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„How long can we keep on doing this?”, Leon's voice echoed through the empty hallway, one hand heavily leaning against an open doorframe... he knew this question was futile, knew that they in fact wouldn’t be able to keep on going like that for much longer. Chris gently put an arm around Leon's fragile frame, earning him a grunt from the slightly smaller man.
„I hope long enough to get you some breakfast, old man”, he smiled, though his eyes told the story of pain and frustration. What was supposed to be a regular mission turned out to be a catastrophe – something the two of them should have been used to by now, still, it caught them by surprise. Leon coughed up a laugh, bubbly and broken from the blood that slowly started puddling in his mouth.
„Breakfast sounds nice. It’s your time to pay too, Redfield.”
Redfield. Chris shivered at hearing the name, his own god damn name… Something in the way Leon said it always made him feel fuzzy, but this time it was different. They had a talk, not too long ago, about their future, about quitting the fight, about how they both knew they won’t be able to. About marriage, and a house, travel plans, growing old together. It was fun and silly, Leon cracking jokes about how Chris' hip will give out before they even managed to visit a beach together once. And then Leon said something that caught Chris off guard.
___
„Redfield”, Leon mused.
„Hm?”, Chris shifted a little, giving Leon more space to lean against him.
„Redfield”, Leon murmured again, his face gently pressed against Chris chest, calmly listening to the turmoil outside his Washington apartment. „I always thought it was quite a pretty name you know. Fitting for a man like you.”
Chris grinned, nudging Leon’s side slightly, trying to hide the redness caused by the younger man’s sudden compliment.
„Maybe also fitting for a man like me”, Leon continued, slowly looking up at Chris. „Leon Scott Redfield. How’s that sound?”
Chris looked at him, words stuck in his throat. He would’ve anticipated anything, a stupid joke, some funny comment but not that. Never that.
„It... it sounds beautiful, Leon.”
Leon grinned, obviously satisfied with the answer, before closing his eyes. „Then it’s a yes.“
___
Leon’s ragged coughing jolted Chris out of his thoughts.
„Not much longer darling and we’re out of here.”
Leon chuckled, prompting yet another coughing fit. They had to stop, let Leon breathe for a second. Chris turned his head, eyes closed shut for a long moment, longer than eternity if anyone asked him. He knew, he felt it in his bones, and he knew that Leon knew too. That was one of the curses of their jobs: knowledge. Specifically, knowledge of when something, or someone, was beyond saving. Leon was. Even if they made it out with him still breathing, there was nothing anyone could do to help him.
„Chris, if you lea-“
„No!”, Chris snapped, eyes on Leon's within a second. „Are you insane? There’s no one here, nobody is chasing us. The infected are dead, we just have to walk out.”
„I.. I can’t.” Leon hesitated. „I can’t anymore Chris. It’s... my legs. My back, everything hurts, you have to-“
Chris shook his head, having none of Leon's bullshit. They had a talk about this, about heroism, Leon’s suicidal tendencies. Chris hated it, the idea of self-sacrifice. The idea of leaving someone you love behind to save yourself, the idea of staying behind too. There was no need to play hero in a world where the only thing a hero would receive was a tired smile offered by yet another scared president and, if you were really lucky, a gravestone somewhere outside of Washington D.C. No, Chris didn’t need for Leon to play hero, especially not now. Before Leon could even voice any protest, he was swept off his feet, clinging onto Chris broad neck as the larger man started walking again.
„Chris, you can’t carry me... your shoulder…”
„Shut it. You weigh nothing, Leon, and besides, my shoulder is fine. Fine enough at least.”
Leon nodded, knowing full well that arguing with his fiancé wasn’t of any good, especially now that it would be the last time they’d be together.
„You know”, Chris started talking, trying to ease the tension and fight against the haunting silence „I thought about our wedding.”
„What is new?”, Leon joked, leaning heavily against Chris' shoulder. „I saw the folders you made. A pink suit for me? Really?”
„It’s not pink, Leon. It’s rosé.”
„Ah, you know your colors. What next, eggshell for you?”
Chris smirked, placing a kiss on Leon's head, tasting the sweat and blood that clung to the younger man’s brown hair.
„Would you like that?“”
„Hmhm”, Leon mused, closing his tired eyes. „You look good in everything. Even better in nothing.”
„Don’t think I can convince my sister to have a nudist wedding.”
„Boring.”
„What about you? Have you thought about our wedding?”
„All the time”, Leon murmured, sounding more tired with every word. „Can’t wait to finally bear your name.”
Chris nearly choked on a breath, blinking the tears away that started swelling in the corner of his eyes.
„Leon Scott Redfield. You’re right, it’s a name fitting for you.”
Leon didn’t answer, his head bumping up and down with every heavy step Chris took. Chris knew. He knew, he knew, he knew. The silence was haunting him, making fun of him, he wanted to talk even though Leon wouldn’t answer, but then he might… Chris was afraid to miss the last breath his fiancé would take. The last moment he was truly there with him.
The blood from Leon’s gaping wound that stretched from his right armpit down to his hip started seeping through the hastily applied bandages. He hadn’t been bitten, thank god, but the B.O.W that got a hold of him during their last fight dealt enough damage to finally break Leon's already frail body. Chris wasn’t there when it happened, he was in another room looking for evidence. He was sure Leon could handle it himself, like he always did. Chris didn’t even hear a scream, just gunshots and something dropping to the floor. God, if Leon had at least screamed then Chris wouldn’t have taken his sweet time to gather everything he needed. Instead, it was Leon who walked over to Chris, limping oh so slightly, one hand pressing against the wound. He played down his wound, told Chris that it was nothing, until they reached the hallway, Leon stopping in front of the door and finally revealing what could barely be seen in the darkness.
Chris shook his head at the still fresh memory, there it was again, Leon’s heroism. How this man could still think he was useless and a failure was beyond Chris. Nobody dedicated his life more to saving the innocent, seeing good in every person, like Leon did. And now it would cost him his life. Chris stopped for a second, checking Leon's pulse. It was still there, weak but undeniably beating through his veins. Chris let out a sigh of relief, his fiancé wasn’t dead, not yet. Maybe he would be able to save him still. Chris grit his teeth, giving himself hope was the wrong thing to do, especially in this situation. He started walking again, faster this time, steadier as to not shake Leon's limp body even more. It felt like an eternity of walking until he finally reached the opening that led outside of the tunnel system he and Leon came through. Leon had joked on their way in that every time he took on a mission, he ended up in some fucking sewer system and Chris could only laugh and agree. Now Chris wished for nothing more but for Leon cracking a joke about how much they must stink and that the showers in Europe just weren't the same as the ones in the US.
Chris closed his eyes for a second, letting them adjust to the sudden light that was flooding his senses. He didn’t know how long they had been inside the tunnel system, but it had to be midday by now, looking at the position of the sun. It was freezing cold, nothing surprising in northern Norway, but the heat of Leon's steadily dripping blood kept Chris on his toes. He looked around, trying to make out where exactly he was, when he heard a crack on his radio.
“-tain Redfield? Can you read me, Captain Redfield? Agent Kennedy, anyone?”
Chris let out a breath, it was Nadia.
“Redfield here”, he spoke into the radio, voice muffled as he tried to press the speaker button on his shoulder with his left cheek. “Where are you?”
“Oh thank god, we thought we lost you, Captain, we-“
“Nadia, extraction point! Agent Kennedy needs to get hospitalized ASAP!”
Nadia gasped at the other end, before finally finding her voice again.
“Head north, it’s just a minute from the tunnel entrance. We’re already starting the machines; we’re waiting for you.”
“Great, I’ll be there.”
Chris let go of the button and started running, carefully enough as to not shake Leon more, but fast enough to make it count. His legs felt like giving out, but he couldn’t give less shits about that. It was his soon to be husband that was dying on his arms and if there was something, anything, Chris could do, he would.
The chopper was indeed only about a minute away from the entrance, just as Nadia had said. Piers and DC were already waiting for Chris at the doors, taking Leon on the second Chris stepped one foot on the ladder and steadily laying him on the floor.
“He was struck by a large B.O.W, headwound, a gash on his side, probably pierced his lung and broke a few ribs. A concussion most likely too. He needs medical attention ASAP, and before you ask, Nivans, I only have a bruised shoulder. I’m not the priority here.”
Piers nodded, listening to Chris while examining Leon's body. He looked mangled, way worse than Chris had been able to see inside of the dark hallways. He kneeled next to Leon, checking his blood pressure and pulse, while giving orders to DC. Piers was a veteran at this point, the work in China and the missions after that making him a seasoned soldier who had seen way worse. If Chris would’ve been in another mindset right now, he would’ve complimented Piers on the professional handling of the situation. But Chris was a mess, walking through the chopper as it started to ascend, trying not to cry, scream, jump out of it. All while stealing glances towards Leon, Piers working on him, talking to DC. It was futile, everyone in the chopper knew it. He was still breathing, but for how long, the next hospital was an hour away, maybe more, the blood he lost was too much. There was nothing anyone could do. Chris kneeled next to Leon, taking his hand while Piers tried to stitch together the big wound on his side. There was nothing that could’ve saved Leon, but at least he wouldn’t be dying unloved.
***
“Chris.”
No answer.
“Chris, hey.”
Still no answer.
“Chris, you need to get up.”
Sheva's voice got harsher, still sounding careful though.
“Chris, please. It’s enough, you have to leave. We have to leave.”
Chris didn’t answer her. He sat on the wet ground, grass poking at his jeans. The rain started to get heavier, soaking through his hair and dress shirt. He didn’t listen to Sheva. He hadn’t listened to Jill either, or Sherry, not even Claire was able to move him. Sheva sighed heavily before sitting down next to him. She was the last one to stay, didn’t want to leave Chris alone. She knew how it felt.
“He wouldn’t want you to get sick.”
Chris didn’t say anything, tears streaming down his face like an unstoppable force. His eyes blurry, the wind and rain splashing against him, dripping down his beard right onto his hands. He read the words on the tombstone in front of him, again and again and again. He hated them. He hated them so much. The would’ve been, could’ve been, should’ve been of Leon's life, washed away. He got the hero burial. The smile of a tired and scared President and a grave just outside of Washington D.C. He was one of the lucky ones. And still, the words on the headstone haunted Chris. Will haunt him for the rest of his life. The future that was stolen from him, from his fiancé. The words that said:
Leon Scott Kennedy