30 minutes part II,

30 minutes, the blink of the night
30 minutes to alter our lifes
30 minutes to make up my mind
30 minutes to finally decide
30 minutes to whisper your name
30 minutes to shelter the blame
30 minutes of bliss, 30 lies
30 minutes to finally decide,

To decide,
TaTu.

Lizz POV:

She parked her car in front of a motel. Silently she opened the door and looked a bit helpless to Sands. He had been sleeping ever since.

"Sands?" She pushed some strings of his hair out of his face. He jolted, moaned and grabbed her wrist with a solid grip. She tensed but didn't pull back. "It's me." His head shifted a little and his grip eased. "Where at a motel, I think it's best to spent the night here." He didn't react, just sat up. He let her help him out the car into the motel.

She talked to the women behind the desk, keeping a eye on Sands. She didn't like it. He was just standing there next to her, breathing heavily and not seeming to understand where he was. She didn't want to think of it, but she wished the old Sands came back.

After she paid for the night she walked him to the room. "There are two beds, a telly, a bathroom on you're right and don't walk into the chairs, there against the left wall." She watched him closely while he listened to her. He didn't even nod ore made any other movement to assure her he understood her. No sight of remembering. No sight of anything.

Questioning herself what to do now she placed her bag on one of the chairs.

When she turned around Sands kneeled facing the wall. He touched the stones, feeling the material, examining it.

Her eyebrow went up as she watched it. "Sands?"

A shiver run throw his body and he sat down, mumbling something. Her stomach started to hurt. How bad was he really? She kneeled next to him and watched as he continued to examine his surroundings. Suddenly he stopped and glared at her.

"Not her."

Her eyes widened. "What?!"

His glared furious. "Don't mock me, LEAVE!" His head shot up. "All of you!" She watched him as he throw more curses to thing that weren't there, at leased for her.

"But I am real." She grabbed both his shoulders. "I am Lizz. I really am!"

"You can't be." He whispered soft. "She died."

A watery smile filled her face. "I didn't. Sure I laid in a hospital for about a month, with nothing to do, trying to wave away all there questions. I don't think they believe one thing I told, even when started to scream at me…" She paused. "Those creeps must have been from the CIA, they can be so scary as you are sometimes."

He looked at her frowning, figuring out if she told the truth ore that his mind played tricks on him again. She could only hope he would believe her. She stood up and pulled him up by his hands. "C'mon you need a bath, must have been days since the last time you took one." This time he did nod and followed her to the bathroom.

"O, wait, I got something for you." She run back and got her bag. "New clothes. Not sure about the size, but making a bigger fashion crime then you're doing now is impossible." She pushed him a pair of jeans and a green shirt in his hands. She half expected him to yell at her for not informing her what he was about to wear. But he didn't, all he did was standing there in front of her, stroking the fibber of the shirt. He mumbled something and let himself slide down by the wall. His hands reached up to the bandages and tried to rip it off. When it didn't work he hit himself in the face. "Hurts." And did it again.

"Stop that!" Lizz heard herself snap. She rushed beside hem and pulled his arm away. "Don't hit yourself!" God, why does he have to act so creepy? This isn't Sands!'

He pulled himself free and pushed her aside, for a man so thin he was still strong. "Hurts." A statement. "Hurts, never leaves." He rubbed his face and suddenly moans. "Always." Slowly so blood started to run from under the bandages.

Lizz looked horrified at him, the formal CIA agent she once fear, once hated but still cared about deeply. "You want the bandages off?" When she didn't got a response she untied the bandages and gasped. "W-what happened to you're face." Deep cuts where right under the please once his eye's had been.

His head lowered, ashamed maybe. "Couldn't cry, made me cry." A trial of blood continued to run down his cheek.

"Jesus… y-you did that yourself?!" She whispered shocked.

For a moment he didn't respond, than slowly nodded.

Her mouth dropped and tears started to swell in her eye's. "Why? Why on earth would you do that?!"

He seemed scared for her question. He placed his head against the wall looking away from her. "Everything."

"You're freaking me out you know that?" And it was true, he always had his way to freak the shit out of her, but this time it was different. Normally he would do it to get some fun out of it ore to irritate her. But this time he didn't even seem to notes her, as in person. Like there was al wall between them.

Again he didn't react on her. "Hurts inside. Hurts bad."

She swallowed and stared at him. She didn't know what to say ore what to do. Could it be to late? She never thought about that, it never occurred to her that he could fall of the edge. She never wanted to think about that. He just couldn't lose his mind. For once in her life could someone stay for real? She missed his cocky remarks, his annoying way of talking even him cursing while she did something he didn't approve. Kind of strange to miss that all but she really did. She looked at him, nothing more than a broken figure, bleeding and smelling badly. How could she get through to him if he didn't even believe she was real?

She shivered and wrapped her arms around her knees. 'Had it been a good idea to get him out of that Centrum?' First it sounded as the first thing to do. But now, she started to doubt her rescue action. "You know I always liked your first name."

He didn't said anything but looked up.

"Sheldon. Sounds kinda old but it got something, old British name ore something?" She paused for a moment and hoped for a reaction, when he didn't she continued. "Why is it just Sands? I can't remember a time someone called you Sheldon, ore Jeffery, ore something like that. Kay, not like someone calls me by my whole first name but at leased they call me Lizz. Off course Smith doesn't sound as cool as Sands." Again she looked at him, this time it was clear he was listening to her. She smiled a bit. "Not like I'm that cool ore anything, I'm more that nervous-hoping-everythings-ganna-be-find typ of person. And I guess it's true, I do talk to much. But you know it's because I hate silent, it's because all the bad things happened when it's silent. When people don't talk they'll get hurt ore worse. Saw it with my dad and mom, I hate it when people don't talk. So when it gets so silence I'll do the talking doesn't' matter where it's about." Damn I suck at this, what more can I say?

She went silent for a while, nervously playing with her bracelet. 'C'mon say something, stop starring at me like this, call me names, yell some shit anything!' Finally she broke the silent. "You need to get a bath." She decided standing up and she filled the bath.

Looking down on the man she asked herself if it was safe to pull him up.

"Can you stand up?"

No reaction.

She sighted. "Can you, please, stand up?"

Again, no reaction.

'Fuck this.' She bow forwards and touched his wrist. For a moment he winched back but nothing more. Carefully watching him closely she placed her hand around his wrist. "Get up Sands."

It took him a moment but he replied and pushed himself up.

'Kay, now he is standing. That's something right?'

When he didn't react to any of her orders she sighted and unbuttoned his shirt. "Sands would kick my ass right now."

Sands POV:

For the first time in weeks he felt clean again. His hair was still wet but at leased not that sticky and smelly anymore. He like it this way, it had felt good to feel the hot water clean his body as well as his mind. Still he had felt some kind of fear, partly because of his fear for water. There where still old memories in his head, lingering to reach the surface. And was she still around? He wasn't sure, not even sure if she was real.

Right now he didn't really care and played with the soft material that felt good against his chest. 'A bed. Nice to sleep on a bed.' Not like there wasn't a bed in his former room, but he never slept on that. It didn't feel good, he felt lost. Mostly he slept against a wall so he knew where he was. Right now he didn't want to know where he was, all he knew was he was safe. And it was silent in his head.

Someone near him said something but the words where to far. Was it still her, girly was she real? Ore was it that doctor that must have hate him for giving him so much drugs. One day he would hurt that bitch, but not now. Everything was fin now, quite and peaceful. Right now he didn't have to think of everything bad he had done, right now he could rest.

Some weight shifted on the other end of the bed, she sat next to him. He wondered what she was doing. Was she watching him? Did she pay attention to him? He wanted to know what she was doing, for all he know she could be about to drug him.

To be sure where she was up to he stretches his arm slowly not to be noticed and felt around for hers. She tensed when he touched her hand but didn't pull back. Good, she wasn't getting ready to drug him, very good. For a moment he kept his hand on hers. The warmth of hers made him relax. It was nice to touch again, made him feel a bit more in the real world. Was she real?

His hand slide to her wrist and found a bracelet with small beads on it. He toyed with them, letting them slide throw his fingers. The breads where smooth and cold in his hand. There was some shifting on his right and he was fully aware she was looking at him.

'Please don't drug me for doing this.' He looked up and hoped she would leave at the sight of his face, just no drugs ore needles. He let go of the bracelet and pulled his hand back against his chest. Maybe if he kept silent she would leave him be.

Again she moved on the bed and he was almost sure she was laying.

"Jesus what they must have done to you Sands…" Her voices trailed off and she sounded sad. "Why couldn't I get there sooner, maybe you would have been yourself." Yes, she sounded defiantly sad. Her hand stroke his cheek. "You look so far away, and how could you do that to yourself, those cuts are so deep."

'Wasn't so hard, needed to been done, needed to bleed.' He liked her touch. 'I don't think you will understand, you're to good to understand.' In fact he didn't think any other person would understand.

"Tomorrow where going home, I really hope you like it there and get back you're normal freaky self. Don't think I will ever repeat this again, but I've really missed you Sands."

Her words sounded nice, too nice.

"Sorry." He said, more like a grunt than exactly a word.

A moment of silence he felt her sit op. "What did you say?" She asked surprised.

"I'm sorry." He repeated, harder this time. "I'm sorry… for everything." He grabbed both of her hands and squished them tight. Her bracelet jingled as he sat up. "I'm sorry for everything I've done. I've killed, destroyed, broken… so much…" That words… scared him senseless, because he really meant them. He had done so many horrible things, normal people wouldn't sleep over at night. He always had tried to put al those things away, safely in the back of his mind. But that barrier got broken piece by piece and now it was open and it felt like war in his head.

"I hurt people so much… all those things, I killed so many, left so many to die…" memories from his formal work started to appear. Laughing he had looked at a guy that got beat senseless because of the rumours he had spilled. He always found a way to get what he wanted without getting his hands dirty. Once even made a wife kill her own husband because the guy didn't want to give in to his proposal.

"I'm sorry." He said again and lowered his head. "Need to bleed, to pay."

It got silence after that. Maybe he scared her, she must look frightened now, ore shocked. He wished he could know, wished for something secure.

Than she started to speak. Said kind things about him, that he wasn't that bad, that he wasn't a uncaring bastard, nor a heartless killer. And somehow he wanted to believe her words, wanted to be better than what he claimed to be. Fuck her, why did she had to take his safety away? Everything he always was so sure about she broke. From the first time he met her she started to break his safety, his control piece for piece. A part of him wanted to hate her for making him feel slight different than that sarcastic sick son of a bitch. Another part was relieved to know he could be something better in someone's eye's.

He remembered a class in the CIA, one of his first. A cranky old man he hated from the moment he saw him, told them: To restore a man you have to break him first. In class he sneered at the man for telling that dumbshit excuse to torture. Now it remarkably made some sense. Far, far away he thought he could be better than this.

Next to him she started to hum a song, cheery and a bit irritation, but not annoying enough to snap at. But one day he had to tell her that if there was a fancy sissychurch, Ricky would be the priest. Yes, one day he would defiantly tell her that…

He started to feel death tired, been long since the last time he wanted to fall asleep. Slowly he gave into the sleep and for the first time in months hoping that in the morning he still would be there.

Yes, I think this was it… Means I finished 30 minuts and LLVL totally. Still I'm thinking of writhing a sequel, but after NaNoWriMo.

Please mail what you think of it, means very very much to me as a writher that didn't got more than a C for her English test.

Luvzzz and thanks for reading, Sue-AnneSparrow