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Cursing, Leon stumbled, grabbing a hold of the desk next to him just to stay upright as another explosion shook what felt like the entire building around him. Fucking fantastic, he thought, every time something was supposedly an easy mission, barely a formality, things somehow ended up going spectacularly sideways. This time, too, he was only on site as some kind of a sign of goodwill from the DSO to the BSAA, and Chris was supposed to take the lead with his team while Leon just hung back as a little more than a spectator.
No one had considered the possibility that the BOW peddling asshole that had set up shop in the building would’ve set up pressurized gas containers in the top floors, and as soon as the place had caught fire they’d been running against the clock, trying to get people out. Even if this place had been used as a front for the operation, some of the people in here had no idea what was going on, and they needed to be evacuated as soon as possible. Ideally, they could’ve waited for the fire department, but it was not really an option now.
At least this time Leon didn’t need to try to evacuate the entire building on his own. It had been kind of hot how Piers had barked out orders and directed the team into the different floors, Leon included. It hadn’t even occurred to Leon to argue in the moment, this was one of those situations where they had to act first and deal with the rest second.
Now though, the building was a raging inferno, smoke invading all the available spaces and making it harder to breathe. They needed to get out of here, now. “Piers,” Leon called, flicking on the comm. “Third floor is empty, I’m headed down. You done in there?” His throat was dry and not only because of the smoke, as anxiety settled in his gut.
“Almost, we’re—”
Another explosion shook them, sending books falling from the shelves, along with what little remained on the desks at that point. Leon coughed, leaning heavily against the doorframe as he waited for Piers to continue. There was nothing, though, to the point that it made Leon damn near panic. “Piers, you still there? Piers!?” His voice sounded odd to his own ears, hoarse and rough, and the words were barely out before he had to cough again, his chest aching with it.
The pause was painfully long, but finally the earpiece crackled to life. “—here above you, with two civilians.”
“I’ll be right there,” Leon said immediately, without even thinking about it. He already knew what Piers was going to tell him so he ignored the protests, instead heading up the staircase to the floor above. The air was clearer in the stairway, and Leon took several deep breaths now that he could. Even if Piers would’ve wanted to heroically drag two civilians out of here alone, they had a much better chance at succeeding if Leon went and helped him. It would increase the odds of them all surviving.
Leon took the stairs two at once although his lungs were burning already, grabbing the handrail every time the building shook around him. He at least managed to locate Piers easily, and was immediately glad he had. Piers had soot and dirt on his sweaty face, a concentrated twist to his brow, and Leon sort of wanted to reach out and brush the worst of the dirt off. They didn’t have that kind of a relationship, though, so he flexed his fingers before squeezing them into a fist.
“I told you to get out of the building,” Piers said, but he didn’t even sound mad, more just tired and resigned as if he hadn’t expected Leon to follow the orders anyway. He didn’t even wait for an answer before he motioned towards the stairway. “Gotta double back the way you came. This is Matt,” he inclined his head towards the person who had an arm around Piers’ shoulder, and was obviously being completely supported by him. “And Fred. He can walk.” The Fred in question gave Leon half a wave, but clearly was too tired and spooked to say anything.
“Alright, I’ll lead the way,” Leon said, motioning for them all to follow. “The stairs are blocked before the ground floor but I know a way around.” He focused his gaze on Piers, giving him what he hoped was a stern look. “If you need to swap, tell me.”
Piers gave him half an eyeroll and a nod that he knew to interpret as agreement, and they set out to get outside of the building as soon as possible. Piers kept supporting the man who couldn’t walk by himself, and Leon made sure that there was nothing obstructing their way so that they could get out before the walls collapsed in on them. The fire was catching on, too, and they had to reroute more than once so that they avoided running straight into the flames. They were all coughing, trying to shield their mouths with their shirts or whatever cloth they had, as the smoke was getting thicker.
Finally, after what felt like a small eternity, they got a visual of the main doors. Not many steps anymore, not much longer. Leon’s eyes were watering from the smoke, his lungs burning, and he was pretty sure the others weren’t faring much better. Fred stumbled over something and instinctively Leon reached out to steady him, wordlessly helping him forward.
Then someone screamed.
Immediately Leon turned on his heels. “I’ll go look.” The door was so close that Piers would be able to usher the civilians outside from here, and he needed to make sure that there wasn’t someone else trapped in here, about to be buried when it inevitably all crashed down. “I’ll be right behind you.” He wouldn’t have stopped to even argue but somehow Piers managed to grab a hold of his arm, the grip of his prosthetic steely, and Leon had no other choice but to stop.
“It’s too dangerous,” Piers tried, staring Leon down. If anyone, he was as stubborn and determined as Leon was, and maybe that was why Leon always enjoyed going toe to toe with him, whether it was verbal or physical sparring. But at moments like this, it meant they were at a stalemate. “At least let me come with you.” That was already an offer of compromise, and Leon did appreciate it, truly.
He wasn’t going to take it, though. “There’s no time,” Leon said, giving Piers a wry smile. “Get these people out, I promise I’ll be quick.”
For a second Piers still stared at him, but then he let go with a huff. “If you’re not out in two minutes I’m coming after you.”
“I’d expect nothing less,” Leon said, and this time his smile was more genuine, even though Piers barely had the time to register it. Quickly Leon dashed towards the general direction where he’d heard the scream, trusting that Piers would get the civilians and himself to safety. So he made his way further into the building, towards what seemed to be an office space at the end of the main hallway.
Visibility was getting even worse, and for a second Leon considered turning around, pressing the sleeve of his shirt better against his mouth to block out at least some of the acrid smoke. Then he heard a low noise again, a whine more than a scream this time around, and he finally managed to locate the source of it.
A woman was lying on her back underneath a filing cabinet, barely conscious. Leon dropped down onto one knee next to her, patting her cheek to make her open her eyes. “Hey, hey,” he tried, as soothing as he could, even though he had to stop to cough immediately. “I’m going to get you out of here, okay.” He moved so he could press his shoulder against the filing cabinet, pushing hard, and thankfully it budged. Somehow he managed to push it out of the way, moving to help the woman up.
She was barely responsive, though, and Leon desperately tried to come up with something to get her to stay alert. “I’m Leon, what’s your name?” he asked, figuring that it was an easy enough question even when she was barely there.
It took long, long seconds for her to focus her eyes on him. “S-steph,” she managed, but even the response didn’t exactly fill Leon with confidence. She had probably hit her head, and inhaled a lot of the fumes, and she really didn’t look like she could walk.
“Okay, Steph, I’m going to take you out of here,” Leon said, as reassuringly as he could. He hoisted her arm over his shoulder so he could wrap his around her waist, and support basically all of her weight as they limped forward. She managed to take a few shaky steps in the beginning, but they hadn’t even made it to the door before she was just hanging there, leaning heavily into Leon.
Thankfully she was petite enough that Leon was physically able to drag her forward. “Steph, stay with me,” Leon said just to say something, panic welling in his chest as she seemed to be hurt worse than he’d expected. “Not much longer and we’ll be out of here.”
As if responding to him, the building shook around them, debris falling around. Leon hunched over Steph’s form to protect her from it, and mostly they got away with it unscathed. It did mean that their way was cut off again, though. Frantically Leon looked around for the weakest spot in the rubble and fallen furniture and assorted items. This was not going well. He had to keep blinking to make his eyes work, tears streaking down his cheeks from how irritated his eyes were, and breathing didn’t feel great either. Fuck.
“Alright, here we go,” Leon breathed, mostly for himself, as Steph was by now just leaning against him without responding. He held his breath, squeezed his eyes shut, and pressed his forearm against the metal stand that had fallen over and was probably the easiest to move. The second Leon’s arm hit it he couldn’t hold back the pained outcry, though, as it burned. The metal was so hot it seared his skin even through his sleeve, and Leon pushed through the pain simply because it was their only damn choice.
By the time they got to the other side Leon was breathing harshly, both from the smoke and the pain, his legs feeling like they were about to give out any second. He staggered, barely able to keep upright, and everything hurt. He had no idea which way was out, where the door was, he was going to—
“I’ve got you,” a familiar voice said right next to Leon, and then suddenly there was an arm around him, offering him support. For once Leon didn’t argue, but instead allowed Piers to drag him outside. It must’ve looked ridiculous, how Leon was clinging onto Steph, basically carrying her, while Piers was basically half-carrying Leon in turn. Somehow they managed to make it out through the doors, into the frankly quite soothing drizzle outside.
Leon fell down on his knees, coughing so hard he felt it in his arms, in the pit of his stomach. Only distantly he noticed the paramedics taking Steph from him, but he didn’t have the strength to look after her. Instead he weakly leaned against Piers, for once letting himself have a moment of support.
*
The rain was picking up, but Leon didn’t really even notice. He was sitting on the curb with a blanket around himself, holding the oxygen mask to his face. The medics had only given him the oxygen supply and peeled the fabric of his shirt off his burned forearm, telling him to keep the cool pack against it so they could come back to treat it later. For now there were much more severely injured people to tend to, and Leon gladly took the last turn.
Piers was still next to him, stubbornly refusing to leave, and Leon was sort of pathetically grateful for that. He knew he wasn’t hurt that bad, only his burnt arm, and maybe he’d inhaled too much smoke, but compared to how he was feeling emotionally it was peanuts. He felt like he could topple over any second, and having Piers’ shoulder against his own helped him keep himself from unraveling completely.
This was only blocks away from his home, too. Fucking hell. A BOW dealer almost at his doorstep. Leon really felt a certain type of way about that.
So Leon focused on the slow breaths, hoping that his headache would leave when he got some clear air in his lungs, hoping that the anxiety he had about the civilians they’d pulled out of the building surviving would ease. So many of them had already been carted away by ambulances. This was an absolute disaster. He was so tired he was almost nodding off, leaning more and more heavily against Piers’ shoulder.
Until there was shouting and running, several of the paramedics rushing past him. With a frown, Leon followed them with his gaze, until he realized where they were headed. The woman that he’d brought outside last, Steph, something was wrong with her. She’d been in a rough shape to begin with, but it had seemed that she’d pull through, she hadn’t even been labeled in the most urgent group of patients. She’d been waiting, same as Leon, to be seen again and—
“Oh man,” Piers sighed next to him, his voice heavy. “I was really rooting for her.”
That was when it hit Leon that the medics had stopped all resuscitation. They were moving on, to the next patient, and left her lying there on the ground. Like she meant nothing. The logical part of Leon’s brain knew this was how things had to be, the people currently alive needed the help more and those who were beyond help could wait. But this had nothing to do with logic. He had promised her, he’d done everything he could to get her to safety, he’d—
He’d failed. And she paid the price with her life.
Leon couldn’t even blink. He stared at her still form on the ground, even after someone pulled a blanket over her out of respect. His eyes were burning, a lump in his throat so big he couldn’t swallow around it, could barely breathe past it. He kept staring at her body hoping that by some miracle she’d sit up and gasp for breath, that she’d open her eyes again, something, anything. But she wouldn’t, not when he’d fucked up and hadn’t gotten her out of there fast enough.
He’d failed he’d failed he’d failed he’d—
He had to get out of here. He couldn’t let these people see him break down. His hands were shaking, and no matter how much he kept blinking he couldn’t keep his eyes from welling up with tears. His fingers twitched and he almost grabbed Piers’ hand, but not even that was in the cards for him. Of course not. That was exactly when Chris appeared. “Hey, Piers, a minute,” he said, motioning for Piers to follow, and of course Piers jumped up.
To Leon’s surprise, Piers took a moment to look at him before rushing off, giving his shoulder a squeeze. “I’ll be right back,” he said, trying to smile.
That certainly didn’t help with the tears threatening to spill. The second Piers was far enough and wasn’t paying attention, Leon shrugged the blanket off his shoulders, leaving the oxygen mask and tank on top of it.
Then he fled.
*
Of course, Leon’s shitty, shitty life persisted. Somehow he got himself home, and somehow he managed to do that without completely breaking down on the way. He even managed to get his ruined shirt off without passing out from the pain in his burned arm, and promptly threw the shirt into the trash. Then started the hard part. There were bits of fabric burnt onto his skin, lodged into the wound, and he had to bite down on a wadded up hand towel as he peeled the fabric scraps off with pliers. He probably should’ve stayed for the first aid but hell, the burn wasn’t that bad.
As Leon had found all the supplies to tend to his injury, and was about to run the burn under some water to clean it, suddenly the doorbell rang, the sound echoing through his apartment. Leon closed his eyes and cursed, counting to ten, hoping that whoever it was would take the hint and go away. Of course that wasn’t happening. Why would he ever catch a break? Demandingly the bell rang again, then again, and Leon muttered another curse as he threw the towel into the sink and stalked towards the door.
Leon threw the door open, snapping harsher than he’d intended. “What!?”
Piers arched an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “You skipped medical,” he said, flatly. His gaze traveled down Leon’s chest, and only then Leon realized he wasn’t wearing a shirt, feeling a little self conscious about it. He pulled his injured arm over his chest, but it was clearly the wrong move, as it made Piers’ expression immediately darken. “I’m coming in.”
That wasn’t a question, it was a clear statement, and Leon was too tired to argue. He stepped aside, opening the door wider, and closed it again after Piers walked inside. Truthfully he didn’t know how to feel about this. Some part of him was screaming because of the loss of privacy, now that he couldn’t just lick his wounds in private. Another part was pathetically grateful for the company, as Piers somehow managed to soothe the worst of his pain simply by existing.
“Did you already wash it?” Piers asked, and only then Leon finally looked up at him properly. He’d expected anger, but what he saw was clear concern, and somehow that threw him off balance. He just shook his head slowly. The answer from Piers was to frown even harder. “C’mon. Let’s go.”
Dumbfounded, Leon followed Piers into the bathroom, sitting down on the closed toilet lid when Piers motioned for him to do so. It was like he was on autopilot, simply following directions, although under other circumstances he would’ve scoffed and sent Piers away, told him that he was perfectly fine on his own. Now he couldn’t bring himself to do it, couldn’t find the strength.
After Piers had washed his own hands, he gently washed Leon’s forearm, running tepid water over it to get it as clean as possible. Some of the burnt skin washed off with the water, and Leon couldn’t help but hiss with pain, as much as he tried to hold it back. He expected Piers to ignore it, but instead he suddenly was met with concerned green eyes and the softest tone of voice imaginable. “I know it hurts,” Piers said, rubbing his thumb over Leon’s wrist where the skin wasn’t injured. “Breathe. I’ll be careful.”
Leon pinched his mouth shut, trying not to show how his lip was wobbling. The lump in his throat was back, tears springing back to his eyes, but stubbornly he breathed through his nose and tried to focus on every single inhalation to distract himself. Holding back tears had never been this hard, usually he was really damn good at pushing his feelings into neat little boxes to be ignored, but now? It was like everything was in shambles and he no longer knew how to keep himself under control.
Thankfully Piers didn’t pay him that much attention as he was focused on cleaning the burnt area the best he could, as gently as he could. When he was done he took the towel and gently patted the area dry, but as soft as he was being with it, it still hurt. “Not much longer,” he said, encouragingly. “Just hang on a bit more so I can get it bandaged.”
As an answer Leon just gave a shaky nod. He watched through the unshed tears how Piers applied the antibiotic ointment to the burns, before carefully taping up a bandage over them, his hands so gentle it was overwhelming. Leon couldn’t stop staring at those long fingers, so adept with a weapon, full of strength when it was needed, but right now there was none of that as his touch was feathery light, the gentlest thing Leon had ever experienced. Piers was focusing so hard on not hurting Leon more, to helping him, and Leon—
Leon could no longer hold back the hot tears. He blinked and they escaped, running down his cheeks, more and more falling with every single time he tried to just blink them away. For a split second he hoped Piers didn’t notice, but that was a fool’s hope, as of course he did.
“Leon?” Piers asked, carefully folding Leon’s hand between his own palms. “Are you—”
“I’m sorry,” Leon choked out, his voice a pathetic little whimper. He inhaled shakily, his entire frame shaken by the sob that followed, and he lost all control over himself. “I’m sorry, I can’t stop, I’m sorry, I’m sor—” he babbled nonsensically, his voice wavering and thick with tears, a sob after another shaking him, leaving him completely helpless.
Leon didn’t actually hear what Piers said, he barely registered the familiar voice through his ugly crying. He was pulled against a solid chest, warm arms around him, and he desperately grabbed a hold of Piers’ shirt with both hands in an attempt to find something to anchor himself. He was full-on wailing into Piers’ shirt, all traces of his self-control completely gone, and if he had been more conscious of it he would’ve been embarrassed as fuck.
Now though, Leon let himself sink into the comforting embrace as he was wracked with the sobs, let Piers pull him even closer. Piers was stroking his back, kept talking to him in low, soothing tones, and ironically it just made Leon cry harder. He was barely aware of how Piers pulled him off his seat and onto the floor, so that Piers was sitting against the wall and Leon was cradled against his chest, sitting between his thighs. Throughout it all Leon kept clinging onto Piers, his face pressed into Piers’ shirt that was wet with tears and snot.
What made this all even more pathetic was that Leon didn’t even remember when he’d last been held like this, if ever. He was used to making do with accidental shoulder brushes, or the quick hugs he sometimes got from Chris, or sitting so close to Piers they were touching from knee to hip. But being actually held? And in a moment that wasn’t sexual in nature? By someone who cared? Because as much as Leon tried to stick his head in the sand he knew Piers cared for him, Piers cared so much, and now that he was focusing that on Leon… Like a flower turning towards sunlight Leon was pulled into it.
Now that the floodgates had been opened there was no closing them. So Leon cried. He cried for Steph, he cried for the other civilians, he cried for every life he’d lost ever since he’d watched Marvin turn into a walking dead and been helpless to do anything about it. He cried for himself, selfishly, for what his life had turned into and how he was so worn thin, so lonely, so tired of this all.
And Piers held him. Steadfast, never wavering, warm and comforting.
The last thought before Leon passed out from sheer exhaustion was that he wished he could ever repay this kindness.
*
It took forever for Leon to wake up. His head felt heavy, his eyes burned, and when he as much as tried to move it was as if there was an explosion in his brain. Fuck. He needed some painkillers, stat. His arm was throbbing, too, but the head was way worse. Leon blinked his eyes open, taking in his surroundings. He was sitting sideways in Piers’ lap, and had obviously been sleeping against his chest for however long now. The bright bathroom light was still on, but Leon didn’t have a clock in there so he couldn’t tell how much time had passed.
Piers’ head was tilted back at an awkward angle, resting against the wall, and he was fast asleep. He’d clearly been holding Leon but now his arms were slack, the prosthetic one against the floor behind Leon and Piers’ left hand on Leon’s thigh. The position really couldn’t have been comfortable at all, and Leon grimaced at how he’d forced Piers to stay like this for so long he’d fallen asleep sitting up.
Embarrassed, Leon remembered his giant breakdown. He’d full-on snot-cried against Piers’ chest for so long that he had simply cried himself to sleep. He still felt more than a little shaky, the mere thought of how nice Piers had been to him making fresh tears spring into his eyes. Leon tried to swallow them back, hating how he was so on edge that he could no longer find the last dregs of his self control.
Piers made a soft sound, and Leon could’ve gotten up, should’ve gotten up, but he stayed where he was as he watched Piers blink his eyes open. The right one couldn’t really focus, not anymore, but the one that did turned towards Leon and immediately a soft smile pulled on Piers’ lips. “Hey,” he said, voice soft, cracking a little from the lack of use. “Feeling better?”
As an answer Leon took a shaky breath, the stubborn tears spilling down his cheeks. He already opened his mouth to apologize again, to explain, anything, but all of the words got stuck in his throat as Piers brought a hand up to softly brush the tears away with his thumb. He left his warm palm there, holding Leon’s face, and weakly Leon let himself lean into the touch. “Why did you…” he whispered, not really even knowing what he was about to ask.
Piers moved his thumb to press against Leon’s lips, shushing him softly. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss onto Leon’s temple. “Because I want to.” He stayed there, bringing his prosthetic arm around Leon simply to pull him a little closer to his chest. “Let me.”
Shakily Leon nodded, smiling through the tears that were just doing their thing now, he had no control over any of this anymore. He brought a hand to Piers’ neck, pressed their foreheads together, and for a long, long moment they simply stayed so close their breaths were mixing, their noses brushing together. Then Leon managed to pull himself together for long enough to actually consider things like moving and speaking. He pulled back, enough to meet Piers’ gaze with his own. “Stay?”
Piers smiled at him, nodding. Then he chuckled a little, giving a small headshake, before stretching his neck. “Don’t take this the wrong way,” he started, amusement in his voice, “but I’m not sleeping on the floor any longer.” Despite the words he made no move to let go of Leon, or to get any distance between them, and that alone soothed Leon in a way not much else did.
“The bed fits both of us?” Leon suggested, his voice still way shakier than he liked, but somehow making it through the words without breaking.
“Good,” Piers said simply, and so it was settled.
Together they got off the floor, and Leon grabbed himself painkillers and drank several glasses of water to replace what he’d lost. They didn’t speak as they then headed to the bedroom, and although Leon expected awkwardness it never came. They undressed down to their underwear, before slipping under the covers, and Piers immediately collected Leon back close against his chest. He even made sure that Leon’s injured arm wasn’t being hurt, and was propped up on his chest comfortably.
Leon could’ve cried again if he hadn’t already been so cried out. He was exhausted down to the bone, and he decided for now he could let himself enjoy this. For now he’d let himself be held, be cared for, and he’d deal with all of the possible implications of it later.
For once he felt comforted, safe, and at peace.