Seasons Die Off One By One

Chapter 24 - Past (1998)

"What do you mean Claire left?" Chris asks as he lets his hand drop down to his side, the paint roller smearing light blue paint on his already ruined jeans. He spares a glance around the room, confirming that yes in fact his baby sister is gone, her brush left on the roller try on the floor by the adjacent wall.

"She said she had something to do and took off," Piers shrugs from the his spot a little further down from the marksman, bending down to dip his brush in the paint before carefully painting around the window.

Chris' lips tug into a small frown. It had been Claire's idea to remodel Barry's guest room for Sherry. It had plain white walls before, Claire choosing light blue on the knowledge that it's Sherry's favorite color. Claire found something else more important? If she opted out of attending the Fall semester of college for the blonde girl, then she'd better damn well dedicate herself. Moreover, she hadn't even said a word to him and just left.

It took a lot of persuasion from Barry's part to convince his wife to take in Sherry. Kathy felt bad for the girl and wanted the best for her, but to take in another child? She hadn't been so keen on the idea, but Barry somehow worked his magic. That or Polly really liked the idea of having another sister closer to her age. Moira's opinion on the new addition to the family is still unclear.

Three months. It's been three months since the incident and Moira still hasn't gotten over it. No one really expects her to, not when she clearly places so much blame on herself. Not when she had been shaken up to the point where she had practically shut down on everyone and everything. It doesn't help that Barry and Kathy can't help their own feelings of blame directed towards her. Thus, Moira hides away in her room most of the time.

The leaves have already begun to fall off the trees, the cold settling in an early warning of a particularly cold winter. Chris sniffles, already dreading the flu season. It's November and yet he's already got a runny nose.

"Don't worry so much," Piers grins, dipping his finger in the paint before he steps towards his boyfriend and smears it on the tip of his nose.

Chris tries to duck away, but it's too late, the Sniper's grin widening in response. The older man raises a brow challengingly, Piers quick to understand as he ducks down to dip his finger into the paint again just as Chris leaps forward and wraps an arm around the younger man's waist, pulling him up and away. Piers laughs, but Chris had pulled him away too late, his fingers coated in light blue paint finding the marksman's cheek, smearing it across his skin.

"That's the game you wanna play?" the older man chuckles, brandishing the paint roller he still has in his grip, prompting the Sniper to gasp dramatically and squirm in his hold.

"Chris," Barry's deep baritone rings out from downstairs. "That doesn't sound like painting."

"Damn, his dad senses must be tingling," Chris scoffs, not releasing Piers in favor of dipping his head and planting a kiss on the nape of his neck.

The Sniper nods, leaning back into Chris' firm chest, "Barry's a good dad, isn't he?"

"Yeah, I really think he is," the marksman smiles fondly, his wistful eyes looking at something the Ace can't see. Barry may not know it, but he's a solid foundation in Chris' young life. Chris had lost his own parents at a young age. "And yours?" Chris suddenly asks, attention back on Piers.

"Hm?"

"Your dad. Your parents," the marksman clarifies.

"Oh, um, what about 'em?" Piers mutters, stepping away from the older man.

Chris raises an eyebrow at his boyfriend, "They're still around aren't they? You don't stay in contact with them?"

Piers purses his lips, the silence enough to make Chris regret asking as the Sniper turns back to dip his brush in the paint. "Not really," the younger man shrugs, but the marksman can see the guarded look in those hazel orbs.

Piers doesn't talk about his parents. Doesn't mention them at all. The only thing he knows about them is that Piers' family has a long standing history in the military and that's only because the detail had been mentioned when the Sniper had first joined S.T.A.R.S. Chris can't believe that it took his boyfriend's dejected look on the topic to realize that fact.

If Piers doesn't mention his parents to anyone, not even his own boyfriend, then do his parents even know much about what their son has been up to?

That line of thought sparks another question that Chris can't help but voice, "Your parents don't know about me, do they?"

The Sniper is silent, staring at the fresh paint dry on the wall for a few moments before he answers, "No."

Chris slowly nods, deciding not to push it. The questions are there. He wants to know more. He wants to know everything about his lover, but the shift in the Sniper's mood is enough indication to the marksman that the topic of his parents isn't welcomed.

"Piers . . ."

"It's fine, alright?" the younger man tries to assure, turning to face his boyfriend, meeting his eyes.

"I'm not gonna pry," Chris states, brushing his fingers on Piers' jaw. "I just want you to know that I'm here, alright?"

Piers nods, silently grateful for his boyfriend's support as he leans into the marksman's touch.

0o0

It's a complex structure, the high fence and watchtowers ensuring that no one could get out. One step at a time, she walks up to the entrance, red bangs falling across her eyes as she confidently pushes the door open and steps into the cool lobby.

It's the first time Claire Redfield has set foot in a prison and something tells her it might not be her last, all for a guy that took a bullet for her, although the circumstances beg to differ. But the redhead can't help it, knowing that she needs to see Steve - talk to him. Find out why. It's the only way she'd be able to put the horrible incident behind her and move on.

Regardless of her reasons, one thing is for sure, if Chris ever finds out she snuck out to visit Steve, she'd be in big trouble. The simple solution: he doesn't ever need to know. This needs to be a one time thing. For answers. For her. For Sherry.

With that resolution in mind, Claire steps up to the front desk, "I'm here to see Steve Burnside."

For a complex building, it's pretty barren and stale. Plain walls lining the halls as Claire is led into a room and instructed to sit at one of the booths. She does, patient as can be as the doors beyond the thick glass separating visitors from prisoners open, two guards bringing in a Steve in handcuffs.

The young man drags his feet, head hanging low as the metal cuffs bouncing off his legs as he's seated across from Claire. His dark blonde hair falls across his eyes, concealing them from the redhead and she sees the moment he takes a deep breath before finally lifting his head. He looks tired, worn almost. Rushed to prison right after recovering from a gunshot wound would do that to a person, Claire supposes.

The younger Redfield reaches for the phone, Steve watching her for a moment before he does the same, putting the receiver to his ear.

Claire purses her lips, measuring the strength of her voice before she voices her one and only question, "Why?"

Steve is silent for a few minutes, meeting Claire's blue eyes before he finally speaks, "If you're asking whether I knew you'd be there, I didn't. It wasn't supposed to happen that way. No one was supposed to get hurt, much less . . . much less . . ." He trails off, eyes averting to the side as he bites down on his bottom tip.

"Why?"

It's the only word the redhead has to say, but Steve understands loud and clear, "Money. The Birkins are, were, loaded." He corrects himself, the pain readable on his face. The regret. "Supposed to just be a burglary, but they were home and . . ." You were there too.

The redhead doesn't feel sorry for him. Sherry's parents are dead and no amount of regret will bring them back.

Steve must be able to tell from Claire's steely gaze, speaking up again, "I swear, the plan was never to hurt anyone. I didn't want to - would never . . . I'm sorry. I really am."

And she believes him. Believes he never meant to hurt anyone. That he's sorry. But that changes nothing. Nothing at all.

0o0

Chris can't get Piers out of his head. Granted the Ace is always on his mind in one way or another, but ever since that day last week at Barry's, a hint of concern accompanies the thoughts of his boyfriend.

Is there a reason Piers hasn't mentioned him to his parents? Does he think they won't approve of their son's boyfriend? Of his gender? Those thoughts don't really bother the marksman, especially since Piers hasn't brought up the topic of his parents since long before they even got together. What bothers Chris is the concern over what could make the Sniper so distant from his parents. Sure, a lot of people move away from their parents. Leave them behind as they form a new life, but they will always be a part of Piers, and as long as they are, then Chris wants to know.

Maybe it's nothing. Maybe it's something. Claire approves of Piers. Chris supposes he just wants the approval of Piers' parents. There is one thing the marksman is sure of, however, and it's that the Ace is avoiding anything to do with his parents.

Wet fingers tap at Chris' cheek, drawing him out of his thoughts as he blinks in an attempt to focus on the young man leaning against his chest. The marksman shifts, feeling his back protest as he sits up from the tub in an attempt to position himself, water spilling over the side of the tub as he also ends up jostling the Sniper nestled between his legs. Piers lets him, sitting up to make it easier for Chris before the older man reaches forward and pulls his boyfriend to lay on top of him again, knees drawn up on either side of the younger man's body as Piers rests his head against the marksman's chest.

The water is still warm, Chris only having been spacing out for no more than a few minutes, but it has been enough for Piers to notice his boyfriend hadn't been paying attention to him, head tilted back to reveal furrowed brows and pouty lips.

"You didn't hear what I was saying, did you?" Piers inquires, hazel locking with blue and Chris knows he can't deny it.

Tilting his head down, the marksman buries his nose in Piers' damp hair, the scent from the lavender shampoo strong and thick from having been recently washed. "To be fair, you're distracting," the older man grins, gaze taking in the bare body lying on top of his, wet and smooth and just downright sinful. "More so like this."

Piers snorts, hands dipping under the water before he lets his fingers glide up Chris' thighs on either side of him, "Nice try."

The marksman can't stop the chuckle that escapes his lips in response, "Honestly?"

"Honestly," the younger man nods.

"Thinking 'bout you and your parents," Chris admits, lifting his arms from where they had been resting on the edge of the tub to lay them across his boyfriends chest, enveloping and pulling him close. "You never talk about them. At all."

Piers is silent for a moment before he lets his head tilt to the side, hazel fixed on the shower tiles, "You wanna talk about that now?"

"Will we ever?" the marksman pushes. The Sniper shifts in Chris' hold and the older man can see the tension set in his boyfriend's jaw. Sighing softly, the older man tries a different approach, "What are you scared of?"

Piers shifts in Chris' hold again, but doesn't make any attempt to move away. "I'm not scared," the younger man answers.

"Then what is it?"

"It's nothing, Chris. It really isn't. You're making this much bigger than it really is," the Sniper mutters in response, hazel still trained on the shower tiles.

Chris lets the silence settle around them for a few minutes before he speaks up again, "Come with me."

"Hm?"

"Come with me," the older man says again, just as unwavering as the first time.

Piers shifts, letting his head fall back on Chris' shoulder so that hazel can meet blue, "Where?"

"I wanna take you somewhere," the marksman simply offers, Piers silently blinking up at him, brows furrowing for a moment before he nods.

"Ok."

0o0

They take Claire's bike, Piers burying his face into Chris' back as they weave in and out of traffic, arms wound tight around his boyfriend's waist. Of all the places the Sniper had thought, a kids play zone had not been one of them. During the day, it's abundant with children running around and laughing, but during the night, it looks like a house of horrors.

A shiver runs down Piers back as he slips off the bike, Chris dismounting as well before guiding it the side of building. He makes sure it's properly stationed before he glances over at the Ace and gestures for him to follow. Piers follows his boyfriend through a narrow alley to the back of the building where Chris walks up to the back door.

"I had to work here for a while after I left the Air Force. Anything to get some money coming in," Chris starts explaining nonchalantly as if it's perfectly normal to take your boyfriend to a play zone late at night and try to break in. Wait, break in?

Chris pulls the door open with a little force, the metal scraping the concrete and sounding loud in the quiet of the night.

As if to answer Piers' wide eyed expression, the marksman helpfully continues his explanation. "I used to sneak out for smoke breaks," he says as he pulls out a crumbled piece of paper from the little space between the locks. "Put this here to keep it open and not set off the alarm every time I stepped out. Never got around to taking it out."

Piers blinks at him before glancing up at the corner of the building and sure enough, there are surveillance cameras. "Chris," he hisses, vaguely gesturing at them.

The marksman glances up at them before he chuckles, "They don't work."

"You don't know that," the younger man quips.

Chris snorts in response, "I do. The whole system is damaged."

"How long ago did you work here? They can be working now," Piers argues, the ever present pout on his features growing deeper with concern.

"Piers, relax, I'm 100% sure the cameras don't work," the marksman assures, but that doesn't ease the Ace's nerves, hazel glancing at the cameras and refusing to budge even as Chris gestures for Piers to get in. "Piers, c'mon."

Piers shifts uneasily on his feet, "Why the hell are we breaking in anyway?"

"Not breaking in. I'm a former employee and I just wanna show you something," Chris shrugs easily.

The Sniper bites on his bottom lip, feeling rooted to the spot. Chris rolls his eyes before he reaches for the Ace and grabs him by the wrist, pulling him into the building, but it's no easy feat with how stiff Piers is.

"Relax, I promise we're not here to burglarize or anything. I'm a cop. We're cops, remember?" the older man feels the need to remind his boyfriend as nonchalant about the whole situation as can be.

Piers purses his lips, letting the older man pull him along as he mutters under his breath, "Some cop you are."

Chris has the audacity to chuckle at that before he pulls Piers around the play sets, stopping when he reaches his destination. The ball pits, the colorful plastic spheres stacked up on one another to form a cluster deep enough to bury a poor, unsuspecting kid.

Piers is silent, blinking owlishly a few times before he tilts his head back to look up at his boyfriend, one simple word on his lips, "What?"

"I remember you clearly admitting that this is your greatest fear," Chris supplies though it does very little to lift the Ace's confusion.

"I...I did?" the Sniper furrows his brow before he shakes his head. "Ok, whatever, that's true and all, but what? I don't get why that matters or why we're here."

Chris steps behind of Piers, hands coming up to grip the younger man's shoulders, "What are you scared of?"

"Chris, I'm so confused right now," Piers frowns.

"I asked you what you're so afraid of earlier. You said you're not. So come on, show me," the marksman urges, fingers firm on the younger man's lithe shoulders.

"You want me to go through that?" Piers questions, eyeing the colorful sea of spheres warily. "Why?"

Chris leans forward, warm breath fanning over the shell of the Sniper's ear, "Cause I know you're strong and brave and I know that if you can do this, you can do anything."

Piers snorts, not quite as strongly as he'd like to with how shaky his breathing is, "Chris, I was joking about the whole scared of ball pits thing."

"Oh yeah?" In one motion, Chris sweeps Piers off his feet, one arm under his knees while the other supports his back, not that he'd need to with how quickly the younger man wraps his arms around the marksman's neck, fingers twisting into the back of his shirt in an ironclad grip. "Come again?" Chris laughs, Piers' grip unrelenting.

The Sniper purses his lips, cheeks tinting a light shade of red as hazel narrow at his boyfriend, "Chris, I just don't understand why."

Almost as if Chris does a complete 180 degree turn, the smile drops from his face, blue eyes staring into hazel with an intensity that surprises the younger man, "I lived my greatest fear when I almost lost Claire. You were there to help keep me together. Whether it be this or something else, anything, I want to be there for you too."

"Chris. . ."

"I'm saying you have do it alone," the older man interrupts. "You don't have to do anything on your own. Not anymore."

With the pure honesty evident in those blue eyes, how can Piers say no? He doesn't, the Ace nodding at the marksman before the older man flashes him a proud grin, stepping over the side of the pit and sinking in knees deep into a sea of rainbow spheres. Chris sets Piers down, the Sniper holding back a scoff when the balls just barely pass his knees.

This is nothing and it makes Piers feel a little silly, but then again, the last time he had been in one of these things, he'd been a kid that could easily drown in this pit, water or not. The thought immediately leaves him when he takes a step forward and he almost loses his balance, the balls at the bottom of the pit giving way under him as they move around both men.

Piers stumbles through the pit like a newborn colt on shaky legs, Chris not doing much better as he tries to figure out why he had found these so much fun as a kid. Lurching forward, the marksman catches himself, but he's unable to stop the laugh that follows, glancing over at the younger man who looks as if he's trying to walk through a minefield.

"C'mon, don't wanna be scared of ball pits forever, right?" the marksman chuckles, reaching over and grabbing hold of his boyfriend's hand, pulling him closer and inadvertently causing him to stumble onto his knees.

Chris offers him an apologetic look, not able to stop grinning especially after he catches a little smile gracing the younger man's features. Intertwining their fingers, they trudge across the pit, kicking up the balls and snickering along the way. The older man steps over onto the other side first, unwilling to release Piers' hand as the younger man follows him over, relieved when as a result he's able to catch his boyfriend when the Sniper loses his balance and crashes into him hard enough to send them both sprawling on the floor.

Chris can't stop the laugh that erupts from him even if he wanted to, flat on his back and jostling the younger man laying on top of him. Piers glances up at him, a shy grin on his own flushed features, but he makes no move to climb off his boyfriend, Chris taking advantage of the position and wrapping his arms around the Sniper, pulling him down for a kiss.

"See, that wasn't so bad, was it?" the marksman chuckles, pressing his forehead to the Ace's.

Piers snorts in response, "I almost died."

Chris throws his head back and laughs again, tightening his hold around his boyfriend and smothering Piers against his chest. "You're so dramatic," he manages between breaths. "You're fine. You got through that in one piece. Great job by the way."

Piers hums into Chris' chest, letting the older man hold his weight as he melts into his arms.

The change in Chris' tone is obvious, all mirth lost as he becomes serious. "You're the bravest person I know. Strong and smart. I can't imagine what could throw you off your game," he says and Piers knows he's not done yet. "What's wrong?" And there it is.

The marksman doesn't have to be specific for the Sniper to know what Chris is asking about. They just had this conversation in the tub and he should have known better than to think Chris would just let it go. The older man's arms around his lithe shoulders are reassuring, the warmth radiating off the marksman just as familiar as his scent. Chris wants to hold his hand. Why not let him?

"I ran away from home," Piers starts, tucking his face into the crook of his boyfriend's neck, lips brushing against the older man's skin as the muffled words continue to spill out. "My family has a history in the military. My great-grandfather, my grandfather, my father and then there's me. I was supposed to join the military too. It was expected of me and for the entirety of my life I went along with it. Thought I should. I really thought I wanted to too but then… but then I don't know."

The Sniper takes in a deep breath before he releases it shakily, "My senior year in high school we were told to write a paper on what we wanted to be. Of course I wrote soldier. Military. Ten pages worth, but you know what my teacher asked me?"

Chris remains silent, sensing that his boyfriend isn't really looking for an answer from him, but he does nod once, prompting they younger man to continue.

"Why. He asked me why and he didn't want my answer of just because it's expected of me. He wanted to know my reason. Piers Nivans. Not my father's or my grandfather's, but mine. I didn't have any answer to give him. For the first time in my life, I didn't know who I was or what I wanted to be. I didn't know what to do with my life. Did I ever even have a choice? I didn't want to be told anymore… I really just wanted to find out why. When Leon told me he was moving to Raccoon, I made the move with him. I just left. My parents…weren't none to pleased about that at all. Not proud at all. The opposite really."

Piers falls silent, the rise and fall of his chest pressing into Chris' own, the older man sliding his hands down the Ace's shoulders to his arms, pushing lightly to get him to sit back on his knees as the marksman sits up, blue eyes gazing intently into hazel.

"And now?" the marksman questions softly.

The Sniper's pouty lips tug into a frown, but he holds Chris' gaze as he admits, "Haven't quite figured out anything yet."

"I don't see anything wrong with that," the older man offers, letting one hand trail up Piers' arm to his neck and higher to cup his cheek. "But you'll know. Eventually. Doesn't have to be tonight. Or tomorrow. Or anything this week. Year. Doesn't matter as long as you know that you won't have to figure it out alone." And Chris means it. As sincere and straightforward as he can be.

Piers nods, pink tongue darting out to wet his lips, "Will it still be alright even if I told you I'm not even sure if joining S.T.A.R.S was a good idea?"

"I'd ask why you joined in the first place then."

"You," Piers is quick to respond and the answer is enough to remind Chris of when the Sniper had admitted to him that his stubborn heroics in that hostage situation is what had convinced the Ace to apply.

"It was a good idea," Chris is quick to affirm and maybe he's being selfish, but he can't help but feel that this is where Piers belongs. In S.T.A.R.S. With him. Especially with him. "Moving to Raccoon. Joining S.T.A.R.S. Meeting me."

"I didn't join S.T.A.R.S to serve justice, I mean, I did, but the real reason...what really drove me was you," Piers breathes out, hazel finally breaking contact with blue to glance down at the floor. "Doesn't sound like a dignified reason," the younger man admits before he suddenly jerks his head up again. "Not that you're not a valid reason or I regret it or anything or that I think you're not worth it, cause you are Chris and I think that if I had to go back and do it again I would cause you're -"

"Piers," Chris cuts off the younger man's flustered rambling, feeling heat rise up to settle in his cheeks while at the same time pooling into his stomach, his heart protesting to the change in body temperature by beating painfully against his ribcage. "Any reason is enough for me, so how about we try this again? No answer is undignified or invalid. I just want the first thing that pops into your head."

Piers remains silent and Chris can feel how the younger man trembles slightly in his arms, hazel burning into blue with an intensity that prevents the marksman from looking away, not that he would.

"Piers Nivans," Chris starts before he lets his voice gain strength as he asks the question, "What is it that you want?"

"You."

It's so simple and raw that it takes Chris' breathe away, the way the Sniper is taking in deep shaky breaths informing the marksman that he had also not been expecting how unguarded and honest his answer would be. Almost as if it had been a revelation to him as well.

"I'm what you want. Right now?" Chris inquires, his other hand trailing up to cup his boyfriend's other cheek.

"Yeah," Piers mutters, his eyelashes fluttering gently against his cheekbones as he blinks up at the older man, lost in his deep blue eyes.

"And later?"

"Yes."

"Tomorrow?"

"Yes."

"Next week?"

"Yeah."

"Next y-"

"Yes!" Piers huffs out, cutting the marksman off. "I want you. I want to be with you. I want this. Us. I love you. I love you and that's one thing I'm sure of."

If Chris hadn't already been sitting on the floor, he may have toppled over at the three very specific words that the Ace had just uttered, his lungs unable to get enough oxygen flowing within him fast enough.

I love you.

Piers is rigid in his arms, lips slightly parted as his brain catches up with his mouth before a flush creeps up his neck into his cheeks.

"You love me?" Chris whispers and the way the Sniper takes in sharp intake of breath lets the older man know Piers heard him loud and clear.

Hazel look at anywhere but Chris' face before he furrows his brows before he makes up his mind and settles his gaze back on his boyfriend, that familiar fire dancing behind his sharp eyes, "Yes."

Hands suddenly feeling sweaty, Chris still doesn't release Piers' face, "Say it again." The way Piers' purses his lips, a beautiful red flush coloring his cheeks doesn't sway Chris' resolve as he asks, no, demands again, "Piers, say it again."

Parting his full lips, the Ace lets the three words slip past them, "I love you." Without hesitation. He's so sure that it makes the older man's knees feel weak even though he's still on his rear, the Sniper kneeling between his legs and waiting with nervous anxiousness for Chris' answer.

Chris doesn't let him wait for long and just as sure as Piers had uttered them, the marksman says them too, "I love you too."

And he means it. Means it as he lets the words hang in the air between them, lets Piers process them before he's leaning forward to capture those lips in a gentle but passionate kiss, and when the Sniper responds to the kiss, melting into Chris' arms, he knows that Piers can feel it too.

Disclaimer: I don't own RE!

Author's Note: Wow, this was a pretty big one. Took me so long to get it done it's not even funny and I'm still not too happy with it, but I think it will do. Chris and Piers finally got to the "L" word. Yay!

Thank you for reading and any comments are welcomed!