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The words “Fuck, Redfield” coming out of Leon’s mouth in a context where neither of them are naked is the first hint Chris has that he might just be well and truly fucked.
“Fuck,” Leon says again, dropping to his knees as he holsters his pistol, “Shit, Chris.”
He grunts as hands press to the spreading stain on his belly, and forces himself not to instinctively shove Leon off him. “Not that bad.”
“You’ve got a gunshot wound to the stomach, dipshit,” Leon says waspishly, “Where the fuck is your vest?”
“Gave it to one of the civilians,” he manages through gritted teeth, “How bad-”
“What the fuck do you think?” Leon swears more when he’s scared, and that more than anything has Chris’ heart rate kicking up, pumping more blood through the tight-laced fingers trying to hold it inside before Leon pulls back to rip his shirt off and press the fabric over the wound instead. He grunts, trying to press a hand over Leon’s, but for some reason, his body isn’t responding. Leon curses again and then says, “Hunnigan! I have Redfield with me, we need a medevac as soon as they can get one!”
“Yes it’s that urgent,” Leon snaps at someone - probably not Hunnigan, she’s too efficient to earn that - “Not a bioweapon, but he’s bleeding out, and we’re both out of medpacks.”
Chris feels… disconnected from that somehow. He doesn’t doubt that it’s that serious, there’s a warning at the back of his head like a klaxon he can’t quite tune out, saying that he’s going to die here, but everything feels too hazy and cold to pay attention to it.
“No the fuck you don’t, Chris. Don’t you fucking die on me.” Leon’s voice is rough as he digs his fingers into the wound, pressing harder on the fabric that’s already soaked through. “Don’t you fucking dare die on me. What am I gonna tell Claire, huh? Can’t go back and tell her I let her brother die.”
Chris snorts and then winces, forcing his eyes open. “Nah, gonna have to-” he gasps for breath, and Leon’s hands tighten into fists, “Skip countries. Change your name.”
“To what, huh?”
“Could always take my name.” It’s a wild thought, but he can’t stop the way it springs out of his mouth without thinking.
“Yeah?” Leon nods to him to keep talking, “What, is that your idea of a proposal?”
He laughs, and fuck, it hurts, blinding-white pain lancing through his belly, but he grins anyway, baring bloody teeth. “Would you say yes?”
Leon laughs, high and hysterical. “Fuck, ask me again after we get you out of here, you got that?” Chris shakes with a hysterical laugh of his own, and then he doesn’t stop shaking, and Leon’s voice drifts in and out of focus as he curses at him again. Then, everything goes dark and quiet and mercifully painless.
Chris wakes up in a hospital, sterile whites and grays and an incessant, rhythmic beeping. He groans a little, wincing at the too-bright lights, and Leon is in his line of sight in a second. “Hey, hold still,” he says, “You came out of surgery a little while ago. Looks like you’re going to be fine.” He looks rumpled, his clothes different than Chris thinks he remembers, but wrinkled, and there’s at least a couple of days of scruff on his jawline.
“Where-”
“Back in DC, it’s been a few days. Claire’s on a flight back, she said to tell you she’s going to kick your ass.”
“Team?” He needs to make sure the people whose lives he’s responsible for are safe.
“They’re all fine, nothing worse than some bruises and scrapes. You’re the only one that took a bullet.” Leon’s hand hasn’t left his. “Fuck, Chris. You scared the shit out of me.” The line between his brows and the twitch of his lower lip give him away, and Chris weakly squeezes his fingers.
“I’m okay,” he says, forcing his eyes to stay open despite the weight dragging them down, then amends his words at the look on Leon’s face, “I’ll be okay.”
“You stupid bastard,” Leon says, “You can’t keep doing this. You can’t keep sacrificing yourself to save everyone around you.”
Chris just grumbles. “Hypocrite.”
“Yeah, and what are you gonna do about it?”
“Marry you, I guess,” he finally says, “Meant it when I asked.”
Leon just stares at him. “You meant it,” he repeats, like he hadn’t considered that Chris would, “Are you kidding me?”
A tendril of fear wraps around Chris’ heart. He knows how skittish Leon is. Is he scaring him away? “No,” he says carefully, “You don’t have to say yes, you know.” He wants him to though, he wants this to be real.
It takes a minute, but Leon finally leans in and kisses the corner of his mouth. “If I say yes, will you let go of my hand so I can tell the nurses you’re awake?”
“If you say yes, I want it to be because you want to.”
Leon sighs, a wry, fond little smile on his lips. “It’s always going to be yes, then.”