Chapter Text
All the words left unspoken
Are the pages I write
On my knees, and I'm hoping
That someone holds me tonight
Hold me tonight –Hollywood Undead "Outside"
The doctors all said it was miracle when he woke up; there had been no permanent damage, at least not physical damage.
Even now, 2 weeks later, he couldn't find an explanation for what had happened or what he had been thinking. Other than, he had wanted the memories to stop, the voices to stop, he had just wanted everything to stop. He spent a week in the mental ward going through countless rounds of therapy before he was released only to learn that CENTRAAL had ruled him temporarily unfit for duty and would have to go to HQ for an evaluation, which that was only a week away. Fear passed through him at the thought; if he wasn't cleared he would probably be discharged and tried for crimes against humanity.
He could only hope that the agents in charge would see that he had gotten better and wasn't a danger to himself or others. Mostly because he had gotten better even if he couldn't say so outright, in his coma he hadn't been able to escape the memories he had been holding back and now was at peace with what happened, to an extent or almost not at all. At least he didn't lose his mind; he could go back and pull those memories forward.
The walk to the apartment from the bar wasn't horribly far; maybe four blocks if that, still he had been hesitant about letting Reina walk it alone. The leader of her old gang had been getting closer to finding her and the second he did, she would be dead. It had easily been his biggest fear a week into his mission. The second Reina had thrown her drink in his face for trying to be fresh with her, he had bought her a second drink in apology and then found himself falling in love with each conversation and stolen glance.
It was a crazy notion to worry about her, after all Reina could hold her own, anyone who was one of La Sombra del Diablo could. That was something he knew from firsthand experience, he had swallowed thickly the memory of his initiation to the group trying to creep into his mind. Instead he had focused on how Reina had pinned him to the floor after catching sight of the branding on his back despite the fact that he easily had 100lbs on her, but something kept gnawing at the bad of his mind.
Then upon seeing the small apartment building, he ran, suddenly fearing the worst. He should have never let Reina leave without him as he took the stairs two at a time until he reached their floor. His stomach dropped as he reached the door to their apartment to see it wide open. It looked like it had been forced open. Entering the apartment with caution Rico realized how quiet it was, every part of him was praying that the splatters and smears of blood he had seen among the broken glass and knocked over furniture belonged to someone else. After clearing the kitchen and living area he went to the bedroom, it was still too quiet, and he prayed that maybe Reina had only been knocked out or hiding, but and what he found made him sick.
He approached their bed slowly, doing his best to ignore the way Reina’s legs were spread and her clothes torn. With a trembling hand he reached out and closed her eyes, fingers trailing down to cheek (her skin was cold, too cold) stopping before the cut stretching across her neck.
Rico let go of the memory, coming back to the present and taking comfort in the harsh sounds of New York and the bitter chill of the wind as he sat on the edge of the pool watching the water ripple and morph the moon's reflection into odd shapes. His fingers twitched and he fought the urge to charge downstairs and smash the doll to pieces, something he had wanted to do upon seeing it when he woke up. It made him sick to think about how attached he had gotten to it, how he twisted the memory of the woman he loved and put it in to a piece of porcelain. Death certainly had a funny way of putting everything into perspective.
The sharp yet musty scent of cigarette smoke assaulted his senses and he looked over to see that Kowalski had joined him at the pool, only he was wearing shorts so he could dip his legs in to the water. He frowned at the sight, if there was one thing Rico couldn't stand it was cigarettes; smoking was a disgusting habit in his opinion, but more importantly how had Kowalski snuck up on him?
"Gross." he grunted causing the taller man to look down sheepishly as he tapped the cigarette and watched the loose ash fall.
"Sorry, Rico, you just missed a big fight and my feathers have been in quite a kerfuffle as of late."
Rico knew exactly who and what the big fight was about. At first coming home had been heaven everyone had been there to welcome him back. It was nice feeling, but after the first day, everything started to change. Everyone was cautious around him, choosing words carefully, and popping in at random times to ask if he was okay. It was amazing he had been able to use the bathroom without someone going with him. Private had even followed him to his studio when he had a moment of time to cover the painting of Reina up only to see that someone had beat him to it.
The worst was how they tried to ask the one question that everyone wanted to know the answer to, but they never asked him outright. As if they didn't believe that he did not intend to kill himself, he had never been the suicidal type. Or maybe he should say the worst was how Skipper would talk like he wasn't there; Private would do it at times, but not as often as Skipper. Like no one on the team trusted him outside of Kowalski, which to be honest wasn't a surprising reaction, but after 12 years he found it rather insulting.
"About me?" he finally asked and Kowalski let out a long-suffering sigh confirming what he already knew.
"Yeah, but it's not your fault, Skipper is blaming himself and Private…well you know." It was Rico's turn to sigh then, it wasn't that Private hated him. The youngest member of the team just didn't exactly trust him; they had every different backgrounds and had grown up in very different environments and had very different attitudes about what was right and what was wrong. They were at odds most of the times and Rico had no doubt that Private believed he was completely off his rocker and should be put away.
"Yeah, can't help it." And he couldn't, he'd been taken from his family and home in Costa Rica to be turned into what was essentially a child soldier by the La Sombra del Diablo until he made his first kill and was branded a sinner, making him one of them.
"Don't take it to heart, if Private even had a life like mine he would be more understanding. It might be easier if you just told everyone what happened." Kowalski voice was soft and Rico knew what the older man was referring to. It wasn’t often Kowalski spoke of his childhood especially of the times after his mother’s death.
"Can't, don’t remember.” It wasn’t the whole truth, it was more like there were just holes in his memory, spots of lost time. Still Kowalski smiled at him sadly accepting the answer before grinding his cigarette out.
A heavy silence lingered between them, it wasn’t that there wasn’t anything left to be said- Rico just didn’t know what could be said. And he would have to say something to even have the slightest chance of staying on the team, there was so much against him that CENTRAAL could easily rule him permanently unfit for duty and unfit for society. He’d be put away where he wouldn’t be able to hurt himself or anyone else. Which might actually be for the best when he considered how many people had gotten hurt or worse from getting to close to him, people like Reina and before that, Miguel his true first love that no one knew about.
“Hey,” Kowalski whispered and Rico nearly jumped out of his skin when Kowalski’s hand brushed his. "I won't let them take you away and if they do, they better have room for me."
Rico let out a shaky laugh before pulling Kowalski into a hug. He was surprised when Kowalski returned it and didn’t seem to care that he was crying into his shoulder. When had he even started crying?
"Thank you." The words were garbled but he knew Kowalski could understand what he had said. It was an echo of the first words he had ever spoken to Kowalski.
“No need to thank me, we’re Penguins and Penguins-”
“Never swim alone.” Rico finished pulling away from Kowalski, vaguely wondering what Skipper would say if he had been there to witness their little moment. He’d probably scold them for being so unmanly and the thought made Rico smile. He only had a week until his evaluation and if at least one of his teammates believed in him, he would accept whatever decision CENTRAAL made.
Just a little over a week later CENTRAAL’s decision had Rico at The Groove celebrating that the whole team had believed in him and spoke on his behalf, earning him what was essentially probation. There had been a fair number of tears shed, not that anyone outside of the team and CENTRAAL would ever know.
He had been amazed at how Skipper and Private had jumped in to defend him after Kowalski had given his statement, then all three of them had threatened to walk if they took him off the team and out of the program. It was one of the first times in a long time he felt like he was valued as person and not just another tool.
Still he felt off as if he had been trying to fill a hole with an ill-fitting piece by forcing it in, but finally it broke free and was now rattling around to remind him that something was missing.
Of course, watching Marlene drag Skipper out to the dance floor from his spot at the bar helped stir the odd feeling. And while Private attempted to be Kowalski’s wingman in the man’s pursuit of Doris, was worth a chuckle or two, in combination with all his thoughts of Reina and if he was brutally honest with himself also thoughts of Miguel in the last few days, it lead to a bitter realization. He missed and craved companionship, something that it he couldn’t have or at least it seemed that way.
“For a free man you seem to be… how they say… down in the dumps.”
Rico turned back to the bar in time to see Julien set some type of fruity cocktail in front of him. He couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow in suspicion, it wasn’t that Julien wasn’t capable of being nice, it was just that his majesty was often too wrapped up in himself to notice others. The denial was on the tip of Rico’s tongue when Julien shook his head.
“It is not wise to lie to a king, it is even less wise to lie to me. Now tell me, why do you look so… not happy?”
Rico glanced at his teammates once more before turning his attention back to Julien and accepting the drink that was not nearly as sweet as he expected it to be. Kowalski had always offered to listen whenever he needed to talk, but Rico knew there were some things that he couldn’t talk about…at least not with anyone on the team. Perhaps Julien would be just as good of a listener.