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detectivelokis · 1 year

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Playing Doctor

Words: 2.2 k

Warnings: Vague mentions of violence, injuries, and body horror.

A/N: My starter piece for the Horror Bang Exchange. Thank you to @sstewyhosseini for looking this over 🖤 @aceghosts including you since you asked to be tagged when this was posted.

Raccoon City was in ruins.

After a week of, what felt like, hell on Earth, the city had been decimated. One single bomb extinguished the last flicker of light. Not that there was much left after the virus had taken hold of its occupants. Adults, children, hell, even animals gone in the blink of an eye, turned into nothing but snarling and lumbering husks of themselves.

Save for a few lucky survivors, one of them being Charlie.

It had been a surprise to almost everyone, including herself, that she had managed to make it out in one piece. Her? The runt of her platoon? It was more than luck that got her out of there, it was a goddamn miracle.

“How did you manage this?,” she asks herself, green eyes transfixed on the cascade of bubbles trailing down her bruised and reddened body.

It’s not that Charlie isn’t a capable person, far from it in fact. But, throughout her life she has always been second best. Second best sharpshooter in Montana; the one always getting a participation trophy. There are no billboards proudly displaying her face for all to see, no parades to welcome her home.

She is no prodigal daughter.

It doesn’t matter to the rest of the world that she survived a catastrophic event well beyond what most people are capable of imagining. No, all that matters to anyone that’s in the know, and for all she knows that really could be anyone, is that she was an employee of Umbrella. An enemy of the state now.

But, at least she isn’t alone. She never really had many encounters with Carlos while they were both still mercenaries, both on different platoons and stationed in different locations, but she knew enough about him to know that going on the run with him wasn’t the worst thing she could do. Not anymore at least.

Being on the run was lonely, though. For the first day Charlie had laid in her motel room, too stressed to sleep and too anxious to go visit her newfound ally. It didn’t stop her gaze from lingering on the connecting door that led to his room, constantly hoping that he would make the first move and come to her.

After just a few hours of solitude and trying to send signals with her mind to the room next door, Charlie had given up. How could she just sit around moping about when the one person who could understand what she’s going through is right there?

Which is how she now finds herself in his shower, her delicate fingers poking and prodding at the bruises littering her skin; blood and dirt pooling at her feet. Yes, she had lied and said her own was broken and only producing cold water, but she could tell from the look in his eyes that Carlos had wanted company too.

“Are you alright in there?,” the aforementioned man calls from behind the door, distracting her from injuring herself any further. “The water doesn’t stay hot for too long here either. Now the water pressure on the other hand, that’s -”

“I’m fine,” Charlie calls out, interrupting him. She chews on her lip as she thinks of what to say next. She doesn’t want to leave the comfort of the shower if she’s being honest with herself. Once she emerges from her cocoon of steam that means she has to go back to her own room and she doesn’t want that, as childish and dumb as it may seem.

She doesn’t want to be alone.

But she has to face her fears. She survived an onslaught of zombies that lasted a week, she should be able to leave the bathroom, not even her own bathroom, and see if Carlos actually does want her company or not.

After a few more moments of letting the water scorch her battered body, she finally emerges. As she dries herself off she eyes the oversized robe that she had found hidden in her room. She doesn’t know where it came from or who wore it before her, but she doesn’t have many options with her only clothes still covered in sewage and blood.

“Wow,” Carlos says as she walks out of the steam-filled bathroom, dark eyes scanning her figure with a playful gleam. “You look refreshed.”

Charlie wants to roll her eyes, give her usual snarky reply to the comment, but she doesn’t. Instead she blushes; freckled cheeks turning a shade of crimson she didn’t even know was possible.

“You were right about the water pressure. Felt like a nice trip to the spa.”

Sitting on the bed with a wince, Charlie notices the bags and containers of fast food laying about on the table her companion is currently sitting at, her stomach growling despite the pain.

“You okay there?”

Carlos stands as he sees her face contort in pain. Fuck. And here she was thinking she was being subtle.

“I’m fine,” she holds up a hand, trying to wave him away. “Is that,” she pauses, shooting him a soft smile in an attempt to distract him. “Is that the strawberry shake I asked for? You actually ordered it?”

Carlos sighs, eyes glancing back at the table before he picks up the drink. He looks like he’s about to hand it over to her, his arm outstretched and if she wasn’t in so much pain she could reach out and grab it. But he doesn’t.

“How about we make a deal? You let me take a look at your injuries and I’ll give you your milkshake. Does that sound good?”

Charlie’s eyes linger on the drink, drool forming at just the thought of the creamy concoction hitting her taste buds. Jesus, she’s hungry.

“Fine.” She lets out a huff as she undoes the belt of her robe, letting it fall open to expose her mess of a body.

It doesn’t faze her when his eyes immediately spot the massive bruise that has made its home on the side of her torso. After working for Umbrella she’s gotten used to changing in front of her teammates, but she does almost jump out of her skin when his fingers tentatively touch the sore spot; both from pain and shock.

“Jesus.”

Carlos lets out a low exhale as his calloused hand runs down her side, brow furrowed in concentration as he takes it all in. “Why didn’t you come to me sooner? Did this happen when you were thrown?”

“I dunno. I guess so?”

Charlie shrugs, trying to play it cool despite the agonizing pain she’s currently in. But the memories of the police station flood back to her in a wave.

That creature outside the locker rooms, its skin inhumanly pale; almost translucent, and its brain matter partly exposed, had cornered them. It looked like one giant, disgusting hairless cat guarding its territory. When it noticed them it had lashed out, whipping her into the vending machines.

She had hit it with such force that her body had left a dent, despite how tiny her frame is, and cans of soda came careening down upon her, one particular can of Sprite bursting and fizzing its contents all over her head. She’s pretty sure the scent of lime and shit will now be embedded into her skin for the rest of her life.

Except for now you smell like him.

The thought alone sends a shiver down her spine as she watches Carlos inspect the cuts and bruises on her arms and torso. She had come into his room and used his room and used his shampoo, his lotion. It feels way more intimate than she was expecting.

“Here.” Carlos holds up her shake for her to take before pushing himself to his feet. “Just wait here while I grab my first aid kit and I’ll patch you up.”

“Can’t I eat my chicken tenders first?”

Carlos laughs softly as she pouts up at him. “Don’t worry, princess. I’ll have you fixed up in no time.”

Charlie bites down on the inside of her cheek at the pet name. Princess? Really? She knew some of the people she had worked with had thought of her as prissy and high-maintenance, but Carlos had only just met her this week. Unless…

Oh.

The realization that he’s flirting with her dawns on her suddenly and she perks up, as much as she can, at least. With everything that happened in Raccoon City she hadn’t even had time to process any type of emotions, let alone that she might be attracted to him. But, as Carlos comes back, first aid kit and supplies at the ready, Charlie realizes almost immediately that she is.

She is very much attracted to him.

“Wow. You weren’t lying about playing doctor, were you.”

Charlie looks up at him through her lashes, milkshake cradled in her hands. She can see the corner of his lips quirk up at her words and she sucks on her straw to stifle her own smile.

“Playing doctor, huh?” He lays everything next to her before he sits down, the bed creaking underneath his weight. “You make a terrible patient, you know that, right?,” he teases.

Moving the left half of her robe aside, Carlos begins to gently cleanse and disinfect the scattering of small cuts alongside her arms and torso. It burns more than she would care to admit and Charlie can’t help but hiss as he drags the gauze over her skin.

“Sorry.”

He looks up at her sheepishly, dark eyes filled with a gentle kindness. It makes something inside of her stomach flutter.

“I wish you had come to me sooner, so far it doesn’t seem like they’ll get infected. But this one,” he pauses, his fingers graze the bruise on her side as a frown starts to form on his face. “This one might need some extra attention.”

Charlie scoffs. No fucking way is she going to the hospital right now. Yes, she is in excruciating pain and yes, it hurts to both sit and stand. But going and getting it checked out after what happened in Raccoon City? Not a chance in hell.

“Go to the hospital and have the government catch up to us and question us about our affiliation with Umbrella or stay here and have you do your best to help me take care of it.” She holds up her hands as if weighing the options. “I think I choose the latter.”

Carlos sighs in response. Charlie knows he means well, and she does genuinely appreciate the concern, but their employers not expecting them to make it out of the city alive put them in quite the dangerous predicament.

“It shouldn’t be us who’s on the run. Those motherfuckers need to pay for what they’ve done, what they’ve put us through.”

“I know.”

Her voice is quiet and she bites her lip, inwardly wincing as her teeth connect with cut flesh. She doesn’t know what the future holds and she’s uncertain about how to feel about her past, but despite everything the present isn’t quite as bad as she imagined it would be.

“Listen, I want to be able to fix this,” he says, gesturing at her injuries. “But that doesn’t look good. You could -”.

Not wanting to hear anymore about the potential risks of not seeking medical attention, Charlie leans forward, cutting him off with a simple, chaste kiss. She wasn’t intending on doing that and pulls away almost immediately, mouth agape and cheeks flush from embarrassment.

“Oh, fuck. I don’t know what came over me.”

Carlos doesn’t let her get another word in, taking his chance to interrupt her, his hand cupping her cheek before leaning in to kiss her. Unlike hers it’s neither gentle nor soft. Instead, his lips greedily capture hers in a way that brings out a different hunger in her.

She whimpers as his teeth tug on her lower lip, a trickle of blood from her cut trailing out. It’s devouring and all consuming; exactly what she needed after everything that’s happened to her recently. After a few moments she pulls away. She wants more, she needs more, but she knows now isn’t the right time.

“Wow.”

Charlie peeks up through her lashes at him, an innocent, almost girlish expression on her face. What has gotten into her?

“Yeah. Wow.”

Carlos rests his forehead against hers and for a couple of minutes the two just sit there, their breath heavy as his thumb strokes her cheek. Unable to handle the silence any longer, Charlie sighs exasperatedly.

“Can we eat the chicken tenders now?,” she whispers, eliciting a chuckle out of Carlos.

Maybe this was always supposed to happen, their paths crossing despite all the horrors they’ve seen. It’s certainly a nice thought.

#gosh this one makes me nervous #going outside of my comfort zone with this one 🙃#cutie Charlie? who is she?#oc: charlie berger #carlos oliveira #ship: like a cold shower on a hot night #resident evil #horror bang exchange 2023 #my fics

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