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With nervous fingers, Leo loosens his tie. What’s the point of escape exits, he muses, when all the glass doors leading to the stairwell remain locked?
If he could, he’d rather walk down all those five hundred and seven steps than take the lift.
He squares his shoulders, pushes a zero on a panel closest to him and waits for a system to inform him which lift he should take. The ‘C’ flashes across a tiny screen and Leo moves with resignation to the end of the hallway where his lift is descending from the higher floors, ready to take him nine floors down. There he’ll have to undergo the procedure again to go down another fourteen floors. Then, finally, only eighteen more floors and he’ll be free.
Leo carefully steps into the car of the lift, trying and failing not to think about the deep chasm of the shaft under his feet and his life dangling on a thread of a cable.
With a dim ping the landing door closes and an artificial female voice informs him he’s leaving the 41st floor.
Leo backs further into the car, gripping the handrail. He can’t bear to see his own ashen face reflected in all the mirrors decorating the inside of the car so he squeezes his eyes shut.
41 – 40 – 39 – LURCH!
Too soon to have travelled all the way down, the lift comes to a halt with a nauseating swing.
Leo’s stomach is still reeling when the door slides open with a ping and the fake voice announces the 39th floor.
Leo manages to calm his racing heart. No more extra stops, no more stops, he prays.
Twelve hurried steps from the corridor, then Ramos appears from behind the corner and smoothly slides in between the door as it starts to close.
“Hi,” Leo says weakly, wondering if his day could possibly get any worse.
“Hello,” Ramos replies automatically, not taking his eyes away from his phone.
Leo is more than content to keep ignoring each other but the silence doesn’t last.
‘You are now leaving the 39th floor.’
Ramos glances up at the ceiling where the speaker is placed, makes a face and turns to Leo, probably to exchange a commiserating look about the annoying announcements.
Ramos finally recognizes him. He needs but a second to recover, his pupils narrowing. “Oh, looky, looky who’s here.”
“Hi,” Leo pipes again for the lack of anything else to say.
38 – 37 – 36
Could they be going any slower?
Ramos smirks and takes an unnecessary step towards Leo, forcing Leo to back away if he doesn’t want Ramos invading his personal bubble. Jerk.
Leo is pressed flush against the back wall, the steel handrail digging into his back. He counts the seconds.
“What brings you here?” Ramos asks, tone accusatory more than conversational. Leo sees it all in those sharp, expressive eyes. Ramos has never been one to guard his expression on the pitch and he’s not hiding anything now.
“None of your business,” Leo snaps. He’s not allowed to mention having visited the accounting offices on the floors above.
Ramos smiles but the expression in his eyes doesn’t change at all, and he leans sideways against the wall, body half twisted towards Leo, making him feel caged. Leo shuffles his feet, trying to inconspicuously put some distance between them.
Ramos isn’t having any of it and he smirks in satisfaction, probably putting Leo’s paleness down to his display. Idiot.
35 – 3… BREEP!
The lift jerks violently and stops moving.
They both stop glaring daggers at each other and turn their heads to the door. It remains shut.
“What the fuck?” Ramos mutters, moving closer to the door for an inspection, poking at it and trying the call button to get it open.
Leo isn’t moving.
Leo isn’t sure he’s breathing. This right here, this is a nightmare. Ramos is going to witness Leo’s downfall and likely survive to tell the tale.
“We’re stuck,” Leo says, suppressing a bubble of a hysterical laughter when he realizes the rhyme.
“No way,” Ramos says, stabbing the ‘door open’ button, then holding it for long moments, then stabbing it repeatedly with an increasing anger. “No fucking way,” Ramos growls darkly. Ass. “The slowest lift in the country, I swear.”
The alarm button gets them no response.
Leo isn’t surprised. He feels the adrenaline pump in his blood stream, his heart picking up the speed. Three minutes, Leo thinks and wishes he wasn’t trapped with Ramos of all people.
Ramos is just kicking the door in frustration when the lights go off without a warning and the car is plunged into a perfect darkness for long seconds before the emergency lighting casts everything into a dim pale light.
Leo makes a pained noise and Ramos’ silhouette moves closer.
Ramos scoffs. “Believe me, I’m just as thrilled as you’re.”
Leo doubts that.
Ramos keeps coming closer and Leo is just about to snap and tell him to back off, when Ramos points above them. “Do you see that?”
“An emergency trap door?” Leo chokes out.
“Can’t hurt, right?”
“We should stay put,” Leo reasons. One minute, forty eight seconds.
He can’t quite see Ramos’ expression in the semi-darkness but he can hear his voice. “You’d rather stay in here?”
“No.”
“Then out of my way.” Even with his height, Ramos can’t reach the trap door. He swears up a stream, then turns to Leo. “Get over here. I’ll give you a leg up.”
Before Leo can protest, he is being hoisted up.
“It won’t budge!” Leo reports, overcome by dizziness.
Ramos swears again and lets go of Leo without warning. Leo falls down without grace, the impact shaking the car ever so slightly.
Ramos finds the alarm button again and pushes it a few more times for a good measure, then pulls out his phone. Leo watches his illuminated face as he scrolls down his phone.
Leo’s three minutes are almost up.
“Power outage,” Ramos says darkly. “It took out the whole AZCA.”
“Why didn’t the generators kick in?”
“No idea. Maybe the lifts are not a preference?” Ramos says but he doesn’t sound sure.
The last couple of seconds.
Leo can already feel it overpowering his senses. He sticks his thumb and forefinger into the knot of his tie and undoes it completely, then pops open the few top buttons of his shirt.
The shine from Ramos’ phone gives him enough light to see Leo’s actions. “What are you doing?”
“Panicking,” Leo says evenly and Ramos laughs.
Jerk. Idiot. Ass. Jerk. Idiot. Ass.
“You’re doing a great job at that,” Ramos comments with a chuckle.
“I know,” Leo grits through clenched teeth.
Ramos puts his phone away, probably to save the battery, and the car darkens anew.
It’s making Leo freak out even more so he latches his eyes on the shadow he knows to be Ramos. It’s something else to focus on other than being trapped in the lift, hovering above a bottomless pit.
His eyes adjust to the dim light again. He takes two unsteady steps until his trembling hand finds the railing. Leo sucks in a shaky breath.
“Shit.” Something in Ramos’ posture shifts.
It’s remarkable how fast he reacts and how quickly he picks up on Leo’s distress. He strides to Leo and forces them both to sit down on the floor, facing each other, with Leo’s back braced against the wall of the lift. “Don’t fight it,” Ramos says simply.
Leo tries not to whimper. “It’s so fucking hot in here.”
“There’s plenty of air. The help is on the way. C’mon, breathe with me.” Ramos grabs one of Leo’s hands and brings it to rest flat against his own chest.
Leo can feel the rapid beat of Ramos’ heart under his fingertips, which doesn’t help his current predicament in the slightest.
Ramos’ hand is wrapped around Leo’s wrist, one snap and that would be it. His wrist looks so fragile engulfed in Ramos’ hand but Ramos isn’t doing any tackling. If anything, his thumb is gently tracing the underside of Leo’s wrist. Ramos is probably just trying to figure out Leo’s pulse but it feels soothing.
“Slow, deep breaths. C’mon, inhale,” Ramos takes in a demonstrative breath. Leo can feel Ramos chest raise and fall under his palm. “And exhale.”
Leo takes in the next deep breath together with Ramos – and dizzying black dots start dancing in his vision. He closes his eyes.
“Dammit,” Ramos grunts, letting go of Leo’s wrist and placing his own hand on Leo’s abdomen. “You need to breath in deeper for me, okay? I count to four, you slowly inhale, then you hold your breath as I count to eight, then you slowly exhale while I count to seven, okay? Four, eight, seven, okay?”
Numbers, that Leo can focus on.
One and two and three and four. One and two and three and four and five and six and seven and eight. One and two and three and four and five and six and seven.
Leo keeps choking on air but Ramos keeps counting in a measured voice.
Four, eight, seven.
They’re on a fifth repeat when Leo becomes aware of Ramos’ hand splayed on his thigh, tracing little patterns of triangles into his skin to accompany his count. Up and right, down and right, to the left and up to the right again.
“Stay with me, you’re doing great.”
Leo is still too far gone to reply. He keeps breathing according to Ramos’ lead.
Four, eight, seven. Four, eight, seven. Four, eight, seven.
Ramos’ words are a constant that doesn’t let Leo get lost in his own headspace.
Leo keeps his eyes closed so he doesn’t have to see the shadows in the half-light around them. The intimacy of the closed space is making the wave of panic crash over him times and times again whenever his mind strays.
Leo’s palms are clammy, his hair damp at the nape of his neck, Ramos’ warm hand is still caressing his leg.
He lets himself be drawn by the calm voice and the simplicity of the tasks Ramos demands.
In four, hold eight, out seven.
Leo’s heart rabbits in his chest, going too fast for Leo to cope. He is wheezing through his breaths and gasping for air because whenever he thinks he’s calming down and slows his breaths to match Ramos’, his lungs start burning up.
Ramos remains composed as he tirelessly repeats the instructions over and over. Any other time Leo would laugh at that, tease Ramos for playing rough and tough but being such a softie – but it’s a side of him Leo would have never gotten to see any other time. Any other time Leo wouldn’t need a guidance just to keep breathing. It had to be today, it had to be in the lift, it had to be with Ramos there to see how Leo crumbles apart.
His mind is quickly dashing down the slippery slope so Leo tries to grasp at the straws of reality.
He can’t see anything but the closed space. He can’t hear anything but his own panicky breaths. Leo whines feebly and tries to take the next few breaths through his nose.
He manages to take a shallow breath without choking.
He breaths in, holds his breath until Ramos evenly counts to eight, then breaths out.
Ramos is wearing a strange cologne, something crisp and woodsy and maybe a bit too sweet, but not enough to make Leo gag.
Leo breathes in. Holds his breath. Exhales.
To keep his mind from going into a lockdown, Leo tries to pick apart the smell.
He can’t quite tell what’s the subtle spicy bite and he only suspects oranges for the sweeter undertone but overall, it’s a comforting scent.
Four and up. Eight and down. Seven and level.
Eventually, the worst of the attack subsides and Leo gets his breathing under control. It takes forever – it always does. Leo always feels like he will never get there but a moment comes that his mind starts feeling grounded again. More focused on the present, less like he’s dreaming.
“Feeling better?”
Leo snorts. He isn’t feeling like he might black out any second, if that qualifies.
“Good.” Ramos pats his leg and withdraws his hand. “Was kinda getting worried you’d die on me due to hyperventilating.”
Jerk. Idiot. Ass.
Leo inhales sharply and then keeps the headcount for his breathing, a memory of Ramos’ calm voice still in his ears.
Four. Eight. Seven.
Ramos snaps his fingers in front of Leo’s face a few times. “Hey, hey, you in there?”
Leo manages to swat his hand away.
“Ah, yes you are. I guess I really don’t wanna know what goes on in that coconut of yours. Finally cracked, eh?”
“Fuck… off,” Leo manages.
Ramos chuckles and turns so he is sitting propped up against the wall beside Leo. “I would love to. But in case it has escaped your notice, we’re kinda stuck in here for the time being.”
Leo feels the tendrils of despair grasp at him again, luring him into the darkness.
Oranges. Leo tries to focus on the faint smell of oranges.
“Shit, you’re not going under again, are you? Jesus, can’t you take a joke?”
Ramos peers at him closely and Leo violently jerks his head sideways because he has no more room to move. No room to move, nowhere to go but down. Down the elevator shaft, down, down into the darkness.
“Don’t hurt yourself,” Ramos snorts.
“Tch,” Leo gurgles.
“Are you seriously panicking again?”
Just hearing the word is like a slap. Leo’s breath hitches. “N-no,” he forces out.
“Oh, c’mon, don’t think about it.”
“I… can’t,” Leo chortles.
Ramos sighs and scuttles closer. “Does this help?” Ramos’ body is a long line of warmth along Leo’s side.
Leo doesn’t answer but he doesn’t try to get away ether.
“I guess it does, huh?”
Leo tenses up waiting for the next scoffing remark. Ramos sighs, relaxing against the wall.
All that can be heard for the next few moments is their breathing.
“Not feeling very chatty, are you,” Ramos says after a while. “It’s all right, I get that. I can do chatty instead. Because seriously, the silence is killing me. Shit, sorry, no talking about the silence, got it! Fuck, I’ve just done it again, haven’t I?” He huffs, hand coming up to scratch on his cheek. “Hey, you ever heard about the one time I got lost in Sevilla? I’m serious, I got legit lost. Had to ask for the directions and everything. Good times. I bet you’d love to hear all about it.”
Leo would laugh, but his body feels too numb and the line between hysterical giggles and uncontrollable crying is dangerously thin.
Luckily, Ramos doesn’t seem to care much for his input, and launches into the story, describing every little detail of the day, down to the patterns of the wooden fans the vendors were selling on the market Ramos was passing through.
True to his word, Ramos is pretty chatty and Leo finds it easy to focus on the story rather than the surrounding darkness and the strange noises the building around them is making.
It seems Ramos can’t help himself but to needle Leo every now and then with surprisingly well aimed insults – eventually, Leo gets used to that as well. He has a sneaking suspicion that while the insults cut deep, they are only half-hearted. Ramos is just saying those things to… to rile Leo up?
Leo frowns. That can’t be right. Maybe it’s because that’s what is expected. Because Leo wouldn’t expect anything less from Ramos. Oh.
Something clicks to place. “Are you being a jerk just because I think you’re one?”
Ramos stops mid-sentence. Even in the shadows, Leo can make out that Ramos turns his head to face him. “Wow, really nice to know what you think of me.”
“Are you trying to get me to hate you?” Leo rephrases.
Ramos fidgets. “Don’t be absurd.”
Something about his tone tells Leo different. “You are, you totally are!”
Ramos makes a frustrated noise and pulls his legs up. “Am not.”
Leo’s brain is finally waking up from the cotton haze that comes hand in hand with the ragged breathing, madly beating heart and cold sweat. Four and eight and seven, Leo reminds himself.
“Well, you said it,” Ramos says, “it’s easy to hate me.” The warmth that was there when he was telling his little story is gone altogether and Leo only now realizes it, now that the tone turned icy cold.
“I didn’t say anything of that sort.”
“You thought it,” Ramos says.
“And you used that against me,” Leo accuses. Although, that’s not true either. All Ramos did was take his mind off the situation they were in.
“The very definition of evil.”
“You wouldn’t even know how not to be a jerk,” Leo says.
“No, I wouldn’t,” Ramos answers blankly.
Leo wishes there was more light because he can’t read Ramos at all. An uneasy silence settles between them. Leo regrets having opened his mouth. They are still trapped in the metal cage, it is still unfairly hot inside of the cabin and now that Ramos isn’t talking to him to steer his thoughts away from their situation, Leo is feeling worse by the second.
Four. Eight. Seven. He wishes he still had the weight of Ramos’ hand on him to link him to the present. He’d rather not get lost in his mind again. He tries to focus on the feeble smell of oranges that lingers in the air.
Then Ramos breaks the silence. “Fucking finally. You hear that?”
At first Leo thinks Ramos must be hearing things but then the steps become clearer and clearer and Leo can make them out as well. Nine, thirteen, sixteen, eighteen…
“Hello? Is anyone there?”
Leo’s throat is so tight he can’t answer. He can’t speak, he can’t breathe. He shivers.
Ramos perks up when the call comes. “Hey! Hey!!! We’re stuck in here!”
Female voice, rather young. “We’re so sorry! It will be about ten to fifteen more minutes. Do you hear me?”
“Yeah! We will be waiting. Please hurry!” Ramos yells.
Ten to fifteen minutes. Ten to fifteen minutes.
“How many people are there?”
“Two.”
“Anyone injured?”
“No,” Ramos bellows.
“So you’re both okay?”
Leo’s hand closes around Ramos’ shoulder like a talon. Ramos brings his other hand to pat at Leo’s wrist.
“Yes!”
“Okay. I need to go through the other floors. Will you be okay? Probably only ten more minutes.”
“All right!”
Twenty three, twenty four, twenty five… and then the steps get too faint to be heard.
Ramos clears his throat. “You okay?”
“Yes,” Leo says and hates how small his voice sounds. Ten to fifteen minutes.
“It’ll be okay, you’ll see. Just hang in there and we’ll be out in a few.”
“We’ll be still in the building,” Leo says. It’s only when the words are out that he realizes he doesn’t want Ramos to know just how deeply upsetting is the thought of the other two lift rides. If they get out, they’ll still be thirty two floors too high.
“I said I’ll see you get out all right and you’ll get out all right, seriously, don’t think about it.”
Leo takes in a slow breath, holds it in, then lets it out, equally slowly. He realizes he’s still holding Ramos’ shoulder in a vice grip. He forces his fingers to unclench but he doesn’t let go entirely.
Ramos clears his throat. “Have I ever told you about the time in Poland when Karim locked me out of my room after curfew?”
They both know he hasn’t. “What did you do to piss him off?” Leo asks, settling back against the wall.
“I didn’t do anything!” Ramos says hotly and Leo finally feels like he can get enough air into his lungs.
Seven minutes later, the lights flicker back on.
“Fuck, my eyes,” Ramos groans, throwing an arm around his eyes while Leo just blinks rapidly.
Leo feels tears welling up and he keeps blinking until the small space of the cabin comes into focus. He realizes he’s been holding onto Ramos the whole time and lets go, folding his arms across his chest instead.
His heart starts beating faster again. “Do you think…?”
Ramos pulls his hand away from his face. In the bright light, Leo can see the exhaustion and the tension for a few seconds, before Ramos rubs his hand over his face and when he looks at Leo, all he can see is the usual carefree smile. “I should certainly hope so. C’mon, up, up.” Ramos offers him a hand.
Leo grabs it and lets himself be hauled up on his feet. His legs feel numb, the rest of his body tense and pained. He sways on his feet. Ramos’ other hand shoots out to hold onto Leo’s hip, steadying him and not letting go once Leo finds his balance.
“Uh,” Ramos says and his eyes slide off to watch something behind Leo’s back. Probably their reflections. “You should fix your shirt and tie if you don’t want people jumping to conclusions.”
Nine, thirteen…
“Oh, right.” Leo feels some colour returning to his cheeks. He fumbles away from Ramos and hastily buttons up.
Ramos’ smile turns more cocky. He cranes his neck to the left and slouches against the side wall of the cabin, looking completely relaxed. Leo envies him the nonchalance.
Sixteen, eighteen… “Hello?”
The next minutes are blur and it’s funny how close Leo gets to panicking again, although the worst part of his day is, hopefully, over. Then again, he thought that when he was walking out of the offices on the top floors.
They get out of the lift and Leo stretches his arms, enjoying the freedom. They aren’t much lower to the ground and Leo carefully steers away from the windows at the end of the corridor. There are more panels and more lifts, he needs to get through this once more to get from the 32th floor down to the 18th floor, and there the last few minutes of torture and he will be free.
He takes in a calming breath. Just a matter of few minutes before there will be firm ground beneath his feet. The odds of two malfunctions happening back to back are very slim, Leo tries to reason with himself.
He can’t bring himself to do it. He’s just staring at the neat numbers and willing himself to close the distance, press the buttons, survive the ride and be out of the darn building.
He braces himself. His palms are sweating. His breathing quickens. On the count of three, Leo tells himself. One. Two. Three.
He doesn’t move.
He can’t move.
It takes him a moment to separate the steady count of Ramos’ voice in his mind from Ramos’ actual words.
“…and I figured you could keep me company,” Ramos is saying, having appeared at his side. Leo thought that by now, Ramos would already be all thirty two floors down because he isn’t getting delayed by freaking out.
“Like a bandaid,” Ramos says quietly.
Leo is too busy trying to control his breathing to do something as mundane as pushing the correct floor number.
Ramos doesn’t have the same dilemma and he solves the problem for Leo by pressing a few buttons on the control panel. Their lift is the one to the right, closer to Ramos who nudges Leo along with his elbow, not as sharply as he could have.
Ramos keeps the chatter all the way down and Leo is tense, but his thoughts don’t feel like they might spiral out of control.
When they make it to the ground floor, Leo feels like weeping he’s so glad. The lift finally stops and the door slides open. Ramos stops talking and they both turn to look at the exit.
“Well.” Leo lets out an awkward chuckle. “I guess this is my stop.”
Ramos snorts. “Sorry to break it to you but you’ve missed your stop by about…”
“Five hundred and four kilometres,” Leo fills in.
Ramos looks at him funny.
Leo grins. “Your jokes aren’t that original and I’ve got a knack for numbers,” he offers.
Ramos shakes his head, probably not believing Leo. He is watching Leo closely and Leo realizes he can’t read this particular expression any more than he could in the darkness. Leo hates the scrutiny, he feels like Ramos’ eyes are looking directly into his mind, seeing every thought.
Leo averts his eyes.
Ramos is too perceptive for his own good anyway. It took months for Leo to figure out the signs telling him the attack is about to happen and Ramos picked up on it basically before it even started in full.
Leo forces himself to meet his gaze again. “How did you know I was…”
“Freaking out?”
“Yeah,” Leo says slowly, not matching Sergio’s teasing tone as he echoes, “freaking out.” Ramos’s face falls and he opens his mouth but when no sound comes out, Leo adds, hurriedly, “I don’t need to know. Just, thanks.” There, he said it.
“Don’t mention it.”
Leo puts on a smile.
“Seriously,” Ramos mutters. “Don’t ever mention this. To anyone.”
“Or you’ll end me, right?”
“Smart boy.” Ramos takes out his phone and glances at the screen, then he slides it into his left pocket again. “Do you need a lift somewhere?”
“I missed the plane,” Leo admits with a slight shake of his head, watching as the sun sets.
“You needed to get somewhere important?” Ramos asks, rolling up his sleeves.
Leo’s eyes catch on the feathered skull on his right forearm. “Not urgently.”
“Good. I’ve got a car in the parking space bellow if you feel like you could survive the extra the lift ride.”
“One more time, for the old times’ sake?”
Ramos chuckles. “I knew there was a reason why I liked you. C’mon then, let’s get this part over.” Ramos pushes the button to call the lift.
The artificial voice again, then the lift gets moving.
The hand Ramos throws over Leo’s shoulders doesn’t feel patronizing. Leo accepts the comforting gesture and leans into Ramos, catching the way Ramos’ lips curl up in a small, pleased smile.
“You said you won’t be missed,” Ramos drawls.
Leo keeps a count of the passing floors. “Not for a day or two. Why? Planning on getting lost it Madrid?”
The low rumble of Ramos’ laughter is the most pleasing sound. “You up for it?”
They finally hit the correct floor. When the door opens, Leo gives Ramos a curt nod, hoping he can read the challenge in his eyes. Leo walks outside of the lift with a determined step. He has no idea where Ramos might have parked his car. His steps waver.
“To your left,” Ramos snorts and follows, falling into step with Leo and sneaking one hand on Leo’s back to steer him in the right direction.