Heavily edited for fanfiction dot net. Unfortunately, I thought that quite a bit of the angst was lost with the edits. The original can be found behind a password wall on my website or friend locked on the re yaoi and kafe club LJs.
DISCLAIMER: Resident Evil is owned by Capcom Co. Ltd. All these characters and materials are used without permission, and I'm not profiting from this piece of fan fiction.
Deciding Factor
By firewolf
It sounded like a straightforward mission; invade, rescue the prisoners, and demolish or take control of the target facility. Jack Krauser had faced more challenging jobs in the early years of his training. And if the truth was to be told, he was frankly bored with the assignments.
Perhaps Wesker was right and it was time for a change... time for him to consider a transfer to covert activities. It certainly sounded a whole lot more exciting then his current run of the mill type of missions.
The thing was-- Jack wasn't sure how much he could trust the other man. The officer had made some rather disturbing insinuations about the current command and decision structure within the Agency... He'd have to give more thought to the man's offer once he was finished with this mission.
Not that Jack was expecting it to be difficult. It wasn't as if he and his team would have any trouble identifying the prisoners they were being sent to liberate either. While they did not interact extensively with the junior classes, they mixed often enough during mass and downtime for any of Jack's team to recognise at least two of the ten rookies who had disappeared in the vicinity of the rogue Umbrella base. The Captain had given Jack a significant look regarding one of the rookies; one Leon S. Kennedy.
Jack huffed to himself in a fit of irritation. It wasn't like Kennedy was his one true love, and Jack knew the other man would outright laugh in the face of anyone who would suggest that.
Their first casual meeting on one of those rare joint classes pitted them as antagonistic opposites. Jack would admit that he had been overly cocky when he was matched against the junior cadet during their class on bladed weapons.
Maybe it was an accident, but the injury which Leon delivered to him had been devastating. The cut required a score of stitches.
The kid had been genuinely sorry about the injury, but Jack was pissed. The scar that was created started from the chin just missed his nose and ran over the left eye. Jack was lucky he didn't lose the eye.
In all honesty though, contrary to his earlier belief, he got more dates from women 'cause they were intrigued by his scar and wanted to hear his story. Not that he ever told the true story behind the scar or admitted to Leon he'd suddenly become a chick magnet because of it. He had a reputation as a hard nosed fighter to keep up. Unfortunately, the little wildcat refused to be pushed around.
For the next four months, their instructors had had to constantly watch them to make sure they didn't kill each other. It finally came to a head when the instructors were frustrated enough to lock them in a room to work out their differences.
Oh, they had fought; bare knuckled and without weapons, though always mindful never to use lethal force. And Jack had somehow managed to grab Leon's wrists and wrenched them overhead while he pinned him against the wall with his body.
In his defence, Jack would later swear he had only been trying to shut Leon's smart mouth in the most expedient fashion available. The first touch of lips sparked a volatile blaze between them which refused to be quenched.
Kennedy lips had been sweet-- salty-- delicious. To this day, Jack didn't have the vocabulary to describe how good the man tasted as he devoured his mouth and tried to push his tongue down Leon's throat. The younger man's rumbling purr of want as Jack kissed him had set him tingling all the way down to his cock and grinding hips and groins were soon insufficient for their mutual desire.
Jack never asked, but he had a suspicion that Leon was a virgin then. He had felt the kid to be too naïve and inexperienced to be anything else. Leon hadn't appeared to understand what the older man was preparing him for with spit slicked fingers until Jack had him braced against some crates. Jack still had the distinct bite mark on his shoulder to commemorate the first time he impaled Leon upon his cock.
Once had not been enough though. The furnace which burned in Jack demanded that he exert his dominance on Leon again and again. Fortunately, the younger man had been more than agreeable at the time. Leon regretted it later though as he required Jack to offer a supportive shoulder when they finally left the room. The older man had been impossibly smug about the whole situation.
This was even after they found themselves immediately confronted by two red faced instructors who, as it turned out, had been monitoring the room to make sure they didn't kill each other. Jack thought Leon was going to die from embarrassment when he realised they had an audience.
It was very fortunate the two men chose to overlook their activities; seeing how they would have implicated themselves as well in 'setting them up.' Frankly, it amused the hell out of the instructors. So apart from a growled warning that they were to be better behaved around each other in the future and an admonition to be discrete, they were allowed to return to classes without anything further said; though the two instructors would occasionally snicker whenever they saw them together.
While their classmates noticed the two weren't fighting anymore, they wouldn't have described them as being 'friends' either. However, they did note that the two men would often seek each other out on random weekends to disappear; sometimes for an hour or two, sometimes the whole weekend.
They strictly never made any promises to each other. They were fuck buddies. It was just convenient to them whenever they happened to be posted to the same training centre for a period.
Jack's Captain, however, was one of those who thought there was more behind the story. Nevertheless, she didn't rag on Jack as long as he remained professional about his training and duties. And Jack gave his squad leader a glare and nod now to indicate he understood the unsaid message and that he could be counted on.
While Jack would admit to feeling a twinge of worry for Leon, he wasn't about to let that interfere with how he performed on the mission. Especially when he knew the undertaking was not going to be a stroll in the park.
As much as the squad enjoyed joking among themselves about the younger and less experienced cadets needing to have their fat pulled out of the fire by their 'big' brothers and sisters, Jack's team were not dismissing the danger lightly. The Agency's training regime was rigorous, and anyone who made it as far as that team of rookies, was a formidable challenge individually. That an entire team of ten were captured or possibly killed was warning enough to Jack's unit that something out of the ordinary must have taken them down.
Well, they were about to find out soon
enough..
24 hours earlier
On too many occasions to count, Leon S. Kennedy cursed the day he had ever heard of Raccoon City. His life had certainly taken a turn into the nightmare realm from his first day of work as a rookie in the Raccoon City Police Department.
Thinking that he was exaggerating when he described the BOWs he once faced, his team mates hadn't taken him seriously when he warned them of the kind of monsters Umbrella accidentally unleashed in Raccoon City. They were, however, quick to change their minds when faced with their first Licker.
The situation went downhill from there, but the cadets had banded together and pushed through against the nightmare creatures Umbrella kept throwing at them. That is, until Umbrella let their Tyrants out to play.
Leon had only ever faced off a Tyrant one at a time. In his experience, these Umbrella creations were solitary creatures. To be suddenly confronted by a group of them working as a single unit was enough to warn him that Umbrella made significant improvements in their creations.
For each one that fell to their barrage of bullets and dissolved into a slime stain on the ground, another would appear to take its place. They were picked off one by one, until it was finally down to Leon and three others trapped in a windowless office by five Tyrants.
The end was a foregone conclusion. It was inevitable that they ran out of bullets. Down to their combat knives, the last three cadets had spread out to give themselves room to fight and to sell their lives dearly.
However, Leon found himself in a bewildering predicament. He was soon the last one left alive with four Tyrants backing him into a corner. With a last thought of Sherry and a final prayer that the Agency would look after her beyond his death, Leon had launched himself straight at the foremost Tyrant slashing purposefully and hoping to strike a mortal blow.
To his dismay, his knife barely laid a scratch on the Tyrant's grey skin despite Leon putting his full weight and strength behind the slash. Instead his target had caught Leon's hand, forcing him to drop the knife as it swung him out of the corner and in the midst of their quartet.
Leon had closed his eyes then, expecting a fist to crush his head at any moment. He had seen some of his team mates killed earlier by a blow to the head which crushed their skulls and splattered brain, bone and blood over walls and floor. He was sure it was his turn now.
Nothing prepared him to instead feel a large ham like hand tentatively stroke over a cheek. He had jerked away in surprise. Leon opened his eyes then to look at the four Tyrants who surrounded him. None appeared interested in seeking his death. Instead, he saw a flicker in their stone like faces which seemed to resemble curiosity.
When the Tyrant who was still holding his arm brought it towards its face to smell and rubbed the back of his hand against its cheek, Leon freaked out. He didn't know what the hell was going on, but he wanted out now!
He kicked the Tyrant in the balls to make it let him go. But that only caused it to shove him into the embrace of the Tyrant behind him. The two Tyrants on either side of him were quick to drop to one knee to grab Leon's thrashing legs and prevent him from kicking out again. Despite his wild struggles, Leon was well and effectively immobilised.
He looked at the Tyrant he kicked warily as it straightened from its crouch. Leon knew the kick had hurt it, however, unlike a human the creature was far from incapacitated by the blow. It looked at him angrily. Again, Leon expected to die. But the damn things weren't acting anywhere within his realm of understanding.
The Tyrant's arm stabbed out towards Leon, but instead of hitting him, Leon felt its hand catch the fabric of his pants. Before he realised its intensions, the creature tore a large strip of material off him. As if it were a signal for their further participation, the other three Tyrants also began pulling and tearing at Leon's clothes; ignoring his cries of distress and mounting hysteria.
It was suddenly clear to Leon what the Umbrella creations wanted, and he couldn't believe it. He couldn't understand why he alone had been singled out among all his other team mates. There were a few women in his squad. If Umbrella bred the BOWs to procreate, why hadn't they picked a woman instead of him?
All too soon, the Tyrants had Leon shivering in the cool air of the Umbrella facility; naked apart from his gloves and his laced boots. The Tyrant standing in front of him gently, but firmly caught his chin in its hand to force him to look into its eyes. Despite his fear, Leon glared at it with as much defiance as he could master; promising in his look that he would struggle and fight them with all his might. He only later realised that as out numbered and overpowered as he was, it was the wrong thing to do.
The Tyrant released him and swung away from him then. And for a moment, Leon thought he won a small victory. That little spark of triumph stayed with him only until the Tyrant pulled out a sturdy looking crate and sat on it before gesturing towards its compatriots.
Before Leon understood what was happening, they threw him at the seated Tyrant who caught and quickly laid him with his belly over its lap. A large hand had furthermore gathered his wrists behind him and held them firmly crossed against the small of his back; a grip which effectively kept Leon from rolling off the BOW's lap.
A thought passed through Leon's mind at the positioning, but he couldn't really accept or believe what he had been set up to receive until he heard and felt a light smack against his right ass cheek. He was more stunned than hurt by the blow.
Rough fingers danced over the abused cheek, barely putting any pressure against his skin as it touched him. Then the fingers disappeared and the palm came down again, but this time on his left ass cheek with quite a bit more force than the first smack. Once more, the fingers lingered and stroked his ass where he was struck before withdrawing to deliver a harder blow to his opposite cheek.
It suddenly registered to Leon what the Tyrant was trying to do. It was learning to what extent and strength it could safely spank him. Spank him?!
The outrage and humiliation of what the Tyrant was doing to him was too much for Leon to take. He furiously wiggled and squirmed even harder on the Tyrant's lap.
Leon was further horrified as he recognised an unaccountable ache building in his loins with the spanking and caresses over his burning skin. But his attention wasn't long on his growing erection as the Tyrant's smacks and slaps started raining down on his alternating ass cheeks harder and faster; the loud whack of a palm on defenceless flesh sounding obscenely loud in the silence of the office.
He didn't cry; Leon gritted his teeth and took the punishment like a man. After what felt like hours, his mind went numb with the pain and it had taken a while for Leon to realise he had stopped struggling-- and with that the spanking stopped as well.
His skin was on fire. Leon could imagine the flesh on his buttocks to be a bright, cherry red from the blows which had rained upon it.
The Tyrant released his hands then, but Leon could not even begin to think of moving or pushing away from where he lay limp over the creature's knees. His whole body was shivering, as much from pain as it was from shock for the abuse meted out to him.
Leon thought his buttocks would have surely gone numb from the pain. But an unfathomable jolt of arousal shot through his body when cool fingers lightly skimmed over his tortured flesh. If he was confused and dismayed by his body's reaction, the Tyrant appeared very pleased as it continued to lightly caress his painful skin. Leon's face burned in shame as he felt his erection very distinctly wet the lap he was draped over with its pre-come.
From lightly petting his sore rump, the hand lifted away and Leon at first feared that the Tyrant meant to continue spanking him. However, the hand soon returned to slide wet fingers along the crack of his ass.
The thought of fighting the intrusion briefly crossed Leon's mind, but he swiftly discarded it. His earlier defiance had prompted a devastating spanking. He couldn't imagine what further rebellion would bring upon him, and he also realised he was going nowhere with his resistance. How ever much he wished it otherwise, Leon knew he was going to be raped and currently his best chance of survival was to cooperate.
Considering how carefully the Tyrant tested his limits to pain and punishment before speedily spanking him in earnest, Leon felt some assurance it wasn't going to brutally tear him to pieces with the rape. It was already telling that the creature was attempting to lubricate and stretch him in preparation of the ordeal to come.
Still, it had been awkward for Leon to keep his muscles relaxed enough to allow the slick fingers to enter him. The agony emanating from his buttocks made it hard for him not to tense up at the unwanted intrusion.
However, when the probing fingers found his prostate? Gods! Leon felt his cock hardening again. He never felt more humiliated in all his life as he squirmed on the Tyrant's lap while it finger fucked him and petted his rump intimately.
He had almost forgotten about the other Tyrants when two sets of hands lifted him off the lap of his spanker by his arms and yet another two pairs of hands reached to support his legs so that his body was suspended in midair; all without dislodging the two huge fingers which continued to stroke in and out of his ass.
Leon took a quick glance around him then and shut his eyes immediately, wishing he hadn't been so foolish. There were a lot more Tyrants in the room with him now; each one of them having stripped off their clothes to stand watching him while they stroked their impressive erections. He refused to think of counting the crowd.
Though bred on the large side, Leon was thankful that the Tyrants' cocks didn't look to him to be proportionally as large as their bodies. At the least, it pointed to someone in Umbrella having the sense not to make their creations overly endowed. It looked as if the Tyrants were as large as, or maybe just slightly thicker than his on again/off again fuck buddy Jack Krauser.
If he detached his mind, Leon thought he could pretend it was that one horrible weekend when Jack, a man who did not need assistance getting it up, had tried half a tablet of Viagra. The experiment resulted in an erection which just would not go away! Leon hadn't been able to sit comfortably for the following week and Jack was in the doghouse with him for almost a month.
The removal of fingers was enough to drag Leon's attention back to the Tyrant standing between his wide spread legs. A gentle hand brushed away the tears which gathered on Leon's cheeks, drawing him to notice the pulped mess of green herbs, with a familiar raw antiseptic scent, the Tyrant was holding near his mouth.
Leon stared at the primitively produced healing potion. In intensity of colour, he could tell it was a three herb mix; something which he knew would greatly lessen the ache of his cruelly spanked flesh.
Leon allowed the Tyrant to feed him the pulped mess. He wasn't about to refuse a gift which would ease his discomfort over the next few hours. As the miracle cure all did its magic, he could feel himself relax a little more with the lessening pain, prepared now for the ordeal about to be forced upon him.
Jack's team entered the Umbrella compound stealthily. They watched out for the cameras as they made their way into the facility, careful not to trip any of the alarms. However, while Jack would admit that they were good, the mission was proceeding too well. They were to learn why later when the smell of blood finally reached them.
The scent of death surrounded them, attesting to the state of the facility's occupants. It was not a pretty sight.
"What the fuck?"
The walls and floor were painted with blood and strewn with bodies and gore. Whatever it was that killed the guards ripped them apart and/or crushed their skulls.
The hearts of the team sank with every
step they cautiously took deeper into the facility. Any confidence
they had carried within them to bring their rookies out alive
dwindled with each horribly mangled body they found
18 hours earlier
A hard slap across his face shook Leon from the darkness he had been comfortably residing in. "Wakey, wakey, Mr. Government Agent." A second slap hit him on his opposite cheek before he woke sufficiently to draw away from the swinging hand.
"At last, our sleeping beauty awakens."
Leon growled as he focussed on the man in the lab coat standing before him. "If you're Prince Charming, I want to talk to the casting director." That earned him another slap across the face.
He didn't turn back towards his captor immediately, taking a moment to assess his current state and get his bearings. From the cool kiss of air against his skin, Leon knew he was still nude; completely nude now that someone had removed his gloves and boots.
They had chained him against the wall by his wrists, with his arms stretched overhead and his feet barely touching the floor. Leon could feel manacles about his ankles as well which told him his legs were probably restrained by a length of chain that would prevent him from kicking at his captors. He almost sighed inwardly at his utter helplessness. Leon tried to reason with himself that it was better than being dead, but after his recent ordeal, it was a debatable point.
"Still with us, Mr. Government Agent?"
"Yeah." He turned to face the annoying man. "What is it to you?"
"You handed us quite a shock, you know?" The Umbrella scientist told him honestly as his gloved hand casually touched one of the crusted trails of drying come staining Leon's inner thighs. Leon growled, but the chains about his ankles prevented him from closing his legs.
"We've never seen that reaction from our BOWs with a human male before." Leon glared daggers at the man as he continued to stroke his inner thighs intimately. "On the other hand, you accomplished something our female experiments could not.
"You lived through your experience of being share by our horde of Tyrants."
Leon couldn't hold back his flinch at those words. The fierce ache in his muscles, most especially his ass and legs, made him very conscious of his recent ordeal.
"We tried everything we could think of without impairing the power and effectiveness of this BOW. We reduced the size of its reproductive organ; made them aware and sensitive enough to understand its victim's arousal level.
"We even ingrained in the BOWs the ability to share." Leon winced at those words, reminded all too well of how the Tyrants cooperated and patiently took turns fucking and holding him for their compatriots.
"But-- we always ended up with a dead brood mare. So why are you different, young man?" The scientist finally asked him as he smeared his come stained fingers over Leon's left cheek.
"We did discover that apart from the expected hormones, your body chemistry was rather similar to our female specimens, you know? Would you care to tell us why?"
Leon could not hold back the bewildered look on his face. He couldn't think of-- "The Starlight Cruise..."
The scientist frowned at him curiously. "Yes? That tragic disaster happened a few months back. What about it? We lost a valuable-- Ahhh, so you are Leon S. Kennedy."
Leon stared in confusion as the man smiled warmly at him. "We heard whispers you picked up an infection on that fateful ship, Mr. Kennedy. Something which probably did change your biochemistry quite-- 'appropriately' as it now appears."
"What?!" The significance suddenly registered to him. "Other people get infected to become zombies or BOWs and I--"
"--became the perfect mate for a Tyrant." The annoying man grinned at him maliciously. "How so very interesting, Mr. Kennedy.
"It certainly appeared as if our Tyrants had a keen interest in your wellbeing. The efforts were primitive at best. However, they successfully kept you alive by feeding you raw cure-all herbs regularly.
"But I have to ask: Are you a perfect mate for our Tyrants alone? Did any of our other creations approach you amorously?"
Leon's face went pale as he caught onto the Umbrella scientist's line of thought. "You sick fuck!"
"This is all for the sake of scientific experimentation, of course." The man went on as if his captive hadn't spoken. "Shall we see what reactions you get from other BOWs, Mr. Kennedy? You do need to make it up to us for our having to abandon this base, after all. And we have some time to spare for a little experiment."
They found the labs still surprisingly intact and packed with monsters of every description, twisting and writhing in their Plexiglas fluid filled cells or snarling at them from within their cages. Of the lab technicians and controllers though, there were no signs apart from the stacks of reports and papers strewn about the desks, boxes, and floor. There were clear indications of an interrupted attempt to pack up the restricted materials.
At the least, the mission wasn't a complete failure. Even if they couldn't rescue their rookies, Control would be pleased with the apparent mother lode of information the base would supply.
Still, the nervous strike force weren't
any closer to discovering what creature had slaughtered the personnel
at the base, nor found any signs of their rookies yet
17 hours earlier
The scientist watched dispassionately as the guards entered the cell to wrestle the unfortunate Mr. Kennedy off the wall and onto the floor. He did not expect them to have much difficulty considering the ruffians were well practiced with the manoeuvre.
Granted their usual prisoners were women; an observation which greatly amused the guards when he made his usual offer. The guards had chuckled over their doing this to a male specimen and openly wondering how the scientists expected Kennedy to be bred when he lacked the necessary female parts.
However, they were game enough to accept their usual perk and have a go at Mr. Kennedy. After all, the guards had always been allowed to 'prep' their specimens by helpfully stretching and lubricating the relevant holes so that they wouldn't be assaulted dry.
Not that Mr. Kennedy really required this favour after being pumped full of come in a Tyrant gang bang. But this was a necessary Control for the sake of experimentation too.
And the man was not unattractive. Chained to the concrete floor with his arms stretched overhead and his legs bent and spread, Kennedy presented a very inviting figure. The guards certainly seemed quite taken despite the lack of womanly parts. And from comments which filter up to the scientist, they were even judging Kennedy's ass to be tighter than a virgin; not what one would expect him to be, given the generous proportions of the Tyrant horde. But the scientist supposed the small efforts of medical attention provided had healed him after his earlier ordeal.
The observing scientist especially relished Kennedy's expression of shock and horror when he became aware of his new ordeal. But of course Kennedy would hardly appreciate being subjected to human gang rape on top of his previous trial and the ones to come.
He would give the man points for intelligence though for completely giving in and offering no resistance when the assault began. It pleased the scientist to note that expected damages could be quite minimal as long as the guards refrained from being too energetic.
An eternity seemed to pass before the guards were finally done with their fun. And with their departure, the annoying scientist reappeared to squat beside Leon and take in his utterly debauched and come splattered state.
"Tsk! Honestly, just because there's a surety they could not impregnate you, they dispensed with the use of condoms because they wished more intimacy."
It surprised Leon to feel a warm cloth touch him to wipe away the muck smeared over his face and neck. "The Neanderthals just don't care about the variables they introduce when they claim to think for themselves..."
More warm, moist towels were deployed to wipe him down and Leon could feel his skin tingling with the relief being bestowed upon his abused flesh. From the scent he picked up, Leon guessed that the water with which they washed him was infused with green herbal cure alls.
The sting of an injection and the rush of liquid fire through his veins drew his attention back to the scientist who was emptying a syringe of green fluid into his arm. "What? Did you expect me to feed you pulped herbs?" The man sniffed disdainfully at his questioning gaze.
"Please! This is a modern facility. We have more than ample supplies to make life comfortable for our important experiments. You just need to ensure you stay important to us, Mr. Kennedy."
"Your hospitality arrangements need work if your idea of 'comfortable' includes gang rape." Leon grumbled petulantly.
"Didn't the guards give you a couple of good orgasms? That is, after all, to make up for the hardship of being used by a BO--"
"You arrange a human gang rape to alleviate the trauma of sex with a BOW?! You're mad!"
"Not at all. We use humans as a Control to judge a BOW's performance." The scientist seemed totally oblivious of the open incredulity Leon showed him. "As informative as the tapes we have of the Tyrants fucking you, they are abnormities. We'd rather have humans as the norm for comparison.
"I must say though, I was surprised to observe little discernable difference in the enthusiasm of the guards fucking you as compared to the usual female subjects-- apart from the obvious physical differences that is."
Leon growled at the scientist, but the man did not take the hint to shut up. "Quite fascinating, actually... You were completely passive and it should have dampened the mood. But all the guards were eager for a second round.
"Not that we'd let them. Shiftless creatures-- We have no time to waste on fun and games. We have a timetable to follow to ensure that we strip this place and leave before your Agency reinforcements arrive.
"Now where was I? Oh, yes! Was this enthusiasm also observable in your normal life, Mr. Kennedy?"
Leon glared at the curious scientist. Whether or not the words gave him cause to reflect on his life the few months after the Starlight mission, he refused to answer the question posed to him. Anyway, Jack had been his only lover since they became fuck buddies. He had been no more or less amorous over the last few months as compared to the previous year.
The reality of his situation suddenly crashed upon Leon then. Jack wasn't the only man to know his body now. Over the last several hours, he had been repeatedly ravaged and raped by an unknown number of strangers and Umbrella monsters. And more monsters were being lined up to fuck him...
The tears came unbidden. Leon didn't think of death very often, but when he did he'd always been sure it'd be in the midst of battle with a gun and/or a knife in his hands. Much like the way his team mates died. Right now, he was staring at the very real possibility of being fucked to death under the direction of a bunch of Umbrella scientists.
The raw humiliation and despair which filled him was enough to make Leon completely oblivious of the scientist's departure with his assistants. It was, unfortunately, almost impossible for him not to notice when a gate against one of the walls opened to allow three Lickers to enter the room.
Jack stared at the man-sized creature with an exposed brain, huge teeth, and an abnormally long tongue which lashed sluggishly in the fluid filled cylinder before him. It reminded him of the stories Leon told him about his 'adventure' in Raccoon City all those years ago.
The kid had been far from over the trauma of his escape from the doomed city in the early years of their association. Jack could remember the couple of times he had awakened holding a struggling wildcat and had to carefully wake the kid from his nightmare. If he recalled the descriptions correctly, Leon called the thing a Licker.
"Damn
ugly fucker, aren't you?
14.25 hours earlier
Leon closed his eyes and kept very still, trying not to draw their attention. But that was of course futile since the Lickers could scent him. The whip-like slap of their tongues in the air made him think of what he had read about snakes, where they used their tongues to help them taste the scent of their prey.
The first lash of a tongue against his chest surprised Leon enough to make him gasp. However, it had admittedly shocked him more than it hurt. A second and a third lash followed quickly, causing reddening welts to appear on his skin.
Before long, the tongues started to thrash at him with greater frequency, but Leon refused to scream over the flogging. Though it stung, Leon had enough previous experience in Raccoon City to recognise that the strikes were not made with full force and were not as bad as they could have been.
He had the impression that the Lickers were tasting him; trying to understand the prey that the scientists had tied down for them. When the lashes started to strike his inner thighs though, that was when Leon started to find difficulty in holding his voice.
He had gasped with the first accidental hit against his genitals. Then the first tongue had found and nudged against his ass and a rough sandpaper like organ tried to force its way in.
Leon's scream resounded in the cell and beyond as he felt his skin begin to tear.
"Captain!" All eyes turned to the soldier who stood in front of the open door at the other end of the room. "Found-- the lab techs..."
If
the corridors they had passed through were bad, the observation room
they discovered was carnage of an Armageddon magnitude. The same
question was on everyone's minds 'Just what the hell happened here?
14 hours earlier
The Tyrants sat on the bench in their rest area to await their Masters' summons. There were less of them now, though not by a significant amount. The intruders that they had eliminated earlier had caused some small dent to their numbers. It was, however, not in their nature to notice their missing 'brothers.'
It was not in their programming to think beyond the task presented to them by their Masters. However, there was a noteworthy event which stayed in their memories; a mate. Not the toys they were given before, but a true mate.
While the special little human had at first behaved badly and tried to push them away and defy them, it had been easily disciplined and brought under control. It had also understood and accepted the benefits of obedience. They kept it healthy and healed. All they asked in return was its submission and compliance which it gave them without further struggle. It was a good mate.
But their little Masters had earlier shooed them back to their rest area and took charge of the precious creature. It had annoyed them that they were not allowed to bring their mate back to their rest area. It was their mate. It-- was their right. They did not like it; not knowing what was happening to their mate. However, they had to obey their Masters...
A distant scream rose in the silence of the compound. As one, the Tyrants came to their feet. They recognised their mate's voice. They could hear the agony in his cry. Their mate was in danger. The little Masters had not protected their mate after they took it away from them. They needed to protect it.
The little bosses with the fire sticks did not like it when they started to walk out of their rest area. They were making a lot of noise and waving their fire sticks around. The brothers knew that they should obey the little bosses. However, that was until they noticed a familiar scent clinging to the small ones. The brothers closest to the little bosses picked them up to verify their suspicions.
The unmistakable scent of their mate was on the skin and clothes of the little bosses. This was an outrage. While the brothers shared among themselves, they did not accord the same privileges to other species. Not even to the little bosses or their Masters. Their mate should be sacrosanct. This was unforgivable.
They punished the little bosses. Their bodies made amusing cracking sounds when slammed into the walls or broken across their knees. There were many of the fire stick wielding little bosses. They were annoying, but on the whole easily dealt with.
Their mate was screaming again, reminding them of more pressing concerns. They needed to reach it. A few of the brothers fell to never rise again, but more of the wicked violators joined them in the dust. They would not be stopped from saving their mate.
With the screams guiding them, the brothers easily located the cell where the little Masters had put their mate. What they found upon crashing through the wall and entering the room set their blood boiling.
Three Lickers dared to taste their mate! From the numerous welt marks over their mate's skin, it was clear that the Lickers had delivered quite a literal tongue-lashing to their chained and helpless mate. Even as the Tyrants strode purposely into the room, they could observe their mate being seriously distressed by the seemingly oblivious Lickers.
The Lickers were quickly and messily dealt with. The humans though were becoming more annoying as the ones with the white coats, which designated their position as the little Masters, came rushing into the cell to yell at them.
Presented with the choice of listening to the little Masters to return to their rest area while leaving their mate where he was still obviously in danger, and taking their mate's well being into their own hands, the Tyrants broke their programming to put their mate's needs over that of their 'Masters'.
Besides, the little Masters tried to send the little bosses who smelled of their mate to enforce their demands. They had to punish the little bosses to stake their claim over their mate. None but they should have the privilege of the breeding dance with their mate.
Both the little Masters and the little bosses had just proved they were untrustworthy. They treated their mate cruelly and overstepped their rights. The brothers determined to protect their mate. All others would be eliminated.
"Dang!" Matt toed one of the white coated bodies whose head was meshed to a pulp. "What did this to these guys?"
"Tyrants..." The Captain muttered absently as she read the clipboard she picked up.
Jack knelt beside the pile of broken inch thick chains which lay in the centre of the room. "Fuck! Whatever it was that broke these, was a strong bastard."
He stared at the fresh blood stains on the floor before letting his eyes rove over to the oily humanoid shaped grey-green stains and the three reddish humanoid shaped stains which lay on the ground near by. It made Jack immediately recall the creature he had been looking at earlier. True enough, there were snaking lines of red near the three reddish stains.
"They chained their victims here..." The words left Jack's mouth the moment the thought flashed through his mind. "The sick fucks..."
"Cap!" Jack looked around as Ray came in through the door of the observation room. "We-- we found the bodies of our blokes. It's-- it's all of them accounted for except one, Cap. It's--"
"Kennedy." The Captain didn't look up from the clipboard.
"Er-- yeah. How did--?"
The announcement had Jack striding across the room to stand before his Captain. His clenched fist was trembling with emotion as his mind went wild to think of what might have been done to Leon in this room.
The Captain turned away from Ray to eye Jack for a moment before handing him the clipboard she held in her hands. Jack went white when he read what was in the notes.
"Those sick fucks!"
Nodding
her head towards the busted chains that lay in a heap on the blood
stained floor, the Captain voiced what was on everyone's thoughts.
"Whatever did this rescued him from Umbrella's experiments-- and
must still have him.
12 hours earlier
He woke in the darkness of the night feverish, but feeling unaccountably safe and sheltered in the arms of someone much larger than him. For a moment, Leon was reminded of his childhood and being snuggled up against his father who'd hold him safe from a night time thunderstorm.
A cold cloth rubbed over his face, giving Leon some relief from the heat. He knew he was burning up from a fever and the cool relief did some little bit to make him feel better, but there were also cold chills running through his whole body and he could not stop shivering in the comforting embrace he was in. Then there were the fierce abdominal pains, various aches in his muscles, and he was sweating up a storm.
How he came to be in this sorry state though stayed a mystery for a little longer; the last time Leon remembered feeling this bad was when he was poisoned. However, he couldn't recall running across any spide--
Leon came abruptly awake as he remembered what he had last been engaged in before he blacked out. The night sky greeted his eyes before a large shaped loomed over him. It took Leon's fuzzy senses a while to recognise the being hovering over him. Awareness of the well muscled arms which held him in a comfortable embrace also crept in.
The Tyrant tending to him exchanged the now warm cloth for a new cool wet rag, reminding him of his fever. Bits of memories were returning to him of the Lickers attacking and 'playing' with him and how the Tyrants had burst into the room to kill his tormenters.
Looking away from the surrounding Tyrants, Leon noticed the first aid spray can and the piles of green, red and yellow herbs laid near him. It registered then that they were trying to save his life.
Despite the fever, Leon's mind worked sufficiently to figure out what was wrong. Blood poisoning caused when the Lickers had torn into his ass and allowed bacteria to enter his already taxed system. If the Tyrants didn't cure him soon, Leon knew that he would slip into septic shock and die.
Leon briefly entertained the idea of leaving the land of the living rather than staying alive and in the clutches of the gang of Tyrants who liberated him from the Umbrella compound. For all their apparent concern, the Tyrants were clearly not able to render more capable medical care.
If Leon wasn't very aware that the Tyrants would be fucking his brains out if he had not been sick, he might have judged their actions as 'sweet' and their concern for his health 'touching'. But how ever much the Tyrants tried, Leon knew first aid spray and the herbs they had now wouldn't save his life.
It was the thought of Sherry and how upset she would be to be informed of his death which finally prompted his decision. "Blue--" He rasped the words to the Tyrant who had sprung to his side at his attempt to speak. "Blue herb--"
Leon couldn't be sure the Tyrants understood what he was trying to tell them, but he had done his part in making his choice to live and deal with the consequences. He wasn't even exactly sure if Blue herbs would work against blood poisoning either since they were general purpose poison antidotes. But Leon figured it would be no harm to try.
In less time than he thought was possible, Leon felt something moist touch his lips and a familiar smelling lump of pulped medicinal leaves was teased into his mouth. He tasted the blue herb as well as the booster red herb in the solid mess which he struggled to chew and swallow. It seemed the Tyrants were not taking a chance with his health and well being.
Leon's guess was thankfully proven correct as he felt his fever coming down, and the chills which racked his much abused body began to subside. More of the pulped herbs were gently applied to the bleeding and swollen tears about his anus which had resisted the earlier treatment.
For now, it looked like Leon won a few more hours of survival. He'd give thought to escape after he rested. With a sigh, Leon let himself slip into sleep in the arms of his protector.
Their mate was resting easier now, but they knew he was still weak from his injuries. As much as they would like to fuck their mate to re-establish their scent markings on him, his health was too delicate to handle them now despite the vastly reduced numbers.
Of the scores of Tyrants that used to exist, only eight had survived. However, as the one that carried their mate looked up at his 'brothers,' they were becoming aware that they were seven too many.
Without their little Masters, they had to make their own decisions. And though it was easy to concur on matters concerning the health and welfare of their mate, deciding what to do as a group was no longer simple.
Fortunately, before they can be ready to decide among themselves on rank and position within their little group, they first had to see to their mate's needs. They had to find him food, shelter and more of the blue herbs.
From the observation room, the team of agents cautiously followed the bloody footprints to another section of the compound only to find a busted garage door leading into the wilderness behind the base. Jack looked towards his squad leader with some worry. He knew exactly what the woman was weighing in her mind.
The Umbrella base was secured and most of the cadets found. They had already sent a signal out for the clean up crew to come in to take charge of the base. The only loose end was one missing rookie and the surviving Umbrella monsters who had slaughtered all of the human personnel at the base.
Their squad numbered ten blokes who had more fire power than the rookies, and probably the Umbrella guards as well. However, dare she risk them in an attempt to track down and rescue one man from an unknown foe?
"We move on." The Captain announced at last as she turned to look back at her squad. "We've never abandoned a man before; I'm not going to start now.
"But
move carefully and quietly. We're not going to do a lick of good
for Kennedy if we get careless and die before we liberate him.
10 hours earlier
The fever broke and their little mate was finally resting comfortably. The agreement came reluctantly, but the brothers decided that the one whose overcoat was most intact would have the privilege of holding and caring for their mate for the rest of the night.
From what little the brothers knew of humans, they did not like the cold and always covered themselves up in many layers of cloth. They had been terribly remiss in not securing clothes for their mate before they left their erstwhile home.
The custodian brother wrapped his arms around their mate to surround it with his body heat. From the way it sighed and unconsciously pressed its body against the brother, their mate appreciated the sharing of warmth. It seemed innocent and comfortable enough arrangements.
However, left alone with their mate, the custodian brother could not resist temptation. Hidden from the watchful eyes of its brethren beneath the voluminous trench coat, the brother gently touched and examined the small and fragile human in its arms.
The brother first carefully examined their mate to make sure the various cuts and tears the hated Lickers had left behind were truly healed. For a while earlier, the brothers had all been worried for its health. Now, however, the danger appeared safely passed and their mate whole again.
That being the case... This seemed too opportune a moment to have some private time with their mate for the brother to resist.
While he really did not have a problem sharing with his brothers, an underlying feeling of possessiveness could at times feel uncomfortably prominent. The brother couldn't exactly pin point why he felt so selfishly inclined. However, the fact of the matter was, he really desired exclusivity.
Right now, for these brief few hours before dawn, he could have it with their mate. He wasn't going to waste the opportunity.
He prudently clamped a hand over the little human's mouth to muffle any cries it might make. This move marked their mate's awakening, but it didn't try to pull away or struggle. That was good. The brother would not have been pleased if it did. He was already risking his brothers' wrath to sneak this intimacy.
He could feel his mate trembling in his arms. Whether this was from cold or fear, he didn't know. However, it was a good enough prompt to him to start.
He could feel his mate biting his hand with his slow entry. It did not matter to him. The little one's teeth did not cut deeply enough to draw blood.
The illicit pleasure of this private mating dance was exquisite. Still, he kept enough sense in him to not hasten his pace. He truly did not want to injure his mate, and he did understand that he could possibly tear the fragile human to pieces if he was too rough.
It felt like forever passed before his mate's buttocks were finally pressed against his pelvis. Both he and his mate were now panting and sweaty, and the pleasure which coursed through his veins from this intimate possession was well worth the effort.
He felt trickles of moisture flowing over the hand he had clamped over his mate's mouth. A small part of him recognised the fluid as tears and that his little mate was in distress, but the larger part of him was too lost in lust to care.
"Think the kid's still kicking?" Matt nudge an empty first aid can from the pile of discarded leaves and twigs they had found surrounding a make shift camp fire.
"Seein' how they're bothering to use this stuff, they want 'im healthy. Besides, we'd have found a body by now if he was dead. "
Jack forcefully kept himself from flinching at the word 'dead'. He was very aware that his Captain was keeping a careful eye on him.
"No one's explained why Kennedy's been treated so special yet, Captain." Jack looked at his squad commander with a bit of challenge in his tone. "Why'd what-ever-it-is-- those 'Tyrants' take him alive when they slaughtered everyone else at the base."
"Shit,
I'd like to know myself.
9 Hours earlier
They were discovered. The other Tyrants were pissed with the bold one. Leon just wanted to crawl away and hide. He didn't want to remain lying nude and vulnerable at the feet of his 'arguing' captors.
He counted eight Tyrants and thanked the gods for this greatly reduced figure. He could probably handle that number easily. A bout of hysterical laughter caught in Leon's throat for the thought of his feeling any confidence regarding the gang rapes he was sure to be subjected to.
A few more minutes passed before Leon determined that his captors were too engrossed in their argument to care what he did. With one eye on the crowd of Tyrants, Leon slowly crawled to the side of the fast flowing river.
The Tyrants had momentarily stopped their conversation to watch him when he reached the water. However, seeing that Leon was only taking a drink and then gingerly splashing the cold water over his skin to give himself a cursory wash, they swung their attention back to their 'problem'.
Leon stared at the fast flowing river. In his current weakened state, it would be suicidal for him to enter the waters and attempt to use the river to escape his captors. He struggled just to crawl; there was no way he'd be able to swim.
He closed his eyes for a moment to take an assessment of his physical condition. The herbs had healed the worst of Leon's injuries, but he was still covered in half faded bruises and ached fiercely-- and...
He had had more sex force upon him in the last 24 hours than he ever had in his 24 years of life. After this experience, Leon swore that he would be perfectly content if he never had sex again.
Besides, he never told the man, but Jack had been his only chosen lover. And Leon wondered, should he survive, if Jack would ever want to touch him again... Leon furiously blinked away his tears and tried to blank his mind.
He angrily told himself that his tears had nothing to do with Jac-- Krauser. He was just overwrought from his ordeal. He was sick and tired of being everyone's fuck toy-- of being fucked. If it had been up to Umbrella, Leon knew that they'd have paraded every living thing at the base into his cell to fuck him.
Right now, however, he was a prisoner of a group of Tyrants... One of whom had just fucked the shit out of him through the night. And he knew it wouldn't end here with this internal disagreement among his captors. He knew it was a surety the Tyrants would be gang raping him again and...
Leon fell into the river before the Tyrants realised what his intention was. He stayed limp, letting the waters carry him away.
Leon couldn't say that he particularly cared if he drowned or not. In fact, he thought it to be a cleaner death.
The crew stood back and waited as their best tracker scanned the clearing to try and 'read' what had occurred hours earlier. "Well, Ben?"
Ben whistled long and low. "Gotta give the kid points for daring, if not good sense... He crawled from over there and slipped into the river right here."
Their eyes followed the fingers pointing at the messy tracks. "Have a good enough indication there were eight of those things with him. Seven now, apparently--
"One of them got put down right here." The large humanoid slime stain stood out clearly in the afternoon sun.
"About half the bunch entered the river over there and the rest ran along side." Ben reached for his map to give it a look over before coming to his feet. "Hope the kid had a plan to get out of the river. There are some wicked rapids further down."
The
Captain laid a hand on Krauser's shoulder as they set off down the
river. It was a thought shared by a few of them that perhaps Kennedy
hadn't cared if he managed to escape alive
9 Hours earlier (shortly after Leon's 'escape')
The brothers had thought their mate fainted and fell into the river. The one who was found abusing the frail human thus had no more defence and was dealt with harshly by half of the family while the other half dived into the river. It was a hard swim for the brothers who took to the water, but they managed to reach their drowning mate before he hit the rapids.
It had distressed them to have their mate struggling and screaming in their grip. As unfathomable as the thought was, the brothers came to realise that their mate hadn't fallen into the river accidentally, but had deliberately tried to kill himself. This angered them.
Recalling their first disciplining session, one of the brothers quickly turned the human over a knee to spank him again. At the least, their mate knew better than to struggle this time and quickly went limp in their grip.
They did not spend very long turning his buttocks red. However, the Tyrants also knew a spanking was not enough and that they had to be sure their mate understood his status with them.
They tumbled him off the lap of his spanker onto the sandy riverbank and quickly secured him on his back and wrenched his legs apart. He had cried and whimpered, but submissively did not struggle.
They did not fuck him immediately though. They remembered that it was not very long ago when he had been so cruelly abused by three Lickers who had torn into his frail body and was further raped by the brother who was supposed to care for him through the night.
While waywardness had to be punished, they did not want their mate to hate or fear them. He had to be taught his position. But out of concern for his health they could do it gently.
The brothers fucked their mate tenderly. Each taking their time to softly stroke his face and body soothingly, trying to get him to stop his crying before they firmly slid their cock into him.
It was difficult to curb their enthusiasm. The lingering scent of the traitorous little bosses and the trespassing Lickers called to them to be replaced and for their claim to be resolutely exerted. However, as much as they wanted to fuck their mate with greater force and fervour, they understood that he was in too poor health to currently endure taking all of them in a more energetic fashion.
Still, time and again, the little human would make tiny, delicious noises of distress and pain which they forced themselves not to respond to with a quicker pace. It was difficult to hold back and stop themselves from slamming their bodies against their mate's upturned and quivering, cherry red buttocks.
By the time each of the brothers had their turn, their mate appeared sufficiently cowed and docile. He had even stopped crying and accepted being picked up and carried without protest or struggle. They felt confident that their mate would refrain from showing any further rebellion.
Still, it seemed prudent that they avoid setting up camp near the river from now on. If their mate needed water, they could easily carry it to him.
The Captain sighed as she looked at the gloomy expression on their resident tracker's face. "How bad?"
"They dragged him out of the river right over there." Ben told them sorrowfully as he nodded towards a patch of scuffed sand and weeds. "And-- brought him over here-- where--"
He didn't need to go on. There was a very distinct impression left in the sand. An obvious mark of a man-sized body laid on it, with numerous depressions which could have been knees placed between spread legs.
Jack cursed under his breath. "Why can't they leave him be?! What happened around here that there are whole squads of god damn perverts banging the kid at every turn?"
No one had an answer for him. Jack swore to himself that he would get to the bottom of this privately if he had to.
"The kid isn't going to last much longer if this keeps up." The Captain growled to them grimly as she gestured to her squad. "Let's move on.
"And
stay on the alert! Remember, we won't be able to help Kennedy if we
get ourselves killed first.
5 hours earlier
Leon woke up later that morning lying upon a bed of dead leaves, cold and stiff. At first, Leon wasn't sure what to think about his continued status of being alive and a prisoner of a gang of Tyrants. Then he firmly chided himself for that moment of weakness which made him choose to drown rather than try to figure out a solution to his situation.
When he could have allowed himself to die from blood poisoning earlier, he had chosen to advise his captors on how to save his life. Agency training had always been about survival. He was alive despite the hours of abuse heaped upon him, and that was a victory in and of itself.
His captors were creatures of great strength, though low intelligence, Leon told himself that he could surely outsmart them. With his determination back on the right track, Leon took a quick assessment of his current physical condition.
Being 'disciplined' again had not been pleasant. And Leon's rump was hurting enough to remind him of the spanking and the little gang bang which followed.
Still, this was the least number of 'lovers' he'd had to put up with on the mission so far. Plus, Leon knew they had been unaccountably gentle with him or he'd be in worse shape than he was now.
A cursory glance around the camp told him where his captors were scattered in the area relative to him. This seemed curious to Leon. Considering his earlier attempt to escape, he thought at least one Tyrant would be within arms reach of him.
Then he recalled the argument he had witnessed before he tried to escape into the river. And his eyes narrowed slightly in thought to note that there were just seven Tyrants with him now.
'Trouble in paradise...' A slight breeze through the camp made Leon shiver on his bed of leaves, and prompted a plan to take shape in his mind.
Leon meekly crawled off his bed of leaves towards the Tyrant who sat poking at the fire and the cooking breakfast. He was very aware all the Tyrants in the camp had suddenly turned to watch him.
Without being too obvious about it (though with a care for his seriously aching body) Leon added a sensual roll to his hips in his slow progress towards the Tyrant beside the fire. Jack had always claimed that Leon looked hot when he playfully stalked him on all fours. Leon could feel the heat in the eyes which were on him now, giving more credence to Jack's opinion.
With an appealing though submissive look up at his target Tyrant, Leon crawled onto its lap to snuggle and let his body drink in the heat of its fire warmed clothes. An arm hesitantly came around to rest over Leon's shoulders, making him sigh slightly with the added comfort.
The tension in the air was palpable. Leon nuzzled deeper into the possessive hold of the Tyrant beside the fire and buried his smile in its coat. Things were finally looking up.
As much as the Tyrants were initially able to 'share' him, this was clearly at odds with their individual wants and desires; perhaps even instincts. His earlier experience with Tyrants certainly made him think they were solitary rather than social creatures. It was an insight which Leon wished he had realised on the river bank when he had seen the Tyrants being angry with the one who tried to secretly fuck him that morning.
As long as he did not give the Tyrants any trouble, they would begin to look at their current situation through selfish eyes with a desire to possess him exclusively. With a bit of manipulation, Leon felt confident that he could surreptitiously instigate his captors into fighting among themselves.
If he was lucky, the sole survivor might even be weak enough for him to finish off on his own without a gun. He'd cross that bridge when he got there. Leon swore that he wouldn't lose faith from here on out and stay determined to outwit Umbrella's monsters.
Snuggled in the warmth of the Tyrant holding him, Leon day dreamed of finding a rock he could lift to bash in the head of a conjectural last captor. It was a future he was going to put all his energy into making come true.
They had watched Ben their pathfinder and tracker signal them to be more careful and quiet. The squad had covered a lot of ground since they left the Umbrella base.
There
was no reason for the monsters who took Kennedy to believe they would
be followed, so they didn't expect them to have travelled very far.
Considering how their only concern appeared to be for the care and
keeping of their captive, the squad were expecting to catch up soon
An hour earlier
After all the trouble they had had with their mate since they first met him, it was good to see him finally relaxing among them. It had pleased the brothers greatly to have him voluntarily approach them instead of keeping his distance. However, their mate's acceptance of their dominance was creating problems among the brothers.
In their determination not to fight among themselves over the privilege of having him sleep in their arms, they had forgotten about the fragility of humans and their need to be kept warm. None could fault their mate for seeking out the brother who was tending the fire.
Nevertheless, his track towards the brother on hands and knees before climbing into his lap to snuggle, had perceptibly raised the temperature of all who watched him. The brothers almost come to blows when the one tending the fire was reluctant to relinquish his hold on their mate.
They had since set the little human up on a bed of leaves under a tree with a discarded coat and a small fire near him to keep him warm. However, even that was maddening to the brothers.
Their mate had sat where he had been left in docile obedience, looking up only when they approached to offer him food or water. Perhaps it wasn't intentional, but the human would shy away when he accidentally touched the hand of a brother offering him food. And he'd blush very prettily when he was offered water to sip from the palm of a brother's cupped hand.
It inflamed them.
More and more the brothers found themselves looking upon each other as rivals and competitors. More and more, they thought it unfair to command their frail mate to service so many lovers. They knew that he was unwell, and would remain in poor health if they made too many demands upon his fragile body.
It was a small thing which set them off; a brother had approached their mate to offer him a handful of green herbs for his aches and pains. He was awarded with a smile and a shy touch; a gift which led to the brother raising a hand to gently stroke their mate's reddened cheeks.
Now
They could hear distant sounds of fighting. The squad couldn't imagine what woodland creature would be suicidal enough to attack a camp of Tyrants, but they were happy for an opportunity to strike while the BOWs were distracted. The proximity of the ruckus also let the squad know that they finally caught up with the target.
"Don't run! Arrive there out of breath and we'll not be of any help to Kennedy." The Captain hissed at them urgently as she firmly set the pace at a fast walk.
Krauser reined back one of the more eager members of the troop. "You saw the bodies. We know there're just seven, but we haven't yet seen what kind of monsters these Tyrants are.
"Remember! They slaughtered the humans at the base."
It wasn't easy to hold themselves back from rushing into action. The squad had been ready for it since they landed outside the Umbrella base what felt like an eternity ago, and they were all impatient to meet the enemy to rescue the sole surviving rookie.
As it was, they kept enough sense to slow their step and stealthily approach the enemy camp. The sight which greeted them caused even their old veteran of a Captain to drop her jaw in shock.
They saw the enemy first before noticing their abused and fragile looking rookie lying under a tree and safely away from the battle ground. The lumbering greyish-green monsters were hulking creatures.
For that stunned instance, the squad was fortunate the Tyrants were in a pitched battle among themselves. Then training reexerted its presence and the humans managed to recompose themselves and stand at the ready when the surviving three Tyrants became aware of the intruders and redirected their aggression.
Damn, but the bastards could take a lot of punishment. The squad's formation was quickly broken as the Tyrants rounded on them with outstretched arms and lay about them with wild haymakers. How ever many bullets the men were unloading into the massive creatures, they just refused to fall.
Jack yelled and fired desperately at one of the Tyrants who caught hold of Matt in a moment of inattention when he was reloading his shotgun. Two more guns joined his rapid fire tattoo of death, but that proved to be too late for Matt who fell with a crushed skull before the Tyrant finally went down.
Ray was the next to fall as he tripped and was stomped into the ground before he could get back on his feet. The Captain and Ben took quick revenge with a grenade and a full clip of bullets in the Tyrant's back.
The last Tyrant was craftier. It had used their distraction when dealing with its compatriots to reach for and uproot a tree, then swung it into them before they could point their weapons its way.
Jack wasn't too proud to admit he nearly shit himself when he looked up, after his head stopped ringing, to see the Tyrant holding the tree trunk over its head ready to bash him into the ground. He had been all too aware of his TMP lying what felt like a mile away from him as he stared death in the face.
A sudden burst of gunfire caught the Tyrant in the back, making it stagger to one side and allowed Jack to twist away in the opposite direction. Jack rolled desperately until he found himself lying near Ben who was carefully trying to untangle the strap of his gun from his broken arm to hand it to him.
The bark of a heavy shotgun sounded in the air again, drawing Jack's attention back to the staggering Tyrant which had turned to face its attacker. However, it was clearly too late for the BOW to do anything in retaliation. It had finally taken enough damage to fall. Its killer, however, did not seem to care to stop shooting at it.
No one made a move to stop Kennedy from emptying Matt's reloaded shotgun into the disintegrating corpse. For a long moment, no one dared even to speak when Kennedy finally laid the empty weapon on his naked lap.
Picking himself off the ground, Jack stomped up behind Leon, making enough noise to 'rouse the dead' just to be sure the kid heard his approach. "Y'know, Leon?" Jack grumped as he knelt beside him. "I could have sworn that we were supposed to be saving you and not the other way around."
Leon let out a cough of laughter as he turned to look at Jack. For almost a full minute, Jack found himself locked in Leon's anguished gaze before his arms were suddenly filled with the younger man's body.
No one said anything. Not a single comment was made of the broken sobbing or the death grip the rookie had around Jack's waist. After all he had been through, the kid had the right to collapse and have his breakdown now that he was finally safe with friends and allies surrounding him.
Jack Krauser was angry and he didn't care who knew about it. A class of nine out of ten rookies were killed; Jack lost two of his buddies to Umbrella's monsters; most of the surviving squad, including him, were laid up or receiving out patient treatment for busted limbs and/or bruised ribs; his lover had been severely abused, traumatized and left in poor shape-- And no one could offer a decent explanation why the 'Tyrants' had given Leon this special treatment.
Jack had his suspicions though. Upon their return to base, the Agency doctors had been quick to whisk them all away for treatment and observation. However, they hadn't exactly brought Leon to the same trauma unit as the rest of the squad.
Jack had seen them enter the laboratory wing where Leon had stayed for half a day before being wheeled out to the standard recovery area. Something wasn't sitting right about the situation...
"There's more to the world then meets the eye, Lt. Krauser."
Jack swung around in startled surprise at having his mind 'read'. He had thought he was alone in the corridor of the medical facility. "Col. Wesker."
"At ease, soldier." The older officer nodded to him as he adjusted his dark glasses. "Have you thought over my offer?"
Jack frowned at him. The suggestions which had been put to him had been unbelievable and disturbing when Wesker first looked him up, but after this mission-- Jack wasn't so sure anymore. "Maybe..."
"The Agency set this up, you know? Putting Kennedy in the path of Umbrella BOWs, that is."
"What?"
"There was a change in his biochemistry-- after his mission on the Starlight Cruise."
Jack recalled that mission. Leon had been slapped into quarantine for nearly a month after it when he returned oozing green puss from a small cut on his neck. The poor guy had been bored stiff and really appreciated the little gifts of magazines and books which Jack had sent to him. When he was finally released, no one could catch hide or hair of either of them on that first weekend of liberty. As far as Jack recalled though, nothing had come of the medical scare.
A thought suddenly occurred to him. "Wait a--"
"The doctors have already corrected his biochemistry." Wesker told him casually as he tapped out a cigarette and lit it. "The condition showed little advantage.
"Granted it saved his life, but the Tyrants raped the shit out of him and he was almost fucked to death by other humans and BOWs."
Jack swallowed hard. His instincts told him that Wesker wasn't lying to him. It fitted all too well. The Agency which they worked for-- He couldn't believe-- hadn't wanted to believe they'd play with the lives of their agents like--
"Think about it, Krauser. This is whom you work for right now." Wesker strode away leaving Jack alone in the corridor once more.
Jack's head was swimming as he continued on his way to locate Leon's recovery room. It didn't take him long to find his quarry. Gods did the kid look shattered.
Jack knocked on the door to catch Leon's attention but almost flinched at the haunted eyes which looked up at him. He could feel the anger well up within him again to think of what his lover had been subjected to.
Beaten, abused and gang raped by Umbrella's guards and monsters for near the entire time he had been on this mission... And if Wesker was speaking the truth, the Agency had allowed this to happen just because they were-- curious.
Jack shook those thoughts from his head as he turned his attention to his lover. "So when are they getting rid of you?"
Leon's smile was strained as he looked at his hands twisting in the sheets. "In three-- maybe four weeks. The doctors-- found the extra-- hormones which made the BOWs--It-- it's corrected now."
Krauser desperately hoped Leon didn't notice him stiffening at his unasked for confirmation of Wesker's words. He knew it was much too easy that the Agency doctors could have been told then discovered how to 'cure' Leon so quickly.
"The Tyrants-- overdosed me on cure all herbs and first aid sprays though. I need-- to detox and-- heal-- first..."
"Just official sanction to goof off and relax then." Jack gave Leon an encouraging smile to try and jolly him out of his serious mood. "They're not going to insist you spend all that time in bed here, are they?"
Leon shrugged at his words. Jack came closer and took a seat on the bed near his lover. The man was changed-- scarred... Jack knew he was no longer the same man he had trained with and was fuck buddies with for the last few years.
As much as he knew Leon would belt him one for viewing him so, he did think that right now the man was looking very vulnerable and needy in his hospital scrubs. And Jack could feel a part within him which just wanted to take the man in his arms and never let go.
He thought again about Wesker's insinuation. Under no circumstances would Jack think of ever telling Leon what he knew. Not especially this soon after his ordeal.
In his current state of mind, Jack was sure that the man would shatter if he found out the Agency had deliberately placed him in the path of the Umbrella BOWs, knowing he might receive 'special' attention. If it hadn't been for the Agency's 'curiosity'--
"Jack?" He looked up at the timid call to see Leon peering at him from behind his fringe. "Would-- you still-- kiss me?"
"What?"
"No one tried to kiss me. I was fucked-- the Umbrella guards-- used my-- mouth-- but I-- I brushed my teeth and used mouth wash. I--"
Jack had to stop Leon before he broke his heart with his insecure babbling. "Leon-- you talk too much."
He leaned closer slowly, giving Leon enough time to pull away if he changed his mind. Jack's hand came up to cup Leon's cheek as he laid a sweet kiss on his lips. This was very different from their usual hungry, lust fuelled kisses of the past. But Jack was to his surprise finding it to be no less satisfying.
The feeling of something wet touching his cheeks made Jack draw back slightly to find himself looking upon Leon's tear filled eyes. "There were-- so many-- Jack-- I'm-- sorry-- they-- Do-- Are--"
"Hey." Jack quickly interrupted him, suddenly insightful enough to guess what his lover was trying to say. "Tell me something, Leon. Are you still breathing?"
As Jack had intended, the question distracted Leon. "Th-- that's a silly questio--"
"So give me the obvious answer."
Leon frowned at him, clearly puzzled at where he was leading their conversation. "Yes-- I'm still breathing."
"That's how long you'll be desirable to me, Leon." Jack took his hands in his and looked him right in the eye. "As long as you're breathing, I'll always want you. And nothing will change that."
A bright, watery smile spread over Leon's face. "That's the sappiest thing I've ever heard, Jack."
"Way to break a mood, sour puss." Jack grinned at him.
A snort of laughter escaped Leon's lips before he could help it. That was enough to start both of them off. In seconds they were holding each other and laughing almost hysterically, with Jack moaning theatrically every now and then for the pain emanating from his bruised ribs.
They well knew that Leon would be undergoing counselling for several months (or years) to come. But for just those few minutes, life was all right again.
They had spent the night together in Leon's bed. Nothing strenuous; Jack let Leon dictate how far they'd go. It didn't surprise him that the younger man only wanted to cuddle.
All the same, this had to be the first time they'd refrained from sex and just slept together. But Jack understood. After his horrible ordeal, Jack was quite sure that Leon wouldn't want to have sex again for a very long time. Besides, Jack figured he still owed Leon for the Viagra misadventure of long ago.
Jack looked down at the sleeping man he was cradling protectively in his arms. He was suddenly aware of how serious it was becoming between them. They had never used the 'L' word with the other. Neither of them could without fearing the other laughing in his face. It was still the same, even after Leon's ordeal.
Hell-- their whole relationship had revolved around sex and-- being fuck buddies. Yet here Jack was contemplating staying by Leon's side without using sex to occupy their time together. The notion scared him.
Jack knew that his squad would be moving on in a couple of weeks, and that it could be another month or more before his path might cross with Leon's again. If there was a time to leave and take up Wesker's offer, Jack knew it would have to be then. After all, Wesker had already warned him that they would be faking his death if he took up the assignment.
It would give him and Leon a clean break. Jack would go his merry way, and Leon was strong enough on his own. God forbid that the kid would depend on anyone. Leon wasn't the type to be clingy. And Jack knew the little wildcat wouldn't change even after this nightmare mission. Still, he'd keep a distant eye on him for a couple of weeks just to be sure.
Maybe-- if Wesker's setup proved to be as good a place as he promised-- and if Jack's feelings hadn't changed-- He'd come back for Leon. When the time was right...
If the Agency continued to fuck with Leon, Jack was quite sure he'd be able to persuade him to join them easily. But that was something to think about in the far off future.
owari
Thanks for reading.
firewolf