Archive of Our Own ^beta

Leon has never been a fan of being unable to move. In his line of work, a second can be the difference between life and death, and reactions have to be made in split seconds. Being unable to move means something is going on. He’s in danger, somehow. It’s uncomfortably common for Leon to be in danger, but he normally knew when he was going to be there. He didn’t know where he was now.

It was some sort of old shack. The walls were rundown wood, and most if not all of the windows he could see were broken. Leon was kneeling on the ground in the middle of the shack, two chains pulling his arms taut. Leon has dealt with that kind of restraint before. He’s learned how to escape most locks and chains, and (if he really has to) he’s learned how to dislocate his thumbs in order to wiggle his way out. But all that requires movement. And Leon can’t move. Everything is refusing his order to move. He can only blink and look around the room, begging someone, anyone, to happen upon the desolate little hut and find him. 

His memory of this situation is…fuzzy, at best. Chris had invited him to hang out with a few people from the BSAA, to watch them do…something, and offer critiques. Chris had stepped out of a room for just a few seconds, and then everything went black. And now Leon was here, trapped and unable to move and so alone. He wanted out. He needed help.

Leon isn’t really sure about anything, other than this isn’t safe or normal. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been gone, he didn’t have any idea how they got him here, where he was, how they were keeping him immobilized. His head is buzzing uncomfortably, somewhere between a wad of cotton shoved between his ears and a couple of bees shaken up in a jar. 

He isn’t sure exactly when it happens, but voices eventually start whispering around the edges of the building. He can hear them, just far enough away he can’t make out what they’re saying but close enough he knows they’re there. There’s quite a few of them, and Leon can hear the russel of a few guns amongst the crowd. There’s one of two situations this could be: either his captors, coming to do something with him, or a team there to rescue him. He really, really hopes it’s the second and not the first. 

There’s a cracking sound behind him, most likely a door being kicked in, before several bodies fill the area. Leon can’t see much, little more than the floor and some of the walls, but he finds a lot of combat boots filling the area. There’s not much to sweep, with a small room and more people in there than necessary, but he appreciates the sentiment. They’re all very careful with the chains around his wrists, stepping over them instead of yanking Leon around. He really didn’t feel like being throttled around.

An even more familiar pair of combat boots stop right in front of him, the owner kneeling down and pressing two fingers to Leon’s neck. Chris never fails to be a comforting sight, even if Leon can only see his legs and the arm checking for any sign of life in him. There’s a lot of voices now, too many for Leon to keep up with, but Chris he hears clearly.

The man sighs, pulling his fingers away from Leon’s neck. “He’s alive. Let’s get these things out of him and get him to a safe place.”

Things? In him? There are currently things in Leon’s body that he can’t feel, probably what’s keeping him immobile. 

“Not so fast, Captain. We can’t just go ripping those out. We’ve got to go slowly, one by one. Otherwise, you’ll do irreparable damage.” There another clear voice, a woman by the sound of it. Leon doesn’t recognize it. 

“And you know that how?”

“My uncle was an acupuncturist. Grew up around his shop a lot. Half of these needles are immobilizing him, the other half are numbing him. If you don’t do it right, he’s going to be in a lot of pain. Just because he’s still doesn’t mean he’s unconscious.”

“How fast can you do it?”

“With minimal discomfort to him? Not sure. At least half an hour.”

“Get started, then. I need everyone out. Form a perimeter around the building. If any movement is spotted, radio it in.” And there’s Chris, immediately taking a shitty situation and making it somewhat better. The boots are quick to leave the shack, besides Chris who is still kneeling and another pair standing at Leon’s side.

“How much can we move him?” Chris asked, a hand coming up to gently cradle Leon’s check. 

“At this stage, not at all. I need to work around the neck first. That’s what’s keeping him from talking. Keep his head as still as you can. Acupuncture needles themselves don’t hurt, but I don’t think they were very gentle with him.”

There’s dull pressure on Leon’s neck as the BSAA/acupuncturist's relative goes about pulling out the needles, which clink on the floor as they’re dropped. He slowly becomes more aware of his own body, how the back of his neck is drenched in sweat and the room is actually unpleasantly warm. Both currently un-incapacitated soldiers are surprisingly gentle with him, something Leon is ashamed to say he’s not very used to, especially as dull sparks of pain become apparent to him. He hurts . That wasn’t right. He wasn’t hurting before this happened. At least, not any more than his normal level. 

The woman pulls a needle out of his neck, and Leon can’t help but hiss as it leaves his skin. He’s never been a fan of acupuncture, especially with so many little needles in his skin, but now he’s certain he’ll never do it. 

“There we go. We’re getting somewhere now.” The woman murmurs softly, gently rubbing the place she’d just taken the needle out.

“This sucks.” Leon manages to rasp out, just happy that he finally has his voice back.

“I know. But you’re doing good already. You’re going to get more of your body back as we go, but I need you to try to be still.”

“Kinda figured that’s what the chains were for.”

Chris huffed out a laugh. “Good to see you’ve still got your sense of humor.”

“I know, I know. Class Clown of the year right here. Someone hit Ripley’s up, I’ll give them a situation they’ve never seen before. Man completely immobilized by a few tiny needles.”

“I think you need to fix your title. You have a lot more than just a ‘few’ tiny needles. Try a little bit closer to a hundred.”

“You guys know that movie that came out recently, Kung Fu Panda?” Leon’s rambling, and he knows it. 

“Yeah. Sherry made me sit down and watch it with her once. Why?”

“I feel like the villain. Tai Lung, when he was in that prison. I have to say, that punishment was way too harsh. Because he was angry, he gets locked up without being able to move for years? Just awake in his own body? No wonder he was so pissed off when he got out. I’d be pissed off too.”

Leon rambles on and on, about useless things that have no relevance to the situation. His body comes back to him in pieces, moving from his head and neck to his arms and down his back. His body aches all over, his shoulders especially so from the chains, and while he’s no expert in acupuncture, he’s pretty it’s not supposed to feel like this. He remembers a long time ago, sometime before he got wrapped up in BOWs and the world ending over and over again, one of his mom’s friends had gone to experience acupuncture. She’d talked about how amazing it was, how much stress it released and how much better she felt in her body. Leon can’t agree.

“Alright, last one and then we’ll get those chains off. How are you doing, Leon?” The woman asks, pressing her hand against Leon’s back carefully.

“I’m aching. I don’t think acupuncture is supposed to hurt like this.”

“No, it’s not. It’s why I don’t think they were too gentle with you.”

Leon is very aware when the last needle drops onto the floor, his left leg coming back to him uncomfortably. He can’t move much, but he can feel everything again. That’s nice, to have his body back. He looks over his shoulder, where AR was dropping all of the needles, a little shocked just at the sheer amount of them. He must’ve looked like Pinhead for the poor kids who went in first. “Holy shit. I didn’t know that many could fit in a body.”

“Well, congratulations, Agent Kennedy. That many fit.” She gently pat his back, using a piece the broken door to sweep all of the needles to the side. Chris has moved on to the shackles around Leon’s arms, focusing on the left one with lock-picking tools that have come in handy many times before. There’s blood dripping down Leon’s arms, from where his body was laying so heavily on the chains, and Chris can’t stand the sight of it. 

Apparently, the DSO and BSAA leaders in charge of the training mission for the new BSAA agents had gotten together and had decided to make changes to the original plan. Instead of a simple recon mission with a dummy, they were supposed to find a live victim. That unknowing victim, apparently, being Leon S Kennedy. Chris had not been happy with it, and he had a feeling that the directors would not be happy either. 

The chains don’t put up much of a fight, and pop off almost laughably easy. If Leon had his range of motion, he would’ve been out long before now. It’s almost stupid, just how happy Leon is being able to move his body fully, but it’s enjoyable. His body is aching, but he’ll be just fine. “So, how long was I gone?”

“About six hours. I’m hoping you spent most of that unconscious.” Chris helps Leon stand up, holding onto the blond’s arms tightly as his body adjusts to being upright again. 

“I could not tell you. I have no idea how much time passed.”

“Well, that’s great. Let’s get you back, have medical check on you.”

“Aw, you do care.”

“Melanie, do you mine bringing one of those needles with you? Need to shut him up again.”

Melanie sighed. “Children.”