A/N: HIIIII, yes it's been a while and I felt like in the spirit of RE: Requiem I should make another Leon fic. So this is gonna be a long one because it's based on an experience I had in fourth grade, it will be a bit more dramatized and an ER visit is in there ( I didn't go to the ER even tho I probably should have) be prepared for a very long fic, it's gonna be my longest yet. Yes it's post RE4 lollll! Yes Chris and Leon are together and yes I made hunnigan like a sister sibling since she meet Leon when he was younger, this isn't gonna be pretty since this sickness isn't , and yes I really did throw up this much ( even tho it is dramatized a bit ) Anyways happy reading folks -Nico🤍 *****************************************
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Leon had survived parasites, bio-weapons, and more near-death missions than he could count.
A fever shouldn't have been what brought him down, But when the nausea started, followed by the chills that rattled through his bones and a headache that felt like it might split his skull open, Leon realized something was very, very wrong.
By the time Chris Redfield found him barely conscious and burning with fever, Leon could barely stay on his feet.
And neither of them realized yet, That a single tick bite had just started the worst fight Leon had faced. **************************************** The apartment was too quiet, That was the first thing Chris noticed. Normally, Leon filled the place with some kind of noise,music playing softly from his phone, the low rumble of the TV, the creak of cabinets as he dug around for snacks he swore he hadn't finished the night before.
Tonight there was nothing. Chris paused in the doorway, keys still in his hand, his brow furrowing slightly. "Leon?" he called.
No answer.
He kicked the door shut behind him and stepped further into the apartment, shrugging out of his jacket. Something felt...off. The lights in the living room were dim, only the yellow glow of a lamp spilling across the couch.
And on that couch, Leon was curled into himself. Chris's chest tightened instantly. Leon was lying on his side beneath a blanket, blond hair messy and damp against his forehead. He hadn't even taken off the black tactical shirt he'd been wearing earlier that day.
"Hey," Chris said softly, crossing the room. Leon stirred slightly at the sound of his voice, but the movement was sluggish, wrong.
Chris crouched beside the couch "Leon?" Blue eyes cracked open, glassy and unfocused.
"Chris?" Leon's voice was hoarse, barely more than a rasp. "Yeah, it's me."
Chris's hand automatically went to Leon's forehead.
And immediately, "Jesus." Leon was burning. "You're on fire," Chris muttered. Leon gave a weak, crooked smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Feel like it."
