Twenty Six

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Carlos

He let her wipe the blood off his hands and face. She was gentle. Quiet. He watched as she wet the small towel before bringing it to his face, her eyes were soft as she silently asked for his permission to touch him. Carlos nodded slowly and she brought the towel to his face, gently wiping the blood from his chin and cheeks. They didn't say a word to each other. She kept her gaze away from his instead opting to focus on the task at hand. He stared at the splatter of blood on her face, the red patches on her own fingers and arms. At one point in her life, she had gotten used to it. Carlos wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.

Morgan kept wiping the remnants of the blood from his fingers before she slowly sat back. He could see the traces of her tears on her cheeks. She had thought it was him who was in trouble. He still could picture the panic in her eyes when she had walked into that alley, the relief that had followed when she realised that it wasn't him who had gotten hurt.

"When did it change?" he found himself asking.

She cocked her head to the side, "What?" her voice was hoarse and she cleared her throat, "What d'you mean?" she tried again.

"All of this. When did you start getting used to it?"

She sighed softly and ran a bloodied hand through her hair. "At the start it was difficult, I remember my days working for the fiscalia. The first time I took a life- I didn't sleep for weeks," she said softly and continued, "But then I got used to it. It's easier when you don't know the person, that way you wouldn't be racked up with thoughts about the consequences of their death. It took time but I slowly got rid of the habit of making it personal. I have a job to do and this is the collateral damage that comes with it,"

"Do you feel like you're losing a part of yourself with every kill?"

She gave him a small smile, "If I thought that way, then I wouldn't be sitting here with you," she said as she wiped the remaining traces of the blood on his hands. Just then the doorbell rang and Carlos watched as her had went immediately to her gun. "Carlos? It's me Charles," Charles called out from the other side of the door.

Morgan stood up and gestured towards the door, "Talk to him, get it off your chest," she said as she made her way to the door. Carlos didn't have the opportunity to tell her that he'd rather talk to her so he sighed and followed her.

"Oh my god Carlos what happened?" Charles asked as soon as Morgan opened the door. His teammate immediately pulling him into a tight hug. "We were told about the attack by Sylvia, she didn't give us any details and I expected the worst. Are you okay mate?" Charles asked in concern. Carlos looked to Morgan who gave him a small smile of encouragement. "I'll let you two talk, I need to wash this off anyways," she said as she made her way to her suitcase.

Charles eyes widened as he saw the blood on Morgan, "Uh yes, I'm sorry is this a bad time?" he asked.

"No not at all. You won't even know I'm here, I'll change quickly and slip out of here and give you your privacy," she said as she picked out some clothes and made a beeline to the bathroom. After she closed the door Charles turned to him, his face scrunched up in concern.

Carlos sighed and gestured towards the couch, "I don't even know where to start from," he admitted.

"From the beginning, how did this all happen?" Charles asked as he sat beside him.

Carlos told him everything. Charles was quiet when he finished and he watched as his teammate processed everything that had happened. In the silence, Carlos could hear the shower running in the bathroom, he tried not to picture Morgan underneath it. "Do you think Michael will be okay?" Charles asked effectively cutting off Carlos's line of thought.

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