Chapter Text
“WHEN YOU WORK IT OUT, I’M WORSE THAN YOU.
WHEN YOU WORK OUT WHERE TO DRAW THE LINE,
YOUR GUESS IS AS GOOD AS MINE.”
Everything hurt. Luis’ entire body felt like it was on fire while being tugged at the seams to rip him apart. He wanted nothing more than to wail in pain, but he couldn’t open his mouth. His body no longer felt like his own, yet the pain that was being inflicted on it still very much was. Luis had always assumed death would be peaceful, but this felt like complete, utter torture. Distantly, he could hear a gruff voice he had only recently gotten used to saying something. The words said didn’t register in Luis’ mind as he sank deeper into the darkness.
Slowly, the pain started ebbing away. Luis started feeling weightless like his body was being carried somewhere. He couldn’t discern if this was real or if it was just his body finally surrendering to death. He could do nothing other than just accept his fate and wait to discover where this weightlessness was taking him.
Eventually, he felt his body be gently dragged down by gravity. The twitch of his fingers told him he had regained some control of his body. This either meant he had miraculously survived the knife to his back or he was effectively in the afterlife. The sudden bright light that penetrated his eyelids suggested the latter. Sluggishly, Luis opened his eyes to be greeted by the sight of a woman with tan skin and flowing brown hair that went past her shoulders. The sight of this strange yet familiar woman caused Luis to shoot up and sit on his knees.
Luis had never met Lucia Navarro, but he could still recognize her as if she had been with him his whole life.
She smiled at him as if he wasn’t a criminal. As if he wasn’t a sinner. Her light basked him in a comforting warmth regardless of his past. She began to walk toward him, making her light shine down on him harder. Luis didn’t squint or shy away. He just yearned for her light even more.
“Mamá,” he croaked, reaching out for her like a small child.
Lucia continued to smile at him as she crouched down to his eye level. Her hands reached out and cradled his face. “Mi dulce niño,” she cooed.
It was like a dam was broken as Luis threw himself into her welcoming embrace and began to sob. He never thought he’d ever get this chance to see and hug his mother. Her touch was pure comfort as she began to rub circles on his back. She only rubbed circles on one part of his back where he could feel the phantom wound of a knife. Her other hand was running her fingers through his hair. Luis just gripped her tightly, afraid that if he let up his grip she would vanish.
There were so many things he wished he could say to her, yet it would never be enough. What is the right thing to say to the woman who gave you the gift of life that you somehow managed to waste? The knowledge that she had died while giving life to him made him sob harder. It should’ve been him. What use was his life when it had only lent a hand in causing destruction? How was his mother not disgusted with him right now?
“Perdóname,” he pleaded through the tears. “Por favor perdóname.”
“Shh, está bien, Luis,” Lucia consoled him while tightening her embrace. “No llores. Todo estará bien, lo prometo.”
At her promise, Luis peeled his face away from her to look into her gray eyes. It was different looking at her this close compared to all the pictures his grandfather had of his daughter. Luis didn’t realize from the grainy black-and-white images that he was a spitting image of her. His grandfather always told him this, but Luis was reluctant to believe him. Now, he wished he could’ve taken his grandfather’s words and accepted them. His grandfather’s pained, lingering stares suddenly made sense. In protecting Luis from the pain of the world it was like he was protecting his deceased daughter.
Even down to their names, their similarities continued. Luis’ grandfather had told him that his mother didn’t get the chance to pick out a name for him, but that she was a big fan of the Spanish still-life painter Luis Meléndez. Luis wasn’t naive, though. He always took note of the way he would refer to Lucia as ‘Lu’ while referring to Luis the same way.
This led to a heavy doubt in Luis’ mind that his grandfather didn’t love him. Of course, he cared for Luis, but was that just because he was Lucia Navarro’s son? If he was just a random boy in Valdelobos, would his grandfather still care for him?
Bitores Méndez was surprisingly the one to ease this qualm. He had told Luis how much his grandfather had cared for him to his last breath, how his last concern was Luis’ safety. Luis thought this reassurance was all he had wanted, but it only made his guilt worse. All the people who cared for Luis ultimately died. Even Méndez himself eventually met the same fate.
“¿Donde está Abuelo?” Luis managed to ask after his tears calmed down.
Lucia just tilted her head and looked at him sadly. “Sólo dejan que una persona venga a hablar contigo. Tu abuelo insistió en que fuera yo.”
Luis frowned. They only let one person come speak with him?
“¿Qué quieres decir?” Luis questioned.
Wasn’t he dead? Shouldn’t he get the chance to see all the people he’s lost? His grandfather? Méndez? All his coworkers from Laboratory Six? Or perhaps that was simply too much to ask. He didn’t deserve the chance to see all of them when he had brought them all to their doom. Seeing his mother should be enough. He shouldn’t be greedy.
His mother just smiled at him sadly. “No es tu tiempo,” she stated. “Todavía tienes tu vida por delante.”
At her words, Luis shook his head frantically. “No,” he whispered urgently. “No me dejes, por favor. Mamá, por favor. No quiero ir sin ti.”
By now, his mother had tears streaming down her face as well. He could hear her holding back sobs as she took him in her arms again. Even if he could no longer hear her or see her face, Luis could still feel her body shaking. He just buried his head into the crevice of her neck in an attempt to hide from the truth she just laid in front of him. Somehow Luis wasn’t dead, but he never wished more than now that he was.
“Cuidate mucho, mi tesoro,” Lucia whispered in his hair, her voice quivering. “Nunca dudes que te amo. Te amo con todo mi corazón y mi alma, Luis.”
Luis could only continue sobbing in her arms even when the same weightless feeling from earlier returned. He wanted to scream and beg whoever was listening to just leave him to die so he could make up for all the lost time with his mother. But fate was never kind to people like him. His mother’s embrace slowly loosened around him until eventually, her touch was only a mere, cruel promise.
—
Another blinding light. Luis wanted nothing more than to open his eyes as quickly as he could to see his mother again, but he could only slowly blink his eyes open. Instead of his mother’s warm gaze, Luis was greeted with a sterile white room and a constant beeping. He still felt like a mere observer as if his soul hadn’t yet returned to his body. Everything tangible felt far away from him. Even the searing pain he knew he should feel in his back wasn’t as bad as he expected.
Luis lazily lolled his head to the side when he heard rustling beside him. His vision was blurry and the lights were way too bright to make out who the figure was. All Luis could do was make an educated guess on who the culprit was, or rather who Luis so desperately wanted them to be.
“Mamá,” he called out, his voice too low and raspy to truly alert anyone, but the figure still quickly stood up and rushed over as if they were waiting for a sign of life.
The closer proximity helped Luis make out more identifying features. For starters, this person was much taller and had a broader build than his mother. There was an absence of tan skin and long, brown hair. In its stead, there was short, blonde hair and fair skin. Very much not his mother.
“Luis,” the figure breathed out, their deep voice tethering itself to Luis’ mind.
Definitely not his mother.
Luis frowned. “¿Donde está mi mamá?”
The figure just remained still. The silence that followed made Luis feel a spike in anxiety permeate his heart. He couldn’t deal with the uncertainty so he asked again more urgently.
“Mi mamá. ¿Dónde está?”
The mysterious figure just grabbed his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I don’t know. I’m sorry.”
Luis could distantly hear the beeping he heard earlier start getting faster. Panic completely overtook his body as he gripped tightly at the hand grasping his. The reality that Luis had no clue where he was or how he found himself here filled him with an unshakeable fear. All he could think about was how one minute he felt safe in his mother’s arms and the next he was holding a stranger’s hand. Luis ached for that comfort again.
“Donde está,” he demanded, his voice tinged with desperation. He attempted to pull the figure toward him, but either he lacked the strength or this person was made of solid rock.
The figure hesitated in responding, their expression unreadable under the harsh lights of the room. “I don’t know, Luis,” the voice repeated, this time with a somber tone. “But you’re safe now. I promise you that much.”
Safe.
It was like the word alone made Luis sink deeper where he was lying, the hand enveloping his becoming an anchor. A sudden rush of serenity washed over him as this person’s touch became his lifeline. Something in his gut told him that he could trust whatever words were uttered by this voice. There was something familiar in its resonance that left Luis with no other choice but to listen.
Sleep began to beckon Luis once more, a wave of exhaustion hitting him suddenly. Still, he wanted more reassurance. “Promise?” He slurred, the words barely making it out past his drowsiness.
He felt the hold on his hand tighten. “I promise,” the voice reiterated.
The last thing Luis heard before answering sleep’s call was a sudden burst of commotion and the firm grip on his hand disappeared.
—
The next time Luis came to, he was much more aware. With a clearer head and clearer vision, he could now make out his environment. It was a private hospital room with two chairs near a window that overlooked…wherever he was. He decided to ask the next person he saw, who just so happened to be his nurse, to specify their location. The answer he received was Sibley Memorial Hospital in Washington, D.C.
The realization that he was now on American soil sent a mix of emotions rushing through Luis’ brain. This must have meant that Leon was successful in his mission…right? There was no way Luis would have made it out of Valdelobos without Leon’s help. Then again, maybe Ada had gotten the amber and held up her end of the deal. Somehow, Luis found that outcome less appealing than the former. Luis wanted more than anything for Leon and Ashley to have made it out of that hellscape, safe and sound.
The more melancholic thought that the hellscape he had been admonishing for the past few months was also his home. Truly, the only home he had ever known. That in itself was pretty depressing considering how everything turned out. It was worse when Luis stopped to ponder on the part he played in the destruction of his childhood village. While he hadn’t known that his research on Las Plagas was being twisted into what it ended up being, Luis still should’ve known better. He should’ve known better then and he should’ve known better with Umbrella.
Luis’ life was just a compilation of atrocities, and somehow whatever powers are in control of his pathetic life have given him another chance. Another chance at what exactly? Destroying more lives? Why was he given another shot at life when all the people he’s inadvertently doomed didn’t get the same luxury? Carmen, the nice woman who always gave him and his Grandfather eggs when they didn’t have anything to eat didn’t get that luxury when Plaga ravaged her body. Jaime, his only friend in the village who didn’t think twice about playing with him, didn't get that luxury when bullets littered his torso. Luis wondered if Jaime ever even got the chance to see the outside world. Everyone in that village didn’t deserve the fate they got, regardless if Luis knew them personally or not.
One thought is made apparent to Luis then. He should’ve died in those mines. Actually, he should’ve died way before then, before he managed to get involved with Umbrella and Los Illuminados. He should’ve died instead of his mother. Lucia Navarro was a good person, in ways Luis could only fantasize about being. She didn’t care if she was outcasted by everyone just because she got pregnant out of wedlock. She wasn’t deterred in the slightest about Luis’ father leaving her. No matter what life threw her way, Lucia kept moving forward and she kept loving. She devoted herself to her beliefs, and nothing could keep her away from being diligent in her religion.
It was a cruel joke that fate had bestowed her a son like Luis. He can’t even remember the last time he went to church. Of course, it’s not that he didn’t want to but rather the fact a cult had taken over the village. Everyone there had once been a devout catholic, but that was now a vague memory. Luis remembers going to church almost every Sunday and his first communion when he was a young boy. When it comes to his baptism, he only knows what his Grandfather had told him. He said that Méndez had urged him to baptize Luis so he wouldn’t be punished in the eyes of God. Luis’ Grandfather agreed on the pure principle that Lucia would’ve wanted Luis to be baptized.
And what good has that done him? Luis is still pure sin. Luis could’ve drowned in that water, submerged entirely in it until he was suffocating, and he would still emerge the same man he was before. He’s a failure of a man and a son. People like him shouldn’t get another chance.
That same cycle of thoughts permeated Luis’ psyche the entire weeks he spent at the hospital. It was easy to spiral when all he saw were the same, bleak hospital walls. Each day started becoming a routine of checkups and the beginning of physical therapy which he was informed would have to continue even after he was discharged through at-home exercises. Luis was not looking forward to that at all. He didn’t know what to expect of his future once he wasn’t confined to this hospital room. Was he going to get thrown in prison? Was he going to just be allowed to roam free with nowhere to go? Luis didn’t even know still if it was Leon or Ada who brought him here. Everything that happened soon after getting stabbed was a haze to him. Luis had to survive more check-ups and talks with nurses and doctors before his question was finally answered.
Leon walked into the room, looking unsure of himself as he glanced around until his gaze fell on Luis who was sitting on the chair by the window. When they made eye contact, Leon had an expression that Luis hadn’t seen before. His eyebrows weren’t perpetually furrowed and his mouth wasn’t on the verge of a frown. Leon looked…almost relieved.
Luis on the other hand looked petrified. He attempted to stand up quickly before a searing pain in his back forced him to sit back down. Leon approached him in a hurry and put a hand on his shoulder. Luis flinched away, expecting to be punished for his involvement in so much of Leon’s trauma now that Leon wasn’t focused on saving Ashley. No pain came, however, and Luis looked up at Leon in slight amazement.
“Leon,” Luis called out softly, in slight disbelief that the agent was actually standing in front of him, touching him. He wasn’t even sure of what to say, and clearly, neither did Leon because the man just continued staring at Luis for a couple more seconds.
Finally, Leon’s hand fell limp at his side, and Luis slightly cursed at himself for wanting more of that comforting touch. “I’m glad you’re okay,” Leon breathed out like he was itching to say those words for weeks.
Luis can’t wrap his head around why Leon would be glad, but he doesn’t question Leon, not when he begins to eagerly tell Luis why he’s taken so long to come to visit him. Leon details the hurdles he had to jump to get Luis not thrown in prison immediately after his recovery. It’s a nice confirmation to have that fate wasn’t letting Luis slide by unscathed from all the disaster he’s helped create, but it’s disheartening to know Leon has somehow saved him from that too. Leon continues to say how Ashley helped to set up an arrangement where Luis will stay with Leon until the government decides what to do with him. It’s not a guarantee of freedom, but it’s something.
Far more than Luis deserves, but he doesn’t dare utter those words when Leon looks at Luis with so much hope. Luis decides then that this limbo of freedom and punishment is the greatest torture of all.
When Luis finally gets discharged and Leon drives them back to his home, Luis is finally able to see the real Washington, DC which is surprisingly more than just the White House. Leon being Leon meant that he didn’t live too far from the president. Luis could forget that fact when he noticed that Leon lived near a park. The sight made a small smile form on Luis’ face until the sight of a church came into his field of vision. His mood soured even more when Leon slowed the car down and parked right across from it.
Leon unbuckled himself and opened the driver's door. “Well, we’re here,” he said as he tilted his head toward a townhome.
Of course it would be just Luis’ luck for Leon to live right across from a church. He was given a few seconds to come to terms with this fact before the passenger door opened. Luis broke away his gaze from the church to look at Leon instead.
“Think you can walk to the front door on your own?” Leon asked with genuine concern laced in his voice.
Luis experimentally put his feet on the ground and hauled himself out of the car. Leon’s hands came out in front of him, prepared to catch Luis in case he were to fall. Thankfully, Luis found that his balance wasn’t too messed up and his back pain was tolerable.
With this discovery, Luis turned to look at Leon with a wry smile. “The pain isn’t too bad today. I can walk there myself.”
Leon nodded along to his words before calling out to Luis when he began making his way to the door. “Don’t be afraid of telling me when it gets bad.”
Without looking back, Luis waved him off. “Muchas gracias, prince charming. I’ll keep that in mind.”
Eventually, Leon caught up with Luis. Luis side-eyed Leon and noted that he was making an active effort to walk slower to match Luis’ pace. This made Luis smile. Surely, if they were back in Spain, Leon would be way ahead of Luis and probably say something along the lines of ‘Try to keep up, won’t you?’
Instead, Leon remains quiet as he unlocks the front door and gestures for Luis to step inside. With tentative steps, Luis enters Leon’s home. He falters a bit, feeling like he was invading a space he wasn’t welcome in. When he hears the sound of the front door shutting and feels Leon’s presence behind him, Luis makes an effort to perk up.
“So this is your home, eh, Sancho?” Luis quips.
Leon moves to stand in front of Luis, and with a shrug he replies. “I wouldn’t really call this my home. More like a place I happen to stay in sometimes.”
With that, he turns around and begins walking into a room with an arch entryway. It was an unspoken command for Luis to follow, so he did. The room Leon led them to appeared to be the living room, the beige couch and wooden coffee table being a tell-tale sign. Leon remains quiet as Luis takes in the space until his eyes land on the staircase.
At this, Luis pauses. He isn’t perplexed at the sight of the stairs as he expected them after seeing windows on the second floor. What he is surprised to see though is the stair lift attached to the rail. The sight of it makes Luis completely pause, the abrupt stop causing Leon to look at him. Luis could see Leon’s attentive gaze from his peripheral vision, but he couldn’t make out his expression.
Leon doesn’t say anything until he realizes Luis’ sudden silence isn’t temporary. “I, uh,” he stumbles on his words, clearly not anticipating being the one to strike up a conversation. “I installed it as soon as I found out you’d be staying with me. All the bedrooms are upstairs, and I didn’t want to make your injury worse.”
As soon as he found out?
Luis swallows, still unsure of what to say, let alone how to react. He simply flexes his fingers, itching for his lighter or anything he could mess around with to keep his mind off of the feelings brewing in his chest. Sadly, Luis had no clue where his lighter had gone, his last memory of it being the sensation of cold metal touching his palm right before he sank deep into a frigid slumber. With no distraction, Luis is left to stare at the stair lift as if it had personally recounted to him all his trauma.
The sound of Leon’s voice is what draws him back to reality. “You don’t have to use it, but it’s there whenever you need it.”
Finally, Luis turns to look at Leon who’s just staring at him with the utmost earnest concern. That only makes the lump in Luis’ throat tighten. He just nods to Leon’s words, afraid that if he so even opens his mouth to say ‘thank you’ he’d burst into tears.
At the small movement of Luis’ head, Leon gives him a small smile. “Well, then,” he moves his arms with a flourish to gesture to the stairs. “After you, I insist.”
The small reference to Spain surprisingly makes Luis calm down just enough to let a small laugh escape. It was a needed reminder that what happened in Valdelobos was real and this wasn’t some sort of purgatory or hallucination. “Such a gentleman,” Luis repeats Leon’s words back to him, minus the slight exasperation and sarcasm that dripped from Leon’s tone back in Valdelobos. Luis’ tone was honest and grateful. In any other situation, Luis’ would’ve made the effort to make his voice sultry, but he didn’t have enough energy for that right now.
Luis begins his climb up the stairs with tentative steps, careful to not trip over his own feet. He can feel Leon’s presence behind him like a bodyguard just waiting for Luis to take a tumble. This thought makes Luis frown and put more effort into appearing nonchalant, like every step he takes isn’t causing a jolt of pain. He wants to prove to himself and Leon that he doesn’t need any help. He doesn’t need it nor does he deserve it.
It feels like an eternity before they finally make it up to the second story. The hallway is small and barren with only three doors. Luis steps aside, allowing Leon to take the lead again and continue his small tour. Leon points to the door at the end of the hall and says that it’s his bedroom and the door next to it is the bathroom. Finally, he turns to the door closest to the stairs.
“This will be your room,” Leon states as he opens the door.
Even after Leon moves out of the way for Luis to enter, Luis still stands in the hallway just peering into the room. With just one quick glance at the size of the bedroom, one thing is made abundantly clear to Luis.
“This is the main bedroom,” Luis bluntly notes with a hint of an accusatory tone.
Leon slowly nods. “I wanted to give you all the space you need. I don’t want you to think living with me is some sort of punishment. I want you to feel at home.”
Luis doesn’t look at Leon. He can’t. He doesn’t want to see if Leon is being genuine or just messing with him. Luis doesn’t know which one would be worse. Instead, he finally walks into the bedroom and begins to take a look around.
Behind him, Leon speaks again. “I’ll be downstairs once you’re done getting settled in. I left some things on the bed to hopefully make this room feel more like your own.”
Footsteps then begin to retreat and Luis is left to his own devices. As much as he wanted to inspect every crevice in this room, his curiosity dragged him to the bed where Leon promised there would be some gifts. The objects that greet him make him stop dead in his tracks.
On the bed are two photographs, one of him and his Grandfather when he was younger and one of him in his early 20s with Umbrella’s Europe Laboratory Six, a few rings that Luis immediately recognizes as a mix of his Grandfather’s and his own, and his lighter. Luis would rejoice at the fact he has all of these items back if it weren’t for the one item that catches his attention the most.
Laid gently on the pillow is a gold necklace with a crucifix pendant attached. Luis could recognize that necklace anywhere. It was his mother’s gold crucifix necklace she would always wear according to his Grandfather. The only reason she wasn’t lowered into the ground with it on was because right before she died, she pressed the necklace into her father’s hands, urging him to give it to her baby boy once he was old enough. So, that lingering promise that one day the necklace his Grandfather kept locked away in a box would one day be his was held tantalizing above Luis’ head like a taunt. A rather cruel taunt at that because his Grandfather died and their home went ablaze before Luis could ever inherit it. Luis believed he would never see this necklace again, yet here it was.
The thought that this necklace would’ve been gone forever if it weren’t for Leon crossed Luis’s mind. Choked up, he wanted to run downstairs and embrace Leon tightly, hoping he could pour all his gratitude into a single hug. Instead, he remained motionless, his eyes transfixed on the gold jewelry.
With slow, hesitant steps and shaky hands, Luis picks up the necklace like his most prized possession. In a way, it was. This was the only tangible piece of his mother, and he finds it harder to hold back his tears once he remembers this necklace had the fortune of being worn by Lucia. This necklace felt her touch much more than Luis ever did.
Luis walks to the vanity mirror and unclasps the one thing keeping the necklace together. For a moment, Luis hesitates, wondering if he’s even worthy of wearing his mother’s only remaining piece of jewelry. Distantly, he can imagine her voice, or rather what he imagines her voice to sound like, say, “Póntela, mi niño. Te la dejé solo para ti.”
He listens and carefully puts the necklace around his neck. His hands are still far too shaky to make closing the clasp easy, but Luis manages. Once the necklace is secure, Luis takes one final look at himself and finds he doesn’t hate the sight of his reflection as much as usual.
Because staring back at him is the mirror image of Lucia. The mirror echoes back the love he feels for his late mother, and he can’t help but feel some of that love for himself too. He hates feeling this love wash over him because he knows the only emotion he feels toward himself is pure hatred. Still, his insides feel warm and he feels the hairs at the back of his neck stand. He decides it’s okay to feel this way just for a moment. In the end, it’s not Luis loving himself but rather him loving the memory of his mother.
Eventually, he can’t bear being here alone in this room that isn’t his, so Luis makes his way downstairs where Leon promised he would be. Every step he takes down the stairs makes him curse at himself for not using the stair lift earlier, but Luis isn’t going to use the help now. He makes his way to the ground floor regardless of the pain spiking in his back. Luis beelines to the sofa overlooking the street because he knows he can’t keep standing for much longer before his legs give out.
Leon must’ve heard him as he emerged from a hallway, drying his hands with a paper towel. He smiles gently when he sees Luis. “I hope you got settled in okay. I made some dinner.”
Luis still isn’t sure how to go about interacting with Leon. The other man clearly isn’t behaving like he was back in Spain, a noticeable lack of sarcastic comments being thrown Luis’ way. He’s behaving almost tenderly, and Luis prays it isn’t fueled by pity. Luis doesn’t want to be pitied. But what does Leon want? Is he expecting Luis to throw flirtatious remarks or joke around? Luis would hate to be the bearer of bad news, but most of his behavior back in Spain was a coping mechanism to ignore how his life had gone to utter shit. Right now, life is too mundane, and Luis can’t get rid of the fear that this is just a big joke that he wasn’t let in on.
The only logical choice Luis can make is to mirror Leon’s behavior. If he acts like what he assumes is expected of him then nothing can go wrong, right?
“Gracias,” Luis says earnestly, forcing a small smile on his face as similar to Leon’s as he can make it.
Leon’s eyes roam all over Luis’ body which makes the Spaniard self-conscious. He knows he’s lost weight, a combination of months being in Valdelobos with limited resources and his hospital stay. He also knows his stubble has grown significantly as has his hair. His skin must also look a bit pallid, not entirely vibrant as it usually does. In other words, Luis knows he looks terrible, and Leon’s intense stare just intensifies those insecurities.
His gaze zeroes in on the area where Luis’ Plaga removal scar is and where now gold lays above it. “You found the gifts I left you,” Leon notes, voice filled with a mix of satisfaction and relief.
Luis nods, instinctively going to clutch his mother’s crucifix. “Yes,” Luis responds robotically. “Where did you find them?”
“Scattered all around the village,” Leon answers with a shrug.
Okay, that answers half of Luis’ questions, but there is still one massive doubt that looms over him. “How did you know those were mine?”
They both know Luis isn’t referring to the Umbrella picture or the lighter because those items were evidently Luis’. Leon looks away, seeming to be mulling over his response to Luis’ probing. He sighs and looks at Luis with such a sad expression it makes Luis feel sick.
“I read documents from Mendéz, and then I later found a diary from an older man,” Leon eventually gets out, and it makes the anxiety pooling in Luis’ gut worse. “So many clues just pointed it to you being the young boy they talked about, and I just hoped all those items I found in the old cabin were yours or your family’s.”
Luis is conflicted. He wants to beg Leon to tell him everything the entries said about him, and the other part of him doesn’t ever want to know. What if they just confirm what he already knows? That he’s a massive disappointment to those closest to him? Luis is afraid that knowing what those documents said could ruin him beyond repair, so he elects to say nothing. Luis just continues to sit there as the thought that Leon knows more about him than Luis once assumed registers. Leon knows that Luis has been broken from the start, and Luis truly doesn’t want to know what Leon thinks about him now in fear that Leon’s thoughts toward Luis would be full of nothing but pity.
He doesn’t want to be in Leon’s vicinity anymore, feeling the weight of Leon’s words burden themselves on his shoulders. Luis knows he can no longer pretend with his quips or his jests because Leon knows what’s wrong with him. He knows about Luis’ dead Grandfather, he knows about Luis’ involvement with Umbrella, he knows about Luis’ research conducted under Los Illuminados, and Luis is sure that Leon must know about his deal with Ada if Leon had been in his lab on the island where all his most damning information was laid out in the open. After all of that, Leon still invited Luis into his home and made him dinner. Luis craves more of Leon’s hospitality, but he knows this is not the ending he deserves.
“You should’ve left me.”
The air suddenly became very tense. Luis didn’t have to look up to know that Leon was still looking at him intensely. Unlike most times when he would find himself reveling in Leon’s gaze, Luis now felt shy, like he wanted to collapse in on himself. He wanted to just run away and hide like he’s so fond of doing, but his stupid legs won’t give him that escape.
Finally, Leon managed to speak and break the silence. “What?”
Luis foolishly wished Leon had said anything else other than that one-word question because now he’d have to explain. He knew as soon as he began explaining, that he’d sound ungrateful to Leon’s hospitality when that wasn’t the issue at all. Leon was never the problem; Luis was. Luis was the parasite now invading Leon’s home, Leon’s life. Even after helping Leon and Ashley remove those damn parasites with his machine, Luis had now taken the place of La Plaga in Leon’s sternum.
Instinctively, Luis went to mess around with his lighter only to remember the piece of metal was still upstairs on the bed. At this point, Luis’ hands were trembling. He was unsure if this was because of his nerves or hand tremors. The knot in his throat and tears welling up were definitely unrelated to his injury, however. Without his lighter, Luis opted to duck his head down in order to avoid eye contact with Leon when he spoke again.
“You should’ve left me back there in the mines,” Luis clarified, this time with a shaky voice. “I’m not worth all this trouble. I’m only dragging you down. I’m only hurting you. ”
Once again, Luis was greeted with silence. Then, Leon suddenly began walking to where Luis was sitting. Without thinking, Luis flinched and tried making himself even smaller. This didn’t go unnoticed by Leon who stopped in his tracks. Realizing his mistake, Luis began apologizing profusely, with the repetition of the phrases ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘It’s not your fault.’
By now, tears were embarrassingly streaming down Luis’ face. He made an attempt to cover his face with his hands but that only caused him to start sobbing even harder. Why was he even crying? He was nothing but a coward, hiding even now instead of facing Leon like a mature person. God, Leon would surely be tired of him by now. By tomorrow morning, Luis would be hauled out of Leon’s home by the government, and Leon could finally be free of Luis. Maybe that was the best outcome.
Past the sound of Luis’ own cries, he managed to hear a familiar voice near him, much closer than Leon was previously.
“Can I hug you?”
Luis removed his hands from his face to stare at Leon. Crystal blue eyes stared back, roaming Luis’ face as if they were trying to memorize every feature.
Selfishly, Luis nodded, and he was quickly scooped up into Leon’s arms. Despite being slightly taller than the blond, Luis still felt so small in his arms as he sobbed for reasons he wasn’t even sure of. He gripped Leon’s shirt tightly, willing him to never let him go. Luis was being so selfish, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to hold himself together the moment Leon let go. After a few moments of Leon rubbing Luis’ back comfortingly and holding him tight, Luis realized he never wanted Leon to let go. It was a complete, utterly selfish thought, but it was the only thing Luis could think about as Leon offered him his embrace so graciously.
In the midst of Luis’ sobs and shaky breaths, Leon’s voice cut through. “You’re safe now. I promise.”