Things that happened between chapter twelve and now:

-Darren continues to deal with his blindness�

-Leonie is bossy...

-Darren and Daniel probably have lots more sex because they are hot, randy gents�

-Daniel and Darren have a large, angst-ridden fight about Darren wanting a more complicated surgical procedure done�

-Make-up sex is had.

-The motley crew flies back to the States for Darren's surgery (except for his parents, who I apparently didn't feel like writing into this story at the time)...

-Darren enters the hospital to have a craniotomy.

And here we go�

When Darkness is Upon Your Door (fast-forwarded to the end)

Daniel�s POV

Time had slowed to a crawl, I was sure of it. It had only been three hours since Darren had been whisked away to surgery, and I grew more restless with each passing minute.

Seeking solitude, I left the others in the waiting room and made my way to the elevator, down seven floors, and out to the well-manicured area outside the hospital�s main entrance. There I sat on a rough concrete bench, my body practically buzzing with pent-up nervous energy as I forced my eyes to not stray toward my watch for what would have been the twelfth time in almost as many minutes. For lack of anything better to do but stare blankly out at the parking lot before me, I withdrew a slightly crushed pack of cigarettes from my pocket and proceeded to light one, hoping that this particular vice would calm me down some. Darren�s doctor and the special neurosurgeon the hospital brought in to perform the complicated procedure had both warned that Darren�s surgery was expected to take several hours, and I had no idea how I was going to make it through.

Though infinitely more patient than Darren, waiting was still not one of my strengths.

I watched the sun set from my bench, absently taking in the wonder of the colors � bright oranges and golds turning to dusty pinks before slipping silently into gray. My thoughts strayed back to Darren the entire time I watched. I thought about the fight we�d had when he told me he�d made his decision � that he wanted to undergo the admittedly more dangerous craniotomy procedure his doctors had discussed with him to remove the tumor and, hopefully in the future, regain his sight. At the time, I�d been angry and scared; I told him the risks were too high, the possible benefit not enough.

His hand had found mine, squeezing strongly.

�I�ve never liked the dark� I hate it, actually,� he told me, simply, his fingers warm and comforting around mine. �And I�m not, and have never been, afraid of taking my chances. I want to see again, risks be damned. Any possibility of seeing anything again is better than no sight at all!�

And that was that.

Looking at the setting sun, and knowing how moved Darren would have been by the beauty of it, I began to realize at that moment that he was right. He had always seen the world in such a unique way; I couldn�t begrudge him the chance to get that back.

But I could worry like hell in the meantime.

* * * * *

It was dark outside when I finally gave up my spot on the bench. Standing stiffly, I dropped the remainder of my last cigarette to the ground, crunching it underfoot as I stretched protesting muscles. Wearily as I walked back indoors, I allowed a glance at my watch to find that just over an hour had gone by. Making my way back upstairs, I found part of the group in the hospital cafeteria. Deciding to split into shifts, Angie, Lee, and Elisa had been sent back to the hotel for a little while to shower and sleep. Leonie, Karl and Ben remained behind, promising to call the others if there was any news. Leonie was actually not talking for once; she sat with the others at a corner table looking tired, quietly sipping coffee, her cell phone momentarily silent. Ben, it seemed, had given up all pretense of staying alert; he was napping, face pillowed against arms resting on the tabletop, snoring softly. Karl, half-heartedly watching the evening news on the television in the center of the room, looked far more awake than the other two put together - the obvious result of too many cups of coffee.

�Finally decide to quit chain-smoking like an idiot and put something of substance into your body?� Leonie asked with a sniff when I arrived at the table, her nose wrinkling as she caught the heavy smoke sent that still clung to my clothing.

I shrugged, sheepishly. �Yeah, I guess,� was my only reply as I poked disinterestedly with a plastic fork at whatever it was on my plate. �Waiting on my own wasn�t passing the time any faster, so I thought I�d come wait with you guys for a bit.�

�You could always go back to the hotel for awhile,� she suggested, her tone sympathetic. �You could use the rest.�

�No, I want to stay here. I promised myself I wouldn�t leave him.�

The silence stretched between us.

�Has there been any new news?� I asked finally, throwing my fork down to reach across and steal Karl�s newest cup of coffee. It wasn�t like he needed it, anyway.

�Nope. Not yet. But I�m choosing to take this as a good sign,� Leonie said.

Silence overtook us again, as four hours turned to five, which turned to eight and finally ten. Halfway through the procedure we were given a brief update � Darren was stable, the surgery was going as well as expected.

After eleven hours Darren�s doctor finally emerged, and I pulled myself to my feet as soon as I saw him, anxiously waiting for what he�d say. He approached our rag-tag group with a small smile on his face, which had the lot of us relaxing almost as one.

�Good news, then?� Karl asked.

�It went well,� he told us. �We removed the tumor, though it was trickier than anticipated. Still, Darren came through the procedure quite well. He�s being moved to a recovery room now until he comes out from the anesthesia. After that, in a few hours, he�ll be settled into a private room where you�ll be able to see him.�

�Thank you, doctor,� Leonie spoke for us, the gratitude in her voice mirroring my thoughts exactly. The relief hit me then, a heavy crushing blow after hours of worry, and suddenly my knees gave way, sending me back into my chair with a solid thump.

�Daniel?!� Hands gripped my shoulders then, keeping me upright. �Dan, you okay?�

�Just tired,� I managed to slur out. �Tired, and happy. He�s going to be okay.�

�That he is,� Leonie agreed, �That he is.�

And we were right.

* * * * *

Darrens POV

I woke up confused, but not in pain. My world was still dark, my body heavy and uncooperative, and my brain� was pleasantly fuzzy. Everything seemed disconnected somehow. All around me I could hear countless voices talking all at once, buzzing in an endless drone. Nearby, in a spot somewhere above my head, I could hear a rhythmic beeping sound, which sped up the more awake and anxious I became.

A heart monitor, my bleary brain supplied finally, as I settled back in bed.

It was then that I noticed the heavy warmth covering my right hand. Weakly, I shifted my arm, my body still unwilling to take orders from my still-drugged mind. The grip around my hand tightened and I heard myself make a raspy, inquiring little noise.

�Wha� huh?�

Startling awake, Daniel�s hand squeezed mine once in reaction before letting go. �Daz?�

�Dan-?� My voice was barely audible, but somehow Daniel heard me.

�You awake?� he asked, his hand moving to grip mine again. �How you feeling, love?�

�Fuzzy.�

I could hear his throaty, amused laughter and the sound warmed me. �That would be the drugs they�ve got you on,� he assured me. �How�s the pain? Okay?�

�No pain. Fuzzy,� I repeated, losing my battle against consciousness. �Sleep now.�

And the world faded away.

* * * *

The whole gang was in my room the next time I woke up. This time I was a little more with it, a bit less confused and I endured plenty of petting and gentle hugs from all of them before they began talking at once, making my ears ring as I struggled to follow the conversations. A nurse finally came in and quieted them, before checking my vitals and asking me questions to test my alertness� or my IQ. I wasn�t quite sure which. I was happy to be assured that the surgery went well, and that my doctors were pleased. I was even happier to hear that, if things progressed smoothly, I�d be released from the hospital in a couple of days.

�You look like a mummy,� were Ben�s first words to me once the nurse had left again.

Had my eyes not been bandaged along with the rest of my skull, I would have been rolling them at him � sightless or not.

�Thanks, mate,� I said, sarcasm plain, though my voice was weak and rough. I felt Daniel at my side in the next moment, his hand on my shoulder and a spoon at my lips.

�Ice chips,� Daniel explained as I opened my mouth to accept the slivers of refreshing coolness on my tongue. The melting ice felt good on my throat, soothing the roughness. He kept spooning me chips of ice, wetting my dried lips and mouth, until I�d had enough.

�Thanks,� I told him, this time sincere.

�Better?� he asked, though he already knew the answer.

�Mmhmm,� I agreed, feeling suddenly sleepy again.

Warm lips brushed gently over mine, followed immediately by a chorus of childish snickering from the foot of my bed.

�Piss off, the lot of ya,� Daniel mock-growled at our fellow bandmates. I smiled, and Daniel�s hand settled warm and solid on my shoulder. Settling back against the slightly uncomfortable mattress, I could feel those elegant guitarist�s fingers trailing up and down my arm, soothing. Calming.

I yawned, fighting to stay awake.

When Daniel spoke again, his voice rumbled softly against my skin as he whispered, �Go back to sleep, Daz, it�s alright.�

So I let myself drowse as Daniel�s hand continued to rub gentle circles on my arm, lulling me deeper into sleep.

The next days passed in much the same way. Brief stretches of awareness followed by long periods of dreamless, heavy sleep. Each time I woke up, I felt or heard the confirmation that Daniel was still by my side, and knowing he was always around brought me an almost indescribable sense of safety and comfort. Soon, I was able to stay awake in longer stretches as the pain meds were tapered off.

I was released three days after my surgery, pronounced fit and able. Leonie - completely in her element - took control of my discharge from the hospital, organizing transport, prescription medicine pick up, and the scheduling of future doctors appointments. I was to report back in a week so that the doctors could check the stitches in my head.

The rest of our bandmates were pretty great throughout my recovery. Whenever Daniel wasn�t around, which was a very rare thing, Karl and Lee were always there to fetch and carry for me. Angie and Elisa went out and bought me what Daniel assured me was a truly audacious hat to cover my bald head whenever we ventured out in public.

When my stitches came out and Ben heard I now had a metal plate in my skull, I thought he�d kill himself with laughter. Only a sharp Daniel-elbow to the gut shut him up.

I still had my very own seeing-eye Daniel/guard dog. It made me smile.

The recovery process was a long one, and not all of it went smoothly. Slowly the apparently livid scar on my head healed until it no longer felt tight or hot or sore to the touch. The ridges left by the stitches felt odd under my sensitive fingertips and often Daniel would have to swat my hands away from rubbing the misshapen skin.

The optic nerves took the longest to heal. Weeks later, after the bandages came off my eyes, I was disappointed to find that my world was still black; I couldn�t even shed any tears at this revelation because crying, I�d discovered, hurt my head and irritated my eyes too much.

Slowly though, so very slowly the darkness around me� lightened. I thought I was imagining things at first, but the black that was my world became dark gray� which became a lighter gray until finally, finally after months of endless night, I could distinguish light from dark.

And then one morning, after I rolled over and snuggled down into the warmth of Daniel beside me, I opened sleepy eyes and, for the first time, could make out a distinctly person-shaped blur lying on white sheets in bed next to me. I was elated. Though my world was still mostly darks and lights, it was like a fog was slowly lifting.

After that, each little improvement was a joy. I spent a lot of time as my sight strengthened staring at Daniel, though he didn�t mind. "See anything you like?" he'd ask, smiling that brilliant smile of his.

I would usually grin right back, and let my eyes drink him in all the more.

Colors slowly returned, even if complete clarity didn�t. Merely being able to tell one hue from another gave me no end of pleasure. Seeing sunlight streaming in through the windows, glinting gold in Daniel�s hair. Letting my eyes drink in the perfect tint of beautifully tanned skin, as flawless in color as it was under my fingertips. Watching the pink of Daniel�s lips darken to a rosy, kiss-bruised red as I teased his mouth with mine. Those were colors I treasured.

The world no longer came into focus with the sharpness it once had, but as I�d told Danny all those many months ago � blurry vision was far better than no vision at all. I was given a pair of strong prescription eyeglasses along with strict orders to never be outside without sunglasses, and avoid over-taxing my eyes. Still legally blind, never again would I be able to truly see without the aide of my glasses. I won�t complain, though; it seems a small price to pay to be able to see anything at all.

And with or without the glasses, I can clearly see the most beautiful color of green in the world whenever my Daniel looks at me. Though he�s no longer my seeing-eye Danny, he is still my guiding light.

-end