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"He's in room B4 West. That's just down the hallway and to the left. There's two other people seeing him already."
Leo nodded, thanking the nurse at the desk before following her instructions. He tuned out the pained groans of patients, the syllabic beeping of machines, the subtle hum of the heating system.
They had all received the message in the night. A simple three words that prompted him to book a flight to Italy first thing in the morning.
They found him.
Leo rounded the corner, ears perking up as he heard a familiar voice. He squinted, looking at door numbers before finding B4. He walked up to the door, stopping to straighten out his clothes, before taking a deep breath and twisting open the door knob.
He bit back the urge to vomit as he looked at the sight inside the room, fighting back the tears that quickly formed in his eyes.
Lautaro, sitting on the tacky hospital chair, gave him a weak smile, eyes puffy from lack of sleep. Leo smiled back at him, before turning to the bed.
In the middle of a tangle of tubes and wires, lay Paulo, pale and thin, his bones showing through the gaps made by the flimsy hospital gown. He was curled into Leandro's side, the fellow Roma player gently carding his fingers through his hair.
Leandro turned to Leo as he heard the door open, eyes widening.
"You came?" he asked, shock overtaking his face. Leo nodded.
"I had to, I had to see that he was..."
He couldn't finish the sentence, although they all knew what he was going to say.
Alive. They didn't know that he was alive.
Two months prior, he hadn't shown up to a date, and Leo had been eavesdropping on Antonella's conversation with Oriana. As it turned out, Paulo also hadn't shown up to training the following afternoon, or the game the next day.
The Scaloneta group chat was full of concern, and as the club released the statement proclaiming that Paulo had been kidnapped and was being held for ransom, it was like their world imploded.
Scaloni had ordered them not to comment on the situation under any circumstances, no matter how much reporters asked. Once the news reached international level, most of the national team withdrew from media duties completely, unable to avoid the inevitable questions.
And then, one day, Paulo was given back to them.
Nicola, a young Roma player, had found him at the back entrance of the training center in Trigoria, bloody, bruised, and unconscious, but undoubtedly alive.
Looking at Paulo now, Leo couldn't be totally sure of the last one.
"How is he?" Leo whispered softly, moving to stand next to Lautaro.
"He's in a lot of pain," Leandro responded sadly, pulling Paulo closer to his body. "They wanted to sedate him, but those bastards messed with him so much that he literally refused the painkillers."
Leo blanched. "He refused painkillers?"
Leandro nodded.
"The police report said that the kidnappers would keep him in a dark room for days, and whenever they attacked him, they would blindfold him and block his ears."
Leo gasped, and Lautaro softly grabbed his hand in reassurance.
"That has to be some kind of torture method," Leo muttered, and Leandro hummed in agreement.
"This is the longest he's been asleep since I came, he cried until he passed out."
"Poor thing," Lautaro breathed, and Leo squeezed his hand.
"Is Oriana coming?" Leo asked.
"She was here before," Leandro answered, "The police wanted to talk to her privately about what happened, so she's at the station right now."
Leo stared down Paulo's sleeping form, internally wincing at the sharp junctions of his collarbones, the way his skin seemed like it was thinly stretched over his bones, the thinness of his hair.
He was shaken out of his thoughts by a nurse walking in with a container full of three syringes.
She walked over to Leandro, sadly looking down at Paulo, before looking at the younger Roma player.
"We need to wake him up for these," she said regretfully, and Leandro nodded. Leo sat in the chair next to Lautaro, the Inter player looking completely drained.
Leandro softly pulled away from Paulo, shaking his shoulder gently, careful not to brush against any of his bruises.
"Paulo," he whispered, "You need to wake up, the nurse has some things to help you."
Paulo stirred, eyes blinking open, confused and disoriented. He whined softly, gripping Leandro like a lifeline, tears forming in his eyes.
"Don't let him touch me," Paulo croaked, and Leandro was quick to reassure him.
"He isn't here anymore, it's just me, Lauti, Leo, and the nurse."
Paulo swallowed thickly, before unclenching his grip in acceptance, refusing to make eye contact with the nurse.
"It'll just be a slight pinch, sweetheart," the nurse said sweetly. Paulo squeezed his eyes shut, shaking slightly as the nurse wiped his arm with alcohol, before letting out a pained groan as the needle went in.
"Just two more," she said, quickly putting in the next one. Paulo shook, and Leandro shushed him, pressing a kiss into his thin hair to distract him as the nurse administered the third needle.
"There we go, all done!" The nurse said cheerily, pulling all three out and dropping them back into the container. Paulo didn't respond, his eyes distant and glassy.
"I'll be back in a few hours for his next dose," she said to Leandro, who nodded solemnly.
She excited the room, and Leandro gently kissed Paulo's forehead.
"You're okay," he cooed softly, "You did so well."
Paulo looked at him, blinking wetly before nodding weakly.
"We need to get you changed into your pyjamas," Leandro continued, and Paulo inhaled sharply, shaking his head earnestly.
"No, no, please, 'andro, no," he repeated over and over, visibly tremoring.
"Don't worry," Leandro comforted him, "It's just us, nobody else, just us. We won't let anything happen to you."
As Leandro began to slowly help Paulo to sit up, Lautaro closed the blinds of the room, gesturing to Leo to do the same. When Leo finished, he turned to see Lautaro grabbing a pair of thick, woolen pyjamas from the cupboard, bringing them over to the bed.
Leandro has gotten Paulo to stand up by now, and Leo could finally see the full extent of the damage. Thin and frail, the hospital gown hung limply off the bones of Paulo's shoulder, his arms thin and bruised, his legs weak and shaking.
Leandro silently thanked Lautaro for the pyjamas, and slowly began to untie the gown. Paulo trembled, refusing to look any of them in the eyes, staring at the floor as Leandro whispered sweet nothings into his ears.
It took the three of them to help Paulo pull on the long sleeved shirt and thick pants, navigating around wires and cables, but eventually they succeeded, and Leo gently guided the younger man back to the bed.
Lautaro pulled the blanket back, and with Leandro and Leo's help, Paulo settled onto the mattress, sighing softly as Lautaro tucked him in, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead.
"C-can," Paulo began, his voice a whisper, "Can you guys keep talking? I need to hear something. Please."
Leandro nodded, "Of course," and began to talk to Leo and Lautaro about a recent tennis match he had watched. The three of them talked for hours, until Paulo had fallen into a deep sleep, gently drooling into his pillow.
"Oriana is coming with Scaloni in a few hours," Leandro whispered to the two of them, seeing that Paulo was knocked out. "I need to go home for a bit, is it okay if one of you stay in case he wakes up before they get here?"
Leo nodded, smiling as he saw Lautaro nod as well.
Paulo lay in the middle of his bed, his thin figure almost drowning in the thick clothes and heavy sheets, and if Leo could ignore the bruises, bones, and beeping of medical machinery, he could still see the young talent that he had met years ago.
He would never let anyone touch Paulo again.