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Diego finds himself walking into the room slowly. The room illuminated with white bright lights hung from the well-cleaned, practically spotless, white ceiling of the hospital room.
It was almost impossible for him to be comfortable in this sort of environment. He couldn’t be. Not after what he did, what he agreed to— what they all agreed to.
Now that their greed had clouded their judgement, lead by Cecilia’s twisted agenda, none of them would ever be the same again. Some physically, but most of all, emotionally. There would be no guarantee of full recovery of whatever trauma the group could’ve endured during their time in those traps.
Those goddamn traps.
Diego felt his skin crawl, the agonizing feeling of his own skin being torn away by his own hands, in a desperate need to survive. The blood. His blood— creating a large, intimidating red pool under his feet as he tears the pipe bombs out of his very flesh.
He snaps himself back into reality. He’s standing in the doorway to the hospital room- this one, being special to him in particular.
Mateo’s room.
Diego hadn’t checked up on Mateo yet. The group of four- the two men, along with Valentina and Gabriella, had been there for about a week or two now. Gabriela’s wounds were mostly emotional, as she woke up crying during most nights, having to be monitored carefully to make sure she doesn’t do anything that could label her as ‘dangerous’. Diego found it ridiculous. She was traumatized, she wasn’t a wild animal. Valentina was missing a leg. It was cut off at the thigh, covered by strong and sturdy bandages which were changed and cleaned daily. The doctors were doing their best, so that was always something Diego could find comfort in. He couldn’t find comfort in a lot of things anymore.
And Mateo, oh, Mateo..
Diego’s heart had dropped out of his chest and out through his feet when he heard the news of what had happened. It felt like his heart had sunk deep under the floorboards and landed in hell itself. Mateo had been so close to dying.
Mateo. Dead.
Diego physically shivers uncomfortably. He takes another step forward, toward the bed laying in the room.
A man was laying inside the bed. He had a hospital gown on, and many bandages around his head, keeping everything secure, and hopefully, clean.
Diego walks closer to the bed, until he stands at the very edge of it. Mateo looked asleep, though his body tensed slightly as Diego’s footsteps echoed throughout the room. Mateo looked paler than usual, and the black stubble he had seemed to be turning gray even faster than it was before. It was like he magically aged tremendously over the course of a week or two.
When Mateo’s shot open, he practically jumped out of his bed. His flinch was so severe that it even caught Diego by surprise.
“Mateo,” Diego says softly, trying to reassure the other man. He reaches over to put a hand on Mateo’s shoulder. “Soy yo.”
It takes Mateo a few seconds to stop looking so alerted and unsure, and he still seems very on edge. Maybe it was all the pain relievers he was on, or maybe he was tired? Still recovering from the intense trauma he’s had to live through?
“Diego,” Mateo sighs eventually. His eyes look dark. He looks exhausted. “te he extrañado.”
Diego gives him a small smile, “Yo también te he extrañado,” He replies, the hand on Mateo’s shoulder gently rubbing against the fabric of the hospital clothes to give him a small sense of comfort. “How are you feeling?”
Mateo takes a few seconds to reply. He’s frowning when he finally meets Diego’s eyes, “I don’t know.” He answers honestly.
Diego takes a deep breath, his hand dropping back to his side. Mateo’s hurt feels like it’s sending daggers into his heart, and the deep scars on his arms— covered by many bandages, feel like they’re beginning to intensively throb even harder than before.
“Lo lamento, Mateo. I wish I was there.”
Mateo shakes his head, slowly, and he ends up slightly wincing due to the motion. He looks completely dejected. “None of it should’ve happened.” He whispered, a faraway look in his eyes, “We should’ve never agreed to that stupid scam.”
“Cecilia was a monster-“
“It was our choice.” Mateo quickly cuts Diego off, scoffing slightly. He looked down at his hands, which were slightly shaking. “I feel like a monster. I didn’t want to hurt anyone. I just… I wanted to— I wanted to make a good life for my daughter.”
Diego didn’t know what to say. He just stared at Mateo with sympathy and so much care. He took a deep breath, his eyes scanning over the bandage wrapped around Mateo’s head for a moment. Mateo came so close to dying. What would happen to his daughter then? Her mother wasn’t around.
“Can I stay with you?” Diego suddenly asks, “Por favor?”
Mateo simply nods. Diego sits at the edge of the hospital bed, and his hand reaches for Mateo again, holding his hand this time, interlocking their fingers and giving him a gentle squeeze.
Mateo finally smiles, albeit a small one, but a smile nonetheless.
“Gracias, Diego.”
“Of course.” Diego gives Mateo a little smile in return, the ache of his arms hurting a little less.
“I love you, y’know that?”
“I know. I love you too.”