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Normally at this point in the “banging your head against the wall,” process Luis would be staring at the wall, giving his eyes break after words started blurring together. Which would be then followed by him thinking up all the swear words he knew, regardless of language. Then it would be followed by burying his head in his hands, wishing for either/all: sleep, food, answers and death. Eventually he would pull himself together (though the last few years there had been more tears than he would care to admit.) Count his cigarettes, to see if he had enough for a break now. Take a gulp of cold coffee. Then restart the process with going over any current experiments.
Instead he was adding the whipped cream on top of a cinnamon caramel mocha frappe (with turmeric and beet powder added to make it “healthy” so Chris couldn't complain too much. The fact that the compound turned the drink alarmingly pink was just a benefit in Rebecca's eyes.)
Rebecca was busy carefully positioning stickers on the UV laser machine. (She had quickly figured out what he had forgotten and with four hands what had taken months was done in two. It also didn't overheat as easily as the first model - who knew that using parts that weren't cobbled from broken tools and leftovers would make such a difference?) Rebecca's philosophy was that when you hit a wall, you took a break. A proper break. A stop thinking break. A do anything else break.
Sometimes it was Rebecca turning on an episode of a weird show with bad movies, a guy, and two robots, (Leon was already making grumblings about showing Luis some actually good movies before Rebecca ruined his taste forever.) Or a game of basketball when one of Rebecca's beloved teams were playing. Luis wasn't sure what the rules were exactly (like traveling sounded like you took the ball on a surprise weekend to the beach, not just failing to bounce it.) But the important thing was that he cheered when she did and patted her shoulder when her team lost.
Sometimes it was her springing out of her chair announcing it was a dance break, followed by a quick game of rock paper scissors on whose playlist would be pumped through the tinny phone speakers. Not that Luis minded either way. Trying to perform a zapateado that matched the hyper beats of Rebecca's endless K-Pop collection was a fun challenge. Even if his right leg gave a dull ache every time he pushed himself. The first few times when the ache hit, he found himself freezing in place, feeling Saddler’s heavy hand on his shoulder, with a harsh whisper “Don’t be so vulgar. I thought Mendez taught you better.” But when Luis looked back there was just Rebecca with an encouraging smile and thumbs up. Having an appreciative and more importantly alive audience was enough to shake off that part of Saddler’s ghost. Even more an audience that could keep up with her own dance moves even when Luis had to stop for a breath.
(Though the last time, he caught her watching him breathlessly after trying some of the complicated hand motions from her favorite band with the braceo and floreo. Rebecca got more flustered when he asked if she was feeling okay.)
However when things got really tough, then Rebecca would resort to her most powerful diversions: crafting.
Ever since the newest report from the field. Ashley had emphasized the positives - the UV machines made with the improved blueprint had been able to remove the plagas from an outbreak in Morocco. Granted that was those with whom the serum was able to effectively halt the plagas development. Which worked in 85 percent of the cases (which was lower than it was against Saddler's strains, and meant that fifteen percent of people were taken by the parasite). And they were able to obtain samples of these new plagas. Well pieces of them anyway. You know what Chris and his men were like. Trying to reverse engineer what Wesker had created let alone figuring out its weaknesses . . .well not much positive progress was made.
But Rebecca had painted a set of ashtrays that were too pretty to actually be used, chimes made from flasks hurled at the wall and just finished turning a child's wading pool into a whole play park for the musketeers: complete with a little tropical island for them to lounge on when they got tired of wrestling plastic balls and snapping at dangling cherry tomatoes. If they didn't have a breakthrough, she might join Chris in a knitting frenzy.
Talking about arts and crafts, Luis looked down at the drink as he pulled out the bowl of cherries from the lunch shelf. It needed something more than just a cherry on top. Luis plucked the long stems of two of the cherries before placing them carefully on the mountain of whip cream. The cherries looked like eyes and on an impulse knotted one stem and placed it below like a nobbily nose. The other stem was twisted upward into a small smile.
Luis carried off the concoction carefully in both hands before it toppled from its mug. (Which was less a conventional mug and more a child of a mug and milkshake glass. Was the gene for height dominant or recessive…Maybe he really should stop for the evening and sleep. But then who would keep Rebecca company?)
Rebecca gave an excited squeal when she turned around at the smell of sugar and coffee. “Thank you! I was about to go make some myself.” She stopped before she plucked out one of the cherries. “Ah, you made a smiley face. How did you get the nose? My stems always snap when I try.”
“I actually learned how to do it with my tongue in college. Turns out the parties that serve cherries and the parties where it’s acceptable to do that trick overlap a lot less than I thought.” Luis gave space for Rebecca to laugh at him. Which she weirdly did not take, her attention still on the nose. “After that, using your fingers is easy. The stickers look nice.” Luis hoped that compliment would cover that failed joke.
“Thank you!:” She said, beaming with the deepest blush Luis had ever seen. Maybe it was just stress getting to her. “ It took forever to find the right ones that said cute and incredibly powerful medical equipment." Well that explained all the elaborate suns and cutsy doctors. She patted her empty chair next to her. "Sit and talk to me.”
This must be a weird Amercanism Luis had decided. Both Leon and Rebecca had actually asked for Luis to just talk to them. The topic didn’t seem to matter: news, work, hell at one point he just talked about cellular division because Sherry asked for a study buddy for her online college biology class and Luis just couldn't help repeating it again with Leon. Maybe they just liked his accent.
Luis sat down as Rebecca took a long sip and stretched. “Any preferred topic?”
“Any parasite but Plagas. Trying to think out of the box.”
“Rebecca I don’t think we have the years for that.”
That did get a laugh out of her. “Fine, weird facts about tapeworms. I had always been too grossed out to learn about them properly.”
“... are you sure you want to be drinking then?”
“It’s fine if it’s you. Unless you have a powerpoint with pictures.”
“Okay, so the least digusting discussion on tapeworms I can manage so I don’t cause a fair lady distress.Tapeworm size can be determined by intestines of the creature they lnhabit - which means that those species who specialize in whales can grow up to hundred feet or more. “
“I thought I told you not to make it too disgusting.” Not enough to turn her off her drink, judging from the long sip.
“Eh, I figured the fact it couldn't live in you would remove the most disgusting feature”
“First of all, let's imagine you are just walking down the beach and suddenly a tapeworm the size of a sea serpent just erupts out a beached whale carcass.”
“Okay, that is disgusting, though why would you be casually walking next to a whale carcass? The smell would be enough to make you welcome death by giant tapeworm.”
“Well, maybe I was craving up the whale carcass to help my family get through the winter before supermarkets, and this is a huge source of food and . . .Oh God.”
“It can’t be worse than a tapeworm eating you whole.”
“Imagine just pulling one of those out and deciding to cook because you know, it’s technically food. Tapeworms are bad enough to eat by accident but on purpose. . .” Rebecca gave an exaggerated shudder.
“Well, at least it won’t be living in you.”
“That’s the only good thing - tell me something else to make me forget giant tapeworms.”
“Tapeworms as a genus are older than dinosaurs - we have the fossil record to prove it, and were successful enough to have spread through mammal populations before the continental drift - which is why marsupial populations in both Bolivia and Australia have the same species of tapeworm.”
“So they’re an ancient monster just waiting for the right whale to beech and then invade our world?”
“First of all Rebecca, that sounds like one of those movies you put on, and second it might help to imagine them well, not like that. And instead look at them as those old folk who need a cane to get around and fall asleep at the dinner table.” That did seem to make Rebecca stop turning so green.
“They say that they need to leave and then just don’t.”
“That’s because you left a dominos too close to them.”
“Dominoes would be an improvement - my grandparents just played 24 hour news Has anyone tried the ‘new-fangled’ music that they always hate?”
“Tell them a kid is making fun of them on the other end of the street. Or somebody is being loud in the church”
“Or somebody drank their last beer” Rebecca took an audible breath trying to get her laughter under control.”Okay, I think I’m ready for another. I’ll just try to imagine the tapeworm as a grouchy old man.”
“Oye! I just remembered a case I read about - unusual host/parasite interaction. A patient with a severely compromised immune system presented with tumors growing in his lungs and lymph nodes. However while the tissue contained the mutations one would expect for cancer, none of the tumors had his proteins. When they did more extensive gene testing, they discovered the tumors’ tissue matched the dwarf tapeworms that infected him. Since dwarf tapeworms can develop entirely in the same host compared to other species that need multiple hosts, and the researcher saw this only in immunocompromised patients: he put forth the theory that the tumors were from lost larva that developed into tumors rather then proper worms due to the wrong environmental conditions but I'm curious if the tumors might be developed due to a type of transmissible cancer-”
“That's it! That's the mutation agent - no wonder why we didn't see something similar - Saddler probably would have thought it heretical - that's what Dr. Niedermayer has in his lab - it’s been forever I bet - to be sure I would have to compare the samples to be sure - if only he would share without me flying halfway around the world - but if so the next question would be which type of cancer - Wesker's probably using the commercially available lines of cells - at least as a base - no sense in reinventing the wheel-”
“Mi reina de laboratorio take a breath. You're starting to turn blue.” To Luis’ relief Rebecca did actually take a deep breath and a long gulp of her coffee-like drink.
This was the reason Luis had chosen to embrace the Rebecca method (and not just because she looked up at him with a small smile if he ever thought about saying no). More often then not, Rebecca had an epiphany that helped them get over the next hurdle.
“If I understand you correctly,” which Luis said with more confidence then he felt (he was pretty sure she was talking about deliberately infecting the Plagas with cancer to achieve some of the mutations, but he couldn't be sure. Not when his thoughts were as tangled as uncarded wool full of burrs.) “I will start testing the tissue from the samples that we thought were just from the host, caught up in the Plaga-”
“Of course you understand, you practically told me just a minute ago. You beautiful genius!” Rebecca's arms were around him as she bent down and-
The world stopped.
Those were the same words Saddler said to Luis during one of the latter's many surprise visits to the lab.
Saddler had been standing over Luis as he explained his latest experiment, too exhausted to bother with the approved protocal of getting out of his chair and greeting Saddler properly. With that comment, Luis had jerked up from the tubes he had been gesturing at and right into Saddler's lips.
And he did nothing.
Shock met disbelief as Saddler took Luis’ lack of response as an invitation to push further, his tongue leaving an overwhelming sour taste. A sour taste that sent Luis’ stomach rolling and his body shaking.
And he still did nothing.
It wasn't until Saddler pulled away to breathe that Luis finally admitted what happened with a “What the fuck,” that squeaked rather the growled. Despite the fact that he should be yelling and fighting, anything besides just pathetically sitting there as Saddler's expression went from content to livid, his eyes hardening.
But Luis still did nothing.
Saddler stalked out without another word, the only sounds were the slam of a door and the click of a lock. Then Luis’ body finally sprang to action; releasing the breath he was holding as he ran across the lab to claw at the door.
Of course it didn't open. Not with that heavy lock on the outside.
A kiss and a locked door. That was all that was needed to destroy the illusions Luis had clung to.
Thirty six hours was plenty of time to think about what Saddler really meant with every touch, every word, every action that had brought Luis to this island. An island far enough that he couldn't swim back to shore before drowning from exhaustion. About how long it had been since he had seen the other researchers. He couldn't tell if it had been a few weeks or months.
Would they notice him not coming out for weeks? He had water in his lab, so he wouldn't die right away. But with his diet lately, it wouldn't take too long for him to waste away without anyone noticing.
He thought about dying with his work unfinished, joining everyone he failed when he was so close. About how long it had been since he saw the sky and stars, of dying unable to see them. About how the burning of the cigarette as he hugged himself was cold compared to a wanted embrace.
All of that weighed against the price of what Saddler wanted from him.
When Saddler returned, Luis offered no more resistance.
“Luis can you tell me five things you can see?”
No thought, only obedience. “Flow hood, fluorometer, electron microscope. Forced convection oven, freezer.” Luis made sure not to look directly at the speaker, not sure who he would see. But these look so new compared to what he was expecting.
“What are four things you can feel?”
“My chair,” that's when Luis noticed he was in fact clutching the armrest in a death grip. He forced his hands to relax. “Um,” his thoughts were no longer racing and punchdrunk from exhaustion instead now slogging as panic threatened to rise again.
“There are no wrong answers.”
“Breathing” Luis said after he took a shaky breath. How long had he been holding his breath?
“Good, good.”
“Cold air, and my heart beat.”
“You are doing great. Three things you can hear.”
Luis took a few more breaths before responding. “I hear a whine from some of the instruments, um” Luis tried to listen beyond his own body. There was a soft electronic chime. “My cellphone and you of course.” Focusing on the voice - soft and quiet - but not hiding any frigid anger or sickly sweet fake concern.
“Okay, nearly finished. Two things you can smell.”
“That cleaning spray.” The strong artificial citrus smell covered up nearly everything. But the coffee, sugar, and hint of spice was only one person. “And your drink.” His brain was finally starting to accept that here was not Saddler's fortress after all, but the La Mancha lab. He was safe.
“Okay, here's the last step: one thing you can taste.”
There was salt water on his lips he realized. Luis raised a hand to his face to check. He had been crying.
“I-” Luis wasn't sure what he was going to say to salvage the pieces of his shattered pride. But any words stopped when he looked at Rebecca.
It wasn't just the concern all over her face. It was the fact that she was standing several meters away, her hands balled into fists at her side. “Joder! I’m sorry!”
“I’m the one who should be apologizing.” Her voice trembled with anger, as she looked away from Luis. “I got carried away and didn’t stop to think let alone ask.”
Luis pushed himself up- much less steady then he would’ve liked-and tried to smile. “It’s not your fault.”
“I’m the one who kissed you-”
“Dios mio, I think that most men and quite a few women would consider that quite a gift.”
“I should’ve asked rather than just jumping in like that. Just because whatever you and Leon have going on seems open and you say things like that!”
“I’m a flirt, I’m sure everybody knows that. It’s not like you were wrong--”
“Just because you are a flirt - doesn’t mean you can’t be upset by unwanted kisses. God who told you couldn’t?”
“It’s not anything you did at all! It’s just. . .because. . somebody who. . .” Luis’ tongue just refused to form any coherent sentences. Come on, he scolded himself. He just broke down crying over a kiss, it’s not like there actually much pride left to salvage. Better for Rebecca to think he was pathetic then for her to think she was a monster.
“Cosas-s-s pasó” Instead his tongue just disobeyed him further, and he was losing control of his breath again, coming in too fast and shallow.
“You don’t need to explain anything you don’t want to.” She gave an effortful smile. “I don’t need to know your past to know how to treat you properly, and I assume if anyone needs to be killed, well Chris and Jill.”
“I don’t think she would do that for me.” Luis clutched on that as a lifesaver, anything to take the attention off him and all this.
“At the very least she would do it for the rest of the world. She may be brusque but she has a good heart.” That brought a strained giggle out of both of them, mostly just for a chance of any relief from the awkwardness. A chance for both of them to breathe.
“I want to try again if you want.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive - you’re the one good thing in this whole mess.” Luis bent down, face to face with Rebecca. Rebecca gave him a simple nod and he leaned in.
Luis tried to ignore everything pushing in and just focus on Rebecca. Focusing on the faint scent of strawberry from her lip gloss, the strong taste of sugar and coffee, the feel of the soft skin of her neck, as his hand went up to her short hair. Her hands holding onto his waist slipping under his lab coat. Her own racing heartbeat that he felt more then heard.
‘
It wasn’t quite as grounding as the exercise Rebecca guided him through earlier but it did the job.
Rebecca was the first to pull away, giving Luis a quick scan. “I think we can call that a success. Spain really needs to take better care of their geniuses-Oh shit I forgot! Tickets to Australia!” In a blink Rebecca was untangled and running out the door. She paused long enough to shout over her shoulder. “Oh, and you better not run those tests until tomorrow. Instead clean up and rest before Chris barges in here. I’ll be back before you know it!”
With that she was gone as Luis quickly got to cleaning. He had a lotto ticket to buy after all.