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Entry tags:
Survivors by Melody Wilde (R)
Fandom: ONCE UPON A TIME IN MEXICO
Pairing: none
Author on LJ:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
melodywilde
Author Website:fanfiction.net profile
Why this must be read:
It's a well-written, satisfying post-movie fic, with some grand Sands torture. *eg* El Mariachi hears of an attempt on El Presidente's life, and reasonably enough, assumes Sands must have been involved. He goes looking for the man, knowing nothing of what became of him after the coup. All is not as it seems, and El inadvertently leads some old enemies to Sands's location. Then, as the CIA agent is tortured, El has to decide if he cares enough to mount a rescue. Very angsty, and Sands is wonderfully in character with the snark. The story goes on to show Sands how there can be people in the world who care for him. Aw.
He spun the slighter man, slamming him into the wall. One of Sands' hands flew up to hold his oversize sunglasses in place.
"You really need a course in anger management, El."
His hands tightened. "I should have killed you the day I met you."
"Yes, well, this is undoubtedly going to surprise you, but you're not the first person who's said that to me either."
His arm came up and he backhanded the other man across the face with all the force he could muster. Sands' head jerked sideways and he went down with a gasp of pain, the sunglasses flying off to land in the dust.
"You have tried to destroy my country, not once, but twice. God will forgive me for killing you, but I will never be able to forgive myself for *not* killing you months ago." He bent forward and his fingers tangled brutally in the dark hair, pulling Sands' head up. "I should have-"
He saw Sands' face.
"Madre de Dios." His hand went limp, and he stepped back in shock, crossing himself.
"Yeah, they're a real conversation stopper, that's for sure. Not that I have personal knowledge, of course, having never seen them myself." Sands pulled off a glove and drew the back of his hand across his mouth, working his jaw. "Am I bleeding?" When there was no reply, he touched the corner of his lip gently with fingertips. "It feels like I'm bleeding. Could you at least quit staring and hand me my glasses?"
"Madre de Dios."
"You're getting repetitive, El. You need to broaden your vocabulary." Sands reached out, fumbling about himself, until his hand touched an earpiece. "Come on-you're a gunman. You've been around. Haven't you ever seen a man who's had his eyes gouged out?" He gave a tight smile and slipped the sunglasses back into place.
"Who did this to you? Why?"
"Does it matter?" Sands levered himself to his feet and leaned against the wall. "I guess I'm just that kind of a guy. I mean, five seconds ago weren't *you* ready to blow my head off? And let me tell you, having your head blown off is probably a lot less painful in the long run than having your eyes removed without anesthetic."
"Madre de Dios."
"There you go again." Sands fumbled in a pocket. "I don't suppose you have a hanky or something. Mamacita just got the blood out of this shirt. I don't think I have the balls to take it back to her with more on it."
"Come inside." He caught the agent's arm and began to steer him back toward the door, but Sands balked.
"I can walk."
"Si. Forgive me."
Sands smiled again. "Does this mean we're going to be best friends now?"
"No. But it means I am not going to kill you just yet. It means you will talk, and I will listen."
"Groovy."
OUaTiM Overview
Survivors
Pairing: none
Author on LJ:
melodywildeAuthor Website:fanfiction.net profile
Why this must be read:
It's a well-written, satisfying post-movie fic, with some grand Sands torture. *eg* El Mariachi hears of an attempt on El Presidente's life, and reasonably enough, assumes Sands must have been involved. He goes looking for the man, knowing nothing of what became of him after the coup. All is not as it seems, and El inadvertently leads some old enemies to Sands's location. Then, as the CIA agent is tortured, El has to decide if he cares enough to mount a rescue. Very angsty, and Sands is wonderfully in character with the snark. The story goes on to show Sands how there can be people in the world who care for him. Aw.
He spun the slighter man, slamming him into the wall. One of Sands' hands flew up to hold his oversize sunglasses in place.
"You really need a course in anger management, El."
His hands tightened. "I should have killed you the day I met you."
"Yes, well, this is undoubtedly going to surprise you, but you're not the first person who's said that to me either."
His arm came up and he backhanded the other man across the face with all the force he could muster. Sands' head jerked sideways and he went down with a gasp of pain, the sunglasses flying off to land in the dust.
"You have tried to destroy my country, not once, but twice. God will forgive me for killing you, but I will never be able to forgive myself for *not* killing you months ago." He bent forward and his fingers tangled brutally in the dark hair, pulling Sands' head up. "I should have-"
He saw Sands' face.
"Madre de Dios." His hand went limp, and he stepped back in shock, crossing himself.
"Yeah, they're a real conversation stopper, that's for sure. Not that I have personal knowledge, of course, having never seen them myself." Sands pulled off a glove and drew the back of his hand across his mouth, working his jaw. "Am I bleeding?" When there was no reply, he touched the corner of his lip gently with fingertips. "It feels like I'm bleeding. Could you at least quit staring and hand me my glasses?"
"Madre de Dios."
"You're getting repetitive, El. You need to broaden your vocabulary." Sands reached out, fumbling about himself, until his hand touched an earpiece. "Come on-you're a gunman. You've been around. Haven't you ever seen a man who's had his eyes gouged out?" He gave a tight smile and slipped the sunglasses back into place.
"Who did this to you? Why?"
"Does it matter?" Sands levered himself to his feet and leaned against the wall. "I guess I'm just that kind of a guy. I mean, five seconds ago weren't *you* ready to blow my head off? And let me tell you, having your head blown off is probably a lot less painful in the long run than having your eyes removed without anesthetic."
"Madre de Dios."
"There you go again." Sands fumbled in a pocket. "I don't suppose you have a hanky or something. Mamacita just got the blood out of this shirt. I don't think I have the balls to take it back to her with more on it."
"Come inside." He caught the agent's arm and began to steer him back toward the door, but Sands balked.
"I can walk."
"Si. Forgive me."
Sands smiled again. "Does this mean we're going to be best friends now?"
"No. But it means I am not going to kill you just yet. It means you will talk, and I will listen."
"Groovy."
OUaTiM Overview
Survivors
no subject
Just FYI, I'm in the process of doing some minor rewrites on Survivors, cleaning up a few inconsistences of the sort that occur when you start posing a fic before you've finished it, and then I'm going to put the new and improved (or not) version on my LJ, along with the three short "Interlude"s (one of which is new) and, finally!, the sequel that I've been kicking around for a year or so. Your rec has just added fuel to the "get these things done" fire!
Thanks again.
no subject
Excellent! Then my work here is done. *g* (just kidding)