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Your pounding footsteps and sharp breath echo through the sterile hallways of the Umbrella compound as you dart through them, targeting the center of ARK. You’d been here for Elpis, and when you’d found a camera down here showing Zeno, of all fucking people, releasing it, you’d booked it, your pulse high in your throat. You know damn well if he gets his hands on it, you’ll never see it, and you’ve been after it just as long as him.
It’s not that you hate the guy, you two just often have… conflicting interests to put it lightly. You’d been a product of The Connections’ experiments too, but while he was seemingly content to be their hawk in a gilded cage, you weren’t. Naturally, The Connections weren’t too happy about that, and as a result, Zeno wasn’t either. He still helped you escape—a fact that grinds on your heart often in the middle of the night—but ever since, you two have been at complete odds. You, a mercenary, want to destroy The Connections; Zeno wants to prove to them he’s worth something.
It’s been push and pull, every time you see him. You trying to convince him to come with you, while he pushes you away. The worst part is that you can tell he wants to go with you—you see it in the way his voice softens for you, the way he seems magnetically drawn towards you whenever you run into each other, the way he flinches whenever someone barks an order at him over comms. But going with you would mean failure. Would mean he can’t fulfill his purpose, can’t meet Wesker’s reputation, and that would break him far more than being separated from you.
You can hear voices echoing, the loudest sounding just like Zeno and Dr. Gideon, and you know you’re going in the right direction. When you burst through the door, you stumble to a stop, momentarily dazzled by the open vastness of ARK’s core, golden light shining in your eyes.
Zeno catches sight of you, and whatever tirade he was having quiets abruptly. Likely because you look like you just got in a hand-to-hand brawl with a licker—which, you did. The wounds will heal, but it’s always a painful, slow process, paired with the uncanny feeling of your flesh knitting back together. The screaming pain in the lacerations littering your body, amplified from your panicked sprint, are distracting, but not enough to distract you from Dr. Gideon morphing right in front of you.
A new appendage made of ragged flesh and half-formed limbs sprouts from the doctor’s fresh stump, and you finally notice the girl in the background with the way she gasps in horror at the sight. The momentary distraction takes your eyes off Dr. Gideon, and when they return, that dangerous appendage is hurtling recklessly at Zeno’s throat.
Time slows for a moment, a million memories tangling in your mind all at once. Meeting Zeno for the first time, the ecstasy of finding someone as equally fucked up as you, of Zeno covering for you so you could steal a bike and flee, of all the times you’ve fought him since. You move quicker than you ever have, pulling your gun and firing right for Gideon’s head. It doesn’t stop him, but the stagger gives Zeno enough time to jump out of the way. It sends the appendage off course too, and that girl screams as it slams straight into one of the support arches. You watch in horror as the whole structure starts to collapse, the flimsy walkway you’re on included.
Zeno stumbles as the platform starts to give, genuine panic coating his expression. You’re not sure why—he should heal from any fall, just like you—but it’s on instinct that you run off the walkway, barely dodging an extremely pissed off scientist. You skid to a stop at Zeno’s side, grabbing onto his arm. Neither of you have time to say anything before the platform tilts, dumping off the girl and the man with her first. You pull at Zeno, pleased with the way he follows without question, mimicking the way you drop to slide off it instead of tumbling—with any luck, you can control your fall.
You’re mildly successful, but you still hit the ground hard, and you hear Zeno scream as something goes through his leg. The sound shakes you out of your stunned stupor, your vision fuzzy as you jump to your feet.
“Zeno!”
You can hear that man yelling for Grace ok the other side of a rubble barrier, followed by the roar of what could only be a nemesis. You redouble your search efforts, fear edging into your voice the longer it takes to find Zeno.
You finally turn a corner and find him, a piece of rebar sticking out of his calf. You’re quick to get to his side, ready to pull it out when he yells at you.
“Wait- Wait! I’ll bleed out.”
You look up at him, brow pinched in confusion, and you finally notice he looks… different. For starters, his eyes are the clearest blue you’ve ever seen, dark at the edges and fading into the serene blue of a lake. Secondly, the mutant T-Virus marks are gone, leaving only scarred, regular skin.
“Elpis- It’s a cure, not a weapon,” he hisses through his teeth, pain roughening his voice. “Gideon was a fucking- waste. All of this was.”
The gravity of the fact he’s not going to just walk this off makes nausea rise up in your stomach. This isn’t life threatening, but you know this probably feels like the end of the world to him, and you have to somehow get both of you out of here.
“Okay,” you breathe out, voice level and soothing in that way he’s always admired you for. “I can pack it,” you pat the pack strapped to your side, making enough noise to force him to focus on you, “and then I’ll get you out of here. Think you can manage on one leg?”
“Is there even a way out of here?” The despair in his voice is something you’re not accustomed to, and the urge to cry pries at you uncomfortably.
“One thing at a time, honey.”
The old pet name slips out without thought, but it seems to placate him enough for you to touch his leg without freaking out. The rebar didn’t completely impale the flesh, just stabbed into it—thank god—and he grabs onto you hard enough to nearly dislocate your shoulder when you pull it out.
You do your best to tune out his pain as you pack and bandage the wound, the pressure of time heavy on your back. He doesn’t let you go, even when you stand to look for an exit.
You hoist him up with you, his arm over your shoulders so you can keep his weight off his bad leg. The nemesis you’re barricaded away from roars again following a number of gunshots, and you find yourself sort of rooting for whoever’s behind them.
“__, listen—“
“Later, Zeno. You can wax poetic to me if we get out of here alive.”
After several minutes of hunting, you find a hallway that hasn’t been blocked off. Rubble collapses right behind you, trapping you in this route. The hallway seems to go on forever, the light offered by your flashlight seeming to do little against the dark.
Zeno is distressingly quiet, and though you can’t see much of his face in the dark like this, you can tell by the set of his jaw and brow that he’s losing his shit internally. There’s not much comfort you can offer now aside from holding onto him a little tighter, and that seems to do very little against whatever is tormenting him.
“I’ve got you,” you whisper, the sound feeling too loud in the shadows. “You know that, right?”
He nods with a dry, wheezing laugh, his hand on your shoulder squeezing. “You shouldn’t.”
The walkway starts sloping up, which makes moving slower, but is a good sign. You could almost weep from joy when it leads straight to a parking garage, official Umbrella vehicles abandoned. You drop off Zeno against a wall so you can dart around, looking for keys. You laugh when they drop right out of the visor of one, like some fucked up version of fate wants two people who very much do not deserve to survive this, survive.
You all but shove Zeno in the passenger seat despite his protests about being manhandled, the sound of collapsing concrete from further in the building spurring you into action. It takes a few tries, but the engine roars to life finally, and you take off at wildly reckless speeds.
“Fucking hell-“ Zeno grabs on tight to the door handle when you take the turn out of the garage a little hard. “Glad to see you still haven’t learned a damn thing about driving in the last five years.”
You grin, pleased he’s still maintaining his prissy attitude in light of the last hour of bullshit. “Hey, I took a class. I didn’t pass it, but still.”
You jolt as an explosion roars through the building, smoke billowing in the rear view mirror. Zeno falls back into his stupor as you race out of Raccoon City, the helicopters overhead focused far more on the city’s center than your lone car.
The drive is silent, despite the several hours it takes, autopilot taking you to your apartment. He lets you drag him upstairs and inside with little input, those newly-blue eyes far away. You set him on your couch, and he all but collapses into it, gaze fixed on the ceiling like it holds answers.
“Zeno.”
Nothing.
“Zeno!”
He snaps out of it, eyes clearing. “What?”
“Don’t catch that tone with me,” you grumble, surprised he actually listens. “Are you… okay?”
You cringe, realizing how stupid of a question that is. He’s obviously not, he hasn’t said a word except ‘what?’ in the last four hours.
He snorts, throwing his hands up helplessly. “Never been better. Just lost everything I’ve worked for since we were—“ He cuts himself off, burying his head in his hands. “Bet you’re fucking enjoying this, huh?”
You opt to not take it to heart, acknowledging he’s probably not running at emotionally stable right now. You sit next to him with a sigh, hesitantly putting a hand on his back. He flinches, then sinks into it. “I don’t actively pray for your downfall, y’know. That’s everyone else.”
He lets out that same bitter laugh from earlier, tapering off into something wet. You freeze as you realize he’s crying, the sound ripping something out of your chest.
“Oh, Zeno—Honey, you’re gonna be okay.” You drag him a little closer, your hand on his back sliding up into his hair. It’s uncharacteristically messy, and it makes him look younger. More vulnerable. He turns to tuck his face into you, and your arms wind around him in a hug, your chin resting on a shaking shoulder.
“The Connections, they won’t take me back like this-“
“The Connections can go straight to hell. You… Why don’t you stay here?” It’s the dumbest idea you’ve had in a while—The Connections already want you dead, stealing away their pet project isn’t going to help. You can’t bear to leave him to their judgement, though. Not after everything he did for you, after everything you two went through together. Ironic, given than you threw a knife at his head, like, a month ago, but whatever. You’re a weak, weak individual, apparently.
He flinches away from you, evidently set on lashing out, if the flash of teeth you see means anything. His eyes are an even more startling blue when they’re wet, the red at the corners offsetting it. “And do what? I can’t contribute anything! I’ve got no- no contacts, no powers!” His voice drops, chest heaving. “I had one goddamn purpose, and I managed to go and fuck it up-“
He chokes, a fresh wave of tears silencing him. You’ve never seen him completely fall apart like this, and while you’re not entirely sure you can fix it, you sure as hell can try.
“Zeno, listen to me.” He responds positively to the stern tone you take, a fact you file away for later. His eyes meet yours, and the fragility there settles on you like a weight. You could break him, if you wanted to. “You’re one of the smartest men I’ve ever known. Your powers aren’t where you start and end. You can stay with me. Help me. Doesn’t that sound nice?”
You move closer to him, taking back the space he took by lashing out. He locks up, that ever-active mind of his racing. His gaze narrows, like he’s trying to read you for any deceit. When he fails to find any, his expression shifts. His jaw loosens for the first time in hours, and you’re just a little disquieted by the slight edge of obsession in his eyes.
He always did like to fixate—looks like you’re the next victim of it. Oddly enough, you can’t find it in you to care. Not if it means keeping him safe.
“…Okay. Okay. I’ll stay. With you.”
His sentences are short and choppy, like he’s still processing the decision himself. You smile, reaching out thoughtlessly and brushing some of the wet stains off his cheeks. He leans into it like a neglected dog, and it makes you ache, the potential that he hasn’t gotten a kind touch since you left.
“I’ll never leave you again. I promise.”