FanFic: The Long Way Home

[BunnyLuvsit]

The Long Way Home

By

E. S. Young

Chapter One: Twisted Sister


Part I


Lynné was bored, not to mention impatient. Though the former was the only thing that showed as she absentmindedly drummed her fingers on the table. The table in that stupid little restaurant where he was suppose to meet her and now he was . . . seventeen . . . nearly eighteen minutes late. And that pervert at the bar counter was checking her out. Lynné rolled her eyes.

Yeah, as if you’d ever have a chance with ME, buddy.

Fed up, she gave into her thoughts and glanced around the room. Perhaps he had walked in and was attempting to sneak up on her just to get a laugh. But no. Sands knew she wasn’t easily startled, so he wouldn’t try anything. Besides, their meeting was to have been serious. Strictly business.

Not if he brings that pregnant dog with him, Lynné thought sourly as she took a sip of her strawberry daiquiri. God, why was he even seeing her? Ajedrez was an all-around pain in the ass that thought she was something, and Sands hated people like that. Maybe he thought he could get something from her.

That could be taken many ways, some very suggestive.

She scowled down at the wooden table before her. Where did she get ideas like that? Well, giving whom she had grown up with, it wasn’t a surprise.

Lynné was about to turn around in time to see the same man at the bar give her a sleazy wink. Resisting the urge to flip him off, she distracted herself by fishing the strawberry out of her drink.

These things are harder to get out than you’d think . . .

Three minutes later, she was just about to leave when she heard gunfire sound in the streets outside. Lynné instantly realized why Sands had not shown up. Instinctively her hand went to the gun strapped to her hip, though anyone would think she was just getting out her wallet. She quickly hailed a waitress and once her check was brought, she paid her bill and left, almost forgetting the sleaze at the bar. Said man was not about to let her go as easily as she would have wanted.

“¿Dónde está usted lejos a en tal apuro, la miel ?” he asked. (Where are you off to in such a hurry, honey?) And he grabbed Lynné by the shoulders as she walked out the entrance of the restaurant.

“If I pay you, will you go away?” she sighed, not understanding a word he said, but getting the idea that he thought he could score. Fat chance.

“¿Qué?” (What?)

Letting her disgust show, Lynné reached into the pocket of the black, lightweight blazer she was wearing and pulled out a large sum of money and held it out to him. “Comprendes?"

The man grinned and reached for the cash, but Lynne stopped him abruptly.

“Leave – me –alone.” She motioned for him to get lost. The man may not have understood English, but he got the hint. Throwing another sleazy grin her way, the man took the money and was gone.

“Well,” Lynné muttered under her breath once the man was out of sight, “there went one I didn’t have to kill.”<br>
And with that, she took out her gun, and headed off down the street and towards the gunshots.

~*~

Remember, this is only the first part of the first chapter. Like I said, I can't post the entire chapter at once because it's too long, so bear with me on this, don't get confused, and review! Thanks!

[BunnyLuvsit]

Part II

~*~

Huh. I got off better than I thought I would.

It was around noontime in Mexico and the fight was starting to die down. The Day of the Dead, El Día de los Muertos, had not contained the type of excitement it had last year. Last year it had just been a big celebration for the citizens of Mexico, but this year . . . all hell had broken loose. And Lynné had been there to witness it. So what if she had shortened a few lives, big deal. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t done it before. ‘Restoring the balance.’ That was what Sands called it. And speaking of which . . .

Where the hell is that bastard, anyway? she thought, remembering that she had yet to see him since early that morning. At first she was just annoyed, annoyed that he had kept her waiting. No long since had that feeling been replaced with worry. Hastily brushing a strand of long, dark brown hair from her face, she scanned the streets for something, anything familiar. Then, she saw something.

There. Lying in the dusty street, just a few feet ahead of her, was a figure.

Ajedrez.

Lynné’s eyes narrowed from behind her rap-around sunglasses when she saw the woman, who was obviously in pain. A lot of it, from the looks of things. With no trace of sympathy, Lynné walked over to the prone woman lying on the road, intent on at least figuring out what had happened to her, only to be met with an insult.

“Usted ramera.” (You b*tch.)

“English, if you don’t mind,” Lynné requested calmly, “I’m in no mood today.”<br>
“Then go away,” hissed Ajedrez through clenched teeth.

“What happened to you?” asked Lynné, ignoring what the woman had said.

“Ask your bastard brother, he'll tell you.” She smiled cruelly. “If he’s still in the condition to, that is.”<br>
If looks could kill, this woman would have been dead on the spot. However, she was probably going to be in a few minutes, anyway, so Lynné didn’t want to waste her time arguing.

“You know where he is, and you are going to tell me, or I'll start to refuse the generous feelings my supposed 'conscience' is emitting.”<br>
“What are you saying?” Ajedrez turned her head to look up at Lynne’s looming figure.

“I'm saying . . . .” drawled Lynné, “that I considered killing you quickly and painlessly once you had given me the information I wanted, but you had to go and try my patience.” She shook her head in dismay, laughing lightly. “And, lemme tell ya, that wasn’t the smartest move on your part. I take it you're just about immobile right now, yes?”<br>
“Bite me,” she spat bitterly.

Lynné smiled slightly. “I’d say . . . yes. And . . . that doesn't go very well with fire ants. The things'll eat right through your flesh, if the sun doesn't fry your brain first.”<br>
She saw Ajedrez’s eyes widen at these words as the woman realized there was an entire civilization of the bugs crawling out of the ground right beside her. Lynné’s smile widened at this. Good, maybe now she’d get somewhere.

“So,” she continued coolly, “Either tell me where my brother is, because I know you know, and I'll off you right here, or refuse and let yourself become a human buffet. The choice is yours, dear.”<br>
“Go to hell...” Ajedrez gasped through the pain.

“Last chance,” warned Lynné calmly, “Where is he?”<br>
At thought seemed to strike Ajedrez as these words left Lynné’s lips. Her eyes lit up for a moment before she said:

“Oh . . . you'll be . . . seeing him soon enough, though . . .” She paused. “. . . I can't say the same for him.” She had the nerve to laugh at what she said. Or rather, she tried to but it came out sort of choked. Still, this woman had done something to someone she cared about, and Lynné knew it. Not bothering to hide her anger, Lynné swung her leg, and kicked Ajedrez right in the gun wound going through her abdomen. The gasping laughter abruptly stopped, Ajedrez’s eyes widened once again before she passed out entirely.

Wrinkling her nose at her as if she were a nasty bug and not a person, Lynné stalked off and left Ajedrez’s lifeless body where she had found it.

“Scuffed my shoe, the b*tch . . .”<br>

~*~

[BunnyLuvsit]

Part III

~*~

It wasn’t hard to find Sands. Just follow the bloody, dirt road, Lynné had thought with a small amount of amusement. But that all vanished the moment she saw him. Leaning aganst one of the many buildings in the area, in his all black attire, dark hair, and blood trickling down his face, Sands looked nothing short of a creature from a horror movie. But he was her brother and, foreboding as he looked, Lynné began her silent walk towards him.

There was a kid standing next to him. Why, Lynné could only guess, but this was Sands, after all.

“¿Señor, usted es bien?” Lynné heard the little boy ask she made her way towards them.

She could barley hear Sands’ answer:

“Yo no sé . . .” (I don’t know . . .)

The kid seemed strangely optimistic for the situation he was in, Lynné noted, for he confidently informed Sands that everything would be all right. Lynné wasn’t so certain. Optimism had never been her strong point. Hell, she wasn’t even content with herself. She counted three wounds, made by guns, obviously. And there was also the matter of the large amount of blood pouring down his face.

nuts. Don’t let this be what I think it is . . .’ she thought wildly, ‘Don’t let me be right . . . I am f*cking SICK of being right . . .

“Señorita?” the little boy asked once Lynne had reached them, “Quién es usted?” (Who are you?)

Sands already had his gun out. Lynné put her hands on her hips and scowled at him.

“Put that away. It’s only me.”<br>
Her voice was calm, bored, even. Her thoughts, however, were frantic.

Why the hell wouldn’t he know it was me . . . unless . . . Lynné looked up at her brother’s face again. d*mn those sunglasses . . . she couldn’t tell.

“Lynné?” Sands wondered aloud, turning his head towards her. “What’re you doing here?”<br>
“Making sure this godforsaken country isn’t taken over by pot selling hippies,” she replied.

“The cartel, Lyn,” corrected Sands. “Hippies aren’t the type to take control of things. Especially not in Mexico.”<br>
“Riiight, my mistake.” She turned to the kid, having forgotten he was even there. “Uh, gracias,” she said uncertainly. Spanish had never been her strongest subject in school. That’s why she had taken French. Hoping the kid understood English, she continued, “For . . . whatever you did . . . . He’ll be all right now.”<br>
“You sure about that, Lyn?” Sands asked, looking at her questioningly.

“Shut up,” was her ‘brilliant’ response. She was in no mood to think up sharp-tongued remarks at the moment.

The little boy seemed to have understood her, because he got back onto the bike he had with him and rode off. Lynné sighed and turned back to Sands.

“So, did you get anyone?” he asked.

She shrugged. “Just some random cartel members. No one important. You?”<br>
“Same as you, and –"

“Ajedrez?” she finished unnecessarily. “Yeah, I figured that. She wasn’t dead when I saw her, but by now she will have been long gone. I told you she was untrustworthy.”<br>
“No you didn’t,” Sands informed her.

“Yeah? Well, I meant to. You wouldn’t have listened to me anyway.”<br>
Sighing again, she realized just how much of that she had been doing. It seemed like she had been sighing more and more ever since she had come to Mexico three years ago. And the sighs had increased ever since she found out she had been burned. Burned by the CIA, the people who had sent her to Mexico when she didn’t speak a word of Spanish. Yeah, that had really restored her faith in the government. She pulled out her cell phone. Sands heard her.

“What are you doing?”<br>
“Getting a ride,” she replied, dialing, “We can’t stay here. They’ll be after us.”<br>
“The cartel,” said Sands.

“Or the Central Idiocy of America,” suggested Lynné. “More than likely, both.”<br>
“I can’t believe you’re saying I shouldn’t have trusted Ajedrez,” Sands said after Lynné had finished phoning her partner, “when you trust someone like Liam.”<br>
“He owes me too many times to turn against me now. Besides . . . I trust you, don’t I?”<br>
He flipped her off.

“Sands . . .” Lynné sighed, “. . . what happened to you?”<br>
“I got on the wrong side of the Barillo cartel members, they shot me a few times, the end.”<br>
“You never get shot.” He knew she was looking straight at him. “What happened?”<br>
Sands paused, considering. She was only twenty-seven, but about to become twenty-eight. However, she was still young, could still be corrupted. But she was his sister, so there was a good chance that she already was.

“I saw too much,” he answered simply.

“Oh,” she replied faintly, “I see.”<br>
“Yeah, funny thing . . . I don’t.”<br>
Another pause.

Lynné had a retort, but it seemed wrong to say it, even for her. Instead she did something Sands wouldn’t expect from anyone else but her.

“Let me see how bad it is,” she commanded gently.

“No,” he replied shortly, “Not here.”<br>
“I’ll have to take a look some time, it may as well be now.”<br>
“Fine,” Sands said after a moment in a ‘you’re-gonna-get-what-you- paid-for’ kind of tone. “Just . . promise me you won’t scream, freak out, or loose your mind entirely.”<br>
“Sands . . .” Lynné shook her head. “I’ve never promise anything, I don't scream, and I've long since given up searching for my mind.”<br>
Her brother smirked without amusement and removed the glasses from his face. All that showed where his eyes had once been were a pair of dark cavities and dried blood. Blood which stood out even more now that he had removed his sunglasses. Perhaps it was just the fact that something usually seen on the human face was gone, or perhaps it was the massive loss of blood, but Sands looked incredibly gaunt. And, for the first time, Lynné noticed how pale he was. Sh*t.

She couldn’t ask the question, ‘why did her brother, of all people, have to deserve this?’ because he did. He had it coming. Hell, so did she. Maybe not this particular form of butchery but, still . . . they both deserved it. But Sands was the kind of person who would . . . she couldn’t think of how to finish that thought. Sure, Sands had killed a lot of people, criminals and innocents alike, but it just didn’t seem right. It was so sudden. He wasn’t one to get caught, and if ever he did, he could talk or shoot his way out of it. That’s the way it had always been. Except for now. For once he had let his guard down, he had gotten too far in and this had been the result.

‘I saw too much.’ The words echoed in her head. That was one of the main rules in the CIA. It was the most important of the CIA's Commandments: The Eleventh. ‘Thou shalt not get caught.’<br>
She felt horrible, possibly terrified. Something like this had never happened, and she had never thought it would. If she felt like this, Sands couldn’t have felt any better. And on top of that, he had had his eyes drilled out and gotten shot three times. Apparently, she wasn’t the only one having a bad day.

“Ajedrez made some sort of comment about 'seeing you' when I last saw her,” Lynné told him once he had put his sunglasses back on. “I had hoped I'd been wrong in thinking it had something to do with . . . your eyes . . . . F*ck . . . I hate it when I'm right . . .”<br>
“That makes two of us,” Sands replied tiredly.

“Sands . . .” she began but changed her words, “You’re gonna hate me for this, but . . .”<br>
He didn’t even hear Lynné move forward. She was always quiet whenever she walked or even ran. All he knew was that she wasn’t a horrible as everyone, including Lynné herself, made her out to be. Sands was a bit surprised when he felt his sister put her arms around his torso and rested her head against his chest.

This wasn’t right. Lynné was a cold, distant person with no emotions outside hate, humor, and the occasional distress. She must be really out of it to do something like this. Especially to him.

Slowly, shakily from loss of blood, Sands managed to put his uninjured arm around her shoulders, unsure of what else to do.

~*~

Aaaand . . . that would be then end. Of chapter one, that is. So, whaddaya think of it so far? Good? Bad? Awful? Let me know! . . . but be nice -- please ^.^

[Terra]

I love it!!! Can't wait for other chapters!

[BunnyLuvsit]

Thank you! I'm gonna try and get a chapter up each day. Thanks again. ^.^

[BunnyLuvsit]

Part I



Chapter Two: Arrival at Casa de Lynné<br>


I suppose I should mention at this point that Sands’ lovely sister’s name is pronounced ‘Lin-ae’ which explains the little mark above the ‘e’ in her name. I forget what you call that; I know what it’s called in French but I don’t know the English translation. o.o;; This also explains why Lynné is better at speaking the language of love than she is at Spanish, as you will soon see in chapters to come. By the way, and Spanish that is spoken is this story has been translated from English on a website I found. If anyone notices anything wrong, I’d be happy to know so I can correct it. Those sites aren’t always accurate (never use them to do you homework for whatever language you’re taking, trust me -.-'). Thanks much. ^.^

~*~

Blood. That was all Liam saw when he slowed his car to a stop and rolled down the window. Blood, some dry, some in the process of doing so, ran down Sands’ legs and one of his arms. It was hardly noticeable because he was wearing black – a stupid thing to do, really, because it was so hot out – but it was still there. And it didn’t look like it was stopping any time soon. The fluids on his fellow agent’s clothing may have been hard to distinguish, but the blood on his face wasn’t. Streaming down from behind his sunglasses, the vast amount of blood made Liam wonder why Sands was still there; still standing.

And there, standing beside him, was the young woman who could be no one else but his sister. The resemblance was remarkable, even when a red mask of gore covered Sands’ face. She looked strangely calm for a girl whose brother was obviously badly injured, and this worried Liam. It would have been better if she had been wringing her hands in panic, biting her nails until they bled, or wrapping a single strand of hair around her finger so tightly that she ripped it right out of her scalp. But no. There Lynné stood, her arms crossed over her chest, talking calmly to the man she should have been in a panic over. When Liam pulled up, she turned from Sands and smirked at him.

“Close your mouth, sugar, before a bug flies in and you choke.”<br>
Liam, realizing he had been gaping at the two, quickly stopped. Sands, who realized it was just Liam who had pulled up in the car, lowered his gun. And Lynné shook her head at the both of them.

“Okay, you’re gonna have to use me as a crutch, so . . .” She trailed off as Sands placed his good arm around her shoulders. She in turn slipped her arm around his waist and led him around to the car. Liam, upon sensing that Lynné intended to have Sands lay down in the back seat, stepped out of his car and opened the back door.

Lynné slid in across the back seat of the car. She noticed that, as he gingerly made his way into the vehicle, Sands was groping around for something. Possibly just trying to feel his way around the interior, but she knew she would be mistaken in thinking so. Cautiously, she held out her hand for him to take.

When his hand brushed hers, Sands shoved it away, as Lynné had expected him to do. It was worth a try, but, d*mnit, she hated being right . . . It was a useful gift she had had since before she could remember, but other times it also proved to be a burden. Being a highly intuitive person, Lynné could predict the move of practically everyone she met. She was never unsure of something, was never wrong. And once again, she was right when she wished she hadn’t been.

Suddenly, she was brought abruptly from her thoughts when she felt an odd pressure on her legs. Looking down, she saw that Sands had decided to rest his head on her lap.

Man, he must be out of it to do something like this . . .

“What are you doing?” she asked aloud.

Sands turned his head to the sound of her voice. She didn’t sound angry or annoyed, just curious, a little concerned, and perhaps slightly surprised. Good, Sands had always liked shocking people, and getting to Lyn wasn’t something that happened very often. He decided to be honest with her, wanted to see – Not literally, of course, he thought bitterly – her reaction.

“It’s more than likely that I’m going to pass out within ten minutes of this car ride, whether it be the loss of blood or simply the fact that I always doze off in cars,” he explained casually, “In any case, I’d just like to be comfortable.”<br>
“So now I’m comfortable?” It wasn’t a question. “Funny, if I recall correctly, you always said I was bony.”<br>
“Who the hell else am I gonna use? Liam?”<br>
Lynné glanced up and caught the look in Liam’s eye as he slid into the driver’s seat of the vehicle and heard her brother’s comment. Trying not to laugh at the look the easily freaked out man gave her, she returned her gaze to Sands and replied:

“If that’s the way you wanna be, then I suppose I have no choice. I can’t really say no, can I?”<br>
“Not unless you want to hurt my easily injured feelings.”<br>
“Normally, I’d take the risk, but seeing as we’re in a hurry –“Lynné looked back up at Liam and motioned for him to get going “— I think I’ll pass.”<br>

~*~

[BunnyLuvsit]

Part II

~*~

The ride to his sister’s place took longer than it should have, mostly because Liam, being the annoyingly cautious person that he was, saw fit to make hairpin turns and change direction every five minutes, but Sands endured it. He thought he had even managed to catch some sleep; he vaguely remembered hearing Lynné saying:

“Sands . . . . you have to stay awake.”<br>
He remembered flipping her off and hearing a frustrated sigh next.

“I know you don’t want to, but you have to stay conscious,” she said to him.

“At least until we get to casa de Lynné,” Liam added.

“Eyes on the road, mister,” warned Lynné, her dark eyes narrowing maliciously. It was good that the kid was trying to be helpful but they really didn’t need a car crash at the moment. She had left her AAA card at home.

And ID, the police’d need that, too. Not like I ever carry any –

Her thoughts were cut off once again by a sharp gasp from Sands. While she had been thinking he had apparently attempted to sit up and say something smart to Liam. Unfortunately, his bullet wounds had protested.

“d*mnit,” Lynné cursed, “if you don’t keep still you’re going to make those worse and since I'm the one stuck with the job of tending to them, I’d rather keep the problem as minimal as possible.”<br>
“Yeah, yeah.” God, Lyn was a b*tch when she was worried. No, that wasn’t right. Yeah, she was worried but she was trying (and succeeding) to be as calm as possible. She wanted to be in control, and Lynné almost always got what she wanted. He had to give the girl credit; any other woman he knew would be crying their eyes out and telling him how sorry they felt for him, giving him endless amounts of pity, which was the last thing he wanted right now. That and a seat belt digging into his back. He could do without that, too.

She had always been like that, though. Ever since they were kids, Lyn had kept a cool head in a distressing situation. Whenever a friend or relation was hurt (whether it be mentally or physically), she was willing to help out if she was needed, but they would never get any pity out of her. Sands knew he could count on that later that night when she was sewing him back together.

Soon, when he couldn’t distinguish his thoughts from reality, Sands knew he was blacking out again.

That’s a rather interesting thing to say, considering your condition.

There went that annoying voice in his head that was always there to contradict every choice he made. Everybody had a voice like that; his was just particularly loud at the moment . . . and a real a**hole.

You expected nothing less of the supposed ‘conscience’ of YOUR being? the voice wondered with mock innocence.

Shut the hell up, I don’t need this right now.

Y’know . . . talking back to the voice inside your head is one of the first signs of madness.

Really? he mused silently. And here I was thinking I had already lost it.

Next step is talking out loud, his thoughts continued, ignoring his comment. Probably won't be long 'til that happens.

F*ck off, Sands thought tensely.

~*~

[BunnyLuvsit]

Part III

~*~

“No . . . . d*mn that pregnant dog . . . God, no . . .”<br>
Lynné bit her lip as her brother continued to mutter in his sleep. She wasn’t sure whether she should wake him up or not. While she was in training they had always taught her that when a person was injured, it was best to keep them conscious in case the worst should happen. Liam looked at her in the rearview mirror.

“Shouldn’t you –" he started.

“I don’t know,” she answered truthfully, “I do know that he’s exhausted and needs sleep and it’s not likely that he’ll be able to get any once I start fixing him up.”<br>
“Couldn’t you . . . knock him out or something? Give him some numbing drug?” Liam ventured.

Lynné sighed at him and shook her head.

“You should know by now that even if I offered him Novocaine he’d refuse. Doesn’t want to be more hopped up on drugs than he already is.

“Besides,” she continued, “I’m not sure if it’s safe to give him anything anyway because I don’t know what kind of effect it’ll have on the stuff the cartel gave him.”<br>
She saw Liam look momentarily concerned before turning his concentration back on the road. He knew that mixing some medical drugs could produce nasty effects: Comas, organ failure, death. Those bastard cartel members wanted to make sure that, even if they let someone they had tortured go, if said person went to seek medical attention, they would most likely never live to identify whoever had done them harm. He knew several people who had died that way.

Liam blinked his clear blue eyes several times and gave himself a mental shake and pushed the depressing thoughts to their proper place: The back of his mind. He was too sensitive to be a CIA agent, as Lynné so often commented. Speaking of the young lady . . . Liam stole another glance at his partner in the rearview mirror. Luckily, she didn’t notice, for he doubted she would have liked being caught absentmindedly brushing Sands’ hair out of his face. Scratch that. Lynné wouldn’t have wanted anyone to know that she was capable of being soothing, caring, loving.

He smiled slightly, despite the situation they were all in. That was why he had stayed with Lynné, even after she was burned and he wasn’t. Although she had a icy, unbreakable gaze and an exterior to match, he had tolerated her, put up with her threats and smart-assed remarks. Liam was the kind of guy who, sappy as it may sound, believe that everyone had their own inner-good person. Whether or not his partner was one to show it very often, he knew she had it in her, somewhere . . .

~*~

Finally, Liam pulled the car around the back of Lynné’s house. Not a moment too soon, either. The drugs the cartel had given Sands were powerful, but they were beginning to wear off. Lynné could already see that pain had started to nip at his body. If the fact that Sands was clenching his teeth together, fighting the instinctive urge to scream, the way he was breathing was enough evidence. Harsh and shallow, Sands breathing became quicker as his sister and Liam attempted to help him into the house. He wanted to refuse just to prove to them he was not helpless, but he knew it would be stupid to do so. That and the fact that Lyn would kick his ass if he even tried to walk on his own. d*mn her for spending two years in med. school.

The journey inside the house wasn’t too terrible. Sure, it hurt like hell, but it was nothing compared to the stairs. It was just his luck that his sister had decided to take up residence in a three-story house, and that the room he had been residing in while on his mission happened to be on the second floor. Every step he took sent bolts of agony through his legs. He wondered how long it would be before he was willing to beg Lynné to put a bullet through his head just to make the pain stop.

She wouldn't do it, he thought absently.

“Careful . . . there’re about six steps left,” Lyn was saying.

I wouldn't put it past her, his annoying subconscious warned.

“Just five more steps.”<br>
No, she wouldn't kill me, no matter what I did.

“. . . four steps . . .”<br>
Ohhh . . . I dunno, his mind mused thoughtfully, I'm sure if you threatened her life a bit . . .

“. . . . . only three left . . .”<br>
. . . or begged hard enough. If you managed to cry a bit, that would help too . . .

“Two . . .”<br>
Just as long as you make her think you're in enough PAIN, then Lynnie'll get all hysterical and weepy and kill you.

F*ck off. She won't and I know that --

Yeah, butI don't. And I am part of you, after all.

“One.”<br>
It’s a good thing Lyn had given his guns to Liam whenever he had passed out in the car, or else Sands was sure he would have shot himself right then and there just to make the voice shut up.

~*~

Blah, I wanted this to be longer but, alas, time is never on my side anymore and if I hadn’t decided to split this into two chapters instead of ONE, this update would’ve most likely been postponed until sometime next week. So, I guess a short chapter is better than no chapter at all, right?

[BunnyLuvsit]

Part I




Chapter Three: A Hard Day’s Night



Argh . . . sorry this post is so late . . . my computer decided to be evil and refused to allow me access to the Internet, then it up and DIED so here I am, typing up the third chapter (again) on my new one. 9.9; Welcome to the age of technology, ladies and gentlemen.

Erm, anyway, what is it with me and naming chapters (not to mention stories themselves) after songs/bands? This particular chapter is named after a popular Beatles song, one that I find relates to this chapter in particular because most of the characters in said chapter haven’t been having the best day of their lives . . . and night isn’t looking any better.

~*~

“Y’know . . . for an impassive, you’re really quite gentle.”<br>
His sister shrugged, or at least Sands assumed she did. One without eyes can never tell.

“Med. School will do that to you. So will studying the human psyche.” Lynné pursed her lips as she managed (on the fifth try, too) to slip a length of catgut through a needle. She had always been bad at sewing, whether it was a piece of material she was stitching up or a human being, but Sands didn’t need to know that.

On the other hand, she had excelled in all the other medical courses she had taken in college. She knew that it was best to have Sands sitting up in bed rather than laying down. She knew that she had to carefully wash away the liberal amounts of blood that had dried before she had her brother remove his shirt and pants (thank God he was wearing boxers that day). She also knew to flush out the holes the bullets had made before she started her work on them. And she even knew to wear latex gloves while doing all of this. But wasn’t all of that common sense?

Lynné shook the pessimistic thought away. She probably could have been a doctor if she had really wanted to. But she had her reasons for discontinuing her medical studies.

“Speaking of med. school,” Sands began, his words coming out somewhat short as Lynné stabbed her needle into his arm.

“Mmm?”<br>
“First, take the pins out of your mouth, second, I seem to recall that you dropped out.” He thingyed his head to the right, trying to ignore the little shots of pain the needle was giving him along with the sudden reels of agony that came with the other four wounds he was sporting. He knew the drugs weren’t going to last forever. “Why?”<br>
“Why don’t you tell me?” It was a rhetorical question. “I’m too gentle, remember?”<br>
“Sands bit down hard as another wave of pain crashed over him. “And that bothered you?” he asked, panting slightly.

When Lyn answered, he pictured another shrug to go with it.

“Start getting to soft, people will walk allllll over you. Let your guard down, and they’ll use you. Get to close to someone, and you just might be as good as dead.”<br>
Lynné forced herself to become engrossed in her sewing, pretending not to notice as Sands’ hand clenched into a fist on top of the bed sheets. She had gotten to him with ease. What the hell was wrong with her? It was more than likely Sands was already tearing himself up inside over how foolish he had been, how stupid he had been to actually trust someone. He didn’t need anymore help; he was probably doing a good enough job on himself . . . God, was she really that cruel? Of course she was, no nuts, Sherlock. But that was what she did best, wasn’t it? She got into people’s heads and pissed them off.

Gee . . . helluva accomplishment there, girl.

Riiiing . . . riiiing . . . riiiing . . .

Sands and Lyn both looked for the source of the light, jingling tone, and found it was coming from the dresser where Lyn had distractedly laid Sands now blood drenched clothing. While he couldn’t see it, the sound was all too familiar not to know. The phone. nuts.

“Lyn – don’t – get – that,” he commanded quietly, reaching his good arm out to grab her shoulder.

“Sands, don’t be rude,” Lyn scolded sarcastically, rising from her position on the bed before he could put a hand on her. “If someone feels the need to give us a ring, I feel it’s only fair to answer their call.”<br>
If Sands had had eyes, they would have widened incredulously. Admittedly when Barillo’s men had first carried out their grisly duty he had tried to call the CIA; by that time he was desperately in need of help. But that was only because he was so hopped up on the cartel’s drugs; he hadn’t been thinking of the consequences at the time. If he had managed to contact the CIA, they would have swooped down on him and before he knew it, he would be clad in a straight jacket in some mental institution in Washington D. C. Let’s face it, while he was one of the agency’s best, they didn’t exactly care for his . . . unique way of handling things, and they only knew about a quarter of the crimes he committed in order to get what he wanted. He knew full well that they were constantly looking for a reason to ‘let him go,’ and the fact that he was now useless to them would be just the excuse they were looking for. He couldn’t let that happen, death would be better.

“Just don’t do anything stupid,” he ordered through gritted teeth. Obviously another burst of malice had just hit him, but Lynné didn’t think it looked too bad at the moment. Right now, she had a call to answer.

“Bonjour?” She heard Sands groan in frustration from behind her.

“Who is this?” the voice on the other end demanded. Instantly, Lynné had a mental flash of what the man might look like: Mid-forties, hair thinning, portly . . . he could probably be irritated easily, too. This was someone who thought he was something and liked to treat others like incompetents, kind of like her keyboarding teacher back in high school (inside-joke, btw). Yeah, she could definitely get to this guy.

“I’m sawrry,” she said into the phone, putting on a whinny voice and sounding nothing like herself, “but waz there a poyson you had waanted to tawlk to?”<br>
“Young lady, this is a private line,” the man informed her, “and I demand to know who you are and what you are doing using it!”<br>
“This is a private line? An’ yowu’re tellin’ me I’m not ta be usin’ it?” she asked, sounding perplexed.

“Yes, this is a private line!”<br>
“But if this is private line, then why awer you usin’ it?”<br>
“I’m authorized to, miss! But if you’d kindly inform me why you’re –“

“Hang on,” interjected Lynné, “lemme put onnna I disagreeociate on the phone.”<br>
“Associ – who is this!?!”<br>
“Who is this?” Lynné asked, now using a British accent.

“That’s none of your business until I know who you are,” the caller insisted.

“Excuse me, but I believe I asked you first,” she replied, sounding slightly insulted.

“I – no you didn’t!”<br>
“I didn’t?” gasped Lynné, loosing the British voice and adapting a panicky, breathless one. “But . . . I thought for sure I did . . . I, oh my God . . . If I didn’t – Oh! I don’t want to think about what’ll happen . . .”<br>
“Look, lady, just calm down –“ the caller began.

“Calm down?” she nearly screamed, sounding more than slightly hysterical. “Calm down!? How can you say that? Ohhhh, if only you knew what I’ve been through . . . the betrayal, the torment, being locked in a trunk . . .”<br>
“Miss, whoever you are, please, just breathe a bit –“

“And they took my belt buckle, too!” she sobbed in despair.

Sands’ eyebrows went up at this and he was sure, if he had been able to see, that he would have seen Lyn glaring at him from across the room. Okay, so the buckle with the pot leaf had been hers, and, yes, he had worn it that day, but she always took his stuff . . . nonetheless, he shrugged and gave her a ‘what-can-I-say’ grin.

Seeing this, Lynné let out a disgruntled sigh and shook her head at him, turning back to the phone.

“Look, just stay where you are, we’ll be sending someone right over –“ the man started, but Lyn cut him off.

“Y’know what?” she said, speaking in normal tones. “I don’t think that’ll be necessary. Have a nice day.”<br>
And without a moment’s hesitation, she threw the phone down on the floor, where it hit with a resounding ‘THUNK’ raised her booted foot, and brought it down on the object with a satisfying crunch.

“They’ll have traced the call,” Sands informed her.

“I don’t think I was on long enough for them to,” she responded, “And if my favorite people DO show up . . . then it’s a good thing I already have most of our things packed.”<br>
“Well d*mn you for being longsighted.”<br>

~*~

[BunnyLuvsit]

Part II

~*~

Liam paced the floor of the living room. The TV was on, but he wasn’t listening. Lynné would be mad, no, scratch that, furious when she came down and asked him if the news had held anything worthy of concern. He would tell her he didn’t know – better than lying, something he would sincerely regret doing because Lynné always knew when you lied – and she would ask him in that dangerously calm voice of hers why, and he would be truthful.

Thinking about Lynné was always work that left him in a state of bemusement. Of course, his partner was a confusing woman who could make anyone believe what she wanted them to believe, so that made sense. He often tried to figure out just who she was and how her mind worked, but it was impossible. Not ‘nearly impossible’ or ‘next to impossible,’ it was simply impossible. And that’s exactly the way Lynné wanted it to be.

Long, dark, shoulder-blade length hair and equally dark eyes; it was strange how brown eyes like Lynné’s, which were usually very common, could be so cold and dangerous, yet so very lovely. . .

‘Lovely!?’

What, was he attracted to Lynné now? She was very pretty, even if she did resemble her brother greatly. Not saying that he wasn’t easy on the eyes either – not saying that he, Liam, was drawn to men in the least.

Liam sighed and ran his fingers through his dirty blonde hair that fell a little past his shoulders. It was Lynné who had convinced him to let his hair grow longer, actually. And it was Lynné who was the cause for all of this.

No, that wasn’t fair. She didn’t cause everything.

She and Liam had been sent to Mexico about three years ago. He was just out of the academy and ready to start on a mission, and Lynné had just returned from Greece having successfully ‘settled’ a dispute between mob families. Liam had chosen to take on the job of taking down the ever-rising cartel in Mexico because he was eager to serve his country. Lynné agreed to the deal because she was sick of America, though now, Liam imagined, she despised Mexico even more.

Things had seemed to be so going well at first. Lynné had set everything up, hired the right people, made the proper connections . . . and then everything had started to crumble before her, and the CIA had made no move to help.

And now, it seemed, that Sands had gone through the same thing, only it wasn’t certain that the agency hadn’t bothered to stop the cartel from disposing of him, whereas with Lynné they had made that all too clear.

But he had survived, and still worked for the CIA. He had just . . . chosen . . . to remain in Mexico because . . . he didn’t want Barillo or drug lords like him to take control of the country.

'That’s a d*mn lie,' he could practically hear his partner say.

It was, too. Lynné had ordered him to remain in Mexico, worried that he would whisk off to the CIA and inform them of her whereabouts. And, as if that weren’t nice enough, kindly tell them that she spit on the CIA and that she could care less if they all went out and . . . . well, Liam would rather not repeat, even in thought, what his partner had said the CIA could do.

~*~

It had to come some time, Lynné knew that. But why now? Why her? It wasn’t that she was squeamish or anything, she had dealt with things much more graphic than this . . . with other people. That made all the difference.

She had asked Sands whether he wanted her to wait until he had fallen asleep and/or passed out first or go ahead and get it over with now. He had chosen the latter, the not a very nice person. Eh, but he was probably going to blackout once she had started her . . . job . . . anyway.

Taking in a breath, Lynné slowly began to clean off the congealed blood on her brother’s face, saving his eye sockets for last. Neither she nor Sands wanted the glasses to go off until everything else had been taken care of.

Why the hell are you getting so tense over all this? God, you act like you’re some hormonal teenager and you’re about to remove his pants but are nervous about it cuz you don’t really know the guy . . .

Oh, go screw yourself.

Sands’ breathing became increasingly more pained as time pressed on.

“We both know that even if I could give you painkillers, you’d refuse them. . . so it’s rather useless to offer, I think.”<br>
“Yeah, yeah . . . f*cking bastards . . .” His voice diminished as his breathing became more shallow. “I don’t even know why they let me go.”<br>
“Probably so they could take bets on how long you’d last,” answered Lyn.

“Y’know,” said Sands, raising his head a little, “I think I may have heard one of them say just that.”<br>
“Told ya.” Sucking in a low breath, she said, “Okay . . .”<br>
In one quick movement they were off. Lyn winced impulsively at the sight before her. She hadn’t gotten a good look at the cartel’s handiwork when she had asked Sands to remove his sunglasses earlier that day, so it hadn’t been that horrific, but now . . . Lynné closed her eyes slowly. She had seen a lot of things way back when . . . but they could never compensate for this. The horrendous dissection that those bastards, Barillo and Ajedrez both, had done or had ordered to be done (it didn’t matter) to her sibling. If she hadn’t known they were already dead, she would have considered them as good as if she had gotten a hold of them.

“Oh my Christ,” she breathed, “ . . . they were in such a hurry –"

“’They’ would be Guevera,” Sands interjected, “I won’t call him by his proper title of ‘doctor’ because he’s not. He just some sick f*ck who gets enjoyment out of –“

“They didn’t even finish the job,” continued Lyn as though she hadn’t heard him. “They didn’t complete the procedure the . . . f*ck . . . mooks . . .” She trailed off, gazing into the dark caverns that had once held Sands’ eyes.

“What?” he asked sharply.

“They . . . they didn’t finish the job,” she repeated, her hand rising to cover her mouth, which was, strangely enough, twitching as if it wanted to smile.

“I thought we’d already decided that,” Sands snapped, “Remember? They wanted to take out bets before I up and croaked on the operating table.”<br>
“No, jackass, Barillo’s goons, doctor, or whoever the hell the got to do it – the didn’t finish what they started.”<br>
“And why would that matter?” asked Sands in bored tones.

“Because,” his sister said, sounding somewhat triumphant, “they only took your eyes.”<br>
If he had had said eyes, Sands would have rolled them at her and then demanded she start taking her medication if she was on any, and then informed her that she should get some if she wasn’t.

“Lynnie, I think you’re los –”

“No, you don’t get it, that’s all that was removed. They didn’t get to the optic nerve or the . . . the main . . . things—oh, I don’t know what they’re called, I’m not an optometrist –”

“Lyn,” Sands warned, his visage looking more and more dangerous by the minute, “start making sense, or I swear I’ll blow you sky high.”<br>
“Hell you will,” Lyn smirked, “but I will tell you.”<br>
“Good –”

“Just let me check something. Give me a moment?”<br>
Before he could protest, Lynné had removed herself from the bed and dashed out of the room, leaving Sands to lye on the bed, shaking his head after her. A few moments after his sister’s departure, Sands leaned his head back on the pillows and sighed.

“Why does she always do that . . . ?”<br>

~*~

And so marks the end of another chapter. The next one, which will hopefully be up sometime next week, is expected to be much more detailed and . . . ermm . . . painful and . . . gory, I think are the words I’m looking for. Reviews are much appreciated, thanks! ^.^

[BunnyLuvsit]

Part I




Chapter Four: Fire to Ice



Wouldn’t ya know it? I don’t have anything to say. *blinks* Really, I don’t. That’s a first, for those of you who know me from my IZ Fan Fiction, which there will be more of, I assure you. But first, this one. I hope I’ve written Sands well. His lines and actions are hard to think of, y’know? You never know what he’s gonna do. (looks over at Sands, who is placidly drinking his tequila) Erm . . . . I won’t ask where he got that, I just won’t.

~*~

Ohhhh this was going to suck. The pain had slowly been ebbing away at the remaining drugs the cartel had injected into him. It had been doing it for the past hour or so, Sands determined. He could feel the drugs fading quickly now. At first it had been slow, tedious, feeling a bit like pin pricks, but the pins had started to dig deeper and had begun to lengthen, widen to the point where they felt, no, had turned into daggers. Big, long, ten-inch things that were plunging into every part of him, and each one was on fire. And now . . . . there would soon be no drugs left, none at all . . . and the thought of suicide would be very tempting . . . .

No. No, no, f*ck no. Not like this. If he was gonna do that last tango in Paris, he wasn’t going to do it lying on a bed writhing in pain, and he certainly wasn’t going to do it in Mexico. He hated the godforsaken country and everyone in it. He had only taken on this d**n assignment because he was bored. He had nothing better to do, and he hated having to remain in one place longer than necessary.

Sands gasped sharply when he was once again afflicted by the burning sensation that shot through his body. It was just like the others he had been suffering through that day. Only difference was this one didn’t subside. It wasn’t like the others. It remained with him, gnawing at his wounds, cuts, scrapes, bruises, everything imaginable was being bitten and torched.

Where the hell is Lyn!?

Gone, ditched you, I expect.

No . . . that’s not her style. She wouldn’t leave like that.

Wouldn’t she? She’s left people before. First her family, then the United States, quickly followed by the CIA, how long do you think it’ll be?

‘’Til she leaves me alone? Never. She’s my sister, for Christ’s sake; she’ll never leave me the hell alone.

Yes she will, his so-called conscience insisted, She’ll leave you all alone with no one but me for company.

Sands had to smile at what the voice had said despite how grim his situation looked.

Then I won’t be alone then, will I?

~*~

[BunnyLuvsit]

Part II

~*~

“What’s wrong?” Liam asked as Lynné came flying down the stairs and into the living room. She said nothing but flung herself in front of his laptop and exited out of his game of solitaire.

“Hey, I had four hundred-something on that game,” he cried in protest, but Lynné silenced him with one look. Her eyes flashed and that was all it took.

Within seconds her fingers were flying all over the keys, her eyes never leaving the screen of the little computer. Her face wore an expression one in deep concentration mingled with slight irritation might wear. She was clearly looking for something because Liam heard the annoyingly familiar, “You’ve got mail!” sound from the computer.

“Yeah, yeah,” Lynné muttered under her breath, more to the screen than to him.

“Might I ask what you’re doing?” he inquired mildly.

“No,” was the sharp answer, then, “just get me a medical book. One about eyes, preferably.”<br>
Liam raised an eyebrow in her direction but said no more and went off in search of the book. Meanwhile, Lyn’s furious typing subsided a bit as the search engine slowed to a halt. Nothing but a blank widow appeared on the screen.

“D*mn you AOL,” seethed Lynné, “Stupid, slow piece of shi – bingo.” A somewhat triumphant grin crawled across her face as she clicked on one of several links the computer showed.

“I found your book.” Liam’s voice came from somewhere upstairs.

“Flip through it ‘til you find a picture of the eyes and all the –" she waved her hand, searching for the right word – “junk that’s behind them.”<br>
“What are you getting at?” Liam asked as he leafed through the thick volume he was carrying.

“Guevera, sick b*stard that he is, didn’t complete the procedure,” she explained. “He only ripped out his eyes.”<br>
She looked up just in time to see Liam’s mouth fall open. Sh*t, she’d forgotten he didn’t know.

“So . . . so . . .” he stammered, oh get a hold of yourself, guy. “He . . . doesn’t have any –”

“No. But that’s all he’s missing.”<br>
“Um . . so?”<br>
Lynné rolled her eyes at him. ‘Men.’<br>
“He conveniently forgot to take out the optic nerve. They even left his eyelids, from what I could tell. And that –"

But she never finished. At that exact moment a strangled yell came from the guestroom upstairs. Both Lynné and Liam turned their heads toward the ceiling; a moment passed. Liam suddenly jumped a bit as another scream echoed throughout the house. Eyes widening with concern, Lynné leapt from her chair and bolted back up the stairway, with Liam right behind her.

~*~

When did it suddenly get so cold? A moment ago the heat had been so intense he felt for certain that he had died and gone to Hell. But the flames surrounding him had suddenly gone out, and a cold mist had taken their place. At first it had been a relief from the heat, but soon it had become too much. The fire that had once engulfed his body was suddenly taken over by a horrible frost. It clouded his mind, filling it with thick, swirling fog that made it more and more difficult to tell illusion from reality.

The phone slipped from his hand as he watched Ajedrez slid into the chair across from him. He had told her to meet him there, so why did it worry him to see her? Maybe it was that smug look she had on her face. It looked like a bad imitation of the smirk one his sister always wore whenever she had just gotten exactly what she wanted. But that smile had never concerned him before.

‘You really never saw it coming, did you?’ she asked with a light laugh in her voice.

Next thing he knew, there was a needle being plunged into the side of his neck and everything was driven into darkness.

Then, out of nowhere, a light appeared, a little blurred but a light all the same. He tried to sit up, but it was impossible. His legs and arms had been cruelly strapped down to a cold, steel table, making him almost immobile; all he could move was his head.

He looked around the small, square room. A few cronies were stationed here and there, and there was Guevera, the sick f*ck, giving him a satisfied, slightly twisted smile. Beside him stood . . . . Christ . . . Barillo . . . ? But no, that wasn’t right . . . he was dead, wasn’t he? Sands turned his gaze to the slim woman sitting on the table next to his with her legs crossed, gun in hand.

Oh. . .

My . . .

Christ . . .

‘Sorry, baby, but I told you I didn’t want any part of your plan . . .’

She was sorry? Is this how she made her apologies? Strapping every guy she dated to table and then doing . . .God only knows what? And then it hit him. He had let her in on his scheme, the plan he had concocted in order to get Lynné and himself out of Mexico, away from the cartel. He had been stupid enough to let Ajedrez in on his little plan . . .

‘. . . I’m his daughter.’

. . . and she had sold him out to Barillo, her father. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Guevera moving towards him with . . . what the hell? Was . . . was that a DRILL? His eyes widened, he didn’t bother to mask his terror this time. All he could do was struggle, and hope that someone, anyone put a stop – a white-hot pain shot through him.

He screamed, louder than he had ever allowed himself to, as things went from hazy, to bright, vibrant red, to complete and endless black. And then, before he could curse any of them, Guevera, Barillo, Ajedrez, the torture began all over again. Somehow it seemed much worse, now that he only had one eye left. And he yelled again, though it was muffled somewhat this time . . . why?

Sands stood in the middle of a dusty, deserted street in Mexico, panting for breath, barley able to stand no thanks to the two bullet holes going through his legs. And there before him was Ajedrez, the only woman he had given full trust to, and she had betrayed him. But he had killed her, he knew he had. However, there she was, wearing that horrible smile she had worn earlier that day and holding a gun up, the barrel pointed right at his throat.

'See anything you like?'

He had killed her. Sands was certain of it, he had heard her drop, but hadn’t seen her fall. But that wasn’t important. His vision seemed to be working perfectly for some reason . . . he could see her go down now. She was already set up. All he had to do was . . . watch her fall . . .

‘See anything you like . . . ?’

She was sorry . . . the hell she was sorry . . . and if she wasn’t, which he was sure of, he would make her sorry. . .

~*~

[BunnyLuvsit]

Part III

~*~

Lynné came to a sharp halt when she finally reached the spare bedroom. Sands was all but flailing on the bed, entangled in the sheets because he was thrashing so badly. Lynné was about to rush over to him, when something solid crashed into her from behind. Wheeling around to throw a glare at Liam, Lyn had to bite back a grimace at the look of absolute horror on his face. She wondered for a split second what was wrong with him before the answer came to her.

Of course, dumb*ss! He just now found out Sands is missing his EYES, now he actually has to face it.

Liam continued to gaze in repulsion at the man groping around on the bed. He looked as though he was trying with every ounce of self-control he possessed not to retch right then and there. For what had to be the millionth time Lynné wondered how a guy like that could get into the CIA.

Don’t dwell on that, f*ckmook! Do something before he – sh*t.

There was nothing she could have done. She had watched as her partner’s eyes rolled back into his head, swayed uneasily, and then fainted on the spot.

Rolling her eyes at the crumpled body in front of her and deciding that he was in no immediate danger, Lynné turned to help her brother only to find that he was already standing right behind her. Sands was panting slightly and blood had once again began to ooze out of his empty sockets. Strangest of all, he was wearing a face of absolute loathing and he was looking straight at her. But before she could do or say anything, he had grabbed her by the throat and slammed her into the nearest wall.

“Sands, what the hel –"

“Shut up,” he growled at her, “Shut the hell up.”<br>
He had lost his guns somehow, but for the first time being unarmed didn’t concern him. All he was thinking about now was how much pain he could cause the pregnant dog who had ruined everything for him . . . and had stood there and laughed as she watched it happen. As the thought came to mind, Sands wound his fingers even more tightly around Ajedrez’s throat, but not enough to cut off her breathing. He wanted to hear her beg before he killed her.

Lyn’s breathing became short as she felt Sands clench her neck tighter.

“Sands . . .” she managed to gasp, “Sands I want you to listen to me –"

“I’m afraid I don’t feel obligated to do that, mi querida,” he shot at her.

‘Mi querida?!’ she thought wildly. What the f*ck . . ?

Then it hit her, something stirred in the back of her memory: Just because Sands never spoke in Spanish didn’t mean he couldn’t speak the language at all. In fact, the only time she had ever heard him use Spanish was when he was talking to —<br>
Ah sh*t.

“Sands . . ,” she began, careful to take deep, calming breaths. “Tell me who you think I am.”<br>
“Don’t play mind games with me, perra,” he warned, “Especially with someone whose day has been as f*cked up as mine has.”<br>
From the doorway of the guestroom, Lynné saw signs of life coming back to her partner. Liam groggily propped himself up on his elbows and shook his head to rid himself of the dizziness that had clouded his mind. Suddenly, his senses fell back into focus when a young woman about to undergo strangulation caught his attention. Without pausing to think, Liam sprung to his feet.

How sweet. . . He’s playing the hero and rescuing the damsel in distress.

Piss OFF. The last thing I need is this right now. I’ve got everything in my control.

Control? the voice snorted. Yeah, you’ve got greeeat control. Whatever you say, honey.

Quickly shooting Liam a warning look, Lynné once again devoted her attention to her brother. Closing her eyes, she desperately searched her mind for a way out of this. He still looked puzzled, though he didn’t take another step towards them, so Lyn assumed he got her drift. Inhaling heavily, she let her breath escape through her lips. And, strangely enough, she was suddenly reminded with a line from a play:

‘Here is the key to existence. Are you all listening? Always . . . breathe. It’s the basis of life, breathing. It’s basically the basis. If you don’t breathe . . . you die.’

Yeah, which is exactly what’s going to happen to YOU if you don’t do something! Quit quoting Durang and get your rear in gear!

She was suddenly drawn out of her mental quarrel when she realized that Sands was talking to her. He was toying with her mind, that she knew, and if she had been any other girl he would have had her right where he wanted her. However, the fact that she wasn't any other girl was what made all the difference. She was his sister, she had grown up with him and had a decent idea of how his mind worked. And he needed to be reminded of that.

“Sands,” she cut off his threats, much to his annoyance, “I need you to listen to me, all right? Just hear me out.”<br>
Her brother didn’t say anything, but merely increased his grip on her throat. His anger seemed beyond words. Lynné took in another breath and began.

“My name is Beatrice Lynné Sands, I used to work for the Central Idiocy Agency before they screwed me over, and I’m your darling little sister, savvy?”<br>

~*~

Aaaaand I Think That’s Where I’m Gonna Leave Off. Mwahaha . . . Cliff-Hanger-Ness Is Maddening, Is It Not? I Think So, Anyway. In Any Case, Hope You’re All Enjoying This And I Also Hope I’m Managing To Keep Everyone In-Character. If Anyone Has Any Suggestions, Let Me Know! I’m Open For Advice, Merci. ^.^

[BunnyLuvsit]

Chapter Five: Unwanted Visions


Part I



Wow . . . five chapters already . . . .and if my evil computer hadn’t decided to be so darned uncooperative, there would probably be even more than that. But still!! I’m on a role with this, I really am. I just hope I don’t contract writer’s block or, as I prefer to call it, ‘Mort Rainey Syndrome.’ ^.^* If you’ve read the book or seen the movie ‘Secret Window,’ you’ll know what I’m talking about.

~*~

‘Beatrice’ . . . . ‘BEATRICE’ . . . !? If he were still capable, Sands would have blinked in surprise. What . . . who . . . Who the hell was ‘Beatrice?’ He didn’t know anyone by that name . . . . he was certain he didn’t . . . yet . . . the name rang a bell. It was distant, faint, but somewhere way back in the depths of his mind, a bell went off at the sound of that name. However, some stupid bell’s ringing didn’t tell him who the hell ‘Beatrice’ was.

Whoever she was, she was starting to grow heavy. At first she hadn’t seemed to weigh anything, but now . . . Sands' arms were shaking with overexertion. He knew he wouldn’t be able to keep up his vice grip for long. D*mn blood loss . . . D*mn cartel . . . D*mn that b*tch . . . At the very thought his energy seemed to have renewed itself. Clenching his teeth, Sands intensified his hold on . . . what’s-her-name. ‘Beatrice.’ But . . . wait a moment, wait a moment . . . she had said something after that.

. . . . Beatrice. . .

No . . . it couldn’t be . . . that would be all the proof anyone would need if they wanted to prove him crazy . . .

. . . Lynné . . .

Ajedrez’s face was still clear in his mind. As clear as if . . . if instead of being blinded . . . someone . . . some sick f*ck had only taken a picture of the b*tch and then plastered it over his eyes.

. . . Beatrice Lynné . . .

SH*T!!!

Sands dropped Lynné so suddenly he could tell she wasn’t ready. He picked up her startled ‘Oof!’ but he didn’t make any response. Raising a hand to his temple, Sands staggered backwards, lost in the complete and utter shock at what he had just done . . . or had been about to do.

Smooth move, jack*ss. Tell me, d’you think you’re gonna get a prize for killing both of the people you ever cared about in one day?

Shutup!Shutupnow! Sands thought frantically, running his fingers through his hair. I . . . Oh Christ . . . I could’ve killed her . . .

Huh. Guess I was wrong. I never thought of the possibility of you killing her.

“Are you alright?” Liam had rushed to her side and was looking at her with wide, concerned eyes.

“Fine, fine . . .” Lynné murmured, distracted. She tried to get to her feet, but it proved rather difficult due to the fact that her partner’s hand remained glued on her shoulder. Covering up her annoyance with concern, Lynné shrugged off his grip as politely as she could.

That could’ve gone . . . .

Worse? Better? Care for a tip or do you think you’re a big girl and can do it allll yourself?

Come on. Despite herself, Lyn responded to the voice. You and I both know that I’m too f*cking c*cky to ever accept help from anyone.

Which, need I remind you, is exactly why you’re still in Mexico after . . . how long has it been? Three years? Three years, Lynnie? And you’re still sitting on your arse in Mexico —

Still in Mexico, yes, she mused silently, but I wouldn’t say I’ve been sitting on my *ss. I’m pretty much the cause of the major revolution that went down today, aren’t I?

Mmmhmm, the voice agreed. And you’re also the cause of Sands’ sudden . . . loss.

Lynné scowled inwardly and managed to put the mute button on her inner voice for the time being. She looked over at her brother and saw that he had managed to find the bed and sit down on it, despite how much it must have hurt to bend his legs. His head was bowed and hidden in his hands. This look didn’t suit him, not at all. Like this, he gave off the air of a man who had been utterly defeated, and he seemed older that he really was, much older.

Seeming to have come to a decision, Lynné stood and silently left the bedroom.

~*~

This was awkward. This was really awkward. Liam shifted nervously, stealing a glance out the bedroom door, hoping to see a sign of Lynné’s return.

I can’t believe – wait. Yes, I can. It’s perfectly understandable to forget there are other people in the room if you were so close to being killed. And it’s perfectly understandable for Lynné to just up and leave with no other explanation. So why am I surprised?

Liam didn’t expect anyone to answer his silent question. After all, it wasn’t like he was schizophrenic or anything. And he wasn’t imaginative enough to have the things artistic people called ‘head-voices' and 'brainchildren.’ He had grown up with his respectable family in a quaint little God-fearing community who frowned upon weirdoes. Liam had been a nice little, honor-achieving boy who had matured into a polite, intelligent man, and people liked him, even if he did tend to be a bit . . . nervous, skittish, uneasy. But being in the CIA was slowly helping him overcome that.

Then why did I -- He couldn’t said ‘faint.’ He just couldn’t. . . . lose myself . . . back . . . back there?

He switched his gaze from the door to the hunched over man on the bed. As much as he hated himself for it, he was grateful that Sands could no longer see the panic-stricken looks Liam was giving him. If he could have, Liam knew Sands would have thrown some sharp, sarcastic remark his way. And that he, Liam, would not know how to answer it.

Well, wouldn’t anyone want to gag right after seeing . . . something . . . something like . . that? He suppressed a shudder as the haunting image tried to flood his mind. It nearly succeeded, but surprisingly he was able to dam it in time. Only years of living with Lynné could make that possible for someone as edgy as him.

~*~

[BunnyLuvsit]

Part II

~*~

Well, that was it. Those who Sands had let past his cold exterior had left the scene. The two people that had ever gotten past the barrier . . . were gone. One dead, one soon-to-be leaving, but either way they were both gone. There was nothing he could do now. Yeah, he could go out and shoot a few people, but what would that solve? The damage had been done; it was beyond repair now . . . just like his eyes . . .

Oh, God . . . don’t go getting all depressed on me, his inner-voice groaned. You’re no fun when you’re angst-y.

Oh, so sorry, his thoughts spat sarcastically. I didn’t stop to think about how you might feel. How could I’ve been so selfish?

Well, you were, y’know, it chided thoughtfully. If you hadn’t been so caught up in your little ‘Death to the B*tch’ plan, then you would’ve realized it was Lyn you were trying to choke. And . . . the voice added maliciously, that little fiasco wouldn’t have even occurred if you hadn’t been so set on ‘restoring the balance,’ as you like to say. And, if you hadn’t been blinded by Ajedrez’s so-called love for you . . . you wouldn’t have been blinded at all.

Sands was silent for a moment, then:

Or maybe . . . he ventured, that was you doing everything . . . and I was just watching from the sidelines.

Me? the voice snorted, sounding shocked. Don’t kid yourself. You know how you always have to be in control of everything, even your own mind. Trust me, Sheldon, it said, using his hated first name, despite how insane you are . . . it was allll you.

Sands cursed softly under his breath, not caring if Liam -- he knew he was still there; he could hear him – heard him or not. He had lost everything, and the fact that he no longer possessed the sense of sight was just an added bonus. Everything was gone; he was past the point of caring now.

No! No f*cking way. There isn’t a snowball’s chance in Hell that I’d turn into some desolated, angst-ridden a --

Something warm and damp was gently being pressed to his face. Sands flinched reflexively. Whatever it was stopped and drew back.

Lynné withdrew her arm when she saw Sands wince at her sudden presence. He hadn’t felt her sit down beside him on the bed. Carefully, she reached out and touched his shoulder, the one that hadn’t been shot.

Sands stiffened slightly at her touch, but did not move away. He recognized her palm when he felt it. Lynné’s hands were like her, in a way: Smooth and cold. It wasn’t exactly comforting, but he wasn’t looking for comfort at the moment.

Slowly, Lyn picked up the warm washcloth she has retrieved from the bathroom and gently began to clean the blood from Sands’ face.

“Liam left,” she told him quietly.

“I know,” Sands said, picturing her raising her eyebrows at this statement. “I heard him.”

“Oh,” was all she said.

“Just for my own benefit,” Lynné asked a moment later, “did you mistake me for Ajedrez?”

He turned towards her sharply, but said nothing.

“The only time I ever heard you actually speak Spanish was when you were talking to her, and even then you only used it to call her by pet names,” explained Lyn as she continued to dab the cloth against his face. Every time he felt it pain went through him, throbbing in the back of his head. However, the cloth was warm and he was freezing.

“Yeah,” he admitted, “yeah, I did think you were her. Tell me . . . are you always right?”

“For the most part,” smirked Lyn. She reached up to brush a few strands of his silky, dark brown hair out of the way when her fingers brushed across his forehead. She stopped short and felt his forehead with the back of her hand. It was dangerously hot, not to mention the only part of him that was relatively warm. The rest of Sands, she realized, felt nothing short of ice.

“Sh*t . . .” she muttered.

“What?” Sands asked casually, although he already had a pretty good idea.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were freezing?” she demanded with measured calm.

Sands merely shrugged, an action that only added to Lynné’s mounting annoyance.

Oh my Christ, all men are the same, the voice in her head fumed. Arrogant, stubborn, and stupid as hell.

Lyn narrowed her eyes. For once she and that irritating voice were on the same terms.

“Get into bed, mister,” she ordered sternly.

~*~