#officer juarez

[renegadesstuff]

Badass duo 🔥🔥

[nerdyfangirlmel]

I will SCREAM if we don’t get a Celina plain clothes day

Like can you imagine the amazing chaos that would cause

I need it

[karihighman]

healthy, communicative, non-competitive, wholesome, productive female friendships >>>>

it was such a great end scene for lucy & celina in this episode because it truly shows how far they’ve come in their professional and personal relationship, and how they can not let one interfere with the other. respectful & receptive were the perfect words for them to use too!! 💙

[my-shields-are-down]

The promo really reminds me of The Purge.

Coincidence? (I love horror movies, so I’m excited and terrified for this finale. Are we seeing an army of Rosalind acolytes?)

[windshield91]

Need I remind you that your professional opinion is still a work in progress?

- Nyla Harper

[supernovaehollay07]

I literally worked on this all day. UGH my hand hurts. Anyways, I wanted to sketch out all the characters for the Mouthwashing Fanfic I am working on. Chapter 1 - 3 is already up on Archine of your Own, the title is 'Ways of Seeing'

Anyways, here is the 10 man crew that will be manning the Sleipnir freighter. We have:

Tulpar Crew:

Captain Grant Curly

Co-Pilot Jimmy Zare

Engineer / Mechanic Harold Swansea

Medic Anya Musume

Intern Daisuke Juarez

Kelpie Crew:

Captain Sean Patel

Co-Pilot Blue

Engineer Harvey Sullivan "Sully"

Medic Fiona Ryder

Security Officer Lockhart

I will be doing some additional art and posts featuring a relationship chart to show the different relationship dynamics between everyone.

I will also be making a straw page for peeps to ask questions or do doodles together. ANYWAYS

Enjoy my hyperfixation with me while it lasts.

[therealslimshakespeare]

IM SORRY DID U SAY YOURE WORKING ON A FIC ABOUT “COP BIG DADDY ELVIS”?!?- please tell us more because this sounds like the greatest thing ever 😭

I did, Mon ami, I did indeed…welcome to the demented 2009, sweaty and non famous cop AU that @eliseinmemphis and myself cooked up in our feral yearnings one night.

Edit: it’s here

Allow me to lay a bit of the setting for us all, and maybe even throw in a few lines from the draft below.

Life is insular when you’ve been born and raised in a trailer park. A little El Paso suburb was never a thriving metropolis, what with its gas stations and dollar stores on the way to nothingness in the desert, but the recession didn’t help none. Your dreams of buying a car that might actually make it above 120 mph and not guzzle your wages in gas is a far off dream when you learn from officer Presley that your entrepreneuring father has been incarnated for racketeering across in Juarez. It’s a shame, a damn shame but it hardly throws a wrench in your life, you were already used to making it however you could. When workin’ at the trucker’s club turns into something a lil more illegal and Elvis has his morning waffle ruined by Joe Esposito yacking about the powers of your pink tongue…he feels a little responsible for leaving you without a father figure. He’s got top notch swamp coolers in his trailer, plenty of food and tiger figurines out front -and he’s got an interest in fast things, just like you.

You could do worse than shack up with such a fella; not that he’s offerin’ but you can tell by the flicker in his eye and the smirk of his lips that he’s as susceptible as the next guy watching you on the pole. Except this sweet, world weary cynic just might screw your gooey insides up worse than any threat or ogle from another man.

Snippet:

“Well, well officer Presley, finally got persnickety about laws, have ya?” you observed to yourself with a grin as you watched the handsome man swagger towards you along the white line in your side mirror, tugging at his pants as he neared, trying to shimmy the article of clothing a little higher but is impeded by his belt, stopped by his sizable belly, his holster and buckle sitting under the bulge of it.

Your mouth watered. It had been a year or two since you saw him last. He was always built, intimidating to all the stupid rascals he keeps in line along the border, but now he had become outright fat and his khaki shirt pulled apart between each button. Yet when he came up to your window, that little boy grin was still gracing one of the most exquisite faces known to man, and his voice was tender and playful when he greeted you, just as you once recalled. You could see his sweaty hair, matted on his chest and belly between the gaps, his underarms had massive pit stains, doubly apparent thanks to the light color of his police uniform.

Your smile had something of the she-wolf in it as you greeted him, sniffing the air in hopes of catching a whiff as he leaned on your window frame, nearly crowding you from outside. “Hey Miss Sweet Cheeks,” he greets, “you know why ya been pulled over?”

“Haven't got a clue, officer.” You stated the truth and enjoyed the way his title rolled off your tongue in a bantering way. It was easy.

Officer, officer. Somebody important and authoritative. No sir, yes sir, Officer.

His left eyebrow quirked and you wondered what he looked like at twenty five, how devastating that expression would have been before his wound and his meds and the water retention. Whatever power it may have once held, it holds nothing to this slightly bemused, slightly cynical world weariness that shows in his every expression now, that had a twitch of an eyebrow making you feel a fool. “You’re goin’ seventy in a forty five, Miss.” his tone was patient even as his face suggested he’d like to tan your hide for being so reckless. “Reckless endangerment of others, and yourself,” he quoted sternly, “it ain’t no small matter and I don’t countenance it on my highway.”

Gosh, you just loved it when he laid claim to government property like highways and interstates. It helped you smile meekly at him and nod.

“Sorry officer, I got lax.” You purred, batting your eyes and you could see the heavy flap of their coal coated weight in your periphery. “I’ve seen you lettin’ me flyby on the interstate. I guess I thought…”

[bronx-bomber87]

Good evening wonderful fandom! SO glad to have a new ep to do some quick thoughts on. I missed our babies. As stated few weeks back the gif library is a turd right after an ep. So quick hand made ones till summer. Off we go.

6x04 Training Day

Lucy saying she’s fine as she consistently does all her fidgety tells screaming she is anything but LOL Tim picking this up too love it. Smart man saying what he does about “being fine.” They cute with her saying 'Does he want her to be upset?' He's so good at making her laugh in this moments. Makes my heart happy. Till John appears.... Way to jump in on their moment Nolan. Of course the man makes it worse…She was laughing before you got there John…Tim's face when she takes off. Like if I could punch you Nolan...

Oh Lucy... Definitely hitting her hard she’s still a patrol officer. Tasks that didn't used to bother her as much are. Ugh my girl. This is rough. You are anything but fine my friend…Poor Lucy last thing she needs is more alone time with her thoughts at a scene that'll take forever to wrap up. Not only that but babysitting puke…I think our girl is headed toward quite spiral that has yet to happen. Tim is gonna do his best to keep her sane but I have a gut feeling we are headed there. I could be wrong but just how I'm feeling.

Lucy killing me softly watching Juarez and Nolan get recognized on Tv. Mmm I am loving Tim coming to pick her up yum yum. Lucy mentioning almost getting that call... Damn nothing going her way today. Or lately... Think her only sanity at this point is that man next to her. Tim of course is picking up on it immediately knowing her mood is linked to Primm. Knows his girl so well. Stating she was hoping could've proved him wrong with catching a call like that.

I love this scene. Lucy telling Tim about her crappy day and Tim giving her perspective. Saying she could be the big hero tomorrow. Not only that but making her smile as well. Look at him building her up like it’s second nature. Cause it is. Damn I love these two. Him basically leaning on her and bumping her shoulder with his telling her not to be too greedy hehe That Lucy smile of his loud and proud. Making her beam as well. She loves this man next to her so much.

Oh my lord this entire scene had my heart racing. What an absolute BAMF our girl is holy hell. Tim would've lost his mind seeing this. Hell I did. I screamed when she got hit and my dog ran from the room LOL The looks on Harper/Lopez's face when she went down oh my goodness. The absolute panic on their faces. Right there with you ladies. This was a huge risk she took to prove herself. One like I said Tim would’ve lost his mind at seeing.

Lucy was definitely being the big hero this entire scene oh my lord my heart was pounding. What a way to impress Harper and Lopez but give me a damn heart attack. That scene in the ally with the brother..... I was worried when he didn’t stop she was gonna have to shoot him. Giving me 5x19 flashbacks. I think she is going to CARRY this with her for a long time. Being an empath is no joke. Our girl one of the finest even at her own detriment.

I was hoping for some insanely worried Tim and they DELIVERED. Like that man couldn't breathe till he set eyes on his girl. Oh my damn lord. The way he ran to get to her. Man on a mission doesn’t even stop to check in with Grey. By-passes them completely. Only wants to get to Lucy. His hand on her head had me reeling everyone. It's the gentle way he caresses her hair I'm squeeing. Also his non stop touching.

Trying to ground her by letting her know he was there emotionally and physically. Rubbing his thumb up and down her her collar bone. The sweet squeezes. I'm a puddle.. The way this man has transformed because of her still blows my mind. The sweet comforting touches. I'm losing my mind. His adorable attempt at a joke telling her she didn’t have to take the hero suggestion literally. Ugh Lucy breaking my heart into million pieces. Saying she doesn’t feel like one.

Melissa you deserve all the awards madam I’m crying. Her little pre cry when he says they'll deal with it my damn heart. Killing me. I love how Tim's hands have not left her for 90 percent of this moment. Protective Tim was very much present in this scene with Wes. Grey was too being like dude let us take the win. Feral Tim having Wes back it off for tomorrow. Wade being the sweet man he is says that's ok. Lucy is going to be anxious about all this. I would be stressed about him succumbing to his injuries now that Wes said that. Read the room Evers lol

Gah Tim telling her let’s go home. Then we get another glorious hug where he encases her in his arms. Protecting her emotionally from this situation. Lucy burying herself in his embrace. Wrapping her arm around him tightly to ground herself again. She needed to fall apart in his arms before they left. THIS IS SOO GOOD. Annnnnnd another head kiss I’m dead I am writing these thoughts from the grave.

Oh my word this season has delivered in spades both friggin crap. I’m out of breath from this episode in the best way. Also whoever does the music needs a raise I say it time and time again. But that song was perfection against the backdrop of this final scene. Was telling D earlier I already need to change my header to it.

I love this hug SO much it's insane. Sure I'll write a novel on it this summer. Having everything that's going on plus this I think our girl is hurtling toward a breakdown of some sort. Some actual UC/detective feelings coming with it. Cause our girl is anything but fine. I'm so excited to see where we go from here S6 has every bit worth the wait. I cannot wait till next week

~~

Side notes -non Chenford

Yay Aaron progress in therapy. Back to active duty ha his heart rate going up for her too cute.

We finally get Nyla’s new hair style. Loving it

Adore the idea of Tim being one to take Aaron back out. Ain’t no one better.

Mmmh love hard ass TO Tim in metro uniform yummy. Does things to me. Aaron thinking he got this TRAIN but there is panic there.

‘Train is leaving the station officer Thorsen.’ Mmmm He does impress Tim for this first call. Yay Aaron haha

Giving Aaron only 9 minutes before bouncing him back to being a rookie oh my lord Timothy. I love you so much.

I do adore watching Tim watching Aaron do well. I’m sure there is a part of him that misses being a teacher. You can see it in these scenes. The pride and excitement he gets when Aaron is doing well. Aaron doing little fist pump and Tim shaking his head I’m dying.

Also How can Tim make leaning against a chair look so sexy? I want to be the chair he is leaning against in this scene with the wife LOL

Glad he passed Tim's TRAIN test. Glad they took their time getting him back out there. Was realistic

Feel free to comment any and all thoughts. I welcome them. See you all next week!

[b0ng05]

Celina Juarez x Fem Reader

---------------------------------------------------------

Aura Pt. 2

-----------------------------------------

-----------------------------------------

Word Count: 1003

Prompt:

"God. I missed that."

"Missed what?"

"Your aura. I- it um- it sounds kind of dorky, but your aura lights up the room."

Summary: What happens when John Nolan and Lucy Chen notice some similarities between their rookies? What if they decided to play matchmaker?

Master list/Request list

Part 1.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Celina staring didn’t go unnoticed by the training officers, in fact they were hiding in plain sight watching on from afar.

Y/n was sitting at a table not too far from Celina, the distance was merely teasing Celina’s racing heart more. The temptation to approach and-

“Hey, Officer Juarez, right?” A sweet voice snapped Celina out of her trance.

Celina’s eyes widen as she sees that same sweet aura accessorized with an even sweeter smile. It takes Celina a good second to register what was happening.

“Oh! Yes- Yes I am. I’m Celina Juarez, it’s nice to meet you.” Celina rushed out feeling slightly embarrassed at her late response.

“I’m Y/n Y/l/n, can I sit here?” Y/n asks, with a soft smile gracing her lips.

“Y-yeah, of course,” Celina replied.

Her heart thumped in her chest as the aura was now closer than before. The vibrant pinks, purples, and greens painting a wonderful scene before her. It felt like a bright light that filled a dark void. A scene so beautiful that it makes the room feel lighter.

“So, how’s your day going so far?” Y/n asked, with that lovely smile. She raised her hand to take a sip of her coffee as she looked on curiously.

“I- uh, my day is going pretty well. What about you?” Celina says feeling a bit flustered at the attention of this woman.

“Mine is going well. You’re Nolan’s rookie, right?” Y/n smiles, making Celina’s heart race.

“Yeah, and you’re a transfer from SDPD,” Celina states, her eyes lighting up a bit as she talks to the woman.

“You’d be correct. So, gorgeous and attentive? I like that.” Y/n teases, a small smirk tugging the corner of her lips.

Celina blushes deeper, letting out a small nervous giggle. She felt embarrassed at the sound of her laugh, but couldn’t help but smile at the compliment.

From a distance, Nolan, Angela, Nyla, and Lucy all watched the interaction. When they heard the awkward high pitched giggle Celina let out, the women all looked at each other with furrowed brows trying not to let out a laugh. Nolan just looked confused, having never heard Celina laugh like that.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Three months have passed and Celina has gotten a lot closer with Y/n. Celina’s crush didn’t fade, but in fact grew stronger. As Celina got to know her, not only was her aura beautiful, but her personality and her heart were just as stunning. Celina would never admit it to her coworkers, but she had been keeping a rose quartz with her in her pocket since she met Y/n. Hoping the crystal would indirectly influence her interactions with the woman.

Cop cars and SUVs surrounded an old warehouse. Its metal walls rusted and weakened to a fault. Its garage-like door opens revealing the secrets hidden within. Around twenty men hid around the building, some behind corners, and others ducking behind crates. In view were crates filled with yet to be identified narcotics and weapons.

The interior looked like a maze. Every turn is unknown. The horde of cops surround the building, slowly inching closer to begin the full bust. The men in the warehouse unknowingly walk around, guarding the building armed with weapons.

Or that’s what Celina had heard. She was told to stay back on desk duty today, she was currently filling out a report of a stolen bike for a 13 year old kid. Normally she wouldn’t entirely mind desk duty, but today marked the 8th or 9th day in a row that Y/n was sick with covid. Not that Celina was counting the days.... She totally was.

So Celina didn’t have any light to brighten the boring existence of desk duty. She didn’t have anything to do after the kid left with a copy of his bike report. She sat down on one of the desk chairs and let out a small sigh. Her deep brown eyes watching the station doors, hoping for something to busy her mind.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Celina sighed as she entered the station. She immediately went to the breakroom to get coffee before anything else. Her eyes don’t really look up to meet anyone else’s as she heads for the coffee pot, but she pauses when she sees someone in front of the coffee pot.

She moves to sit at the table while she waits but she stops in her tracks. She sees a familiar light flash. She turns her head back towards whoever was at the coffee pot. Green, pink and purple fill her vision.

“God. I missed that.” Celina muttered as she stared on, a soft smile gracing her lips.

“Missed what?” Y/n asked as she turned around to face her, a smile teasing the corner of her mouth.

“Your aura. I- It- um- it sounds kind of dorky, but your aura lights up the room.” Celina admits, her hand rubbing the back of her neck as she sheepishly blushes.

“So, we can add charming to the list of things I like about you.” Y/n says as she blushes and smiles at Celina.

Celina looks back at her with a flustered smile as she moves closer to Y/n grabbing a paper coffee cup.

“Oh yeah? How long is that list getting?” Celina teases, a small smirk on her lips. She glances at Y/n as she pours herself some coffee.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Y/n says, her tone playful as leans her elbow on the counter, passing Celina the coffee creamer.

Celina’s heart races as their fingers brush together. Her smile getting a bit brighter, the electric touch felt like it gave her more energy than the coffee would. They both look into each other’s eyes, smiling like total dorks.

“Oh I would definitely love to know.” Lucy pipes up from the doorway of the breakroom, a grin plastered on her face.

“I would as well.” Nolan smirks, raising his hand from where he sits in a breakroom chair.

Celina and Y/n blush deeper as they glance at each other.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[prettiestlovergirl]

❝ REQUESTS !

" late night devil, put your hands on me "

disclaimers ༊彡⬭ 𓈒  I

✪ please check my rules before you request anything! and please read these disclaimers, if you are in violation of any rules, you will be deleted and/or blocked.

✪ please make sure you have your age in your bio/ pinned on your account! i do not interact with minors!!

✪ there is no guarantee that i will write what you've requested! i do not always have inspiration for things, so please bear with me and PLEASE do not message me/harass me about whether or not i saw your message.

✪ smut is my preferred genre but i am definitely open to writing/responding to other genres! i'm a whore but i love fluff as much as the next girl!

✪ if you want a part two of something, you MUST give me an idea for it!! could be small, could be fully thought out, doesn't matter to me, but there MUST be something i can go off of.

✪ below i have a loooooong list of characters i'll write for, if you see a character you like but is not on the list, please feel free to reach out! i will let you know whether or not i will add them to the list xx

characters i'm willing to write for 𖼐꒱࿐ ִ I

✦ luke castellan ✦ coriolanus snow ✦ sejanus plinth ✦ finnick odair ✦ peeta mellark ✦ anakin skywalker ✦ peter parker ✦ jj maybank ✦ rafe cameron ✦ tim bradford ✦ wesley evers ✦ john nolan ✦ jake peralta ✦ barry allen ✦ james potter ✦ remus lupin ✦ sirius black ✦ tom riddle ✦ mattheo riddle ✦ theodore nott ✦ ares (from pjo) ✦ spencer reid ✦ aaron hotchner ✦ matt simmons ✦ luke alvez ✦ will lamontagne jr ✦ tony stark ✦ miguel o'hara ✦ steve rogers ✦ peter quill ✦ scott lang ✦ harry potter ✦ ron weasley ✦ fred weasley ✦ bill weasley ✦ charlie weasley ✦ percy weasley ✦ george weasley ✦ aaron thorsen ✦ anthony bridgerton ☆ benedict bridgerton ☆ harry hook (ouat) ✦ alex claremont diaz ✦ cardan greenbriar ✦ manny (abbott elementary) ✦ sally jackson ✦ lucy chen ✦ celina juarez ✦ hermione granger ✦ katniss everdeen ✦ johanna mason ✦ padme amidala ✦ sarah cameron ✦ angela lopez ✦ nyla harper ✦ amy santiago ✦ rosa diaz ✦ lily evans ✦ marlene mckinnon ✦ luna lovegood ✦ ginny weasley ✦ fleur delacour ✦ emily prentiss ✦ jennifer jareau ✦ elle greenaway ✦ emma swan ✦ natasha romanoff ✦ yelena belova ✦ kate bishop ✦ carol danvers ✦ wanda maximoff ✦ jude duarte ✦ prettiestlovergirl (fantasize about me, baby <3)

definitely into ༊彡⬭ 𓈒  I

☆ oral fixation ☆ infidelity kink ☆ size kink ☆ brat/brat taming kink ☆ face fucking ☆ tit fucking ☆ thigh riding ☆ daddy/mommy content ☆ domination ☆ sadism ☆ breeding kink ☆ masochism ☆ exhibitionism ☆ squirting ☆ degrading ☆ dirty talk ☆ cum swapping ☆ dacryphilia ☆ overstimulation ☆ gagging ☆ praise edging ☆ biting ☆ marking ☆ cne ☆ dubcon ☆ coercion ☆ breath play ☆ impact play ☆ anal play ☆ legal age gap ☆ threesomes ☆ brother's best friend ☆ best friend's brother ☆ daddy x princess ☆ step-cest ☆ legal age gap ☆ dom x sub ☆ gangbang ☆ bareback/ cream pies ☆ being shared ☆ free use ☆ orgasm denial ☆ brat x brat tamer ☆ knife play ☆ corruption virgin! reader ☆ bimbo! reader ☆ office sex ☆ mean! reader ☆ hair pulling ☆ dark content ☆ fratboy! character ☆ hand kink ☆ dumbification ☆ nicknames: mami, mamas, mama, ma, pretty girl, babe, baby, sweetheart, angel ☆

sometimes into ༊彡⬭ 𓈒  I

☆ somnophilia ☆ olfactophilia ☆ piss kink ☆ arm kink ☆ dry humping ☆ virgin! character ☆ best friend! character ☆ kidnapping kink ☆ thigh fucking ☆ sub! character ☆ sex toys ☆ period sex ☆ orgy ☆ drunk sex ☆ angst ☆ fluff ☆ sex pollen ☆ under the table ☆ noncon play ☆ polyamory ☆ predator/prey kink ☆ bondage ☆ sensory deprivation ☆ fake relationship ☆ cuckhold ☆ pet play ☆ cockwarming ☆ nicknames: babydoll, doll, honey, hon ☆

not into ༊彡⬭ 𓈒  I

☆ tentacles ☆ age regression ☆ professor x student ☆ childhood bedroom ☆ self-harm ☆ suicide ☆ ai ☆ pedophilia ☆ incest ☆ underage characters ☆ race play ☆ race exclusive features ☆ eating disorders ☆ depression ☆ getting caught masturbating and moaning out a name ☆ financial domination ☆ scat ☆ gay for pay ☆ age play ☆ wax play ☆ pegging ☆ feet content ☆ food play ☆ male! reader ☆

[renegadesstuff]

Photos promo for 6x08, “Punch Card” 🔥

[workingclasshistory]

On this day, 28 January 1917, Carmelita Torres, a 17-year-old Mexican maid who worked in the United States, refused to take the mandatory gasoline bath given to day labourers at the border, and convinced 30 other trolley passengers to join her. Her protest spread in what became known as the bath riots. Torres was one of many workers who crossed the border between Juarez and El Paso each day. In the name of public health, Mexican workers were frequently subjected to degrading and humiliating treatment. They had to strip naked, bathe, undergo a toxic gasoline bath, and have their clothes steamed. The stated aim of the programme was to kill lice, which can spread typhus. However, it was not applied to everyone crossing the border: just working class Mexicans. In addition to gasoline being poisonous, it was also a deadly fire risk. A group of prisoners in El Paso being treated with gasoline were burned to death in an accidental fire. Furthermore, US health workers were secretly photographing naked Mexican women. On January 28, anger at the practice finally exploded, and within a few hours Torres had amassed a crowd of several thousand mostly women protesters. They blocked all traffic and trolleys into El Paso. They pelted immigration officers with rocks and bottles when they try to disperse them, and when US and then Mexican troops arrived they received the same treatment. The riots were eventually suppressed by the soldiers, and Torres herself was arrested. This appeared to have the effect of discouraging future protests. The enforced bathing and fumigation of Mexican workers with toxic chemicals like gasoline, and later DDT and Zyklon B, continued until the 1950s. The use of Zyklon B at the border appealed to scientists in Nazi Germany, who in the late 1930s began using the agent at borders and in concentration camps for delousing. Although notoriously they later used it to exterminate millions of people in the Holocaust. https://www.facebook.com/workingclasshistory/photos/a.1819457841572691/2196701533848318/?type=3

[karihighman]

More from The Rookie @ SDCC 2024 ⬆️

[ralfmaximus]

Here's the complete list of DHS flagged search terms. Don't use any of these on social media to avoid having the 3-letter agencies express interest in your activities!

DHS & Other Agencies

Department of Homeland Security (DHS)

Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA)

Coast Guard (USCG)

Customs and Border Protection (CBP)

Border Patrol

Secret Service (USSS)

National Operations Center (NOC)

Homeland Defense

Immigration Customs Enforcement (ICE)

Agent

Task Force

Central Intelligence Agency (CIA)

Fusion Center

Drug Enforcement Agency (DEA)

Secure Border Initiative (SBI)

Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI)

Alcohol Tobacco and Firearms (ATF)

U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services (CIS)

Federal Air Marshal Service (FAMS)

Transportation Security Administration (TSA)

Air Marshal

Federal Aviation Administration (FAA)

National Guard

Red Cross

United Nations (UN)

Domestic Security

Assassination

Attack

Domestic security

Drill

Exercise

Cops

Law enforcement

Authorities

Disaster assistance

Disaster management

DNDO (Domestic Nuclear Detection Office)

National preparedness

Mitigation

Prevention

Response

Recovery

Dirty Bomb

Domestic nuclear detection

Emergency management

Emergency response

First responder

Homeland security

Maritime domain awareness (MDA)

National preparedness initiative

Militia

Shooting

Shots fired

Evacuation

Deaths

Hostage

Explosion (explosive)

Police

Disaster medical assistance team (DMAT)

Organized crime

Gangs

National security

State of emergency

Security

Breach

Threat

Standoff

SWAT

Screening

Lockdown

Bomb (squad or threat)

Crash

Looting

Riot

Emergency Landing

Pipe bomb

Incident

Facility

HAZMAT & Nuclear

Hazmat

Nuclear

Chemical Spill

Suspicious package/device

Toxic

National laboratory

Nuclear facility

Nuclear threat

Cloud

Plume

Radiation

Radioactive

Leak

Biological infection (or event)

Chemical

Chemical burn

Biological

Epidemic

Hazardous

Hazardous material incident

Industrial spill

Infection

Powder (white)

Gas

Spillover

Anthrax

Blister agent

Exposure

Burn

Nerve agent

Ricin

Sarin

North Korea

Health Concern + H1N1

Outbreak

Contamination

Exposure

Virus

Evacuation

Bacteria

Recall

Ebola

Food Poisoning

Foot and Mouth (FMD)

H5N1

Avian

Flu

Salmonella

Small Pox

Plague

Human to human

Human to ANIMAL

Influenza

Center for Disease Control (CDC)

Drug Administration (FDA)

Public Health

Toxic

Agro Terror

Tuberculosis (TB)

Agriculture

Listeria

Symptoms

Mutation

Resistant

Antiviral

Wave

Pandemic

Infection

Water/air borne

Sick

Swine

Pork

Strain

Quarantine

H1N1

Vaccine

Tamiflu

Norvo Virus

Epidemic

World Health Organization (WHO and components)

Viral Hemorrhagic Fever

E. Coli

Infrastructure Security

Infrastructure security

Airport

CIKR (Critical Infrastructure & Key Resources)

AMTRAK

Collapse

Computer infrastructure

Communications infrastructure

Telecommunications

Critical infrastructure

National infrastructure

Metro

WMATA

Airplane (and derivatives)

Chemical fire

Subway

BART

MARTA

Port Authority

NBIC (National Biosurveillance Integration Center)

Transportation security

Grid

Power

Smart

Body scanner

Electric

Failure or outage

Black out

Brown out

Port

Dock

Bridge

Canceled

Delays

Service disruption

Power lines

Southwest Border Violence

Drug cartel

Violence

Gang

Drug

Narcotics

Cocaine

Marijuana

Heroin

Border

Mexico

Cartel

Southwest

Juarez

Sinaloa

Tijuana

Torreon

Yuma

Tucson

Decapitated

U.S. Consulate

Consular

El Paso

Fort Hancock

San Diego

Ciudad Juarez

Nogales

Sonora

Colombia

Mara salvatrucha

MS13 or MS-13

Drug war

Mexican army

Methamphetamine

Cartel de Golfo

Gulf Cartel

La Familia

Reynose

Nuevo Leon

Narcos

Narco banners (Spanish equivalents)

Los Zetas

Shootout

Execution

Gunfight

Trafficking

Kidnap

Calderon

Reyosa

Bust

Tamaulipas

Meth Lab

Drug trade

Illegal immigrants

Smuggling (smugglers)

Matamoros

Michoacana

Guzman

Arellano-Felix

Beltran-Leyva

Barrio Azteca

Artistics Assassins

Mexicles

New Federation

Terrorism

Terrorism

Al Queda (all spellings)

Terror

Attack

Iraq

Afghanistan

Iran

Pakistan

Agro

Environmental terrorist

Eco terrorism

Conventional weapon

Target

Weapons grade

Dirty bomb

Enriched

Nuclear

Chemical weapon

Biological weapon

Ammonium nitrate

Improvised explosive device

IED (Improvised Explosive Device)

Abu Sayyaf

Hamas

FARC (Armed Revolutionary Forces Colombia)

IRA (Irish Republican Army)

ETA (Euskadi ta Askatasuna)

Basque Separatists

Hezbollah

Tamil Tiger

PLF (Palestine Liberation Front)

PLO (Palestine Libration Organization)

Car bomb

Jihad

Taliban

Weapons cache

Suicide bomber

Suicide attack

Suspicious substance

AQAP (Al Qaeda Arabian Peninsula)

AQIM (Al Qaeda in the Islamic Maghreb)

TTP (Tehrik-i-Taliban Pakistan)

Yemen

Pirates

Extremism

Somalia

Nigeria

Radicals

Al-Shabaab

Home grown

Plot

Nationalist

Recruitment

Fundamentalism

Islamist

Weather/Disaster/Emergency

Emergency

Hurricane

Tornado

Twister

Tsunami

Earthquake

Tremor

Flood

Storm

Crest

Temblor

Extreme weather

Forest fire

Brush fire

Ice

Stranded/Stuck

Help

Hail

Wildfire

Tsunami Warning Center

Magnitude

Avalanche

Typhoon

Shelter-in-place

Disaster

Snow

Blizzard

Sleet

Mud slide or Mudslide

Erosion

Power outage

Brown out

Warning

Watch

Lightening

Aid

Relief

Closure

Interstate

Burst

Emergency Broadcast System

Cyber Security

Cyber security

Botnet

DDOS (dedicated denial of service)

Denial of service

Malware

Virus

Trojan

Keylogger

Cyber Command

2600

Spammer

Phishing

Rootkit

Phreaking

Cain and abel

Brute forcing

Mysql injection

Cyber attack

Cyber terror

Hacker

China

Conficker

Worm

Scammers

Social media

SOCIAL MEDIA?!

[hausofmamadas]

Until The Day You Don't Come Back

⁂

Pairing: Andrea Nuñez & David Barrón (+ some implied Dinarrón)

Prompt: "All we have are our choices" and Crossroads - for @narcosfandomdiscord Narcovember - #14 Book of Decisions Decisions Decisions

Word count: ≈ 4.2K

Note: shoutout to the homie @rerorero-my-cherry whose discord tonteria, talking about skipping off to Mexico to escape fascism somehow sparked the idea for this fic and I can't even explain how or why😂

TWs: Canon-consistent violence, descriptions of violent acts, smoking

There was no possible universe in which he was brought here by conscience. So naturally, she was dying to know the real reason they were meeting now under this bridge... Andrea gets a mysterious call from a potential new informant one day with information on notoriously corrupt politician and money launderer, Carlos Hank Gonzalez. She agrees to a late-night meeting on the US side of the border, so she can get all the tea, and boy is that tea scalding. (This ended up entirely too long but here you go world.)

⁂

Andrea checks her watch. Almost midnight. The road is quiet, cars passing by every fifteen minutes. The thinnest nail clipping of the moon is out and her informant is over a half an hour late. The lone street light flickering on the overpass above feels like a doomsday clock urging her to cut her losses and go home.

Really, loitering at this fork in the road under a highway bridge isn’t the most sensible idea, not when people were being gunned down in the streets in broad daylight and the cartels were using the bodies of their victims to send telegrams to each other. At least she had enough sense to insist the meeting take place on the US side of the border where her death would at least be investigated should things end badly. Just a few miles from Tecate, she’d found an unmonitored stretch of border the gringos hadn’t fenced off yet a few months ago and had been using it to touch base with informants.

It’s for this reason Salgado is always telling her she’s a clever girl with no sense. And also that if she’s senseless enough not to listen to him, as La Voz’s editor and her boss, he makes no bones about using it to his advantage. And he had - a series of groundbreaking stories about the hipódromo, Carlos Hank Gonzalez, and the AFO were enough to prove her senselessness enough of an asset, no matter how much of a danger it posed. Until the day you don’t come back, he’d note ominously.

But if not her, then who? The job was easier to do if you knew you were already dead. She did. She also didn’t think about it too much. Plus, this lead was too big to pass up. The call with the tip-off had come directly to her desk, an anonymous insider allegedly high enough in the AFO to know all about Gonzalez’s dealings not just with the Arellano family but with Amado Carrillo Fuentes in Juarez; news she wasn’t yet privy to but that made enough sense to catch her attention. And that’s how she ends up on these back-country, dirt roads in the middle of the night.

Of course, she knows it could be a trap too - she’s senseless, not stupid. She knows full well this little rendezvous could be no more than someone making good on a bounty for the head of any journalist from La Voz. She couldn’t even bring herself to revel in the I told you so, when the street edict came down from the AFO after Salgado enacted the policy of removing writers’ names from the bylines, even if she did tell him it was a short-term solution to a long term problem. It was even shorter than they bargained for because within a week of implementing the policy, the AFO had branded anyone who came in and out of that office fair game. Normally she wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to retroactively gloat, but this time it didn’t seem fair. Salgado did his best to protect them and it earned the whole staff a scarlet letter. But who’s fault was that really? So she left well enough alone, like she never had an opinion on the matter to begin with.

So yeah, the prospect of this being a trap had occurred to her. More than once. And the longer she sits here, leaning against the hood of her station wagon, checking her watch, the more the possibility keeps rearing its ugly head. Right on cue, the sound of footsteps crunching on gravel has her going for the handgun in her waistband and spinning around to greet the void of what she hoped would be empty space under the bridge.

“Hello? Who’s there?” She does her best to breathe, keep calm, as she anchors the gun in both hands, aiming for the shadows.“Dejate ver. Muestrate si no quieres tomarte una bala en el culo.”

A pair of raised hands are the first things to emerge followed by a modestly dressed man with a clean-cut crop of dark hair, dark eyes, and a sharply drawn mustache that gives him the look of a French nobleman caught in the wrong timeline. Her stomach drops several floors and liquifies into a puddle on the ground as it sinks in, just who he is. She’d give anything not to but there’s no eradicating the sense of recognition.

So this is it then. The end of the line.

She’d pictured it just like this. In fact the scene is so familiar, she feels the distinct impulse to laugh at just how much of a cliche she’s about to be. Because as much as she can acknowledge the possibility - meeting a grisly, undignified end, painted somewhere on the streets of a city she’s fought for and loved, just another macabre telegram - she’s also struck by the kind of shame that accompanies shattered hubris. That, somewhere along the way, she mistakenly bought into a brand of exceptionalism she always hoped to avoid, one might call it downright American. Rationally, she’s known the odds, even accepted them. And yet somehow it was still something that only happened to other people.

What a fool. She’d kick herself if she wasn’t about to die. Or maybe … How fast could this guy move? How quick could his hands be? Maybe she’d turn her gun on herself, get a shot off before he could get his out. Take things on her own terms. Not that she can even see a gun. But she doesn’t need to, to know it’s there, tucked in his waistband right at the base of his back.

After all, he is the AFO’s top sicario, David Barrón Corona. One of the most lethal men in Tijuana. Maybe all of Mexico. She’s only ever seen him at a distance, through a telephoto lens or in grainy photographs developed thereafter, but she could recite a list of his exploits from memory like a kid in some perverse spelling bee: the shootout at Christine’s, the airport massacre, the assassination of Ocampo, the shootout at the Belmont cafe. The man’s resume is a mile long and filled with nothing but death.

In her experience, meeting monsters like this tended to be unsettling for how boring and anticlimactic they always seemed to be. He appears no different. Just a man walking on two legs, with two eyes to see, and those eyes aren’t even crazed or rage-filled or brimming with hate. Whenever she came face to face with someone like him, it tended to incite within her a twinge of irritation that they couldn’t do everyone the courtesy of coming with some kind of warning label.

One of her hands drops and she walks toward him, gun drawn as she cocks the hammer and fires a warning shot into the ground next to him with an ease that surprises even her. He barely flinches. It’s obviously not his first rodeo. Which, yes, is to be expected but the stillness of him is still downright chilling.

His posture is relaxed, hands up in an effort to suspend hostilities. She’s decidedly unmoved in her hostility.

“Y’know,” he attempts to reassure her, “if I wanted to kill you, ya estarías en el piso, desangrándote en la tierra,” but it looms more like a threat.

It catches her off guard though, how much softer, gentler his voice is than she expected. It’s almost enough to disarm her entirely until she remembers all the coroner’s reports and crime scene photos she’d come across in her research. His handiwork. Well-executed executions, meted out with such quiet indifference he could’ve been telling them a bedtime story. This is who she’s dealing with.

“O sí? Pues soy yo ya quien tiene la pistola. So start talking, cabrón antes que te dé por el culo,” she flicks her wrist, pointing the gun barrel at the gravel disturbed by the first shot, “with another one of those.”

He chuckles, “Usually when people, civvies especially, say that,” making sure to keep his hands up, careful not to make any sudden movements, “no les creo. Pero a ti? A ti te creo.”

“Arre. So, if you’re really not here to kill me, fuiste tu con quien hablé por el telefono?”

He gives a stiff nod.

Andrea cocks her head to one side, examining him in the flickering street lamp light. He’d be handsome were it not for the vacuum in his eyes, no warmth, no life, yet here he was, breathing and blinking and talking all the same. There was no possible universe in which he was brought here by conscience. With what she knew, he was likely immune to that particular plague. So naturally, she was dying to know the real reason they were meeting now under this bridge, at this dirt crossroads, near the dirt town of Tecate.

“Do I, uh, have to keep these,” he looks right, then left, at each of his arms, “up the whole time?”

She considers the risk for a moment, ultimately deciding to let him but refuses to drop her gun. His hands come swinging down by his sides apparently unbothered by the fact that he remains caught in her crosshairs. Yeah, clearly not his first rodeo. Not even his second. Or third.

He meets her eyes but says nothing and the silence starts to feel like a third party in the conversation that just won’t shut up. Andrea taps her foot impatiently but he doesn’t seem to get the memo that this is the part where he’s supposed to do the talking.

“Alright.” She exhales crossly, rolling her eyes. “What did you want to talk about? On the phone you said something about Hank and Juarez?”

“That’s right.” Barrón takes a few steps closer, hands now clasped together at his waist, no more troubled by the gun than when he was further away. “He’s been working with Amado since he took over. Cleaning his money.”

“I don’t understand. Wasn’t he already doing that for the Arellanos?”

He nods.

“Wait, but that doesn’t make any sense. Why would he align himself with warring plazas?”

Looking down, Barrón shrugs, “That’s above my pay grade,” kicking a rock across the dirt, dust trailing behind it like a tiny, terrestrial shooting star. “I’m not that high on the food chain.”

She regards him skeptically, brows crinkling.

His tongue clicks against the roof of his mouth, “I can only guess,” seeming to take the cue this time. “He’s probably too high-profile for either plaza to fuck with, so big homie can afford to do business with both. But I doubt Sr. Kingpin Accountant accounted for the heat it’d bring back on him with all the, uh– y’know, scrutiny.”

Grinding her teeth, Andrea snorts. Scrutiny was both a succinct and delightfully vanilla way of saying, ‘global attention thanks to all the bodies of the streets.’ But the implications of Hank laundering money for Juarez were big. He might be playing the plazas off each other, biding his time until a victor emerges, one he’ll be all too happy to chuck right under the bus the minute the political machine decides it needs to offer up its next sacrificial lamb to the gringos. Standing there, trying to put all these new pieces together, Andrea suddenly remembers the pack of cigarettes in the pocket of her flannel and wishes she’d thought to smoke one before they’d started talking. She can’t afford the distraction of lighting one up now, what with having to keep the gun in place.

“Alright, so he’s doing business with both plazas. How the hell do you know this? You said it yourself, you’re not that high up on the food chain.”

He seems to bristle at this, throwing her a sideways glance through half-lidded eyes, face overtaken by a dangerous, far-away look that spooks her even more than the gun at his back. “Why would you need to know that to write your little story.”

Interesting. Something personal, perhaps. She’d get it out of him one way or another. But later.

“Well,” she grips the gun even tighter, knuckles going white and she hopes that by keeping her voice level, he can’t sense how scared she is, “it’s not going in an article per se. But for reasons that I hope would be obvious? I can’t identify you as a source. You’ll have to remain anonymous.”

“You don’t gotta do that on my account.”

Practically gagging on disbelief, she manages to sputter out, “For you? What are you kidding?” before regaining her composure. “I mean– well frankly, you’re a criminal, a killer at that, putting a rival cartel in the headlines, so it’s more an issue of self-interest. Now, I know doing something like this does nothing but put you at risk but my readers won’t know that. So, telling me how exactly you found out about all this would lend you more credibility as a source. O sea significa que podemos confiar más en lo que me has dicho.”

This seems to wound him privately somehow like he’s taken it worse than the bullet she’d fired. But whatever it stirs in him is gone before she gets a chance to interrogate it further.

No less relentless, it is enough for her to ease up on her delivery. “So do you have proof? Something concrete that I can take back to my editor?”

His hand goes in his pocket and he begins digging around for something. Andrea’s whole body stiffens and she takes a step back, arm straightening to retrain the gun on him more decisively. If he notices, he doesn’t show it as he continues fishing around in his pocket until he finally brings out a few folded documents along with a bag of rolling papers. He takes a pre-rolled cigarette out of the bag, popping it between his lips while reaching out to pass her the documents. A few hesitant steps forward, she lowers the gun slowly snatching the papers from his hands quickly before scurrying back again. Her head bobs up and down between watching him and trying to read what’s on the page in front of her.

“What are these,” she flips through a few pages, “business licenses?”

“Among other things.”

She skims the first document and for the first time she feels like this whole thing might not be a trap. Fixing him with the coldest, most I-will-kill-you stare she can manage, “I’m taking a big risk, doing this. No me hagas arrepentirme o te arrepentiras, lo prometo,” she flicks the safety on and puts the gun in her waistband, in front so he knows she still has easy access.

Bowing his head, Barrón agrees, "Noted," cracking a small smile, something akin to respect or maybe admiration and it’s the first time his face displays any emotion. It puts her a little more at ease.

Both hands now free, Andrea combs through the documents, a few loose, the rest stapled together, some with carbon copy backings, and skims for the highlights - important phrases, dates, places, signatures - until she finds a signature at the bottom of a business license for an aeronautic manufacturing company.

“A shell company,” Barrón confirms her suspicions before they’re even fully formed. “Makes specialty parts for small planes. Like Cessnas.”

She flips to the next page, documents showing ownership stakes in the casino at the hipódromo along with two of the Arellanos’ discotheques. Flipping through the rest, it’s more of the same, SEC and CNBV registrations for shell corporations, licenses for legitimate businesses, and share certificates, none of them bearing Carlos Hank’s name but nonetheless tying him to both Tijuana and Juarez by a signature almost as important: Carolina Vera. His lawyer. She was all over these documents.

Speechless, Andrea’s head rises slowly to look at Barrón. When she said proof, she wasn’t expecting it to be this monumental. The cynic in her kicks up, wondering if it isn’t just a more elaborate trap designed to lull her in a state of submission before the jaws snap shut for good.

“It gets better," he says, examining his zip-o lighter before flicking the top back and forth a few times with his thumb.

Which reminds her, in desperate need of a cigarette, Andrea folds the papers up and sticks them in the back pocket of her jeans and then feverishly digs around the pocket of her shirt for her pack. Once retrieved, she flicks her lighter several times, sparks flying at the end of the cigarette in her mouth, until finally a little bloom of flame appears out of the corner of her eye to light it for her. He's a smooth motherfucker, she'll give him that, although strangely, there was nothing smug about it. He brings it back, cradling the flame with his other hand to light his own. After a first drag, Andrea dips her head back, a cyclone of smoke pouring from her lips while she exhales in relief.

“How,” snapping forward again, she takes another drag before asking, voice thick, each word encased in smoke, “does this get any better?”

“I have another source.”

“What? Who?”

“Cristina Palacios Hodoyan.”

“No me digas." The shock has her nearly wheezing the words and her eyes are wide, almost feral with curiosity. “You know where she is?”

He smirks. “Who do you think hid her?”

“What? So– but wait, so you didn’t—y’know. Her sons?”

Suddenly he can’t meet her eyes and she can’t wipe the image of the bridge from her mind - the row of lifeless bodies strung up, punishment para los soplones, whose biggest crime was usually no more than bearing witness to things she never agreed to see in the first place. That Alex and Alfredo were more involved in the extracurricular activities didn’t change the fact that they were just boys.

Perhaps trying to get a read on Andrea or maybe just hoping to fill the silence, Barrón offers, “Everyone assumed- and for good reason. But that time wasn’t me. I was in San Diego, trying t–”

“Save it.” With one look, she skewers him, eyes narrowed, mouth tight, not here for his bullshit. “Vete alaverga con esa ‘that time.’ How many other times was it you, huh?”

Meeting her eyes again like he recognizes his mistake, he responds matter-of-factly, “Plenty,” head held high, no attempt at contrition, false or otherwise.

Still, she’s expecting him to plead his case, so she waits for the explanation, the mental gymnastics, the cognitive dissonance, the rationalization for every single horrific act of violence wrapped up in that plenty. After standing there, watching each other in silence for who knows how long, she realizes there won’t be any of that. And up sprouts the tiniest kernel of respect that she already hates for being there. But she can’t help it. David Barrón could be called a lot of things but a hypocrite wasn’t one of them. She rolls her eyes because christ, who needs heroes when the bar is this high.

She mumbles to herself, “There’s a fire sale and everything must go,” but before he can voice the look of pure confusion on his face, she’s onto the next question, something tugging at the back of her mind since he first stepped out of the shadows of the overpass. “So, what’s in this for you? Why are you telling me all of this?”

Gaze shifting off to the light polluted horizon, he goes quiet. Eventually he just says, “That’s a big question.”

If this was a television interview, the broadcast would’ve been cut for all the dead air between them but she just waits, hoping he might give her just a little more, something to put this whole bizarre night into perspective.

“It’s just—” he shakes his head, “the way I come up—” putting his smoke to his lips and taking a pull so long, she wonders if maybe the question hasn’t short-circuited him a bit.

“Gettin’ into all this,” he waves his hand around at nothing in particular, a party streamer of smoke left behind its path, “wasn’t really a choice for me. Not like how it is here. Now in this new– whatever. Era. It wasn’t supposed to go this way. We were supposed to legitimize. Climb outta this ditch, not dig it deeper.

“This? What do you mean?”

“The game,” he huffs in a moment of frustration, the only emotion he’s let escape so far. “Used to be no civvies, no bystanders, no regular folk. If you was in the game, you get popped on the street, well okay, you knew what you signed up for. But all this other– truth is, man, I’m just tired. Tired of the game, the life, tired of doing all this shit just to be someone’s second choice.”

It was the most he’d spoken the entire time and she didn’t want to interrupt for fear he’d clam up again and go back to nods and one-word answers, but she’d have to start asking some follow-up questions if he didn’t start putting some names to these pronouns.

“I tried to save him, y’know, for her.” He keeps going, face fixed with a thousand yard stare so vacant and icy, he might’ve had the surface of the moon in his eyes. “But I couldn’t. Maybe I didn’t want to. She knows I tried but maybe she knows that too.”

“Hm.” Crossing her arms, one hip cocked out to the side, Andrea examines the end of her cigarette before holding it off to the side and tapping it with her finger. “So the rumors were true. You and Enedina.”

“I thought it’d be different.” Barrón turns back to her, flashing a nihilistic smirk that reveals how broken he is. “But the things she’s asked me to do,” he shakes his head, “I don’t know. The game ain’t in me no more. And this last one, well—”

“This last one?”

“Your editor. He was greenlit.”

It takes a moment to register. When it finally does, Andrea feels like someone’s pressed pause on reality only to start playing it again in slow motion.

“Y— you mean, my—? uh, Salgado? Ramon?

“Pues, sí.”

“You’re certain?”

“Mhm. My next mark.”

“Hijoueputa,” she mutters. “No es posible.”

Stamping his cigarette out in the dirt with the heel of his wingtip, he nods. “Best believe it.”

“Well— so what? Are you still gonna go after him?” Andrea’s getting more panicked by the second, her fingers finding the grip of her gun.

Chuckling, Barrón puts a hand up in gentle protest, “Nah, chill.”

For some inexplicable reason, she listens to him.“Fine. So, what’re you gonna do then?”

”Something I’ve never done in my whole life.”

“What’s that?”

“Miss.”

Andrea appears to take some comfort in this as her shoulders drop, a breath escaping that she didn’t even know she was holding. Remembering her cigarette, she takes a last drag while noting dryly, “You know, you can never go back.”

A blank look from him is the only response she gets.

“If you do that— y’know, miss. The minute I talk to Cristina, the minute I write this, they’ll probably figure out it’s you. You can never go back.”

Barrón just shakes his head, resigned. “No, ma’am.”

“No? What, no? If they find out you’re my source, they’ll kill you.”

“Of course. I know how they’ll do it too.” He says it with a twinge of pride that reminds Andrea exactly who she’s talking to. “It’ll be someone I know. I’ll see it coming. They’ll want me to see it coming. Cause they know I know.”

Despite this reminder of who he is, what he’s done, she can’t quash that kernel of respect that’s been planted. Even if he wanted to atone, he had enough respect not to insult her by trying to. Nor did he feel sorry for himself that he probably didn’t deserve to. It was a display of accountability she rarely saw from someone as morally bankrupt as he’d had to be. Until now anyway. And this makes her feel, in spite of herself, almost sorry for him. “You’re not scared?”

“Sure. Wouldn’t you be?”

“Well, of course,” she shrugs, twisting the filter of her cigarette until the cherry and remaining tobacco fall out before tossing it behind her. “But I w–“

“But you wouldn’t deserve it. And it’s true, I got it coming. Made my own bed as they say. But I can still be scared. Even if I know, at the end of the day, all we have are our choices.”

Andrea smirks, crossing her arms, looking down at the ground to push some dust around with the toe of her boot, unsure what to say next. When she looks back up, he’s already walking away, hands in his pockets, leisurely like he’s got nowhere to be, back to the shadowy spot under the bridge he came from. She wondered if his car was parked there or somewhere else. Or maybe he’s just some visiting ghost of Christmas past and she’ll wake up from this dream.

”Hey,” she calls out.

Just before he reaches the edge of the void, he spins around on his heels, hands still in his pockets, eyebrows raised, and waits.

“For what it’s worth– well, you do have it coming. But … I hope you find your way to some peace somehow.”

The unexpected happens then. He smiles. But this time it travels up his face all the way to his eyes, lighting them up. It might be as rare as a passing comet. So there are signs of life, after all.

═

taglist: @narcosfandomdiscord, @drabbles-mc, @ladygoatee, @rerorero-my-cherry, @narcolini, @ashlingnarcos, @complete-nonsequitur, @tofuwildcard, @bellinitini, @when-did-this-become-difficult

[1critfailnews]

Public Records Prove that Birkham and Birkham are a National Disgrace: Execution Day Set for Execution by the Executive Office of President Felix Juarez Fitzgerald M Taitague.

Agenda:Executive Order Executed

September 4 before 1pm.

United States Army

United States Air Force

Star Soldier 579.