Sands leaned back on the couch looking relaxed as he waited for his unsuspecting prey. Said prey currently fixing him a tequila… with lime… in his small kitchen, seemingly not used to any kind of job in the culinary area judging by the way he was banging and crashing around.

‘It’s like STOMP giving me my own private performance for Christ’s sake,’ Sands thought to himself as he hollered a sarcastic "Are you alright in there?" to Cam. Cam gave a muffled response in the affirmative as Sands waited, the object he had retrieved from under the couch cushion hidden beneath him.

It was obvious to Sands that asking Cam nicely about how he’d found him that day in Mexico was getting him nowhere.

Well then, that was just peachy keen with him. After all, he’d never had any problems using force when necessary. Hell, he’d never had any problems using force even if it was totally unnecessary.

Sands heard Cam’s usual no-nonsense footsteps as he reentered the living room, and the sound of ice tinkling against the side of a glass.

"You alright amigo? Sounded like you were having a little trouble in the kitchen there," Sands asked in his trademark sarcastic drawl.

Cam rolled his eyes but ignored the comment. "Here’s your tequila."

Sands moved his head towards him stone-faced, but didn’t make a move to reach for the glass.

Cam stood there for a moment, nonplussed, before adding, "with a lime."

Sands smiled, and reached for the glass. As Cam gave it to him, he couldn’t help notice the slight look of malice that shifted across Sands’ features.

"Well, I guess I’ll be going now…" Cam told him, starting towards the door. Cam was beginning to feel a bit uncomfortable as he watched Sands take a sip of his tequila, and then immediately set it on the small coffee table in front of him.

"Veni huc."

Cam halted his progress to the door, turning around and facing Sands again, with a frustrated sigh. He knew very well that Sands spoke Latin to him because he knew Cam couldn’t understand him. But he knew Sands also did it to other people, so it seemed to be some bizarre game that Sands liked to play.

"Sands, you know very well that I don’t speak or understand Latin."

Sands smirked and made a somewhat sinister come here motion with his finger. Cam never thought that such an innocent gesture could be so frightening, until now. ‘Don’t go over there,’ Cam thought even as he reentered the room. ‘Bad idea… bad idea…’

Cam sat down hesitantly next to Sands on the couch, staying as far away as possible. Cam’s designated space between the two of them didn’t last long however.

Three things happened in the span of a few seconds.

Sands closed the gap between the two of them, grasped the back of Cam’s neck and pulled what appeared to be a syringe full of an unknown liquid out from god knows where.

Cam gulped slowly, damning himself for his own stupidity.

Sands held up the needle, his other hand holding Cam’s neck in a painful grip.

"Now Cameron," Sands drawled, and the use of his full name was not lost on Cam. "I have tried asking you nicely, twice, but to no avail. Now, I’ll ask you again and I’ll ask you for the last time…" he continued as he brought the needle up to Cam’s neck, "…how did you know that I needed to be exfiltrated that day in Mexico?"

Cam opened his mouth to answer, but Sands quickly interrupted him, "Think very carefully about what you say to me Officer…" Sands said as he edged a little closer to Cam, his voice now exuding that dangerous calm that meant only one thing; he was furious. "… because if you lie to me now I swear I’ll fucking pump this shit into your veins and let you worry about what it is and how much time you’ve got left until it takes you. Capiche?"

Cam stayed completely still.

‘Sands thinks I’ve betrayed his trust… perhaps even thinks I may be part of some larger plot involving Officer Martin.’

After all that had happened, Cam supposed he couldn’t blame Sands for his reaction. After all, he hadn’t answered Sands previously and it probably did seem suspicious to him. He should have known better.

‘I just need to stay calm, and explain.’

Cam swallowed again, his heart beating a little faster than he would have liked. "Yeah."

"Any time Cameron, I’m all ears."

"Before I start… I just want to say that I didn’t betray your trust in me, Sands."

Although Sands did his best to hide it, Cam saw the small frown that played over his face ever so briefly, replacing Sands’ normally unreadable mask.

"Why the hell would you think that I ever trusted you?" Sands asked. Deep in the back of Sands’ mind though, a voice rang out.

‘You should have known better than to ever trust Cam. You should know that you can’t trust anyone.’

Snapping himself out of his thoughts Sands snarled, "Get on with it or else…" He halted for a moment and smiled "…Me oporlet propter praeceptum te nocere."

"Well," Cameron started quickly, knowing Sands was in no mood for stalling. "Officer Martin may be lying about everything else, but he was telling the truth when he said he didn’t send for me to-"

"I think it’s rather obvious that I figured that out Cameron," Sands rudely interrupted, exasperated now. "I don’t think you’d be in this rather precarious position otherwise. Now stop farting around."

"FBI Agent Ramirez told me that you were injured and needed to be exfiltrated. Not long before Ramirez retired, he and I had worked to bring down a drug kingpin, so he knew how to get a hold of me. Ramirez also knew that I had worked with you previously. On the Day of the Dead he must have seen you at some point, known that you were injured, and then called me to get you out. Didn’t want to deal with you himself, said he was too old to deal with your shit."

Sands remained quiet for a moment, his grip on Cam loosening ever so slightly. "How did you know that I was going to be at the Flying Cow?" Sands demanded, still not wanting to let go of his suspicions.

"Ramirez told me. I don’t know how he knew, I only know that he was aware of the fact that you were going to be there. He told me that if you weren’t there then I should check a certain side street for your body." Cam paused for a moment as Sands slowly removed the needle from his neck, but kept his grip firm and the syringe ready just in case. Cam continued, "You were acting as his handler, weren’t you?"

"I was."

"Did you mention your meeting at the Flying Cow to him or tell him that you’d be there sometime that day?"

Sands sat back slightly, relaxing his grip on Cam a bit as his mind mulled over Cam’s explanation of the events. Truth be known, he couldn’t remember whether he’d shared that information with Ramirez or not. Those last couple days in Mexico just weren’t sharp in his mind, and he supposed that just too much shit had hit the fan for him to remember. Still, it irritated him no end that his memory on the subject was so vague.

Sands let go of Cam, still lost in his own thoughts. Cam, perhaps wisely, stayed silent and waited for Sands to make the first move.

Sands came to a sudden realization right then and there. He’d known Cam since he’d started out in the Company, and despite his life-altering misjudgment about Ajedrez’s motives and character, his instincts about a person were normally dead on. He just couldn’t quite bring himself to believe that Cameron was capable of such deceit.

The fact of the matter was he actually did trust the man sitting next to him.

Sands took a long, deep breath. Distrust was a vile little creature that refused to leave Sands’ twisted little world, and it was a hard habit to give up, especially now that he no longer had the ability to look into a man’s eyes or read the expression on his face as he spoke. It made it all the harder for him to trust his own instincts. A voice could tell you a lot about whether what a person was saying was the truth or a lie, but usually the eyes were what gave a person away…

Sands stood up abruptly, still not having said a word, and Cam was unnerved both by his silence and his sudden change of position.

But by far the most unnerving thing was watching Sands, Agent Sheldon Jeffery Sands, bad-ass extraordinaire, pacing before him as he nervously ran a hand through his shoulder length black hair mumbling, seemingly to himself, in Latin.

"Non est mea culpa."

‘I don’t know that I can trust him, I don’t know that he’s telling the truth. How do I know if a man is telling me the truth when I can’t look into his fucking eyes?’ Sands continued to think to himself angrily, not realizing he was mumbling things out loud.

"Veritatem dies aperit."

Cameron watched Sands worriedly. In all the years Cameron had known Sands, which was admittedly quite a few, he had never seen Sands do what he was doing right now.

Never.

Not even remotely.

And frankly seeing him act this way… well, it was scarier than Sands threatening his life.

Cameron was seriously considering the possibility that Sands might be having a mental breakdown right in front of him at this very moment… but was surprised when Sands suddenly stopped his odd behavior and rounded on him.

Sands stalked towards Cameron quickly, a look of anger on his face as he stood over Cam, who was still sitting on the couch.

Then Sands did something totally unexpected.

He reached up and roughly jerked off his sunglasses.

Cam finally saw the extent of what had been done to Sands. He had never seen Sands without his sunglasses or bandages, not since his return. Cam drew in a sharp breath, horrified at the sight of the two dark holes that stared back at him, where Sands’ eyes should have been. "Oh my god…" Cameron said softly as he started to look away, his stomach turning flip-flops. But Sands grabbed hold of the front of Cam’s shirt quickly, and pulled him back around, seeming to anticipate Cam’s reaction.

Grabbing hold of Cameron’s jaw, Sands aggressively turned his face so that it was facing his own, then leaned forward till they were only inches apart.

"Look at me," Sands ordered, giving him a slight shake. "Look me in what were once my eyes, and promise me…" Cameron forced himself to look, and noticed that Sands was having some difficulty continuing. "…promise me that what you’ve told me is the fucking truth."

Cameron finally figured it all out. Sands was desperate… desperate to trust someone. No matter how much of a bad ass he unarguably was, right now in his current state, he needed someone to trust. Cameron looked straight at Sands as he answered sincerely, "I promise you Sands, I’ve told you the truth… you can trust me."

Sands stood up straight again, taking a couple steps away from Cameron. Sands suddenly looked tired, and a little older than he had before.

"I swear Cam, if I find out at any time that you’ve lied to me…" he began, his tone full of warning as he gently put his sunglasses back on. His head was pounding, and he vaguely remembered that he should be taking his painkillers right now. "… I’ll make sure you know how I feel before you die."

"Sands, I-"

"Just get the fuck out of here Cam."

Cameron stood up slowly and made his way to the front door. He turned around; giving Sands one last worried glance, "I’ll… I’ll call you later, alright?’

"Noli me vocare, ego te vocabo. Get out!" Sands demanded as he removed a cigarette from its pack and lit it.

Cameron sighed, and as he left, the door shutting firmly behind him, he sincerely hoped that Sands would be alright.

~*~

Veni huc. - Come here.

Me oporlet propter praeceptum te nocere. - I’m going to have to hurt you on principle.

Non est mea culpa. - It’s not my fault

Veritatem dies aperit. - Time reveals the truth.

Noli me vocare, ego te vocabo - Don’t call me, I’ll call you.