A/N: T'was a bit delayed. I apologize. But hey! New episode last night! And Lourdes actually got some important moments, too! She saved Captain Weaver's life! (And then Anne kept talking for her and I was all like 'WTF, let the lady speak!') Anyway, there was also some nice Jamil moments too, great fodder for toying with Lourdes' emotions. (I feel so evil.) So, without further ado, off we go to chapter two. Sorry to disappoint all of you hoping for some of Hal's perspective BUT this is still Lourdes-centric. Hal's POV comes in next chapter (consider it incentive to review and keep reading!) Speaking of reviewing: please do it! Thanks :)
PS: Random side note: LOOK! I ADDED A CHAPTER TITLE! And I intend to from here on out...
She didn't recognize her own voice when she sang. She hadn't ever sung much, not even when she went to church. She'd mostly just mumble the words, always self-conscious about her singing voice. But after Jamil…was lost…she found herself singing more often. Singing for him, because no one else did. He hadn't mattered so much to anyone else.
"Sublime gracia del Senor. Que a un pecador salvo…Fui ciego mas hoy miro; yo perdido y el me hallo." Her voice was lilting, melodic, mournful and haunting, almost like a sorrowful birdsong. The tears streamed down her face and she clutched the rosary close to her breast, fisting the chain as if that would somehow make him materialize in front of her. How she longed for him to just sit down beside her, put his arms around her, tell her everything would be okay. But it was only silence and the sound of her own broken voice. "Su gracia me enseno a temer, mis dudas ahuyento. O, cuan precioso fue a mi ser cuando el me perdono…" And then she couldn't carry on, couldn't sing that tearful Spanish funeral hymn any longer because a thousand sorrows filled her and she was trembling now, her sobs audible, laced with grief and agony. She hadn't cried like this since the first night and it occurred to her that this was the first stop they'd made since he had been taken away from her. Every mile was an unbridgeable gap between them, every rotation of the tires carrying her further and further away from the man she'd once loved. And now that they'd stopped, so many miles away, the weight of everything crashed into her full force and she found her grip tightening around the rosary even more.
I miss you. I need you. I love you. The thought struck her quickly, without rhyme or reason. It was something she never would have said before, never would have dared to think before but now, sitting in this godforsaken bus, weeping for a man who should never have been taken from her, she felt fully justified. And with jaw clenched, a note of stinging in her voice, she uttered the phrase lowly, "There is no God." The rosary clattered to the floor and she stood up, all the sadness replaced with anger. Anger with the skitters, anger with herself, and anger with God. Why did He let this happen? If He was so great and mighty and forgiving then why didn't He look with pity on His once-faithful daughter who tried so hard to keep His word and His name alive? Why did He allow her to be hurt in such a hideous, unfathomable way? Why would He even let this whole invasion take place? There was no God, not to her anymore. Tears pressed at the back of her eyes, stung them. She was shaken down to her core as she collapsed in a fit of tearful rage on the ground, weeping and moaning and wailing like she hadn't had the chance to do before. "There is no God!" And though she may have hated God for letting this happen, she knew in her heart that she hated herself more for saying it.
"Hope's all we got." That's what Jamil said to her the first time her faith was shaken, when that boy Diego had told her that Parras had been wiped out, her tio and tia with it. But you were my hope, Jamil. And I don't have you anymore. And if she didn't have him anymore, then she didn't have hope anymore. It was the most painful feeling of despair that welled inside of her now, filled her up to the top and spilled over with her tears that just wouldn't stop falling. Because she truly had no hope left. Hal was gone, Jamil was gone, God was gone.
She picked up the first specimen jar on the counter, empty, and hurled it across the room, the shattering glass mimicking the shattering of her heart, her hopes, her dreams. The next specimen jar followed, slamming into the same point and falling apart on the ground. Then the third. And the fourth. And by the fifth jar she couldn't see anymore, couldn't feel anymore. She knew it was childish, pointless, that she was hurting herself more than anything else but she was indifferent to all of that.
Anne finally came rushing in by the time the seventh and final jar hit the wall and cracked into hundreds of sharp pieces. It was good timing on the doctor's part because Lourdes was certain that in another few moments she likely would have used those shards to cut herself up, let herself bleed out on the ground. The woman took in the sight before her and immediately rushed to the broken girl's side. Lourdes was surprised that Anne wasn't angry, wasn't even upset about the specimen jars or the mess. The doctor was hugging her, rocking her back and forth like her mother did all those years ago when she was just a little girl, cowering in fear of the gunshots outside their Mexico City apartment.
"I'm sorry…" she whispered the phrase, let the tears roll of her parted lips as she said it. But she didn't know who she was apologizing to. To everyone. To Anne for the mess and for breaking those jars. To Jamil that she hadn't loved him properly, hadn't fully appreciated everything he was to her until after he was gone. To God for saying such a thing, for speaking without meaning it.
"It's okay. You're okay," Anne was stroking her hair now, brushing her back gently to soothe her.
She ran a hand beneath her eyes, sniffled. Anne gave her a weak smile that she tried to return. Only she knew the face was more of a grimace than a smile. "I'm sorry," she repeated, her voice carrying all the remorse it possibly could. It only occurred to her now that there was a faint drumming noise outside. Raindrops. It had rained that day too, almost like the heavens themselves were crying, echoing her misery. Anne remained there, comfortingly stroking her hair and running a gentle hand up and down her back until she finally fell asleep, the tears not fully dried yet.
Surprisingly, it wasn't Anne that woke her in the morning. "Lourdes!" The dark-haired head swam into view and she took in the handsome boy standing above her, looking down, concern etched into his features. She sat up quickly.
"Hal?" Glancing around, she realized that Anne must have laid her down in one of the patient cots. There were still fragments of glass lying about the floor but most of it had been cleaned up by now. Hal was actually kneeling, watching her closely. "W-what are you doing in here?"
"Anne asked me to keep an eye on the bus while she was gone—said you were really upset about what happened and that she was worried."
Lourdes rubbed her eyes, realizing how swollen and puffy they were. Her throat felt parched and hoarse and her face was tight-feeling from the dried tears. In short, she was positive that she looked like a general wreck. "I'm fine," she said.
Hal laughed humorlessly. "Not in the least," he countered. "So what gives?" She looked at him incredulously. "I mean," he corrected, "why now?"
She shrugged, entirely unsure herself. "I don't know," she admitted. "It's just…this is the first chance I've had to really sit and think about it and…" she stopped, her voice strangled by a barely-suppressed sob. She buried her face in her hands.
"Hey," Hal's voice was soft, soothing, close to her. "I know you're hurting right now, we all are. Jamil was an awesome mechanic. He did a great job looking out for all of us. But don't you think he'd be upset to find us all sitting around moping?" Lourdes looked up at him. "I think he'd tell us to keep moving, to get to Charleston, to regroup. And then we stick it to these bastards, huh?" The grin was meant to be encouraging but she really couldn't bring herself to smile back. His face fell. "Lourdes, c'mon…"
"I know!" she said, voice rising. "I know he'd want us to move on but you…you just don't understand, Hal! He may have been a friend to you but he was more than that to me!" She couldn't help the feelings of anger stirring in her again, couldn't suppress them. No one understood exactly how much Jamil meant to her, least of all Hal. He had been the one to pick her up after Hal had just abandoned her like that. He had been the one to comfort her through her struggles. And how dare Hal come in like this and try to comfort her. How dare he? Her breathing was ragged as she glared at the boy, who was clearly surprised by the outburst. She had never yelled like that at anyone before, not even her own sister or her parents. To be honest, it almost scared her. She cleared her throat awkwardly and looked away.
"I'm sorry," Hal mumbled, carefully avoiding looking at her. "I was being insensitive and…I'm sorry. I know he meant a lot to you." There was a note of seemingly misplaced sadness in his voice, like he too was suffering.
"No, I'm sorry," Lourdes finally heaved a sigh, genuine remorse in her voice. "I'm just…it's just…it's too much and I overreacted and took out my anger on you and I'm sorry." The words were a rapid stream, like she couldn't get the apology out fast enough. Just don't let him get up and leave. She was starting to enjoy having someone around to keep her company. She needed that.
Hal chuckled lightly. "If that's your worst then I should consider myself lucky…most people would've punched me in that situation. I would have punched me."
Lourdes shook her head but froze when Hal's arm made its way around her shoulder. It's just a comforting gesture. Don't read too much into things, this time. But it felt nice to have that—an arm around her shoulder. Jamil used to do that for her all the time. Jamil. The tears were building pressure at the back of her brown eyes again, one or two spilling over. Hal noticed them with concern.
"You alright?"
No. No, I'm not alright. I'm a quivering mess of emotions and nerves right now and I miss him so much! "I loved him," she finally said, her voice distant, wistful. But…was she talking about Jamil or Hal? Both were equally true.
"I know." Hal's voice was barely a whisper as a melancholy air settled over the bus. A shrill beeping from his watch indicated he was needed elsewhere and he was up in a quick motion, the warmth of his arm no longer present. "I have a patrol," he said regretfully. Lourdes nodded.
"Thank you," she said softly.
"Don't mention it," Hal did his best to smile encouragingly but it was obviously forced. He bent down and picked something off the floor. The rosary! "Think you dropped this," he said, handing it to her. She took it from him.
The weight of what she'd said last night hit her and the chain felt like lead in her hands—dead and heavy. "Thanks," she repeated, this time with less enthusiasm. The rosary that she kept with her for so long suddenly felt like a foreign object to her. Hal opened the bus door and stepped out. She could see the rain still falling steadily, lightly. Raindrops. It described how she felt inside perfectly.
A/N: Lots of introspection on behalf of Lourdes this chapter. I think I may have made my brother cry a little when he read this…Anyway, next chapter will be from Hal's point-of-view. I wonder what prompted him to return to Lourdes and comfort her? Well we'll find out soon enough! The song Lourdes was singing in the very beginning is just Amazing Grace (but obviously the Spanish version). It's a popular Christian funeral hymn. And Lourdes' rejection of her faith—how was that. I wanted something forceful, that would have an actual impact. And it's going to take a lot to fix not only her relationship with Hal but also with God. That's going to be a struggle for her now, as well. I'd appreciate reviews on this chapter. It would persuade me to write some more, you know. Sorry it was short but I wanted maximum impact and I think any more words would have detracted from the story over all. So anyway, you may deposit your reviews in the handy review-receptacle, AKA that box thingy write down below. Go ahead and write something in it. You know you want to…!
