Author's Note: I'm glad to see that you're all liking this so far. This was a fun chapter to write, so I hope you'll all enjoy it.
Author's Thanks at end.
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Sands woke the next morning as the sun rose. Ever since he'd regained his sight, he'd been unable to sleep much past sunrise. It seemed wrong to waste daylight somehow. So as the clock clicked to seven, Sands opened his eyes and looked at the woman he'd spent the last evening with.
To his great surprise, she was still asleep. He couldn't remember her sleeping this long or this peacefully in his presence before. Guess we found the cure for her nightmares, he smirked. Sands carefully examined the picture she made in her sleep, gathering what information from her position that he could. Her back was to him, and she had scooted as close to the edge of the bed as she could without falling off. She was careful to guard herself from him even in her sleep, but the fact that she was still there said a lot in itself. She disliked him, and very likely didn't trust him, but she didn't dislike him enough to leave the room and she didn't distrust him enough to stay awake. Perhaps things would be easier than he'd expected.
Stretching, lazily considering taking up the attack immediately, Sands froze as he heard footsteps outside the door. All thoughts of a bit of indulgent fun slipped from his head. Silently, he reached over and freed his gun from its holster, cocking it and aiming at the door. Whoever was out there would be dead before they had the chance to cause any mischief. But he had the feeling that he knew who it was . . . or at least what agency they were from.
His suspicions were proved right when the door inched open to reveal a blond in a nice suit. Sands gave Inge an insolent grin as he set his gun aside. He lazily scratched his chest as he watched her face slowly turn red. Not only did I get laid by 'la niña,' but I get to tick Rochester off as well. To birds for the price of one.
The blond doctor felt humiliation swamping her. For the past seven months or so, she'd been trying to get Sands back into her bed just so she could kick him out, and now she found him wearing nothing but a smile and a sheet in a bed where Tess – her rival – seemed be equally unclothed. It didn't take a doctorate to surmise what had happened the night before. First Logan, now Sheldon. How does she do it? It didn't matter how she did it. Tess wouldn't be doing it again. This was the last time the Latina ever beat her to anything.
With a look of disgust, Inge pointed downstairs emphatically, then left the room.
Sands let his smirk fade from his face; it was his turn to be disgusted. The CIA had sent a fucking babysitter after him to ensure the job got done. Damn. Knowing Inge, she'd probably mention this cozy domestic scene to someone. She'd always been one to stick her aristocratic nose where it wasn't wanted. Not to mention she could be more than a bit petty when she felt that she'd been insulted. Not at all like Te. . . . Sands rolled out of bed, found his boxers and jeans, and put them on. Not bothering with shirt or shoes – but retrieving his gun – he went downstairs, leaving any sympathetic feelings for Tess behind. One couldn't pity a puppet they were about to use, and this morning was going to completely smash any 'delicate feelings' between them. Which was exactly what he wanted.
Wasn't it?
*************************
Tess woke slowly as her mind floated through different levels of wakefulness. First she became aware of how much light was hitting her closed eyelids, then that the house was quiet, that her skin was amazingly sensitive, and that she smelled . . . Coffee?
Well, at least he has the decency to do that much.
The voice sounded extremely awake, which was never a good thing. It usually meant that it'd been plotting as she'd slept. What? Tess thought groggily.
Sands. No response. You are aware that you're completely naked under the covers, aren't you?
Sands? Tessa's eyes popped open as she became fully awake and fully aware of what she'd done the night before, both at her voice's urging, and because part of her had wanted to be close to someone once without pain. Twisting in her bed in panic, Tess searched the room for Sands. Fuck.
Yes. Exactly. The voice sounded irritatingly gleeful. I'm glad to see you remember what happened last night. What we did.
We? Sands wasn't in the room. He wasn't there, but that simply made the buzz of panic in her muscles increase. If she couldn't see him, then she didn't know what he was doing. And she couldn't see his reaction, then she didn't know what she was supposed to be doing in this situation. She could deal with other things, had learned to shut down part of her mind in order to deal with certain situations. But this? This was new. She didn't know where to store the memories or the feelings. That was never good. Especially now. She needed to know what to do, how to act. Unconsciously, her hand started tapping agitatedly on the bed. WhatdoIdo, whatdoIdo, whatdoIdo?
Calm down, tiger. Go get dressed. Tess got out of the bed, trembling in shock. It wasn't that bad, Teresa. Her voice stretched like a contented cat. Besides, what makes you think that he's still in the house?
Tess pointed to the pile of clothes on the floor. I think that, because that isn't my t-shirt lying on the floor.
Oh. Maybe I was wrong. Tess picked up the shirt and went into her walk-in closet, closing the door behind her. She put the shirt in her clothes hamper because that's where dirty clothes went. She knew that. That's right, the voice soothed, now get dressed. If he is still here, you don't want to be caught naked. That would mean you're defenseless. And I don't intend on letting what happened last night to become a regular occurrence. Or at least not with him. I can keep things in perspective – you'll fall in love, and that's on my list of "no-no's".
Tess pulled on a pair of jeans and a heavy sweater. She had chills racing down her spine that had nothing to do with the temperature or even her voice. There was ambient noise in her head, and that's what she feared. She needed just the one voice. As much as she grumbled, as much as it irritated her, it at least could help. The other voices were trouble. What did you mean by 'we?'
I mean exactly what it sounds like. You and I both agreed that the best thing to do would be to go to bed with Sands. And we did. And it was very good. Remember? The voice pleasantly sent a bolt of sensation through her. Tessa's knees went weak for a moment as she went into the bathroom.
Oh my god.
Yes. You said that several times last night as well. Or we said it. I'm still not quite clear on that.
Shaking her head as if that would help clear it, Tess looked in the mirror. Her hair was a complete disaster, but her face was flushed and her eyes were bright. Which was somewhat frightening since she felt as if she were falling apart inside. With a shaky hand, she picked up her brush and started running it through her hair, her only instinct to follow her routine. What am I going to do?
How should I know? This has never happened to me either.
Tess pulled her hair back in a ponytail, smoothing it back until every hair was in place. She washed her face in the sink, then took her pills. Now what? she asked as she washed the glass she'd just used.
Breakfast?
I'll have to go downstairs. What if he's there?
Then ignore him. Trust me. It'll be like he's not even there.
Ok. Stopping to put on her slippers, Tess left her room and went downstairs.
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The moment Sands walked into the living room, he realized just how much importance the agency was placing on this. Not only was Ingrid here – and doing her best not to sulk – but so was Colton's aide, Paul Strauss, and another man that Sands didn't recognize. Sands raised his eyebrows as he looked in the room, then turned on his heel to go into the kitchen and start some coffee. If they wanted to talk to him, that was all fine and good, but they'd regret it if he didn't get some caffeine in his system first.
Five minutes later he was sitting in an armchair across from Strauss, cup of coffee in one hand, lit cigarette in the other. "What're you doing here, Strauss? I was under the impression that I was going to be running this."
Strauss looked at the other agent, taking in his state of disarray. "Mixing business with pleasure, agent Sands?"
"It's the way to go, Pauly." Sands took a drag from his cigarette. "You didn't answer my question."
The man sighed, controlling his temper. Director Colton had warned him that Sands wasn't going to appreciate his appearance, but now he was thinking that had been an understatement. No matter how at ease Sands appeared, Strauss could feel the coiled tension in the man. "We discovered a few days ago that the . . . intelligence on the Barillo woman wasn't complete. We tried to inform you of this, but you weren't answering your phone."
Sands blew a cloud of smoke in Strauss' direction. "Technology. It's so unreliable." He knew Strauss wasn't buying it, but that was perfectly fine. "What was this information that was so urgent? Because, at the moment, I think I know more about Teresa Barillo than most men."
The man Sands didn't know smirked, but Strauss was unamused. "Agent Rochester informed me that Barillo is –"
"Right behind you." Tess had frozen for a moment when she'd found two strangers, her old roommate, and the man she'd . . . slept with . . . all in the same room. Panic had nearly overwhelmed her before the mask she'd used for so many years slammed into place. This was a situation that was normal compared to a 'morning after' scene. Ruthlessly, nearly twenty years of her past exploded into vibrant life, controlling her reactions, but nearly eclipsing what she was really seeing. It was as if one part of her mind was seeing 'now,' and the other – the part that was whispering continually – was seeing 'then.' Seeing the similarities between this meeting, and countless others she'd attended under the cartel.
Strangers in your home, Teresa. They're here to cause trouble. You have to get them out of the house. You have to appear strong or they'll devour you. Pay attention to the present and forget the other things you're seeing. With the help of her voice, the images of her past became hazy and ghost-like. With her grasp of real-life a bit more firm, she continued descending the stairs, her only sign of tension the hand gripping the railing with a white-knuckled fingers.
She entered the living room with her back straight, her head held high, and her face completely blank. Sands watched as a very collected Tess sat down in a chair just a foot or so away from his. He couldn't help but notice that she'd seated herself where she could see everyone in the room.
Tess sat with her back ramrod straight – as she'd been taught by her etiquette teachers – completely still and apparently at ease. Sands might have bought that if he hadn't felt the cloud of tight control around her or noticed how her left hand was tapping soundlessly but incessantly against the arm of the chair. "To what do I owe the pleasure, señores?" Tessa normally had a bit of an accent when speaking English, but now that accent was heavier than it normally was. Sands frowned – was Tess putting on an act to make people underestimate her, or was she closer to losing it than he'd thought? Now that he thought about it, she did seem like someone who'd give in to nervous breakdowns.
Tess surveyed the room, tilting her head to the side as she noticed Inge. "Oh, funny. For some reason I thought you were dead."
That's your old roommate, not Ajedrez. Ajedrez is dead.
"Oh, never mind. My mistake." Tess looked to Strauss. "And who are you?" Sands watched as the little drama unfolded, simply taking sips of his coffee and smoking his cigarette as if he were watching dinner theater or something like that. However, when she asked that question, he felt a bit of guilt and what might be alarm shoot through him, energizing his muscles. He doubted she'd take the news that he worked for the CIA well.
"I'm Paul Straus, assistant to Director William Colton of the Central Intelligence Agency."
Tess stared blankly at the man for a moment as her voice puffed up inside her head like an angry cat, hissing and spitting. Government – they're as bad as a cartel. They're here to use you. Get out. Now.
It was funny to feel two such disparate emotions at once; the voice was angry and panicked, but Tess felt nothing but the weight of disaster weighing her down. And go where? And why should I? Didn't Sands use me last night? I suppose we should have taken into consideration the fact that we were getting screwed in more than one way. It was too late to run. "What do you want, Paul Strauss of the CIA?"
"Ms. Barillo –" he stopped when Tessa's eyes closed and she pressed the heel of her hand to forehead, looking to Inge in uncertainty when Tess rocked her body back and forth once or twice. Then just as suddenly as she'd become distressed, she stopped, looking back up with a blank face and clear eyes.
"I'm sorry. I prefer to go by Teresa Adame. I'm sure you can understand why I wouldn't want to be reminded daily that I'm the bastard daughter of a drug lord who more than likely ruined thousands of lives," she said matter-of-factly. In fact there was no emotion in her voice at all. Dismissing Strauss for a moment, she looked at Sands. "I suppose you're CIA as well?" she asked almost pleasantly.
He nodded. Sands knew Tess better than anyone in this house, and he knew what she sounded like when she was trying to be pleasant. This wasn't it. This was the voice he'd heard as she'd begged to be left alone in her dreams. Something was wrong. Unfortunately, Strauss had never dropped the other shoe about what had been left out of the intelligence file on her. Whatever it was, it was no small thing.
"Ms. Adame." Tess turned her head back to Strauss. He was clearly trying to contain impatience. "I'm sorry to barge in on you like this, but I'm afraid we need your help."
"My help?" That was funny. She couldn't even help herself. "You managed to dig up my 'secret past' somehow, you found me in my new home when I left no forwarding address with anyone, you managed to break into my house, and send an agent to spy on me. And yet, you need my help." That was a joke.
Strauss didn't even look ashamed of what had happened. "Yes."
"And what kind of help is it that you think you need?" Again, there was that tone that Tess used when trapped in her nightmares, but there was an ironic smile on her face. Both hands were tapping now, and she curled her legs under her to keep her feet from tapping as well. Sands could see the minute tremors wracking her body, and for the first time, thought that perhaps this wasn't as good an idea as everyone seemed to think it was.
"Pauly –"
"Shh, Sands, I want to hear what the nice man has to say."
Strauss mistakenly took this as a sign that she was willing to help. He leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees as he gestured with his hands. "In the wake of last November's failed coup, we believed that the cartel run by your family was destroyed, but we've received evidence that it wasn't. Not only is it intact, but it's looking to add to its territory. We want you to help us get a man inside so we can shut them down once and for all."
Sands watched as all the color drained from Tessa's face. God. If they'd just left things to me I could have convinced her to help. He knew that there was no way she was going to help now. He only had a few hours worth of seeing emotions move over her face, but he had weeks of hearing her agitation and feelings. She was going to say no, and they were going to push her, which normally, he wouldn't mind watching, but something told him that this would be getting in over all their heads.
Tess laughed, waves of hysterical, barking laughter that had nothing to do with actual humor. There was no way in hell that she was going back to Mexico. Her laugher continued, as she shook her head in dismay.
Shut up! You're giving everything away.
The laugher stopped suddenly, as if someone had slit her throat. "No."
Damn you, Teresa. You had to loose it, didn't you? Look at them. Tess looked back at Strauss and at the nameless man behind him. They were staring at her in a kind of fascinated horror. They know. Who do you think it was who told them?
Inge. As the name ran through her mind, she realized she couldn't see her old roommate anymore. She was in the act of jumping from her chair when a hand on her shoulder forced her back down, and a sudden dart of pain flowered in her arm. She looked down in confusion, not really understanding that she was even feeling pain. The sensation was disassociated, as if she were feeling sympathy pain for someone else. But the needle in her arm turned that idea on its side.
"What the hell is going on here?"
Tess was aware that Sands had jumped to his feet beside her, and that he was talking to the other men in the room, but she couldn't take her eyes from the blond, who had a triumphant smirk on her face.
"What did you just give me?" she whispered, not in fear, but as if someone had just punched her in the gut.
"Just a little something to hurry the process along and to show you just what might happen if you say no to this assignment."
I always told you she hated you. Tess stood up, holding on to the chair back, the Whisperers were back, and they were louder than ever. There was the one that was happy, and the one that was scared. The one that hated, that was hungry, that loved, that lusted, that was angry, that laughed, that cried, that hid, that argued, that watched with empty eyes as someone died . . . they were all there. All those and more. Slowly, Tessa covered her ears as they yelled and battled for her attention.
Too quiet. It's too quiet. She had to drown them out. Sands turned to Tess just in time to see her walk over to the stereo and start sorting through CDs. No good, no good, no good. Finally she found what she wanted and put it in. "A Night on Bald Mountain," she commented softly. "She always did like that." Almost sensually, Tess pressed the play button and turned back to the now silent group. "Do you know why She likes it?" Tess answered even though no one showed any inclination for her to do so. "It's because we watched Fantasia once, and She liked how there was one demon who was stronger than all the other ghouls and goblins. Like how Her voice is the loudest. The others can come out to play, but She's really the one controlling them. Although, at the moment they're under active revolt." She laughed. "You could say the Whisperers are throwing their own little coup d'etat." Tessa's face dropped suddenly, and she walked over to Inge. She studied the other woman, tilting her head this way and that, as if trying to make a decision. "Shh, no. That would make a mess," she commented, although not to anyone who was in the room. "She always told me that you hated me. She could never say why, though. Why do you hate me, Ingrid?"
Sands watched, frozen in place as Tess came apart before his eyes. He was used to dealing with a lot of screwed up shit, but nothing like this. Silently, he warned Inge not to answer, but the blond did just as she always did. She decided that the best way to end a conversation was by verbally lashing out at whoever she was mad at.
"I hate you because before you came along, I had my life planned out. Grow up, become a very rich doctor, marry another very rich doctor, then settle down. As the years passed, I decided Logan would be that doctor. He was attractive, popular, came from a good family, and seemed to like me too. And then you came along and then I was relegated to the friend that had to listen to how you were oblivious to how he felt about you. But I got over that. Moved on. Went to work for the CIA, where I met Sheldon. And he was almost mine, but he balked and I was willing to play out the line. But he disappeared in Mexico, and then I heard that you'd found him. That you'd tended him, comforted him, even preformed a miracle by giving him the opportunity to restore his eyesight. How can any girl compete with that? How can anyone compete with someone as perfect as you? God, you spent six weeks in a psych ward, and you still came in second in our class. If you hadn't, you would have been first in the class. And not only that, but you're as crazy as a loon, and men still flock to you because then they can 'protect' you. They can be the big strong man with the helpless girl." Inge glared at Tess. "That's why I hate you."
"Oh." She looked off to her side and asked, "Satisfied?" She then nodded and looked back at Inge. "I just think that you should know that She wants to kill you because of what you've just done. She doesn't mind trying to win, but She hates it when others interfere in our game. I think She's come to like me a little. However, I don't want to kill you. So we compromised." Sands jumped forward to stop Tess, well aware that she knew how to defend herself, but Tess was faster. Before Inge could move out of range, Tess had managed to throw a right hook into the other woman's eye, blackening it, before whirling her around and slamming her head into the wall.
Sands grabbed Tess from behind, but the woman paid him no mind, looking down at Inge, who'd fallen to the floor and was staring up in shock. Her body began to sway from left to right as she still looked down at her fallen foe. Then her hand flew up, and Tess let out a low cry as again she slammed the heel of her hand into her forehead, like someone trying to get their computer to work. Sands tightened his arms, prepared should Tess try to fight, but she didn't. Instead her body moved back into Sands', pressing against him as one of her hands reached between them to knead his thigh. //Yo sencillamente quero tu saber tan yo disfrutó pasado noches.\\ I just want you to know that I enjoyed last night. Her voice was a seductive purr. //Terésa esta es un persona poco aventurera, y nunca poner en libertad jugar.\\ Teresa is a stick-in-the-mud, and never lets me come out to play.
"Is that right?" Sands asked without letting go. There was no guarantee that Tess was going to stay like this for long.
"Sí." Almost as if she'd read his mind, again her hand clasped at her head, and again her behavior changed, although this time she was doing something he expected from her; she was fighting to get free. "Let me go, I'm sorry. I won't do it again. I promise. Please father, please don't –" Her voice broke off as she moaned and her body went limp. Sands was lowering her to the floor when she suddenly twisted with a snarl, and broke out of his hold. She stood, poised to run, and stared at him for a moment, then fled, running into a room down the hall and slamming the door behind her.
Deciding that it was best to leave her alone for the moment, Sands turned on the three agents who had started all this. "What the fuck was that about?"
Strauss was holding a handkerchief to a split above Inge's left eye, while the woman tended to a split lip. Sands had to admit that Tess knew how to inflict real damage if she got pissed off. He'd have to remember that. He switched his attention back to his 'superior' as the man answered his question. "That was the last card in a poor hand, and unfortunately, it was a wild card. We need her to get inside the Barillo cartel. Without her we'll fail and that would be a very large embarrassment to the CIA. However, we knew she'd turn us down unless we had something to hold over her head. Until Inge told us the one secret that Barillo has managed to hide all this time, the only threat we had was to deport her kids. However –"
"Stop talking in riddles and tell me what is going on." Sands pulled his gun out of his holster and started twirling it around one finger as anguished cries started making their way through the door of Tessa's refuge.
"She's a schizophrenic, Sheldon." Inge batted Strauss' hand away and looked Sands in the eye. "A grade A schizoid. I've no idea how she even managed to get you back to the States without wigging out. Or maybe she didn't. Maybe she was overdosing on pills and suppressants. Not that it really matters."
"What the hell did you give her?" Sands demanded.
"A few CCs of dopamine. It threw the off the balance in her head. Although, she was apparently already more than a little off balance after last night. She would have wigged out on you eventually." Sands didn't quite believe that. Tess was made of strong stuff if she'd been holding off an imminent breakdown just to deal with his colleagues. "Tell me, do you enjoy fucking total nutcases?"
"You're such a cat, Inge." Sands holstered his gun again. "Because you know, it seems to me that, aside from being a little mentally ill, she's pretty normal." He grinned, "Besides, at least I don't have to worry if she's faking it in the sack." Inge growled and tried to hit him, but Strauss held her back.
"That was unnecessary, agent Sands."
"So's holding a woman's sanity over her head. If you'd waited just another twenty-four hours, I could have gotten her to go along with things without all the histrionics, although I realize that would have robbed you of your power rush."
"What's wrong, Sheldon? Don't tell me you actually care about Teresa," Inge mocked.
"No, I just prefer not to have my toys stolen." A loud crash came from the bathroom. Fuck. Sands was sure he'd heard glass breaking. In her current frame of mind, who knew was Tess could do. Walking across the room, he grabbed Inge's wrist and hauled her to her feet.
"What the hell do you think you're doing, Sheldon?" she demanded, trying to free herself.
"You're the doctor in the house. I would think it'd be in the best interests of the Agency if you managed to calm your 'old friend' down before she slits her wrists, or OD's on meds, or something equally fatal."
Sands had managed to drag Inge partway down the hallway, when the front doors opened. Both agents twirled around, Sands going for his gun, but the only person there was the housekeeper. And the youngest kid.
Cora just froze on the threshold, a bag of groceries in her arms. Selena however, had no problem with the strange people in the house. The toddler was a natural people person, loving to sit and babble at complete strangers if the opportunity ever opened for her to do so. And because of this natural and cheerful tendency, she headed for Sands and Inge with determined and nearly running footsteps. "Lena! Parada!" Stop!
The girl paused uncertainly, and looked back at Cora, before heading for Sands again. Reluctantly, Sands put his gun away, although he made no move to pick up the child clinging to his pant leg. "Looks like you're off the hook, Inge. I bet Cora would be able to lend more of a hand than you will. Wouldn't you?" he addressed the woman who was still standing in the open door. There was another crash in the bathroom and more yelling.
"Oh my god." Cora dropped her groceries and went to the bathroom door, pushing past Sands. She tried to open it, but it was locked. "Tessa? Open the door!"
"Stay away from me! I know what you want. I know. Just leave me alone."
Cora looked at the strange man who was still ignoring the toddler who was clinging to him. "Who are you?" She shook her head, asking another question before he could answer. "Never mind that. I need to know what set her off and how long she's been like this." The sound of running water emerged from the room.
Sands wasn't quite sure how to answer that. What was he supposed to say? Oh, well, I spent the majority of last evening screwing your boss, and then this morning she was already teetering on the edge of a major psychological breakdown before one of my colleagues and ex-lover gave her something that would ensure she'd go berserk? "I'm afraid that one of my fellow agents got a little trigger happy with a syringe of dopamine."
Cora simply stared at the man, revulsion slowly creeping over her face. "And who do you happen to be? How did you get into the house?"
"Well, I can't speak for the rest of them, but I picked the lock." Sighing, Sands pulled his ID out of his back pocket. "Sheldon Sands, CIA." He let the woman take it and examine it.
"Nice to see gratitude in action," she muttered, giving the badge back to him.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Cora shook her head. "Since I get the feeling you're part of the cause of this, you can help me." She pulled her keys out of her pocket and unlocked the door. "If Tess hasn't settled down and gone into one of her periods of withdrawal, then I'm going to need you to restrain her while I give her a tranquilizer and a dose of her dopamine suppressant."
Sands looked down at Selena who'd taken to standing on his foot and begging for attention. "And what am I supposed to do with, shorty, here?"
Cora sighed and picked the toddler up, carrying her into the spare bedroom across the hall and setting her in a playpen. The child instantly started to cry, but Cora simply shut the door. There'd be time to comfort the child later, after Tess had been taken care off.
Coming back to the door, she unlocked it, but didn't immediately open it. "Tessa?" she called. "I'm coming in." There was no answer.
The woman opened the door, slowly pushing it open, standing to one side of the doorway as Sands stood on the other. They cautiously looked inside the small room; Tess was sitting in a bathtub full of steaming water, fully clothed, and playing with a piece of the broken mirror. She was humming to herself softly, occasionally pricking her fingers on the pointed piece of glass. "Humpty-Dumpty sat on a wall. Humpty-Dumpty had a great fall. All the king's horses, and all the king's men, couldn't put Humpty together again." She giggled.
"Tess?" The woman's head turned towards the duo in the doorway, but she didn't look away from her piece of mirror. "What are you doing, Tess?"
"They want to know what we're doing," she confided to the reflective surface. "What should I tell them?" She was silent for a few seconds, then nodded. "Yes, that'll do. She says that we're cold and we can't feel anything. She doesn't like that. I think She's spoiled after last night – I let Her feel things with me." Finally Tess looked up, smiling at Cora, but staring blankly at Sands.
He looked back at her, stifling the shock that was rising up in him. How had she managed to hide this so well? It was true that he'd had other things to deal with during the time he'd spent with her, but this. . . .
Tess looked away, sinking down into the water even more. "Black death with no eyes," she muttered. "Go away. You're not supposed to be here. I left. I left for you. You were supposed to accept that. A woman will always sacrifice herself if you give her the opportunity. It is her favorite form of self-indulgence. Why couldn't you give me that much?" She turned the sliver of glass and raised her left hand out of the water. With the utmost concentration and care, she slowly pressed the glass against her hand, trailing it from wrist bone to the fist knuckle of her pinky finger. A fine line of crimson emerged in its wake. "Why can't I feel it?" she muttered.
Cora went into the room and looked in the destroyed medicine cabinet, cursing when she saw the shattered remains of the injection she needed to give Tess. She turned to Sands, "Watch her and stop her if she tries to do any serious damage. I have to go get another injection out of another room." She left and Sands entered the bathroom, careful to avoid stepping on any of the slivers of glass on the floor.
He took a seat on the toilet and watched Tess as she ignored him. "What are you doing, niña?"
Tess sighed. "Razors pain ya, Rivers are damp,/Acids sting ya, Drugs cause cramp,/Guns aren't lawful, Nooses give,/Gas smells awful, Ya might as well live." She finally looked at Sands. "When we remember we are all mad, the mysteries disappear and life stands explained." She looked back at her hand and started tracing her lifeline, raising a small welt. "Why? Why me?"
"What do you mean?"
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Tess didn't answer Sands. She was too busy listening to her mind.
All I'm saying is, maybe he can help us feel.
Tess looked into the small fragment of mirror she held. It'd taken several minutes to find the one that held Her. She'd had to discard the ones that held Whisperers. It was funny – she'd never actually seen her voice before, but for some reason she wasn't surprised to see it looked like a desert fox. Big ears, a small body for getting into small places, and used to surviving in wastelands others avoided. "No. Why would that be any different? I can't feel. There's not enough left of me to feel. They've taken it all. I'm all broken inside."
Fine. You don't want to die, you don't want to feel, you don't want to talk to anyone. . . . So what's the purpose of sitting here?
"I don't know."
Look. One kiss is all it would take to find out whether or not he can help. And I don't think he'd really be disinclined to going along with it.
"Right. Who cares that I'm not myself?"
Are you going to do it, or not?
"Fine." Tess slowly stood up, dropping the mirror as she did so.
Clumsy idiot! Pick me up. I don't like getting wet.
Sands watched as Tess bent over and searched for the piece of glass she'd dropped. It was eerie to sit and listen to her converse with someone only she could hear. Once she had the mirror back in hand, she looked at him, studying him intently. Then she sighed again, as if resigned to her fate, then started pulling the sweater over her head. He watched, still somewhat in shock as she pulled the sodden piece of clothing off and dropped it into the tub. Wet t-shirt contest. She was wearing a light green t-shirt underneath the sweater, which was also soaking wet, and he could see that she'd put on a bra under the t-shirt. She then set the mirror fragment on the side of the tub and removed her jeans, revealing dark blue underwear. This done, she climbed out of the tub and seated herself on his lap. He moved his hands away so they'd be free to pin her arms to her sides if he had too, but he was wary of doing anything else.
Footsteps distracted him from his study of Tess – Cora was in the doorway. One eyebrow was raised as she surveyed the scene. Sands automatically started to defend himself, on edge because of Tessa's strange behavior. "I –"
"I know, you didn't do anything. At least not this morning. Something tells me that you did do something to make her fixated on you though. Possibly, it's just all the time she spent with you last year." Cora shook her head. "Just keep her still as I give this to her." She set the tranquilizer on the counter; Tess was acting calm enough that Cora thought the suppressant would be enough to help her get back under control.
Meanwhile, Tess was leaning in to touch Sands. She could feel resistance when her fingers met his chest, but couldn't feel any textures, couldn't feel the warmth of his skin. "This isn't going to work," she muttered, but she pressed on anyway. Hesitantly, she pressed her lips to his; if he responded, she couldn't tell. Disgusted, she started to get up, but his arms trapped her.
Not good. Get away.
"Why bother?" she asked. "It doesn't matter." She relaxed, turning her head to watch as Cora primed the syringe.
Cora was relieved when Tess didn't fight against Sands' firm hold on her. The last thing she needed was for the needle to break off in Tessa's arm. She quickly gave the shot as Tess watched her out of blank eyes. "Let's get her into bed. She'll sleep most of the day, if not the entire day. And then you can give me some answers as to what's going on."
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Sands didn't like being recruited as a male nurse. If he had his way, he'd be free of this place until Tess was in a condition to talk to him again.
She helped you, Sheldon. Just get her into bed.
Why is it that you only appear around her? Sands was convinced that this voice was his conscience.
He gently laid Tess on her bed. She stirred, her gaze loosing some of the vacuous haze that'd started taking her over after Cora had given her the medication. "I know you," she murmured. Sands didn't answer. Tess sighed and turned her head to look out the window. "I understand it all now. I understand why they did it, why you didn't want to contact your bosses. I couldn't either. I don't like governments. I don't like cartels. All either of them care about is power." She was tired and the Whisperers were finally falling silent. That just left what she had to say to him. "The fear of death is what keeps you alive,/A deadly mission you must survive,/You lurk in the shadows, darkness a friend,/The lies begin and never end,//Secret agent, your law is a gun,/Secret agent, you trust no one,/Secret agent, a man in black,/Secret agent, a gun at your back,//Truth is out there, you know it's a lie,/Trust no one, if you do you die,/Government deployed, what's at stake?/Double agent out on the stake,/Charged with treason, secrets to sell,/Signed in blood, a contract with hell,/Followed orders, no questions asked,/Suicide mission, could be your last . . ." With great effort Tess focused her tired eyes on Sands. "That was you, wasn't it?"
"What are you talking about?" Sands looked at Tess, trapped by the unveiled secrets in her eyes.
"Great wits are sure to madness near allied/And thin partitions do their bounds divide." Tess laughed, but it was a hollow laugh. He was wearing black. Even the blood on his face was turning black. "I can see it all. You didn't trust anyone –except for my half-sister. You controlled the 'truth' that people heard, but didn't get enough of it yourself. You were playing both sides, weren't you? That's why you're still working for them. But when you played with the cartel, you didn't know what you were getting into. And it was too late when you finally found out, so you settled for killing as many as you could before dying yourself." Tess yawned. "Do you hate me for that? For not letting you die?" Her eyes closed, releasing him. "I think you do. That's why you came back when they offered you the chance." She drifted off into sleep, but not before she murmured, "Lo siento." I'm sorry.
Sands moved to the doorway, watching as Cora took over, ignoring the sharp glances the woman shot him every now and again. He had bigger problems on his hands.
He needed a smoke.
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Quotes: Benny and Joon; W. Somerset Maugham; Girl, Interrupted; Mark Twain; Anvil; Dryden
Author's Thanks: Thanks go to:
C.J. Davis (if I've evoked an emotional response from you, then I know I'm doing a good job.); Isola (thanks. Not being mentally ill myself, it's difficult for me to really know what I'm doing, but I have a great beta who's taking care of that sort of thing for me. ^_^ As for where I stopped, it had to be done for those readers who'd rather avoid such things.); Pixy (that would be strange, to see a completely different person that who you were used to. I imagine it'd be just as hard as looking at someone who'd lost their eyes.); Nimwen (I'm glad that I'm managing to maintain the standard I set with 'Eyes'. I'm doing this, and I'm loving it, so I don't want to do it halfway.); Kontara (I don't think you ever sent me your e-mail so I could send you the unedited versions. If you still want them, I'd love to send them to you.); pirategurl85 (I like your e-mail address. I'm also glad that you're enjoying my story(s). This is something I started because I had a crazy idea, and apparently, it wasn't so crazy afterall.); Dreamgirl21147 (I hope this was up soon enough for you.) Beringae (I'm amazed that people stay up that late to read things. I don't know why – I once stayed up until five to finish a particularly long fic in another fandom – but I'm always gratified to hear it. I'm glad that you found that I'm keeping Sands in character. He's a tricky one. ^_^); Aurelius (broken records are fun. ^_^); Crystal Symphony (thanks for the complements. Like I've said often enough, Sands is a tricky one, and there's so many ways to interpret him. Mine will be different than anyone else's, and probably a bit different than Johnny's even, but I do try to do my best to keep him in the character I've given him.); The Flaming Chia Pet (I hope you enjoyed the slip. I know I loved writing it.); Nefarious Coda (why beat around the bush when straight facts can be ever so much more enticing? ^_^); Dreamshadow13 (No, 'I love you' definitely would not work right now. I'm not sure it'll ever work. I suppose I'll find out if it does right along with the rest of you.); Digital Diamond (again, thanks for beta-ing. I'm glad to keep things as realistic as possible.); grace (I try to do things like that, using that little conversation. I know I remember conversations I've had for years, even if they weren't important. I still remember what song I had stuck in my head at an event I went to two years ago. Real life involves those little memories triggered by innocent conversation, and I like including that.); Kristin (That was one thing that did manage to bug me about 'Eyes'. There was a small space of time that I had to keep the events inside of, but there was so much that needed to be said, so many POV's to explore. So much character building to do. Now I've got most of that set and can move along faster. Not to mention that this is going to have a bit more action in it.); Krissy (College material sucks, I agree.); Gia-Jolie (I've always thought that if you're going to borrow someone else's characters, that you should try to keep them as true to character as possible. I'm just glad that I've managed that. And Tess . . . well, I love Tess. She's my baby. ^_^); nebber (thanks. I'm glad that everyone has liked those first two chapters so far, and I'm glad that you were glad to find more of the story. ^_^)
And lastly, thanks to my team of awesome betas: Ashley, Merrie, and Sara (oddly enough). Without you, this story wouldn't be nearly as good as I hope it is.
