Author's Note: da-da-da! An entire new chapter. I am so pound of myself. You should be proud of me too – this thing went through three or four revisions, seriously. But now it is muy perfecto, if I do say so myself. (Which I do.)
After this, though, I think there's only about another chapter in the story. *covers ears from all the wails and protests* But please calm down! I have another story to tell with these two that will be coming out soon. Trust me, you'll love it. (At least I hope you will.)
Look for the next chapter in a week or so.
Author's thanks at end.
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Tessa collapsed, the lack of air and a wash of disbelief making her knees weak. She didn't understand what had just happened; she was sure that Sands had been on the brink of killing her, or . . . . Her mind shied away from the thought. For a moment she did nothing more than kneel at Sands' feet and catch her breath. He's letting me go?
He probably doesn't think you're worth doing anything with, even when everything is offered. Story of your life, isn't it? Just barely valuable enough to serve a purpose, but not worthless enough to be killed outright.
Thanks for the comfort. Tess kept a cautious eye on Sands as she re-oxygenated her body. He'd turned away from her and had lit a cigarette – he really was upset. This was the first time she'd seen him light up inside the house. The glow of the moon made the glow of his cigarette barely visible. But why is he lighting up instead of lighting into me?
". . . T? Where are you?" Tess wondered how long Jess had been calling for her.
"Better scamper away before they send in the hounds, conejo." Rabbit. Tess shivered as she noticed that Sands' voice was back to normal.
Just follow the man's advice and get out of here.
Tess slowly rose to her feet, making as little noise as possible, afraid that any sudden movement would cause Sands to react in kind . . . and now that she was getting used to the idea of living, she wasn't so eager to anger Sands. Self-preservation won out over madness after all.
For now.
Shut up.
Sands heard the door to his room creak open slowly. He was gratified to notice
that this time she had enough sense not to retrieve the gun or try to offer comfort. If she'd tried, he probably wouldn't have been able to keep from killing her – he'd killed men and women for less. It's not like he had anything other than a drug-induced conscience holding him back.
Damn. Damn her to hell. "You really didn't see it coming, did you?" Give the woman a prize, he was a fucking idiot. God. All the pieces had been there in front of his non-existent eyes, and he still hadn't managed to figure out that the most likely reason his voluntary doctor had been raised in the cartel was because her father was the fucking kingpin. He took an agitated drag from his cigarette. Why hadn't he killed her?
Abashed the Devil stood and/felt how awful goodness is,/and saw Virtue in her shape/how lovely; saw, and pined his loss.
Not you too.
You know why you haven't bothered to kill her? It's because you're drawn to her. She's different than all the rest – from anyone you've ever met. She helps because she can, not because she can get something out of it. She goes into things knowing she'll be taken advantage of – expecting to be taken advantage of – but she still does all she can. She's so pure, and that drives you nuts.
If it drives me nuts, why haven't I simply killed her? It'd be an easy way to solve the puzzle.
You don't want to solve the puzzle. You've never wanted to simply solve the puzzle. To win the game by the conventional rules is easy. It's rigging the game that's a challenge. You're a manipulator at heart, Sheldon. That's why you haven't killed her – you know there's got to be some way to get under all that purity, some way to knock her off her pedestal. To make her human. That's revenge worth having. To wrap her around your little finger, and then show her what you turned her into.
Sands gave the idea some consideration.
"T?" When Jessica saw Tessa's face, she felt a small surge of alarm. She was sure her friend was ready to pass out at any moment. "What happened?" Was something wrong with Sands? "Is it your patient? Is Sands alright?" Tess nodded her head, but her color didn't improve.
"I . . . I'm going to bed." Tess tried to move pass her friend, but Jessica stopped her.
"You know you can talk to me, any time during the day or night, right?"
Tess nodded and tried to smile – the best she managed was a brief thinning of her lips. She knew she should say something to make Jessica stop worrying, but couldn't imagine what those words should be. I just found out that something that had been a major source of shame and ridicule in my life was a malicious lie told to manipulate me? That finding out the truth has not set me free, but has instead increased my debt? That I offered my body to a man who is physically and emotionally damaged because of that renewed sense of responsibility, and he started to take me up on it, but rejected me at the last minute? That his rejection hurt? That even while I'm glad to be out here without having been shot, throttled, or beaten, part of me wishes that he had taken advantage of me so then I would have a reason to hate him as much as he undoubtedly hates me?
Are you sure that's the only reason, Teresa?
Tess covered her throat with her hand and silently went into the bedroom she was sharing with Jessica. All she wanted was for this day to be over, the next past, and every memory of Mexico, and cartels, and guilt forgotten. Including the memory of her patient.
The next morning was not a good one for Tess. She'd risen almost before the sun, unable to find any refuge in sleep. Sleep itself had been elusive – simply too much had happened in the past month for her to process. Too many emotions had been raised, too many questions asked, too many answers revealed. Especially after last night.
It was almost as if she were existing on a different plane than she normally did – her motions felt jerky, her thoughts mechanical. She knew that shock probably still had a good grip on her, yet she couldn't come to really care. As long as she pondered how her senses were moving like a silent film from the '20s, her voice was willing to stay quiet. I wonder if this is what it would be like to live inside a strobe light.
"Tía? I can't find my shoes."
"Your shoes are in the living room by the toy basket, Alma." The girl scampered off.
In her vision, everything was softened, all the sharp edges dulled. Sound moved sluggishly, requiring her to focus on what was being said to her. Her body seemed almost numb, and memories came dripping into her consciousness like semi-congealed wax. There was so much that had happened the night before that she didn't understand. Why had Sands searched for a reason not to kill her? That wasn't his personality. She knew men like him – they usually killed without asking for a good reason why they shouldn't. But he'd asked. He'd been on the brink of strangling her, and his hands had been punishing after she'd implied that she wouldn't fight him if he choose to bed her, but when his hands had explored her face they'd been gentle. His voice had been full of burning emotion when he'd asked what color her eyes were . . . and when he'd felt her tears, he'd let her go. But why? It doesn't make sense.
Would you have preferred to have him beat you or put a bullet in your brain?
I would have preferred that his actions have some sort of constancy. The part of her brain not involved in the internal debate mused that perhaps she was just surrounded by a wall of ice and not living in a strobe light. Whatever was going on, it slowed down her reactions and movements. Or at least it seemed that it did. Perhaps some part of her mind was moving so quickly that it made everything else seem slow by comparison.
"Hey there."
Tess turned around to find Jess standing behind her. "Hey." After this abbreviated greeting, Tess turned back to making lunches.
Jessica eyed her friend. She was well aware of how much sleep she'd gotten the night before and was concerned, and not just about the possibility of a mental breakdown. Tess was wearing a short-sleeved turtleneck shirt and her hair was down. Tess never wore her hair down. "T? Is something wrong? Did something happen last night between you and Sands?"
Tess paused as she was labeling lunch bags, but then resumed her work. "No." Not something. Tess wasn't sure what had happened, but it had been more than something.
The other woman didn't believe Tess for a moment. As Tess walked by, intent on finishing her packing, Jessica reached out and grabbed her arm. Tessa flinched as if she expected to be hit. As her head turned away, Jessica noticed that Tessa's hair swung across her face. She was hiding something. "Relax, T. I just want to survey the damage."
"It's nothing."
"That's why you're being so evasive." Jessica shook her head. "Tess, 'nothing' doesn't usually require a person to hide the truth." Tessa didn't do or say anything. "Tess, I'm your friend. Just show me."
Tess still hesitated. Jessica had a low tolerance for bullies or men who hit women. She wouldn't agree that Sands had been provoked past his capability to remain non-violent, and she wouldn't be able to understand unless Tess explained all the dynamics of the situation – which she wasn't willing to do.
Then, may I suggest you stop acting as if you have something to hide.
Jessica watched as Tess tucked her hair behind her ear. She stared at the side of Tessa's face for a moment, then reached over to turn on another light. She hadn't been mistaken – there was indeed a slight bruise covering Tessa's right temple. "He did this, didn't he?"
"No." He didn't mean . . . No, that was a lie. He had meant to hurt her. He'd meant to hurt her because her family had blinded him, taking away more than just his sight. They'd left him vulnerable . . . broken . . . totally and completely isolated in a sighted world. And he had every right to be angry, and while intellectually Tess knew he had no right to take that out on her, her feelings of guilt and responsibility still said that he had every right to do more than just hit her.
Jessica was highly skeptical. While Tess denied that Sands had anything to do with the bruise on her face, her denial had been quiet and not certain enough for Jessica to let things go quite yet. "Then what happened?"
"Logan gave me some news last night that I . . . I knew I shouldn't have looked at, but I did, and I found that I wasn't prepared to deal with all the, umm . . . all the ramifications." Tess was very happy that she'd taken the time to apply some makeup to the discoloration on her temple. "I was shocked – you saw that last night. And while I was cleaning, I umm, ran into a door jamb."
Jessica simply nodded. What else could she do? All she had was a feeling that Tess wasn't being completely truthful, but last night Logan had said that Tess had received some disturbing news . . . so she couldn't disprove Tessa's explanation. "Is there anything I can do to help?"
"Yeah. You can go . . ." Tess gestured vaguely with her hand, ". . . you can go make sure that Sands is ready to go. I've got to go drop the kids by their school, but then I'll be back to shuttle us all over to the hospital."
"Tía?"
Tess looked over at Marcos. He was hesitating in the hallway as Tess signed Lena into her daycare program. His face was serious. His face is too often serious. I need to make his life sure enough that he doesn't have to worry all the time.
Take that job Jessica told you about. The teaching position at that community college.
It's so far away though.
I thought you wanted to get as far from Mexico as you could. New York is pretty close to that.
Tess smiled at the daycare attendant as she finished signing her name, then turned to Marcos. "You, sir, are going to be late for your class if you don't hurry along."
"I don't want to go to class."
"You're worried about señor Sands?" He nodded. Ah. Tess supposed she should have known that the boy would be too distracted by what was happening that day to sit still and listen to a teacher all day long. "Ok, then here's what we're going to do. You, are going to go to your classroom and pay attention for as long as you can. I am going to go back to the house to get Sands and take him to the hospital. Once he's settled in there, I will come back here, pick you up, and we will discuss what our next move it going to be, alright?"
"Our next move?"
"Yes. I need to find a job, and there's one I can get with relative ease, but I want your opinion first. If you like the idea, then we will go find a real estate agent that can show us some houses in New York via the internet. How does that sound?" The boy smiled and nodded. Tess held out a hand. "Let's shake on it," they did. "Now, get to class before you're late." The boy ran off and disappeared through a door halfway down the hall.
As she left the building and walked back to her car, she asked, I need to move on for their sakes, don't I?
Yes.
And it would probably be a good idea not to let Sands know where I'm going, wouldn't it? She reached her car and opened the door, settling into the driver's seat.
It'd certainly make it harder for him to track you down and kill you.
I don't think he wants to kill me. He certainly had the opportunity last night, but he didn't take it. The car started smoothly, but Tess didn't try to back out of her parking space quite yet. He does hate me, though.
Well, it's your fault for talking about family business in front of strangers – especially ones that might hold a grudge.
And why didn't you advise me of that before I looked in the envelope?
That wouldn't have been any fun.
Fun. Right. Tess rolled her eyes.
You were also getting to close . . . too sympathetic. You need to get away from him.
That wouldn't be hard now. She'd heard the revulsion in Sands voice the night before when he'd told her to leave. She remembered all the times she'd said that she'd taken enough from him and staying through his recovery would be taking too much. That was still true. She had to leave before he had his sight back. She didn't want to see disgust in his eyes in the same way she'd heard it in his voice. So . . . New York?
Yes. Take the job.
Okay. Tess put the car into gear, pulled out of her parking spot, and into LA's constant traffic.
Once she was sure Tess had left, Jessica went to Sands' room, opening the door after a brief knock. She looked around the room and found Sands by an open window, cigarette in hand. "I'd ask you to rise and shine, but something tells me that the most I can expect from you is rise and scowl." Sands flipped the woman off. "Well that wasn't nice. What if one of the children had seen that?"
"The kids left with la niña."
Jessica was surprised he knew that. How had he known that Tess had taken the children to their school? That had been decided between Tess and Tina over a cell phone while Tess had been upstairs dressing Selena. There was no way he'd overheard that conversation. "Still, you can never be too sure."
Sands wondered if he'd been deaf as well when he could still see. So many people only paid attention to what was seen that they neglected their other senses altogether. "Was there a particular reason you came in to torture me? Or are you just taking advantage of the fact that Tessa isn't here?"
This was the opening she had wanted. "Funny you should mention T," Jessica leaned against the doorframe, her arms crossed over her chest. "What happened between you two last night?"
La niña kept quiet. If Sands looked closely enough at his thoughts, he found he wasn't too surprised by this news. Tess wasn't the type of person to complain, and she certainly wasn't loose lipped. And when it comes down to it, what happens between Tess and I is none of this woman's business. "Did something happen that I need to be aware of?"
The innocent tone in his voice was too practiced. She knew a line when she was being fed one. Jessica took a deep breath as her tempter slowly climbed. "Look, Sands –"
"I would, but unfortunately I can't at the moment."
"Then keep your mouth shut and listen." Sands felt pressure building up inside of him. He'd been so good about not shooting anyone and this woman was pressing her luck.
Jessica watched as tension overrode his body, and she softened her voice a bit. From all accounts, this man was unpredictable and dangerous despite his lack of sight – she didn't want to cause anything to happen that might be regretted later. "I saw Tessa's face this morning. The bruise was hard to miss, although she did do her best to conceal it. She didn't say that you had anything to do with it, but something tells me that you were the cause of it. I know that you've been behaving . . . erratically, due to the meds you're on, and I know that Tess would never complain, but I want you to know that she's put herself through hell for you. If you can't appreciate anything else about her, appreciate that, and the fact that she respects you enough not to ask someone else to look after you even though it was suggested. God knows I probably wouldn't have isolated myself with a man who was abusing me – knowingly or unknowingly."
Sands smiled. Respect. Right. He took one last drag on his cigarette and then flicked it out the open window. Slowly, he walked over to where the woman's voice was coming from. "What would you do if I had 'knowingly' hurt her?"
Jessica narrowed her eyes. "Death seems like an appropriate solution." She raised her face as Sands came even closer. "You can stop trying to intimidate me."
"That's funny . . . I don't seems to remember trying to intimidate anyone." Sands flashed a meaningless smile. "I can't even see where you are."
"Something tells me that's not –"
As soon as he had a reasonable idea of where the woman's head was, Sands lashed out with a fist. His hand slammed into the wall right next to the woman's head, cutting her off. He smirked then leaned in a bit – Tessa's friend was a few inches shorter than she was. "Perhaps you need to take your own advice and keep your mouth shut. It might also be a good idea to keep your nose out of the business of others."
The front door opened and shut. "Jess? We need to get moving." Sands moved away from the woman he had trapped, walking into the living room. He heard Tess freeze when he came into view.
"Sands." Tess felt unease at the self-satisfied grin on the man's face. He'd been up to something or he was up to something, and the thought was not a comfortable one.
"Chiquita."
"Umm . . . are you ready to go? Or have you changed your mind? It would be understandable if you had decided not to go through with this, especially if something had happened that would might make you feel as if you might not be able to trust . . . my judgment. And being the first person to undergo a experimental procedure should be enough to make anyone second guess what they're doing, particularly –"
"You're rambling uncontrollably, sweetie." Well. She was either terrified of him, extremely nervous that he might kill her at the drop of a hat, or she'd drunk way too much caffeine that morning. "I think we should be on our way before you collapse into a pile of raw nerves."
Tess exhaled and gave Sands a nervous smile. "Would you stay, knowing that life would be a bit worse? Or would you cut and run?"
"I don't see why you're nervous – you're not the one about to become Frankenstein's monster."
Tess was confused. Sands was acting as if nothing had happened last night. Was it possible that he didn't remember? That was almost too good to be true. But still, she couldn't help but hope that it was. That she was jumping the gun by deciding that she had to leave him without any notice at all.
There is a certain bleakness in finding hope where one expected certainty.
At the moment I'd be more worried about finding he knows the truth when you should be hoping that he's forgotten it. Don't let yourself be drawn in again, Teresa. You're leaving before the choice is taken from you.
"Were you planning on making me stand here all day, or were we actually going to go to the hospital at some point?" Sands wondered what was going through her head. Was she relieved to be so close to getting rid of him? Did she wonder if he'd forgotten their . . . conversation . . . the night before? Did she think that perhaps everything would return to normal? If she did, it'd be so much easier to manipulate her.
"Sorry, yes. The hospital." Tess opened the door and waited for Sands to come to her side before going out. She looked over his shoulder just before leaving the house. "Jess? Are you coming?"
"Yeah. I'll be right out." The door shut and Jessica took a moment to look around Sands' room. She hadn't moved from the doorway since Tess had come into the house. There was something going on that she didn't like. I think I'll do my best to stick with Tess for most of the day. Or at least until Sands goes under the knife. I'm not sure he should be trusted.
Once they had reached the hospital, things moved along relatively quickly. Tess, as Sands' listed physician, signed him in and got all his paperwork in order. At his request they were still using 'Giovanni' as his first name. Tess wondered what was so bad about his real name that he would so adamantly refuse to use it . . . or who he thought might be on their tail. That was the only reason she could see for not wanting to leave a paper trail.
After he was checked in, they went upstairs to meet with Logan for a last minute debrief. Sands was still set on doing this, so Logan took him into another room to change into a hospital gown, leaving Tess alone with Jessica.
For several minutes they sat in silence, but finally Jessica had to ask, "T . . . why are you doing this? Why have you put yourself through all this? I know that Logan has offered to send over nurses to care for Sands so that you wouldn't have to deal with it. Why didn't you take him up on his offer?"
Oh good, a question I can answer. "It's my job, to be cleaning up this mess, and that's the enough reason to go for me. It's my job, to be worried half to death, and that's the thing people respect in me. It's my job, to better than the rest, and that's a rough break for me."
Jessica shook her head. "I'm not sure that Jimmy Buffett is still the answer for everything, T."
"Blaspheme."
"Tessa . . . ."
"I took him in, Jess. I kept him from dying, I held his hand when the pain or the nightmares got too bad, I told him that . . . that I would see him this far. And I have."
"That's no reason not to accept help when you so obviously need it."
"You're right."
"Can you give me a reason?"
"Give me one reason why I shouldn't kill you."
"It's my fault."
"Tess, none of this is your fault. Your voice is trying to pull a fast one over on you if that's what it's saying. Did you hurt that man? Did you drill his eyes out? Did you leave him to die?"
"No," Tess whispered, "but my family did."
Now Jessica understood. The great mystery had been solved. Years ago, when the four friends had been preparing to leave school and start new lives, Jessica had pressed Tessa for an answer as to why she was going back to Mexico to work in a family practice when she could have any number of jobs in the US. It'd been clear that Tessa hadn't been happy about returning to her family, and after an hour of arguing with her friend, Tess had given in. "Did you have any part in it?"
"No, but if I'd been there, maybe I could have done something more."
"Could you have convinced your father to spare that man?"
"No –"
"Then how is it your fault?"
"I'm the last one. The rest are dead."
"So you decided to take the punishment for what they did?" Tess shrugged, staring at the floor. "That's the schizophrenia talking, T. You don't have to punish yourself for what others do. No one in their right mind would hold you accountable for any of this. No one is going to hunt you down and make you pay."
Sands isn't in his right mind. Or if he is, he's one of a small population of people who would. "You're probably right . . . but I know men like Sands. By taking him in, I made a deal. I would care for him and never let anyone know what he went through, and he would let me live. And as time went by, I just felt that . . ." How could she explain? "He's a very private man, a man used to hiding thoughts, emotions, and pain alike. But I . . . I put myself into a situation where he couldn't help but let all those things show. It was my decision to take him, even knowing what kind of man he is, and I saw him at his most pitiful and his most vulnerable, and I chose to keep those confidences. I managed to get him to trust me in some small manner – enough that he was willing to let me treat him – and I couldn't betray that trust by leaving him to strangers."
You're going to leave him to strangers. He doesn't know Logan. Not like he knows you.
Would you stop changing your position on everything? First you want me to leave, and then you don't. You want me to get away from him, you want me to stick close. Make up your mind so I can make up mine.
Do I make you nervous? Don't you like having the truth of your actions pointed out to you? Tess didn't reply and the voice sighed. It doesn't really matter what he feels, because in a few weeks, you're never going to see him again.
"T? Can you come in here?" Both women looked up as Logan called to them from the door of the prep room. "Your patient is being difficult and is refusing to allow the nurse to do his job. He's still sticking to his story that you need the practice."
"Why is he only my patient when he's being difficult?"
"Because you're the only one willing or able to deal with him. Get your butt moving."
"And he complains of me being a bossy crank," Jessica whispered to Tess.
Tess merely shook her head and stood up, crossing the hall into the prep room. She nodded to the nurse – an older man with salt and pepper hair and a thick goatee – then took Sands' hand in hers. She felt a shiver of fear as he gripped it tightly, but realized he was simply nervous. That was understandable. "I hear you're being 'difficult.'"
"If you'd been in here a few minutes earlier, you could have heard Dr. Frankenstein calling me a 'pain in the ass.'"
Tess looked over at Logan and the man shrugged. "Nonetheless, you're going to have to let this man do his job if we're to continue." Sands growled and Tess almost laughed despite the knot of tension in her stomach. "You know I'm right."
"I know you're annoying."
"That was weak." He flipped her off. "And that was a last resort. Are you going to let," she looked at the man's nametag, "Steve do his job, or are you really going to make me take over?"
"God, you're such a nag." Sands didn't know what he was doing. He was letting the woman off the hook when last night he'd been prepared to kill her.
Later . . . .
"Fine." Tess nodded at the nurse and the man came forward, IV prepared. Tess didn't let go as the man slipped the IV into one of the big veins on the back of Sands' hand. She didn't let go because he gave no sign of wanting her to, and she cursed them both for it. She could almost like him right now. When he acted like this, she had a hard time decided which part of his dual personality was the act. Which front was the pretence? Which was the real man? Was it the one who talked to Marcos, and who urged her to sleep, and who came running with guns out when she had a nightmare – or was it the one who would insist that all that was done out of self-interest and personal gain? Was the real man the one who wanted to kill her, or the one who let her go because she was crying? Was it the man who annoyed the hell out of her, or the one who . . . held her hand? The one who let no one in, or the one who trusted her not to take advantage of his weakness?
Steve came back. "Dr. Pierce is ready to move the patient to pre-op."
"Yeah, well, maybe 'the patient' isn't ready to go."
"Sands . . ."
"Why are you whining?" Tess stuck her tongue out at the man; Steve laughed. Under his breath, Sands murmured uncomplimentary things in Spanish, but finally relented. "Fine, let's go."
Sands didn't let go of Tessa's hand as he was wheeled out of the prep room. He despised himself for the weakness, but still didn't release her. The muscle relaxant he'd been given was doing a number on his head. He could barely move and that brought back too many memories of the Day of the Dead. The buzz of anxiety in the back of his head was trying to balloon into full-fledge panic . . . and whether he wanted to admit it or not, Tess was his link to reality.
He swallowed and tried to keep his face clear of emotion as they entered an elevator. Elevators were too closed in, too small and they moved. Sands usually tried to avoid them at all costs – as he did with escalators – mainly because he didn't like the feeling of motion sickness that they gave him, but also because one of his private fears was being trapped in one. There was no room to fight in an elevator.
Tess hadn't said anything when Sands had refused to let her go, just as she didn't say anything as his grip tightened on her hand. She did look down, though. He's still wearing his glasses. He really must have put the fear of god in those nurses. When she saw the mask his face had become, she let her other thoughts go as her confusion deepened even further. She wanted him to hate her so she'd feel better about leaving. She wanted him to trust her even less than he could picture her face in his mind's eye. She didn't want him to be able to hold her hand and find comfort in it . . . because she found no comfort in holding his. All she found was guilt, responsibility, and an overwhelming sense of duty. "Almost there." His hand squeezed hers painfully – a warning to keep quiet. Perhaps he only wants reassurance as long as he can pretend that I'm not the one giving it. The doors to the elevator opened, they stepped out, and Tess was relieved and regretful as the hand clutching hers relented a bit. She cursed as his dual nature coaxed dual reactions out of her.
He's dangerous. He's influencing you. If you're not careful, you're going to have another voice to talk to. Tess shook her head, neither denying nor accepting the statement.
They entered pre-op, and Tess leaned down to say to Sands, "This is the end of the road, señor."
"You're leaving?" His hand tightened on hers again, preventing her from pulling free. She noticed, and placed her other hand over their joined ones.
"I can't exactly go into the O.R. with you, and I have other charges to look after. Besides, do you want me waiting around like an anxious wife for the next eight hours?"
No. He didn't want that . . . but he didn't want to be left alone either. "I don't know – it'd be nice to have someone waiting to attend my every beck and call."
He would say that. "You're going to be unconscious, señor."
Logan came up to the window that separated the operating room from the room they were in. He tapped on the glass, signaling that they were ready for Sands to be brought in. She shook her head and nodded at Sands – she wasn't going to leave him if he still had doubts or memories that were haunting him. Logan looked at her, hung his head in mock exasperation, then pointed to her right. She looked and found a surgical smock hanging above a bench where paper booties, mask, and a surgical cap waited. She smiled, then said to Sands, "Give me a moment to suit up." She turned too quickly to see the triumphant look on Sands face.
Tess slipped the smock over her clothes, the cap over her hair after making sure it was all tucked in, the booties over her sneakers, and the mask over her face. She looked around and found a box of gloves. She took a pair and slipped them on, then returned to her patient, taking his hand. For a moment he recoiled, not expecting to feel latex. "Don't freak out on me, Sands." She reached for his hand again, and this time he let her take it, although she saw the cords of his neck tense. He didn't like the fact that he wanted to have some company as he went into the O.R. Over her mask she looked at Steve, who was still with them. "Let's go."
Logan came over as they entered the room. "I was beginning to think that Sands had killed you or something." The joke fell flat; Tess squeezed Sands hand, warning him not to say anything. "Well, let's get you into position, and then we can get the anesthesia started."
Tess stayed by Sands' side as he was wheeled into position. She talked to him as the anesthesiologist looked over Sands' chart. Sands himself was slowly giving in to the muscle relaxant that he'd been given earlier. She could see that he was physically less tense, though his grip on her hand was still firm enough to make her think that his mind was still anxious. Why can't you be like other men? Why do you have to be so confusing?
Sands interrupted her thoughts. "Any words of wisdom, niña?"
Why did he have to be so civil? The night before he'd had a gun at her head and a hand cutting the air off from her lungs. And now he was almost vulnerable enough for her to apologize for everything. She looked around and realized that everyone had stepped back to give them a bit of privacy. She didn't want to need to have any privacy when she was around him.
"Custida?" Sands tightened his hand around the one he was holding instinctively.
Tess cursed as she felt a single tear work its way free of her control; there was that hint of a lost boy in his voice again. She couldn't leave him while he was unsure. Crouching down, she whispered, "That is not dead which can eternal lie, and with strange eons even death may die." She smiled sadly under her mask. "Did that help?"
"No." He couldn't admit that the fact that she was still quoting things reassured him. Not without his mind telling him that was unacceptable. He still needed her to be a puppet – he couldn't start to see her as a person. Not after what he'd learned.
Tess watched as the anesthesiologist finished prepping the injection that would go into Sands' IV. Quietly she started talking so Sands would know what to expect. "The nice man is coming with some drugs that are going to put you under very quickly. Is there anything I can do for you before you take a very long nap?"
"Yeah, pick me up another carton of cigarettes." He paused before letting his mind do what it wanted. ". . .May I have a kiss before you go?"
If I'd known muscle relaxants would improve his temperament this much . . . She didn't know why the relaxants were making Sands' tongue so loose, but she'd take it while she could. Sooner or later all the drugs were going to be out of his system, he was going to hate her again, and she was planning on being far away by the time that happened. She didn't know how much of the previous night that he remembered, but at this point any was probably too much.
Carefully, she placed a kiss on Sands' forehead – the kiss of a sister or mother, diluted because of the surgical mask she was wearing. It probably wasn't as close as he wanted, but it was much more intimate than she wanted. She'd never planned on coming to care. "Care-charming Sleep, thou easer of all woes,/Brother to Death, sweetly thyself dispose/On this afflicted prince; fall like a cloud," she removed his sunglasses, "In gentle showers; give nothing that is loud/Or painful to his slumbers; easy, sweet,/And as a purling stream, thou son of Night,/Pass by his troubled senses; sing his pain."
The anesthesiologist injected the drugs as Logan came over. He looked at her, winked, then asked Sands, "Can you start counting backwards from one hundred for me?"
Sands head rolled on the headrest, conveying impatience and distain. He wasn't a child. "100 . . . 99 . . . 98 . . . 97 . . ." He'd his voice slowly trailed off.
Tess knew that this was the sign that he was out. She gently pulled her hand free of his, and removed his sunglasses. For a moment she simply looked down into Sands' face as it was lit by the harsh lights of the surgical bay. Like hollow murmuring wind or silver rain;/Into this prince gently, oh gently slide,/And kiss him into slumbers like a bride.
"T? We need to get started."
She nodded and left the room. Reaching the pre-op room, she stripped off her surgical gear, then took a moment to look in through the window. Sands was barely visible as he was intubated and nurses crowded around his body. Va a con dios . . . go with God.
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Quotes: OUaTiM; John Milton from Paradise Lost; Love Actually; Ursula Le Guin; Jimmy Buffett; H.P. Lovecraft; Fear and Loathing in Los Vegas; John Fletcher.
Author's Thanks: first and foremost, to my dedicated beta, Ashley, who still gets chapters to me even when the power has been out because of ice storms and her computer is laid up with major virus overloads. That, my friends, is interagency cooperation. ^_^
Nextly, thanks to Merrie (gotta love characters that won't let SJ bully them. ^_^); TaraRose (I got this out several days sooner than I thought I would.); gee (thanks for the encouragement); The Flaming Chia Pet (I'm now scared that you'd have an apoplexy if I ever let more than a week pass without an update. ^_^ And wasn't the ending of the last chapter great? I know I loved it. Gave myself shivers, I did.); Isola (I hope I haven't disappointed you, and I really hope the next story lives up to this one.); Adrejon (ooh . . . another addict. I'm not sure how many that makes now. I'm almost ashamed of myself. As for where I'm leading those two? Well . . . through a bunch of rough times as far as I can tell. But you gotta admit that it's fun to read about. And I'm afraid that I really do enjoy my cliffhangers. Resolution is for the end of a story.); CaptainJackSparrowsGirl (mmm . . . heartbreaking. Seems like I've exceeded my expectations. ^_^); Kim (I'm glad you're back, and thank you so much for the really long quote. I think that I can fit bits and pieces in here and there. ^_^); Blank (ooh! No fair! I hope Friday hurries up and gets here for your sake. You're not the only one that likes Jess – personally, I had some fun with her this chapter. And the way Sands reacted? *swoons* I wrote that bit something like over a month ago and I've been dying to get to it. I absolutely love it. Glad you liked it too.); and Satisdee (why did he get that upset? Mainly because I wanted him to, but we can blame it on the drugs. ^_^ Another reason is that in a lot of the Sands/OC stories I've read, the fact that they are in some way connected to the cartel never bothered him, and I wanted something different. Someone used by the cartel would be one thing, the daughter of the man who scrambled his eyes is another. 5 or 6 page chapters? I did that once? That seems like forever ago. Don't think they'd be returning too soon. I agree that the ending you suggested would be very romantic, but I'm not ready to stray into that territory yet. I'm not at all sure I could write it convincingly.)
And lastly, thanks to my new reviewers. C.J. Davis (thank you so much for the compliments. If I'm getting Sands and Tess to annoy the heck out of people occasionally, then I know I've got the dynamics right. The moment people say 'oh, what a sweet couple' is the moment I stop writing. ^_^) and Digital Diamond (I know I said something like this at one point in time, but you're my hero. Really. ^_^ Hope you read this when you get to this chapter.)
