A/N: Whew, some fluffy feels in this one, but it still has an undertone of angst. This is the last chapter of the small series. Thanks again to siberian74 for this amazing prompt, it's been a great mini-series that I had fun writing. c: This does feature a few time skips, but nothing that isn't like the last chapter.

After more than three months, things were finally beginning to piece themselves back together. As per request, Piers had been moved to the same room as his Captain. Yet, instead of getting the rest he should have, many days were spent out of his own bed and in the chair by Chris. The improvements that the older man had started to show after such a long amount of time had given them both so much more hope, and despite all the pain and all the hell they'd been through, Piers would always feel more at ease when he felt thicker fingers twitch under his own.

It was a start, and a damn good one.

To make up for his absence during his search for Wesker, Piers had done exactly as promised and never left the room for even a moment. Chris had caught him several times in the middle of the night hovering by his side. A reassuring squeeze from his own hand would immediately wipe away the frown placed over plump lips. Piers would say that he was okay and content with watching Chris in his sleep. Chris on the other hand, would insist that Piers should allow his body some actual rest.

Both men retained their sense of stubbornness.

"You're going to end up hurting yourself more doing that every night." Chris would comment, and the ace in return pursed his lips.

"I'm fine, Captain."

But the older man wouldn't let it slide so easily, "Piers, you've barely even slept lately-"

"Chris!" Piers sighed and raised a hand to comb through his hair, "I'm okay. I said I would be here, and I want to be." He insisted, letting his arm fall away and relax.

"Piers, you're in the same room. We'll have all day to spend together, get some rest. You need to recover, too. Please," Chris pleaded with him. He'd missed the younger man and loved having him close by... But it was different now, given that Piers was still wounded too. Chris didn't want to see him hurt himself further.

Piers sighed and leaned slightly closer, "I've been okay. It's just sore-"

"Piers," Chris chimed in, lips firmly pressed into a thin line. "You were impaled on a metal shard. Sore doesn't even begin to cover it."

The ace gave a small shake of the head at that. "I'd rather be here," Piers told him, as one nimble finger reached out to draw soft circles across the span of muscled chest, "Even if it does hurt."

Chris rested his head back against the pillow, eyes closed as he focused on the sensations. Ever since he'd started being able to feel more of his body bit by bit, he'd learned not to take any of it for granted. The doctors had said his improvement was a rare thing, that he was more than just lucky. It was a damn miracle, and Chris wouldn't let it go to waste. "I know you would," He finally replied with a tired exhale. Of course Chris had known how Piers felt. The ace didn't want to let time pass them by so easily, he didn't want to have regrets. But, Piers did want to spend every moment that he could with Chris after what had happened, after he thought he'd lost him.

Chris knew, because he wanted to do the same with Piers.

"Then you shouldn't complain," Piers stated, fingers still tracing circular motions over the lightly tanned skin. He was exhausted, but he didn't want to move. Hazel fluttered, wanting to fall closed and relax. The world darkened as his lids drooped, but stubbornly, Piers remained seated in the chair. There was a warmth that placed itself over the side of his face; a soft, caressing feel that caused his eyes to reopen where they stared into brown, surprised. "Chris-"

"Lay down, Piers. Please?"

Piers raised a hand to place it over the one at his cheek, fingers intertwining with Chris'. He hadn't been able to move like that before... "But you-"

"Piers," Chris cut him off again, thumb roaming across olive skin. It felt so good to finally feel those softened features again, although his arms hardly felt like they were attached; sensation had yet to fully return with the ability to move them. Still, it was a step in the right direction. "Do it for me. We can talk in the morning."

Piers inhaled, leaning against the touch. He didn't want to leave, especially now. Yet as he looked into softened brown, he saw an equal amount of concern flashing right back at him. Chris wanted to ensure that he would be okay, and unlike Piers, he couldn't offer the same support of sitting by his bedside. Hesitantly, the ace finally relented with a short nod. "Okay," Came the soft utter as Piers retracted his fingers from muscled contours, and the hand against his cheek lowered from its positioning.

"Thank you."

Piers lifted himself from the chair and hovered nearby for several lengthy moments, as if debating the decision while he looked down at the older man. "I'm not leaving you, Piers. I'll be right here." Chris promised, upon seeing him hesitate so visibly.

"I believe that. It's just..." Piers was still afraid. After everything they had been through, it wasn't misplaced.

"I know," Chris admitted, having felt exactly the same.

Piers eyed him for a short while longer before he finally moved and settled himself back down on his own bed. "I'll see you soon." No more goodbyes or goodnights.

"When daylight hits," Chris agreed.

Hazel and brown fluttered themselves into a close, and both men already longed for the touch of one another, looking forward to the day when they could return to their own bed and snake their arms around each other.

"They said what?"

Two more days, and the absence of feeling in the Captain's arms and abdominal muscles gradually turned into soft tingles and light twitches. Every day, his fingers squeezed just a bit tighter, an ongoing improvement that shined a light through their darkened hell.

Jill's lips tugged slightly upward at their corners, "They're considering releasing the both of you." She'd just finished talking with one of the doctors on her way in. Both men seemed to perk up at that.

Home.

The thought of going back there, of being in a familiar, comfortable setting with privacy unending, it was something they had longed for ever since the start of their given situation. Hazel found brown, a shared look. Knowing, wanting. Chris didn't break it ask he spoke, "I can't walk yet, Jill."

The brunette took a few steps closer, hovering nearby the ace's side while watching her long time friend. "You'll have to settle with using a wheelchair for now. They'll help you prepare so you can manage to get around when you have to." She averted her gaze then and placed a soft hand over the sniper's shoulder, but Piers didn't turn. "He's going to need someone to keep an eye on him for a while, just in case." The words she'd spoken then were enough to cause hazel to finally part from brown and peer up at her. "I'll be by whenever I can, but I think you'll want to be the one to cover that." She knew. She always knew. The hand fell away and Jill stepped back to leave.

Chris glanced toward the retreating footsteps as the brunette neared the door, "Jill." The name had blue eyes seeking out the owner. Chris gave a nod toward her, "Thanks." Simple, sweet. But the meaning bore roots that dived a lot deeper than that. She was always there with a supporting shoulder for them. She offered a smile and a brief nod of her own before she turned and exited the room to allow them a temporary privacy before the nurses would file in to tell the news themselves.

"It sounds good, doesn't it?"

Hazel returned to brown at that. In normal circumstances, Piers may have mustered a smile. But not then. A hand reached out to the ace and he clasped his own around it, "It sounds great." He corrected, but even those words weren't enough. It was a miracle that fell right into their lap, and who were they to pass up on it? "We're going to be okay," Piers added on with determination in his eyes. They made it out of everything that occurred fully intact, and now they just had to find a way to return to living again. Another palm placed itself over the two already joined by their fingers, and this time it was Piers who had hand his caught in between both of his Captain's.

"I hope you're right," Chris admitted to being unsure, just as when Piers had spoken, he seemed more like he was trying to convince them both. Maybe he was. But it didn't matter; Piers wouldn't leave his side until he was back on his feet... And if the day never came, then he would stay there forever. "Yeah," Piers voiced in reply, and the room had fallen into a silence after that.

The sound of nothingness remained unbroken until an hour later when the nurses came to bring them the news on their own. Two more days was all they wanted from them, just two more.

But those days dragged on to what felt like forever.

Sunlight danced through parted clouds, sprinkling down in bright rays that lit up the walkway. Fresh air was a welcome thing as the breeze tickled across the spans of leaves in the trees, blades of grass swung side to side in a gentle rhythm. Birds chirped softened tunes in the near distance, cooing their song to the open world.

It had been so long since Chris had actually gone outside. He'd basked in it the moment they'd taken him out to the car, and again, now, as Piers helped him out of the passenger's side and into the wheelchair.

They were back.

Finally, they were home.

Piers shut the car door, hands reaching for the back of the chair until Chris motioned for him to wait, "Can we stay out here for a while?" He queried, with eyes directed toward the sky. Arms were woven around him from behind, and he could feel lips as they pressed themselves to the side of his neck. "For as long as you want," Piers whispered against him, breath tickling over his skin.

Everything bad had temporarily slithered itself from view. Chris tilted his head at an angle so it was leaning into his lover's, and Piers never loosened his grip. For the first time in a long time, they were both relaxed. There were no worries, no pain from all that had happened. No shame from Chris at being glued to a wheelchair, and nothing but contentment from Piers at having Chris back in his arms. They watched the day carry on before them until the sun had circled across the sky, dwindling barely in sight with colors of blues and reds, pinks and yellows. Purple and orange. All of them blended together, perfectly intertwined before two sets of eyes from the bodies that had yet to move.

It wasn't until the shades faded to a near black that Chris had broken the silence, "Let's go inside."

Piers tightened his hold just slightly before he withdrew, grabbing the handles of the chair to push his lover indoors. He guided them to the bedroom, where he helped Chris get settled over the mattress and under the sheets. Piers climbed in after him, and their arms wrapped over one another as Chris shifted, head tucked below his lover's chin with an ear to his chest, where the steady beat lulled him into a peaceful sleep.

Piers didn't rest that night. A hand traced slow circles around the older man's back, gentle and soothing as he softly snored. Piers focused on each quiet breath, every slow movement of the muscled chest as it rose and fell against his side. Even the occasional tightening of the arm sprawled over his midsection, just above the bandages that shielded away his wound. Chris was there, alive and recovering in the embrace of his own arms.

Piers vowed to never let him go again.

Chris woke up like that in the morning, still drawn in close to his lover. They stayed that way for as long as they could, enclosed in each other's arms with a shared warmth from their combined body heat. It was something they'd both missed while hidden away in the hospital beds, forced to separate from one another.

Once they did finally choose to move, the new day had brought a few issues; minor concerns as they both tried to adjust themselves to deal with Chris' state accordingly. They had limited experience, but the nurses had taken care to make sure that Piers knew everything he had to so he could help when necessary.

Patience and a bit of teamwork paid off.

Despite the problems they'd come across, everything worked itself out in the end. Most of their time was spent sprawled out on the bed, taking in every given moment they had leaning up against each other while watching a variety of shows together. At times, they would stop to talk, about things both small and large. Life, love. Never duty, never pain. In other instances, they would sit without words, when the only passing sounds would be soft breathing and slow thumping heartbeats that thrummed in unison, calling out to one another in an unspoken language that reached much deeper than words.

The days had gone by quickly after that.

Another week of staying at home, coping with Chris being some sort of cripple. He hated not being able to move like he used to, hated the stress it put on Piers, who refused to ever leave his side again. Although it was getting easier to handle it, Chris didn't think he'd ever actually be used to it.

The morning had started like any other at first, Chris woke up to Piers rubbing soft circles over the span of his back to soothe him. They stayed there for a time just like all the days before, never getting tired of being so wrapped up in one another. When they did finally part, Piers had risen to his feet in preparation to help his lover, who waved him off with the okay to get himself ready first. Piers hesitated, but Chris was insistent. They'd been practicing enough that he could deal with getting around in his current state if he had to. Still, after their ordeal, Piers had become more protective of the older man. He eventually relented though with the promise that he wouldn't be long as he stepped into the bathroom.

True to his word, the shower was done with very quickly. Piers did however, pause to eye himself thoroughly in the mirror. He'd have to redo the bandages like every other day, but Chris had always been more than willing to help considering that Piers actually did have issues putting them in place alone, given the position of the wound and the way the bandages had to be wrapped. It would cost him more pain than it was worth any time he did try to place them on his own. Piers exhaled, closing his eyes briefly as his head lowered, hands on either side of the sink to use it as support for his weight. He heard the door open behind him, but he had yet to move.

"Piers..."

"I'm almost finished, Chris."

"No, Piers. I... I can..." He sounded surprised, relieved.

Happy.

Piers furrowed his brow in confusion and reopened his eyes to lift his head so that he could glance in the mirror. Chris was in the doorway, arms on either side of the frame to hold him steady. Hazel widened. Chris wasn't in the wheelchair.

Piers spun around in an instant to see for himself, and it was true! "Chris! You're..." Standing. Barely and unsteadily, he was using more strength in his arms against the frame to keep him upright, but he was on his feet. Piers moved to lover's side in an instant to place one of his arms over his shoulders, helping him keep what small amount of balance he had. "I don't..." Believe it. It was a damn miracle. "Chris... This is great, you're improving more than we thought you could!" Piers nearly choked on his own words, a joy he hadn't felt in a long time made itself known as Chris smiled, actually smiled.

"I was able to feel my legs when I went to get up, so I tried to move them. I don't know how, but..." He trailed off, slowly bending his knees. Chris nearly collapsed and probably would have if Piers wasn't there due to his limbs still being so weak, the muscles weren't as flexible and his body had yet to adjust itself again. His movements were slow and small, but it was a huge leap in progress. Piers led him back to the bed so he wouldn't fall, and called it in to the doctor. She'd said she would want to check up on Chris herself, and set up an appointment later that day. She'd actually cleared her schedule to make the time for them, given the seriousness of their situation.

Until the time came when they'd have to go in, Piers had to keep a close eye on Chris. The older man insisted on moving his legs as often as he could, and occasionally tried to stand again. Although Piers was pleased to see him in a vastly improved state, he was mildly irritated at the stubbornness his lover possessed.

Even if it did mimic his own.

Upon arrival to the hospital, even the doctor had seemed surprised by the sudden improvement. She'd wanted to see more thoroughly how much Chris could do, so there were a few necessary tests; small things, walking around, bending, most of which he'd already tried. He couldn't run or squat, even crouching was difficult and if he tried to drop to a knee, he'd be going too deep that his legs would give out and he wouldn't be able to get back up on his own.

In the end, the doctor insisted that he use a cane for the time being. It was a step up from the wheelchair by far, and Chris was just glad to be back on his feet again. Piers was with him all throughout their time in the facility, never far away.

It was good news, the best they've had in a long time.

Another couple of days with the cane, and Chris was having an easier time coping with it than the damn chair. He'd gotten much better at walking, though there were still a few issues with bending down and moving too well over all.

"How's everything feeling?" Piers had asked that question every morning when they'd wake up, and at night as they were laying in bed together prepared to sleep. It was late, and they sat next to one another against the headboard in nothing but their pants that neither one of them had yet to change. They had gone for another walk, something new they started to do ever since Chris was able, and stayed out far later than intended. When they returned home, shirts were discarded and boots were kicked aside with their socks. They climbed onto the mattress like that and had made no attempts to move since then.

"Better, but there are still a few restrictions." Chris tended to say that a lot.

"Your arms?" Piers was pushing for more this time.

"Not bad."

"Hands?"

"A bit tingly."

"Fingers?"

"Piers-"

"I'm being serious."

A sigh resounded from Chris, "I can't flex them as well as I used to." That was one constant thing. Although they had been the source of one of the first feelings to return, his grip was no where near as strong as it used to be. Tight enough to hold any basic thing such as glass and silverware, but anything heavy he wouldn't be able to get a good hold over.

Piers grasped the older man's hand between his own. He pulled softly at the thumb and nudged it until it curved slightly. "Can you feel it when I do this?"

Chris eyed him with a raised brow, "Yeah..."

Piers moved to the pointer finger, "That?"

"Mhm..."

"This?" The middle was next, and Chris gave a small shake of the head with a smile forming at the corners of his lips. "Piers, I can feel them just fine-" Plump lips over his own shushed his complaint as Piers moved to the next finger, and Chris felt something different hug over it. He pulled away to look down, and his breath hitched in his throat.

"Could you feel that, too?" Piers inquired, and hazel roamed over older features as Chris eyed the band placed around his finger. "Piers... I-" A hand under his chin tipped his head up and leveled his gaze with the ace. "I want to take care of you, Chris." A thumb rubbed soothing rotations along the skin of his cheek, causing the former Captain to swallow the lump that formed within the confines of his throat as brown orbs found themselves locked onto piercing hazel with the inability to avert.

"Let me do that and marry me."

Chris felt as though his breath had been stolen away. After all they'd been through, all they'd done together... He still hadn't expected such a large step, especially so soon after... "...You're really sure about this? I mean, I-... We-" A thumb pressed to his lips, hushing down the words he had yet to form.

Piers kept his gaze settled on brown, "I wouldn't have asked if I didn't think we were ready for this. Yes or no, Chris. That's all it'll take," The tone was soft, tender to his ears as Piers had spoken. The finger moved away from lightly parted lips to resume it's position against Chris' cheek, rubbing gently over the skin.

Yes or no. Did Piers really believe that Chris could have ever told him the latter? They had trudged through the deepest corners of every hell known to man and came out together; hurt, but alive. Broken, but recovering. Piers had done so much, fought so hard to keep Chris safe and went to great troubles to ensure that it stayed that way. Even after having to watch him turn his back and fight a war that wasn't his own, Chris hadn't been able to stay angry forever. Not when he'd felt such an enormous relief just to have Piers back in one piece with him. A hand raised to the the one under his chin, pulling it away to hold it inside his own. He already made his choice.

"Yes," Chris had said with a soft squeeze from his fingers, "Yes." The word was repeated like a mantra as he leaned in to brush their lips together. "Yes," It sounded between every brief parting, every slight pause in their kiss. For the first time in a long time, Chris had felt a slight curve to the bow shaped lips pressed tight to his own, and his heart found itself melting as arms were woven around him to pull him closer. "I love you," He'd heard from the younger man as his mouth was devoured. But Chris already knew.

Fingers trailed down the span of muscled contours, already shirtless, following each dip of abdominals until they slid beneath the belt buckle where a steady palm nestled itself against the groin, kneading the length hidden under the fabric. Chris groaned at the feeling, something that had become so unknown to his body for over three months. The touch had an immediate reaction that bulged within the grip of that teasing hand. He missed it, missed feeling Piers over him, inside of him.

The sniper pulled back to part their lips, lifting his other hand to lightly tug through his lover's hair until his neck was exposed. Chris inhaled sharply at the treatment, his mouth fell open and eyes slid closed as Piers dived in to taste the salty skin, leaving teasing nips across the sensitive flesh. The other hand that rested over Chris' thickened bulge gave a soft squeeze as it traced the outline through his pants. "Piers," It was a half-whine as the younger man tormented him. There was a small vibration against his skin, a soft tickle of a light laugh, and the low sound that washed over his ears made any further complaint that Chris may have had cease completely. It had been too long since he'd heard it last.

Piers, thankfully for Chris, decided to be somewhat merciful and started to undo his belt buckle where the button and zipper were moved out of the way to allow deft hands access to the weeping length hidden beneath the folds of clothing. "You want this as much as I do?" Piers pried as he clutched a handful of meat, gaining a soft groan from Chris in response as plump lips found their way back to his own, swallowing the sound into the moist cavity. "It's been so long," Chris admitted between kisses as the hand that hovered over his length pumped in small, teasing tugs.

"That wasn't an answer," The ace prodded with another small curve to those delicious lips. Chris had missed seeing that smile and had to pull away just to catch sight of it again. He felt the corners of his own mouth twitch in response. "Yes," He said for the fourth time in a matter of minutes. "I've missed feeling you like this." It was true, and his voice conveyed that. Piers paused in his movements to look him in the eye, the hurt, the longing so visible within. The hand woven through short locks moved to cup over his lover's cheek with a tenderness reserved only for him, "I'll make up for it," Piers insisted with a determination. "I'll take care of you," Their lips met briefly, "I'll make you feel good again." They were all promises that he intended to keep. His fingers tightened their hold over the thick shaft with a teasing flick over the head that had Chris gasp from the friction.

Piers released his grip completely, adjusting himself on the bed so Chris would be able to move down the length of it as he tugged at the waistline of his pants to lower them with his underwear and discard them off to the side of the bed. "Lay on your stomach this time. I'll take care of everything." The tone was soft, not commanding. A partial request that Chris followed through with. He scooted himself down the length of the bed and away from the headboard so he could roll onto his front, arms folded over a pillow with his head on top of them. Piers shuffled off to the side, where he removed the remnants of his own clothing and pulled something free from the dresser. The bed dipped down upon his return, and Piers positioned himself over his lover with a leg on either side of him.

Deft hands roamed over the bared back, soothing and gentle as they lowered to firmly sculpted globes. Piers kneaded the skin, grabbing handfuls to lightly squeeze and release to rub. Chris groaned softly under him at the tease, and Piers denied him no longer. He opened the cap to a bottle of lube and poured a gracious amount into his hand, which he first used to slick over the length of his own shaft to ensure that there would be full preparation. Piers squirted more of the lube over his fingers, guiding them toward the eagerly awaiting anal passage where he dipped one in at a time, slow going with repeated rotations upon entry. At two fingers, he started scissoring against the ring to loosen the muscle. The digits withdrew, only to dive right back in where they would stretch at the ring. The process was looped, repeating with every thrust of those nimble fingers into the heated channel. Piers heard the increase of breath from Chris under the administrations, and decided it was enough. His fingers withdrew, and the lube was set aside out of the way.

Piers aligned himself with the anal passage, pausing for a moment when his tip was pressed against it before he pushed himself forward, the crown of his cock stretched at the ring of muscle, making it give way with ease from the amount of preparation used. "No more pain, Chris." He whispered as he sunk himself in as far as he could, balls pressed tight against perfectly sculpted globes that welcomed him inside as the older man released a throaty groan at the penetration. "No more worries." Piers continued, dipping his head in to trail kisses between his lover's shoulder blades. "Just us, just now." He lowered himself further, pressing his front air tight against Chris' back.

Chris inhaled from under the ace, feeling the cock as it seated itself inside of him, filling him with the thick girth. Even idle, he could feel the pulse that throbbed in tune with the younger man's heartbeat, and it caused a pleasurable tingle to flood his insides as he waited for it to move, clenching his muscles down over the length to hint that he was ready. After three long months of feeling little to nothing, Chris found himself yearning for movement, for the shaft inside him to delve in deeper, to take him and make him forget everything that had happened, even if it was a temporary release.

Piers grunted his approval as the walls closed in around his cock and he rotated his hips, nudging against the inner walls he'd missed so much. Pushing himself back up on his arms, he withdrew to the tip with no hesitation to push back in, instantly prodding into the cluster of nerves he knew so well where to find. Chris moaned underneath him, clutching to the pillow with a tightened fist that gripped a handful. As Piers retracted just to to bring his hips forward into the same spot, Chris found himself biting down over a corner of the pillow, muffling his noises as his prostate was massaged with every thrust. Piers was gentle with him, never too rough or fast, careful that he might break after all that had happened. So caring, so dedicated.

Chris could feel his own weeping cock trapped under the weight of his body, and each plunge of the invading girth into his lubricated channel nudged him against the sheets where it caused a small friction, teasing his shaft as he was pushed and pulled over the mattress. Piers had his lips back on him, heated mouth nipped and licked over bared skin, leaving traces of saliva in their wake as he moved along the span of his lover's back. Chris gave a muffled reply into the pillow, keeping it firmly placed between his teeth as Piers had his eyes rolling to the back of his head the more times he hit that sensitive spot.

As Piers intended, Chris was left in a state of bliss, continuously filled to the hilt with every plunge of solid, pulsing meat into his anal canal, pushing him that much closer to Heaven. All the pain, the hurt, it melted away then and there was only the two of them. Chris and Piers, Captain and Ace. Partners, lovers. The rest of the world was non-existent outside of that moment, and the reality they lived in had become perfection.

Piers panted against the skin of his back, "Nnng... I won't ever let anything bad happen to you again." It was a promise that he had every intention of keeping. No one would ever harm Chris after that. Piers pushed himself in deep, holding there with his cock nudged tight against his lover's prostate. Chris released a lengthy moan, muffled by the pillow as Piers made him feel whole, alive. Normal.

So close. Chris was so close.

Piers retracted, pausing to sit up and allow his hands to roam over the skin his mouth had previously passed over, where they slid down to grab handfuls of familiar globes with a soft squeeze as he slid himself back in, sheathed all the way. He kneaded the cheeks in each palm as he thrusted, and finally it was enough to throw Chris over the edge. He released the pillow from between his teeth for one last lengthy moan, loud and such a lovely sound to the ace who continued to pump into his heated channel that closed in around him at the orgasm, up until Piers felt his own seed start to spill into the tightened depths that hugged his shaft. A soft moan of his own slipped free from parted lips between heavy pants, and Piers pulled himself out to collapse next to Chris, who shifted so he could rest his head over Piers' chest.

"I need a shower," Chris huffed, feeling the sticky fluids between himself and the bed sheets.

Piers wrapped an arm around him, "Tomorrow."

"...It'll be dry by then."

"So, I'll scrub it off for you." Piers didn't want to get up or move, to ruin the moment.

"And the sheets?"

"We can buy new ones, Chris."

Chris hummed thoughtfully, "Wouldn't it be easier if we didn't have to?"

"I think I liked it better when you were biting on that pillow," Piers sighed, and Chris nudged him with an arm at the comment, a feigned pout in place over his lips.

"That's not funny."

"Neither is this conversation. Go to sleep, Chris." Piers insisted as his own eyes slid closed.

Chris snorted, "Love you, too." He mumbled, brown orbs following the influence of hazel as they drooped shut.

In the darkness, Piers had smiled.

Days lengthened to weeks, weeks turned into months.

Things should have been happier than they were, but Wesker had left his mark and it stained heavily upon both of their souls. In the end, it had been the strength that they'd taken from one another which helped them to remain whole and do what they had to so they would be able to move on.

Chris could move, talk and walk again, but there were times he would feel more stiff early in the mornings. Aside from that, he was as recovered from the ordeal as he could have been. No more wheelchairs, no more canes. Almost back to the way he used to be. Piers on the other hand, had healed nicely and completely with little to no left over aches or pains. That was only physically, for they had both been burnt with emotional scars that dug themselves in deep, merging into the depths of their person. Always there, always reminding them.

But, they could adapt. They could learn to live with what had happened, as long as it was together.

The B.S.A.A. was now a thing of the past for both men. Piers had left when his Captain was forced to retire during his time of injury; he never wanted them to part ways like that again, he never wanted another barrier put between them that would distance the two from each other. With that line of thought in mind, Piers had never left his side. Even while knowing that their lives would never have the same amount of action and adventure that they used to, Piers would stay with him. All the way to the end.

He knew that life would never be as exciting for men who used to be soldiers. Never be normal, after all the things that had happened.

It would never be the same again.

But, they still had each other.