Chapter Eight: New Guests arrive
A/N: Sorry for not updating yesterday! Wild day, to say the least. I was going here there and everywhere. But it was fun! :)
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The morning light through the window woke Jorge Ramirez the next morning. He stirred from his place in a chair he'd sunken into the night before and glanced over at the former CIA agent that occupied his one guest bed. Sands was pale, but at least he'd stopped shivering. That was a good thing, right?
Ramirez stood and approached the slightly younger man, feeling his forehead for a fever. It was still there, burning him alive. He sighed as he moved away from the ill man, careful not to wake him.
"The doctor's at the door," El's hushed whisper reached his ears.
Ramirez briefly wondered when the mariachi had entered the room. "Well get him in here. I'm not paying for the idiot's funeral," he grumbled.
This brought a small smirk from El. "Somehow," he said quietly as he moved back towards the door, "I think none of us mean the things we say when we speak that way."
"Somehow you're probably right."
El nodded and disappeared to fetch the doctor.
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It was three days of torture after that for the people under Jorge Ramirez's roof, and for Sands most of all. Nightmares plagued the former CIA agent as he tossed and turned in the bed, the medicine the doctor had given him attempting to work. His screams echoed through the small house, no longer bringing the two other men running to the room. It was simply part of the day now. An irritation at worst.
El closed his guitar case with a resounding thump as he stood. "How long until the medicine works?"
Ramirez shrugged. "Sometime soon, hopefully. This is the fourth day?"
"Sì."
"Well then it should work soon."
"How do you figure that?"
"Wishful thinking."
The screams stopped suddenly and the two men looked at each other before standing and walking into the small back bedroom. Sands lay there, still breathing, but very still. He let out a low groan and brought his hand to his head. "Where the hell are my sunglasses?" he grumbled.
Ramirez allowed a small grin to spread across his face. "Looks like today is the day it works," he mumbled to the mariachi as he stepped closer to former CIA agent and handed him the sunglasses. "You, my friend, are one very lucky bastard, you know that?"
"So I've been told many a time before. How long have I been out?"
"Several days. The doctor left an hour or so ago."
"No sign of any unwanted guests, huh?"
Ramirez shook his head, but then mumbled a "no".
"Give it time," Sands answered. "Even if he didn't call them, they'll know."
"You're so sure?" El asked from the doorway. "Perhaps they don't want to find you."
"One could only hope." Sands sat up slowly, popping his neck as he did. He stopped just as he threw his legs over the side of the bed. "That was a car door."
"Probably next door," Ramirez said, but started to the window nevertheless.
"No, it was in front of your house."
Ramirez sighed as he looked out the window to see a red sports car with a young man and woman coming from it towards the door. He mumbled a curse and then turned towards Sands. "Stay here or I'll take no responsibility for you, you hear me?"
"Who is it?"
"Could be nothing. Could be something. Just stay put. El, stay with him."
Sands listened as Ramirez left the room and he strained his hears. The knocks on the door counted to three and Ramirez's steps were slow, as not to show any type of anxiousness. The door opened and he heard talking. "Who is it?" he hissed quietly.
"I don't know," El answered.
Sands stood and leaned against the wall. The walls were thin and he'd never thought he'd be glad for that.
A woman's voice was the first he heard. "Señor Ramirez, we have no desire to harm Agent Sands. We're old friends of his, please. We know you were brought in to help a year ago, our intelligence has lead us that far..."
"Then you're a bit behind, aren't you?" Ramirez said simply. "I'm quite busy, Ms..."
"Agent Bethany Cromwell. Please, Señor Ramirez. We just want to find Sheldon."
Sands froze when he heard the name. He knew he'd heard the voice many a time before, but he couldn't put the face with the voice. He'd never made much of an effort to memorizing people's voices before he lost his site. Now he wished he had. "Who are you with, Beth," he mumbled.
"We wanted to this the easiest way we could," a second voice said, male this time. "We'll give you one more chance, Mr. Ramirez."
"I told you I don't know where he is!"
Sands heard the sound of a gun cocking. Now, he'd never been one for self-sacrifice. He briefly wondered what was the matter with him when he thought about stepping out to Jorge Ramirez's rescue. True, the other man was risking his life for the former CIA agent, but he had no idea why.
He sighed when the name finally clicked in his mind that fit the voice that had threatened the former FBI agent. Time to step out. He heard El's startled sound from behind him, the mariachi never expecting him to make his next move. Well, he was unpredictable, that was still in his favor.
"C'mon, Bryan, leave the poor guy alone," he said as he stepped out from behind the door, still leaning heavily on the wall. His knees were threatening to collapse beneath him. Just a little longer. He'd probably be shot on the spot anyway, friends or not. Bryan Russell had always been strait laced.
"Sheldon!" Bethany's voice reached his ears as he heard her footsteps nearing him and her arms go around his neck. "I knew you weren't dead, stubborn idiot."
"Since when have we been so close?"
She pulled back and slapped him. "You ass hole! Never do that again!" she yelled.
This made Sands chuckle. "There's the Bethany Cromwell we all know and hate."
Bryan Russell chuckled as he put the safety back on his gun. "Is this where you've been hiding out, Sands? Didn't feel like coming back to the States?"
"Didn't think I was wanted after botching it."
"Botching it?" Bryan echoed. "Hell no. You did what you were sent here to do. We were looking for you. Richardson was asked to step down, though. I think it had something to do with your disappearance and the record of you asking for reinforcements."
"They fired him over that? I knew I was worth something. No one ever listened."
"So I take it these are friends from the CIA, hmm?" Ramirez asked, his voice agitated.
"Yeah."
Bethany laughed at this. "The closest thing Sands has ever had to friends. We all graduated in the same class. What the hell are these, Sands? Wearing glasses indoors now? You were always strange."
Sands grabbed her wrist as she reached up to his glasses. "Don't."
"What? Go blind while you were gone, Sheldon?" she asked lightly, plucking the glasses off with her other hand. Her breath stopped in her throat as he turned away.
"My word, Sands, what happened to you?" Bryan managed.
"This," Sands growled as he snatched his glasses back, "is what happens when your superior officer doesn't send in backup." That said he turned back to the room he was staying in and slammed the door, ignoring the fact that he nearly slammed it on El.
"How did you find him?" the mariachi asked.
"We've been trying to find him since the day he disappeared. I've been down here this past year, and Bryan joined me a week ago. We came up on this lead." She stopped, looking towards the door. "What happened to him?"
"It's a bit of a long story," El said as he sat down. The two agents joined him, ready and more than willing to hear it out.
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Raphe1: Haha! Glad you're glad. Good ol' Sands. He's so good for hurting. I was trying to explain to my boyfriend yesterday how I tend to like the movies/animes/mangas that have characters whose pasts are possibly angsty or their personality can be used for such and all that lovely stuff and he just stared at me. He thinks I'm nuts and I haven't really given him much of a reason to believe otherwise... Ah well...
ES Young: Well, in the spy museum you can buy tickets ahead of time. So next time just go and get tickets for later in the afternoon or something. That's what my folks and I did. Worked out nicely. Ah... The art museum was great! I was told by an artist friend of mine to go check out "The girl in the red hat" and I FINALLY found it. Took forever, but I found it. Really nice piece. Anyway, back to discussions of the lovely and hissy Sheldon Sands! Hehe... Yes! He is stubborn! But that makes him a great character to write on! I fell sort of bad for him, but not TOO bad, or else I wouldn't write it :)
Naomi: I rarely kill the main characters, if that's any comfort to you. (well, excluding villains, but hey...) I'm glad you got to read the last chapter before you left! Hope you remember to come back and read the rest :)
Lunascorpio: That's how I did it. I watched the movie and immediately when searching for fanfiction. It's the best way :) Glad you like the story!
Empath89: Everyone wants to hug Sands! Yay! Much Sands hugging! ::dodges bullets that come her way:: Ehh... Maybe not...
VanilliaFluffy: I know, not a word Sands uses much. But keep in mind he was very very ill when he said it. Lol. The fever talking, but I think he meant it... We'll see...
Sly-chan: Ah! Thanks for the suggestion. That's a good idea. Ah yes... My cliffhangers. I tend to try to leave every chapter with a cliffhanger. ::evil grin:: So expect many more!
Charm65: I try (key word TRY) to update daily, and I figured I had to make up for five or six days lost so I updated as soon as I came home :) Then promptly didn't update yesterday. Figures... Oh well, here it is today! Hope you liked it!
A/N: Sorry for not updating yesterday! Wild day, to say the least. I was going here there and everywhere. But it was fun! :)
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The morning light through the window woke Jorge Ramirez the next morning. He stirred from his place in a chair he'd sunken into the night before and glanced over at the former CIA agent that occupied his one guest bed. Sands was pale, but at least he'd stopped shivering. That was a good thing, right?
Ramirez stood and approached the slightly younger man, feeling his forehead for a fever. It was still there, burning him alive. He sighed as he moved away from the ill man, careful not to wake him.
"The doctor's at the door," El's hushed whisper reached his ears.
Ramirez briefly wondered when the mariachi had entered the room. "Well get him in here. I'm not paying for the idiot's funeral," he grumbled.
This brought a small smirk from El. "Somehow," he said quietly as he moved back towards the door, "I think none of us mean the things we say when we speak that way."
"Somehow you're probably right."
El nodded and disappeared to fetch the doctor.
----------------------
It was three days of torture after that for the people under Jorge Ramirez's roof, and for Sands most of all. Nightmares plagued the former CIA agent as he tossed and turned in the bed, the medicine the doctor had given him attempting to work. His screams echoed through the small house, no longer bringing the two other men running to the room. It was simply part of the day now. An irritation at worst.
El closed his guitar case with a resounding thump as he stood. "How long until the medicine works?"
Ramirez shrugged. "Sometime soon, hopefully. This is the fourth day?"
"Sì."
"Well then it should work soon."
"How do you figure that?"
"Wishful thinking."
The screams stopped suddenly and the two men looked at each other before standing and walking into the small back bedroom. Sands lay there, still breathing, but very still. He let out a low groan and brought his hand to his head. "Where the hell are my sunglasses?" he grumbled.
Ramirez allowed a small grin to spread across his face. "Looks like today is the day it works," he mumbled to the mariachi as he stepped closer to former CIA agent and handed him the sunglasses. "You, my friend, are one very lucky bastard, you know that?"
"So I've been told many a time before. How long have I been out?"
"Several days. The doctor left an hour or so ago."
"No sign of any unwanted guests, huh?"
Ramirez shook his head, but then mumbled a "no".
"Give it time," Sands answered. "Even if he didn't call them, they'll know."
"You're so sure?" El asked from the doorway. "Perhaps they don't want to find you."
"One could only hope." Sands sat up slowly, popping his neck as he did. He stopped just as he threw his legs over the side of the bed. "That was a car door."
"Probably next door," Ramirez said, but started to the window nevertheless.
"No, it was in front of your house."
Ramirez sighed as he looked out the window to see a red sports car with a young man and woman coming from it towards the door. He mumbled a curse and then turned towards Sands. "Stay here or I'll take no responsibility for you, you hear me?"
"Who is it?"
"Could be nothing. Could be something. Just stay put. El, stay with him."
Sands listened as Ramirez left the room and he strained his hears. The knocks on the door counted to three and Ramirez's steps were slow, as not to show any type of anxiousness. The door opened and he heard talking. "Who is it?" he hissed quietly.
"I don't know," El answered.
Sands stood and leaned against the wall. The walls were thin and he'd never thought he'd be glad for that.
A woman's voice was the first he heard. "Señor Ramirez, we have no desire to harm Agent Sands. We're old friends of his, please. We know you were brought in to help a year ago, our intelligence has lead us that far..."
"Then you're a bit behind, aren't you?" Ramirez said simply. "I'm quite busy, Ms..."
"Agent Bethany Cromwell. Please, Señor Ramirez. We just want to find Sheldon."
Sands froze when he heard the name. He knew he'd heard the voice many a time before, but he couldn't put the face with the voice. He'd never made much of an effort to memorizing people's voices before he lost his site. Now he wished he had. "Who are you with, Beth," he mumbled.
"We wanted to this the easiest way we could," a second voice said, male this time. "We'll give you one more chance, Mr. Ramirez."
"I told you I don't know where he is!"
Sands heard the sound of a gun cocking. Now, he'd never been one for self-sacrifice. He briefly wondered what was the matter with him when he thought about stepping out to Jorge Ramirez's rescue. True, the other man was risking his life for the former CIA agent, but he had no idea why.
He sighed when the name finally clicked in his mind that fit the voice that had threatened the former FBI agent. Time to step out. He heard El's startled sound from behind him, the mariachi never expecting him to make his next move. Well, he was unpredictable, that was still in his favor.
"C'mon, Bryan, leave the poor guy alone," he said as he stepped out from behind the door, still leaning heavily on the wall. His knees were threatening to collapse beneath him. Just a little longer. He'd probably be shot on the spot anyway, friends or not. Bryan Russell had always been strait laced.
"Sheldon!" Bethany's voice reached his ears as he heard her footsteps nearing him and her arms go around his neck. "I knew you weren't dead, stubborn idiot."
"Since when have we been so close?"
She pulled back and slapped him. "You ass hole! Never do that again!" she yelled.
This made Sands chuckle. "There's the Bethany Cromwell we all know and hate."
Bryan Russell chuckled as he put the safety back on his gun. "Is this where you've been hiding out, Sands? Didn't feel like coming back to the States?"
"Didn't think I was wanted after botching it."
"Botching it?" Bryan echoed. "Hell no. You did what you were sent here to do. We were looking for you. Richardson was asked to step down, though. I think it had something to do with your disappearance and the record of you asking for reinforcements."
"They fired him over that? I knew I was worth something. No one ever listened."
"So I take it these are friends from the CIA, hmm?" Ramirez asked, his voice agitated.
"Yeah."
Bethany laughed at this. "The closest thing Sands has ever had to friends. We all graduated in the same class. What the hell are these, Sands? Wearing glasses indoors now? You were always strange."
Sands grabbed her wrist as she reached up to his glasses. "Don't."
"What? Go blind while you were gone, Sheldon?" she asked lightly, plucking the glasses off with her other hand. Her breath stopped in her throat as he turned away.
"My word, Sands, what happened to you?" Bryan managed.
"This," Sands growled as he snatched his glasses back, "is what happens when your superior officer doesn't send in backup." That said he turned back to the room he was staying in and slammed the door, ignoring the fact that he nearly slammed it on El.
"How did you find him?" the mariachi asked.
"We've been trying to find him since the day he disappeared. I've been down here this past year, and Bryan joined me a week ago. We came up on this lead." She stopped, looking towards the door. "What happened to him?"
"It's a bit of a long story," El said as he sat down. The two agents joined him, ready and more than willing to hear it out.
------------------------
Raphe1: Haha! Glad you're glad. Good ol' Sands. He's so good for hurting. I was trying to explain to my boyfriend yesterday how I tend to like the movies/animes/mangas that have characters whose pasts are possibly angsty or their personality can be used for such and all that lovely stuff and he just stared at me. He thinks I'm nuts and I haven't really given him much of a reason to believe otherwise... Ah well...
ES Young: Well, in the spy museum you can buy tickets ahead of time. So next time just go and get tickets for later in the afternoon or something. That's what my folks and I did. Worked out nicely. Ah... The art museum was great! I was told by an artist friend of mine to go check out "The girl in the red hat" and I FINALLY found it. Took forever, but I found it. Really nice piece. Anyway, back to discussions of the lovely and hissy Sheldon Sands! Hehe... Yes! He is stubborn! But that makes him a great character to write on! I fell sort of bad for him, but not TOO bad, or else I wouldn't write it :)
Naomi: I rarely kill the main characters, if that's any comfort to you. (well, excluding villains, but hey...) I'm glad you got to read the last chapter before you left! Hope you remember to come back and read the rest :)
Lunascorpio: That's how I did it. I watched the movie and immediately when searching for fanfiction. It's the best way :) Glad you like the story!
Empath89: Everyone wants to hug Sands! Yay! Much Sands hugging! ::dodges bullets that come her way:: Ehh... Maybe not...
VanilliaFluffy: I know, not a word Sands uses much. But keep in mind he was very very ill when he said it. Lol. The fever talking, but I think he meant it... We'll see...
Sly-chan: Ah! Thanks for the suggestion. That's a good idea. Ah yes... My cliffhangers. I tend to try to leave every chapter with a cliffhanger. ::evil grin:: So expect many more!
Charm65: I try (key word TRY) to update daily, and I figured I had to make up for five or six days lost so I updated as soon as I came home :) Then promptly didn't update yesterday. Figures... Oh well, here it is today! Hope you liked it!