Previously on Fix It...

He loved her. It was there, he could feel it. Just like that morning in the kitchen. It shouldn't surprise him. The memories, the feelings, coming back to him- it was almost inevitable. But he hadn't been prepared. Too much was different. Too much had happened. He shouldn't still feel the way he did that day in Phoenix. But he did.

'He let his eyes close. Tried to fight the feeling down, make it stop. But it didn't work like that. This wasn't something he had control over- it never had been. He had tried in Dallas, he had tried in Malta. God, he had tried so hard to let her be another one of the girls, another part of the job. But she never was- even that first day.

Then it hit him.

He remembered everything.'

They let her take a shower. They gave her clean clothes and decent food. If it weren't for the ache in her muscles and the way she somehow didn't see a single soul who didn't have a weapon, she might have almost been able to forget that she was trapped in an undisclosed location being held by a group of…she didn't even know what they were. All she knew was she hated them and she and James needed to get the hell away from this place.

They didn't take her back to her cell. Instead the guard led her to a different hallway. It wasn't a shipping container like she originally thought. It was some type of underground bunker with the walls made of metal instead of concrete. Teresa assumed that the walls leading out of this place were concrete otherwise the metal would be eroding or something.

They went up a flight of steps and down another hallway before the guard pushed her into a room and shut the door behind her. There was a metal desk with stacks of papers on one end, a bookshelf that held exactly two books- The Art of War and The Communist Manifesto. There was a leather rolling chair behind the desk- out of place with the rest of the furniture- but two metal folding chairs were on the opposite side of the desk. She sat in one of them and tried not to fidget. There were no computers or TVs- nothing electronic at all that she could see…

Except for the camera in the corner of the room.

Someone was watching her. She wasn't surprised at this point. It just reinforced her need to stay calm and in control. These people had seen her vulnerable too often. She straightened in her seat, hiding a wince at the way moving increased the ache in her shoulder, just as the door opened behind her.

She turned to face the newcomer and was met with the old man who had been at her house- the Director. He walked slowly to the desk and sat in the leather chair. His eyes were trained intently on Teresa's and she had to fight to keep from shuddering. A moment passed before he directed his attention to the door again. She didn't look this time- somehow looking away from this man seemed like a dangerous thing. But she still felt James' presence as he stepped into the room and took the seat next to hers. The door closed again and the three of them were left alone.

"Has James explained the terms of my proposition?" His voice sent a flash of unease down Teresa's spine, but she kept her face neutral. She nodded, not ready to speak yet. The Director didn't seem to be bothered by her silence as he only smiled before turning to James. "She is so hard to read. The mystery of her is as alluring as her beauty." Teresa saw James tense out of the corner of her eye. But he didn't speak and she kept her focus on the man in front of her.

"This country was fallen into disgrace. What was once the most powerful country in the world has been reduced to a debt-riddled, profit-centered corporation. And it has brought the rest of the world down into the pit of depravity with it." Teresa glanced over to James and was relieved to find that he seemed just as thrown by what the Director was saying as she was. James' eyes caught hers for a second and the edge of annoyed confusion made her breathe a little easier. "It is our mission-our duty- to restore the balance. But in order to achieve our goal we need people like you, people like Ebony and myself."

Teresa felt her lips curl in disdain at the mention of Ebony, but focused on the meaning behind the Director's words. She held up a hand to stop him from continuing, taking more pleasure than she should at the annoyed expression that crossed his face at being silenced. "Exactly what do you mean by restoring the balance?" And what do James and I have to do with it?

The Director glanced at James- almost as if to remind himself that he was still present. Then his eyes were back on her. "Ms. Mendoza, it is purely a principle of physics. Like matter, this world- our individual countries- cannot be destroyed. Not truly. But they can be reformed, recreated into something wholly different. That is our duty- that is our destiny. Remove the government- the structures of power- as we know them. Then recreate the country as if should be. No presidents, no moneyed elite. But a world ruled by order and chaos is equal and efficient measure."

It didn't make sense. She was hearing the words this man was speaking, and she understood the meaning of them as individual words. But together…Together they were illogical, irrational- the twisted dreams of a deluded old man. Yet Teresa could see that there was no way he would ever accept that. And he had an entire organization that was willing to fight and kill for this cause. Her mind felt like it was racing and frozen at the same time.

James leaning forward in his seat reminded her that she wasn't completely alone in this. He had to be just as lost as she was. So she watched him- focused on him to keep from falling into a spiral of what-ifs. "You want to overthrow the government? Create an anarchist state? Destabilizing the government would affect more than just America. It would screw with the global economy."

But instead of making the Director question his idea, rethink his plans James' words had the man nodding along in agreement. "Exactly. The fall of America is the fall of the world. We would be sent back to a time of equality and freedom that has been missing for generations. We would find ourselves at the precipice of discovery. Not of technology or some new useless species. No, we would be discovering the true meaning of what it means to exist. Survival of the fittest. Enhancing our genetic potential by letting the weak, feeble-minded, torpid of our species be eliminated via natural selection."

There was a gleam, a frantic light in his eyes that caught Teresa's heart and squeezed. It was insanity, it was terrifying. She couldn't speak. She could barely form coherent thought. But she could see it in her mind- this destruction he hoped to cause. Children being left to fend for themselves as their parents were killed by 'the fittest'. Elderly people being pulled from hospitals or nursing homes, the equipment being needed for 'more important' things. A girl -Lil' T's age- bleeding to death because her need to experience life as a young adult- her need to find herself- is seen as laziness and will not be tolerated in this new world.

"We will usher in an era of greatness not seen by any generation before us. And you two are going to be a part of humanity's new destiny."

He was fucking crazy.

For the first time James was genuinely afraid of how much control these people had had over him. Because if they could manipulate his memories, could brainwash him as completely as they had, who the hell knew what they could have made him do- and forget- in service of this psychotic mission of theirs.

And the Director- the fervor that was so obvious in his voice and the way his words seemed to fill him with a vitality he had never had before…fucking crazy. But James didn't dare say that- not in front of him. Not with Teresa in the room. Because one thing he did know was that none of these people were above using the people you cared about to forced cooperation. So he kept his mouth shut. He didn't look at Teresa. He waited for the Director to say why exactly this mission needed James Valdez and Teresa Mendoza, specifically.

He didn't have to wait long.

"My people- my family-has been growing and expanding for years- each member of our crusade honing and perfecting their areas of expertise. But we always need more- we always need the best. This mission cannot be done with mindless soldiers or visionless thinkers. This mission needs minds that can adapt and foresee any and all outcomes. It needs soldiers who can lead as well as follow and be successful in either role." The Director reached across the metal desk palms up in a mockery of supplication. James leaned back in his chair to distance himself- the old man didn't notice. "Your stories have gone before both of you. Within the world of criminality you both have reputations of greatness. And that greatness is why we need you."

It took a while for James to realize that the Director was waiting for one of them to speak- his face expectant and hopeful. But there was a hint of threat- the reminder that there were ways to ensure cooperation no matter what answer they gave. But what the hell was there to say? Still he glanced over at Teresa taking in her barely concealed shock. "What happens if we refuse?" James already knew the answer. They would break them and manipulate their minds until they had no choice but to agree. He still needed to hear the words.

Sometimes it's better to know you didn't have a choice.

The Director widened his smile- the same creepy smile James had seen his very first day in this compound. "Mr. Valdez, believe me when I say that any doubts you may have will be eliminated in due time." James stiffened- a vague sense of danger in the words. But the director didn't pause. "Our collection will be complete as soon as you agree to the terms and Ms. Mendoza undergoes initiation."

He remembered his initiation. He remembered how he had been beaten and broken so badly he had lost track of time and place. He remember the injection they had given him that had somehow had him healing days before he should have been only to have him thrown back into fight after fight where death or victory were the only options.

No matter what the hell else happened, James would not let that happen to Teresa. So he reached across the desk to shale the Director's hand. He kept his voice light as he agreed to this madness. And when the guard came to take them back to their cell, James didn't try to fight his way out. Because acting recklessly stopped being an option the night he held her while she had nightmares about losing him.

Because he wouldn't risk Teresa.

They went to a different room- his room.

His clothes were folded neatly on the shelves in the closet. The few books he had been loaned still on the nightstand. His bed was the same neatly-made bed he had left. But the memory of Cyan holding his hand after a nightmare- a nightmare caused by these people- kept it from feeling as welcoming as it once had. Now it was tainted by the lies and machinations that had surrounded every action Ebony and Cyan had taking with him.

Still, he felt like he could almost relax. He felt as if his mind could finally start to process everything that had happened in the last days, weeks, and months. Starting with removing the cameras in the room. He turned to Teresa and found her hovering close to the door, looking more unsure than he had seen her in a while. He was about to ask when he followed her lien of sight to the bed.

Of course.

Ebony.

"It didn't mean anything, Teresa." James had to hide a wince at how cliché the words sounded. He knew the fact that they were true didn't make it better. "The trust I had in Ebony wasn't real- it was based on lies. And any loyalty to her I may have felt is dead now." Teresa just nodded before turning to face the rest of the room. He knew she was pushing the feelings down, trying to focus on their current problem. And since there wasn't much point in rehashing the whole thing, James let it go.

She walked to the dresser and ran her hands along the edges and undersides. He moved to the headboard of the bed and did the same. The sooner they found whatever bugs hidden in the room, the sooner they could figure out a plan. When he finished with the headboard he took off the mattress and checked the frame. Teresa had already moved on to the closet. He didn't miss the way her fingers trailed along the sleeve of his white sweater. She had always ended up in it back in Phoenix, sleeves so long on her that only the tips of her fingers would show.

He watched from his bed as she walked to his closet, black panties the only thing she wore. The muscles in her back danced lightly under the smooth skin he could still feel on is lips as she sifted through his clothes. Her slender fingers pulled his white sweater from its hanger and he watched the hint of a smile tip the corner of her lips upward. Then she was pulling it over her head, pushing her arms into the too long sleeves. When she turned to face him he lost the ability to breathe. The white against her tan skin, black panties just barely peeking out from under the hem where her left hand had gathered the fabric at her stomach as if she was unsure of how he would react. 'Come here.' His voice was lower than it should have been, raspier too. But he didn't care and he knew she didn't either. Then she was back in the bed, crawling over him. His hand slid under his sweater and across the softness of her waist. 'It looks good on you.' She gasped as his hand moved higher. 'You should take it back off, though...'

"James?"

Teresa's voice brought him back to the present and he realized he had been staring. He shook his head at her silent question and forced himself to refocus on sweeping the room of bugs and cameras. He turned to the dresser mirror, knowing that Teresa had left it for him since he was taller. It took less than a minute to find the camera that Ebony had used. He had to resist the urge to smash it into a hundred pieces. Instead he added it to the piled that Teresa had started on his dresser.

Then it was done. The room was empty of any surveillance equipment as far as they could tell. James kept himself from reaching for Teresa at the sigh of relief she let out as they destroyed to last device. No matter that he remembered everything, no matter if he knew without a doubt that he still loved her as much as he had in Phoenix, he still needed time. They both still needed time. And being in the middle of this…mess…wasn't helping.

He leaned against the dresser, arms folded, "We need to be prepared for the possibility that we may not be able to ride this out like we thought." Teresa turned to face him as he spoke, eyes somehow showing everything and nothing. "If we try and fight our way out, they'll most likely separate us and do what they did to me all over again… to both of us." He paused to let her speak, but she didn't- just kept watching him with her carefully blank face and too expressive eyes.

He took a step closer to her, arms falling to his sides. He wasn't sure if it was to relieve his own stress or to try and reduce hers. "Teresa, this isn't going to be like when you ran in Dallas or hid from Epifanio." He watched her take in his words, shoulders dropping, before he continued. "My initiation was…" He didn't want to explain it, the details weren't important and they would only make her feel guiltier than he knew she already did. "I was the one who came out alive. That might now be how things go for you but I still think some hand-to-hand training won't hurt."

Last time he was with her, memories intact, she hadn't known much. But that was a year ago. A lot had changed since then. He knew Pote would have taught her if she asked, but James didn't think she had. Charger would be reluctant and Teresa wouldn't want to pressure him. James' mind tried to shy away from the other person who might have taught her. But he couldn't. Javier would offer. Javier would annoy her until she gave in. and he would teach her right. Still, the thought of another man touching her, holding her, keeping her safe for reasons beyond a paycheck…

You didn't remember her a week ago and now you're jealous of a hypothetical training session? He shook his head and waited for Teresa to respond. "Okay," she said, hands clutching the hem of her shirt tightly. "But we have to do it here. I don't want to risk anyone showing up." He nodded- he had already decided the same thing. "Javier tried to teach me some things, but…I don't think I trusted him as much as I should have so it never really happened."

James felt like a dick for being relieved at her words. Any advantage she had in this life was only a good thing. It shouldn't matter who helped give her that advantage. Yet, knowing that didn't make the relief go away. "So, we start now. We move the mattress into the closet, break down the bed frame. Pushing the furniture into the corners of the room should give us enough room not to hurt ourselves too much." They could get through this- she could get through this. He felt a hum of excitement- glad to be doing something. He hadn't been there before, not when she needed him, but he could help her now.

"Okay," she said, smile just lifting her lips.

She was going to make it out of this place, he swore it.

"Okay."