#like the grief about Guero is something she has to be very careful to keep separate -
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Yess! Because I trully believe after the next episode scene that, as @calliopecalling said it, she knows her new thing with James is important to her. And she has no idea how important yet <3
Look at yourself. You’ve got blood all over your hands.
#queen of the south#qots#season 3#3x07#2021 rewatch#teresa mendoza#qotsedit#rb#themagicalshrimp#this scene is soooo sad#her anguish is just 💔#the symbolism is pretty obvious:#she feels like his blood is on her hands#not only is she probably telling herself his death is her fault#but the salt in the wound is that she'd moved on while he was being tortured for her the whole time#we know bc of her conversations next episode that none of this means she regrets James#but it certainly makes her grief more complicated and contributes to her putting up this wall between them#like the grief about Guero is something she has to be very careful to keep separate -#to be careful not to let it contaminate the precious new thing with James
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The Ghosts that Haunt Us
As usual, the phone rings late in the night.
Also as usual, Devon doesn’t wait for his answer to give him his orders.
“Teresa is in the hospital. Find what happened and make sure she survives. The driver is waiting.”
The words hit him like a punch to the gut and he feels numb. She is hurt and I wasn’t there to help her. She was supposed to be safe. His eyes burn with tears and he has the urge to punch something, anything… But he needs to be a soldier right now, so he breathes deeply and tries to slow his heartbeats down enough to go grab his equipment.
He has a mission.
He has to help her.
―
The driver is also the agent responsible for babysitting him in this mission. His name is agent Miller. He looks young, but sounds very secure as he informs James on the details about what happened and what he should do.
“She’s an asset that must be kept safe” he says, and James won’t waste his time asking why anymore. “Find the responsible party for the bomb and neutralize them as quickly as possible”.
His next question should be about the appropriate use of force, about what exactly “neutralize” entails. Instead, he asks:
“Did anyone else get hurt in the bombing?”
Miller eyes him through the rear view mirror.
“Her godson was killed” he says after a moment. “Eye witnesses state that he was in the car and she was approaching when the bomb went off.”
James nods and looks down. He thinks about her face when they met her in that farm ― a lifetime ago. If he closes his eyes, he can still picture the way sadness hung around her like an aura, weighting on her shoulders as she stood over her friend’s grave. She tried to act tough and unaffected right up until moment when the grief became too much and she couldn’t hold back her tears anymore. And then she had leaned on him as he held her and opened her heart about the pain all that loss was causing.
With Guero dead, that boy was the last connection to her old life that still existed. He thinks that, maybe, it was the last connection to the Teresa everyone knew. She wears her kindness and humanity in her sleeve, but there’s only so much loss someone can take.
We’re in this together.
―
His babysitter gives him a long and serious look when he asks to go to the hospital first. James wonders, briefly, what stories he had heard to trust him so little, wonders why they’re allowing him near her at all… But the option would be not knowing and not being able to do anything, so he is counting his blessings.
“I know my mission” James offers. “Her second in command knows me and he can offer a lot more insight than your file”.
It’s only half a lie.
―
He steps out of the elevator and the reality of what happened dawns on him like a bucket of cold water. The feelings he’s been trying to control since that phone call bubble just under the surface and he shivers, fearing that he’ll break down right there, that he won’t be able to get up again. He rubs a hand over his face and allows himself to hesitate for a moment longer than he would have if Miller were by his side. James had suggested that he would be more easily trusted if there wasn’t a CIA agent acting as his shadow, and, to his surprise, Miler agreed.
Each step towards her room makes his heart beat faster and he swallows on nothing when he spots Pote sitting by her bed. He looks as destroyed as James can’t allow himself to feel at the moment, and he keeps blinking like his body is fighting to get some rest and he won’t allow it. This is bad, Pote. If you don’t rest a little you won’t be in good shape if she needs you.
In another life, James would be there to change places with him and look over her.
A mean looking guy steps in front of him and interrupts his thoughts to ask who is he and what he is looking at. The soldier in James takes note of the long time he had alone in that hallway before that happened and he gets unreasonably angry. If it was another person with a gun with the right range, a good aim…
“He is a friend,” someone interferes before he can say anything. James looks over to the source and is shocked to find it’s Kelly Ann. “Hello James”.
The man he was before Teresa would have killed her without question, and if he is honest maybe some part of him was petty enough to have wanted to. But how would it make any sense to follow her to the another continent just to do things the same way? Teresa was hurt, both of them were, and Kelly Ann was little more than a pawn in Devon’s game. Not unlike the maid who Teresa had risked everything to save once. He thought she had made a mistake then, and he might have done the same when he decided to disobey her order, but he wasn’t able to shoot Kelly Ann. He told her to run and never come back. But of course she had.
Ghosts always had a way of coming back to Teresa’s life.
“It’s a surprise to see you here,” he says honestly.
“I could say the same,” she offers him a tight smile and he doesn’t reciprocate. “I suppose you heard what happened,” she offers.
He nods.
“Can I see her?”
Despite his words, James avoids looking at the bed like the plague. Instead, he lets his eyes wander to the heart monitor, to the uneaten sandwich and the full cup of tea on the small table by her bedside, and then at Pote. His ex-partner’s face goes from confusion to apprehension and, finally, to relief when he recognizes James.
“We’ve been looking for you, cabron! We wanted to tell you we had moved.”
This is a surprise, Pote has always been the quickest to distrust him and he had spent months away. James had prepared himself to give vague answers to the expected questions about what he’d been doing, but maybe he had earned enough of the sicario’s trust to be allowed some secrets in a moment like this.
“I’m here now. And I’m here to help. Tell me what happened.”
As he leaves the room, he tries not to, but ends up catchings a glimpse of her face. Just enough for something cold to drop in his chest. And he can’t do that right now, he has a mission.
She was supposed to be safe.
―
He instructs Pote to keep more attentive guards close to her room. And then goes through the list of suspects with agent Miller.
It is easy enough to identify the judge and his henchman. It is even easier to shoot everyone in the way between him and them. He can’t tell if he is enjoying it or if it’s just the adrenaline making him move faster rather than think about where he is going. He searches his feelings for pity, but can’t find it. He thinks about her in that bed and wonders if whatever she does when she wakes up will lead her to the same searches, the same findings.
Her voice echoes in his mind: I will not become like you.
He looks down at the two culprits, bound and alive for her to deal with when she wakes up.
It’s her choice now.
―
Agent Miller ― Christopher is his first name, James had learned ― isn’t happy at all. “Haven’t you already gone to the hospital?”
James meets the man’s blue gaze with resignation and decides to be honest.
“I want to see her. I don’t know when―if I’ll have another opportunity to do it.”
Christopher sighs and this is one of the rare moments when his youth comes through in his gestures, “I’ll give you half an hour, that’s all I can cover”.
“Thank you.”
―
Kelly Anne is sitting by her bed when he enters the room. Her eyes are slightly red and puffy. She had been crying, but made an honest effort to hide it with make up. That reminds James of something.
“I’m sorry for Tony. I know you took care of him for a while. This must be hard for you.”
She looks at him and seems about to say something, but holds back and then settles for a “Thank you”. Fair enough, he thinks. There’s too many almost murders between them for things not to be awkward.
“I’ll have to leave soon,” he says. “Can I have a moment with her?”
She nods and stands up, rubbing her palms against her thighs. “Just… Let the doctors know if something happens.”
He nods and waits for the sound of the door closing behind him before turning to finally look, really look at her. It breaks him just the way he knew it would. Sadness, guilt and anger all come to hit him at once and he can’t stop the tears in his eyes. It is a miracle that the hand he reaches to hers isn’t trembling. He takes a moment to feel her skin, it’s warm, she’s alive, and now she is safe, and that should be enough. It isn’t.
“The doctors said you’re going to be fine, and I wish that was true. I wish I could tell you everything is gonna be okay. I thought it was when I left, I wouldn’t have otherwise… I’m sorry about Tony, and about all the pain you will have to face when you wake up. I’m sorry I can’t stay to try to help you. I wish I could though, whatever that is worth.”
He is about to apologize about Kelly Ann too, but he doesn’t know if he should. If she was angry or relieved when she found out, what she would tell him if she were awake.
Would she bare her teeth and lash out at him for letting another ghost free to come back and haunt her? For disobeying her orders? No, Teresa would be direct and tell him that he was wrong for disobeying her orders and not telling her. That it made her vulnerable and she didn’t appreciate that. He would explain his reasoning and she would accept it or not, and whatever her decision was, he would respect it.
He breaths in realizing how much he misses talking to her. Quiet moments where they would share a beer and talk about their day. Their victories or losses, their hopes. Even their fights.
He feels so lonely lately, he had hoped she wasn’t feeling the same. And maybe she wasn’t, but now…
“You know, my grandfather had a farm, a peaceful place far away from anything. I loved it there as a kid. He used to tell me that when I grew up, I could raise my family there just like he had done with his. But after he died, mom lost everything and I ended up forgetting about it. But then, we were in Texas and I just… I remembered. I wish we had met in a different situation. This life… It only takes the things you love,” he moves down to place a kiss on her forehead and closes his eyes. “I did everything I could, but right now leaving is the only thing I can do to help. Goodbye, Teresa.”
―
A/N: I have no explanation for reposting this besides the fact that I’m a fickle person sometimes. I rewrote some stuff I wasn’t really happy with in retrospect and corrected some mistakes I could find.
You’re welcome and/or I’m sorry. Depends on how you feel about this.
Comments are appreciated.
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