Title: A Home At The End Of The World

Fandom: Resident Evil

Pairing: Carlos/Mikey

Rating:T for this part

I bring yet another Resident Evil: Extinction fic with me in honor of the movie coming out last week. This will be a small series (probably 5 chapters or so) and I really hope you'll enjoy it because there's not enough RE slash out there. Apologies to the cannon lovers but there's not a big selection of men for me to slash in this fandom.

Screams, both angry, and blood curling filled the air around him as he ran. His legs burned with strain and the skin of his hands seamed to burn from all of the dried blood staining their pale length. His feet blindly carried him inside a dark building— he didn't care about the sudden absence of light, only that the walls would provide temporary shelter from the creatures he was running from— and his hands also acted on their own accord by pulling the door shut and bolting it afterwards.

His eyes briefly glanced around the small space he had sealed himself in, it seemed to be a small storage house for computers and let out a small sigh of relief when he didn't see any movement. A loud bang resonated from the barred door behind him, immediately drawing his attention back to the door and away from the many shelves and dark spaces behind him.

The door rattled loudly but didn't show any signs of giving under the assault of the monsters that had chased him here. Something chimed on the floor behind him but his ears didn't pick up the sound in time before a rotting, grease stained arm slid roughly under his neck and pulled him off his feet. His screams were drowned out by a deep, animalistic growl and yellow and dark red stained teeth sunk into his shoulder with a painful chomp.

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With a start, Mike bolted upright and felt himself fall off the side of his bunk in the process. He landed heavily on the metal floor of his van with a thud, feeling his shoulder give under his full weight.

"Fuck…"

He regretted his yelp the moment he uttered it because the sounds of someone shifting around in the bed behind him soon reached his ears.

"Mikey? Shit—"

A small thud of feet hitting the floor followed the voice and Mike bit into his lip in order to keep the rest of his pained groans silent, not wanting worry the man behind him further.

"I'm alright."

His assurance was ignored and soon he was pulled into a sitting position by a pair of well-muscled arms, the pair of arms that he'd grown to know so well over the past handful of months. The hands moved up his arm gently, lightly feeling the red area where he landed on and moved up to the side of his head not long after wards.

"Jesus you took a hard fall, I told you not to put that thing so high." The man sitting on the floor next to him mumbled, his voice still thick with sleep.

"I'm fine." The stubborn Aussie replied.

"Right." Carlos snorted, his fingers still feeling the side of his partner's head. "Nothing's broken at least."

"Well, that's a relief."

Carlos moved his gaze to the Australian's face; his eyes almost black looking in the dim lighting of the van. They stared into Mike's blue ones for a few seconds, making the younger male squirm mentally under their glare before the older man broke the thick silence that was starting to form in the air around them.

"Another nightmare?"

The blonde merely nodded and turned his head away, fearing that the images from his dream would be replayed in his eyes for the other man to see. It wasn't the first time he had one so vivid it felt real and it wasn't the first time his dreams or the aftershocks had awoken the Brazilian from his sleep. However, it didn't make him feel any less guilty or ashamed. Ever since Carlos started sleeping in his van Mike had tried his damn hardest to keep his nightmares a secret from the other man but it only took a few nights before Carlos was awoken violently from one of his night terrors by a fist flying into his gut. Mike felt guilty over that for a week.

"Here, let's get you off the floor." Carlos sighed as he looped his large hands under Mike's arms and hauled the smaller man to his feet with a strong pull.

Mikey silently obeyed, too shaken up from his dream to fight as he was directed back towards his bunk. He mentally growled when Carlos tried to help him climb the few feet to the bed and managed to groggily climb to its surface himself. The Brazilian merely sighed and climbed in after him, one of his large arms gently curling around Mike's bare waste.

"I don't suppose you care to tell me what this one was about?"

Mike's eyes gazed at the wall of his van half-heartedly and after a few seconds, he shook his head. The images still felt too to real him to relive them and he wasn't in any mood to share them, especially with his lover.

"Fine." Carlos sighed, molding his body closer to the Australian's; he'd given up on trying to force the blonde to talk about his dreams long ago.

With a small sigh, Carlos settled his head against one of the bed's makeshift pillows and gazed at the cabin's roof, his ears carefully alert for any tell-tell sings of anything moving outside of the van and also any movements from his partner. Unfortunately, the tears that fell from Mike's watery eyes made no sound and went unnoticed in the silence of the enclosed van.