Chapter Text
"Carlos, can you do me a huge favour?" Those words hadn't been what Carlos had expected when he'd answered his phone and said hello.
Carlos knew that when Jill sucked up her pride and asked for help, it was something urgent. "Sure, Supercop. What's up?"
Jill didn't hesitate to respond, and that was what worried Carlos; when Jill didn't hesitate, even she was desperate. "Can you go check on Chris's boyfriend? Chris is overseas for work, and Leon isn't answering his phone for anyone."
"Leon?" The name was vaguely familiar in Carlos's mind; he was sure he'd heard Jill or Chris talk about him before. "That's the alcoholic dude, right?"
"Yeah, that's him."
Carlos sifted through the belongings on his desk. "I don't know if that's a good idea, Jill; I never met the guy and if he's as paranoid as you say he is, he's probably gonna shank me before I can even knock on his door."
Jill's tone went taut for a moment. "Carlos… Can you, please? Chris has said he's worried he's going to kill himself, and now… At least do it for Chris's peace of mind. Even if he just yells at you through the door to fuck off."
Carlos chewed at his lip. He still wasn't keen on the idea - the door of a top government agent with levels of PTSD he could only imagine didn't sound like the safest door a stranger could knock on.
But if Jill was asking…
"Alright, Supercop." Carlos tossed his pen aside and stood up. He knew he really should have been finishing his work, but Jill was out of town, and if she was asking him, they must be desperate. "But I expect a home-cooked meal if he tries to gut me."
"Just let him know that Chris and Jill sent you, and he should keep the stabbing to a minimal level." Jill let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you so much, Carlos; I owe you big time. I'll text you his address and let Chris know; he was going off his head with worry."
Carlos waved a dismissive hand, even though he knew Jill couldn't see it. "Don't worry about it; it'll make us even, right?"
Carlos farewelled Jill and snatched his car keys from his desk. He wasn't sure about what was being asked of him; from what Jill had told him of Leon, Leon had some major PTSD that even his boyfriend had been on the receiving end of; sure it would be better for Chris to rush home, right? At least then there probably wasn't a danger of being shanked.
But if Jill had asked him to help, he would; he was sure that there would be nothing he wouldn't do for her if she were to ask him.
Carlos made his way to the apartment complex Jill had texted him. He parked in the visitor parking and looked around, trying to find the right staircase to ascend that would take him to Leon.
Eventually, he found where he was going, not without the help of a passing resident who'd pointed him in the right direction. Carlos pretended he hadn't noticed the strange look he'd received when he'd mentioned Leon's name; surely Leon didn't have a reputation here of all places…?
Christ, what the hell had the guy gone through?
He climbed the stairwell and let himself into the corridor, wondering which door was Leon's. He double-checked the apartment number before he counted doors, deducing that it should be one of the ones on his left.
Sure enough, he matched the door number with the one Jill had texted him.
"Leon?" Carlos rapped at the door, prepared for anything. "Leon, you in there?"
No one came to answer the door, but Carlos could hear the familiar clinking of bottles against bottles. He looked at his wristwatch; it was only ten in the morning; was he seriously in there drinking already?
"Leon?" Carlos tried again. "Leon, Jill sent me to check on you. If you don't open the door, I'm going to break it down."
"Break my fucking door and I'll break you," came the slurred response from somewhere inside.
"Then you'd better open it 'cause I'm not really the kind of guy you'd want to go toe-to-toe with." Carlos hoped it didn't come across as threatening.
Leon gave a bitter laugh. "Yeah. Neither am I."
"So I've heard." Carlos knocked again. "Would you rather I call Jill and tell her you won't let me in?"
Leon was silent for several moments before Carlos heard another clink of a bottle, and unsteady footsteps approach the door. A number of deadbolts slid open before the door handle twisted, and Carlos was face-to-face with someone who looked like he'd been drinking nothing but alcohol for a year straight.
"Jesus, Leon." Carlos felt his stomach churn at the bags beneath his eyes, so dark, it looked like someone had given him two black eyes. "How much you been drinkin'?"
Leon waved a dismissive hand. He ignored the question and instead murmured, "I don't want you to call Jill; Jill is scary."
Carlos chuckled. "Yeah. Yeah, tell me about it. You doin' alright?"
"Fuckin' fantastic," Leon slurred. Carlos wasn't oblivious to his sarcasm. "Chris is gone even longer now apparently; asshole knows I hate it when he's gone too long."
Carlos stepped with trepidation into the apartment. It reeked of something he couldn't decipher, and when he looked past Leon's slim frame, he could see that the floor seemed to have been replaced with an ocean of whiskey bottles; how Leon had made it to the door without slicing his feet open would forever be a mystery to him.
"I take it you've been drinking in his absence." Carlos was gentle about it, but Leon still sneered and tensed his body.
"What 'bout it?" Leon was on the defensive now, and Carlos was prepared for the inevitable shanking.
"Well…" Carlos dragged his hand through his shaggy hair as he tried to find the right words. "It's… People are worried, y'know?"
"They're always worried." Leon turned around and waded his way through the bottles to return to the sofa. Carlos winced as he realised even the sofa was littered in empty glasses. "Just 'cause I tried ta – it doesn't matter. What the hell do you want, anyway? Who the fuck are you?"
"Right." It made sense Leon was wary; he didn't know who he was, and Carlos had completely forgotten to introduce himself. "I'm Carlos. You might have heard Jill talk about me before."
"Oh. Carlos." Leon snorted. Carlos tried not to take it to heart; the guy was probably drunk out of his mind. "Yeah, she talks about you."
"Only good things, I hope," Carlos joked.
Leon shrugged. He picked up the half-empty bottle he must have been working his way through when Carlos had knocked. "Why would she have anything bad to say about Carlos? You know you remind me of Chris if he was wearing a mop on his head."
Carlos laughed heartily. "That so?"
"Yep. S'what I said." Leon raised the bottle to his lips. Carlos couldn't help but worry as every drop disappeared down the back of his throat, and the bottle met its demise somewhere in the sea of glass.
Carlos looked around. The apartment was as unkempt as Leon appeared, and it smelled like something had died in there. He wondered if it was always like this, or if it were only the times Chris was away.
From just how oily Leon's hair was, and the overgrown stubble on his face, Chris had probably been gone at least a couple weeks.
"So, uh…" Carlos tried not to think about how dirty Leon's clothes looked, "…you want some help cleanin' up?"
Leon reached beside the sofa for an unopened bottle. He shrugged. "Nah. I'll clean up when Chris gets home."
"Won't he be mad if he comes back to this?"
"He's always mad at me for somethin'." Leon twisted the cap and tossed it somewhere behind him. "Especially lately. 'Least it leads to some nice angry sex."
Carlos didn't know how to respond. "Should I be telling Jill about this?"
"No."
"Why not?"
Leon gulped down the whiskey in one sitting. He pulled it away and wiped at his lips before he muttered, "Because if she knows, she'll come to yell at me and clean the place up."
"What if we forego the telling Jill part, and I just pick up some of these bottles?" Carlos hoped he wasn't overstepping boundaries. "It's like a minefield – and man, I gotta tell you, I've already walked on enough of those to last me a lifetime."
Leon scowled at the wall. He'd turned away slightly, so Carlos couldn't see his expression. He looked stubborn, almost like a child trying to decide what punishment was worse.
And finally, Leon turned his back entirely to Carlos and muttered, "There's trash bags under the kitchen sink. Good luck getting everything into a bin."
Carlos got to his feet to navigate the bottles once more. Well, at least it was a start, right?