all of this could have been yours Who: Lalita Singh and Rodeo Hawkins, with appearances by Adelaide Hawkins and Sarge Terrell Where: Chapel triage tent, Rodeo's trailer What: Lita takes her last patient of the day and Rodeo attempts to make up for some of his lies. When: Late on October 10 - November 1, 2018
all of the pain that you put on my name, all of my doubt and all of my shame. all of my guilt, my denial and fear, all of my hatred and all of my tears. all of the times that i couldn't go home, all of the times that i froze all alone. all of the sadness, all of the lies, all of the shadows that blackened my eyes. all of the servants who cheated, who stole, all of the colors from the depths of my soul. all of the dreams that you made nightmares, all of the silence and deafening stares.
Rodeo draws out his phone to check the time. His vision swims as he tries to focus his blurred eyes on the numbers at the top of the screen. 12:20? No. 2:20. It's past 2 AM, and his exhaustion is hitting him like freight train. His throat is hoarse from shouting orders across the din, his arms and hands are sore from lifting rubble and wreckage in search of wounded, his eyes won't seem to focus on anything and the limp from the laceration splitting his thigh is difficult to hide. Still, he's dragging his aching body to the triage tent, not ready to rest for the night. Not sure if he'll ever get any rest again. He knows what will happen when he crawls into bed anyway-- guilt will keep him tossing and turning, knotting up all his new sheets and leaving him worse off than how he started. If he doesn't stop, that despair can't catch him.
As he walks, he hums to himself the notes of an old song. Got to keep movin', got to keep movin'. Blues fallin' down like hail.
The lights in the Chapel are bright, and he squints against the bulbs strung up from the top of the big green tent when he steps inside. Earlier in the day this tent was a whirlwind of activity, but now it's quiet in comparison. Some patients groan on their bedrolls, but most of 'em have been stabilized and the frenzy of their makeshift emergency room has fizzled out. When Rodeo steps inside, some of the volunteers are looking over the wounded, their voices hushed as they make their rounds. Lita is still there, looking just about as harried as he likely does after the day she's had. He has avoided her since his outburst earlier, mostly out of profound embarrassment. The defensive jealousy that made him snap at her coworker should have been kept in check, shouldn't have been powerful enough to rule him. He can only hope she's tired enough to have let it go by now as he approaches.
To be true, seeing her at all feels surreal. He keeps expecting to wake up in bed, jolt up and then trudge out to put on his coffee as he tells Adelaide all about the crazy dream he had where the Dog Park was bombed and his ex-sweetheart came to stitch everybody up. This would be the part in the dream where his coffee-eyed dime would turn her scalpel on him and plunge it into his chest. He's certain that this day has only made Lita more resolute in her decision to stay away from him. Seeing what happens to folks who stick with him, surely she knows better. His heart is already wringing itself dry as he walks towards her, certain nothing but rejection and a cold shoulder await him. If he's looking like a dog waiting to be kicked as he comes up to Lita's side, it's 'cause that's exactly what he is.
Still, he's here looking for a task-- something, anything-- to keep his mind off of everything else. To keep his mind off all the people he failed to keep safe. To keep his mind off the pain he feels at the sight of the woman in front of him. To keep his mind off the aches in his bones and the pounding in his head, off the hunger that stabs at his stomach. To keep his mind off what he has to do next, what retaliation could possibly be fair for all that they've lost. How can he hurt these cats the way they've hurt him? It's clear Emmanuel doesn't love his crew the way Rodeo does his own. Killing his men won't carve out the king cat's heart the way it does Rodeo's. From all Marina has told him, all he's gathered about the leader of Los Nahuales, Rodeo knows there's only one thing the man truly values-- himself. The only recourse is by striking him directly.
The truth of that task is daunting in his current state of profound exhaustion.
"There anything I can help with?" he asks Lita, resting his weight on his good leg as he tries to keep his eyes from looking Lita up and down too obviously. It'd be easy enough to distract himself from his other troubles just by watching her work-- he'd found himself arrested several times throughout the day as he passed through this tent, watching her with rapt attention as she stood at the epicenter of the madness and took control of it all. She was like a general in the heat of battle, commanding her soldiers and brawling against death. The sight of her that way filled his head and heart up with all kinds of wild notions, none of which possess him any less now that the fray has calmed. His heart is pounding just to be in her presence. He can only pray he's hiding it well.