Chapter Text
vida mía, cielito, corazoncito.
My life, my heaven, my little heart. Alejandro must be worried; he barely ever calls Rudy pet names, certainly not on a mission when anyone could listen to them. Alejandro's love has always been very private- he keeps his engagement ring sewn tightly into the seams of his clothes, barely ever sparing Rudy so much as a glance when there is a chance that someone could see them.
Not now. Alejandro screamed louder than Rudy had ever heard him before- if anyone had not known of their relationship before, they would have certainly known then.
Rudy blinked sluggishly. His head feels like it's about to explode, like someone has squeezed his skull into a too-tight container and his brain was threatening to spill out the seams. He could barely open his eyes- when he did, they stung and burnt as smog filled his vision.
It took a minute for his mind to catch up. Hassan. The mission. He might die here.
"Colonel." He said. He couldn't breathe- his ribs ached cruelly, either from the choking smoke or the handiwork of Hassan's soldiers- and the blood on his forehead dripped down onto his lip. "Don't. I'm not getting out."
The crackling of the fire obscures Alejandro's response. For a moment, Rodolfo does not know whether to laugh or cry- the situation is almost hilarious, a Sargent Major about to burn to death because he was too weak to disarm a threat he already knew of. It's harrowing that Alejandro will not get his body back looking pretty.
“Hassan is gone.” He coughed. The fire danced around him- funny how flames had always reminded him of Alejandro, the passion, the danger, the mercilessness. The beauty.
“I don’t give a fuck about Hassan, Rudy!” He definitely heard Alejandro that time.
The flames were tickling his fingertips. He wondered what they would do when they find him; if they do, of course, there is no guarantee he will not just be ash and dust under the feet of whichever poor soul had to come and collect him. It’ll be a closed casket, most likely.
It was for the best. He wasn't the best looking even when all his skin was not charred to ash.
His parents wouldn’t come to his funeral. They never really got on- he didn’t have many family members he was really close to. Maybe his sister, unless she was busy with his nephew. He didn't have many friends to fill the pews, in Las Almas, he was only ever known for being the quiet kid that followed Alejandro around. Maybe he could make his peace with a small service.
Would there be flowers? In life, his hay fever had been horrific. It felt strange to know that he would be another body in a box by tomorrow.
He breathed, wincing at the pain in his lungs. If he could just get himself on his back, he would at least be comfortable when the flames finally enveloped him like a pearl in the sea. If he closed his eyes, the fire could blanket him without him having to bear witness.
“Rudy!” Someone yelled for him. They’re frantic, yanking him into their arms like he is weightless. For a moment, his brain barely noticed the change of position. The moment is short, and his nerves scream, like his skin is ripping itself apart, tearing atom from atom in a flash of pain so intense he almost blacks out. He couldn’t contain his sobs.
“Rudy, vida mía, cielito, corazoncito.” Alejandro gasped. Rudy’s eyes turn to him; they are terrified, but so undeniably Rudy that Alejandro almost forgets his own rules for keeping his work life and his love separate. Someone wanted to take his husband from him before he could even marry him properly.
“‘M going to die.” Rudy said, between various sounds of agony.
“I would never let that happen,” Alejandro replied firmly. Rudy did not protest further; by then, his lungs had given away, and he was only focused on how nice it would feel for the pain to stop. He allowed himself to be lifted, pulled away from death at the very last moment.
He would be lying if he said he did not ache for the fire when he was finally taken away; for at least he was warm, and he could not feel his skin begging for mercy as Alejandro's tears cooled his face.
He passed out twice as Alejandro carried him, his head limp against his fiance's neck. He was burning hot to the touch, breath coming out in wheezes and gasps- but he could see that the stars were still in the sky. They were bright, and smoke floated across the air like clouds as Alejandro screamed at him to keep his eyes open.
He wouldn't let his head touch the dirt. Alejandro, for all his brutal comments and harsh exterior, had always been so gentle with him, preferring to kneel in the mud if it meant that he could hold Rudy's head up on his own legs as he struggled to manage the constant gushing of blood.
He could barely hear what he was saying. Had the air always been so cold outside, had he just not noticed before? Had the moon been this full before he went into the house? When he was much younger, he tried to memorise all the constellations in the sky; though there were always too many, and the bright lights of his hometown blocked his view.
"Fuck- Rudy, wake up pendejo, no puedes morir aquí!" He heard yelling. If he were to die, he would be happy with Alejandro being the last thought on his mind- his fiance was his first love and would be his last too.
He never did listen. Everything went black, and Rodolfo Parra accepted his fate.