Okay, so this had to be done for today. All the feels, all the feels! :c I want my baby to come back. ;-;

"Piers! No, don't do this! Open the door!"

Trapped.

"Goddamn it! Listen to me!"

Locked away and enclosed in a small place, there was little more that Chris could do than helplessly observe from the inside of the pod with meaty fists that pounded relentlessly against the glass wall, the only thing separating him from what mattered the most. He couldn't do this, couldn't watch as another life was thrown to the slaughter; all for him. Why was he so goddamn important? Maybe the world needed a hero, but right there, watching from behind the see through barrier, Chris couldn't bring himself to care about anything outside of that moment.

A hero.

Well, the world would always need one. But Chris... Chris just needed Piers, and he had never been able to tell him that.

"We can still both get outta here! There's still time!"

Piers was on the move, stumbling away to the side of the pod where Chris could hardly see.

"What are you doing?"

No, no, no, not like this! It wasn't happening, he wasn't trying to-

"No, Piers, don't!" Chris tried again, desperate to get through to the younger man. "You can still make it out!"

Piers never listened, never stopped what he was doing until the pod was set to take off.

"Goddamn it, Piers!"

It didn't matter how much Chris had pounded or begged; how he screamed at Piers from behind the barrier. He wanted out, he wanted to help... He just wanted Piers. That wasn't how things would end, it couldn't be!

"No!"

Chris couldn't watch it, yet he couldn't look away.

"Piers! Open the goddamn door - that's an order!"

Chris didn't see a monster the more he stared out from inside that pod, brown eyes widened and worried, frantic and on the verge of wetting themselves over with tears. What he saw, was the man who'd pulled him to his feet, brought him back and took care of him. Piers was the real hero. It was him that the world needed. Chris just needed him more.

There were no words from the ace, just a silent gaze aimed in his Captain's direction. Knowing eyes sought to reassure him, to comfort him; but the longer Chris stared back into mismatched orbs, the more he found himself breaking.

"No..."

No, not after all they'd been through. It couldn't end this way, not for Piers.

He was standing there, perfectly calm as though the facility wasn't collapsing around his ears. So brave, always so goddamn brave. That look in his eye... Piers knew what he had done, knew he would die, and he was comfortable with that.

Because Chris would live.

So he smiled - a small curl, even through all the pain, to tell Chris that everything would be okay.

It's okay, it's okay...

But Chris was in a panic.

Please, please, please...

The words repeated in the Captain's head like some sort of mantra. It couldn't be happening, not all over again, not with Piers. He couldn't do this, he couldn't do this, he couldn't, couldn't, damn it, he couldn't-

But then the pod was moving, shooting him backwards and away from Piers who just stood there; unmoving, while staring. So confident, so sure, so satisfied that his Captain would be okay. Chris didn't care that he was alive, didn't care that he'd been saved again - not when the cost was his own sanity as his heart crumpled itself into pieces.

"Piers!"

It was a last cry, one last scream as Piers faded from view.

Forever.

No, no, no...

How could Piers have done that? How could he have been so brave, so damn heroic and selfless? How could he have left Chris behind in a world without him?

The Captain's heart was racing, pounding up a storm that roared in his ears and threatened to burst. Chris wished it would so as to spare him from the lifetime of pain, of loneliness - of an existence without the one man he so desperately needed to keep him stable, to keep him sane.

Chris couldn't take his eyes off the facility below, vision clouding as tears threatened to slip through. He didn't care anymore about holding them back; not when he couldn't bring himself to confess, even in a situation as dire as the one they'd faced.

Piers... I'm so sorry.

Brown eyes shut closed, allowing salty rivulets to drip from their corners where they left warm trails behind in their wake. Chris never bothered to hide them, never made a move to wipe them away.

But then something was screeching, howling as it burst free and swam through the water towards him. His eyes snapped open, watching helplessly as Haos came closer, oversized hands latching onto the pod to cause the lighting within to flicker.

No... Not after everything that happened, not after what Piers had done. Would it really end so coldly? It would be fitting that they both died there... But Chris had only one regret; and that was that they hadn't been together in their final moments.

Yet, it didn't happen. There was a build up of electricity from below inside the shaft whence he'd come... Could it have been...?

The blast shot forward, sending tendrils of light in a spiral toward Haos where they wrapped around him in an iron grip that clenched until he exploded, chunks and fleshy bits left to float in the depths of the ocean as the facility followed behind, taking Piers with it. Chris was helpless to do anything but watch from within the confines of the glass that entrapped him, brown eyes gazed at the sight until he was lifted too far out of view.

That was his breaking point, the moment everything seeped in.

Chris collapsed against one of the walls of the pod where he slid down the frame, knees pulled tight to his chest with elbows resting atop them. His head dipped forward into the palms of his hands, eyes squeezed closed as new streams of tears pushed their way out.

Chris Redfield was finally at his limit.

He'd fallen far after what happened in Edonia, even became a mess over it. But Chris had never cried, never begged, never pleaded like he did just then, not since he was little more than a baby in his mother's arms. Even after she passed with his father, he kept strong. For Claire. But now... His resolve crumbled to shards; his heart was a beating mess that pumped out of tune due to the missing piece at its core.

Chris didn't care what he looked like. Didn't care that he was still sobbing outright even as the pod broke the surface and opened. He hardly paid attention to the helicopter that stumbled upon him some time later - he hadn't even responded to the voices over the radio.

All that mattered to him then had been that Piers was gone, and Chris had never dared to tell him how he'd felt.

He wished he could go back. With all of his heart, he wanted to. But hope was a fragile thing, and it didn't take much to crush it all away with the cold, hard, reality and the truth it brought.

Chris had hardly noticed when the men had come, pulling at his shoulders as they searched for a response.

"Captain Redfield? Captain Redfield!"

His name was repeated multiple times, but he didn't care. He wasn't even aware when they'd dragged him into the helicopter and took him back to base.

The more Chris cried, another piece of his heart melted away into mush.

Days had passed. Weeks. Eventually, it was months.

Chris was never the same. Not after that day.

July 1st, 2013.

He'd never forget it. Never forget the man who'd saved his life, and damned him to living in a world without the person he'd cherished the most.

Chris had been given time off. A few days, just to ease things over after a particularly difficult mission. He'd have rather stayed, rather worked, rather kept his mind busy. But then they made it an order, and he'd done it. He spent most of the time in front of his fireplace, watching the flames flicker and dance as they popped and crackled with life. So beautiful, so dangerous. Chris had felt like his heart was on fire since that day, forever burning away at his core with a flame that could never be extinguished. It burnt. It hurt. It scorched his insides.

Eventually, Chris had grown used to the ache, a dull replacement that was always hovering around him to cover all the places that the people and things he'd ever cared about once lived in. It was killing him. A slow, painful death. But the Captain welcomed it as brown eyes watched the flickering lights of oranges and reds and yellow hues as they licked at the air. Chris would always observe them as they danced to a nearly silent song, waving at him in a rhythm that always changed. He'd only ever move when he felt as though his body would give out, in which case he would force himself upstairs to the bedroom and settle for watching the shadows at the ceiling instead. The nightmares were always the same, just as haunting as the last each day. But it was the only time he'd ever see Piers again, the only time he'd see that perfect smile or hear that soft laugh-

There was a bang from somewhere downstairs, and Chris had thought it sounded like the front door. He found himself debating on whether it was even worth the bother of dragging himself out of bed... But, in the end he reconsidered and threw the sheets aside. He grabbed the sidearm he always kept at his bedside table, flipping the safety off with a finger as he slid out of the bedroom and began a slow pace down the stairs. He saw lights as he rounded the corner, flashing wildly in a blue hue, so dissimilar to the colors of fire he'd normally witness painting themselves over the walls. Chris stepped forward, gun raised as he sought to uncover whatever was responsible for it-

But then he'd heard a soft groan. Hurt. Familiar.

There was another spark, and Chris was stepping closer. One foot after the other had his weapon lowering until it scattered to the floor at his feet.

There was an image, a figure of a man, that was the source of all the blue. It wasn't fire that skittered across the walls - it was electricity. Blue, familiar electricity that sparked around the frame of a body he knew well.

Chris stopped breathing as the shadow straightened.

"Piers."

There was a small shuffle, and the figure turned. Chris hadn't been seeing things. It was his sniper. His ace. His Piers.

On July 1st, 2013, Chris Redfield thought all the tears had run themselves dry. But there, on that day and in that moment, they all came flooding back. Chris threw himself forward, collapsing to his knees in front of Piers where he tossed his arms around the younger man's waist, head buried against the skin of his abdomen, even as scarred and mutated as it was. He openly sobbed, body shaking as though he was afraid the image would disappear.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

He felt a hand rub itself over the plain of his neck; normal, human. Then a second at his back; thick, shimmering, heavy and mutated. Chris didn't care. He wanted it, all of it - as long as it was a part of Piers.

"I love you," Chris finally admitted, clutching at the body he held himself against. "I love you so damn much. I'm sorry I never said it. Sorry I never told you sooner. Just don't leave... Don't leave me behind again." He mumbled in a rant, words slightly muffled against the remnants of clothing dangling from the sniper's chest.

But Piers had heard, and he stayed like that holding Chris, even after all the tears had slowed to a stop.