Chapter Text
His throat felt tight. There was a pressure that shouldn't be there constricting every attempt he made to swallow. Panic clawed up his chest and tore at his mind as he forced his eyes to open. His vision was blurry and unfocused. A tepid fluid encompassed his body, fingers twitching helplessly at his sides as his body refused to obey. It was a simple command, yet nothing came. His throat fought against this intrusive presence, choking him as he tried to work around it. Zeno squeezed his eyes shut as he struggled to breathe, gagging around the cold plastic obstruction, as muffled voices passed.
‘Help.’ He couldn't even voice the pleas himself as his desperation grew. His mind screamed, beating frantically against the prison of his own body to give him freedom. That tight feeling grew worse as the agonizing seconds stretched into an eternity. He could feel it fighting him, shuddering and jerking in place despite his efforts to dislodge it. Pain blossomed in the center of his chest as it radiated up towards his neck, a tight burning sensation. Zeno couldn't take it any longer. The madness and terror had reached a breaking point as his whole body jerked with a sudden force.
His eyes shot open as something warm and damp tangled around his legs. Zeno gasped, finally able to fill his lungs with oxygen, as his bleary eyes searched the darkness that surrounded him. His fingers fisted at his sides as he clenched the fabric of his sheets tightly. A gutted terror rattled through him as he stifled the sob that threatened to take him. A tight achy sensation swelled in his throat for a whole other reason as he forced another breath past. Then another.
A sheen of sweat rapidly cooled across his body. Zeno felt disgusting as his sleeping shirt clung to his torso in a twisted uncomfortable mess. He forced himself to sit up as he drew his knees up until partially bent to stabilize himself. His back pressed into the messily discarded pillows. He was shaking. His entire body from his fingertips to his legs felt weak and unsteady. He dug his toes into the soft messy material of the sheets as he drew his knees closer and wrapped his arms around himself.
‘Another dream.’ He told himself in the silence as he focused on breathing. One breath, in and out, as he slowly repeated the process. His throat felt scratchy and sore, but he doubted he had the strength to leave his bed to quell it right now. Another breath. He dug his fingertips into the unprotected flesh of his biceps. It hurt, no more than a pinch really, but it felt real and that's all that mattered to him. ‘I won't go back there.’
It was the only promise he could make himself that would soothe the paranoid part of his mind that said that place was inevitable. Zeno refused. He would take his own life if he had to but he would deny them the satisfaction of ever doing that to him again.
He wasn't a specimen to be put on display like something strange and bizarre. To be made a plaything for satisfying their curiosity. He wasn't like the others. He was different. He was lucky. He had promise. He wouldn't be like them. He held power in his hands and tasted its possibilities.
It could have been several minutes or an hour that had passed before he felt some semblance of control return. The shaking didn't stop, but Zeno had the strength to force his body into controlled motion. He needed to move. To take charge and soothe the fear in his thoughts. He extracted himself from the tangle of his bedding and planted his bare feet on the soft rugs of his bedroom floor. Every step was unsteady as he wobbled and staggered towards the doorway of the bathroom. His palm blindly groped the doorframe as it came into touching distance. He used this to guide himself through the threshold to the sink to avoid bumping into anything in the process.
The cool water of the faucet was a relief as he downed a few mouthfuls with a small reusable plastic cup. The refreshing fluid slid over the rough patch in his throat as the swelling shrank considerably since he first awoke. He let the cold continue to run as he cupped the water in his palms to splash his face. Zeno ignored the dull sting that stirred in his left cheek as the water helped sober his thoughts and ground him. Each night was becoming a struggle in a battle he wasn't fond of fighting. These nightmares sickened him. He was completely at their mercy and they were as cruel in their indiscriminate torment as the individuals that he reluctantly called colleagues.
There was no escape. No weapon he could wield strong enough to end their venomous sting. All he could do was endure and pick himself back up in the aftermath. Rarely were there nights that he found peace lately. It was hard to say what started them as these experiences weren't entirely new to him. They'd come and go in brief torrents that uprooted his footing and left him unsteady for a few days at most. But this had been a battle spread over weeks, and attrition was not a skill he was very confident in. Each night felt like he was losing himself little by little as it chipped away at his sanity. The peaceful nights were almost worse. They gave him hope -a veritable lie- that it might finally break this terrible spell only for it to be snatched from his grasp.
He didn't know what to do, or if there were any way to put a stop to this. It frightened him to think about, and left him in an even worse spot of wondering if there were solutions but they hindered on him placing his trust in the very same individuals that stalked his dreams and filled them with dread.
‘I’ll just have to endure.’ A flimsy endeavor, he was aware. But the only option he could safely cling to at the end of the day. Any control, even in the choice of prolonged misery, was better than a total loss of control at the hands of another. He could deal with it. He just needed to remind himself what the end goal was. Once he reached it, then he could hopefully obtain peace. ‘It could just be the stress.’
He was swift to remind himself of that fact. It did strange things to the mind and body. Surely unsavory dreams were not exempt from that. It was enough of a balm to satisfy his nerves as he returned to his bed. The morning was still two hours away. Even if sleep didn't fully take him, he was reluctant to face the day just yet as he crawled back under the covers to get comfortable once more. He had a feeling it was going to be another long, tedious day.
A fresh supply delivery arrived. The morale in the facility had increased as the stricter rationing enforcement eased up around meals and materials. The scientists and security teams were pleased, however the intensity in the atmosphere hadn't quite left since the attack on the work crews a few days ago. They never did identify the organization that sent the team in. There were no distinguishing details on their equipment. Everything looked pretty generic, easy to get ahold of in mass produced quantities on most markets. Nothing that could be traced to one group in particular and all the operatives had their fingerprints burned off so cross checking them with the known databases was out. The Connections was looking into it on their end which gave Zeno a little more freedom to focus on other immediate concerns.
With the construction project completed, the primary focus now was collecting additional data on the bioweapons in the city. This whole business with the storm agitating them into a frenzy had really caught the eye of the scientists in ARK as they consulted with every known resource on past variations in the NO-AH archives. Nothing came up as a potential explanation. Which led to the next best option.
First hand observation and data collection. Zeno noticed how that translated to him roaming the city to observe and record data on any bioweapons he encountered. Anything could be useful, from biological samples to photo or video documentation of irregular habits. The security teams were excluded from this expedition due to the delicate nature of the request. Zeno was the only one physically capable of procuring the intel without disrupting the usual routines of the bioweapons in the region as he had steadily acclimated himself over the last few years to their ecological hierarchy. Begrudgingly, he did have to admit that was true. It didn't mean he enjoyed the thought of playing errand boy to satisfy their curiosity.
“At least it's sensible.” The suit he had to wear when observing the bioweapons and collecting their samples was a one piece black jumpsuit with a specialized hood like apparatus that he could pull over his head to create a protective face shield. It looked more akin to the types of attire the cleaning crews wore when attending to the lab areas for their regular sanitation duties. It had its own special tool belt that attached to the suit around his waist with a buckle that clipped in snug. The fit was a little on the tight side but he was informed that was an intentional part of the design. It wasn't exactly his style but he appreciated the foresight to avoid damaging anymore of his clothes with this messy business. The pant legs had elastic bands that went around the ankles of his boots to prevent fluids from leaking in. The knees and shins had a much more dense fabric around them that padded his legs from harsh surfaces. The elbows of the sleeves had a similar design, with the elastic around the wrists to cover the ends of the long gloves that came with it.
He had a radio device attached to the inside of his collar that he could use to signal for assistance at any point. He doubted he would ever need it. The tool belt was heavier than he was expecting but not necessarily cumbersome. Redemption was more of a hassle to carry than this. Once the preparations were finished, he left the facility to begin his foray back into the city. It was already heating up despite the early morning hour. Zeno was thankful for the full body coverage of the suit as he adjusted the hood to fix around his glasses so the visor acted as a secondary shield.
The city was quiet. He walked the streets keeping an eye out for any noticeable signs of the local bioweapons. His search began in the immediate vicinity around the crater working his way out from there. He climbed over debris piles, slipped through the old husks of buildings partially collapsed by the blast radius, and crawled through narrow openings and dark dirty tunnels to reach the more off grid areas that a normal security or research team would never risk going. It was already risky enough as is to be going to these hard to reach locations, but the danger only grew with the absence of Redemption. All he had was a handful of emergency flares, a combat knife and a smoke grenade should any trouble arise. His entire mission depended on him evading any potential conflicts or holding his own until a support team could arrive at his location to extract him.
‘Why does this feel like I'm being punished for what happened during the expedition?’ Because that's exactly what it looked like was happening. The orders came from his superiors specifically and was accompanied by an extensive list of oversaturated jargon about the ecological studies of the bioweapons that called the city home. That there was a potential for isolated evolution. There was no actual evidence to support that theory, only a hypothesis built entirely on Zeno's report about the Garmr attack. He doubted they actually suspected he was up to anything they didn't agree with, but the frustration of being given a task like this was shadowed only by the suspicion that they were mad about the casualties and damages.
It was another loss of expenses on their end. Easy to replace with a little time, but still a loss they didn't find appealing in the slightest. So now he had to scour the skeletal remains of a long dead city picking up the leftover waste and fluids of wandering bioweapons. He hated every minute of it. Which on its own was quite something when he hadn't found a single sign of any bioweapons so far. The city was quiet. It was as if they all got up and disappeared. No zombies. No Garmr. Not even a single spider to be spotted, of the Titan Spinner spawn variety or even the regular household variety.
“Where is everything?” There were no signs of rodents or other small vermin that called the ruins home. It was really eerie. He pushed on through the rubble as he reached a downward slope in the terrain where a road gave out. There was a large gaping hole ahead at the end of the steep slope that looked like there was pipework and rusty machinery. He suspected another abandoned NEST facility. ‘This might be promising.’
At least he hoped it had something even mildly useful for him to collect and call it a day. He had a feeling this punishment wasn't going to be so simple and end with one simple outing, but if there were no bioweapons to be found, there wasn't much he could do to fix that without disrupting the natural behaviors the scientists wanted him to document in the field. Zeno didn't need the flashlight on his tool belt as he entered the darkened hole. His eyes adjusted and adapted easily to the darkness. Every footstep sounded noisy as he entered the claustrophobic space of the tunnel. It was crowded by pipework forcing him to walk the narrow stretch of what may have been a service tunnel at some point to reach the chamber opening at the end. As he approached, there was a distinctive odor. Like musty wet soil or mildew. He grimaced and crinkled his nose at the smell. It wasn't all that surprising. This area was likely prone to flooding as well. The damage was extensive. Metal had rusted and corroded away causing sizable breaks in the pipework that barred the walls.
It was tricky to watch his feet as he crept towards the opening. There appeared to be a bigger chamber with large clunky rusted metal objects near the entrance. It was hard to say what they were for once upon a time. His attention shifted as his eyes adjusted to absorb the details of the rest of the space. It was big. So big that he couldn't see the ceiling above. Only a yawning darkness overhead. The wet soil odor mingled with every breath he took. It wasn't repulsive exactly, but it did make his nose burn at first from the harshness of it on his senses. His footsteps grew muffled as he moved slowly ahead. The ground felt different here. Instead of concrete and metal it was squishy? Like walking on mud or loose earth. It gave a little under his heels as he pressed down harder to stabilize his footing.
Common sense told him to reach for his flashlight to better inspect what exactly it was he was walking into. While his night vision was decent, it wasn't perfect. He couldn't make out specific details or see people in their entirety. It was more like silhouettes and vague impressions like watching shadow puppetry at work. His thumb massaged the light attached to his belt as it found the switch and pressed it down. It came on with a quiet click. To Zeno's shock, there was a wall of plants all around him. They coiled around each other in gangly vines that lurched up towards the ceiling where they wove through the rafter beams like a makeshift trellis fortifying their massive leaves and heavy limbs with more support. Roots took hold across the ground as moss spread between giving the floor that distinctive loose dirt feeling he had noticed.
‘I wasn't aware anything could grow this close to the crater.’ All other plant life had been snuffed out. The soil couldn't retain any form of life, at least, that's what they had previously believed when agricultural projects had been tested on the soil collected from surrounding areas. Even extensive fertilization efforts had left them with subpar success. It bore no actual fruit, not in the literal or the proverbial sense of the phrase.
He supposed their hypothesis held some merit after all. He would need to collect samples and mark the location down for a more efficient investigative team to come in later. He just hoped there was nothing hiding among the foliage. There didn't appear to be any other tracks or markings that he could see as he surveyed the ground and nearby plant life. Nothing appeared to be living in this vicinity which was strange. He would have expected a place with active plant life in a desolate location to have drawn local wildlife towards it. There weren't even insects to be found as he closely examined the leaves and trunks of the plants. Their sheer size alone made him wonder how many years they’ve been growing here untouched like this.
‘Was this facility studying advanced agricultural possibilities too?’ Umbrella had a lot of hands in a lot of different projects. Sustainable plants would be a boon for struggling countries that faced rampant droughts and food shortages. These clearly survived in harsh unforgiving conditions. Even if they didn't provide food such as fruit or were edible on their own, they could be the foundations for rebuilding a fertile stable landscape. This could even resolve their food accessibility problems with the ARK facility or future endeavors in other equally as unforgiving places. If they could just figure out what made these plants so special to grow here.
‘I need to take samples.’ He’ll be honest, this was kind of exciting. He supposed he understood the strange enthusiasm the scientists always had about them whenever a breakthrough was made in their research. Finding an unexpected solution or discovering something that was wholly unique was quite thrilling.
Zeno dug into his tool belt in search of the sample kit he was provided. There was a small sealed sterile pack with tools inside that he carefully began to open. Plastic tubes, vials, syringes and swab capsules left an assortment of options to pick from.
‘Maybe a cutting would be beneficial?’ But where should he cut? On a mammalian specimen, it was self explanatory, but this wasn't a beast or human. It was a plant. He doubted a syringe or swab capsule would help him here. There was a small scalpel he could use to take a cutting with. Kneeling down to rest his kit on the ground as he inspected the offered equipment, he reached for the tool. A shiver of unease rolled down his spine. A warning alarm itched at his senses causing him to freeze in place. Something was wrong. He couldn't pinpoint what it was exactly but something was wrong here.
‘What is it?’ He sniffed the air but only found that intense odor of dirt and wet plant foliage as a result. He strained to listen but all he could hear was his own heart beating. No pheromones. No sound of movement among the plants. He shined his light around the space but he was still alone.
‘Is it my imagination?’ No, he couldn't doubt his senses. They had warned him of the attack on the work crew before. If he had doubted them then, there would have been many more casualties. He took a slow calming breath and told himself to focus. He was on the alert in an unknown environment. That was to be expected. He couldn't allow that fact to wind him up unnecessarily. The uneasy feeling didn't abate but his nerves had quieted down a little. He took another steadying breath then reached for the scalpel once more. That warning sense grew louder. Zeno felt his skin crawl as the shiver raced throughout his entire body this time. It didn't make sense. There were no bioweapon pheromones in the area to cause him to have such an unsettling reaction. Yet the hairs on his arms stood on end as if a potential threat was looming over him.
Zeno tried to shake it off as he resumed his work. He plucked the scalpel free of the sterile packaging within the kit then reached for a large enough sample container to prepare for collection. There was a bottle of solution on the belt as well for preserving the samples in transport so they don't dry out or end up damaged. Zeno set that next to the container beside his kit as he turned towards the wall of foliage with his blade in hand.
‘I could collect some of the trunk for starters.’ Zeno inspected the dense body in front of him. A part of him wondered if the scalpel would even be able to cut through the material. It looked pretty sturdy under the illumation of his flashlight. He was beginning to have second thoughts about how well prepared he actually was. ‘Maybe I should use the combat knife instead.’
That sounded like a better idea but would that blade be sterile enough to avoid contamination? That was another question entirely.
‘I probably should stick with the scalpel then. No use wasting a sample like that.’ He still had an objective to complete and he wasn't about to botch it over a poorly kept blade. Even if that poorly kept blade would be a better more suitable option for fulfilling his tasks. With a sigh of resignation, he adjusted the scalpel in hand as he approached the trunk. He inspected the surface for any signs of weakness to pinpoint that would make this go much easier then settled on one just below eye level that had a bulging groove like a knot in the exterior tissue. It looked easy enough to carve off as he reached out to begin.
A firm grip snatched at his forearm. Zeno jolted as another strong limb crossed over his chest, barring him from moving closer to the specimen. Zeno’s head whipped around to spy the cause of his restraints when a deep voice growled low in his right ear. “Don't.”
‘Chris?’ He puzzled. The hands on his body were painfully tight as they caged him in place. Zeno couldn't even move his hips or shoulders to ease the tension. Chris had his back drawn flush against the soldier's chest with so much force it was almost crushing. Zeno squirmed, a futile effort but the impulse was louder than his common sense. He could barely smell the older man's pheromones through the cloying odor of the chamber, even while this close it was a faint impression to his senses. Zeno suspected the older man's suppressors were just recently wearing off. A deep breath of their scent calmed his initial alarm. With a calm careful voice, he spoke up.
“Chris, let go of me.” It was cool, precise, and confident. Zeno wasn't afraid of Chris, not anymore really. He was a little alarmed by the odd behavior and it did have him approaching the situation with much more caution than in the past. Something was wrong but he still couldn't pinpoint what exactly. Chris seemed wrong in the moment.
‘What is he even doing this far into the city?’ Zeno wasn't expecting the soldier to be roaming here of all places. And where are the rest of the squad? Zeno didn't hear Chris’ approach and he couldn't smell their presence nearby.
“If I do, promise me you'll leave this place immediately.” Chris negotiated, but those terms weren't the type that Zeno could adhere to so easily. This was his specimen. He had a job to do still and he wasn't about to let Chris take this one from him.
“You know I can't do that.” Zeno warned in return. A low dissatisfied snarl edged into the air from Chris’ throat. The arms locked around Zeno squeezed him tighter. The younger man half expected this encounter to take an unpleasant turn as the soldier manhandles him away like they've done to him in the past. He imagined Chris was considering it as he felt the older man's fingers tighten. His nails raked across the thin protective material of Zeno's suit. He grimaced to himself, worried the soldier was going to tear a hole in the protective equipment.
“Why do you have to be so difficult?”
That was ironic coming from the man who had forcefully abducted Zeno at every encounter. He wasn't too hopeful that any of that would change anytime soon.
“Let’s just call it a personal freedom.” Zeno countered coolly. He felt the older man tense against his back. Zeno didn't let his thoughts linger on the reason why as he instead focused on a more concerning topic. “What is your stake in this situation, Chris?”
The older man was quiet at first. Zeno suspected Chris was trying to come up with some sort of elaborate workaround to resolve this situation. It certainly wouldn't be the first time manipulation tactics were employed against Zeno to get him right where Chris wanted him. After several minutes, the soldier's thumb that gripped Zeno's forearm tightly, gave his wrist an apologetic massage. It swiped cautious circles against the rubber clad area through the layers of Zeno's PPE as he considered his next words carefully.
“Your safety.”
That sounded like a thin excuse. Not quite a lie, as far as he could tell, but an overly inflated reason that held no sensible ground in the face of their respective positions in their own organizations. The mere utterance went against everything their organizations were hellbent on.
“Don't patronize me.” Zeno snapped back. He didn't intend to chide the older man but he was getting sick and tired of being handled like something that needed to be protected at all times. It aggravated him, even more so after how their last encounter turned out with Chris’ whole demeanor shifting the moment Zeno showed an ounce of vulnerability. It irritated him. He wasn't helpless. He didn't need to be looked after. He was managing perfectly fine on his own, and if Chris thinks he'll give up the fight just because he said some sappy remark and give up this discovery to the Hounds, he was in for a harsh reality check. Besides the fact that he couldn't walk away empty handed, Zeno simply didn't want to. He stood his ground. He would not allow Chris to believe he held the upper hand in every encounter.
The soldier’s grip loosened in his own alarm at the sudden rebuff from the younger man. Zeno took the opportunity to pull himself free of the older man's grasp as he turned sharply to face the soldier head on. Chris was armed as his rifle hung off of his shoulder, and his side arm was holstered on his hip. He was dressed in the usual fashion of his tactical gear, a man that was seemingly prepared for everything. Zeno felt just a touch envious of that. His own equipment left much to be desired in this situation. With the flashlight on Zeno's belt still focused low to keep his hands free, it shone over Chris’ midsection as the edges of the illumation glinted off the older man's amber eyes. His brows furrowed deeply, eyes squinted against the harsh light as his frustration grew. His lip was drawn back into a sneer as he bared his sharp teeth at Zeno like a dissatisfied wolf.
“What are you even doing here?” Chris demanded. To which Zeno met the sharp tone with one of his own.
“I believe that's none of your business.” He gripped the scalpel tightly between his fingers as he toyed with the tool. If things got too heated, this was one of the only weapons he really had to defend himself. He doubted Chris would actually go for it, but Zeno couldn't always be sure. He barely knew the man. He didn't even know what Chris’ whole goal was in being in the city in the first place. He suspected it was for Elpis, but Chris never asked. He never brought up Zeno's side of this silent war between their groups. When they were together, none of that seemed to matter at all. Chris never pushed and Zeno never said anything about it. Until now. Now their sides were within direct conflict and Zeno was painfully reminded of the fact this thing they had shared was something forbidden.
Chris’ scent grew stronger as the older man growled in agitation. His stance stiffened, his shoulders flexed in an intimidating posture that attempted to loom over Zeno in the already claustrophobic space between them. Zeno took a wary step back. His foot hit the roots at the base of the plants trunk and lost his balance. The fall was short as his spine collided with the plant specimen. Chris lunged towards him, the aggressive posturing shattered to a look of wide eyed alarm as he pressed his body up against Zeno's.
“What are you doing? Get off of me!” Zeno snapped at the soldier but Chris didn't move. He clapped a hand over Zeno's mouth to quiet him with an accompanying hush. The younger man paused. The musty earthy scent in the room grew stronger, overtaking Chris’ natural pheromones, as the floor started to shake. Something was moving, he could hear it. The leaves overhead rustled as Chris caught Zeno's wrist holding the scalpel once more and pinned it to the trunk. His other hand yanked the utensil free of his grasp then tossed it aside to Zeno's increasing alarm.
“Do not move a muscle.” Chris warned in a hushed tone. Zeno was perplexed as the soldier pressed their chests firmly together, his head cocked to the side as one ear strained to listen. This close together, Zeno couldn't use his flashlight to see what exactly was going on in the chamber around them. Chris’ body was smothering the light. All he could do was listen and strain his eyes as they struggled to adjust to make out the movement of bizarre silhouettes dropping down from the ceiling in a lazy serpentine fashion.
‘What is that thing?’ He had never seen anything like it before. Was it living in the canopy all this time? No, Zeno realized belatedly as it got closer until one of the lengthy, heavy tendrils slid across the expanse of Chris’ back, that it was part of the canopy itself. The soldier stood firm as his body acted as a shield between Zeno and the large slithering limbs that explored Chris’ body. The quiet grunt from the soldier and the increasing pressure of his torso pushing into Zeno's warned that the plant-like appendages were quite strong as they shoved blindly against the older man. Chris ducked his head towards Zeno's shoulder that narrowly avoided a wayward swipe of the limb. His face pressed into the right side of the younger man's neck, shoving the hood and protective visor aside as he did so. Zeno was mildly annoyed by the loss of protection, though it seemed inevitable, as neither man could really move in this position. Smaller tendrils crept up Zeno's legs as they wiggled around his ankles and curled against the back of his left knee. He shuddered at the strange feeling as they tugged on his tool belt and pulled at his hips where the smaller loops for clipping equipment to were.
“Quit that.” He warned with a growl of annoyance. His left hand swatted the tendril away that started to pull his belt loose and strain the buckle. The last thing he needed was that breaking.
“Don't antagonize it.” Chris hissed through his teeth, a strained, slightly nervous laugh taking its place as the hefty limb that was sliding along his back lowered to stretch between the soldier's parted legs. It bumped into Zeno's knees where their stances intermingled.
Zeno grimaced at the soldier. “I wouldn't have to if it would behave itself.”
The laugh shifted from nervous to genuine as Chris’ lips pressed against the younger man's jaw. “You're always full of surprises, you know that?”
“What makes you say that?” Zeno puzzled, a single platinum brow rose incredulously at the soldier.
“For starters, you're casually mouthing off to a man-eating plant.”
A man-eating-?
‘So that's why there's no signs of life down here.’ The plant must have eaten everything remotely prey like that came into the chamber. He didn't realize that there were bioweapons like these out there. Zeno had been under the impression that only fauna could be affected by the different virus types. He was aware that certain plants could host the viruses, but not that they themselves could be influenced and mutated by them. This truly was a fascinating revelation. Yet Chris seemed to be well versed in handling these types of bioweapons already.
“You've had experience with these before then?”
Chris’ mouth quirked into a crooked smile as he straightened his head up enough to meet Zeno's eyes through the lenses of his glasses. “You could say that.” A moment later the vines stretched up his back again forcing the older man to duck his head back down to shield it from getting hit by the clumsy limbs.
“Elaborate.” Zeno demanded. Chris huffed out a laugh followed briefly by a harsh curse under his breath. The older man's body was shoved hard against Zeno, causing them both to feel the discomfort of the pressure as another large hefty vine joined its companions in exploring the anomalies that had entered the chamber. Zeno suspected that as long as they didn't struggle, the plants would eventually leave them alone.
“The first and only time I encountered a bioweapon like this was in the Summer of ‘98. Right here in the Arklay mountains.” Chris’ answer was uttered through a grimace as the second vine bumped into his ribcage and yanked on the strap of his rifle. He moved his arm to allow the plant to pull the whole thing away from him. The gun was yanked free as the vine toyed with it for a moment before unceremoniously dropping it to the ground beside Zeno's abandoned tool kit.
“What were you doing here?” He didn't recall when exactly the BSAA was created, but he never expected them to have been active that far back. Which only impressed Zeno more with the knowledge that Chris had been fighting bioweapons for so long and managed to survive. Even as a bioweapon himself, that was still an impressive feat.
“I'm from Raccoon City, Zeno.” Chris grunted as the hefty vine knocked into the back of his thighs. Zeno felt the heat of the soldier's breath across his bare skin, and the itch of his beard scratching at Zeno's jaw and neck. “This was my home before the incident.”
Zeno didn't realize Chris was a survivor too. Was the outbreak in the city what caused him to become infected? Who was he working for at the time when he was fighting a plant-based bioweapon? If it was the Summer of ‘98, that would have been before the city's destruction happened. He had so many questions, but all of that was set aside as a more pressing concern caught his attention. One of the smaller vines roughly the size of a finger had crept up Zeno's left side. His efforts to thwart their slow climb had resulted in only delaying the seemingly inevitable as one curled against his cheek and found the frame of his sunglasses. It started to hook under the frame to draw them off when Zeno caught the tendril with his fingers and pulled it away from the spot.
“Don't you dare. I will turn you into mulch if you break them.” He warned venomously. The tendril ceased it's attempts and instead took interest in weaving around his fingers to explore. The creature seemed more curious than outright dangerous. If it wasn't so big and cumbersome, he’d consider it kind of charming.
Chris snorted against his neck and shook his head. Zeno rolled his eyes as the plant continued to roam around both their bodies for several minutes. Zeno felt one of the tendrils make its way up under the elastic band of his pant leg while another had slipped down the front of his suit where Chris’ adamant presence had forced it to part open. The protective material came unzipped between the man and the plant’s joint efforts forcing the garment to open and slip down one shoulder. Zeno grimaced to himself. Chris seized the opportunity to plant tender kisses against his jaw unbidden as he rumbled.
“Its not so bad.”
“For you, maybe.” Zeno chided. “I didn't even want to be out here to begin with.”
Chris cocked his head to the side. His honeyed eyes were like embers in the dim lighting of the chamber. Zeno found a strange new adoration for that color, to see it in the eyes of another, and to see the warmth they could hold. He had disliked his own eyes and how they marked him as something ‘special’ and ‘other’. They always seemed cold and predatory, but Chris had shown him just how human they could still be. His open expressiveness was a comfort, and he clearly wasn't afraid to show a more vulnerable side to Zeno. Even now was no exception as those eyes studied him with an eagerness to understand and listen.
“Then why are you?”
Zeno grimaced to himself. He let his gaze wander over the soldier’s hunched figure as more of the large clumsy vines spread around the chamber as their bulky silhouettes danced drunkenly through the darkness.
“Someone had a brilliant idea and all the field work was delegated to someone more appropriate for the job.”
“Which was you.” There was a note of immediate understanding in Chris’ tone that said he was more than familiar with that scenario. Zeno supposed that was to be expected in their line of work. Someone else was always better qualified -and more expendable- than the person making the decisions or concocting the schemes.
“That is correct.”
Chris huffed derisively. “That's always the way.”
Zeno hummed in agreement. A few minutes had passed and the rustling motions had died down. Chris’ full weight started to abate after bearing down on Zeno for so long. He was finally able to properly breathe again without that tight crushing sensation threatening his sanity. He wasn't really sure how much more he was going to be able to tolerate before the urge to hit something just to obtain his freedom overrides his common sense. With a relieved breath filling his lungs, Zeno remarked. “I think it's finally given up.”
Chris grunted in agreement where his face was still buried against the crook of the younger man's neck. Instead of caging him in with force, Chris’ arms had adjusted to hug Zeno's body closer as he pressed attentive kisses to the younger man's neck and jaw. The older man seemed far too preoccupied with the gentle lavishing of affection to really care about the bioweapon threat that presently surrounded them.
“Give it a few more minutes. It's probably got trap roots all over the floor of the chamber just in case.” Chris never even looked away from his impromptu self asserted task as he spoke. Every word was pressed into Zeno's skin as the older man nuzzled him, burying his nose into the soft skin along his neck. Zeno rolled his eyes.
“Trap roots?”
“Mmhmm.” Chris offered no further elaboration. His right hand settled on Zeno's left hip as his other hand reached up to caress the side of the younger man's face. His calloused palms were familiar and comforting with the faint scent of gun oil clinging to them despite their apparent cleanliness. Those strong sturdy digits stroked through his hair affectionately as Zeno reluctantly gave into the gentle teasing. It was hopeless to expect Chris to be semi-functional at the moment, as he had come to that odd conclusion.