Work Text:
Piers Nivans had never really got use to not having his arm. Ever since the incident at the oil rig in Lanshiang, he hasn’t been himself. He spent numerous nights in the hospital whether it be comatose or being forced under observation to stay at the hospital. He hadn’t been so keen on staying, he wanted to be back in training and back in the field.
Chris Redfield, his captain, and friend had visited him every other day unless he had a mission. Anything related to work was never discussed, and the subject would change if Piers ever tried to bring it up. It was agreed between yourself and Chris that the BSAA wouldn’t be brought up until he was out of the hospital. You even told Piers this agreement, to which he was reluctant to agree to.
After three months, he was released from the hospital and moved into the house the two of you had bought before the mission. You had made it your home. Chris had come around during the weekends to help you with some of the more manual work. Grateful couldn’t describe how much you wanted to thank Redfield for his help, but a part of you knew this was more on his conscious and he blamed himself for Piers’ state.
Piers was distant the first couple of weeks, not wanting to be a burden on you. His independence and stubbornness was tested as a lot of the everyday behaviours he would take part in, he couldn’t do. For example, the both of you had lost a total of 13 mugs from Piers trying to make himself and you cups of coffee in the morning, like he normally did.
At one point, his frustrations got the better of him, making him lash out. That was the turning point for him. Seeing the fear on your face caused him to burst out crying. He hated seeing you scared, especially if he was the cause of your fear. He had collapsed to the ground on his knees with his shoulders slumped forward. His head hung low as he finally allowed his emotions to come out.
Everything that he has held up behind the emotionally mental barrier now crashing down after years. The months of being out of work, out of the field and not even allowed to join training was taking it’s toll on him. He hated being as helpless as he was. He hated how he was so reliant on you to the point he felt like a burden. You cautiously wandered towards him, kneeling down in front of him.
“You are not a burden, Piers. Like with any injury, we work to make sure it’s fully healed and that you are healed mentally.” You began to explain to him, lifting his head up so he was eye level with you, “Whilst yes, this is a lot different to any injuries you’ve had. We can work through it. Chris is sorting you out with a prosthetic arm so you can get back to what you love. Meanwhile, what we can do together is help you get back to the best of your ability.” That seemed to spark something in Piers. Motivation. Adoration. Determination. He was now determined to make you proud. To make some progress. You always seemed to say the right thing to him to get his head straight. This happened to be one of those moments.
In the following months, you watched Piers become his old self. The two of you worked together to help him use solely one hand. He got back into his old training routine, including morning and evening runs. Two weeks after your inspirational speech, Chris took Piers to get his prosthetic arm and he received that three weeks later. When Piers did receive it, the two of you worked to help Piers get used to it.
Soon enough, Piers was back at the BSAA training with the others, especially in terms of his sniper skills. After all these months, his other arm still had muscle memory and helped him with the prosthetic arm. There was a shift in the atmosphere. Piers seemed happier, you were happier especially since Piers had gone down on his knee and proposed to you.