Work Text:
Leon shifted uneasily in the uncomfortable hospital armchair. To his left, Luis' hair pooled around the pillow his head was resting on. It was cleaner than it had been in Spain— on Leon's request, a nurse had bathed him after they stabilized him and treated his wound. Truth be told, they would have anyway, but Leon was impatient, and couldn't bear to see the man who saved his life so sallow and filthy.
Over the past few days, Luis' skin had began to slightly plump up as he was rehydrated, and his skin tone gradually returned to the healthy, sun-kissed bronze that it had been before his injury. He had been losing a lot of blood in Spain, and honestly, Leon was a little surprised at his recovery. The doctor, however, would come talk to him daily about what was coming. The first day, the conversation had been monumentally awkward and confusing; Leon was a federal agent, after all, not a medical professional. The doctor seemed sympathetic as she explained the situation, but obviously noted Leon's confusion. Although she was considerate, Leon had to pause to ask her to 'translate' several times. Eventually, though, he understood the gist of it all. Luis' body hadn't handled the ride back to the states very well, and Leon's shoddy attempt at bandaging his stab wound was largely ineffective. The herbs he applied to the wound, as well as the tight bandaging, did prevent an infection though. Luis was almost immediately taken back upon arrival, and though Leon was unable to accompany him due to the president requesting his presence, he ensured that he was just a call away from his injured friend.
Coagulants were an interesting thing, Leon thought. Maybe Luis would be able to explain them when he woke.
Of course, Luis had been awake in the past few days, but he wasn't entirely conscious of his surroundings. The few times that Leon caught him stirring, he had pushed the call button— however, the only activity that would be noted was the flicker of an eyelid, a lopsided smile, or a groan. Maybe it was better this way, though. Leon had been injured enough times to know that packing a wound fucking hurt, and seeing Luis in even more pain would be enough to make him teeter off of the precipice of evaluating his own mortality entirely too hard.
He hurt for Luis; not just because of the ragged mark Krauser left on his back, but also because he had lost everything. His only family was dead, his research was gone— hell, even Valdelobos as he knew it was no longer intact. Leon could relate to many of those things, but the biggest difference was that for him, the Raccoon City incident had been the start of most of his troubles, and he always had a friend to talk through his issues with in Claire. For Luis, though, things just kept coming, and Leon wasn't sure how many more times he could bounce back. Maybe he shouldn't doubt Luis, but Leon was uneasy about the situation, no matter what he told himself in an effort to feel better. His heart weighed heavy in his chest as he imagined all of the ways in which he could lose Luis, just as he feared he had only a few days prior.
Leon uncrossed his legs and tried to stamp down the pins and needles in his thighs. Ashley had finally succeeded in paying a visit to Luis this morning after her father had finally given her explicit permission to leave his sight. She had curled up in the same uncomfortable chair with her iPod mini clutched in her hands. Leon leaned against the wall and watched as she fiddled with the stickers on the back of the sleek pink backing. Occasionally, she would mumble to herself, or maybe to Luis— in an effort to give her some space, Leon was too far away to be able to tell. Before she left, she pressed a Pompompurin sticker to his forehead. The yellow dog was bent over, looking between his legs at the beret that had tumbled off of his head.
Leon chuckled. "Pompompurin?"
"Yeah." Ashley smiled. "How'd you know?"
"Sherry's super into that stuff."
"She's got a good eye for cute things, then."
Leon was silent for a moment. "They'll take that off, you know."
Ashley stilled, and her brows furrowed. "I know."
"I'll save it for him. Tell him his favorite princesa left him a gift."
"I'll tell him myself. Can't have you getting all of the credit." She carefully peeled the sticker off of Luis, who stirred slightly but ultimately didn't wake up. The agents at the door gathered around her as she exited the room, and one of them gave Leon a perfunctory nod.
He smiled at the memory of Ashley's visit. Despite the fact that the visit had only occurred hours ago, it felt so far away. The tingling in his legs subsided and he began tapping his foot. The TV in the room had gone unused for the day, but the silence was starting to suffocate Leon, so he turned it on. Thankfully, his standards were extremely low, so the mediocre police procedural that flickered to life on the bulky monitor didn't grate on him too badly.
Leon allowed his gaze to wander to Luis' forehead. He wondered if it was sticky from the adhesive on Ashley's gift of sorts. Against his better judgement, he stood, reached out, and felt nothing but soft skin. Luis' forehead was cool from the thin sheen of sweat coating it, but Leon didn't stop his movements there. It was different to touch him now, so far from Valdelobos and the clutches of Los Iluminados. Without his gloves, he could feel soft textures as his palm smoothed over Luis' clean scalp and his fingers tangled in the hair cascading from it. Leon held his breath as he ran his fingers through thick, dark hair.
Luis, as real and sturdy and capable as Leon knew him to be, made Leon feel like he could crumble under a single rough touch. He was careful as he swept Luis' bangs away from his eyes and watched for any movement, then took his hand. Calloused fingers met calloused fingers, and Leon shuddered at the touch. Their callouses, however, were different— Leon's formed as a result of the combat he had endured during his training with Krauser and the practiced grip on his pistol, while Luis' presumably formed as a result of excessive writing, fussing with the knobs on scientific instruments, and playing the guitar. It was a testament to personality that Leon hadn't previously noticed. He imagined, not for the first time, how Luis looked when he was calm and in his element. When he was working in Umbrella's laboratory, would his hair be messily tied back? Would Luis stick his tongue out while concentrating? Would he hum with excitement when things went well? Leon could only hope that one day, he would be able to see more of his passions.
Leon experimentally squeezed Luis' hand. Nothing. He wasn't sure what he had been expecting.
When Luis' eyes fluttered, Leon missed it; he was too busy rubbing his thumb over Luis' knuckles and mumbling to himself. Luis instinctively raised his other arm to shield himself from the bright fluorescent lights invading his eyes, and this time, Leon noticed. He stood still as Luis groaned and muttered some Spanish curses, and never let go of his other hand. Selfishly, he abstained from pressing the call button. He didn't want to share this moment with anyone. It had been around a week since the two of them had been alone, and Leon's heart ached at the loss of wry jokes and sarcastic comments.
Luis turned his head to look at Leon, and he his chest grew tight. Finally, Luis was taking him in. Luis pursed his dry lips, but didn't speak. Leon, thoroughly panicked and flushed because he was still holding hands with the man that he'd just met, said the only thing that came to mind. "Hola."
"Aye, Sancho, your Spanish needs some work."
"Give me a break, okay? I haven't studied up since high school."
"Better bust out the flash cards, vaquero."
Leon scoffed. "Anyone ever tell you that you have a way with words?"
"Just you." Luis' smile was warm, as were his hands. Leon pushed through the desire to spill his guts and finally pressed the call button. In a moment, the two of them would be swarmed by doctors and nurses, but for now, it was just the two of them.
"Yeah, well, heads up. This place is about to get crowded. I'm afraid you've become the quite the celebrity around here."
"Oh? Do tell me more."
"Every two hours women come to dote on you. They have to check your vitals, after all." Luis rolled his eyes. Leon bit back assurances of 'I've never left your side,' and 'I've been here the entire time.' Instead, he decided to wait; after all, Luis had his whole life ahead of him, and Leon intended to come along for the ride.