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It took tremendous effort for Leon to blink his eyes open, and it was even harder to actually try to focus them properly on his surroundings. There was a dull throb of a headache, making him groan, and instinctively he tried to bring a palm up to his forehead only to realize that he was propped into a chair with his arms tied up behind his back. Experimentally he tugged on the ropes, and to his dismay he noticed they were tied so tight and so well that there was no getting out of them. At least not subtly.
Only belatedly he realized it might not have been a good idea to even let his captors know he was awake, but that ship had sailed, and so he tried to focus enough to see if there were others in the room besides him. Distantly he heard birds singing, which made no sense, but the chirping just would not stop. There was a man standing a few paces away from him, with his back turned, seemingly unarmed. He was fiddling with something, but as Leon tried to see what it was he was suddenly startled by a growling sound.
The sound made the man hum, too, and he slowly turned around to smile at Leon. “Oh, you’re awake.” He stepped a little closer, placing a hand on top of a wooden crate that had been shackled shut and set on top of one of the chairs around what appeared to be a dining table. “I’m sorry if my friend startled you, Leon. I’m afraid reanimating them did not bring them back with their full manners.”
“Reanim—” Leon started, cutting himself off. Eyes wide, he looked at the crate, only now realizing there was one exactly like it set on every single chair in the room, aside from the one right next to Leon’s. “Well isn’t that charming,” he said, at length, and despite the low drawl of his voice his mind was running a million miles a minute to come up with a viable escape plan. Chris and Rebecca had seen him being taken, surely, they would know to look for him. Unless they were— Leon didn’t even want to think about the alternative.
“Pleased to meet you,” the man tilted his head, looking at Leon from head to toe, as if appraising him. “I’m Glenn Arias.” He reached out his hand as if for a handshake, before he seemed to realize that Leon couldn’t exactly offer a hand back, and instead he shifted so he could run his gloved fingers over Leon’s cheek. “We are going to be very happy together, you and I.”
It was at least good to have it confirmed that his captor was indeed who he’d thought it was, and Leon started to immediately piece together everything he knew about the man. He was an arms dealer, Chris was hunting him, he’d released new types of BOW out in the world, and he had… lost his husband and all of his friends and family in an explosion at his own wedding. Cold dread crept up Leon’s spine and he glanced around himself from the corner of his eyes. Yep. Surely a wedding.
Only then Leon registered that he wasn’t exactly wearing the same leather jacket and jeans combo that he’d worn when he’d been abducted. He was in a sleek white suit, with a light blue shirt and a sky blue tie, and the mere realization made him squirm. So Arias hadn’t only brought him here, but had also taken the time to undress and redress him? How fucking amazing.
“I appreciate the offer,” Leon grumbled, shifting again to test his restraints. “But I’m going to have to pass. I have… prior engagements.”
“Oh no, I believe I’ve cleared your entire schedule for the foreseeable future.” Arias moved closer as he spoke, slipping behind Leon’s chair. He placed both hands on Leon’s shoulders, giving them a small squeeze as he went on. “Today we shall make history. And tomorrow? The world will be a different place.”
The words made Leon’s throat go dry. “Look, I don’t—”
That was as far as he got before he was cut off. Suddenly the lights went out, plunging them in darkness for a few seconds before a bright picture appeared on the big screen on the opposite wall. It was a wedding picture, Arias smiling at the camera while holding an arm around another man standing next to him. A man dressed in the same white suit Leon was currently in, and looking… well, eerily much like Leon. A little younger, sure, but Leon had a feeling if he’d bring out their old albums he could find one where he looked almost exactly like the man in this wedding photo.
“The day time stopped for me,” Arias said softly. He was brushing Leon’s shoulder with his thumb, still behind him. “That’s Sean. My husband. And you look so much like him.” He moved, his hand never leaving Leon’s shoulder as he rounded the chair and came to stand in front of it. He crouched down, then, smiling up at Leon in a strangely gentle way. “It’s not a coincidence that we met. It’s fate. I’m getting a second chance from the universe.”
“A second… chance?” Leon echoed, not willing to believe what he was seeing and hearing.
Arias’ smile turned a little sharper. “I’m redoing the wedding. This time with you.” He let his hand slide from Leon’s shoulder to his chest, resting it atop his heart. At the same time he brought his other hand to Leon’s thigh, leaning closer to him, almost as if he was going to kiss him. He stopped when there were only a couple of inches between their faces, though, instead bringing his hand from Leon’s chest to his cheek. “Tomorrow night, we will be bound forever.”
Leon forced himself to stay still instead of flinching from the touch. “Hate to break it to you,” he said, managing to sound a lot cockier than he felt. “But I’m already married. Happily so. You’re almost six years late.”
Instead of being bothered by the words, Arias only huffed out a laugh. “This time tomorrow?” He straightened, patting Leon’s cheek almost patronizingly. “You will be widowed.”
That at least meant that Chris was alive, and a rush of intense relief hit Leon at that realization. Chris was alive, and Chris was coming for him. He tried to stay as stoic as he possibly could, though, not to show Arias how much he was buoyed by the new information and how much it filled him with determination to get out of here. He stayed silent, watching as Arias walked to a crate next to the wall and carefully undid the latches.
“Leon,” Arias said, gently, before turning to look at him. “Meet Sean!” He held out an arm, an entire arm cut off somewhere a little below the shoulder. An arm that was half rotten, skin sickly grey, apparently after one too many reanimation attempts.
“You’re crazy,” Leon breathed out, unable to believe what he was seeing.
“I’m a man on a mission,” Arias countered, carefully sliding a ring off one of the dead fingers. “And I am about to claim my prize.” Gently, lovingly, he set the arm aside before approaching Leon again. He held the ring up for him, even kneeled down in front of him as if he was going to propose. “I wish I could untie you and put this ring on your finger now. But we’ll have to wait for the ceremony, I’m afraid. I just can not risk it.”
“Risk this,” Leon snapped. He knew it wasn’t exactly his most stellar line, but hey, he’d been knocked unconscious and he probably had a concussion and this creep had been getting way too close and personal with him already. So he took his chances, now that Arias wasn’t wary and on guard. In one swift motion Leon slammed his knee up right against Arias’ chin, and as the man staggered backwards from the force of the blow Leon kicked him solidly in the chest.
Arias was down for a moment, fallen on the floor on his back, but unlucky for Leon he’d underestimated the tightness of the ropes binding his hands. Usually he could’ve easily slipped out of the chair and gotten his arms from behind his back to his front, but now that he tried there was an intense flash of pain at his shoulder that made him pause mid-movement. And that pause was all Arias needed.
The next second Arias was back on his feet and slapped Leon across his face, so hard the pain in even Leon’s shoulder got worse. The first slap was followed by another one, accompanied by an enraged scream, before Arias simply grabbed Leon’s hair to hold his head in place. He forced Leon to tilt his head back, exposing his throat, his breath hot against Leon’s neck as he leaned in. “You will regret this,” he hissed. “I will make sure of that.”
“Fuck you,” Leon gritted out through clenched teeth.
Arias didn’t seem to mind. There was strange note in his voice, and he practically pressed his nose against Leon’s cheek, inhaling deeply. “We will be so happy together, you and I.” He said, almost reverently. “It’s only a matter of time.”
Abruptly he let go, stepping back. All business again, he carefully slipped the ring back on his dead husband’s finger, gently setting it back into the crate it had come from. Once the crate was closed, he placed his hand atop it, turning to smile calmly at Leon. “I hope you’re ready for the operation. I assure you, I employ only top of the line surgeons. They will take such good care of you.”
“Operation?” Leon choked out, feeling like his entire world was tilted off axis. “…surgeons?”
Arias looked at him as if he was a child, before patronizingly explaining. “Operation, yes. To replace your arm with Sean’s.”
The way he said it was so matter of fact, like it was a given and anyone should’ve seen it coming, and it creeped Leon out more than anything else. He knew he looked spooked, probably pale as chalk, and he simply couldn’t control his expression enough to even cover up his shock.
“Of course, for that to be possible,” Arias went on conversationally. “We’re going to have to inject you with the new, stronger strain of my virus. I mean,” he smiled indulgently, “we cannot risk the possibility that your body might reject the arm.” He walked closer again, running his finger up Leon’s neck, all the way to his chin where he nudged it a little, made Leon close his mouth. “And if we did the virus right… I will be able to control your every move.”
With a hum, Arias turned to leave. “Yes. So happy together, indeed.”
Leon was left staring after him, dread creeping up his spine. Hopefully Chris knew where he was and was planning something, because his odds for getting out of here on his own were getting considerably slimmer. He let his eyes fall shut, took a deep breath, then another one, forcing himself to calm down. “Chris,” he muttered to himself, “you’d better get here quick.”
He wasn’t going to just lie down and take it, though. He’d do his damnest to get out of here, with help or without.
In all honesty, Leon wasn’t sure how long he’d spent in the room tied to the chair, staring at Arias’ wedding photograph on the wall and trying to free himself of his bounds. He didn’t know how the ropes were attached to the chair but he simply couldn’t get out of them no matter how much he struggled. All he managed was to knock his chair down, hitting his head painfully in the process, and he spent a good moment just breathing through the hurt and cursing himself out for being so useless.
At some point six men in full combat gear entered the room, wordlessly lifting his chair up. Three of them held him still, as much as he struggled, while two of them stood a bit further with their guns drawn. The last one pulled some kind of a syringe out, plunging the needle into Leon’s neck.
That was the last thing Leon registered before everything went black.
*
When Leon came to, he wasn’t tied down to a chair anymore. This time he was strapped onto a table, restraints going over his chest and his legs, his right arm pinned alongside his torso and held down by the same straps. There was one around his throat, too, so tight it was uncomfortable to swallow but not tight enough to restrict his airflow in any way. His left arm was pinned separately, a needle going in at his elbow, attached to what probably was a saline drip for now.
Slowly Leon tried to move, only to notice he was hardly able to even shift in his place. All he could do was wriggle his toes and fingers, more or less, and turn his head to the side. He was still wearing the suit pants, but his torso was bare as he’d been stripped of the jacket and the shirt. What really got to him was the black dotted line drawn around his arm at his bicep. It sent chills down his spine, knowing that was where they intended to cut off his arm to attach—
No, he refused to think about it.
“Oh good,” came an unfortunately familiar voice. “You finally decided to join us.”
“Sorry for the wait,” Leon said dryly, his voice a raspy croak. “I was a bit tied up.”
Arias stepped next to him, placing his hand on Leon’s stomach. Muscles straining, Leon tried to avoid the touch, but there was nowhere for him to go and he had no other option but to stay still and try to ignore the way Arias was slowly moving his fingers, as if in a caress. He didn’t even seem to notice he was doing it, truthfully, as he only stared at Leon’s arm and the IV drip.
“It’s time,” Arias said to someone outside Leon’s field of vision, before turning to smile at Leon. “The virus needs at least half an hour to spread before we can begin the operation,” he explained, sliding his palm from Leon’s abdomen to his side. “Be good and let it happen. It’ll hurt less if you’ll just let it in.”
Leon was already about to scoff incredulously, but suddenly his veins were like on fire. The scoff turned into a scream, as he was injected with what was undoubtedly the virus Arias had been talking about. It was like molten lava was pushed into his veins and like it was burning him up from the inside, and if it hadn’t been for the restraints holding him down he would’ve arched right off the table as he thrashed in agony.
Yet the worst part was Arias’ cool hand on his forehead, a twisted imitation of comfort. “Soon you will be ready,” Arias cooed, stroking Leon’s forehead gently, even brushing a strand of hair to the side. “You’re being so brave about this, my love. So incredibly brave.”
As much as Leon would’ve wanted to yell at him, to tell him off, to spit in his face… all he could do was grit his teeth and bite back the pained shouts. Eventually it faded, lessened to a dull ache instead, but Leon was so exhausted he had to focus on breathing and even that felt like too much work right now. Distantly he felt Arias still stroking his forehead, but he didn’t even have the energy to get angry about it.
He wasn’t sure if he was only imagining but he could’ve sworn he felt the virus move through his circulation, could feel it travel along the larger veins and then the smaller ones, spreading into every part of his body. It wasn’t very unlike what it had been with the plaga back in Spain, and a spike of panic flashed through him at the thought. He remembered how it was like to watch his own hands strangle someone without his own consent. He remembered how it was to be stripped of his own free will, even if only momentarily.
That was not something he could live with.
Stubbornly refusing to show any signs of weakness, at least as much as he could avoid them, Leon bit back the tears of frustration that really, really wanted to break free. He swallowed down his feelings of uselessness, the toothless rage that had no way out right now. Then he thought of Chris, thought of how he was probably ready to tear this place down with his teeth to get to Leon. And that was the lifeline he clung to. Chris would get here on time, Chris would find him, and then they could get the vaccine Arias had developed himself.
Everything would be fine. Just fine.
If only Chris would get here.
*
“Leon! Leon! C’mon, Leon, please wake up, don’t do this to me.”
The words were like spoken underwater and Leon tried his best to focus on them. Why, he couldn’t even tell at first, as every single time Arias had come in the room to speak to him he’d just tuned him out and tried to ignore him the best he could. Arias kept cooing at him, which was annoying, but he also kept touching him and Leon didn’t want to feel those fingers on his skin even if it was only a brush on his shoulder or a pat on his chest.
So when he felt a hand on his face, cupping his cheek, his first instinct was to twist away from it with a groan. There was something strangely familiar in the voice calling out for him, and that was what made him finally force his eyes open and blink against the bright lights to make them work.
And as soon as he did, a rush of relief hit him.
“Leon,” Chris said, smiling tentatively. Worry was clear in his eyes, his hand on Leon’s cheek shaking, but he tried to put up a brave face and Leon couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming surge of affection because of that. “I’m going to get you out of these straps, okay? And then I’m taking you out of here.”
With great effort, Leon nodded. The infection had been spreading, making him feel heavy in the head and his focus was slipping already. His tongue felt thick, speaking difficult, and he wasn’t sure how much he slurred when he forced the most urgent question out. “My arm? Do I have my arm?”
The look Chris gave him was strange, and for a second Leon panicked. So they had already operated, while he’d been unconscious, his arm had been cut off and he’d never be back to how he was, never, and it— He choked on a sob, and that spurred Chris into action immediately. “You have your arms, Leon, both of them,” he assured, and as if to underline it he grabbed Leon’s hands, one in each of his own, squeezing them tight. “You feel that? You have arms.” He obviously didn’t really understand where the urgency was coming from, but he hurried to reassure Leon anyway.
The handholding helped, and Leon took a deep breath, followed by another. He still hurt, and everything felt strangely like it happened in slow motion, but at least he wasn’t alone anymore. Maybe he clung onto Chris’ hands a little too tight even when Chris gently pulled back from his grip, but he was feeling so shaken he figured he deserved it. Soon enough Chris had managed to undo the straps holding him in place, and was already helping him up on his feet.
It became obvious within the first two steps that Leon wasn’t going to be able to walk on his own. Chris wrapped an arm around him, supporting his weight, and Leon did his very best to move his legs. His thoughts weren’t the only thing that felt sluggish, as every single movement was like moving through molasses. With all of his strength he clung onto Chris, trying not to be only dead weight for him.
They made their way through the building and onto the roof, hurrying towards where Chris said the vaccine was being held. He had a timer he kept glancing at, but when Leon slurred out a question about it he just gave him a tight-lipped smile and brushed it off.
Before they got to the vaccine they were stopped by a swarm of bullets fired right at them. Chris ducked them around a corner in time, but it caused them to stumble and fall kind of painfully into a heap of limbs. Cursing, Chris straightened, helping Leon to sit up so he was leaning against the wall. “You okay?” Chris asked, but there was no time for a reply before they were interrupted.
“You really think you can waltz in here and steal my fiancé!?” Arias yelled at them across the roof. “The wedding is happening, whether you want it or not, Redfield!” As if to underline his words he hit them with a burst of gunfire, even if it only hit the wall they were hiding behind.
Chris grumbled, and even as foggy as his mind was Leon could see he was about to launch himself right at Arias despite the fact that he’d get shot in the process. So he grabbed Chris’ arm, squeezing as hard as he possibly could. “Chris, no,” he shook his head, hoping Chris understood what he meant. “Be clever.” He knew that Chris could do this, knew he had the skills and everything he needed to take down Arias. But there could be no rushing in heedlessly.
“Trust me,” Chris said, ducking further behind the wall so that they were better sheltered from Arias’ bullets. “I will be careful. But I also need to leave you here.” He looked at Leon, grimacing apologetically. “You’re in no condition to walk, and if I try to carry—”
“I know, I know,” Leon hurried to interrupt him. He tried to raise his hand to press a finger on Chris’ lips to shut him up, but he ended up just vaguely waving his hand towards him. Everything hurt, and his mind was not cooperating with him. He would just be in the way if he’d try to follow Chris into that fight.
“I’ll be back soon,” Chris said firmly. Quickly he pulled a handgun from its holster, checking the magazine, before holding it out for Leon. “Here. So you can defend yourself.”
“No,” Leon said before his mind even properly registered what was going on. I will be able to control your every move. Control. Every move. Arias’ words echoed in his head, and with a shudder he yanked his hand back as if the gun had burned. “No.”
“C’mon, Leon,” Chris said, frustrated. He grabbed Leon’s wrist so he could press the gun in his palm. “I can’t guarantee someone working for him, or one of the zombies, or… I don’t know, Arias himself, gets past me. Just take the gun. I have another one.”
“No!” Leon cried out, so loud that Arias no doubt heard him, too. He dropped the gun, squeezed his hands into fists, and when Chris tried to hand him the gun again, he shook his head frantically. “No no no I can’t, Chris, don’t make me.” All he could think of was how in Spain the plaga had made him attack Ada, how he hadn’t been able to stop himself from trying to hurt her. If he’d do that to Chris? If he’d end up shooting Chris because Arias somehow got in his head? He’d never be able to live with himself, after.
The look Chris gave him was odd, and he probably didn’t understand. But thankfully he didn’t push, either, and instead nodded slowly and holstered the gun again. “I’ll be back soon. And the Dagger should be close behind.” He reached out and grabbed the back of Leon’s head, pulling him in so he could press a kiss against his forehead. “Hang in there. We’ll be okay.”
With that, he scrambled up and was off. Leon slumped against the wall, squeezing his eyes shut. It was killing him that he couldn’t help, couldn’t put a bullet into Arias’ head himself. But he trusted Chris, he trusted Chris’ team, and so he tried to focus on deep breaths.
The virus was still burning through his veins, and as much as he tried, he couldn’t cling on to his consciousness for long.
*
In all honesty Leon wasn’t certain if he’d passed out or if he’d just been disoriented from the infection, but the next time he was aware of his surroundings he was lying on the floor in what looked like a dark closet, no windows and only one door that was ajar enough to let some light flood in. Someone was holding a clear mask on his face, making him breathe in a foul smelling gas. Considering what he’d been subjected to, Leon’s first reaction was to struggle, and he tried to weakly slap the mask off his face.
“No, Leon, calm down,” came a familiar voice. “It’s me. You’re safe.” As soon as Leon managed to focus his gaze properly he recognized Rebecca, who was giving him an encouraging smile. He struggled to say something, but she predicted his question and hurried to answer it before he even got a word out. “Chris is wrapping things up. He’s going to be here any minute, just relax.”
As calm as she sounded, that wasn’t the whole truth, Leon could tell. Yet he’d already long ago decided he needed to trust Chris, so he forced himself to breathe in deep, making a conscious effort to relax. Every part of him still hurt, a persistent ache that was gnawing at his bones, making him want to dig his fingers right through his flesh to get to it.
It felt like forever that they stayed there, Leon lying on the ground and Rebecca kneeling beside him, holding the mask to his face and lightly holding her palm on his shoulder. The touch made Leon think of Arias, and how he’d been running his hands all over him, and he couldn’t suppress the disgusted shudder that rolled through him like a wave. Suddenly he felt nauseated, but he squeezed his hands into fists hard enough for his nails to dig into his palms, steeling himself to weather it.
Finally there were loud footsteps approaching, and Leon knew without looking that it was Chris. As expected, a moment later the door slammed open wider, Chris rushing in. He practically fell down on his knees next to Leon, gently brushing his fingers over his forehead. “Hey,” he offered with a wan smile, “sorry for taking so long.”
Immediately after seeing Leon was at least conscious, Chris looked up at Rebecca. “How much longer does he need to keep breathing it?”
Leon was looking straight at Chris and even from this angle it was easy to see how his face fell. Rebecca didn’t even say anything, but her expression must’ve spoken volumes, as Chris went from hopeful to entirely crushed in the span of half a second. “No, you can’t—”
Gathering all of his strength, Leon reached up, pulling the mask off his face. Chris tried to stop him, but he slapped Chris’ hand away, awkwardly grabbing onto it the best he could. “Shoot me,” he croaked out, his voice barely audible. He searched for Chris’ eyes feverishly, desperate to get him to understand. “Before I turn,” he went on, voice still scratchy but a little stronger than before.
“No!” Chris cried immediately. He looked so broken that he must’ve known on some level that Leon was right, even if he wasn’t willing to acknowledge it yet.
“Shoot me, Chris,” Leon repeated, insistent. “Please.”
Again Chris geared up to argue, but Rebecca was the one who got there first. “No one’s shooting anyone!” she snapped. She gave Chris a stern look but when she went on, she was glaring at Leon, clearly addressing him. “No one gets shot. The vaccine seems to be slowing down your infection, at least. And in my lab, I can make it stronger.”
For a moment Rebecca and Leon stared at each other, neither willing to back down. Then her expression softened slightly. “Let me at least try to save you.”
Grasping Chris’ hand like a lifeline, Leon took a second to process. He wanted, so badly, to trust her and believe that she would find a cure for this before it would be too late. At the same time he felt the infection spreading, and he was so tired of trying to fight it, so tired, he didn’t know how much fight he had left in him. But he hadn’t come this far just to give in.
So he nodded.
*
Drowsy and lethargic, Leon let his head loll to the side to stare at the IV drip connected to his arm. He was at least lying in a hospital bed by now instead of the hard floor at Arias’ building, leaning back on a mountain of pillows that kept his shoulders elevated to make breathing easier for him. Apparently the vaccine in its gaseous form had been more than enough to reverse the infection in those who had been infected with the primary version of the virus.
What Leon had been given was a different strain, like Arias had promised. And it continued being resistant to the vaccine even when Rebecca had changed it into a liquidized form that was supposedly more potent. All it did was slow down the infection, which wasn’t a bad thing but it also did mean that Leon was steadily getting worse, instead of better.
“Hey,” Chris said softly. He’d been napping on the couch set by the wall, but now that he noticed Leon was awake he moved to sit in the chair set next to the bed. He reached out, grabbing Leon’s hand in his own, lacing their fingers. “How’re you holding up?”
“Still here,” Leon answered, his voice raspy from the lack of use. He felt a little more clearheaded with the drip, but every breath was still laborious and he felt like he was simultaneously burning up from the inside and freezing to death.
He didn’t want to die. But he was fairly certain that was where he was headed.
“Look, Chris,” he sighed, searching for Chris’ eyes with his own. “I know it’s asking a lot—”
“Please, Leon, don’t,” Chris cut in, stopping him before he even got the words out. He leaned closer, so earnest and hopeful that Leon didn’t have the heart to argue. “I will do it if it needs to be done,” he said, clearly unhappy about it. But they’d known each other for so long, had had conversations similar to this more than once, and they both knew that the worst fate to either one of them would be to succumb to one of the viruses they’d fought their entire adult lives. “I will do it,” Chris repeated, “but not a minute earlier.”
Slowly Leon nodded. He let his eyes slip shut, the tiredness overwhelming, but before he fell asleep he forced them open again and tried to focus on Chris. “Don’t blame yourself.”
“I’m not—” Chris started to protest, but he cut himself off, embarrassed. There was no use trying to lie to Leon, anyway. Drugged half out of his mind or not, he knew Chris, better than anyone. “I shouldn’t have let him get you in the first place. I wasn’t… I fucked up. And that piece of shit—” It was visible how Chris’ temper flared at the mere thought of Arias, as well as how he reeled himself in, taking a deep breath.
“Hey,” Leon said, softly, barely audibly. Once Chris looked up he smiled at him, the best he could. “I love you.” He had to collect himself and to hold his breath against a wave of pain, but then he forced himself to go on. “This is,” he said, pausing for breath, “not on you.” His heart was breaking for Chris, how he knew he’d be blaming himself forever for it even though it wasn’t his fault.
It had always been clear that it’d be harder on the one left behind. And right now, Chris looked the part. There were tears already beading in his eyes, a downwards twist to his mouth although he was trying to pinch his lips together tight to suppress it. He was clearly about to cry, and Leon couldn’t handle it. He gathered his strength and slowly reached out, pushing his fingers in Chris’ short hair. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “It’s okay to let go.”
It was like a cord was snapped and Chris fell forward. He buried his face against Leon’s side, his shoulders shaking with his sobs.
Slowly Leon kept stroking his hair, trying to offer any modicum of comfort he possibly could.
*
The first thought that hit Leon when he blinked his eyes open was that everything was too bright. The second one was that he was hungry, so damn hungry, like he hadn’t eaten in a week. Only the third thought was surprise at the fact that he opened his eyes at all. Slowly and steadily his breathing had been getting more laborious, every single inhalation painful, and he’d barely even registered it when Rebecca had appeared in the room to change his drip.
After that, the pain had gotten even worse. He’d been shaking with it, so much that Chris had eventually squeezed himself into the hospital bed next to him, just to hold him. And the last conscious thought Leon remembered was thinking that it was not so bad to die like this, with Chris’ arms around him.
Now Chris was sitting next to the bed, even though he was still holding Leon’s hand in his own, playing with his fingers idly. When he realized that Leon was awake he smiled at him, eyes rimmed red and exhaustion written all over his features. “Welcome back,” he said, and although his voice cracked he was so obviously relieved that there was only one real explanation for it.
“So,” Leon drawled, flipping his hand so that he could catch Chris’ properly, twine their fingers together. “I’m not dying anymore?”
“No,” Chris confirmed it, squeezing Leon’s hand tight. “You’re officially infection free. It took Rebecca three tries with the cure, but now she says your vitals are normal, the bloodwork is normal, and there’s no sign of the infection anymore.” He turned a little more serious, even if he couldn’t entirely get rid of the smile that was like stuck on his face. “Never do this to me ever again.”
They both knew it wasn’t a realistic promise to make, not for them, but Leon offered a smile, anyway. “I’ll try my best?”
“Damn right you will,” Chris agreed with a nod. Finally he got off his chair, shifting closer so he could lean over Leon. “I’m never letting you out of my sight again.”
He kissed the laughter right off Leon’s lips.