Chapter Text
All around him was the deafening silence of a void. The only light that appeared to remain was a faint, pulsing flash behind his eyes. Leon's breath hitched and his heart faltered with it. His hand raised to his chest, nails clawing at heated flesh as throbs radiated through his torso. How long had he been floating now? He lost count minutes - hours - before now. He had expected to lose the battle ages ago; however, there was a strand of hope that continued to tether him. And damn was it holding strong when he had watched all others snap under the growing strain.
He wasn't going to lie, everything hurt. It was as though each individual cell in his body was trying to eat themselves. Leon lifted his other palm to eye level and gazed it at: still as normal as ever. No physical sign of the war that was raging in his bloodstream. He blinked heavily, barely noticing the afterimages of a completely different version of his hand: blemished with lesions.
The appearance no longer bothered him.
His gaze remained forward when his hand dropped. Slowly, Leon closed his eyes and leaned his head back - more waiting, it seemed. He wondered which would happen first: dying from the pain, or going insane.
There was the ever present question that followed: was he weak for craving the former?
Honestly, it was preferable. He would rather that option out of all the others that crossed his mind. It was better than being stuck in this hell of a purgatory for all of eternity. And it sure as shit was better than having something that wasn't him claim his own body. And yet, as desperately as he desired it, he couldn't bring himself to sever that last shackle anchoring him down.
There was something whispering in the back of his mind, encouraging him to just hold out as long as he could.
He gasped. A chill flushed through his veins. The stark difference between the two temperatures was almost enough steel his lungs. But what was initially a shock, eventually transformed into relief. It was overwhelming, clouding his senses with a sheet of ice to combat the raging fire.
Leon nearly choked as every muscle constricted with the rush of the chill. It was then he realized he couldn't actually breathe. He was gasping for air, but none of it was making it past his lips, it seemed. His heart raced, accelerating the sensation until everything began to grow numb, both mind and body.
What the hell was happening?
'Is this really what dying feels like?' he thought, the edges of his vision pulsing with the beat of his heart. Soon enough, his body began to relax, no longer able to tolerate this stark, sudden difference.
A new kind of pain started setting in, entering him as the previous heat exited. Whereas the last was just that: near-debilitating fire, this was a dull throb through his whole body, firing off like an electrical current. He blinked once, twice, the image before him growing fuzzy every time his eyes opened back up.
After what felt like a lifetime, he finally drew in a breath that seared his throat and lungs. Then another, and before long they were coming in rapid succession. He closed his eyes one last time, as the world around him wavered; the air itself thickening and crumbling until it all just…
Chris tried to hold the gun as steady as he could, but the slight tremor running down his arm wavered his aim. His breath out stung his nostrils as he tightened his grasp on his pistol. One more breath in and he held it there.
"Sorry, I did the best I could," he muttered, low enough not to hear the unsteadiness of his own words. His finger, squeezed slowly. He blinked, aim twitching, just as the shot rang out, and he was sure his heart stopped where he stood. Eyes widened, the man stared down: at the still form before him, and at the smoldering hole in the floor just inches from Leon's head.
For a second or two, only the echo of the shot bounced back. He dropped to his knees next to the brunet. He was sure he saw it. No way his mind was playing tricks on him; there was definitely a breath there. If his experience told him anything, it was that the dead did not breathe.
"H-Hey!" he stammered out, unintentionally harsh word causing him to inwardly flinch. Pressing his lips into a tight line, he lowered his head until his ear was resting on the man's chest. He remained there for two seconds...then three...four...fi-
'Thump'
He wasn't sure whether to believe it or not, so he listened for a second. And, after a few more moments, there it was: another heart beat. His fingers again found the side of the man's neck, and it was there - a weak pulse. Faint and faltering, but there. At first, there was that flood of relief, and he didn't dare move. But, on the other hand, there was a part of him that wanted to punch the guy square in the nose for making him worry for even a minute.
Chris could forgive that for now. All that mattered was that Leon was alive. Still looked like death on a bad day, but alive nonetheless. He slowly sat back up, carefully, as if his movement would ruin everything. A sigh sounded and he leaned back, eyes locked on the subtly rising chest. Guess there was nothing else left to do aside from wait. This wasn't over just yet, and from the looks of it, Leon was just barely clinging to the world of the living. To be honest, Chris wasn't sure his heart could handle a second round of death.
He prepared himself for a long day and propped himself on the wall across from the other, where he could get a nice watch over him. It wouldn't be until the next day a helicopter was sent to retrieve him. They would just have to hold out until then. And he'd be damned if he was even going to think about leaving Leon's side until then.
For the first hour, nothing changed. Wasn't the best he hoped for, but as far as he was concerned, no change was better than one for the ' knee bounced as the second hour rolled around. The third hour had come and gone with him barely noticing. But, as it neared the fifth, a pained groan broke the silence.
In an instant, Chris crawled over to the other's side just as his face twisted and turned to the side. He said nothing as Leon slowly came around. Keeping his attention locked, the larger man placed a single hand on his pale cheek to turn him back. But, as soon as his fingers brushed over dry skin, Leon gasped, back arching as much as his worn body allowed. It were as though the touch alone hurt.
That in mind, he snatched his hand away with a quick, muttered apology. His ears were ringing with the rush of his blood, and his hands hovered unsure of what to do. Slowly, Leon calmed down, his face relaxed a few notches, but those lines of discomfort remained.
Another grunt, and for the first time since returning, Chris made out a peek of dimmed grey. That was all he needed to witness the lack of focus and lucidity. Leon's lips parted enough for panted breaths, and marginally, his eyes opened wider until his gaze lazily gravitated towards Chris.
"Nice of you to finally join me," he said lightheartedly.
The corner of Leon's mouth merely twitched, but quickly dropped into a grimace. His right hand shakily made its way to his chest. Teeth grit, he grasped at his shirt, knuckles whitening. A few seconds passed before they unfurled.
Leon swallowed, eyes closing tightly with the obvious struggle. "Y-You're back," he whispered hoarsely.
Chris nodded once before realizing the gesture couldn't be seen. "Yeah, I said I would, didn't I?" he hummed in amusement. "And, I see you kept your promise in staying alive...mostly." Despite the fact that he was serious pushing the boundaries of 'alive', but that was a minor detail. "How ya feeling?" Stupid question.
Leon's eyes pulled back open and he stared near blankly at the ceiling. His hand slipped back to his side. "Alive," he said softly. Chris wanted to laugh, but the other's features were set like stone. There wasn't a degree of humor to be spotted. And even he wanted to deny it, but was that fear he saw tucked under that hardened gaze?
"Well, that's better than nothing 'spose," Chris replied. "He's dead, by the way...Abram." He watched for a reaction, but there was none. Not so much as a falter in his stare. "And the place...it's destroyed. Most of it, anyway."
Leon breathed deeply through his nose, wincing. "Everything's...taken care of, then?" he asked, finally tearing his gaze away to look at the other in the eyes. Chris nodded sharply. "A-And...the…?" he trailed off, but the rest of the question was visible on his lips.
"Virus?" Chris finished for him. "I...I honestly have no idea," he answered truthfully. "It was a gamble," he retrieved the half empty vials and held them in view, "using these. At least, they seemed to have done something. But, I guess we won't know for sure until enough time passes." He carefully set them back aside and Leon's eyes followed.
Chris still couldn't help his attention from occasionally flicking to the other man's neck. Obviously, he hadn't expected the wounds to automatically heal with the administration, but they still appeared just as troubling as before.
"You're not going to like this," he started, grabbing one of the packs from his side, "but Imma have to clean that up." He nodded towards the marred flesh.
If possible, Leon's face paled more, but he gave a nod of confirmation. "Do what you have to."
'Not like I want to,' Chris muttered to himself as he fetched the antiseptic and bandages from his kit. He poured a generous amount on a cloth and hesitated for a split moment before pressing it against the worst of the wounds. As expected, the reaction was not a pleasant one. Leon breathed in sharply, stifling a cry with a disgruntled snarl instead. When he pulled it away, the other was left near-gasping, eyelids fluttering.
"Try not to pass out," he suggested, his air of gruffness slowly settling back in.
As expected, he was met with a sideways glare.
Exactly what he wanted to see: that signature stubbornness. He just had a few more to clean. The rest weren't nearly as bad, his face having the mildest of the ulcers. Though still extreme, his reactions weren't quite as violent.
"I'm almost done," Chris promised, unsure if Leon could still hear him. He was going as fast as he could while still being thorough enough. He didn't know which one was more relieved by the end of it. For a moment, he thought Leon really had passed out until he let out another tight groan.
The hardest part was over. Wrapping it was easier on the both of them. He wrapped the bandages tight enough to keep the wounds well covered, but was careful not to go too tight as to make breathing any more difficult than it had to be. Quickly enough, both shoulder and face were covered as well.
"Better," he breathed out. "I think I already know the answer, but think you can handle drinking a little bit of water?"
As expected, there was a slow, sluggish head shake. Before Chris could press the matter, Leon spoke up. "N-Not at the'moment," he slurred, "m-maybe inna few?"
The disapproval was plain as day on the larger man's face, but he dropped it for now. As long as he was willing to try in the next hour, then fine. But, that didn't mind the idea of resorting to force didn't cross his mind.
"Alright," Chris said, putting everything back away. "For now, I guess you should try to get some rest. We're gonna be here for a while longer, so best to settle in 'til morning."
Leon didn't need to be told twice. It was clear to both of them that he was fighting sleep from the moment he woke up. As he relaxed what little he could, Chris perched himself against the wall near Leon's feet, where he could see his face plainly. In a matter of a few moments, the brunet was out like a light, his breathing evening out with the occasional hitch.
It was steady though.
Reassuring.
Chris leaned his head back and kept a close eye on the time. His eyes glanced to the water he left behind, and it was clear none of it was gone. After an hour, Leon was going to drink something whether he wanted to or not. The infection may have been ebbing away from what he could tell, but there were still other matters that desperately needed tending to.
He watched the seconds tick by; there was nothing else to do as Leon slept. Right on the hour, he was moving. Hand landing on the other man's shoulder, there was an instant pang of guilt, especially when he appeared to be sleeping rather peacefully. But he wasn't willing to take anymore risks.
"Hey…" he said firmly with a gently shake. To his surprise, Leon stirred almost instantly, eyes snapping open, wielding a veil of a panic. "It's fine...it's me." Chris waited as the alarm faded and recognition took over.
Leon blinked blearily. "What issit?" he asked, obviously annoyed.
"You need to drink something."
The brunet tried to turn his head away. "...Like a broken'record," he muttered with a sigh. His eyes cut over when the hovering didn't move, and showed no sign of backing off. "Nottta choice?" he questioned.
"Not a single one."
Defeated, not that there was much of a fight to be had, Leon let out a heavy breath. "Alright, you win." That was all Chris needed to hear to slip an arm under the smaller man's shoulders, who in turn hissed. The assistance was gentle enough until he was mostly sat up. His vision swarmed slightly with the change in elevation, and both gave it time to subside.
When the mouth of the water bottle touched Leon's lips, he cringed slightly, but he still allowed Chris to help him take a sip, and soon he was encouraged to take another.
"That's not nearly enough," Chris informed when he tried to turn his head away after the third. "I'm not a doctor, Leon, but even I can tell how dehydrated you are." The fact that there was a slight fever again and barely a drop of sweat was telling enough. "Either you drink the damn water, or I find another method."
Leon shot daggers at the man, they had dull edges, but they were unmistakably daggers still. After a displeased groan, he managed to drink an acceptable amount, enough to finally put Chris' worry at ease.
"Was that so bad?"
Leon grimaced as he was slowly lowered back down. His nose scrunched as his head was placed down. "The 'ell's that smell?"
"Your vomit all over the floor," Chris answered flatly. "And don't you dare add to it…"
The ex-cop waved a hand. "Yeah, yeah." He took a deep breath, and tensed with the exhale. "How much longer?"
Chris checked the time. "Nearly four," he answered. "We got about 13 more hours here. I called it in, so they're going to try to get here as soon as possible," he assured. "Think you can wait that long?" he smirked slightly.
"Easily." His snarkiness was slowly coming back to him. "But...if you don't mind...I think Imma...take a nap...while I wait." His voice wavered; Chris wondered if it was from exhaustion or pain, or both.
This time, Chris let him sleep, he let him rest late into the evening and as night swiftly approached. The man barely stirred aside from the rare groan or faltering breath. He slept well into the night, nearing morning when something finally roused the man from his light slumber. He awoke to Chris already on his feet. He didn't get a chance to ask what was going on when the larger man looked his way.
"Well, you ready to get out of here?"
Was that a question? There was no need for reply. Chris didn't wait for one when he went to lift the other up.
"I can walk," Leon blurted out, swatting the man's hands away. Chris' brow rose and he folded his arms. He only watched for a moment as the man before him struggled to sit up.
"That's fine and all, but we don't have a week to wait for you to get on your feet," he said, ignoring the protests and hefting Leon to his feet. He was merciful enough to let him retain some sort of dignity, pride he was sure was no more than a thin sheet at this point. He bore the majority of Leon's weight, but he still allowed him to stumble along as he practically dragged him.
Lucky for the both of them, it was a short walk to the clearing. Regardless, Leon was left desperate for breath and he leaned completely against the other, barely on the edge of consciousness. Everything beyond that was a haze for him. He was vaguely aware of being picked up, knew he was being moved around. But the thing that stuck out to him the most was the first breath of fresh air he's felt he had in years.
There was a bunch of murmuring around him; he heard his name a couple times and saw things being passed back and forth. And then a prick stung his arm, snatching him from his dream-like state. He went to sit up, a wave of adrenaline assisting him.
Just as quickly, a pair of strong hands pushed his shoulders back down.
"-eon! Leon, hey, calm down!" His heart slowed at the familiar voice. He blinked, blurred vision clearing up slightly. Chris was sitting next to him, next to a guy with a mask - a doctor, he took it. Right, right, of course, they were getting out of here.
He became aware of the mask over his nose and mouth and the IV currently in his arm. There was too much going on around him to focus on just one thing, so he chose to focus on Chris. Leon held his attention on his face as the others continued to work around him, poking and prodding. They peeled the bandages on his neck and face, finally eliciting a hiss, but he never averted his gaze. As the pain registered, one hand grabbed his and squeezed tightly. Chris gave him a nod and held on until they finished with the wounds.
Leon hadn't realized how tight his own grasp was until an ache ran down his fingers and he forced them to relax. After a few minutes of them being in the air, everything settled down around him, and he was finally able to take a break and soak everything in. He already knew they were in a helicopter, and other than Chris there were two others other than the pilot. Both appeared to be medics.
He took a few more minutes before pulling his hand away from the other. He was sure he'd be fine now, most of the pain had dulled and his breaths were coming much easier. Once he knew he could talk without issue, he muttered, "Hey, Chris?"
Said man hummed, giving Leon his full attention.
There was a pause as words played on the tip of the brunet's tongue. He finally swallowed what was left of his pride and turned his head slightly away.
"Thanks," he muttered under his breath. He cleared his throat uncomfortably "Thanks for...yeah, puttin' your life'on the line." His words still slurred out, and he was starting to wonder what exactly they had in that IV.
He could make out the ghost of a chuckle as things started to fog over. "Well, just doing my job, Kennedy." Everything was starting to jumble together as his mind began to drift. "Just...try not to make a habit of this, if you can help it." There was a hand back on his shoulder, "But...you're welcome. You know, you really did scare the shit out of me." He thought back to that single bullet and shook his head. He still couldn't believe how close he was to doing that. "You got really lucky this time…"