For Lito - Fairytale Plot Part 2

[love_made_public]

Lito is not answering.

No one is answering.

It's 6 in the morning and while it is possible that Lito simply slept at the studio rather than go all the way home, Hernando knows he would have called. Hernando had slept fitfully on the couch, the television on low in the background in case there was something he'd needed to know.

It is hardly the first time Lito has been out all night filming or at a party but this feels different. He realizes he has been pacing for several minutes and stops in front of the television just in time to see breaking news.

He sinks to his knees, watching wide eyed reports of strangeness: randomly poisoned fruits putting people into comas, sightings of a unicorn, ghosts appearing and there at the end; an evacuation at the studio. He scrambles up, grabbing his keys and wallet and tears down the stairs and into the street. He's still dressed, thank God for that, but he knows he looks crazed as he runs up the street looking for a cab. In the end, he's four blocks towards the studio before he finds one willing to take him on and all but throws a fist full of cash at the driver once they are close enough for him to make it the rest of the way on foot. The gate blocking off the sound stages is jarred open, as if it had been wrenched and as he squeezes through he hopes badly that this is an overreaction he will be mocked for.

Comments

[artoflove]

One of the security guards catches sight of a man trying to get into the studio, which is just the kind of crazy that no one should be trying right about now. "Hey! Hey, buddy!" he shouts, trying to get his attention as he stops him right when he's trying to get inside the gate. "You don't want to go in there," he warns. "Something happened overnight, it's like all the props kept coming out of nowhere, and there's weird plants in there, too," he says.

"Some kind of ivy or something? Whatever it is, it ain't pretty," he says, "plus, the komodo's loose, the wranglers are having a fit. Whole place is evacuated," he says, giving him an expectant look that he's gotta get out of there too.

[love_made_public]

It takes a long moment before can respond, for all of that is too ridiculous to even process. The news had not mentioned a komodo dragon at all.

"But where are they?" he presses, body still pulled tight as he's ready to sprint in. "Where are the actors? Lito Rodriguez, please. I'm looking for Lito Rodriguez. He is not answering his phone and he has not called. Where are the people who work here?"

[artoflove]

The guard shakes his head, offering an apologetic look. "I just started a few weeks ago, I don't even know the guy who hired me's last name, so I don't really know any of the actors," he says, but honestly, the whole thing is so chaotic that maybe they did leave a few of the actors in there. Glancing over his shoulder, he tries to make sure that no one is watching just now. "Hey, just don't get hurt, okay?" he says, helping to pry the gate open a little more.

"If anyone's in there, check set 4? That's where they were doing the shoot before things started to go crazy last night."

[love_made_public]

"Set 4," he whispers half to himself, nodding his thanks as he pushes through. He can feel his hands shaking as he darts across the pavement and into an alleyway separating the soundstages. He has never been here, never visited Lito on set as it is hard to shake the fear that his presence will ruin everything. It takes several long minutes but he finally finds a door with a small 4 above it. It does not look like any official entrance but he doesn't have time for that and this one seems to be already ajar.

It is not until he is up close that he sees why. There is some sort of ivy with what looks like a spike sticking out of the door.

It is not a spike. He opens the door cautiously and his jaw drops as he takes it in. It is a tangle of ivy, thick and ropy with thorns as big as his forearm.

"Lito?" he calls, trying to see into the dark.

[artoflove]

Inside, the opening door is like a beacon to the ivy growing, that inexplicably has thorns on it. It stretches towards the open door and the sound of a man coming inside, as if it wants to escape. The slow progression stops at the shoes of the man, winding slowly around as if lazily preparing to do something. There's a whisper down the hall that could be a person, but could also be the wind, but whatever it is, it's clearly designed to draw the new visitor in deeper into the darkness.

Slowly, the ivy winds, preparing another victim to tug in towards the darkness and where Lito Rodriguez lies in repose.

[love_made_public]

"Christ, Christ," Hernando spits out as a rope of ivy wraps itself around his wrist, tugging him into the building. He pulls back, shoes skidding as he tries to resist but as soon as he's past the threshold, the door slams shut behind him. He yells out, cursing as he feels it trying to wrap around his legs and waist but his voice does not even echo, only gets swallowed up.

He twists and wrenches, cursing his goddamn sweater vest as it starts to tangle with the spikes. One vicious kick clears enough room to shimmy forward as the vest finally rips, exposing his tshirt underneath and, unfortunately, his vulnerable side. A hot line burns down his ribs as he forces another step into the room, arms straining as he snaps one rope of ivy after the other. As soon as a hand is free, he clutches at his glasses, determined not to go into this basically blind. He can feel little, tiny cuts opening up on his face and exposed arms but none of this matters if there is even a small chance Lito is stuck in this.

[artoflove]

The door shutting sets the emergency lights on, casting a red glow to most of the hallways but one, where spotlights shine and lead towards the end, but the vines are only quelled for a moment, as if the man fighting back had been unexpected and unplanned. Still, it only stays gone for a brief moment before the vines start to crawl back towards him, starting to chase while something up ahead hisses through them, the vines carving a path for it.

The komodo dragon, awake from its nap, now stares down the intruder from the end of the hallway, as if waiting.

[love_made_public]

It isn't until he stumbles a few feet forward, feet still kicking and blood trickling down his face that he notices the spotlights through the dark tangle. He cannot tell what they point to, only that it is ahead and it seems that the louder he yells for Lito, for help, for anything that the more his voice is absorbed into the vines. He's staring at his feet, trying not to trip and gut himself on a spike when he hears it and it is simply so ridiculous that his mind cannot process for a moment.

That is a komodo dragon, the one Lito spoke of. And now the vines seems to not only be grasping at him, but nudging him slowly towards the damn thing. The spikes arrange themselves so to go backwards or to the side is next to impossible and he cannot for the life of him remember anything about these animals other than their evolutionary science which seems deeply unhelpful. He breaks off a spike, holding it like a dagger as he shuffles forward, inanely wondering if they have teeth.

[artoflove]

The dragon cocks its head lazily to the side, its large paws slowly staggering across the floor as it positions itself, but when it turns its head to the side, the breath that comes out isn't just normal breath, but is instead, tinged with fire. It licks at the ivy, making it curl up and almost shriek in the way it shrinks. The dragon turns its attention back to the man standing across from him, standing completely still.

It's waiting to charge, but it also isn't in any rush. It knows it can protect the room and the man within, very easily.

[love_made_public]

"Motherfuck!" Hernando yelps, as the giant lizard breathes fire which he knows they are definitely not supposed to do. He holds the spike in front of him, no idea if he can even manage to stab an animal much less a magic lizard monster.

"Go," he hisses, taking cautious steps as he's prodded from behind with spikes. "Get, get out of the way." He even tries switching to English in case the thing knows commands, like a dog. "Fuck, please, just go."

[artoflove]

Going is the last thing it wants to do. It doesn't know why, but the animal has one goal in mind and that involves protecting the end of the hallway that leads to a room where the ivy has blossomed into beautiful white blossoms, sweet smelling and surrounding the man in the bed. It's just a dragon, but it knows protection.

It takes a few more steps towards the man with the weapon, picking up speed now as it starts to move faster down the hall, the fire licking at the ivy and thorns and spikes to clear a path each time an obstacle occurs.

[love_made_public]

"Oh my god, oh god, oh god," Hernando mutters, bouncing in place as he grips the giant thorn. He's completely blocked in place and the damn dragon is clearly pissed, now and he is not a hero. Hernando is not a hero nor an action star. He is in a sweater vest, for Christ's sake and he can only blame adrenaline for the mad idea that overtakes him. The only way is forward. With an almighty yell he runs for the dragon and jumps, hoping to God he can clear the thing with minimal damage.

He hopes very much that he doesn't just land on top of it and that his corduroy do not go up like a light.

[artoflove]

This isn't what the animal had expected. It can't make a face, but there's a groaning sound as the spike sticks out of its back, blood dripping over it and falling from where the thing had grazed him, but it's not enough to dissuade him, spinning and roaring a burst of fire (and if the dragon knows, somehow, that it couldn't do this yesterday, it doesn't show any signs of that at all).

When the fire extinguishes, it uses its tail to try and strike, an attempt to cut out the man's legs from under him.

[love_made_public]

For a moment, he thinks he's done it. He thinks he's cleared the thing, defeated the monster. And then he feels the searing heat against his leg and before he knows it, he goes down hard, gasping in pain.

He instinctively rolls away, slamming his charred pant leg down against the ground as the skin already starts to blister. He starts to crawl away, pushing up to his one good leg and tries to run away, towards the light. He has to get to Lito, he has to and he can't imagine what he'll find after all of this.

[artoflove]

The lights flicker and seem to fade behind the man, as if turning off and leading him down towards the on-call room that's become a strange, glowing, floral blooming place of repose. The lights lead to a heavy door that looks to be ornately carved, even though it's just a styrofoam set piece treated to look like heavy oak.

The spotlights shine brightest here and the komodo dragon has already begun to waddle away, intent on eating some of the berries on one of the vines rather than pursuing the intruder any longer.

[love_made_public]

Hernando risks a glance back over his shoulder and is very nearly relieved to see the creature ambling away (and strangely enough, glad he did not kill it). Very nearly relieved, of course, because ahead of him is an imposing door with a spotlight and he knows he is being fucked with. This is the city, doing it's insidious tricks and they have his Lito and it is times like these that for all of their new freedoms, he finds himself hating this place.

This door should not be on this set. He's seen every episode of Space Hospital and while his hands shake and he is burned and bloody, he cannot leave his Lito inside, no matter what horrors are on the other side. He lays a trembling hand against the door, gathering himself for a moment as he prays his Lito is on the other side. His fingers curl around the door knob, pulling as hard as he can.

[artoflove]

The door goes easily, the weight of it lighter than all wood, and with it, it reveals a whole room that was once ivy and thorns, now blooming in white and red flowers. Roses, carnations, exotic lilies, and all other types, all framing Lito, who lies in perfect repose, so still that it might appear like he's not breathing.

His hands folded on his chest, the pillows prop up his head and make him look ethereal, especially in the too-tight white orderly scrubs his costume requires him to wear. With the flowers hanging above, it makes him look as if they wreath his forehead. The whole room casts an angelic light.

[love_made_public]

He very nearly ends up on his ass as the door swings open, light as can be. He's too busy righting himself for a moment to take in what is before him.

He does go down, then, having forgot about his injuries in his panic. "Lito, Lito!" he shouts, crawling and then hobbling forward. He stops just short of the bed when he realizes Lito has not woken at all, not even moved. In fact, he looks more pale and still than Hernando has ever seen before. "Oh Christ," he chokes out, cradling Lito's face. He feels cool to the touch, as if he's...

"Lito, Lito please. Lito wake up. Lito it's Hernando wake up."

[artoflove]

Lito doesn't wake up. He lies completely still, his breathing a slow and steady thing that doesn't shift, no matter how much Hernando pleads. Still, his chest does still rise and fall, just enough to show that he's not dead and that Hernando hasn't lost him. On his finger, there is the distinct red mark of a place he was pricked and as Hernando pleads, the flowers seem to crawl towards him, creating a bed of them for Lito to lie on.

Even though he wants nothing more than to look at Hernando, he doesn't move at all, whole body completely still.

[love_made_public]

"Baby, baby please," Hernando pleads, giving Lito's face a sharp slap that he will gladly apologize for later.

Nothing.

He rips frantically at the flowers that keep trying to encroach upon them, like they are trying to cover him up. Like Lito is dead.

"Somebody fucking help!" he screams. He has to get him out of here, he thinks, he has to. They cannot stay in this evil fucking place. He tugs on the bed rail, staring in horror as it doesn't move. These things are supposed to move, he's seen them in the show. They should move but it won't budge. And he doesn't know, for all his love and panic, if he can lift Lito.

[artoflove]

Lito doesn't move at all, not for the slap, not for the flowers being moved out of the way. He lies there, still, and despite everything inside him screaming to wake up (especially at the sound of Hernando's distress), it's like he's a prisoner in his own body, unable to do anything. He lies there, still, and silent, and waiting.

The lights above them soften, as if to give an amber glow over Lito's skin, like he's being lit for a scene, but it gives him a youthful appearance, as handsome as he'll get in his repose.

[love_made_public]

"Stop this!" he screams as the fucking lights change. It is fucking with them, whatever entity it is that controls the madness in this city. It has put Lito in danger and now it is enjoying watching Hernando fall apart.

He can feel hot tears on his face as he leans in to wrap his arms around Lito's back, trying as hard as he can to pull him up. But the second he braces his legs, the burns pull and split and send him back to the ground, howling in pain and frustration. He isn't strong enough to do this. He can't pull Lito out of that bed without risking dropping him and there's no way he can get him through the thorns and past the monster outside.

He's failed Lito but maybe if he stays, he thinks, as he pushes back up. Maybe if he stays, they will leave them alone or the next torment sent in will take Hernando instead. He crawls into the bed and tucks himself along Lito's side, one arm thrown over his chest.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, tears running down to soak through the thin white scrubs. "I'm sorry I can't get you out."

[artoflove]

Lito's scrubs stain with the tears and trickles of blood, but Lito himself doesn't move. He lies there, still, but his heart still beats along. The flowers seem to recede, even though the light still makes it hard to focus anywhere but on Lito's face, trying to bring attention to what Hernando has been missing this whole time.

It's not quite a glass case, but a bed full of flowers and in the spotlight is more apropos to Lito Rodriguez anyway.

[love_made_public]

At any other time it would have come together for him. The themes and the narrative that they are being forced through would have revealed itself and he would have known his next step.

But this is unprecedented and his worry and anguish eclipses all. That he smoothes Lito's hair and leans in for a kiss is born out of desperation and nothing else. His lips feel cool and taste salty from Hernando's tears.

[artoflove]

The touch of lips to Lito's is what finally begins to break the spell, if only a little. The movement is minuscule, but there, as Lito's lashes flutter against his cheeks. It's like his body has picked up a few degrees in temperature, even, though he can't move very well just yet, still feeling stiff and trapped in his own body. His lashes flutter some more and his lips part, a singular name on his lips.

"Hernando." It's dry and soft, barely there, but it's very clearly a name. It's Hernando's name, and as he says it, whatever ivy is left blossoms and blooms, as if there had never been a threat in this room to begin with.