#soloact

“ that makes two of us, then. ”

they have never felt like they belonged; even long ago, when they had a place to call home and bonds with brothers and comrades alike, theo had been keenly aware of how he differed from the rest. none of them had the emotional sensitivity he did. if they had tired of the war like he had, he hadn't been able to tell. among friends, among brothers, among soldiers, he had been the one puzzle piece that didn't quite fit. an edge with too many sharp corners when he should have been a middle to bring the whole picture on the box together.

he looks down at his hands, callouses and scars making up the surfaces of his palms, the bony bumps of his knuckles, and pushes through the weight of those memories.

“ perhaps there's some comfort in that - knowing you aren't the only one that feels out of place. ” they offer a slight, encouraging smile, warm despite its size. “ being lost isn't as bad when you have company. ”

“ on the contrary, ” cain drawls idly, reclined lazily in the office chair he's wheeled into the room, “ i think that i can. ” it's not the stranger's - agent leon kennedy, if the identification card in their wallet is anything to go by - fault that they stumbled into an active crime scene. wrong place, wrong time, as they say. the wrong place happened to be a mostly uninhabited warehouse pushed shoddily up against the beach, with rust on the roof and broken glass littering the floor. perfectly unassuming, if not for the fact that the wrong time happened to be coming across cain the moment he sunk the man's own army-issued pocketknife into the hollow beneath his jaw.

there was no alternative option.

cain spins slowly, tugging open the remaining pockets of the wallet in his hands and rifling through the items found within. he's not worried about the restraints at the moment; he checked them over three times and added a little extra flair with a thinly veiled threat of violence.

“ division of security operations, ” he reads, lowering the badge just enough to peer at leon over the edge. “ sounds like law enforcement, which isn't a promising sign for you. what's agent leon kennedy doing in a place as lackluster as this? ”

@soloact​ : i’m just impressed you made it in one piece.

“ you’ll find i’m one tough bastard. “

spoken in dry tones and with a notable lack of humor, sebastian leveled his unexpected companion for the evening with a hard stare as he dusted himself off. stubborn bastard, resilient devil--whatever half-compliment, half-insult slung his way about his tenacity was always correct, for no matter how many times he may fall, always would he get back up.here and now was no different, that rough little tumble out of that apartment's window nowhere near enough to put one sebastian castellanos out of commission.

he dealt with worse.

     it almost sounds like a confession, conviction a steal undercurrent in leon’s voice. OR-10N looks over his shoulder, back to the man, but leon is similarly not facing him, only the smooth line of his throat and the sharp edge of his jaw visible to the android’s optics. why does he worry he will be dragged away, OR-10N wonders? why does his spine curve so, as if a great weight sits upon his back? there is a bell ringing somewhere in OR-10N’s head, warning and harsh - there must be something leon knows that he does not. he ignores the sensors, looks away to study his own hands where they sit confident and sure on his rifle. it makes sense to him in a way devotion never could, but the response comes to him easily regardless, as if it has always been known.