chapter nine — marvin gaye and the overflowing cup

"Let me go! Let me go!" The old woman yelled, the whites of her knuckles showing as she gripped onto the sides of the gurney she was strapped too. Sofia swallowed thickly, taking a step back as she watched the woman thrash and holler at the EMT's; her dirt caked face made her avert her gaze.

"Doris, we need you to stay calm for us, okay?" One of them spoke kindly to her. "Stay calm," They stressed while she was doing the exact opposite.

She just inhaled an entire bag of fertilizer, how the hell is she suddenly supposed to calm down? Sofia questioned. She knew the underlying sentiment was to help ease the situation, but truthfully she couldn't understand why they were speaking into the void if nothing was going to respond back in compliance.

"I have to go back! I have to go back!" Doris screamed again and Sofia grimaced at the entire interaction. Her eyes turned down to her partner Callahan's hands as they shook with fear. Have they never experienced something like this?

Working as an officer in several different states, Sofia had seen just about as much as she could. Sometimes it wasn't pretty. Sometimes images of corpses strewn across back alleyways or dead streets plagued her dreams. Sometimes grief stricken faces of mothers or fathers or children shook her awake in the middle of the night. She hated it; death, war, violence.

These hatreds were the driving force behind her obtaining citizenship and diving head first into the Police Academy when she was just twenty-five. Mateo was five and Irene had just turned three – her husband begged her not to join.

It was hard; not only because she was a woman, but also because many saw her solely as a foreigner that didn't belong. She was ridiculed by those in her cadre, and in the outside world, but she persisted. She told herself if there was one person that was going to help fix the world's problems, it'd be her. Her ancestors had their fair share of repairing a tainted community and she believed she could do the same. She had hope.

Now, fifteen years later, hope was a dying ember in the furnace of her heart. Too much of the world had been corrupted – too much for her hands to grab onto and patch over.

The EMT's carried the older women up the stairs and the two kids who made the call followed suit along with Sofia's partner. She stood back, getting one last good look at the scene. The torn open fertilizer bags made her stomach churn with a familiar feeling. She sighed, gripping the stair rail and took her first step. It hit her then – something that hadn't moved through her body in a long time. Her eyes glossed over as she froze, to others it probably would have seemed as if she was just in a daze but she had fallen into the abyss of her gift.

She heard muffled wails and then the booming symphony of sirens; fire, police, and ambulance. There was a soft whirring that washed over the sounds – like a defibrillator charging up – but it faded quickly into the sound of a steady heartbeat being monitored.

"Vasquez!" Callahan's voice pulled her out and she closed her eyes, trying to catch the rest of the vision before it left completely. To her dismay it slipped away into her subconscious and she clenched her fist in frustration before trudging up the stairs.

"Sorry, I was just looking for anything else that we might have missed." She responded once she stepped outside, meeting her partner's weary gaze. The two kids looked at her as well and she placed a hand on the girl's shoulder, "It's a good thing you called, however we can't just brush under the rug how you two found Mrs. Driscoll." She responded, dropping her arm and placing her hands on her belt.

"What in the name of Jesus just happened?" Callahan asked beside her and she sighed. In the time she'd become acquainted with her partner, she found out he had a knack for freaking out over minuscule things. Of course, their current situation hadn't been miniscule but still, it didn't even elicit that kind of response from the two young-adults standing beside them.

In her opinion, he was far too jittery for an officer. Or perhaps she just had more hardening experiences – perhaps she'd grown used to what accompanied stepping into the darkest corners of the world. Sometimes she wondered why she kept coming back when she could have easily turned to something simpler–something that didn't shove her into the face of injustice and force her to swallow her words.

She thought of the brutality that civilians had endured at the hands of people she worked with and wondered why she stood – why she was foolish enough to believe she alone could change it. Did other officers wear the same satchel of rocks on their backs? Did they carry around the same grief? The same fear? Sometimes the words of Marvin Gaye would run laps inside her mind:This ain't living, this ain't living.

Sometimes she wondered if she was a part of the solution or the problem.

She snapped out of her thoughts, ignoring her partner's fearful blurt, before she looked at the two again, "We're going to have to take you down to the station for some questioning."

The four of them piled into the cold police car and drove in silence. Sofia's eyes were locked on the dark road ahead as Callahan drove, but her mind was off somewhere else. She teetered on the edge of morality and duty, contemplating — like she had countless times before — every step she'd taken that led her to where she was and if any of it was really worth it.

In the shadows of her mind, she thought of her children and just the reminder that she was fighting for their world had made that small ember inside her burn brighter. She was going to be late again that night and hoped they'd understand. But it dawned on her that she wasn't praying for them to understand her reasoning for being late, but for all the horror filled nights she endured for them.

They had to understand.

Tucked away in their small home, Irene and Mateo sat across from each other sharing a pint of ice cream and a load of theories; fueled by strong coffee and ambition.

"Wait, wait, wait." Mateo held his left hand up, a little giggle leaving his lips, as Irene looked up from the notepad she was writing on, "You cracked a secret Russian code for people you hardly even know?" He asked before taking a sip out of his warm mug. His sister sitting across from him shrugged, spooning some more rocky road into her mouth.

"They're my friends." Her quiet muffled voice filled his ears and he noticed how her eyes hadn't met his. The interaction was a testament to how little he knew of his growing sister. If he'd paid any attention he would have noticed that, after giving her the cold shoulders for years, she grew to become very trusting of the people she associated herself with. She didn't go as far as to tell them about her gift – because that was an entirely different level they had to reach – but she did fall into friendships fast and hard.

"That you've known for a month!" Mateo couldn't help but bellow out a laugh again as he placed his cup down. Irene turned her full attention toward him, crossing her arms. She knew he was being playful and that her older brother had a knack for picking at her.

"We literally broke into a house for someone you hardly know and don't even like." She threw him a challenging brow and he gave her a smug grin in return.

"Touché." He said leaning back in his chair, a yawn escaping from his lips. They both were very tired, but decided that in order to move forward they had to collect their theories and thoughts together first. Then, they'd figure out where to go from there. Sleep could wait in their eyes.

"Okay, okay." Irene said, scribbling a few more things on her notepad and then turning it toward Mateo. He leaned over the table, looking at her bubble chart with a small smile, "So we have the monster here, in the center, and connected to it so far are Billy, I believe to be Heather, and Will. I just know he was talking about it in my vision. Connected to Billy is, obviously, Max and connected to her are the rest of her friends. El is here with the star next to her name and another line connected to Heather. What I know about El is that she's pretty much a recluse, which Max blame's on her dad but...I think there's more to it, don't you?"

Mateo nodded slowly, reaching for his mug. He was shocked at how meticulous her thoughts were when he couldn't even begin to grasp what had just happened. He had too many questions that overlapped and answers that seemed far-fetched. At this point he couldn't figure out where to draw the line between fiction and reality – especially when he had a sister and mother who could see the future.

"She did look and sound like she knew there was something wrong with Heather, especially when she asked Billy where she was." He said and his sister nodded furiously at his response.

"Right! And the door to Heather's house was clearly locked; I checked. Also, when we got out of the car Max asked her if the house was it, like if El recognized it or something. How could she if she's never met Heather before? You said it yourself, they hardly show up to the pool." Irene pointed out and Mateo nodded again, "So I'm thinking there has to be something deeper going on and her friends know. Especially since Will seemed so adamant about something or someone being back. And, I mean, my vision with them at the pool...they looked terrified." Irene whispered before looking up at her brother.

"So what do we do?" He asked and she nipped at her nails, thinking to herself.

"Well I could figure out what's going on with this whole Russian side mission while you..."

Mateo's face fell, "Keep an eye on the kids? Why do I get the worst task?" He asked in exasperation and Irene rolled her eyes.

"You're not just watching them, you're also keeping an eye out on the two zombies, Billy and Heather. You have the most exciting task I'd say, you're literally stepping into the beast's lair!" Irene yelled as if she were telling a tale, holding her hands out for emphasis. Her brother shook his head, a small smile evident on his face as he grabbed their cups and walked over to the kitchen. She heard the clattering of dishes in the sink before the tap was turned on.

"I guess you make a good point!" Her brother yelled as he washed the dishes, "This reminds me of when we were little and would play spies! Remember how all the other kids would get mad because we spoke to each other in Spanish on our walkies and they never understood?" He chuckled, turning back to the sudsy sponge he was using to wipe the coffee pot in his hands.

It was as if he flipped a switch on in his sister's mind. He heard her racing toward the garage behind him and turned the tap off, drying his hands quickly before following her.

"What are you doing?" He asked as she dug through a box titled 'donate.' She picked things out, desperately searching for something. Finally she exhaled in relief, smiling triumphantly as she pulled out their small beat up old walkie talkies. Hers had IV engraved on the side with a faded yellow heart sticker on the back. Her brothers had MV engraved on the side with a faded blue heart sticker.

"I knew she still held onto these. She always says she's going to drop this off at a donation spot when she has the time but still hasn't." She was standing now across from her brother, holding out a piece from his childhood.

It instantly reminded him of the Christmas they opened them up together; it was a gift from their father. He said when he was younger he and his brothers tried to secretly talk to one another from a distance and he wished for something like it when he was little. Mateo cherished it, as he did with everything his father gave him. He cleared his throat, grabbing the device.

"Thanks," His voice trembled and his sister didn't push which he was thankful for. "Mom has some extra batteries in the kitchen drawer." He muttered and Irene nodded before moving back toward the kitchen.

"Alright, let's see if these ancient relics still work." She muttered, screwing the backs on again. She handed her brother his and pushed the button on the side of hers, thanking the gods when her whispers crackled to life.

"Mierda." She marveled as she peered up at her brother, a bright smile cascading her face. They laughed together, going into their rooms and speaking to each other in ghostly voices. Their stomachs hurt once they finally flopped onto the couch. They fell asleep there, like they used to when they both were the same height and partners in crime.

It was a sight that made Sofia tear up and smile as soon as she stepped into their small home. Another pair of Marvin Gaye's lyrics filled her mind as she draped a blanket over the two that night: Ah true love can conquer hate every time, give out some love and you'll find peace sublime.

And suddenly the ember sparked a flame inside of her.

JULY 2nd, 1985
A soft nudge to the left side of her face is what stirred Irene from her slumber. She opened her eyes and instantly scrunched her face in disgust when her brother's foot shoved itself into her cheek once more. She pushed it away before sitting up and stretching her body. She brought some relief to her stiff bones as she rolled her shoulders back and then stood to reach down and touch her toes. The sun was barely casting a faint luminescent glow through their curtains when she heard the muffled shriek of her alarm clock coming from her room. She rushed over to the sound and hit the button to turn it off before she reached for the two cassettes on her bookshelf.

Once she had the pieces of music in her hand she swiftly made her way to the living room again and checked on her brother, snapping a few times in front of his face to make sure he was still deep asleep. The house was quiet, she noted her mothers absence as she sat in the loveseat and curled up in the warm sunspot while she waited.

As her eyes began to droop, she heard the faint shuffling of feet at the front of her house and shook herself awake. She blinked a few times before bringing herself to get up. She swung open the front door and Eddie froze momentarily, fear coursing through him as he crouched down. She stifled a laugh, looking back at Mateo's sleeping body, before closing the door behind her and leaning against it.

"Didn't know you were easily scared, Munson." She mused quietly, crossing her arms.

Eddie stood up and met her gentle eyes, catching the mischievous glint in them. He hadn't seen her since three nights ago, when he woke up to a random phone call asking if he could pick her up from the park behind the community pool. She sounded like she'd been crying as her teeth chattered on the other line, without any hesitation he jumped in his van.

When he arrived at the park he'd seen the tear stained cheeks and tired red eyes. The first thing he did was ask if she wanted a hug to which she meekly nodded her head and then cried again in his embrace. He then cranked up the heat in his van and tried to crack some joke about how fake noodles are called "impastas" and when the joke landed miserably she let out a hearty laugh. He spent the rest of the night trying to get her to replicate her infectious laughter with funny memories of his fuzzy childhood.

Standing in front of him now, she looked tired but something about her glowed too. He was happy that she seemed content.

She was still an enigma to him, but honestly he didn't mind, he liked how she was constantly full of surprises. Usually, he ran into things fast and went full force – it was just in his nature to have a grandeur style and to be loud and expressive, many of his friends were too. He was unapologetically himself in the most colorful of ways – it was the first thing anyone noticed when they met him, whether they perceived that as good or bad was their own problem. But Irene wore herself completely different; her colors were softer, almost muted, as if she were desperately trying to hide herself away from the world. Although, after he'd chipped away the paint he suddenly began to uncover someone full of bright and exuberant layers.

Two weeks full of letters and he'd figured her out faster than anyone she'd ever met in the past five towns she lived in; faster than her own brother.

"And I didn't know you could be so cruel." He retorted, brushing off his jeans – which she noticed were ripped at the knees – before he reached down for the cassettes he placed behind one of her mother's potted plants. His eyes traveled to her relaxed frame and noticed the juxtaposition between her flowery socks and the dark green plaid pajama pants she was wearing. A shirt that read 'Only You Can Prevent Wildfires!' with a small Smokey Bear next to the words, clung to her body.

"Cute get-up." He grinned and watched as a flush crept over her face, "Not as cute as that sailor outfit you wear to work though." Irene's face fell and her lips parted in surprise. He stood there, grinning like an absolute idiot as she burned underneath his gaze. She thought she could hide her embarrassing uniform from him until the end of the summer, but apparently he had other plans and had to have cause sight of her at the mall. She was just glad he didn't go up to Scoops and leave her a stammering, sweaty palmed, red-faced mess for Robin and Steve to poke fun at.

She dropped her arms and shoved him lightly, "You creep! So what? You spying on me now?" She raised an accusatory brow before making a 'tsk' sound as she shook her head, "You're stooping pretty low, Ed." She joked and the nickname fell from her lips so effortlessly, causing Eddie's breath to slightly hitch. 

He hid his initial surprise behind a smug grin as he held his hands up, "Hey! I'm not the one keeping secrets around here." He retaliated and she rolled her eyes.

"Oh really? Says the guy who leaves mysterious oil stains on practically all of his letters like he writes them right after bathing inside of a car hood. You didn't even tell me about The Hideout or Corroded Coffin, I had to learn accidentally from Gareth!" She raised her voice slightly, making sure not to speak too loudly after she remembered her sleeping brother on the other side of the door. She flipped on a lightbulb inside Eddie's mind as his face lit up.

"Speaking of The Hideout, we're performing tonight if you...I don't know...wanna swing bye." Eddie smiled coyly as he toyed with a lock of his hair, watching her features soften as she shook her head.

"You are just something, aren't you?" She marveled as the cassettes in her right hand poked his chest. He responded with a shrug, dropping his hand, as he bobbed back and forth on his feet.

Irene looked back at the front door and then met his eyes, "My brother's probably gonna get up soon, let me walk you to your car." She offered and the two of them strolled across her lawn, underneath the rising sun. Irene took notice of the familiar skull bandana that hung from his left back pocket; his clothing choice always had the ability to fascinate her. From the handcuff belt buckle she spotted the first time they met, to the intricately detailed vest he wore with pride – she'd never met someone who expressed themself so outwardly and without hesitation. She admired that about him.

Eddie leaned against his van, waiting expectantly for her to ramble on about the artistic symbolism and meaning behind the music in her grasp, like she always had in their letters. She did, apologizing about not having enough time to write an extensive letter on her thoughts, but he didn't mind at all. He appreciated her insight and criticism and she reciprocated the same feelings when he'd go on about the instrumentals, or lack thereof, and the sometimes lackluster lyricism in the music she gave him. There were moments when they didn't agree, but it rarely turned into a huge argument over whose taste was better.

As he slowly got into his car he gave her his letter and the two swapped cassettes. He scrunched his face at the Linda Ronstadt Prisoner in Disguise tape that his ringed fingers held. He could already hear the earful of snickers he was going to get from the guys.

Irene noticed his change in facial expression and leaned her arms against the rolled down passenger window, "I promise it's the last one." She reasoned, "You haven't lived until you've heard Linda's rendition of 'Heat Wave' by Martha and the Vandellas!"

"Rena, you are going to be the death of me." He joked and for a flickering moment Irene's heart sank with fear and the color drained from her face. She felt faint as her fingers tightly curled around the window. "You okay?" Eddie asked, quickly leaning over the center console toward her. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before giving him a little dismissive wave as she shook her head.

"I'm fine, I probably just need to eat something." They locked eyes and she gave him a short reassuring smile and he nodded, returning back to his seat. There was a short pause between them, the distant sound of sprinklers and ringing of bicycle bells somewhere far off filled the silence.

"So..." Eddie trailed, catching Irene's attention. "The Hideout, tonight?" He asked, mindlessly grabbing a strand of his hair again as he watched her with eager eyes.

Irene broke away from his heavy stare and looked over at the cypress tree that stood tall on her neighbors lawn.

She thought of how important Corroded Coffin was to Eddie and the underlying intensity of the question. She didn't want to disappoint him, but she felt like a cup being drowned in the ocean of all the new situations she found herself in. How did detectives do it all? How did her mother do it all? How was she supposed to do it all?

How could she go on some undercover mission, figure out how the group of kids she still doesn't fully know connect to a monster she's seen in multiple visions, and sustain the frail relationship between her and her brother all while also trying to be a good friend?

She looked toward him again and eased his jittery nerves with a gentle smile, "I'll see what I can do." She said but deep down she felt it.

She felt like she was making a broken promise and she hated herself for it.

A/N:
hello friends, so i broke up the original chapter i had first published a while back, and added a lot more, and im actually really glad I did! im refraining from rambling because i ALWAYS do that lol, but just know there are so many parts in this chapter i like.

btw! i also added a section for sofia in the tower pinterest board & i also curated a playlist for her here (the beautiful range ms. vasquez has is so unmatched) :

i plan on making individual playlists for mateo, irene, and sam as well :)

well that's all friends! let me know what your favorite part of this chapter was (your comments truly make my day and motivate me so much to keep going — they never go unnoticed & I appreciate them all!)