trust... no one, mara.  a common theme, a common message relayed to her as dying words.  mind you, her uncle had never had the chance to tell her such, but the pain in his lifeless stare had said enough.  the frozen recognition that his niece was peacefully sleeping and that he hadn't had time to warn her.  to have her scurry to safety and away from violent, callous hands.  how ironic that, if he'd succeeded to, he'd have been warning the wrong person.  she'd only been fourteen years old when invader had been restrained and tortured by tiny hands.  relives his screams in the face of grief.  how quickly he'd shifted from  'i won't talk!'  to  'please!  stop!'  it's how she'd coped with the strained, agonised wheezes of her guardian, her family  —  max.

" mara, please, you have to go.  they're not going to... ask questions.  you know this.  you need to give them... reason to look into it, "  he'd insisted, blood-smeared hands clutching at her shoulders.

" i can't leave you, pendejo, you've gotta get up for me, "   mara had told him.   " come on, come on! "

" this is it for me, mara.  you're so smart, don't let your feelings get in the way.  i need you to leave before they find you. "

" vete pal carajo!  i won't leave you.  please, i can't lose anyone else, you need to hold on! "   she'd grown so acquainted with the smell of blood, with the sight of it flooding from wound.  but max's blood felt different, it felt like she too was bleeding it.   " stay with me! "

if she concentrates hard enough, it's like she's there, palms embedded in bullet holes attempting to plug them, tears brimming but refusing to fall, the sincere ache in her hunched shoulders and the sirens... the oncoming sirens of police and ambulance.  in fact, she thinks for a moment she can make out max's jacket rustling as he reaches for her, reaches to push her away... the overwhelming stink of blood fades and is replaced by the unmistakeable, strong whiff of tea and coffee.  tea and coffee?  mara's nose scrunches as it takes her a few moments to adjust from nightmare to present, from being on her knees on the sidewalk outside her safehouse to sitting in a booth within a diner.  concern racks her form as she recalls breaking in through a door she'd lock-picked and the rustling can be heard again, prompting her to automatically wince  —  expecting to look up and find the owner or a cleaner looking down at her.

instead, mara's gaze stops halfway, hesitating on the figure sat opposite her.  she glances down at two mugs between them, steam suggesting they're recently made.  struggling to process the situation, she focuses on their skull mask and frowns to herself, swiftly reaching up to wipe away any lingering tears she's unaware of.   " ghost? "  he considers her, with that flat stare he'd worn the last time they'd crossed paths.  then, skeletal fingers reach out to push the mug of what appears to be black coffee in her direction.  disgruntled, the asset groans in defeat.   " they send you to kill me? "

" you'd already be dead if they had. "   a blunt statement, but she'd appreciated his bluntness from day one.  it was so hard to navigate where you stood with people, ghost always made it abundantly clear.   " drink that. "

for the moment, she keeps her forearms on the table but shifts to appear less slouched.  she doesn't drink it.   " then why are you here?  couldn't just leave me to my own devices? "

" 's been ov'a two months, mara, "   the lieutenant observes.   " you've been on the run f' some time. "

" avoiding, "   she corrects,   " i don't run. "

" the fuckin' state of your fingers, "   he observes, eyeing her left hand where pinky and ring digits are resourcefully taped together, notably bent out of shape.   " looks painful. "

" well, "   mara narrows her eyes at him,   " if we all surrendered to painful, no one would ever get anything done. "   come to think of it, her fingers do ache.  the strapping is newly acquired from this very diner, tape she'd obtained from one of the drawers behind the counter.   " seriously.  the fuck are you doing here? "

he considers her for a moment, drawing in a deep breath.   " heard you were in trouble.  cia wanted t' locate you  —  i'm good at locatin' people. "

" and did you ever consider whether i wanted to be located? "

" there's proof of your innocence, "   he cuts to the chase, subtly shifting his mask in order to take a sip of his tea.

mara watches as he does, studying the bob of his throat as he downs the entire lot.  did that not burn him?  only once the mug is back on the table and mask tugged back down does she respond.   " what do you mean? "

" someone recorded your conversation.  prior t' your case officer's death.  they 'ave his confession. "

" recorded? "   mara sits back in her seat, palms as flat against the table as they can go, to ground herself.   " but i never — "   a pause, followed by brows lifting at the realisation,   " max. "

" max? "

" he — "   mara's gaze averts to the coffee in front of her and she opts for wrapping her hands around it, feeling the warmth.   " it doesn't matter... but he must've known something was wrong.  enough to... press record.  are you being serious with me? "

" i've been trackin' you for a week, mara, "   ghost explains.   " none'a this is a joke. "

" a week? "

" could tell you a joke, if you'd like.  let you decide the difference. "

" pendejo, "   she complains.   " it only took you a week to track me down? "

" if it means anythin' it usually takes me a lot less. "   he crosses his arms over his chest and eyes her.   " this 'ent a life t' be living, mara.  cia wants t' discuss restoration with you.  i don't know all the ins 'n' outs but i can tell ya they don't do that f' just anyone. "

her chin lifts towards him, confrontation etched into her cheeks.   " have you ever been betrayed, lieutenant? "   he doesn't audibly respond, instead slowly dipping his own head as a nod.  this doesn't necessarily shock her, given the mask and all, but there's a sense of familiarity in there somewhere, a feeling of being seen.  for much of her life she'd felt alone, unrelatable, detached.  to know someone else could understand almost makes her more aggressive, gaze flitting left and right as she scrutinises him.   " of course, because you have wisdom for everything, don't you?  ever get bored of having nothing better to do?  than to just... have all of this experience? "

" it's a lot, t' navigate it alone, "   he points out, ignoring her bite.

" i wouldn't know. "

" if you want help, you only need t' ask. "

mara scowls, tongue pressingly reluctantly into her cheek.   " maybe i don't need help.  maybe you should just leave me here alone, weón, have you go home empty-handed. "

ghost offers her a disinterested shrug before rising to his feet.   " fair enough. "   he begins stepping out from the booth, feigning taking his leave.

her eyes light up with tame panic as she watches him make for the exit.   " exactly.  you didn't even wanna help me in the first place  —  asshole!  like you could help me. "   as he continues walking away however, a pit of insecurity gnaws at her gut.  you'll die out here, it tells her.  he's right, look at you, you're pathetic!  max didn't die for you to be a puta  —   " ¡taima! "   she calls out sharply, rolling her eyes.   " fine, fine.  don't... leave just yet, okay? "   her gaze focuses on the first signs of dawn outside, through venetian blinds, the dazzling lights of cars driving by visible in the gaps.  she feels ghost's form slow to a halt and sees him turn in her peripheral.  he reapproaches the table but doesn't sit back down.   " maybe... i could use your... help? "

a smug huff leaves the other as he finally retakes his seat, prompting mara to glare at him.   " you didn't need t' ask, i intended to nev'atheless.  but it was nice t' hear you say it. "

she scoffs at his playfulness, shaking her head.   " ¡pendejo! "   is reaffirmed bitterly, though she can't help the subtle upward curve of her lips.  it's not something she'd admit out loud, but it was nice to have the company.  especially having gone so long without much at all...   " so you'll help? "

ghost nods, leaning forward against the table.   " yeh, mara.  i'll help. "