Being alive is nice and all, but once the immediate crisis of their half-drowned bunkmate is resolved and there's nothing else to distract them, Luis catches himself watching Leon.
Maybe more accurately, staring holes in him. Who breaks first, he wonders, which one of them will be the first to broach the great divide.
It was a little like falling from a cliff - saying their tearful goodbyes and letting go, only to realize that the fall was only a few feet after all. And now they had to look at one another and live with what was said.
But Leon knows more than Luis does. And that's enough to drive Luis to break first.
"Are you--" Okay? That's a silly question, he guesses. Rallying, he tries again, struggling to find his familiar charm. "Either all your impressive tactical gear met one stick of dynamite too many, or you made it to a hospital in one piece," he tries again. Unspoken lies the question about Ashley- the plural "you," as it were. She was Leon's mission, if he was safe that meant that she had to be too.
But if Leon could confirm it, Luis would appreciate it.
The only reason Leon doesn’t watch Luis with the same intensity in return is he doesn’t want to get caught staring. He still slips occasionally, whenever there’s a moment Luis takes his eyes off of him and he forgets himself - staring with hawklike intensity as if he doesn’t quite believe what he’s seeing. This wouldn’t be the first time he’d run into someone he once counted an ally (a friend?) seeming to rise from certain death, or even the second time within the past while weirdly enough, but…
With Krauser and Ada, things had been different. More complicated, in a way that made things almost easier, in a way.
And so the two of them play a stupid cat and mouse game of staring at each other and not saying anything about it, until Luis breaks the silence first.
“Yeah. We both did. They were just about to wrap up the last round of testing to make sure we didn’t bring home any more unwanted guests -“ he taps his chest, just over the new scar on his sternum, for emphasis - “when I woke up here. We’re in the clear.”
Thanks to you. The sentiment catches in his throat, harder to express than it should be. Leon glances away, folding his arms over his chest.
“She… asked about you, first thing when I found her,” is what he manages to say instead. It feels important to tell him. To let him know that Ashley remembered him too.
Luis catches the way Leon taps his chest immediately, and it feels like a weight lifted off of his own. In his studying of Leon, he had caught the various clues - the lack of blackened veins and bloodshot eyes being a major one - enough to hope that Leon had made it to his lab. But it felt like putting too much importance on himself to ask that way point-blank.
He smiles fondly, swallows to hide the way his throat goes tight when Leon mentions that Ashley asked about him.
"I'm sorry to have disappointed her," he says, around all the other things he could say. "...But I'm glad. That both of you are alright."
"You can make it up to her by getting out of whatever this is safe," says Leon, resolutely. "Then it's just a question of if she'll forgive me for telling her you were dead."
It's a joke, but a heavy one, and one that comes with the question: how are you not? He doesn't expect Luis to answer - he'd seemed just as surprised as Leon was, if not more - but he watches him carefully all the same, just in case there is some hidden insight he's picked up since then.
Luis huffs obligingly with a smile at the joke. Leon has seen the wound- or what's left of it- better than Luis himself can; it's hard to fake that kind of miracle, but harder to fake dying. Or mostly dying, maybe.
"Perhaps it's best you thought I was," he says, maybe the first thing he's said that wasn't layered. "I was already gone, makes it easier to leave me behind, eh." Crucially, there isn't a trace of bitterness in his voice. It would have been a tough call - but Luis couldn't have faulted him for making it.
Leon thinks very hard in that moment about how long he spent at Luis's side, at what they'd both thought was the end. He'd counted the seconds, measuring the slowing of his pulse, watching his breath grow weaker and weaker. It was a waste of valuable time, he knows - every second had counted, when it came to getting the suppressant to Ashley - but he hadn't been able to bring himself to go, not even after Luis had lost consciousness. He'd only been able to tear himself away once his hand had started to grow cold in his, when there was no one left to sit vigil for.
He doesn't say anything about that, though. He can't.
"Yeah. But you're here now, and - I don't know if you can tell, but the wound's already scarred over. While all of mine are still stitched up and healing." He takes a deep breath. "It doesn't make sense. But... Aqua - he looked like someone had grabbed him out of the ocean and somehow dumped him in here before he could blink, and someone else I was talking to said last he checked the year was 2018, and portals to other dimensions had been opening up all over the place for three years. I don't think he was trying to fuck with me, either. Something's very wrong here, and I can't get my head around it."
"2018?" Luis repeats. "Did you ask if there were flying cars yet?" It's a joke, of course, with 2018 only being 14 years away. But he's trying to lighten the mood.
"I think for now we keep an open mind." He leans back thoughtfully, able to mostly mask the grimace as a twinge of pain runs down his spine.
"Sorry to say, Sancho, but I don't think we'll be shooting our way out of this one."
"Must've slipped my mind. Apparently there's dragons and griffins, though."
Leon watches with a twinge of sympathy as Luis sits back - anybody else might miss it, but Leon's seen enough people try to hide how much injuries are bothering them (and done the same himself) to recognize it on sight. There's not much he can do about it right now, though.
"Damn. That's most of what I'm good for. You got any ideas in that big brain of yours?"
Luis does, admittedly, briefly get a boyish sparkle in his eye at the mention of dragons.
But he's a grown man who only pretends to believe in fairy tales, so he has to rein it in.
"Mm... Not enough data for a hypothesis, I'm afraid." They've only been here a couple hours, after all. But the look on his face is more akin to someone being presented with a new puzzle to solve, than concern.
"Right now, I think we try and find out more about these rules, and whoever gave them to us."
[ After making an abrupt exit from the weird not-a-wake in the greenhouse, Leon half drags Luis to the kitchen and is relieved to find it empty. It's not the most private location in the house, but it'll have to do for now. ]
Sorry about the dramatics but... Back in Valdelobos, when I was looking for Ashley, I went through a lot of stuff I found lying around, trying to find clues. Couple of them were journals, and some of those talked about a kid who used to live there with his grandfather. Smart, liked Don Quixote... disappeared, after something happened to his grandfather. [ He glances away for a moment, trying to collect himself, before looking back at Luis. ] Maybe I'm seeing connections where there aren't any, here but. That was you, wasn't it?
[ Leon isn’t sure what he expected either, honestly. It’s not a surprise that Luis is taking it so well, given everything else the guy’s been through and all but laughed off, but with the confirmation Leon can’t help but think back to his own experience in Raccoon City. How horrific that had been for him, even barely knowing anyone. How much worse would it have been if it had been his hometown?
How much worse would it have been knowing he was, in some part, responsible? ]
… I’m sorry. [ It’s all he can think to say. It feels woefully inadequate. ]
[Luis does laugh, at that, but it's more of a dry huff. What is he going to say? That he wished he'd stayed dead, so at least he'd be dead with them? It would be a lie - Luis is a coward, in the end. Just as big a fool as Don Quixote.]
There was nothing you could have done differently.
[ Leon nods in understanding, his own mind going to Marvin, to Elliot, to the man in the gun store and his daughter. Who but him remembers them? Who knew them as they were in life, not in their terrified final moments? ]
... You want to tell me about any of them? I get it if not, but. [ It doesn't hurt to offer to listen. Even if it might be weird, telling the man who was responsible for putting so many of them down. ]
As the party winds down and people start filing out to get ready to try to sleep (or stare at the ceiling and have a crisis in most cases, more likely), Leon hands Luis a stack of plates and picks up his own, jerking his head towards the kitchen.
"You're on cleanup duty today. Let's go."
He looks at Luis expectantly. The dishes are an excuse to get some privacy, mostly - there's a few people still milling around the sitting room, and Leon figures this conversation might be better served elsewhere.
Luis looks up just in time to have a stack of dishes handed to him, which he leaves hanging long enough to set his guitar aside, before standing to follow with a shrug.
Leon stays quiet until they're in the kitchen, where he sets about loading the dishwasher.
"How are you holding up?" he asks, not looking up from his task. He's paying attention, but it's one of those times where if he doesn't keep his hands busy he feels like he might start thinking, and he can't have that right now. "Didn't see you around earlier. You missed out on having to round up a bunch of traumatized people to force them to eat."
Luis chuckles, rolling up his sleeves after he sets the dishes down on the counter.
"When you said 'cleanup duty' I thought you were going to make me wash them by hand," he jokes, taking a spot at the sink to rinse off any dishes that aren't mostly clean, and pass them to Leon.
"What? Nah, you're not being punished or anything. Just wanted an excuse to get you all to myself for a minute."
He takes the plates as they're handed to him, loading them into the dishwasher.
"How's she doing? After... all of that." She didn't throw up this time, which is good, but that's kind of all that can really be said for silver linings. "She seemed, uh. More awake, at least. I talked to her a little, but mostly about the house."
In general, but also with her in specific. Leon gets the impression Luis is even closer to her than he is, and while he doesn’t want to be too nosy, well. Given the circumstances…
“It was good seeing her out and about with the others,” he says. “But. You don’t think the timing of the rituals and her recovering are related, do you?”
He looks at Luis expectantly. They’re two for two on those coming one after the other, but that’s not enough evidence on its own, right? At least that’s what Leon expects a scientist would tell him. Or what he hopes.
Instead of answering immediately, Luis squirms under Leon's question. It's so much worse when it's innocently asked - he almost misses Leon manhandling him for answers.
"I'm going to trust you with a secret, alright Sancho?"
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nothingbadeverhappensto) wrote2025-05-01 11:19 am
Wednesday, after Room 1 introductions
Maybe more accurately, staring holes in him. Who breaks first, he wonders, which one of them will be the first to broach the great divide.
It was a little like falling from a cliff - saying their tearful goodbyes and letting go, only to realize that the fall was only a few feet after all. And now they had to look at one another and live with what was said.
But Leon knows more than Luis does. And that's enough to drive Luis to break first.
"Are you--" Okay? That's a silly question, he guesses. Rallying, he tries again, struggling to find his familiar charm. "Either all your impressive tactical gear met one stick of dynamite too many, or you made it to a hospital in one piece," he tries again. Unspoken lies the question about Ashley- the plural "you," as it were. She was Leon's mission, if he was safe that meant that she had to be too.
But if Leon could confirm it, Luis would appreciate it.
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a friend?) seeming to rise from certain death, or even the second time within the past while weirdly enough, but…With Krauser and Ada, things had been different. More complicated, in a way that made things almost easier, in a way.
And so the two of them play a stupid cat and mouse game of staring at each other and not saying anything about it, until Luis breaks the silence first.
“Yeah. We both did. They were just about to wrap up the last round of testing to make sure we didn’t bring home any more unwanted guests -“ he taps his chest, just over the new scar on his sternum, for emphasis - “when I woke up here. We’re in the clear.”
Thanks to you. The sentiment catches in his throat, harder to express than it should be. Leon glances away, folding his arms over his chest.
“She… asked about you, first thing when I found her,” is what he manages to say instead. It feels important to tell him. To let him know that Ashley remembered him too.
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He smiles fondly, swallows to hide the way his throat goes tight when Leon mentions that Ashley asked about him.
"I'm sorry to have disappointed her," he says, around all the other things he could say. "...But I'm glad. That both of you are alright."
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It's a joke, but a heavy one, and one that comes with the question: how are you not? He doesn't expect Luis to answer - he'd seemed just as surprised as Leon was, if not more - but he watches him carefully all the same, just in case there is some hidden insight he's picked up since then.
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"Perhaps it's best you thought I was," he says, maybe the first thing he's said that wasn't layered. "I was already gone, makes it easier to leave me behind, eh." Crucially, there isn't a trace of bitterness in his voice. It would have been a tough call - but Luis couldn't have faulted him for making it.
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He doesn't say anything about that, though. He can't.
"Yeah. But you're here now, and - I don't know if you can tell, but the wound's already scarred over. While all of mine are still stitched up and healing." He takes a deep breath. "It doesn't make sense. But... Aqua - he looked like someone had grabbed him out of the ocean and somehow dumped him in here before he could blink, and someone else I was talking to said last he checked the year was 2018, and portals to other dimensions had been opening up all over the place for three years. I don't think he was trying to fuck with me, either. Something's very wrong here, and I can't get my head around it."
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"I think for now we keep an open mind." He leans back thoughtfully, able to mostly mask the grimace as a twinge of pain runs down his spine.
"Sorry to say, Sancho, but I don't think we'll be shooting our way out of this one."
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Leon watches with a twinge of sympathy as Luis sits back - anybody else might miss it, but Leon's seen enough people try to hide how much injuries are bothering them (and done the same himself) to recognize it on sight. There's not much he can do about it right now, though.
"Damn. That's most of what I'm good for. You got any ideas in that big brain of yours?"
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But he's a grown man who only pretends to believe in fairy tales, so he has to rein it in.
"Mm... Not enough data for a hypothesis, I'm afraid." They've only been here a couple hours, after all. But the look on his face is more akin to someone being presented with a new puzzle to solve, than concern.
"Right now, I think we try and find out more about these rules, and whoever gave them to us."
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Saturday, Week 0
Sorry about the dramatics but... Back in Valdelobos, when I was looking for Ashley, I went through a lot of stuff I found lying around, trying to find clues. Couple of them were journals, and some of those talked about a kid who used to live there with his grandfather. Smart, liked Don Quixote... disappeared, after something happened to his grandfather. [ He glances away for a moment, trying to collect himself, before looking back at Luis. ] Maybe I'm seeing connections where there aren't any, here but. That was you, wasn't it?
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The corner of his mouth tightens for a second, like he's trying to stifle a laugh.]
You caught me. The prodigal son of Valdelobos.
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How much worse would it have been knowing he was, in some part, responsible? ]
… I’m sorry. [ It’s all he can think to say. It feels woefully inadequate. ]
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There was nothing you could have done differently.
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I can still wish it hadn't had to be that way. That things could've been different.
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They were good people, once. They don't deserve to be remembered like that.
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... You want to tell me about any of them? I get it if not, but. [ It doesn't hurt to offer to listen. Even if it might be weird, telling the man who was responsible for putting so many of them down. ]
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I still remember the day the padre arrived to town. I was very small, but even still he was the biggest man I'd ever seen.
I asked him if he was a giant, like in the stories.
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Saturday, Week 1
As the party winds down and people start filing out to get ready to try to sleep (or stare at the ceiling and have a crisis in most cases, more likely), Leon hands Luis a stack of plates and picks up his own, jerking his head towards the kitchen.
"You're on cleanup duty today. Let's go."
He looks at Luis expectantly. The dishes are an excuse to get some privacy, mostly - there's a few people still milling around the sitting room, and Leon figures this conversation might be better served elsewhere.
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"Fair enough."
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"How are you holding up?" he asks, not looking up from his task. He's paying attention, but it's one of those times where if he doesn't keep his hands busy he feels like he might start thinking, and he can't have that right now. "Didn't see you around earlier. You missed out on having to round up a bunch of traumatized people to force them to eat."
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"When you said 'cleanup duty' I thought you were going to make me wash them by hand," he jokes, taking a spot at the sink to rinse off any dishes that aren't mostly clean, and pass them to Leon.
"...I went to check on Pratibha."
cw: passing emeto mention
He takes the plates as they're handed to him, loading them into the dishwasher.
"How's she doing? After... all of that." She didn't throw up this time, which is good, but that's kind of all that can really be said for silver linings. "She seemed, uh. More awake, at least. I talked to her a little, but mostly about the house."
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"She is better, and thank God for that," he says, loosely rinsing the last of the dishes and then drying his hands.
"That doesn't mean that I'm not still worried, unfortunately."
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In general, but also with her in specific. Leon gets the impression Luis is even closer to her than he is, and while he doesn’t want to be too nosy, well. Given the circumstances…
“It was good seeing her out and about with the others,” he says. “But. You don’t think the timing of the rituals and her recovering are related, do you?”
He looks at Luis expectantly. They’re two for two on those coming one after the other, but that’s not enough evidence on its own, right? At least that’s what Leon expects a scientist would tell him. Or what he hopes.
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"I'm going to trust you with a secret, alright Sancho?"
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cw: passing emeto mention
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cw: vague early aughts homophobia
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