Roberta settled into the old restaurant booth, thankful for the chance to take the weight off her foot. She felt embarrassed at yet another slip up. This wasn't like her, at least not in a fight. She wasn't the greatest at being a maid, she would be the first to admit it. Yet, she was supposed to be the best that F.A.R.C. had ever trained.

"It feel any better," Ethan asked as he placed the girl in another, keeping one eye looking at the door.

They had had to force open a steel shutter open to get in. There was a fairly thick layer of dust on everything, given that the place had been abandoned longer than Ethan had even been living in the city. The larger equipment was missing from the kitchen area behind the counter, meaning that the place had probably failed and gone bankrupt. That hopefully meant that there wasn't anyone else in the building with them.

She nodded in response, trying to hide the flush on her face, "Sí, perder peso ayuda bastante (Yeah, taking the weight off, helps quite a bit.) Uh, do you think that, we have anything to worry about right now?"

"I don't know. Hurgh. Man, that shutter needs a major greasing. At the least, if the Russians come by, they shouldn't pay too much attention to this place. I'm more worried about the locals. I don't think that there should be another way in here, but I can't guarantee it. I'm a mercenary, not an architect," he walked over and sat down on the other seat and picked up his AK.

Roberta watched him as he checked the chamber and magazine. She was doing her best not to stare, but she was losing that battle. She couldn't understand what it was that she was feeling for him. Why she was feeling it. She was just the Bloodhound that played nursemaid, not a woman who deserved to find someone that loved her as a woman.

She scooted further back to put her back against the wall. It had been almost thirty six hours since the attack had started. She was worried about her Young Master. She knew that Fabiola was highly capable of protecting him, and they were behind friendly lines, but she knew how much he worried about her.

"Senor Haines, though I have been here before, and caused much damage, how bad are things," she asked as she closed her eyes for a moment.

Ethan had put the rifle aside and was digging through a medical kit he had lifted off of a dead soldier earlier, "Honestly, not great. I've been in some spots before, a lot of them tried to kill me. More than I would like to admit came close. This is the worst so far, and I don't know if we really can get out it."

He pulled a rolled bandage out of the kit, and knelt down by her feet. She felt her face get a little red again, and was glad for how her skirt had been modified. She winced a little as he pulled her shoe off, and then cut away her stocking around her ankle. The skin was red and warm, but there wasn't any bruising.

"¿Hay algún analgésico en ese kit? (Are there any painkillers in that kit?) I am in a slight amount of pain ahora mismo," Roberta winced as he prodded the ankle, looking for any hidden damage that might indicate a fracture.

He looked over and picked up an orange case. He opened it and read the labels. She could almost see the gears turning in his head, like he was trying to remember what everything was.

Eventually he picked up and ampule syringe, "Promedol, not as strong as morphine, but stronger than an asprin. Are you sure you want this though, it may knock you for a bit of a loop if you don't react well to opiods ?"

She nodded. She wasn't really sure what he meant, but anything was better than having a hurting ankle. It also couldn't be as bad as nearly burning her brain to a cinder with hardcore stimulants.

The shot burned as he jabbed the needle in her calf and crushed the ampule. Then, she started feeling slight relief as the medicine started to travel through her bloodstream. He started wrapping the bandage on her leg, starting at her foot and going up, and making sure that it was just tight enough that it didn't cut off the bloodflow.

"You seem really good at this Senor Haines," she relaxed a little as the pain subsided more.

"You get that way, when you have been doing this for almost twenty years. I don't know how many sprained and twisted ankles that I have had, or people I was working with had. Russian shit gets sent every fucking where in South America, so I learned what was in those kits, I just don't care much for them. US kits are a whole lot better. They actually want you to live, Soviets didn't give a fuck. Too tight," he looked up at her face.

"No, uhhh, it's, uhh, it's fine," he was too damned handsome for this.

"Sounds like the promedol is hitting. For better or worse, we are stuck here now. Oh, they started using butterfly clips. That makes this a whole lot easier," he said as he secured the bandage, "I would get some sleep. That stuff makes me drowsy, and the body metabolizes things easier when you sleep. I'll keep watch, wake you if I need you."

She nodded as he stood and walked over to sit against the counter facing the door. She could see something in his eyes that she was having trouble understanding. It was almost like his mind was somewhere else, rather than in an abandoned restaurant waiting for the worst that could happen.

She let her eyes close after a moment. Even having gotten some sleep just a few hours earlier, was it even three hours yet? She was exhausted. This was the most intense conflict she had seen in a long time. This was more intense than when she chased Gray Fox after Master Diego's death. She had thought, that after Caxton's mercy, and his efforts to help her forgive herself, she was still just a soldier at the end of it.

She finally drifted off, and opened her eyes to a different scene.

She was in a camp, deep in the jungle. Surrounding her were people dressed in dingy clothes, and old faded fatigues. It was a F.A.R.C. encampment. Not unlike so many that she had been in during her time with them. The smells of rancid sweat, festering wounds, and rotting food washed over her, and panic started to seep into her, until she realized that she was still wearing her ruined maid uniform.

"Rosarita," a deep voice said in spanish.

She let her head snap to where the voice came from, and her eyes went wide,"Manuel?"

An old man stood there, a half crazed smile forever plastered on his face, "Si, it is good to see you. Mi niña, I cannot believe how beautiful you have grown to be."

"But, you died years ago. How are you here? Where is here," she couldn't believe it.

The old man shrugged, "Last time I checked, that had not changed. Let us just say, that the big man upstairs, decided to give you a little reward for not letting my wayward child put a bullet in the poor chica's head."

"Your, wayward child?"

"Si. You may not have realized it, but your companion, is Caleb. He... he has had a hard path that he has walked. So much of it in anger of my death. He let himself become a much worse monster than I ever could have, and yet, he gave it up. He wanted to leave it behind. He has a reason to truly do so now. I must say though, he has forgotten the proper way to treat a lady. I swear I tried to teach him better in the short time that I had him. Please forgive him," Manuel stepped over to take her in a warm hug.

Roberta's mind was working overtime. How was this possible? It had been over a decade since Manuel had passed.

"Manuel, I'm so sorry that I couldn't become a better person than I have," she melted into the hug as tears started flowing from her eyes.

"Mi niña, Caleb was right, that keeping that young girl alive is too much of a risk. You wouldn't let him kill her though. You were willing to kill him, someone who you had a reason to trust, and to protect. You did it, so that he wouldn't kill her, because you didn't think it was right. You made him reconsider, not truly with the force of rifle, but by asking if that is who he wished to be. I am proud of both of you."

She pulled back, "So, he, was the boy with the shotgun that, managed to get away that day. Isn't he?"

"Si. Sadly it took him years to finally cut his hair. I could never get him to do it. He wasn't in good shape afterward, but, our God, he chooses people to use, to help others. The man that gave you a job, and helped you hide from these bastardos, he saved Caleb's life. He took him in for several months, and helped him heal. Physically, though sadly not emotionally or spiritually. I have met him since his passing, and though it pains him what you went through, he was glad that you have truly wanted to find redemption."

"Is he here? Can I speak to him?"

Manuel's eyes went a little dark, "I am afraid that would not be up to me. I was chosen, because I was important to both of you. Mi niña, I wish, that so many things had been different. Your parents, and Diego as well. One thing we all want for you, is to live better. I don't know how to tell you to do that though. You must figure it out for yourself. You have become so beautiful, and you have found people who truly love you. Don't lose that, and don't feel you are unworthy of it."

Roberta let her gaze fall to her feet, "Manuel, how can I stay with them, when this is all that I will ever be good at? Look at me, I fell back into the Bloodhound so easily, and have only made errors because I am thinking with parts of my body that I shouldn't be."

Manuel's smile returned as he chuckled heartily, "Rosarita, there is nothing wrong with a woman at times thinking with her coño, anymore than a man thinking with his polla. It is a part of being human, and even I will admit, he is not hard to look at. Wouldn't that be a match?"

"Que?"

"Sorry, I just thought of you two somehow ending up together. I think you two would be good together. Plus, if it is of interest to you, his polla is quite impressive. From what glimpses I have gotten of him, his female friend with the red hair, she likes to make fun of him for it's size. They aren't atornillar, either," the old Mexican let a creey smile cross his face.

"Manuel, propriety," she said in mock outrage, not realizing how much she had really appreciated this crude manner.

"I'm not a pearl clutching old church lady, I'm a cold blooded killer. When this is over, I want you to give him a message for me."

"Of course."

Manuel's visage became grim, "Tell him, that it is time to let go of all the hate in his heart. That there isn't a place for it, if he wishes to avoid Hell. Tell him to leave this place, and raise his daughter. Find another woman that he can fall in love with, and grow old. I don't want him to be in this game like I was, and to suffer what turned me into a beast. He forgave his family for what they did, to send him to me. He has a place to go home to. Can you do this for me?"

"Si Manuel. I will do it for you."

"Don't do it until you are out of this. I know him, and I have seen him. If you tell him before you are safe, he will kill you and leave your corpse behind without a second thought. He is still a killer, and he doesn't tend to feel remorse for that killing. I don't want you to join me here so soon. Rather, I would like you to join me, when you have lived a good long life. I wish the others could have, but there was never a chance for them to change their paths."

Roberta looked around at the people that surrounded them, and realized that none of them had faces. They were all just mannequins, faceless statues that had never earned a place in Heavan. All except one. All except for a far off Rosarita, who kneeled next to a faceless form on a stretcher, holding it's hand, and praying for it.

"I will Manuel. How many faces should there have been here? I won't squander the same chance that they have. Manuel, I never said this while you were alive, and I should have. You earned it so many times. I was a fool. I love you, and I miss you everyday now."

The old man's face returned to that kind half crazed smile, "I love you too, Rosarita. I am so proud of you, and I hope that you help him become a man to be proud of for me."

Her eyes opened back up, and she was back in the abandoned restaurant again. The girl had woken up and was sitting up with a forlorn look on her face. Ethan was still, no he gotten back up and was sitting in a different place now. The plastered over windows had been showing slivers of light when she had gone to sleep, and now they were gone. She wondered how they could see, and then realized that there were a couple of flashlights sat up facing toward the back of the room.

"How long have I been asleep," she asked when Ethan looked over at her.

The man looked down at his watch, "Uh, about six hours. Like I said, promedol can hit like a truck. Usually makes me hallucinate. How's the ankle now. Swelling went down about an hour ago."

She looked down at the bandage on her ankle, and realized that the wrapping had been redone, "It, doesn't hurt anymore. I should be able to move."

"We can't do that right now. While you were out, a full on war started up outside. I ain't looked to see who is winning, but they are at a lull right now. Save them throwing grenades everywhere, I think we should be safe enough. She still isn't telling me her name, or really anything at the moment. Turns out, one of those skeletons, was her brother. Damn it, it would have been kinder to put a bullet in her head back there, than make her see that. I don't know what to do with her from here on," the look on his face was full of pain.

Roberta looked over to the girl again. She scotted out of her seat, and noticed there was a slight amount of pain, but not enough to make her wince. She stepped over and sat next to the shell shocked girl, and took her in a hug.

She didn't say anything, given that the girl didn't speak spanish or english. She barely remembered it, but she slightly recalled her mother saying that a hug was universal. The girl's head fell on Roberta's shoulder, and she started crying, mourning her fallen brother.

Ethan looked on. He took a deep breath and turned his gaze back to the door. He felt a little awkward watching the scene. He didn't know how to do the whole tender thing, and he was a little surprised that the Bloodhound of Florencia was capable of it. It wasn't his place to judge though. He had to worry about seeing Hannah again.

A tear ran down his cheek as he hoped that she was safe. Where the Lagoon Company was, was behind the lines, but it was hard not to worry. What if some of the Spetsnaz managed to get through the lines, and started blowing up, or burning down buildings. It was hard to focus when he didn't know where she was, and if she was safe. He didn't know how he wasn't breaking down.

A/N: I know that many have been waiting for the moment that Ethan finally finds out that Roberta is the girl who he thought killed Manuel. I hate to say that this is probably approaching the apex of the story. I don't know how long it will go on after, and I don't know how some of the planned parts of the story will hit, especially considering how much I agonized over Rock killing a man to save Ethan.

I know I have said it before, but I do appreciate everyone. I read every review I get, and I think about what they say. This wasn't my first long fic, that was a Legend of Zelda fic that only got to 26 chapters. This is the most impactful to me though. Even for me to see Ethan go from some tired mercenary, to becoming this rich character who, has gained as much legitimacy in the setting as the canon characters, even with as many people who threw hate at him. There have been times that I have considered leaving this story behind, but I always come back to it, because it has a real meaning to me.