Sounds of Screaming:

-Chapter Forty-Four: Done With You

Author's Note: Updating with a hangover...the most difficult task on earth! Why must laptop screens be so bright? Lol, anyways, I hope everyone enjoyed their New Year celebrations as much as I think I did...can't remember much of last night ;)


Help me, save me,
Tell me that the end is near
Help me, save me,
Tell me that the end is here
I am done with you

Because you and me are through
You couldn't help me
You couldn't save me
Now I know the end is here
I am done with you

~ "Done With You" – Papa Roach


Silence.

Neither of them spoke, neither of them wanted to. The quiet was deafening, robbing them of any sound they could even try to make.

Fear and dread robbed them of their voices.

Natalia watch the Spaniard, carefully from across the room. After Aaron had left, he had retreated to the office where the Muslim's corpse now lay, returning seconds later with cleaning equipment and a pale, grieving expression.

He then started cleaning the vast blood pool without another word, only small escaping whimpers echoed up to her.

The Spaniard, down on hands and knees scrubbing at the crimson smears, watched his own tears fall into the pools of bleach and blood. Once his master had left, he'd rushed away from the cop, not wanting anyone to see his weakness.

I've seen too much blood for my lifetime...I didn't need to see more...

Pushing the memories of the bombings, the screaming, the blood, he'd witness only years ago, the Spaniard attacked the crimson with a new vigour. The past and present fear, grieving and worry made his nerves bounce with adrenaline.

The women, the children, they cried and bleed and I could do nothing...

The flashbacks attacked his conscious, bringing him back to 2004; he was in his hometown of Madrid. A simple trip on a train, planning for the beach, was suddenly interrupted.

Terrorist bombings...

The Spaniard's world was suddenly torn apart, quite literally. The explosions ripped out from the centre of the tram, blowing benches, poles and people through the windows and up both directions of the tram.

When he finally came through, and recovered from the blurred vision and sharp pain in his left arm, the Spaniard's instincts turned to his military training. Though he was trained in the arts of sniper shooting, he'd received the basic survival training while in the Spanish Army.

He checked for any survivors...but there wasn't any.

Fresh tears welled up in the Spaniard's eyes as he scrubbed at the blood furiously. He panted with effort, shudders rippling through his chest.

Moving along the blood trail, he didn't look up but knew he was near enough to the cop. He cursed under his breath but didn't look up, feeling her eyes on the back of his head.

She looks so much like my Sara...it's painful...

Thinking of his wife, the Spaniard wondered how she was. She knew what he was doing, working for a madman like Aaron Vincent but she also knew the reason why. She loved him even more for doing this, for helping kill that cop Dan Cooper and now hurt this one.

For you my Sara, I give my soul.


Natalia continued watching the Spaniard as he wiped up the Muslim's blood. Despite only being a few feet away, he didn't look at her, ignored her as though she wasn't even there.

But his attitude wasn't what captured her attention; a small golden locket was hanging freely from his neck, an inscription visible to her.

A Mi Querido Esposo…

Taking a chance, she broke the silence. "Tiene usted una mujer?"

Though she had heard him speak English, Natalia hoped speaking in his native tongue would make the Spaniard soften up a little.

It worked. The Spaniard slowly looked up at her, hesitant to make eye contact. His expression seemed forcibly cold, as though he was masking his true emotions.

"So what if I've a wife." His Hispanic voice was gruff, strangled slightly by his previous tears.

Natalia was quiet for a moment, thinking. The Spaniard seemed so…out of place compared to Aaron or the Muslim. He seemed kinder somehow, lacking the evil they had.

He seemed like a good guy, somehow caught up in this dark mess.

"Then why are you doing this?"

The Spaniard flinched, as the though the question physically hurt him. Glancing over his shoulder at the crates, his eyes were filled with fear, afraid his master would appear from them at any moment.

Natalia noticed the fear in his eyes, leaning forward, as far as her restraints would let her.

"Is he making you do this?"

The Spaniard looked back to her, his eyes watery and begging. "Please…if he sees me talking to you, I'll be cleaning up my own blood!"

Fear, Natalia noted, Aaron's controlling him with fear.

Noticing his chain hanging out in plain sight, the Spaniard gripped it protectively, gently tucking it back under his grubby jacket. Natalia watched him, his behavior towards the locket, and an answer formed in her groggy mind.

"Did he threaten your wife?"

The Spaniard froze, eyes watery and wide. How the hell did she guess that?

Hiccupping once, he decided to tell her the truth. "If I didn't help him…she'd be in that chair right now….I-I-I'm sorry but…I rather it be you than her."

Though she felt crushed, Natalia understood him. She had seen this before, sacrificing someone else for a loved one's safety.

She'd seen it happen even within the lab.

Though it took awhile for them all to figure it out, the team had pieced together why, when organizing his own shooting, Horatio chose Ryan over Eric or Calleigh.

The Lieutenant was obviously closer to those two than Ryan, and at first, it made no sense to trust him with such a dangerous task. Especially when he'd just returned from forced leave after lying during an investigation.

Natalia had been the first to figure it out between her, Calleigh, Valera and Frank. Horatio chose Ryan in order to protect Eric. Eric then confirmed it to Calleigh later.

She had to change tactics. With the Muslim now dead, it left Aaron and the Spaniard. If she could get him on her side, she stood a chance of survival.

A very, very slim chance…but it was all she had.

"You don't have to do this. It doesn't have to be this way."

The Spaniard smiled weakly, though it wasn't out of humor. "Yes…it does."

Natalia felt her new hope fleeting; she desperately needed the Spaniard's help. "No, no it doesn't. If you help me out of here, testify that you were forced into it, you'll get a deal."

The Spaniard lost his watery smile, shaking his head. "Yeah, like the police would take my word over his. He is one of them, and I'm already in the system!"

Natalia was silent, for a moment she just looked into the Spaniard's wide brown eyes. She saw how much he did want to help her; all he needed to do was conquer his fear of Aaron.

"I'll be there with you….please…."

The breaking in her voice broke the Spaniard's heart, standing up from the now clean floor, he slowly backed away from her. "I'm sorry…I can't help you."

Natalia felt her last chance departing with him, "Please! I can help you-"

The Spaniard's watery eyes flashed cold, his gaze took on a new, darker glare that she'd never seen there before.

"Help me?" He questioned angrily, "How could you help anybody stuck in that chair?"

Natalia took a moment to recover from the force of his words, feeling like she'd just been sucker punched. "If you help me…I'll help you."

The Spaniard's cold gaze melted and he stopped his movement towards the office door. The stench of the Muslim's body enwrapped him, making his eyes water again.

If I help her…I will be saved! Saved from this hell!

He froze in front of the office, cleaning equipment in hand. The weight of this burden felt ten times heavier on his shoulders, this cop's life was in his hands.

But if I save myself…I'll lose my Sara…

The Spaniard felt suddenly angry at the cop, she dared try making him betray his oath to his wife. He promised he'd protected her from anyone, including Aaron.

"You know…I liked you better when you couldn't talk."

Disappearing into the office and shutting the door, the Spaniard left her alone. His words echoed within her mind, attacking what little faith she had left and only fueling her feeling of hopelessness.

Help me? How could you help anybody stuck in that chair?

She couldn't help anyone, not even herself.

She was doomed.


Oh, poor Nat doesn't realize the Calvary is on the way!

But will they be too late?

Find out next time guys :)

-Mel out ;D