Sands had finished throwing a little bit of everything inside his medium-sized suitcase. He knew what articles of clothing he had, but had no idea which shirts and pants he had chosen from his somewhat large wardrobe, as he pulled things out of his drawers at random. After his frustrating packing session, he decided that he needed to make some necessary arrangements with an old acquaintance of his.

Luckily, Sands had used the man several times before and knew his number by heart. He was in need of the man’s talent to set up a flight that even the CIA wouldn’t know about… at least, not right away. Without the man, getting to Mexico in a decent amount of time would pose a problem. Driving was obviously out of the question. And he could hardly take an Air America flight to Mexico, at least not until he’d cleared himself. Any attempt to use public transportation would mean that his name would be flagged instantly. Setting up a false ID and passport that he hadn’t already used would waste too much time. He decided that going to his old… pal would be the best course of action.

After an extremely brief chat with the man, Sands had arranged for a flight to Mexico for the following morning. He was a little disappointed that it couldn’t be sooner, but his body was rather tired from his mind’s brief vacation from reality and he figured a night’s sleep probably wouldn’t hurt.

Wandering back into his bedroom, Sands shut his suitcase and set it on the floor as he traded places with it, now reclining on the bed. He lay down even as his mind continued to work at a hundred miles an hour.

Sands sighed as his head hit the pillow.

After all, he was a born killer.

What did he need a pussy like Cam for anyway?

In an attempt to get more comfortable Sands punched his pillow a couple times before he rolled over on his side, and was rewarded for his troubles when his sunglasses dug into his face. Grunting and realizing he was alone in the apartment, he took them off and set them on the nightstand.

It seemed odd to him, just how vulnerable he felt without them now.

To him, it was like being an injured animal caught in the gaze of a predator. With his sunglasses off his weakness was clearly visible to anyone who chose to look, and giving the predator such an advantage was not an option.

In his opinion, it was much more fun being predator than prey, and if anyone was going to be the prey, it was going to be those bastards at the Company that had betrayed him.

He had a plan. Well, he sort of had a rough idea of a plan. He supposed that that would have to do.

Somewhere though, in the back of his mind, was the nagging belief that everything he was doing now was in vain, and an evil little creature whispered in his ear.

‘It’s hopeless…’

As sketchy plans for his personal covert operation ran through his mind, his breathing became rhythmic and he found himself in a deep slumber before he’d even realized that he was falling asleep.

~*~

When Sands awoke again, he felt much better. Much, much better.

Air filled his lungs as he breathed deeply, still lying on the bed. He stretched out his stiff arms, and froze in surprise when his right hand made contact with another body.

A body lying beside him on the bed.

That’s when it - she - spoke. The voice took his breath away, but he wasn’t sure why.

"Are you awake, Shelly?"

Sands tried to keep his smile hidden as he attempted an irritated voice. "You know, I hate it when you call me that."

She laughed lightly, "I know. Call it sweet revenge."

He allowed a light smile to show through as he remained lying lazily beside her. "And here I thought you dug my little nicknames for you, sugar-lips." She rolled her eyes and his voice became serious. "Shelly is no way to start the day."

She laughed again. He loved to hear the sound of it. She laughed so freely, so easily. It was something that he’d never been able to do, although she had helped him with that a little.

Her hand found its way to his chest. "Are you going to keep your eyes closed all day?" she asked, sounding amused.

Sands cracked open one eye and groaned unhappily as the light rushed in. "I think so, yeah."

"Well, maybe you can stay here in bed all day Jeff, but I’ve got to go to work," she said as her hand left his chest and she began to pull herself up, only to find two strong hands pulling her back into bed from behind.

"You can’t escape that easily, sugar-dumplin’," Sands drawled as he pulled her down on top of him. He studied her in all her morning glory. She was his exact opposite. She wore a knee-length white satin nightgown and her long blonde hair was wild and un-brushed. She had fair skin and eerily light blue eyes that seemed to look right though a person.

Perhaps that was why she was the only person who ever understood him, the only person who could see past all the walls he’d built since he was a child and see him for who he really was.

He watched her as she smiled and leaned against him; the sun seemed to make her glow, and, even though he was happy, as he looked at her a feeling of sadness slowly crept up on him.

She noticed the slight change in his face as his mood shifted, and immediately dropped her smile.

"What’s wrong Jeff?"

Sands pasted on a grin that didn’t reach his eyes, the feeling of loss remaining.

"Nothing sugar-love."

"I don’t believe you."

Sands decided to change tactics, so he smiled and gave her a playful glare. His eyes sparkled with mischief as he let out a small growl. Quickly he flipped their positions, so he was hovering above her.

She gave him a suspicious look. "You wouldn’t be trying to distract me from finding out what’s bothering you, would you?"

Sands stroked her cheek gently. "Cecelia, it’s nothing."

"No, it’s something. You’re different today. I see it in your eyes."

Sands looked at her, disconcerted. He felt it too. The two of them together, it was so right, yet today it was so wrong at the same time. It wasn’t normally like this. He couldn’t explain why today was different, or why he felt different, he didn’t know.

Not knowing what to say, Sands made use of his fine command of language; he said nothing at all. Instead he leaned toward her and gingerly kissed her lips.

Pulling away slightly, he stared into her eyes, battling with his feelings. One side of him admitted that he loved her, but the other side refused to allow him to say so out loud.

He swallowed hard, and opened his mouth to speak, but couldn’t find those three words. Those three simple words that he knew he needed to say, and that she needed to hear. Every time he tried to catch those three words, they ran away from him like a thief in the night.

He looked away from her intense gaze and his brow furrowed in frustration.

He couldn’t say those three simple words.

He knew how he felt about her, but had no idea what to do with the feelings. But then, neither of them was going anywhere. He had time… eventually… eventually he’d be able to tell her.

Sands shook his head at the odd thoughts running through his mind and felt her cool hand under his chin, tilting his head up so he’d look at her. She smiled slightly; they’d been through this before.

"I know Jeff… I know. You don’t need to say it."

He looked at her deeply, longing for his emotions to come through in his eyes as he softly spoke, "Imago animi vultus est, indices oculi."

Her smile widened as she tugged him down closer to her. "Ah, my Latin lover has returned to me. Adsum."

Sands ran a hand through her hair, brushing a strand out of her eyes.

"Ex proprio motu?"

She looked at him, almost sadly, as if sorry that he couldn’t believe it for himself, as she nodded yes.

"Hic et nunc," Cecelia smiled lazily as one of his hands glided gently down her neck and she sighed contently. "Et in aeternum."

Sands could only stare at her and after a minute or so she shook her head slowly.

"Your eyes are different Shelly. They hold less hope within them. You’re not the man I married, today."

Sands nodded. "I feel it too, but I don’t understand it," he finally admitted.

She looked at him for another moment as he caressed her softly, and he noticed immediately when her body tensed suddenly beneath his touch and her eyes widened in… what was it? Shock or horror?

"What is it sugar-sweet?" he asked, as she stared at him and then looked down at her chest. His eyes followed hers, and he gasped at the sight of the red blood pooling and soaking into the white fabric of her nightgown. Sands looked back up at her in horror.

"Oh God, what happened?" he asked, willing himself not to panic. He looked back down to try and find her injury, but then realized that the blood was pooling on the top of her nightgown, it wasn’t coming from her.

That’s when he felt it.

He looked at her again, and she began to scream. He quickly moved himself away from her, and off the bed.

The blood. There was so much blood, and it was rolling down his cheeks in waves.

His eyes were bleeding.

Cecelia had stopped screaming and tried to choke back tears as she got up off the bed. "Jeff… I’ll… I’ll call f… for help," she stuttered, as she moved to the phone and dialed 911. Sands vaguely heard her speaking to someone as he turned towards the mirror in their bedroom. His breath caught in his throat as he saw all the blood that ran down his face, onto his clothes, forming a bloody pool beneath him.

‘Now I know why this whole morning feels so wrong,’ he thought as he walked slowly towards the mirror, watching as the blood flowed down and his eyes turned from their usual bright brown to a coal black.

He turned back around to see her still desperately trying to explain the impossible situation to a 911 operator.

More desperately than before he turned back towards the mirror, and shut his eyes tight, pressing the heels of his hands against them in a hopeless attempt to stop the blood from flowing.

He wouldn’t be able to see her anymore if he lost his eyes.

He couldn’t take losing her again. He couldn’t take losing his sight again.

But the blood still flowed and now he was completely covered in it. He opened his eyes again, and watched in the mirror as they seemed to suddenly lose their fire and die, becoming gray and lifeless.

"No, no, no!" Sands whispered desperately and his stomach turned as he watched his eyes begin to bubble and melt.

"No, not again. Not again!" he pleaded to everything and nothing in particular. Hi eyes ran out of his sockets and down his face, sticky and hot, and he gagged. This was worse than the first time, because he could see it. He could see it all happening, even as his eyes melted away he could see as if they were still there. This horrible nightmare was allowing him to see himself as he was now, as he must appear to others. Those horrible dark sockets that held nothing – no life, no fire, no feeling, no soul. He couldn’t bear it, he couldn’t take it, he couldn’t look at it any longer. His breathing hitched and his heart thudded in his chest as he covered his face with his hands.

He didn’t know how long he’d stood like that, but when he felt her hands on his he cringed and tried to pull away.

"Look at me, Shelly," she demanded, but he shook his head and kept his hands over his face.

"I can’t."

She leaned close to him and whispered in his ear. "Your eyes are not responsible when your mind does the seeing." She pried his hands away from his face and forced his head up. The blood had stopped flowing now, and it clung to his face like tears. She looked at him sadly as she pushed some of his hair behind his ear.

"Now you see what I’ve become," he said in a whisper.

"And what do you think that is?"

He could still see her, and he was no longer sure if he was grateful for that or not.

"Monstrum horrendum, informe, ingens, cui lumen ademptum."

A tear rolled down her cheek as she cupped his face in her hands and moved closer to him, their bodies touching. "No, Shelly," she told him, in hushed tones. "You could never be that. Non illigitamus carborundum." Her arms gently wrapped around his body and they melded into a forgotten embrace. "Can you really tell me that you’ve never seen beauty in this life?"

Sands started to pull back, confused by the unusual question, but she held him in place with gentle firmness. He let out a soft sigh; "The only beauty I’ve ever known in life was you."

She smiled regretfully as her head rested on his shoulder, and they stood there holding each other. "I’ve heard it said Shelly, that no eyes that have seen beauty can ever lose their sight."

He said nothing, only held onto her a little tighter. She pulled away from him just enough to see his face; she stared at him as if she could still see his eyes, and her own became moist. "You’ve changed so much, been through so much, and you will go through so much more. Stay strong. You were always my strength, now let me be yours."

He began to speak, but she pressed a finger to his lips and he stopped before he began.

"I know. You’ve never needed anyone." She leaned into him, her lips brushing against his as she spoke again in a voice so soft he was unsure it was even there. "So don’t need me… just remember me." Their lips pressed together and each opened to the will of the other, and the kiss was long and deep, desperate and hopeful, loving and lustful.

Then everything turned to black, and her touch disappeared and he knew that he had woken from a dream. He didn’t move at first, not knowing where the dream had come from. Never had he had a dream like the one he’d just had. It had been so completely vivid, the colors so clear and sharp, it was still fresh in his mind.

He’d tried to forget her.

A single tear slid down his cheek and he brushed it away so quickly that anyone observing would most likely have missed it. He was vaguely surprised that he could even cry at all. There was only one other time that Officer Sheldon Jeffery Sands had cried, in rage and sadness, and that was the day he’d lost what small hope he had in the world and in others. The day his family had left him, the day that she’d left him.

"Shit, what is wrong with me?" Sands muttered, as he sat up quickly. First he’d lost his hold on reality when he was awake, and now again, when he was asleep.

He reached in his pocket for a cigarette and lit it hastily as he went over the dream again. It had been wonderful and horrible at the same time. He smirked slightly as he remembered what she’d said.

He chuckled a little, as he figured out why he’d said that phrase to Cam, seemingly against his own will. She had said it, and Cam had brought him the memory of her.

He took a long drag of his cigarette as his smirk turned into a grin.

He wasn’t going to let her down.

He got up with a new resolve and moved toward the closet that held his weaponry.

Officer Sands had some guns to shoot, disguises to wear, and slow-roasted pork to eat, and those bastards weren’t going to grind him down.

~*~

Imago animi vultus est, indices oculi. - The countenance is the portrait of the soul, and the eyes mark its intentions.

Adsum. - I am here.

Ex proprio motu? – Voluntarily?

Hic et nunc - Here and now

Et in aeternum. - And for eternity.

Monstrum horrendum, informe, ingens, cui lumen ademptum. - A monster frightful, formless, immense, with sight removed.