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Minutes felt like hours, dragging on to days and weeks and months, like the muddy and thorn laced path of wilderness they currently crept through. The smell of earth and fresh rainfall was choked out by a strong metallic scent; a smell of fear and adrenaline and pain and doubt. Warm hands gripped their own, an arm slung over their shoulder and a heavy weight bearing down on their side, but they couldn't mind it any less. He was okay.
They felt a thumb stroke the back of their hand, could see the soft eyes and even softer expression in the edge of their peripheral vision. They could never understand how Leon could look so open; so understanding and kind despite the pain he was in. They could only wonder how much he hid just underneath the surface, like fangs tearing at flesh that was barely shrouded in darkness. They held him a little closer, just to feel that he was solid, that he was okay and alive, even if they had to mind the wounds he sustained.
His torso wounds were in a bad condition, worse than they could manage, but they knew anything professional was out of the question. They barely had enough for food and shelter, and Ryker knew Leon would gladly tear the clothes off his back before letting them go cold, let alone let them go hungry. That self-sacrificing old man, Ryker thought with a heavy fondness, adjusting the poorly fashioned tourniquet on Leon's shoulder. It was no use trying to convince him. They were never more thankful for his arsenal of medical knowledge, even if they would much rather take him to a doctor.
A weak cough alerted Ryker to the presence of Leon against them once again, a small smile on dangerously pale lips. The sight alone made their heart wrench.
"Good news, he didn't pierce anything vital. Hurts like hell, though."
He chuckled quietly, very little humor behind the noise. Lord, he even sounds bad ; Ryker couldn't help but think, gripping a little tighter to Leon's hand.
"Shouldn't be too hard then, huh?"
"Hm? Oh, right, yes, to… patch me up. I believe in you, Dr. Dublin."
Leon mock-saluted them, the gesture almost as stiff and rigid as the smile on his face.
Something seemed… off, about Leon. Besides the stabbing and blood loss, Ryker couldn't help but worry about something being different, something being wrong.
"...Are you okay, Leon?"
They asked hesitantly, internally bracing themself for a reprimand or a more physical punishment; one that would never come. It never would, it never did with Leon. Almost a decade later, and they couldn't help that the fear still clung to their every thought.
Leon paused. He looked down, almost in shame, but they could sense something darker in the deep pools of amber, hidden just below the surface. He sighed, adjusted himself against them, and let out the most pitiful bit of speech possible.
"I shouldn't be here, Ry."
"What? No, you made it out of there, I'll patch you up, good as new, you'll be f–"
"No, kiddo. I mean something different I… it wasn't supposed to go this way. I should be dead ."
"You're talking nonsense, d– Leon. D-Did you… oh Lord, please don't tell me you…"
"No, no, nonono, not like that. It's… it's complicated–"
"We have all day, you can tell me."
Leon sighed loudly, tension leaking from his shoulders as he moved to bury his face in his left hand. The scarred hand, they noted.
"I can't tell you. I can't. I can't lose you too."
They felt him squeeze them a little tighter, and they immediately leaned into the contact, it was almost instinct at this point.
"It's not safe. I can't. I'm sorry, I would tell you every single thing in the world if I could but… I can't lose you, Ryker. Not you too."
"Too?"
He grew silent once again, and they knew not to push the matter. The next five minutes of walking passed in silence, until they, luckily, reached their campground. Ryker immediately went to work on Leon's injuries, propping him against all the layers they could.
Under any other circumstances, they would have giggled at how small Leon looked huddled in the pile of blankets, but it only tugged at their already aching heartstrings. They wasted no time in getting to work on the worst of the cuts, pressing alcohol-soaked cloth to the deepest gashes. They muttered quiet apologies everytime he tensed or made even the smallest of noises, flushing the wounds with water to help soothe the ache as soon as they could. Leon was mostly silent, only near-whispering directions on how tight to bandage, or how to apply the gauze when need be. Whether it be from blood loss or their earlier conversation, Ryker couldn't help how their heart raced with fear at how stagnant he seemed. The fear of loss still hung heavy in their mind, and everytime his breaths stuttered or especially rattled, they especially couldn't help how tightly they gripped to his hand.
"I'm sorry."
Ryker tilted their head, confused at his sudden apology. They examined him, his face, his now bandaged wounds; but then noticed the tear trails down his cheeks, and they couldn't help but pull him into a tight embrace. Even if they accidentally squeezed his injured shoulder, which they quickly apologized for, it was everything they both needed. Leon, usually the taller one, was used to having Ryker's head in the crook of his neck, but the reverse felt perfect in every way. A solid reminder for Ryker that he was here, that he was alive and okay, and for Leon, the warmth and contact he craved.
"I'm sorry I almost left you, Ryker."
"It's okay, Leon."
"I wouldn't have even gotten to say goodbye, I… Ryker, I'm so sorry."
Ryker pulled him a little closer, the quiet rainfall outside their tent and the warmth and scent of Leon keeping them as grounded as they could be.
"I'm just– god, I'm so glad you're okay. I'm so glad you're safe."
It grew silent once again, save for Leon's more ragged breathing and the rain and occasional clap of thunder that had Ryker gripping tighter to him, to which he laughed and told them to be careful with his old man bones. It was almost surreal that he was okay, that they could slip so easily back into the domesticality they had established over almost a decade. Speaking of slipping, they could minutely feel Leon's grip on them loosen, and he slumped against them, clearly exhausted.
"You ready for sleep?"
Leon wordlessly nodded, burying himself into the pile of blankets they had behind him and over him. It was nice to finally take care of him for once.
"Rest well now, Leon."
"J-je t'aime, Ryker."
"Je t'aime aussi, papa."
They froze instantly, but instead of the somber expression on Leon's face that usually came with the slip-up, he smiled. A bittersweet smile, but still, a smile.
"Bonne nuit, mon fils."
"Bonne nuit, papa."