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Chris Redfield has seen many terrible things. It never gets easier. Through it all- zombies and monsters, immoral violence and suffering, death and pain- he has never gotten used to the agony of losing one of his men.
Except, Ethan isn't one of his men. Ethan is… just a guy, really. Just a father doing what he can, a father who loves his daughter and wife, who had been dragged into this mess and refuses to back down.
But Ethan is dying. And Chris can't lose another one of his men. Especially not a civilian, especially not Ethan .
It can't be this way , Chris' mind supplies, useless and biting. His grip on Ethan's shoulder tightens, desperate and manic. "Come on, Ethan," he whispers, begs . Doesn't bother to keep the emotion from his voice, just- just wants this to be okay, just wants Ethan to be okay. "Come on, Ethan, wake up!" His voice ends in a shout, a gutted sort of yell, a sob escaping.
The mold twists. The ground shakes, and Chris trembles. He's scared, he's terrified. He can't lose Ethan.
"Chris…" There. Weak, but there , such a relief.
"Ethan, you did it, it's finished," Chris assures, voice quivering.
"I think we… finished… each other."
No, no , no . Chris knows a dying man, he knows , he knows the effort it takes Ethan to say those words and the effort to keep breathing. It doesn't matter- he's getting him out of here. He has to. "Ethan, we've gotta move," he says instead, finally grasping some control of his voice.
Ethan makes no response, no inclination that he's heard, but Chris doesn't hesitate. He helps the man to his feet, flinging Ethan's loose arm around his neck, and wrapping his own sore arm around the other's waist.
Chris can hear the Megamycete, and he glances back. His heart thunders in his chest and all he can think is- is that he needs to save Ethan; he needs to save Rose. "Keep moving, Ethan!" Chris orders, not that it's any help- Ethan is almost completely limp against him. "There's a bomb in that thing that'll blow this village sky-high." And- that's right. He's telling him. He's telling him before it's too late, not like last time, not half-truths and "it's classifieds." Ethan knows. Ethan's prepared.
Ethan's head is sagging. He's holding Rosemary tightly, but his head is drooping and his body is weak and- no. "Hey, look at me," Chris nearly cries, "when I hit that trigger, we can't be anywhere near it."
Nothing. Not a noise. Not even a groan of pain or tilt of his head, just- nothing. "Dammit, Mia's waiting for you!" A different tactic. God, anything, he just needs something - "She's alive, you hear me? Alive!"
"Mia…?" Ethan croaks. Thank God. Oh, thank God. "I'm so sorry… I love you. Keep Rose safe." His voice is so broken, so pathetic; Chris' heart twists, and shatters.
"Hey, hey hey!" Ethan groans, lurching forward, handing Rose off to him, and slumping over. "You tell her yourself," he demands, pleads. "Now come on, it's not that much further!"
"Watch over her," Ethan rasps. Chris watches helplessly as he shrugs out of his jacket and lays it atop Rosemary with bloodied fingers. "Teach her to be strong…"
No. The mold takes Ethan, it rips him away from Chris and blocks him, and he's got a baby, he can't- he can't drop her, he can't- and the detonator is in Ethan's hands now, God , how could he have missed that? And there's nothing he can do, nothing he can say. He stares at Ethan's tear-stained cheeks and thinks I love you, I'm so sorry.
"Goodbye, Rose…mary."
"Ethan," Chris chokes. He knows there's no way Ethan's coming back from this, but-
But it doesn't matter. Rose whines in his arms, squirms, lets out a feeble cry.
Chris turns and runs: he couldn't save Ethan, but he'll save Rose.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Chris understands that trauma does things to a person.
It hurts, and hurts, and hurts. Sometimes you come back swinging, and sometimes you don't.
But this? He can't wrap his head around it.
She needs help. She's not fit to be a mother.
Is he fit to be a father? Is Leon?
No, no. This is Mia's easy way out. It's not about her trauma or her history or her dead husband- it's about her, as it always has been and always will be.
Mia gave up Rosemary Winters because no matter what, she thinks of herself first and foremost- even when the man she's supposed to love dies, even when there's a beautiful baby girl bundled in her arms- and Chris Redfield will never forgive her.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
A year.
It takes a year for Chris to look Rosemary in the eyes.
She is young and innocent, sweet smiles and soft words.
They aren’t supposed to be Daddy and Papa. They’re not- they’re not her parents, really.
She doesn’t deserve this.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
"Chris-"
"No."
Leon holds in a sigh. It's been two years, and Chris still doesn't talk about Ethan.
But there have been nights when he's out late with Claire or Sherry, and he comes back home to a sight that breaks his heart no matter how many times he's condemned to it.
It's pathetic.
Chris staring at an old picture of Ethan and Rosemary, body trembling, silent tears rolling from his eyes.
And Leon… he knows the official report. He knows the report, and he knows that Chris loved Ethan enough to adopt Rose, but he doesn't… he doesn't really know .
And it's been two years.
"Do you think you'll feel better if you-"
"I don't know," Chris grunts, frowning. "I don't…know."
"Hey," Leon murmurs, squeezing Chris' fingers, "it's okay. I just want you to be okay."
They lapse into silence. Leon's given up; he's not going to fight Chris, it's not worth it, and it's unfair to demand that of a man who's seen so much.
To his surprise, though, Chris breaks the silence. "Ethan was a good man," he begins. "You would have liked him, Leon. He was… he was so good."
"Yeah?" Leon prompts, scooting closer, hoping the close contact will offer some sort of comfort.
"You know about Dulvey. You know that- that he was there."
Leon nods his confirmation.
"He went after Mia. He went through all that to save her from a horrible fate that she'd brought upon herself, and what the fuck did he get out of it? Nothing. He died, and he died again. And Mia got to walk away."
Leon swallows the lump in his throat, suddenly feeling dizzy.
"And then… God, I should have told him, I shouldn't have kept him in the dark, Leon, but I did. He didn't know anything, he went in blind." Chris sucks in a horrible, shuddering breath and continues, "but the worst part is that I loved him. I loved him, and he died under my watch. I couldn't save him. He told me he loved me and that he's sorry or maybe he told Mia that, or maybe even Rose, I don't know, I don't know, I wish I knew-"
"You tried your best," Leon interrupts his rambling, pressing a kiss to Chris' shoulder. "You did everything you could, and you took Rosemary even though you didn't have to, Chris."
"I just want to be a better man. Ethan was a good man. He was- he was so good, Leon," as Chris' voice breaks, so does Leon's heart. "He loved Mia and Rose so much that it was his death sentence."
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
"I love you,” Leon gasps, blunt nails scraping across Chris’ shoulders. His legs quiver and he chokes on a sob built from overstimulation. “I love you, Chris, I love you-”
“Shh,” Chris whispers, fingers delicately brushing Leon’s lips despite his otherwise brutal place. “I love you too, so so much.”
Leon shouts Chris’ name when he comes, shaking from overexertion and the edges of his vision blurry from the force. Chris is there, holding him through it, so tender and perfect-
“I love you,” he rasps again, hoping Chris knows just how much he means it.
“I know, baby,” Chris assures, planting kisses on Leon’s teary eyelids, “I know, it’s okay.”
It’s okay, it’s okay.
But that isn't right- he's the one who should be comforting Chris, repeating that mantra over and over again until Chris understands, but-
It's okay.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
“Don’t touch that,” Leon scolds, swiping the kitchen knife from Rose’s needy hands. “You know better than to touch the steak knives.”
She scowls at him, eyes narrowed with menace- if Rosemary hadn’t been a five-year-old, Leon might have been scared.
“It’s not fair,” she whines. “I just want to help with the cooking.”
“I have Chris to help, hon’.”
“But I want to help.”
Leon grimaces, turning away. He wishes- he wishes Rose would just listen sometimes. Rose is a good kid, but…
She's mold. She's mold , and just as dangerous as she is young.
"Why don’t you keep an eye out for Papa and give me a holler when he’s back?”
Rose blinks up at him owlishly. “Okay,” she agrees. “I’ll wait for Papa. He’ll need me right away.”
“Right,” Leon mutters, turning back to the pot of stew. He hopes Chris isn’t late. It’s been three weeks now, and just- he needs…
“PAPA!” Rose’s shout interrupts his thoughts as the clatter of a door being recklessly thrown open rips through the house. She sounds so excited and young-
“Rosie!” Chris calls back, just as stupidly soft -
Leon's heart flutters.
Chris thuds into the kitchen, footsteps loud as ever, a grin on his face and Rosemary atop his shoulders.
Leon loves this man, and this kid, so fucking much it hurts. Chris swoops in for a kiss, and Leon melts- he’s putty in his hands, cringiness be damned.
"Leon," Chris greets, eyes genuinely shining. His hand rests on Leon’s cheek, warm and grounding. “How were things?”
“Good,” he murmurs, leaning into the touch. “Missed you.”
“Rosemary missed me too,” Chris teases. “Didn’t you, Rosie?”
“Sure did!” Rose agrees joyfully, tugging at Chris’ hair. “Is it dinner time yet? I’m hungryyyy.”
And- yeah.
He loves his family. So, so much.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Chris groans at the weight on top of him, unwilling to open his eyes.
"It's Christmas," Rose tells the room loudly. Leon snorts from beside him on the bed.
"Papa needs to rest, sweetie. C'mon. I'll make us breakfast."
"And then can we open presents?"
Chris doesn't dare open his eyes until the door clicks shut behind them. He rolls over, head throbbing, but- she's right. It's Christmas.
Christmas is hard for him, but it doesn't need to be hard for Rose.
He forces himself from the bed, despite the ache in his chest.
"Papa!" Rosie exclaims when she sees him shuffle into the kitchen, eyes bright with child-like excitement. "Can we open presents now? Please? "
"After you eat," Chris promises, bending forward to plant a kiss on her forehead. "Then we're going to Aunt Claire's."
"Aunt Claire!" Rose cheers; Chris can't help but share her joy. He hasn't seen his sister in some time.
"Sherry gonna be there?" He asks Leon, grabbing a plate and flinging a few pancakes on it.
"Of course," Leon confirms. "The five of us."
"I get to see Sherry too?" Rose pipes up, practically vibrating in her chair. "I can't wait!"
"Me neither." Leon grins, and Chris can't help the overwhelming warmth that consumes his heart. He yanks the younger man into an innocent kiss, remaining mindful of Rosemary.
"Ew," Rose whines, earning a laugh from the men. "You guys are gross!"
And- sometimes, times like this , it's hard to remember that Rose isn't really his.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
“Ethan wouldn’t have wanted this,” Chris hisses. His hands are shaking, but he doesn’t know why- it’s just Mia, she’s not dangerous, she’s just- she’s difficult-
“Ethan’s dead,” Mia’s voice is meant to be gentle, but it’s laced with patronization and a sneer, “it doesn’t matter what he wanted, Chris. I’m her mother-”
“You haven’t been her mother since you signed her over to us,” Leon interrupts, voice frighteningly calm compared to Chris’. “She’s not going to be used as any sort of bioweapon."
“She’s old enough now,” Mia insists. “It’s not about using her as a weapon- it’s about ensuring her safety. If she’s trained, then-”
“Ethan wouldn’t have wanted this,” Chris repeats, helpless and lost.
“It doesn’t matter!” She huffs, hands flying up in frustration. “She should be prepared if anything happens-”
“SHE’S EIGHT YEARS OLD!” Chris snarls, leaping to his feet. He draws his gun without thought, unfaltering even as she flinches. He thuds toward the woman, trembling, heaving, pissed . “I don’t give a fuck what you think she needs,” he continues, quieter but no less malicious, “I’m her father, Leon’s her father, you’re nothing . You made your choice; live with it.”
“I’m doing what I can,” Mia shoots back, bristling. “You think you’re so high and mighty; you think you’re the only one who cares and can protect her, but you’re wrong and it’s going to get her killed.”
“Stop it,” Leon interjects, his voice cold and quiet but his eyes loud and seething. “Mia, the answer’s no.”
She does sneer then, before letting out a shrill, bitter laugh. “You’ll regret that.”
Leon takes Chris’ hand and leads him out of the room, away from the evil, away from the devil.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
The world is dark.
He's suffocating. His eyes burn and his lungs scream.
He can't make a noise. Can only writhe in agony, gasping for air that's never there, searching for a light that never appears, dying, over and over and-
________________________
"Are you sure?"
"I'm sure."
"But… it's been almost ten years." Leon feels worthless. Chris is crying, crumbling under the stress, and there's nothing he can do to make his husband feel better. Chris has been in this fight too long, he doesn't deserve this .
"I don't know why they're investigating it now. But they're not- they're not involving me, Leon. They don't want me anywhere near that village again."
Leon blinks, worry morphing into curiosity. "Do you want to be involved, Chris?" He asks, attempting to sound gentle and not demanding. "It's okay if you do. I'm not mad."
"I don't know."
"Do you think he's…?"
"It's impossible. He died. He- he's gone."
"I just mean-"
"Leon, please," Chris whispers hoarsely.
Leon falls silent.
______________
"Tell me about my father again."
Chris forces a soft smile, patting his lap. Rose crawls into it gladly, snuggling closer to him.
"What story?"
"Tell me about how he loved my mother."
Chris swallows, preparing himself.
Rose doesn't ask often, but sometimes… sometimes she wants to hear about him.
He owes her this much.
"Okay, sweetie," he agrees.
____________________
His head is exploding. It's the only explanation: his head is exploding, and he's going to die again, just as alone, cold, and aching as before.
_________________
Chris isn't sure why they called him in.
As far as he can see, the village was decimated.
There's nothing and everything all at once. Snow and wind and the biting cold, but also scorched earth and burnt trees.
His chest hurts, and he doesn't want to think about Ethan. How much he still misses him, still loves him.
It doesn't matter; Ethan is dead. He turns to one of his men, ordering them to watch his back and keep an eye out for any abnormal activity. He steps toward the only thing in miles that isn't toast; a clump of mold the size of a small building.
Chris never wants to see this shit again.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
"When's Papa coming back?" Rose asks sleepily, barely able to keep her eyes open beside Leon. "It's been too long."
"Soon."
"Is he okay?"
"He's okay," Leon promises, himself or her, he's unsure. "He's okay, we'll see him soon."
"Okay," Rose accepts.
He has to be okay.
______________
And there's light. There's light, and it's blinding. There's air , and it's choking.
_______________
It's him.
It's him, and God is cruel.
But it's him .
____________
Ethan Winters isn't what Leon expected, if he's being honest.
But maybe… maybe death changes a person.
________________
"I want to see my husband."
"He's not your husband anymore-"
"I want to see him. Now."
__________________
Ethan's quiet, and it's unsettling. He'd never been loud , but he's silent and tense; terrified.
Chris never wants Ethan to be afraid of him; the thought hurts so deeply it's almost crippling, but he knows it's nobody's fault.
Still. He has to try.
"Do you want to see her?"
Ethan shakes his head no.
Rosemary is sitting on the other side of the room, eyes curious and worried. She knows there's something wrong, she just doesn't know what.
"We can all go," Rose tries. She's twelve, she's only twelve , but she understands so much.
"No," Ethan whispers. "I'm tired, and- and Mia-"
"Okay," Chris agrees softly, "okay, that's fine. We won't make you see her, Ethan. Do you need help to your room?
"I can do it." He can't; he almost collapses the moment he stands, but Chris steadies him.
Chris would just carry him, but Ethan has always been stubborn, and he's behaving like a cornered, scared animal, so he just helps him limp toward the guest bedroom.
Ethan sinks onto the bed, resting his head in his hands and leaning over. Chris feels awful that just the short distance took so much out of him; he wishes he could make this easier for Ethan.
Chris turns away, meaning to give Ethan some time to himself, but Ethan's voice stops him. "I missed her childhood. She doesn't even know who I am."
Ethan's upset. He's miserable.
"She knows what you did for her."
"But she doesn't know me ." His voice shatters, lip trembling as a sob wrenches from his throat. "Chris, she's my daughter, and she doesn't- she doesn't know me."
"She will," Chris swears, making his way back toward Ethan. He hesitantly sits beside him, a tentative hand reaching out to lay on Ethan's back. "It'll take time, but she will."
"I'm never going to be her father. She has two."
"Maybe she can have a third," the words slip out before he can stop himself; Ethan grimaces.
"Maybe," he agrees, dejected. "We'll see."
Chris can tell he doesn't believe it.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Ethan can feel someone watching him from the doorway. He doesn't move, feigning sleep in hopes whoever is there will leave him alone.
They don't; Leon clears his throat, abrupt and piercing into the calming silence. "Chris made dinner." There's a smile in his words, a half-tease.
"Chris sucks at cooking."
"I know. Don't worry, I helped."
Ethan grunts in response, still unwilling to move. His body hurts- it's been weeks now, but everything still aches. It's snowing out: Ethan wonders if that's why the pain is so much worse today.
"C'mon," Leon's voice is gentle, pitying. "We made you some soup."
Soup . God, he's so sick of soup, but it's the only food he can keep down.
"Okay," he finally agrees, struggling out of bed. Leon is there offering an arm, which Ethan immediately clings to.
He wishes he didn’t need help.
He wonders if he’ll always need help.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
The first time Ethan babysits his own goddamn daughter is exactly two month and ten days after he arrives back in the states.
“It’ll be fine,” Ethan assures Leon and Chris (and himself) as they each kiss Rose goodbye.
It’s not fine, of course. Rosemary stares at him with curious eyes the entire time, and it’s awkward, the air so thick with tense silence that he can feel it. The night can’t end soon enough, and when it finally does Ethan retreats to his room.
He falls into bed, burying his face into his pillow, and cries until it hurts to breathe.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Leon can tell something is wrong with Ethan: obviously.
The man’s died… how many times.
It's just that Ethan doesn't really talk. He spends time with all of them, helps cook, helps clean… but he never seems like he's fully there.
Leon doesn’t know how to help him; he just attempts to be kind, and understanding, but it never feels like enough. It doesn't help that Ethan never even vaguely tells him what's wrong. If Leon had to guess, he's pretty sure Ethan doesn't say anything to Chris, either… which is bad.
After so long attempting to pry information from Ethan, it comes as a surprise when he approaches Leon first.
"Hey," Ethan greets quietly, taking a seat beside Leon on the couch. He's close; a little too close for comfort, but he's trembling, so Leon only scoots closer, quickly wrapping an arm around him.
"What's wrong?" Leon murmurs as Ethan slumps against him, shoving his face against Leon's shoulder.
At first, there's no response, and Ethan just shudders against him. Then, he croaks, "How do you handle it?"
"Handle what?"
"Everything you've been through. You- you do it so well."
Leon doesn't know what to say at first; then he laughs, short, uncontrolled giggles. Ethan yanks away, staring at him incredulously. "I don't handle it well," Leon manages in between chuckles. It's just absurd that Ethan truly thinks he has any sort of grip on his emotions.
After a few moments, he's mostly composed, and continues, "Nobody does, Ethan. It's not something anyone handles well- you've just got to find your own ways to deal with things."
"But you never talk about it."
Leon frowns, unsure how to respond. He chooses his next words as carefully as he can, "I do talk about it, sometimes. With Chris."
"Oh."
Leon's frown deepens. "You know you can talk to us about everything… right?"
"Yeah, yeah… of course." Ethan doesn't sound convinced.
"Hey, hey- look at me." Leon lifts both hands, cupping Ethan's face. The gesture is overwhelmingly intimate, but neither man seems to care. "We're here for you, okay?"
And then- Ethan starts crying. He's crying, and Leon doesn't think he's ever seen him cry before. He knows Chris has, but… this is new. Leon's being trusted, and that's good. But what isn't good is that this beautiful man is crying , and Leon is once again helpless.
"Nothing feels right," Ethan manages, "I just… I want things to be right again. And… nothing feels real."
Leon nods; he knows the feeling. After Raccoon City, everything had felt like a dream. "I know," he empathizes. Ethan relaxes against him, and Leon shifts his hand toward the other's hair, stroking it in what he hopes is a comforting motion.
They fall into silence, Ethan silently sobbing against him, and Leon just… holding him. It's suffocatingly domestic. Eventually, Ethan's eyes begin to droop, clearly exhausted. Leon repositions them absent-mindedly.
If the sight Chris comes homes to that night (his two boys asleep on the couch, Ethan sprawled atop of Leon like a blanket) brings tears to his eyes, well, that's nobody's business but his own.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
"You took my daughter away, you don't have the right to take my husband, too."
"You abandoned her."
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Ethan knows he'll never be Papa or Daddy. He's learned to accept that he'll only ever be Rose's father , a biological factor, and a man who lives in her home; nothing more.
Even now, it hurts. Rose is almost 13: the year he's been home had passed in a blur, and he feels like he's wasted so many years, no matter the circumstances.
All he can do is hope, and try. He's there for Rose when Chris and Leon aren't. It's better than it used to be, but nothing will ever ease that ache in his heart as long as Rosemary looks at him with that distant unfamiliarity.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Ethan doesn't mean to walk in on Leon and Chris.
Rose is off at her friend's house for the weekend and Chris is finally home from another mission.
And truthfully, he's a little drunk. He misses when getting drunk had been fun: now it just makes him sad.
He doesn't even knock, just twists the knob and slides in. He doesn't know what he was thinking.
It shouldn't surprise him to see Leon and Chris fucking, but…
It hits him like a train, intense and painful .
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
"What's that?"
"A pothos," Ethan answers, gripping the huge plant in between his arms.
"Okay," Leon accepts, shrugging. Whatever. A few plants can't hurt.
_________________
"It's okay, sweetie," Chris assures Rose, who's a blubbering mess beside him. He squeezes her hand, making sure she knows he's not angry. "It's not the end of the world, I promise." It's really not a big deal- there are many worse things than a D in math.
"Dad will be mad!"
"He won't. We'll just have to do a better job helping with homework, okay?"
Rose scowls, unconvinced. "Both of you are really bad at math- h-how am I supposed to get help if you two don't know what you're doing!"
"I can help," Ethan pipes up awkwardly. Chris hadn't even heard him come in. "I'm good at math."
Chris' heart twists, feeling a little sad on Ethan's behalf. He knows how hard the situation with Rosemary has been on him. He's glad that Ethan is taking more initiative, though: he's much less self-deprecating than he'd been months prior.
"Thank you," Rose tells Ethan, her first genuine smile of the night sliding into her lips.
"Anytime," Ethan swears, a tiny grin of his own loosening his features. "I mean it."
Rose pulls away from Chris, leaping from her chair and bounding toward Ethan. She pulls the man into a hug.
Ethan doesn't move, staring at Chris in bewilderment. Chris makes a comical motion with his hands, idiot, hug your daughter back , and Ethan snaps out of his daze, wrapping his arms around Rosemary like his life depends on it.
The joy in Ethan's face is euphoric. Chris never wants to see it fade.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
"I realized… I never said thank you."
"For what?"
"Keeping Rose away from Mia. Making sure she wasn't used. So… thank you."
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Ethan isn’t a fool.
He knows what attraction feels like.
He knows that dull ache of loneliness even when he’s with Chris and Leon, the sting in his eyes when he’s watched them for too long: I want I want I want .
Chris and Leon aren’t obtainable.
They never will be; he came back too late, he’s nothing like them, he’s dead , he’s-
He’s just a guy. Leon and Chris… are so much more.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Leon kisses Ethan. It’s just a soft brush of lips on his forehead, a whispered, “Goodnight, Ethan,” against his skin. It’s so… simple. Innocent.
Ethan feels guilty. Leon thinks he’s asleep, and… and here he is, intruding, in a way.
He doesn’t deserve it. He wants more.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
“Rose,” Leon scolds, crossing his arms over his chest against his I <3 HOT DADS apron. “Stop stealing food. Wait until dinner like the rest of us.”
“But I’m hungry now,” she complains, stealing another piece of cheese from the cutting board.
"How much longer?" Chris asks, egging her on.
Rose flashes Leon a shit-eating grin that she'd learned from him, then scampers off before he can yell at her again.
As Rose leaves, Ethan enters, rubbing his eyes and grumbling something to himself. His hair is sleep-mussed and greasy. Leon glances at Chris, smiling to himself when he sees the dopey look that crosses Chris' face at the sight of a sleepy Ethan.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
"You should tell him how you feel." Leon glances up from the book he's reading to stare blankly at Rosemary, not entirely sure if he'd heard her right. "C'mon, you're so obvious about it. Just tell him you like him."
Leon decides pretending he didn't hear is his best option, and buries his nose back into White Fang .
"Dad," Rose sighs, sounding exasperated. "Anyone with eyes-"
"Drop it," Leon tells her gently.
"But Dad- "
"Rosemary."
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Chris falls victim only days later. At first, Leon isn't paying close attention to Chris and Rose's conversation, too engrossed with the blanket he's crocheting to really care what they have to say.
"-it's just that you guys basically just get heart eyes whenever he walks in the room, so-"
"Rose," Leon huffs, immediately catching on, "we've been over this."
Chris frowns in confusion, before telling Rose, "I'm not sure what you mean, sweetie."
"You all like each other. You've been dancing around each other for months."
"I'm not sure Ethan would feel that way."
"No, Rose, we don't like Ethan," Leon adds, shooting Chris a glare.
"Well, I wouldn't say that-"
"You like him! I knew it!"
"Maybe," Chris admits, at the same time that Leon says, "No!"
"C'mon, Leon, don't lie to her."
"It's not like that," Leon grumbles, pushing the half-finished blanket away and fleeing the room.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Leon thinks about what Chris told him, all those years ago-
Ethan Winters is a good man.
Maybe that's why Leon fell in love.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Ethan doesn't know when the change began, but he can definitely feel it: it's nothing big or overtly noticeable, just a slight switch in the atmosphere. Leon and Chris are softer, kinder , and sometimes he catches them staring-
It's why he does what he does.
Ethan doesn't sleep- the many nightmares are too painful, too suffocating for him. He thinks his dead-mold status contributes to his ability to stay awake for days on end without dying again, but he can't be sure.
And it only works for so long before he passes out.
Of course, when Ethan wakes up gasping for air, heart thundering in his chest and shaking like a scared dog, his first thought is Leon Chris Leon Chris Leon Ch-
He scrambles from his bed and staggers toward their room. Usually, he would suffer through it alone, a fist shoved in his mouth to muffle his sobs until he threw up, but it's that acute difference that makes him act differently this time.
He knocks on the closed door, hands trembling. It's not too late- he wonders if they're even asleep yet.
"Come in," Chris calls, and Ethan flings open the door as fast as he can.
"What's u-" the words aren't fully out of Leon's mouth before he's crawling into bed between them. "Are you okay?"
"Nightmare," Ethan explains, short and clipped.
There's a moment of silence, where Ethan imagines Chris and Leon are giving each other a long look, and then- "Okay, Ethan. Do you want to talk about it?"
"Not really."
"Do you want us to stay awake with you?"
"No. I want to stay the night in your room." He doesn't know what he'll do if they kick him out now, but even in his panic-driven mind, he figures he might as well get his point across.
"That's fine," Chris speaks somewhat too eagerly. "We'll just- we'll…"
An arm wraps around his waist and pulls him closer: he doesn't know if it's Leon or Chris, but he realizes it doesn't matter.
He feels safe.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
"Do you think Rose is right?"
Chris glances up from the football game, raising a brow. "Do you think she's right?"
"Well… I didn't. But then-"
"Yeah."
"Yeah," Leon echoes, slumping forward in defeat. "Kinda a big deal. We should probably bring it up to him."
Chris scowls. "It's easier if we just ignore it."
"You've been in love with him for years, Chris. You're afraid of rejection, I get it, but…"
"I know. You're right. If we don't communicate it's going to bite us in the ass."
"Always does," Leon agrees, smiling softly at Chris. He appreciates the admittance- Chris has always been shit at communication. "Rose is going to be gone Friday. We can do it then?"
Chris nods bitterly.
Leon leans forward to plant a kiss on his forehead; a thank you.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
"Ethan, we need to talk to you."
Well, fuck. He doesn't like that tone. "Are you kicking me out?"
" What ?"
"What?"
"We're not kicking you out!" Chris assures, and then blushes. "It's actually kind of the opposite?"
"I already live here."
"This isn't about your living situation," Leon sighs in exasperation, "It's about the other night."
Ethan immediately sobers, a small frown painting his lips. "Oh." Silence hangs heavy in the air, none of them sure how to continue, until Ethan adds, "It won't happen again."
"No, it's not like that," Chris promises, laying a hand on Ethan's shoulder. "We wanted to say… it's okay. And you can do it again. If you need. Or want.”
It’s Ethan’s turn to blush.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
“You’re pissing me off,” Leon snaps, snatching the remote from Ethan’s hands. “We’re not watching The Art of Racing in the Rain again!”
“It’s a good fucking movie! At least I’m not like you, Mr. Creep, with all your horror movies-”
“Horror movies are good-”
“You have shit taste!”
“I have great taste!”
“You’re the one whose boyfriend is made of mold! You do not have good taste-”
“Stop arguing,” Chris interrupts, and steals the remote from Leon. “We’re watching the football game.”
Both Leon and Ethan groan in unison.
_____________________
Leon buries his head into the crook of Ethan’s neck, planting a sloppy kiss against the skin. “You're comfortable.”
“You’re heavy,” Ethan mutters, but doesn’t make any effort to remove Leon from atop him. “When ‘s Chris getting back?”
“Now. That’s why I woke you up.”
"Ruined my beauty sleep."
"Chris is more important."
Ethan wraps his arms around Leon in response and immediately dozes off again, little snores escaping him. It's honestly endearing, and Leon grins against his neck- all of Ethan's little mannerisms are just…
The click of the door startles him from his thoughts.
"Aren't you two a pretty sight," Chris comments as he steps into the bedroom. He stomps to the bed, reaching out and running a hand through Leon's hair. "Go to sleep. I'm going to shower."
"I missed you. Ethan did too, but he hasn't been sleeping well, so-"
"Hey," Chris assures, "it's okay. Go to sleep."
Leon tilts his head for a kiss; Chris eagerly complies, and then presses one to Ethan's forehead as well.
"Night," Leon whispers into the dark room. "Love you." He pauses before adding, "both of you," even though he knows Ethan isn't awake to hear.
________________
“I always kind of knew,” Ethan admits, rubbing his fingertips against the palm of Chris’ hand. It's soothing, and he lets out a content little sigh at the sensation. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, you can’t communicate for shit, but like… you cared. I could tell you cared.”
Chris glances away, eyes suspiciously shiny. “What? I have to be in love with someone to care?”
“No, it’s just… when I was dying. I think I knew.”
“I’m sorry,” Chris mutters, “it wasn’t professional of me.”
“It’s okay, Chris. I was kind of smitten since you showed up in Dulvey.”
“But Mia-”
“I loved Mia,” Ethan assures as he squirms into a better position. He pulls Chris into a soft kiss before leaning his forehead against the older man’s, “but I liked you anyway. Nothing would have become of us if I hadn’t died, you know?” A bitter laugh forces its way from his lips, and his gaze drifts to their tangled hands.
“I’m glad that you came back.”
“Me too,” Ethan whispers.
_____________________
"I want credit for when you guys get married," Rose announces at dinner one evening.
"We can't get married. We're three people," Ethan disagrees.
"That's lame. Why not?"
Chris shrugs, shoving a forkful of pasta into his mouth.
"Just how it is," Leon explains.
Rose scowls, but nods anyway.
"We're happy how we are," Ethan murmurs, patting her on the head awkwardly. "I don't mind." He slips into a seat beside Chris, leaning over to plant a kiss on his cheek.
"Whatever. I still want credit."
"Sure thing."
"Okay."
"Sounds good."
Rose beams.