Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

So, in the end, Leon really had been better than him. That Krauser was laying on the ground, unable to move as his Plaga tried to heal him was proof of that. Maybe he wouldn’t be able to get up at all. The parasites were effective, but they didn’t work miracles. Or maybe he just didn’t want to get up after his humiliating defeat.

He expected Leon to move along as soon as he could, leaving Krauser to rot just like he had years ago. Somehow, though, that didn’t happen.

He felt boots on the ground, approaching him. Leon’s steps barely stirred the dust on the ground, they were so light, but it was still obviously him. Krauser would have known those footfalls anywhere.

Krauser expected gloating, or for Leon to prod him with a gun to make sure he was dead. Anything except what Leon did.

He heard gravel scrape under Leon’s boots and Leon’s breath grew audible. He’d knelt down, by Krauser’s estimate, but there was no poking and no words for a long stretch. Was Leon just- looking at him? Why?

It didn't help at all when Leon finally spoke.

“What happened to you, Jack?” Leon murmured, just loud enough for Krauser to pick up on. “You used to be a good guy…”

There was no anger, no bitterness, and not even a drop of hatred. The only emotion in Leon's voice was sadness. Pity, even. It was completely antithetical to what Krauser had wanted, what he'd been sure would give him satisfaction. He'd come after Leon with intent for one of them to die after a hot and hateful fight, and now it was only his eruption of anger against Leon's cool ocean of sympathy. If Krauser hadn’t already been immobile, he certainly would have been now.

Leon's boots crunched gravel once more as he stood up, but he hesitated after only one step away. Krauser's jaw tensed even harder as he realized that Leon didn't want to leave him. That- Krauser could barely comprehend that. Instead, he pushed it away, dismissed it as nothing but an anomaly, meaningless.

It was easier to do when, finally, Leon's footsteps trailed away, leaving Krauser with only his thoughts as his body continued the painstaking healing process.

Used to be, the words echoed in Krauser’s mind. Used to be good, just like he used to be broken, all because of Leon. Leon hadn’t given him his body back and his life with it. He’d abandoned Krauser, just like everyone else when he’d outlived his usefulness.

But still, he couldn’t deny the tenderness in Leon’s voice. The emotion that suggested that maybe, just maybe, he’d thought of Krauser all the while. That he hadn’t wanted things to turn out the way they had. Even after Krauser had tried to kill him, the damn kid didn’t show even a hint of spite.

It was pissing Krauser off, the inner turmoil and emotion. Enough that he was intent on finishing the job. He wanted to spite Leon, to make him hate Krauser like he always should have. To kill him and make it hurt and see his eyes burn into Krauser, wishing he could return the favor.

That was the mindset he took with him as he pushed himself to his feet once more. He traced Leon’s path as it led out of the arena. He was hunting, just as he had the whole time he’d been on the island.

When he caught up with Leon, the kid was gunning his way through a whole infantry of Saddler’s soldiers. No matter Krauser’s personal baggage, he couldn’t deny that Leon had more guts than anyone he’d ever known, and the skill to back it up. Even facing massive resistance, Leon was running and gunning his way across the winding landscape. Krauser stood on the rocky, hillside terrain above, watching his every move.

Traversing rough terrain was easier than ever for him, given his own set of mutations. His formerly useless arm now made for both an effective weapon and tool, keeping him grounded even on steep cliff sides. He bounded over gaps and navigated uneven terrain like it was a walk in the park. It reminded him of when he’d first enlisted, when he’d been young and spry, yet so much weaker than he’d become. Krauser was better than Leon now, so much better that he’d known that he could best his former partner in a one-on-one fight.

That was what he’d thought, at least. He’d thought that he could cross blades with Leon and win too. Even now, he thought that if he simply stalked Leon and caught him off guard, then maybe, finally, he’d have his satisfaction.

Instead, he watched Leon kill every living man who stood between him and his goal. He didn’t show hesitation, as he had with Krauser, only dogged determination. The kind of thing that Krauser hadn’t seen since Operation Javier. He associated that time with so many bad memories that he’d almost forgotten the one thing he’d enjoyed. It shouldn’t have been possible to enjoy anything when one was dealing with mindless hordes, but Krauser had. Leon made that much impossible to deny.

Krauser should have pounced already, but, instead, he prolonged his stalking as Leon climbed higher and higher. Maybe he just wanted to see how far Leon could go before Krauser snatched victory away from him. Maybe he was stalling for the perfect moment. Maybe it was something else entirely.

Leon was at the bottom of a narrow ridge now, walking through an obvious chokepoint with only a handgun. It wouldn’t have been the first time he’d overcome impossible odds, so Krauser simply watched with interest.

Leon led with a flashbang, blinding the frontline troopers and keeping the sniper off his trail. He picked off a couple guys with two shots to their heads before ducking for cover behind some crates. He swapped the handgun out for a rifle and peeked out over the crates, doing all he could to get his sights on the sniper. Before he could, though, they both fired on his position. Leon ducked down, unharmed, but reconsidering his plan, clearly.

Through their shared parasites, Krauser could feel the position of each of the soldiers, but he knew that they were too preoccupied to grow aware of his presence. The itch to kill came off in waves through the strange, collective consciousness, fueled by Saddler’s will. While their intent was the same as Krauser’s, their efforts to kill Leon were only for someone else’s sake. Krauser’s stalking was for his own reasons as much as it was for the sake of the project. His will was just as strong as his renewed body.

He felt the soldiers drop like flies too, as Leon picked them off. They outnumbered him twenty fold, yet Leon kept evening those odds. It was impressive, just as Leon always had been. He didn’t need Krauser at that moment any more than he had back then. In his strength, Leon was worthwhile prey.

But, just as it seemed that nothing could stop Leon, the air lit up with the hiss of a rocket launcher firing off. Krauser thought nothing of it at first, seeing as it wasn’t the first time Leon had dealt with concussive blasts. The rocket blasted to the side of Leon’s cover and sent him flying into a concrete wall. His back slammed into it and Leon was stunned enough to crumple onto the ground sideways. Krauser sniffed, somewhere between humor and contempt. Tough as the government’s golden boy was, he got his ass kicked around on the way to victory.

Krauser waited for Leon to pick himself up. He waited and waited for a long several seconds, and he didn’t need a stopwatch to know that it was taking much longer than usual for Leon to stand up.

A minute must have passed and Leon was still lying on the ground, motionless. He wasn’t dead. He couldn’t be dead, could he? Krauser should have felt it.

Get up, he urged silently. Get up so I can knock you down.

Leon never seemed to hear, and soon, the soldiers realized that they were no longer being shot at before starting to close in on Leon’s position. If he wasn’t dead at that moment, he soon would be. Krauser should have been pleased, ecstatic even. The one who had ruined his life and abandoned him in favor of going on missions like this was about to meet a painful and humiliating demise.

Krauser wasn’t. He wasn’t in the least bit happy or even relieved. He was something else entirely.

Something changed in him in that instant. He heard the whispers to let Leon die, heard his own vengeful soul demand he kill Leon himself, but a third voice was screaming out. A voice he hadn’t heard since Javier.

He wanted- he didn’t know what he wanted, but he knew that he couldn’t play the idle observer anymore.

In an instant, he was making his way down the rocky cliffside, and as soon as the terrain grew level enough, he loped downhill, coming in from a favorable flanking angle. It was thrilling, the feeling of the wind in his face as he prepared to tear through his enemies, all of them so tunnel visioned that they’d never see him coming. As he rounded a corner and made it to the frontline troopers closing in on Leon, Krauser sliced one of their heads clean off. The second he barreled into had only just realized his companion’s fate before Krauser was stabbing his bladed arm through the man’s chest.

As he began his carnage, the soldiers called out to each other in shock and confusion, but Krauser paid no attention to their words. He knew that they were shouting for their sniper to get a visual on him, but that wasn’t going to happen. Krauser moved at inhuman speeds as he tracked each of his Plagas carrying targets, and all the while they had to play catchup. It was the most advantageous situation possible.

The foot soldiers fell first, most of them pointing their guns at thin air as Krauser sprinted around them and tore into their necks. He left a bloody mess in his wake, more conspicuous than Leon had ever been in his time in Spain. No use being subtle now.

With Leon having already taken out a fourth of the squadron, the rest were easy prey for Krauser. The soldiers may have had Plagas as well, but theirs sapped their will as much as it strengthened their muscles. They were little more than puppets, and Krauser considered it a mercy to cut their strings.

As he was finishing off the ground level, a rocket detonated just a few paces behind him. It sent a few corpses flying, and Krauser looked back to find the man frantically checking to see if he’d hit his mark. Krauser’s eyes narrowed as he realized that it had to be the same guy who had blasted Leon earlier. He had the overwhelming urge to hurt this one, efficiency be damned.

Krauser rushed towards his position, ducking and weaving all the while. Even if the guy managed to reload, a slow projectile like his rockets weren’t going to fly true unless he predicted Krauser’s movements as well as Krauser could predict his. Unlikely.

Krauser vaulted up the crumbling structures that pockmarked the landscape, using his arm in much the same way he had on the cliff sides. He could feel the fear washing off of the grenadier as his blade crushed through concrete and the gap between them only grew smaller.

As Krauser set upon him, the soldier turned his weapon to attempt a defense. Krauser saw down the barrel for an instant before whipping it out of his grasp with his normal hand. The soldier stumbled and nearly fell off the structure as his launcher clattered down into the dirt. The fall could have killed him, but that wasn’t enough for Krauser.

He grabbed the man’s arm and outstretched his blade before half-pulling, half-pushing him onto it, straight through his stomach. The man squirmed and grasped pitifully, face contorting in pain. It was exactly how he’d imagined taking Leon’s life. Krauser twisted the blade and relished in the screams he drew.

In the midst of his enjoyment, a crack sounded from somewhere above before Krauser felt a biting pain in his shoulder. He’d been shot, he realized quickly enough, but his body was already working to heal the wound. Krauser turned his head to look to where he’d heard the shot come from. Sure enough, his eyes fell upon the one remaining man: the sniper.

It didn’t even seem worth the effort to climb up and deal with him. That thought in mind, Krauser reached towards his belt and grabbed his TMP. Even at this distance, it would be more than enough to do the job.

The sniper was frantically moving to reload his weapon as Krauser opened fire on his nest. The frail guard rails ripped apart like tissue paper and nailed the sniper, sending him recoiling back before collapsing next to his gun.

With the soldiers neutralized, an eerie quiet fell over the area, broken only by the waves crashing far below. Krauser jumped down to the ground and returned to where Leon had fallen.

Sure enough, he was still there, laying face down on the ground. Krauser approached him and used his boot to flip Leon onto his front. Still, the kid didn’t move except for his mouth falling open. Entirely helpless.

This was the moment, Krauser’s moment of glory. Leon was in the perfect position for him to finish the job forever, to report back to Wesker that the job was done. Yet there he stood, hesitating. The one thing he’d been taught to never do as a soldier.

As he did so, a dry grunt came from Leon, and he squirmed as consciousness found him again. His eyes opened just slightly, giving a hint at the gray-blue of his irises. He blinked once, then twice, like he’d seen a ghost, even more so than their first reunion.

“Krauser?” Leon wheezed out.

He felt his arm retract into its original shape, hiding away the sharp blade he’d carved it into.

"Who'd you think?" he scoffed. "Your little girlfriend?" Krauser wasn’t even sure who he was talking about, the bitch or the president’s daughter. He supposed it didn’t matter.

Leon blinked again and gave a raspy breath that vaguely resembled a laugh, but Krauser figured it was just the kid getting his wits back about him. Leon groaned in his throat and reached up to touch his heavily bruised flank.

“Don’t be stupid,” Krauser said, shaking his head.

He reached into his back pocket, grabbing the can of first aid spray he’d been sure that he wouldn’t need.

“This’ll sting,” he warned as he sprayed it over Leon’s wounds.

Sure enough, Leon hissed, but he couldn’t exactly move to do anything about it. Instead he sat there for a few moments, breathing harshly. His head kept drooping, but Leon kept his eyes on Krauser, not quite willing to let him out of his sight.

Damn stubborn boy scout.

“Now get up, Leon.”

With a forlorn sigh, Leon pushed himself to comply, shoving his arms backwards and forcing his front half up first. The rest of him followed soon after, Leon lifting himself up like a corpse being pulled by strings.

“So-” Leon said, before a cough interrupted him. “- I guess you’re here for a rematch.” He gave a weak smile despite himself. “Third time’s the charm, so they say.”

It was Krauser’s turn to blink quizzically. Was that why he was here? Maybe it could have been, at some point in time, but now…

“No,” he said coldly.

Leon quirked his brow.

“No?” he echoed.

“You’d think you’d never heard the word before, golden boy,” Krauser gruffed, shaking his head. “No. I’m not here to fight you. That’s done, you beat me.”

“I thought I’d killed you,” Leon said, any cocky attitude gone in favor of a strange distance.

“Yeah. You probably did, but you didn’t kill my worm, and they don’t give up on their host so easy.”

“Worm?” Leon said, narrowing his eyes. “You mean, your Plaga?”

Krauser chuffed. “What else?”

Leon hesitated to reply and glanced off to the side with a strange glint in his eyes. One that Krauser knew a little too well.

“Thought maybe you had some bad sushi before coming over,” Leon teased, his humor muted, but so very familiar.

Leon hadn’t changed, not even a little bit. It should have pissed Krauser off more than it did.

“Don’t you have a job to do?” he demanded, spurning Leon’s joke entirely.

“Don’t you?” Leon countered.

Krauser stared at him stiffly, unsure how to answer that. He did have a job to do. In fact, Wesker had given him very clear instructions on what to do. Infiltrate the cult, kidnap the girl, keep an eye on Ada Wong, and kill Leon S. Kennedy.

It was clear. Easy. Krauser had never failed a mission before, never disobeyed an order, never -

“If you want the worms outta you and the girl, you gotta get a move on.” Krauser cocked his head.

Leon stared at him, surprised. The spray must have worked its magic, seeing as Leon was no longer favoring one leg or clutching his middle. Instead, he was checking his ammo supply and keeping an eye on Krauser all the while.

“And you?” Leon finally asked. “Where do you fit in?”

“I’m comin’ with.” Krauser said it with finality, hoping that Leon wouldn’t question it, but that just wasn’t the kid’s nature. He was the type to crawl down a gift horse’s damn throat.

“Why?” Leon stared at him, suspicious, and reasonably so. “What’s in it for you?”

Krauser gritted his teeth. Honestly, he wasn’t sure of that himself.

“You didn’t kill me,” Krauser said, shrugging. “I figure I owe you the same favor.”

“You consider it a favor that I didn’t kill you?” Leon asked, brow furrowed.

“Should I consider it cruelty?” Krauser asked. “You think I’m a dog that needs putting down?”

Leon frowned, averting his eyes.

“Just- keep up, okay?” Leon said, never looking at him.

Without another word, Leon continued through the clearing, turning his back to Krauser for the first time. Krauser stared after him for a long instant. Leon wasn’t a stupid man, that much he knew, so he must have believed Krauser, or at least wanted to believe him. Really, as far as Krauser was concerned, his options were still on the table. He could stick to the plan, kill Leon, go back to Wesker. Nothing would change and he’d have his revenge.

Revenge was tasting awfully sour lately.

Krauser followed after Leon, craving something else entirely.

Chapter Text

Krauser had to hand it to Leon, the kid was still a hell of a marksman. Krauser was cleaving through the Plagas soldiers, but often before he could close the distance, Leon would pop their heads for him. It felt just like old times. The bad guys didn’t stand a chance between the two of them.

Bad guys. Wasn’t Krauser one of those now? That’s what he’d committed to be when he’d gone to Wesker, and Leon certainly seemed to think he was. Then again, would Leon have agreed to Krauser coming with him if he thought Krauser was all bad? It was a question he just didn’t have an answer for. Not that he had the time for it either. They were barely out of the first area before Leon got a call on the radio.

The way Leon’s face lit up at just hearing this guy, Mike, had something sour churning in the bottom of Krauser’s stomach, and he could only watch as Leon eagerly invited the guy out for beers once they got out.

Krauser’s fists clenched, but he forced himself to focus.

Still, Krauser couldn’t deny that the guy was helpful, the way he used his military helicopter to take out obstacles in their way and kill any stragglers. He could appreciate the guy not asking questions about Leon’s companion too.

However, Krauser chose to keep his arm under wraps with the extra pair of eyes on him. That would definitely raise some questions.

It all seemed just a little too easy for Krauser’s liking. As Leon’s spirits heightened, Krauser only grew wary.

Perhaps it was his Plaga, perhaps too many days in the field, but Krauser felt prickles of unease as he followed Leon and Mike through the military facility. He kept scouting the area, looking for something, anything, to explain it, but he came up empty.

He closed his eyes, for a moment, focusing, and there. Right behind the -

It was too late by the time he opened his eyes back up. There was a sharp bang, a sharp whistle through the air, and then the massive explosion as the rocket hit its mark.

He didn’t have to focus to hear the sound Leon made at the sight of the helicopter - and Mike by extension - fall out of the sky and onto the ground below in a flash of smoke and flames.

“Mike,” Leon muttered, hurrying over to the edge of the cliff to glance below for any chance of life.

It was useless, and they both knew it. Mike was dead.

Krauser stepped up behind Leon, glancing around as he checked for coming danger.

“We have to keep moving,” he said, unsure of what else he could have said.

“Mike,” Leon repeated, before he tensed his jaw and reloaded his shotgun.

Leon practically shoved Krauser out of the way as he turned to tear down the path with a vengeance. Krauser watched him with confusion that quickly soured into annoyance as he predicted exactly what Leon was going to do. He half-hoped that he was wrong, but that didn’t seem likely.

Sure enough, as he caught up with Leon, he found the kid blasting through enemy forces like it would bring Mike back. Krauser didn’t so much as lift his gun to help, let alone rush in to fight on Leon’s behalf. Kid could take care of himself just fine without Krauser’s input, that much was obvious. He huffed and watched the carnage play out in front of his eyes. One minute a guy would be yelling out Leon’s position, the next his head was gone, victimized by Leon’s rifle. Krauser wasn’t given so much as a thought from any of them all the while.

By the time Leon was done, the small outcrop was covered in blood and corpses. Leon didn’t wait for Krauser, his bloodlust apparently not satisfied, and he pushed into the door they’d been guarding to look for his next target. Krauser had little option but to trail him into the hidden docks.

The soldiers inside were armed with turrets, Krauser knew, and he couldn’t help but worry that Leon was about to run straight into a wall of bullets.

It was a small relief when Krauser found Leon taking cover behind a crate as a grenade exploded just out of sight. Just as soon as it went off, Leon was out of cover and pushing forward.

“Leon-” Krauser found himself calling out, unsure of what he wanted to accomplish.

Leon was pushing his luck, that much was obvious. He had to be running low on ammo by now, and his berserk state was liable to lead him into a mistake sooner or later.

Right as that thought crossed his mind, Krauser heard a gunshot followed by Leon crying out. It was Krauser’s turn to go berserk. He leapt over some crates and found one of Saddler’s goons closing in on Leon, who was clutching his side. Krauser felt his arm morphing into a blade as he ran for the guy, who only just noticed Krauser as his chest was impaled.

Krauser wasn’t interested in savoring the moment, and he tossed the soldier down into the water just as quickly as he’d stabbed him. He took a glance around, searching for any other possible threats, but found none. Only then did he turn to Leon, finding the kid red in the face and breathing heavily. Whatever trance he’d been in, he was coming off of it.

“Leon, do you-”

“I’m fine, Krauser,” Leon snapped at him. “I have medicine, I just- got carried away.”

“Mike was worth it, huh?” Krauser said, realizing how bitter he must have sounded as soon as he spoke.

Leon stared at Krauser for a long moment before he sighed and shook his head.

“Let’s keep moving,” he said, pushing past Krauser to take a look at the console that controlled a crate pulley system.

As much as he had against Leon, Krauser could never say that he lacked ingenuity. Krauser was more likely to have jumped in and swam across the canal instead of using crates to create makeshift stepping stones to the other side. He tried not to think about the way Leon avoided looking at him as they both made their way across.

Enemy forces seemed to conspicuously disappear as they reached the other side of the canal. Even as Krauser tuned into his Plaga, it didn't sense any others nearby. Still, he couldn't help but be wary.

On top of that, Leon was slowing down in front of him. Krauser caught up with him without even trying, and he didn't seem to care or even notice. Maybe Krauser was being ignored, but it didn't seem that way.

At first Krauser chalked it up to his injuries, his lack of sleep, his lack of food, but the further they walked, the more he realized that the plaga inside of Leon was growing faster than Krauser had anticipated. It was fighting him for control and, God help them both, Krauser suspected that it was being manipulated remotely. Krauser couldn't sense other Plagas, but it seemed likely that a dominant strain like his own could mute its presence, even while active. He wondered how far Saddler's worm had progressed.

In the narrow hallway, Leon’s breath came in heavy, raspy groans, and he had taken to clutching his middle again.

“Leon?” Krauser spoke up.

His only reply was a painful cough and a rasp as Leon tried to catch his breath. Leon's gun clattered to the floor as he grabbed his chest and started to shake all over.

Krauser reached out to steady him, and couldn't help but feel how hard Leon's heart was thumping. He could hear the Plaga inside, screaming out as it fought to overtake Leon and bend to the will of another. Saddler. He hadn’t shown himself yet, but he had to be near.

“Leon, come on, fight it,” he urged the kid.

He wasn’t entirely sure what would happen if two dominant Plaga strains fought for control, but he couldn’t help wanting to try when Leon was in such a state. Krauser breathed in and reached out to Leon’s Plaga with his own, doing all he could to tell it to stop, stop moving, stop growing, stop making its host suffer.

Leon gritted his teeth, and though he still couldn’t support himself, his breathing eased a bit, his pulse slowing.

“Had a change of heart, have we?” came an all-too-familiar voice from down the hall.

Krauser looked up to sneer at Saddler, who just stood there, calm as could be. Even now, Krauser couldn’t sense his Plaga. No wonder he seemed to come out of nowhere.

“I knew you were weak and easily led, but I didn’t think quite this weak,” Saddler continued. “He thought he’d killed you, and now you serve his will. Even with the power you harbor, he dominates you. And here I thought you couldn’t get more pathetic.”

Krauser’s anger flared, but couldn’t reply, too focused on keeping Leon from collapsing entirely.

“You- you son of a bitch,” Leon stammered out, glaring at Saddler as best he could.

Saddler clicked his tongue and shook his head. “I don’t believe you have room to criticize. You accused me of using our friend Krauser, and yet here you are, using him for extra muscle. Perhaps Las Plagas have secrets that only the less-than-ideal hosts can unlock.”

Saddler raised his arm up to point at Leon, and as soon as the motion started, Krauser’s instincts kicked in. His arm erupted into a wide shield of bone and he held it between Leon and Saddler. It was only a few seconds later that he realized that there was no gun in Saddler’s hand.

Saddler laughed at the gesture. “You could do so much more, but you’re held back by your own weakness. Quite a shame. Kennedy would have made a better master host than you.”

“I’ll kill you,” Krauser snarled.

“Me?” Saddler scoffed. “You couldn’t so much as kill him. Why think you could kill me?”

Krauser was ready to throw himself at Saddler, out of anger at being treated as a tool, at his smug attitude, but most of all, at the fact that he was right.

As he was preparing to strike, though, Krauser felt a sharp pain in his waist. He hissed and glared towards the pain, only to find Leon stabbing his knife into Krauser's flesh. His eyes were far away, his fire snuffed out.

"Saddler!" Krauser barked as he lunged for the man, uncaring of the blade dragging out of him.

He didn't get far before Leon had leapt onto him, stabbing his back as he followed the urge to protect Saddler, or at least the Plaga inside him.

“Leon, you have to- Urgh!” He cut off as Leon’s knife dug into his back, just below his shoulder blade.

“I’ll leave you two lovebirds to it then,” Saddler practically purred as he strolled off the way he must have come.

“You fucking son of a-”

Krauser shouted as he left, but knew that Leon needed his attention more desperately.

“Fuck,” he hissed, reaching back to grab for Leon’s arm. He needed to pin the kid, hold him down while he got through to the Plaga. He knew that he could, he just had to grab the slippery little shit.

With Leon’s arm as his one vantage point, Krauser dragged Leon in front of himself. Leon yelped and his knife hand slipped, leaving the blade still in Krauser’s back. He was pretty sure he’d popped Leon’s joint out of its socket in the process, but he couldn’t stop now. As soon as the opportunity arose, Krauser wrapped his unmutated arm around Leon’s neck in a half-nelson. Leon gagged and started flailing all at once, doing all he could to get Krauser off of him.

“You’ll thank me later, kid,” Krauser grumbled as he tightened his grasp.

As Leon shoved and hit and elbowed at him, Krauser maneuvered him so that Leon’s back pushed up against his chest, and only tightened his grasp on Leon’s throat. It was a bit brutal, but the Plaga needed oxygen too, and depriving it was likely to leave it more open to Krauser’s influence.

Leon grabbed at his arm, clawed at it trying to get free, but he just didn’t have the leverage. Krauser was careful with his left arm, careful with its sharp edges as he wrapped the flat of it over Leon’s belly.

“It’s alright, Leon,” Krauser found himself murmuring in his ear. “We’re gonna- gonna get that thing out of you. Just relax. Relax.”

Krauser had no idea if Leon even heard him, but with his oxygen supply running low, he did as he was told. His struggles faltered as he focused on just trying to get a breath, his arms drooping to his sides as the rest of his body went limp.

Krauser found his own energy reserves running low too as Leon ceased his struggle. He took a few steps off to the side until his shoulder found the closest wall. He shook the knife in his back free, letting it clatter to the floor. Already his Plaga had stopped the worst of the bleeding, allowing him the freedom to slip to the floor with Leon in tow. He let up on his grip then, gently settling Leon in his lap.

Leon gasped in a breath and shook against Krauser, but any inclinations to fight seemed to have gone. Even so, Krauser sent out soothing pulses, hoping that he could pacify Leon’s Plaga for as long as possible.

It was impossible for Krauser to say exactly how long they sat there, both of them panting as they slowly caught their breath. Time seemed to slow down around them. Krauser knew that it had to be intentional on Saddler’s part that no soldiers came to attack them. That sick fuck and his twisted little games.

All Krauser knew was that the silence was broken by Leon.

“Jack,” Leon rasped out.

“Don’t talk, kid,” Krauser said. “You’ll need that energy.”

Leon shook his head. He never was very good at listening to orders.

“Krauser- Jack,” he kept on. “You- there’s so much to say. Too much. Things I should have…”

“S-sh,” Krauser soothed, easing his grip on Leon even further.

That seemed to do the trick, as Leon quieted down.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Jack, I’m sorry.”

Krauser chuffed. Leon was obviously still suffering from oxygen deprivation.

“What?” he said. “For stabbing me?”

“Your arm.”

Those two little words had Krauser’s blood freeze and boil all at once. He didn’t reply, didn’t even breathe. He was simply numb.

“I never should have…” Leon trailed off, his face pale. “Ashley,” he breathed, before untangling himself from Krauser’s arms. “I gotta…”

Krauser’s heart felt like it had stopped in his chest, and he couldn’t get himself to move immediately as Leon hurried down the hallway. He understood why Leon had done it, that the girl was his mission, but still he ached like the world had collapsed around him.

Chapter Text

A full minute must have passed before Krauser forced himself to his feet. He didn’t really want to follow Leon, not with the threat of him finishing their conversation, but he knew that he had to. He did his best to channel his military training and swallow his pride before following Leon’s trail. The girl wasn’t far now, he could perceive that much, and Leon must have felt it too, somehow.

He found himself at the mouth of a heavy, steel door, swung wide open, and figured that it had to be the place. Sure enough, as he walked in, there was Ashley, unconscious in a tubular containment pod. Leon didn’t hesitate, just stormed for her, impulsive as ever.

He slammed the button on the side of the pod, not once stopping to make sure the thing did what he wanted. But this was Leon S. Kennedy, the hero, and Krauser could only glare as the glass door slid open, and Leon caught Ashley in his arms. Always the gallant hero, just like with Manuela.

She started coughing, clinging to Leon, and Leon mumbled words of encouragement to her. She blinked up at him and a smile crossed her face briefly, before her eyes drifted over to Krauser.

It was startling, the change in her. Gone were the doe-like gaze and the softness of her movements, instead it was replaced by a shrill scream as she stared at him.

“It’s-” she started, pointing to Krauser. “It’s him!”

“It’s okay, Ashley,” Leon said, glancing over to Krauser. “He’s a friend.”

“He’s the one who kidnapped me in the first place!”

“He saved me,” Leon insisted. “He could have killed me, but-”

“I’ll go,” Krauser broke in. “You got the girl. You don’t need me anymore.”

“I have a name, you big brute!” Ashley snapped at him.

“Krauser, no, you’re coming too,” Leon said, shaking his head.

Krauser’s frown only deepened, unsure of what to say to that.

In the end he didn’t have to.

“Such arrogance,” a cold, harsh voice said from the shadows, and when they turned to it, Krauser realized that Saddler had been waiting in the shadows all along, no doubt wanting to test his plaga.

Saddler stepped into the light, in all his self-important glory, his head held high and his eyes gleaming. Immediately, Krauser stepped between Saddler and Leon.

“You didn’t think I’d allow you to walk out of here alive, did you?” Saddler asked, stalking closer. He was looking past Krauser, not even truly talking to him.

It seemed as though he expected Krauser to make way, almost walking straight into him before Krauser reached out and shoved him backward.

Saddler grunted as he stumbled back, glaring at Krauser now.

“How dare you,” he growled, his smug facade taking a backseat. It seemed he wasn’t used to any kind of defiance, not with all his underlings at his beck and call.

“Take Ashley and go, Leon,” Krauser ordered, not once taking his eyes off of Saddler.

“I’m not leaving you again!” Leon shouted back.

“I’ll be fine, just go,” Krauser said, grabbing his gun.

“No, Krauser,” Saddler hissed as his skin started to wriggle and redden. “I’ll make sure you stay dead this time.”

He heard two sets of footsteps running behind him. Good, he told himself. At least if he died, it wouldn’t be for nothing.

Saddler moved to follow them, slow as ever, and once again Krauser grabbed and shoved him back. This time, though, Saddler was heavier, harder to move, and Krauser knew that could mean only one thing.

Saddler reared back before swiping at Krauser with his full weight, knocking him back this time. Krauser stumbled before flipping back and landing on his feet.

“Las Plagas has benefitted you greatly, Krauser,” Saddler said, his head twitching all the while. “But you lack the fortitude to unleash its full potential. Here, let me show you.”

He pulled back for a sickening second before he lashed out at Krauser with elongated arms that seemed more like tendrils than anything human. Krauser had to wonder what else that robe of his kept hidden. He imagined it wouldn’t be pretty.

Gritting his teeth, Krauser did a backflip, but Saddler just lashed out again, whipping the tendrils against Krauser’s head.

“Too slow,” he said triumphantly, before giving Krauser another whack.

Saddler was just playing with him, enjoying playing with him even, like Krauser was nothing but mere training for the main event. Krauser couldn’t risk making sure, but he hoped Leon had gotten far, far away.

Krauser was well-aware that he’d need to fight fire with fire. Despite the many times he’d done it, Krauser couldn’t quite get used to the feeling of his arm splitting open, or the pulsating feeling of the Plaga when he did. He charged for Saddler with his arm protecting his face, and at the last second he darted sideways, before driving the blade into Saddler’s body.

With a roar, Saddler staggered backwards, before opening his mouth. For a few seconds Krauser thought Saddler was about to puke, until his jaw unhinged like a snake’s, and a giant eye stared out at him.

It wanted to burst through his head, Krauser knew. And, even more horrifying, Saddler wanted the same. They just couldn’t make it happen at that moment. Despite knowing full well what the Plagas could do, Krauser still couldn’t help the cold horror that set in his chest.

The pause was just enough of an opening for Saddler, with newfound, inhuman strength to grab Krauser and toss him away. Krauser stopped himself rolling just in time to see the gaping hole he’d left already repairing itself. Saddler’s tendrils lifted up and Krauser raised his arm to protect himself. It did little to help, though, as he was flailed from above.

Krauser snarled at the pain, but knew better than to stay where he was. As the tendrils raised again, Krauser adjusted the angle of his arm, and as he was struck again, Saddler gave a muffled shriek of pain. The remains of his Plaga appendages fell to Krauser’s side and he pushed himself up to run for the stairs up. Even a little distance would serve him well.

Saddler seemed to have forgotten Leon and the girl, enraged by Krauser’s defiance. He followed, but plodding, his body clearly fighting the mutilation it was being forced to undergo. Krauser grew even more horrified as he considered how easily he could do the same. How likely he would do the same if his Plaga was allowed to grow.

Krauser turned and raised his gun towards Saddler before spraying him with bullets. It hardly seemed to have any effect, except for a few that hit the third eye, staggering him. Shit, he was more Plaga than man now.

Krauser hurried up the stairs, never taking his eyes off of Saddler, who was rapidly regrowing his tendrils. More than that, his body was pulsing, like a cocoon ready to burst.

As Krauser reached the catwalk over the room, Saddler was merely standing at the bottom of the steps, twitching and pulsing. Krauser aimed his TMP and fired on Saddler, but the bullets only seemed to be absorbed with no impact.

All at once, massive, clawed tendrils exploded from Saddler. His entire form bulged and grew into a new, entirely alien shape. The Plaga showed itself in its most disgustingly powerful form. To top it all off, with one final push, it burst through Saddler’s head, taking his face upward with it. Krauser balked in horror at the beast in front of him, Saddler’s face at his level now, while that terrible single eye stared out from his torso.

Even more horrifying, though, was his own Plaga’s pulsing, urging Krauser to allow it the same freedom. It wanted to fight this rival and use his body to become just as massive and powerful. Krauser knew it might just work.

A black tendril swept across the walkway, and Krauser barely managed to hop over it.

“Come, Krauser.” Saddler’s voice was even raspier and more distorted now. He wasn’t the only one speaking anymore. “Give in to your power, let it make you strong.”

He had to hold back. If he gave in now- well, he didn’t know what exactly would happen, but he knew there would be no going back. He’d be as good as dead. He’d never see Leon again.

As the tendril came down to swipe him away, Krauser leapt and slashed at it with his arm. It severed just like before, and an ear-splitting shriek erupted from Saddler’s twisted form. The sound was an inhuman melding of what was left of Saddler’s voice and the Plaga’s animalistic shrieking.

Despite his already massive size, Saddler wasn’t done spreading out. Two of his remaining tendril limbs shot upwards and embedded their claws into the concrete. Chunks of the ceiling rained down over Krauser, and he lifted his arm to protect his eyes.

Now, Saddler hung suspended from the ceiling, like a giant spider and spider’s web all in one. Four of the thickest tendrils rooted Saddler in place, forming a diamond shape, but more had sprouted since Krauser had cut one off.

Krauser backed off, for what little good it did, firing off his TMP as he put what distance he could between himself and the blob of flesh Saddler had become. Saddler shrieked out protests for every bullet that met his eye, and tendrils swung down towards Krauser. He just barely managed to duck out of the way, only for the concrete where he’d stood just seconds earlier to be pulverized.

No sooner than he’d shoved himself to his feet, Krauser felt another tendril at his back, and before he could react, it was wrapped around him. He tried to rotate his bladed arm, tried to cut through, but Saddler was crushing it against his side this time.

“Your stubbornness has kept you alive, my friend.” Saddler’s words seemed to resonate through the tendril, droning into Krauser. “But now, it will be your end. You could kill me, but still you hesitate. Can’t you imagine more than an arm? Do you have no vision?!”

Krauser gritted his teeth. Saddler was right that he could do more. He could see a bloated heap of flesh, one side impossibly muscular, yet the whole body mobile and nimble. As nimble as something the size of Saddler could be. It could cut Saddler down, tear his Plaga apart, but Krauser would be gone. Worse than gone, all twisted and wrong. It was what Saddler wanted, to prove his sick ideology right.

Krauser was tired of being used.

All at once, Krauser retracted his arm. Saddler’s grip failed to account for the sudden gap, and Krauser had just enough time to grab his combat knife. An upward slash was enough to have the Plaga roaring in pain and retracting enough for Krauser to slip out of its grasp fully.

It was only a small comfort as Saddler brought two more tendrils slamming down, forcing Krauser to take a dive down to the ground level. Glass and concrete shattered as Krauser rolled to the floor.

This time, though, he didn’t have time to do more than roll onto his back before he was pinned in place by overwhelming weight from above. Saddler wasn’t playing with him this time, pressing his bulk down on Krauser and looming straight over him.

“You try my patience,” Saddler rasped out, voice booming now.

If it was possible, the pressure increased, causing Krauser’s eyes to bulge. The weight was crushing and Krauser felt himself gape as the air was squeezed out of him, his heart struggling to pump blood. Krauser couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move anything but his head.

“Once I crush you, I’ll do the same to Kennedy, and I’ll make it slow.”

Krauser’s anger flared and he did the only thing he could, baring his teeth and glaring Saddler down. If this was how he died, then he was alright with that. He only hoped Leon would forgive him for everything.

As that thought entered his mind, he thought he heard Leon, one final time.

“So why don’t you come and get me, you big ugly worm!”

Something boomed high above, and that was when Krauser realized that he wasn’t hearing things.

Leon. Even with Krauser’s body immobilized, his emotions rushed. In one second, he was overjoyed at the thought of Leon having come back for him. The next moment, horror set in that Leon had come back for him. Now they were both in mortal danger.

Dammit, why did the kid never listen?

All at once, the pressure released, and Krauser wheezed in a breath. He could barely feel his limbs at first, let alone comprehend what was going on. Saddler screeched, his attention wrenched away from Krauser.

Krauser curled onto his side, steadying himself with his hand, but unable to properly move just yet. Another blast sounded off from above him. Christ, did the kid find a box of grenades?

No such luck. As Krauser managed to push himself so he could see Leon, in all his disheveled glory, he saw exactly what was making Saddler go boom, mounted on Leon’s shoulder.

The kid brought a rocket launcher. Krauser could have laughed. Never let it be said that Leon was completely stupid.

Then again…

“You came back,” Saddler hissed as he hesitated and stared down Leon. “Foolish.”

Leon was still for a moment as Saddler tried to wrest control over him. Krauser’s heart thumped as he waited for Leon to turn his weapon on him, but it never happened. A smirk crossed Leon’s face.

“Yeah, can’t make me do your dirty work anymore, can you, cyclops?!” he taunted. “You’re nothing without your little minions!”

Leon had- extracted his Plaga?

Krauser barely had time to consider the implications of that before Saddler roared and stabbed a tendril towards Leon, who hopped aside. Even with a RPG on his shoulder, Leon was still moving fast as Saddler continued to swipe at him, trying to get in any hit he could. At the same time, Krauser could see Saddler’s ceiling rooted limbs re-establishing their purchase, sending more scattered concrete shards and dust down to the floor. Krauser could see bloodstains where Leon’s rockets must have hit their marks. Fuck, Saddler was massive now.

His Plaga had Krauser healed up at least, and he forced himself to his feet. He couldn’t just sit around being deadweight; he needed to help Leon take this thing down.

“Leon!” he called. “Six o’clock!”

Leon glanced at him, surprised for a moment before giving Krauser a half-smile. He took aim and shot for the exact tendril Krauser had meant.

As Saddler roared, his body also sagged downward, right into Krauser’s range. He leapt upward and looped his arm over one of Saddler’s limbs before driving his knife into the Plaga’s eye. The only thing he knew for sure was that it didn’t like that. That was more than enough for Krauser.

Saddler reoriented himself shortly after, and shook his body hard enough to force Krauser to let go and fall back to the floor.

“Krauser!” Leon called as he was readying himself for more combat. “Twelve o’clock!”

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Saddler was moving to react. He lifted his body upward and as Leon fired off, the rocket burst uselessly against excess flesh.

“You think me a fool?” Saddler rumbled, a laugh in his distorted voice.

He lashed out at Leon then, forcing him to flee. They were going to have to rethink their strategy. Krauser was ready to try leaping on his own when Leon yelled out again.

“Krauser, I’m hitting a three-bagger!”

Krauser blinked and looked at him for a moment.

“You run, I hit!” he insisted.

Of course Krauser was running. He had no idea what- Oh. Oh.

Krauser looked at the root nearest to Leon and followed counterclockwise before he ran for it. Saddler had already heard Leon’s call and decided to protect the opposite root. This might just work.

Leon’s rocket hit its mark and Krauser leapt onto Saddler just as before, stabbing his central eye.

Saddler roared, perhaps from both the pain and frustration. Christ, Krauser hadn’t played baseball in years, but he’d become adept at remembering jargon in the military. Leon, it seemed, was similarly versed.

“Going for hitter’s backstop!”

“Triple from runner’s home!”

“Fill in your first scoring position!”

It was simple enough. Runner meant Krauser’s position, hitter meant Leon’s, and every move was counterclockwise. The words changed, but the meanings stayed the same. It was enough to keep Saddler guessing, and while he managed to block some hits, he was getting worn out with each success.

“Hitter’s double!” Leon called.

Krauser knew that Saddler wasn’t going to last much longer, and he wanted it all to be over already himself. With a grunt, he called on his Plaga and felt his arm twist into a blade once more. He leapt straight for the eye and sunk it in.

“A-a-argh!” Saddler’s cry was more distorted, more animal than any other he’d made.

As Krauser hauled the blade back out, the eye was left with a gaping hole. This time, he didn’t immediately re-root himself. Krauser jumped down of his own accord, standing next to Leon.

Saddler’s face, what was left of it, was wincing, the long stalk it was fixed on waving back and forth, as though he truly couldn’t see.

“You- you American swine!” he shouted, the former root tendril swiping in their direction.

Krauser grabbed Leon and hurried them both out of the way. It seemed, though, that they were never in much danger, as it collapsed uselessly to the ground.

But more than that was collapsing. A large chunk of concrete was soon to follow. Krauser whipped his gaze up and found the ceiling beginning to form honeycomb cracks, more and more by the second, all leading to Saddler’s roots.

Shit.

“It’s caving in!” Leon shouted, any coded illusions broken. “Run!”

It was Leon’s turn to grab Krauser, and Krauser was more than happy to follow. They ground to a halt as Saddler pushed himself up and blocked their exit

“You- you die too,” he rasped.

Krauser poised to tear right through him if he had to. He was getting Leon out, no matter what. Leon, however, had other plans. He let go of Krauser and loaded his RPG again.

"Time for a home run, you overgrown sack of crap!"

Krauser barely had a chance to comprehend what Leon had said before he'd fired off the rocket and it slammed into the hole Krauser had left.

Saddler stiffened up like it had been stuffed down his throat. Maybe it had, as far as the Plaga was concerned. In an instant, the charge exploded, and Saddler went limp and collapsed on his side.

Just like that, Leon ditched the RPG and grabbed Krauser again.

“Come on!” he urged.

They had to leap over the mess of tentacle-like appendages that the Plaga had produced, but he and Leon managed to make it to the door as the building was collapsing in on itself. Leon kicked doors open where he had to, anything to get them out faster

Krauser felt like a sailor, stranded at sea, finally seeing land for the first time as Leon kicked one final set of doors open to reveal a moonlit cliff face. Leon didn’t stop until they were clear of the building’s proximity, at which point he stopped, gasped in a breath, and collapsed onto the dirt.

As Krauser’s prolonged adrenaline rush reached its end, he felt very inclined to join Leon, so that’s what he did. In front of them, the building they’d been in only moments before crumbled in on itself, burying Saddler in its remains. Good. Krauser could rest somewhat easy.

He didn’t have to will his arm to retract; it seemed to do so on its own. All the while, he realized just how fast his heart had been beating, how short of breath he really was. Krauser couldn’t remember being winded since he’d gotten the Plagas. No, that wasn’t right, he realized. He’d been winded when he’d fought Leon.

He turned his head to look at Leon, just as worn out and knocked down by fatigue. It seemed like such a long time since he’d tried to kill him, but it had only been earlier in the evening. Morning must not have been far. So much had changed in such a short time.

Next to him, between frantic breaths, a rasp escaped Leon. Krauser knew exactly what it was this time, and wasn’t surprised as Leon began to laugh. For once, Krauser found himself chuckling too. Pure relief.

“Kra-Krauser,” Leon gasped out between laughs and breaths. “You- you kicked ass back there.”

“No,” Krauser said, not even capable of shaking his head. “We kicked ass.”

That had Leon laughing even harder, and he reached out to grasp onto Krauser’s bicep. He inhaled sharply at the touch before realizing that it wasn’t such an unfamiliar thing anymore. By all rights, Leon touching him should have been the easiest thing in the world for Krauser.

In spite of himself, Krauser had to ask, “Where’s the- Ashley?”

“Safe,” Leon told him, smiling. “The Ashley is safe.”

Krauser found himself giving a strained half-smile, but the questions kept coming. “Your Plaga?”

“Gone,” Leon said, smiling even brighter. “We found- you should just come look. In a couple minutes.”

On that note, Leon relaxed fully, but his hand stayed on Krauser’s arm.

Chapter Text

When they’d both finally caught their breath and eased up after the fight, Leon led Krauser through what seemed to be a Plagas research facility. Whatever they’d dug up in here, if Wesker knew about it, then he’d want the data transferred to him and the entire island destroyed. When that happened, he had to get Leon and Ashley away.

Finally, Leon led him through a set of doors into a relatively well-lit room in which a strange, surgical machine loomed. His eyes were drawn to it immediately, and he got the strangest sense that it was waiting for him. Like a predator in the grass. Something even bigger and more powerful than Krauser could dream of being.

“Leon!” Ashley cried out.from another corner of the room.

Krauser glanced towards her, disinterested. She ran towards Leon, but came to a cold stop as she realized who he was with. She didn’t scream this time, at least, only glared at Krauser like he might repeat his past actions. Krauser didn’t blame her.

“Told you I’d be back, didn’t I?” Leon said, giving her a smile.

“Yeah,” she said. “You didn’t say anything about…”

She trailed off, but her meaning was clear.

“He’s a friend,” Leon said, echoing his earlier words. “I know he kidnapped you, but if it weren’t for him, we’d both be dead by now. Or worse.”

Krauser chuffed. If his intuition was right, the bitch wouldn’t have let that happen. She must have been around somewhere

“He wouldn’t have helped me deal with Saddler if he was really one of the bad guys.”

Even now, Krauser wasn’t entirely sure if that was true. He couldn’t exactly crawl back to Wesker, but did that make him not a bad guy? He didn’t know.

“I- trust you, Leon,” Ashley said, her inferred meaning very clear. She’d always fear him, Krauser knew that much, and he didn’t mind. She’d never have to see him again once she was home.

“And now you have a chance to get that thing out of you,” Leon continued, fully addressing Krauser now.

He gestured towards the machine, that awful, damnable machine dangling a choice in front him. Some part of Krauser wanted to tear it apart, forget the entire thing, get Leon off this island and go their separate ways.

Instead, Krauser merely stalked around it, hesitant and cautious all the while. He took a look at the control panel, where a screen was playing back footage of what must have been a Plaga, going from calm and serene to pulsing and seizing as it fought to stay with its host. He wondered, distantly, if his Plaga looked the same and would be purged the same way.

Krauser stared down at his own arm, flexing his fingers. He still vividly remembered how his arm had felt after the incident. How his fingers hadn’t even been able to grasp a glass of water at the worst of it. IV fluids and feeding tubes...

When he looked up at last, he met Leon’s gaze, who was watching him intently, his lips conspicuously sealed. Krauser flexed his fingers again without looking at them, as though he’d just been stretching them. Hemight not have been the best to pick up on other people’s emotions, but somehow Leon’s were written on his face, clear as day.

I never should have…

Never should have what? Krauser stared back at Leon, trying to will him to answer. Never should have what? Trusted him? Fought alongside him? Met him at all?

He wasn’t being fair, Krauser knew. Leon wasn’t like that, as much as Krauser tried to convince himself that he was just another in a line of people who had used Krauser. He’d thought he’d stamped out any inklings of compassion and unconditional kindness being shown towards him, yet Leon was the most stubborn man Krauser had ever known. The most stubborn and the most caring. The most earnest. Krauser knew from experience that no one could fake the way Leon looked at him. Like Krauser was important, like he was worth more than just his physical prowess and kill count.

Still, he feared what would happen if he was separated from his Plaga. He’d be stuck in the same state he’d been in when the parasite had been implanted. His arm would be weak, his whole body in fact, but his arm in the worst shape of all. Would Leon care at all once he was deadweight on his mission? What about after the mission? Krauser’s heart wrenched at the thought of being left alone for a second time.

“It- might not work,” Krauser said, stalling the inevitable.

“We won’t know unless you try,” Leon urged. “Krauser, please. I’ll be right here.”

Leon reassured him as though he was a child getting a shot. He wanted to find it patronizing, but, from Leon’s mouth, it was genuine. Just as genuine as everything Leon had ever said. The kid didn’t have a single manipulative bone in his body. His employers not so much, but that wasn’t what was important just then.

“Okay,” he said at last, feeling his chest go cold.

He didn’t want to go onto the table, but he’d already promised Leon. If he got cold feet now- well, he told himself that that wasn’t an option.

Krauser laid down on the table and found himself forced to stare up at the machine’s spider-like appendages.

“Just do it,” Krauser insisted, shutting his eyes.

He heard Leon shuffle around to the console, but he tried not to think about it. As best he could, Krauser thought of memories long since passed. His carefree few days as a kid, enjoying the sun and the grass. The friends he’d made in the army. The time he’d spent with Leon…

All at once, it was as though Krauser’s very being was being ripped from his flesh. His ears rung so hard that it felt like his whole skull might shatter, and he was sure that he was screaming, though he couldn’t hear it. The worm inside him screamed too, he knew that, screamed and clung to him for dear life as he and it were separated for good.

It felt like it went on forever, and Krauser didn’t immediately realize when it stopped. His entire body buzzed with electricity and pain and-

His arm. He couldn’t move his arm. It was the first thing he tried to do, and he just couldn’t. It hurt.

“Krauser?” he heard Leon say, as though he was speaking through water.

He felt the sound he made more than he heard it, a groan deep in his throat.

“That looked really bad,” he heard Ashley mumble nearby.

“Jack,” Leon said, placing a hand on his arm.

It wasn’t a touch like before. Krauser yelped as pain zinged through him, and he lashed out, grabbing at Leon with his good arm.

“Leon!” Ashley cried out.

She must have thought Krauser wanted to kill him, but Krauser wasn’t sure he could have even if he’d wanted to. Even his good arm was shaky, and he could barely support his own weight.

“It’s okay,” Leon said, ignoring Ashley’s concern entirely. “It’s out of us all now. We can go home.”

Home. Krauser didn’t associate that word with much of anything anymore. Nothing and nowhere felt like home anymore. At least, it hadn’t. It hadn’t until very recently.

Still shaky, Krauser sat up and over the edge of the table. All the while, his left arm wouldn’t move. It must have been even worse than it had been when he’d first been injured.

“Krauser,” Leon whispered, leaning down so they were face-to-face with each other.

His hand slid down onto Krauser’s arm again, but gentler, more thoughtful. It was pleasantly warm, even with the dull ache settling from his shoulder down to his hand. Leon seemed to follow that sensation with his touch, all the way until his palm rested against Krauser’s.

“I’m sorry,” Leon said.

Krauser didn’t know if Leon meant he was sorry that he’d been re-crippled, or that he was in pain, or if Leon was just sorry that the injury happened in the first place. It didn’t matter much, he supposed. He’d made his choice and that meant his arm, and Krauser himself by extension, was rendered useless.

“You should get Ashley out of here,” he said at last. “There’s a boat-”

“Krauser, for the last time-” Leon broke in, gaze hardening. “-you are coming with us,”

Krauser couldn’t help that his mind wandered to what would happen if he did get off this godforsaken island and go with Leon. He knew for a fact that he’d never walk free again. No matter what information he could provide, he’d simply be a dog on a short leash.

But then he saw Leon again, staring him down with a mix of determination and desperation and- something else.

“Please,” Leon breathed. “I can’t lose you again.”

Krauser’s heart skipped in his chest.

“Come on then,” he said, getting to his feet. He hissed as his arm protested the movement, but pushed on anyway. “Need to get to the docks. I have a boat.”

Assuming that it hadn’t been destroyed in all the commotion. Shit, even if it was, Krauser got the sense that Leon would be happy to hijack one of the larger boats if it meant getting away with Krauser and Ashley intact.

Crazy kid.

Krauser led them outside and glanced around as he got his bearings.

“This way,” he said, gesturing towards the left path heading downward with his good arm.

As they hurried down, the telltale buzz of a helicopter nearby reached Krauser’s ears. Leon must have heard it just as quickly, as he grabbed his rifle and readied to fire. Krauser grabbed his TMP, not wanting to be entirely useless, but found himself faltering with the weight. Dammit.

As the helicopter came around the bend and hovered above them, however, no gunfire came with it. It hovered downwards so that they could see within, and it immediately became obvious why.

“Ada!” Leon called out, lowering his weapon.

Kid probably expected her to let them jump on, but Krauser knew better than to be so naive. She was probably pissed that Leon had gone out of his way to save Krauser.

“You two sure know how to bring the roof down!” she shouted to them. “But I’ll bet I can do better!”

Leon’s face scrunched in confusion for an instant before she held up a remote detonator and brought her thumb down on the trigger.

Krauser’s heart dropped, but nothing happened immediately.

“You’d better get your little harem to a boat, Leon!” Ada said as the helicopter was already turning to leave. “The island’s gonna blow!”

Barely a second after she’d finished, Leon grabbed Ashley and Krauser and just about pulled them both down the path.

“Let’s go!” he yelled, as though he needed to remind them of their peril. “No time!”

Krauser thanked whatever powers-that-be that his arm had been crippled instead of a leg. He kept up with Leon, but found himself tempted to just grab Ashley and carry her. He refrained.

They made it into the hidden docks and both Krauser and Leon rapidly scanned the water.

“There!” Krauser said, pointing to the speedboat he’d taken to the island, still tied up where he’d left it.

Ashley was first down the stairs this time, and they all rushed down as fast as their legs could take them without tripping.

Leon barreled past Krauser and jumped straight in the driver’s seat. Ashley fell in towards the back, getting low to the floor. Probably felt safer that way. Before he got in, Krauser grabbed his knife and slashed the docking rope. No time for messing with knots.

“Might need these, kid,” Krauser said, hopping in next to him and grabbing the keys from his pocket.

Leon wordlessly grabbed them from Krauser and shoved them into the ignition slot, too focused to make any quips. Krauser hadn’t known that that was possible.

Thank God, the engine was quick to start and Leon wasn’t shy with the gas pedal. Krauser was pushed back in his seat as they rocketed off down the tunnel. In the meantime, the island had begun to shake around them, sending rocks crumbling off the ceiling and boats tilting away from where they were moored.

All Krauser could do was hang on as Leon swerved to dodge debris. He glanced back, checking that Ashley wasn’t going to go flying, but she was holding on just as hard. She had a hell of a survival instinct, Krauser had to give her that much.

Behind her, though, was a swell of water, no doubt caused by cave-ins where they’d all been standing less than a minute ago. Shit.

“Hang on!” Leon called, as though they weren’t all doing exactly that.

If it was possible, Leon pressed down on the gas even harder, pinning Krauser back in his seat. He gritted his teeth as the water roared behind them. He shut his eyes and heard Ashley scream. They couldn’t make it, no way in hell, not when it was so clearly Krauser’s fate to die there, and just being there had to have doomed-

All at once, the boat flew into the air before hitting the water with a slap. Krauser felt cool, fresh morning air on his face. Had they made it?

Krauser shut his eyes and found nothing but open water and the sun peeking over the horizon. Holy shit. Leon had really done it.

Leon didn’t slow down until they were completely clear of the island. As Krauser glanced back, he found it wrapped in multiple massive explosions that were quickly forming plumes of fire and smoke. Jesus. If Saddler hadn’t been dead before, he sure as hell was now. Wesker got his way after all; no evidence left behind.

As the boat slowed, Krauser was finally able to take a breath. They were all out in one piece, and he drank that fact in. Leave it to Leon to make the impossible possible.

Leon followed Krauser’s eyes as the boat slowed to just a crawl, staring back at the island. He glanced at Krauser, astonishment in his eyes, like he couldn’t believe it anymore than Krauser could.

“So,” came Ashley’s voice, cutting through the tension. “I take it you two know each other.”

The anger she’d harbored previously in Krauser’s presence seemed to have mellowed, giving way to something like puzzlement.

“You could say that,” Krauser answered, as though they all hadn’t just escaped death by the skin of their teeth.

Leon narrowed his eyes at Krauser for an instant before a smile crossed his face, as bright as any Krauser had ever seen. Then, just like that, he started to laugh, with an emotion that Krauser could only describe as joy at simply being alive. Soon after, Ashley joined in with that very same relief and joy. Krauser couldn’t quite find it in himself to laugh, but he smiled just the same, gazing at Leon whose eyes ran with tears.

“Suck it, Saddler!” Leon shouted across the water.

“Yeah!” Ashley chimed in. “Suck it!”

Krauser managed a chuckle at that. It occurred to him then just how much Leon and Ashley had been through together, a lot like what he and Krauser had been through. He really wasn’t all that special in Leon’s world. It would be a lot easier for Leon if he forgot Krauser and let this girl’s affection for him bloom. Despite that melancholy thought, Krauser found himself inclined to make his own addition.

“Rot in hell you overstuffed mutant freak!” he bellowed.

Both Leon and Ashley turned to stare at him. He faltered for an instant, feeling his face heat up, before Leon started to laugh all over again, even more uproariously. Ashley seemed to take that as a cue to do the same. It was- nice. Now that he wasn’t fighting either of them, everything seemed so much lighter. Like things could be normal for him again. Another pipe dream at best.

Still, it was nice to simply sit there and enjoy the atmosphere. Only after what felt like an eternity of mirth did the laughter finally die down, giving way to sheer exhaustion. Ashley looked ready to fall dead asleep as she slumped into a back seat, and Leon didn’t seem far behind, even as he pushed himself to get them all somewhere safe.

“Let’s go home,” Leon said, settling back down and pressing down on the gas once more.

Krauser didn’t know about either of his companions in the boat, but he felt like he already was.

That feeling didn’t last very long.

They abandoned the boat back at the mainland docks, and Leon led the way to his extraction point. There, they were picked up by a helicopter to make the first leg of their journey, although the pilot wasn’t exactly happy about an unexpected third wheel.

“This ain’t in the plan,” the guy had said.

“Yeah, lots of things have happened the past couple days that weren’t planned, buddy,” Leon had snapped back. “But we’re taking him anyway.”

Leon pretty clearly outranked the guy, and he relented with no more resistance.

“Okay, but I gotta report it,” he said, shaking his head.

Krauser did his best to not think about the implications of that statement. They all strapped in and took off without a hitch, leaving Spain’s countryside far, far behind.

It was surprisingly serene in the helicopter cabin. The sound of the whirling blades muffled into white noise, producing a strangely calming atmosphere. Ashley had fallen asleep in her seat almost as soon as they’d taken off. Krauser didn't blame her, after all she'd been through. What he'd put her through.

Leon, however, seemed reluctant to nod off, much as his eyes drooped. He was sitting just one seat away from Krauser and, despite his mission being complete, could only be described as restless. Something on his mind, obviously enough. Krauser was in a similar boat.

“Krauser,” Leon finally piped up, just above a whisper.

Krauser hummed his acknowledgement, tilting his head to look at Leon.

"Will you cooperate?"

The question hit harder than Krauser wanted to admit. It had felt like back then for a while, like working together to bring Javier Hidalgo down.

He was too stunned to answer, and after a few moments Leon spoke again.

“Are you-” He hesitated, as though the right words were hard to come by. “- going to be missed?”

Krauser let out a scoff.

“By who? Wesker? Umbrella?” he glared at Leon. “Doubt it. Wesker’s probably rubbing his hands together right now, thinking about how this is all part of the plan.” Krauser let out a long breath, frowning deeper. “I was always supposed to die there, Leon. I was always the patsy.”

“Krauser…” Leon let his name hang in the air for far too longer than Krauser was comfortable with.

“Not even carrying anything valuable anymore,” Krauser continued, voice low. He’d moved his good hand up to his diaphragm, cradling where he knew the Plaga had been only hours ago. “I’m...”

He knew what he was. He was just as useless to Wesker now, as he once had been for his government. For Leon.

“Will you cooperate?” Leon repeated.

Krauser snapped his attention to Leon, only to find that same attention mirrored. Leon was watching him, studying him, his expression guarded.

“What, tell you all of Umbrella’s secrets?” Krauser leaned back with a huff, pushing his head against the metal until it hurt. He hadn’t thought about it. Hadn’t thought ahead at all. He’d just heard the sympathy in Leon’s voice, and he’d followed it. “Guess I’ll have to, huh?”

“Figure something out,” Leon said, mostly to himself. “All of it has to count for something, right?”

“Sure. Right.” Krauser had to force himself not to spit the words. “I’m sure they’ll throw me a welcome home party, just like they did when I came back with a gimp arm.”

Krauser didn’t miss the twitch on Leon’s face, the way his mouth pulled in a frown.

“Honorable discharge, right?”

“Yeah, sure,” Krauser grunted, staring at Leon for a long minute before shaking his head. "Much good that did. Might as well have died. Was nothing after that."

“Krauser-”

“You sure seemed to think so too,” Krauser said, lip twisting into a sour grimace. “After Javier.”

Never should have… Those words rung in Krauser’s mind again. Leon was probably right. They really never should have met. It might have saved them both a lot of pain.

Leon’s look of pity told him all he needed to know. The mission was over, just like back in South America, and with it, any pretense of comradery evaporated.

“I-” Leon said, before shutting his mouth again and working his jaw. “I didn’t mean to let it happen, I just-”

“Forgot about me,” Krauser finished for him.

Leon shot him a look that was far harder than Leon had ever given him before. Hell, even when they had fought.

“Right on the mark, huh?” Krauser growled, utterly miserable. “Got used to being the government’s golden boy agent?

Leon shifted, finally looking away.

"Yeah, that's right." Krauser ground his teeth against one another, somewhere between anger and hurt. “No time for a broken soldier?”

“I couldn’t face you.” Leon’s words were laced with pain that Krauser might have found satisfying just 24 hours ago. “Not after what happened, not with your arm-”

“I wasn’t good enough anymore?” Krauser broke in, feeling himself tense. Then, all at once the line of thought that had led him to Wesker in the first place flamed up in him, ugly and resentful. He should have known better at this point than to follow it, but -

“Goddammit, Leon, was I ever good enough for you?”

Leon finally looked at him again, but was silent.

“Yeah,” Krauser mumbled. “That’s what I thought.”

They’d been so busy arguing that Krauser hadn’t even realized they were descending, and both Krauser and Leon jerked awkwardly as the helicopter touched down.

“Krauser, I-” Leon tried again, but it was far too late.

“We’re touching down in five!” shouted the pilot, jerking Ashley awake. “Get ready to transfer, gotta be fast!”

With Ashley as a witness, Leon saw fit to say nothing more to Krauser. Probably for the best. They were both hurt well enough as things stood, and Krauser didn’t need more. They still had a long way to go after all.

Chapter Text

Almost nothing was said on the long, long plane ride across the Atlantic. Leon and Ashley both passed out not ten minutes after takeoff, and Krauser must have nodded off more than once himself. Now and then his eyes would open, and he’d glance out the window, finding either cloud cover, vast ocean, or finally, eerily familiar land. Land he’d never expected to set eyes on ever again. He felt strangely warm, looking down at patchwork farms and forests and towns. It was a feeling like coming home, even if Krauser knew that he didn’t belong anymore, if he ever had.

Krauser’s ears popped with the turbulence of losing altitude, something that had never happened when he’d had the Plaga. He worked his jaw, trying to resist the sensation as well as avoid thinking about what would happen when they finally arrived.

The turbulence was enough to wake both Leon and Ashley. The girl especially sat bolt upright in her seat, rearing to get home no doubt, probably straight to her bed.

Her dad was going to want Krauser to pay through his ass, and she probably did too. Krauser couldn’t blame either of them. He’d caused them a lot of grief.

Fittingly, Ashley was the first to stand and run for the door as soon as it was opened. She had to have been more than sick of being cooped up as a captive, and being near Krauser for that matter.

Leon, however, stayed behind and glanced at Krauser.

“You ready?” he asked, quiet and cautious.

Krauser just hummed. He’d never been ready for this, never planned for it at all, but there was no turning back now. He was liable to be shot on the spot as much as he was to be imprisoned, and, well, maybe a quick end would have been preferable.

With little other choice, Krauser stood up and followed Leon out to the landing strip. There, Ashley was already being hurried away by a group of men in suits and sunglasses while three others waited at the bottom for Leon and Krauser.

“Welcome back, Agent Kennedy,” the first of them said. “You’re expected to give a full report as soon as possible.

His gaze turned to Krauser.

“As for your companion, we’ll need to take him into custody.”

“No,” was Leon’s immediate response, putting himself between them and Krauser.

“Agent-” the guy started.

“Leon, it’s fine,” Krauser said, pushing his way forward. He’d already long-since come to terms with his fate.

Leon’s brow furrowed as Krauser submitted to their authority, but he didn’t protest.

“You’ll need to be restrained until further notice,” the first suit said before the second approached Krauser with handcuffs.

Krauser’s stomach dropped, but what could he do? He brought his arms behind his back as best he could, though the left didn’t want to cooperate. The second guy came up behind him and roughly jerked his left arm into place, drawing a wince from Krauser.

“Hey!”

Leon barked out the word, grabbing the attention of all the seemingly unflappable suits and Krauser himself. In another life, Leon must have been a drill sergeant.

“You take it easy on his left arm!” Leon continued, as serious as Krauser had heard him in his life. “If you so much as-”

“Agent, please,” the first guy broke in.

“It’s fine, Leon,” Krauser repeated. “I’ll be fine.”

Leon’s face fell and he looked less-than-convinced, but he didn’t make any moves to fight the guys. For once, he seemed to suppress his stubbornness.

Before he could say anything more, Krauser was already being carted off by two of the guys. He was forced to face away from Leon, and that must have been the only comfort he had.

Krauser was relieved of his knife, any guns, and his boots before being chauffeured straight to a rather forebodingly sterile concrete complex. High security, but Krauser’s estimate. Yeah, he wasn’t going anywhere.

He was shepherded through desolate, dark hallways, barely having time to process any of the twists and turns before he was dumped into an even darker interrogation room. His cuffs were detached from one of his wrists before one was reattached to a metal loop on the table at the center of the room. That was where he sat, for seconds, then minutes, then hours, for all Krauser knew. It was deathly quiet, with not so much as the ticking of a clock to keep him company. Really, Krauser didn’t mind terribly much. Solitude was a mercy for him, a respite from shame and hurt. He could have stayed there indefinitely, he was sure, if dehydration didn’t get to him.

Before that could happen though, another pair of men in suits opened the door. Krauser was fairly sure they weren’t the same ones from before, but who could really tell? They shut the door and immediately began their grilling of him for details. Although, there wasn’t really much grilling involved at all. Krauser answered every question truthfully, about approaching Wesker, being a test subject for Plagas experimentation, kidnapping the president’s daughter. It would have done him no good to be silent, not when he was just as likely to find himself locked up, if not dead, his existence buried.

“How many of these parasites does Albert Wesker have?” one of the suits asked,

“By now?” Krauser hummed, considering what he knew of their reproduction. “About a hundred passives, maybe five of the dominants. Depends on what Wong got off the island.”

“And what is his intent with those specimens?” he asked. “What are Umbrella’s long-term goals?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Krauser asked, shrugging. “Wesker’s all about culling the weak on a genetic level. Or, if not culling, controlling. If you can handle a dominant Plaga, you can handle directing the weak.” Krauser huffed. “Of course, you won’t even get the chance if Wesker thinks you’re unsuited. Or, worse, a nuisance.”

Krauser was definitely on Wesker’s nuisance list by now. Although, without the Plaga, he doubted that Wesker would go out of his way to end Krauser. No point.

The questioning droned on and on, covering every possible angle through which Umbrella’s operations and plans could be seen. He heard questions about Javier that he’d been asked just two years ago. Questions about his supposed death. Damn government and their procedures. He’d have rather just been locked up right away.

It wasn’t long before Krauser got that wish granted. They detached him from the table and herded him out of the room and down even more winding hallways. He couldn’t be sure, but he got the feeling that he was in the heart of the facility

They led him to a massive steel door and opened it up just to push him inside. They took off his cuffs and shuffled out of the room, shutting the door behind him. As the locks clicked into place, Krauser was allowed to get acquainted with his accommodations. He had four concrete walls, a stiff metal cot with minimal bedding on top, a metal toilet in a corner with a sink next to it, and a small table with an attached chair. Krauser recognized it for what it was: solitary confinement.

He wasn’t terribly surprised, but that didn’t make it much better. Krauser meandered over to the cot and sat down. He glanced down at himself and realized that, this whole time, he still hadn’t put on a shirt. Of course he hadn’t, when would he have? His weapons were taken, but no one gave him a shirt. Figures. At least it wasn’t cold.

Krauser let out a long sigh. So this was his fate after all; being trapped in a cage without so much as a rigged trial. He supposed he didn’t even deserve that after what he’d done. Again he wondered if it would have been best for him to die on the island.

Even if he hadn’t died, Krauser couldn’t help but wonder if helping Leon was a mistake after all. If he’d stayed away and gotten off that miserable island by himself, he’d have still had his Plaga and his freedom. But then, if he’d come crawling back to Wesker after failing his mission, Krauser may as well have died. Even with the worm, Krauser still hadn’t been good enough.

At least in helping Leon, Krauser had succeeded at something. He’d done a favor for an old friend. If the government decided he was too much of a liability to stay breathing then at least Krauser could find some peace in that.

An old friend. Was that who Leon was to him? Was that enough to have spurred Krauser on to do what he did? Not just on the island in Spain, but in going to Wesker in the first place. He’d wanted so badly to show Leon up, to prove to him that he wasn’t useless after Javier. That he was better than Leon. That he was worth Leon’s attention.

It was a stupid and, as it turned out, impossible goal. Leon was better than him; that was just the fact of the matter, as much as it twisted up Krauser’s insides. Lots of government types were better than Krauser, but Leon was different, somehow. For a long time, Krauser couldn’t put his finger on exactly why, but he thought he had an idea as he sat there, stewing in self-pity. One born from all the regret that Leon had shown back on the island.

Regret. What could Leon have possibly regretted? It wasn’t his arm that had been crippled, and he wasn’t the one who’d gone to Umbrella for a quick fix. He hadn’t had to deal with Krauser after Javier. What did he even care?

It wasn’t a fair question, not after all Leon had done to get him off the island safely. Krauser should have been grateful, but at the same time, he couldn’t help but think that he was just another victim of Leon’s savior complex. Just another Manuela.

Krauser grimaced at that thought. It made a bit too much sense, especially after Krauser’s Plaga was removed. Goddamn kid.

Again Krauser sighed before he moved to lay down on the bed. It was hard and unforgiving, but Krauser had slept on worse in the recent past. Even with his restless mind and the light in the room still on, Krauser knew that he needed sleep. Already as he laid down, he felt his body relax and prepare to do as much. It was the first time he’d laid down to do so since he’d arrived on the island. He found himself giving a weak chuckle at how long ago that felt now, as though years had passed in less than a day. Time was a strange, strange thing.

If Krauser had dreams, he barely remembered them, at least, not as dreams. They had more in common with memories.

His arm hurt, he knew that much. It was pierced straight through, ripping the muscle to shreds.

“Krauser,” he heard a voice say, though, it was as though they were both underwater. “Krauser, come back, please, please…”

The voice seemed to drift further and further away, and Krauser let it happen. He was in too much pain, too much anger, too much sadness, and he felt himself retreating further without his feet so much as moving. He didn’t want Leon to see him like this.

Leon.

It was Leon calling to him. The only one who ever would have. He needed to follow his voice, needed to…

Krauser woke with a start. He was back in the concrete prison, although he'd never left in reality. An ache had settled in his left shoulder, and Krauser gritted his teeth as he shifted the joint, trying to work it out.

He had no idea how long he’d slept, but he felt better at least, in that he was no longer on the verge of collapse at any given moment. Krauser sat up and found his eyes caught on the door. A tray of food had been left, pushed through a metal slat that opened on the outside. Well, at least they didn’t intend to starve him. Yet.

Krauser picked it up and brought it over to his table. This meal might have been sadder than anything he’d ever eaten out of an MRE. It included a sandwich with a mysterious lunch meat that might have been bologna or turkey, a bruised orange on the side, and a pint worth of water in a plastic cup. High class service.

Like a good soldier, Krauser slowly-but-surely ate what he was given. His gimp arm was still uncooperative, but he wasn’t as shaky as he’d been with the initial injury. The food was tasteless and dry, but he’d eaten worse and it would keep him alive. That was good enough for Krauser. And at least when he was eating, he didn’t have to think for a short while.

Too short, as it turned out. Krauser slid the tray back against the slot it had come from, only to find his mind wandering away from his cell.

With nothing else to do, Krauser stood up. He began to pace back and forth, from one concrete wall to another, his only company the sound of his footsteps.

And so time crawled on, near-imperceptibly to Krauser. Meals came and went, each as bland as the last. Living could hardly be called that anymore. It was like being stuck in purgatory, a worse punishment than Hell could ever hope to be.

Meals were his only marker of time. He was fairly certain that he was given three a day, with a long break between dinner and breakfast. The lights dimmed during that break, but they never fully switched off. There had to have been cameras somewhere, maybe within the light source itself, but Krauser could never see it.

He wasn't sure if he was going insane or not as the days dragged on. Pain came and went, both in his arm and his heart. Everything was cyclical.

Krauser took it upon himself to exercise, despite the pain. His bad arm couldn't take much, but he could do a good forty sit-ups and leg lifts. It made the lack of a shirt much more tolerable.

Although, he didn’t need to tolerate it in perpetuity.

When something finally broke that cycle, Krauser wasn't sure he entirely comprehended it. It felt like a dream when he heard the locks unlatch, and two guys came shuffling in. They cuffed him and pushed him out, just like when he’d first been taken here.

At least the walk was a lot shorter this time. He was led into a cramped linoleum tile covered room with a shower head out of reach and a drain with a plastic guard covering it. He wondered if that was to prevent drug smuggling or just prisoners trying to use the little holes to cut themselves.

Either way, the door was shut behind him once again. Krauser glanced back to find a similarly cramped cubby area with some folded clothes and a towel inside of it. His new uniform, no doubt. Krauser stripped out of his cargoes and tossed them next to the cubby before approaching the shower. No knobs to turn it on, but he hadn’t really expected there to be. The only thing hanging on the wall was a soap dispenser, covered in a sturdy plastic guard similar to the one over the drain. There had to be some twisted sons of bitches being held within these walls.

That category included him now, it seemed.

All at once, the water burst on, and Krauser hissed as he was hit with the chilly spray. He should have been used to this kind of sensation after his military days, but cold was cold. Still, he leaned into it instead of avoiding it, and pumped some soap out to start washing up.

He started with his face and hair, finding that his skin almost tingled as sweat and grime fell away with the soap. It had been a good while since he’d last had a proper shower. It had to have been before he’d even arrived in Spain. All throughout his time with Leon.

Damn kid. Worming his way into Krauser’s head.

He made a point to wash himself quickly from then on. He had no idea how long the water would last, but it was likely assumed that he did, given the short notice nature of his incarceration. He was sure he’d have to get used to the schedule they wanted him on, for as much “free” time as he had.

Bathing was something of a chore with one of his arms at less-than-full strength, but Krauser got by just fine. He had to admit that it was really nice to get clean after such a long stretch.

As his shower went on, Krauser found himself thinking that the water time was rather generous, but then, he supposed that the facility didn’t need excess soap all over the place.

Once he was all soaped down, Krauser simply stood and enjoyed the sensation of water rippling down on him. It had long since gone from chilly to pleasantly lukewarm, the way Krauser had liked it in the army. He leaned up against the wall and shut his eyes. Those were different days for him, very different. He’d had friends then, brothers even, but he’d given that all up when he’d been sent down to South America. He’d given up a lot, but gotten Leon in return.

Maybe that was why he’d blamed Leon so harshly.

All at once, the water slammed off, the shower head dripping for just a moment before the flow was gone entirely. There was his cue to dry himself off.

Krauser trudged over to the cubby and picked up the towel, ruffling it first over his head and then down the rest of his body.

He came to the clothes then, and as he picked them up, he found that they were, in fact, all one piece. A bland, gray coverall that, as it unfurled, Krauser wondered if it would even fit him. He pulled it on and found that it went over his legs well enough, but, as he moved to zip it up, the zipper protested. Krauser’s body did too, really, but he was used to somewhat tight clothing. Ultimately, the zipper complied.

Bathed and clothed, Krauser had nothing left to do but wait.

Fortunately, it wasn’t long before his jailers returned. The door opened, the cuffs went on, and off they went, straight back to Krauser’s little cell. The locks turned back into their places, and there Krauser stayed.

And stay he did. It wasn’t as though he had a choice, but, every now and then, Krauser felt a tug, like he was meant to be somewhere else.

Clearly that wasn’t the case, as meals came and went, and the lights dimmed and brightened. Sometimes Krauser sat, sometimes he paced, sometimes he just laid on the bed for what felt like hours on end. At one point, he tried to keep track of the exact intervals between meal times, but with no reference points and no way to mark anything down, he soon lost track.

It wasn’t so much the isolation that bothered Krauser as much as the sheer, unadulterated boredom. He had nothing and no one to occupy him, only his anxious mind for company. He’d have taken a Bible, for God’s sake, anything to keep his mind even slightly busy.

Those moments of abject boredom had him thinking of Leon most of all. With Leon back in his life, things had at least been exciting for a little while. Fighting the bad guys, just like old times.

Old times. Krauser scoffed. Insanity was what it was, like he could somehow turn the dial back on all the horrible things he had done.

Fighting Leon in the warehouse, where he’d had it in his mind that he wouldn’t even need a full-on transformation of his arm to beat Leon. In retrospect, Krauser didn’t know why he’d thought he could. It should have been obvious from the start that he’d never had a chance. So why had he done it at all?

Anger. Bitterness. Vengeance. All reasons, but not good ones. Profoundly stupid ones, looking back. He’d like to have said that realizing their stupidity was the reason why he’d had a change of heart, but that wouldn’t have been entirely true. No, it was something else. Something very deep within Krauser, so deep that he hardly knew it existed. Hardly wanted to know it existed.

It was like the thought of Leon drove him to some strange madness, a madness that only seemed to have grown out of control.

But there was always some reason in madness.

Krauser chuckled as the quote entered his mind. It wasn’t the full quote, Krauser knew in the back of his mind. He hadn’t read Nietzsche in a long, long time, but the guy’s words still found their way into his thought process. It was insane, categorically so, the way Krauser had held such a grudge against Leon, only to join him in the end. Nothing about his actions made sense, but that something inside him had made them happen anyway.

Krauser dumped down on his bed. Nothing made any sense in this place at all. He’d expected Leon to return for him, if only just to check up on him, but so far there had been nothing.

Leon really must have wanted him gone after all. All that posturing and still Krauser sat in this concrete Hell. Why in God’s name had he turned his back on Wesker? He’d still be out there if he hadn’t. He’d still be able to hunt Leon down and-

He couldn’t forget the way Leon had looked at him back on the island. The way he’d trusted Krauser. No matter how long Krauser rotted in this cell, he didn’t think he’d ever forget.

But there was always some reason in -

Krauser wasn’t so sure anymore. Now that the worm was gone, his arm was aching, but not even the pain could distract him from the mind numbing boredom. He paced, mulling over the quote, wondering why, why would he continue?

Leon. The answer was simple and painful. Always Leon.

Everything he’d done these past two years, every little decision, it was all for Leon. Always. The thought of Leon had driven him to do truly terrible things, and he’d thought it was for hate, but now it seemed obvious that that had never been the entire truth.

Madness. It had its reasons.

Krauser forced himself onto his side to face the wall, gritting his teeth as his face scrunched up. He’d lost any chance he had to be truthful with Leon, and now he was locked up and alone.

Worst of all, Krauser knew he deserved it. He had no business feeling sorry for himself, not the terrible things he’d done. He had brought this fate on himself by going to Wesker looking for power instead of going to Leon and -

Krauser’s stomach turned. It dawned on him that he’d never be able to come to terms with how he felt about Leon in this place.

It was all a good thing, he told himself. Leon deserved so much better.

Chapter Text

Krauser must have fallen asleep like that. When it had happened was anyone’s guess, but sooner than he’d have liked, he was stirred by the sound of the door’s locks clicking.

In a half daze he stood up, realizing it had to be his allotted shower time. He stood quietly, ready to be restrained and led off to parts unknown.

Unlike the past several times, however, the door was allowed to swing wide open. It felt like a dream, like Krauser was being given a fleeting glimpse of freedom that would soon be snatched away from him by the waking world.

He winced against the light that suddenly poured into his cell. Had the hallway always been that bright? He didn’t think so, but maybe he really was losing it. Despite the strangeness, Krauser held out his hands to prepare for being cuffed.

Yet the handcuffs never came. Krauser blinked a few times as the figures in front of him turned into silhouettes, then into focus, then-

Leon. He was face-to-face with Leon. His arms dropped to his sides and he reasoned that it must be a dream. He blinked a few more times, expecting Leon’s form to dissipate, but it never happened.

There was someone else with him, a suit, but Krauser didn’t truly see him in that instant. The only thing his perception saw was Leon. Leon, cleaned up and trimmed and looking back at him with unreadable eyes.

That instant seemed to last forever, some silent exchange passing between them. Leon’s face was as astonished as Krauser felt, as though he couldn’t believe that Krauser had been here all along, waiting.

All at once, Leon stepped up to him and started in on a barrage of words. Questions, Krauser was sure. Was he hurt, how was he treated, who did he have to get fired. Krauser didn’t hear much of it, as though his brain was still processing the very idea of being talked to instead of just about.

After a moment, Leon stopped talking and just looked up at Krauser, expecting some kind of answer. Krauser wished he could give him a proper one, but he could only find one word.

“Hey,” he said, offering a shaky, shell-shocked smile.

Leon looked at him for another long moment before he started to smile too. He let out a laugh and put a hand on Krauser’s shoulder to steady himself. It felt like Krauser had never been caged at all; they were just together like they’d been before, on the island and during Javier. Everything seemed alright in that moment.

Then, all at once, their little moment was interrupted as the guy who had come with Leon spoke up. As Krauser got a good look at him, he realized that he’d been the same one who had met them when they’d touched down.

“Agent Kennedy, he is considered at least a level three threat, despite his pardon,” the suit said, clearly thinking that this was far below his pay grade.

“Stuff it, Leroy,” Leon snapped back at the guy.

Obviously, there had been some drama in Krauser’s absence. He’d have to squeeze Leon for details with whatever time they had.

“Come on, Krauser, let’s get you out of here,” Leon said, tugging at the arm.

Krauser almost wanted to ask exactly what Leon meant by that, but found himself unable to do so. After so much time being guided and pushed along to his destinations without a word being exchanged, he was used to the silence. Although, more than that, Krauser really didn’t want to hear that he had to stay in this place for any longer.

It was something of a challenge, following Leon out of his cell. Leon led him to the threshold, only for Krauser to hesitate, wondering if this was all some elaborate ruse or if he was simply dreaming. Leon wasn’t that cruel. Was he? Krauser wasn’t sure anymore. Too much time confined, too much silence, too much…

“Krauser,” Leon said, the gentlest Krauser had ever heard his name pronounced.

Krauser didn’t reply. It felt odd, being invited out of his solitude. Shameful even, like he was no longer worth confining. Maybe it was better for him to stay, better for the rest of the world and for-

“Jack,” Leon spoke again.

So, he took a step over the threshold, cautious, like he might trigger something terrible. Nothing happened. He felt no different. Just as strange as ever.

It was easy from then on. The suit - Leroy - took the lead as they navigated out of the labyrinth of a facility, in all its concrete glory. It was a slower walk than when Krauser had first been pushed and forced in, allowing him to see more detail. The further out they got, the sleeker it became, more polished stone and brick for the folks who weren’t forced to be there.

Towards the end, Krauser was allowed to use one of the employee washrooms to change out of the uniform and into something less conspicuous. A simple t-shirt and sweatpants, large, but still a bit tight on Krauser’s frame. Really, Krauser was more jarred by the sheer normality of the getup than its size. He couldn’t remember wearing something so civilian for a long, long while.

Leon didn’t seem to either, if his wide eyes as Krauser came back out were anything to go by. He collected himself almost immediately, and cleared his throat as he picked up a set of handcuffs from his belt.

“Sorry about this,” Leon said, sheepishly reaching for Krauser’s wrists. “Part of the deal.”

Krauser huffed. Of course Leon would weasel his way into some kind of agreement to get him out of maximum security. Krauser just sighed and held his wrists out, allowing Leon to get it over with. He knew he didn’t have any business feeling whatever it was he was feeling, not when he was obviously being let off lightly. Besides that, Leon took great care in making sure his left arm was in a comfortable position.

The kid was too damn good to him. Krauser had never understood why.

From there, they were both led out to a waiting car. Krauser slid in next to Leon while Leroy took up chauffeur duties.

Things remained silent for a long stretch in the car. It was a naturally awkward situation they’d all found themselves in. Krauser didn’t want to be the one to break the silence, but he also had no idea where they were going, or even how long it had been.

When he finally got up the will to speak, he only managed one word.

“Leon,” he said, as though speaking was taboo. Maybe it even was.

Leon jumped in his seat before composing himself and looking at Krauser.

“Yeah?” he said.

“How long’s it been?” he asked. “Since we touched down. Here.”

“A little less than a month,” Leon told him, frowning. “Feels like longer.”

“Yeah,” Krauser agreed. “A lot longer.”

“I’m sorry,” Leon said, wincing. “If I could have gotten you out sooner, I would have.”

Somehow, Krauser believed him, even as something twitched inside him, saying not to take Leon’s word.

“What’s been happening?”

“Bureaucracy,” Leon sighed. “I had to lobby with a lot of people, the president included, to get you out.”

“The president?” Krauser chuffed. “Can’t imagine he was all too eager to let me go so easily.”

“You’re not being ‘let go’,” Leroy spoke up, rigid as ever. “Agent Kennedy has volunteered to monitor you while on house arrest.”

“Huh.” Krauser couldn’t help but give a dry half-smile. “I’m grounded then. Where at?”

“My place,” Leon answered, speaking so quickly Krauser barely caught what he had just said.

Krauser raised an eyebrow at Leon.

“You should really thank Ashley,” Leon said, pivoting to a different topic. “She went to bat for you, and she didn’t have to.”

Krauser chuckled humorlessly. “You can thank her,” he said. “If you want. Doubt they’ll let me within a mile of her.”

Leon frowned, but he didn’t deny it. Yeah, the president obviously wasn’t his biggest fan.

“It’s- nice to see you again,” Leon continued despite Krauser’s words. “Thank you. For what you did.”

Krauser wanted to make some snide remark, about how he’d done a lot of things in Spain, most of them terrible.

“You’re welcome,” he said instead. “It’s nice to see you too. For what that’s worth.”

Leon looked at him for a long moment, face unreadable. His lips tightened and he seemed to almost want to say something more, but he refrained. Probably for the best.

It had to have been some hours before the car finally came to its destination. They’d gone across highways and towns and maybe even crossed state borders before stopping in front of a non-descript little house at the edge of a similarly non-descript not-quite-rural, not-quite-suburban town.

So, this was the new prison. Leon’s home. Not exactly what he’d expected, but that seemed to be the new normal.

“We’ll be keeping an eye on you,” Leroy said, as flat and ominous as he could surely manage.

Krauser wasn’t sure which one of them he was talking to, but it hardly mattered. A moment later, he unlocked the door on Leon’s side, allowing him to step out before Krauser.

Krauser might have been offended, but he doubted he could have opened the door on his side anyway. He slid out after Leon with as much dignity as he could manage.

As he stepped onto the sidewalk, Krauser got a very clear view of Leon’s place. Even from the outside, it was exactly the kind of neglected bachelor pad Krauser could have expected. Overgrown grass and bushes, peeling paint, lawn chairs around a grill that clearly hadn’t been touched in months if not longer.

Yeah, it was exactly what he’d expect of Leon.

The car was already pulling away as Leon led him to the front door. It occurred to Krauser that he could run now, if he’d wanted to. Get away, melt into the crowd, maybe even find his way back to Wesker. He didn’t, following Leon inside instead.

The place had a single main room, with a kitchen at the front and a small living space farther back, only separated by a half-wall. A couple rooms branched off on the left, while windows stretched across the right wall, giving a view into the neglected yard.

“Guess you’ll be my jailer then,” Krauser said as he glanced around, almost conversational.

“If that’s how you want to see it.” Leon shrugged and glanced around at the room. “At least it’s a nicer jail than the one you were in.”

“Debatable.”

Leon huffed, but with no bitterness. “Well, you can shower whenever you want,” he offered. “And read a book or something.”

“You own books?”

Leon pouted at that, and Krauser suspected that he was being mean.

“Well, whatever you think I have, what’s mine is yours,” Leon said, scratching the back of his neck. “Probably need to get groceries actually. If you find milk, don’t drink it.”

Krauser just shook his head. He was a bit amazed that Leon had a house at all, rather than a cheap little apartment. Either way, he could entirely believe that the kid would leave milk to become yogurt, but that wasn’t a conversation he was interested in.

“You know how bad it would be if I was just using you to get out of high security and make a break for it as soon as your back is turned-” He glanced at the door out before side-eying Leon. “- right?”

“You’re not gonna do that,” Leon said, like he was just stating a fact.

Krauser couldn’t help but be annoyed. Leon saw far too much good in people, that much was obvious. Even more infuriating was that he was right, at least about Krauser. There was no ingenious quadruple deception masterminded by Krauser’s former superiors. There was just Krauser, making things up as he went along.

Following his heart, some shriveled, neglected corner of Krauser’s mind supplied.

“Thanks,” Krauser mumbled. “For getting me out of there.”

Again, Leon gave him a stare of complete bewilderment, the corners of his mouth twitching like he wanted to smile.

“Sure. Any time,” he said.

It scared Krauser a little that he entirely believed that Leon would have busted him out of jail any time, through legitimate means or otherwise. Crazy kid.

“So, that’s the guest room,” Leon continued, gesturing at the first door on the left. “It’s a shared bathroom between that and my room, if you’re wondering.”

Krauser wasn’t especially.

“I’ll get you sheets and stuff, I guess.”

Leon did as much, turning his back to Krauser and heading into his own room. Krauser was a little surprised to be left to his own devices so soon, but it was becoming increasingly clear that Leon truly did trust in Krauser’s good intentions. He’d taken him back from Spain, advocated for him to be released, and now invited him into his home. None of it felt real at all.

Krauser meandered into the living space, his eyes wandering from the loveseat that appeared entirely unused, to the boxy, dust-topped television. Clearly Leon was just too busy for things like lounging and entertainment. A neglected coffee table sat in front of the loveseat, but more interesting was the side table. Not only was a dusty lamp sitting on top of it, but also a picture frame, the only personal effect Krauser had seen so far.

He walked over to it, slow and careful like it might get up and run away from him. He picked the frame up and inspected it, finding a photo of Leon and two others he didn’t recognize, a man and woman. His heart dropped and his muscles tensed. They looked like siblings, both with strikingly similar brown hair and blue eyes. Leon was giving one of his wide, genuine smiles between them, while they were more subdued. Leon had his arms over both of their necks, touching them.

Which one was he seeing? his mind asked before he could stop it.

He clenched his teeth and set the picture back down, just the way he’d found. Albeit, maybe not exactly, given the fine layer of dust. He clenched a fist before turning away from it.

By the time he did, Leon was stepping out of the guest room.

“Making yourself at home?” he asked, chipper as ever.

“Yeah,” Krauser replied, keeping a tight lid on whatever it was he was feeling.

Leon raised his brow, but didn’t verbally question him.

“You’ll have plenty of time to settle in,” he said, clearing his throat. “I want you to be comfortable.”

Krauser wasn’t sure if that was possible, but he appreciated the thought.

“I, uh, got you some sheets,” Leon said, gesturing to the guest room. “They’re not the best, but I can always get you different ones later.”

Somehow, Krauser figured that the sheets wouldn’t be half as scratchy as army cots.

“It’s fine,” he said.

Krauser pushed past him and into his room, only stopping to shut the door behind him. He made his way over to the bed where sheets were laying on top and started to lay them all out.

It took a long moment before he really saw his surroundings as his temper cooled. There really wasn’t much to see anyway, just a side table with a lamp matching the one in the living room and a wardrobe that took up nearly half the room. He could certainly keep plenty of identical shirts and tacticals in there.

Krauser chuckled to himself for an instant before his mind fell back on the picture. That damn picture, raising so many questions that Krauser wasn’t willing to follow up on. It would have been easier to just ask, but he was afraid of the answers he might get.

It occurred to him that the bed would barely fit him. At least he’d have some level of privacy, except for the damn shared bathroom. That could get awkward.

Krauser laid down on the bed, finding that, just as expected, it only barely held his frame. He sighed and stared up at the peeling plaster ceiling with cobwebs hanging from the corners. He still struggled to believe that he was really there, his Plaga removed, back in his home country, in Leon’s home.

He expected to wake up at any second from this, for everything to have been a dream, but it never seemed to happen. Instead his thoughts and memories all swirled in his head, all the time in the prison seeming like a dream to its own now that it was behind him. Compared to that hard cot, the one he was laying on was like a cloud. So much so that he found his eyes shutting, even with glimmers of sun still filtering through the shaded windows.

When next he opened them, or thought he did, it was dark all around him. His head was still foggy, and it seemed to him that he was back in prison and in Spain all at once, sleeping in a little hovel. He blinked through the darkness, into his cramped confines, ready to fight or fall back asleep.

He wasn’t alone, he knew that almost immediately. It took him a moment, but he pinpointed a guy standing to his front left. Blond, kinda slight, just barely a silhouette.

“Leon?” he heard himself croak.

The figure turned to look at him. It was Leon alright. He knew it in his gut.

“I-” He tried, so many words floating in his dulled consciousness. So many memories. “I shouldn’t-.”

The figure didn’t move, just kept looking at him. A ghost if Krauser had ever seen one; a man who had haunted him for so long.

“I wish- I wish that I’d tried harder,” he said, throat dry and voice crackly. “I never wanted things to go so far, with Wesker, the damn worm. I just wanted my arm back. Wanted to be useful again. Wanted…”

He trailed off, entirely unsure of what he meant.

“Jack.”

The word caught Krauser entirely off-guard. His heart jolted as he questioned exactly what he was looking at.

"It's okay, Jack. Go back to sleep," it said, whatever it was.

Krauser blinked, slow and sleepy. He figured his subconscious was as good a source as any for orders. Krauser took a breath and leaned back down onto his cot. Sleep would be a much appreciated relief.

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.

Chapter Text

Krauser allowed himself to rest as he waited for the right time to leave. He didn’t leave the room even as he heard clattering in the kitchen. Leon didn’t call him out even as meal times came and went, so Krauser stayed.

He stayed as he heard water running and dishes being put in the sink, he stayed as he heard the TV flicker on then out some time later, and he stayed as he heard Leon’s door close and the shower flip on. If being in the military had taught him one thing, it had to have been patience. The difference between bagging a mark and missing completely was often just a split second of focus. He had to pick his time to move and he had to pick right.

The sun had long since gone down, leaving Krauser in near total darkness. The bathroom was the only source of light left, just barely filtering out of the door’s threshold. Aside from that, all he had for reference was sound, or a lack of it. He was waiting for the sounds to stop, the ones that meant Leon was still stirring at least. Maybe Leon snored, maybe he didn’t, either way Krauser could only really trust a prolonged silence, if even that.

The light flicked off, but it wasn’t enough on its own. Krauser continued to wait. Seconds passed, then minutes, then maybe even hours. Finally Krauser stood up from his bed and wandered over to the window. The moon was high in a cloudless sky, providing enough light to see and plenty of darkness to hide within. He listened intently, but heard no movement from the other bedroom. Now. The moment was now or never.

Krauser pushed his door open gingerly and shut it behind him with equal care. Stepping into the kitchen, he found it unchanged except for a frying pan that had been placed in the sink.

Next he paced over to the front door, placing his weight carefully with each step. Drawing in a deep breath he gripped the door’s handle and gently pushed it to test any noise. It gave nothing but a small creak of protest, one that shouldn’t have reached Leon’s room. He pressed harder and it made no greater sound, so he pushed it open with no further hesitation.

Still no lock, Krauser noted. Not even an attempt to keep him inside.

He resolved to not think about it and pushed his way outside before closing the door behind him. Time to finally forget Leon for good and go- well, he wasn’t sure where he’d go, but he couldn’t stay there.

Krauser made his way down the stairs and started across the lawn, watching where he stepped for fear of stray objects. Stealth training came in handy, even away from the field. Watch his breathing, watch his feet, watch the-

“So.”

Krauser stopped mid-step. The word was dissident, entirely out of place in the darkness, and he whipped his head to look in its direction.

Sitting there, barely visible on a lawn chair, was Leon. His shape grew more clear the longer Krauser looked at him, his hunched posture and his hands clasped together.

Krauser’s first instinct was apprehension; it had all been a trap after all, and now he’d been caught trying to escape. He was half-inclined to keep going, seeing as Leon was going to report him as having escaped one way or another.

The longer he stood there though, the clearer Leon’s expression was. He was frowning, barely looking at Krauser, forlorn or even-

“So,” Leon repeated, the melancholy in the word more clear this time. “You’re leaving already, huh?”

Krauser wasn’t sure what to say.

“I guess I just thought-” Leon continued before shaking his head. “Doesn’t matter what I thought. I get it.”

Krauser frowned, unsure what to say, but Leon just continued.

“I took something important away from you. And now I’ve done it again.”

“My arm,” Krauser said simply.

Leon winced, a clear affirmation. He stood up, forcing himself to look Krauser in the eye.

“I get why you wouldn’t want to stay. I just-” He shook his head, seeming to reconsider his words. “I know I don’t have a right to it, but I wanted to say good-bye this time.”

That was- Krauser was stunned by that, on a number of levels. He couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, he just stood there, staring.

Leon just walked up to him, lips pursed.

“So. Good-bye,” he said.

He stared at Krauser as though he expected some sort of reply, or even for him to just leave, but Krauser did neither.

Leon took another deep breath before tearing his eyes away and heading up the stairs. Krauser watched as he stepped in and shut the door until it clicked. Once again, he was alone in the darkness, his entire attempt at stealth rendered pointless.

His mind was still reeling, unable to form much of a cogent thought, but his body seemed to return to its previous task. Krauser continued making his way across the yard, still careful of where he stepped, though not as focused.

Leon’s words kept replaying in his head, over and over. I guess I just thought… Another incomplete thought Leon had left him with, just like the last. This one, though, left him with more confusion than animosity. What did Leon think?

Why was Krauser so damn allergic to just asking? He’d had every opportunity to ask, but no, he just couldn’t do that. It was almost easier being in prison, where he’d had no contact at all. This was worse than torture.

He supposed that Leon letting him go like this at least showed he was no Manuela. He wasn’t merely a broken, helpless thing that Leon needed to protect and smother. Leon had just- let him go, with a simple good-bye. No hand wringing about if he’d be okay, not a word about the government hunting him, and certainly nothing about how this would affect Leon’s standing.

Just let him go. Crazy damn kid.

Krauser hesitated at the edge of the lawn, staring down at the void of gravel that stretched out in front of him. The grass was dark and overgrown, but not half as dark as the world beyond.

Some part of him wanted to take the step, but another part refused point blank. He half-wished that Leon hadn’t gotten him out of prison. He’d thought he’d been going insane there, but being around the kid seemed to drive him even more to the edge of madness.

Always some reason in madness.

Hadn’t he already been through this? Already decided that he was bad for Leon and they were better apart? He’d done everything for Leon’s sake, and this was just one more thing, one last thing. Leon was even letting it happen, so surely he didn’t need Krauser. He’d apologized and let him go on his way. He’d put anything he had to say aside and let him go, even if Krauser wanted him to beg him to stay.

Leon thought that Krauser hated him, that he wanted to be as far away from Leon as possible. Krauser didn’t want that. No, he-

There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness.

The full quote hit Krauser like a truck. He felt cold and hot and exposed in a way he realized then that he’d been avoiding this entire time. He was hit with the urge to run for cover, but there wasn’t anywhere to hide, not even in the shadows of the night. All he could do was stand there and feel what he was feeling, as much as he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to, but he knew that he had to.

Krauser had refused to ask so many questions, but maybe he’d just been afraid of getting an answer he didn’t want. Maybe- maybe Leon was too.

Shit.

Chapter Text

With one final blast of Leon's magnum, Krauser lurched before collapsing to the ground.

Leon had survived, he'd won, despite Krauser's Plaga-enhanced strength. Despite the twisted reformation he'd made his crippled arm into.

But it didn't feel like a victory. Not even a little.

Leon cautiously stepped up to Krauser, half-expecting him to spring back to life just to keep the fight going. But he never did, instead remaining still and lifeless

“What happened, Jack?” he asked, knowing full well that he’d get no answer. “You used to be a good guy…”

His mind took him back to Javier, to the man who he’d fought alongside, shared victories with, formed an unspoken bond with. Leon’s chest ached as he realized just how long ago it seemed, and how many regrets he’d had in its wake.

He took one long, last look at Krauser's body, face down in the dirt. He didn't want to remember Krauser like this, so far from the man he'd met during Javier, but he didn't want to leave either. Even now, it seemed so wrong to just leave him. He'd given up so much, lost so much, and to let him rot on this island felt like a strange kind of abandonment.

Like it was all Leon's fault.

With a long breath, Leon tore his eyes away, knowing it was the last he’d ever see of him.

Leon didn’t sleep well that night, if he slept much at all. It must have already been three in the morning when he finally managed to conk out, and it hadn’t been very restful sleep either. Dreams plagued him, endless running, chasing and being chased back and forth, over and over and over. He stirred awake every now and then, sweating even with all his sheets kicked down to the foot of the bed.

Even when morning light filtered in through his window, Leon just turned over and used a pillow to shield himself. He was off-duty, at least for a while, and he was damn well going to take advantage.

As much as he craved the extra sleep, his dreams kept it from being anything but a false respite. Leon had dreamed of Spain in the past weeks, but somehow those were never as disruptive. He was confident in those, but here he was just uncertain.

It was only when midday sun pounded its way into Leon’s room that he finally got sick of that game.

He forced himself up, blinking rapidly to clear his eyes. It was about time he made himself some breakfast, or maybe it was lunch by now. Either way, he wanted some buttered toast.

Leon didn’t bother to get dressed, just wandered over to his door in his boxers and pulled it open. He yawned as he stepped out into the living room before heading toward the kitchen, his eyes still bleary, but functional enough.

All at once, he stopped in his tracks as his body went stiff. He whipped his head over to look at his couch where- where…

Leon’s mouth opened slightly as he searched for words or thoughts or anything. There on his couch was Krauser, looking right back at him, just as silent. His expression was as stoically reserved as ever, but Leon had been around him long enough to read his tiny subtleties. His mouth was tighter than usual, his brow furrowed, but his eyes soft. Guilt. Immediate, prescient guilt.

As usual, Leon wanted to ask him about it, wanted to push Krauser out of the shadows, but he couldn’t quite find the right words. Instead, he settled for the basics.

“Morning,” Leon finally managed, only to realize immediately that it was a silly thing to say. “Well, afternoon I guess.”

“Yeah,” Krauser said, voice tight. “Afternoon.”

“Didn’t sleep well?” Leon asked, as though he hadn’t slept any worse.

“Not really.”

Leon entirely expected that to be all he’d get from Krauser, only for him to continue.

“It’s strange,” he said, shaking his head. “Being here. Being away from the fight. Being…”

Krauser trailed off, leaving even more words unsaid.

“Being-?” Leon tried, hoping to nudge Krauser into speaking his mind.

Krauser was silent for a long while, and Leon half-hoped that he was considering finishing his thought, that he’d-

“You want food?” Krauser asked instead.

Leon chuckled, not sure what else he expected.

“Yeah, let’s have food.”

He turned to head into the kitchen only for Krauser to speak again.

"Go get dressed, kid," he said, standing from his seat. "I'll start. You want eggs? Toast?"

Leon shook his head. "What, you turn into a prude when I take my shirt off?"

Krauser was deathly quiet at that, his expression only tightening more.

"Eggs and toast would be great," Leon amended, giving a sheepish smile. "Thanks."

With that, he retreated back into his room, mentally kicking himself. He couldn't seem to stop putting his foot in his mouth with Krauser, ever since- well, since he'd met the guy.

Leon sighed. He'd wanted to keep Krauser out of prison, wanted to help him, but it was still selfish bringing him here. Not like there were many other options. At least here, he could protect Krauser, he could…

Leon shook his head. He'd turned those thoughts over in his head too many times already.

He stepped over to his dresser, but as he got his pants on, his eye caught something out of place on the floor. Just barely visible beneath his dresser was the corner of one of his Polaroids. He wriggled his pants all the way up before leaning down to pick it up. As he held it upright, he found it was of himself; one of the many pictures Chris and Claire had gifted him from their road trip. It wasn't anything special, but Leon couldn't help but frown looking at it. He wasn't looking at the camera in it, and instead was staring out across a dense redwood forest.

Leon knew he was thinking about Javier in it. About his entire life, but it hadn’t been long after Javier then. It plagued his thoughts for years, and especially when he wasn't on any mission. Even with newfound friends, his mind still put him back in the jungle, back with Krauser.

He'd wanted to get back in touch with Krauser, had meant to call him or visit him or something, anything.

And then Krauser had died. At least, that's what he'd been told. No funeral, no grave, no body, he'd just been gone, and Leon was left with so much unsaid.

Leon drank far, far too much in the weeks after the news hit him. Then he'd thrown himself into government work and tried to forget. Forget everything.

It put what had happened in Spain into perspective, Leon realized. It put a lot of things into perspective.

Leon opened his photo drawer and placed the picture back into it. He still needed to organize it, but all the memories kept him away. Only one photo he owned was even framed, and he didn’t especially like looking at it.

Leon tried to put it out of his mind as he tugged his shirt over his head, mulling everything over. He needed to stop being a coward, needed to just come clean all the way. Maybe it wouldn’t change a thing, but at least the fog in his head might finally clear.

Leon took in a deep breath before heading back out of the room, ready to face Krauser. He wasn’t going to lose his nerve this time.

Of course, his nerve always seemed to change its mind the second Krauser came into view. He stepped out into the living room and was hit by the smell of toast right away. Krauser was hunched over his stove, shifting scrambled eggs around with a spatula. Leon swallowed thickly as he watched, barely able to comprehend the scene. He was still adjusting to Krauser just living in his house, so how was he supposed to process this?

Krauser glanced up from the eggs to look at him, his silence deafening. Immediately, Leon’s courage was faltering.

He almost laughed. Just three weeks ago, he’d faced down hordes of ganados and soldiers and mutant abominations without ever hesitating, but when Krauser just gave him a look? Suddenly he was paralyzed with fear.

If he could face down a giant, mutated lake fish, then he could face down Jack Krauser for Pete’s sake.

“Thank you,” he managed after a moment. “Thanks for cooking, I mean.”

Krauser raised an eyebrow.

“Not a problem,” he said. “But should you really be letting me?”

“What, you gonna spit in my food?” Leon scoffed at the absurdity of the idea. “Poison me?”

Krauser’s lip quirked, and Leon had to wonder why Krauser kept up the idea that he was going to assassinate Leon. As though he’d go through all the trouble he had, helping Leon and giving up his arm, just to do something as unceremonious as poisoning him.

“What would you even do?” Leon continued. “Pluck some hemlock from outside and put it in my eggs?” He made a point of eying the pan. “I sure don’t see any strange herbs to worry about.”

Krauser chuffed out what might have been a laugh.

“No. Not a bad idea though. Should pick up some parsley next time you’re out.”

Well, it wasn’t a bad suggestion, even if it didn’t get them any further.

Leon meandered over to the fridge and retrieved the fresh tub of butter he’d gotten the other day. He put it down on the table, where he noticed the place setting that Krauser had already done. The utensils were all uniform, making it clear that he’d put some thought into them.

Maybe under all that gruff attitude, Krauser was a real gentleman.

He knew that he was just avoiding the bigger issue at hand. He’d wait for Krauser to finish their food and then he’d say- something. He’d make them talk about everything between them, all the unspoken feelings that they’d allowed to build and build with nowhere to go, good and bad. Leon at least needed to know what Krauser really thought of him.

Leon sat down in what had become his usual seat, forcing himself to relax his shoulders. No matter what happened, everything would be fine. He just needed to be honest and hope for the best. He needed to say what he wished he could have said when he thought Krauser was gone.

Like it was that easy.

The sound of the toaster popping up gave Leon a start. He’d gotten himself so anxious that he’d almost forgotten his ambition for a piece of buttered toast. The scent of freshly heated bread hit him all at once, reigniting his appetite.

Krauser took care of plating up their food, and Leon couldn’t help but feel a little bad. He was the host here, so he should have been taking care of Krauser. Hell, Krauser was probably right in questioning if Leon should be letting him cook, at least according to whatever rules and regulations Leon was supposed to have read.

He hadn’t read them though, and he wasn’t at all worried about the food as Krauser set a plate in front of him.

“Thanks,” Leon said, the most he could summon in that moment.

Krauser hummed affirmation before sitting down across from him. He didn’t speak as he started in on his food, plunging them both into even more unbearable silence.

Say something, Leon told himself as he picked up his toast and dipped his knife into the butter. Just start the conversation already, get something out in the air.

“So,” Leon said, scraping butter over the bread. “Did you really almost leave last night or did I just dream that?”

Krauser stopped mid-chew and stared at Leon. He was quiet for a long stretch before he finally swallowed and replied.

“You didn’t dream it,” he said simply.

Well, that was good at least. Leon wasn’t completely losing his mind, not in a hallucination way anyhow.

“But you didn’t leave,” Leon observed, very perceptively if he said so himself.

“No, I didn’t.”

Leon was surprised at the flatness of Krauser’s tone and the lack of a sarcastic jab. Something was bugging him, even more than usual, and it must have had something to do with the previous night.

“What made you stop?” Leon asked. He didn’t know why, didn’t think it would get him anywhere, but he couldn’t stop himself.

“I…” Krauser’s eyes drifted down to his plate as he seemed to struggle with the words. “I figured- there are worse places to be. And what else am I gonna do? Be on the run for the rest of my life?”

Leon couldn’t help but smile at the answer, though he tried to suppress it.

“I’m glad you decided to stay.” Leon hesitated before adding, “Really glad.”

Krauser looked up at him, his eyes as soft as Leon had ever seen them. He wasn’t smiling, but his usual frown was less severe.

“You mean that,” Krauser said, barely above a whisper. “Don’t you?”

“Of course I do. Why wouldn’t I?”

From the way Krauser’s jaw set, Leon realized that that may have been a bad question to ask.

“You forgetting Spain already, boy scout?”

Leon's heart sank, unsure of the right thing to say next.

"You helped me," he said, grasping for words. "We took out Saddler together."

"Only after you beat me within an inch of my life." Krauser wasn't looking at Leon anymore, his eyes firmly on his eggs. "Maybe I just decided that if you can't beat'em, you better rejoin them."

Leon gritted his teeth. With so much of what he'd said since coming to Leon's home, it was like Krauser wanted to be the bad guy. Wanted Leon to see him that way.

"You still didn't have to follow or help me," he said. "You could have kept the worm and your freedom and your arm and-"

Leon hesitated before he could finish his thought, like the last word was choking him.

"And what?" Krauser asked, tone cold and hard.

Leon frowned, his throat tight. "You could have disappeared, like you did before."

Krauser froze and tensed at that, like Leon had said something especially cutting. He was quiet for a long while, refusing to even look at Leon. Then he seemed to simply shake it off.

“It doesn’t matter now anyway,” he said, leaning back and relaxing his shoulders. “It’s done, no going back.”

“Yeah,” Leon agreed, poking a fork into his eggs. “No going back.”

It was the last thing they said to each other before falling into an uncomfortable silence as they ate. All Leon could do was wish to find some damn balls.

The day crawled by without much passing between them. Leon turned on the radio at some point just to have some background audio, even if it was droning weather reports or angsty pop-rock. Krauser didn’t complain either way, having found a book that he seemed to like. He’d claimed the armchair in the living room for himself, and really, he fit better into it than Leon ever had.

Leon was happy to be able to spread out on the couch instead, even though it was a little too short and his feet hung off the far end. It was a damn miracle in itself that the two of them could so much as inhabit the same space without something exploding.

Leon thought about speaking up more than a few times as he laid there, sneaking glances at Krauser who never looked up from his book.

With a quiet sigh, Leon realized that this was going to be both of their lives now.

Lunch came and went with not more than two words said between them. The radio droned on, Krauser wouldn’t so much as look at Leon, and Leon was almost wondering if he’d been the right person to take on Krauser in this capacity.

As though anyone else could or would do what he was doing. No, this was the best Leon could do for Krauser. And hell, he’d been willing to let Krauser go, but he’d stayed.

Why did he stay if he was going to act like Leon barely existed?

Questions like that were the ones he should have said, but he didn’t know the right way to say them. There never seemed to be a right way to say anything, so he ended up saying nothing of value instead.

It was a relief when the sun finally fell and Leon had a good excuse to retreat into his room. It was only marginally private, but it was enough to offer some relief from the crushing lack of conversation between himself and Krauser.

He was taking off his outer clothes when his mind wandered back to his photo drawer. Leon didn’t especially want to open it and dig up the past, but there were a few pictures that were different. A few that weren’t exactly his.

With a deep breath, Leon opened the drawer and reached inside to open the book within. He flipped through it fast, doing his best to avoid his own Polaroids. As he got towards the end though, he found what he was looking for.

After Krauser’s “death”, he’d used his government clearance to request any available intelligence on Krauser. That happened to include copies of the scarce few photos of him. One was simply a cropped group photo from Krauser’s time in the army, all dressed up in his uniform. Maybe it was weird, voyeuristic even, but Leon was fascinated by the life Krauser had led before meeting him. He’d given up so much to work alongside Leon, only for it to get cut agonizingly short. Would Krauser have been happier if he’d stayed where he was in the photo? Would it have been better for them to never meet at all? Was Leon just doomed to make the people he cared about suffer?

Leon turned a page and the other two photos from the set scattered out. He sighed, telling himself for the thousandth time that he needed to organize the whole album.

Both images only fueled Leon’s uncertainty further, one showing Krauser wearing an apron as he stirred what looked like chili in a nondescript kitchen. His eyes had only just drifted up to notice the camera, his expression somewhere between neutral and puzzled. To Leon, he looked so strangely content, like even the more mundane parts of army life brought him peace. Such a contrast to what Leon had seen of him in Spain.

Then the last picture, maybe the most fascinating and tragic, was of Krauser and another army guy who Leon didn’t recognize at all. Krauser was leaning down, taking the man’s arm and helping him back up from a trench. The man was smiling, wide and familiar, and while Krauser wasn’t quite facing the camera, enough of his face was visible to see that he was smiling too. It was just a split-second snapshot, but something in Leon broke when he saw it.

Leon knew that it wasn’t truly his fault, knew that Krauser had taken the job and known the risks, but seeing him so content before… Leon couldn’t help but feel responsible. He didn’t know if it hurt more or less now that Krauser was back with him.

Leon didn’t even bother to close the album, leaving it laid flat out as he shut the drawer again. It was too much, all of it, and keeping it bottled up was only making matters worse.

But what else was he supposed to do? Admit that he’d looked into Krauser after-the-fact, kept pictures like some kind of obsessive?

No, no that had to stay in the drawer. Out of sight, out of mind.

Stripped down, Leon made his way into the bathroom to brush his teeth for the night. All the while, he watched Krauser’s door out of the corner of his eye, half-dreading the idea of Krauser walking in, and half-hoping for it too.

It was to no avail though, and Leon finished his nightly routine without incident. He shut the door to the bathroom behind himself before going to flop on his bed. What was he going to do about all of this? More to the point, when was he going to do something about it? He hated the idle domesticity of being home, nothing to distract him from his inner turmoil. All he could do was lay there, the frustration eating at his mind.

Leon was roused by a course of knocks coming from his door. Three in a row, then a pause, then another three. Leon lifted his head up to glance at the door into the living room, only for another knock to turn his gaze toward the bathroom door.

He was so out of it that it didn’t immediately register that he might need to respond somehow. Leon waited for a long few moments, expecting another knock or two, but none came. Something in him wondered why, and finally motivated him enough to get to his feet.

His eyes were adjusted well enough to the dark, but he still took it slow as he approached the bathroom door. Maybe it was because he was still sleepy, maybe it was a subconscious sort of caution. Either way, Leon was especially deliberate as he pushed the door open.

The dim light of the bathroom mirror washed over him, eliciting little more than a blink. He left it on sometimes, so it wasn’t all that unusual. What was unusual was the opposite door yawning open, with Krauser’s massive frame standing just behind the threshold.

“Jack?” Leon mumbled, reaching up to rub his eyes. “Did you need something?”

Leon could only make out vagaries of Krauser’s facial expression in the dim light, and Krauser was likely in a similar position. Even still, he couldn’t make out a single change on Krauser’s face at his question.

Krauser opened his mouth like he wanted to speak, but the words seemed caught in his throat. Leon wanted to speak up again, to prompt him, to tell him that whatever he had to say, it was okay. Instead, he just stood there like an idiot. By this point, he knew that he had to be an idiot with how he’d bungled every chance he had to tell Krauser- a lot of things.

“Leon.”

Leon startled, unused to Krauser’s voice after a long day of hardly hearing it.

“I don’t know anymore,” Krauser continued, each word slow and painful. “What I need. Nothing feels real. Everything that’s happened, everything you’ve done. Feels like I must have died somewhere along the way and all of this is just some kind of dream.”

It must have been the most Krauser had divulged to Leon in a long while. The walls he’d put up at the kitchen table were lowered, leaving Krauser in a state that Leon could only describe as uncertainty.

“Maybe I did, in a way,” Krauser continued unabated. “I thought about beating you for so long, like it would prove something, and now…”

He trailed off, losing the words or his nerve or both. Frowning, Leon took a ginger step over the threshold.

“You never needed to prove anything,” he said, gently. “But you keep proving how good of a guy you are anyway.”

Krauser looked straight at him then, intense and focused. It didn’t last long, shifting back to his persistent doubt after just an instant.

“No,” Krauser shook his head, leaning his shoulder up against the door frame. “I don’t think I ever was, Leon.”

Leon could hardly believe his ears. After everything Krauser had done, everything he’d sacrificed, he was still talking about himself like he was nothing? It just wasn’t right.

He took a step forward, shaking his head. “That is not true, Jack, you’re-”

He couldn’t get the full thought out before Krauser was speaking again.

"Did you ever think you disappeared on me, Leon?"

For a moment, Leon was confused, unable to make sense of what Krauser was asking. Then it clicked: their talk at breakfast. Krauser must have been thinking about it all day. Leon felt like he'd been punched in the gut, and couldn’t find the words to tell Krauser that yes, of course he had, how could he possibly not have?

His silence couldn’t have reflected well on him, and Krauser let out a sigh.

“Why do you have pictures of me?” he asked, so flat that he may as well have been asking Leon about the weather.

Leon’s eyes snapped wide open, his heart skipping a beat and blood rushing to his face. How did he-? Had he-? He must have gone snooping while Leon was out. He had half a mind to be angry, accusatory, but all he could think about was how bad it must have looked. Not just that Leon had Krauser’s pictures, but that he had so many others.

What could Krauser possibly think seeing those? None of them were anything special, just him, Chris, and Claire, but Leon looked happy in them. They were snapshots of his life after Javier, without Krauser.

Fleeting moments of joy among a plague of regret.

“It’s not what you think,” Leon said, far too desperate to come off as innocent.

Krauser squeezed his eyes shut, clearly none-too-impressed. He moved to step back into the darkness of his room.

“It doesn’t matter,” he sighed, already pushing the door closed. “Just- forget I said anything.”

“Jack-” Leon called out, but it was already too late. The door shut with barely a sound and Leon was left alone in darkness.

Great. Just great. So much for finding some balls.

Leon was about ready to scream or cry or go charging into Krauser’s room to scream and cry at him, but he didn’t. Instead, he shut his own door and let out a long, pained grumble before bumping his head up against it.