More Than Life | By : Psnoo17 Category: M through R > Once Upon A Time In Mexico Views: 1900 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time in Mexico, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
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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 ond ond 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 nińa,’ but I get to tick Rochester 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 nito bto 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. Ash ash 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.
**************************************************
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. 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 satn inn 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, seńores?” 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.
Andwherwhere? 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 the 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 uss.uss. 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 fun 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. “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 she 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. o:p>
**************************************************
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 wetpan>pan>
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 –”
“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 respondehe che 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 answer to to what’s going on.”
**************************************************
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.
pan>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 playplayed 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 fhat?hat? 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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