Chapter Text
I think I'm dying.
Leon wasn't sure how he made it here, to Krauser’s farm, without skidding out on the pavement and dying. He might still die, though. He isn't sure yet.
The world—what little he could see of it through his foggy, tunneling vision—was a blur of painful color, highlighted by the sunlight filtering through the trees in skull-cracking white. His chest felt tight, and his stomach felt like a rock, and standing over him, Krauser is snapping in that angry-cause-I’m-worried tone that made Leon wish he had dog’s ears to pin back in shame and fear.
“—were you fucking thinking, Leon?” Krauser was saying, for the second, maybe third time. Maybe billionth time. Numbers were hard for Leon right now. “You could have been hit, you could have run off the fucking road! How could you have been so stupid? I would have fucking come and picked you up! You should know b—”
“I know,” Leon forced out. Even the subtle vibrations of his own voice sent his head spinning, and he choked, spitting onto the ground. It was closer than he expected, and it took Leon’s mind a long, slow moment to unravel the scrambled input he was attempting to make sense of.
His ass was firmly planted on cold wood… the deck, he was able to think. Krauser's deck, at Krauser’s house, and Krauser was right in front of him. Leon imagined the disappointment radiating off of Krauser in waves, which he quickly realized was a massive mistake. His aching mind unhelpfully latched onto the idea of waves, and now he felt like the world was shifting fluidly, back and forth and back and forth. Like a boat, or like a roller coaster, or like anything Leon hated.
“‘M sorry.” Leon attempted, but his face felt numb and his lips felt clumsy and he wasn't sure how well he was articulating anything. He wasn't done talking, damn it, but his body wasn't obeying him. All his stupid body was doing was hurting. And maybe dying.
“I n—needed to see you.” He slurred, staring down at the ground. Keeping his eyes open hurt, but closing them was like pressing the “on” switch of a dizzying carnival ride. Leon couldn't decide which was worse. “‘S really bad this time, sir.”
Sir caught Krauser’s ears, and chipped away at that misplaced anger he felt, revealing worry for Leon beneath it like an exposed nerve. He wasn't angry Leon had come here; there was a sick sense of satisfaction in his chest that the rookie wanted Krauser to keep him safe. He was angry that Leon had chanced a motorcycle ride, barely pulling up onto the gravel driveway before his migraine had exploded behind his eyes like a gunshot. He could have died out there, and that had terror pooling in Krauser’s gut.
Not that this didn't. Krauser had suspected for a while that Leon had lapsed back into his old habit of letting himself be consumed by stress and tension. He had stayed away longer, visited less, and snapped at any attempts to make him explain himself.
You're gonna hurt yourself, rookie, Krauser had hissed, before Leon had closed the door hard behind him.
“I just couldn't…could…fuck…” Leon's voice faded out like a dying radio, and Krauser sat beside him, settling a hand on his back to ground him.
“Shh, Leon.” Krauser soothed, his eyes following the hard line of Leon's back, the rigidity of his shoulders. Leon was coiled like a spring, had always been, ever since he was an actual rookie. It just built and built, and never released. Krauser never thought he would see a day when he was more relaxed than Leon.
“Needed you.” Leon mumbled, plus a few more words Krauser couldn't catch. Jesus, the kid was trembling, waves of chills like he had a fever. Krauser pressed his hand to Leon’s head, but it was clammy and cool.
“Well you got me, rookie.” Krauser answered, his brows furrowed deeply. Besides the couple of times he had had to tug Leon to the infirmary in the military, he had never seen Leon so incapacitated before. He wasn't sure if he should move him, get him somewhere warmer, or darker, at least. Maybe after he got sick, Krauser reasoned, which would be any moment, based on Leon’s waxy skin tone.
Sure enough, Leon's breath caught in his throat a few minutes later, and Krauser planted his hand on Leon's chest to hold him up as he vomited across the gravel. He rubbed his back with the other hand, murmuring that he should take it easy as Leon continued gagging sporadically.
Leon was silent as he finished vomiting, and if not for his slow movement to wipe his mouth, Krauser would have been worried that he passed out. As it was, Leon didn't look much better than before.
“Inside,” Krauser said, making an executive decision. There was nothing left in Leon's stomach to be worried about, and at least it would be darker in the comfort of Krauser's own room.
Leon got to his feet, Krauser gripping his arm securely, and despite Krauser’s assumption that Leon wouldn't be able to walk, the slimmer man successfully made his way inside.
“Need to sit.” Leon said hoarsely, steering for the couch as soon as they crossed the threshold of the comfortable cabin. He moaned out a protest when Krauser instead steered him for the hall.
“No. My bedroom,” Krauser said firmly, and Leon didn't protest as he walked him through the door. At least, the kid had the presence of mind to kick his shoes off before collapsing, facedown onto Krauser’s large mattress.
“Alright.” Krauser said, using that stern voice he knew Leon would always respond to. “I need you to tell me what to do for you, rookie.” He crossed the room, drawing the blackout curtains and plunging the room into darkness.
For the first time, Leon gave a shuddering sigh of relief, blinking and wincing even in the dimmest light. He curled on his side, pulling a handful of soft duvet over his face.
“Leon. Rookie. Answer me.”
Slowly, Leon shook his head. “Wait for it to pass,” he mumbled, muffled. At least, it was articulate. Mostly.
“No aspirin? Anything?” Krauser gritted his teeth as he received a shrug in reply. “Ice pack?”
“...Maybe. Dunno.”
Maybe was something, at least. Confident that Leon wouldn't be moving anywhere, Krauser left the room, determined to find something that would help.
When he returned, an icepack, a bottle of extra-strength aspirin and a cup of water in his hands, Leon had shifted to lay on his back, one hand on his stomach, the other over the pillow covering most of his head. His chest rose and fell slowly, but Krauser could tell it was a forced slowness.
“Here's the plan, rookie.” Krauser told him, speaking as quietly as he could. It still sounded too loud for the stillness of the room, but his voice would crack if he spoke any lower.
“You're going to take your wet clothes off, and take a couple aspirin before you settle down properly.” Krauser said authoritatively. The reminder that Leon was riding in the rain to get here, no matter how light the sprinkle was, sent another uncomfortable stab of fear-turned-anger into Krauser's gut. Damn Leon for being so careless. It made Krauser want to order him to run laps all over again. And then kiss him hard afterwards, just to remind Leon that he didn't have a choice in taking care of himself. To remind him that he was too valuable to be so stupid with his life.
“Leon—” Krauser began again, an edge in his tone, but broke off as the other man slowly lifted the pillow from his face.
Leon felt drunk, if being drunk also meant being in excruciating pain. He moved slowly, reflexively trying to mitigate the pain, even if nothing he did made it better or worse. He wasn't sure whether to be glad about the agony plateauing, at least for the moment. His head throbbed so badly that he felt like his eyes would fall out. Sitting up with a weak sound, Leon kept his eyelids shut as he peeled his leather jacket off, shoving it onto the ground. His pants were harder to maneuver off, the damp fabric clinging to his cold skin, but just as he had decided to give up, warm hands slid underneath his own, taking over.
Leon knew those hands well, and another blessed flood of relief loosened the tension in his chest as Krauser carefully undressed him, calloused palms squeezing tentatively at the muscle of Leon's legs. Leon didn't see it, or maybe wouldn't, but the tension in his body was unmistakable. Krauser frowned deeply as he dropped Leon’s wet jeans to the floor; the rain had truly soaked him, and he could imagine that Leon's tremors were in part due to the cold.
“You'll be warmest if I change everything.” Krauser told Leon, looking up at his face. His eyes were closed, but Krauser didn't need to see his eyes to read his expression. It stayed blank, consenting, but Leon was unwell, and Krauser wasn't going to guess.
“I’m going to need a verbal answer, rookie.”
Leon was lucid, aware of everything Krauser was doing, but the act of forcing words from his lips was very nearly out of his grasp. Still—his major had given an order, and he’d be damned if he wasn't going to answer.
“Y…yeah.” Leon murmured, letting his eyes flutter open for a brief moment. He caught a glimpse of Krauser, looking attentive and, Leon thought deliriously, adorable standing there at the foot of the bed. “‘M cold. Should probably get them off.”
“Alright. I’ll make it quick.” He didn't have to, not really—over the years, they had seen all of each other, and had long since dropped all pretense of modesty. But Krauser, for all of his rough edges, still had some sort of gentleman underneath it all.
Leon loved that about him. He loved a lot of things about him.
Krauser’s presence disappeared for a moment, and Leon shivered; the cabin was warm, but his skin was cold. Even if it wasn’t, he would be shivering regardless, pained tremors wracking his body and pulling at his sore muscles relentlessly. He was no longer certain he was dying, but he only felt marginally farther from it.
⁂
When Krauser returned, Leon had managed to pull his teeshirt off–a small victory. The damp, cold fabric now rested over Leon’s face, providing the barest of relief from the throbbing pain in his skull. He moaned when Krauser pulled the shirt away, even that small change of light enough to make the space behind his eyes crackle with hurt.
“Easy,” Krauser said, and Leon wasn’t sure whether to feel indignant about Krauser using the same tone of voice on him as he used on Betty, the nervous cow he’d recently taken in. “This is better.” Before Leon could force his brain to think on what this could possibly be, Krauser placed a malleable ice pack over his eyes, wrapped in a soft towel to mute the cold.
“Oh my God.” Leon raised a hand, gripping the ice pack like a lifeline and pressing it harder against his face as Krauser picked up the towel he had gotten, beginning to dry Leon’s legs and chest. True to his word, he removed Leon’s underwear quickly, drying his skin before slipping a pair of boxers onto him. Even laying down, Leon could tell from the way they sat low on his hips that they weren’t his own.
“Nothing helps, huh?” Krauser asked with a trace of amusement in his voice. “Lucky I decided to try anyway.” The soft duvet slipped out from underneath Leon’s body, and then draped over him, its warmth chasing away the worst of the trembling. The bed dipped as the larger man settled onto it beside Leon, and despite the ever-present pain that still threatened to split his skull, Leon found himself wishing, hoping that Krauser would touch him.
“Could barely think. I’m sorry.” Leon’s voice still wasn’t right, weak and sluggish, and Krauser could hear the way even just speaking used most of his energy up. He wanted to let his walls drop, wanted to give Leon a trace of that affection he was surely wanting, but not just yet. He still needed to do one last thing.
“Don’t be. Take this, though. No arguing.” Leon held out a hand obediently, and Krauser dropped two aspirin into it, sliding his arm underneath Leon in order to sit him up slightly. Still holding the icepack to his face, Leon tipped the pills into his mouth, and allowed Krauser to place the water glass in his hand. He swallowed the pills easily, his face paling a bit as the water hit his stomach uncomfortably, and Krauser lowered him back to the pillows slowly, setting the water on the nightstand.
“Maybe that’ll help, too.” Krauser teased, but Leon only hummed weakly in response and his soft smirk faded. Even if Leon hadn’t said it earlier, Krauser could feel in his bones that this migraine was worse than other ones. There was something that was wrong beneath it, and it set him on edge, not knowing what that something was. God damnit, if Leon was hurting, he needed to know.
With a start, he realized, that was why Leon had come here. To him. So he would know. So he would help.
Krauser looked down at Leon, too agonized and anxious to sleep, too hurt and exhausted to move or do anything else but lie there and take it. Affection and worry mingled in his chest, and he turned on his side, raising his hand to Leon’s face. The rookie’s expression twitched when Krauser’s palm settled against his cheek, but relaxed when Krauser’s thumb stroked the soft skin just beneath his eye, nearly purple with lack of sleep. Even beneath the pallor of being sick, beneath the stress of his migraine, Leon looked rough. Not-eating-and-sleeping rough. Krauser was certain that whatever had made Leon look like that was responsible for this migraine.
And you can’t do anything to help, his mind supplied unhelpfully, making Krauser sneer. You just have to sit here and watch him be in pain. Krauser began to draw his hand back, suddenly feeling like the gesture was silly, unhelpful, but Leon’s free hand closed around his wrist, freezing it in place.
“Please,” he mumbled, and for a moment Krauser was back in the military, staring down at a skinny-looking, infuriatingly-stubborn rookie that had just collapsed on the track, pleading with him in that same tone. The only thing missing now were those big, blue doe-eyes. “Please, Jack.”
Jesus fuck. Krauser felt lightheaded with a rush of emotion he couldn’t explain as his first name, strangely intimate, slipped past Leon’s lips. The kid was going to give him a heart attack somehow, one of these days.
Krauser’s hand returned to its place on Leon’s cheek, cradling his jaw like he was something delicate. Leon’s hand returned to its place on his stomach, content with that small touch alone and not needing anything more. He felt the bed shift beside him, but couldn’t spare the energy to think anything of it.
Lightly, Krauser’s lips ghosted over Leon’s temple, just above the icepack. His nose pressed into Leon’s hair as his lips pressed with slightly more pressure, a proper, meaningful kiss, before disappearing as he lifted his head. Leon’s measured breathing stuttered, and his exhale made a quiet sound that Krauser thought might have almost been a sob. Leon’s breathing became more strained for a long moment, and faster, but Krauser’s thumb was caressing his sharp, pretty-boy cheekbone again, and eventually he calmed.
Krauser waited until Leon’s breathing had changed, until he knew Leon was asleep, rather than only laying still. In the darkness of the room, to no one in particular–or so he told himself–he murmured, “I wish you would stay.”