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martisa · 11 months

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Antes Dela Chegar, ele se foi

A Partida de um Fernandes

Esse não é um post que eu imaginava fazer tão cedo, na verdade eu nunca imaginei fazer esse post, mas aqui estou eu. O meu bisavô faleceu. O filho e neto de Élida (ele colocou o nome da mãe na filha, que é a minha avó), o menino que pode ter visto Saralina, abençoado por ela, cuja linhagem foi abençoado por ela, cujo o sangue remonta da Argentina, cujos avós eram bravos caçadores de deminches, cujas histórias inspiraram a minha mãe e a mim, que moldou o caráter da minha mãe, que por sua vez moldou o meu, que me ensinou a gostar de nesquik, que amava os animais e passou para a minha mãe todo o amor pelos bichinhos, tratava como filhos, como todos os filhos adotivos que ele teve e a quem ensinou uma profissão, que foi o patriarca de uma família de pessoas bravas, valentes, fortes, indomáveis e de mulheres espertas e insubmissas, que foi caminhoneiro na década de 50, e cujo legado ficará nas flores de manjericão, nas folhas da erva mate, na música merceditas, nos animais, na sua caminhonete velha que só servia para ele passar o tempo consertando e desmontando. O homem a quem me voltei nos meus dias mais sombrios, a quem busquei respostas durante a fase mais difícil da minha vida, pois era na casa dele, com a minha prima, que eu me reconstruía do que havia me feito em pedaços, é com lágrimas que escrevo que uma parte de mim se foi, mas essa parte também vive e resiste. Eu morri em 2017, mas eu também renasci, e foi com a ajuda dele (ainda que ele tenha morrido sem saber) que eu renasci, que eu me forjei, que eu me levantei das cinzas pronta para enfrentar o que quer que viesse e absolutamente nada mais foi tão difícil que eu não pudesse aguentar. Ergueu-se em mim Papoula Fernandez. Papoula, a flor alucinógena com a qual ele me apelidou quando eu era pequena, e Fernandez, o sobrenome de sua mãe que fora brutalmente assassinada quando ele ainda era uma criança. Ergueu-se em mim uma guerreira, uma caçadora e domadora e depois, um ressurgimento da deusa que abençoou essa família, essa linhagem, ele, minha avó e a mim. Eu tive oportunidade de estar com ele nos últimos dias, meu aniversário de 25 anos foi ao teu lado, foi muito humilde, mas fiz questão de passar ao lado dele e ele contou histórias que nunca tinha contado, fomos felizes naquela hora, um dos meus últimos momentos a sós com ele, estávamos dando banho em suas cadelinhas, inconscientemente eu sabia que era um momento precioso, por isso eu atendi seu chamado. Eu nunca perguntei se ele foi para a Argentina e agora eu nunca saberei, mas a verdade é que eu voltarei lá por ele, agora é também por ele, por mim e por ele e por minha tataravó e por Príamo e Cláudia.

“O que não me mata, me fortalece”.

No início de 2017 eu tive uma desilusão, todos nós temos desilusões, mas essa em específico me matou, não literalmente, mas de forma sútil, espiritual, em muitos modos. De repente, eu me sentia sem chão, eu me sentia perdida e sem rumo, como se uma ponte tivesse cedido sobre a minha cabeça, é fato que o que realmente aconteceu naquele 19 de janeiro de 2017 não foi o único responsável por me fazer cair, eu já estava triste e desiludida, eu já estava colocando esperanças em algo na esperança de uma luz, como quem se agarra a uma tábua perdida no meio da tempestade em alto mar, então essa tábua se dissolveu e eu afundei, afundei e afundei e eu poderia ter nadado até a superfície como qualquer outra pessoa faria, mas eu não queria, eu não sou qualquer outra pessoa, eu nunca serei, e está tudo bem. Eu afundei e resolvi descer até as fossas abissais, eu fui subterrâneo enfrentar o demônio que dissolvera a minha tábua. Então eu descobri que tínhamos algo em comum, pelo menos eu tinha algo ligado a ele, foram pelo menos quatro anos lutando contra esse demônio, me apaixonando, o prendendo, o manipulando, ora ele me manipulava, aparecia nos meus sonhos, nas minhas histórias, nas minhas poesias e paródias e nas minhas buscas no facebook. Eu o comi, eu o assimilei, eu o devorei, eu o consumi, ele agora é parte de mim, ele me matou, mas eu renasci e a nova eu o tem em mãos, em peito e em mente. Durante todo esse tempo, eu precisava saber mais sobre quem eu era, quem eram os meus antepassados, como eles eram e o que me ligava a esse passado era o homem que enterrei hoje, ele não sabe, mas ele foi a isca que me tirou do fundo e me levou de volta a superfície, eu voltei das profundezas como uma vencedora. Eu perdi amigos nesse processos, os únicos amigos que eu tinha e quem eu mais prezava, que me julgaram e que jamais entenderiam o que eu passei, eles se foram, eles deram as costas, me excluíram e por algumas vezes eu senti sua falta, eu pensava se tinha feito a escolha certa, eu sentia que tinha feito a escolha certa no final da pandemia (isso é uma longa história sobre como eu e minha famílias fomos protegidos da praga), mas hoje eu me arrependi de já ter me arrependido. Absolutamente nada me convencerá de que eu não fiz a escolha certa, de que eu jamais seria quem eu sou hoje se eu não tivesse mergulhado mais fundo na tristeza e enfrentado o meu demônio. Eu não teria passado tanto tempo com o meu bisavô, ele era uma pessoa complicada, de personalidade forte e com opiniões um tanto canceláveis nos dias de hoje (um senhor com mais de 80 anos), mas eu soube ver além disso, eu soube passar por cima da humilhação em forma de brincadeira que é tão característica dos Souzas, eu soube ouvi-lo, eu soube apreciá-lo, eu soube honrá-lo. Ele não gostava de sair da casa dele, ele preferia ficar sempre naquela casinha, mas ele saiu de lá para me ver cantar, e eu cantei em espanhol e ele criticou meu espanhol, eu só cantei em espanhol por causa do demônio, o recital foi no mesmo dia em que eu tirei uma foto que me custou a participação em um server carrolliano que eu sempre sonhei em entrar, mas a foto (que hoje carrego em um medalhão ao lado do original) era uma prova visual da minha assimilação, da minha vitória sobre aquele que me afundou e me dissolveu, daquele que me destruiu, mas se eu não tivesse sido destruída, eu jamais teria me construído com peças mais fortes. Eu não me importo que eles não tenham entendido, eu não me importo que ninguém me entenda além de mim mesma, porque não devemos fazer escolhas baseadas na opinião de quem não nos conhece.

Eu resolvi postar todos os capítulos inéditos de Antes Dela Chegar, a história que eu só escrevi porque estava transmutando a minha dor em ouro através do dom que ele passou a todos da família: o de contar histórias

também deixo aqui o link da história em que o inseri brevemente ao lado de Morton Cohen, ainda em garoto, lutando contra Ares, ou melhor, Martín

As coisas serão difíceis agora, eu sou uma pessoa que se apega fácil a tudo, então eu não vou saber lidar com passar perto da casa dele e saber que ele não estará lá, que sua casa estará vazia e que eu nunca mais vou escutar nenhuma história, eu não lido bem com a eternidade.

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Éida Fernandez cantava essa música

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urgonnaneedabiggership · 1 year

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NAMOR (MCU) X MEXICAN!OC

MASTERLIST

A/N: Remember you can find this fanfic on AO3 right here. Any feedback and/or comments are greatly appreciated <3 If you want to be added to the taglist, just say so!

My friends, this is the end of this journey. At least for now. I will post an epilogue in the next days that, hopefully, will leave you as excited for the second book of this fic as I am. If you've gotten this far, thank you so much for reading. See you soon!

Warnings: Violence, weapons, death and un-aliving people. Language.

Word count: 5,679

The tense silence that covered the room and its inhabitants like a heavy, smothering blanket was only interrupted by the clink of spoons against dinnerware. Three women of different ages sat at the table, the eldest and youngest occasionally looking at the third one. She pretended not to notice, but their gazes felt like the scorching sun against her skin. Still, she continued to eat, never taking her eyes off the bottom of the bowl. She wasn’t really hungry, thanks to the queasy feeling in her stomach that’d been plaguing her for the last week or so. After exchanging another glance with the eldest, one of the women cleared her throat before speaking.

“So, what’s your plan, Mercedes?” She asked, receiving a stern look from her mother, who hissed her name angrily. Mercedes carefully placed the spoon next to the empty bowl as she replied without looking up.

“What do you mean?” She asked.

“You know, now that you’re back. Where will you go?” Antonia clarified, always glaring at the other girl. Mercedes looked noticeably confused, furrowing her eyebrows as she finally dared to look up at her cousin.

“Where…?” She asked, “I’m sorry, I thought it would be okay if…”

“Merceditas, lo que Toña quiere decir es si tienes pensado ir a algún lado, o qué piensas hacer ahora. Cinco años es mucho tiempo y…” Merceditas, what Toña means is whether you plan to go somewhere, or what you plan to do now. Five years is a long time and...

“No Ma, that’s not what I meant,” Toña promptly interrupted her, “I’m asking Mercedes where she’s going to go and when she’s planning to leave,”

“Are you being serious?” Mercedes asked, clenching her jaw as she desperately attempted to conceal the fluctuating mix of pain and anger in her voice, “I was gone for five fucking years, Antonia. I just came back two weeks ago, I…”

“No, Mercedes, are you being serious?” Antonia started raising her voice, “You don’t really expect us to let you stay here after what you did to my dad. You didn’t think that just because you and a million others vanished for a while we’d just forget about it? ”

Again at a loss for words, Mercedes turned to look at a silent Moni, whose eyes remained fixed on her intertwined hands on her lap.

“Tía Moni,” She asked, “¿Tú también piensas eso?” Auntie Moni, do you think that too?

Much to her horror, the woman didn’t reply and didn’t even dare to face her. She just pressed her lips together tightly and shut her eyes.

“Tía,” Mercedes insisted, “Tía, tú sabes que yo no tuve la culpa de lo que le pasó a mi tío. Tú sabes que yo jamás quise que eso pasara, yo siempre traté de cuidarlo, nos cuidábamos la espalda siempre pero…” Auntie, you know what happened to my uncle was not my fault. You know I never wanted that to happen, I always tried to look out for him, we watched each other's backs but...

The girl didn’t really know how to continue. Especially because, deep inside of her, a tiny voice wondered whether she was right to refuse to house the woman responsible, albeit indirectly, for the death of her husband.

“Merceditas…mijita, yo lo sé. Tu tío…” She tried to reply until Antonia promptly interrupted her. Merceditas, my child, I know. Your uncle...

“No mamá, no, ya habíamos hablado de esto,” She protested, which in turn silenced the woman once again before her daughter turned to look at Mercedes, “Don’t make this any harder on my mom than it already is,” No, mom, no. We had already talked about this.

Mercedes didn’t say a word, her eyes shifting from the girl she’d grown up with and the woman she thought of as a mother figure.

“Tía Moni,” she croaked, her voice hoarse as the knot in her throat tightened and tears threatened to roll down her cheeks, “Pídemelo y voy a volver a Bawir nomás a visitar a mi abuela, ni siquiera voy a acercarme a esta casa…” Auntie Moni, ask me to and I will only return to Bawir to visit my grandmother, I won't even go nowhere near this house.

“Mercedes, ya te dijo que…” Antonia attempted to chime in just to be immediately shut down by the other woman. Mercedes, she already told you that...

“No te estoy hablando a ti,” She crudely snapped at her before staring at her aunt with pleading eyes. I'm not talking to you Moni returned that same glance, entirely focused on Mercedes despite the insistent glares her daughter shot her way. Moni opened her mouth once, hesitantly, just to close it again before anything could come out. When Moni’s gaze suddenly dropped to her feet, Mercedes felt as if an invisible fist had taken both her lungs and scrunched them into a tiny ball.

“Merceditas, creo que es mejor que por un tiempo…” Merceditas, I think it's best that for a while...

Mercedes didn’t even want to hear the rest. She didn’t even go upstairs to take what she could with her. The woman hastily circled the table, picked up a backpack that hung next to the door, and walked out before slamming the door after her.

Namor had been waiting outside of the house for over half an hour after Mercedes asked him to do so, claiming she had some things to sort out with Moni. Their argument could be heard from where he was sitting, on the spot next to the river. So, when the door swung open and he heard hurried steps coming his way, Namor turned his head immediately. The budding grin on the corner of his lips faded instantly when the person that took a seat on a rock next to him wasn’t Mercedes.

“You’re a loyal one, I’ll give you that,” Antonia huffed, resting her elbows against her knees as she turned to look at him clearly expecting an answer. Namor didn’t make a sound and remained unfazed, staring at the running water before them.

“Alright, then,” She continued, “Mercedes wants us to take a look around the house. Make sure no one followed us while they pack a few things to take her grandmother to the capital tonight.”

With no other gesture to acknowledge her words, Namor stood up and started making his way to the tree line. “Wait! Don’t you want a gun or something?” After receiving nothing but silence for an answer, Antonia sighed annoyed before following suit.

“You look anxious,” She commented after ten blissful minutes of complete silence, seeing Namor open and close his fists repeatedly as they walked, “You should’ve come armed. Last time I went to investigate a noise unarmed somebody beat me unconscious and when I opened my eyes I was tied up in the middle of the jungle,”

“I can look after myself just fine,” He dryly replied, still refusing to look at her. Noticing the edge in his voice, Antonia scoffed and shook her head.

“She must’ve already made a great job at telling you about me, hasn’t she?” The woman spoke scornfully, “The evil bitch who just won’t forgive her for killing her dad,”

Namor stopped himself before attempting to argue with her, clenching his jaw and taking a deep breath before continuing to walk.

“Let me tell you a few things about her, then,”

“You told me enough back there,”

“Oh, trust me, it’s not nearly enough,”

“I don’t want to hear it.”

“Shit, she’s got you good, doesn’t she?” Antonia sneered as he walked faster to move away from her.

“You know she’s married, right?”

“Sí Javier, ya sé,” Mercedes whispered into the phone, tapping her fingertips against her knee “No me importan los años, cabrón. Me sigues debiendo un favor.” After a few seconds, she cursed under her breath and angrily hung up the phone, impulsively kicking the wooden stool she’d been using as a seat.

A set of footsteps rushed down the stairs and Moni stumbled into the kitchen, worriedly asking what was wrong as she scanned the room. “Nada, tía,” Mercedes replied with a forced, breathless laugh, attempting to sound as calm as she could, “Nada, esta gente que me hace enojar,” Nothing, auntie. Just these people that make me so angry. “¿Qué dijo tu amigo?” Moni asked hopefully. Her niece couldn’t lie to her. She could see on her face that things had definitely not gone her way. Confirming her suspicions, Mercedes shook her head negatively. What did your friend say? “Ambas están más seguras aquí de todos modos,” Mercedes assured her, “No saben cómo llegar a Bawir y ya nos encargamos de los que sí. Pensaremos en algo.” Both of you are safer here anyway. They don't know how to get to Bawir and we took care of those who did. We'll figure it out.

Before her aunt could say anything else, Mercedes shut her eyes tightly as she unsteadily leaned against the wall.

“¿Mercedes? ¿Qué te pasa, chula?” Moni asked, gently placing her hand on the woman’s forehead only for Mercedes to softly remove it. Mercedes? What's wrong, sweetheart?

“Nada, tía. Nomás traigo migraña, no te preocupes.” Nothing, auntie. Just some migraine, don't worry.

Not looking entirely convinced, Moni nodded and sighed, looking impossibly tired. Mercedes pulled her into a hug and rested her chin on top of her head, her eyes slowly drifting from the dirty dishes in the sink to the green bushes that could be seen through the window.

Namor felt as if he’d stepped on a high-voltage cable and found himself unable to move after hearing the words that left Antonia’s mouth.

You know she’s married, right?

Somehow, that concept and the person it was linked to didn’t seem to make sense together. In his mind, there was no way she could be married. She’d never mentioned it. In all fairness, he had never asked in the first place. She didn’t act like a married woman either. At least not in the last twenty-four hours, or during any of those moments he was sure he’d seen something in her eyes that could barely be considered friendship and not…something else.

Then again, wishful thinking was real. A very real, terrifying possibility.

“Where is…?” He asked once he’d somewhat regained his ability to speak. Shit. He didn’t even know what word…

“He has been away for a while.” Antonia continued, “They met when she was overseeing some business for a drug cartel. But I’m guessing you already knew about that too.”

He didn’t want to turn around. He knew that, if he did, he would have to listen to everything she had to say. He could just go back to the house, convince her to go back to Talokan before nightfall, get soldiers to guard the house day and night despite the risk, and forget all about what he’d just heard, he didn’t need to know. Except he did.

“I can tell you why her name was different in that picture…”

Namor stopped right before turning his neck and furrowed his eyebrows.

“You said you were in the middle of the jungle when you woke up,” He reminded her, “That picture was inside one of the tents,”

When he was met with nothing but a sudden silence, Namor turned around just in time to see a sharp blade about to descend upon his face. Before he could fully process his actions, his self-preservation reflexes kicked in and urged him to counterattack, gripping the attacker’s hand and twisting the arm around with enough strength to redirect the knife’s trajectory right into an astonished Antonia’s stomach.

The woman immediately fell to the floor with a loud thud. Nothing was visible but the handle of the knife and a seemingly endless surge of bright red blood oozed from the injury. As he watched, his earlier words to Mercedes resonated in his mind.

“Whoever did this knew there was going to be a celebration that day and the exact same time at which the noise would be loud enough to camouflage the shooting…

Either that or somebody else told them,”

He cursed under his breath as the realization hit him. In a way, it made some sense. However, even if they weren’t related by blood, Antonia and Mercedes’ chiich had to have been close given how attached both girls had been growing up. But everybody had a breaking point, he knew that. She had reached hers after Mercedes was involved in what happened to Cruz. Everything she’d said was nothing but hateful lies in an attempt to destroy his loyalty to Xmeech. It had to be.

As if he had invoked her with his, her voice calling his name reached his ears, stilling the chaotic tide that drowned his thoughts. However, the effect was short-lived as he realized it was getting closer. Snapping out of his thoughts, the man quickly placed his thumb on the fallen woman’s neck and detected a faint, but existing pulse. Immediately removing the flimsy cotton shirt he’d borrowed, he tore it to shreds and pressed it against her wound.

Namor had to tell the truth. Antonia tried to kill him unaware of his identity. She had harbored so much hatred towards Mercedes that it ultimately led her to sell them out to the enemy, going as far as giving something as priceless as the location of Bawir, their secret haven. Antonia was the person working with them from the inside. There were no further signs of any remaining members of the group that was after them. She didn’t need to stay there any longer. Maybe then she would want to return to Talokan. If only he hadn’t just confessed to almost killing the woman she’d once thought of as a sister.

With a defeated sigh, Namor raised his head to call Mercedes’ name, but the woman emerged from the bushes before he could do so. He felt his heart sink at the sight of Mercedes’ face contorting into a horrified expression, her mouth agape as she ran towards them and knelt next to Antonia

“What happened? I thought you were supposed to be standing guard together,”

“Hold this,” He instructed her, “Don’t let go. I’ll try to lift her,”

“Who did this to her?” She insisted. Still, she obeyed as Namor promptly lifted Antonia’s limp body and followed Mercedes, who led them across the jungle and back into town to reach the small clinic.

“What happened?” Mercedes sputtered once they were sitting in the waiting room, staring into Namor’s eyes despondently. She’d managed to call Moni but wanted to get her facts straight before she arrived, not wanting to discuss them in her presence.

“She suggested we split up and watch a side of the house each, and they got to her before I did,” Namor explained, holding her gaze. Silently scrutinizing his face, Mercedes shook her face and clenched her jaw.

“Bullshit,” She spat out, “They got to her before you? I want to know what really happened.”

Namor opened his mouth to speak again, but before he could make up something else to delay telling her the news that would completely shatter the image she had of her childhood friend, Mercedes chimed in again.

“U jaajile’, kän-än,” She hissed, “I want the truth. You promised.”

She was right. That was what they had agreed. To always be honest with each other, even if they knew the truth wouldn’t be well-received. Namor suddenly noticed the large dark circles under her almond-shaped eyes. His gaze drifted down to her exposed shoulders, covered in goosebumps despite the warm atmosphere around them.

“Are you cold?” He asked. Mercedes looked taken aback by the question and once she noticed his eyes were fixed on her skin, she absent-mindedly ran her hands up and down her arms.

“What does that…?”

“Answer me, please,” Namor sternly insisted.

“A little. I haven’t been feeling well since this morning,” Mercedes admitted, “It’s just the sudden climate change.”

While she perceived a glint of intense worry in his eyes, Namor did not press the matter further and simply acknowledged her answer with a nod.

“Do you trust me?” He asked, his voice barely above a whisper. Nearly with no hesitation, Mercedes nodded and scooted slightly closer to him.

“You have to stay here,” He quietly acknowledged, “Take your chiich somewhere safe. I will do my best to find anything on Wexler’s computer that will help us get to them, and then I will find you.”

“You’re leaving?” She asked, scrutinizing his face in disbelief as she backed away from him, “Now?”

“I just need to let Attuma and Namora know why I’ve been absent for so long,” He explained, “I was supposed to be back nearly a day ago,”

“Does that mean you don’t want me to go back? Can I stay?” She asked in such a hopeful tone that it tore his heart to pieces.

“No, Xmeech. I don’t expect you to return.”

“Can you find out if there has been any progress in decoding the laptop?” She asked tentatively, to which Namor looked away almost ashamedly.

“I don’t think there was, but I will ask.”

“Do you think that will change soon?” The woman insisted. She refused to look into his eyes as if he could somehow peek into her mind and see the conversation between her and that mysterious person that had taken place inside one of those tents back in the jungle. As if he could see she was very much considering it…

His silence did not help his cause at all.

“Let them know you’re okay, but please come back after,” Mercedes pleaded, her mouth pressed in a hard line as she waited for an answer. “If there has been no progress, I will…take my chiich somewhere safe and go back to Talokan with you. To help.”

“Are you sure?” Namor asked no sooner than she had finished her sentence. He could see a glint of hesitation in her eyes and the most selfish side of him beamed when he realized she was struggling to decide even after he had openly granted her freedom. He wondered what kind of cruel person could revel so much in knowing that parting from him, from Talokan, caused her so much pain, “If you’re sure and that’s what you want, you are welcome,”

“Alright. You know where to find us,” Mercedes replied with a soft smile, “As soon as Antonia is out of here…”

“No,” Namor interrupted her so bluntly that she looked at him in slight confusion, “Take your chiich somewhere nobody but you can find her. Do not tell anybody else, not even Moni. Do not trust anybody.”

Before Mercedes could ask anything else and force him to confess whatever he knew, a doctor luckily showed up and asked Mercedes to go with him. As she stood up to leave, the woman turned to look at Namor one more time.

“Wait for me at the house,” She asked, “Don’t leave without letting me know, please?”

“I will see you later, Xmeech,” Namor nodded with a wistful grin as he turned to leave the hospital.

The doctors said Antonia had been very lucky. Despite having lost a fair amount of blood, they had managed to stabilize her and expected her to make a slow but full recovery since the stab had barely touched any important organs. Moni let Mercedes know she would stay with her daughter for the night and sent her back to the house. Deep inside, Mercedes couldn’t help but wonder whether this had re-opened an old injury regarding having a member of her family hurt or nearly killed because of Mercedes. However, she didn’t want to probe further into that and quietly obeyed and walked back to the house. The woman allowed herself to freely enjoy the unbridled relief that washed over her at knowing that Namor was waiting for her there. For once, she even actively tried to avoid fighting the smile that crept up her face as she reached the small cottage.

Mercedes quietly opened the door and walked inside, surprised to find the house in utter darkness. After giving it some thought, she remembered he was probably used to inhabiting poorly lit grottos and might’ve felt more comfortable in the dark. She promptly ran upstairs and peeked through the door of her bedroom, finding nobody but a sleeping chiich inside. Tiptoeing next to the bed, she smiled at the asleep woman and, as she leaned down to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, noticed a shiny object resting on the nightstand.

It was a round, smooth, metallic bead. Mercedes carefully picked it up and admired it under the dim moonlight.

“Te dejó un pedacito de Sol,” He left you a tiny piece of the Sun

Chiich’s sleepy voice startled Mercedes so much that she almost dropped the shiny pearl. Baffled, the woman lifted an eyebrow and stared down at her grandmother inquisitively.

“Tet decía que K’uk’ulkan servía al Sol,” She continued, resting her head against the soft pillow, “Y que me durmiera o me elegiría para acompañarlo en su viaje de regreso al mundo de abajo,” Tet used to say that K'uk'ulkan served the Sun, and that I had to go to sleep or he would pick me to accompany him on his journey back to the underworld.

“El mundo de abajo es precioso, chiich,” Mercedes replied, sitting on the bed next to her, “Pero ahora tengo que asegurarme de que no les pase nada,” The underworld is beautiful, chiich. But now I have to make sure nothing happens to you.

“Se fue sin ti al mundo de abajo, Na’,” Chiich stated, but instead of seeming relieved or happy the elderly woman looked utterly sad, “Tenía que cuidar a mi Xmeech,” He left for the underworld without you, Na'. He had to look after my Xmeech.

“¿Y quién te va a cuidar a ti?” Mercedes laughed softly, “Va a volver pronto.” And who's going to look after you? He's coming back soon anyway.

“No va a volver,” Chiich shook her head negatively, “K’uk’ulkan se fue con el sol,” He's not coming back. K'uk'ulkan left with the Sun.

“Sí. Y va a volver mañana con el sol también,” Yes. And he will return tomorrow with the Sun, too.

“No,” The elderly woman insisted, “Le pedí que se no se fuera. Le dije que lo necesitabas, Na’.” No. I asked him not to go. I told him you needed him.

“¡Chiich!” Mercedes angrily whispered as she stood up, a line appearing between her eyebrows as she folded her arms apprehensively, “¿Y como por qué le dijiste algo así?” Chiich! Why would you tell him something like that?

Barely perceiving she had done something to upset her, Chiich didn’t answer and simply studied the other woman’s face with an innocent smile.

“Bueno, ¿y qué dijo?” Mercedes asked impatiently, which immediately turned the elderly woman’s grin upside down. Well, and what did he say?

“Sólo se rió. Dijo que desde el inicio, de algún modo, él siempre te había necesitado más a ti. Y que tenía que irse a cuidar a mi Xmeech. Se despidió de mí. Me dijo que te dijera adiós.” He just laughed. He said that from the beginning, in some way, he always needed you more. And that he had to leave to look after my Xmeech. He told me to tell you goodbye.

Mercedes’ mouth fell open as her eyes left her grandmother’s face to look at the still-open door leading to the hall. Hurriedly assuring her she’d be back, the woman left her seat and rushed into every room inside the house, searching for her kän-än. Her guardian. Her guardian that had left without saying goodbye, without giving her some certainty on when she’d see him again.

If. If she saw him again.

Mercedes rejected that thought as soon as it entered her mind. He wouldn’t leave and leave them to their fate like that. She was certain he would come back.

But that could take months. Mercedes had gone into hiding for extended periods before. Hell, half of her life she’d been hiding along with her family, why did it upset her so much now?

Because you won’t see him, a tiny voice in her head said scornfully. If he had told you he’d be back in six months, would you be freaking out this much?

No. Because there would be a deadline. A day to look forward to, not this uncertainty. She wouldn’t spend days wondering if it would take years to see him again. All this time she had felt they were doing this together, that she counted on his support and, no matter how disgustingly soft it sounded, his protection. Now she was on her own again. And she hated it.

Mercedes looked out of the window, her gaze fixed on the thick canopy and the darkness underneath it. It was a perfect hideout. A perfect place to spy on somebody, or talk without being seen. Not even five minutes later, she was running out of the house. Mercedes stood in front of the trees as an ominous gust of wind caressed its leaves, making them whisper. Convinced she was being watched, she looked around before undauntingly making her way into the jungle.

Namor could’ve flown. He could’ve made the journey in such a short time, but he decided against it after accepting there were many things he wanted to think about before reaching his destination. It had been one hell of an eventful day. The many things he had been hiding from Mercedes were eating him alive. The fact that her cousin was confined to a hospital bed with a stab wound because of him, and also that she was the one that had betrayed her in the first place or the knowledge that their attempts to recover the information from the thrashed laptop were not going well at all. What would she think of him if she knew how badly he hoped there had been no progress since they left so she would have to go back? As he numbered all the secrets he kept from her, Namor briefly looked at something he was holding in his hand before releasing one long sigh. He was protecting her. In his mind, he always tried to convince himself that all of that he was doing to protect her. Namor knew that if there was some way to just whisk her away, leave everything that pained her behind, and make everything better…he would do it in a heartbeat, but the title invested in him by his people was the only godly thing about him. Even with all his power, some things were beyond him. He couldn’t take a look inside her mind, see if she was as desperate as he was to see all the things inside his mind that had her name tattooed on them.

She had to know. Nobody kisses somebody else like that unless they knew something, or hoped the other one did. The Talokanil pressed his lips together as the memory of her lips on his haunted him for the millionth time in a frustratingly short time.

He would tell her everything. He swore to himself that he would ease her into everything he’d kept from her once they were back in Talokan, even if that meant…

Namor’s inner dialogue stopped the minute the possibility of her leaving his side came into play. He tried finishing the sentence again. He would tell her absolutely everything even if it meant… The man stopped walking and angrily ran a hand across his face when a noise interrupted his third attempt.

It was his name. One of his many names and now perhaps his favorite, called by a voice that made him terrified of what would happen the day he stopped putting up so much resistance to the effects it had on him. Like right then, when he turned around as alert as if he was bracing for the impact of an assailant just to release every bit of air in his lungs the second she entered his range of vision. Even if she looked as if she was about to tear his face off.

Mercedes practically ran into Namor, pushing him away with all her strength. He took a step backwards despite not having felt anything.

“What the fuck are you doing?” She yelled at him, “Were you going to leave? I told you not to leave without letting me know! Do you think that telling my senile grandmother ‘hey say goodbye to her for me’ would be enough?”

“What?” Was all that left his lips as he furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

“Yeah, she told me, and here’s your stupid farewell gift,” She took the vibranium bead out of her pocket and shoved it against his chest, “I don’t give a shit if you’re used to doing things in your own time, we had a deal, and that was that you’d let me know before you left, then tell me when you’d come back,”

“Mercedes, I’m…” He tried to explain himself just to be immediately shut down.

“No, no, I don’t care how you’re going to justify it. I…you’re very helpful. You’re too helpful. And I hate that you always seem to lift a weight off my shoulders and I shouldn’t be okay with that, but I’d rather hate myself for needing your help than not having it.”

“So is that all you want from me? Help?” He asked, lifting an eyebrow.

“Wait, no, I didn’t mean it like that…” She immediately tried to apologize.

“Was it help all you were seeking on the tree?” Namor asked in such a blunt, straightforward way that now it was she who nearly stumbled backwards.

“A lot has happened since then,” He continued, not moving from where he stood, “And we haven’t had the chance to properly talk about it.”

Mercedes shifted her weight from one foot to the other awkwardly. Not lowering her gaze despite the violent shift of color on her face was a feat of sheer strong will. Fearing an uncomfortable silence more than whatever that conversation could have in store for her, she cleared her throat and gave a step forward.

“Okay. What about it?”

“Why did you do it?” Namor asked, unfazed,

Just the first question and it already appeared to be the hardest to answer, judging by the shift in the woman’s demeanor and how her eyes drifted to the side for the first time in the conversation.

“I don’t know,” was the disappointing answer. The Talokanil man scoffed and this time lifted both his eyebrows as he got even closer, carefully scrutinizing Mercedes’ face.

“Xmeech, you once told me that you thought I looked into people’s eyes to see if they were lying, remember?” Once she nodded, he continued speaking, “The truth is, I only did it with you. And not because I want to catch you in a lie.”

Noticing how she avoided looking at him as if she’d been caught in the act and to further prove his point, Namor gently grabbed her chin and turned her face to look at him, going as far as cupping her face with his hand to keep her from moving it away again.

“I already know two things about you. You are either a very smart person who calculates her every movement or you’re a reckless madwoman who completely disregards her own safety, there’s no in between with you. And your eyes tell me who you are right then. I can see if you’ve completely planned out everything that’s going on, or if you’re just taking a leap of faith.”

“So…you knew I intended to get you drunk that night so I could escape?” She asked in an attempt to ease the tension with a joke that accomplished nothing but quirking up the corner of his mouth for a moment.

“I didn’t then. Now I realize you knew perfectly well what you were doing, just like I know that that night on top of the tree was a mere impulse.”

“If you know it was just an impulse,” Mercedes quietly replied, “What do you want from me?”

His hand left her face to slide behind her neck, pulling her forward and leaning down to end with his forehead pressed against hers and his eyes closed shut.

“I want to know where it came from and if you would do it again.”

What followed was an impossible silence. Even the insects and other noises of the jungle went quiet around them, or so it seemed to Namor as the only sound that reached his ears was his own heart as it echoed inside his chest when he stopped feeling her skin against his.

He didn’t really know what to expect. Maybe a soft and hesitant brush of lips, which was more than enough. Perhaps she would just breathe on his lips and then back down. Even the possibility of being harshly slapped crossed his mind and would’ve made perfect sense. Being roughly pulled forward not for a kiss but for a hug as sobs flooded his ears was far beyond anything he’d imagined. It wasn’t until he opened his eyes in confusion that he witnessed how frantically she was pulling herself closer to him, burying her nose in his neck and clasping her arms behind his neck as she stood on her tiptoes. Almost on instinct, he snaked his arms around her waist and held her just as tightly against his chest, feeling her irregular breaths as she struggled to keep more sobs from coming out. Mercedes peeled herself off him and, letting out a relieved, breathless laugh, leaned forward to kiss him again. This time she didn’t give a shit about whether he could feel her shaking like a leaf. Willingly letting every emotion rush through her, she pressed her lips against his over and over and over, not even aiming for his mouth anymore and not caring if they landed on his cheek or his eyes a couple of times. When she ran out of breath, Mercedes once again found solace resting her chin on his shoulder as he gently placed a hand soothingly on her hair.

“I’m not ready to be away from you,” She admitted, his flush skin against her mouth muffling her words causing her to move away from him to speak properly, “That’s all I can give to you right now.”

“Does that mean you’re coming with me?” He cautiously asked, holding her face in his hands as he looked at her expectantly.

“We’re not done yet. That shitty computer is our best shot at finding those assholes and I will even if it’s the last thing I do. Even if you had left me behind, I know where to find you.”

“I did mean to go back,” Namor quickly explained in a more serious tone, “Your grandmother must have misunderstood me when I told her I was going back to you because…well, she thinks you already are in the underworld, so I thought it was best to act accordingly. I only went back to explain my absence.”

As he spoke, Namor closed his fist tightly around a tiny, elongated object inside his hand and concealed it by folding his arms.

“I already placed my family somewhere safe,” Mercedes spoke, briefly glancing to the side, “If we hurry, we should be reaching the ocean before sunrise.”

With a nod, Namor gave her a lopsided grin, which she returned before he turned around to walk in the opposite direction. The minute his gaze was off her, Mercedes pressed her lips into a thin line and diverted her eyes to a small cut on her forearm that, fortunately, he hadn’t noticed. While it was covered by cauterized tissue, she could still feel the awkward metallic bump under it and, if one looked very carefully and knew what to look for, the faint light of the tracker was barely visible.

The Translations:

Tet: Lacandon Mayan. Father

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