Chapter Text
Krauser woke up from strange, half-remembered dreams to soft light filtering through a window. That was when he remembered where he truly was. Away from it all, with Leon. Safe. Unfamiliar, but safe.
He pushed himself upward and stretched out. He was still in all his clothes from yesterday, having been too tired to do much about them. Krauser glanced around the room, finding it just about the same as it was last night. Except for some towels left on the wardrobe. Leon must have brought them in earlier that morning. Krauser really could use a shower, come to think of it. One that wasn’t so heavily regimented.
Krauser got up and grabbed the towels before meandering into the bathroom. He was very thankful to find it empty and Leon’s door shut, but he still hurried to get his clothes off as soon as he turned the shower on. The smaller the chance of Leon absent-mindedly walking in on him, the better.
He stepped into the shower and pulled back the curtain with no incident. Better still, it seemed that Leon had invested in an oversized shower. Krauser had plenty of room to move and turn without bumping his shoulders into the tile. It made the warm water all the more soothing.
Krauser leaned up against the wall and let out a deep sigh. He could stay in here as long as he cared to, a far cry from maximum security prison. He was still trapped, as much as he could be in a place with unlocked doors, but this was better, much better.
Krauser guessed that Leon wouldn’t mind much if he borrowed the shampoo. Pine and rosemary, according to the label, a moniker that struck Krauser odd, seeing as Leon didn’t smell like either of those things. Leon was gentler than that, sweeter. He smelled more like orange blossom or even lavender.
Why in God’s name did Krauser know what Leon smelled like? He couldn’t say for certain, but even just the thought of it brought him back to Operation Javier. That cheeky little agent with spirit giving him a smile. Making Krauser smile in return. It had all felt so strangely right.
Krauser’s arm ached, pulling him back into reality. With a sigh, Krauser poured out some shampoo and lathered it into his hair. It didn’t smell even close to Leon.
He took his time, enjoying the relative freedom as much as the comfortable warmth. Krauser had no reason to rush and all the warm water in the world, as far as he was concerned. Nothing to do but lather soap into a washcloth and scrub away, as though earthly grime was what he needed to be cleansed of.
There was so much that he needed to make up for. So much that he’d probably never make up for. What did Leon even see in him to let him into his home?
Questions like that were a losing game, Krauser knew from experience. He shut off the water and stepped out of the tub, grabbing the towel. He briskly dried off before picking up his clothes and heading back into his room, shutting the door behind him.
He wasn’t opposed to wearing the same relatively clean clothes again, but on a whim, Krauser searched the wardrobe. To his mild surprise, he found a few black or white shirts hanging there, and a couple of pairs of pants laid out below. At a glance, they weren’t exactly Krauser’s size, but he pulled a shirt out anyway. He pulled it over his head and stuck his arms through the sleeves, and found that while the fit was a bit tight, it wasn’t uncomfortable. He pulled on the pants as well to similar results. Good enough.
Clean and clothed, Krauser made his way out of the room and into the main living area of the house. It was bathed in the soft light of morning, making it more inviting than it had been the prior night. Krauser took in a deep breath before walking to the kitchen.
He opened the fridge and took a cursory inventory. Sure enough, there was milk on the door, but it was dated from the prior month. Not something to put in your coffee, that was for sure. Other than that, there was a six pack of beer, some sparkling water, a questionable carton of eggs, and a pack of cheese sticks. Krauser picked out a cheese stick and peeled it open. He wasn’t inclined to admit it, but he was pretty hungry.
Krauser took his time eating while he continued to snoop around Leon’s kitchen. He gently opened drawers and cabinets, learning the layout of Leon’s kitchen. He found cups, plates and bowls, utensils, even a first aid kit stowed away. In addition, he found a cabinet with a couple boxes of cereal and a can of oats. Krauser picked out some bran flakes before shutting the door.
He grabbed a bowl and a spoon too, and set them down on the kitchen table. Even though he couldn’t have milk, just the idea of breakfast cereal was surprisingly appealing after Krauser’s time with Umbrella. Krauser finished off his cheese stick, tossed the wrapper in the trash, and sat down to enjoy his breakfast.
The flakes were a bit stale, but Krauser didn’t mind at all. He’d eaten far, far worse, after all, though he felt weird about the entire situation. Krauser never thought he’d be back in such a domestic setting. He’d have taken his position for granted just a few years ago, brushed it off as dull, but now it brought him a strange kind of serenity. He wasn’t a soldier, he wasn’t a science experiment, he wasn’t even in jail anymore. He just- was. He was existing the same as most anyone else who existed outside of the horror that he and Leon were used to. It was nice.
Right. Leon. Leon was still there, just a few steps and a door away. Krauser was half-surprised that he hadn’t stirred already, given the noise of his new roommate and responsibility. He slept easy for having a guy who’d been trying to kill him not too long ago in his house.
Krauser was about halfway through his bran when he finally heard movement from Leon’s room. It wasn’t much, just rustling followed by footsteps that led into the bathroom. Krauser listened as the water was turned on, his heart beating a little faster as he realized just how soon Leon was going to join him. Yes, they’d already reunited, but this was new; Leon had never woken up to find Krauser there. Krauser had never done the same. There was no precedent set, so Krauser couldn’t help but wonder what exactly Leon would think of his old friend turned lethal enemy sitting in his kitchen, eating cereal.
Krauser swallowed down another dry bite and tried not to think too hard about it. Instead he stared at the box of bran and found fuzzy memories of advertisements coming back. People in workout suits and sweatbands eating bowls of the stuff, claiming that it would keep them fit on the inside. It was as far away as any other part of his formative years, but being in Leon’s house seemed to bring such memories back. Krauser still remembered how to be a normal human being. Who knew?
He was in the middle of crunching through another spoonful when he finally heard the water turn off. He mentally followed Leon’s muffle footsteps until finally, the door to his room swung open.
Krauser hadn’t wanted to look, but when Leon finally showed his face, he couldn’t help but lift his head to meet him. He’d never been able to ignore Leon, and today wasn’t the day to start, it seemed. Leon took one look at Krauser and just smiled.
“Morning,” Leon greeted him, like Krauser had always lived there. “You sleep okay?”
Krauser blinked. Well, insanity seemed to be the norm under this roof, so he figured when in Rome.
“Slept fine,” Krauser said. “You?”
“You kidding? Haven’t slept that well since-” Leon hesitated. “- since leaving for Spain.”
Krauser thought it was kind of odd, but didn’t question Leon.
“Good,” he said simply.
Leon approached the table and regarded Krauser’s bowl of bran flakes before wrinkling his nose. “Right, no milk.”
“‘S not bad,” Krauser said, shrugging.
“I’ll go and pick up some groceries,” Leon reassured him. “Surprised you didn’t just make some plain oatmeal.”
“You’re just- going to leave me to my devices?” Krauser asked, gazing at Leon incredulously.
“Yeah?” Leon shrugged, like it was no big deal. “We’re not exactly self-sufficient here. And the store is only a few blocks away.” Leon gave him a teasing smile. “What, you afraid I won’t be here to hold your hand?”
Krauser was silent, more perplexed than anything else. Was the government really just fine with Leon leaving him alone? Was it a trick, a test? Did they expect Krauser to lead them back to Wesker the second he got a chance to escape?
Leon didn’t seem concerned with such questions as he retrieved a bowl and spoon of his own and sat down across from Krauser.
They ate together wordlessly, the only sound the crunch of dry cereal between their teeth. Krauser didn’t know what he could possibly say. It was all too strange, being there with Leon, and worse still, Krauser was already growing accustomed to the arrangement. He wouldn’t have admitted it, but he was a bit nervous at the idea of Leon leaving him. If he left, Krauser feared that the illusion of normalcy would crumble, that the whole world would tilt off balance.
Krauser was about as good at letting his anxieties run circles around him as Leon was at quelling them.
“You want anything in particular?” Leon asked about halfway through his breakfast. “Food-wise, I mean.”
A question like that was perfect to refocus Krauser. Did he want anything in particular? It wasn’t as though he’d been starving in Spain, but the rations weren’t exactly pleasant. He couldn’t help but think back to his choices coming home from a tour of duty.
“Grapes would be nice. If you can,” he settled on. “Maybe some Pop Tarts.”
Leon face lit up at the request. “Pop Tarts? You?”
Krauser shrugged. “Not that often. Would just be nice.”
“Pop Tarts it is,” Leon declared. “Anything else?”
There was likely a litany of foods Krauser could have listed off, but he just shrugged again. He’d already said more than enough.
“Okay, big guy, I’ll pick out a good variety,” Leon said in his stead. “We can play around with meal ideas. Maybe even cook together.”
Krauser just stared into his bran flakes at that point, fearing he might just blurt out how appealing that sounded. Why was that such a terrifying outcome? If he was going to be stuck there anyway, why not enjoy it?
At the same time, why should he? It wasn’t as though Krauser deserved to enjoy it.
“Well, I’m not gonna let you starve, if that’s what you think,” Leon said, making it clear that he wasn’t going to hear any argument, even ones that Krauser didn’t say out loud. “You’re my responsibility after all.”
That statement seemed to galvanize something in Leon, as he stood up and retrieved a pad of paper from a nearby drawer. He was quick to jot down what Krauser presumed was a shopping list before tearing it off and shoving it into his pocket. With that, he made his way over to the door.
“I’ll try to be back ASAP, but it might be a bit so-” Leon hesitated to finish his sentence. “- Well, eat what you want, and you’re welcome to the TV or radio or whatever. There’s some tapes around. Mi casa et tu casa.”
Krauser just stared at him. He truly couldn’t tell if Leon was trying to be funny or what.
“So,” Leon took a long look at Krauser as he opened the door. “See you then.”
Just like that, Leon was gone, the door shut behind him. Krauser was left in a quiet house that suddenly felt much colder. Leon’s cereal bowl sat across from him, as though he’d never been there at all. What was Leon up to?
Truthfully, Krauser had no idea, and he had no intent of finding out. What did it matter anyway? The worst thing he could do was kill Krauser now that he’d let his guard down, but that didn’t seem likely. He was Krauser’s jailer, but he had to be the worst jailer a prison could have.
Was Krauser even imprisoned really? He stood up and stepped over to the door, reaching for the knob. Sure enough, as he twisted it, it opened without resistance. Krauser pushed it open farther, sticking his nose out into the fresh, morning air. Birds were singing and a light breeze brushed against Krauser’s cheeks. Leon was nowhere to be seen, which was probably for the best.
Krauser gently pulled the door back until it clicked. He could have left, and maybe that was exactly what Leon intended, for Krauser’s sake or the government’s. Somehow, Krauser just didn’t feel even the slightest bit of motivation to leave. It was easier to stay and, for once in his life, Krauser favored the easy option.
“See you,” Krauser echoed, as though Leon was there to hear him.
He turned around and made his way towards the living room. Might as well get familiar with his surroundings while Leon’s eyes were off him. At least, seemingly off of him. It couldn’t hurt to look for cameras.
Looking over the living room for a second time, Krauser observed that it was a good size, seeming to comprise most of the house’s footprint. Aside from the dust, the whole space struck Krauser as a bit too neat, with minimal personal effects. Almost as though Leon hardly ever got the opportunity to use it.
Leon hadn’t changed, it seemed. Always focused on the mission, never himself. Krauser supposed that he was the mission now, and he couldn’t help but think that it was the most focused Leon had ever been on him.
Why did Krauser care? Why did that thought even cross his mind?
Unfortunately for him, asking that question just led to more frustration. He was being irrational in the absence of anything else to focus on, no more, no less. It’d pass before he knew it.
With the kitchen and living room searched, Krauser couldn’t help but turn his gaze on the door to Leon’s room. It was half-open, making it obvious that Leon either didn’t care or hadn’t thought about not wanting Krauser to see inside. As such, Krauser didn’t see the harm in at least taking a peek.
He walked up to the door and peered inside, but didn’t find much beyond the pale yellow wallpaper and a heating vent. Krauser pushed the door in an inch more and spotted the door to the bathroom. At that point, he grew bold enough to step inside and take a proper look.
Leon’s room was only slightly larger than his own with almost the same amenities. The only meaningful difference Krauser took note of was a clothes drawer rather than a wardrobe. Apparently Leon wasn’t big on hanging his clothes up.
Krauser approached the drawer and slid the top shelf open. It was filled with folded pants and socks and underwear, but nothing that intrigued Krauser. He shut it after a moment and pulled open the middle drawer, only to find Leon’s shirts. Unlike the first drawer, Leon’s shirts were an unruly mess with not even the smallest indication that Leon tried to organize or fold them. Krauser shook his head and moved on to the third and bottom drawer.
As he pulled it out, a barrage of motion became visible from within. Krauser blinked as it became clear what he was looking at: Polaroids, and a ton of them. They were all scattered throughout the drawer, along with a few thick, blue books meant for holding pictures, if Krauser had to guess.
He knelt down to start going through the pictures. Most of them seemed innocuous enough at a glance. Landscapes, forests, natural monuments, like Leon had been out on a trip to the great outdoors. Good for him.
Some even had Leon in them, standing next to a massive rock formation with his arms stretched upward for scale. He smiled like he didn’t have a care in the world, like he was just living in the moment. Living the way Krauser never could after Javier.
Krauser sighed and considered shutting the drawer there and then. He was invading Leon’s privacy and he knew that it would only further reinforce that Leon had moved on without him. That was fine, it should have been fine, but why the hell would Krauser go and make deals with bioterrorists over something that was fine?
He kept on going, taking in each slightly washed out frame with interest. Leon leaned up against a tree, Leon pointing out something in the distance, Leon sitting by a riverbed. It occurred to Krauser that someone else had to have been taking most of the pictures, some unknown companion or companions. People who made Leon happy to be around.
Good for Leon, Krauser repeated. He’d given up hope on being better than Leon, so he might as well be happy for him. Even if Krauser didn’t feel happy in the slightest.
Soon enough, Krauser found the evidence he’d been looking for. In the background of a photo of Leon looking out through binoculars, that woman from the framed photo was plainly visible. The one Leon had so easily wrapped his arm around. Krauser tensed, well-aware that if she was there, then it was likely enough that the man from that picture was there too.
Was it her? His mind couldn’t help but ask.
Krauser pushed the question away, even as he dug further. A sequence of events unfolded before him, starting at a dock with a small boat that Leon was working to untie. They boarded the boat and set out into the ocean, with a number of pictures simply of the vast blue all around them. The man from the picture unceremoniously reared his head in a picture of him behind the wheel, Leon at his side. They were looking back at the camera, smiling, but seeming a bit uncomfortable.
More pictures of the open blue and fishing rods mounted on the side of the boat. One had Leon holding a rod, but he didn’t even seem aware of the camera’s presence. He wasn’t smiling anymore, just staring outward, not focused on anything around him. Something about the image pulled at Krauser.
He put that one aside carefully, only to be met with another picture of the strange man holding some kind of ray. Leon was giving a thumbs up in the background, his smile having returned. A few more pictures of the two holding fish came after, until Krauser stopped to stare at one that showed the man holding a massive bass of some kind. Leon was right next to him, grinning, and Krauser was quick to notice Leon’s arm around the guy’s shoulder. The longer he looked at it, the more Krauser’s stomach burned. He shouldn’t have cared, shouldn’t have even been looking at this crap, but the idea of Leon spending time with these people, maybe even before Krauser had “died”- it hurt. Krauser should have been there with Leon. If Leon had only talked to him after Javier.
If Krauser had only talked to Leon after Javier. If he hadn’t been so stubborn and bitter.
Krauser really ought to have stopped there. He should have just put the photo down and shut the drawer, but no. He’d started this and now he’d have to at least finish it.
All he had left was to poke around in the albums, really. As he picked one up and opened it though, he found it strangely barren. A couple photos had been stuck into the front page, just some blurry landscapes, but he flipped through to find nothing at all. Puzzled, he picked up the next one, only to find it entirely empty. Krauser was beginning to put the overall picture together: Leon had stashed his photo collection in the drawer hoping to organize it, but had only gotten a few photos in. By Krauser’s estimate, he really did barely even live in his little abode. Busy with other, more classified matters.
As Krauser picked up and opened the second to last of the blue albums though, a flurry of photos dropped out and scattered across the drawer. He winced, though it proved his theory even further. Krauser made haste to gather them up and shove them back into the binder, although as he glanced at them, a strange feeling settled in his gut. They weren’t of Leon or his- friends; no, they were photos of an army base. One that was uncannily familiar to Krauser.
He took a more careful look at the pictures, doing his best to deny what he already knew was true. Each image was relatively mundane, of bunks or offices or training ranges. It could have been any army base, but Krauser knew it as Camp Foxtrot Alpha, the one he’d been stationed at for the longest. Where had Leon gotten these?
All at once, Krauser froze. There in front of him was a picture of- himself. Overexposed, but unmistakable. Krauser could remember precious few times when he’d ever stopped to allow his picture to be taken, but he was fairly confident he remembered this one. He was dressed in his full army regalia, and he’d clearly been cropped out of a larger group photo with his regiment. There was Michaels on his left, Vargas on his right. Memories from a life that Krauser had turned his back on.
Where the hell had Leon gotten this? Why did he have it?
Krauser needed to sit down.
Just as hastily as Leon must have, Krauser shoved the remaining photos into the album and placed it back where he’d found it. He no longer had the stomach to even think of opening the last one, for fear of what might be inside. He shoved the drawer shut and retreated to the living room.
Krauser sat down in the armchair, doing his best to relax despite every nerve in his body being on high alert. He controlled each breath he took, forcing them to come in and out slowly.
He’d lost count of how many breaths he’d taken when he heard a knock on the kitchen door. Krauser about jumped out of his seat as he heard the door click open.
“I’m back!” Leon called out.
He was putting in effort to not startle Krauser with his presence, that much was obvious. It wasn’t exactly working, but he appreciated the effort.
“Got plenty of good stuff,” Leon continued, the sound of crinkling paper bags following as he entered the house. “They had some real nice looking grapes.”
Right. Krauser had asked for those. Shakily, he pushed himself to his feet and turned around to join Leon in the kitchen. He was already putting things away in the fridge, milk, carrots, a jug of orange juice.
“Here ya go, big guy,” he said, pulling a bag of red and green grapes out and placing them on the table. “Wasn’t sure which kind you meant, so I got both.”
“I like both,” Krauser said quietly. “Thanks.”
He stepped over and popped a grape in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. The flesh popped nicely, sweet, fresh juice flooding his mouth. Krauser shut his eyes, trying to forget his troubles and enjoy the simple pleasure.
Of course, Leon just had to be perceptive.
“You okay, Krauser?” he asked gently.
Krauser opened his eyes to find Leon standing against the table as well, giving him an uncertain gaze.
Krauser shrugged. “Why wouldn’t I be?” he asked, popping another grape.
Leon frowned, hesitating as he seemed to consider his words. “Your- Well, a lot must have changed for you really fast back in Spain.”
Krauser felt a twinge in his left arm at that, and said nothing.
“And even after we got out of there, they put you in solitary,” Leon continued, his frown only deepening.
“It was nothing,” Krauser lied. “I’ve dealt with worse.”
“I’m sorry,” Leon said, like he hadn’t heard. “I didn’t want it to go the way it did.”
Krauser sighed, really not caring to talk about, well, much of anything, but certainly not this.
“You got me out, didn’t you?” he said, shrugging again. “So it’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”
Leon watched him for a long moment, like he was trying to see into Krauser’s thoughts. Thank God he couldn’t. Krauser would have been mortified if Leon knew about his dream the prior night.
“I’m gonna go lie down,” Krauser said before Leon could think of anything else to say.
He grabbed a couple grapes for the road before skulking off into the guest room, shutting the door behind him. Krauser almost found himself missing solitary confinement; at least that allowed him some privacy, some means of shutting Leon out entirely. This room was the closest he could get to that now, and it wasn’t ideal.
Everything so far had been mundane and - well, damn near domestic. It was such a sick contrast to what was inside Krauser. Or rather, what had been inside him. The only thing that had given his life meaning, ever since the mission that had cost him everything.
He remembered Leon back then. So idealistic and damn near pure. If Krauser had lost everything in that mission, had Leon lost something as well? He thought back to the empty albums, of a life half-lived, half-organized.
What the hell was he doing here? Why had Leon taken him here?
Come nighttime, Krauser should just get some provisions and leave. Not back to Wesker, he’d be useless to him now, but far away from Leon and -
Leon.
Krauser chewed the inside of his cheek, imagining Leon’s expression when he’d find his room empty and his kindness rejected. He knew it’d hurt the kid, and maybe even shake his faith in humanity as a whole, hard as that was to imagine. Despite that, it would be for the best, for both of them. Leon was better than this, had better things to be doing than just babysitting him. The government might be pissed that he got away from Leon, but he knew that they couldn’t afford to do much about it. Krauser was weak now anyway and carried nothing of value. He could just slip away and allow the threads of their lives to separate once again.
It was what needed to be done, he decided. For Leon’s sake more than his own. When the sun set and Leon had gone to bed, he’d take his leave and never look back.