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"Leon," Luis groaned. He flipped over in bed, from his right side to his left, the dressings on his back heavy against his skin. He was about to call out again when the lamp on Leon's side of the bed was flicked on. Tired blue eyes met his own and tousled blond hair poked out in all directions. A small smile made its way onto his face despite the pins and needles lining his wound.
"What?" Leon asked, somewhat impatient, no doubt because of the interruption to his sleep. His eyebrows were furrowed and his lips were pursed in a small pout.
"Do you have any paracetamol?"
"Huh?"
"You know, the medicine?"
"Yeah, never heard of it."
Luis sighed. "Acetaminophen?"
"Tylenol? Yeah, sure, give me a second." Leon walked to his bathroom and began to rummage around, presumably in his medicine cabinet.
Luis sighed and shuffled back, placing all of his weight onto his arms and palms. His back painfully nudged against the headboard, and he let out a small grunt.
"You okay in there?"
"Yeah, I'm fine, Sancho. Just sore."
"I figured. They didn't give you anything stronger?"
"Do I look like I'm made of money?" He choked out a dry laugh. "I'll never get rid of this debt as it is."
"Yeah, well, at least you're still kicking," Leon shrugged. His mouth twisted into a grimace, and a pit formed in Luis's stomach. "It isn't the worst thing that could have happened to you." Leon walked back to his bedroom and presented Luis with a glass of water and a few pills. He swallowed them and downed the water, inexplicably thirsty
"Guess not."
Leon rounded the bed and crawled back into his spot. He tugged his blanket over his bare legs, but didn't lie down. Instead, he turned to face Luis. "Can't sleep, huh?"
"Yeah." Luis blinked. "Well, I mean, no. I can't."
"Been there. Happens after every mission, but it was the worst after..."
"Yeah," Luis nodded. It was selfish, but he didn't want to hear about Umbrella or Raccoon City right now. It didn't seem likely that Leon wanted to talk about it, either.
"Anyway," he swallowed, "sleep doesn't come easy to me either. And now that I'm up, I doubt that I'll be able to go back to bed. So, if you need anything, I'm your guy."
"Thanks," Luis offered, his mouth dry. "I appreciate it."
"It's no problem. You're staying in my apartment, the least I can do is help you out a little."
"Still," Luis added, eyes downcast, as if the stitching on the blanket he had been given was particularly interesting. "You don't owe me anything."
Leon scoffed. "You saved my life. Our lives. Ashley and I are only here because of you."
"I'm the reason you two were in that mess," Luis sighed.
Leon stopped, his lips pressed into a tight line. "You know that's not true," he insisted.
Luis didn't think he sounded very confident about that.
"I'm going to make some coffee. Want some?" Luis nodded. A distraction would be nice. Leon slid his legs out from under his blanket and padded into the kitchen, and when he was gone, Luis slouched. The pain was getting much worse, and God, he needed a cigarette. If he could, he would have walked out onto the balcony and lit one after the other until the shame and fear crawling its way up his throat was forced back down into his stomach, abated for a moment. He hadn't asked for a smoke since Valdelobos, too scared that the ash and the smoke would remind him of what felt like his own death, but he itched for the calming effects of the nicotine. It just didn't feel right to ask Leon to buy them for his sake— smoking was an expensive vice, and one that Leon had seemed to barely tolerate. That last light was purely one of courtesy, and the two of them were well aware of that.
Leon interrupted his train of thought when he leaned against the door frame and spoke. His socked feet were crossed over each other, and in his hands he held two mugs. "It's just the cheap instant shit, nothing fancy," he explained.
"No need for 'fancy', compañero. This is fine." He accepted a mug and smiled, lopsided and not entirely genuine. "Black?"
"For you."
"I see. You like yours sweet, eh?"
"Just some milk and sugar. It's too bitter without it."
"Particular, aren't you?"
"I'd rather not have to choke it down."
"I just take what I can get," Luis laughed. "You learn to be okay with anything after a while."
"How do you take your coffee? When you do have a choice?"
"Dark. Can't say I enjoy it any other way."
"Old habits die hard," Leon supplied.
"Something like that."
"Luis," Leon began, his coffee abandoned on his bedside table. He was standing to the left of the bed now, close but maintaining enough distance to keep Luis placated— or, at least, that was what it looked like. "You have done some terrible things."
"The understatement of the century," he scoffed.
"It's only been five years. Seems like a bit of an early judgement." When Luis only rolled his eyes, Leon continued. "I can't say that you deserve to be forgiven, because I'm not sure if I have that in me, but listen to me. There's no reason to blame yourself over everything that has happened since then. You said it yourself, you left when you found out about Raccoon City."
"I shouldn't have even gone to Paris."
"So, what, you expected yourself to know? No one knew until it was too late, Luis."
"You were tormented by one of those things. Creatures that I helped create."
"There were six of them, I think," Leon mumbled. His steely demeanor had began to slip away. Luis tried to imagine a younger version of him, unprepared and scared, but found that he couldn't. He had never been helpless. Lucky, maybe, but he had pulled himself out of the wreckage of that damn place just the same as Luis had escaped the village years before, when he had latched onto the foolish idea floated in front of him, the offer to work for such a prestigious company with no catch.
"I haven't changed, Leon. I went right back to Spain, where they wouldn't come looking for me, and I helped Saddler research the parasite."
"Did you have a choice?" Eyes flicked back to him where he was resting against the hard wood of the bedpost.
"I... I did, yes. I only thought of it as a way to do what I enjoyed again. I didn't think of the consequences. I didn't know what they would do to us. The people I grew up with."
"But when you did, you left."
"Sí."
"And I'm supposed to blame you for what? Being naive?"
Luis paused, finally out of things to say.
"It's fine to have regrets, Luis. God knows I have plenty. But there's no point in dwelling on the past for any longer than you have to. You've learned from it, you've grown, and you have changed, even if you don't think you have."
A tear escaped Luis's eye and though it hurt, sobs began to rack his body. Wordlessly, Leon climbed back into bed, and gentle hands cupped his wet face. Luis let the tears flow, resigned to his emotions. He babbled apologies, barely coherent, and he wanted to rock back and forth to soothe himself so badly that it added to his panic. Leon just shushed him and uttered small reassurances— "I know", "it's okay", and "just focus on me" paired with the grounding sensations of thumbs stroking his face, the scar under his eye, his flushed cheeks. Luis leaned into his warm touch and urged himself to calm down.
“That’s it,” Leon cooed. “It’s alright. Just come back to me.”
“Lo siento,” he sniffled.
“Stop apologizing. Just breathe.” That he could do. In through his nose, out through his mouth.
“Thank you, Leon.”
“Of course.” His hands were still on Luis, but they had migrated down to his own hands now. Their fingers interlinked and Leon looked away when Luis caught his eye. Luis took another sip of coffee, careful not to burn his tongue.
“You look like you want to say something,” Luis added, nervous.
“I do.”
“Let’s hear it.”
“First, I just want to make sure you’re okay.”
“I’ve gone through much worse.”
“How stoic of you.”
“I try.”
Leon sighed. “Will you… can I kiss you?”
“What?”
“You can say no.”
“Who says I want to say no?”
“So that’s a yes?”
Luis nodded. “Yes.”
Leon shifted to sit in front of him and leaned in to peck his lips, slow and gentle, as if he was offering Luis an out. Luis laughed and initiated another, his stubble scratching Leon’s chin, and extended a hand to cup his face.
“That’s enough to wake me up,” Luis mused.
“You sure it wasn’t the coffee?”
“Not a chance.”
Leon curled up at his side and reached for the television remote. “Anything you like?”
“Never was a TV person.”
“I’ll find something.” Luis hummed and settled into the covers. Maybe tonight wouldn’t be so bad.