My Choomba the Roomba

“Eager,” he growls against Leon’s mouth, taking the younger man’s bottom lip between his teeth, then letting it go. “You two been thinking about this?” he asks, turning his own cravings around on you both. Like he wasn’t the one pacing around his own room, wondering if he could indulge in this just one more time. 

Neither of you call him out on it, though. “Maybe a bit,” you murmur against Jack’s ear, and heat rushes through him. 

“Then what the hell are you still doing dressed?” Krauser asks the two of you, earning a shared glance over his shoulder. 

“Giving us an order to fix that, sir?” you ask, like you’d like nothing more.

Jack’s answer is simple. “You bet your ass it is.” As hungry as he is, Krauser’s become a glutton for punishment in some ways. The self-inflicted kind always feels best, in his book. That’s why, as much as he loves the feeling of your hands and Leon’s all over him, he steps out from between you both. He sits on the edge of your bed, then, legs parted, forearms resting on his knees. “Give me a show.” 

Watching the two of you is an old vice - a relic of a time long gone when the best he could hope for was glimpses of this. Now? He relishes as your arms come around each other, as your lips meet easily, like they belong pressed against each other. Jack takes a deep breath at the sight before him, eyes already dark as your hand slides between Leon’s legs, only to run back up the length of his chest. 

You both take your time, stripping each other of your clothes like it’s something you rehearsed. Practice makes perfect, Jack knows, and it isn’t long before you’re both skin to skin before him.

It’s torture in the purest sense, but Jack drinks in every moment readily. He always does. He likes it this way; starving himself for what he wants, putting that meal right in front of himself, just to see how long he can hold out. As he sees Leon’s tongue slip between your teeth, it’s enough to make him strain against his half-undone pants. 

He can see the adoration in every move. The desire. The love. 

“That’s it,” he praises, his voice thick. “Give me something good to watch.” 

Just as you both always have. The jealousy that once tore into him now just gnaws at his heels, enough to make Jack’s blood run hotter, and hotter, and hotter . . .

The ache of it becomes too much, but he’s determined to give as good as he gets, and once Leon tilts his head to the side, your mouth running a line down his throat? Once Leon’s eyes meet Jack’s own? The former Major leans back, making a show of palming himself while he takes you both in. 

Whether it’s that sight, you taking Leon in your own hand, or some combination of both, the younger man groans. 

“You like what you see?” Leon’s smart mouth hasn’t faded.

Krauser smirks at it more easily, these days. “Ain’t half bad.” 

That earns your attention, and you pull away from Leon’s throat with an offended look. “Come on, Krauser. You can do better than that.” 

“So can the two of you,” Krauser shrugs. “Thought I told you I wanted a show.” 

Leon scoffed, breathless as he shook his head. “Impossible to please, this guy. Always has been.” Jack knows that he’s speaking of more than just these more recent visits, but of long days under sweltering heat as the Major snarled at him to run one more lap. 

Then, if you’d have looked at him the way you are now? Well . . . if he’s honest with himself, he probably would have caved then, too. He just might have put up more of a fight about it. “He’s all bark,” you reassure Leon, mouthing at your lover’s jawline, even as your eyes remain on Jack all the while. 

“I can show you some bite, too,” Krauser promises, but you just laugh in return. 

And by the way you speak? That tinge of excitement in your voice? He can tell that what you say next isn’t just some passing threat, but something you’ve been waiting to spring on him for a long time. “Careful, Krauser. Bad dogs get leashed.” 

He hadn’t been prepared for the rush of something white hot and inescapable through him that follows those words. 

He should have raged at them. He would have, once upon a time. Before he'd lost everything and been given a second chance he wasn't sure he'd earned. Even now, some part of him bristled at the threat, wanting to stand and push you against another wall, and show you both just how hard this old dog could bite. 

You both knew him well enough to understand that, too. Which is why, Jack was sure, Leon went on. “I don't know that he's ready for all that yet, baby,” he said, too cocky by half. 

With the promise of something untested and new in your eyes, you looked back to Krauser. “Hmm, maybe he’s not.”

It was a head game, Jack knew that. Framing this not as submission, but as a challenge. A test of will. 

And if there was one thing Jack Krauser would never do, it was back down from a challenge. So, leaning forward once more, he all but ground the words out. “Give me your best.”

Leon’s smile is one of surprise, but yours? You wear wickedness like diamonds, looking at Jack like he’s your latest prize. He’s not so prideful that he can’t admit how good it looks on you. 

That pride does take a hit, though, when you prove how serious you are when that collar is fitted around his neck. 

For the life of him, he doesn’t know why he’s letting you both do this. It’s anathema to everything that he’s supposed to be . . . but he does know that having you hold the leash at his throat makes something in him flare to life. “I’m guessing I have Kennedy to thank for letting me borrow this?” Jack rasps, glancing down at the black leather, then back up at the two of you. He’s still seated on the edge of your bed. Leon had rid him of his shirt, but the fabric of Jack’s pants is now more strained than it was a moment ago. 

Leon’s eyes catch on it, but he takes pity on the Major and doesn’t mention it. Instead, he shrugs. “We share a lot of things in this house, Jack. Thought you knew that by now.” 

By the grin the two of you share, you aren’t ashamed to admit it. 

He doesn’t understand that. He doesn’t quite get how either of you can fully give yourselves over. He doesn’t intend to, after all. Even if you have him leashed, he’s not gonna be obeying you forever. 

He just wants to see what the two of you will do. That’s all. He just wants the challenge of this, nothing more. 

Nothing more . . .

“Not too tight?” you ask, and Jack just looks up at you with a raised brow. 

“You gonna fuss or are we gonna do this?” 

That gets him a soft laugh. “Now who’s eager?” You tug a little on the leash, and Krauser just grits his teeth as it makes the ache deepen between his legs. 

“Just get on with it.” That’s all he can say. All he can do as you look at Leon with a smile, as Krauser enters new territory with you both yet again. It’s not supposed to be like this. Nothing about this is supposed to be like this, but he doesn’t stop it. He could - you all have those rules readily established, but he doesn’t. Not even as you climb up onto the bed behind him, your knees making the mattress dip.

Krauser just sneers at Leon as your warmth presses against his back, familiar and almost comforting as your free hand smooths up his scarred arm. Like it’s precious. Like it hasn’t dealt pain to you both in the past. He thinks about what it must be like to have that touch always. What it’s like for you and Leon to be able to reach for each other when you need to, to have that warmth available always.

That thought makes him strengthen his resolve to keep his composure. 

However difficult that might be. 

“Now,” you all but purr in his ear, “be a good boy and stay. No touching, got it?” 

Krauser scoffs even as his throat tightens. “Sure.” 

You pull on the leash again, the collar pressing gently but decisively into his throat. “Try again.” 

He’s at war with himself as he grits out. “Yes, I understand.” 

It’s enough for both of you, and then Leon is moving forward, kneeling in front of the bed. He smooths his legs up Krauser’s thighs. “See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?” 

“Fuck off, rookie-”

Another pull of the leash, more definitive this time. “Be nice,” is your command, murmured into the side of Krauser’s throat, just above where the collar sits. You’ll both pay for this later, but for now? As Leon undid his pants the rest of the way and took him in his mouth? Krauser may have been good at giving orders, once, but he was just as good at following them. 

It was just more difficult when Leon was bobbing his head, those perfect lips around him while you whispered praises in Jack’s ear. 

“There you go. Being so good for us . . .”

A muscle in Krauser’s jaw ticked, strained from the tension he held. Heat had long since settled in at his neck and cheeks, and his thighs were taut as he dug his heels into the floor. Everything in him wanted to move. To grab a fistful of that soft hair and thrust his hips up into Leon’s mouth. 

So why wasn’t he? 

“Such a good boy,” you whispered, and Krauser grabbed a fistful of the sheets instead as Leon took him deep, as you tugged on Jack’s earlobe with your teeth. 

He couldn’t help the grunts that escaped him, or the way his throat bobbed as he swallowed those sounds back. “Just wait ‘til I’m out of this,” he hissed. Leon hummed his response, the sound too close to a laugh for Krauser’s liking. 

Your lips were freer for words, though. “Yeah? Well, if you can hold out for a little longer, maybe we’ll let you touch.” Your tongue swiped up the shell of his ear, the hand that didn’t hold the leash wandering freely over his chest. “Maybe we’ll let you do more than that, hm?” 

He’s not gonna last long to do much of anything, if you both keep this up, but even now, even out of the fight, he’s not one to give up. So even as Leon puts his tongue to deadly use, even as you kiss and nip at what is exposed of his throat, Jack makes himself steel. He’s survived a hell of a lot worse than this, after all, even if each drag of Leon’s tongue makes his fingers flex into the sheets. 

Eventually, though, Leon pulls his mouth away, a string of saliva snapping in the dim light. “Think he’s had enough?” It takes everything in Jack not to chase after him, the length of him twitching for lack of attention.

He knows the pause you give him is deliberate. That it’s meant to toy with him as much as the leash is. The leash, which after a moment, you hand over to Leon, just as the younger man wipes his mouth on the back of his hand. “Yeah,” you answer. “Think he’s earned a treat, don’t you?” 

You’re relinquishing control, and Krauser finds a new thrill as Leon smiles. “I’d say so.” With that, he rises, one hand replacing where his mouth had been, the other tugging on the leash. There was that boldness again, as Krauser found himself pulled into a searing kiss. 

His hands remained at his side until he heard your voice in his ear: “You can touch now.” 

That was all the permission he needed.

His hands were on Leon in an instant, grip bruising. Moans tangled together as one hand took hold of Leon’s hips, all but grinding him down against Krauser. The other reached up for you, because just one of you wasn’t nearly enough. Once he’d kissed you breathless, he turned his attention back to the man in his lap. “You two want a dog?” Krauser snarled, pulling Leon’s hair back to expose his throat. “You need to be ready to get bit.” With that, he sunk his teeth into Leon’s neck. The noise that he got for his efforts was pure music. 

You, without needing to be told, intuit what's about to happen. You slip away for only a moment, and you return with shining fingers as you stand behind Leon. He groans as you prepare him, turning briefly from Jack to steal a kiss only for Krauser to grab his chin and turn him back his way. 

The three of you swapped messy kisses as Leon guided himself over Krauser properly, straddling his thighs. Not one to sit idly by, you return to your place behind Jack, your hand reached between them, taking hold of Leon just as Jack began to press in.

He’s been here before - Leon in his lap, you at his back, the two of you clinging to him as his hips work hard and fast. Once, he’d thought that one time would be enough. That he just needed to get it out of his system, like sucking the poison out of a snakebite. 

As if that was how it worked. As if this venom hadn’t spread through his entire body, playing with his heartbeat whenever he gets the chance to touch you both like this. 

And if this is what finally kills him? In the moment, as pleasure wracks his body, he decides he doesn’t care. Not as Leon moans, his head tipped back, his lips parted. Not as your hand words between them, speeding Leon along to his end. Not as Jack bites the man in front of him again, because he can’t be the only one with this poison inside him. Because maybe, just maybe, he can pour that same feeling into the little breaks in Leon’s skin.

Leon lets him do it, too. Hell, he yanks the leash so that Krauser has nowhere to go but that bare expanse of throat. So maybe he wants that poison too. 

Krauser lets himself believe that when, at last, it’s all too much. The moment his pleasure hits that peak, he lets himself think that you both are just as lost in this as he is. He grunts as he finds his end, his teeth bared to match the collar around his neck. It strikes him, then, how easy it is to play that part. How much the world spins because of this little experiment, how good it felt.

And when Leon finds his release a moment later? Spilling over your hand and Jack’s belly both? He didn’t resist when Leon’s forehead nuzzled against his. Mostly because he was too breathless and the moment was too brief to make a big deal out of it. 

Even if he would be stuck with the splinter of that moment later. 

A hum of contentment from you brought him out of his stupor, as did the feeling of your arms encircling him and Leon both. “That’s my boys,” you smiled, resting your chin on Jack’s shoulder. 

Your boys. 

Fuck if Jack didn’t feel a pang of something terrifying as you spoke those words. Something he was quick to press down. “You had your fun, now get this thing off ‘a me,” he demands as you rise to get a washcloth.

Leon laughs even as he catches his breath, shaking his head and very much not moving from Krauser’s lap. “You didn’t seem to be complaining too much a minute ago.”

A glare was Krauser’s response, even if Leon’s observation is dead on. Your hands are working at the fastening a moment later, though, and before long, Jack’s throat is free. You shift then, so that you’re sitting at Krauser’s side as you clean him up. “Not so bad though, is it?” you ask half statement, half question. 

Honesty isn’t the only thing he wants to give you, but it’s a start. “Nah. But I bet it looks good on you, too.” 

You laugh, and Jack wonders again how he can be given something like that so freely. “Wouldn’t you like to know, soldier boy.” With that, the collar is tossed across the room, landing against the wall, its leash falling beside it. The washcloth follows, sailing into the hamper to be dealt with later.

“Yeah, I would,” Jack grins, bringing an arm around you, all while still keeping Leon in place. He’s had his fun, but not his fill, after all. He’s not sure why he keeps coming back, but he’ll be damned if he leaves without making sure you’ve got what you needed too. And after that stunt you pulled? After collaring him up? Ordering him around? He intends to make it very difficult for you to leave this bed. 

But the collar can wait. “Next time, maybe,” you say, speaking aloud what he was thinking. 

Krauser just hums, rain beginning to patter against the window, before Leon stands - a little shaky - from Jack’s lap. “Next time? I don’t think we’re done here.” He crawls over you on one side, letting Jack flank you on the other. 

“Didn’t say that we were.” Again, you smile as you look between the two of them and it does something twisting and strange to Jack’s chest. Something he will think of later. For now? He just moves in as Leon guides you down, and the kisses begin again.

And in that tangle of bodies? Krauser once more sinks his teeth in, because that’s easier than speaking aloud what lingers in his veins. 

Day 1 | Day 2: Touch Starved/Leashing | Day 3 (Coming Soon!)

Chapter Index

“Well look what the cat dragged in,” he grins, speaking over his shoulder. Jack doesn’t have to ask who he speaks to. This isn’t his house, after all. It’s not his relationship, either. He’s a guest in both. One who can’t seem to find any other port in the storm.

Not that he’s looking for anywhere else. 

When you appear a moment later, something like relief in your eyes, all Jack can do is push past the ache it causes in him. “You gonna let me in before it rains?” he asks, his tone curt not because he’s afraid of the weather but because he’s starved. Still, he asks. Undead creatures needed permission to enter one’s home, didn’t they? And half the time, that’s what Krauser feels like. That’s what he’s here for, because the two of you? Despite all he’s done to deserve your ire rather than your attention, you’re what makes him feel alive. 

It’s what keeps him coming back. Over, and over, and over again. 

As you smile at him now, like there isn’t a ten-foot-shadow behind him and a hundred mistakes weighing him down, he thinks to himself that it’ll be the last time. 

And he can think it all he wants, even if he knows better. 

“Guess we’ve got room for one more,” you shrug, the words too aloof to match the sincerity of your smile. Any sweetness in you is given some bite, though, as you reach forward. Your hand finds his collar, and Jack gives an indignant growl as he’s pulled inside. 

“Watch it,” he warns before the words are crushed against your lips. 

It’s a taste of you, one he’s had a dozen times, and still can’t get enough of. Teeth. Tongues. You kiss like you’re just as hungry for this as he is, and Leon isn’t far behind. He goes for the jugular easily, just as Krauser taught him - though his mouth is a hell of a lot softer than the steel they once traded. He even steps in behind the former Major, hands greedy as they find his hips. Bold. Bolder than Leon was in his youth, that’s for sure. The years have changed a lot of things, though. 

Krauser’s need to win, though, is still mostly intact. 

So, he pushes out with one hand and reaches back with the other, pinning you to the wall of your own home and finding that damn hair that Leon is so proud of. A flash of your eyes and a groan from Leon’s lips are enough for him to savor. “Look at you two.” His hand stays firm on your chest, and Leon’s head is forced at an angle by the hold Krauser keeps of his hair. Both of you could have freed yourselves, he knows that. His scarred body bears first-hand proof of it. You’ve all left your marks on each other, over the years, but here you both are - trusting him enough to let him in. To let him be here. It’s enough that he has to push for his words to hold the authority he once wielded so easily. “I leave for a week, and you forget how this works.” 

Neither of you shrank away at the threat, but then, he wouldn’t expect you to. Nor did he want you to. 

All he wanted was the little curl of your lips, and the little challenge in Leon’s voice. “Well then, Major,” he said, a hand drifting along the line of Krauser’s belt, “maybe we need a reminder.”

Day 1: Devotion | Day 2

Chapter Index

A/N: Happy Metaltango week! I'm a little late to the party and I'm also showing up with an uninvited guest; you, the Reader! I'm using the prompts for this week's Metaltango week, but since it's technically its own ship, I won't be tagging it as a part of the celebrations! Just wanted to turn this tango into a Ménage à Trois!

Shout-out to @strawberrydaiqui-riri for enabling my bullshit

And as you and Leon made your way to the glowing mirror at the end of another unpleasant, muted hallway? As Tatiana bid you both farewell? You knew you’d probably get that opportunity sooner rather than later. 

“So were we the only ones who ran into the creepy nurse in there?” 

Leon’s question was a hell of an ice-breaker as you both returned to the . . . well, it wasn’t the real world, technically. As you returned to the dilapidated shack that you’d both vanished from. There. That was more accurate. 

Whatever the case, Sebastian shook his head. "Yeah, friendly lady."

Jimenez, though? He narrowed his eyes. “You both entered . . . together?” 

You hadn’t really considered that such a thing might be weird, given the rules of this place, but you had to nod anyway. “Yep,” you nodded, deciding to make him feel like he was the crazy one. Gaslighting was okay when it came to evil scientists, right? 

He certainly didn’t seem to appreciate it, but now that you were all back (meaning, now that his two protectors were back), Jimenez was turning towards the door once more. “Well, I certainly hope that you’ve all enjoyed enough peace to see to the task at hand.” 

Right. The hospice. Jimenez’s brother. His patient, Leslie.

You were almost positive that something bad was going to go down the second you set foot in there. When you found a space that looked just as chaotic, just as run-down as the village you’d just been in? Complete with an ominous staircase leading up and a somehow more ominous doorway leading forward? You just glanced at Leon with displeasure, but reached for your newly-acquired lighter all the same. 

“What does this patient of yours look like?” Leon asked, his hands a lot more steady on his shotgun than yours were in your pockets. 

“He’s young,” Jimenez said, at least having the good sense to keep his voice down. “Very pale skin and hair. He must be handled with care if found. He’s bound to be terrified.” 

“Mood,” you murmured, mostly to yourself. It got a snort from Leon, though, so you took that win happily before your favorite agent spoke up. 

“We can search upstairs while you take down here?” he offered to Jimenez and Sebastian, and once again you got the feeling it was both to cover ground and to ask you questions about what exactly Leslie’s importance was. Or maybe he just really didn’t like being around the Doctor. 

Sebastian, now that he had more firepower, seemed alright with it. “Got it. If you find him, just give a shout.” 

You nodded - as if you were at all prepared for operation “Find the Traumatized Kid”. But you were with Leon, and if there was one thing he seemed to excel at? It was finding the traumatized kid. So, willing yourself to be braver than you actually were, you fell into step behind the hero and followed him up the stairs. As you went, you kept your bottle of alcohol at the ready. When you heard movement, you uncorked the top and were about to stuff the rag down its neck.

Leon though, of course, glanced over his shoulder at you, holding up a hand. “Wait,” he urged, his voice just above a whisper. He crept forward, his footfalls entirely too quiet for someone with shoulders that broad. 

You watched him then as he pushed a door open and slipped a knife into the throat of a glowing-eyed villager before they even knew he was there. For a few moments, you waited with bated breath as he checked the room he was in and then followed him in when he signaled. You tried not to look too hard at the tortured visage of the man lying still on the floor - or the several nails that protruded from that visage. Instead, you turned your attention to the axe at the man’s side, dropped in his final moments. Then, re-corking the bottle, you took up the axe in your free hand.

“You know how to use that thing?” Leon asked, his lips curled just a touch. Just enough to make you the right kind of upset.

“Can’t be that different from chopping wood, right?” 

“Not if you’re used to chopping wood that wants to kill you, I suppose.” His grin didn’t fade, and again you took some comfort in it. As much comfort as could be found when standing over a dead body, watching him clean blood from his knife. 

“I think you’re gonna use one in the newest game, actually,” you couldn’t help yourself from dropping that little tid-bit. Even if the game hadn’t come out yet, you’d been damn sure to note the mean-looking hatchet in the Leon reveal trailer - and how good he looked using it. “So maybe you could give me some pointers.”

Right now, though, his twenty-seven-year-old self just looked at you, a bit incredulous before he smiled. “Once we find this kid, you’ve got yourself a deal.” 

Ohhhhhhhhhhhh you were going to pass away, if you got that wish. That was, if you didn’t meet an untimely and horrible demise at the hands of some monster, first. Better refocus so that didn’t happen. 

The room you found yourself in was a mess. Shocker there. Tables were stacked haphazardly on top of one another, and debris was strewn about the floor. There was even an armoire, which you found to be frustratingly empty. So, you and Leon both carefully moved into the next room, only to pause just outside the door when you heard a soft voice within. 

“Fine. Fine. Fine. Fine.” 

No way it would be that easy. No way in hell this shitshow of a game would bless you both with something like that. Even despite the doubts of your jaded, overtaxed mind, as you and Leon stepped into the little room, you found a figure in white huddled in the corner. His hands, pale but caked with dirt, reached upwards towards his head and the white hair that covered it.

A head that turned towards the two of you, letting you glimpse perhaps the saddest face you’d ever seen. His eyes were framed by the deepest purple circles you’d ever seen, and his mouth was downturned into a frown. At least, it was, until he caught sight of you and Leon. Then, panic overtook him and he crushed himself against the wall. Not running, but trying to make himself as small as possible. “No . . . no-”

“Hey, it’s okay-”

“We’re not gonna hurt you-”

Your voice and Leon’s overlapped each other, both of you trying your best not to frighten the kid any further. Easier said than done, especially when a gunshot from downstairs had Leslie on his feet in an instant. “Hurts! It hurts-” 

“Hey, hey-” Leon stepped closer, his hands careful as they reached for the terrified boy’s shoulders. “Leslie, right?” The mention of his name made the panic in those eyes ease, however slightly. The boy nodded, his hands clasped together now in front of him, fidgeting incessantly. He couldn’t meet Leon’s eyes, but he didn’t flinch away, either. “It’s gonna be okay. We’re here to help you. My name’s Leon, and this is-”

Before Leon could utter your name, another voice beat him to it. One cold and devoid of compassion and murmured right in your ear. 

Your heart dropped all the way into your stomach as you whirled around, your hatchet raised, but your swing met air. 

Fuck. Fuck, not now-

The figure you’d intended to hit now stood just out of reach, peering out from underneath his hood at the three of you. Leslie screamed, and Leon was at your side only a second later, his shotgun leveled at Ruvik’s head. Not that the scarred man seemed to care. “Not names that I recognize. Not names the Detective or anyone else in here knew before now . . .”

“I’ll give you a lot more than our names if you don’t back up,” Leon snarled, and you were happy to let him step all the way in front of you. Even if the cold, uncomfortable fear in your stomach told you that Leon being between you and Ruvik wouldn’t matter. Not if he wanted you both gone from his mind. 

When the scarred scientist smiled, stepping closer to the barrel, almost daring Leon to take the shot, your fear turned to certainty. “A trained combatant. One who doesn’t balk at my creations. And a civilian,” his gaze turned to you, then, burned lips turned upwards. “One with knowledge that no one here should possess.”

He’d been watching. Listening. It shouldn’t have surprised you; this was his head you were in. Still, it made the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. Every word from his mouth did. 

“You’re both variables I hadn’t counted on. That interests me. But you’re also standing in the way of what I need.” That razor-sharp silver gaze sliced over you, then, and settled on the only remaining person in the room. And as you looked towards Leslie in turn, the first thing you noticed was that he was no longer fidgeting. 

“What do you want with him?” Leon demanded. 

Ruvik just smiled. “You don’t already know?” He turned to you, then, like he expected more. When next his lips moved, it wasn’t just his voice you heard. Not when Leslie spoke Ruvik’s words at the same time, like they were his own. “I want what was taken from me.” 

You’d told Leon that Ruvik was the source of the “infection” in STEM. That he exerted his will over others. And as soon as it appeared that he was doing that to someone else? That was all it took for the agent to spring into action.

The crack of a shotgun made you cry out in surprise, and in its flash, Ruvik was gone- 

Only to reappear at Leon’s side, just as Leslie stepped up to yours. You were about to swing your axe at the cloaked man, when he and Leslie moved in sync. Both of them shot a hand out, and the sheer shock of something against your throat let you be pushed backwards. Then, you and Leon were both pinned to opposite walls. Leslie stared at you, palm pressing hard against your windpipe, and the sad look in his eyes gone in favor of a cold pleasure. 

“Leslie!” you almost couldn’t get the name out. 

“Uknown quantities-” Leslie and Ruvik spoke as one again, “must have their secrets peeled away.” 

You were being strangled. The thought only registered as you tried to suck in a breath of air that left your lungs unfilled. Out of the corner of your wide eyes, saw Leon being hoisted off the ground. A hundred thoughts rushed through you, but you acted on instinct alone, swinging your hand up. You had enough sense not to bury the axe in Leslie’s neck. You didn’t want to hurt him, you really didn’t, but he didn’t spare you the same courtesy. Not when his grip was growing stronger and stronger, despite his apparent frailty. So, you smashed the wood of the handle against his arm, trying to get it to bend. Trying to get him to let go. 

Maybe you struck hard enough to make the kid’s hold on you waver. Or, maybe, it was Leon bringing his knife free of its sheath and burying it in Ruvik’s arm. 

Leslie released you, his eyes wide with horror as he stammered. “Sorry! Sorry!”

At the same time, you heard something you hadn’t thought to hear at all: Ruvik’s scream. 

The pained sound of it was the first thing to hit your ears, but there was shock there too, even if it was short-lived. As Leslie’s hand fell away from your throat, you had only seconds to gasp for air. Then, there was the shattering of glass, the cracking of wood, and the four of you were somewhere else entirely. You nearly lost your footing as reality changed around you, and when you managed to right yourself, it wasn’t a wooden floor you stood on, but soft dirt. Heat rushed at you, like when you opened the oven after leaving it on for too long, and quickly made your skin feel dry. 

When you finally regained your bearings, the wood and plaster of the hospice was long gone. Instead, a wall of flames stood before you, burning bright against a blue sky. A barn, you realized, in a field of sunflowers. You could hear someone screaming inside, and before you? Ruvik stood, framed by the fire, silver eyes wide with pain and rage and utter shock as he pulled Leon’s knife from his arm. 

Leon, who tried to aim his shotgun at Ruvik from his place where he’d been dropped, only to be thrown back towards you and Leslie by a ripple of reality. 

He grunted as he rolled, coughing and holding the side he landed on. You were at his side in an instant, trying to help him up. To get him ready to run or fight or whatever was about to happen. All as Ruvik just . . . stared at you both. He’d been hurt. He was bleeding. You couldn’t remember anything but fire hurting him, before the final act of the game. 

“Leon-” 

Something slammed against the burning barn doors from within. “Ruben!” A blood-curdling scream. 

It was a girl’s voice. 

You knew that voice. You knew what it belonged to. What, not who. 

Leon stood, blue eyes narrowing as he took in his new surroundings. As he raised the shotgun at the only enemy in sight. 

Even despite the pain he was in, despite the red dripping from his wound, staining his already-tattered cloak, Ruvik smiled as he looked at you both. A mad, manic smile. 

“Run,” was all you heard Leslie murmur before those barn doors burst open. 

Fire burst forth, chasing the fresh air it needed to gorge itself on. Ruvik’s smile and then all of his scarred body flickered and then were gone. 

You sorely wished you didn’t see what took his place. You wished you were anywhere else, being faced down with anything else. Instead, it was your turn to scream - you and Leslie both - as four clawed arms, a curtain of long, matted black hair, and a spindly, burned body emerged. The creature that burst forth from the fire was one you would never forget, from the first time you saw her on a screen all those years ago, to this moment when you realized the specter of Laura Victoriano might be what kills you. 

A shotgun blast halted her advance, though only for a moment. So many swings at him forced Leon to throw himself backwards. And then Laura, still screaming in distress, was lunging for you. 

You screamed in turn, just barely getting out of the way as one of those massive clawed hands swiped at you. You nearly dropped your weapons as you lost your footing, landing square on your ass. 

Leslie cried something behind you as he bolted into the sunflower field. 

You heard more gunfire that rattled your eardrums. 

A shadow came over you, claws like knives arcing overhead-

And then the shape of a man you would know anywhere was there, firing his shotgun point-blank into the head of the monster about to kill you. Blood splattered onto your clothes and face, and you had no thought left in your mind to mourn the loss of your favorite sweatshirt. Not when Leon just barely dodged Laura’s agonized flailing. It was enough time for him to grab your wrist, pulling you to your feet and into the cover of the sunflowers. 

Laura’s cries still echoed in the distance. You could hardly breathe as the two of you dashed forward, Leon pushing through the towering stalks, his hold on you never wavering. You felt like your legs would give out from under you, but soon enough, Leon pulled you down alongside him, the two of you crouching in the field, all while you heard the sounds of certain death in the distance. 

His hand slipped to your back, giving you something to breathe into as you tried to calm yourself. Tried being the operative word, as you heard the erratic beat of too many limbs against the earth. 

She was coming. 

A monster was coming, and as Leon checked his ammo only for his frown to deepen, you knew that you were both in more trouble than you were prepared for. 

There was nowhere to hide but the dirt that you crouched in now. No weapons save for your hatchet, the molotov cocktail that remained unmade in your possession and Leon’s shotgun. His ammo was low, his knife gone, and you faced something that couldn’t be killed half as easily as you could. 

Leon’s arm around you. A clear sky above. Vibrant yellow flowers on all sides. 

Sunflowers. They were pretty. You even liked the song named after them. There were worse ways to die than surrounded by them, you supposed-

No. Fuck that. You weren’t going to die today. Neither was Leon. 

You had a molotov cocktail and a dream, and with Leon at your side? That would be enough.

So, you handed him the hatchet, reaching with shaking hands into your pocket. You opened the bottle once again, as quietly as you dared. Leon nodded at you, resolute, when you stuffed the rag down the bottle’s neck. You would have one chance, and Leon knew it. 

Sliding the hatchet into his belt, he leaned in close. “Stay here, and get that thing ready,” he whispered. 

You knew what he was going to do. Even with the unraveling state of your mind, you knew. He was going to be bait for you. He was going to put himself in danger to give you a shot at this. Trusting you all over again. You weren’t sure you were worthy of it. 

Still, he looked at you, his eyes steady even as you heard Laura’s screams growing closer. “You got this,” he said, like it was a fact. Then, squeezing your shoulder one final time, he rose. 

Back the way you’d come, he walked a few paces away. Enough to create some distance between the two of you. All the while, you took the lighter out of your pocket, holding it at the ready. 

Then, you saw it: the scramble of too many limbs. The cleaving of sunflowers. That wild mane of black hair. 

And between you and her, Leon readied himself. 

It all happened too fast. 

You lit the rag. Saw a massive set of claws rise into the air over Leon’s head. Heard the deafening crack of that shotgun. 

Then, Leon threw himself to the side as Laura reeled from the shot. “Now!” He called, and without thinking, you hurled the bottle, watching it arc through the air. The swinging of those huge, clawed hands was Laura’s own undoing as one of them smashed into the bottle mid-air. 

The next moment, liquid fire spilled over the monster before you. 

But even so . . . she didn’t fall. Didn’t dissolve into those motes of blood like the chainsaw-wielding man had. Even as her flesh further charred, Laura remained as alive as something like her could be. 

Her wails grew so loud you thought they might forever impress themselves into your mind. Her thrashing severed more sunflowers from their stalks, and as she burned? Those flowers that remained began to turn, until all of them were facing you. A faceless crowd, focused on you. 

It should have worked. Was it not enough?

Leon pulled the trigger. More gore sprayed into the air, but it was you that those red eyes focused on. You that, as Laura swung her flaming arm, smacking Leon to the side, were the quarry. 

And as that burning creature flickered in and out of reality, appearing right beside you, all you could do was run. 

You heard Leon call your name. Heard, for the first time in person, what genuine fear sounded like on his tongue. Still, even as he followed, you knew it wouldn’t mean much. 

You had nothing. No weapons. Nothing left to defend yourself with. All you had was your legs carrying you as far and as fast as you could manage . . . 

“Run, run, run, r-” 

Until, as you were looking back at the monster pursuing you, you failed to look ahead at the boy who rushed into your path. You crashed into Leslie hard, the wind escaping you in a rush of sound. 

You were on the ground, then, a terrified Leslie underneath you.

The screaming grew closer and closer.

Leslie grabbed at you, like you could protect him from what was about to happen. 

The smell of burning hair reached your nose as you tried to get up.

Laura, spider-like as she rushed towards you, raised a hand once more and this time, you knew you weren’t going to be fast enough. 

A clear sky above. Vibrant yellow flowers on all sides. 

There were worse things to die surrounded by-

An ache overtook your skull like it was being split open. The ground beneath your body gave way, and just as you saw that horrible set of claws come down, you were falling through starlight once again.

The last thing you heard of that world was Leon screaming your name, the last thing you saw? The yellow of the sunflowers.  

Stars. Dark. Infinity. Nothingness. All of it hurtled past you once more, your eyes wide as you saw what you had been sure was a dream. 

Weightless once more, you screamed as you fell through it all. As some of those stars grew brighter and brighter. 

Closer and closer. 

And as you fell into one, you were sure this time that you were going to die, your body becoming starlight in some distant corner of the cosmos. 

Instead, because it was apparently your best friend now, you found yourself growing very acquainted with the floor. You groaned again, having the fortune to land on your hands and knees this time. Or misfortune. More bruises for the count. 

It wasn’t bruises that concerned you right now, though. 

No, instead, it was how those hands and knees looked. 

Sketch lines. Painted colors. Almost 3-D, but not quite. You had to blink. Make sure that your eyes weren’t deciding this would be a hilarious prank to play on you, after the day you had. Even that attempt at a factory reset didn’t change what you were looking at, though. 

“It’s . . . it’s quiet.” The soft voice made you look up, and what you could only assume were cartoonishly rendered versions of your eyes widened as you took in Leslie getting up in front of you. 

And it was Leslie. Just . . . not in the way you’d seen him before. His face, his hands, all of it bore the same sketch lines that your own body did, highlighting his expression of surprise as he looked around. Anywhere his hospital uniform folded, those lines appeared and then disappeared, as if an artist were drawing them in real time . . .

Oh. 

Oh fuck. 

You looked at the room around you, panic setting in. The space was small, but every surface was covered. Stickers, posters, drawings, medals, flags, all of it lined the walls. Action figures, books, and an artist’s easel were all rendered in the same almost 3-D style you found yourself in. A messy bed was pushed into the corner closest to you, and on top of it? A sketchbook, covered in graffiti-like drawings.

“It’s . . . pretty,” Leslie mused, looking down at his hands in wonder, watching the sketch lines appear and disappear, all while panic set in for you. 

Because you weren’t in The Evil Within, anymore. Hell, you weren’t even home. 

And worst of all? 

The one person you wanted with you most was nowhere to be seen. 

“Leon?” you called, your voice brittle as you stood, desperately hoping he would fall from the sky along with you. 

Instead, you froze as something thwipped against the window. You turned just in time to see something like webbing stick to the glass. Then, a moment later, it was sliding open and a figure gracefully threaded through the opening. He was singing as he went. 

“Needless to say, I’m keeping in check, she was all bad bad, nevertheless-”

Only to stop still as soon as he was up on his feet. 

Young, wide eyes took you in, a black and red mask pulled partially away from a face that took you in with complete shock. You would have known his name even with the whole suit on, though. 

And after a long, charged silence, the first thing that Miles Morales had to say was: “Uh . . . hey.”

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter (Coming soon!)

Chapter Index

At his side, Leon looked at the Major like he’d slapped the girl. She reacted like he had, too. Her eyes widened, a furrow forming between her brows that she couldn’t get to smooth out entirely. “Oh.”

Leon was silent, then, his lips pressed tight together. Even with the judgement, Krauser went on. “You have a problem with that? ‘Cause if you want someone to thank for what happened to the people back there, it’s him.” There was no doubt in Krauser’s mind. If Javier was dealing in bioweapons, then it was him who had released them into the forest and village. Or maybe he’d just been stupid, and they’d gotten out. Either way, the blame fell on Hidalgo, and it looked like this girl could understand that. 

It took her a moment to find words, and when she did, they were set before her with caution. Like they were her shield. “I know he’s done a lot of bad things . . .”

“That doesn’t even begin to cover it-”

“And we want to stop him from doing more,” Leon cut in, his words a hell of a lot more gentle than Krauser’s own. As if that would change the fact that they were bound for bloodshed. “He’s been dealing with people from the Umbrella Corporation. You’ve heard of them?”

“Yes.”

“Then you know that he and everyone he’s involved with needs to be brought to justice.” 

Something in the girl’s expression flickered again. Still, she nodded again. “Yes.” 

Even if she agreed, she didn’t sound happy about it. Which made Krauser’s suspicions raise their hackles. So, as in the dark as he was about his situation, he took a shot in it. “You know him somehow, don’t you?” With the last few days being what they were, he had no patience for anything other than getting to the point. And that point had better end up being something he could drive into his enemy’s side.

He wasn’t sure the kid would answer him, for a moment. Eventually though, she gave a solemn nod. 

Krauser sunk his teeth into the wordless answer. “How?” 

“My mother . . .” she answered, her eyes downcast. “She worked for him.” 

“Worked? She doesn’t anymore.”

“She died,” the girl said, her words making it clear the wound was still fresh. There was no room for pity here, though. Jack didn’t have the strength to carry any more.

“And before that? What was she doing for Javier?” 

“Krauser-” Leon interjected, but the Major brushed him off. 

“Answer the question, kid.” 

This time, when Manuela spoke, she met Krauser’s eyes with a glare. “Housekeeping.” There was defiance in her. Like now she was the one daring Krauser to question her. 

Tough girl. That toughness would help her get through this, if such a thing were possible. But no matter how fucked it was, no matter how damned he may feel for it later, the Major didn’t have it in him to show her concern. Not when she might have the intel he needed.

“And did you ever go with your mom to his mansion?” 

“. . . You want me to take you there?” Tough and smart, it seemed. Still, she didn’t sound any more pleased about the prospect of playing tour guide than she had any other part of this conversation. 

And before Krauser could say anything else, before his exhaustion and grief and rage could make him snarl more harsh words at this girl, Leon interjected. “We could definitely use a guide. And we’ll keep you safe along the way. I promise.” 

Krauser huffed, the dull ache of protest in his arms growing louder and louder as he went on rowing. The current was against him, the great river fighting him every step of the way. How many hours had he been awake? How long had he and his men been on the trail of Javier Hidalgo, looking for his hidden base of operations? And now, here was this girl who might hold the key to his revenge. 

A girl who once more looked between Leon and Krauser, her guard back up. It wasn’t the promise of safety that she seemed interested in, if what she said next was any indication. “You’re going to stop him?” 

The younger man looked to Krauser, then, the judgement in his eyes fading. Instead, the Major just saw certainty in the rookie’s expression. If this was their path, then so be it. So, Krauser nodded. “We’re not leaving until we do.” 

Whatever the girl felt about that, Jack couldn’t say. Not that it mattered. All he cared about was that she nodded. “Then keep going up the river. There’s a dam. That’s where you’ll find Amparo.” 

They had a heading. A way forward. Low on ammunition, energy, and battling against the current and whatever else God threw at them, but there was a path. That was enough. 

“Thank you,” Leon offered the girl a small smile, but she didn’t return it. Instead, she just turned her head over the edge of the boat, looking out at the sun dancing on the dark water. 

⧫⧫⧫

19:56

As much as Krauser had pushed himself, as much as he’d trained to keep himself going even when tired, the human body could only take so much. His skin was hot from where the sun hit it, and his limbs ached. Still, even when he handed the oars over to Leon when his muscles could take no more, he’d tried to keep himself awake. To be alert. To be useful. 

And instead, he felt more anger and shame surge through him when his head dipped and he jolted upwards. The fact that his eyes met Manuela’s immediately when he stirred only made his temper fray more as the girl looked at him with . . .

He wouldn’t accept pity. He wouldn’t take that from anyone. 

Least of all the rookie, who he realized was directing them towards the shore of the river. “What the hell are you doing? We need to keep moving-”

“You need to rest,” came the reply. Krauser wasn’t familiar with Leon sounding so stern. “We’ll make camp for the night.” 

“I told you. The jungle’s too dangerous.” 

“We’re miles from the outbreak. We can afford a few hours.” 

“It’s not just the virus that we need to worry about.” All it had done was given a dangerous forest more teeth. It wasn’t just the animals that could bring them down either, but insects, dehydration . . . but the river had gotten rougher in the time he’d been asleep and the sun was dipping low. 

“And if that thing is still out there,” Leon went on, “then I’d rather fight it in the dark on land than in the dark on the water.”

It was a point not worth arguing. That was how Krauser ended up in the mud, helping Leon to haul the boat onto the banks of the river - even if the water level looked higher than it should. It rose past many of the trees at what should have been the river’s edge, even in the dry season. But if Javier was hiding behind a dam up river, then Krauser didn’t need to guess why the water was high, any more than he needed to guess where the monsters that killed his team had come from. 

Monsters that could, for all he knew, be lurking in the forest around them. Or in the water they’d been traveling on. Nowhere was safe. So, even as his body protested, even as his mind felt fuzzy with exhaustion, he tied the tarp in his pack up to the trees. Leon helped, then set up his own to make the shelter bigger. 

All while the girl stood by, her eyes unfocused and fixed on the ground. Doing nothing. Contributing nothing. 

“If you’re gonna be here with us, you’re gonna pull your weight.” 

The girl’s eyes snapped up, but that wasn’t what pulled focus because, predictably, Leon shot the Major a look. Opened his pretty mouth to speak. Insubordination that Krauser was not in the mood for. “She’s just been through hell-”

“So we all have. And there’s more to come. She wants to survive, she’s gotta work.” 

Before Leon could say anything else smart, the girl spoke up. “Then what do I do?” She didn’t sound enthused. Hell, she sounded downright defiant - this skinny young girl in a torn dress, her feet bare as she stood in one of the most dangerous places on earth, looked at a soldier and had it in her to stand up to him. In her own way. 

It pissed him off. 

“Take that end and tie it lower than the others,” he said, gesturing to the section of the tarp that still hung loose. 

She did as he ordered without another word, wearing a storm as her expression. Still, soon enough, a shelter was up. Just in time for the darkness to truly begin to encroach, the low sunlight choked by the trees overhead. Starting a fire was a pain in the ass, with how wet everything in the forest was, but Krauser managed it with some effort and his own supplies. He could only hope it was the last time that he would have to do that down here.

As if hoping for things had been going well, lately. 

Leon had rations to add to what Krauser had left. Enough for tonight and a few more days, though the girl’s presence would force them to stretch it. Just as well. Krauser had no intention of still being here when the food ran out. 

The sounds of the jungle around them were as much a comfort as a source of tension. Anything could be out there, but at least it sounded natural. He could handle the jungle, even if the call of a distant animal made the girl tense, looking off into the trees, away from her picked-at rations. 

“Just a howler monkey,” Krauser grumbled, taking a bite of his own dinner. 

The girl didn’t snap back this time. Instead, she kept her eyes fixed on the shadows draped between branches. “How do you know?”

“How do you not? Thought you lived here.”

Those fearful eyes flashed towards the Major once more, and he saw more doubt there than he had since she woke up. After a moment, she spoke again, her voice wavering. “How do you know they’re not . . . different?” 

Infected, was what she meant. And the truth? “I don’t. So we need to be ready to move, understood?” 

Another nod was her answer, given after a moment’s hesitation. She was frightened. As she should be. That meant she wasn’t stupid, at least. 

Neither was the rookie who settled into the brush, checking his limited ammo. “I’ll take first watch,” Leon said, and everything in Jack howled that it should be him. 

The kid wasn’t being stupid, though, so neither would he. Leon’s eyes were, at least in this moment, sharper. He wasn’t running off of days without sleep. So, after checking his own supplies and surroundings one last time, he moved to settle against a tree. He tried not to roll his eyes as he watched Leon hand over his pack to Manuela, along with the blanket it held. 

“Here,” the rookie said, “it’s not much, but it’s better than nothing.” 

Still soft, even after all these years. Still thinking that dragging a girl along with them was going to end well for her, or for them. If trained men and women had fallen out here, what hope in hell did Manuela have? 

What hope did any of them have?

That was the thought that kept him from any restful sleep. That and the bugs that kept on biting at him, the sting making him swat at his bare arms in the night. If they were infected, how long would he have? Hours at most? He tried not to think about it. He tried not to think about how there wasn’t an inch of this goddamn forest that didn’t want him dead. 

And he tried not to think about the fact that he’d been left here, discarded like a broken tool. 

Not thinking about that became harder when he heard Leon’s voice, muted against the nighttime noises of the jungle. 

“This is Condor One, I read you Roost.” 

Krauser couldn’t hear the words on the other end of the radio, but he didn’t need to. Kennedy was reporting back to his handler, like a good little soldier. The same way Krauser would have, if the line hadn’t gone silent two days ago. Looking over at the other side, the girl still lay there on her side, her back to both of them. If she’d been awakened by Leon’s voice, she didn’t show it, even as the agent went on. 

“I can confirm the presence of B.O.W.’s down here,” Leon went on. “They overtook the village near where I was dropped. I’d put good money on Javier being responsible for that.”

There was a pause as Leon listened to the person on the other end. 

“No. No eyes on the target yet. I was diverted in the village. I'm heading towards Javier’s compound by water. If you can get me anything on a dam up river, that would be helpful.”

Another pause. 

“I owe you one.”

Krauser leaned forward in the dark, his eyes seeking Leon with the dying embers of the fire. It was enough light to see the younger man’s eyes meet his own as he went on speaking, a hand at his earpiece. Enough to see something unspoken pass between them. 

“This guy's trading in more than just the virus. There were fully developed B.O.W.’s in the field.” 

Jack scoffed. He knew what Leon was trying to do. He was needling at his handler, trying to let them know that things weren't just bad, they were fucked beyond recognition. He was trying to tell them that Javier needed to go. 

Wishful thinking. Krauser knew that whatever his handler thought, it wouldn't change orders. An appeal to any sense of justice wouldn’t matter when it came to orders like these. If it did, then he and his men would have been back state-side, safe and sound. 

By the way Leon's expression remained stone, it was clear the younger man was reckoning with that truth. 

“Understood. Condor One out.” 

That was it. Probably nothing more than orders to keep going, and a standard check-in, maybe some intel about the dam. It was what was left unsaid that interested Krauser more. 

“You didn’t report that you found me.” 

Leon’s shoulders rose, and Krauser could hear the breath he let out. “I didn’t.” 

Krauser let out a huff in return. “I think that would count as insubordination, rookie.” 

He swore he could see those pretty lips turn upwards, just a bit. “Wonder where I learned that from.” There was a time that Krauser would have resented that, but with how things had gone these last few years? Since he met some hotshot Sergeant at a bar? Things had been different. Orders had been becoming harder and harder to follow. And now? “You haven’t been in contact with your handler at all?” 

“Told you,” the Major shook his head, swatting at more ants before they could bite, “they hung us out to dry. Comms were cut.” 

Kennedy nodded. “Then I’ll ask for forgiveness for bringing you back, not permission to do it.” 

“You think they’ll be happy that you brought back someone who was supposed to die? Or that you helped kill someone you were ordered not to touch?” Krauser raised a brow, crossing his arms. “How do you think this goes?”

There was a moment of quiet, space enough for the truth of those words to settle in and make a home for itself. Then that home was disrupted just as quickly as it came to be when Leon shrugged. “I dunno. I guess we’ll find out though.”

If Manuela’s defiance had pissed Krauser off earlier, this? This stupid optimism, if that’s what it was? It made something in him burn. 

“What did I tell you about trying to play hero?” 

Krauser had asked him that question plenty of times before, and Leon laughed like he knew he’d hear it again. “You know, I’m having a hard time remembering-” 

“Don’t be smart. You’re not too good at it.” 

Another laugh - one that almost made Jack forget where he was. Almost. He wondered if maybe Leon forgot for a moment too. Laughing in the dark, trading jokes in the sweltering heat . . . it could be another place. Another time. It could be, but there was nothing worth thinking about but the here and now. The Major knew that. 

And there was a hell of a lot to think about. 

“You know that killing Hidalgo isn’t gonna be easy, right?” he finally asked. His eyes had fallen on Manuela, the girl still unmoving, before he looked at Leon once more. “That’s not just the act. You do this, it’ll be disobeying a direct command. You sure you’re ready for that? For what it might mean?”

In just a few years, the kid’s brow had already developed a permanent crease. Krauser hadn’t seen it relaxed all day - a victim of constantly looking down the sights of a gun or scanning an area for threats. His question didn’t offer relief to that crease. Still, however troubled he may have been, Leon’s words were steady. “I’m sure he’s dangerous. I’m sure he’s the reason the people in that village are dead. So yeah. I’m ready for the fallout if it means stopping him. And I think the world would be better without him in it.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Krauser saw the girl’s shoulders rise and then fall, sharp and small. 

 “Mm,” the Major nodded, turning his attention towards her, speaking on a hunch. “And what about you, kid?” he asked, and Leon’s gaze followed his. “What do you think?” 

There was quiet for a moment. The distant sounds of the river, a cry of a bat somewhere far away. Then, without turning to look at them . . .

“I think . . . if he sent those monsters to the village . . . he did it for a reason.”

“And that makes it okay?” 

“No,” the girl said, shaking her head. Then, softer, almost to herself, she went on. “But if he didn’t have a reason, maybe none of this would have happened.” 

A reason. 

Krauser didn’t think the reason mattered. His men were dead, he and Leon were stranded, and a village was gone.

Maybe Javier Hidalgo had a reason to do all he’d done. Maybe he’d been betrayed by someone in the village. Maybe he was just a cruel bastard. Or maybe . . . maybe he’d caught wind of the squad sent to kill him. The thought had crossed Krauser’s mind enough that it had worn a path there. e

Either way, whatever the cause of these circumstances, it didn’t matter. 

“Doesn’t change what’s gonna happen now.” 

The girl didn’t say anything in response.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter (Coming Soon!)

Chapter Index

As always, even if your mind begged you to obey, you found your body pressing on. Sticking to the shadows, weaving between the yellow light bled by the streetlamps, you approached not the front door, but one of the darkened windows of the house. Unlocked, just as it always was. Just as it had been, when you first came here. 

Now, as then, your entire being was screaming at you to turn around. To walk away. 

Instead, you pushed the window silently open and slipped inside. You had to do this, you reminded yourself. You had to. That didn’t make it any easier to ignore the stuffed animals on the floor of the room you found yourself in, staring up at you with empty, beady eyes. 

You had to do this, so you reached for the door- 

And then you felt someone behind you. A presence pressed against your back. The rough voice it spoke with was one that turned your blood to ice in your veins, and twisted the shrapnel that had spent years lodged in your heart. The same one that called you a coward almost every night when you closed your eyes. 

“Of course it would be you.” 

You turned, expecting to be met with cold-steel eyes and a scarred face.

Instead, the eyes that looked down at you now glowed silver under the shroud of a hood. You didn’t know the man looming over you, but you couldn’t look away. Even as he reached a hand out towards you, taking hold of your chin and making your skin crawl all in one motion. The voice he spoke with was not the one you’d just heard - not the one you’d known from all those years ago. 

“Ah, sweet child. Welcome.”

You had to get away from him. Had to run. Had to wake up-

You sucked in a breath, filling your lungs with the air of the real world. Alive. You were still alive, and with that first breath came pain in your wrists and shoulders, the familiar bite of metal chasing away what sleep tried to cling to you. Your joints protested, bound as they were above your head, the wound on your arm throbbed, and your whole body went rigid as only the toes of your boots brushed the ground. 

Captured. Not killed. The dream that had forced you awake was just that - a dream. However unfamiliar the ending of it had been. 

And the voice that greeted you only a moment after your eyes opened? It was only slightly more familiar. 

“¡Ah, buenos días! Or . . . buenos tardes . . . hard to tell down here, eh?” 

Your gaze snapped to your left, and there, amidst a cluttered room, sat the very man you and Leon had discovered under the cabin. His hands were shackled, resting in his lap, his eyes fixed on you. But your eyes? They focused not on the stranger looking at you, but the man behind him. 

Even facing away from you, even having been stripped of his bomber jacket, you felt something like relief as you recognized Leon sitting back to back against this stranger. 

“Don’t worry about your friend,” the man he was chained to insisted. “He’s still out cold, but he’s alive. Though, it doesn’t sound like restful sleep.”

As if to prove the stranger’s point, Leon shifted in what you had to assume was sleep, his bowed head jerking momentarily before he stilled once more. You held tight to that little piece of relief, even if his circumstances weren’t much better than your own. His hands were shackled above him, bound to the same chain that the man in front of you was tied to. 

A man who, now that you saw him under proper lighting, now that you weren’t so worried for Leon . . . 

Where had you seen him before? 

“Who are you?” The words were more of a demand than anything else. You were sure your authority was undercut by the fact that you were dangling from the ceiling, but that wouldn’t stop you from wielding it.  

And, too disoriented from your dream and the violence that brought it upon you, you didn’t bother to mute your expression, either. So, you weren’t surprised when the stranger shifted under the weight of your glare, even if he covered it with a smile. “You can call me Luis Serra.” 

Luis Serra. 

Luis Serra. 

Fuck, you knew him, somehow. His face and name had crossed your desk some time in the last five years. And when someone’s name crossed your desk, it usually wasn’t because you were being sent to them for a friendly chat. So if you knew this man . . .

“And what can I call you?” He asked as your head pounded, as your focus was caught between Luis and his past and Leon and trying to figure out how the hell you were getting out of here. When you looked at more than just your partner and the man he was chained to, you found the key to your escape behind you - a wheeled surgical cart, one you could just barely reach with your leg. And with your chain bolted to one of the support beams of the ceiling, reaching it to examine what you were up against suddenly became a much easier feat. 

Beyond that, you could multitask. 

There was little harm this man could do to you with a name, so you gave it to him after a moment’s hesitation. 

When he smiled at the sound, all charm, you figured it was safe to assume that he didn’t know your name like you knew his. “I’d say it’s a pleasure to meet you, but, given the circumstances-”

“What do they want with you?” you demanded as you twisted your body mid-air, reaching a leg out to hook your boot under the surface of the cart. Luis shrugged as you dragged it forward. It made more noise than you would have liked, especially with the bowl full of surgical scissors on top rattling, but still. Better than waiting for the towering man who’d captured you to come back. 

Be not afraid. His words rang in your head. He hadn’t meant to kill either of you, and he’d been keeping Luis alive in that basement for a reason. As to what that reason was? 

“Your guess is as good as mine.” 

“They killed the other people we came here with,” your voice was strained as you pulled the metal cart your way, then stepped up on top of it. The wheels of the thing made it precarious to balance on, so you put most of your weight on the chain that held you until you were safely up. “Why’d they keep you alive?”

“My devilish good looks?” Luis offered, and you sent a glare his way. When he continued, his tone was almost as guarded as yours. “But in all seriousness, I don’t know. Guess we all got lucky, eh?” He glanced over his shoulder at the still-unconscious Leon. 

You didn’t believe him. How could you, when you were so sure that you’d held his dossier before. You, who’d been sent to hunt down arms dealers, smugglers, doctors and anyone in between, so long as they were united by one common thread: bioweapons. So here was a man, one you were certain you recognized for that reason, chained in the middle of a town infected with something. 

“So you don’t know anything about what happened to the people here?” You asked, pausing your efforts for just a moment to watch Luis’ expression. 

He was good at hiding it, you’d give him that, but you’d been trained to read people. So, when you saw the way his eyes flashed, the way his lips tightened for just a moment before shaking your head, you had the answer you needed. Even if his words said otherwise. “Not a clue.” He all but proved you right when his eyes glanced towards the chain that held you in place. “That doesn’t look too comfortable,” he observed, deftly changing the subject. “Think you can get out?” 

You didn’t answer. Instead, you examined the shackles around your wrists. They were locked with a key, you could see that much, one that shouldn’t be too much trouble for you to pick . . . but you were unsurprised when you looked down and found most of your gear gone. Your harness was still strapped to your body, but your knives, your gun, all of it was gone. 

So, your attention turned instead to the chain. The bolt holding it in place wasn’t budging, even with all your weight on it. But maybe with enough force-

The sound of a third voice, taking the shape of a forever-recognizable gasp, made you turn. Leon breathed heavily as he jolted awake, his shoulders rising and falling as his head snapped up. You recognized the body language, the labored breathing. After all, for as long as you’d known each other, you’d both suffered from bad dreams. Before, his eyes would find yours through the darkness of the barracks. You’d send him a small but soft smile . . .

Now, Leon just looked up at the chains that held his hands over his head. “Oh, what the fuck-”

He tugged his arms down, and Luis’ were wrenched upwards. “Hey, stop it!” 

Luis’ voice made Leon turn his head - the wrong way at first, of course, so he didn’t see you. 

Then when the very Spaniard in question addressed you, Leon’s head was whipping around the other direction. “See?” Luis grinned, though it was a strained thing. “I told you that your friend was alright.” And you were sorely grateful for that, even if you wished that you hadn’t seen Leon’s eyes brighten with relief when he took you in. “You alright?” was Leon’s first question, shot right over Luis’ head. 

You just nodded. “You?” 

“Fine. Can you get free?” 

The cart you were balanced on rattled a little as you tugged at the chain. “Working on it.” 

“Your partner is very resourceful, I can say that much,” Luis added as Leon got to his feet. “What about you, Yanqui? You got a name?” 

As he rose, Leon looked to you, a silent exchange of a single question: do we trust this guy?

Your answer, given in a stone-faced expression, was simple: hell no. 

After a moment of understanding, he gave only his first name. “Leon.” 

Now at his feet, Luis glanced between the two of you, his voice more measured now. “Quiet type, eh? Well, I’m Luis Serra, as I was saying to your friend.” Leon didn’t respond, instead looking over his own shackles - appearing to be the same kind as the ones you were in, and then turning his focus around the room. “Guess we all picked the wrong spot to vacation, eh?” 

Right. Vacation. You doubted that was why he was here with every bone in your body. All the more reason you had to free yourself. You might have been able to pick your shackles lock with the surgical scissors on the cart, if you could reach them. As it was, the bolt of your chain didn’t seem to want to budge. 

Meanwhile, Leon moved to the opposite side of the room, and Luis was practically pulled along with him. “Hey, stop it!” he protested, and your eyes caught exactly where Leon’s own did - the pulley that their chain was suspended on. “You move, I move, and I’m beat up enough as it is.” 

Leon didn’t listen much, instead giving his own chain an experimental pull. It was just enough that you could see the four nails holding the pulley in place beginning to give way. 

Luis proved then that, despite the lack of response he was getting, he had no intention of shutting up. Even as he moved to help. “I can see your thinking. Bet you two have been in spots like this before, hm?” He took better hold of his side of the chain, just as Leon pulled his over his shoulder to get more leverage. 

Your eyes caught on the strength of his arms, even as your mind was still caught on the question of the other man in the room. “You seem pretty calm yourself,” you observed, making Luis turn back towards you. 

“Ah, well, I do better with company. Safety in numbers and all that.” 

“You say that,” you went on, pausing your own efforts for a moment, “but you don’t know what we’re here for.” It wasn’t quite a threat, but you hadn’t exactly pulled the punch of those words, either. And as soon as they landed, Leon stilled too for a moment, listening as the two of you spoke. 

For Luis’ part, he tried to laugh it off - and was more successful than many would have been. Even so, you could catch the way worry salted that laughter. “Ah, well, if you’re trying to say you came out here looking for me, I’m flattered, but my guess is that you’re here for someone else.” When you narrowed your eyes, his smile widened. “Ah, one more guess. Maybe . . . some missing señorita?” 

Immediately, Leon turned, his brow knitted tight. “A young girl?” You expected him to question Luis. Maybe to step closer and seek the answers he needed. The Leon you knew all those years ago would have used a gentler hand than you would have. 

Instead, you found yourself more than a little surprised as the man you thought you knew pulled the chain at his wrists hard, nearly forcing Luis off his feet. Leon dragged the other man closer, until Luis himself was nearly dangling off the ground as you had been, his arms kept above his head. And Leon? He stood directly before him, eyes sharp enough that Luis dare not look away. When he spoke, it was with a tone you’d heard a hundred times in the last five years because it had come from your own lips. 

“Talk. Now.” 

That was all the incentive needed, it seemed. “All right. See, heard chatter about moving a señorita.” 

Another lead. One that, with luck, meant the First Daughter was alive. “Moving her,” Leon looked over at you, then back at the man he’d made a captive twice over. He studied Luis for only a moment longer, then let the tension in the chain drop. “Where?” 

Back fully on his feet, Luis had more tension about him now as he answered. “Who knows? But later, I saw some men dragging someone to the old church.” 

Then that would be your next point of investigation, then. Just as soon as you were free of this place. Which, with the combined effort of Leon and Luis pulling their restraints down from the ceiling, looked to be on the horizon. The tension being released sent Luis crashing to the floor, still tied to Leon but much more free than you were, now. Even if the fall made him mutter a curse. 

Of course, with the clanging of chains and the sounds of your voices, you supposed you shouldn’t have been surprised when you heard voices from the entry behind you. 

You were about to have company, all while your hands were bound and you were balancing on a wheeled cart. Add it to the list of bullshit for the day, you supposed. “Leon-”

“Maybe you were right. Hanging with you two? Not healthy-” Luis grumbled, pushing himself up just in time for your latest friends to arrive. Just in time for you to have to dance to the side, just in time for an axe to swing by where your leg had been. The cart nearly tipped over as you moved, and you bared your teeth with the effort of keeping it balanced - of giving yourself a surface to push off of for as long as you could have it. The man holding the axe meant for you staggered forward, and Leon pulled his chain again, once more making a ragdoll on a string of Luis. Even if the motion saved the man’s head from being chopped off. 

When the second attacker came in, though, there was no one to save you but yourself. No, your focus shifted entirely to the knife coming your way. Short weapon, short reach. Your kick was faster - and had longer reach. Enough to crash square into the man’s chest, creating some distance. 

You glanced back just in time to see Leon and Luis whip their chain forward, snapping the metal right into the head of their attacker. You couldn’t afford much more, though, as your own man came forward again and for the second time that day, you were fighting while suspended in the air. 

And you were well and truly fucking done with it. 

You had more mobility in these chains than the trap you’d been caught in, though. And even if you didn’t have the gun you’d had then, training and frustration were enough. So, you gathered more of the chain you were hanging from, and when the second attack came, you were ready. Another kick - this one arcing from side to side - sent the man crashing into the wall closest to you. When his knife clattered out of his hand, you moved.

You lifted yourself forward, kicking a little off the cart for the extra momentum. Just as the villager pushed himself off the wall, your legs were over his shoulders. One calf wedged itself beneath his chin, pressing hard against his windpipe. The other, you used to hook that chokehold in place, squeezing with all the pressure you could manage. 

The man beneath you fought against his death, his breath choked. You could see his red eyes looking up at you as he tried to slip free, but you held firm. Nails dug into the fabric of your pant legs, the cart and its contents clattered to the ground as it was knocked over in the struggle, and you nearly lost your hold on the chain above you as your assailant staggered. 

But still, with a snarl of effort, you held on. 

The new angle you found yourself in let you see the other half of the fight. The first attacker, the one with the axe, now was strung between Leon and Luis, the chain looped around his neck. He swung his weapon desperately, but it was all for nothing when Leon turned bringing a leg up over the chain . . .

Then, looping it under his knee, Leon put all his weight down. Even over the choking sounds of the man in your hold, the sound of his comrade’s neck snapping filled the room, clear and final. 

Skilled. Brutal. More ruthless than you’d been prepared to see from Leon. More than enough to remind you of his own words; you’d had the same training. Faced much of the same horrors. And for the first time since you came to Spain, you were forced to accept just how capable Leon was. 

How dangerous you both really were. But then, caged dogs always bite hardest, don't they?

The villager’s body went limp, then collapsed to the floor - Luis alongside him. Leon, though, was back up in a moment, only to go still as you hoisted yourself up higher. Your arms all but screamed in protest, but you managed to hold firm, taking your victim completely off the ground, his neck crushed between your legs. The added weight of his body acting against him and the pressure of your hold? It wasn’t long before you felt his vertebrae crack as well. 

And Leon just . . . stared as you lowered yourself, then let the man drop to the floor.

It was only a moment - one where you barely had time to breathe from the exertion you’d just gone through - before you registered Luis reaching for something. There was the clinking of shackles, the jangling of chains falling, and then Luis Serra was backing away from you both, a little key in his now-free hands. 

And even with all you’d just done, your chains remained securely in place. 

“You’ll stop and unlock us if you don’t want to make things worse for yourself.” The warning didn’t have the bite you wanted it to. Not when Luis held all the power, now. Not when he just shrugged. 

“No hard feelings. Scary as you are, I’ll take my chances.”

Your eyes went wide as you realized you were about to lose a potential quarry; that someone who might well be behind all of this was about to get away. And you could do almost jack shit to stop him. 

“Hey, we’re not done here!” Leon rushed forward, only to be stopped by the body he’d effectively just anchored himself to. Even you tried to swing a leg out at the man to stop him, but he dodged right past. With nothing to kick off of, you were stuck.

And Luis was practically out the door as he gave you both a wink. “Later, amigos.” 

With that, he was gone. The fact that he tossed the key past you and onto the floor was the only reason you might let him live, the next time you met. Might. 

“Fuck,” you hissed, frustration poisoning you as you swung there, boots scraping the ground once again. Just when you thought this mission couldn’t get any worse, it found new and inventive ways to prove you wrong. And now you were dangling from a chain once again, with a potentially dangerous man loose, and you were no closer to completing your mission. 

Though, hopefully, with any luck, you were closer to being out of here, at least. 

Leon shook his head as he went for the key so mercifully thrown to you both, grumbling as he went. “Hang on.”

Not that you could do much else. 

You were just glad that the key worked - that Leon was free but a moment later. He made his way over to you, then, reaching out to steady you. He couldn’t have been thinking too much about the how, because as soon as his hand landed on your hip, warm and steady, his eyes snapped up to yours. He’d stopped your momentum, but he just as quickly pulled his hand away. “Sorry,” he muttered, but what came next all but voided that apology before you could figure out how to feel about it. 

You stared at nothing in particular as Leon reached up with the key, his body close enough you could feel the warmth radiating off of him. He’d always been warm, though. Just another thing you wished you didn’t remember as well as you did. Just another thing that was hard to forget with him being so close. 

Fuck this mission, was all you could think. At least fate had the decency to let the key work on your shackles too. 

Even if, when you were free, when you landed fully on your feet, Leon held out his other hand to steady you. 

That too, though, he quickly pulled away, like he would be burned if his touch lingered for too long. Just as well. You had places to be. Still, you muttered a “Thanks,” to Leon as he stepped away.

He nodded in return. “Any time. Guessing they took all your gear too?” he asked, eyes sweeping you for anything they might have missed. 

No such luck, it seemed. “Yeah. But they left us enough to make do.” With that, you reached down and took up the knife from your fallen enemy. It was, frankly, a piece of shit; more meant for the kitchen than anything else. Still, if it was sharp, you could use it as much as Leon could. “Here,” you spun it, offering it to Leon hilt-first.

Only for him to shake his head, going instead for the hatchet of the man he’d killed. “Think I’ll switch it up.” 

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter (coming soon!)

Chapter Index