Work Text:
30 Days of Prompts, Day 29:
A Road Paved with Checkpoints
Chris Redfield shouldered open the door to his townhouse. Tiredly he dropped the mail onto the dinning table and went to hang up his suit bag in the bedroom, making a mental note to drop it off at the cleaners over the weekend, assuming he didn’t get called in again.
Rolling his shoulders, he went to fix himself a glass of bourbon, neat, before dropping onto the sofa.
The mission hadn’t been a difficult one, nor a long one, but they had encountered more than a few B.O.W.s. Luckily, he and Alpha Team had made quick work of them and the group utilising them. Chris took a sip of his drink and sighed. He’d declined the post mission celebrations at the local bar they frequented near base and had instead come straight back home, for reasons he wasn’t even sure he understood.
For so long his life had been about fighting Bioterror. After everything that had happened in Racoon City it seemed like a natural choice. Like the right choice. And so, he had worked towards the eradication of Umbrella. But even with Umbrella gone there were others with the same ideas, the same drive and so the goal got bigger- a world free of Bioterror and his life had become the BSAA, the hero that everyone looked up to. Someone that people could seek guidance from. And he spent his days racing from one mission to another, determined to keep as many people safe as possible.
But, Chris mused, why did he suddenly feel so lonely? Sure, he didn’t have a significant other, but he had his colleagues, his partners and team at the BSAA. That was work, he realised, even if they sometimes got together outside of it, even if he considered them his friends, his family. He thought for a moment, savouring a sip of bourbon. And his mind naturally turned to Leon, to that night on the balcony a few days ago. The one they’d had to cut short. But it had been enough to make him want. To make him realise that he wasn’t building anything for himself outside of the BSAA and the fight against Bioterror that had become his life. He’d finally met Leon S. Kennedy, in person, and something had changed.
It wasn’t like he hadn’t had crushes, or relationships before, but those had all been short lived and before he’d moved to Raccoon City. There was just something about Leon. It sounded so clichéd, but there had been a spark between them. Chris was sure of it, but it was ridiculous to think that it might amount to spending the rest of their lives together. Especially when they’d barely spent half an hour in each other’s company at a gala.
Chris downed the end of his glass of bourbon and contemplated getting another. As he stared at his glass, he pondered what it would be like to share his life with someone else. To have someone to come home to. He’d always thought that his line of work was too dangerous, that he didn’t want to have anyone having to worry over him. And besides, how much would he be able to share with them?
Chris shook his head at the pointlessness of the questions. He was only really contemplating a relationship with one person. He was thinking about dates and evenings curled up on the sofa and may be a white picket fence somewhere. He shook his head again. He had it bad. He didn’t even know Leon, not really.
Sure, he’d heard all the stories Claire told about him. Even the time they’d ended up dealing with the incident in Washington D.C. and she’d come back claiming she was never talking to him again, but if he’d been at the gala, then he was pretty sure they’d patched things up.
He reeled his imagination back in, as he got up to go get that second glass. He would stick to just regretting having to leave the gala so soon and not being able to see where the night might have led, and not getting Leon’s number.
No doubt they’d meet again soon enough, given the intersection of their work. And hopefully, that time they’d be able to have that drink.