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Piers hesitated going back home. It was a horrible feeling which sat with him and day by day, festered to putrefaction inside him. And the worst part of it, was the fact he had no reason to feel this ugly anxiety. Chris never ever gave him any hint he didn’t worship the ground he walked on but Piers inner voice continued to whisper malicious thoughts. If only it was as easy to silence himself as it was to put down a B.O.W., he’d have been golden but it was a lot harder to run away from fears he couldn’t help having. What he could do was have a frank and honest discussion with Chris but Piers was afraid.
It was embarrassing to admit but he didn’t want to be right. If Chris confirmed all his fears then… honestly whenever he considered the outcome he immediately hid away from the possibilities. He couldn’t handle it but this irrational fear was getting harder and harder to dance around. It was getting harder and harder for Piers to find plausible excuses for staying late at work. It was getting harder to stay away from the man he loved because that insidious voice nagged how the man would one day recoil from him and Piers couldn’t deal with that horrific idea.
And of course Chris noticed. The man was extremely observant and intelligent. How could the older soldier not see the way Piers pulled away from him. The guilt was salt on his wounds and worse of all, Chris was respecting his boundaries. He didn’t push Piers for answers or explanations when he had every right to. They’d been in a committed relationship for years and been through hell’s trials together and still Piers was behaving like an absolute asshole. He recognized it but it didn’t silence the voices. That was the trick with irrational fears…. They were irrational!
He stared at his prostatic fingers, curling them into fists and relaxing them. The engineering behind the arm was phenomenal and top grade. The army spared no expense considering the sacrifice lieutenant Nivans made. It was still new to him but Piers thought this model might be the one. It felt way closer to his old arm than any of the other try-outs. Simple things like weight and balance. Things that may seem insignificant but he notice them and they’d driven him insane at first. He used to throw his prototypes across the room in a fit of rage because what the fuck was the point?! He’d never be normal again!
If it wasn’t for his hero status he doubted the B.S.A.A. would have put up with his ‘tantrums’ as patiently but after multiple therapy sessions he learned not to feel guilty for his outbursts. He lost A LOT after the H.A.O.S. incident and he felt like he should be proud of his sacrifice, which he was, but there was also an internelised anger at making it, which he used to feel ashamed of. Humans were complicated messes full of contradictions and Piers had to work through a lot of stuff with the shrinks before he was cleared for duty again.
To say he was ‘normal’ again was stupid because his normal was not the same anymore. And for a long time that used to distraught him but he’d worked through most of that. Most of it. He was adjusted enough to resume his active service, something he didn’t take for granted. The rehabilitation alone nearly broke him but now he could snipe the wings of a fly like in the days of old even with the loss of an eye and an artificial limb. The engineers did a magnificent job but wires and silicone could never replace flesh and blood.
The one glaring problem which lingered in spite of all his labor was regarding his personal life. Something the engineers and researchers really couldn’t help with and the shrink gave him generic advice which was very applicable if Piers only grew a spine and applied it. An honest discussion with Chris to explain why being around him terrified him way more than any threat on the field. Easy enough.
Piers felt his tastebuds curdle with the sour taste fizzling inside his mouth as he tried for the umpteenth time to talk himself into growing a pair. Chris was waiting for him at home. Again. He’d delayed going back. Again. He’d spent time at the gym with excuses of his arm giving him some trouble which he wanted to work out. Again. The cycle was becoming so repetitive it was predictable. Piers saw the look in Chris’ eyes when he started giving the excuses because they both knew he was lying. Piers felt shitty and he knew he had to deal with this. Not only was it messing him up but he was obviously hurting the man he loved. Piers could literally see the pain in the captain’s kind eyes. If that didn’t light a fire under his procrastinating ass then nothing will.
***
Piers tried to put his feelings into a coherent set of sentences the whole way back. It was pointless. He kept thinking of how Chris will look at him and how stupid he sounded when he really thought about it. He kept wondering what would he say if he was in Chris’ shoes? He’d probably get angry at the other man for being such a dunce. Fair. It was so much harder to explain himself when he was intelligent enough to understand how baseless it was…
‘This is going to suck…’ The sniper was at their front door. He’d reached the end of the journey. For a moment he considered turning and going back to the gym but that was extremely stupid and he shook his impulsive thought loose. He’d just have to be honest with Chris and trust the man would hear him out and understand. With a heart far heavier than it should be when returning home, he pushed the door open. It was left unlocked for him.
‘Chris? I’m home.’ He mumbled the words, almost hoping the man wasn’t within earshot. Maybe Chris already went to sleep?
‘Over here Piers.’ But of course the man would wait for him. The captain’s voice carried from the living room. Piers said nothing but he felt heavy and fidgeted with his boots as he took them off by the door. What would be the best way to start this talk of theirs? We need to talk sounded too ominous... And he definitely didn’t want to give his love the wrong idea!
‘Sorry for being so late. You didn’t need to wait for me.’ He spoke, mouth moving by itself while his brain continued to twist and turn his thoughts like a rubik's cube. Finally he had nothing left to do but start moving towards the living room. He loathed himself for feeling anything other than jubilation at being in the other man’s proximity but he dragged his feet.
‘That’s fine. Piers, we need to talk.’ The younger man stopped in his tracks like an invisible string yanked him in place. He was just around the room’s corner and he heard the tone of Chris’ voice. It was serious. Piers should have known all his pussyfooting would lead to this because it was painfully obvious Chris had enough of his antics. He couldn’t blame the man obviously but he really didn’t want to round that corner.
‘Chris I’m sorry. Please don’t leave me. I just didn’t want you to stay with me because you feel responsible and then you’d realise I’m all fucked up and go and-‘ It was like a dam burst under the growing pressure and it drowned Piers. He didn’t realise it at first but he’d crumbled to his knees while he babbled all his fears with no rhyme or reason. He’d been carrying this fear inside him ever since he saw the deformed monster the virus turned him into. The infected flesh was mostly removed via surgery and he looked almost normal but he still felt ugly sometimes. The scars were there. Inside and out. Sometimes he saw that infected face reflect back at him in a mirror and shuddered.
There was no way Chris didn’t see it too. Piers saved his life so clearly he felt forced to stay with him but that’s not what Piers wanted and the voice continued to remind him one day, any day, the man would have enough. Chris never gave him a reason to think this, quite the contrary, but it was an irrational fear…One he’d been too scared to share with the one man who’s acceptance made his heart beat. And now it was too late. Chris was done with him and Piers felt that beat stutter.
‘Stop! Hey, Piers what the fuck are you talking about? Look at me.’ Piers blinked, confused why the world was blurry but it made sense when Chris brushed his tears away from his lashes with his thumb. He wasn’t sure when the other man got to him and knelt to stare at his idiotic boyfriend’s pained face. The man looked confused and worried which was crazy to Piers. Of course he’d brake down in tears if Chris was going to break up! Then again, he’d been so taciturn lately maybe Chris started thinking he didn’t care at all! Piers started crying harder.
‘I fucked up..! I care, I swear Chris so please don’t go-‘ Piers was inconsolable, hiccupped tears choking him as tried to get his emotional outburst under control. This was so uncharacteristic for him and through the occasional clear blink he could see the panic growing on the other man’s face who kept raising and lowering his arms as if suddenly confused why he had them at all.
‘I’m not going anywhere! What are you talking about?’ Suddenly Chris reached for his shoulders and shook him, sternly looking at him. The way his captain looked at his soldier and Piers reflexively stilled, falling in the pattern of his training. ‘Piers. Look at me and talk to me. Where’s this coming from?’ The man’s voice was stern but far softer than he’d use if they were just superior and subordinate. It worked.
‘You said…You said we needed to talk so I know you want to break up and I get it but please, don’t-‘ Chris had the sort of presence which could silence a man with a glare and the way he narrowed his eyes at Piers now had his voice shushing into a murmur.
‘Why would you think that? I don’t want to break up. Did I say something to make you think this?’ Chris was looking at him like he’d grown a second head and Piers was tempted to won der if there was still some dormant C-virus inside him. He started shaking his head because he was in too deep now. He had to justify why he was acting so crazy.
‘You didn’t but you must have noticed how I was acting!’ Chris nodded slowly but didn’t interrupt. His hands were still on Piers’ shoulders and the fingers were tensing. The man was itching to ask but he gave Piers the space to explain himself in his own time. ‘Do you think I’m ugly?’
‘Wh-?’ Chris opened his mouth, made a syllable then fell mute and stared at Piers. A number of emotions flickered across his visage in rapid fire. Bewilderment, shock followed by the beginning of anger. Piers flinched at that last one or maybe it was the way Chris’ grip had more of a bite to it. ‘No.’ It seemed to small a word but the way Chris spoke it made Piers think of rolling thunder. Silent and deadly in the distance, approaching on the heels of the stunning lightning. Piers felt the two letters burn on his core like a brand and it sizzled unpleasantly. The undertone of budding ire was hard to miss in the captain’s low timbre. He knew when Chris was enraged and not the anger which was explosive but burned out quickly. This was the true kind of rage which made grown men’s knees knock together.
‘I’m… The scars…’ Piers lost most of the wind out of his sails. His voice was a tiny squawk because it hit him, as ridiculous as it was to realize it so late, how stupid he sounded. If Chris accused him of anything this shallow he’d be spitting lave and he saw how insulted the older soldier was. This wasn’t exactly how Piers hoped to get his answer…
‘What about them? Do you actually think I’d find your appearance anything other than beautiful? Do you think so little of me, Piers?’ That dangerous tone remained and Piers shook his head, lowering his gaze mutely. He couldn’t help a tiny jerk when the other man lifted his face, perhaps pinching his fingers a little too hard under his chin. Piers only recalled seeing this look on Chris’ face once, when one of the more callous researchers suggested they put his C-mutated body to better use as a study subject. Chris was incredibly level-headed but he’d genuinely thought the man was about to commit manslaughter and the researcher must have gotten the hint because Piers never saw him again. Even when he fought the vilest villains, Chris never got personal. He knew how dangerous mixing his emotions with that side of his profession could get. Piers only knew a little about his past with Albert Wesker but that connection left deep scars on the soldier’s weathered spirit.
‘Answer me honestly Piers, is this why you’ve been pulling away? From me?’ There was aching restrained to Chris’ voice which cut deep into him.
‘I’m sorry… ‘ Now that sounded too little, even to his own ears. Piers wanted to hide but Chris wouldn’t let him and the dark eyes seared holes into him. Just as Piers thought he’d be turned to ash, they began to soften back to their cedar warmth and the man sighed, voice pregnant with tired weight and lowered his glance enough for Piers to feel like he could suck in a breath again.
‘You have nothing to apologize for Piers, ever. It pains me you’d think I’d ever stay with you out of responsibility? But I do understand. I understand insecurity. You’ve seen me at my worst.’ Chris gave him a small, tired smile and Piers’ heart cracked like an egg. ‘I understand scars, visible or otherwise. You know I carry my fair share of baggage.’ Another smile and a certain far off look which told Piers Chris was thinking of Racoon City.
‘I’m-‘ Chris pressed his finger to Piers’ lip before he could apologize again because he didn’t know what else to say. What else could he say? Now that he saw Chris’ reaction he felt even more moronic for harboring such doubts when this soldier had been nothing but devoted to their partnership.
‘Don’t apologize. Can you try and tell me why you felt this way?’ Piers leaned into the other man’s hand when he wiped it across his wet cheek. His bad eye didn’t have functioning tear ducts anymore.
‘It’s stupid…’ Chris shook his head. He wasn’t getting away that easily.
‘It’s important enough to make you think I’d leave so out with it.’
‘Sometimes…Sometimes I see myself the way I looked back then and I started thinking you see me like that too. It’s hideous and I started thinking you’d get grossed out one day so when you said we need to talk…’ Piers shrugged, drifting off. Yeah, it sounded really fucking stupid. To his credit Chris didn’t look at him like he’d just regressed to the thinking of a ten year old so that was nice.
‘Piers....’ Chris seemed at a loss of words and instead started moving his fingertips over the permanent lines carved into the infected side of Piers’ face. The virus was, as far as all tests could tell contained and dormant, but the antidote hadn’t done its magic before the damage was done. The doctors did their best to reconstruct the damage with plastic surgery and they did a top shelf job. His cheek was smooth where the skin had been wrinkled and pinched. The majority of the damage was visible only to those who knew where to look. He always saw it and he’d convinced himself Chris was as preoccupied with the calloused ravines retreating under the subterfuge of his eyepatch. Sadly the scarring around his eye was too close to the nerves to do much surgery without risking damaging more healthy tissue. Chris said he liked the eyepatch, even called him a badass and said it looked sexy, but Piers was too lost in his own poisonous thoughts to hear him. Surely the man saw only the milky eyeball uselessly nesting inside his socket. Surely Chris was as grossed out by the deformed elongated pupil, a grotesque reminder of the C’s brief residence inside his system.
‘I don’t know why I have to keep reminding you but I’ll do so until my last breath. I love you and you’re beautiful.’ The man caressed his ugly half and Piers leaned into that touch too. ‘And the reason why we needed to talk was not to break up. Though I did want to know why you were suffering alone. I’m not blind Piers. I know when my man’s in pain but I know you needed space to work through it. I was afraid you were having thoughts like those but it wasn’t for me to say.’ Piers hiccupped ready to cry again. For fuck’s sake he’d been keeping too much locked in and it was embarrassing going through the whole range of reactions in one chaotic cocktail! He felt like laughing now! The relief was all of a sudden all he could feel and after spending so much time under a dark cloud of his own making, it felt especially potent to let the jubilation make his heart flutter.
‘So then, what did you want to talk about?’ Piers asked, almost timidly. He didn’t want to break the blissful spell but he wanted to know. Chris looked hard at him as if coming to some internal conclusion and nodded to himself. He stood up and held his hand for Piers to take it. The lieutenant didn’t hesitate and he was pulled to his feet.
‘I really can’t see my life without you and this wasn’t really how I wanted to do this but after you’ve shared with me how you felt all this time, it might actually be the perfect time.’ Chris talked as if putting his thoughts into words and Piers became more confused.
‘Chris? What is this?’ Do what? Perfect time? For what?
‘Come with me.’ Chris tugged gently on their intertwined fingers towards the forgotten living room door. Piers had been too upset but now that his mind was clearer he realized there was a sweet fragrance in the air. Flowers. Roses?
‘What is this?’ Piers breath left him with the question as he turned the corner and saw what his boyfriend had been waiting to show him. He really should have waited one step before he had his freak out and he’d have realized there was absolutely no way in hell a separation was anywhere close to Chris’ thoughts. The living room was covered in roses, bouquets of them. White and sweet scented. Piers looked around the floral arrangements in awe, taking in the display but he really had no words.
‘Piers Nivans, will you marry me?’ The young lieutenant was quite proud at his adaptability. Throw any situation at him and he didn’t panic or freeze. He’d always been good at rolling with the punches and Chris’ tutelage only enhanced this handy capability but when he peeled his eyes from the roses to turn and find his captain back down on his knee with a box held up in his hand for him to gawk at, Piers forgot all of that. A bird could have flown in and perched on his petrified frame. He might have thought he misheard if the box didn’t have a very obvious golden ring displayed between the velvety cushions. ‘Piers? Is this too fast?’ Doubt started creasing Chris’ brows and Piers flinched as if slapped.
‘No! I mean, yes! I’ll marry you. Yes!’ Piers would have shouted it from the rooftops if that was optional because this was everything he’d ever dreamed off, all wrapped up in a handsome heroic package. Chris, his fiancé, grinned and it was one of those genuine smiles. Piers realized he only ever saw that dazzling display of unguarded happiness when it involved him. No, that was a lie. He’d known that for a long time and he wanted to eat glass for ever entertaining the insanity of Chris judging him. He obviously needed to do some more work with the therapist to untangle the mess inside his head but that crown of thorns had nothing to do with the other soldier. Never had.
‘Your hand?’ Chris took out the ring and Piers held out his hand, the human one. He shivered as the captain slid the promise band down his ring finger, the one connected to his love drunk heart, and felt his eyes mist again. He had to hold it up to stare. The ring was simple and gold. They weren’t into flashy things but the engagement circlet was the furthest thing from drab.
‘Do you want to do mine?’ Chris took out a second ring from his pocket and held it out to Piers in the palm of his hand. He hadn’t bothered to keep this one in a box and the lieutenant reached for the jewelry. He grinned as he turned it between his fingers and noticed there was something written on the inside. Piers Nivans followed by a tiny picture of a flower symbol. He knew even without colour, the petals would be blue. A tiny Forget-Me-Not. Piers chuckled at the thoughtful detail. That was ‘their flower’ and he was almost a little surprised Chris didn’t drown the whole room in the wood-flowers but he supposed most florists had white roses more readily available. Not that he was complaining!
‘Does mine say Chris Redfield?’ Piers felt the ring warm against his skin as if knowing the name of his beloved was pressed up against it made his blood glow.
‘Christopher Redfield, yes. I didn’t know what else to say.’
‘It’s perfect.’ And it was. They belonged to each other and it was something he would never ever allow himself to forget again. As Chris did to him, he slipped the ring down his finger and as soon as the band found its forever home, he felt himself get pulled up against the other man’s chest. Piers opened his mouth to greet the eager lips and Chris kissed him with the passion of their first kiss. Sweet and tender but steadfast and enduring.
‘To the last breath, I swear. Don’t doubt me Piers.’ He felt so giddy it was dizzying. The researchers told him one of the lasting side effects of C was a harder time controlling his emotions which he could attest to. Anger, joy, depression, he felt them all hyper acutely and as someone who was used to being in control it had been an adjustment. He correctly assumed this was one of the reasons Chris gave him time to work through his mess. And now he was feeling the virus’ touch again, except it was hard to hate it for this one. Passion. Piers felt like he could literally melt with the love he felt in that one perfect moment.
‘Never again. To the last breath.’