A/N: This is a one-shot, but I may make one or two more chapters depending on the feedback I get. One of them may be about Chris' Christmas party (that should be fun).
Enjoy!
© Capcom. (I wish I owned Resident Evil. I'd bring Piers back.)
Snow crunched under your feet as you approached the clearing. The bare trees were silent, bending downwards slightly from last night's snow weighing down on them. No birds chirped, you guessed that they were probably all sleeping in their warm nests. Everything was still. Even in the serene surroundings your mind hadn't strayed from the thought of him. Piers Nivans. A few weeks ago, you, Piers, and Chris Redfield - your captain, had narrowly escaped death. The scenes of the past few weeks that were crammed in the back of your mind flowed forward as you walked:
The captain being grabbed by a huge B.O.W.
Piers helping saving him, but getting his arm cut off in the process.
Injecting himself to stay alive.
The three of you rushing to an escape pod.
Piers passing out, but you and the captain managing to keep him alive until the chopper came.
Piers being admitted to the hospital.
You had been told by the doctors that Piers wouldn't make it. There was no hope for him. They had operated on him for endless hours, but even after the operation, he never woke up. Probably wouldn't wake up ever again. They were able to extract the virus from his body completely, and fix his eye so that he would be able see out of it. They even saved most of his arm. But since the virus wasn't stimulating him anymore – and his body was already in a weakened state – he would die. Even though he wouldn't be able to see or hear you, the doctors let you visit him one last time before he made his passing. Taking hesitant steps, you had made your way to his room. Room A2. You slowly opened the door. Putting a hand to your mouth, you ran over to his bedside. Piers was so pale. Too pale. From what the doctors had stirred up, you though he'd look pretty bad. But in your eyes, he didn't. Piers was still as handsome as you remembered. The only difference was that his arm was mangled and one half of his face was deformed a little. You didn't care though. He was still the brave, heroic man you used to know. You touched his cheek, tears sliding effortlessly down yours, you kissed his forehead softly. "I know you can't hear me," you whispered into his ear, "but you did a very brave thing. You are the captain's hero. And mine." Letting yourself stare at him for a few moments more, you begun to close the door, but stopped in shock. You thought you saw his hand move. You pushed the ridiculous thought away as having an overactive imagination, but you waited to see if it would happen again. You wanted it to happen again. Then the corner of his mouth twitched slightly. That was it. You knew you hadn't imagined that. Without a word, you ran down the hallway, grabbing a doctor's arm and dragging him back towards the room, all the while frantically explaining what you had just witnessed.
A few days after that, Piers was released from the hospital. The captain drove him home.
"Looks like I can retire after all, right Piers?" He stole a glance at the man sitting the passenger seat, then snapped his eyes back to the road.
"I guess so, Captain."
"You have to get used to calling me Chris, Piers. Soon people will be calling you 'captain'."
"Right, Cap- ... Chris. Sorry, Cap- oh never mind." They looked away from each other for a split second, and then Chris slapped the back of Piers' neck, laughing loudly. After the side-splitting journey home, Chris got Piers comfortable in his living room. His favorite show was on, he had a bowl of steaming soup, a soft blanket was wrapped around him, and his arm felt better than he imagined it would. Just to be cautious, he still had a bottle of pain pills on the table next to him. Chris told Piers where he could find him if he wanted to visit him, and invited him to his upcoming Christmas party before leaving. A knock on the door sounded from the kitchen, and Piers sat up straighter and cranked down his television. "Who is it?" He said.
"It's me!" You said.
"_! You can come in; it's too cold out there to be standing on the porch."
Within a few moments, you were sitting beside him with a plate of cookies. You handed them to him. He smiled, gently tugging at the Saran wrap and smelling the air above the plate. "Mmm…smells delicious. You made these?" He looked up.
"Yeah. It took me forever to find the recipe, but Chris insisted on that particular kind. He said you'd love it."
"Well, I do! Thanks, _!"
"No problem. How's your arm?"
Piers lifted his arm from under the blanket and started flexing his muscles comically. "Feels great! I can practically do anything I want." His smiled wavered. "…How's my face look?"
You had guessed he'd be self-conscious about his appearance, and you didn't even know what to say. "It looks fine. Not half as bad as I was told it would."
"But it's still bad."
"No, Piers, it's not."
"I'm taking a walk."
You didn't stop him as he walked over to his coat tree, grabbed his scarf and coat, and walked out the door into the cold. You sighed, putting on your coat also, and waiting until you saw him disappear into the woods, then walked out of the door after him.
You snapped back to reality as you spotted Piers a few meters away sitting on a log, his back to you. His head was in his hands. Slowly, you walked over to him, resting a hand on his shoulder. He turned around and looked at you, patting the log. Not taking your eyes off of him, you sat down.
"Piers, I have to say something."
"Yes?"
"I don't care what you look like. You could have no arm and a glass eye and I wouldn't care. You are still the brave, heroic, and talented man you used to be – even if your appearance may have changed a little. You've still got your friends, too. Chris and I are here for you if you need some help. We've got your back, Piers. And I don't think that anyone would care what you look like, anyway. It's in the newspapers. You're a hero, Piers. We all respect you for that."
Piers sat for a second, mulling over what was just said. After a long silence, he finally responded. "Thanks. That means a lot to me, what you just said."
"You're welcom-"
You felt a pair of warm lips press against yours. Piers' hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer. Feeling the warmth of his body kept the cold, wintery air away. Your hands grasped a handful of his coat, and his lips pressed harder, melding over yours with practiced ease. Carefully, they pulled away, but his face was still very close to yours and his forehead was pressing against your bangs. It began to snow slightly. Some snowflakes fell, resting on Piers' light brown hair and his nose.
"_."
Your (e/c) eyes focused on his and you breathed, "Yes?"
"I love you."
You were thrilled. Piers had just said the three words you had been waiting to tell him for the longest time. He loved you.
"I…I love you too." You managed to squeak. He smiled, grabbed your hands and stood up. He weaved his fingers through yours, and you hoped that he would never let go, not in a thousand years. Soon, you were walking back to his house with your head resting on his shoulder, his arm around yours. Sitting on his couch together, he turned the TV back on. You watched random horror movies for the rest of the night, until you fell asleep with your head on his lap. Piers' eyelids were getting heavier, but he wanted to stay up a little longer to watch you sleep. You looked so beautiful. So peaceful. He stroked your (h/c) hair and caressed head. He slumped forward, falling into a restful sleep.
End note: How was it? Don't forget to leave a review. But please don't be ignorant – constructive criticism is allowed but absolutely NO flaming. Thanks! And yes, Piers is one of my favorite Resident Evil characters. And yes, I will be doing more of these - but I need some more time to get some ideas. Next should be one with Steve, Leon, Kevin, or one with Chris and Jill.
