Chapter Text
04 NOV 2024 04:49 a.m.
You couldn’t help but think back to the choices you made, or the ones made for you, whenever you were caught up in situations of life and death. When panic threatened to overtake you, when it felt like fear was clawing its way up your throat, your life just happened to flash before your eyes in the span of a few seconds, a collection of your greatest hits and unanswered questions within the blink of an eye. You always wondered what it took to lead you on this path. Would you be here if your had pursued something other than medicine, or if you hadn‘t studied it during military service? You definitely wouldn‘t be dealing with this mess right now if you were just a regluar doctor working in some no name hospital with regular, boring colleagues.
Nah… it was none of that. It wasn‘t your pick in career what made you end up here; it just got you there with less complications. It was the choices you made on a single day that changed the whole trajectory of your life. It was the moments you had chosen to push and fight for your survival instead of succumbing to the gruesome, abominable horrors you were encountering while stupidly exploring one of those lost places with your late friends. The site you happened to visit almost 20 years ago used to be a secret compound focused on engineering bio-weapons, an abandoned death trap you and your friends had unknowingly walked into. You were the only one to make it out alive thanks to your military training, but it wasn‘t enough to save the people closest to you. That day you lost your support net, people you loved and confided in, people who held you when you needed it the most, and God, if you didn‘t feel incredibly guilty for it. You blamed yourself for the death of your friends, for their blood on your hands, and if you had been faster, stronger, smarter, they could have made it out alive with you — or better — they could have lived while you rotted six feet under. A noble sacrifice, you thought.
You barely remember the moment you got rescued; all you knew is that you weren’t given much time to heal, to grief, or to drown in your guilt and sorrows. With no choice but to work for the government you went through more extensive training that left your days in the military seem pale in comparison. And only because of your background in medicine you were given the opportunity to dive deeper into the sciences, to learn more about virology and the necessary labwork, until the founding of the Department of Security Operations in 2011. With your resume and skillset, you were an easy choice for the recruiters who desperately needed capable agents for their new division (and someone to cover their best agent‘s back).
You came into Leon‘s life unexpectendly. Unwillingly. The last thing he thought he needed was a partner. And God forbid, he would drag someone down the same path he had been forced to walk upon — someone who would face the same threats and monsters some bastard with a fucking God complex cooked up in a lab. He couldn‘t be the reason for anyone to face such great danger, so he would rather carry that burden alone, not realising how similiar your experiences already were. But you weren‘t really fond of working with him either, not because of him specfically — although his behaviour at first did not do him any favour — but because you just wanted to avoid field work altogether. You would have rather gone back to the labs and wasted away there for all you cared. But you didn’t have a choice but to make the best out of your situation with Leon.
Thinking back, neither of you could believe how he used to act at first like a broody, petulant child. To this day, he still felt ashamed for ever stooping so low, for his desperate attempts to push you away. He tried, unsuccessfully, to get you assigned to some other ‚unfortunate‘ agent within the division. You, however, did not allow him to ice you out despite your previous attitude about him. You proved to be stubborn, and so did his superiors, forcing you two to keep working together. So over time, you got to know how uncharacteristic Leon’s behaviour had been compared to his true, gentle and caring nature. And that precisely was his problem; he cared.
From the beginning, he cared for your safety, for your wellbeing, and fuck, he never wished for you to end up like him, severely traumatised and broken. That care, no matter how innocent it was, had the potential to grow into something more. And that scared him shitless because he never had any luck in developing long-lasting attachments; not in this line of work. But working alongside one of the smartest and kindest combat medics only made him respect and care for you more than he first allowed himself to. So from mutual respect and care an unsual but strong friendship blossomed which, over the years, grew quietly into something more.
You sought each other out whenever you could. Lunches that used to be spent alone at the office were eaten together in company at the cantina. Whether it be at the gym, the shooting range, or the cozy break room at the office, time wasn‘t spent in solitude anymore. Those changes didn‘t occur only at work, but blended into your personal lives too. You lost count how many nights you‘ve spent drinking together or riding around on your motorcycles. Conversation flowed along with the alcohol, and together you had broken through each other’s walls until only crumbles remained. To think that in 13 years of friendship you had never made a move on each other. But God, did you want to.
Too many times the thought had crossed your mind. Whenever your hand lingered too long on his skin as you patched him up, whenever he cracked one of his stupid jokes to cheer you up, whenever he grabbed you too tight as he looked you over in worry, making sure you were okay. But you never dared to cross that line in fear of destroying what you had built over the years. You were disfunctional, too traumatised, and maybe too dependant on him at this point. Already the simple thought of losing him knocked your breath out of your lungs. And the possibility seemed closer than ever tonight as you sneaked hurriedly through the worn down halls of the Vance Clifford Psychiatric Hospital.
After the mental rerun of your life choices, what-if scenarios, and fantasies about an unattainable future with Leon, dread quickly took hold and spread through you, settling deep within the pit of your stomach as you aimed your flashlight into the dark, empty room ahead of you. You had promised Leon to be back in time, but what you had stumbled upon unexpectedly delayed your search for aid. Now that you knew what was at stake you desperately needed to find your partner, but… he wasn‘t where you had left him. He was gone. After dread followed an immense feeling of guilt, just like 20 years ago. It’s your fault, you should‘ve stayed but you left him behind, you thought to yourself. You hissed in frustration, your knuckles turning white as your fingers flexed around the cool metal of your flashlight. Cold sweat trickled down the back of your neck… Fuck! Then—
A scream followed by a heavy thud, then silence. Ominous and suffocating.
You didn‘t even think before your feet carried you into the direction of the tumultuous sound, your mind throwing out any remaining rational thought. You were running on pure instinct now and it screamed at you to find Leon — whatever the cost. Your blood ran cold as you imagined thousands of unpleasant scenarios in your mind, and as your eyes darted around in panic, your throat constricted, breath after breath growing weaker as fear kept consuming you. But you kept moving even as the hallway seemed to stretch endlessly, and that putrid, metallic stench, that lingered within these walls, grew stronger the closer you got to the source of the noise. You barely registered that you halted when your heartbeat thundered in your ears, drowning out the heavy breaths and low groans coming from the shadowy figure cowered down in front of you.
Your flashlight eerily illuminated a man’s body hunched, not cowered, over a lifeless, twitching corpse, his head lowered into the crook of its neck. Before you could even suppress it, a gasp escaped your lips, alerting him, his head whipping around in your direction at the speed of sound. His eyes looked icier than ever, almost pure white, bloodshot, and lacked their usual warmth he used to look at you with. It was Leon. Your Leon. And even with his lips smeared in blood, all you could think about was how it would feel to kiss them. But your yearning for him quickly halted the moment he leapt towards you with his brows furrowed into a scowl, lips curled into a snarl, and eyes wet with brimming tears.
Time passed agonisingly slow in what you thought were your last moments alive — like back in that lab when you hopelessly waited for death to catch up to you. In that moment your feelings were quite clear, clearer than you ever thought possible. Regret. All you felt was regret for keeping your mouth shut, for wasting all those moments you could have held him, kissed him, loved him. You hated that you had let fear consume you, that you had never spoken up about your feelings for him. But what you hated most was how he would feel after your death, how he would drown in guilt and self-hatred for killing you. You also hated that despite his anguish, you thought it was a beautiful way to die by his hands, or his teeth sinking into your flesh, ripping you apart so he could feed on your blood.
So if you were to meet the grim reaper in the shape of Leon tonight, you‘d welcome death with open arms…