The question was simple enough. He was truly bewildered as to her intent and she was aware of it. But she didn't think she could explain. She felt safe here. Safer than in a lab or building for that matter filled with weapons, poisons, and god knows what for him to get his hands onto. 'No, stop that,' she told herself. 'It's Darien. It's just Darien.'

"Claire?" the question came again.

"Because my bed's here, Darien," she joshed as she set the glass down. "I intend to sleep the rest of this injury off if you don't mind." She emptied her glass into a parched ivy and rolled the stiffness from her neck.

"No," he answered quickly, "I think that's a good idea actually."

"All right." She moved around him and headed to the stairs leaving her clothes lying on the couch where Darien had left them.

Darien stood at the foot of the stairs watching her ascend. She walked into her room and disappeared around the corner of the door which she left open. He heard her bed squeak as she lied down. He closed his eyes and shook his head. 'What was this?' he asked himself.

He made his way back to the kitchen and quietly began opening cupboards, drawers, snooping out of habit. Not sure what he was looking for. Just knew he needed to start somewhere. The silverware tray clanked loudly as he slid it open, he thought he had given himself away. He strained his hearing toward the stairs expecting Claire's curiosity to get the best of her. But there was nothing. Giving up on the kitchen, he made his way to the couch and sat down.

"Come on, Darien, do this." Elbows on his knees, he rubbed his face trying to beat the fatigue setting in. He had been awake for 24 hours, or maybe even longer. No one would tell him anything. Last thing he could remember was it being Tuesday. And he and Hobbes were scouring the agency for bugs. "Focus, damit," he told himself forcing himself up off the couch. He stood in the middle of the room turning circles. "Not here."

His attention turned to the stairway next. Frustrated with himself for doubting it, he headed to the landing. Grabbing the rail post, he took a few steps up and stopped. His hands were shaking and he lost his grip for the sweat they were producing. "Damit," he cursed himself as he wiped his hands on his jeans. Massaging the back of his neck, he kept his eyes on the bedroom upstairs. It only made sense. She would keep it up close. Any valid information would be safer near her.

Working in his stealth mode, Darien crept up the stairs without a sound. He peered around Claire's door as he reached her room checking to see that her eyes were closed and she seemed comfortably asleep. He momentarily paused to ache for her. The pain she must be in…it killed him. 'No, just do this," he pushed himself as he crossed the threshold into her room and began surveying the walls.

Walking over to her dresser, he glanced in the mirror at the woman sleeping behind him. Her breathing seemed slowed so he trusted she was asleep. He thought this her attempt to show him she still trusted him. He had no idea how she could. He just knew it wasn't going to be easy to end that bond. But he was going to.

He began opening drawers, boxes, anything that he could get his hands on. Looking for anything to help, he became frustrated at his first attempt. The dresser had nothing. He moved over to the couch sitting along the wall next to him. Lifting cushions, he tossed pillows and magazines onto the floor. Still nothing. 'The painting,' he thought exitedly. With one quick movement, he had the painting off the nail taking in the blank wall behind it. With a sigh, he placed the painting back on it's perch and stood back. It didn't make sense.

He had been here once before, had haphazardly taken in the place, looking for safes, hiding places….and had seen nothing. But he was sure he could this time. This time it meant something.

"Don't…move…" came an angry voice from behind him. "Turn around."

Darien did as he was told and was greeted with the barrel of a gun pointing at his head. She stood only 10 feet from him allowing him to see her searching his eyes for any signs. But he didn't say a word. Let her think what she wanted.

"What are you doing?"

"Looking for something." Honesty. He'd better go for honesty.

"Mind telling me what?" Her tone of voice was jovial wrapped in anger. A voice he was getting used to.

"Well, you see…" he said with a tilt of his head, "I'm not exactly sure." Attempting to hide his shanking hands, Darien began reaching for his pockets.

"Keep them out!" Claire yelled as she moved closer to him. "Darien, as much as I hate to admit it…right now, you're scaring the hell out of me. Just don't move, ok?" There was pleading in her voice. He felt for her and nodded, crossing his arms. She was new to this.

"Fine, Claire. I don't move, you point that gun a little more to the left, hm?" She furtively glanced down at the gun. "I'm not goin' anywhere. I don't want you to be afraid of me." That was the last thing he wanted right now. Not when he needed her the most. "Look at me, Claire." Darien slouched down eye level with her. He wanted her to see his eyes. He wanted that trust right now that she was always preaching.

Slowly she lowered the gun but didn't let go. He could see her hands trembling. This wasn't easy for either of them. It was killing them.

Darien watched as Claire lowered herself to the bed holding her gun weakly in her left hand. She was exhausted and it showed. He knew she would be easy to handle if the time came. "Claire, I have to ask you something." She didn't look up. "Claire?" Still nothing. All she managed was a nod. "But I want you to put the gun down, ok?"

Angrily, she slammed the gun down on the bed beside her and grabbed at the bridge of her nose. "What is it Darien?"

He carefully walked closer to the bed, grabbing the stool she kept next to her dresser and dragging it with him. He sat it down in front of her and diverted his eyes.

"Claire…" he trailed off. God, he had no idea how to ask this. Here in front of him was a woman who he had taken into his life. Had trusted with that life, and now was forced to turn the tables on her. She hung her head, hand still at her face. He eyed the gun and began.

"I've learned something, Claire. And I need some things answered from you." It got no response. She didn't move. "I know about you and Arnaut."

With a lightning fast response she shot her hand out and reached for the gun as she rose from the bed. But it was gone. Turning around, she came in contact with the barrel only a few inches from her face.

His eyes needn't be red for her to see the anger swelling behind them. Her mouth hung open in shock as her heart felt as though it would beat out of her chest. The shaking was immanent. Her life crashed…right there in front of him.

"I want to know." Never before had he felt the way he did just then. Betrayal shot through him like ice and it ached all over. He wanted to scream, to act out…but he held a life in his hands and he refused to give in to his emotions. Not in a million years did he expect her to react this way. He expected denial, tears, lies….but she had reached for the gun. She panicked. She didn't want to talk about it, she wanted to hide it.

Claire closed her eyes and took a deep breath. 'Calm yourself right now,' she ordered herself. She regained her composure and straightened her back, boring her eyes into the barrel of the gun. And then she turned them onto Darien.

"It wasn't supposed to work this way, Darien," her voice shook and she berated herself for it. 'Do this!' she warned herself, 'do this right.'

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"You didn't need to know. I was taking care of it." She took a step towards him and watched him take one back. No, he didn't want to hurt her. She had done her job. She was his friend. And he wanted nothing more than for her to bear her sole and make it so again. It killed her to use that against him.

"Taking care of it?" he asked disgusted. "What were you gonna do, Claire, hm? What? Were you one day just gonna put me under and take care of everything?"

"No, Darien, it's not like that…"

"Then what the hell are you talking about?!" he screamed as he shook the gun at her. He began pacing but never took his eyes off her.

"What do you know?"

"Oh.." he laughed, "I know more than I'd like to but the facts are…" he waved the gun around the room, "it's out there Claire. I know about you and Arnaut. I know you've been in contact with him for four months now. And yeah…" he paused crossing the room to stand menacingly over her, "I know it was you." This he said with as much hate in his voice as he could muster. "You tampered with the counter agent."

He knew too much. She stared up at his dark, angry eyes and gave her best attempt at sympathy. "You're right, Darien. You're absolutely…right." He took a step back, shocked obviously at her admission. Her glare seared through him. "You know everything. And I want you to know more." She quietly sighed as she lowered herself back down onto the bed.

Looking down at her, his heart leapt. His emotions were moving so madly inside him he could hardly contain himself. His pacing increased and his hands would not stop shaking. He rubbed at the pain in the back of his neck, the tension was insurmountable. There had to be something. She had to have a reason and he didn't doubt she did. He looked down one instant to see the woman he had befriended…trusted. The next moment, he blinked, and saw only hate and betrayal.

"Claire, whatever reason you had for this, I want to know now. And fast. Because I'm on an edge right now that I don't think I'm coming back from."

"Darien, you need to calm down. You're adrenaline level…"

"To hell with my adrenaline level!" he shouted at her and watched her jump as he bent over her. "And to hell with you! If it hadn't been for your damn placebo or whatever the hell it was you put in me, we wouldn't be here right now! So quit with the medical mumbo jumbo and tell me what the hell is going on!"

His hands had steadied, she noticed as she looked up at him. They were too steady. "All right, Darien. All right." She swallowed the lump in her throat and looked away from Darien and the gun. "He contacted me four months ago, that much you know. He wanted my help. And of course I refused…at first."

Darien snickered and took two steps back giving her a chance to catch her breath and stop the thudding in her chest. "Darien…he's my brother." The pause that followed lasted an eternity. Neither one of them could look at each other. Neither of them wanted to know what the other was thinking. Tears formed in the corner of Claire's eyes as she swallowed back the knot in her throat. She had to go on. She had to tell him.

Darien swayed as he took it in. He gripped tighter on the gun as he pulled the stool under himself and sat down. "What?" he asked in a quietly astonished voice.

"He's my brother, Darien. When I was six and he was ten, our parents divorced and my father took Arnaut to Germany to live. I stayed in Sydney with my mother until she passed when I was 24. She was all I had, Darien…" she choked back the tears that wanted nothing more than to stream from her.

"But you knew…" he started. "You knew it was him that killed Kevin.You knew he tried to kill me."

"I didn't, Darien, not at first. Not when I started on your project."

"No…no, I don't believe that." Turning his head away from Claire was the only way for him to remain in control of his emotions. He could see the tears in her eyes. The hurt that was so close to the surface.

She watched as the muscles in his neck went rigid and he set his jaw. She knew she was getting through to him, however painful for him it was. "We kept in contact for many years. But then one day he up and disappeared. Going to this school and that, it was hard to find him. So…eventually….," she pressed her eyes shut, "we lost contact completely. Until four months ago."

"And yes, by then I knew. I knew what he had done to you, Darien. And to Kevin."

"Then why'd you do it? Why'd you agree to help him?"

"Because, Darien, in some sort of twisted way I was hoping he would see what I saw in you…in your project. The good that could come of it."

"He wouldn't, Claire….he won't."

"I had to try."

"You could have killed me." This with such emphasis it stung her.

"Yes…and you could have killed me."

They let the words hang there between them. They now both watched each other intently waiting for each other to speak first.

"You switched the counter agent, though, Claire. You did it. Is that what he wanted?"

"Yes. It was. It was a different formula, Darien. Serving the same purpose…just his. And I want to believe it could be a good one. I want to believe he could help."

Looking at the floor he asked, "Would you have given me to him? When I needed it?"

"I believe that answer to be "yes" old friend," came an all too familiar voice from the doorway.

Darien threw himself off the chair and swung around to face the door, gun pointed directly at Arnaut who returned the action with his own weapon.

"I think you've said enough, Claire," he directed towards her as she slowly rose from the bed. "It looks like my sister has too pure of a heart, Darien. It's only a shame she didn't realize this sooner. It would have saved us all a lot of trouble. Thank you for the call, though sister. It was a wise decision."

Darien watched Claire out of the corner of his eye as she walked to table beside her bed and retrieved a small, hand-held radio. She watched Darien follow her as she walked over towards Arnaut and handed him the device. She took a few cautious steps away from her brother as she backed into the room.

"You'll be coming with me now," he directed at Darien as he cocked his gun.

"I don't think so, Arnaut," he replied as he cocked in return.

Claire stood watching the two men battle each others consciousness into giving in. "Arnaut…please."

"That's enough, Claire. Tell your little experiment here how important it is for him to cooperate right now. Go on…"

"Arnaut…you can't do this."

"I?I believe you mean 'we' my dear," he answered her with a wry smile. "You earned his trust, you lured him here, you got the call out…" followed by a long, drawn out pause, "You gave him the unloaded gun."

Darien's heart sank as he realized he hadn't checked for bullets. His gaze went from Arnaut to Claire, searching her expression for what he was hoping would be an honest reaction to what her brother had just said. With a faint nod of her head she brought it all crashing down.

"Aw crap!" he helplessly yelled as he jerked the gun off of Arnaut and slammed open the chamber…..empty. The sliding of metal on wood brought his attention back to the woman standing across from him. She was sliding a pistol from behind her dresser mirror. She opened the chamber slowly and shamefully showed Darien the bullets encased inside. "No," he uttered. "Claire."

"I'm so sorry," she said as she closed the gun and looked up at her friend. "I'm so sorry it had to be this way." She glanced to the doorway at her brother who stood there smiling at their scene then quickly turned to lock gazes with Darien. With tears streaming now from her eyes, down her blue swollen cheek, Claire cocked the gun. He never lifted his eyes. They were as dark as she had ever seen them. There was pain there she knew she could never erase. There was a trust lost she never expected to win back. And so she let it be.

The explosion filled the room in an instant, leaving only a stream of smoke rising in front of them. He hadn't even blinked. He had watched her do it. Claire dropped the pistol and openly wept as she turned to look down upon the body of her only brother lying at her feet, covered in blood…their blood.

She took the two steps needed to get to him before collapsing to the floor sobbing. She placed her hand over the open wound on his chest and applied all the pressure her shaking form would allow. She couldn't hold herself up as the weeping overtook her. Her arm gave way under her and she fell over Arnaud't body and listened as his breathing slowed.

Darien walked the shaky mile it took to cover the distance between him and his brother's killer. Standing over him and seeing Claire's tears mix with the blood pooling on Arnaud's jacket, he was suddenly on the ground himself. On the ground rocking his dying brother to his final sleep on that cold, harsh floor. Shaking the image clear from his head, he reached into his back pocket and found his phone.

She could only hear his breath now. His heart was so quiet and yet she still pushed with all her might at the hole in his chest to stop his heart from killing him. 'Please God, don't. Don't take him,' she whispered as she watched her brothers pained face.

"There's an ambulance on its way, Claire," Darien said from above as he pulled her away from her brother. He placed both of his hands on the bullet entry and with all of his might, tried to stop the blood from coming. Claire sat back, rocking on her heels, watching her dear friend trying to save his enemies life.

Claire walked into the building quietly, not expecting much out of the day except for more meetings, more paper signings, more hell. Having her shoulder out of its harness for the first time in weeks, she felt like she could fly away. She just hoped she could avoid conveying that to the panel of people she had to speak with today. The panel of people who wanted her life story written in blood, and more than likely a signed confession to treason in more of the same.

Walking down the corridor she had traveled so many times before, she slowed as she passed the laboratory doors. She no longer had her key, it was the first thing they had stripped her of. But she walked to the card slot anyway and placed her hand there. 'One day, Claire. You'll be back,' she thought to herself.

Turning to head to the conference room where her jury awaited, she stepped right into a body behind her, jarring her sensitive shoulder sending a scorching heat down her arm. "Bloody hell!" she uttered through closed lips.

"Sorry."Her head shot up at his voice. She hadn't seen him in weeks. He stepped back to give her room but not out of the way. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, Darien." She wasn't sure she could talk to him. What could she say? This scenario had played itself out a thousand times in her mind these past few weeks but never had she thought… "I didn't expect to see you."

"Yeah, I uh," he began shoving his hands in his back pockets, "I wanted to be in there you know? Wanted to make sure they got the whole story."

"Oh, Darien. I don't know if that's such a good idea."

"No, you're probably right," he replied. "But I'm going anyway." He shrugged his shoulder as she began to protest. "Don't, Claire. Just…don't tell me no. I need to be in there. I saw it go down. I saw what you had to do."

She straightened her back and took a deep breath. "One day I hope you'll see why I did what I did."

"Day's already here," he smiled at her. "Look, Claire," he started as he swung his arm over her shoulder and began leading her down the corridor. "You thought you could handle it alone. You were wrong. And you paid for that mistake. So did your brother." This last remark brought a shadow over her face he had been trying to keep from appearing. "And he's gonna be paying for a long time."

"Darien," Claire stopped him and turned to face him. "I loved my brother. And in some ways I always will. But I want you to know, that no matter what, I understand completely that there will never be enough punishment in the world for him for what he did to you…and your brother. If he was anything like you, I know he was a wonderful man."

"Thank you," he said wrapping her into his arms and kissing the top of her head. "And I know you only wanted this all to end well." She smiled warmly as the realization hit her that he really did understand.

She pulled back from him, grabbed his face in her hands, and kissed his cheek. "I thank the powers that be every day for all the love in your heart, Darien."

Flashing an embarrassed smile at her he started them walking towards the end of the hall. "Let's just not let that get around, okay? Hobbes would never leave it alone." They laughed comfortably as they strolled their corridor.