Ghosts
Under the Skin (Leon x GN! Reader) - Chapter 12
You awaken in a basement, somehow still alive. As if the dreams that plagued you while you slept weren't bad enough, you swear you know the man you find yourself and Leon chained up with.
(Cross-posted from Ao3)
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The darkness took the shape it so often did these days: a house. The elm tree in the front yard was shadowed, its branches almost bare of leaves, looming between you and the house like a sentinel. Warning you not to take a step further.
As always, even if your mind begged you to obey, you found your body pressing on. Sticking to the shadows, weaving between the yellow light bled by the streetlamps, you approached not the front door, but one of the darkened windows of the house. Unlocked, just as it always was. Just as it had been, when you first came here.
Now, as then, your entire being was screaming at you to turn around. To walk away.
Instead, you pushed the window silently open and slipped inside. You had to do this, you reminded yourself. You had to. That didn’t make it any easier to ignore the stuffed animals on the floor of the room you found yourself in, staring up at you with empty, beady eyes.
You had to do this, so you reached for the door-
And then you felt someone behind you. A presence pressed against your back. The rough voice it spoke with was one that turned your blood to ice in your veins, and twisted the shrapnel that had spent years lodged in your heart. The same one that called you a coward almost every night when you closed your eyes.
“Of course it would be you.”
You turned, expecting to be met with cold-steel eyes and a scarred face.
Instead, the eyes that looked down at you now glowed silver under the shroud of a hood. You didn’t know the man looming over you, but you couldn’t look away. Even as he reached a hand out towards you, taking hold of your chin and making your skin crawl all in one motion. The voice he spoke with was not the one you’d just heard - not the one you’d known from all those years ago.
“Ah, sweet child. Welcome.”
You had to get away from him. Had to run. Had to wake up-
You sucked in a breath, filling your lungs with the air of the real world. Alive. You were still alive, and with that first breath came pain in your wrists and shoulders, the familiar bite of metal chasing away what sleep tried to cling to you. Your joints protested, bound as they were above your head, the wound on your arm throbbed, and your whole body went rigid as only the toes of your boots brushed the ground.
Captured. Not killed. The dream that had forced you awake was just that - a dream. However unfamiliar the ending of it had been.
And the voice that greeted you only a moment after your eyes opened? It was only slightly more familiar.
“¡Ah, buenos días! Or . . . buenos tardes . . . hard to tell down here, eh?”
Your gaze snapped to your left, and there, amidst a cluttered room, sat the very man you and Leon had discovered under the cabin. His hands were shackled, resting in his lap, his eyes fixed on you. But your eyes? They focused not on the stranger looking at you, but the man behind him.
Even facing away from you, even having been stripped of his bomber jacket, you felt something like relief as you recognized Leon sitting back to back against this stranger.
“Don’t worry about your friend,” the man he was chained to insisted. “He’s still out cold, but he’s alive. Though, it doesn’t sound like restful sleep.”
As if to prove the stranger’s point, Leon shifted in what you had to assume was sleep, his bowed head jerking momentarily before he stilled once more. You held tight to that little piece of relief, even if his circumstances weren’t much better than your own. His hands were shackled above him, bound to the same chain that the man in front of you was tied to.
A man who, now that you saw him under proper lighting, now that you weren’t so worried for Leon . . .
Where had you seen him before?
“Who are you?” The words were more of a demand than anything else. You were sure your authority was undercut by the fact that you were dangling from the ceiling, but that wouldn’t stop you from wielding it.
And, too disoriented from your dream and the violence that brought it upon you, you didn’t bother to mute your expression, either. So, you weren’t surprised when the stranger shifted under the weight of your glare, even if he covered it with a smile. “You can call me Luis Serra.”
Luis Serra.
Luis Serra.
Fuck, you knew him, somehow. His face and name had crossed your desk some time in the last five years. And when someone’s name crossed your desk, it usually wasn’t because you were being sent to them for a friendly chat. So if you knew this man . . .
“And what can I call you?” He asked as your head pounded, as your focus was caught between Luis and his past and Leon and trying to figure out how the hell you were getting out of here. When you looked at more than just your partner and the man he was chained to, you found the key to your escape behind you - a wheeled surgical cart, one you could just barely reach with your leg. And with your chain bolted to one of the support beams of the ceiling, reaching it to examine what you were up against suddenly became a much easier feat.
Beyond that, you could multitask.
There was little harm this man could do to you with a name, so you gave it to him after a moment’s hesitation.
When he smiled at the sound, all charm, you figured it was safe to assume that he didn’t know your name like you knew his. “I’d say it’s a pleasure to meet you, but, given the circumstances-”
“What do they want with you?” you demanded as you twisted your body mid-air, reaching a leg out to hook your boot under the surface of the cart. Luis shrugged as you dragged it forward. It made more noise than you would have liked, especially with the bowl full of surgical scissors on top rattling, but still. Better than waiting for the towering man who’d captured you to come back.
Be not afraid. His words rang in your head. He hadn’t meant to kill either of you, and he’d been keeping Luis alive in that basement for a reason. As to what that reason was?
“Your guess is as good as mine.”
“They killed the other people we came here with,” your voice was strained as you pulled the metal cart your way, then stepped up on top of it. The wheels of the thing made it precarious to balance on, so you put most of your weight on the chain that held you until you were safely up. “Why’d they keep you alive?”
“My devilish good looks?” Luis offered, and you sent a glare his way. When he continued, his tone was almost as guarded as yours. “But in all seriousness, I don’t know. Guess we all got lucky, eh?” He glanced over his shoulder at the still-unconscious Leon.
You didn’t believe him. How could you, when you were so sure that you’d held his dossier before. You, who’d been sent to hunt down arms dealers, smugglers, doctors and anyone in between, so long as they were united by one common thread: bioweapons. So here was a man, one you were certain you recognized for that reason, chained in the middle of a town infected with something.
“So you don’t know anything about what happened to the people here?” You asked, pausing your efforts for just a moment to watch Luis’ expression.
He was good at hiding it, you’d give him that, but you’d been trained to read people. So, when you saw the way his eyes flashed, the way his lips tightened for just a moment before shaking your head, you had the answer you needed. Even if his words said otherwise. “Not a clue.” He all but proved you right when his eyes glanced towards the chain that held you in place. “That doesn’t look too comfortable,” he observed, deftly changing the subject. “Think you can get out?”
You didn’t answer. Instead, you examined the shackles around your wrists. They were locked with a key, you could see that much, one that shouldn’t be too much trouble for you to pick . . . but you were unsurprised when you looked down and found most of your gear gone. Your harness was still strapped to your body, but your knives, your gun, all of it was gone.
So, your attention turned instead to the chain. The bolt holding it in place wasn’t budging, even with all your weight on it. But maybe with enough force-
The sound of a third voice, taking the shape of a forever-recognizable gasp, made you turn. Leon breathed heavily as he jolted awake, his shoulders rising and falling as his head snapped up. You recognized the body language, the labored breathing. After all, for as long as you’d known each other, you’d both suffered from bad dreams. Before, his eyes would find yours through the darkness of the barracks. You’d send him a small but soft smile . . .
Now, Leon just looked up at the chains that held his hands over his head. “Oh, what the fuck-”
He tugged his arms down, and Luis’ were wrenched upwards. “Hey, stop it!”
Luis’ voice made Leon turn his head - the wrong way at first, of course, so he didn’t see you.
Then when the very Spaniard in question addressed you, Leon’s head was whipping around the other direction. “See?” Luis grinned, though it was a strained thing. “I told you that your friend was alright.” And you were sorely grateful for that, even if you wished that you hadn’t seen Leon’s eyes brighten with relief when he took you in. “You alright?” was Leon’s first question, shot right over Luis’ head.
You just nodded. “You?”
“Fine. Can you get free?”
The cart you were balanced on rattled a little as you tugged at the chain. “Working on it.”
“Your partner is very resourceful, I can say that much,” Luis added as Leon got to his feet. “What about you, Yanqui? You got a name?”
As he rose, Leon looked to you, a silent exchange of a single question: do we trust this guy?
Your answer, given in a stone-faced expression, was simple: hell no.
After a moment of understanding, he gave only his first name. “Leon.”
Now at his feet, Luis glanced between the two of you, his voice more measured now. “Quiet type, eh? Well, I’m Luis Serra, as I was saying to your friend.” Leon didn’t respond, instead looking over his own shackles - appearing to be the same kind as the ones you were in, and then turning his focus around the room. “Guess we all picked the wrong spot to vacation, eh?”
Right. Vacation. You doubted that was why he was here with every bone in your body. All the more reason you had to free yourself. You might have been able to pick your shackles lock with the surgical scissors on the cart, if you could reach them. As it was, the bolt of your chain didn’t seem to want to budge.
Meanwhile, Leon moved to the opposite side of the room, and Luis was practically pulled along with him. “Hey, stop it!” he protested, and your eyes caught exactly where Leon’s own did - the pulley that their chain was suspended on. “You move, I move, and I’m beat up enough as it is.”
Leon didn’t listen much, instead giving his own chain an experimental pull. It was just enough that you could see the four nails holding the pulley in place beginning to give way.
Luis proved then that, despite the lack of response he was getting, he had no intention of shutting up. Even as he moved to help. “I can see your thinking. Bet you two have been in spots like this before, hm?” He took better hold of his side of the chain, just as Leon pulled his over his shoulder to get more leverage.
Your eyes caught on the strength of his arms, even as your mind was still caught on the question of the other man in the room. “You seem pretty calm yourself,” you observed, making Luis turn back towards you.
“Ah, well, I do better with company. Safety in numbers and all that.”
“You say that,” you went on, pausing your own efforts for a moment, “but you don’t know what we’re here for.” It wasn’t quite a threat, but you hadn’t exactly pulled the punch of those words, either. And as soon as they landed, Leon stilled too for a moment, listening as the two of you spoke.
For Luis’ part, he tried to laugh it off - and was more successful than many would have been. Even so, you could catch the way worry salted that laughter. “Ah, well, if you’re trying to say you came out here looking for me, I’m flattered, but my guess is that you’re here for someone else.” When you narrowed your eyes, his smile widened. “Ah, one more guess. Maybe . . . some missing señorita?”
Immediately, Leon turned, his brow knitted tight. “A young girl?” You expected him to question Luis. Maybe to step closer and seek the answers he needed. The Leon you knew all those years ago would have used a gentler hand than you would have.
Instead, you found yourself more than a little surprised as the man you thought you knew pulled the chain at his wrists hard, nearly forcing Luis off his feet. Leon dragged the other man closer, until Luis himself was nearly dangling off the ground as you had been, his arms kept above his head. And Leon? He stood directly before him, eyes sharp enough that Luis dare not look away. When he spoke, it was with a tone you’d heard a hundred times in the last five years because it had come from your own lips.
“Talk. Now.”
That was all the incentive needed, it seemed. “All right. See, heard chatter about moving a señorita.”
Another lead. One that, with luck, meant the First Daughter was alive. “Moving her,” Leon looked over at you, then back at the man he’d made a captive twice over. He studied Luis for only a moment longer, then let the tension in the chain drop. “Where?”
Back fully on his feet, Luis had more tension about him now as he answered. “Who knows? But later, I saw some men dragging someone to the old church.”
Then that would be your next point of investigation, then. Just as soon as you were free of this place. Which, with the combined effort of Leon and Luis pulling their restraints down from the ceiling, looked to be on the horizon. The tension being released sent Luis crashing to the floor, still tied to Leon but much more free than you were, now. Even if the fall made him mutter a curse.
Of course, with the clanging of chains and the sounds of your voices, you supposed you shouldn’t have been surprised when you heard voices from the entry behind you.
You were about to have company, all while your hands were bound and you were balancing on a wheeled cart. Add it to the list of bullshit for the day, you supposed. “Leon-”
“Maybe you were right. Hanging with you two? Not healthy-” Luis grumbled, pushing himself up just in time for your latest friends to arrive. Just in time for you to have to dance to the side, just in time for an axe to swing by where your leg had been. The cart nearly tipped over as you moved, and you bared your teeth with the effort of keeping it balanced - of giving yourself a surface to push off of for as long as you could have it. The man holding the axe meant for you staggered forward, and Leon pulled his chain again, once more making a ragdoll on a string of Luis. Even if the motion saved the man’s head from being chopped off.
When the second attacker came in, though, there was no one to save you but yourself. No, your focus shifted entirely to the knife coming your way. Short weapon, short reach. Your kick was faster - and had longer reach. Enough to crash square into the man’s chest, creating some distance.
You glanced back just in time to see Leon and Luis whip their chain forward, snapping the metal right into the head of their attacker. You couldn’t afford much more, though, as your own man came forward again and for the second time that day, you were fighting while suspended in the air.
And you were well and truly fucking done with it.
You had more mobility in these chains than the trap you’d been caught in, though. And even if you didn’t have the gun you’d had then, training and frustration were enough. So, you gathered more of the chain you were hanging from, and when the second attack came, you were ready. Another kick - this one arcing from side to side - sent the man crashing into the wall closest to you. When his knife clattered out of his hand, you moved.
You lifted yourself forward, kicking a little off the cart for the extra momentum. Just as the villager pushed himself off the wall, your legs were over his shoulders. One calf wedged itself beneath his chin, pressing hard against his windpipe. The other, you used to hook that chokehold in place, squeezing with all the pressure you could manage.
The man beneath you fought against his death, his breath choked. You could see his red eyes looking up at you as he tried to slip free, but you held firm. Nails dug into the fabric of your pant legs, the cart and its contents clattered to the ground as it was knocked over in the struggle, and you nearly lost your hold on the chain above you as your assailant staggered.
But still, with a snarl of effort, you held on.
The new angle you found yourself in let you see the other half of the fight. The first attacker, the one with the axe, now was strung between Leon and Luis, the chain looped around his neck. He swung his weapon desperately, but it was all for nothing when Leon turned bringing a leg up over the chain . . .
Then, looping it under his knee, Leon put all his weight down. Even over the choking sounds of the man in your hold, the sound of his comrade’s neck snapping filled the room, clear and final.
Skilled. Brutal. More ruthless than you’d been prepared to see from Leon. More than enough to remind you of his own words; you’d had the same training. Faced much of the same horrors. And for the first time since you came to Spain, you were forced to accept just how capable Leon was.
How dangerous you both really were. But then, caged dogs always bite hardest, don't they?
The villager’s body went limp, then collapsed to the floor - Luis alongside him. Leon, though, was back up in a moment, only to go still as you hoisted yourself up higher. Your arms all but screamed in protest, but you managed to hold firm, taking your victim completely off the ground, his neck crushed between your legs. The added weight of his body acting against him and the pressure of your hold? It wasn’t long before you felt his vertebrae crack as well.
And Leon just . . . stared as you lowered yourself, then let the man drop to the floor.
It was only a moment - one where you barely had time to breathe from the exertion you’d just gone through - before you registered Luis reaching for something. There was the clinking of shackles, the jangling of chains falling, and then Luis Serra was backing away from you both, a little key in his now-free hands.
And even with all you’d just done, your chains remained securely in place.
“You’ll stop and unlock us if you don’t want to make things worse for yourself.” The warning didn’t have the bite you wanted it to. Not when Luis held all the power, now. Not when he just shrugged.
“No hard feelings. Scary as you are, I’ll take my chances.”
Your eyes went wide as you realized you were about to lose a potential quarry; that someone who might well be behind all of this was about to get away. And you could do almost jack shit to stop him.
“Hey, we’re not done here!” Leon rushed forward, only to be stopped by the body he’d effectively just anchored himself to. Even you tried to swing a leg out at the man to stop him, but he dodged right past. With nothing to kick off of, you were stuck.
And Luis was practically out the door as he gave you both a wink. “Later, amigos.”
With that, he was gone. The fact that he tossed the key past you and onto the floor was the only reason you might let him live, the next time you met. Might.
“Fuck,” you hissed, frustration poisoning you as you swung there, boots scraping the ground once again. Just when you thought this mission couldn’t get any worse, it found new and inventive ways to prove you wrong. And now you were dangling from a chain once again, with a potentially dangerous man loose, and you were no closer to completing your mission.
Though, hopefully, with any luck, you were closer to being out of here, at least.
Leon shook his head as he went for the key so mercifully thrown to you both, grumbling as he went. “Hang on.”
Not that you could do much else.
You were just glad that the key worked - that Leon was free but a moment later. He made his way over to you, then, reaching out to steady you. He couldn’t have been thinking too much about the how, because as soon as his hand landed on your hip, warm and steady, his eyes snapped up to yours. He’d stopped your momentum, but he just as quickly pulled his hand away. “Sorry,” he muttered, but what came next all but voided that apology before you could figure out how to feel about it.
You stared at nothing in particular as Leon reached up with the key, his body close enough you could feel the warmth radiating off of him. He’d always been warm, though. Just another thing you wished you didn’t remember as well as you did. Just another thing that was hard to forget with him being so close.
Fuck this mission, was all you could think. At least fate had the decency to let the key work on your shackles too.
Even if, when you were free, when you landed fully on your feet, Leon held out his other hand to steady you.
That too, though, he quickly pulled away, like he would be burned if his touch lingered for too long. Just as well. You had places to be. Still, you muttered a “Thanks,” to Leon as he stepped away.
He nodded in return. “Any time. Guessing they took all your gear too?” he asked, eyes sweeping you for anything they might have missed.
No such luck, it seemed. “Yeah. But they left us enough to make do.” With that, you reached down and took up the knife from your fallen enemy. It was, frankly, a piece of shit; more meant for the kitchen than anything else. Still, if it was sharp, you could use it as much as Leon could. “Here,” you spun it, offering it to Leon hilt-first.
Only for him to shake his head, going instead for the hatchet of the man he’d killed. “Think I’ll switch it up.”
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