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Leon brushed his blond hair out of his face. The sweat gluing it to his forehead was getting extremely annoying. It was hard enough to focus with his temperature rising like this. It had to be the damn parasite, he thought, but he tried to push it out of his mind. Ashley was recaptured, and he was starting to lose faith. He still had to find her, stop Saddler, and get Ashley home.
But he was hot, and he was tired, and he just wanted to stop and rest, despite all of the danger. He could have been convinced to take a nap in a stack of hay. At this point, any opportunity to get some rest would be taken swiftly.
He couldn’t, though. Not before he got Ashley home. This was all about her, and there was no way that anyone was going to be able to relax until she was at home, cozied up in the White House, and probably enrolled in a good amount of therapy. So he kept pushing.
Luis’s recent message was the only thing keeping him going, really. This suppressant had better be good, he thought. He felt like he was clawing his way towards the elevator.
The vision made him feel sicker. Every time the cultists referred to Ashley as their little lamb, he felt like throwing up. She was too kind to be wrapped up in all of this. She didn’t deserve it. She was only here because of her father— and that wasn’t to say that this was his fault, of course, but there’s always a target on your back when you’re the president’s daughter. Even seeing Major Krauser’s face again was enough to make his stomach turn.
He was kneeling still, his head between his hands, when the elevator arrived.
Luis smiled and shook the suppressant— or, at least, what must have been the suppressant. “I’ll make it cheap for you.”
Leon wasn’t quite in the mood for his jokes. He staggered forward, nearly incoherent when he asked for help, and proceeded to fall to the ground. His brain felt like it was cooking in his skull. Luis nodded and gently took Leon’s hand, quickly maneuvering his head off of the ground and onto his lap. Impossibly, Leon felt cooler. The suppressant was administered, and he was immensely glad that Luis still hadn’t left his side. If he was more conscious, he would have been embarrassed at their close proximity. He felt like a dog lying at the side of its beloved owner. Still, he curled closer, almost like he was seeking warmth instead of trying to relieve himself of it. Luis didn’t mention it, and only encouraged him to make contact with him.
“Sorry,” he slurred. Every word sapped his energy.
“Don’t sweat it,” Luis replied, busying himself with running his fingers through Leon’s hair. The silver touching his scalp aided his efforts to cool down.
“I’m filthy.”
Luis shrugged off the protest. “I’ve seen much worse than mud and blood, compañero. It’ll take more than that to scare me off.”
“You’re strange,” Leon sighed.
“Just offering some help. I know the plagas makes you run hot, but being with someone you care about can make the fever much more bearable. Besides, you should feel much better soon.”
“Yeah. Thanks.” Then, still struggling, he asked “is there enough for Ashley?”
“For Ashley? Oh, yes, of course. Couldn’t leave her out to dry.” He shook the container again. “When we find her, this is sure to help.”
They fell into a comfortable silence, but eventually Leon caved and spoke. “Luis?”
“Yes, Sancho?”
Leon flushed, but he couldn’t blame it on the fever if he wanted to. “Do you think you can just hold my hand again? It helped more.”
Luis blinked. “Of course.” His hand migrated to Leon’s left, grasping his own, and tracing little patterns into the back of his hand. It felt strangely intimate, but then again, how else was it supposed to feel? He was sharing so much of Luis’s space that he felt like he was invading it.
“Thank you.” It was sincere.
“Of course. We’ll stay like this for as long as you need.”
Leon couldn’t lie, he was becoming more and more tired as the time wore on. He was used to long nights, but this was just too much. It was, he realized again, the parasite that was making him feel this way. He was considering dozing off when he remembered that Ashley might not have much time left. “Shit, Ashley! I have to get back to her!”
Luis tutted. “I don’t think you’re well enough yet. Just rest. You can’t go around saving the world if you’re this weak. Let your body adjust. Then we can get back to it in no time. What do you say?”
“Guess I can’t argue with that.” Still, guilt settled in the bottom of his stomach. He needed to pull it together, for her sake.
“Leon, I can hear you thinking. Just rest.”
“I can’t sleep. Not while she’s out there, and those freaks are doing god knows what to her. She needs me.”
“I suppose she does,” he conceded, “but like I said, you’ll hardly be any help in this state. Just breathe. If you need sleep, then sleep. I’ll be here with you. I won’t let anything happen to you, and I’ll wake you when you’re ready to go.”
Leon considered it. A nap sounded incredibly appealing at the moment, and it was getting harder and harder to deny how bad he needed one with his eyes drooping closed every few seconds. He would have been concerned at his body’s willingness to slip away if he hadn’t just been given suppressant. Finally, he gave in.
“Fine,” he said, “but promise me I won’t be asleep longer than twenty minutes.”
“You might need more than twenty minutes, querido,” Luis stressed. The term of endearment was lost on him, so near to sleep.
“Please.”
He pursed his lips. “Okay. I can do that.”
“And don’t let go,” Leon added, uncertain but knowing exactly what he needed.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Luis joked. “Now, sleep.”