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All of this Project La Mancha business was Ashely’s idea from top to bottom.
Who else would have three separate baby animal posters (Kitten, puppy, and penguin chick) all telling him not to smoke in the lab?
At least they were there to keep him company in the lab, along with the miniature gators: Athos,
Porthos, Aramis, and D'Artagnan courtesy of the elusive Dr. Chambers. Along with all of her files - which seemed to be more of a collection of other people’s paperwork, half-filled notebooks, and a couple of mugs holding coffee-stained post-it notes.
Hopefully her samples were better labeled.
Still, even if she did accidentally kill him, at least it would be by someone who was just as much as a bleeding heart as he was and at least twice as smart. Hopefully she would be the same in person.
If nothing else, it at least would be somebody else to crawl through Wesker’s files who didn’t need a break whenever the phrase LPS 25 appeared like a jump scare. Time he couldn’t afford - not with Wesker eager to pick up where Saddler left off.
Not that today was a good example - a simple and polite email request from Dr. Chambers turned into a whole day looking through her files, learning about the G-Virus (so much had happened during his years locked away) which lead to a few ideas on her work on reconstructing the cure just in case it ever resurfaced, and just how was he going to ask Sherry for a blood sample without losing his head. . .
“Luis.” A voice above him simply said but Luis was already breaking out into goosebumps. Only one person was allowed in the lab. . .Luis was already trying to figure out his excuse on why he get distracted, and hope it would be enough to alleviate some of Saddler’s wrath as he looked up-
Instead of red eyes shadowed by a hood, it was dark blue eyes over a worried expression.
Chris. Just Chris. It was dizzying as his mind fast forwarded to the present day.
“You need a break. Dinner at my place. Food should be nearly ready.”
Dinner? It was that late already? Luis’ growling stomach told him so before he even checked the clock.
“Gracias Señor but I must pass.” He could grab something quick later - once he made actual progress. “Another time, my treat-” Luis’ attempt at a polite refusal was cut off by a yank on the back of the chair, rolling it away from his desk. Chris spun it to be facing him before scooping Luis up as easily as he was a ragdoll.
“I swear as soon as you nerds get your doctor degrees, you forget how to eat,” Chris grumbled.
Instincts to fawn and submit warred with the fact he wanted to tell Chris he was being asshole and he should be safe enough to do so here and just couldn’t get a grip on all of this, not even a shaky one and he really need more coffee or maybe less coffee. . . As Luis’ thoughts chased themselves in circles, Chris left behind the lab and was up the stairs and through one of the extended stay quarters.
“Chris, just because you can bridal carry everyone else around, doesn’t mean you should whenever you just want to!” Leon’s voice snapped Luis to attention.
"You asked me to get him," Chris replied as he slid Luis in a chair next to Leon. Leon's hand was over Luis', giving his hand the "are you alright?" squeeze. One that Luis had learned well, during their outings with Ashley whenever she got time off to drag them to the tourist spots of Washington D.C. (a city that always seemed to have more tourists than actual residents; one of the many things that made this place so odd) whenever the crowd pushed against them, or loud sirens, or really anything. Ashley even gave up on rolling her eyes at Leon after a while, just giving him a simple nod.
The same nod that Luis gave Leon now, letting the other man relax just a smidge.
"No, I asked if you had seen him since he hadn’t responded to my text messages,” Leon corrected Chris.
“I don’t remember you texting me. . .” He must have accidentally set his phone to silent or something.
“And this is why I got him - he was starting to go weird in the lab. Before long, he’s going to be pointing his gun at the test tubes, demanding answers.” Satisfied, Chris walked away into a brightly lit kitchen.
“There’s no need to be hyperbolic, that’s my job,” Luis retorted.
“Hyperbolic? Why don’t you ask Rebecca about that? ” Chris called from the kitchen. “By the way, what do you two want to drink?”
“The usual." Panic fully receded, allowing Luis to actually look around. Not the sparse and Sparatian quarters he was expecting. instead it looked like the home of a deranged granny with mania for knitting. It wasn't just cozies and blankets. It was the rainbow knitted pot plant holders with thick bunches of medical herbs hanging from the ceiling, a bright blue dog bed where…well something dog shaped slept, (Luis was pretty sure that dogs were supposed to have skin covering all their muscle and bones. . . ), and even a wall hanging with bright flames claiming that everything was alright next to a photo of a nighttime cityscape.
“What’s the usual?”
“Raw eggs in milk.” Luis’ disgusted expression drew a laugh out of Leon.
“Any chance you have beer?” Luis hadn’t considered the true horror of his situation - this was dinner cooked by Chris Redfield and if he shared Leon’s idea about what counted as acceptable food. .. Luis would be lucky if it was just a plain chicken breast with unseasoned rice.
“Yeah, we do. Just don’t ask for margaritas. All we have is Jill’ custom mix and I don’t know if any of us have the spice tolerance for that.”
"Wait. . . If Chris can bridal carry anyone, does that include you?" Luis asked under Chris' clattering in the kitchen.
Leon's face turned a faint red as he cleared his throat too loudly. “Talking about Jill, where is she?”
"She's having a girl's night out with Ingrid and Ashley. She's found an escape room place that hasn't banned her yet."
"Banned her?"
"Yeah, the last text I got from her was that she broke her pocket knife but got the door open, Ingird got into the computer systems and got the codes but the lights aren't working anywhere in the building. They lost Ashley when she accidentally got into another group's room. So as expected."
The oven door must have been opened with all the other clattering, with the smells of garlic, and onion escaping, raising Luis’ hopes for an edible dinner. Even with Chris returning with two glasses of milk and eggs (which did not look anymore appealing in person) and a beer that advertised that it had seven grams of protein over anything else.
“That’s a shame,” Leon politely responded as Chris wandered back into the kitchen.
“It just means you are going to wait for her to get over her hangover tomorrow before you two show off some new tricks.” This time the clattering eventually became a sound Luis could recognize, a knife against a cutting board.
“I meant, it might have been nice to see her in a more casual setting.”
Chris’ snort was powerful enough that it was audible over the precise quick fire chopping. “It’ll take more than a dinner invitation to get that from Jill. She doesn’t relax around people she doesn’t trust. Don’t take it personally - she doesn’t trust anyone easily.”
What Chris really meant was that she didn’t trust Luis. For one, it was impossible to think of anyone that wouldn’t trust Leon; he was straightforward with his protective ferocity and probably couldn’t tell a lie to save his life. Second, he had seen the way her eyes had scanned him over during their first meeting, when Ashley insisted on a tour. Measuring how easy it would be to hide his body. When her eyes finally met his, all they held were smoldering rage.
The memory alone was enough for Luis to finally try the questionable beer. Not horrible. Maybe not bad at all.
The chopping stopped, replaced by more indistinct sounds. “Anyway, how have you two been finding this whole La Mancha business?”
“It’s been great for me!” Luis was glad for the distraction from thinking about how Jill was going to kill him. “Ashley has been beyond saintly kind in helping me get settled in and get things like you know actual clothes. She’s like a platonic sugar mama.”
“Luis, she’s your boss. She’s supposed to pay you.”
“My last three didn’t.” And if he was lucky, Ashley would never figure she didn’t actually have to pay him either.
“wait…Wesker and Saddler not paying makes sense but not even The Organization?”
“What’s the Organization?”
“Ada’s employer… we think.”
“That’s their actual name? And no, they didn’t pay, well not directly. You could fill out requisition forms to get anything that wasn’t already available to you from the facilities privileges your position allowed or some other nonsense like that.”
“Well, we aren’t fully sure if that’s their name or not, it’s just what we are calling them for now. And also, what insane bullshit is that? That sounds less like a company and more like a high end scientist prison in disguise.”
“It wasn’t like that for everyone, just. . .liabilities.” Luis gave a shrug. “ Better a gilded cage than a harsh one after all.”
Luis realized he messed up when Leon gave his hand another squeeze. He didn’t need to look over at Leon to know that he had softened for a moment. “Is this-”
“It’s fine,” Luis interrupted, maybe a bit too forcibly. But the real answer of “it’s complicated,” would only hurt Leon and there was no need for that.
“I would say you should leave those off your resume then, but since lab equipment doesn’t need resumes, you should be good.” Chris came in at the right moment to cut off any further questions from Leon, balancing huge bowls on his arms like an experienced waiter. Maybe he had been one though the image of Chris trying skirt between tables and passing people was a comedy skit waiting to happen.
“Oye, I might aspire to greater things in life.” Thankfully the inviting smells from the kitchen came along with the food, and while he didn’t recognize everything in the brown and green bowl, the occasional red tomato and black olive was really all the encouragement his stomach needed.
“Like being a copier?” Chris asked as he put down a bowl of yogurt on the table. “By the way, this goes on top if you want some.” Of course Leon, was going for some while Luis was still contemplating if Chris’ based his serving size off of horses instead of humans.
“I said greater, not lesser. I was thinking finicky luxury car.” At an actual table, with actual people, habits long buried came back to the surface. His hands folding together instead of going for his fork, eyes closing with the words Benedic, Domine on his lips.
Luis wasn’t sure what was harder to give up: religion or cigarettes. What he did know is that he was grateful to Leon and Chris for those few seconds of silence.
Even if he did open his eyes to seeing Chris leaning down, putting down a bowl of raw chicken for the dog(?) who woke up with a yawn that showed off just how long it’s fangs were compared to a normal dog before it started to work on the chicken with satisfied little growls.
“Is it safe to feed a dog raw chicken?” Leon asked.
“Not normally, but the T-Virus makes Good Boy pretty immune to all other diseases along with anything not raw giving him an upset stomach.” A T-virus mutated dog. Of course Chris would think that it’s a good pet.
Luis tried to ignore the bio-weapon eating next to them, that would probably soon decide they looked tasty as well, and get back to his own meal.
“Anyway, Luis you would go crazy after a week sitting in a garage doing nothing.”
“True, but being pampered would be a nice change. Compared to normal percussive method of maintenance I'm used to-”
“You aren’t supposed to hit lab equipment,” Leon said with a severe frown.
“Well you aren’t supposed to use bunsen burners to light cigarettes or store mutating agent in the lunchroom fridge, but it doesn’t stop it from happening.”
Chris joined them at the table.“Okay, I think we all have lost track of what this metaphor is supposed to be about.” He picked up his silverware but paused while scanning Luis’ and Leon’s faces for their reaction. Leon gave an appreciative grunt as Luis’ quickly shoved a piece of chicken in his mouth.
The flavor was as savory and hearty as the smells (thankfully) but there was a nostalgic tinge to it as well. Nostalgic? Luis closed his eyes to taste it better, and memories sprang up of a wooden table smoothed by time, a crackling fire under a dented boiling pot, and a gentle hand on his shoulder as he wiped away tears. “Remember the more the onion makes you cry, the better it tastes when cooked.”
Luis opened his eyes before he joined his past self.
Chris gave a cheeky smile. “Must be pretty good if it got you to shut up.”
“Or just so bad I was shocked into silence.”
“Since you’re taken another bite, I don’t think that,” Chris parried back.
“Maybe I’m just worried about offending a man who can break me in half.”
“That would be easier to believe, if you didn’t ask me yesterday ‘if I owned any clothes that weren’t more boring than staring at a wall,” Leon grumbled out between bites.
“It was specifically a beige wall.”
“You two must keep family dinners lively.” An awkward silence hung after Chris’ words. “Goddamn it, you two are orphans too, aren't you?”
“It's what you get for asking,” Leon snapped his eyes firmly down at his food. Clearly Chris had hit a sore spot. Chris didn’t press, his eyes looking down at his own bowl. The awkward silence returned even heavier.
“Um, so I like all the knitted cozies?” Luis asked just to break the awkward silence.
Chris looked up with a beaming smile. “Thanks, it took me a while to find a blue that was close to Air Force blue.” Chris laughed at the mutual confusion on Leon’s and Luis’ faces. Who did you think made it? Jill?”
“Maybe?” Luis confessed.
Chris laughed harder, like that was funnier than the idea of Chris hunched over a pair knitting needles making all those cozies. Probably with a cup of tea next to him and Good Boy snoozing at his feet. Maybe even with a quilt to keep the cold out.
As if summoned, Good Boy finished up with his food and started sniffing around the table.
“Nah, unlike me she can relax without having to keep her hands busy. I’m glad I got a chance to unpack them - helps make this place seem a bit more…what’s the word?”
“Homely?” Luis offered.
“Homey,” Leon corrected.
“Ah, close enough.”
“Luis, those are two very different words.” Good Boy started his investigation of Leon, sniffing around his pants and shoes with all the seriousness of a security officer giving a pat down.
“Anyway, homey was the word I was looking for - something to counter “government facility quickly retooled with Ikea furniture” going on here - just you know. . .” Chris dropped his open hand in frustration as words failed, the other viciously stabbing a stray tomato.
“Comfortable and safe? I understand - it’s been the same after Racoon City for me too,” Leon’s tone softened as his gaze shifted back to staring at the bowl.
“Were you both involved?” Luis asked, even though he should know better. But he always had to make things worse for himself.
“It was my home.”
“It was my first and last day as a Racoon city police officer.”
Why were any of them letting Luis live, let alone eat at their table? ‘Hey you destroyed our lives, let me cook dinner.’ Jill must be the only sane one here.
“That was rough,” Chris flatly said as Good Boy finished his inspection of Leon. Apparently Leon passed with flying colors, as he eagerly rubbed his face against Leon’s legs. From this angle, someone could almost mistake Good Boy for a normal dog. Almost.
“Yeah, it was. Though I'm glad I didn't end up working for a serial killer.”
“I heard Chief Irons lost it after the outbreak. . .”
“I meant before - I found a room full of crazy. He stuffed his victims right next to his animal trophies.” Leon’s hand was over Luis’ again, the squeeze almost painful. Luis squeezed back, as Leon drily recalled horrifying memories. It was the least he could do right now.
“No shit. Didn't think he could do something to beat Umbrella puppet, but he somehow did. Never realized how lucky I was for never accepting his invites to hunting trips.”
“I've been thinking: why did Umbrella do all of this bullshit with zombies and viruses? Make Raccoon City their testing ground.” Leon leaned away, just a little as Good Boy peeked out from under the table. Leon managed to get a few pats on the head in before Good Boy ducked underneath the table.
“Same here.” Chris looked over at the pots of green plants. “Like their green herbs and other species. I didn't really think about it until I was hiking in the Arkady mountains and Jill pointed them out to me, growing by the side of the trail. They used to only grow in the Arkady mountains but their scientists got at it, and now we have them everywhere. Made them a household name.”
Luis remembered his amazement when he first saw the then new first aid spray in action: Aleix sighing as he applied the spray after an embarrassing tumble down the stairs. His cuts and bruises disappear in minutes. Like fairytale magic.
Meanwhile, Good Boy was sniffing around his legs and Luis froze, expecting a sharp bite any moment.
“The few million from weapons development would have been a drop in the bucket compared to that. So why did they risk it all B.O.W.s?” Luis felt them looking at him, including Good Boy. While he had thoughts, they amounted to a good reason the same way that a pile of wood amounted to a house. So he just shrugged as Good Boy also rubbed against his legs, deeming him not a threat.
“Looks like we are all clueless here and it doesn't really change anything. All we can do is keep mopping up their mess and take home anything that makes puppy dog eyes at us.” Good Boy had finished up his investigation, and rested his head on Chris’ lap. Chris absent-mindedly petted him, avoiding the holes by a well- practiced routine.
“At least yours eats less," Leon said.
“Oye, I don't have puppy dog eyes.” Luis would have protested more if it wasn't for his fork hitting the empty bottom of the bowl.
“At least yours doesn't steal your cherry nicorette gum.”
“I thought you said Good Boy only eats raw food.”
“No, this is Carlos. He's Jill's stray, she picked up during the Raccoon City outbreak. Apparently since I inspired him to give up smoking that means he gets to steal my gum.”
The one person Jill broke her stare for, a man who stood out from the rest of Chris’ musclebound pack with his unruly fluffy hair and equally unruly mischievous smile. “Great, we now have a breeding pair of nerds,” he joked, as he swung an arm around Jill's shoulders. “Before you know it, there will be baby nerds underfoot everywhere.” Jill smothered a giggle and air returned to the room.
“Ah, Jill's boyfriend?” Another sign she had good taste.
Leon looked at both of them in abject confusion. “I thought you were dating Jill.”
‘Both Carlos and I are Jill's boyfriends and I guess he might be mine, but we aren't that serious.”
“When were you going to mention this? Leon snapped.”
“I don't remember my romantic life being part of orientation!”
“Maybe it should be when your romantic life is that weird!”
“Leon, have you met Carlos? It makes perfect sense if you have.”
“Not helping Luis!” Leon finally took a breath. “Okay, what led to all of this?”
“Life after Raccoon City, we didn’t know who to trust outside of us-”
“Us?" Leon asked.
“The S.T.A.R. members who survived. The few strays we managed to rescue. We didn’t know who we could trust so we didn’t trust anyone else. Days spent arguing so people would believe us, nights spent dodging agents. I don’t think half of them were even Umbrella’s.It made the world so much smaller. . . things get tangled up including feelings and before you know it, you are first cousin to a clusterfuck. The sort of clusterfuck that involves trying to make margaritas with a mix that tastes like lime scented pine sol just to try to relax and not argue with each other after a bad day after a bad week after a bad month. . ..you both end up blurting at the same time you have a crush on the same person and before either of you get your thoughts to together after that, Rebecca basically breaks down your door because we might be half way across the globe, and on our third set of burner phones that week, but somehow her parents got her number, and she is feeling guilty for daring to not want to die before even getting a chance to date. . . .it was really the best solution. ”
“So everyone in the BSAA is sleeping with each other?” Leon asked.
“Well, mostly just those involved in the early days. I mean the others could but it’s too large for me to keep track of all that, even if I really wanted to. Which I don’t. Oh and Barry - his response was that he and his wife were simple people who liked their simple monogamy. Then he offered me a sandwich.”
“I have a question-” Leon began.
“Does that man always have sandwiches on him or something?” Luis cut in “I’ve only met him a few times, but everytime he insists on giving me a sandwich.”
“Luis, I was going to ask how you manage to keep all of this from becoming as you said first cousin to a clusterfuck? Sex always seems to make things more complicated.”
“First Luis, you own a mirror. Take a good look and I’m sure you can figure out why Barry keeps giving you sandwiches. Second, it takes a fuckton of text messages, and somebody sharing a skit about consent that involves tea, along with practically a novel on the concept of boundaries but you know - at least it was something else to talk about beside bioweapons even if it’s Carlos deciding his insomnia is everyone else’s problem with a constant string of poly memes.”
“Chris, you somehow make dating multiple people boring and wholesome.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment Luis.”
“I still don’t get how you handle dating most of your coworkers.” Leon broke in.
“I thought the DSO kept you as married to work as the BSAA does?”
“In my experience, it makes it worse. You can’t escape the awkwardness when somebody is well interested and you're not, but he’s not being upfront about it and you aren’t saying anything so you don’t die. Not directly because they hate you, but because the person who's supposed to be teaching you and watching your back wasn’t paying attention because he’s angry at you.”
Luis remembered Leon’s knowing eyes as he cut away the ropes in Saddler’s cell, too lost in his own misery to even ask himself how Leon knew. This time, he was the first one to squeeze Loen’s hand, not sure if the slight tremor was from him or Leon.
“Nothing like that happened,” Leon responded to Luis’ thoughts. “The worst was finding his collection of pictures after he died - I don’t even know how he got some of those.”
“Wait, are you talking about Krasuer?” Chris raised his eyebrows. “Can’t say I knew him well, but I’m still disappointed in him.”
“Wait, you worked with Krasuer?” Luis dimly remembered the man rippling with both muscles and Las Plagas mutations before a hard blow sent everything to black. Luis tried to remember more of the man, but all he got was the memory of a near blinding headache he woke up to, and the ache in the back of his head that took weeks to fade.
“Yes, he used to be part of DSO after serving in the military. He was the one that helped kidnap Ashley-”
“So capullo mucho.”
“Luis, you knew that when he kidnapped you.”
‘
“That was just capullo not capullo mucho.”
“He gave you back to _Saddler_”
“I probably deserved that-”
“No.” Leon pronounced each word with unshakable certainty that surprised Luis.. “You didn’t.” Luis knew he should push back, demand an explanation because Leon knew how shitty he was,but the other half of him wanted to believe in Leon’s certainty, even if it was the stupid idealistic part. Especially with Leon turning to look at him, with that strange stubborn kindness that pierced him to the soul and Luis always having to look away before he gave in to the really stupid part of him who just wanted to fall into Leon’s arms and wrap himself up in his warmth.
“I’m not going to ask what all that is about.” Chris thankfully rescued Leon and Luis from the awkwardness. “But I think we can probably agree that Krauser deserved all the pain and annoyance from dragging Luis around.”
“Actually, I barely got a good string of insults out before he hit me in the back of the head and I was out after that.”
Chris’ eyebrows went up even higher. “Wait, he hit the back of your head and you passed out? How long were you out?”
“Let’s see. It was in the mines and then woke up one of Saddler’s cells on the island. I guess at least fifteen minutes but probably more like thirty.”
Chris' eyebrows somehow got even higher. “That sounds less like a kidnapping and more of of an attempted murder with plausible deniability “
“Pretty much,” Leon agreed.
“Why would he do that? He knew Saddler wanted me alive.”
“To be a jealous bitch,” Chris said as Leon nodded. Luis gave Leon’s hand another squeeze. “What a nightmare. At least you don’t have to worry about that with Claire. She might think that flashbang grenades are perfect for pranks, but she’s the opposite of jealous.”
“She made that very clear with her words. And actions, like with-”
“I’m going to stop you there. I’m fine right now, and I won’t be fine if I have to hear details about her escapades.”
“Oh, it was nothing like that! Though she did lose her pants-.”
“Ok I’m stomping the brakes, putting that idea right through the fucking windshield” With that, Chris stood up to collect the empty bowls. Good Boy gave a whine at his cushion deciding to get up. Luis and Leon barely had a chance to move out of their seats before Chris waved them down. “Save if for when you invite me over to dinner. Hopefully one of you knows how to cook.”
Chris had barely turned his back when Leon leaned over. “What do you think?”
“That I really hope Chris likes paella.”
“I meant about being with several people at once. Not just dating but seriously.”
“I think if I were to find two people who loved me, let alone who didn’t mind sharing, I should go and play the lotto. Even if I don’t win anything, I still would be a happy man.”
“I guess when you said you were a ladies man, you didn’t mean a successful ladies man.”
“Gallipolis.”
“Hey, do you two want dessert? I have some chocolate chickpea cookies if you want.”
“No gracias,” Luis said a bit too quickly. “Dinner was very filling.” He added hoping that it covered up the fact that he wasn’t sure what chocolate chickpea cookies tasted like, but good wasn’t the first thing that came to his mind.
“Same here. We probably should get out of your hair before one of us falls asleep on your couch.” Leon stood up, Luis followed, surprised by warm drowsiness that had nested in his body, a forgotten gentle relative to bone tired exhaustion with jangled nerves.
“Yeah you should because that couch sucks.See you both around.”
Despite that, Luis’ bed wasn’t appealing. Mostly the idea of staring into the darkness by himself. “Sancho, I have a quest in mind,” he whispered as the door closed behind them.
Leon was already rolling his eyes. “What is it?”
“Ice cream?”
“Finally a quest I can agree with,” Leon's sarcasm faded away with a smile.
“It can’t be fighting giants all the time.”
Leon’s smile stayed even as his face grew thoughtful.
“Something on your mind?”
“What is a paella anyway?”