Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Leon has been here for some time, if he could keep tally marks he would, he wasn't given very much that he got to keep. Wesker was strict with him, nothing he could hurt himself with like crayons for example. Majority of his toys were soft play, the occasional plastic. Maybe that was why he was confused today when Wesker woke him and dressed him. 

"We have somewhere special to be today, Leon. I want you to be a good boy for me there." So they were going out. And Wesker dressed him in underwear then, real ones with no padding. It felt strange when he put his legs together after some pants were put on him. They weren't jeans but they were blue, and a blue shirt to match with a logo on one side of the chest of a horse.

Leon didn't ask why he wasn't in a diaper today. Actually, he didn't get to ask much when already socks and shoes were put on for him. Carried out of his nursery, becoming more awake with every minute. Wesker grabbed him a bottle from the fridge and headed out to the car with him.

The bottle's nipple shoved into his mouth, he holds it up to feed himself while he was buckled in, his pacifier clipped to the collar of his shirt.

"There we go, such a good baby for me. I'll feed you more when we get there." And he closes Leon's door with a slam.

He didn't know where they were going but it had been a couple of hours already. The bottle long finished and feeling the first signs of a filling bladder. Anxiety had a grip around him, what was he going to do with no diaper? Was he going to use a toilet when he needed it? He hasn't sat on one in... well, he doesn't remember.

This was out of state, wherever it was, he seen the signs leaving their state and entering a new one. And drove even more.

"Wesker, I gotta go potty." He finally cracked, wiggling in his car seat.

Wesker looked back at him from the rear view mirror. "You can hold it a little longer, we are almost there." Wherever there is.

They come up to not a small building but a single story, it was brown like weathered wood or maybe that was just paneling. Large windows in the front, a white door between them. Far away from any main roads, hidden by tall pine trees. The sign above the door spelled DAYCARE, each letter a different color, a childish font. It felt more like the building was put here just for Leon specifically, no children or parents for that matter know of this place. A part of Leon, buried lamely face down in sand and by weights under crushing pressure of water would suggest Wesker did construct this place just to torture him and bury that part of him better. The other part? He was excited because behind the tall chained fence he could see a playset fit with slides and swings, things to climb on.

He was unbuckled from his car seat and lifted up, as Wesker was getting him comfortable, someone steps out of the building.

It was Krauser.

"So you made it." He said. Wesker turns his head over to the side to look briefly before back at Leon. 

"Yes. And I brought the baby, he's going to have a ball here." He turns with Leon in his arms to take him inside, climbing up the wooden porch with him and taking him in.

It was cool inside, bigger too. A few large rooms and the kitchen in the back, a bathroom in between the play room and what looks like a TV or nap room. He was sat down at one of the tables, whining and tugging on Wesker.

"But! But I—!" He was hushed. 

"Not now." Wesker told him and stood up, walking away to talk with Krauser.

Leon sits at the table, this one was red, the seat was a long bench and cool under him. No diaper meant he felt things much closer than before. Rubbing his hand over the smooth surface, looking out the window he seen trees, a large patch of grass across the road. Did deer graze there? Was it for field playing? He hears distant laughing and turns back to look, seeing neither of them. He still needed to potty.

The bathroom was right there. He could get up and take himself. But could he even stand on his own? And if he did manage all of that, what does he do then? Just sit there? He was once conditioned to use toilets, most everyone was. It's a lot harder to wet your pants when you know you can use something better. But Leon had been conditioned out of that and into diapers. With no diaper on today, he was at a complete loss.

They come back quietly, Krauser holding something in his hand. Sitting down across from him, Krauser right across from him, he opens the jar with a pop of the lid and mixes the spoon inside. When it was presented to him, he opened his mouth to accept like it was wired in his brain to do so. Wesker sat next to Krauser, guiding him on what to do.

"Leon's a good baby, not too messy but when he misses some I scrape around his mouth with the spoon and feed it back to him." Wesker was training Krauser on how to care for him, as if he was really going to leave him here. 

The carrots were fine to eat on their own, it was a little hard to mess up puree carrots but it could probably be done. These were fine though.

His mouth was wiped clean afterwards and instead of Wesker picking him up, Krauser did. Placed on his hip and squeezed close to his side almost made him pop. He whines hard to show his displeasure at the way he was being held. "Please!" Leon begs, finally put on mute when Wesker shoves his pacifier into his mouth.

"Let's put something on the TV and play with him until nap time." Krauser suggested.

"Leon doesn't take naps." Wesker corrects. "No, he's lost that privilege when he got into things he knows he wasn't suppose to under the guise of a nap."

Krauser bounces Leon in his arms to try to comfort him, but all it did was shake up his bladder, whining and trying to put his knees together to stop himself from letting go.

He was set down in the playroom, surrounded by toys, the baby gate put back together, ensuring Leon was to be kept here for sometime. But his bladder! It felt like his brain was swimming in urine, his eyes yellow from how full he was. But the men tried playing with him, Leon just wasn't having in.

After so long playing with wooden train sets he couldn't hold back anymore. Spitting out his pacifier to cry out, sobbing as he soaks his clothes, the crotch of his pants darken and the smell hit instantly. 

"Oh, shit..." Krauser says, some form of sympathy in his tone for the baby.

"Leon!" Wesker was disappointed, a tone Leon knew to hide from. And he did try to hide, by crawling away from him. 

"No, Leon. Come here. You can't run from this." But Leon kept running until he was captured. 

"No! No! Please! I tried telling you!" Leon cried, lifted up around Wesker's arm and lifted off the ground, he was facing away from Wekser, his legs kicking around as his pants were pulled down to his ankles, his wet underwear pulled to his knees, stained yellow from his accident. 

His bare bottom has been stricked, earning a yelp and more wiggling. Leon tries to shove Wesker's arm away from him, but was pushed back and instinctively he put both hands out to break his fall with. But he didn't fall, Wesker was able to get a better hold and spank him again.

"You do not wet your pants, Leon! I thought I could trust you, I thought you could handle this!" Wesker scolds, slapping his bottom in quick succession before pausing. 

Leon's lip quivered and tears build in his water line, the sting coming back like an old friend that only caused him distress and fear. He was spanked again, quick swats that cracked when Wesker's hand connects. Leon cries, of course he cries, one hand going back to Wesker's arm around him to try to pry himself loose again.

"I told you to be good today and what do you do? You make a mess!" Wesker gave him thirty licks in total before putting Leon down on his knees and dragging him to the corner, screaming and crying the whole way.

He was sat on his sore ass, his face messy with tears as Wesker towers over him, making Leon cower. "No, sir! You do not wet your clothes and you do not run from me." 

Krauser had left in all of this, only coming back now with clean pants and diaper in hand. His eyes move over to Krauser, crying more.

Wesker wasn't having it, gripping his jaw to make Leon look back. "Don't look at him, look at me. I'm talking to you."

Leon looks back, fresh tears running down his cheeks. "You stay put in this corner until I come back for you. Then it's back to diapers for you because you clearly cannot handle anything else."

"But I tried to—" Leon was popped in the mouth for speaking out.

"No." Wesker spoke firm, manhandling Leon around to put his nose into the corner, sitting on his blistered rear. The floor felt cold to his skin, and it was nice but the pressure of sitting still hurt.

He sits there until he has calmed down, his bottom still hurt but eventually Wesker did come back for him. Lifting him up from under his arms until he got to his feet, more like dragging Leon than walking him over to the changing pad set up on the floor. 

Knowing the drill, he laid down and spread his legs. His shoes were taken off and then his wet clothes, Krauser there to help as Leon was wiped clean and powdered, the diaper wrapped around him, this one had hot air balloons on it. The new pants were put on but his shoes stayed off.

Off the changing pad, lifted in Wesker's arms, he tried again to explain. 

"I thought I was a big boy. I tried telling you I had to potty, I thought I could be that big boy! But nobody took me to the bathroom when I asked! I wanted to be a big boy!"

Wesker sighs, rubbing Leon's back. "Is that what you wanted? To be big? Because I thought I could trust you too. I thought I could take you somewhere special and let you play with new things but you're just not ready for that. Diapered little boys can't play like the big boys, it's too much for you." He sets Leon back on his feet, still holding onto him to keep him upright. He wanted Leon to be as big as he could be when he tells him this.

"There is still plenty for you to play with inside but I'm afraid you're too small to be playing outside."

It was devastating to hear this. "No..." Leon's heart breaks, his small voice pleading for another chance. "No, I'm big enough to play!" That was what he was looking forward to the most here. To play, to be outside.

Wesker shook his head no. "I'm afraid not, baby. You've proven to me that you can't."

Leon starts to cry. "No! I can prove I can! I can do it!" He sobs. "Please! PLEASE!" he cries out, Wesker letting go and Leon, not used to standing on his own collapsed in front of him, slowly dragging himself down until he was sitting in front of Wesker's shoes, gripping his pants.

"Leon." Wesker tsked. "This isn't proving anything other than I was right to deny you this. Maybe when we come back next time you'll be better behaved and you can play."

Leon was getting angry, he was just about ready to punch Wesker in the crotch but Wesker moved away, Krauser pulling him back.

"Wesker, look at him, he's desperate for what you're telling him no to. And he just got here, let's not get ahead of ourselves. Maybe he can prove it." Krauser was showing mercy. He does see Leon as just a small boy, yes, but he also remembers the past, the jungle. He's given Leon second chances before, he was a good teacher, not soft but not cruel either. 

"We'll see how he does, then. Think you're ready to take it from here?" Wesker knew when he needed to step back. Leon was upset and he's sabotaged him enough to show that it was very easy to deny Leon the things he wants if he doesn't act how Wesker wants him to act.

Wesker took the backseat to give Krauser time with Leon. Actually having to step out for a call to take.

Leon beats his fists on Krauser's chest, angry and frustrated. He hates living like this, his buried adult subconscious letting out a few air bubbles, not fully killed off but mostly. 

"I know you're upset, Leon. But we don't hit the people helping us." He takes Leon's hands in his. "I'm sure I got some mittens around here somewhere. Do I need to get them?" He spoke calmly, an even tone that made Leon more cautious than if he was shouting at him. Leon shook his head no.

Krauser smiles, his scar stretching with it. "I think you do, just temporarily." Lifting Leon up, who starts to struggle and throw himself around in his arms, taking him to where he kept supplies for times like these, putting mittens on Leon's hands who then used them to dry up the tears in his eye.

"I know you hate it, but think of it this way; you have something extra now to prove to daddy that you can have the things you want. I know you can earn your way back out of mittens. You're a smart boy."

But Leon didn't feel smart, he felt trapped and held under Wesker's thumb. With Krauser's thumb on top, and then finally another thumb from Wesker. That was how smashed he felt. 

There was opportunity here though to get far more than what he bargained for. He was in a completely different location, one Wesker wasn't familiar with he hopes. He might be able to make a run for it into the woods if he plays his cards right.

So he spends the next few hours showing how sorry he was, hugging and kissing Wesker. Apologizing with kisses to the cheek and hugs around his neck. Wesker massages Leon's palm through the mitten with his thumb. "You're trying very hard, aren't you, baby?"

He thought it was precious how Leon would cuddle with him, be doting and loving. And then when Krauser opened his hands, Leon leaned over with his arms out to jump into his arms. Gentle, slow like all things are with babies.

Krauser holds Leon in his lap, feeding him a bottle. Listening to Leon softly suck and swallow, watching his eyelashes twitch, eyes closed and relaxed in his arms.

"That's right, be easy with it." He praised, pulling the bottle away when he was finished. Lifting Leon up, a towel across his shoulder as he burps Leon. 

Krauser was like a different story book all together, easy with him and gentle like how a new person treats a newborn. Wesker is familiar with Leon, and in that familiarity and comfortable came cruelty that he simply called raising.

But Krauser was different, rubbing his back from one end to his spine to the other, patting up and down until he let out a burp. Leon could feel humiliation from such a sound but his care givers found relief in it.

The mittens were ready to come off and he was conscious about how he uses his hands, no hitting, punching or scratching. Instead Leon was a sweet boy now, ready to show he was good and big enough to get what he wanted.

With Krauser holding him still, Leon reached up with his hand to touch his face, Krauser smiling down at him. "So curious, aren't you?" Leon's fingers felt of his face, his mouth and the scar, soft and silky under his touch.

Wesker comes up behind, his mood has drastically changed seeing the amount of soft spoken cooing being done. "So precious, isn't he?" Wesker put his hand down to smooth out his eyebrows, the question reappearing in his mind. Was Leon regressed right now? Did he feel small and like a child? He was certainly acting like it.

Krauser takes Leon's hand away from his face to kiss his knuckles, the tips of his fingers. Smiling when Leon's hand twitched away from the touch. "So sensitive, too." 

"Let's take him outside, Wesker. He deserves some fun."

He was finally taken outside to play. There was a lot he could get in to here. Both Krauser and Wesker played with him, on the swings, pushing him up high and careful to watch his feet as to not get kicked. Tubes to crawl through and play games of hide and seek, the threat of the tickle monster making Leon move fast. 

Then there was the slide, he loved that. Being helped up the playset and situated on the slide before pushing off and sliding right into Krauser's arms, waiting for him at the bottom. Leon laughs and screams, wanting to go again and again. And he did, having completely forgotten about the urge growing from his second bottle. Until it hit him out of nowhere. Leon wasn't laughing anymore when he reached the bottom of the slide. "Uh oh. Uh oh." He said, rubbing his stomach.

"Uh oh? What's Uh oh, buddy?" Krauser asks. The first thing he checked was his diaper. Lifting Leon to his feet and pulling his pants and diaper away from his back, checking to see if he was wet.

"Wesker, Leon wet his diaper." Krauser calls, Wesker approaches and checks too. 

"So he has, let's go in and check that." Wesker lifted Leon into his arms, who began to fuss. "But I want to play!"

Wesker pats his bottom, "You can keep playing after we change you, it's not the end of the world." And inside they went, going to the playroom and to the table to set Leon down and change him again. Wesker had stepped back, arms folded as he watches Krauser change his boy.

He was being fun with Leon, talking to him about his accident and that he was going to get all cleaned up, a distraction while he was cleaned. Krauser wipes everything down, even between his cheeks before putting a new diaper under him and adding powder to the diaper and more around his genitals. Leon let him, thumb in his mouth as he laid there with somewhat patience that was running out. This diaper had dinosaur graphics on it as it was taped around him and his pants put back on. 

"I play again?" Leon asked around his thumb. Krauser put his hand on Leon's forearm to pull his thumb away.

"What was that, little one?" Krauser asked.

"Play outside? I play now?" He asked again. And the answer was yes, he could play again.

Leon just loved it outside, the wood chips under his shoes as Krauser holds him up by one arm and Wesker with the other. Walking him back to the slide upon request. He had fun when Krauser was at the bottom of the slide, catching him in his arms and lifting him up high. Soft hands grip on Krauser's arms as his only way to make sure he doesn't fall. He was in high spirits, laughing. He usually doesn't laugh at home and Wesker seen this interaction. The laughter. He wanted to make Leon laugh too, but he doesn't want to admit he's being much too tough on Leon because then the lack of joy in Leon would be all his fault. He should do better for Leon specifically. 

Wesker picked Leon up before he could trot back up for another go. Grunting as he lifted him up, patting his bottom. Leon whines that he wanted put back down.

"Oh, I know, baby. But don't you want to try something else? Come on, it'll be fun." Walking away from the slide with his baby in tow before setting him down on uneven ground, holding him by the pits of his arms.

"One foot in front of the other, yes, that's it." Wesker had thought maybe it would be a good way to bond as to teach Leon how to walk with his help. He likes Leon to crawl or to simply sit and wait for him to carry him around but it shows his baby that he only wants what's best for him.

This message was daddy will always be there to hold his hand, guide him through the things he was uncertain about. 

Chapter Text

"It just feels like surviving right now. And maybe I shouldn't be surprised by that, I been surviving since Raccoon. I can't stop thinking about that place. The only time I could stop was when I was someone else, somebody that never experienced anything like that. But that isn't me, just a version of me I made to endure him, of all of it."

Leon wipes his face with a tissue, sitting across from an older woman, calm and relaxed as she took notes on what he said, his behaviors during his session.

"The people around us change us for better or worse. It has less to do with the location than the environment the mind puts itself through. You are surviving now, surviving is good, it means you're still here. You have the choice now to live how you want to live. That can look like walking down a beach or a hike around a park. It can look like fresh snow in the morning to trek in. To see friends and the opportunity to make new ones."

Clutching the tissue in his hand, he nods. His back fully rounded over and sniffling in his lap, Leon understood his therapist's attempts in getting him to better himself. He didn't have to live like this, his mind was still stuck in survival mode and one day it won't be.

He doesn't have a vice to turn to anymore, which was good on his physical health. Mentally? He was still riding the fence on that one.

Leon doesn’t keep alcohol in the house anymore. Not since after Wesker. He had it around and used it solely to punish Leon with in the early days of their forced arrangement. It wasn't needed for long. And he never seen Wesker drink, rather he was against it or just didn't want to set a bad example for the baby he didn't know. Leon wasn't a baby, not anymore but he hasn't forgotten. 

Reluctantly he agreed to go out, get a few drinks like a grill and bar. It was to be dinner and a show, something adult. Something that would get Leon out of his shell and into the larger, adult shaped one he was being given.

Just looking at the drinks made his heart thump harder, watching hands going to mouths with glasses and bottles, dark liquids go in and go out fast. The smell of fresh grease and herbs from the kitchen, hot with the steam. Everything was hand made, deep fried or baked. He hasn't had anything like this in over ten years, military work didn't allow meals like these. Meals were a far, distant and third need in that time. Meals with Wesker was mild and safe, nothing his teeth had to break down. 

Yogurt, oatmeal, purees and then eventually just liquids. Now he was faced with onion rings, french fries with steaks and burgers. Jalapeño poppers, chicken strips and beer, beer, beer.

He got an appetizer and a soft drink. Claire yells in his ear that there were other places they want to check out tonight. He was here with Chris and her. But he didn't want to go to more bars, he didn't want to be at this one. He wanted to be home, in bed. They were trying so hard for him but he felt it was pointless. There wasn't much there to fix and rebuild in Leon, he knows who he used to be before Wesker and after him? He's retired is what he is.

Leon looks around the room again, feeling agitated with the burping and coughing of the patrons around. He watches a man stumble out of the establishment with another guy following after a few minutes later. His heart beats harder in his chest. This was that feeling he had trouble explaining, he felt weak inside like his organs were crying for rest. He leaves the bar, leaving Chris and Claire and they didn't even turn to look.

Pushing the doors open, it was cool outside. The nights usually were, making the sweat on his brow freeze. Watching the two guys, arm around the drunk one, whispering words of comfort. He was tall, blond and had pilot shaped glasses on, making his eyes big. The other guy was so drunk he probably couldn't tell who he was, let alone much else.

Leon followed from a distance, his fists clenched at his sides as he follows them. A yelp of pain from the drunk guy and a stumble, hopping on one foot. His shoe got loose. Too drunk, his friend bends down and ties it back for him, baby talking him. There was enough evidence here for Leon to serve the justice he should have gotten. His pace quickened from a brisk walk to running up and punching the guy in the back of the neck as he was standing. 

All Leon can see was Wesker. Throwing his fist back again and again, crying filled the background, his mind screaming from the torture he went through, still goes through even when he's dead.

"LEON! LEON, STOP!" Shouted Claire. Leon was pulled off the man by Chris, Leon still swinging, too far off in his head. Blinking. He wasn't beating up Wesker but two brothers, the younger brother taking his older brother home, too drunk to know any better and just being guys. He busted his lip and bruised his face but Leon should be lucky that was all he got around to doing. 

"You said he could handle it." Chris tells Claire, his grip loosening around Leon when the guys got in their car and left. Maybe he should have kept holding onto Leon as he starts headed to where the car was. Claire caught him.

"Leon? Leon... what's wrong? What are you thinking?" She asked.

He had so many words and they were all trapped in his head. "I... That was how he..." Claire nods, trying to put it together. 

"He? Wesker? He followed you out of a bar? Was that how you—?" Leon collapsed on her and wept. He wasn't over it, wasn't ready for something big like this. Chris put his hand on Leon's shoulder, it felt heavy like all his shame and pity had been moved to the palm of his hand.

"Let's just get him home and do something inside. I don’t want to... just leave him like this." He mouths the end to his sister, hoping Leon wouldn't hear the whispered clicks. She nods, pulling Leon off her to instead start walking with him.

"Hey, I know. It's okay, we'll take you back to your place and order something, okay? Just the three of us, those bars are dirty and overpriced anyways."

Leon nods, following Claire with Chris behind him back to the jeep to get home.

Chapter Text

Pushing past the debris that barricaded the door, flashlight shining into the room. It was dark and dirty with every movement kicking up old dust. The walls had black sores on them, the ceiling was peeling and holes were in the corners of the floor. In every aspect of the word, this house was sick. Leon is reminded of something he read in the early morning one time, having took a nose dive in articles and pages to end up in how homes were treated before the modern stuff came out. People treated houses as if they were living, called the mold that grew leprosy and what to do about it.

"The biggest danger in this room is a bad sneeze, it's fine." He calls behind him. His partner in all of this, Sherry. She was a good and competent agent even if he thought she should have been anything else. It's been years since the C-virus outbreak. Times are evolving, diseases fester and they grow white fuzz now. Like a bad house cook that didn't clean up after himself. 

The loud stuff was predictable as actions just as loud solved them. A screaming zombie can be put down with a gun but this was all quiet. Making sounds you weren't suppose to wasn't new, that's how Lickers work but those were run of the mill these days. What was going on here is eerie and gotten worse before they showed up. He hates the things Sherry had witnessed that she never should have seen. She lost everything she knew all that time ago. She shouldn't be seeing people sitting up with their head hung, glued to the walls with veins and roots, some had flakes and others were wet with slick jelly. She shouldn't have to see any of that.

Pulling out his phone, hesitant to call Hunnigan with the information he has gathered. He had been retired, this was the second time he's been caught off guard and thrusted back into duty. There were things he could refuse and others he couldn't. He presses the number and holds it to his ear.

The clicks between the rings felt like mini heart attacks to Leon. If she was going to pick up. If something has been done to his phone again.

"You got tetanus shots waiting when we get out of this mess? Yes, yes we been running into the signs but nothing has gotten up and chased us, yet."

Sherry watches Leon talk, his hesitation with it, how he shakes but keeps pushing. He was scared too but maybe for more reasons than she was.

"Does it still bother you?" She asked when he hung up. Looking at him now, how aged he was from when she first met him. He was a kid like she had been, Claire too. Nineteen and twenty-one they were at the time. She can see it on him, like it was the clothes he wore that some things he will never get over.

Leon shook his head like he was accepting the similarities. "Some things stick out like the state of disarray and whatever is sticking to the floors like they did in Raccoon City. You don't need to worry about that, that's my burden." He says.

She steps closer, swallowing the scratchy feeling in her throat. "That's not what I'm asking. I heard about what happened. With Wesker." The way she said it, like she was trying to be gentle. They were surrounded by terrorism cancer and the words felt like a personal diagnosis.

"Oh," his eyes widen, "that." He nods once. "Same principle. That's my burden to bear, not yours. Now come on, we have more scouting to do."

Sherry follows behind Leon, watching him dip his head to dodge things that have fallen. Thinking back to her own history with Wesker, pictures that are now destroyed of her sitting on his knee as a baby, smiling at her father taking the photograph. Her parents loved taking pictures of her both planned and by surprise. Her asleep on her father's chest, Wesker turning to look last second. 

They come into an expanse after having to shimmy one at a time through the narrowed hall. Things moved on the wall in a hive, like specs of black that writhed and one touch could kill one or both of them.

"Don't touch it. We don't know what kind of damage that can do." Leon warns her. Not like she was going to go up to it anyways. 

"Looks like moss, all fuzzy and spread out like that." She describes. 

Leon had something to say to that. "Well it's not. Moss is a part of nature. Whatever this is? Somebody used all the toxins of nature and made a freak show with it for an unwilling audience. That being us for the time being."

Leon was going to take a picture when he was stopped again.

"Why didn't you trick him?" Sherry asked. "Play along or appeal to him?"

She wasn't going to drop it. So Leon turned around to face her. It wasn't her concern and it was a long time ago. He sees it in her big eyes that she thought if she was in that situation she wouldn't break like he did.

"Out-trick the ultimate trickster? Sherry, he fooled everybody he ever knew." Including her, spoken in silence. "I tried but it seemed I was only dragged down deeper with each attempt. Maybe I'm just not cunning enough. Are you?" That was how she was framing it. 

"You think you could hold out long enough to break free of having your very personhood taken from you?" He was circling her much like a hungry but old lion would to a gazelle.

"I was held captive in China for six months, they experimented on me, on Jake too." She had a big bed, entertainment, even her own bathroom.

"I read your report, Sherry. You really played them while enduring what you did. Maybe you are stronger because of what you had to survive at a young age. Or maybe you're just like your daddy. You might be your father's daughter after all. You going to betray me next?"

Sherry's jaw flew open. "What? No! No, I'm nothing like my parents! Don't say things you don't mean to teach me to stop asking. Just tell me to stop if you didn’t want me asking!" 

"I did. I told you it wasn't your burden but you aimed to make it your business. Don't like getting stung back?" 

"You think I'm stinging you?" She asked. "I just see how you act, it's clear that you're struggling but you don't have to struggle alone!"

But it wasn't all that simple. To ask for help from the person he seen as his charge? As the kid he was so fond of, that he did everything he ever did to protect her?

"I protect you. Not the other way around. While I am still conscious and sane it will stay that way." Sherry didn't say another word, a scorn seedling planted in her soil, waterline going pink. He upset her and the only reason she was this way was because it was Leon, if it was anyone else she would have tore them down. 

"Yes, sir." She did get out, clear she wanted to change the situation with a lot more than compliance. She can promise herself that if or when Leon's head goes under she won't stop to gloat. She'll save them both because she wasn't William's daughter anymore. She wanted to be Leon's. The scars he is left with goes deeper than she can ever imagine.

Chapter Text

It was cold inside the small grocery store, the air vents wet and dripping from the air they were blowing out. Leon was pushing around an off white shopping cart, proud to exclaim it was made from recycled plastic. Yeah, he could tell it was. 

In his cart he had some food, canned things and bread, a new cup to drink coffee out of. Coffee grounds was next on his list, followed by a frozen dinner he'll get for a hard day. It was just a few steps over until he was reaching the wall of freezers. He got a pepperoni pizza for a later night. Faintly listening to the country music played on a radio near the front. 

He's passing the milks and decided to get a cold protein milk, it would be good for his recovery. Almost making it to the last aisle where dry food and dips were, in the last few freezers was alcohol. Nothing too special. Just coolers and beer. Leon had been a whiskey man, it was far stronger than any lite beer. But... maybe this was a good start to get back into it again.

Opening the freezer, his hand wraps around the handle of the heavy pack and he stops. The sudden rush of pain strikes his hand but nothing had touched him! A memory appears, something he's blacked out for a while. Wesker offering him a drink, only when he went for it his hand was swat real hard. It hurt. Hell, it still hurt.

He pulls his hand away and closes the door again. Skipping out on it this time. Leon hadn't thought of Wesker for a long time, living his life as any single man — as just a man, not forced to be a baby. But during the time Wesker was raising him, some traditions still stuck, this being one of them. He promised to never let Leon get into things he shouldn't be getting into, and it looks like he was keeping his promise after death. Leon doesn’t know if he can ever touch a hard drink and not feel the phantom sting of his hands when he did.

Checking over his list, he had skipped over briefs for himself. He had a few left and as much as he would like to say that he didn't need them anymore, that wasn't completely true. He'll need to at least look.

Traveling back around, he finds the aisle and looks at what was offered. Getting a small pack of them to add to his shopping haul. He should tell himself he was getting better, going down in quantity of these diapers was a win for him! Let's face it. They are diapers. He can call them briefs or their brand name as much as he would like but that doesn't stop at what they are made for. Leon was ready to check out now.

He passed by the baby products, then stopped and reversed. Taking a moment to just look at the selection. He has never truly forgotten his past, he doesn't think about it but that doesn't mean it still wasn't with him. Packages of pacifiers, bottles and quality of life things. Like that sucker that gets snot out of a baby's nose. There was food, spoons to go with it. Baby wash and teething gel, teething toys. Leon wondered if Wesker ever stopped to look at these things, just look at them.

For how many years did he just look? When did he start buying? Did he try them too and seen he didn't like it but not letting that stop him? When did he decide he wanted somebody to care for? Leon can guess and imagine and in those guesses he probably wasn’t too far from the truth.

At home he puts what belongs in the fridge in it, same with the freezer and pantry. Smashing the bags up to lay on the counter as he marches to his bedroom, pulling out the old shoebox he had saved. A thick layer of dust covered the lid. Ignoring it, he opens it to find what remains. A couple of pictures, some notes and a small notepad that Wesker wrote his thoughts in. Wesker wrote in anything that had paper, no matter the size or what it looked like. He read through it.

There was something here that he had no memory of. Soap. His mouth was washed out with soap and here Wesker wrote what kind he used and the reason for it. What he wrote on the pages following was... regret, blaming himself, humility. That was when Leon remembered what happened. 

It was when Leon was regressed more often than not, while they were in Africa. Wesker was working hard on his doomsday virus while also taking care of him. He would write down how much Jill fed him as well as how much he fed Leon himself. So many went without yet he made sure Leon always had water.

Leon had been cranky, years of running on so little sleep made him too tired to fight but it also made him harder to handle. 

It wasn't even all that bad, what he said, but it was the fact he had broken out of his chains and said it when Wesker was stuck between having a little success rate and keeping Leon healthy. 

"So you're opening a can of worms to kill everyone, are you? Even a worm will turn." Leon had threatened? Was it really a threat? That even a worm will turn, something so docile will bite when pushed. Wesker might have thought Leon meant both his virus and himself, that he would turn on Wesker. To teach him a lesson, he got a new bar of soap and shoved it into Leon's mouth, his saliva acting as the water to make it sudsy. 

For the first second it tasted sweet, wasn't bad at all. But it quickly burned his throat and tongue, the strong antibacterial felt like it was a harsh material that corroded metal.

Leon was dragged into the corner, kicking and crying. He spat out the soap and Wesker just shoved it back in.

Wesker told him then, "You are to stay put in this corner, little boy! If you spit it out again or speak out against me, I'll make you eat it!" He turned away to cool off.

Leon, trembling on the tightrope between lucid and dreaming, slipped. He held it in his mouth for as long as he could handle it before he pulled it out, looking at the teeth marks he left behind. His eyes were red like the bar had been used on them too, but it hasn't. The strength having gone up to his nose and watered his eyes.

And, well, by the time Wesker came back, he was a lot calmer. "Hey, baby." He soothed, rubbing Leon's back to tell him timeout was over. "You been such a good boy, you can spit out the soap now." He held out his hand.

When Leon spit it out, it was half eaten. Wesker froze in place, looking at the grooves through the bar, chunks taken out like a block of cheese. No... he didn't... he didn't chew and swallow soap did he?

This was far beyond what Wesker would push. He had only said he'll make Leon eat it as a threat, it wasn't a challenge. "Leon, baby? You... where's the other half?" But he didn't get an answer, only his gaze shifting to the floor.

This shook Wesker. Eating this much soap was going to ruin his colon, make him so sick. What was going to happen now would be mercy compared to letting it pass through him.

He dropped the half eaten bar down, urging Leon up. "Come on, you’re not in trouble, baby. You’re not. I gotta fix this." Carrying Leon to the bathroom, he placed him down on his feet in front of him, in front of the toilet. 

One hand held Leon's stomach, leaning over him to make Leon roll forward. With his free hand, he slides too fingers into Leon's mouth.

"I know, I know it's unpleasant but just let it go. I have to get the soap out! You're not in trouble, baby! Just throw up!" Panic set it. Wesker beating his fingers in the back of Leon's throat when he was gagging. He didn't stop when clots of soap came up. He kept his fingers back there until he seen the last thing he fed Leon for lunch. Carrots. The dark orange hitting the bowl meant there was no more soap. That was when he stopped.

"Daddy!" Leon burped, crying and shaking and pissed off. His throat hurt worse. His face was splotchy and swollen, pink around the eyes and wet. But Wesker just hugged him.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Leon. I never meant for you to eat it. I would have never done that to you. I'm sorry I said it. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." He said in Leon's hair, rocking him side to side.

Those following days the blood vessels around Leon's eyes were busted, looked like dark red freckles under his eyebrows, on his eyelids and the outer corners. Wesker was sorry for it and did things to try to make up for it. He made sure to let Leon know he made a mistake. Though he only remembers it now, in hindsight when that life was behind him.

Leon was driving now with the shoebox in the passenger seat, the sun was setting on his side of the car. Having drove to the beach to toss the box into the ocean.

Getting out with it in his hands, walking down the pier, to his right he heard screaming. He looks. A group of young people laughing and yelling, drinking around a firepit. He takes the stairs down off the pier. This was better.

"Hey! HEY! Get! Get now before I call the cops!" Leon yells at them like the ghost of spring break's past. They run away from the fire and Leon throws the box in it. Watching it burn, everything burning to ash. What was left he didn't shred before he read through and was ready to burn. He wouldn’t have unanswered questions in the future, he got everything he will ever get out of them now. No reason to keep trauma in a box in the back of his closet.

Chapter Text

Leon's eyes follow Wesker, pacing and on the phone with somebody. What was he talking about? Sometimes it sounded like he was talking about Leon, other times it sounded like he was talking about himself. Sitting on a stitched blanket on the floor, some toys laid around him. He had tried playing with them and earlier he was really into the ball he had. Leon had gotten too excited and the ball rolled away, going to crawl towards it... Well, it still laid against the leg of the dining table and Leon's hand was still stinging. 

He can't stay like this, to live like this. Off of mashed foods and crinkly diapers, his body washed and nails cut for him, teeth brushed for him. He missed the life he had even if it was hard on him he still could do whatever he wanted. Here? He was bound to be Wesker’s baby doll. He can play his own games though he wasn't the best. He knew how to stir an interrogation but this was on another level. He'll try at least.

Leon starts with yawning, rubbing his eyes and fighting off how tired he appears. Eyes slowly blinking and jolting when his head hangs. Wesker was watching, he knows it, unable to help himself. 

Pushing his toys out of the way, he gets fussy with crocodile tears beading in the corner of his eyes. Laying down right on his blanket for a nap.

"Shit — No, no. Nothing is wrong. I just... I'll call you back." Wesker hangs up. He won't allow his baby to nap during his playtime, it was one or the other. He approached, rubbing Leon's back to get him awake again. "You can't sleep here, baby. Get up." Sighing when Leon whines and pushes out his bottom lip in a sucking motion. 

A sucking motion. 

Wesker stops and watches, his touch getting lighter. Has Leon found his baby space? Some soft cloud to lay on, coddled in the womb of his mind. He didn't want to break Leon out of it if he has found what he has been guiding Leon towards, especially if he stumbled upon it independently.

"Oh, come here, sweet boy. Come to daddy." He lifts Leon off the blanket and into his arms, holding him up by his bottom, giving small taps with the tips of his fingers. "Tired, sweet child?"

Leon wasn't a child but he would act like one, telling himself he'll only do it once. He'll do anything once if it meant he'll get out of this nightmare play of house. 

He remembered being young, actually young and running around his block where all the other kids were. Girls often played house together, one would play the daddy when there was no boys. Leon got roped into those games a few times, children acting out what their parents did to them or each other. But Leon didn't look into continuing that into his adulthood. He had to wonder if Wesker played those games, if he was allowed to. Maybe he was grown in a lab and never seen another child. Leon didn't know.

"It's still an hour before dinner." Wesker mused. Dinner meant a bath and bed soon after. He played being cranky, dropping his head on Wesker’s shoulder to signal he was tired now.

"Oh, my poor baby..." Wesker takes him to the playpen and lays him down on the soft blankets, taking the pacifier laid amongst the stuffed toys and clips it to his collar, sticking it in his mouth. Leon accepts it and starts sucking, eyes closed. Wesker thought he looked so sweet like that, laid out on his back with his pacifier in, his arms and legs bent comfortably. Smoothing his hand over Leon's chest to lull him deeper before pulling away.

Leon had only been faking being tired, he didn't actually mean to fall asleep. Didn't mean to dream.

He's coming in and out, dreams mixing with reality and both fading to black as he tried to fall back asleep. No such luck. He sucks in a sharp breath and his eyes widen when something wet and cold touches his stomach. He looks down to see Wesker there, rubbing a baby wipe across his skin.

He was about to spit out his pacifier and tell him no, not that he'll listen, but he stops himself before he could. He was playing a game here, he had to remember. 

His crotch tightens up, Wesker firmly pushing down where he was wiping. The cold sensation and pushing made Leon's bladder break, soiling his diaper from that cruel little trick.

"There we go, baby boy is awake now." But Wesker didn't change him. All he did was put the wipe back in the bag and lift Leon up in his arms and over to the highchair. Never did Leon think he would be wanting his diaper changed and not get it. His wrists were kept free only because Wesker thinks Leon is in too deep to be doing anything strategically. Leon should keep it that way. Banging his hands on his tray, whines muffled by the pacifier. 

"I know, I know. You're hungry, I'm working on it!" Wesker calls, trying to hurry to give his little one his dinner and his bottle. Leon kept it up until Wesker came back.

"Have mercy! Please!" Wesker mocks, coming over to yank his pacifier out and replace it with a spoon. He immediately didn't like it and spat it back out on his chin to get the taste out.

Wesker scraps what was on his chin to feed back to Leon who turned his head away and made a big fuss. "You know, Leon. For somebody who was just screaming to be fed you sure are being a little brat about it." And he tried again, this time stuffing the spoon in his mouth. Sighing when Leon spits it out and cries. Was it not good?

Looking into the jar, he had made this himself, homemade was best for his little baby boy. Getting some on the spoon, Wesker took a taste and immediately spit it back out in the jar. "Okay. So peas and bananas don't go together. I'm sorry, baby. Daddy's sorry." And Leon's made a mess of his shirt. There goes him having a polite baby too.

Getting up he dumps the whole jar in the trash and the spoon in the sink. Getting a different one and a bib for him. Wiping his face with it before putting it around his neck. Leon didn't like it, it was tight and made his face tingle from the rough material. Earning more fussing. 

Wesker pacified it this time with mixed berries. Leon liked this one way more than the other and he eat it all up. Helping Leon hold his bottle up to feed himself while Wesker did a few dishes.

Finishing his water, he'll refill it with milk after Leon's bath. "Look at you! Such a messy baby." Wesker croons, lifting Leon up from his seat and taking him towards the bathroom where he strips Leon of his clothes and fills the tub to wash him in.

Leon played with his toys, holding them under the water and then watching them float back to the surface again. Wesker scrubbing his skin pink with a baby wash cloth, putting it over his chest to keep him from shaking when he drains the tub.

Getting him dried off, teeth brushed and diapered have all become routine by now. Leon lifting his legs all on his own so Wesker can powder his bottom yet Wesker insist he holds Leon's legs up by the back of his knees. Tonight's pajamas were soft felt, blue with sea creatures and bubbles all over them. Rubbing Leon's back as he carried him over to his crib for holding until he comes back with Leon's milk.

This routine Leon also knows well, stay away from the bars and drink his milk, sometimes Wesker would even read to him. Today was not that day. Today he takes Leon to the chair, easing the nipple into his mouth and rocking him. "Shhh, shh. That's it. Relax now, baby. Daddy's got you. Yes, so good for me." Watching Leon's lashes flutter, sucking down his milk until he was sucking air. Grabbing the tea towel he had also grabbed from the kitchen off the end table to put across his shoulder, he lifts Leon and beats his back, getting a humiliating burp out of him.

"Good boy." Wesker praised, standing and taking Leon to his crib where he lays him down, putting the blanket over him. 

"Sweet dreams, little one." He said as he brings the bars up with a deep click. Clicking the baby monitor on, he leaves the nursery to allow Leon to rest.

Nightfall has come, it was late when he woke up from his short nap. Sleeping too early got him awake in the middle of the night. As long as he was quiet, he could get out of his crib without Wesker knowing. 

He sits up in his bed, pulling himself to his knees and then his feet by the bars. Swinging one leg up, hooking his foot on the top of the bars, he carefully slides himself over. Getting leverage on the other side, it was easy to swing his other foot over and step down. Leon unplugged the monitor by the wall, he was off Wesker’s radar now. 

Going to the window, he pushes away the curtains and smiles the biggest he had in weeks. The lock was a simple pull and push, pulling it towards himself and lifting it from the bottom. Next was the screen. This will be tricky, if he busts it Wesker is sure to hear. So, he gently pushes one corner of the screen loose, doing the same to the other side. Wiggling it loose until it came off. His hands were trembling as he sets it down flat on the floor. Better to lay it down than to have it fall down. Looking out the window, feeling the cool wind hit his face he sees the air unit was right under his window. If he drops down on it he'll bust it and more importantly he'll wake Wesker up. Leon only had so much time to make his escape. 

He was throwing all his clothes out the window, landing on the unit with soft thuds, making a soft pile for him to jump out on to. When he had nothing left to throw, he crawled out the window and sat on the sill, legs dangling off. He turns to look back one last time before he pushes himself off.

The landing was soft, way softer than if he just jumped down on it. Maybe it sounded like it was kicking off if Wesker heard it at all. Shoving himself off it and feet touching grass he makes the choice of how he should run away.

If he was nude he didn't need to explain himself. He ran away from a kidnapping. That was easy to explain. In these pajamas and a diaper? He couldn’t explain that. So Leon sheds everything right there and makes a run for it to the fence.

Hissing when he runs into the bushes. Ow! They have thorns on them! Though it stings, Leon keeps pushing and grabbed the top of the fence with one jump. His muscles are weakened but the adrenaline to escape makes up for it. Getting his chin up over the top and a foot, pulling himself up and over. Dropping on the other side. Asphalt. He was on the road. Looking around, streetlights every few feet and quiet, sleepy houses surrounding the one he just escapes from. Leon runs straight, his heart pounding on the base of his tongue, cutting between houses until he was on the highway. Jumping out when headlights got close. It was his lucky break! Leon just ran out in front of a cop car, naked and covered in cuts. He looks like an escaped sex crime victim. That would be half right. His face stained with tears as he was escorted into the back to be taken to the station and getting his captor arrested most likely tonight. 

Leon was a man again. A free but heavily damaged man.

Chapter Text

Things were never the same after Wesker and the treatment Leon endured. He kept Wesker busy, too busy to be destroying the world. Bio terrorism and bio weapons fell to the wayside. Wesker never flooded the black markets. There was still blips but they were so rare and poorly developed that a few RPGs took it all out. At least there was that. But Leon had changed, he was able to function afterwards yet he still liked a security blanket in his arms.

Krauser had been an occasional visitor during that time. Wesker kept him like he kept Leon, hostage and dependent on him but Leon got all the attention. Krauser had been eaten up bad and Wesker had did what he can to dig it out. He kept the bug but without a host it dried up and died, turned into shards of amber.

When Wesker died they had grafted into each other. Leon needed somebody to care for him and Krauser didn't need anything, but he wanted to do this.

Leon always had something about him, buried away deeply. Krauser had seen it when they were alone, before Wesker. The older Leon got the smaller it got but somehow Wesker managed to drag it back to the surface and make it his, as much as he could make it.

He works hard still. Bio terrorism and bioweapons didn't fully die out they just changed back to drugs and chemicals, and he was still the president's daughter's bodyguard. Living two lives for this long and Krauser helps him keep them apart. Here Leon could drop everything and be who he wanted to be. He wanted to be small despite Wesker's damage. Unable to snuff it out now he has to work with it, keep it contained.

Their relationship was far different than what he had with Wesker. He held all the cards and dolled Leon up. The relationship with Krauser was that Leon held the cards, he decides how far it goes.

He comes home, the hard edges of his mind melted with the door clicking closed behind him. "Daddy!" He called out. It was one of those days. Their word that shifts the paces, a very easy and to the point word. Krauser in the bedroom, lifting weights hears the call and stops what he’s doing. Putting them away and wiping the sweat off his face, comes to the front room to see Leon still standing by the door, rubbing his eyes and pouting.

"Leon. You're a big boy now, big boys don't pout like that." Watching Leon shake his head no and waddled up to Krauser.

"But I'm tired and had a long day!" He stomps his feet, fussy with his tone. It was clear to see he was shifting into the head space Wesker had cracked open and got Leon to jump inside of. It was a soft place, warm and much larger than him — it felt that way to Leon anyways.

"That doesn't excuse this behavior and tone. What do you say?" It was a game they play together. Nothing like what used to be done to him. Krauser was completely in on it now, watching Leon whine and bounce his knees.

"I'm sorry, daddy." Leon held out his arms and took those last few steps. Krauser hugs him back, hand stroking his back.

"There we go. There's my good boy. But your attitude needs a little adjustment, don't you think?" Leon nodded into his chest, his hand traveling lower to firmly pat Leon's bottom.

"Good. Come, come with daddy and we'll fix you right up."

Over on the couch Krauser sat and pulled Leon in between his knees, looking up at him while stroking his sides. "You're frustrated today, baby boy? Got a lot of hot air in your head and can't decompress?" Watching Leon nod at that. "Yes... yes, I can see that."

Hands spreading to the front of Leon's jeans, unbuckling his belt while speaking to him. "That doesn't mean you take it out on daddy, does it? No. It certainly doesn't." Popping the button and pulling the zipper down, Krauser slides his pants down with his briefs going down with them.

"Daddy needs to spank you, bubby."

Leon nodded, hands on his hips turning him to the side and pulling him down over one of Krauser's knees. His upper body laid over the couch cushions, Krauser pinning Leon's legs down with his other thigh. His knuckle between his lips as he waits for Krauser to start. Warming the skin up with rubs and firm pats.

Reeling his hand back, Krauser's hand claps in the middle of Leon's rear near the bottom where he still had a little fat. Leon grunts from the impact, another one lands in the same place.

"You're going to speak to me with respect now, aren't you?" Krauser asked, guiding his hand down to spank the agent's ass over and over, the skin blooming pink and getting some heat in it.

Leon looked like he was enjoying this. He didn't have to think anymore, just lay over his daddy's knee and let him take it from here. Resting his head on his free arm and his eyes closed, jolting and fake weeping with each strike. "Yes, daddy." He mumbles.

Krauser reaches up with his free hand to tangle his fingers in his hair. "What was that? I didn't hear you with your thumb in your mouth. Babies suck their thumbs, are you a baby?" Krauser asks, slapping his ass rapidly for a short burst.

"No! No, I'm not a baby!" Leon argues, pulling his knuckle away and squinting his eyes closed tightly to endure his punishment. Those cheeks turning red.

"Oh, but I think you are just a little baby. You need daddy to get you a pacifier and rattle?" His hand rubbing over the warm patch of Leon's blistered ass.

"No!" Leon yells, and that earns him a few quick taps.

"That's not how you address me and you know it, try again." His spanks gotten softer as well as his tone, crooning to Leon who was eating it up.

"No, daddy. Please don't treat me like a little baby. I can do better." He finally works out to say.

Krauser stops his punishment, rubbing his lower back for comfort. "I suppose that's good enough. You learned your lesson, then?" Leon nodded, shifting his legs and his head to further relax in the position, having slipped more.

"Good boy. Now up. Up, up, up." Helping Leon stand back up and stepping out of his clothes, Krauser stands and pulls Leon's germy work shirt off to join the pile in the floor.

"Pick your mess up and hand it to daddy to take care of it for you." Krauser commands like a patient father. Hands open to hold the laundry Leon hands to him. "Good boy. Sit on the couch and wait for me." Krauser leaves to toss the clothes in the laundry room and to get Leon what he will be needing tonight.

Getting Leon a pull-up was the first thing he did. From what Leon had told him, Wesker solely used diapers and Leon hated it but slowly got used to it. Krauser felt like pull-ups was a step above that. They were plain grey, graphics weren't really sold in stores. But he was able to make up for it with a graphic shirt, deeply soft and dark blue with some cartoon dog on the front. Krauser didn't know the name. Leon watched so many shows with talking animals.

When he came back, Leon was on the couch, his heels on the edge to keep his sore bottom up, rubbing his hands over the warm spots.

"Legs up, baby." Krauser approach, pulling the pull-up apart and sliding it over Leon's legs and shoving it up around his waist. Then putting the shirt over his head. "There we are, all ready for a night in. Pick something to watch while I heat up dinner."

Krauser heated up some dinosaur chicken nuggets, the brussel sprouts from yesterday and a protein cookie for dessert. Calling Leon over, they eat at the table. Leon loves everything Krauser feeds him, even the sprouts. Boiled and lightly dipped in butter, little where they are still sweet, what isn't there to like.

After dinner Krauser held Leon in his arms, giving his bottom light pats while rocking him, Leon drinks from the bottle Krauser was holding for him. Some things carried over from Wesker to Krauser. Bottle feeding being one of them.

As it was getting later and Leon tucking his head into Krauser's neck, knowing his baby was getting tired.

"Sleepy, little one? Do you need to be put to bed?" Watching Leon think, shifting his chin down and peeling his eyes open, glancing at the cartoon on TV. A few more minutes and the adult cartoons will start playing.

"Go potty and then go to bed. —But a story first!" Krauser smiles, huffing from air from his nose. "Okay, I can manage that. Let's go take you to the potty and then bed time."

Leon takes Krauser's hand to the bathroom, guiding into the room. Krauser stands by and watches Leon go. Putting the toilet seat up and pushing his pull-up down, taking out his penis to hold and relieve himself. It was good to see Leon potty trained again. For a while there Krauser thought he'll never get it back. He thought that about most of the things Leon does now. His baby is able to kill again for work yet still come home and give himself up. He needed to in order to keep surviving. Without this... he doesn't know where Leon would be.

"Good job. Flush and wash your hands."

Leon follows Krauser's orders. Putting his pull-up back on and flushing, washing his hands with the foamy soap and cool water. He was ready for bed.

Krauser didn't move from the door. "You're forgetting something." Leon looks around the bathroom, wondering what he forgot.

"Oh!" He said under his breath. He needed to brush his teeth. Back to the sink, Leon wets the brush and squeezes some of the blue paste on the brush before shoving it in his mouth. Leon really got in there, pressing the bristles hard to his teeth and gums. Brushing his tongue for much longer than two minutes. But when it was done could he be officially ready for bed.

In the bedroom Krauser pulls back the sheets for Leon to climb in. Putting them around his chest as he gets comfortable, eager for his story. Krauser smiling down at him, brushed the hair away from his eyes. "Such a good boy for daddy." Leaning over to the bedside table, he gets the story he was reading to Leon a few nights ago and starts where they last left off. Leon relaxing, easing into the pillows and his eyes close. Listening to Krauser read to him as he slips out of consciousness and into his dreams.

Chapter Text

Wesker was able to put up with a lot from Leon. From his crying to his fighting, a foot in his face or that smart mouth of his. What he couldn't stand was Leon weaponizing his bladder against him. That was one of the reasons he kept Leon in diapers. For him to go whenever he needed to, to wear cute prints that he had been betting would get Leon to slip in the head space he was cultivating. What he didn't want was for Leon to pull it open to one side and piss on Wesker, soiling his pants and his shoe. Having left Leon in his crib to go change, Wesker was fuming.

The shoes were ruined and he'll have to throw them away. They were just shoes. His pants could be washed but he wasn't mad that Leon did it. Telling himself that babies make messes a lot, a lot of laundry needs to be done around this time. He wasn't upset over it. He was upset that Leon waited after he had checked to see he was dry and doing it afterwards. It was rebellion. It was on purpose.

The house was small, he knew that, that was the point. Such a small and quaint house will get the attention of nobody. Because nobody will be looking for Wesker in a house with pink shutters and an antique blue door. There was no basement — or well, a usable one. And the attic was small and hot. He didn't expect he'll need to get up to anything here. Here was suppose to be safe for Leon to slip away and be happy, and he couldn't be happy if Wesker attaches bad memories to the rooms. No. He'll have to take him somewhere else.

"I'll show him..." Wesker mutters to himself as he wipes his leg of any residue of urine. "He'll regret this, I'll make sure of it." He already had an idea of what he was going to do.

There was this lab of his a bit ways out from where he was now. It was older and was pretty sure he locked up every door before he left. Though it wouldn't surprise him if a window got cracked or the ceiling was caving in. It's been years... but it would work. He'll need to go down there and check on it if what he was thinking would work there.

In new pants and shoes, he comes back to Leon who was quiet but his mind was loud and pissed off. Wesker should be the upset one, he was the one pissed on. "Hello, Leon. Would you like to tell daddy you're sorry? I know you did that on purpose."

Leon turned his head away. He wasn't going to be playing this game with Wesker. He can't be getting in any more trouble with what he wants to say. He had an escape plan building, not wanting to ruin it.

"No? Nothing to say for yourself? You can come out of your crib when you apologize."

Leon had an idea on what that meant. No food, no story, no humiliation. He could deal with a rumbling stomach for one night. By the time tomorrow comes he'll be forgiven and one day closer to this plan aligning right.

Being that Leon wasn't ready to talk, Wesker left him to his brooding. Wondering if it was alright to leave him here. He wouldn’t be gone too terribly long. Just to see if what he was thinking of doing was going to work. Deciding he did have the time for it.

Leon was restless in his bed. Sharing the space with stuffed animals, the monitor was on. Wesker was watching him, he was sure of it. Waiting for him to crack under the pressure and beg. But that wasn't happening, at least not yet. If Wesker draws this out to tomorrow he may have to fake it until he makes it. For now he wanted to play the part of the unwilling one. He lays down and pulls one of the toys over to rest on his chest. The house was so still when Wesker wasn't here to embarrass him. The man had seen it all from Leon — doesn't mean he's comfortable living like this.

The hours pass, Leon was getting hungry. "Just one day. It's fine, Leon. Square up." He tells himself and the duck toy he's messing with. He's been in worse situations. A little hunger was nothing.

The door creaked open, turning to look. It was Wesker with a bottle of milk. Guess he couldn't help but to break his own rules. "Is that for me? I thought I been too bad to eat at all." He sits up. Being fed a bottle for dinner was still a statement, he was still in trouble but Leon can see it was starting to fizzle out.

"No, Leon. You can never be too bad. I know babies can't control their little peepees. I just would like you to say you're sorry for it is all." Wesker knows Leon wasn't going to do that. He thinks he has the upper hand despite the cringe he pulled.

"What? Don't like hearing the truth, little boy? Don't like me calling it your peepee?" Wesker brings the bars down and lifts Leon out, squirming in his arms as he takes him to the nursery chair.

"It's not my peepee, it's my damn penis. I'm not a baby, Wesker. I'm not—" the bottle is stuffed in his mouth.

"Shh, hush now, baby. Drink your bottle and relax. Just relax."

It was more protein milk. One thing he was thankful for is that Wesker didn’t feed him formula or even hot formula for that matter. These were always cold and tasted great.

Leon sucked every drop down and was set up to be burped. He couldn't avoid the humiliation forever.

To the bathroom to stand in front of the mirror to let Wesker floss and brush his teeth. Sawing the floss between each tooth though nothing was ever there. All Leon eats is mush. Nothing to get stuck.

With the brushing started, Leon was feeling sick. A buzzing filling his head and his limbs feeling like they were being stuffed with cotton. Was this how the stuffies in his bed feel?

"Wesker..." Leon mumbles around the brush, Wesker’s arm wrapping around Leon's chest.

"Almost done. I know, such a sleepy baby."

Leon spits and mouths at the water cupped in Wesker's hand. Having to just get a cloth to wipe around his mouth to get them rinsed.

Leon can't talk by the time he’s taken to bed. Laid down in his bed, hair smoothed out of his face. "Tomorrow is a new day." Wesker spoke. Leon can see his mouth move but the words were too close, confusing him. He's never felt like this before. He passes out.

Wesker stands straight, pulling the bars up and shutting off the lights as he left the nursery. Turning everything off as he goes to his own room, at his desk he wrote the date and time on a notepad.

"At 19:33 I gave Leon 16 ounces of milk and one Rohypnol." Flexeril was too mild for what Wesker needed him unconscious for.

That was the last thing Wesker fed him, well before midnight. No more food or water after that.

There was just a big, fat cut to black for Leon. The night passes and he didn't move an inch. No dreams and no feelings. He only felt things for what seemed like hours after it happens. He was woken up and lifted from bed. Closing his eyes. When he opened them again he didn't know how he got to be sitting up and dressed.

Wesker dressed Leon in a white collared shirt and a brown cardigan, green corduroy pants to match with it.

Carried out of the nursery and straight for the door, the sun hasn't fully risen yet when he was buckled in the car seat in the back. The whole morning forgotten when his eyelids fell heavy again.

Head hung to the side as he slept, the harness across his chest kept him from being jostled too much. Wesker was great at driving when he was the only one on the road. Hitting the breaks hard, he turns back to look at Leon still out cold. That was good. Very good.

Every breath was deep and even, the soft beeping of a monitor near his head. It stirs him awake. There was a cold sting of a needle in his arm. Tensing at the feeling only for fingers to press into his wrist hard enough for his hand to open, a hand sliding into his own.

He opens his eyes and majority of his vision was black. The florescent light was off-center over his head, more towards the left side and just the corner of it. Unable to move though he tried. His legs, arms and chest were strapped down. Getting awake and turning his head to look at Wesker. Who else would it be?

Dressed in scrubs, he pulls his face mask down. The shades still there. "Good morning, baby." He croons. "You have a big surgery scheduled for today."

Leon tried to squirm. "Surgery? No... no." Was he going to be injected? Was he right all along? All of this had just been trying to give him comfort before he was turned into something like Wesker?

"Ohhh, but I need a yes, Leon! There are three I am considering for you today."

Leon's mouth was dry. Looking down where Wesker was pointing. He laid bare on the table. His lower stomach pressed into by a finger.

"Did you know you have two tubes running from your bladder? I'm not going to cut them but what I can do is find the end of your bladder, it looks like a little valve, and remove it. You won't be able to feel it filling and when you need to go. You will just... go. That will make things much easier on us both."

Leon struggled harder, panting and banging his head back on the table, muffled by the surgery cap. Anything to get free. His heart rate jumping from an 89 to 99 in a matter of seconds. Yet this was just the beginning.

"No! No, no! You can't do this! You can't just cut me open and remove what you don't like!"

Wesker lifted his hand and pressed it to Leon's throat. "This goes too. Another microscopic cut like to your abdomen very soon but I will be slicing through vocal chords. The most you will be able to do will be to weep and to chirp like a little cricket. Though I might miss these talks. We can learn sign language together if that is necessary."

Leon's heart jumps again to 111. He was panicked. "I can change!"

He leans down closer to Leon, forearms on his knees. "Yes, I know you can change." His breath on Leon's cheek. "Because I am going to change you." Sitting up, he rolls his chair back to get his tray of equipment. He has everything he needs. Fingers walk across everything before getting to the end where he had a pick, mallet and drill. He picks up the stainless steel pick and mallet to show Leon.

"Do you know what this is? This goes under your eyelid, don't fret because I will be gentle. I will then tap it in with the mallet, separating the parts of your brain that are causing you issues. All very clean. You won't grow mold."

Tears stain Leon's temples. Gulping down the lump in his throat. It burns and is sharp around the edges.

"Did you do the practice run on yourself first?" Leon was still in there. The man that can crack a joke. Who liked bikes and old cars. Who was so much more than just a guy who's been hurt by the world and forced to play along. He knows that for as long as he lived he will do the bidding of the government in the guise that it was to stop people like Wesker. Not like this. But with the biological weapons and sicknesses. Even if he makes it out of this alive. If he is ever rescued. That doesn't mean he wants to end up that way.

"What goes around comes around, Wesker." Leon said.

Wesker got the mask ready, turning the gas on the three liter tank.

"What goes around comes around, Leon. No more rebellion." He pushes the mask into Leon's face, holding it there as he thrashed.

"10...9...8...7..." by the time he gets to 6 Leon's eyes were closing. Sedated by the gas.

The hour passes and Leon is in recovery. Or what is as close to that as possible. He's in a different room, dressed fully. He swallowed and it hurt. Looking around the dim room, the light coming in was sunlight but not enough of it. He reaches up to rub his eye but was stopped before he could. Wesker had been waiting beside him, waiting to wake up.

"Don't rub your eyes, baby. You’re not supposed to do that after surgery."

Leaning back in the bed, chest rising and falling. He didn't feel different. Fuck. Shit. Motherfucker. He said in his head. He can still remember Raccoon City. The Jungle. Spain. This.

"You didn't give me a lobotomy." He spoke. His voice weak from the lack of use and coming out of sedation. But it was there.

Was it all just a scare tactic?

No. It was not.

"No, I didn't. As I was thinking about cutting into your neck I had second thoughts about missing talking to you, hearing you laugh or sing. I didn't want to cut all of that out. I couldn't cut into your brain either." He pulls Leon's pants down in the front, pushing his shirt up.

Leon looks down. There was a cut there, stitched beautiful and bandage. His bladder had been cut into.

"Now you will always be my little boy, Leon. I am all that you have now. You are all that I want." Leon has been marked.

He can't have anything to eat or drink yet, not while his organs are still waking up. Tonight he could. But for these few hours after surgery Wesker helped Leon stand and to walk. Checking his diaper and seeing the surgery went smoothly. Leon felt nothing. No burning or itching and especially didn't feel he had went at all. Wesker changed him laying down.

Covering his head with a blanket as if it would transport him to a different world.

One where he wasn't reduced to this. A world for just him and him alone. It was safe there. No intruders. Like a womb. It was safe there and made just for him. That was where he went.

Chapter Text

An opportunity to run away from the daycare didn't make itself known the first time. Wesker and Krauser were too on top of him to get out. Leon's been playing his own games, acting like Wesker’s bouncing baby boy to lower those guarded walls all the way down.

It's been a week and upon Leon’s garbled request to play with Krauser at the slides, he was permitted to have it.

Leon was Wesker’s boy, he played the part well. Dressed in a one piece that button at the crotch of his diaper and some cargo shorts, socks and shoes put on last. The drive was the same as it was before.

Pulled out of the car and onto his feet, when the door squealed open Leon went to run after Krauser. Panting with his arms out on front of him, stumbling up the walkway. Krauser meets him half way and lifts Leon up into his arms. "Hey, Leon. You been a good boy for daddy?" Chuckling when Leon nods and throws his head down on his shoulder. Wesker coming up the stairs and meet up.

"He's been dying to come play here again." Wesker spoke, his hand reaching out to scratch in Leon's chest for a tickle.

"Has he now?" Krauser asks, patting his padded bottom. The diaper was put on before a mess could happen. That was progress. "Well, what are we waiting for?" Krauser asked. Leon yelled in delight.

Outside in the play area, Leon noticed the back door of the gate was left open with a playset he was putting together for Leon. He whines and points to it. Wesker turns to look, then back to Krauser. "That door shouldn't be open, he'll get curious and go investigate what you're doing. Leon could get hurt." But Krauser thinks explaining it to his regressed state of mind was better than telling him no. He has them both fooled.

"Leon." Krauser started. "Yes, I am building a playset for you but it's not done yet. It's not ready to be played on but maybe next time it will be." Leon was looking Krauser in the eye as he told him he couldn't play.

Acting like the message getting to his brain to understand taking longer than it actually had. He looks at Wesker, then beyond the gate. It was open. He could run for it.

"Can I help?" Leon asked.

Immediately Wesker said no but Krauser said yes. A difference of opinion.

"Jack, I said no." Wesker states again.

"But he wants to help. He can test the durability, can’t he?" It was one of those playsets with a slide in a roofed area, swings and a bar to climb. It was on the small size which was great to move around.

Wesker sighs. "Sure. He can help." But he was going to supervise his little Leon.

Leon swings on the both swings, the metal was holding his weight up good as Krauser digs the nails in deeper. "That's a good boy, Leon. Bounce a bit."

Wesker was watching, arms resting on the fence as Leon works one and one together, bouncing on the swing for Krauser to see if the metal bends. It didn't. "Good job, buddy. You’re such a big help. That's good for now. Step back so you don't get hurt." Krauser turns to Wesker. "Help me lift up the stepping bar."

"You can't do that yourself? You made it this far." Wesker told him, getting an irritated look back. "Just hold it while I screw it in." That was in Wesker's character, getting other people to do things for him.

Wesker lifts off the fence and walks around, going to the bar side to lift it up for Krauser to reach up and screw it in. Looking down at Leon on the grass, sitting and pulling it up by the handfuls. Turning his attention back to the bar.

Leon lifts himself to his knees, crawling away from the men working on how to put it together. This was his chance! Both of them were occupied and he can't let this moment pass him by. Putting one foot on the ground and lifted himself up, his legs shaking as he starts to take big steps away from the daycare. Down the steep hill and into the woods.

When Wesker looked back Leon was gone. "Leon?!" He yelled out, stepping away to look for his boy. He had looked away for just a minute! "This is your fault!" He tells Krauser, who scoffs.

"He couldn’t have gotten far. Probably just chased a butterfly." Looking too though far less panicked than Wesker. Seeing a head of blond hair down by his scrape pile. "Wesker! See? He’s right there." Krauser cups his hands around his mouth.

"Leon! Come here! That's not for you to play with!" He calls out, taking steps down with Wesker beside him.

Leon turns his head back for half a second before he bolts into the trees.

Wesker was first to run down the hill and after Leon into the trees. "After him! Don't let him get free!" Wesker commands, pushing branches out of his way to chase after him.

Leon, running far enough into the woods dropped down and crawled around the all the dead leaves and grass. They must have been here for years. A few sticks poke into his knee but he easily moved without making noise.

"My fault? How is any of this my fault? He's just desperate for your attention and he knew this would get him it." Krauser argues with Wesker. His fault. That was a good one. "He’s playing you, Wesker."

Two sets of footsteps enter the woods, boots crunching under pinecones and sticks. Wesker makes a hush sound in a bitter tone. "Stop stomping over everything! He's like a little raccoon right now, hearing us make all this noise." Meaning they were the hounds after him.

Their footsteps got quieter, careful to step over anything that would snap under their weight.

Leon kept crawling, kept moving. He couldn't be stuck in one spot and wait to have his fingers stepped on. The heels of his hands and knees were cold from the dirt, getting muddy as he kept crawling. A loose thread of his sock got caught on a short bush, tugging at his leg, the thread gets pulled away and left tangled in a branch. Leaving it behind as he was looking for a way back out. To a road or a neighborhood of houses. Something at this point.

Krauser was walking East when Leon was headed North. Looking down he sees the loose thread. Pulling it from the bush and in his hands.

"Wesker? Was Leon wearing yellow socks today?" Krauser didn't move when Wesker came over to look. Having been looking high to see if Leon was in the trees. Looking at the tread now.

"Yes, he is. So he's somewhere around here. We will split up."

He had to be getting close to something, right? He was slower when he crawled. Maybe he could stand up now and start walking. Up on his feet, he brushes off his knees and keeps going. Through the trees he thinks he sees the back of a brick house. A quaint road. Hearing the hum of a car getting closer and to pass by. He started to run. Running causes more noise.

"There you are!" Called the familiar voice of Wesker.

Lean didn't look back, he just kept running. Sticks and leaves crushing quickly as he was chased. Krauser running up to him at his side. But he kept running until he made it out. He was in someone's backyard.

"FIRE! FIRE!" Leon screams, tasting blood from how much he was running.

The back door opened fast at the call. But what also happened fast was that Leon got caught. Wesker wrapping his arms around Leon and lifting him up, kicking snd screaming.

"He's vulnerable! He doesn't know where he is." Wesker was adamant that this was his story. Just two caregivers trying to take care of their runaway.

"You stay right there. I'm calling the cops!" This resident stranger threatened.

Wesker quickly turns and leaves back through the woods. It was a better shortcut than going around the whole block.

Leon cries against Wesker’s shoulder, muffled as he was held close. A hand on the back of his head and the other spanking him over his clothes.

"Are you happy now, Leon? You almost got daddy in trouble. You don't even know what you're asking for, you little brat. The police will take one look at you and put you in a home for adults. You don't want that, I promise you!" Wesker spanks Leon's padded rear and the back of his thighs all the way to the building.

Krauser had been tailing behind, looking into Leon's eyes as he cried. This... this wasn't the story Wesker had told him. Why would Leon try so hard to run if he was happy with daddy? He yelled out fire. He wanted people to come see him.

Wesker had told Krauser this tall story that his relationship with Leon was planned out, everything set in stone and that Leon had been asking for it! This looked like he was asking to be saved. Following them to the car. Wesker was making quick work to get Leon in and put them back on the road before the potential of police would come.

"When we get home, Leon... oh boy, that ass is going to be sore." He scolds, buckling Leon up in the car seat, ignoring his crying.

Slamming the door shut, he opened the driver’s door and looks back to see Krauser standing there. He didn't turn all the way around.

"I suggest you grab the essentials and leave this place behind, Krauser. I know you just got it set up but it's been compromised. We don't need the D.S.O or anyone else after us right now." Stepping into the car, he slams the door and starts the engine. Backing out of the driveway and back up the road.

Krauser stands there a moment, the wind blowing past him as he looks at the ruins before him. All this equipment would have to be left where it laid. Most things here would be. Even after Wesker had told him the plan for this place. It wasn't going to work out now. He needed to be alone with Leon sometime soon. Get to the real truth of this.

Chapter Text

Bath water softly splashes, smelling like oat milk and lavender, good for sleep. Scrubbing in circles over his skin. Leon was quiet now. And Wesker wondered if Leon remembers what was done to him or if he's successfully buried those memories.

"Such a good baby for me." He murmured, soapy hands holding Leon's face, stroking his thumbs over his cheeks.

Sweat stained the collar of Leon's shirt, hair weighed down by more sweat. His skin glowing with chest grasping for his next breath every time. He was not bound but sitting up, Wesker kneeling beside him, sticking his arm with... well, something. Leon didn't know, just able to keep his eyes fluttering.

The needle is pulled out and set aside. Wesker standing and walking back. A soft clicker sound broke the silence of the room and a pulsing blue light flashed in Leon's face. He tried to turn away but it was right there, no where for him to go.

Wesker sits in front of it, even if he was visible he felt faceless with the shades on. "You're safe. You’re in your safe place. Waking. Waking now. Waking in a quiet room."

Leon squints. It wasn't quiet though. Was that a lullaby playing somewhere? Some CD on loop?

"What do you see?" Wesker’s voice carried through him and past him, out of the cracks of doors and windows.

"I see you." Leon fidgety in his chair. "The light hurts."

Wesker smiles. "Keep looking deeper. Where are you?"

But the light hurts. "In the house?"

"What kind of house?"

Leon gulps, throat sore. He grips the armrests tighter. "It's a play house. We're playing house together."

Wesker’s face was static, keeping his eyes on him. When he looked around everything was melded together and made him dizzy. Wesker wasn't like that, yet.

"To play house everyone has a set role. Your role is the baby." Watching Leon exposed to this kind of treatment was proving to be helpful to him. At least through Wesker’s point of view.

"The baby?" That much was obvious. From where he sleeps to what he was wearing. He was meant to be the loved one in their game. Leon was meant to be loving, tame and mild. That was his role.

"How does that make you feel?" Wesker wasn't a doctor of the mind, not like this. He knew the brain as much as he did about any other organ, what happens to it when it is attacked by viral infections. Socially? He's learned this recently from books.

"Leon? Is everything alright?" Leon's face paled. Looking peaky and too slick from overheating.

The therapy session ended early when Leon gagged and spit up over himself. The light must have finally overloaded him and made him queasy.

Drying Leon off with a towel, stuffing the corner of it in Leon's ears to get the water out. His body was smooth and smelt good when he lifted him up in his arms to take him back to the nursery and dress him.

Tonight's diaper was dinosaurs, green ones, blue, white and orange. All sleepy on a dark blue background. Along with that was a white oversized sleep shirt. It will be easier to get to his diaper to change him dressed like this.

Prying his jaw open, Wesker placed one of the few pacifiers he had in Leon's mouth, crooning in his ear as he sucks around it. "Yes, that's it. Babies love their pacifiers, don't they? Love when daddy takes good care of them and reads to them. Do you love that, little one?" His hands laid flat against either side of Leon's temples, all his focus in front of him. Smiling when Leon tries to talk around his pacifier.

"Yes, I think so too." Lifting him up to take to the chair, Leon in his lap with a new book, turning to the first page to read to him. Gripping him tightly, too tightly. Making Leon whine and shift but he couldn't help it. Leon was everything to him and he just wanted to keep him close. All the way down to the marrow. Bouncing his knee as he turns the page to soothe Leon back down.

"Bye, baby bunting,

Daddy's gone a-hunting,

To get a little rabbit's skin,

To wrap a baby bunting in."

Chapter Text

Just because it was Friday didn't mean work was finished. It was getting later on Chris by the time he sped through the end. Shoving his diary into his bag to strap across his chest. Rushing to Wesker’s office, the lights off and his desk neat. Still working on the radio, the batteries corroded and the acid was stuck to the springs. The captain working on fixing it.

Setting his report on the desk and looking around. The lights from the rest of the office making this small and stuffy room sleepy through the blinds. Adjusting the strap over his chest before leaving. Flipping the lights off and leaving the STARS office. Chris makes his way down the hall when he bumps into Wesker with a new cup of coffee.

"Captain! Hello, I just finished my report and left it on your desk." Chris says, watching Wesker move his hot cup from one hand to another, holding the bottom of it.

"Alright. Would you mind staying while I look over it? Just in the case any corrections should be made." It was like pulling teeth to get Chris to follow orders and write reports. There was always something wrong with them when he did do them, passive-aggressive remarks, vague statements. Those need corrections.

Walking back to the STARS room and to Wesker’s office, he sets the cup down and looks over the paper. Chris standing in the doorway, bored and looking up at a spot in the wood grain of the door. Waiting for Wesker to tell him everything he did wrong.

The report wasn't half bad, Wesker could accept it just the way it was but it was just them and both having the next few days off. Of course having to come in when called but other than that he could do it this time.

"A few paragraphs need to be reworked." Wesker says, holding the paper like he was going to keep it.

Chris rolls his neck. "Okay. Yeah, fine. I'll work on it off hours. I have to get going soon, got something out of town early tomorrow." Claire had been telling him about something new they were building in her city, he wanted to see what it was too.

"This won't take long, Chris. Maybe thirty minutes. Maybe a change of scenery is what you need."

"And I'll get it tomorrow." Chris stands firm.

But Wesker was more so. "Come by my place, I'll make you coffee. It's a change of scenery and a little closer to where you're going? Just finish it for me and head off. I'll come into work tomorrow and file it. No big deal."

No big deal he says. He's never been in Wesker's apartment but Jill and him have always imagined what it looked like. A one bedroom apartment, not like theirs where they sleep in pull out beds in the living area. He's the captain of STARS, he should at least have that.

"Okay." He shrugs. Though he wanted to refuse again, hoping Wesker would accept that. But no. When there is something he is persistent on he usually gets.

Taking his report back and following Wesker out into the hall, holding his coffee with both hands. Only shifting hold to open doors. The station wasn't quiet, people always working and fellow officers talking.

They took Chris's car, being he had to drive out of town when this was all done. Still... going to Wesker’s place felt unethical. "Why not the library? Or the art room?" Chris asked.

"The art room is crowded with old things and the library would have been alright. But then again it is still the station, I thought leaving it all would be beneficial."

Chris huffs, lifting his fingers off the wheel as a way to express he just has to accept that.

"Is this the right way?" Chris glances at Wesker, looking out the passenger window.

"Round the block and it's the green bricked building."

Oh? He lived there? That was such a small building from the outside, the two buildings on either side sandwiched that little place.

Parking and getting out. Yeah, it was just like Chris thought it was. A little building surrounded by bigger ones. The neighbors must be a headache. At least Chris doesn't hear his neighbors. Maybe he is the one they hear.

Going inside, the ground floor had bars blocking the hall that was the ground apartment. A sign saying it was for rent and getting a renovation. So basically Wesker has had the whole building to himself for a while. Talk about lucky.

Following the captain up the stairs, gripping his bag tighter. The closer they got the more dread was building. All his questions were about to be answered. What kind of things did he have hanging on the wall, what his dishes looked like, if he had plants or a thousand miniature horse figurines.

Wesker unlocked the door and walked in, flipping on the lights. Chris entered and closes the door behind him.

The front of the house was a kitchen and breakfast table, bathroom door was behind the chairs, making that nook real cramped.

Living room was a single love seat and coffee table, TV on a small entertainment center. Not a family picture in sight. No plants. No horses either. It was more intense than his locker at work. There was no personalization there either. Wesker could abandoned the house and someone new could move in. The only thing he did have was books. Not many, but worn and read over. Mixing medical books and cookbooks seems like a hazard but whatever. Chris had a thick pill book under his kitchen sink so who was he to question this.

He took a seat at the nook, nudging the books away to make room for his bag and his report. Looking at it, there were two red dashes Wesker had made on it. Just two things to fix. This would take way less than a half hour. Probably less than for Wesker to brew coffee. He was already working on that for him. Making coffee with middle road grounds and cheap filters, splurging on using bottled water.

Wesker turns after he got the coffee started, looking at Chris's back. He was here. Everything was prepared in what would normally be a bedroom but he's had second thoughts about it. About Chris.

Leaving to the bathroom to 'wash up'. Scrubbing his hands and up to his elbows clean. Picking up a dry, clean cloth and the small bottle of bleach. Unscrewing the lid, he held the rag over the mouth and poured it out for just a second before tipping it back. His heart was pounding. Getting the 70% Isopropyl alcohol to douse on it too, folding and squeezing the rag to get the two mixed well. He refolds it to be neat and fit in his back pocket.

He leaves the bathroom and steps over to Chris, looking over what he’s changed.

"There’s more room to sit in the living area. Try there?" And he walked to the kitchen to check on the coffee.

"I'm fine here." Chris said, looking back to see Wesker’s back, searching in the cabinets for a cup.

Coffee was poured, sugar and powdered sweetener added. Chris will take what he's given. Wesker transferred his own into a thicker mug. Both hands occupied, he walks back across to the nook to set them down.

"Thanks, captain." Chris murmured, taking a sip as he scratched at the paper. Glancing back over it, adding dots to the i's and more visible period marks. He sets the pen down and twists the paper, pushing it to Wesker.

He takes it, flashing one look to it. "That's much better. Getting out of the station can really take the stress off the shoulders."

Chris furrowed his brows. It's like he didn't even read it. Putting the cup down, he nodded. "Yeah, I guess it does." He didn’t know what else to say.

"Well, thanks for the coffee. If that's everything then I guess I'll head out."

Wesker stands up with Chris, but wasn't going to let him go yet. "I actually have something in my bedroom I want to give to you. An old jacket of mine I found. Doesn't fit anymore. Maybe you can give it a better home."

One of the captain's old jackets? Chris can imagine how cool it would be, the quality. He nodded, leaving his bag on the table to follow Wesker to his room.

He stepped in first and then Chris.

There wasn't a jacket.

It was... like a living diary. Every secret and deep workings of the mind. The walls can't be helped. Bet he wasn't allowed to paint them, landlords and all that.

There wasn't much but enough for Chris to know. Packets of depends briefs, the bed had a pale blue comforter over it, a teddy bear resting against the pillows. A milk warmer machine. He takes a couple more steps in, face a mix of shock and awe.

Wesker takes steps around Chris, getting behind him. One hand on his hip and the other touching his back pocket. "I been wanting someone to share this with for a while now. Maybe it wasn't the best time but I didn't know the next time we'll be alone for me to invite you. I hope you can forgive me for pulling you away."

Waiting with baited breath what Chris was going to say. How bad the repulsion was going to be. That's why he had the rag. To quiet him down when he starts to fight.

"Captain..." Chris said softly, shifting his feet to turn around. "Oh, Captain."

Wesker’s brows raise over the rim of his shades when Chris shoved his pants down, hitting the floor with a soft thud. Chris was already wearing briefs.

He never expected Chris to already be in on it. For the world to feel even smaller and having found someone with the same interests in his own staff.

"Where have you been sleeping, Wesker?" Chris knew it wasn't there.

"...The couch pulls out. I been... using it." And Chris suspects it's been a while as well.

He bends down to pick his pants back up. His actions said enough.

"Do you want me to stay?"

Wesker nodded. "More than anything. I'll check what I have in the bathroom, see how far we can go with this. Look around or... take a seat on the couch." And he went back to the bathroom, pulling the rag from his pocket and running it under hot water while he checked if his bubble bath bottle was still good. It was.

Turning off the sink and ringing out the rag, he folded it in a pair of dirty pants to hide it, putting it back in the hamper.

Chris was still looking around the nursery when he returned.

"I have bubble bath mix. I'd love to bathe you." He confessed. Waiting for how Chris would respond.

Of course he was middle road, "We can. I guess I'm still shocked. I thought I was the only one in the whole town that liked this sort of thing. I didn't expect you. I been alone, doing my own thing. If we want to be a team, maybe we should sit down and see where you and I stand in all of this."

That would be alright. Wesker knew he was authoritative but loving. Chris didn't know this. And he needed to know how Chris was. Was he bratty? Sensitive? Clingy? Or just a sweetheart?

"Alright. Let's discuss. And then a bath."

Chapter Text

Leon watched Daddy and uncle Jack talk, laid down on his back, on Daddy's bed with his legs open and a clean diaper laid underneath him.

"I was looking forward to the daycare, too, Krauser. But that didn't work out and Leon didn't leave work on good terms. I'm trying to keep him safe." Wesker worked out, looking at Krauser with a bottle of baby powder in his hand.

Leon reaches out for it. Hey, let me have that. I can do it.

Wesker glances down at his impatient baby, pouring the baby powder down and gently patting it into his skin. The sound his skin made was soft and supple. Speaking all the while.

"So for the time being, he'll have to stay home while I go run errands and you stay here to watch him. It's home. He's comfortable here. I'll think of something eventually." Wrapping the diaper around his boy, a wild western theme with horses and and sherif stars printed over it.

Lifting Leon up, he transferred him to Krauser. Leon dangled more in the bigger man's arms, laying his head down on his shoulder.

"I'll be gone a couple of hours. I got a lab check and some physical training to get back into. I have his food in the fridge, his milk too. Don't over indulge him." He and Krauser were walking to the front door where he picks up a sports bag to put over his shoulder. Turning to Leon.

"Kiss daddy bye-bye, baby." He coos, hands out. Leon leans over and kisses Wesker’s cheek. Whining when he opened the door and left without him.

The cries got more intense when the situation settled and daddy was leaving. Leon squirms in Krauser's arms, wanting to go with Wesker but his hold doesn't budge. Instead he's held close and shushed.

"He's got you all messed up, doesn't he?" Krauser speaks softly, walking back to the couch with Leon.

Sitting down, he sets Leon on his knee. "Come on, stand for me." Krauser encourages, getting Leon to stand but he wobbles and whines, probably because his daddy isn't here.

"Daddy!" Leon whines, sounding like a cricket with a broken leg. "My daddy!" Begging for uncle Jack to make daddy walk through the door again.

"You want Wesker that bad? What has he done to you, rookie?" Krauser asked, holding Leon's hands. When Leon shied away, he only kept pushing.

"This isn't you, rookie. You used to be such a big man, somebody I could be proud of. And then you got... mixed up real bad." He needed to crack this shell, no matter how fortified.

He goes to check Leon over. Lifting his shirt to find soft curves and dips where there used to be iron muscle, a soft underbelly. His legs had soft, white fat where there used to be none. It wasn't a lot but it was enough to make him weaker.

Leon shifts as Krauser looks at him, feeling like he's trying to be changed but Krauser is doing a bad job at it. And his feet were getting sore. Sliding down on his bottom, Krauser's hands slip away and he was comfortable. But for just a moment.

At the new angle, Krauser checks Leon's scalp. His scalp is near perfect, there was a few blemishes but no flakes or buildup. His hair smelt good and was freshly cut, the back and sides cut shorter, growing back darker than the golden blond growing from the top. Wesker takes extremely great care of Leon, building his body for warmth and comfort rather than for strength and power. Tilting his chin back now.

"Can you open your mouth for me?" Krauser pulls at Leon's lips, getting clenched teeth.

"Rookie." His tone teetering on stern. And his mouth opened. No cavities, nothing between his teeth. Even the back of his tongue was spotless. This was more than what Krauser even does for himself.

And all of this would be fine, he would be alright babysitting Leon if this was what he wanted. But he didn't. He yelled out fire that day. And wherever he is now in his head, he was sure Wesker had Leon locked up on there. But Krauser was going to bust him out. The name Rookie was already shaking the walls of the bone area of his skull.

It was just a waiting game now. To wait long enough for Wesker to not turn back because he forgot something while also not waiting to be leaving with Leon when psycho daddy comes back. So he allows Leon to play, observe what he does.

He's gotten over Wesker leaving a little bit, crawling away to his pen where he pulls out a couple toys to play with. Krauser doesn't put him in the pen. It was taller than any baby pen in stores. Who made it? And why? And why all of this to begin with? Krauser was so curious he couldn't see straight. But he'll never know why, he won't be asking. That kiss goodbye Leon and Wesker had will be their last time together. He was taking the Rookie away from all of this. It's going to be hard at first, like finding a soldier that's been tortured and broken for days, getting them out of there and back to something normal. That nature to go back what they were used to. He never gave in before and he wouldn't now.

The hour passes. That should be enough time that if Wesker realizes he forgot something, they will be long gone from here by the time he’s coming back.

Having some foresight, Krauser ransacked the house while Leon slept on the couch. He looked exhausted. He found a luggage case in Wesker's closet, filling it up with whatever papers looked important. Files and a camera case he found, tapes with dates included. Some clothes he'll dress Leon in when he gets him out of here.

As much as he didn't want to, he also stored diapers in the luggage too. Needing to retrain Leon to use the potty— what? What was he thinking? Krauser shook his head to knock those thoughts loose. It's called a toilet or even a John. Not potty. He wasn't Wesker.

Having everything he needed, he got one of Wesker's reusable shopping bags to put food in, Leon's food. The bottles of milk and the food Wesker had made for himself. He'll be feeding that to Leon to get his body where it should be.

He takes everything to his own car, a beat up truck that was light enough for him to lift up from one end or the other. Last thing to get was Leon.

Rubbing his back to get him to stir. Leon rubs his eyes and pouts out his lips, making a sucking motion around nothing. Holy fuck he has the rookie conditioned.

"Hey, Leon. You ready to wake up? You and I are going to go somewhere far from here."

Leon slowly pushed himself up, lifting his arms for Krauser to carry him. "See daddy?" He asked slowly.

Hearing a huff and a puff as he lifted Leon up, thinking he would do this one last time. "Not quite, rookie. You and I are going out for an adventure. I'm taking you driving for a long, long time and then to a motel, maybe even one with a pool. Who knows. You love swimming still, don't you rookie?"

Leon watches with still sleepy eyes the house for the last time, carried out the front door. Everything slipping away from him until he sees the outside. A shard falls.

"The water was always so cold." Distant memories that felt like good dreams you hold onto all your life resurface. Things that weren't dreams at all but his reality. The summer spent swimming, diving and holding his breath all to make him stronger.

Put in the passenger side and buckled up, slightly jostled when uncle Jack gets in and starts up the engine. Loud purring and revving under him. The rattle of something loose in the back as they pull from the driveway and out. The house getting smaller until he doesn't see it anymore. 

Chapter Text

No matter what, I will always find you

phone
"Stop..." Leon murmured, turning his face away from Wesker's loving touch, feeling sick from the tenderness of it.

His attempts to fight back felt satisfying.

Those quiet pleas of his, the sickness in his voice, the way he turned his beautiful face away from his touch. Oh how he wanted to break him. Wanted to watch his mental downfall, his surrender.

"Shhh. We have a long day ahead of us." He lightly held his face again to be seen, not away from.
***********
8 d
He looks at Wesker, not by choice, his throat twitched when he swallowed back his bite. "Why?" Why to it all, why the crib and the nursery, why him.

"Shh." He repeated, moving his hand to his hair to play with at the back of his neck. His smile grew slightly wider.

"I'm going to take good care of you, I promise." And by taking good care, he meant break him so that he can do nothing but be his.
*********
3 d
How can he play this smart? Get out from underneath a very potential and very bad case of blue beard, that yet still felt original in all the worst ways.

"Not like this. And definitely not by you."

Oh, he was just perfect. Struggling in his new environment, uncomfortable and unhappy. 

He loved it, fed that little sadistic he had inside him. It fed the control hungry side that wanted to watch him fight until he gave in.

His hand slowly traveled down his face to his jaw, holding firmly. "Don't be like that. You'll appreciate it in the future. You'll be very taken care of. Very ... loved."
********
3-4 d
"No — no!" He gasps out. He didn't want to be forced any more than he already was. He didn't like it rough even if that's what life gave him, often.

That beautiful tongue lightly licking against his thumb had him reeling. He loved this stubbornness, his fire, his refusal to accept this but yet he knew he was craving the idea. He must be. Wanting the attention, wanting someone to do everything for him.

"You'll learn to love it. I'll teach you how to love it." Wesker continues. "I'll teach you to love being cared for, to be dependent on me."
**********
6 d
He still had plenty of time to keep him in his crib, to slowly break and warp his mind.
********
3 d
"You're not getting away with this."

Just wait, sweet Leon, he thought. Wait until you're deep into this. Wesker knew what he was doing, he knew that once the submission started it wouldn't stop. He'd have his control,  he would have him.
*********
8 unused
Leon didn't know how much time had passed, what's been done during his induced nap. But, he was stirring from the sounds of the crib gate being lowered. Shifting where he laid, only to be touched and rearranged to lay on his back.

His mind was fuzzy, but he was feeling a lot better at least. Eyes hardly open as it was.

There was nothing like watching Leon’s pretty little face stir from his sleep, so tired and out of it, out of it enough not to fight back. It was almost a shame.

Wesker took his time to touch him, move him and arrange him the way he wanted to have him. All the while, he spoke. "There's a good boy, just lay where I put you. Don't move, don't speak, just rest your little head and be a good boy for me."
**********
6 d
Leon felt sick to his stomach, like he had just been gutted, worse than that actually. He whimpers, pained little sounds as he looks down at himself, infantile in all matters of the word.

"It's not easy." Feeling like he's been plunged into the deep end, and held under the water.

He loved the sounds he made. He could feel his need to surrender soon, slowly, to give in. It was so sweet, it tasted like honey in his mouth.

He reached down, petting his hair, shushing him. "Shhh, shh, you did so well, sweetheart. Look how good you look, you're just a sweet little baby now, aren't you?"
***********
 6 d
"Be a good boy and stop trying to take it off. You're going to start wetting them all by yourself soon, anyway..."

Eyes widen, his heart drops and Leon yanks his hands free from Wesker's grip. Rubbing at his wet eyes to dry them. "I'm not going to do that!"

He couldn't help but find his reaction to be endearing. He was so cute, trying to be adamant about not using his diapers. It was going to happen, whether he wanted to or not.

"Oh, yeah, you will. You'll get thirsty sometime and you'll drink something. And once you do, you'll be using that diaper whether you want to or not," Wesker places his hand upon his chest, "and you'll have daddy right here to change you, every time, no matter what."
*************
8-9 d
"Please don't." Leon whispers, "Please just let me go. I won't tell anyone."

He was struggling so hard, trying to fight against something he didn't know how to fight. He was drowning, falling into a deep pit he couldn't escape from and Wesker was making sure he couldn't dig himself back out.

"No... no. I'm not going to let you go. You're home now, pretty boy."
*********
8-10 d
He had to escape this, somehow and some way. Not this very moment, not when it would be so easy to catch him, but that didn't stop him from looking, trying to understand the room and perhaps what laid outside of it.

"Why are you doing this?"

It was just precious, watching his little eyes dart around the room. Even while he was trapped in a crib, even while he was completely at Wesker's mercy was he still looking for an escape. 

"Why am I doing this? Why wouldn't I do this? You're special, so pretty and sweet. I've wanted something like you for years now, someone that I can take care of, make dependen—"

He cut himself off, not wanting to say too much.

"You'll understand soon, love."
************
7 d
What little light was shed on Wesker's psyche wasn't enough for Leon to pounce on, but it was something more than nothing. 

Watching as Wesker moves away, putting his crib bars back up, leaving Leon in them. Leon was far from being trusted as to why he was held inside. "What ... what are you doing now?"

He pulled the crib bars up, containing his little boy, ensuring that he would be unable to escape. He couldn't have him wandering free, no, oh no. He was to be kept under control, not even a chance to leave.

He smiled, watching Leon as he continued to cry. What a precious little boy he was.

"Just relax, sweetheart. Daddy's just going to grab something, then I'll be right back."
************
7 d
Leon knows why Wesker wanted him to scoot back, so he doesn't try and make a quick run for an escape. Both knowing it was what Leon was thinking, always thinking somewhere in his mind.

Hesitantly, he scoots back, hands slipping from the crib so Wesker could feed him something Leon was dreading.

He reached in and scooped the man up into his arms, bringing him to his chest to take him over to the big nursery chair. Sitting down with him in his arms, cradling him in his lap.

He held the bottle to Leon’s mouth, tilting it. "Come on, baby. Be a good boy and take a drink for me. It'll calm you ... taste good."

Leon knew the milk wasn't just to calm him, no, it was to fill his bladder and make him break.
**********
7 d
In the back of Leon's mind he knew what all the liquids were really for and the dread settles low in his stomach, clumping at his sides with the knowledge that in a few hours he was going to have to make a choice that really wasn't a choice.

"I don't get you, Wesker. You ... you're ..." He was nothing to what Leon had been warned about, or read about him.

He didn't expect Leon to understand, but it was still cute to hear his voice talk to him, even if it was in confusion. 

"Oh, love, that's no surprise. Many people don't "get" me, they're too afraid of me."

He continued to pat his belly, running his hand gently over his skin, rubbing his full belly.
**********
6 d
"And if I refuse?" Leon cut in. He was an already broken man, his shell fortified from special ops, military training, being with the government and keeping their secrets. Thinking he won't re-break here.

"If I fight you until you get the hint I'm not partaking in all this willingly?"

He knew exactly what Leon was trying to do, what he meant. How he was going to try and fight it, try and resist. He thought he could be stubborn enough to make Wesker give up.

"Oh, lovely boy ... you really think you're tough enough to fight me? You really think you can refuse? You're going to be a good boy for me whenever you want to or not. In fact, you already have been."
********
7 d
"You're so wrong, little boy. Don't you think it's easier for you to just give in? You're already in a diaper, you drank your milk and you laid in my lap like such a sweet boy."
********

He was prowling back to the crib, looking down to look Leon in his eyes. "This is about reprogramming you, making you dependent upon me. And what better way to do that than by reversing your development, making you helpless and entirely reliant on me for everything?”

Chapter Text

She haunted his dreams, all of her in disembodied parts. At first it was just her presence, the air cooling when she was around. Then a voice until he could make out parts of her. Short, dark hair and red lips. Her soft arm, the muscles in her neck. The way she walked, looking at her back as she kept getting farther from him. Stopping to turn and smile, her eyes... eroded holes in his memories kept some parts of her blacked out. But there was enough there of her.

Even dreaming of a woman now has Leon waking up rigid and tight. His core clenching as the waves crash through him. Wet dreams drip out of him like an old sink. He can't help it, can't remember the last time he was able to enjoy himself.

Waking up with the soles of his feet thumping, nuzzling into the pillow as he wakes. Was it too early for Wesker to be up yet? Turning his eyes up to the monitor, the red light there to watch him. He can't possibly get any relief with it watching him, right?

He got a new clock in his room. It was blue and lit up, the glitter inside moving around. Powered by batteries, sitting on top of the bookcase. He didn't have a clock for the longest time, maybe because Wesker wanted Leon confused. Whatever the case was, it's been dropped and now it's much easier to keep up with the schedule put in place for him.

It was 05:04, much too early for Wesker to be up.

Back to the monitor that's still watching him. There was a brief flashback of a particularly hard time in his life. Large groups of men sleeping in the same room, the sound of boots walking up and down the rows of beds to make sure everyone stayed down. Dreams of women was all they had. Hiding under blankets and being very slow as to not get caught. Leon, wide awake as his bunk mate made soft, wet clicking sounds through the night. Even with the chance of getting caught was so very, very high.

He's all alone here, with blankets and darkness. Not even a real set of eyes on him. Maybe... maybe he could.

Rolling around slowly, pulling the covers over his head. He can't see. Making a small chimney with it to get air in, he went to mess with the diaper. The tapes were loud, and too tight around him to shove his hand down the front of it. Using the heel of his hand at first to find friction before he said screw it and got the damn prison off on one side. He reaches for it and thinks of her again, eyes closed. The first time he's felt any pleasure in so long.

Everything was getting tighter again. That was when the door creaked open, and all the blood rushed back up to his heart and brain to start panicking. Unable to have a second to himself! Shaking fingers look for the tape again to stick back on. The sound of tired cooing getting closer.

"Baby? Are you still sleeping? Daddy's sorry he has to wake you up so early." Wesker comes near, turning the monitor off and looking down at the shape under the blanket. "And you look so cozy too, all warm and still..." He yawns. Already fully dressed a teal and black sweater, black pants to match. Peeling the covers down, smiling at his sleepy boy. Leon smells his toothpaste, it was cinnamon.

Curled on his side like a petrified fox carcass, he attempts to pull the blanket back up to hide. Maybe this time he'll be transported somewhere better.

No such luck this time. Wesker pulls it off entirely.

"Oh, I know, dear. It's too early and cold but we're going to miss our flight if we don't get you up."

Flight? What flight? Leon didn't utter a word. He's going through something right now, as far as he can tell, Wesker thinks the regression has deepened. And in some ways it has but after his dreams he wakes up, figuratively, from being Wesker’s good baby to a frightened man. Leon never felt his age, but the jump between 1 and 21 is stark enough.

Laid on the changing table, the overhead light on made him feel like a test subject. He wept and clenched his knees together until he shook. His froggy pajamas spilling out of the hamper, the warmth stripped away from him. He didn't want Wesker to see him.

Frustrated and huffing, Wesker got the tapes laid down like wings before he braced his hands on the edge of the table. "Leon." He warns at first. "Baby, what's the matter? Are you sick? Have a boo-boo? Daddy needs to see you. I've changed you countless times before, have you forgotten?" Done being gentle when Leon crossed his ankles too, knees up to hide. Holding onto his legs, he pried them apart and swipes at the diaper with the tips of his fingers. Having to use both his hands to keep his legs open.

The fairy-tale cracked when Wesker seen what the issue was. Leon's penis was swollen, not completely limp like he was used to seeing. So this was why the design on the diaper was only half faded.

Leon looked upset and he did want to give him the benefit of the doubt for this. He didn't want the fantasy to be ruined either.

"Has your peepee been bothering you, baby?" Wesker spoke soft, questioning like a child therapist speaking to a particular difficult case. And Leon nodded, eagerly so, with tears wetting his cheeks. He put out the bait and Leon inhaled it.

"It was bound to happen, hm? Boys find their little fidget toy eventually. Daddy knows how to soothe them."

Taking Leon's naked body to the bathroom for a bath before their travels. Leaving him on the toilet seat, sealed shut with child safety locks, rolling up his sleeves he turns the water on, all the way to the blue. Fingers under the raging faucet, the water was very cold. Once filled he stops it and gets Leon who had been watching.

When his feet touched the water he felt the cold water, as cold as ice. It wasn't too bad.

But then he was set down in it. He cries out, trying to stand up out of the frozen tub he's been plunged into. But Wesker just pushes him back in. "I know, I know. It's very cold. This won't take long."

And he was right. Leon's pitiful erection shriveled back up from how cold the water was. Wesker didn't wet his hair, just pouring the cup down his back and his shoulders. Cupping water in his hands to wash the tears away. No soap, just a quick rinse and to cool him down, he needed it.

Shivering when pulled out of the draining tub, Wesker dried him off with a towel and carried him back to the nursery with it wrapped around him.

It wasn't very cold where he had Leon and himself living, not today anyways. But where he wanted to take them was much colder, so Wesker got out the winter clothes he had been storing in the bottom of the closet in a tub, a packet of odor absorbent somewhere in the middle. Leon looked good in darker, neutral tones. A dark cream fleece bodysuit paired with dark blue creased stirrup pants. His socks were soft baby blue with ships on them, rubbing the soles of his feet to warm them.

"You look so pretty this morning, baby. My pretty boy. I bet you're excited to go on the big plane today. It's daddy's plane so it will just be us on it." He coos to Leon, setting his leg down to grab the coat and his boots. Leon sucked and bit his thumb to keep quiet.

Arm pulled away, a puffy blue coat was put around him, making swishing sounds when he moved. Last to put on was the boots before he was lifted off the changing station and to the floor. Wobbly on his legs, he grips Wesker’s arm as he was lead to the kitchen where a diaper bag was already waiting on them. "I'll feed you on the plane, you can wait, can't you?" Looking down to Leon.

It was a full stop. Wesker frozen in his spot, waiting for Leon to acknowledge anything he said. Leon hasn't said a word in... many days. He cries and makes noises but words? He shifts on his feet, gripping Wesker’s arm a little tighter.

"I... I don’t know." He pouts, his own voice a surprise to him. How different it sounded from lack of use. But Wesker seemed most pleased.

"Well, we will see how you are. If you get too hungry on the way daddy will work things out." Satisfied, he grabs the diaper bag and walks Leon out of the house, turning off the lights and locking it as they left.

It was dark most of the drive, and quiet as well. Leon touched the window and it was cold on his knuckles. Feeling tired, he had fallen asleep with his head lulled to the side.

In the front seat with Wesker was his small satchel, the contents more at the buckle than the bottom. He had some snacks for himself, a notebook, among other things and an English to Russian dictionary.

Stirred from his rest, Leon rubbed his eyes as he was unbuckled from his seat. They were on the landing strip, the whirling of the plane close. Suddenly he was wide awake and opened his mouth to yell.

"Hey, hey! Hush now, baby." Quickly Wesker covers Leon's mouth with his hand. Letting out a deep sigh, resting his forehead on the hood of the car. Leon wasn't in his baby head space anymore. He should have realized that this morning. What had happened was what probably broke him out of it. And here Wesker thought it was just curiosity. No, it was clear now. He can't ignore Leon's biology forever and think it would just retract. But he can fix it.

He pulled his hand from Leon's mouth and slammed the door back. This surprised Leon, being he was left in his car seat, unbuckled and unsupervised. Stunned into making no action, he holds the buckle in his hand.

When the door opened again, Wesker’s tone had changed. Gasping happily at Leon, maybe it was genuine, his eyes lighting up behind the shades.

"Hello, baby! What is it you got in your hand, huh?" His touch was gentle when he took Leon's hand in his, the buckle falling out and back to swinging at the bottom of his seat.

"Oops! You dropped it, little one. That's okay though. Daddy has something for you." Like way too many toys to keep a rambunctious toddler behaved. Wesker had a pacifier, pushing it between Leon's lips though Leon didn't suck.

When he pulled away it threatened to fall out, "Whoops!" Wesker catches it and puts it back in. "Silly boy! Are you a silly boy? Suck your pacifier for daddy, now, okay? When we get in the plane we can wave bye-bye to everybody, that sounds good to you?"

Leon didn't suck but he did actually hold it while he was lifted, his hood put up to hide who he was. People were scattered like ants, big men in bulky clothes. Wesker’s paid staff? The plane? Did Wesker really have a plane in his name?

He fussed around the pacifier, kicked his legs and thrashed around in Wesker’s arms as they ascended the stairs up. Daddy having a bruising grip on him, rubbing his back. "Oh, my poor cranky boy! So hungry and tired. I know, daddy knows."

The plane had large seats, probably four rows turned into two from how big they were. No way of getting cramped legs here.

Guided to one row and set on his feet, Wesker nudged him all the way to the window seat. "Look, baby. Look at all the people. Wave bye-bye!" Wesker points out the window.

And in a way Leon does. His hand on the thick glass, beating on it and screams muffled from the pacifier. Why didn't anyone help him? Why are they just going through the motions? Don't they see? Don't they know this is wrong, more wrong than what they signed up for?

Wesker had sit next to him, pulling his hood down and fixing his hair. "Come, little one. Time for breakfast and to rest." He says, the diaper bag on the other side. Pulling out the bottle of milk and giving it a shake. Pulling Leon down to lay in his arms where he wiped his tears and pulled his little mute button out for the bottle instead. "I know it, dear. Hush, hush and be a good baby for daddy." He was trying his hardest to inject the regression back into him. Was it working? Maybe a little but Wesker wanted more.

Smiling when Leon's whines faded out into sounds of pleasure. There really wasn't anything like a tall bottle of protein milk, vanilla and a dark chocolate in the bag for later. "That's it, my sweet boy. Drink up."

The flight was long and boring, even when Leon had another nap in the middle of it. Having to sit in a wet diaper for the flight, even if he didn't feel wet he knew he was. The embarrassment of having to sit like this and wait for Wesker to change him whenever they land or who knows when. When he tugged at Wesker’s sleeve, how Wesker put his finger over his lips to indicate to Leon to be quiet.

"There isn't enough room to change you, baby. Not unless I get up and lay you over all the seats." Tapping his finger on the baby book open in front of him, shaking the plastic teething ring of keys. "Look, look, play with your toys and it won't be for much longer."

Leon gave him a stinky side eye, letting out a great big huff before he turned the cardboard page of the book, oh look, it's another illustration of Old McDonald's Farm, again. Wesker must think he's stirred Leon back into his baby head space. And to be fair, Leon hasn't gave him reason not to believe that. But he wasn't in it. He'll let Wesker continue to think he is however.

When the plane did finally land and it was time to depart Wesker was ready to change Leon, having wet the diaper again. Standing up with the bag, he puts it behind him and took out the supplies he needed before turning back to Leon. "Come to daddy, sweetheart. Yes, such a good boy." He coos, easing Leon down and tugging his pants down to his ankles. Pulling off the soiled sail boat diaper, wrapping it up to toss soon, he went about wiping his boy clean. It was the same as it always was, clinical and professional. Wesker never stared unless he seen an issue, gliding the wipe across his skin and lifting his legs up to get the back and the creases.

"Good boy. Daddy's laying the new diaper down, then I will powder you and tape you back up." The talking was new. Maybe he was trying to get the regression to stick like adhesive, maybe it was a new thing to do with the lifestyle. Hell, maybe it's just an old habit of being a doctor, Leon didn't know.

The diaper had a pattern in the front and the back had a dragon looking excitedly up at the 123 ABC printed above it's head.

Pants pulled back up and lifted into Wesker's arms, diaper bag slung across his chest. Carried out of the plane and down the steps, Leon almost soiled the fresh diaper at what was waiting for him, or more like who.

Sergei Vladimir and Nikolai, names that stand out on Umbrella's list, waiting for him.

Leon struggles against Wesker to get away. It was futile. So incredibly futile as he walks down to them. Getting closer, close enough to reach out. And they do. The bigger one does, with his finger grazing against his hair.

"Wesker has a baby now." He said. And Wesker held him firmly.

"Mm, yes, I do. He's a good baby. Are we going now?" He asked.

"Yes, the car is this way. Come along." Leon only able to look at the back of their heads as he was taken to the black vehicle and put in the back. Whatever it was that Wesker had planned made Leon dread it was to snap him completely. 

Chapter Text

The office was busy, the fax machine spitting out paper and alarming it was finished, typing and whirling of computers. Wesker's office phone that is wired to the Chief's had a new message. And in all of this chaos the Captain was looking over letters. A particular pupil has his eye, a young woman named Rebecca. She might be a good match for Bravo team.

Glancing up when the soft rapts of knuckles hit his door frame. "What can I do for you, Jill?" Wesker asked, setting the papers down.

She had her cheek between her teeth and her eyes had a lot of questions in them. Closing the door behind her and stepping in. This was serious.

"Have you heard anything from Chris recently? We are all pretty worried about him, Captain." This was an emotional matter, concern for one's fellow men. Who else was she suppose to turn to?

Taking a big breath and tapping his finger down on the top paper in thought before quickly sitting up like it came to him suddenly.

"I have, actually. Last night." That wasn't a complete lie. And Wesker watched her straighten her back, eyes lighting up with hope and hopefully news to tell to the hushed voices over thinking of asking themselves.

"He called me very late, it was a new day for him. Europe is treating him well but he didn't tell me exactly where he was, he probably didn't know either. And he said that he wanted to extend his trip with his sick days he's collected. And I allowed it." Which on the surface looked to be very generous.

"You think he'll be back by next week?" She asked for confirmation.

Wesker took a deep breath with this one, looking away at the windows of his office, through the blinds as if he was thinking hard about it. "Well, if he doesn't, I guess that means you and I will be heading to Europe to collect him." And he watched her laugh, as if it was a joke. Of course he'll be back.

It was late when Wesker got in, much later than what his shift was. He had to stop at the labs, talk with Birkin about taking what he has done and leaving with it. Wesker felt like he was being ripped in half to either jump ship with someone familiar or to run the other direction with his charge. He can't have both and he knows it.

He comes home to his baby. Turning on lights on the way to his room, flipping that one on to see Chris was exactly where he left him. Arms and legs tied to the bed post with a thick diaper under his clothes. He was weeping softly to himself. Only squirming when Wesker was present.

"Albert, please... please let me go. Nobody has to know. I'm sorry I yelled, this was all so sudden. We can still play on the weekends just please —!" He was hushed by two fingers pressing firmly to his lips.

"Aww, my baby is all fussy from being away from daddy all day. But baby knows better than to fuss to daddy, doesn't he? You know I can't understand you when you get upset like that." Wesker spoke in his warning voice but it was different than the one he used at the station. This one was slower but had no tone of mocking. He was genuine, as if Chris is a troubled child.

When he pulled his fingers away, Chris gulped and pulled at his bindings. "I plays now, daddy?" Chris asked in the tone and structure Wesker wanted him to. And Wesker smiles then, undoing the bindings.

"Yes, sweet boy. Daddy thinks you can get up to play now." Helping Chris sit up and lifting his shirt, he has bed sores forming from being sedentary for well over twelve hours a day. He can't keep continuing like this. Others are starting to have more questions than he can keep up with.

Chris holds onto Wesker's arm as he was guided over to the small living area where he had some baby books and puzzle toys. Helping him to the floor to play before leaving for the kitchen to prepare some medicine and a meal. Being still for so long was bad, Wesker knew this, and has been using a remedy.

Crushing blood thinners with formula in a bottle for his special boy. Wesker liked those newborn bottles with the white band and big nipple. Sometimes he liked to just hold it in his hands, feel the textures. Sure that Chris liked it, too.

He measures the formula and the crushed pill together at the bottom of the bottle before he uncapped the gallon of water to pour in over it. Screwing the lid on and shaking it, he comes back to Chris.

"Baby." Wesker’s voice carried warning across the space. Chris up on his knees at the window, trying to press both hands into the children lock. "Does daddy need to get the wooden spoon made just for you?"

Chris shuddered at the thought of that thing again. When he was set to play and watch Wesker carve into the spoon BAD BABY CHRIS and test it on him. Leaving the words faintly printed on his sore bum. He jerked his head no and slipped his hands off the window to crash into the floor to catch himself.

He was lifted under his arms and dragged back over to the pullout bed. Lifted into Wesker's arms with the nipple tickling his bottom lip. He opens and is repulsed by the taste.

Wesker fussed over him. "Come on, it's not poison. It can't be that bad." He had bought the number one baby formula, at least, that was what the can said it was. It was the most popular so why didn't his baby like it?

When it was sucked down Wesker set it down on it's side on his bed to get the towel to lay over his shoulder. Holding Chris close to beat his back for a burp.

Chris often used this time to weep instead of burp. In a way it was comforting, the only chance for a hug he gets. Chris passes gas and Wesker praises him. His other hand was supporting his bottom.

"Different end than what I was anticipating but it's good enough for me if it is for you." He tells Chris. "Now go back to playing, baby. Daddy is going to make you a special dinner tonight."

Chris was too weak to fight Wesker at the table. The use for a bed belt to keep patients down wasn't needed anymore. It did a great service to him when he took it from the hospital. Just in case Chris fought him, he had plans. Though he did wish they didn't have to use them in the first place.

Dinner was a lot, actually. All mush, some was hot mush that had steam coming off of it. Super soft and grainy bread and potato mix, watered-down hummus, canned refried beans with a jello cup for dessert.

Wesker looked at Chris without the shades a lot, with this bewildered look in his eye when he didn't burst with love for the treatment. He was like someone who wanted an adult baby without looking into anything at all and expecting himself to know exactly what to do.

"It's good? Daddy worked hard making this for you, messing up all the dishes. You need to eat well, you got work in a few days and I want it to be seamless when you return." Wesker said, scrapping the jello cup to give to Chris. He gasped after the last bite, pleading again.

"Albert, please, God please just open your eyes. This isn't right. I can get you help for this, parenting classes or something. I can see you're sad and desperate for something missing that is fundamental for you and I can help you fill it up! I need a hospital, Albert. I can't work in this condition!" Chris begged his little heart out. All for Wesker to stop and stare, the gears turning in his head.

"My little babbling baby!" He coos then. "Getting so close to talk with daddy but not fully grasping it yet. You will though, daddy will teach you. It's bath time and then a bit more play before bed. Come, sweetheart." He stands and lifts Chris up, who slumps against Wesker, too tired for anymore tears.

Chapter Text

"Now I said 'No', Wesker. I know a pacifier would be real cute but they hurt. I got my teeth shifted from them already. They're too small anyways." Chris has already told him no!

Wesker tilts his head down, lifting his hand from his wrist to show his empty palm. A silent apology. He was just making sure. "We won't use them then. Bottles are okay but no formula. Just regular drinks is fine by me. Changes are a shared activity. Though I hope one day you can trust me to take over that for you."

Chris takes a deep breath and tilts himself back. They got it all worked out. Wesker would be a good paternal figure as he was set on discipline and fine structure. His own parents? They were fun but good parents, some days he missed them more than others. This wasn't cheating. They been dead for a long time now.

"I think you should let me get you nicotine patches." Wesker suggested. Chris laughed, low and unserious.

"I'm not a cig junkie that can't go a few hours without a hit. I'll be okay."

But this wasn't for a few hours. This was the weekend and Chris will want to have something eventually. An idea. "Let's compromise. We take breaks from this so I can go smoke."

As much as Wesker wanted to say no, he didn't want Chris to break the blooming relationship over some smokes. "We'll work it out later, then." Agreeing for now.

It was clear to see Chris was defiant, which makes sense, given his military record. That wasn't an issue, if it was, he wouldn't be sitting here with Chris at all right now. His hand will be firm like at work but different, the picking on Chris and staying on him would be relaxed. He needs to tell himself that babies don't know fear from parents until the very moment they do. And Wesker wanted Chris to feel safe with him, to show him this special head space. That will take work.

It was bath time now. In the bathroom Wesker removed Christopher's clothes slowly, each item of his uniform he tosses near the hamper. The briefs go in the trash. Chris stands there, naked in Wesker's bathroom as he runs him a bath. Pouring a bubble bath that promised no tears. Wesker suds it up with his hand until the tub looked like a cloud. Finally showing a bit of excitement, Chris stepped in place one foot at a time. Eager to jump in already.

Wesker stands straight and helps Chris into the bath, easing them both down. Kneeling by the tub, a fresh cup he dips in the water. "Tilt your head back, baby." Wesker said, holding his neck as he pours the water over his hair. "Is that alright? If I called you that?"

For a moment there Chris thought he meant the water. "I think so. The girls at the gas station call me baby as well." That makes Wesker smile. Cute. That was good, he was used to a name already.

He flinched every now and then when Wesker touched him. Not used to anyone touching him, let alone his boss in such a tender way. Brushing the baby shampoo off his forehead with a thumb, holding his face like one would ducklings cleaned after an oil spill. Closing his eyes to the feeling. Whole body washed maybe too gentle, not tugging at a single hair too much, he didn't put any pressure at all. Same with his crotch, clinical and brief. Wesker was nervous still, he didn't want to inch over invisible boundaries and ruin what progress they had made.

The water was drained. Wesker got a towel and put it over the crown of his head first, then under his arms to help lift him to his feet. Stepping out of the tub and onto the towel outside of it. Staying still as he was dried off. Baby lotion was put on next, it was clear liquid and faint of coconut. It made Chris a little greasy but his skin would be so soft when his skin soaks it up.

Walking out of the bathroom together and heading to the nursery, Wesker motioned to the bed for Chris to sit or lay on while he got clothes for him. In which Chris does. Watching Wesker break open a new bag of men's adult diapers, along with an XL shirt for him to wear. Chris is still persistent he doesn't just lay there while being dressed, he helps.

"There we are, my little one ready for a night in." There was something about how his tone changed, making it feel like a warm blanket from the dryer straight on top of Chris. He smiles. Pushing himself back on the bed to lay and wait.

Wesker left for a few minutes, coming back with a bottle of milk and a bag of animal crackers. He went to where he had the milk warmer station first, inserting the bottle into it and settling a timer for seven minutes. That should make it certain the bottle was warmed all the way through.

His steps were measured and wandering, looking around for ... something? Ah! There it was! He was looking at the little bookshelf, books bought first, second and third hand. He goes for a well loved library book. This one was from the magic tree house series. For older children yes, but it would make a good stepping stone into their bond.

Sitting up on the bed next to Chris, giving him the snack. "Try not to get crumbs too bad on the bed." He said, opening the book to read to Chris as he had something small to keep his mouth busy. He'll spend bottle feeding time thinking what he should make for dinner.

Stopping mid sentence when the milk warmer chimed it was complete. He finished the sentence and got up to stop it and get the milk. It was perfect.

They readjusted themselves, Wesker’s hands pull Chris into his shoulder, wrapping around him. Christopher was a good eater, no fuss when the nipple was rubbed on his lips. He opened and found a latch. His own hand lifted to help hold it, but Wesker murmured some little grunt and put his hand back down. "No, it's okay, Chris. Let daddy hold it for you. You're so small right now. Shhh." His words meaning to comfort.

"Yes, that's it. Good boy. You don’t have to suck it all down so fast. I'm not going anywhere... my baby." Leaning into him, embracing him as Chris relies on him for this need.

"I have a chicken pot pie in my freezer, would you like that for dinner?" He asked.

Chris didn't want to be too fussy with this. Wesker was offering him what he just thinks Chris would like and would eat. It was a kind of giving Wesker was prone to at work. He must be doing it subconsciously, the way he gives out supplies, excuses — more or less whatever the team and he asks for. He is reminded of that muttering under Brad's breath that one time, calling Wesker a Papa Bear. At the time it was a complaint. But he couldn’t be more right. Wesker had fatherly traits that he stitched hardass boss on top of.

When the milk was gone Wesker laid the bottle to the side. Arms open for Chris to crawl in, patting his back even if he didn't burp. Christopher's parents told him the same thing so long ago, how he was such a hard baby to burp. It was still soothing for it to be done now all the same.

Chapter Text

"Happy Birthday, Leon. Daddy's so proud of you." Wesker’s disembodied voice said from behind the camera. Leon, sitting in a highchair with cake all over his hands and face, tears dripping down his rounded jaw that he wipes with his arm.

Krauser was pouring over these tapes, flipping through the notebooks at the same time. Leon was behind him, asleep on the motel bed. He has just finished a tape named 'Leon's Training Zzz'. Could it be considered torture? Krauser didn't watch snuff films or partake in much interrogations but this stuff? It breaks men. And this man was in a vulnerable head space, more than anyone else who would endure what he did.

Pulling off his glasses, his cheaters he called them, to rub his eyes. Some of these tapes were long, others had the audio taken out of them. Others were short, clipped together with other ones. The times Wesker was learning about the camera in a room he never seen in the house. Maybe it never was the same house.

Turning when Leon began to wake and fuss. He was probably hungry. Setting everything down he went to the mini-fridge where he had the food he took, taking Leon's bottle and shaking it up.

"I know, coming right up. No need to throw a fit, Rookie." Krauser sat next to Leon who comes crawling to him, laying back ready to be fed. Sighing, he tilts the bottle into his mouth and nurses Leon, rocking him and patting his back. These first few days blurred together, monotonous tasks over and over again.

A few hours had passed and the front door unlocked. Wesker entered and dropped his bag down by the door. He stands there, feeling a heavy shift in the house. It felt like a large chunk of him was stolen.

He checked the rooms of the house. "Don't panic, Albert." He was telling himself, which quickly turns to "I'm going to kill him. I'll kill him and chop him up and put him in the freezer!" When his room was cleaned out and Leon was gone. Gripping both sides of his head. Wesker screamed. Lifting the lid of the bottle deep down inside him, it all bubbling out. His minutes were numbered. He's going to have to leave almost everything behind. He will take the pictures on the fridge among the other personal items he collected. No trace of him here. "When I find you, Jack... When I find you..."

Krauser was working with Leon as much as he can before Leon has enough, pushing him a bit more each time. One more step. One more sit up. One more bite. One more push. Getting Leon to the toilet went exactly how he thought. Hard but it was sticking. He'll have to condition Leon back into these habits before he does anything more with him.

"Come on, Leon. I can't send you back like this. That wouldn't be fair to you. I can't let Ashley or anyone see you like this." He was kneeling in front of Leon as he was trying to do another sit up.

"Ashley?" Leon asked, like he's never known anyone with that name before. The gears turn. He stops and just lays there, watching the ceiling fan spin as he thinks. "Ashley..."

Krauser nods. "Yeah, her. Try to think, Leon. Remember anyone else? Anything else? Police? Jungles? Island?" Trying to jump-start anything for Leon to pounce on.

Watching as Leon laid there, looking like all that was in his head was a cavern with cobwebs in it. No lights. No nothing.

Krauser sighs, giving up for now. "It's okay. Let’s just get you something to eat and then a bath."

Today he was going to be heating up the enchiladas he had taken from Wesker in the microwave. Getting them warm and a bite for himself first. It was good. Soggy from sauce and stuffed well. He didn't understand why he always fed Leon the most awful of shit when he was making this.

Blowing on it and handing the fork to Leon, helping him cut them up into better pieces to pick at. "There you go. Now into your mouth, just like we did with breakfast." He was running out of diapers, too. Having one more for tonight and it will have to be full time toilet training.

That night Krauser fell asleep with the TV on, Leon's eyes glued to it. Things he never watched before. Cooking and home improvement channels, the news, adult cartoons. Everything at home had been curated to keep him regressed that when he got a taste of what else there was he was addicted.

He flips the channel and it cuts to the middle of a horror movie, these people trapped on a ship lost at sea with the once dead crew and guests getting back up. And then he remembers that ship he was on. Jumping down onto it from helicopter, it was pouring rain. Breaking out in sweat all over his body as his mind finally woke up.

"Jack?" Leon called, patting the body next to him. "Jack? Jack!" He yelled more urgently until the snoring stopped and Krauser aroused from sleep. "Huh? What? What is it?" He murmured.

"Where the Hell am I?" Leon asked. Krauser's eyes shot open.

Getting awake and the freak out has subsided, Krauser sitting in the chair next to the phone, the receiver against his ear as he dials a familiar number.

"Well, I uhh... I have agent Kennedy here with me. Safe. Traumatized but lucid. No, I..." He glanced to Leon. "No, I don't know how long or what he's been through. I'd like to give the name and address of the one responsible for the abducted. You'll want to write this down. The name is Albert Wesker."

After being on the phone for a while, the call traced and rescue on their way. "Yes, Major Jack Krauser. I am aware of my crimes. I am also aware of this rescue. Could there be a pardon or blacklisting? Look— just consider it at least." He took a breath as to not get worked up. The call ends.

Leon was dressed in Wesker's clothes, reading through the notebook on top. His memories are unreliable but these notes shouldn't be. Filled with information about everything on Leon. His medicine, his feedings, behavior, times his diaper was changed. Coming to terms that soon more people are going to be reading these same notes and understanding the Hell he has been living.

"I feel hot with shame. Reading this I feel no closer to understanding him. I just feel worse. I feel like having another bug in body would be less intrusive than this." He remembers his past, the main events. How he got abducted he doesn't remember, nor most days in captivity. If he ever will.

"It's not your fault." Krauser told him. "Maybe there is somebody that can look at these notes and understand, give a reason. That may take a while. Maybe post-posthumously."

Knocking on the door startled them both. The fear of Wesker was deep and for good reason. But Wesker wouldn't knock. Krauser opens the door to reveal it was rescue. They were to take Leon into custody along with all the evidence. Krauser was left last to deal with. For now he was detained. Handcuffed and put in another car than Leon. He'll be questioned and in that time frame was negotiations. He wanted to think he could get a pardon or be protected. After all, there was no doubt Wesker was hunting him and extention, Leon, down.

Chapter Text

Wesker’s house was quiet, no barking dogs outside or the bass of a car going down the roads. There was the occasional honk, shouting from the street over. He never seen Wesker like this before, in a situation that was just making sure the pot pie didn't bubble over into the oven. His Captain had some more going on in his head that Chris will probably never know about. The same applied to Chris. There was just some things that stayed his.

When dinner was finished and set out to rest, he walks over to Chris to make sure he was all set. Sippy cup was still full, he was comfortable, maybe a little tired which was good. They would eat and be put in bed early tonight. Wesker would like that anyways, little ones need more sleep.

Back to dinner, he cuts it unevenly, as any good parent does and gives his baby the bigger side. Chris didn't notice and they ate together.

He had a stack of mail on the other end of his breakfast table. Depending on how the night goes Wesker may look through it after he puts Chris down or he'll get to it tomorrow. It looked like mostly junk to him anyways.

Once plates were cleared, Wesker takes them to the sink and pours water over them to 'soak' before rinsing out the bottle to put water in. "Alright, baby. Ready for bed?" Wesker asks. Chris nods, rubbing his eye as he stands. He could sleep right about now.

"Why don't you have kids, Wesker?" Chris asked as he was being tucked in. That made Wesker pause, but it didn't offend him. "I don't know." He replied. "Too busy, I suppose. It's a big responsibility, much bigger than anything that could happen between us. All your raising is done, no way I could mess you up."

Chris tilts his head. "No way. You wouldn't mess up a kid, Wesker. You're better than you give yourself credit for." Even if all he seen was a bath, fed and watered. But that's what most everybody needs everyday anyways.

"Well, you are my baby today, Chris. And I would like for you to get back to that." Wesker patted Chris's chest before standing, coming around to the other side to feed him a bottle and continue reading their book from earlier until Chris falls asleep. And Wesker, who was usually far more exhausted that today, falls right out with him.

Over the next month, their weekends were spent together to continue this bond. It was growing strong between them, despite the hours spent coughing and getting up to smoke out a window. Wesker’s half asleep hand reaching out to rub Chris's back to soothe his itching lungs. He knows if Chris isn't careful that habit will kill him, but he was still a young man. Maybe he could put patches on him for just a few hours at night. Help curb the want for more. It wasn't right, he knows... he knows.

It was Friday when he got more mail. Do these people ever quit? Junk mail about life insurance, Jehovah's Witness, Umbrella, Credit cards. Who was Jehovah? Wait.

Wesker sits down and goes back to the letter from Umbrella. He already got his check this month. His fingers trembling as he opens it to look. An overwhelming anxiety that he always manages to keep down was getting intense again. It always did when Umbrella was involved. He was being asked to execute his team, everything he's worked hard for to get, for two years, now he was being asked less and demanded of more to kill them all. It being him or them. Everyday he puts in twelve hours, keeping Raccoon City safe only for it all to change at night where he actively works on viruses and weapons that could tear through skin and muscle like ribbons. Setting the page down to rest his face in his hands.

So much has changed. The new rookie, Rebecca had just joined the team. Chris and his relationship has changed drastically as well. He didn't want to kill him. And to top it all off, tomorrow they were suppose to bond again like they have been. Chris can't know about this.

Or... could he?

Wesker slips his shades off, viewing them and the Umbrella logo on the one of the arms with one hand, his other still keeping his head up. Here he sits between two paths and for the first time in the thirty odd years of his life has he thought about disobeying old man Spencer.