Six Delta Foxtrot Three" As she was saying this Claire stood up and pulled out all her IDs from her wallet and anything else with the name Claire Keepley on it.
Everyone stared at her completely lost in shock. "You can't leave, Claire," The Official ordered.
Claire put the nearly empty wallet back in her pocket and with dangerous eyes told him, "Consider me reassigned, Charlie." Then she walked out leaving them speechless in her wake.
Rachel scrambled to her feet the moment she saw the expression on Claire's face as she emerged. "What happened?" The teenager asked quickly.
Claire just took her hand and walking them down the hall said, "We're leaving."
A second later Darien was out of the office and racing towards them. "Claire! Claire, wait!" He grabbed her shoulder turning the woman around. Rachel cautiously stepped a foot back. "Claire, what is going on? What about the promise you made me, I'm depending upon you!"
"No Darien," Claire told him sternly although her features softened considerably. "You depend upon the counteragent. There's a fresh batch in the Keep and everything else anyone needs to make it. If you're careful the Official should be able to get someone on the team in time to make the next one. They may even be able to do what I can't."
"Claire-" Darien tried again, but she cut him off with a raised hand and a tired smile. "Be good Darien," she told him then pointedly turned and continued down the hall. Rachel followed, looking guiltily over her shoulder at the tall man. She knew know what was really happening, they were leaving, really leaving, and it was all because of her. Rachel had expected to see anger in the man's brown eyes as they met her parting gaze, but all she saw was an odd mix of fear and pity.
Claire refused to look back.
The dictionary defines the word Lost as such; to fail to win; to be unsuccessful in retaining possession of; to be unable to retain control; to be without direction; to waste; to be damned; and to fail to hear, see, or understand. I wonder how much the Agency just lost. As for myself, I feel like it's all of the above.