Work Text:
Mrs. Smith was a damn good teacher.
It didn’t matter that her classroom was housed in the BSAA’s New York headquarters. If anything, she liked to think that was a selling point; every year she was able to take her students on field trips to the many sites around the city. They got to be tourists in their own home.
Her favorite excursion by far was the one to the United Nations building. Her wards were the children of the BSAA’s many operatives, field agents and corporate officers stationed at the North American branch. Nothing compared to watching her students’ delight at seeing their parents in such an amazing place.
That wasn’t exactly possible this year.
The newest student of the bunch was a tiny girl named Rosemary Winters. The child was lovely. She was quiet but playful, perfectly fine with working alone or running around with her friends. Rose – as she adamantly preferred to be called – liked to have her light blonde hair braided with colorful hair ties and bows and was insistent on wearing a necklace with a ring. Whenever Mrs. Smith asked about it, the girl would frown and her light eyes would almost clinically search the teacher’s face before she shrugged and said it was important and hers and was it snack time yet?
Luckily, Mrs. Smith also knew when to stop pushing.
Her own wife was a field agent. There were times when she knew to stop asking and move the topic to something else. The ring was something sensitive, even to this little girl.
Rosemary wasn’t like her other students. The others would be dropped off in the morning by whichever parent could make the trip. They would hug, kiss and say their goodbyes.
Whenever the Winters family arrived, it was different. Mrs. Winters was silent the first time she came, holding her daughter’s hand so tightly the child eventually complained. The woman flitted around her daughter, checking her backpack and smoothing out her hair.
Two agents in dark suits and sunglasses flanked them both. Mrs. Smith was told to be aware of that.
She introduced herself to them both before Rose shot off to play on the other side of the room. Mrs. Winters thanked her profusely for accepting her daughter into the class. Mrs. Smith had smiled and assured her that Rose would have as normal of a school day as the rest of the children. It was only Pre-K after all.
The class was assigned two ‘extra assistant teachers’ to help Mrs. Smith with the additional students. It was obvious who they were really there for though, and while they hid them well, Mrs. Smith could spot their concealed weapons from a mile away.
Like always, she didn’t ask and instead made sure Rose felt like any other kid. Sure, it was a little different, but Mrs. Smith was nothing if not adaptable. Her wife came with her for each of her health screenings at the end of every week and the nurse was able to discreetly monitor the children for any alterations in their behavior.
Earlier, when she’d requested a day to the UN building as she did every year, she was explicitly and flatly told that no, that wouldn’t be happening this year. Rose was the primary concern and the teacher was loath to leave one child out. That simply wasn’t an option.
Instead, she pivoted to secretly inviting the parents to visit the class. All were fine with the change – relieved, even, that they didn’t have to worry about their kids storming a very official building – and replied that they would be there.
Mia Winters was the last to respond. She’d hesitated at the door when she came to pick up Rose, her eyes flickering to the agents beside her. Would it be alright if she brought someone with her?
Mrs. Smith assumed she meant the operatives. It was fine – the more the merrier! If it made Rose feel more normal or safe, that was what mattered.
At first, she believed her initial assumption was correct. The man that came with Mrs. Winters was clearly an agent. She could easily spot his concealed weapons – she was no newcomer to this world – and the way he held himself was enough of an indication. The man feigned nonchalance, but his startlingly bright blue eyes assessed her in a way normal parents didn’t. Like Mrs. Smith, he was searching her for weapons, for a threat.
Well, he wouldn’t find any. She was armed with chalk and play-doh and little else. With all the operatives assigned to her little class, anything more was hardly necessary.
Something about him didn’t come off as BSAA, though. Forget about the lack of a badge or an emblem; there was just something about the man that seemed different. He was polite enough, though. Shook her hand when it was offered, nodded politely as she introduced herself.
“This is Leon,” Mia said brightly, a hand on the man’s shoulder.
Mrs. Smith nodded. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Winters.”
Both of their expressions shuttered. The teacher wasn’t sure what she said to elicit such a reaction, but she didn’t have long to dwell on it. Between the throngs of parents visiting at the children’s delighted squeals, it was hard to hear much of anything.
“Mommy! Papa!”
Thankfully, Rose was oblivious to the tense moment and barreled across the room into her mother’s arms. Mia laughed and picked the girl up, giving her forehead a smooch.
“Hey, kiddo,” Leon murmured, reaching over to ruffle her hair. “We came to see what you’re doing. Learning tons of new things?”
Rose beamed at him. “I know lots,” she declared proudly. “I’m drawing. Wanna draw with me?”
The minute she was set down Rose grabbed both Leon and Mia’s hands, tugging them to her desk on the far end of the room. While Rose was social enough, she loved her alone time. She’d claimed the small table that teetered and swayed since none of the other students wanted it. When she was done doing group work or just wanted to sit by herself, she’d retreat to the old, wobbly table and work alone.
Mrs. Smith tried to ignore how the agents assigned to her classroom seemed to only pay attention to the Winters table in particular. She’d have to speak with them later about at least pretending that Rose wasn’t the sole reason for their being there.
The other students were all mostly settled, each showing their parents their favorite toys or the projects they were working on. Mrs. Smith had asked the parents to bring a photo of themselves and their children so they could all make a frame for the picture. Every year the kids delighted in showing their artistic talents to their guardians and Mrs. Smith would even deal with cleaning up dried piles of glitter glue just to make sure they were having a good time.
While observing a few of the other students, she couldn’t help but overhear Mrs. Winters talking quietly as she watched her daughter get to work.
“I don’t know... Something’s telling me she’s going to be upset you two aren’t in this,” she mumbled grudgingly.
Leon didn’t seem to share her worries. “There isn’t a photo of all five of us, mainly because I never actually met Ethan. It’ll mean more to her to have a picture of him, even if the guy couldn’t take a good photo to save his life.”
Mia grimaced. “He’s just – he was camera shy, that’s all.”
“Whatever. Either way, she probably won’t notice if you don’t say anything.”
“She ‘won’t notice?’ Leon, she cried for two days straight the last time you shipped out because ‘Papa reads to me at night.’ Apparently, I don’t use the right voices.”
“Rookie move,” he snickered with a crooked grin. “I also give the characters backstories. Gotta keep your girl on her toes, Mia. It’s all about the experience.” He waggled his fingers at her with a flourish.
The mother rolled her eyes and huffed, shooting a sideways glance at her daughter. “She’s at least going to bury me in questions. Hope you’re ready to answer them, because you’re the one who insisted I bring this picture.”
“Oh, yeah. I’ve got this. I’ve been speaking fluent bullshit since I started working for the government. You should’ve seen me at my prime.”
“No need. With the way Hunnigan sounds every time she has to pick up when you call her, I have an idea.”
Leon scoffed. “She loves me, she just has to pretend she’s sick of me so the other agents don’t get jealous.”
“I’m sure.”
A few other students asked for Mrs. Smith’s help, so she left the group alone. She could still feel Leon’s eyes on her as she moved around the room. He wasn’t judgmental or unnerving, just... observant. Like he was making sure she was a decent human being and not just some BSAA operative that drew the short stick and got stuck with Rose as a student.
Mrs. Winters, on the other hand, seemed to be more relaxed than any other time she came to the makeshift classroom. The agents still lingered at the edges of the class, always there, but she shrugged them off to focus on Rose’s increasingly complex art project and Leon’s chatter.
“Mrs. Smith!” Rose called, knocking her out of her musings. She was perched on a stool, steadfastly applying glue and feathers to one student’s popsicle stick frame. Glancing up, she saw the girl gesturing to the seat next to her.
Mrs. Smith dutifully handed the student’s artwork back before joining the Winters table.
“Now what do we have here?”
“Mommy put too much glitter,” the girl fussed. The popsicle stick frame held together but was now almost blinding to look at. Rose scowled. “Dad wouldn’t like it. It’s for dad.”
“Dad loved my art projects, Rose.” Mia said, but didn’t look too bothered. “He loved glitter. Show Mrs. Smith the picture.”
Rose brightened and very carefully lifted the photograph, handling it as if it were something precious. Just as she was about to show it, the classroom’s door opened and every agent in the room snapped to attention.
“Director!”
Mrs. Smith struggled to her feet, cursing herself for making the attempt to squeeze into the tiny chair next to Rose’s. Here she was, clambering to her feet with a neon green chair stuck to her ass as the new Director of the BSAA came in. They’d met briefly before – very, very briefly – and this was not how she envisioned their second meeting going.
Chris Redfield looked like he just walked straight off of a battlefield and in through their door. His black coat was torn and ripped in places, though the damage wasn’t too bad. The bandages Mrs. Smith could just barely see underneath the gashes hid most of the injuries. Luckily for him, his black turtleneck and pants did wonders for hiding any possible blood stains and a majority of the grime on him. There was only a slight limp in his step that betrayed his projected image of decent health. Luckily for him, only people familiar with their line of work would notice. The civilians in the room would have no idea.
“Daddy!”
Mrs. Smith’s jaw dropped as Rose sprinted past her and flung herself at the Director who, for his part, took the tackle in stride and only gave a quiet grunt of discomfort. He hid it with a broad smile.
“Hey, Rosebud! C’mere.”
Just like that, the girl was tucked under his arm like a football, squealing with delight as he marched over to Mia and Leon. Mrs. Smith gaped at the entire scene, watching dumbly as the man gave Rose a big smooch on her forehead before setting her down.
“Sarah. It’s nice to see you again. I hope Nadia’s doing well.”
Mrs. Smith finally remembered how to talk. “I – yes! Yes, Nadia’s doing great. Her promotion to captain really made her year, Director Redfield.”
He made a face at the title. “God, don’t call me that. Just Chris is fine. Still not used to that.”
Chris Redfield was made Director of the BSAA after his decimation of the old leadership. Sarah didn’t know all of the details – not even her wife, Nadia, who worked with Chris during his time heading the Silver Daggers knew all of it – but what she’d heard was telling. After dealing with an entire town thoroughly contaminated with a bioweapon in Europe, Captain Redfield and the elite team he’d stolen for the event, the Hound Wolf Squad, found out that the BSAA was employing the use of BOWs.
The implications were damning. The organization that was internationally known for dealing with bioweapon threats was now using the very thing they aimed to destroy. Were they infecting their own soldiers? Making new ones?
In the end, it hardly mattered. Redfield tore a path of destruction straight to the European headquarters by calling on every high-level agent he knew. Jill Valentine and Carlos Oliveira, the Silver Daggers, Rebecca Chambers, the Hound Wolf Squad... The list just went on and on. There were even rumors that the DSO got involved. One particular piece of gossip was that the man who wrote the Kennedy Report even made an appearance.
By the time Chris was done, the European HQ was little more than a smoldering pile of rubble. The BSAA’s name and reputation were in tatters and an entire branch of the organization had fallen. Other branches were being investigated to root out anyone involved in the leadership’s actions.
Then that left the question of who would actually lead the organization. There weren’t that many who were even willing, too focused on keeping their own branches from completely disintegrating.
When the highest ranking officials in each branch left standing were asked who they would nominate, only one name was thrown into the ring.
Chris Redfield was a natural fit. He’d been in the field for almost half of his life and was known worldwide as one of the best agents in the war against bioterrorism. Only a handful of people had the high-level clearance Chris did, and even less were living founders of the organization. He was highly intelligent, beloved by those who worked with him and was known to care for the people in his employ.
It would never even occur to him to make weapons out of his colleagues, which was pretty much the only qualifying thing they were looking for at that point. All of his other accolades were just gravy.
He’d been bewildered when he was nominated. The entire organization was watching the meeting, broadcast online and all over the world so every agent could see what was happening. The former field captain even tried to nominate some other names for consideration, but those people chimed in saying they felt Chris was the best for the job.
He wasn’t getting out of this one.
Chris was named the next Director that night.
Immediately, things shifted. He was moving back to the United States to deal with some personal matters, so the new HQ for the entire organization would be located in their New York offices close to the UN building. The man would still be deployed on high-risk missions, an area he absolutely refused to budge on; the last leaders turned to making their own soldiers weapons because they weren’t on the field facing those horrors. Chris wanted to make sure he never forgot what they were up against, what his people were giving their lives for.
Given that the surviving leaders didn’t have enough high-level operatives to spare, they relented. Chris Redfield wasn’t meant to be a sit-in Director.
Jill Valentine and the newly-minted BSAA operative Carlos Oliveira were dispatched to oversee the European branch’s rebuilding. Carlos was widely popular with the new recruits and quickly won over their hearts. Jill, on the other hand, dazzled them with her skills. Sometimes it was hard to tell who was more impressed; the new people, just learning the ropes, or her adoring boyfriend who was also supposed to be training them.
The BSAA took a hard fall with Chris’s coup. Only with his help, though, was it able to get up stronger than before.
Despite Chris contacting Mrs. Smith directly to tell her about Rosemary Winters, somehow, she hadn’t connected the dots. How could she have known that Rose was his? She thought that the family were maybe just infected survivors under the BSAA’s protection.
The edges of Leon’s lips curled up into a grin, though it looked like he was trying his hardest to keep his expression neutral as Rose instructed Chris on where exactly to put the pink glitter. “You weren’t supposed to be back for a month. How the he- uh, heck did you pull this off?”
Chris looked up with a smirk. “By blowing a lot of things up.” He leaned down to whisper loudly to Rose, “But you didn’t hear that from me.”
The girl giggled and the Director looked more delighted than Mrs. Smith had ever seen him. Her eyes flicked between the two men – were they friends? She didn’t exactly understand what was going on but hardly found it her place to intrude.
So, Leon was Papa and Chris was Daddy to Rose. Mia never came with either of them when she picked her daughter up from class.
Mrs. Smith excused herself to go sit at her desk for a minute. She was tempted to text Nadia – her wife never told her about this and she could’ve used the heads up from the former Silver Daggers member – but refrained. That probably wouldn’t be too professional.
The families were all in their little bubbles happily doing their projects. Most of them stopped staring at Chris at this point, even if the agents assigned to the classroom were standing a little straighter than they were before.
“Sorry about this.”
Mia was in front of her desk with an apologetic smile. Her hair, carefully brushed over one shoulder, did a good job of hiding most of her expression in shadow. Mrs. Smith wondered if that was done on purpose.
“About what?” she asked. Sure, it was a surprise, but not a big deal. With a wife like Nadia, she’d dealt with weirder situations before.
Mia glanced back at her table. Leon noticed that Chris had a cut on his cheek just as a bead of blood gathered at the edge of it. Chris, about to wipe it off with the back of his gloved hand, was shooed away by Rose, armed with a bright pink Hello-Kitty bandage. It went firmly across his cheek.
Even from here, Mrs. Smith couldn’t miss the fond looks Rose got from both men.
“This is the photo we’re using,” Mia said, sliding the picture over the desk.
A family on the beach. More specifically, Mia, a baby who was obviously a pudgy-cheeked Rose, and a man whose shoulders she was perched on. She saw Mia and Rose’s faces clearly, but the man’s was almost entirely hidden in shadow. She could see the edges of a mischievous smile and an eye glinting in the light, dusty blond hair between Rose’s fingers. A family at the beach at sunset.
“That’s my husband, Ethan,” Mia explained, eyes far away even as she glanced down at the picture. “He died a few years ago, not too long after Rose’s half-birthday. I think he would’ve liked to have been here for this, so he should get a photo. It was hard to find a good one, though. He was camera shy.”
Mrs. Smith nodded, glad that Mia cleared that bit up. Rose looked neither like Chris nor Leon. She had her father’s hair and eyes.
Both women’s eyes were drawn across the room to the family’s table again.
“Chris was... he helped us out of a few situations. Oversaw our transition to the BSAA’s version of witness protection and even moved with us when we relocated to Europe. He really... he tried his best with us. He tried. I think he took Ethan’s death really hard.”
Mia crossed her arms over her chest. Her eyes fell to the floor.
“I’m very sorry to hear that.”
The other woman shrugged. “I’ve had time to make my peace with it. Chris insisted on being there to help me with Rose, especially since her case was so... special. He was already her godfather. She knows Ethan is her father, but she sees Chris as a bonus dad. We both tried to get her to try ‘Uncle Chris’ or something like that, but she just ignored us. She’s so stubborn,” she chuckled.
“I noticed,” Mrs. Smith agreed. She hesitated, but decided to hell with it. They were apparently sharing stories anyway. “Is Leon your brother?”
Mia snorted and shook her head. “No, he’s not.” She paused then, looking amused, and raised a brow at the other woman. “His name is actually Leon S. Redfield now. When he’s in the field, he goes by DSO Agent Kennedy because he got too many questions about the ‘Redfield’ part.”
Mrs. Smith’s head was spinning. “Wait, wait,” she cried. “Chris is married? This Leon is the Leon Kennedy that my wife would not shut up about after the whole Arias thing?”
“Yup. I didn’t know Chris was even seeing anyone until Rose and I got back to the States. He told me he was engaged like, a week after we got back, then asked if I wanted to go out for lunch the week after that. Instead, he dragged me off to be his second witness. His sister was the other one.”
“So you didn’t even get lunch?”
Mia’s eyes were bright with laughter. “He gave me a twenty and told me to treat myself. Honestly, those two were so on top of each other that I took it as a win. I got a coffee and a sandwich, they got married and rushed off to figure out what they were going to do for a honeymoon. Totally equal.”
“Sounds like it.”
“I finally got to talk to Leon a few weeks later,” Mia continued. “Ever since, he’s been like a de facto uncle for Rose. Those two are so protective of her it’s crazy. I’m sorry they haven’t been around to talk to you, they are very involved with Rose and her special situation . It’s just that Chris was deployed overseas for the past month and a half on an investigation and I’m trying to stop Leon from obsessively watching the classroom...”
“Don’t worry. We get a lot of those types here,” Mrs. Smith assured her.
That was true. Most BSAA parents were rightly paranoid about their children’s safety. It wasn’t a surprise to hear that someone from the DSO was also itching to vet the place. Nadia ranted about the things Agent Kennedy did and his reputation in the field. After everything he’d seen, how could he not be just a little curious?
“Really, don’t worry. Rose has been wonderful and she obviously has very dedicated parents and guardians.” She smiled, eyes roaming back to the little girl currently demanding that Chris redo her braids because Leon couldn’t do it right. Leon looked mock-affronted and Chris nodded seriously, peeling his gloves off to diligently work on the little girl’s hair. She ignored his bloodied and bruised knuckles, happy enough with the moment.
“You should join your family. I’ll spend some time with the other students. Take some time to enjoy yourselves.”
Mrs. Smith lingered at her desk long enough to see Mia rejoin the table to her daughter’s happy giggles.
..-. --- --- .-.. .. ... .... / - --- --. . - .... . .-.
“Nadia’s going to kill you.”
Chris scoffed. “What, because of this? I just forgot to bring it up.”
“She is so going to kill you.”
That earned him a scowl. “It’s been a busy year! I promoted her to field captain, that has to mean something. She won’t care about this at all.”
“I think she’s going to open the side door to the plane and just throw you right out. That seems like something she’d be comfortable doing.”
“What, I don’t rank high enough for the sniper rail gun? Even Arias got that.”
Leon hummed, then shook his head with a tsk. “Nah. The rail gun’s for a threat. Nadia might be pissed at you for forgetting to tell her we got married, but she’s not worried about you or anything. You’re hardly dangerous.”
“Now you’re just insulting me. I bet there are some BOWs or Umbrella henchmen who would heartily disagree.”
“Oh, sure, big guy. You can tell that to Nadia when she throws you out of the plane.”
Despite Leon’s constant jabs, there was a bounce in his step. Today went better than he ever thought it would. When Mia suggested he come for the Parent Visit Day, he’d been skeptical; after all, how many people brought their friend’s husband who was in no way related to the child in question? The woman was smart, though, telling Leon it was his chance to get a look at the classroom. He hadn’t managed to spy on it before then.
Rose meant the world to him. More than that, she meant everything to Chris. If the older man couldn’t be there, how could Leon not go, knowing how desperately Chris wished he could attend?
So he made his grand appearance with the declaration he was there for Chris and not to grill the teacher and agents on how Rose was treated. Naturally Mia didn’t believe a word out of his mouth and kept a firm hand on his wrist even as they sat down.
But Chris? Chris was a surprise. Leon would’ve been more prepared to see William Birkin come crashing through those doors than Chris Redfield.
Once the class was over, Mia told them she was bringing Rose back to her quarters to make her something to eat and get her ready for bed. The men would head over to the offices in the building instead to finish some work before getting back to their own apartment.
Chris ignored his amazing jokes the rest of the way up to his office, rolling his eyes every once in a while just to prove he was listening.
The second the door shut behind him, Leon sprang. Regardless of Chris’s height, Leon was the one crowding him against the wall, one arm wound around his waist and the other hand fisted in his shirt to drag him into a bruising kiss. Didn’t matter how many times they did this, it always felt like the first.
Actually, no, the less said about their first kiss, the better. They’d been covered in grime and dirt and blood and were standing way too close to some BOW corpses for comfort. It’d been desperate and a spur of the moment thing that they didn’t talk about for weeks.
Well, until Claire started shouting in the middle of the diner over a month later that the sexual tension was making her uncomfortable and would they please talk about their feelings? Or sleep together? The make-out sessions after that were memorable for more favorable reasons.
Nevertheless, kissing Chris was always good. It’d been too long, always was whenever Chris was away, and he followed when the older man pulled back. Leon only stopped when Chris gave a quiet grunt of discomfort.
He murmured an apology against his lips and stepped back to look Chris over. “Sorry, sorry. What’s the damage?”
Chris grimaced as he rolled his shoulders and gingerly pressed a hand to his chest. “Don’t worry about it,” he grunted. “Bruised ribs.”
“That’s not nothing.”
“It’s also not as bad as it could be. Nothing’s broken this time around, but my shoulder’s acting up again. I probably can’t put that surgery off anymore.”
Leon frowned and glanced at his leg. “You were limping before.”
“Ankle’s still a little weak after that stint in Cambodia,” Chris said with a shrug. He shifted his weight onto the other leg. “You remember. Couldn’t walk for so damn long, I was ready to take that wheelchair and launch myself into the river.”
Of course, Leon remembered. Chris was insufferable when he was benched from missions, sulking around their apartment and practically breathing down Leon’s neck whenever he got intel.
“Yeah, ‘course. You were a fucking pain, Chris, it’s hard not to remember.”
Chris rolled his eyes at him. Nonplussed, Leon adjusted, now using both hands to cradle Chris’s cheeks in his hands. It was more likely than not that he looked like some sap head over heels for the other man. Could anyone blame him, though? Chris Redfield was the stuff of fantasies and Leon liked to remind him of that as many times as humanly possible.
What could he say? He liked watching Chris blush and stammer, so unlike the confident and collected operative he was on the field.
Chris’s cheeks and the tips of his ears went pink. Mission accomplished. He set a broad hand over one of Leon’s, thumb stroking comfortingly at his knuckles.
“I’m okay,” he murmured, eyes soft. Somehow Chris was trying to make Leon feel better. Leon liked to think he was mature enough to admit he needed it, needed to be sure that Chris was alive and alright – all things considered – and here. “I’m okay, Leon.”
Leon nodded and sighed, closing his eyes as he pressed his forehead to Chris’s. “I know. Glad to see you made it back in one piece.” He shifted, pressing his face into Chris’s neck as the older man wound his arms around Leon’s waist. “How the fuck did you get here? You weren’t due back for another three weeks.”
Chris shrugged lazily, seemingly content in taking the moment to hold the DSO agent close. “Like I said earlier, I blew a lot of shit up.”
“Okay, but how much? Like I said, you’re three weeks early. ”
“We used a lot of explosives.”
Leon eyed him suspiciously. “You let Lobo go ham with the big guns, didn’t you.”
Chris winced and nodded guiltily. “I may have let Lobo go nuts with the guns. In my defense, he said he’d be able to clear the area out in under four hours. He did it in forty minutes.”
Back when Chris was made Director of the BSAA, Leon was selfishly thrilled at the thought of him no longer being sent out on missions. He knew Chris thrived on the battlefield, but Leon couldn’t quash the uneasy feeling he had every time Chris was deployed.
Chris nearly died after the assault on the BSAA’s European HQ. How he survived the ordeal was beyond Leon. All he could remember was Chris’s skin boiling under his fingers with infection, Chris’s own hand pressed over his abdomen as the only thing stopping his guts from spilling to the floor. He’d been little more than meat and tubes by the time the medical team got to him. Rebecca Chambers had been by his side for the duration, explaining clearly to Leon and Claire what procedures he’d be going through and how she was working to expel the T-Virus from his body.
Leon was there for two out of the three times Chris’s heart gave out, too exhausted from the stress his body was putting on it to go on. He had to be dragged away from Chris kicking and screaming despite the knowledge that the doctors just needed their space to bring him back from the brink, because what if Chris died and Leon wasn’t there with him? He’d be alone or worse, surrounded by strangers. Nobody who really cared about him would be with him in the end.
The one time he hadn’t been there, resting in Chris’s nearby apartment for just a few hours on Claire’s insistence, just a few, was such a traumatic memory that Leon had to keep it locked away in the deepest recesses of his mind.
That thought still made Leon squirm.
Chris’s recovery took ages. He’d lost weight and muscle mass after being in a coma for so long and had to relearn how to use his legs again. It wasn’t easy, not by any means, but Chris was determined. Nothing could stop him when he got like that.
Honestly, Leon didn’t stand a chance. How could he be anything but completely in love with this ridiculous man?
The DSO went from being kind and understanding about Leon’s predicament to threatening as the months dragged on. Leon threatened them right back. Hunnigan tried to reason with him, reminding him that Chris was on the mend and would be in physical therapy for months.
Leon countered with a sharp reminder that small things could send Chris spiraling. Hardly a week before he suffered a heart attack when his blood pressure went out of control out of the blue.
He wasn’t leaving until Chris was better. If the DSO had a problem with that, they were more than welcome to try to remove him from his side.
The government left him alone after that.
So, yeah, he wasn’t thrilled when Chris hesitantly explained that he’d still be going on missions. Sure, he was back in fighting shape and was still one of the organization’s best operatives, but Leon’s chest tightened anxiously at the thought of him going out again.
Chris wasn’t a young man anymore. His hair was just starting to grey and every time he was knocked down it took him longer to get back on his feet. Leon was loath to admit it, but he was terrified for the day Chris couldn’t get up anymore.
With the Hound Wolf Squad backing him up though, at least some of Leon’s worries were assuaged. They were the BSAA’s elite unit and fiercely loyal to their Captain. Sure, some of them were possibly insane, but they got the job done.
They brought Chris home. That was all Leon cared about in the end.
“It was worth it,” Chris said softly into Leon’s hair, tugging him out of his memories. “It was worth everything, just to see Rose’s face when I came in.”
Leon smiled, glad his expression was hidden. His eyes were stinging. “Yeah. You made that kid’s day.”
Here Leon thought his tenure as a dad ended with Sherry. With Chris and Mia, it looked like he was in for round two. The best part was that Leon loved it, loved that little girl to pieces. Chris was clearly her favorite between the three of them and he couldn’t even find it in him to care.
When he’d first heard of Mia and everything she’d done and been a part of, Leon honestly wanted nothing to do with her. The DSO agent had even gone so far as to advise Chris to let the brass at the BSAA handle her. After all, she was a willing participant with The Connections and her involvement made her a criminal. Her constant lying was getting people killed.
Meeting her made him feel differently.
The woman was newly widowed and just trying to make sure she and her daughter survived. She’d caught on to Leon’s judgmental looks and lifted her chin defiantly, snapping at him that she could understand watching her, but could he at least be a little discreet about it?
Ethan haunted her every waking moment. After a few months, she confided in Leon during a particularly weak moment, whispering that she was aware of the BSAA’s interest in bioweapons. They would’ve wanted him, she said, exhausted. He would’ve been a lab rat for the rest of his life. Rosemary, too. I’ve made so many fucking mistakes, but he gave his life to save Rose and I – I have to keep her safe and happy. I have to, for Ethan. The only way that happens is by sticking with Chris.
Mia acknowledged what she’d done and spent her time assisting the BSAA in tracking down The Connections and locating their labs. She was trying, and that was what mattered.
They weren’t your typical family, but Leon wouldn’t have it any other way.
Finally, he closed his eyes for just a moment and pressed his forehead to Chris’s, needing that contact. Chris obliged, slowly stepping away from the wall.
“So the whole place had to get blown?” Leon asked.
Chris nodded, his expression dark. “Yeah. No survivors this time around. The Mold’s tricky. Every time I think we’ve cleared it out, it pops up somewhere else.”
Leon thumbed at Chris’s cheek. “You did what you could. You tried.”
“I know. Never feels like it’s enough.” Chris looked him over then and raised a brow. “What about you, though? Thought the DSO would’ve forced you onto the field by now.”
Leon shrugged, looking away. “Turned down the last few missions and offered to do paperwork instead.”
“Oh? Any reason why?”
“Just didn’t feel like sitting on the plane for so long. Wrist’s still bothering me a little even though the cast came off a month ago, too. Besides, there are some younger operatives that move faster than me at this point. They need to start getting some actual experience.”
It was just a tiny lie. Okay, it was a lot of them all hastily grouped together. In all honesty, he wanted to be around to help Mia with Rose and to wait for Chris to come home. He hated the thought of the older man returning to an empty apartment, though he’d never admit it. Part of him was worried Chris would tell him to stop worrying and suck it up.
That was despite the knowledge that Chris would never, ever speak to him like that. When Leon was anxious about something, Chris didn’t tell him to just deal with it. They worked through the rough spots, anxiety and depression together.
Just another reason he needed to be there when the older Redfield returned.
“You’re the big cheese now. You should let me tag along for your mission, give me the official invite or something.” At Chris’s snort, Leon shot him an offended look. “What?”
“Look, I love going on missions with you. There’s hardly anyone out there as good as you are; that’s not my problem with it. I get distracted too easily when you’re with me – don’t give me that face! Do you remember our last mission together?”
Leon paused, cocking his head to the side and squinting at Chris suspiciously. “Uh, yeah... Peru, right?”
“Right.” That was almost a year ago already. Chris seemed amused. “Remember what we did there?”
“Took out an entire lab crawling with Tyrants and infected scientists. Still don’t see the problem here, Redfield.”
“Well, Mr. Redfield, do you remember getting stuck in that safe room on the premises?”
Leon quirked a brow. “Yeah, sure. Best part of the whole damn trip, getting you to myself for six hours while the rest of your team tried to figure out how to undo the locks and not become a pack of chew toys. What’s your point?”
“We had to be rescued on our own damn mission, Leon. By rookies. The Hound Wolf Squad didn’t accompany me for one operation and we got locked in the equivalent of a closet. That aside, they charged me for that cot we broke, you know.”
The DSO agent couldn’t help but snort at that. While Chris obviously didn’t think that night was a resounding victory, Leon would have argued it could’ve gone way worse. The job was to infiltrate and clear out a BSAA lab that some lunatic ex-Umbrella employee had taken over. Easy enough. They’d even convinced Rebecca to come along for the ride despite the woman’s loud protests.
Then, like the extremely skilled professionals they were, they managed to get locked inside the room some of the scientists used when they were logging long hours. All courtesy of an improperly labeled light switch and a paranoid engineer who heard about Umbrella’s Nap Room in Raccoon City.
Leon knew he should’ve kept his mouth shut about that.
Chris spent the first thirty minutes of their incarceration calmly giving his team orders through his comm. Took another fifteen to convince them that they really, really shouldn’t just try blowing through the door with explosives. Focus on the mission and come back for them when the lab was cleared out and the samples were retrieved.
So, they took advantage of their time together. Who wouldn’t? With Chris’s promotion came a barrage of work the older man clearly wasn’t expecting. Leon didn’t think he was a particularly needy person, but whenever he wasn’t on an active assignment Chris was out late most nights dealing with bureaucratic bullshit. In the beginning, it felt like they hardly saw each other anymore.
Leon was only human.
“They charged you? For the fucking cot?”
“Sure did,” Chris confirmed, a small smirk tugging at his lips.
“You’re the Director! Where do they get off charging you? ”
“You actually think our accountants give a shit about my position? I basically got the bill stapled to my forehead the second the plane landed. I’m just lucky they didn’t charge me for the doors they had to drill through.”
Fair enough.
Leon huffed, glancing at Chris through his hair. He was already on the move, limping to his desk and rifling through the stacks of paperwork before settling down in his chair with a relieved sigh. Chris was in a good mood. Apparently even piles of work wouldn’t ruin that.
“Got something for me?” Chris asked.
Leon blinked, trying to piece together what he wanted. He’d been so distracted by Chris’s cheery grin it took him a few extra minutes to understand what was being asked.
“Oh – yeah, I got it right here.”
With the top buttons of his shirt already undone, Leon was able to easily fish out the chain around his neck. He undid the clasp and slid the simple silver band into Chris’s waiting hand. Chris took it with an appreciative hum before returning Leon’s wedding ring.
It was one of the smaller things about their relationship that Leon loved and clung to. Whenever one– or both – of them were about to be shipped out on another impossible mission, they traded their rings. That way, they’d always have a piece of the other when they were apart.
Or if they didn’t come back.
Leon hastily shooed that pessimistic thought away. He had enough time to brood about those things when Chris was gone, there was no reason to obsess over it now. Chris was here , right in front of him, pulling off his leather gloves with a wince just to make sure his wedding band was back where it belonged. Leon followed suit, though his own set of fingerless gloves made the job easier.
“Your hair’s lighter,” Chris noted as Leon claimed the seat in front of the desk. “Feeling like being blond again?”
Leon hummed, “Not as light as it was during Spain, but yeah. I was aiming for dirty blond. I’ve been going natural since Colorado, felt like shaking things up a bit.” That and Chris was about two-thirds of his self-control and Leon got bored easily. He touched his hair. “Why, does it look bad?”
“No, no,” Chris assured him, eyes soft with something that seemed like fondness to Leon. “You just... it reminds me of how you looked after China. You look good.”
The lines around the man’s eyes deepened when he smiled and Leon had to bat away the part of him that was getting emotional with how much he loved that smile, loved how Chris wore the years so easily and so well.
Leon was suddenly on his feet and around the desk, pulling Chris to his feet and attempting to be conscious of any possible injuries.
“Come on,” he said with another firm and impatient tug. “Let’s go home. Save the paperwork for Monday, I’ll make something for dinner while you hit the shower.”
The Director got to his feet with little fuss after the explanation. He shooed Leon’s hand off of his arm to instead take hold of his hand and gave it a firm squeeze.
“Alright, I give in. I know you’d just sit here until I decided to go anyway. Then I’d have to deal with a hungry version of you,” Chris chuckled. “You’ll have to answer to Delores on Monday, though. I’m not dealing with the pointed questions.”
“What, you think I can’t take on your seventy-year-old secretary?”
“I know you can’t. You don’t stand a chance. She’s the only thing holding the BSAA together at this point other than some gum and duct tape; she didn’t get like that by letting one handsome spouse intimidate her.”
Leon rolled his eyes. Sometimes, it was beyond him how he fell so hard for Chris. At times like these, though, he knew exactly why.
So instead of making a quip about how Chris was a sap or how he could totally win in battle against Delores the secretary, he linked his fingers with Chris’s and threw a soft smile over his shoulder at him.
“Come on,” he murmured. “Dinner, shower, then you make sure Rose is tucked in right. Let’s go.”
The whole weekend was ahead of them. Dinner. A shower. Checking on Chris’s wounds and rewrapping his bandages. Dropping in on Mia unannounced to make sure their unofficial daughter was tucked in with her favorite stuffed animal in hand. A kiss, because Rose cried when she didn’t get one.
They had things to do. There was an entire organization to run, and Leon could only avoid the DSO for so long.
Those little issues were pushed to the back of his mind. They had an entire weekend together. Leon would have to prod Chris to go get flowers for Nadia and her wife to try to bribe the woman into letting him live. He was sure Mrs. Smith – Sarah – didn’t care, but that wasn’t the point. They still needed to celebrate Rose doing so well in class and Chris being there to see her in action. It was beyond a successful parent visit day.
All that could wait, though.
Some things could be worried about on Monday.