All Eyes Lead to the Truth | One Son (6x12)
She used to be beautiful. Men told her that all the time. Women, too.
She hadn’t really valued beauty before, but after everything she’d been through, its importance had never been more clear. Beauty was acceptance. Beauty was access.
Marita Covarrubias knew her power lay more than skin deep, but in a world run by men, beauty had become her greatest weapon. And now, she was disarmed; weak and vulnerable.
Like Cassandra Spender, she had lost track of how long she’d been held prisoner. Most days she’d wished for death, a silent prayer sent up to a God that, thanks to Them , she knew didn’t exist. They’d robbed her of hope.
Then one day, the men she’d come to serve had burst in, injecting Cassandra with a sedative, strapping her to a gurney and rolling her out of the room, leaving Marita behind. When Jeffrey Spender found her later, he’d looked at her with disgust and horror. But she still had some power. Now, she had information. Before they could negotiate, however, Marita came face to face with someone she never expected to see again.
Alex, who knew her every curve; Alex, who had always respected her power, enhanced by her beauty, not because of it. And for a few short seconds, he saw the woman beneath.
His familiar bravado was gone as he took in the sight of her. It wasn’t guilt in his eyes, or even compassion. Somehow Marita knew exactly what it was. Despite everything they’d been through, despite her betrayal, even… there was still something between them...
“What’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?” he asks, sidling up to her as if this were a fraternity mixer, not a meeting of the most diabolical minds in the country.
Marita narrows her eyes. “Same reason as you, I expect.”
“So you’re here to meet women, too?”
They laugh together, something she hasn’t done with a man in a long time, and she feels it: a flutter deep within. Beautiful women are obviously scarce in this group, but so are beautiful men.
“Seriously, though,” he continues. “You believe in this crap?”
“Do you?” she fires back, and in his eyes she sees the truth: it doesn’t matter what he believes. He’s here to save himself. She can respect that.
She’s spent more time in this dark, reeking, smoke-filled room than she’d ever anticipated. She isn’t here because of their cause; she doesn’t trust any of these men as far as she can throw them. But for the first time, through the murky haze, she sees one of them clearly.
Alex Krycek isn’t just another member of the Syndicate.
He gave her a steely glance, one she used to know well. One that used to mean something very different. But he did not suffer from short-term memory loss. He made no move to help her, and she could hardly blame him. His jaw clenched, his eyes flashing in anger, and all Marita could feel now was the bitter sting of her own regret.
“It’s all going to hell,” Alex said. “The rebels are going to win. They took it.” He looked between her and Jeffrey, but she knew he was communicating this to her alone.
Alex turned to go and Jeffrey followed him. “Took what?” he repeated. Marita stepped out into the hallway, exposed, like a young gazelle separated from its herd. She said nothing, but Alex looked directly at her, his eyes piercing hers. God, those eyes.
“Save yourselves,” he said. Then he broke into a sprint down the corridor. If it was the last thing she ever heard Alex Krycek say to her, it would be heartbreakingly appropriate.
Jeffrey turned to Marita, panicked. “My mother, you’ve got to tell me where she is!”
He was her last hope of escape, but he had no reason to help her. She had nothing to offer anyone, no cards to play. No move to make.
“Where is she?!” Jeffrey screamed.
If Jeffrey Spender could get to his mother, it would ruin the cancer man’s plans. It would be the final nail in his coffin. And if she could make that happen, maybe it would be worth hammering one into her own.
“The Potomac Yards,” she said. “They’re taking her by train. If you go now, you might stop them.”
Jeffrey nodded, and gave her one last pitying look. “I’ll come back for you.” Whether he was being sincere or not, she wasn’t sure. Marita made her way back into the room, sinking slowly to the floor, tired and weak.
“Covarrubias,” a female voice was saying.
Marita’s eyes opened. The face was familiar. “...Agent Fowley?”
Marita had crossed paths with Diana Fowley only a few times in the very room where she’d met Alex. She barely knew her, and preferred it that way. Alex was fucking her, too, after all.
“We have to leave,” said Agent Fowley urgently. “He’s waiting.”
Marita knew exactly who she meant. “How can you still trust him?” she asked. “After what he did to you? You almost died.”
Fowley looked pensive, but then her expression hardened. “He saved my life. Just as he’s doing with yours. We’d both do well to remember that.”
This faulty logic either didn’t land with the agent, or she was choosing not to see it. Marita suspected the latter. Diana was a true believer; Marita was in it for the money. But they’d both found themselves in a corner they didn’t like. And her warning was clear and dire: if they didn’t follow the cancer man, they’d both end up dead.
This was her only chance to save herself, to heal, to rebuild what had been broken. Maybe she wasn’t out of the game quite yet.
Marita stood without another word, and followed Diana. After all, beauty was power.
Read the rest of All Eyes Lead to the Truth on Archive of Our Own!
