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"Look, it's something that needs to be discussed in person. I'm coming over."

Before he could respond the dial tone was buzzing in his ear. "Shit! Fernando? Fernando?!"
The boy came into the living room from the kitchen. Sands was glad that his apartment was small. It was easy to memorize he knew where everything was. So he knew when he heard Fernando that the kid was coming from the kitchen; he turned to face him, completely oblivious to the fact that he didn't have his sunglasses on. Fernando had seen it enough times it didn't frighten him.

"When did you get home?"

The kid shifted his weight. "A little bit ago."

"What did you see?" As he spoke he walked towards the kid. Fernando knew that when Sands was like this it was just best to leave him be.

"I didn't see anything." Fernando took Sheldon's hand and positioned it so that it was palm up. He placed his sunglasses in his hand. It took Sands a minute to figure out what was in his hand; he smiled in relief when he realized that it was his shades. Fernando was glad that he had decided to grab Sands' sunglasses. He knew that there was nothing to be afraid of, but it still freaked him out. There was just something mildly disgusting about having to see the holes where Sands' eyes had been. At least with the sunglasses on Fernando could pretend that Sands was just an average blind guy. For a while he could forget what it was like to live in Mexico. He could devote his time to making Sands proud of him by succeeding in school and making sure that Sands had everything he needed.

Sands put his glasses on. " Meyers is coming. Do you remember him?"

Fernando nodded, forgetting that Sands couldn't see him nod and then added "Si. Agente, like you."

Sands nodded. "That's right. He'll be herein a few minutes. I'm going upstairs to change, when he knocks let him in."

"Si." Fernando left the doorway and stepped completely into the living room. He started straightening out the couch.

Sheldon carefully made his way upstairs. He grabbed a pair of jeans off a chair in his room, then made his way into the bathroom. When he tripped over the floor rug he cursed at himself for not remembering to ask Fernando for his cane. Just as he started unbuttoning his jeans there was a knock on the door. He was slightly irritated but answered the door anyway.

"Senor Sands? You want this?"

The folded up came was put in his hand. Sometimes Sheldon wondered how the kid managed to do that to know what he needed sometimes before he did. "Thank you." He took the cane and closed the door again. He went back to the business of cleaning himself up. He shuddered in disgust as he felt himself bleeding. It took all of the will power that he had to keep himself quiet. He hissed through his teeth as the water from the washcloth touched his abused hole.
He wanted to curl into a ball and stay that way until his ass stopped throbbing. He knew that wasn't an option. He finished dressing, snapped his cane together and opened the door. He walked out into the hallway. "Fernando?"

"Si."

Sands hesitated. "Can you get a cup and my disinfectant and bring them into the bathroom?" It was only a few minutes before he could hear the boy approaching the door. "Put in on the counter." As he spoke he picked up his soiled clothes off the floor and walked into his bedroom. It took him awhile to find his laundry hamper, but once he did (by practically falling into it) that's where he deposited the clothes.

Fernando had heard a knock on the front door. He went downstairs to answer it. Meyers took one look at the boy and knew that something wasn't right. "What's wrong?"

"Senor Sands. When I got home he was lying on the floor." The child was shaking. Whatever it was that the child saw he wasn't giving it up.

"Where is he?"

"Bathroom."

Meyers nodded. "Okay. I'm going to go up and talk to him. I want you to stay down here."

Fernando nodded and Meyers was glad. He had no idea what kind of mood Sands was in. If he could keep the child from experiencing Sands' temper then he felt like he was doing his duty as an adult.

He quietly walked upstairs, he became aware that the bathroom door was open and he could hear Sheldon talking to himself. He leaned against the wall and listened. He wanted to try to see what kind of a mood he was in.

"Okay Shel. You can do this."

Meyers poked his head in the bathroom. If he didn't know any better he would have thought that Sands was looking at himself in the mirror. Sands took his sunglasses off and with a shaky hand; he touched the edge of his left socket. He seemed frustrated. "Almost a month and I still can't do this without wanting to vomit. If I can't touch my face, how is anyone else going to?"

~I would~ thought Meyers. He watched as Sands tilted his head back and squirted some sort of clear liquid into both sockets. In a few seconds he brought his head forward and let the liquid run out. To Meyers, it looked almost like tears.

After that was finished he sank to his knees. He put his hand on the floor to steady himself; he was shaking and breathing heavily. Meyers was guessing that this was as close to crying as Sheldon Sands could get. Several minutes later he grabbed the edge of the counter and used it to pull himself to his feet. He ran his hand along the counter until he found his glasses. With them back on, he seemed more confident. He took his cane (which he had folded and put back in his pocket) out and snapped it together.

Meyers cleared his throat. Sands turned quickly to face his unknown guest. Meyers noticed that Sheldon was suddenly pale as paper. "Relax, Shel, it's just me." He smiled as the tension visibly left the other man's body.

"How long have you been there?" ~I hate not being able to tell when someone's there. Am I ever going to get used to this?~

Meyers quickly studied his friends face. There was panic all over his features. Meyers realized if he was able to read the emotions on his face, there was a crack in his carefully placed mask. He knew that Sheldon wore his masks as carefully as his glasses; it took a lot to crack them. "Only a couple of minutes. What happened?"

Sheldon shook his head, opened a drawer and felt around for his elastic bands. After finding one he moved his hand around on the counter until he found his brush. He held it out to Meyers. "Nothing. As long as you're going to stand there, you might as well make yourself useful. Bedroom."

Meyers took the brush from Sands. Meyers swallowed hard but recovered himself quickly. After all, it was just brushing the man's hair, how hard could that be? It was then that he noticed how bad Sands was shaking. Sands must have realized just how bad his shaking really was.
"Take my elbow and lead me to my room. It's the last door on the left side."

Meyers found it odd that despite the fact that Sands was independent, he was asking for help. As they walked Sands leaned on the other man for support. It was then that he noticed how tired Sands looked. And once again he couldn't shake the nagging feeling he had in the pit of his stomach that something very bad had happened.

Once inside the room Sands let himself collapse on the bed. As he sat, a jolt of pain ran down his spine, straight to his ass and back again. He clenched his teeth together tightly and swallowed his scream. Meyers sat behind him on the bed. He untucked the hair from behind his ears. He took the brush and ran it through Sands hair a few times.

Sands moaned. Having his hair brushed was one of the odd quirks that relaxed him. He enjoyed the feeling as the brush massaged his scalp, as well as the feeling as his hair was gathered and pulled through the hair band.

"Okay Shel. Talk to me."

Sands did something that was completely out of character; he leaned back until his head was resting on the other agent's shoulder. "I was given a warning."

Meyers wrapped his arms around the other man and inhaled his scent. It was an odd but not unpleasant mix of a sharp cologne, disinfectant and deodorant. "What kind of warning?"

Sheldon took a shaky breath. "I was told to keep my nose out of other people's business or I'd be killed."

Meyers knew that there had to be more to it than that. "What else?"

"Nothing."

Meyers gave him a doubtful look. "Alright, well if you won't tell me, I'll have to bring you to a hospital."

Sands shook his head. "No hospital."

"Then spill."

Sands sighed and rubbed the space between his 'eyes'. "When I got home there was someone here. I didn't recognize the voice. I have no idea who it was. He had a gun. He gagged me, tied my hands together and asked me if I had been at 'the office' doing something that I wasn't supposed to. I shook my head. He forced me onto my back and fucked me. Then he said that if I was caught doing something that I shouldn't be, he'd use his gun."

When Sands finished speaking, Meyers was a bit concerned. He realized that the tone that he had used during his explanation; was the same dry, detached tone that he used when he was being debriefed. He searched his brain for something to say that would make this bad situation better. The only thing that he kept thinking was that this man, whoever he was, had broken into Sands' house, violated him, exposed his weakness and threatened him. He tried to think everything he had been taught in CIA. He was certain that there was something in his training that covered what to do in cases like this. Unfortunately he couldn't think of anything. He didn't know what to do. Even when they had been paired together, when they were training, Sands had always been the strong one. He had somehow always known the best way to neutralize the situation.

Sands stayed leaning on the other man. He just wanted everything that he had experienced in the last 7 months to go away. He was shaking still; the more he shook and sobbed the worst he felt. It was made worse by the fact that he knew that his face should have been tear-streaked. He turned around in Meyers' arms so that the side of his face was against the other man's clothed chest. He felt the soft cotton material against his face and sighed. When he inhaled he took in the other man's scent. He smelled like spice and coffee. He was warm and Sands could hear his heart beating. He was vaguely aware of his sunglasses pressing against the side of his face.
~Shel, you're better then this. Pull yourself together. Even if he had been attracted to you, he wouldn't be now. You're a freak. And perfect men like him have no interest in freaks like you. Get it together Sands.~

Meyers noted with some concern that Sheldon had grown quiet. He wasn't shaking or sobbing anymore. He was doing a rhythmic breathing exercise, no doubt trying to force himself to come to grips with whatever warred around in his head. "Sands?"

"Yeah?" He cleared his throat. "Sorry." Sands pulled himself away. He knew that Meyers hadn't said anything but Sands knew that he was uncomfortable and at a loss for what he was doing. And he should be, Sheldon usually didn't do affection.

"No problem." Meyers noticed that Sands wiped underneath his sunglasses. There was a wetness there but he knew that it wasn't tears; it was residue from the disinfectant.

Sands stood up and moved his head from left to right; Meyers cringed at the creaking that resulted. He always hated when Sands did that. The sound of his neck creaking always reminded him of broken bones.

"You okay now?"

Sands flashed him what he hoped was a confident smile but Meyers could see right through it. It was as fake as one of his disguises. He would have commented but the phone rang. At the same time an automated voice announced, "Central Intelligence Agency Main Office" Sands reached over and picked up the phone. "Talk."

Meyers noted how calm, cool and at ease his voice sounded. He was pretty sure that the man was close to a breakdown. He was not allowing his body language to convey that. No wonder he was the most feared and well respected Agent within the CIA. That is not to say that he was the most liked. In fact most people that dealt with Sands within The Company hated him. That was hardly the point; he was very good at what he did. He had been the best in his field, whatever that happen to be.

"Mr. Sands. It's Ethan Schmidt. I've just finished reviewing all of the reports that you submitted while on assignment in Mexico, as well as the Human Intelligence Reports you created on several Cartel members and the 'agents' you had working under you. I'd like to meet with you so we could discuss it."

There were warning bells going off in his head but he ignored them. This guy was from CIA Headquarters it would be all right. "Sure. What time?"

"Tomorrow at 2."

"Okay. Sounds like a date." He hung up the phone. He should have been happy he was finally getting somewhere. Instead of feeling happy or even remotely relieved all he felt was worry and dread.

Meyers saw the torrent of emotions playing across Sands' face. "What is it?"

"Ethan Schmidt wants to talk."