A/N: Yay, progress. :) Includes more crazy!Piers.

Death by the dozens, men and women alike. The hospital was riddled through with it as Chris and Piers stepped out of the front entrance and into the open air. The doors fell shut behind them, and Piers took little more than a few moments with an upturned gaze toward the sky to bask in the fresh feel of freedom. It'd been so long since he had felt even the slightest sense of normality; soon enough, the two of them would be far out of reach.

Just them. They wouldn't need anyone else.

"Where's your car?" The mutated sniper averted his eyes from the setting sun above to turn toward his Captain.

Chris couldn't clear away the knot in his stomach that indicated what they were about to do was one of their worst ideas yet. It wasn't too late to turn around, to go back and-

"Captain?"

Brown eyes turned at the voice, and Chris didn't even realize until then that he'd been looking over a shoulder toward the building they had just come out of. It was Piers that prevented him from doing what was right; there was no way that the B.S.A.A. could ever take the sniper back after what he'd done to all of those people.

"This way," He settled for, going against his better judgement to save the one man who had sacrificed everything for him.

Piers followed behind, breathing hard from the pain of his mutated limb. Chris already had his keys out by the time they'd reached the car. For Piers, slipping inside the vehicle had been a tight fit and he had to hold his throbbing arm at an odd angle to prevent it from getting squeezed between his own weight and the door. It dangled down in an awkward curl toward the floor, most certainly uncomfortable, and Chris gave him a curious glance as the engine roared to life.

The mutated ace shifted in his seat with a soft grunt, "Just go."

"To where?" Chris honestly didn't know what Piers was expecting.

"Some place that's not here." Mismatched orbs turned to stare out the window with a last glance directed toward the building that had been his temporary prison. "Wherever the B.S.A.A. won't find us."

The Captain furrowed his brow at that, "Piers, I can't just-"

"Please, Chris." Hushed, not forceful. The sniper barely sounded like himself.

A heavy exhale emanated from the older man, and Chris averted his attention toward the front window as they pulled out of the lot. He had no clue where the hell they were going, just that Piers suddenly wanted to put distance between himself and the one organization he once claimed had been part of the reason he injected himself in the first place. The ace wasn't thinking properly, he couldn't have been.

Yet, Chris wasn't so sure that the B.S.A.A. would offer the care needed, not after what happened earlier with the doctor. That in itself left him in a conflicting position.

So, he drove.

He didn't know how far or for how long, but neither one of them spoke another word further until after they had pulled into the lot of a hotel. Piers eyed him then in wonder as if he was mad, with plump lips curved into a frown. "How am I supposed to-"

"There should be a door in back. I'll open it for you from the inside, you'll just have to stay out of sight." Chris answered as he pushed open the car door.

Piers leaned over in his seat as the Captain stepped outside, "And if this doesn't work?"

Chris paused to briefly eye the building before craned his neck forward to glance back inside the vehicle that Piers had yet to leave. "We'll make it work." That said, the Captain pulled back to close the door and proceeded to make his way toward the entrance.

Piers stared after him, uncertain with the plan. If anyone happened to see him... He glanced toward the sky outside the window, which had gained a black tint to it after the lengthy period of time they had been driving. It was the middle of the night, the dark was on his side - but even that would only last until he entered the building.

Chris was already out of sight.

With no further time to lose, Piers shoved open his own door after glancing around to make sure there were no unwanted observers nearby. He half jogged toward the nearby alley to circle around in search of the other entry point. Upon passing by a dumpster, he nearly tripped when a hand clutched itself over his ankle.

Mismatched eyes snapped downward to see a human shadow, possibly some back alley drunkard who couldn't make do anywhere else. The man leaned closer, eyes blinking in the dark as though attempting to clear his vision. "Yer... Yer not- What are ya?"

Piers twisted his foot, and the grip only tightened. There was a spark along the length of his arm that imitated his irritation, and the hand retracted with a suddenness as the body below backed itself up against the wall in its already sitting position. "Yer not normal! That ain't right, it ain't natural!" Panic. It always started with panic. It was human nature to be afraid of the unknown. Hands lifted, swinging wildly as though they could keep the mutated soldier back. The man was sprouting mumbled nonsense now that was beyond the sniper's ability to decipher.

Chris wouldn't be happy if he found out that someone had seen him, they'd have to leave again and find somewhere else to stay. They already went through enough trouble, no more running. Not for that night.

Another spark and Piers edged a step closer. He eyed the man with a tilt to his head, mismatched orbs adjusted themselves to the surrounding dark where they focused on the frightened features.

"Won't hurt me..." The man uttered between whimpering cries, hopeful that it was just a figment of his imagination in his drunken state.

Crazy, the man was going crazy. Still, he had seen too much.

Piers lifted his mutated arm, pointed spikes shimmering each time the electricity ignited along the sickly infected skin.

"Can't hurt me!" The body below closed in on itself with hands raised to block the man's head.

The inhuman limb cut through the air in a single movement, and the cries died off with a gurgle.

There was no telling how long they'd be able to stay, but still it was a temporary reprieve and they could use the rest. Luckily, it didn't appear as though many people were actively moving about outside of their rooms, at least on the bottom floor. That did not however, mean they would be in the clear.

Chris circled his way around to the back, where he found the door he was looking for - not necessarily one he was supposed to use outside of an emergency, but he'd personally consider the current predicament just that. He shoved open the thick barrier with a single arm to expose the surrounding dark with a sudden stream of light.

There was a shuffle off to the side, and a shadow staggered into view.

"Piers? I've got us set up, we should be able to stay for-" The words died off as the sniper stepped closer.

The mutated arm was the first thing of note. No longer as big and thick as it had been mere minutes before, it had shrunken down to sickly colored skin meshed with a moss covering; a mixture of green and brown in hue. It didn't stand out quite as much as it used to, all but for the lengthy spikes that rearranged themselves to the tips of newly formed fingers.

Piers came to a stop only when he was situated barely two feet away from the older man, now fully in view of the light from inside. The once silvery-gray eye glossed itself over with veins of red that corrupted the edges of the iris into bearing a similar coloration.

"How did-"

"My arm was bothering me," Piers cut him off before the question could fully form itself, already expecting confusion from his Captain. "Then it changed."

Chris stared for several moments longer, not quite sure what to make of that. It was difficult to tell whether the change was for the better or for the worse, but there was one fact that still remained clear; the infection had no way of just disappearing without aid. Whatever it was doing to Piers could have had very negative effects. The Captain turned to eye down the length of the hall behind him before he shrugged off his jacket. Brown orbs found their way back to mismatched hazel and newly red ringed gray as he held out the warm fabric, "Take this for now. It'll be easier to hide the mutation."

Piers briefly observed the offered jacket before slipping one arm in at a time to conceal one of the largest parts of his mutation. Chris was much bigger than he was, and the sleeves were both loose and long enough to keep his hands from view. It was just the side of his face now that would give him away. He pulled up the collar of the jacket, head dipped low as they started moving through the walkways. It was the best thing he could do to cover his mutated skin from sight as the door closed behind them, sealing away the pile of rotted flesh absent of the life it once possessed, body drained to the point where the skin tightened over bone, as though it had been lifeless for decades prior.

The two of them made their way toward the elevators, only slightly less worried now about avoiding unwanted attention. Piers stayed behind Chris at all times, mismatched eyes constantly aimed toward the floor away from any direct view of the few people who they did happen to pass by on their way up. The risk of being noticed was still plain in sight, but after the hell the two of them had already been through, it appeared as though they were granted a temporary reprieve from trouble as they reached the suite - safe and sound.

The moment they were through the doors, Piers paused after they fell into a close behind him. He hadn't actually expected anything outside of normal standards, the place was more than big enough to give them their fair share of room. A small kitchen, a living area, at least two bedrooms, one hell of a view-

"I wasn't sure how long we'd stay."

The Captain's voice cut Piers out of the temporary haze, and mismatched eyes blinked back to focus where they sought out the older man. "Couldn't they-"

"They won't find us," Chris already knew his worries, "Not right away. We should be clear for a few days before we have to move again."

Piers half-nodded, not fully sure he believed that as he stepped further into the room to get settled in. He moved over to one side, headed toward a door he assumed led to one of the bedrooms.

"Piers."

The sound of his name stopped him in his tracks, and the sniper glanced over a shoulder to gaze at the older man.

A short silence passed between them. Chris was clearly hesitating. "I'm... I'm glad you're back." He admitted, although he feared for the condition of his old partner. Something had changed in him, something... Inhuman, but not just in his body. He wasn't all there the way he used to be. The infection had taken its toll, yet through it all, Chris had every hope that Piers could still be saved.

For now, he was alive. That had to be enough.

The sniper nodded, plump, pouted lips curved at a corner to show his acknowledgement. He turned then, and continued on his way through the door where he stayed the rest of the night.

The next morning, Piers hadn't come out. Chris considered the possibility that he simply needed to adjust - he'd been through more than any one person ever should be. But it was also Piers he was dealing with - strong willed, determined, headstrong, unfaltering Piers. He allowed a few hours before he started knocking at the door after having already tested the handle and found it locked.

"Piers?"

"I'm fine, Chris."

Those were the only three words he'd gotten out of the ace for the entire day.

He made another attempt, later - when the sun had set and the moon was bright in the sky, nestled in a blanket of stars that sparkled around it with cheerful glamour.

This time, however, Piers didn't respond to his knocking or the sound of his voice. The Captain reached for the knob, which surprisingly turned under the movement of his wrist, no longer locked as it had been all throughout the day. The door creaked open, and Chris wasted no time at all with stepping inside.

The familiar lean figure sat inside the large windowsill off to the side, legs bent in upward curls so the knees could press to bared olive flesh. Piers had his arms wrapped around them, both human and mutated, hugging his own limbs tightly to his chest as his back rested against the wood behind him, his head leaned into the surface alongside it with mismatched gems of hazel and newly silvery-red staring out into the night sky that unleashed a gentle rain against the glass. Soft patters resounded as droplets distorted the clear barrier, but the sniper made no indication that he was bothered by it.

Chris stepped closer to Piers with slow footsteps, and took a seat across from the ace. "You're still awake," It was a near whisper, deepened from his own lack of rest. He'd been so worried for Piers as of late, it was one of the last things on his mind although it was needed. Finding the sniper awake saved him from the embarrassment of realizing he'd stirred the ace simply to ensure he was in good health. A man that had injected himself with a virus that could have easily twisted him into some sort of mutated monstrosity, barely recognizable, in good health. It was a ridiculous thought, Piers would never be okay until he was back to normal again, and Chris wasn't even sure that was really possible.

Piers never turned to greet him as a single shoulder twitched in the smallest shrug. "I haven't slept much since I got back." Soft, quiet, distant. Barely audible. No rest yesterday, none that day. Only what the drugs allowed during his... Captivity. Before that, there was too much pain to rest.

Chris rubbed briefly at an eye before his head lifted, gaze leveled back onto the younger man. "Bad dreams?"

"I don't get those anymore."

Chris nearly cringed at the sound of the voice. So far off, so lost. He prodded for more, "You don't? Everyone gets them, Piers."

Piers turned toward him then, with eyes that were clouded over and seemed to pierce directly through Chris. "Only the living. The dead don't dream."

For the span of a lengthy minute, Chris stopped breathing.

A chill ran down the length of the Captain's spine as he sat up at that, with eyes of brown that opened wider than before once the words fully registered. The tone was dry and absent of any pressure hidden behind it, and yet it simultaneously sounded freezing cold. Chris could feel cracks mark along the span of his heart, damaging it. A barrier of ice shielded the sniper, strong and unyielding despite the dents Chris had tried so hard to put in it. He wanted to melt away all the hurt, all the pain so that Piers could live his life again... But the frozen wall kept him out. He was denied the access he once had, and Piers suddenly felt far out of his reach.

"Piers..."

The sniper looked away again, and mismatched orbs returned to stare out the window. "I'd like to be alone now, Chris."

Chris wasn't sure if there was anything he could say to that, and he was terrified that he didn't know what to do.

"Who are you?" He found himself asking, with a tinge of pain clear inside brown orbs.

"...I don't know."

To Piers, he was no one important. A nothing. A speck of memory from the past that should have been forgotten. He was dead, dying, decaying. It was only a matter of time before he crumbled away into ash.

"Can I be alone now?" It was a simple query that one might hear from a child. Soft, light, almost innocent in nature to hide away all the sins of the future.

Chris didn't want to believe anything he was hearing. It hurt to listen, to think, to recognize just how broken the sniper had become. Piers had always been strong, unfaltering and loyal. To see him in such a condition shredded Chris to pieces that blew away with the wind, too far spread to ever be put back together.

"I'm so sorry, Piers." For being the cause of his infection, for ruining the young life of a man he'd come to care for dearly. For everything.

Piers gave no indication that he heard as he stared blankly out into the darkness behind the glass barrier of the window, listening to each drop of rain as they plopped against the clear surface, a temporary mark of their passing.

Chris pushed away from the windowsill to rise to his feet, guilty that he could not offer the proper amount of aid to the once proud soldier. "I'll find a way to bring you back. I swear it," It was a promise he had every intention to keep. Piers never deserved any of what he was forced to endure.

Heavy footsteps guided the Captain to the doorway, where he paused to offer a last look toward the ace. Piers didn't look like Piers anymore, not with that distant look in his eye as though he was rotting away from the inside out. Chris averted his gaze and stepped out of the room where he closed the door behind him and slid down it into a sit, stifling the sounds that tried to tear themselves from his throat as meaty hands clutched fistfuls of his own hair in distress.

Come back, Piers. Please come back. He found himself pleading in his own mind.

"You'll have to try harder than that." The voice filtered through the barrier of the door that separated them, muffled but audible, and it made Chris stiffen. He was right to think something was horribly wrong.

There were no more words to come after that. Just a sinister chuckle out of place behind the wood, using the sound of his partner's voice.