Work Text:
“How do you want the BSAA to notify you if I die or go missing while on mission?”
It's not that late, but they're exhausted. It's been two months since they've both been in the house at the same time for more than a day. They've got a weekend now – a glorious sprawling Saturday and Sunday after Chris picked up Leon this afternoon. They'd had pizza and fucked in the living room and then ate more pizza and ice cream.
But there's been a question nagging at Chris' mind for the last few days ever since he got his new packet of BSAA paperwork.
“What the fuck, Redfield,” Leon groans, his voice muffled. He's already splayed in their massive bed, buried into the pillows face down while Chris brushes his teeth. He knows Leon doesn't want to talk about this now, but this isn't the sort of thing that anyone ever wants to talk about.
Chris steps in the doorway between the bathroom and bedroom and leans into the wall.
“I'm serious,” he says to the back of Leon's head.
“What's protocol for other BSAA spouses?” Leon asks, raising his head. He seems to realize it's easier to give in and get this over with.
Chris raises an eyebrow.
“What part of your job makes you think that the BSAA would be able to reliably reach you in the way that other BSAA spouses would be notified, special agent?”
Leon hates tugging at these strings of possibility. A letter would be pointless. The BSAA would have to get a little lucky to find him in person – and he wonders who the hell would even be sent? He's not sure what leaves him colder: an impersonal message while alone or comfort coming from an utter stranger who doesn't know him and probably barely knew Chris. He's starting to break out in a cold sweat.
“Just have them come send someone to shoot me,” Leon says self-deprecatingly. They both know that he's good at what he does – legendary and one of the best, as everyone reminds him. But Leon has a hell of a hard time getting through life in the dragging periods between the fights – there's too much to think and feel, to rip over every instance with a scrutinizing intensity. It leaves time to consider how, for all these fights and sacrifices, the world doesn't seem to get much better.
Leon doesn't relish the idea of finding out how far he can spiral without Chris. He dislikes the idea of a slow dissolution of his self – all of his better qualities evaporating under the hurt of the world. If Chris was gone, maybe it would be better to step out with some bit of himself intact – even as he thinks that, he can hear Chris saying that Leon has to give the world a chance to build new things for and around and by him. Chris believes in deaths like resurrection, always able to still take a step forward. Leon can't burn brighter because he's too busy mourning the feathers turned to ash.
And sure enough, Chris is frowning in the doorway, those lines etching themselves deeper in his handsome face.
“How would they notify Claire?” Leon asks, relenting again for the sake of keeping the peace and getting this done.
“If it wasn't feasible to get someone in front of her, they'd leave a message with TerraSave headquarters that she needs to get into contact with the BSAA. They'd give her a number and it would route to someone higher up.”
Leon nods. A message that there's a bad call to be made, one they'd dread dialing even if it doesn't make any difference now.
“Have them contact Hunnigan then,” Leon says. She's not the worst person to tell him. They trade bad news to each other on the regular. And Leon can't ask that Claire be the one to tell him. It's too much to ask of her. Hunnigan at least knows him.
Chris heads over to the dresser, finishes filling out the paperwork to reflect what they just discussed, and signs his name.
“How would the DSO tell me?” Chris asks after a quiet moment, his back still to Leon.
“Well, they'd probably erase my identity the minute I'm dead, so it might be hard to prove we were married,” Leon says, with a hint of sardonic humor. He just can't help himself even though he can see the tension ripple through Chris' shoulders. It's just that – that's precariously close to the truth, and he knows that's going to hurt Chris.
“They'll come take the house,” Leon says, tired. Their housing here is provided by the Unites States government on account of Leon's job. Once he's gone, they'd see no reason to let Chris continue staying there.
“They'd take most of my shit, too, to destroy.” To make sure there was no leaked information, to make sure there was nothing overlooked.
“You'd eventually get a death certificate,” Leon says. “But I'd guess all that other shit would come first and they'd never tell you anything about where I was, what I was doing, or how I died.” Not that the BSAA would be lax with important secrets, but the United States was bound to be more tightlipped. If Chris found out more, it would be through pulling strings to get into classified documents.
“And they'll destroy my body, no matter how I died. You might get ashes, but I wouldn't count on that.” Chris' shoulders have grown tighter.
“Is that enough?” Leon asks quietly, wanting to draw the conversation to an end. There's a reason they don't discuss these things. Leon's intention hasn't been to hurt Chris, but some part of Chris needed to know even if he hated it.
“Yes,” Chris whispers and turns to face him. Leon draws him back into the bed, and Chris goes without complaint. Leon pulls him close and kisses him, tasting the minty remnants of the toothpaste.
They both wish they could promise the other that these predictions will never happen. That they can do something to alter their fates. But they know the work they do. Sometimes it doesn't matter how smart, fast, or strong you are. Most of the time, it's luck that lets you walk back through the door. So, there will come a time when they'll be overpowered by some new monstrosity or get hit by flying debris or step in to save another person.
There will be a day when one loses the other, and they both know it will be crueler to the one left behind.
So, Chris makes no false promises. He draws away, pressing his fingertips to Leon's lower lip.
“I love you,” he whispers like a confession. Leon kisses his fingers.
“I love you too,” he says.
…
Six months later, Chris will be in Edonia, and Hunnigan will get a phone call.