Work Text:
Winded, Diego reaches for his race helmet. It must have fallen off his head during the fall. With a sigh, he stands with his aching legs. “Shit,” Resting his hands on his knees. He scanned the dirt road. Vision failing him, he groaned, slowly observing his environment deeper. His helmet could have only gone so far.
A breeze blowing on the top of his head has become a foreign feeling to him by now. It’s unusual but pleasant after his hard collapse. Silver Bullet bucked him off his horse, right onto a pile of rocks, sticks, and whatever else was in that cluster of nature. Bruises, cuts and everything else scattered onto Diego’s body. In places he couldn’t even reach.
And now, Diego was standing alone in the wilderness. Silver Bullet had run somewhere between a group of trees. Continuing to search for his helmet, he steadied himself before walking. A blurry blue dot with gold lettering appeared in the distance from a glance to the right. That must be it! Diego rushed to his helmet, stumbling over his own feet.
Diego picked his helmet off of a group of scattered leaves. He wiped any dirt off the top with his mud covered glove. Not caring that he only made his helmet dirtier, he placed it on his head.
Inhaling and smelling the air around him made Diego form an idea. If he sniffed around, he could find another lifeform. Hopefully his horse. With a whistle and another deep inhale of the cool air, he called for his horse. “Silver Bullet!” His voice echoed in the silent forest.
Birds, deer and squirrels were tracked by his senses, but no horse. A burning cramp attacked Diego’s side. He should not have yelled that loud. “Dammit,” He kicked a stone but not with too much force. It was more of a fidgety kick rather than an angry one. A gesture of discouragement, even. Which is not something Diego would let any other racer witness.
A log of a dead oak tree lay beside Diego. Placing himself on a patch of moss, he sat down. He recited the events of the day in his head. Diego’s mind wandered. “Another racer must go through this route,” He rested his hand on his chin. Contemplating whether or not he should camp for the night and rest. It was only evening. Not even 6 o’clock yet.
Digging into his pocket, he pulled out a crumpled, small map. He spread it onto the ground, looking to see where he was located. With no signs for miles, it was hard to tell. Walking was difficult and Diego was beginning to get thirsty. He folded the map back up, placing it beside himself.
‘I wonder where Hot Pants is,’ Diego thought to himself. She had split up with him for the day in search of food. This would be a perfect place to hunt because Diego managed to sense every animal in the habitat. Besides his own horse, of course. With a more dramatic sigh than he himself was expecting, Diego stretched his arms. Hopefully Hot Pants would come down this trail. However, she was definitely fair ahead by now.
No way of getting back to camp, Diego figured he might as well sleep here tonight. It would be cold, it would be dangerous, it would even be lonely. But that would not stop Diego Brando. Would it? No, of course not! The man had endured much worse in his life.
Time to settle down for a bit. A nap would be a good pass time until his limbs uncramped a bit. Behind the log, he crafted a makeshift bed out of leaves, moss and some twigs for support. It looked as if a toddler made it in their backyard. He shrugged it off after viewing it a little closer. Even getting down onto the ground brought excruciating pain to his back. He leaned down, basically falling onto his outdoor bed. It was still so early. Disappointed with the outcome of the day, he slid his beloved helmet onto his face. Partially out of shame but also to block the blazing sunset in the corner of his eye.
Daydreaming about all of the nice snacks he could buy and all of the loyal fans he could meet in the next city over, he felt himself finally dozing off. His arm raised above the log. He adjusted the hat covering his tired expression.
“I know that sleeve,” A voice exclaimed, followed by the sound of two horses galloping. Diego quickly pushed himself off his back. The familiar teammate he grew to be able to tolerate chuckled at the sight of him springing up. Helmet still over his face, he lowered it, shifting his head to the direction of the sound. Overwhelmed by his sense of smell once again being strong, he grunted. “Not happy to see me?”
“It’s not that, Hot Pants.” Diego shook his head, wobbling as he sadly attempted to stand. “I suppose I’m just a bit hurt.”
“A bit hurt from what?”
“Injury…” Eyes focusing, Diego saw Hot Pants riding her own horse with Silver Bullet trailing behind. “How the hell did you find my horse anyways?”
“It was wandering about back there.” She pointed her thumb behind her. “You didn’t smell it?”
“Ah, no, I did not. Hat was over my face.”
“Usually that’s not where hats go.”
“Sarcastic today, are we?”
“Perhaps.” Hot Pants guided her horse to walk towards Diego. He stared, unpleased. “Get on.”
Diego stepped over the log, walking into the dirt road. He attempted to climb onto his horse. Holding the rein, he placed his foot into the stirrup. Still dazed, a sense of dizziness washed over him. His palm pressed the back of his head with a groan. Applying pressure to it left a newly discovered soreness on his head’s nerves.
Hot Pants rolled her eyes, yet couldn’t help but smirk at his pettiness. Diego clenched his jaw, getting frustrated with this sudden decrease in his strength. He pushed his boot on the stirrup. As he lifted himself onto the horse, the imbalance he felt in his body began to rise. Hot Pants watched in a sadistic amusement. She found it oddly entertaining to see her cocky teammate not able to keep himself stabilized.
“I told you to get on my horse,” Hot Pants jerked her head to the side. A gesture for Diego to follow her instructions. “I can tell you took a hard hit, so quit trying to tough it out.”
Ignoring her efforts, Diego directed his horse to stand beside Hot Pants’. “Let’s get moving,” Mentally having to remind himself not to glance over at her. “It’ll get late soon.”
A firm hand grasped Diego’s arm. He scoffed, struggling against Hot Pants’ grip. “C’mon,” She yanked on his arm.
“What the hell?” Diego shouted in response. Now his two arms being held in both of Hot Pants’ hands. Diego was being lifted off his horse. Instinctively, he continued to resist. “Put me down, Hot Pants!” Struggling and tossing himself around only made the pain in his lower back grow as his muscles stiffened.
“Shut up,” In one quick swing, Hot Pants placed Diego on the back of her horse. “Looks like this injury hurt your ego more than it hurt your body, Dio.” Facing him from behind, she gave a fleeting grin before whipping her head back around. Gets Up began to take off after she kicked her spurs into its sides. Shocked by the take off with no warning, Diego kicked his leg across the horse. He held his legs against the horse tightly, using all his strength to lean forward. Pain ripped through his back and shot down his already tense legs. He let out an audible yelp.
“Wait!” Diego shouted while remaining in the same position. He began to pant, “I don’t know what your intentions are. But I suppose I'll let you bring me to a place to camp.”
With the horse slowing down, Diego let his legs loosen slightly. A sigh of relief exited him as the sound of Silver Bullet galloping behind followed. “You’re going to have to hold onto me,” Hot Pants reminded him of a truth he did not want to hear.
Any second now Diego was about to fall off this horse. There was no point in resisting anymore. He might as well hold onto Hot Pants until the trip was over. At the speed they were going, another injury could likely occur. A jockey being the passenger to another person on horseback? People would definitely be quick to judge. Especially if he was receiving help from a woman. He assured himself this was only going to be one time. Only one time that Diego had to rely on another person to escort him on a horse.
There have been very few times where Diego had been the one installing the idea upon himself that he was pathetic. This was one of those rare times. However, letting his narcissism subside for a few minutes wouldn’t be his demise. Maybe not yet, at least. Looking down in shame only he was experiencing, he reached his arms around Hot Pants.
“Alright, let’s go.” Hot Pants clicked her tongue to signal the horse to begin trotting. “So, I found this lake. We can camp up there tonight. It’s to the right of this path once we get about a mile ahead. I don’t believe any other racers have decided to reside there.”
Diego nodded, “I can’t wait to bathe.” He let the cool air penetrate his lungs as they began moving faster. Pineneedles and fresh berries were an aroma that latched onto his senses, distracting him from his previous anxiety. Even if for a moment.
“I can’t wait for you to bathe, too,” Hot Pants searched for any signs around her.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You smell like campfire, sweat and blood.”
“How do you think I feel all the time? Especially with my enhanced senses.”
“My hygiene is not horrible considering I’ve been surrounded by mostly nature for months.”
“That is true.” Diego’s words trailed off. A glimpse of a wooden pole stuck out to the dirt in the near distance. “Must be a road marking. We aren’t extremely far from civilization.”
“Across the bridge,” Hot Pants pointed to the right of the sign. They turned into the next road over the bridge. “Only a few more meters, and we’ll be there.”
As the ride went on, Diego began to ponder. Mostly about food again and warmth. He swallowed, realizing how dry his mouth was. Felt as if he just got done shoveling a pile of sand into his mouth. “HP, can I get a sip of your water?” He hovered his hand above her canteen.
All she did was hum and nod. Focus overtook her as she scanned the area. Diego unlatched the canteen, taking a large swig. Finally hydrated at last, his head already felt like it was beginning to clear. He placed the container back into its holder. Wiping away any water on his chin with his sleeve.
Smelling the musk of a lake up ahead, Diego extended his arm in front of Hot Pants. “Take a slight left, I smell water,” He placed his forearm back onto her stomach after sending her the message. This caught them both off guard but they decided to not mention it.
Another thin trail had led them to the lake. Hitching her horse against a tree, Hot Pants departed from her saddle. Picking up an exhausted looking Diego off her horse, Hot Pants placed him down as he sneered at the sudden contact. “Follow me,” She untied Diego’s sleeping bag from his horse. She placed it into his arms along with a bar of soap. He stayed behind her obediently.
“Y’know, you’re almost as strong as me,” Diego commented as they walked closer to the lake. They stopped about five meters away from the water.
“Who said I wasn’t stronger,” She chuckled, tossing a towel over his shoulder. “Go take a bath,” She walked back to her horse.
Diego placed his sleeping bag against a dead log laying on the grass. He approached the water, feeling a cramp in his swelling foot. Crouching down, he folded the towel given to him before setting it near the edge of the lake. He found a tall rock to hide himself behind to undress himself and hang his clothes on.
Sitting in a semi-shallow part of the lake, Diego sat slouched over. He cupped sand into his hands, letting it sift through his fingers. He was sitting on a patch of clay because sitting on sand while naked was not comfortable. This water was clean. Practically untouched by humans. The only bacteria that could be living there would be from the natural habitat. Diego rinsed off his hands before splashing water into his hair and onto his face. “I want coffee,” He said to himself before shaking the water off his head. A crab crossed along the lake’s edge in the corner of his eye.
After drying off and getting dressed again, Diego walked to his campsite for the night. A fire blazed with a small grill hanging above. Nailing a tent into the ground, Hot Pants turned to Diego, “Have a seat.” He obliged, placing himself onto a log with a cloth on top of it. She finished with the last corner.
On a small table was a bottle of carbolic acid, a cloth and medicine. Gauze hung from Hot Pant’s belt. “I’m no doctor, but I will try to help treat your wounds,” Sitting on her knees in front of Diego, she reached for his chin. She tilted his head to get a better look at his cheek. There was a gash that still had broken skin with blood trickling out. Her thumb pressed against the end of his cut. It stung when in contact with her finger. He frowned watching as Hot Pants began to put the carbolic acid onto the cloth.
Diego closed his eyes as the damp rag inched closer to his skin. “This will only hurt for a second,” She gently patted the wound. A burning sensation spread all throughout his cheek. He reached for Hot Pant’s hand, gripping it for comfort. She did not pull away nor express the desire to. Engrossed in treating Diego, she clenched his hand back.
Grief washed over the both of them. Reminding them of past events, similar to this moment they shared.
Diego reminisced about the times when he would get hurt while adventuring around his childhood farm. How he would fall, scuff up his elbows. The workers scolding him, calling him a nuisance of a child. He would rush back to the barn holding whatever limb was bleeding this time. His mother was always there to heal him. Make sure that any cuts, bruises or scrapes were taken care of with her best effort. The bandages his mother would wrap him in were always snug. Appearing to fix his injuries even quicker than expected. Before sending him off to bed, Diego’s mother would always kiss his bandaged wounds. The pain always softened in the hands of her treatment, no matter what.
Hot Pants watched the red stain of blood soak through the material she held. She frowned with a sense of sorrow. Wandering about the country, her and her brother would often get minor injuries. She would always make sure to treat them when they got back home. Even if it was wiping away any fluid from a tear on his skin with a wet cloth before tying gauze around him. He would always show a shining gratitude after being cared for. Hot Pants would certainly never forget the little gifts he would bring to her the next day as a thank you message. Even if it was a tiny worm he dug up or a flower crown, Hot Pants kept everything safe. Joy filled her soul knowing that her brother could rely on her for help.
Now the two sat together. Reliving what they experienced in their childhoods. Only this time, it was with their teammate in a race across the United States in an attempt to recover the corpse of Jesus Christ.
No more stinging. Hot Pants pulled her hand away from Diego’s face. She placed the cloth onto the table. There was blistering developing on her hands from the chemicals. She got up, still holding onto Diego’s hand. He lifted himself off the ground. They walked over to the lake to clean off the remnants of the acid on their skin. They took a seat in a patch of grass where the water was next to them at a lower level than them.
Hot Pants let go of Diego’s hand, cupping her hands into the water. She shook them into the lake. The coolness of the water relieved some of the swelling. Diego watched as her wrists sunk into her own reflection. Her hair dropped to the sides of her face. A few moments passed. Slowly raising her hands above the surface, she gave them a hard shake. A little bit of water splashed onto Diego. He didn’t mind, gently wiping it away.
“Stay still,” Hot Pants pulled a cotton ball from her pocket. She grabbed the bottom of Diego’s chin, tilting his head upwards. He smiled to himself. Even if he would never admit it and even if he himself was not exactly aware, he was joyous to be in the hands of somebody taking care of him. Hot Pants took pleasure in being able to care for her teammate. It had been years since she felt that someone held this very specific feeling of reliance on her.
Vatican City relied on her. The Pope relied on her. The church as a whole, they all relied on her. However, it was all impersonal. It was a reliance that was formed because her duty as a nun called for it. The capabilities that Hot Pants held were much greater than the other workers of the Vatican. Knowing the landscape of the great American terrain was something only she knew amongst the rest.
Right now, however, geography was not what needed to be recognized. Treating another person required awareness of emotions instead. Gratefulness presented itself in Hot Pants when she remembered she was the only one who could be helping Diego. She told herself that she only cared about Diego because he was useful. A tool to assist her in getting her closer to the corpse. There was something special in their teamwork.
What they want is the corpse. What they need is each other. Aware of this fact, they stuck close by one another, working intuitively and precisely in battles. Both of them were under the impression that they now had a subordinate. Equals were what they truly were amid each other.
Compliance flew over Hot Pants’ head like an eagle soaring above a cliff. The only difference was that the eagle is a creature of freedom. Oftentimes she wished she could reach out and tug the eagle from the sky. Examine it. Such independent creatures compared to her. A woman who had to live her life flying under the wings of other birds.
“Dio,” Hot Pants caught his attention, a wad of cotton pressed against his cheek.
“Yes?” Diego responded.
“What animal do you think suits me?”
“Maybe a swan.”
“Why is that?”
“Aren’t you a nun? Swans have a certain purity to them, I suppose. You think I’m calling you beautiful, or something?”
Hot Pants chuckled. “No, no. Intrigued was all I was.” She paused. “Can swans fly?”
“I believe so,” Diego nodded.
Flying could bring about freedom. This answer of Diego’s told her everything she needed to know. Diego saw her opportunity to prospore. A small task like healing a wounded colleague was enough to achieve this fortune. In the midst of being constantly relied on, what mattered to her was that one of those many people was an honorable man such as Diego. This meant more to her than any of her other tasks because there was an emotional, human connection behind it.
Hot Pants dipped the cotton into the lake. She dabbed it onto Diego’s face to absorb the chemicals off his skin. She wrapped it into a leaf and threw it into a bush. Diego sat there, observing her persistent moves. There was an utmost efficiency to the way she worked. Watching her do simple tasks made Diego think he was learning a complex skill.
They rose from the ground. “Let’s go,” Hot Pants’ expression grew stern again. Not exactly a rude stern. More of a professional stern. Even if this setting did not call for that attitude. Diego smiled when he noticed her sudden shift in personality. As if she slightly regretted her previous sentimentality.
“Back to all serious, huh? Y’know it’s a little cute,” Diego pointed to her while she wasn't even facing him. He reached out to poke her.
This wasn’t provoking her nor really meant to. Hot Pants appreciated his occasional annoying gestures. Joking and even flirting helped remind her she was somebody who was allowed to interact with other humans. Well, human or dinosaur.
Hot Pants decided to tease back. “You’re the one who got all hurt but I think I’m starting to feel a pain too.”
“Oh… Why is that?”
“Because you’re a pain in my ass.”
They both snickered, continuing to walk close by each other back to their camp. Diego knew she enjoyed the jabs he threw at her. He liked it even more when he received one back. He crossed his hands around her forearm, resting his chin on her shoulder. With a noticeable limp in his walk from the hit he took from a hard rock to the ankle.
“I’ll wrap up your ankle and foot too,” Hot Pants assured Diego. The light of the fire now illuminating their faces as they stared blankly into the light.
Resting in the warm glow of the crackling flames now. Diego had his legs crossed, his pant leg rolled up to keep his bandages intact properly. He sat beside Hot Pants on a blanket. She was drinking tea mixed with honey. Diego already had three cups, having to sneak two of them because of Hot Pants’ limitation she set on him. He ended up burning his mouth trying to chug them before she would notice. If Diego could barely disguise himself as a government agent guard, did he really think he could sneak cups of tea?
“Dio.” Hot Pants turned her head to get a glimpse of him.
“Hm?” He hummed, looking back.
“You’re paying for the next batch of tea.”
“You caught me! Well, you are pretty observant. You know me too good already.”
“I think it’s: ‘You know me too well already.’”
“I already used the word ‘well’ so I didnt wanna use them right next to each other in their sentences.”
“You really are strange, huh?” Hot Pants placed her fingers around the rim of Diego’s cup. She lifted it from his hand, placing it down. “I think all this sugar is keeping you up longer than I can handle.”
Diego stared at her with a vacant expression. Now realizing that he was beginning to feel tired. Was it a sugar crash? No, the day was generally exhausting. Next to him was Hot Pants leaning towards him, holding herself up with her palm. “I thought that was a myth,” He frowned.
“Could be,” Hot Pants shrugged. She lowered herself onto her side. Wind rustled branches in the distance. She brought her senses to focus on them. Diego rested his arm on his knee, continuing to watch the fire. He reached for his empty cup. Realizing soon after that there was no more liquid inside. “How are you feeling?”
“Fine,” Diego mumbled back. Holding onto his bruising leg. There was a spot on the bandages that was cold. It must have been his dried blood. Gross to think about, but he was always bleeding in these circumstances, so he didn’t let it phase him. “Really patched me up good. Maybe you were cut out to be a nurse for the race instead of a contestant, hm?” He joked.
Hot Pants didn’t find his statement amusing. Catching a glimpse at her expression, Diego trailed his eyes away as if nothing was said. She decided to ignore his belittling comment. He did not see it as undermining her abilities. Nurses are very hardworking and require skills with understanding medicine and humans. If anything that was a compliment! Whatever, Hot Pants was probably cranky from the tiresome activities of the day.
Diego fell backwards onto his back. He stretched his arms above his head, trying to crack the joins near his spine. Hot Pants watched his eyelids squeeze together. His mouth formed into a thin line, followed shortly by a yawn. He brought his arms to his sides, keeping his face to the dark atmosphere of the night sky. Not knowing a single thing about constellations, he pointed up.
Bringing her attention to the stars, Hot Pants stared above her as well. “The Romans used to study astrology very heavily.” She informed him.
“They studied what now?” Diego turned his head to her, eyebrow raised.
“I don’t quite understand it myself. It’s when people believe that figures formed by stars decide their fate. Or something like that…”
“Sounds ridiculous.”
“It’s like religion, almost. Except it’s more spiritual. Deals more with the psyche rather than faith. In the practice, faith writes itself rather than you chasing it.” Stress suddenly grew on Hot Pants’ expression.
“Pfft,” Diego crossed his arms. “Who’s to say religion isn’t just as ridiculous? The only higher being we can live to impress is ourselves. We are much more aware of our own ‘sins’ compared to some magical being in the sky.” His fingertips dug into his chest.
This was a concept that Hot Pants already knew. But did she truly understand that idea? Diego was bringing up a good point. Maybe the only being who could truly forgive her sins was herself. “Why do you think I’m after the corpse?” She scowled under her breath.
“I dunno.” Diego let his helmet cover his eyes. “Me, personally, I want the cash reward. And the fame.” He laughed. Back to his regular self. Hot Pants was hoping for a late night philosophical conversation. She shook her head but subconsciously she felt little judgment towards Diego.
“Whatever you say,” Hot Pants pulled a blanket at the end of their feet up to their shoulders. She placed the cover over Diego. A soft smile appeared on his face, his eyes remaining hidden.
“Wouldn’t it be funny if that astrology shit became popular again in a hundred years.”
“Go to sleep.”
Hot Pants moved Diego’s cup away, placing it on a tree stump beside their bed. For a moment, she silently observed him dozing off to sleep. Peacefully, Diego rested his hand on his helmet, letting his chest rise and fall with his steady breathing. This was the most calm she had ever seen him. Either they were in battle or Diego was causing trouble in some way.
Complimenting each other with their personalities and abilities was a prominent trait in their relationship. Even though it was unspoken, there was much appreciation for this fact from both parties. This was obvious during fights and conversations, knowing was enough.
Hot Pants laid back on her side, continuing to watch Diego. She could tell he wasn’t asleep yet. He was breathing too fast. If he was asleep, he would breathe slower. Begging in her head that he would be taken away by a dream soon.
Suddenly, a strong arm pulled Hot Pants closer by her upper back. “If you wanna cuddle so badly, just ask.”
“That wasn’t it,” Hot Pants felt herself blushing. This was new. Mentally, she scolded herself for losing focus. Not that there was anything to even focus on in the first place. Romantic interaction in general felt like a roadblock to her. Especially in a mission this important. “However, I don’t mind.”
“Finally letting down your walls a little?”
“Maybe so.”
“That’s not a definitive answer…” A long pause. Hot Pants had no response to Diego’s inquiry. She was unsure as to why she was acting this way, herself. “Okay, well, I want an answer to this. Can I wear your hat?”
“What? That would be so uncomfortable to sleep in.”
“I know but it looks so fuzzy.”
“Go ahead. It’s right above this bed, on my side.” Diego swapped his helmet for Hot Pants’ hat. She was correct. The metal plating was not the best pillow. His neck went stiff after a minute or two. Adjusting his shoulders with a sigh, he brought Hot Pants into his annoyed squirming. “I told you,” She grabbed her hat, practically forcing it off his head.
The back of his head hit a twig on the way back down. “Ow,” He blurted out.
“Shut up,” Hot Pants wrapped an arm around Diego’s torso. She rested her head onto his chest. Partially in an attempt to make him silent but also to listen to his heart. Not wanting to hear his voice anymore didn’t mean she didn’t wish to hear him at all. Her hair poked at his chin, making him itchy. Not wanting to disturb Hot Pants any longer, he ignored the urge to scratch his face. “I love you.”
Hesitating to give a response, Diego lifted his hand before dropping it back down to his side. This hesitation was not caused by a lack of reciprocation of feelings. No, he was just listening to being told to shut up. But now was a time where he was allowed to break that rule. Probably. “I love you too,” He stammered out, embarrassed. Diego? Embarrassed? This whole day was filled with this rare emotion. Whatever, he was too exhausted to let it drain him.
They fell asleep under starlight through leaves as a bright fire burned throughout the night.