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“I got a job offer today.“
The words are sleepy and slurred but Piers still sounds like he is thinking about it. Marc turns his head to look at his face which is resting half on his shoulder and half on his biceps and looks a bit surprised.
“But you have a job”, he mumbles a bit confused. His brain is still clouded from the activity of the last hours and he wades through the post-coital haze of his mind. He tightens the arm which isn’t immobilized by Piers’ head around his hip which is also lying only half on top of him. Piers always likes it best to lie half on top and half next to him. But who is Marc to complain about that if he has Piers this close to himself so that he has to entangle one leg with one of his own so that they have enough space on the single mattress.
“Mhm”, hums Piers as an answer and bites back a yawn. “For a new job”, he emphasizes and looks up at Marc’s questioning face after all.
“It’s a spot in the special unit of the BSAA.”
Marc’s eyebrows lift a bit more at that. Not because he didn’t understand but because he wants Piers to continue to share his thoughts. He doesn’t have to say anything to this yet.
“The captain of the team I would be assigned to spent a week with us and watched our training.”
Marc bites back a grin at that thought. He was once allowed to watch Piers and his team train and for him personally, it was very… appealing. Unfortunately the twitching of the corners of his mouth doesn’t go unnoticed and with a flick to his forehead his partner lets him know very quickly that this was not the direction his thoughts were meant to go. Maybe after this conversation.
“He wants me as a sniper in his own team. He gave me time to think about it, but I suppose I am going to take the offer tomorrow.”
Marc nods once to confirm that he understood. Of course, he has his own opinion on this.
He knows that the BSAA in itself is a special unit already. The ‘Bioterrorism Security Assessment Alliance‘ takes care of terroristic assaults where bio-weapons have been used. They execute dangerous operations in areas which have been contaminated and rid it of all traces to minimize the risk of the virus spreading. Piers told him this once and that is exactly why he doesn’t say anything right now. He knows that his boyfriend has always aimed for a higher purpose in life, that he strived to serve the greater good. He knew it after their first date (even though he didn’t even know it was a date at the time) and in the last months they have officially been together the thought that Piers was meant for this has tightened even more. When one came from a family where not only the father but the grand-father, too, had served in the military and as one of the youngest and most successful graduates of a military university, one’s life could only go this way.
“A special unit in a special unit”, he ponders instead and hopes that his boyfriend recognizes the hidden worry without him directly voicing it.
“Yeah”, Piers offers during another yawn and lays his head back on Marc’s shoulder.
The conversation seems to be over for him but Marc doesn’t want them to leave it at that, not like this, not today. Not without Piers knowing that he would never stand in his way - even though he has a different opinion on the matter, even though he doesn’t like that his boyfriend will be in mortal danger from the first day he joins this BSAA thing and that maybe he won’t even come back one day. He has to voice this fact that he just became aware of, but he doesn’t know how. They are not married, hell, they are not even together that long, but for Marc Piers is an important constant in his present life. Even though a few minutes ago, it was a pretty loose relationship in his eyes. They live in separate flats, see each other mostly on weekends where they basically just eat together, maybe watch a movie or TV and have sex. It’s something pretty normal to him. Not a very tight bond, but during the hours they share they belong together. But now with the potential danger of losing Piers and being unable to do even the slightest bit against it, maybe because he’s in another state or country or even on another continent and succumbing to his wounds, he becomes aware that he has to tell him before it is too late.
“You know that I am waiting here for you.”
Piers looks up and seems bewildered for a second, as if he really hadn’t expected this sentence. God, not even Marc would have expected it but his mouth was faster than his brain. He blames it like everything else on the slowly fading fog on his mind and doesn’t give a damn.
Piers examines his face as if searching for a reason behind this sentence in Marc’s pores but then he just smiles and exhales, almost relieved.
And Marc thinks that Piers probably didn’t realize either that Marc is as important to him as he is to Marc.
----------------------
The mission has been hard and more than once he was much too close to not being able to give cover to his captain or his teammates or being hit himself. But in the end they were able to contain the outbreak and call it another victory to the BSAA against bioterrorism.
With an exhausted sigh Piers searches for his apartment key in his bag. All he wants now after this arduous weekend is to take a hot bath and maybe even fall asleep in it. He did get rid of his dirty mission clothes at headquarters and took a quick shower there but that is not in any way comparable to slipping into hot water and letting it soothe away all the tension, the scratches and the slight pain. A brief smile pulls on his lips at that thought and stays there when he finally finds the key in one of his pockets. Just as he wants to slide it in the lock, the door opens by itself and reveals Marc. Marc, who’s confused face rapidly changes from astonished to happily surprised in two seconds flat and Piers can’t do much before he is pulled into a tight hug.
“Marc”, he manages to utter before his boyfriend lets go.
“What are you doing here?”
But Marc just looks at him, smiles and seems relieved after he has looked at Piers from head to toe, probably to check if something became amiss at the last mission. A legitimate concern, Piers cannot stop himself from thinking, remembering the other members from his team who weren’t so lucky in past missions. If you have to deal with zombies, B.O.W.’s and other monsters you could easily lose a limb or your life if you weren’t careful or trained well enough. He was fortunate to be spared this honor until now and if he had a say in this he’d never want to experience this arguable pleasure.
“I didn’t know when you’d be back”, answered the dark haired man, still smiling, even though a little apologetic now. “That’s why I came by now and then.”
‘Ah’, Piers thinks while stepping further into the flat and closing the door behind himself. ‘Maybe I shouldn’t have given him the spare key after all.’
“I mean”, Marc continues and starts scratching at the back of his neck, probably feeling a little embarrassed. “Not even your parents know exactly when your missions end or start…”
Piers looks at him but doesn’t know what to say to that. He doesn’t think it necessary to inform his parents of his mission plans. Sometimes weeks go by where he is away, followed by a month where he doesn’t have more to do than drive to the BSAA headquarters and meet up with the other members of his team to train and educate themselves.
Before he was assigned to the BSAA he had more regulated working hours, though not much more, but there he let Marc know if he was free to meet up. In addition, those had been the early days of their relationship which made it a bit more plausible to him to keep in closer contact. But now…
“I missed you.”
Piers looks up into the taller man’s face as he hears that. He hardly noticed that he let his eyes roam when he thought about all of this. He smiles briefly and it makes Marc relax a bit more.
“Me too”, he admits and realizes that he means it. The other man had become part of his life outside of the missions without him becoming aware. He almost belongs to this flat which should be dusty and stuffy without Piers’ regular attendance but isn’t because of Marc’s. He really must have come by a few times. Just to wait for him.
His stomach cramps at the thought of that.
Marc smiles at him again which doesn’t make it easier on Piers. He breaks the eye contact by putting his sports bag in which he keeps his dirty mission clothes and a few of the personal belongings he brings to every operation on the floor and pulling off his jacket.
“I was just starting to make dinner”, Marc continues, still looking at him. “I bought enough for two. I’m sure you’re hungry.”
Piers nods, taken by surprise, but he really is hungry. He just didn’t notice until now because he was so exhausted. Marc’s presence let him forget that for a second and he pulls a face at that. But before he finds the time to think about it, he looks up again and conceals his worries with another smile. And if Marc can look behind his façade he at least doesn’t let it show. Instead he smiles back and starts the short journey into the kitchen.
Piers doesn’t follow, leans against the wall instead and lets his head fall back against it, feeling the exhaustion creeping back into his body. He sighs again while listening to Marc rummaging around the cupboards in his kitchen. He thought about it, to be honest not thoroughly because he didn’t find the time but that is just another point that tells him that he really has to do what he is about to do next. He cannot in good conscience leave it like this.
He pushes off the wall and goes to the kitchen after all where Marc has already lined up all ingredients for spaghetti with meat balls and throws him a quick glance when he enters. Piers tries for a second to put the conversation off but he cannot postpone it, no matter how tired or hungry he is or how good it feels to have somebody here with him who looks out for him. He feels like a child being taken care of by its parents only worse. Because he is no child and he can’t give back enough.
“Marc, wait”, he starts and stops immediately to let his boyfriend turn to him. But he doesn’t turn, just hums his acknowledgement even though he continues his actions.
Piers clenches his teeth and takes the three steps that bring him to Marc’s side whose arm he catches as he reaches for one of the pots.
“What?” he simply asks a little bemused and smiles at him. And Piers has to look away because this only makes it so much harder on him.
“I can’t do this”, he manages to get out after a few seconds and looks at the onions on the counter.
Marc briefly bursts out laughing and kisses him on the cheek. “That’s why I am cooking right now”, he says in an attempt to joke but Piers is not in the mood for funny.
“No, listen!” he tries more resolute, looks back up in Marc’s face and pulls once more on the arm still in his grasp. Now the older guy notices that something is wrong and nods once, shifts his weight from one leg to the other and looks attentively at Piers.
“I can’t do this anymore”, Piers says again and looks tenaciously at Marc. But his partner doesn’t understand or doesn’t want to and shrugs his shoulders.
“You already said that but what do you really mean?”
He sounds irritated, maybe because he could already guess which direction this conversation is going but disavows it still.
“All of this”, Piers carries on not very elaborately but he doesn’t let himself be interrupted by Marc.
“I don't want you to waste your life because of me.”
There’s silence in the flat for a little while and the two inhabitants only look into each other’s eyes, resolutely, one determined, one rather baffled.
“What the hell do you-… ,” Marc starts but Piers cuts him short.
“I don't want you to wait here for me in the faint hope that I could turn up some time”, he elaborates and lets go of Marc’s arm and takes a step back. The silent message behind these words is a different one, but Marc, who asked himself this question since the beginning, recognizes it immediately and with such a force as if Piers had hit him in the face with it. He probably looks the part, too, because his counterpart looks apologetic all of a sudden. Marc doesn’t want the pity, though, doesn’t want to hear the words that Piers will inevitably say if he stays, so he nods with gritted teeth and stalks past Piers out of the flat. He hears them regardless, when Piers mutters them more to himself before the door closes on him and he kicks the wall outside because he should have known that it would happen eventually.
“Because maybe I won't come back some day.”
------------
“He told me to tell you personally.”
The man standing in the doorway is Chris Redfield. He knows it so well because he is Piers’ Captain. Was. And he looked up to him. Piers once showed him a photo of the whole team, but every time he had spoken of his captain Marc could see the short glistening in his eyes. Adoration, loyalty and unlimited trust set in this man, his beliefs and skills. Piers had idolized him.
And now this exact idol tells him that his boyfriend had died. To save the world.
Marc just looks at him, speechless. A thousand different thoughts and feelings are buzzing through his head and his gut and he doesn’t know which ones to utter first.
He is angry at the man in front of him. The captain who let his subordinate die in his place even though he should have protected him.
He is disappointed by this man and by himself as well because he could not do anything to change his friend’s fate.
He is sad, so incredibly sad, because he will never see Piers again. Not his honest smile, his brown eyes. Never hear his voice again, which was so deep but youthful at the same time and fit him so well.
He hits rock bottom because the last thing he said to Piers wasn’t meant the way it was said and because he never told him that he loved him.
But he doesn't say any of these things and just looks into the blue eyes of the man standing in front of him, who looks so infinitely sorrowful and broken that even Marc can still feel it. And he cannot bear that this adds onto his own feelings.
He averts his eyes, hangs his head and hardly registers that he nods curtly and breathes in deep. He obstinately stares on the ground, because he knows if he closes his eyes or blinks he will see Piers’ face and everything would crash.
“He was a hero.”
The older man’s words are like the last needle that fits into the pincushion that was his heart only a few minutes ago and his head jerks up, not only because of the pain. He glares at Chris and can’t hold himself back to spit out the first sentence that comes to mind immediately.
“He was my boyfriend!”
There lies so much bitterness and anger in these words that Marc is disgusted by himself. And he wants to scream and cry and curse the world which Piers saved with his heroic act. It seems to him it is now worth nothing anymore without the young man in it.
Chris still looks tenaciously at him but the pitiful streak in his features is almost gone now. He takes something out of his pocket and starts to speak again.
“He talked about you once”, Mark hears him say with an almost nostalgic feeling over the sound of the rushing blood in his ears. He clutches something in his hand which he holds out to Mark now.
“It wasn’t much but it was clear you meant a lot to him.”
Marc bites his lower lip and looks at the hand extended to him. But once he recognizes what it is Chris wants to give him, there is no pain avoidance tactic strong enough. The BSAA batch is dirty and stained with blood but even without the next offered sentence Marc would have known that it belonged to Piers.
“He would have wanted you to have it.”
Later, when he is no longer clinging to the little piece of cloth that seems to be everything left of his boyfriend and his tears have run dry enough that he can at least see a bit more clear, Chris tells him that he wanted to pass his position as team captain to Piers. That he wanted to retire and that it was Piers’ last wish that he would never give up. Only then he understands a little better what his boyfriend saw in the man and swears to himself that he will try so that someday he may be able to forgive him.