Darkness Rising

A Once Upon a Time in Mexico story by Merrie

Disclaimer: Robert who? SJ is all mine! Mine I tell you! is carted away by nice men in white with butterfly nets

Summary: Sands and Jeffrey, after having a good long homicidal run have finally been caught. So what happens next? And how the hell does a wanted psychopath wind up in the CIA anyway?

Characters: Jeffrey, Sands, Roland Rivers, Emily Brisbane, Lauren Drasden, Julian Manchester and Dr. Claire Harrington

Author's Note: Well it's been a year and a half since this has been updated…well not quite but close…and I am sorry for that. So without further ado, the new chapter!

Rating: R for extreme violence, graphic imagery and language.

Chapter Twenty-Four: Renewed Acquaintances

"I feel like Hannibal Lector," Sands muttered aloud as one of his armed entourage of guards tightened the strap holding his arm to the wheelchair he had been forced to sit in.

Lauren Drasden stood watching and smirked. "You should have thought of that before you went out and killed all those people," she said dryly. "Stop your whingeing or I'm going to ask one of these fine gentlemen to include a gag."

"You wouldn't dare. You enjoy the pleasure of my conversation too much to do something foolish like that," Sands responded with a grin and a lazy loll of his head against the back of the wheelchair.

"I just have to take you for a "walk." There's nothing in the hospital bylines that says I have to listen to you," Lauren pointed out as she checked and double checked the restraints, never moving closer than was necessary to Sands.

Sands laughed. "The idea that you have to take me on "walks" is hilarious. You don't look like one to care about ethics, Harrington either, so why bother with pretenses? Why not just keep me caged in my little cell of a room and throw away the key? I know that's what the CIA's urging you to do," Sands murmured.

Supposedly it was unethical to keep a prisoner in restraints for long periods of time without some kind of respite, even if that prisoner was a confessed murderer. Lauren didn't agree with this concept at all but Sands had behaved himself over the past few weeks as he healed and her conscience would be screaming at her if she didn't do this one small thing for him. "Oh I'm sure you'll be put there soon enough. But apparently they seem some insane need to try you first."

"Yeah, the law is funny that way," Sands murmured with a smirk. "They'll probably just put me to death anyway. It's no big deal."

Lauren snorted. Only a truly insane man could manage to be so glib about being executed by the state for his crimes. "Actually knowing my luck they'll probably deem you twisted enough to throw you into a padded cell for the rest of your life. And since we seem to get along so well, they'll probably force me to look after you. Life sucks sometimes."

"Well you could just let me go and you wouldn't have to put up with me ever again," Sands offered with a slight grin before turning completely serious. "They're not locking me up. I'd rather die."

Lauren nodded in silence. It wasn't a view she hadn't heard before. Many of her patients would have rather chosen death or imprisonment than spend a lifetime in an institution such as this one. "You're not going to be let go, Sands. You might as well stop asking. And I'm sure the courts will deem you aware of your actions when you killed those people. You will surely be put to death."

"You really think so?" he asked bemusedly, and Lauren was a bit unsettled by the sound of hope in his voice. He truly wanted to be put to death if the only other option was a lifetime spent in a padded cell and straightjacket. She nodded in response to his question though. "The reason I ask is because I haven't always had the best luck when it comes to dealing with the law."

"I'm aware of that," Lauren said evenly as she remembered just what had happened to him all those weeks ago. He had barely been out of surgery when a member of the CIA had thought it necessary to beat the shit out of him. Knowing Sands as she did now she knew without a doubt that he had the singular ability to drive men to extreme measures in dealing with him but that did not excuse what the man Rivers had done.

Sands grinned then and Lauren could tell he was beginning to lose what tenuous grasp of lucidity he held right now. "Now what are you going to do with us, Lauren. We're tied, we're bound. We're in your control. You like that, don't you? You like being in control. We like it too. We understand your desires, your lusts. You want us," Sands tossed his head back to stare up at the ceiling, exposing his pale throat as if he wanted her to bite it. Knowing his…proclivities, that probably wasn't far from the truth. "They can stay and watch," he said breathlessly, gesturing to the two armed guards with a slight nod. "Just give into what we both want, Lauren. Give a poor bastard one last fuck before the end. You won't even have to undo the restraints."

Lauren scowled, forcing away the unwanted stab of arousal that she always felt when he asked her such things, despite her rational disgust at the asking. Her body assured her that it could be good between them, he was more than handsome and his requests certainly were…provocative, but her mind cried out in disgust and revulsion. He was a murderer. A monster who lived to manipulate others as he was manipulating her now. "Save your propositions, Sands. I'm not interested."

Sands laughed and she just barely kept herself from flinching at the sound. "You're lying. We can practically smell the lust on you, Lauren. Be the bad girl. Give in to what we both want. Make me scream, Lauren. Make me beg for your touch. You know you could. I'm in your control. Just give in."

"If you don't shut your mouth and leave Ms. Drasden alone I'm going to show you just what pain is, you sick bastard," one of the guards spoke up before she could respond.

Lauren visibly groaned at her erstwhile protector's comment. When were the fools in charge of this hospital going to send her guards that knew better than to try and play to Sands' games? The poor bastard was falling into Sands' trap even now.

Sands turned to the guard and grinned, ignoring Lauren's groaning. "Would you now? And how would you do that? Are you a sadist like me, Joe?"

Joe the hospital guard started at how Sands had possibly learned his name-he checked to make sure there wasn't a nametag on his shirt and frowned to see that indeed their wasn't-and glowered at him in anger. "I am nothing like you, you sick son of a bitch. Speak to me that way again and I'll shoot you."

Sands sighed, his good humour gone. It was hard to stay in a good mood with all the fucking drugs they kept pumping into him, but it was even harder to take pleasure into manipulating someone so easily manipulated. "You're not worth our time," he muttered to the now purple-faced guard. "Driver? Let's get out of here," he called backwards to Lauren. "You and I can stop for a quickie on the way." He winked, making sure that the guard saw the gesture. The guard did and as Sands had predicted he lunged towards him, hands outstretched to beat and abuse.

Sands didn't bother to flinch or fight back. He couldn't do much of anything except glare seeing that his hands were strapped to the chair he was pushed around in. He just lifted his chin in expectation of a blow that never came.

"Enough, Joe. He's just trying to goad you and apparently it's working. Stop being such an idiot and pull yourself together. I don't care where you go, but you can't stay here," Lauren hissed, not moving from her position between him and Sands no matter how much she might want to. Sands was an arrogant prick who she had wanted to slug more than a few times herself but she hadn't. And she wasn't about to let anyone else give into the temptation that she was forced to deny herself either.

"But you can't—" the guard started, turning to his fellow guard-Chris she thought his name was-with a pleading look for solidarity. Chris to his credit hadn't moved a muscle throughout this whole thing, just watched the proceedings with a detached eye. He wasn't an idiot. Lauren could see that and he would be allowed to remain.

"I can and I am. Get out," Lauren said evenly, pointing at the door. "I'll be fine with Chris. Oh and if you're so easily manipulated by men who can't otherwise lay a finger on you I suggest you look into a new line of work."

Seeing that his fellow guard was going to be no help whatsoever, Joe turned on a polished heel and left the room, muttering "I won't be sorry when he kills that bitch," just loud enough for Lauren to hear.

Sands opened his mouth to give a parting comment but the fierce glare Lauren leveled on him kept his mouth shut for the time being.

"Would you like me to radio for a new guard to be sent up, Miss?" the remaining guard asked, a decent-looking man in his thirties with auburn hair and a boxer's physique. He exuded a sense of danger and Lauren was suddenly startled to realise that Sands had yet to try and manipulate him into leaving. Perhaps he sensed what she herself did. This was a man not to be messed with.

She sighed and did her best to think of the correct answer to his question rather than the emotional and irritated one on the tip of her tongue. "I'm just taking Mr. Sands to get some air. He's fully secured and we won't be leaving the grounds. I'm sure you're more than capable to deal with him yourself for the rest of the day. I wouldn't want to inconvenience Officer Silber anymore than I already have these past weeks," she said with a slight lift of her shoulders.

"Oh I don't think he minds, Miss. He's never complained about you before and trust me, he considers almost everyone in this hospital an idiot who isn't worth his time. He doesn't much care for your…boss," he said tactfully.

"Dr. Harrington fortunately isn't my boss although she tries to be. And I agree with him. Most of the doctors here aren't worth their salt, but if you tell anyone I said that I'll deny it and have you fired," she said seriously although her voice was sweet.

Chris nodded. "I understand, Ms. Drasden. I won't say a word."

She nodded. "I know you won't which is why I'm convinced to give Officer Silber at least one day without a complaint from me for a new guard. I'm sure you're competent enough to know when you're in over your head and to do something about it." She gestured towards Sands with a nod of her head.

"Of course, Miss," he said with a nod, appreciating her faith in him. He knew he was good at his job, and it was gratifying to see that he wasn't the only one.

"But now I think it's time to go," she said with a glance at Sands, taking in his glassy eyes and the fact that he hadn't spoken a word in a manner of minutes. If someone didn't talk to him and keep his focus he often found himself overtaken by the drugs they gave him to keep him docile. Since he had kept his word by being moderately cooperative for her and the other doctors, she strove to keep hers by keeping him as lucid as possible without compromising their safety. She wasn't about to lessen any of his doses for a promise. She wasn't a fool. But she would try and keep him centered on the present.

"Sands?" she asked directly, locking gazes with him. It took a moment but his expression finally settled into something other than mindless obedience. As appreciated as that was, she couldn't stand seeing it on him. She knew he was dangerous, knew he had killed dozens of people, and yet she couldn't bring herself to want him mindless and drooling. "Time to go."

Sands nodded, his brow furrowing as he looked at her. He had been thinking of something…saying something…and then all of a sudden it was gone. The first few times it had happened to him he'd freaked out but now he was unwillingly becoming used to the state the drugs they forced upon him put him into. He couldn't hear Jeffrey at the moment-sometimes he was able to whisper but not always-and his moods were fluid and dulled at the edges. He didn't get angry, he didn't get happy, he just was. "I want a cigarette," he grumbled as Lauren pushed his chair out through the door into the heart of the hospital, the lone guard following close behind.

"This is a hospital, you're not allowed to smoke," Lauren reminded him for the tenth time. "And smoking's not good for you."

"A lot of things aren't good for me," he murmured in return. "Take me outside then. I'll smoke there."

"It's the middle of winter, Sands. You'll freeze," Lauren said with a sigh. She herself had never seen the appeal in sucking on a bit of a burnt weed and paper. Did he have any idea what that crap did to his lungs?

"I don't care," he muttered. "I'm not able to scratch my own nose or jerk-off without a guard present to make sure I'm not going to kill you all with my bare hands, the least you can do is let me have a fucking cigarette. Even prison inmates get cigarettes."

"I don't have any," Lauren said after a long moment of contemplation. "But if you can't possibly live without one I'll ask around."

"I've got one, Ms," Chris offered behind her shoulder. She jumped at his sudden voice, having forgotten that he was there. The better security guards of the hospital had an uncanny ability to sneak up on her which they practiced with irritating regularity. Lauren had a sneaking suspicion they were doing it on purpose.

"Chris, my armed comrade. I think I just might have to marry you," Sands drawled, eying the man gratefully. "Or at least send you flowers. Can I send him flowers, Lauren?"

"Ms. Drasden," she reminded him under her breath.

"I prefer roses but your continued cooperation would be preferable," Chris answered Sands' offhand comment wryly.

Sands pretended to consider it. "Keep me well-stocked in cigarettes and I'll be a good boy," he offered with a disarming grin.

"I don't believe you, but at least they'll keep you quiet for awhile," Chris muttered, giving Lauren a shrug when she shot him a pointed glare.

"You still can't smoke in the hospital," she muttered, hating how nagging she sounded but not really caring otherwise. Sands was a dangerous patient and here his guard was offering him cigarettes as if they were old pals. It didn't sit well with her.

"Take me up to the roof then," Sands hastened to suggest again, clearly willing to do anything for the cigarette Chris had offered.

Lauren frowned at the obvious drug-seeking behaviour but nodded. "We're all going to freeze but I guess you don't care as long as you get your nicotine fix, right?" Sands nodded eagerly and Lauren let out an unladylike snort. "You two can show how macho you are and freeze your dick's off. I'm going to grab a coat."

"I think I'll be macho, Ms.," Chris said with a smirk and a wink.

"I don't really have a choice either way but I'll gladly freeze for a cigarette. Do you know how long it's been since I've had one? I dare not contemplate it. I think I might slip into depression. Not," he eyed the IV line running into his arm with disdain, "that that's even possible with the drugs you all seem fit to give me."

"Suck it up, mister. If you wanted to complain about antipsychotics, you should have thought of that before you turned psychotic," Lauren muttered, pushing him in the direction of the elevators so they could head up to the roof. The employee break room was on the way and that's where she'd hung her coat this morning.

"You say this like it's my fault," Sands murmured, lolling his head backwards to look at her. "That I just woke up one day and decided to be like this. I didn't you know."

Lauren didn't answer. It wasn't her job to coddle the psychotics, not matter how handsome they might be.

WWW

Julian Manchester paced the waiting room the hospital wondering what the hell he was doing here. The man the police had in custody, one Sheldon Jeffrey Sands, had all but taken him hostage in his own house and more than once threatened to kill him. When he had fled the masquerade ball last month Julian had been relieved. Who wouldn't be? If half of what they said about his old schoolmate was true-and Julian was inclined to believe all of it-then Sands was a very sick man indeed; one to be avoided. So it came back to the question: Just what the bloody hell was he doing here?

He had no idea really. Was he here to gloat? It was possible but not plausible. He wasn't the stupid. Or was he? What was he doing here? "Just leave, Julian," he muttered to himself lowly. "You haven't stated your business yet. You haven't told the watchful nurses why you're calling. Just leave. You don't need to see him." It was wonderful advice. So why wasn't he following it?

"Was there something you needed, sir?" the receptionist asked with a wary glance in his direction.

He blinked at her for a moment, thinking of what to say. He felt her eyes take in his rumpled suit and frantic air. She probably thought he was some relation awaiting the results of a loved one's surgery. "I'm here visiting someone," he said at last, making some attempt to straighten his tie and smooth his dark blonde hair back. "S. J. Sands," he said after a long pause of consideration. It was too late to turn back now. He was committed, no matter what his reasons had been for coming.

The receptionist nodded and entered in the name to her computer, her brow furrowing as she came across it. "Mr. Sands is being held in our psychiatric ward under security, sir. Visitors aren't normally allowed."

"Alright. Sorry for bothering you. I'll be going now." The words wanted to pass his lips but didn't. He hadn't come all this way to turn around and go home no matter what some ditzy receptionist said. "Aren't normally allowed, Miss? So that means that sometimes they are allowed?" he asked sweetly, laying on the charm a little thicker than he normally would, but he figured she'd be a tough nut to crack.

"May I ask the manner of your business with Mr. Sands, Mr…"

"Manchester. Julian Manchester," Julian said with a wide smile that he knew the women drooled over. He knew that he was handsome and he had always known how to use his looks to his advantage. "I'm an old friend of Sands'. I got a call when he was picked up that maybe a familiar face would go to helping him come out of whatever mindset he's trapped in." Utter bullshit but hey it sounded good, right?

The receptionist was eating it up. "Of course, Mr. Manchester."

"Please, call me Julian," he said smoothly. This was almost a waste of his talents. "So may I visit him?"

She pretended to consider it before handing over a white pass that had 'VISITOR' clearly marked in big red letters. "You'll have to be escorted. Would you like me to—"

"Oh I'm certain you have other duties to attend to, Miss. I'm sure one of the fine armed gentlemen you have standing about will do just fine." There was no way on earth he was going to meet Sands without an armed guard at his side.

The receptionist looked disappointed, but saw reason in his statement. There was a full waiting room behind him and as a receptionist she couldn't just up and leave to personally escort a visitor whenever she wanted. After an obvious sigh she raised a radio and called for a guard to come greet him. She needn't have bothered with the radio. There were an overabundance of men just standing about attempting to look important not yards from the front desk. One of them answered his radio and waltzed over seemingly without a care in the world.

Sands must not be as dangerous as I thought if they're not worried about taking people to see him, Julian thought upon seeing the man's manner and following him back through various security doors to see his old school comrade. Had Sands been lying about the people he'd killed? No, that didn't ring true. He had seen the murder in Sands' cold eyes; heard the truth of his claims in the flat tone of his voice. Sands had killed all those he claimed to have killed, probably more. Julian was suddenly very glad that Sands had been caught. He didn't know if he would have been on Sands' hit list-he didn't exactly know how he had managed to escape the masquerade alive-but he was very glad he was now out of harm's way. Except that you're going to visit the very man you narrowly escaped last month. You're just as crazy as he is.

Julian found he couldn't really argue with such logic but it was too late to turn back now. He and his armed escort had already reached Sands' room. The guard told him to hang back while he went in first. Julian had no intention of doing otherwise. Despite his lack of rational thought in coming here, it could not be claimed that he was a stupid man. He was well educated and clever despite the occasional horrid lapse in judgement. That said, Julian couldn't help but put his head into the room and look around; his curiosity getting the better of him.

He was mildly disappointed to see that the room was nothing like the medieval torture chamber he had been hoping for. The walls aren't even padded for fuck's sake. What kind of hospital is this? Apart from the obvious hands, feet and chest restraints on the bed it looked like a completely ordinary hospital room. An empty hospital room. "I thought you said that this was Sands' room," he murmured as the guard returned, closing the door behind him.

"Oh it is. He and Ms. Drasden must be out for a walk," the guard explained with a shrug.

"A walk? They just let him get up and walk around whenever he's in the mood?" Julian asked incredulously, casting a wary eye over his shoulder as if expecting to see Sands walking up right now.

The guard laughed and shook his head. Julian wanted to strangle him. "By walk I mean he's pushed around in a wheelchair for awhile. Supposedly it's unethical to keep someone restrained to the bed indefinitely. A load of horse hooey if you ask me," he muttered under his breath. "We could go after them if you like. My guess is that they're up on the roof."

"On the roof? In this weather?" Julian repeated again, sounding a bit like the idiot the guard must take him as for questioning each thing he said.

The guard just shrugged. "Fresh air's fresh air."

Julian frowned, tightened his long wool coat a bit tighter around himself and nodded. "Let's go then."

WWW

Sands chomped down on the end of his cigarette with relish, tilting his head back a little to further insure that he wouldn't lose it to his lap. The bitch and her armed monkey wouldn't let even one of his hands loose so he could smoke so he was forced to do it the hard way. It didn't matter, really. He was so relieved to have the nicotine in his system that he would have smoked with his feet if he had to. Alas, his feet were also strapped down to the wheeled contraption they had him in. He had tested the restraints a few times going up the elevator when they hadn't been looking, but they held fast. If he was going to get out of his hellhole he was going to need help getting the restraints off.

"Are you done yet, Sands? Some of us aren't cold-blooded like you are," Lauren muttered, clutching her coat tightly around herself. It wasn't snowing-yet­-but she could practically smell the bite of frost in the air and cursed men and smoking habits everywhere.

Sands' eyes made their way to his face and he let his cigarette dangle from his bottom lip for a moment before inhaling just slow enough so that she knew he was fucking with her. She had just been about to tell him where he could stick his future smoking privileges when the door leading back down into the hospital opened and two people stumbled out to join them in the cold. She didn't recognise either of them and figured that they must be two idiots looking for a place to have a smoke like Sands was.

Julian followed the guard silently out onto the roof, telling himself that it wasn't too late to just turn around and leave. He didn't need to see Sands, he didn't even know what he was really doing here. Clearly he had not been firing on all cylinders when entertaining the notion to come to this godforsaken place. He had had ample opportunity to turn around and head back home during the trip here and he hadn't. Why? Did he need some kind of closer in seeing that Sands was indeed caught and bound and no longer a threat to anyone but himself?

"Either you're keeping my medication higher than promised, Lauren or I'm honoured with my first guest since coming to this delightful facility," Sands murmured loud enough for the entire rooftop to hear, his cigarette bouncing off of his bottom lip as he spoke.

Lauren looked over to the new people and saw that she did recognise the man who came out first as one of the guards. She didn't believe Sands was talking about him so either he was hallucinating-not an entirely impossibility given the levels of antipsychotics running through his blood and his own predisposition towards madness-or he knew the man who followed behind. "Do you know this man, Sands?" she asked a moment later when neither man spoke a word of greeting. They simply stared at each other.

"His name's Julian Manchester. We went to school together. I also ingratiated myself into his household about a month ago. He's probably come to gloat." He smirked and turned look at Julian. "A pleasure to see you again, you bastard. I'd get up to greet you but I'm a little tied up at the moment."

"Quite," Julian said softly, steeling himself and taking a step in Sands' direction. "I'd heard that you'd been caught. I suppose I had to see it for myself."

"Yeah well I'd respond to that with some sort of snide remark but I'm finding it a little difficult to stay upset at anyone given the…" he trailed off and turned to look at Lauren. "Just what is it that runs through my veins these days, darling?"

"Haldol," Lauren answered with a glare at the pet name.

"Haldol? Really? Well gosh no wonder I feel like blowing the back of my head off after supper. What fun." He turned back to Julian with a curious tilt of his head. "They're giving me Haldol, Julian. It's supposed to quell psychopathic urges. It only half works. I'm half-inclined to kill you just for the heck of it, you see. But don't fret. They keep me under restraints even when I sleep. They'll break out the straight jacket soon, just you wait." He spit his spent cigarette to the ground and sighed a thick cloud of his own breath in the cool air and cigarette smoke out like dragon's breath. "But I'm not supposed to talk like that or else this lovely lady standing before you will up my dosages to vegetable-inducing levels and let me tell you, that's a whole lot of no fun."

"How did they catch you?" Julian asked after a long moment of contemplative silence.

Sands looked thoughtful before turning to Lauren without answering him. "Let's go back inside. I think I've collected enough icicles on the tip of my nose for one day. If you really want to know, Julian, then follow as they take me back to my cell."

Julian just nodded and followed Sands and his entourage back into the building.

TBC

A/N: Well I am very very very sorry this wasn't up weeks and months sooner. Forgive me, dear friends. Thank you as always to my reviewers. You guys really make my day and keep me writing. :-D