Wild Tiger Chase - Chapter 35: Chapter 35

— Léon —
It was colder in the forest now than in the winters he had roamed through New Continent. His fingers were hard and numb, his nose was running, and his teeth were chattering, cutting the puffs of white, condensed breath that escaped his lips.
Nobody had ever told him the forests around Aíbetama could be this frigid.
Léon stretched his hands, but the small fire did nothing to warm them. The few dry branches Léon had thrown on it already looked like coal when Phillip tapped his shoulder. Léon rubbed his eyes and raised his head. Phillip's face was sweaty and pale; his dagger-made, deep cleavage showed black tendrils spreading over his chest.
"Hey," Phillip said. Hoarse voice, cracked lips, sad eyes. He looked like a mess.
"Hey," Léon answered. He probably wasn't looking much better. He let his knees go and held Phillip's arm to help him sit down.
Once on the frigid floor, Phillip let out a long, tired breath followed by a string of coughing. Léon had bandaged the cuts in his arms with shreds of his own shirt; now that he looked at it, perhaps he had exaggerated a little bit.
Or perhaps he was trying to hide and forget the sickness's dark tendrils. He looked at Phillip's cleavage once more, and the darkness seemed to throb.
Well, Léon had failed.
"My face is up here." Phillip smirked. "Don't treat me like a piece of meat, Dickens. I know I'm hot, but show some self-control."
Léon offered him a half-hearted scoff and rested against the tree at his back. If things weren't so deep in shit, maybe he would even have laughed a little.
After a heartbeat, Phillip's voice came back, lower and softer this time.
"You... okay?"
Fidgeting with the hem of his t-shirt, Léon avoided his gaze. He didn't want to answer that question; he didn't want to think about it. More than that, he shouldn't be the one Phillip should ask this to. Léon adored Anhangá, sure, but Rob had lived most of his life with him. Léon couldn't imagine how sharp his pain was.
"Yep. How are you, Phil?" Léon rubbed his hands together, trying to warm them.
"Me?" Phillip sighed and angled around the tree to rest beside Léon. "I'm fucking itchy. I can't wait to take this shit off." Phillip pulled and released the spandex of his scuba suit; it came back with a sharp slap that made him groan. "My balls are being squashed in here."
Léon smiled this time. "You're a dork."
"Yeah." Phillip bit down his lower lip to stop the smile tugging at his lips. "And you're evading my question, Dickens."
"Stop calling me Dickens."
"Then answer me. Are you okay?"
Léon's eyelids fluttered; he looked at his shoes again. His voice was small when he said, "Yeah, of course I am. What do you mean?"
Phillip let out a frustrated huff. "You know what I mean." He raised a hand and gestured around them.
Pipo snored softly at Léon's side, sharing Rafa's jacket with her like a blanket while Rafa slept curled like a cub—her wounds bandaged in a similar way to Phillip's. A couple of meters away from them, under the guise of keeping watch, Rob sat in a darker part of their camp, half-hidden by the forest and clutching at his short hair as if he had more things to worry about than the freezing cold setting around them.
Léon licked his cracked lips, trying to moisturize the dry edges of broken skin.
Until today morning, everything was more or less fine. Yes, Cae was still following them, and they were still a long way from civilization, but at least they were together. They had finally found a way to bring Pipo back to his normal self, Phillip was alive, Rob was back, and even Rafa and Anhangá were there. He had met a new friend, Caidara, and besides all that, Modraniht would finally go home to his wife, safe and sound.
Now, though, from a moment to another, almost half of their group had been scythed. Even Anhangá, Rob's Guardian—or whatever the hell they had become in these past four years—had stayed behind in a very dramatic gesture of self-sacrifice or something.
But not before saying I love you to Léon's boyfriend.
Who the fuck does that?
Léon pulled his knees up again and rested his chin on them, biting hard on his lower lip. He tried to tell himself friends also say I love you to each other—and Rob and Anhangá met forever ago, which meant they were probably even closer than Rob and Léon, but...
Shit! It was hard to ignore that annoying feeling nagging on his mind.
And what was with Rob's reaction to Cae having Toni's pistol, anyway? It was a shitty weapon, Roberto, not a precious, solid gold bust of Beyoncé. And he couldn't really forget all the drama about his powers and his family and the danger they were in and holy fuck, he was smelly!
Goddess, he was sick of it all.
His breathing quickened; his cheeks warmed up. Léon couldn't remember the last time he had felt this bothered by so many things. No. It couldn't be jealousy. Léon Dickens wasn't jealous. He had never been and he wouldn't start now.
"So?" Phillip said.
Léon looked up to meet ocean green eyes.
And then there was Phillip. Always-improving Phillip, becoming-a-decent-man Phillip, always-wanting-to-help-you Phillip, the person who now danced over the line of friendship and nostalgia while falling into the decrepit arms of a mortal disease.
"How are—"
"Shit, Phillip. Everything's shit. Deep, covered, drowned in shit!" Léon furrowed his brows and sighed a trembly sigh. At their side, one of Pipo's clown fishes opened an eye and set it on Léon, maybe bothered by his outburst. "Sorry," Léon whispered.
Phillip stretched a hand covered with black veins and bandages. He stopped before placing it atop Léon's and pulled his arm back.
"We'll get over all of this, Leo." Phillip gave a weird pat on his shoulder. "You'll see."
Léon ran a hand through his hair. It was dry and dirty again, and that reminded him of how far away from home he was. Of how much he missed his stuff, his friends, his family. "Yeah. Maybe. If we wish hard enough."
If Mary and Satina were here, things would be different.
"What?" Phillip sneered. A crease formed between his eyebrows, and this time he looked almost angry. "C'mon, partner. You've never been this pessimistic." He raised his hands, palms up. "It's not cause everything's going to hell that you have to give up!" His smile widened and his eyes lost focus. Considering how red his cheeks were, his fever would soon be back and, with it, his hallucinations. "Go with the flow, Leo. We have coins for days, and if the ferry comes, I'll pay your fee."
If, of course, Phillip wasn't already hallucinating.
"... Yeah, you need to sleep, Phil," Léon said in a tired voice. He got up and patted his jeans clean. Once he pivoted around, he found Phillip with his eyes already closed, his chest going up and down in a soft rhythm.
Léon smiled. Phillip must've been exhausted, like everyone else.
Which meant Léon was alone now.
There was a weird stillness to the forest around them; a dense silence that felt like it would pop if Léon's movements were sharp enough. He joined his hands in front of his body and fidgeted with his dirty nails, and then he stepped forward, not really sure where to go. It was already dark—maybe two or three in the morning—and cold mounted on his uncovered arms, so Léon decided to gather a few more branches to keep the campfire going.
With measured steps, he rounded Rafa's feet and stalked to the trees behind her.
Crunch. He stopped. Dry leaves. Léon lifted his feet from the crushed shards of brown and looked around, hoping he hadn't been heard.
His gaze met Rob's.
"I'm... gonna look for wood." Léon jerked a thumb towards the fire. "I'm cold."
Rob nodded. His face seemed swollen and red, with dark eye circles and dried blood here and there. "Suit yourself. Remember we can't let the fire burn too bright. Phillip said—"
"I know. His shadows won't hide us if the light inside is too bright." Léon turned around and grimaced. Shit. He didn't want to snap at Rob like that, mainly after what had just happened to Anhangá, but his feelings were all over the place; it was hard to control them. Léon dug his fingernails into his palm with enough force to leave painful half-moon marks on his flesh. "Be right back."
"We still have some wood here, Leo." Rob let out a sigh. Considering how muffled his voice sounded, he had lowered his head again. "But if you want some time for yourself... If you want some time... I'll understand."
Léon froze. What exactly was Rob talking about? When Léon's muscles obeyed his commands again, he turned around and found the small pile of twigs beside the fire. Half-hidden by shadows, Rob sat with his face in his arms.
A droplet of rain plummeted to the earth in front of him, followed by other two.
"Some time?" Léon echoed. His voice was less cautious than Rob's; it was a tad harder, too. A crease formed between Léon's eyebrows, and he took a handful of wood from the pile. As he fed the fire, a raindrop patted his shoulder. The warmth from the fire was almost enough to melt the freezing fog in the forest.
Rob raised his head but didn't look at Léon; instead, his eyes set firmly on the tip of his feet. "I've done some thinking, Leo."
The wood crackled in the fire.
Phillip snored.
"Some thinking? About what?"
Rob shuffled his feet. He took a moment to say, "Us."
That little word made something cold and heavy swirl inside Léon's stomach. Of course Rob would want to break up. Who wouldn't? Léon was a mess. He had been a mess since these fucking powers started to develop.
Shit.
Well, guess what? That was Rob's fault.
Another raindrop fell on his shoulder. It would start raining soon.
"Hum." Léon raised to his feet. "And?" He slipped a hand into his pocket; inside it, he found the amethyst Rob had given him—the same one that had unlocked the anima weld between Léon and Rafa. It felt colder than usual; the crack in the middle of the gem was almost like a bad omen.
Rob cleared his throat. There was a thin layer of regret on his face, Léon knew it well. Rob was the type of person to say things on a whim only to regret them moments later. Léon could almost taste the remorse in the way Rob's strong shoulders sunk.
He took in a deep breath and opened his lips. Before he could utter his first word, lightning flashed across the sky. A peel of thunder spread shivers on Léon's arms, and the sound still rolled throughout the forest when the rain started.
"That timing," Rob growled.
It was a cold, heavy, impetuous rain that awoke everyone in the small camp. Rafa's eyes rested on Léon and Rob for only a moment before she scooped Pipo in her arms, covering him with her jacket. Amidst Pipo's giggles and squeals, she and Phillip raced further into the forest to find shelter under a big Paubrasilia tree.
Léon looked around; the small clearing they were in didn't have many places to hide from the storm. Should he follow Rafa? Should he stay in the rain?
"Here, Leo." Rob held his wrist and guided him to a tree trunk a few steps away.
The fallen wooden corpse seemed centuries-old; once dead, it was now covered by mushrooms and grass, and it formed something that looked like a half-destroyed greek temple swallowed by nature. Two asymmetric rocks functioned as columns. The thick trunk of the rubber tree would be their roof tonight.
A yellow beetle scurried away from one hole in the tree trunk to another. Léon didn't want to imagine how many insects hid in that thing.
Rob closed his eyes and sighed. He lowered his head and made himself comfortable, sitting on the tall grass and resting his back against one of the columns of their impromptu temple.
Looking outside, Léon knew the rain wouldn't stop so soon. He furrowed his brows. "Yes. Thank you. Things aren't shitty enough; I need to get my socks wet too!" he shouted at the sky. A clap of thunder was his only answer.
Instead of admonishing him, Rob smiled. "Would you like to sit down?"
Another insect ran by; a spider this time.
"Not really." Léon rubbed his arms and sighed. There wasn't enough space to stand up, but he'd rather deal with muscle pains in the morning than get his jeans dirty with wet earth. Well. Dirtier.
Rob scoffed a smile and crossed his legs. "Come here." He patted his thigh.
The tips of Léon's ears warmed up; his chest tightened. He started towards Rob but paused. "You said you were thinking about us."
He nodded.
"What about us?" Léon rubbed his arms again. It was even colder now, with the rain.
"I'll tell you. But come here first; you're freezing."
"No." The words escaped Léon's lips before he could think about them. "Don't expect me to sit on your lap and fucking smile while you break up with me."
The spell of silence was filled only by the storm. Then, Rob made a sound—a muffled chortle.
Was he trying to hold back... a laugh?
"W-what's so funny?" Léon asked in a small voice. A brown snakefly the size of a golf ball fell on Léon's shoulder. He locked a yelp in his throat and slapped it away, but he lost his footing with the sudden movement and stumbled a step forward, finding support on Rob's outstretched hands.
"Look at me, Leo."
He did. Rob was covered in dry blood, bruises, and old scars. Like Léon, he didn't look too well.
"Do you really think I'd break up with you out of nowhere, Tiger? After simping for you for... what? Twenty years?" Sadness marred his smile. "But if you want to break up—"
"No." Léon's chest warmed up and his eyes stung. He stared at Rob's fingers; they were thick, stubby fingers, with short and manicured nails that, four years ago, he would often let Pipo paint in whatever colors he wanted.
He touched Rob's palm. Dry and rough skin, covered in calluses and small scars that made him shiver with familiarity. Firm hands, big hands, loving hands. He intertwined their fingers. Warm hands, too.
Without a word, Léon leaned closer and crouched to let Rob embrace him. He sat on his lap and rested against his strong chest, resting the back of his head on the curve of Rob's neck. Léon shivered despite the new warmth around him; two muscular arms wrapped him tight, close and protected.
Rob kissed his cheek, and Léon swallowed again. Don't cry. His Bear was big and strong, but gentle—so very gentle—in all his movements and in the way he always caressed his cheek and his heart with words that he doubted were ever said before, with so much love, by any other human alive...
Léon loved him so much.
"Feeling better now?" Rob breathed in against the side of his head and placed a gentle kiss on his shoulder.
Léon sniffed and cleared his throat.
"Yeah, I... if you're not breaking up with me"—Léon stopped talking as Rob chuckled; the idea must've sounded pretty absurd to him. Léon smiled. When Rob calmed down, he continued, "Then what did you want to talk to me about?"
This time, Rob sighed.
"I'll be plain, Leo." He caressed Léon's arm; his touch was careful as he turned Léon around to look him in the eyes. One of those big hands rested on his thigh, a thumb going up and down. "I want you to open up to me, Tiger. And I want to open up to you too. I..." He trailed off. "I want to be here for you."
"Do you want to talk about Anhangá?"
Rob lowered his eyes and clicked his tongue. In his silence, he plucked wet blades of grass and tossed them aside. His cheeks darkened. "I'm sure An will be okay. He's more powerful than any of us can imagine, and I'm sure he'll be back soon. I suppose he knows what he's doing."
"You suppose?" Léon draped a hand over Rob's.
Something hit the ground outside; a fallen branch of a tree, perhaps. The storm intensified.
"I hope. No, I trust he knows what he's doing," Rob corrected. He took off his jacket and wrapped it around Léon. Thunder rumbled overhead. "And before An left, he... he showed me something, Léon." He opened and closed his lips. Rob raised a hand and pulled a small critter from Léon's hair, gently placing it on the hanging leaves above.
And Rob told him. He talked about how the cosmic trace was never completely gone from his tattoos and about how dangerous it was when the latent powers were awakened by his anger. He told Léon about how his tattoos had turned red while he argued with Anhangá, and what had happened to the forest when he was done. The sickness, he thought, might be the result of someone stealing the forest's Life Force again, like what had happened in Aíbetama, when Léon lost control.
Except this time, the sickness was spreading, which meant whoever had done that was still on the job. They were killing thousands of square kilometers of forest—and dozens of people—at the same time.
Finally, after a hesitance he wasn't used to, Rob told Léon the same could happen to him. Léon could become what Toni was when he was alive, stealing Life Force from those around him to feed his own thirst for cosmic power, wanting or not. It was not only a matter of self-control, it was a matter of a balance that should never be broken.
When Rob was done, Léon's eyelids fluttered closed. This was the type of responsibility Léon didn't want to deal with.
He shifted on Rob's lap and hid his face on the crook of his neck. The rain was stopping, but Léon still wanted every bit of warmth his man could give him.
"For that reason, Tiger... well, for that and other reasons, I..." Rob caressed his short hair. "I'm here for you. I'll do whatever I can to help you. And if you feel comfortable talking to me, I promise I'll listen." They shared a moment of silence. Then, Rob spoke again. "I know I hurt you, Leo. I'll be by your side and I'll wait however long you need to forgive me, all right?"
Léon's eyebrows scrunched up. He tried to say thank you but only managed to nod instead.
"Tiger?"
Léon blinked the blur away and looked up. Rob had a sweet smile on his lips and a thin coating of joy in his voice when he said,
"I'm here for you. Always will be."