Work Text:
Ada has been nothing if not self-sufficient for as long as she lived. That's what made her so good at her job among her peers, considering her relatively fresh age in this fielf. She didn't rely on anyone to get her through even the most difficult of tasks, and when she did, it was very purposefully and solely for her own benefit only.
Shw wasn't operating in a completely ruthless manner, of course. Ada was no callous monster. That said, she has made a knowing choice to never play the selfless hero. She promised herself this the first time she put herself into this dirty line of business. She was way past the moral conundrums and debates on what is good and evil. The world was dashed in different dirty shades of gray, some darker and grimier than others. But nobody was of a pure white, no matter how much they might have wanted to appear as such.
She certainly wouldn't lie to herself on that front, either. She was no saint. In fact, for some, she might have been a devil, inky black from all sides and lacking in anything that might have made her human.
She would take on the offer if the monetary reward was worth it, do it well, get her well-earned reward and forget about it all the next morning like a fleeting dream that was far too meaningless to even try to remember. Whether that was good or evil was not her judgement to make.
However, that was more challenging when she was not operating independently. Wesker was one thing, an old acquaintance always preferring to stay back in the shadows and loom over her from afar. She could ignore his useless boasting like an irritating fly buzzing near her ear every once in a while. A sentiment she certainly wouldn't voice to him aloud, but a helpful one in practice nonetheless. She couldn't exactly do the same with someone physically there by her side, wringing her one way or another. And that didn't even take into account her lack of teamwork skills.
Having a partner meant sharing the good, but also sharing the bad. In the event that your partner makes a mistake, the repercussions will be felt by both parties, not just one. And Ada did not appreciate someone else potentially squashing her successful streak.
However, you were an exception to that frustration of hers. There are no constants in this line of work. With no names or even faces left untouched throughout the years to rely on, people would come and go. Vanish as if they never existed at all, and then resurface as completely different individuals. Even Ada herself has gone through this change plenty. Ada Wong was simply one name among many. Just as meaningless and fleeting. A ghost to be dismissed and diminished from this world once it has overstayed its welcome.
But you'd stumble into her time and time again. It would sometimes take weeks. Sometimes months. Sometimes years. She's pretty sure the first time she ever saw you was back when she was just fourteen, far from the experienced and hardened mercenary she was today. She supposed that was one of the reasons you have always gotten under her skin.
While for others she was Ada Wong, for you, she was someone else. Someone that even she was unable to fully understand. And that was dangerous. Thankfully, you have never used your unusual acquaintance against her. If anything, you wasted it to your own detriment. She'd certainly happily hold it over someone's head if she was in your position. She wouldn't even blame you if you did that to her, really.
You would just nod and comply whenever she dismissed you or insisted on handling things her way, never once attempting to outdo her, even for your own benefit. You were different from Wesker in that regard, another thorn in her side different from all the rest. But, unlike Wesker, who would burrow himself beneath her protective layers with sheer brute force, you were more like a vine crawling along her side, never pushing but more than capable of slithering in if only she was careless enough to let you.
Ada didn't like admitting weakness. Not only because of her pride - although it was, admittedly, one of her worst flaws - but also because it opened her up to getting exploited. It was very different to do all the dirty work on your own terms, and to do it because you have something to protect. She didn't want to do the latter. Never again, anyways.
She kept you at a distance because of this. Not that you ever pushed her against that.
But that's far more difficult to accomplish when she's actively carrying your limping form away from the chaos of a brutal shootout, her clothes stained with your warm blood.
There was no clear objective reason for her to sweep in just in the nick of time and finish off the guy pointing his pistol square to your forehead. She was just within the reach of those documents that would cost a fortune if she was to deliver them into Wesker's waiting hands. Getting to them was more trouble than it was worth. Throwing it all away just to keep you alive was not only reckless and foolish, but it was also... weak of her.
She tried not to think about it too much, though. Not now. Instead, she turned to throw a couple of flash grenades behind you to hopefully keep you two from getting caught even.
Injuries were not part of your plan at all. Perhaps you just got overconfident. As you always do, you thought you could slip through the shadows and come out on top completely unscathed. Well... Not this time around.
As you stumbled along, your hurt leg was steadily leaking more blood, every step more painful than the last. And this outfit was one of her favorites, too. Darn. Blood was always such a bitch to remove. Though, obviously, stained clothes were the last thing on her mind right now.
"I'm- surprised you're sticking around," you muttered out through clenched teeth. "I'm just a liability right now."
-And it was essential to get rid of liabilities, rather than wasting time trying to find a way to fix what's already broken. That's something Ada abided by. So did you. The sentiment was shared. Nonetheless, you weren't one to complain. You would have been long dead by now if Ada hadn't swooped like your knight in shining armor. Or a knight in a dashing red coat, that is.
"-Quiet," she replied dryly, firmly supporting you by the waist and leading you towards the direction where she had conveniently parked a car as a spare getaway earlier. Though, it wasn't supposed to be used for this. Her gaze was still cold and calculated, without any signs of worry or concern, but, unfortunately for her, you knew her better. She was attempting to conceal her emotions; nevertheless, the subtle tension in her shoulders and the firm grip on your waist revealed her genuine intents, as well as her own perplexity over this situation. "This was careless."
She knew you knew that as well as she did. She didn't have to say anything. And yet, she couldn't help but seethe quietly. Why? Just because you got reckless and almost payed with your life for it? That wasn't her business, was it. Or was she this worked up because now your initial objective was left abandoned for the time being? Well, nobody forced her to do that for your sake.
Perhaps, she was actually more angry with herself and her own actions rather than you.
Either way, she quickly helped you settle into the passenger seat and fastened the seatbelt, a little too carefully for her own comfort.
Brushing off another unwanted observation, she climbed into the driver's seat, turned on the engine, and started to drive, abandoning both the impending danger and her own morals behind. Your body was slightly trembling from where she could see you in the rear window, your vision swimming as the adrenaline steadily wore off for you with every passing second. You were left feeling increasingly in pain.
You leaned your head back against the car seat, eyes shut tight, as you seemingly tried your best to breathe through the fiery pain that was probably pulsing up your leg with every frantic heartbeat. It seemed to be ineffective. She's pretty sure you could taste copper on your lip because your teeth were sinking into it so hard. Ada would know. This feeling of agonizing helplessness and rising pain was one she knew too well. Though... she had to bear with it alone.
You did not.
You should be grateful that you're receiving any assistance at all. That was a rare occurrence in itself. In a way, you being in pain kind of played in her favor, however morbid that might have sounded. She dreaded all the questions that would definitely follow once you had a clear head on your shoulders again. Questions she didn't have an answer to. The reason for her change of heart was something she was just as confused about. But, thankfully, you didn't have the inclination to ask. Yet.
"Abandoning your objective because of me? I guess I should feel honored."
Ada tightened her grip on the steering wheel. She jinxed herself. Her expression remained neutral, betraying no emotions except for a hint of something similar to irritation flashing through her eyes. It was actually aimed at the whole circumstance rather than just you. The mission was a disaster, Wesker was going to be onto her ass again, and she had you bleeding out on her backseat. And a ruined outfit, too. She would have cussed by now if she didn't have an image to maintain.
"My current objective is to make sure you survive this."
Her statement was not an admission of any deeper anxiety on her behalf, but simply a straightforward assertion. As usual, she was pragmatic. That's what she told herself, at least. Easier to focus on the problems at hand than all the emotional baggage that'll only complicate things in the long run.
The vehicle was traveling quickly through the debris-filled streets, maneuvering around obstructions and making abrupt curves without any problems. Ada was a smooth driver, after all. Her nervousness did not change that. The steady engine hum and your occasional groans of pain were the only sounds that filled the tense silence between you, before you broke it with a hushed mutter: "I guess... we're on the same page there."
She didn't respond to that. Although it did irk her just how weak you sounded just now. However, if you were fooling about, she'd probably be just as irritated, if not more. There's no winning for her here no matter what you do or don't do.
Occasionally, she would catch a glimpse of you out of the corner of her eye and assess your state. Just to make sure you weren't passing out on her. That would be bad. She didn't get a chance to take a proper look at your leg yet, but there was very little she could do for you if that gash got to your femoral artery. Her gaze was as calculative as ever, but there was something else to her brown irises whenever she gazed over at you. Concern. But she would never voice it out loud.
The thought of you dying like that... it made her feel sick. Queasy. Not you. You were the one thing that still maintained her fragile connection the young girl she once was, the one thing that remained constant despite how different she has become over the years. Losing you would be like losing that girl for good. She thought that was okay with her, that she's made peace with cutting out everything she's ever known up until this point. And yet... Her heart was pushing her into fighting against fate itself to make sure you live and carry that piece of her with you.
The car came to a halt in front of a seemingly abandoned building after what seemed like a torturous eternity to her. In actuality, though, it was probably no more than twenty minutes at most. Ada swiftly cut the engine as she left the vehicle and went to your side to open the door and help you out again. Not like you could hobble out by yourself like this, even if you wanted to.
"...Can you walk?" she asked you flatly as if already fully expecting you to say 'no'. Which, she was. But who knows, maybe she'll get lucky at least in something tonight.
"I can crawl?" You suggested in a sardonic tone that was shakier than she would've preferred, likely due to your pain. She could feel your frustration and pain through the iron grip you had on her alone, and her eyes hardened for a moment before returning to her usual aloof expression. Even when your nails sank into her skin with borderline bleeding roughness, she showed no pain.
She felt the need to snap at you to ease off of her if you still wanted her help. However, it's not like you could really do much about it, considering the clear pain each wobbly step caused you. And if you did not have her support, you definitely would have fallen over. Ada might have been annoyed, but she wasn't cruel. She was no Wesker, who'd probably happily let you try and walk on your own, only stepping in to taunt you like a kicked dog when you'd inevitably collapse beneath him.
...She's seen enough of his twisted ego to know she couldn't afford him knowing about this.
"You're not funny." As she surveyed your surroundings to make sure there were no active threats in sight, the abandoned structure standing silently before you didn't appear pleasant. But she wasn't looking for pleasant, anyway. Only safe and desolate. And this one fit the bill for now.
Despite the constant screaming presence of pain that was supposed to keep all of your thoughts occupied, you did not appear to agree. Your disbelief was clear as day as you looked up at your destination, taking in the decrepit building of choice. "Do you plan to patch me up here? I guess it's safer, but still..."
That nearly prompted her to arch a brow at you. She wouldn't be picky with the location in your place. But you were always more sensitive than she was.
"Sorry, were you expecting a five star hotel?"
That seemed to shut you up, nothing but a somewhat embarrassed huff leaving your lips. One that, as soon as she tugged you along without warning, was followed by a tortured hiss. Ada half-carried and half-dragged you towards the entrance, her face devoid of any sign of concern. However, the tiny clenching of her jaw revealed her ever-present worry. Whether it was for her pending future or your well-being, or a combination of both remained to be seen.
Once inside, she looked around for potential threats, but she didn't locate any. Unless a couple of scattering rats counted as one. Finding a moderately clean place to sit was more difficult, with layers of dust and moldy furniture taking up the majority of the area. Still, eventually, she gently placed you down onto the floor, back leaned against the wall. It was as dusty and gloomy as everything else, but it would do for the time being. Better this than dead or at Wesker's whims.
You shivered, your head hitting the wall with a distinct thud. Looks like it didn't really register compared to the constant ache in your leg, though. Despite her internal grumbling, you were honestly managing this exceptionally well. No crying or begging on your part even with the horrid pain you were in. Your whole bottom half probably felt like it was on fire, but you were still able to make dumb jokes.
...She was honestly proud of you. Even if she did not express that sentiment.
"Stay still," she ordered as she began rooting through her bag. She went through the things inside and pulled out some essential medical supplies, antiseptic, wipes, a suture kit and bandages included. Not much, but she could make do. It's better than nothing but your own clothes on your back. And she had pulled through such dire circumstances before.
"...Well this is going to be pleasant," you gritted out through clenched teeth. Because Ada was completely focused on the task at hand, she paid no attention to your sarcasm.
Some part of her hoped you would simply pass out from the pain to spare you both from the worst of it. Though, that may mean waking up without her. That seemed like something she would usually do. Then again, you should be grateful for any assistance she provides you here. But she was still curious as to why. What was the reasoning behind it for her? She's always tended to avoid doing things that wouldn't provide her with benefits in some way or another. This clearly did not appear to be one of those instances.
If anything, she was losing more than she was gaining here.
Brushing all these thoughts aside, she quickly started rolling up your pant leg as she knelt down next to you. The fabric peeled away from the skin already sticky with dark shades of brown and red, the sight far from a pretty one. When she saw the magnitude of the damage, her normally expressionless face broke into a tiny wince that she was unable to control.
"This is worse than I thought." She leaned in closer to see the large gash across your calf properly. Some blood was still trickling down, staining your skin further as some of it dripped down onto the floor. She had a lot of blood to clean up.
Not saying a word more, she moved to rip open a packet of antiseptic wipes with her teeth, meticulously dabbing at the edges of the cut as her fingers quickly stained that same pesky shade of red.
Naturally, her touch only intensified your pain, your eyes flickering shut and your body tensing up beneath her involuntarily. You were handling it better than she expected you to, though. The best she could do to repay your patience was do her best with what she had at hand as well. Despite her inner grapple with herself, Ada's hands did their work with a clinical detachment; the only hint of any feeling on her part was the occasional clenching of her jaw whenever you jolted under her touch with a muffled whimper.
You groaned as your head slammed back against the concrete wall, even harder this time. Ada certainly didn't envy you right now. Getting hurt on the job was always unpleasant, but far worse than the physical pain was the sense of powerlessness that accompanied it. After all, not like you had the luxury of a caring medical team hurrying to take you in before your untimely death. The care you received was only financially based. A hefty one, sure, but still leaving you to your own vices with little to no care if you were to get yourself in trouble. It was a matter of high risk with high reward, a gamble you chose to participate in willingly, but still more than a little daunting to deal with.
That's how you two have lived your lives so far. Which was exactly why her sudden resolution on taking care of you was so out of place.
At the very least, your situation was definitely better than amputation. Which did happen to some in the worst-case scenario. Of course, that was only a small comfort, and it didn't make things any better for you in the moment. Especially when you had no anesthesia to help you through the pain.
She managed to clear the area to a point where she could see the gash more clearly now. Thankfully, it wasn't nearly as bad as she initially thought. Even though it would keep you out of commission for a considerable amount of time, it was not anything that might potentially endanger your life if she was to take promt action. So, with a quick nod to herself, she moved away to prepare the next step. Your pain won't decrease, but improvement was made. She was satisfied enough to keep going with less anxiety now. "Keep still, you'll need stitches with that."
"Goddamnit..."
She couldn't really blame you for that reaction.
Her hands were solid as she prepped the needle without hesitation or shaking. Nerves never did anything good. You'd rather be well cared for but upset than soothed but with a nasty wound that will just make things worse for you in the long term.
"Try to hold still. This won't take long." Her voice remained calm and measured, avoiding any hint of concern that could have revealed her true emotions, or cause you panic. She had previously attended to injuries in the most critical situations, primarily her own. This time was no different.
With a single breath, she started to thread the needle into the rough corners of your skin without warning. Each little puncture made you gasp and whimper beneath her, no matter how hard you might have tried to prepare yourself. She knew the pain was intense and relentless for you, each stitch feeling like an agonizing eternity to experience. This part was always the one she disliked the most. Yet, Ada maintained her cold exterior, her expression betraying nothing as she continued to work over you. Although she was used to this, the sound of your stifled noises of pain got through her even though she was trying to emotionally distance herself.
...She almost caught herself wanting to hold your hand. Thankfully, her hands were busy, so that thought remained nothing but a discarded slip-up to be forgotten.
After what felt like an eternity, she finally finished her last stitch, and cut off the thread. It was a disgusting mess of blood and tissue, but at least it would last until you could receive the right medical care.
"Done," she announced curtly, her voice flat and void of any feeling. But her gaze flashed up to your pale face for a fleeting moment, taking in your unkempt appearance and pained expression, before immediately moving away.
...She was used to this. However, she came to the realization that she wasn't used to seeing you so helpless and vulnerable. It got under her skin in a way very few things ever did, and she didn't know what to do with said fact.
In any case, she wiped her hands off your blood and allowed you a minute to collect your breath and recover. She just about used up the entire pack of wipes with this... You two couldn't afford another accident like this.
Your breaths came out in short, quick pants by now, and the trembling in your limbs was uncontrollable, regardless of how much you might have wanted to appear tough in front of her. There was little room for dignity here. Your greater familiarity with pain than the typical civilian does not render you invincible to it. None of them are. You were still human at the end of the day, with all the flaws and vulnerability that came with it.
But she knew you were very fortunate, even if you were suffering right now. You could have sustained a laceration on your abdomen rather than your leg. Those were almost always close to impossible to treat properly out on a job. Or a nasty open fracture. Or a bullet wound. Truthfully, your situation was far from the worst. But she knew your nervous system certainly did not agree to that logical thought of hers even if she was to voice it. Your brain was probably banging and screaming with nothing but a ruthless mantra of pain, pain, pain.
"Fuck..." You let out a sound that was more of a pitiful whine than a stiffled grunt that you had intended to make, and you cringed noticeably in response to your own weakness.
Ada made it seem like she didn't notice, more out of consideration for you than her own pride this time around. She knew she didn't like coddling. Instead, she focused on bandaging your calf to keep it clean and reduce the chances of further infection while you're still out on the run of sorts. Her swift and deft fingers stood in stark contrast to the worry that flashed across her face. After she was done, she sat back, still kneeling next to you. The thick and heavy quiet that hung in the room tormented both of you, as did the tangy smell of blood that was now mixed with the sickeningly humid air. She had something on her mind, though.
"...You're an idiot," she finally spoke up, her tone surprisingly soft for her usual way of speaking, but still laced with a hint of annoyance. It was almost tender, but not quite. "What were you thinking, rushing in like that? You should have known better. You should have-"
She paused, hesitant to express her genuine concern. She hated this with all her heart. Feeling concerned for someone and being vulnerable as a result. It was merely a liability and a weakness. And yet, she was unable to keep the words from leaving her mouth.
Granted, her scolding was unsurprising; it was just about the expected response from her. Plus, you were lucky enough that she took care of you in the first place. You had no choice but to take it.
When the pain had somewhat lessened, you grumbled and leaned up on your elbows. Oh, it still burned and pulsed like a bitch, no doubt. But at least you had the ability to think. The bandage wrapped around your leg was already steadily turning a pale shade of red, but it looked leagues better than anything you could have spruced up by yourself.
"I know, I know, I owe you. You saved my ass back there. I don't know why, but... thanks. Really."
Ada frowned and focused on reorganizing her first aid kit, deliberately avoiding eye contact with you. She refused to acknowledge the ticklish warmth that rose up in her chest with that simple thank you for her efforts.
"Don't mention it," she gritted out, her tone sharp and dismissive. It was hard for her to get back to her usual detached self, especially because you looked so weak and vulnerable. The silence felt once again heavy and tense. Both of you refused to recognize the unspoken emotions lingering in the air between you.
She continued packing away the medical supplies, her movements becoming more aggressive than usual. She was trying to regain control over the situation and her own emotions alike. Only, emotions were notoriously uncontrollable and unpredictable. Something that was very difficult for her to accept.
After a long time, she finally finished putting away what was left of the first aid kit and stood up. Not only did she turn her back on you, but she also haphazardly ran her hand through her hair, which was an unusual sign of anxiety on her part. You probably have noticed her acting odd already, you were a sharp one, frustratingly so.
"Are you okay?"
Speak of the devil. She almost wanted to laugh. It was just like you to ask about her when you were in severe pain minutes earlier. This compassion of yours was... an issue.
"You should rest," she said curtly, her back still turned to you. It was not so much a suggestion as it was a command. "We're stuck here until I find another way out of the city. And you'll need your strength."
Although her voice was brusque, it had a hint of exhaustion in it. The weight of the situation and her concern for you were finally taking their toll on her, no matter how hard she tried to conceal it from you.
You blinked up at her, truly baffled. The surprise was so intense that you seemingly momentarily forgot the searing pain in your leg. You stared at Ada's back, almost like you would get some answers out of it if only you stared long enough. Of course, you got none. She wished she had these answers, too.
"Wait- You're staying?"
She hunched slightly, her shoulders visibly stiffening. She refused to face you, still not turning around.
Of course you were convinced she would be on her way right now. It was enough luxury for her to lead you out of there and patch you up, but for her to stay back because of you too? That... was very much not what you'd expect from your partner. And she was fully aware of that. She couldn't just pretend as though she wasn't acting out of character, whether she liked it or not.
"What, are you surprised I won't just leave you here to fend for yourself?" she snapped back at you, a hint of defensiveness creeping into her tone. She knew she was acting more aggressively than normal, but it was a protective tactic. It was more convenient to hide behind anger than to acknowledge the concern and care she had for you. It put her in danger, something she couldn't afford.
"Well... Yes, actually. That's what I'd expect you to do."
You were blunt as ever. Then again, she couldn't exactly blame you, either. She'd be asking the same questions if she was in your position. But even if she wanted to, she didn't have a clear answer to give you. She sighed.
"...You're injured, and you'd probably just get yourself killed the moment you step outside on your own." She finally turned to face you, her eyes stern and calculating. But there was also something else churning in there, something she was trying to hide. It was almost like... worry. "So, yes, I'm staying. Whether you like it or not."
You blinked, holding her gaze for a moment. She supposed she shouldn't be mad at you for being shocked. Of course you'd fully expect her to leave you to fend for yourself, maybe leave some keys or something if you were really lucky. But this was on a whole other level. And she had no way of justifying it. No way that wouldn't open her up to being far too dangerously vulnerable with you.
"Didn't know I make you this soft," you finally said, the corners of your lips twitching upwards ever so slightly. It was not intended to be a jab or a tease; rather, it was a genuine surprise. You honestly looked almost honored. Even if you weren't sure how to tell her.
Regardless, Ada's expression remained steadfast, but her eyes narrowed slightly. This shift in your relationship didn't sit well with her. The ease with which you were teasing her.
"I'm pragmatic. You're of no use to me dead, are you?"
Her argument was cold and calculated, but you both knew it was not totally correct. Her words were directly contradicted by the small spark of concern still present in her eyes as she watched you wince and squirm.
Despite the harshness of her words, she approached you and knelt once more. She carefully adjusted your position, making sure you were as comfortable as possible given the circumstances. Her movements were quick and almost clinical, but her fingers stayed on your skin for a second longer than they needed to.
You huffed: "I guess not, but... I'm not of much use to you like this either."
Touché.
"Just- try to get some rest, alright?" She muttered, refusing to meet your gaze. She knew full well that she was now deliberately avoiding providing you with an appropriate response. This was not nearly as subtle as her usual tactics would be. She's becoming sloppy. "You'll need your strength."
Despite her best efforts to seem uninterested, the tension in her voice was evident.
You shifted a little, obviously unsure of how to react to this. That's something you both agreed on. Especially the light flutter in her chest from your concern for her well-being, despite your own pain. Sure, she kind of knew that you held some sort of stupid affection for her - more of a puppy crush in her eyes than anything substantial, really - but she never really expected it to be reciprocated on her part. She was a realist by nature. She was not prone to flimsy fantasies of romance or anything of the sort. And you were okay just holding your own while also spending time with her whenever she permitted it.
Maybe that's why you stood out so much. You've never expected nor asked anything of her. Everyone who has crossed her path has sought something from her in return. That was the way the world worked. If you take something, you must give something in return, regardless how unpleasant or ugly it may be. But you... You never begrudged her for not returning your affections. It's definitely more than she could say for half the men she's captivated over the years.
Being the one to stumble over her words and tremble on the inside was... strange, to say the least. She wasn't sure if she liked it.
...She hated how vulnerable you looked right now, and how it was stirring up these odd, new feelings within her that she didn't want to acknowledge.
"What, are you going to keep watch over me, too?" You asked somewhat weakly. She paused. It won't matter much whether she stays or goes. You can't do anything to stop her like that anyway.
"Of course I am. You're a sitting duck like this, in case you didn't notice. I'm not letting you out of my sight."
She looked down at your injured leg for a second before returning her attention to you. Her jaw ticked slightly. After straightening up, she distanced herself by a few paces in order to do a mental inventory of the limited resources that you two still had on you. She rummaged through her bag again, keeping her movements efficient and precise. While she didn't look back at you, her coiled shoulders were very unlike the detached mercenary you knew.
For a while, you both were silent, but the atmosphere remained thick with unspoken words and unaddressed feelings. Or maybe it was just her increasing fatigue making her more sensitive. Or the stale air finally getting to her.
...Or the combination of all four factors at once.
You gazed at her in silence, equally uncertain on what to say. Uncertain on what words wouldn't cause her to flee in this rigid state. Ada has always seemed like some kind of feral cat. Proud, elusive and independent to a fault. And it was notoriously easy to spook off a feral cat with just a single wrong move.
Obviously, you wanted to ask her why she was doing this for you, but you were aware that you wouldn't get a direct answer. Or any answer, really.
"Wesker's not going to be happy with you doing this, you know...", you muttered. Ada wasn't sure why you were pointing this out to her. Of course, Wesker wouldn't be happy. She knew that very well.
"-I'll deal with Wesker," she replied coldly, her tone leaving no room for argument. She turned around at last and gave you an unclear look. There was a spark of defiance to her eyes. She was honestly a tad irritated at being reminded of her orders and obligations.
You raised your brows: "Well it's just that... I've always thought his orders were of higher priority, no? What if he punishes you for going against him like that? Or hurts you? Or-"
Curse you and your damn compassion. Ada clenched her teeth. You were in just as much danger here as she was, if not even more so. You should put your safety and well-being first if you were smart. Instead, here you were, worrying over her with your busted leg.
She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the wall across from you. Her eyes remained on you, as observant and calculating as ever, but there was a hint of something else there, something soft and... protective.
"My priority right now is getting you out of here in one piece. After that, I'll deal with whatever Wesker throws at me. End of story."
Her words carried a tone of iron definitiveness, leaving no room for debate or objection. She had already determined her course of action and she wasn't about to change it. And if there's anything to know about her, it's that she gets what she wants. One way or another.
"I... Thank you, Ada," you finally said, quiter, almost timid. She would have thought it was cute if the situation had been different. It wasn't often she'd see you get bashful like this.
"If you want to thank me, then you better not die on me," she muttered. Despite the fact that her tone remained authoritative, it was not quite as icy as it used to be.
You chuckled dryly, and she felt that same ticklish warmth blooming deep within her ribcage, providing a welcome distraction from the rising pressure between her temples. Although she wouldn't share it for obvious reasons. You almost looked just a little smug, knowing she picked you over Wesker. It wasn't that significant, of course. It was no secret that she held no personal liking towards the man, as with any other employer. But she'll allow you to have this small victory, if only because she'd rather you smile like an idiot than writhe in pain.
You shot her a rather lame-looking grin: "Can't make all your efforts go to waste now, can I?"
Ada emitted a faint snort, a little smirk tugging at the corner of her lips, but she promptly stiffled it. She wouldn't admit it out loud, but there was a small sense of satisfaction in leaving Wesker in the dust to do something that, in his eyes, was just a minor inconvenience not worth their time. She liked the notion of letting him down in a subtle way like this. Still, she maintained her aloof facade with a soft scowl, but her gaze remained on you.
"Just shut up and rest already," she quipped back, though there was a faint note of amusement hidden beneath her rough exterior.
"-Yes ma'am," you said, somewhat lightheartedly - as lightheartedly as your pain and exhaustion allowed you to be right now, anyways - figuring there was no grand answer for you to pull out of her right now. She wouldn't give it to you if there was one. And you're not capable of much like this, anyway.
Normally, you'd wake up on your own. Knowing you, you wouldn't be at all surprised at that, nor would you even hold it against her. Then again, you were privileged enough already to have had Ada Wong herself not only physically drag you to a safer location but also patch you up on top of that.
In the end, you probably fell asleep while planning in your mind to be very alert when you woke up, if you woke up at all. But you didn't need to. She was adamant about staying, regardless of the benefits she would reap from leaving.
As your eyelids finally fluttered closed, Ada let out a soft sigh, her posture drooping once you weren't there to see her moment of weakness. As she stared at you, her gaze grew somewhat more gentle. All this time, your face showed signs of exhaustion and pain, but in this moment, you appeared almost peaceful. She felt almost... guilty because of your situation. She wouldn't admit it, of course, but she regretted being unable to protect you from that needless injury. Stupidly, illogically, she blamed herself more than she blamed you for acting recklessly.
The room fell silent once more, and the only sound that broke the still peace was your gentle breathing, a constant proof of you being alive and well, even if weak. She tried to resist this peculiar, persistent feeling in her chest, but her gaze always reverted back to you with unwavering persistence, like a moth drawn to a flame. You were a dangerously gentle flame to flutter over, however. Dangerous enough to make her loose her guard.
Ada leaned her head back against the wall. Your wounded leg was now the main subject of her subtle concern as her gaze kept flickering down to it. She attempted to justify this sudden care and protectiveness that enveloped her. She told herself that it was only pragmatic on her part. You were a great colleague and an asset to Wesker. Her inability to leave you behind to die was due to those pragmatic reasons alone.
That marked the conclusion on the matter.
That had to be it.
She continued to lean against the wall, silently keeping an eye on you while you slept, her mind buzzing with both suppressed thoughts and unsaid words alike. After some time had passed, the light outside gradually began to fade into darkness, only making this space feel even more oppressive to be in. You remained asleep, clearly more than a little fatigued by the day's events. She, however, was still fully awake and on guard. As a trained mercenary, she was accustomed to maintaining constant alertness at all times. It was part of the job. Though, she would usually stay awake and ready for her own sake, not to protect someone close to her who was in the moment of weakness.
...You made her break way too many self-assigned rules tonight. Guess she better try and put all this nervous energy to some good use, at least.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
When you woke up, the first thing that hit you was the cloying scent of florals and rich raspberry. Perfume. An expensive one at that. That alone was strange in and of itself. You would expect the smell of damp concrete or musty air, hell, even blood, rather than this. Though, while you were stirring, the answer came to life in a very short amount of time. You found yourself laid out on a couch - dusty and decrepit, but undeniably miles better than the hard, cold floor - a coat draped over you.
Ada's coat.
You paused, your hand lingering over the crimson fabric. Well, this was just too lucky. You must have done something very extraordinary in your past life to be able to experience this right now.
You were obviously grateful for it. But you still had some very important questions to ask.
You moved to prop yourself up on your elbows, cringing with a faint grunt as the pain in your leg became increasingly intense. Regardless of the pain, you couldn't afford to relax. Looking around, you could see a small fire crackling in the half-broken down fireplace, dancing dark orange shadows illuminating the space. No wonder you weren't nearly as cold as you'd expect.
You tensed up and squinted into the shadows as soon as you heard a faint rustle of movement coming from your side. Not that you could even do anything worthwhile like this even if it was a threat, though. Fortunately, it was only Ada Wong herself. Still right here in the flesh, still just as confusing and alluring as ever.
Ada was still here, wouldn't you know. You supposed you should stop feeling surprised at this point, but still.
She was seated on an armchair in the same room but farther away, presumably to simultaneously monitor you and your immediate surroundings. Meeting your surprised awake gaze, she straightened up, her own brown eyes filled with a combination of relief and caution. You found it almost cute. Almost as if she was happy to see you awake and alert. However, before you could utter a genuine good morning to her, another faint grunt of pain from you prompted her expression to stiffen instantly.
"...You're awake." She got up and approached you, her heels clicking on the floorboards as her gaze darted down to your bandaged leg.
You grunted in acknowledgement, shifting to at least try and sit up properly.
"Did you carry me here...?"
...You didn't know why you were asking. It's not like you sleepwalked all the way over here on your torn up leg. Perhaps you just wanted a confirmation from her. Something.
But, frustratingly, Ada's face stayed as impassive as ever, giving you no hints on what she was thinking or feeling. She merely gave a brief nod.
"You weren't exactly in the state to walk yourself here," she replied, a hint of that familiar dry sarcasm present in her tone.
You smiled sheepishly. That was fair. She didn't have to do that, though. But you remained silent about that thought. She studied you for a moment, taking into account your condition. You guessed you probably looked worse for wear, and that's not even mentioning the pain now permanently etched on your face. Compared to her flawless completion and composure alike, you were a walking disaster. It certainly felt that way, anyway.
"And you... tucked me in?"
You noticed that Ada's lips twitched upwards ever-so-slightly. It was a brief moment of amusement on her part, and it was quickly replaced by her usual stoicism. A shame, you thought. She looked rather pretty when she smiled.
Well.
Prettier than usual, anyways.
"Don't sound so surprised," she retorted. "You were tossing and turning. I didn't want you rolling off that couch and aggravating your injury any further. ...Can't make all my efforts go to waste now, can you?"
You blinked, unprepared for her to turn your own words against you in such a way. You couldn't say you disliked it, though. It felt almost... flattering. To have her pay so much attention to what you say and do. Even if she was probably only acting on her mercenary skills of observation.
"Still... A bit of an overkill, don't you think?" You knew you were really pushing your luck with her now, but you couldn't help yourself. Your hunger for an honest answer from her at this point was overwhelming. Or even just a confirmation of what you both already knew.
A confirmation that she cared about you far more than she should have.
Of course, as expected, she was quick to fold her arms over her chest, staring down at her coat that was draped over you like it has personally offended her. It looked almost cute.
She stepped closer, now standing right next to the couch, and stared down at you with a gentle huff. Her eyes scanned your bruised and battered form head-to-toe, her jaw clenching involuntarily at the sight of you. Did you really look that bad?
Either way, this time, you confronted her stare directly.
"-It's cold in here," she argued, her tone almost... defensive. Not so much a skilled mercenary you've worked with, more of an embarrassed woman caught off guard. She tried to maintain her aloof demeanor, but the soft spot she had developed for you was clear as day in small gestures like these.
"Cold... and you chose to take off your coat for me." You were uncertain as to why you were pointing all these things out to her. Maybe because they were too out of character for Ada. In a way that made things dangerous for you. Without giving it much consideration, you reached over and took one of her hands in your own to see whether it was warm or not. Of course, they were cold. "-Are you cold? How long was I out?"
You definitely surprised her, as her fingers tightened beneath your touch. You knew she wasn't into physical contact she didn't initiate on her own accord, but, surprisingly, she didn't back away from you just yet. Her expression remained impassive, however her steely gaze softened marginally.
"I'm fine. You were out for three hours," she replied. You two were quiet for a while, just the noises of the city somewhere in the distance and the soft crackling of the fire breaking the silence. Ada's hand remained in your grip, her fingers still tensed slightly, but she didn't pull away. She was staring down at you with obviously mixed thoughts. Even though her expression remained blank, there was a sense of vulnerability and hesitation surrounding her that was rarely seen in her demeanor.
You chose to break the stillness and change the subject for her sake: "...Shouldn't you rest a bit, then? Seems only right after having you do all the heavy lifting for me."
She appeared to be torn, as if she had a desire to say something but couldn't quite find the right words. Or perhaps she was hesitant to voice them. After a long pause, Ada finally spoke, but her voice was so low it was almost a ghostly whisper. Her words had nothing to do with your proposition at all.
"...You could've died."
Her words hang heavily in the air between you, as if she was speaking to herself rather than you. The stoicism she had been trying so hard to maintain for once gave way to genuine worry. Her grip on your hand tightened slightly, almost reflexively, as if to make sure you were there and alive.
You answered wordlessly by gently running your thumb across the back of her hand. It was as soft and smooth as you expected it to be. It most likely smelled like her expensive perfume as well.
Ada shivered. Even though it was a simple gesture, it felt almost disturbingly personal to you. For a moment, it almost seemed like all of her usual defenses have wavered, and you grew acutely conscious of her soft touch, sending a warm sensation radiating up your arm. However, it was a very short-lived. Soon enough, she was already gritting her teeth, her fingers twitching slightly in your grasp. But you were quicker.
"-But I didn't. Thanks to you."
"Don't thank me," she muttered, her voice rough. "I just... did what needed to be done."
You laughed, even if it was sarcastic. If it had been anyone else standing here before you, those words might have been true. However, you weren't rescuers or heroes. In your field of work, you were the opposite of that. It was neither good nor selfless.
You both knew that half-truth. She wasn't obligated to stay next to you like this. She wasn't obligated to wrap you up in her coat like some stray kitten. She wasn't obligated to watch over you for hours on end, just to make sure you're still alive. And yet, here she was. And here you were.
"We both know that's not true. I'm nothing but trouble to you right now." You stopped and looked down at your leg, which Ada's coat was now covering from your eyes. "But... That's why I'm grateful."
Ada's eyes darkened slightly. She appeared almost inclined to disagree, and a considerable part of you wanted her to do so. You wanted her to tell you that you were wrong, and that she didn't care if this was trouble for her. That you meant this much to her. She had never cared about things like this with anyone else before. In a way, you wanted her to confirm that you were really special to her, that you weren't just imagining things. Actions may speak louder than words... But sometimes, a word is all you need to know the answer for certain.
As if burned by the contact, she abruptly removed her hand from yours and stood up straight, turning away so quickly that it almost felt like a retreat.
"...You're thinking too hard," she muttered gruffly instead of answering you properly. You were aware of her motivation here, but you still felt frustrated by her actions. She was pulling away because admitting why she stayed would mean acknowledging something neither of you could take back once it was spoken aloud.
You shook your head. She's going to abandon her assignment to patch you up and tuck you in while faithfully watching guard, but actually talking about it or even acknowledging it is a no-go? Even she was unable to have it both ways, and you couldn't help but wish to point that out to her.
But, in hindsight, this was probably way more frustrating for her than it was for you. Or even scary. You felt a tad guilty for prodding at her like this.
So, for the moment, you chose not to pursue the topic any further, opting to give up to avoid overstepping and potentially regretting your hastiness later down the line.
"Your hand's freezing. Let's at least share your coat until you warm up, hm?"
Ada glanced over her shoulder at you. It was hard to tell what she was thinking because she just stared at you in silence for a bit. She glanced at the couch and then returned her attention back to you, almost like a silent question of sorts. She reminded you of a cat sitting in front of the couch waiting to be given permission to come up but pretending to be nonchalant about it. So, you raised your brows in a silent confirmation of your own. You didn't mind if she refused to talk. You could speak without words. She appeared to give up her resistance at last. With a heavy exhale, she turned, sitting herself next to you, her shoulder lightly touching yours. To your astonishment, she silently took your hand back in hers and wrapped her coat around both of you, the cloth warm from your body heat.
The room fell silent again, but it wasn't tense this time. There was something almost... comfortable about the gesture now as your fingers wordlessly laced together, the fabric of her coat draping over you two. Ada kept her grip tight - a little too tight, but you didn't mind - her hand still cold but quickly warming up against the heat radiating from your skin. The mercenary you've grown to admire, who was typically so stoic and distant, now sat silently with her shoulder gently pressing against yours and her eyes staring directly ahead.
You had no further words to say, but you stayed close like this. In the end, she slowly leaned slightly to the side, resting her head on your shoulder, much to your surprise. The gesture was surprisingly soft and intimate, which made it feel... strange. But not in a bad way at all. The stoic, unflinching Ada Wong you knew was slowly disappearing, replaced by someone else entirely, someone that almost seemed fragile to you. A distant reminder of a young girl with a different name you no longer remembered whom you met many years ago, bearing a different name yourself.
You were supposed to shed your past names and lives alike once you took on a new one. But you can't really get away from your past completely, can you? Maybe that's not such a bad thing sometimes. If only there was someone to lean on when you were vulnerable.
She didn't speak or move to pull away from you, either. Her gaze stayed fixed forward while she remained in that fragile but comfortable position, her cheek pressed to your shoulder and her hand entwined with yours beneath her coat. She did not move. One would think that she was rather cold and distant right now, but you knew better. You could feel your chest tighten a little when you realized just how much something like this meant coming from her.
It was a wordless 'I trust you' that was as dangerous as it was precious. You slowly moved to place your cheek against the top of her head, brushing your thumb over her knuckles once more.
'I trust you, too.'
And while you two sat there in this cozy and heavy silence, you knew you'd follow her anywhere. Whoever she becomes. Regardless of the next name she takes. You knew her as someone without a name, but with a heart that remained unchanged behind the sturdy walls built around it.
You were safe with her when you needed it most. You wanted to ensure you'd do the same for her, even if that means keeping a piece of her tucked away into the deepest corners of your heart. A piece of her that wouldn't change no matter what. And that was a piece that cared too much for those she held dear.