✧ Requests Open ✧

✧ Elli ✧ They / Them ✧ 23 ✧ Minors Do Not Interact ✧ Requests Open ✧

[aelladrift]

✧ AELLA ✧

✧ 23 ✧ THEY/THEM ✧ AO3 ✧ ArtFight ✧

Writer, reader, video game lover, dnd nerd, dice maker, etc!

✧ AELLA’S DIRECTORY

Below are my rules, masterlists, and anything potentially upcoming!

✧ RULES

✧ MASTERLISTS

✧ Resident Evil

✧ Dead By Daylight

✧ THIRSTY THURSDAY

✧ UPCOMING

🌶️: NSFW Update | 🖤: SFW Update

Upcoming posts not in order!

🖤 The Usual Chapter Five

🖤💔 The Cost of Survival Chapters

[kirstenly]

Calivex for @aelladrift for Art Fight

[aelladrift]

Sorry for the lack of posting!! I’ve been buuuusy at work!! Currently working on getting a promotion (wooo!!!)

More chapters to come early next week!!!!! Sorry for the wait!!

[aelladrift]

I may or may not have gotten VERY distracted by both work and ArtFight haha,,,,, (any maybe secretly writing a matthew murdock fic as well)

[aelladrift]

Sorry for the lack of posting!! I’ve been buuuusy at work!! Currently working on getting a promotion (wooo!!!)

More chapters to come early next week!!!!! Sorry for the wait!!

[aelladrift]

THE USUAL ✧ Leon S Kennedy

CHAPTER SIX

✧ Find previous chapter here

SUMMARY: Every night, Leon Kennedy takes the same booth and orders the same coffee. Every night, the same insomniac diner worker serves him. It’s a simple routine, until Leon starts staying a little longer, smiling a little easier, and giving them a reason to look forward to the night shift. After all, some people become regulars. Some people become the reason you keep coming back.

‼️ NSFW. None this chapter

✧ PAIRINGS: RE9! Leon S Kennedy x Gender Neutral! Insomniac Diner Waiter/Waitress! Reader

✧ The Usual Masterlist

✧ My Resident Evil Masterlist

✧ Find me on AO3

💬 I will be participating in ArtFight this year! So my posting on here might slow down a little bit since I will be participating in that! That being said, I will totally still be relatively active, just most likely not writing as much! Find me on ArtFight if you'd like!

The problem with routines was that eventually you started depending on them. Not in a life-altering way. Not in a dramatic way. Just enough that when something felt off, you noticed.

For example: At 1:58 in the morning, you automatically reached for a mug. At 2:03, you poured coffee into it. At 2:05, you set it aside. And at 2:06, you realized what you were doing.

You stared at the mug. The mug stared back.

“You’ve got it bad.”

You didn’t even need to look up. Megan’s voice carried all the smugness necessary.

“I hate you.”

“You say that every day.”

“One day I’ll mean it.”

“Doubtful.”

She leaned against the counter. The coffee mug remained exactly where you’d placed it. Waiting. Which was ridiculous. Because Leon wasn’t even here yet. He wasn’t late. Technically. You’d just gotten used to seeing him around this time. That was all. Nothing weird about that. Nothing at all.

Megan followed your gaze toward the door. Then looked back at you. Then at the coffee. Then back at you again.

“Oh my god.”

“What?”

“You made the coffee before he got here.”

You immediately grabbed the mug.

“I was testing it.”

“The coffee?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

You opened your mouth. Then closed it. Unfortunately, you didn’t actually have an answer. Megan looked delighted. Which was a terrible sign. Before she could say anything else, the bell above the door chimed. Cold air swept inside. And there he was. The relief arrived before you could stop it.

You hated that. Immediately.

Leon stepped inside, shrugging off his jacket. His hair looked slightly damp. Again. The man had an incredible ability to arrive looking like he’d just walked through terrible weather regardless of what the weather was actually doing.

His eyes found yours. Then the mug in your hand. Then back to you. A smile tugged briefly at the corner of his mouth.

“You testing it?”

You froze. Megan made a sound suspiciously close to a cackle. Traitors. All of them.

“Sit down.”

“Good evening to you too.”

“Sit.”

Leon looked entirely too pleased with himself as he slid into booth seven. You pointed at Megan.

“Not a word.”

She held both hands up. The picture of innocence. Which somehow made it worse.

——————————

A few minutes later, you dropped off his burger and slid into the booth opposite him while things were quiet. The diner was slow again. Not quite empty. But close enough. A handful of customers occupied tables scattered throughout the room.

The usual late-night crowd. Most were too tired to cause problems. Which was exactly how you liked it. Leon picked up a fry.

“You know, normal people don’t yell at their coworkers this much.”

“Normal people don’t spend every night in the same diner.”

“Fair.”

You pointed triumphantly.

“Exactly.”

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing.”

The answer caught you slightly off guard. Not because of what he said. Because of how casually he’d said it. Like showing up here every night wasn’t something he merely tolerated. Like he actually enjoyed it.

The thought settled somewhere uncomfortable. Somewhere warm. Dangerous combination. You grabbed your own coffee.

“Busy day?”

Leon hesitated. Just for a second. The pause was brief enough that most people would’ve missed it. You didn’t. Then he shrugged.

“Something like that.”

The answer was familiar. You’d heard versions of it before. Usually when he didn’t want to talk about something. Normally, you let it go. This time, though…

Something looked different. Not wrong. Just tired. More tired than usual. The kind of tired that seemed to sink into a person’s bones.

“You okay?”

The question left your mouth before you could stop it. For a moment, Leon simply looked at you. The diner noises seemed quieter somehow. The hum of the refrigerators. The distant clink of dishes. Rain tapping faintly against the windows once again. Everything faded into the background.

Then Leon smiled. Small. Tired. Real.

“Yeah.”

The answer sounded honest. Mostly. Which somehow worried you more.

✧ Find next chapter here

✧ TAGLIST: Feel free to comment, leave an ask, or message me to be added to the tag list for this series!

@welcominglychaotic @alyenna @innocentcinnamonpun

[aelladrift]

THE USUAL ✧ Leon S Kennedy

CHAPTER FIVE

✧ Find previous chapter here

SUMMARY: Every night, Leon Kennedy takes the same booth and orders the same coffee. Every night, the same insomniac diner worker serves him. It’s a simple routine, until Leon starts staying a little longer, smiling a little easier, and giving them a reason to look forward to the night shift. After all, some people become regulars. Some people become the reason you keep coming back.

‼️ NSFW. None this chapter

✧ PAIRINGS: RE9! Leon S Kennedy x Gender Neutral! Insomniac Diner Waiter/Waitress! Reader

✧ The Usual Masterlist

✧ My Resident Evil Masterlist

✧ Find me on AO3

💬 I will be participating in ArtFight this year! So my posting on here might slow down a little bit since I will be participating in that! That being said, I will totally still be relatively active, just most likely not writing as much! Find me on ArtFight if you'd like!

The night itself was uneventful. Which, in your experience, usually meant the universe was planning something. The diner stayed relatively quiet. Leon arrived at his usual time. Or, more accurately, nineteen minutes after his usual time.

Not that anyone was counting. You definitely weren’t counting. Absolutely not.

The coffee had already been poured by the time he sat down. The cook didn’t even ask about booth seven anymore. The order went in automatically. At some point, you’d all become enablers. Leon seemed entirely too pleased about it.

“You know,” he said as you dropped off his burger, “one day I’m gonna order something different.”

“No, you’re not.”

“You don’t know that.”

“You ordered the same thing thirty-one nights in a row.”

“It was thirty.”

“Thirty-one.”

“You counted?”

You immediately regretted everything. Leon looked up from his coffee. That look. The one that said he’d caught something.

“You counted.”

“Eat your burger.”

His grin widened. You hated it. Unfortunately. The rest of the shift passed much the same. Coffee refills. Bad jokes. Megan making everyone’s life difficult. The usual.

By the time six-thirty rolled around, the sky outside was beginning to lighten. The rain had finally stopped sometime around four. You clocked out. Gathered your things. Said goodnight to the cook. And headed outside.

The morning air was cold enough to wake the dead. You shoved your hands into your jacket pockets and crossed the parking lot. Your car sat where you’d left it. Exactly as expected. At least until you turned the key. Click. Nothing. You frowned. Turned it again. Click. Still nothing.

“No.”

Another attempt. Click. The engine didn’t even try. You stared at the steering wheel. The steering wheel stared back. You tried again. Because denial was an important part of the troubleshooting process. Click. Nothing.

“Fantastic.”

The word echoed through the empty car. You let your forehead fall gently against the wheel. Maybe if you waited long enough, the problem would solve itself. It did not.

A knock on the window nearly made you jump out of your skin. You jerked upright. Leon stood beside the driver’s door. Coffee in one hand. Looking entirely too awake for someone who’d been drinking diner coffee until sunrise. You opened the door to talk to him.

“What?”

His eyes flicked toward the ignition.

“Car trouble?”

You pointed at him.

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“The face.”

“What face?”

“The one that says ‘I told you so.’”

“I didn’t tell you so.”

“Yet.” Leon considered that.

“Fair.”

You groaned. He took a sip of coffee.

“You wanna pop the hood?”

You looked at him. Then at your car. Then back at him.

“…Do you actually know anything about cars?”

A pause.

“Enough.”

That wasn’t reassuring. Not even a little. Leon stared at the car for a moment. Then at you. Then back at the car. You didn’t like the look that crossed his face. Mostly because it was the same look mechanics got right before informing you that your vehicle was either dying or already dead.

“No.”

“I haven’t said anything.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I really haven’t.”

“You looked at it.”

“I did.”

“You made a face.”

“It was a normal face.”

“It absolutely was not.” Leon sighed.

“Pop the hood.” You narrowed your eyes.

“You’re awfully confident for someone who answered ‘enough’ when asked if they knew anything about cars.”

“I know enough.”

“There it is again.”

“There what is?”

“‘Enough.’”

You climbed out of the car.

“It’s a terrible answer.”

“It’s an accurate answer.”

The parking lot was mostly empty now. The morning air still carried the lingering chill left behind by the rain. Somewhere in the distance, traffic had begun picking up as people with normal sleep schedules started their day. You envied them. Slightly.

Leon stepped around the front of the car as you pulled the hood release. A second later he lifted it. Immediately he became quieter. Focused. Not in a concerning way. Just… Different.

You’d spent weeks talking to him across a diner booth. Weeks trading bad jokes and coffee refills. Weeks watching him stare out rain-streaked windows. You’d never really seen him doing something. Not outside of existing in booth seven.

Now he was leaning over the engine with his sleeves pushed back slightly, studying it with complete concentration. For some reason, that felt strange. Like spotting a teacher outside of school.

“You know what you’re looking at?”

Leon glanced up.

“No.”

You blinked.

“What?”

A grin appeared. Then vanished.

“There it is.”

You pointed at him.

“The face.”

“What face?”

“The one where you’re being annoying.”

“You seem to see that one a lot.”

“Funny how that works.”

The corner of his mouth twitched. Unfortunately. You were beginning to enjoy making him laugh. Which felt dangerous. A few moments later, he reached toward the battery. His expression shifted slightly.

“There we go.”

Your stomach sank. That didn’t sound encouraging.

“What?”

He straightened.

“Battery terminal’s loose.”

You stared.

“…That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

The relief that flooded through you was immediate. Followed quickly by offense.

“You made it sound way worse.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You did a mechanic face.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“You know exactly what it means.”

Leon looked entirely unconvinced. Which only made it worse. A few minutes later he tightened something you couldn’t identify and shut the hood.

“Try it now.”

You climbed back into the driver’s seat. Turned the key. The engine roared to life immediately. For a second you simply sat there. Listening. Making sure it wasn’t a cruel trick. Then you looked through the windshield at Leon.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

He shrugged. “You owe me.”

You rolled down the window.

“For what?”

“My mechanic services.”

“What mechanic services?”

“The ones that fixed your car.”

“You tightened one thing.”

“It was a very important thing.”

You laughed despite yourself.

“How much?”

Leon pretended to consider it.

“Hmm.”

You immediately regretted asking. That expression never led anywhere good.

“One coffee.”

You stared.

“One coffee?”

“Seems fair.”

“I’ve served you approximately four hundred coffees.”

“And yet.”

He held up one finger.

“You still owe me one.”

You groaned.

“You’re impossible.”

“I know.”

The answer came far too quickly. As if he’d heard it before. More than once. You shook your head.

“Fine.”

“Fine?”

“One coffee.”

His grin widened slightly.

“Pleasure doing business with you.”

The sun had begun creeping higher over the horizon. Golden light spilled across the parking lot. For the first time since you’d met him, you realized neither of you seemed particularly eager to leave. The car was fixed. The problem was solved. The conversation should have ended. Yet somehow both of you were still standing there. Like there was no rush. Like neither of you had noticed how much time had passed. Leon shoved his hands into his jacket pockets.

“You should probably get some sleep.”

You laughed. The irony was incredible.

“You’re telling me that?”

“Yeah.”

“You look like you haven’t slept since 2019.”

“That’s rude.”

“It’s accurate.”

“Still rude.”

You smiled. He shook his head. And for a brief moment, standing there in the nearly empty parking lot, the diner felt very far away. Not physically. Just enough that this didn’t feel like a customer talking to a server anymore. Just two people talking. Neither quite ready to say goodbye yet. Neither entirely sure why.

✧ Find next chapter here

✧ TAGLIST: Feel free to comment, leave an ask, or message me to be added to the tag list for this series!

@welcominglychaotic @alyenna @innocentcinnamonpun

[aelladrift]

THE COST OF SURVIVAL ✧ Leon S Kennedy

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

✧ Find previous chapter here

SUMMARY: You were trained to save lives, not to take them. Fresh out of training, your first assignment places you alongside Leon S. Kennedy during what should have been a routine outbreak investigation. Instead, the mission quickly descends into a nightmare of failed evacuations, impossible choices, and horrors neither of you are prepared to face. As the body count rises and the line between survival and sacrifice begins to blur, you’ll learn that every life saved comes at a cost…and some wounds refuse to heal long after the mission is over.

‼️ NSFW. Canon typical violence and depictions

✧ PAIRINGS: RE9! Leon S Kennedy x Gender Neutral! Rookie Medic! Reader

✧ The Cost of Survival Masterlist (behind!!!)

✧ My Resident Evil Masterlist

✧ Find me on AO3

💬 I will be participating in ArtFight this year! So my posting on here might slow down a little bit since I will be participating in that! That being said, I will totally still be relatively active, just most likely not writing as much! Find me on ArtFight if you'd like!

The first thing you noticed was warmth. A faint patch of sunlight stretched across the floor. Soft. Golden. Almost unfamiliar.

For a moment, you didn’t understand what you were looking at. Then reality slowly caught up. Morning. Actual morning. Not flashlight beams. Not emergency lighting. Not moonlight filtering through broken windows. Sunlight. Real sunlight. You blinked against it. Disoriented.

Your neck immediately protested the movement. Apparently shelter cots were not designed with comfort in mind. A shocking revelation. You groaned quietly. The shelter was still. Not silent. Still. The kind of calm that only existed after complete exhaustion had claimed everyone.

A few survivors remained asleep. Others were already awake, speaking quietly amongst themselves. Trying not to disturb anyone. Including you. Including Leon. Especially Leon. You sat up slowly. Every muscle complained. Your shoulders ached. Your legs felt heavy. And your back was convinced you’d personally wronged it somehow.

Across the aisle, Leon was still asleep. That alone was enough to make you pause. Because you weren’t entirely sure you’d ever seen him sleep before. Nap? Maybe. Rest with one eye open? Absolutely. Actually asleep? That was new.

The morning sunlight caught strands of blond hair that had fallen loose overnight. One arm rested over his eyes. His jacket had been draped across himself at some point. Probably sometime after finally being bullied into sleeping. You were almost impressed he’d managed it. The man seemed physically incapable of relaxing. A quiet voice interrupted your thoughts.

“He needed it.”

You looked up. The older woman sat nearby. A blanket wrapped around her shoulders. A warm cup cradled between both hands. You followed her gaze. Back to Leon.

“Yeah.”

The woman smiled softly.

“We figured.”

Your eyebrows lifted.

“What do you mean?”

She gestured around the shelter.

“Nobody woke either of you.”

That explained a lot. The watches had changed. People had moved around. Someone had clearly started a small breakfast station near the front of the building. And yet neither you nor Leon had stirred. The woman shrugged.

“You two have been keeping everyone alive.”

Your chest tightened slightly.

“We just—”

“No.”

Her interruption was gentle. Firm.

“You have.”

You weren’t entirely sure what to say to that. Thankfully, she continued.

“Leon protects people.”

Her eyes softened.

“You patch them back together afterward.”

A pause.

“Both matter.”

You glanced away. Suddenly finding the floor very interesting. The woman smiled knowingly. Mercifully deciding not to push further.

“Get something to eat.”

The words were familiar enough that you immediately looked toward Leon. The woman laughed. Apparently she’d noticed too.

“See?”

You pointed.

“That’s exactly what he says.”

“Smart man.”

“I liked you better five seconds ago.”

The woman only laughed harder. Across the shelter, movement caught your eye. Leon stirred. Barely. A small shift beneath the jacket. Then another. The moment his eyes opened, years of training seemed to kick in. Awake. Alert. Scanning. Assessing. You watched the transition happen in real time. From sleeping man to government agent in under three seconds. Honestly, it was a little concerning.

His gaze swept the shelter. Counted people. Checked exits. Checked windows. Then landed on you. Immediately. You raised a hand.

“Morning.”

His eyes narrowed slightly. Not suspicious. Just tired.

“Why are you awake?”

You stared.

“Good morning to you too.”

Leon sat up slowly. Looking every bit as stiff as you felt. Which was admittedly satisfying. A little.

“You slept.”

The accusation caught you completely off guard.

“What?”

“You slept.”

His expression suggested this was somehow surprising. You pointed at yourself.

“I require sleep.”

“You usually fight it.”

The fact that he had already noticed that was mildly irritating.

“You fight it too.”

“Not the point.”

“It is exactly the point.”

The older woman nearby made a suspicious choking sound. Neither of you acknowledged it. Because that would only encourage her. Leon rubbed at one eye. Looking more human than you were used to seeing. Less agent. Less legend. Just tired. Very tired.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The shelter felt different this morning. Still dangerous. Still uncertain. But lighter somehow. The panic from yesterday had faded. At least temporarily. People were eating. Talking. Checking on one another. Acting almost normal. Almost.

Then Ethan appeared. Which immediately ruined the peaceful atmosphere. The man looked pale. Concerned. And entirely too awake for someone who’d survived what he had. Your stomach dropped. Because nobody wore that expression unless they had bad news.

Leon noticed it too. Of course he did. The last traces of sleep vanished instantly.

“What happened?”

Ethan hesitated. Just long enough to confirm something had happened. Then he looked between the two of you. And said the words you’d both been dreading.

“I think I found a way out.”

The shelter fell silent. Because in a town like this, a way out was almost never that simple. Ethan immediately looked like he regretted speaking. Every eye in the shelter was suddenly on him. Hope was a dangerous thing. Especially here. Especially now.

“A way out?” one of the survivors repeated. The question came out almost afraid. Like saying it too loudly might scare it away. Ethan nodded. Slowly.

“Maybe.”

The room groaned. Immediately. You pointed at him.

“Never start with ‘I found a way out’ and then follow it with ‘maybe.’”

A few survivors laughed. Ethan looked mildly offended.

“It’s a valid maybe.”

“No.”

“It is.”

“No, it’s not.”

Leon pinched the bridge of his nose. Already tired of both of you. Unfortunately for him, neither of you cared. Ethan straightened slightly.

“There’s a maintenance road.”

That got everyone’s attention back immediately. The room quieted.

“A maintenance road?” Leon asked. Ethan nodded.

“It runs behind the facility.”

His expression darkened.

“Or it used to.” That sounded significantly less promising.

“The main roads are blocked.”

Ethan continued.

“Most of them were abandoned during the evacuation. But the maintenance crews used a separate access route.”

He pointed vaguely south.

“As far as I know, it eventually connects to the highway.”

The shelter grew silent. People exchanging hopeful looks. Nervous looks. Desperate looks. The kind of looks people got when they were offered a lifeline. Even one with holes in it. Leon folded his arms.

“What makes you think it’s still usable?”

Ethan hesitated. Which was never a good sign.

“Because I saw one of the gates open.”

The room paused.

“What?”

Ethan rubbed the back of his neck.

“Last night.”

That immediately got your attention.

“You never mentioned that.”

“I was busy talking about the underground nightmare.”

Fair. Very fair. Ethan pointed toward one of the windows.

“When I was hiding before I found the shelter, I saw lights.”

Leon’s expression sharpened.

“Lights.”

Not a question. A statement. Ethan nodded.

“Vehicle lights.”

That changed everything. The room immediately erupted into conversation. People talking over one another. Questions. Hope. Fear. Confusion. Someone had a vehicle? Someone else was alive? A rescue team? Military? Survivors? Nobody knew. Nobody could know. Not yet.

Leon raised his voice.

“Quiet.”

The room obeyed immediately. The conversations died. The excitement remained. But the noise disappeared.

“What kind of vehicle?”

Ethan frowned.

“I couldn’t tell.” Not helpful. “Truck maybe.” Less helpful. “It was dark.”

There it was. The universal answer of someone who knew they weren’t being helpful. Leon sighed. The same sigh you’d heard a dozen times already. The one that usually meant he was thinking. Planning. Calculating. You already knew what was coming. Unfortunately.

“So we’re checking it out.”

Called it. Several survivors immediately looked relieved. Several others looked terrified. You found yourself somewhere in the middle.

“Today?” you asked. Leon looked at one of the windows. Sunlight streamed through the cracks in the boards. The first real daylight any of you had seen in what felt like forever.

“Best chance we’ll get.”

He wasn’t wrong. You hated that. But he wasn’t. Daylight meant visibility. Visibility meant survival. At least theoretically. The room began stirring again. Hope spreading through the shelter. Careful. Tentative. Fragile. But there.

You watched it happen. People sitting a little straighter. Talking a little louder. Looking a little less defeated. For the first time since arriving in town, they had a goal. A destination. Something beyond simply surviving until the next hour.

You looked toward Leon. He was already checking equipment. Already planning routes. Already preparing for the worst-case scenario. As usual.

“You know,” you said. His eyes narrowed immediately.

“What.”

“You didn’t even finish breakfast.”

The look he gave you was immediate. Offended.

“You were awake for five seconds.”

“And?”

“And somehow you’re already worrying about food.”

You pointed triumphantly.

“There he is.”

“What does that mean?”

“The old man.”

“I’m not old.”

You looked toward Ethan.

“Ethan, back me up.”

“No.”

“Betrayal.”

“Self-preservation.”

Leon looked dangerously close to smiling. Dangerously. Then it vanished. Replaced by something more serious. More focused. His gaze shifted toward the boarded windows. Toward the town outside. Toward whatever waited between the shelter and that maintenance road.

The room slowly followed his gaze. And just like that, the excitement faded. Because everyone remembered the same thing. A way out existed. Maybe. But the town was still between them and freedom. And the town wasn’t going to let them leave without a fight.

✧ Find next chapter here

✧ TAGLIST: Feel free to comment, leave an ask, or message me to be added to the tag list for this series!

@innocentcinnamonpun @pinkcatnight @probably--possessed @possums-things @fries11 @badbishsblog @blackrockshooter780

[aelladrift]

THE COST OF SURVIVAL ✧ Leon S Kennedy

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

✧ Find previous chapter here

SUMMARY: You were trained to save lives, not to take them. Fresh out of training, your first assignment places you alongside Leon S. Kennedy during what should have been a routine outbreak investigation. Instead, the mission quickly descends into a nightmare of failed evacuations, impossible choices, and horrors neither of you are prepared to face. As the body count rises and the line between survival and sacrifice begins to blur, you’ll learn that every life saved comes at a cost…and some wounds refuse to heal long after the mission is over.

‼️ NSFW. Canon typical violence and depictions

✧ PAIRINGS: RE9! Leon S Kennedy x Gender Neutral! Rookie Medic! Reader

✧ The Cost of Survival Masterlist (behind!!!)

✧ My Resident Evil Masterlist

✧ Find me on AO3

💬 I will be participating in ArtFight this year! So my posting on here might slow down a little bit since I will be participating in that! That being said, I will totally still be relatively active, just most likely not writing as much! Find me on ArtFight if you'd like!

Nobody spoke until the shelter door was shut behind them. The barricade was put back into place. The locks checked. Then checked again. Only when the last piece of furniture had been shoved into position did the room finally exhale.

The survivors immediately crowded around Lena. Questions. Concerns. Relief. A few people even started crying. Apparently they’d thought she was dead. Given the circumstances, that was understandable.

You helped her settle onto one of the cots near the wall. The sprained ankle wasn’t serious. Painful. Swollen. But manageable. You’d seen far worse. Especially recently.

“You’ll be okay.”

Lena nodded. Though she looked more shaken by what had chased her than the injury itself. Honestly? You couldn’t blame her. The image of those eyes still lingered in your mind. Watching. Waiting. Thinking.

That was the part you hated. Not that the creature was dangerous. The fact that it seemed intelligent. That somehow made everything worse.

You finished wrapping Lena’s ankle before standing. Immediately regretting it. Your entire body protested. Every muscle ached. Your legs felt like they’d been carrying bricks for days. Which, considering the mission, wasn’t entirely inaccurate.

“You look awful.”

You turned. Leon stood nearby. Arms crossed. Expression neutral. You stared.

“Good evening to you too.”

“You need sleep.”

“There it is.”

“There what is?”

“The old man lecture.”

Leon’s expression flattened instantly.

“Old man?”

“You tell me to eat.”

You held up one finger.

“You tell me to sleep.”

A second finger.

“You tell me to stay behind cover.”

A third.

“You sigh every time I do something remotely dangerous.”

A fourth.

“You are one bad knee away from becoming somebody’s grandfather.”

Several survivors nearby immediately looked away. Trying, and failing, not to laugh. Leon’s stare could have peeled paint. You considered that a victory. A small one. But still.

“You done?”

“No.”

His eyes narrowed. You wisely stopped talking. For now. A volunteer approached from across the room. One of the men helping watch the entrances.

“Northern windows are secure.”

Leon nodded.

“Anything moving?”

“Not anymore.”

Not exactly reassuring. The volunteer hesitated. Then, “There was something on the roof earlier.”

The room immediately fell quiet. You felt your stomach drop. The man pointed upward.

“Couldn’t get a good look.”

His expression darkened.

“But it was there.”

The shelter seemed to grow colder. Several survivors exchanged nervous glances. Nobody wanted to say what they were all thinking. Because saying it aloud would make it real. Leon rubbed a hand across his face. Tired. Exhausted. Still somehow functioning.

“We’ll double watches.”

The volunteer nodded. Then disappeared back toward the front of the building. The conversations around the shelter became quieter. More nervous. The little bit of relief from rescuing Lena evaporated almost immediately.

You watched Leon for a moment. The exhaustion was getting harder to ignore now. You’d noticed it before. The stiffness. The slower movements. The brief moments where he thought nobody was looking. But now? Now it was obvious. He was running on fumes. And somehow still trying to protect everyone. Including you. Which was irritating. And concerning.

You walked over. Leon immediately looked suspicious. You hated that he knew you that well already.

“What?”

“You need to sit down.”

“No.”

“You haven’t even heard my argument.”

“I don’t need to.”

“That’s incredibly rude.”

“I’m aware.”

You crossed your arms.

“So you’re refusing medical advice.”

“I’m refusing your medical advice.”

You gasped dramatically. Several survivors looked over. Interested. Leon immediately regretted engaging. You could see it.

“Wow.”

“You done?”

“No.”

A pause. “No wonder you’re single.”

The entire shelter went silent. Immediately. Instantly. Painfully. You froze. Leon froze.

Three survivors looked like they were trying not to choke. The older woman from earlier looked delighted. Absolutely delighted. And for the first time since meeting him, Leon actually looked caught off guard. Not angry. Not annoyed. Just surprised.

You covered your face. “Oh my God.” The words left before you could stop them. “I can’t believe I said that.”

The older woman burst out laughing. Several others followed. Even Ethan nearly dropped the water bottle he’d been nursing for the last hour. Leon’s stare intensified. You were never recovering from this. Ever. Not in a million years.

You considered leaving the country. Possibly the planet. The shelter, however, had decided this was the funniest thing that had happened all night. Which, admittedly, was a low bar.

Eventually the laughter died down. The room settled. The tension eased. Just a little. Enough for people to breathe again. Enough for people to remember they were still human. Leon shook his head. Slowly. Then looked toward one of the nearby cots.

“Get some sleep.”

You blinked.

“What?”

“That’s an order.”

You opened your mouth. He pointed. Immediately.

“No.”

“You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

“Yes I do.”

Unfortunately, he probably did. You sighed dramatically. The cot suddenly looked very tempting. More tempting than it had any right to. Your body was exhausted. Your brain even more so. And for once, the shelter actually felt somewhat secure. Not safe. Never safe. But secure enough.

You looked toward Leon. “You’re sleeping too.”

His expression suggested he’d rather fight the creature outside.

“Leon.”

A pause. Then another.

“Fine.”

The answer surprised both of you. You could tell because Leon immediately looked annoyed he’d said it. A small smile tugged at your lips. Progress. Tiny. Painfully slow. But progress.

Outside, the wind rattled softly against the shelter walls. The creature remained unseen. The town remained silent. And for the first time in what felt like forever, the two of you might actually get a few hours of sleep. Assuming the nightmare outside allowed it.

✧ Find next chapter here

✧ TAGLIST: Feel free to comment, leave an ask, or message me to be added to the tag list for this series!

@innocentcinnamonpun @pinkcatnight @probably--possessed @possums-things @fries11 @badbishsblog @blackrockshooter780

[aelladrift]

THE COST OF SURVIVAL ✧ Leon S Kennedy

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

✧ Find previous chapter here

SUMMARY: You were trained to save lives, not to take them. Fresh out of training, your first assignment places you alongside Leon S. Kennedy during what should have been a routine outbreak investigation. Instead, the mission quickly descends into a nightmare of failed evacuations, impossible choices, and horrors neither of you are prepared to face. As the body count rises and the line between survival and sacrifice begins to blur, you’ll learn that every life saved comes at a cost…and some wounds refuse to heal long after the mission is over.

‼️ NSFW. Canon typical violence and depictions

✧ PAIRINGS: RE9! Leon S Kennedy x Gender Neutral! Rookie Medic! Reader

✧ The Cost of Survival Masterlist

✧ My Resident Evil Masterlist

✧ Find me on AO3

💬 I will be participating in ArtFight this year! So my posting on here might slow down a little bit since I will be participating in that! That being said, I will totally still be relatively active, just most likely not writing as much! Find me on ArtFight if you'd like!

The creature never attacked. Not again. For nearly five minutes, nothing happened. Which somehow felt worse. You and Leon remained near the damaged wall. Weapons raised. Waiting. Listening.

The opening in the shelter’s rear wall let in cold air and darkness. Too much darkness. The kind that seemed to swallow the flashlight beams before they could reach anything useful. Behind you, the survivors remained silent. Nobody wanted to be the one to break the tension. Nobody wanted to draw attention. Another scraping sound echoed from somewhere outside. Farther away this time. Moving. Circling.

Leon tracked the sound immediately. You tried to do the same. But every noise seemed to bounce strangely between the buildings. Every shadow looked alive. Every movement felt threatening. It was exhausting.

“You hear that?” Leon asked. You nodded.

“Left side.”

His eyes flicked toward you. Briefly. Then he nodded once.

“Good.”

The single word shouldn’t have mattered. But it did. Because it was the first time he’d asked for your input instead of simply giving orders. The silence returned. Heavy. Uncomfortable.

Then, glass shattered somewhere outside. Everyone jumped. The noise echoed through the empty streets. A second later came another crash. Then another. Not close. But getting closer. Leon’s jaw tightened.

“What is it doing?” you whispered.

“I don’t know.”

You didn’t like that answer. Judging by his expression, neither did he. A scream suddenly erupted somewhere outside. Human. Close. Very close. The shelter exploded into motion. Survivors stood. Children cried. People rushed toward the sound before others pulled them back.

“It came from outside!”

“My husband—”

“What if somebody’s still alive?”

Leon was already moving. Toward the front entrance. Toward the sound. Toward the danger. Of course he was. You hurried after him.

“Leon.”

He was already checking the barricades. Already listening. Already planning. The scream came again. Shorter this time. Weaker. Then silence.

The look that crossed Leon’s face told you everything. Someone was out there. And if there was even a chance they were alive, he was going. No matter how stupid it was. No matter how dangerous. No matter how exhausted he was. You sighed.

“Of course we’re doing this.”

His glance toward you almost looked amused. Almost.

“You staying here?”

“No.”

“Didn’t think so.”

The two of you carefully moved the barricade aside. Just enough. Not enough to compromise the shelter. Just enough to slip through. Cold air immediately hit your face. The town was silent. Too silent. The flashlight beam swept across abandoned cars. Broken windows. Empty streets. Nothing. No movement. No survivors. No infected. Just darkness.

The scream came again. This time from an alley across the street. Definitely human. Definitely terrified. Leon didn’t hesitate. The two of you crossed the road quickly. Weapons raised. The alley narrowed ahead. Dumpsters. Broken fencing. A dead end. And a woman pressed against the wall. Alive. Terrified. Crying. You immediately lowered your weapon.

“Hey—”

Something moved above her. Fast. A shape dropping from a fire escape. Your stomach dropped.

“LEON—”

The warning left your mouth just as the creature lunged. Leon reacted instantly. But not fast enough. Not alone. Because this time, you were already moving too. Your shot rang out first. The creature twisted. The attack went wide. Instead of hitting Leon, it crashed into the side of a dumpster. Metal screamed. The entire alley shook. Leon didn’t waste the opening. Three shots. Center mass. The creature staggered backward. Roaring.

You grabbed the woman. Pulling her behind cover. Medic instincts colliding violently with survival instincts.

“Stay down!”

The creature recovered immediately. Too quickly. Far too quickly. Its head snapped toward you. Toward the civilian. Toward the easier targets. And for one horrible second, you knew exactly what it was about to do. It wasn’t hunting randomly. It was choosing.

“Left!” Leon shouted.

You moved without thinking. The creature lunged. Missing you by inches. Its claws slammed into brick instead. Chunks of masonry exploded outward. The alley filled with dust. Gunfire echoed. Yours. Leon’s. Back and forth. Covering each other. Moving together. No hesitation. No second guessing. Just instinct.

For the first time since this mission started, you weren’t following Leon. You were fighting beside him. The creature finally recoiled. Injured. Angry. Calculating. Its silhouette disappeared back up the fire escape in a blur of movement. Gone. Just like that. The alley fell silent. Your ears rang. Your heart pounded.

The rescued woman sobbed quietly behind you. And for several seconds, neither you nor Leon moved. Just listened. Waiting to see if it would come back. When it didn’t, you finally lowered your weapon. Slowly. Carefully. Trying to get your breathing under control.

Beside you, Leon did the same. The silence stretched. Then—

“Nice shot.”

You looked over. Certain you’d misheard him. Leon checked his magazine. Avoiding eye contact. Like he hadn’t just said anything at all.

“You saved me from getting tackled.”

A pause. Then, “Thanks.”

The words hit harder than any monster ever could. Because Leon Kennedy didn’t seem like the type to hand out compliments. Especially not to rookies. Especially not after knowing them for less than a week. You stared. He noticed. Immediately.

“Don’t make it weird.”

That earned a laugh despite everything. A genuine one. The first in hours. And for the first time since receiving this assignment, you thought maybe Leon was starting to see you as more than just someone he had to protect. The moment didn’t last. It never did. Not in places like this. Not in towns crawling with infected. Not when something far worse was still lurking in the dark.

The woman you’d pulled to safety was still shaking. Tears streaked through the dirt on her face. Her breathing came in short, panicked bursts. You immediately knelt beside her.

“Hey.”

The flashlight beam shifted away from her face. Gentler. Less intimidating.

“You’re okay.”

She didn’t look convinced. Honestly, you weren’t either. But it was a start.

“Can you tell me your name?” The woman swallowed.

“L-Lena.”

“Okay, Lena.”

You offered a small smile.

“My name is—”

A loud metallic crash echoed somewhere down the street. Everyone froze. Including Leon. The sound hadn’t come from the alley. It hadn’t even come from nearby. But it was close enough. Close enough to matter. Leon stepped toward the alley entrance. Weapon raised. Listening. The street beyond remained dark. Empty. Still. A little too still.

You noticed the way his shoulders tensed. The way his focus sharpened. Something about that noise had bothered him. A lot.

“Lena.”

Your attention returned to the woman.

“Are you hurt?”

She shook her head. Then paused. Then nodded. Then immediately looked embarrassed. You almost laughed. Almost.

“My ankle.” She pointed toward her leg. “I think.”

“Think?”

“I fell.” That explained approximately nothing. You sighed.

“Fair enough.”

A familiar sound came from above you. The unmistakable noise of someone trying very hard not to comment. Leon. You looked up. His expression remained completely neutral. Unfortunately, his eyes were amused. Slightly. Barely. But enough.

“You have something to say?”

“No.”

“You absolutely do.”

“Nope.”

The fact that he looked away made it worse. Much worse. You narrowed your eyes. He ignored you completely. The traitor. Another crash echoed through the town. Closer. This time Leon’s amusement vanished immediately. Back to business. Back to the mission. Back to being Agent Kennedy.

He stepped toward the alley entrance again. Studying the darkness. The street. The rooftops. Everything. You finished examining Lena’s ankle. Sprained. Painful. But manageable. Not ideal. Not disastrous.

“You can walk?”

“I think so.”

Another inspiring answer. Before you could respond, Leon spoke.

“We’re leaving.” You stood.

“So soon?”

His stare was immediate. Flat. Unimpressed. You pointed toward the woman.

“I meant her.”

“Still leaving.”

Fair. Very fair. The shelter wasn’t far. A couple of streets at most. Normally. Unfortunately, nothing about tonight had been normal. Leon moved first. Taking point. You stayed beside Lena. Helping her keep weight off the injured ankle.

The walk back should have been easy. It wasn’t. The entire town felt wrong now. More than before. The silence had changed. Before, it had felt abandoned. Now it felt occupied. Like something was watching. Waiting. Following.

You weren’t the only one who noticed. Lena kept glancing over her shoulder. Leon checked rooftops every few seconds. Even you found yourself gripping your weapon tighter. The shelter finally came into view. A welcome sight. Boarded windows. Barricades. Safety. Or at least the closest thing to it.

You were halfway across the street when Leon suddenly stopped. Immediately. No warning. No explanationJust frozen. Your stomach dropped. Because you’d learned something important over the last few days. When Leon Kennedy stopped moving, there was usually a very good reason.

“What?”

His answer came quietly. Too quietly.

“Don’t move.”

Well. That was terrifying. You obeyed immediately. Lena froze beside you. The night stretched. Silent. Tense. Waiting. Then Leon slowly raised his flashlight. Not toward the shelter. Not toward the street. Toward one of the nearby rooftops. Your gaze followed.

At first, you saw nothing. Just darkness. Broken shingles. Shadows. Then the flashlight shifted. And something reflected the light back. A pair of eyes. High above the street. Watching. Your blood ran cold. Because those eyes weren’t surprised. They weren’t hiding. They weren’t afraid. They’d been watching the entire time. Watching you. Watching Leon. Watching the shelter.

The beam remained fixed. Neither side moved. For one long second. Then two. Then three. And suddenly the eyes disappeared. Gone. Vanished into the darkness. The rooftop was empty again. As if nothing had ever been there. Nobody spoke. Nobody breathed. Leon lowered the flashlight slowly. His jaw tightened. Beside you, Lena whispered one terrified word.

“What… was that?”

For once, Leon didn’t have an answer.

✧ Find next chapter here

✧ TAGLIST: Feel free to comment, leave an ask, or message me to be added to the tag list for this series!

@innocentcinnamonpun @pinkcatnight @probably--possessed @possums-things @fries11 @badbishsblog

[aelladrift]

THE COST OF SURVIVAL ✧ Leon S Kennedy

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

✧ Find previous chapter here

SUMMARY: You were trained to save lives, not to take them. Fresh out of training, your first assignment places you alongside Leon S. Kennedy during what should have been a routine outbreak investigation. Instead, the mission quickly descends into a nightmare of failed evacuations, impossible choices, and horrors neither of you are prepared to face. As the body count rises and the line between survival and sacrifice begins to blur, you’ll learn that every life saved comes at a cost…and some wounds refuse to heal long after the mission is over.

‼️ NSFW. Canon typical violence and depictions

✧ PAIRINGS: RE9! Leon S Kennedy x Gender Neutral! Rookie Medic! Reader

✧ The Cost of Survival Masterlist

✧ My Resident Evil Masterlist

✧ Find me on AO3

💬 I will be participating in ArtFight this year! So my posting on here might slow down a little bit since I will be participating in that! That being said, I will totally still be relatively active, just most likely not writing as much! Find me on ArtFight if you'd like!

The shelter was silent. The distant thump never came again. For several long seconds, nobody moved. Nobody breathed. Everyone listening. Waiting. Hoping they hadn’t actually heard what they thought they’d heard.

Outside, darkness pressed against the boarded windows. Unmoving. Watching. Leon finally pushed away from the wall.

“Everyone get some rest.”

The order immediately broke the tension. People began moving again. Slowly. Reluctantly. The survivors returned to cots and blankets. Conversations remained quiet. Nervous. Exhausted.

The adrenaline from Ethan’s story was fading. Leaving behind only fatigue. Ethan looked ready to collapse. Honestly, so did you. You’d been awake for far too long. Your shoulders ached. Your eyes burned. And the town still wanted to kill you. Not exactly ideal working conditions.

You were in the middle of gathering some of the medical supplies when Leon spoke. Quietly.

“How much sleep have you gotten?”

You looked up. Immediately suspicious.

“Enough.”

“That’s not a number.”

“It’s a vague amount.”

Leon’s expression didn’t change. Unfortunately.

“How much?”

You sighed.

“…a few hours.”

“A few?”

“Technically.”

His stare suggested he was unimpressed. You pointed toward Ethan.

“He’s worse.”

“Nice try.”

“Thought so.”

Leon looked like he was about to say something else. Then froze. The change was immediate. Subtle. But noticeable. You saw it happen. The way his head tilted slightly. The way his focus shifted. Listening.

“What?”

He held up a hand. The room fell quiet. Every survivor immediately noticed. And that was all the confirmation you needed.

Something was wrong. The shelter became still. Leon slowly turned toward the far side of the building. Listening.

Then a scraping noise. Faint. Metal against concrete. The sound came from outside. Near the back entrance.

Your stomach tightened. Everyone heard it this time. Another scrape. Longer. Closer.

The room erupted into nervous whispers. Leon was already moving. Weapon drawn. Professional. Focused. Alert. You hated how quickly he’d gone from exhausted to dangerous. It was impressive. And concerning.

Leon looked toward the volunteers.

“Keep everyone away from the exits.”

The man immediately nodded. No hesitation. No argument. Then Leon looked toward you.

“You stay—”

“No.”

His eyes closed. Briefly. Like he already knew.

“You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

“You were going to tell me to stay here.”

A pause.

“…yes.”

“Then no.”

The glare you received could have killed lesser people. You survived. Barely. Another impact struck the wall. Louder this time. The entire building seemed to tremble.

Several survivors gasped. A child started crying. The sound echoed through the shelter.

Then… silence. A terrible silence. The kind that made your skin crawl.

Leon’s gaze shifted toward the rear hallway. Toward the back entrance. Toward whatever was outside. You saw the calculation happening. The decision-making. The weighing of options.

Finally, “Fine.”

You blinked.

“What?”

“You come with me.”

You blinked again. Because that had worked far better than expected. Leon’s expression immediately soured.

“Don’t make me regret it.”

“Too late.”

“You are exhausting.”

“So I’ve been told.”

Another crash. Much closer. Whatever was outside had stopped being patient. Leon checked his magazine. You instinctively checked yours. The motion felt strange. Familiar. Comforting. Terrifying. All at once.

For a brief second, Leon watched you. Not the way he usually did. Not like a rookie. Not like a liability.

Checking your grip. Checking your stance. Checking your readiness. Assessing. Then he nodded once. Small. Simple. But meaningful.

“Stay on my left.”

Your stomach immediately flipped. Because that wasn’t an order given to someone being protected. That was an order given to someone being trusted. At least a little.

Another impact. The rear wall shook. Dust drifted from the ceiling. Somewhere behind the shelter, something growled. Low. Deep. Wrong. The sound sent a chill through every person in the room.

Leon raised his weapon. You did the same.

And together, the two of you started toward the back of the building.

The hallway to the back of the shelter felt longer than it should have. Every step echoed too loudly. Every shadow felt too close. Leon moved first. Always first. You stayed just off his left shoulder like he’d told yo, close enough to see his movements, far enough not to interfere.

The scraping came again. Right above you. The ceiling vibrated slightly. Dust drifted down in thin streams.

“Vent?” you whispered. Leon didn’t look back.

“Back wall.”

Another impact hit. Harder. Something outside wasn’t just testing the structure anymore. It was committing. The metal frame groaned. A sound like bending bones.

Several survivors shouted from the main room behind you. Someone screamed Leon’s name. He didn’t respond. Didn’t slow down. The back exit came into view. Barricaded. Reinforced. Imperfect.

Leon raised a hand. You stopped immediately. He tilted his head slightly, listening.

A pause.

Then, a soft, wet dragging sound on the other side of the wall. You swallowed.

“Tell me that’s pipes,” you whispered. Leon exhaled through his nose.

“It’s not.”

The wall buckled. Once. Twice. A loud crack split through the wood. Something had found a weak point. Leon moved instantly.

“Left side.”

You reacted without thinking. Sliding into position. Covering the angle he wasn’t watching. The wall burst inward. Wood exploded across the hallway. Cold air slammed into the shelter.

And with it, something moved. Fast. Too fast to fully see at first. A shape forced its way through the opening, scraping metal and bone against the frame.

Leon fired immediately. One shot. Two. The sound was deafening in the tight space. You flinched, but stayed up. Didn’t freeze. Didn’t hesitate.

You saw movement on the right side of the breach. A second shape trying to follow.

“Right!” you shouted. Leon pivoted without looking. Trusting you. That realization hit harder than the situation. He trusted your call. A burst of gunfire filled the hallway.

The second shape recoiled back into the darkness outside. The first one pushed forward again. Not stopping. Not reacting like anything human. Leon stepped in front of you for half a second, then stopped. And shifted instead. Giving you the shot.

“Now,” he said.

One word. You fired. The recoil jolted your arms. The figure staggered back through the breach. Disappearing into the dark outside.

A silence followed. Heavy. Pressing. Then, a low, distorted sound came from beyond the wall. Not a roar. Not a scream. Something… assessing.

Leon held his weapon steady. His breathing was controlled. But you saw it. Just for a second. The shift in him. The calculation changing. Not survival mode. Something else. Acknowledgment.

“You hit it,” he said quietly.

“I think so,” you replied.

A beat. Another scrape from outside. Farther now. Repositioning.

Leon glanced at you. Quick. Sharp. Different from before.

“Good shot.”

It wasn’t praise. Not really. But it wasn’t nothing either. Before you could respond, the remaining structure groaned again. The creature outside hadn’t left. It was circling. Learning. Leon stepped closer to you, not to push you back, but to tighten formation.

“Stay with me,” he said. Not an order this time. A decision. And for the first time since this all started, you didn’t feel like you were being carried. You felt like you were being included.

Another impact hit the far side of the wall. Closer. Intentional. Leon adjusted his grip. You mirrored him. Two guns. One direction. Same target. Whatever was outside wasn’t done. And neither were you.

✧ Find next chapter here

✧ TAGLIST: Feel free to comment, leave an ask, or message me to be added to the tag list for this series!

@innocentcinnamonpun @pinkcatnight @probably--possessed @possums-things @fries11 @badbishsblog

[aelladrift]

THE COST OF SURVIVAL ✧ Leon S Kennedy

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

✧ Find previous chapter here

SUMMARY: You were trained to save lives, not to take them. Fresh out of training, your first assignment places you alongside Leon S. Kennedy during what should have been a routine outbreak investigation. Instead, the mission quickly descends into a nightmare of failed evacuations, impossible choices, and horrors neither of you are prepared to face. As the body count rises and the line between survival and sacrifice begins to blur, you’ll learn that every life saved comes at a cost…and some wounds refuse to heal long after the mission is over.

‼️ NSFW. Canon typical violence and depictions

✧ PAIRINGS: RE9! Leon S Kennedy x Gender Neutral! Rookie Medic! Reader

✧ The Cost of Survival Masterlist (updated!!!)

✧ My Resident Evil Masterlist

✧ Find me on AO3

💬 I will be participating in ArtFight this year! So my posting on here might slow down a little bit since I will be participating in that! That being said, I will totally still be relatively active, just most likely not writing as much! Find me on ArtFight if you'd like!

The shelter was silent. Not the tense silence of hiding. Not the fearful silence of waiting for something to attack. A listening silence. The kind that settled over a room when everyone knew they were about to hear something important.

Ethan sat on the edge of the cot you’d practically forced him into. Fresh bandages wrapped around his leg. A bottle of water rested forgotten in his hands. Leon leaned against the far wall nearby. Arms crossed. Watching. Listening. Waiting.

Outside, darkness still pressed against the boarded windows. But for the moment, everyone’s attention was inside. On Ethan.

“It started three weeks ago.”

His voice was quiet. Tired. The voice of someone reliving a nightmare.

“At first, nobody thought anything was wrong.”

The flashlight he’d carried sat on the floor beside him. Its beam extinguished. Its purpose fulfilled. For now.

“The facility wasn’t exactly unusual.”

A humorless laugh escaped him.

“Well. As normal as a secret underground laboratory can be.”

Nobody laughed. Ethan didn’t seem surprised.

“We were told we were working on pharmaceutical research.”

Leon’s eyebrows rose slightly.

“Told?”

“Need-to-know basis.”

Ethan shrugged.

“Different departments. Different projects. Different security clearances.”

His gaze drifted toward the floor.

“We all knew they weren’t telling us everything.” A pause. “But that wasn’t unusual either.”

You hated how believable that sounded. The survivors listened quietly. Some wrapped in blankets. Others sitting upright despite their exhaustion. Nobody wanted to sleep. Not yet. Not while answers were finally appearing.

“The first week was normal.”

Ethan rubbed at one eye.

“We worked.”

“We complained.”

“We drank too much coffee.”

That finally earned a small laugh from somewhere across the room. Even Leon looked mildly offended. Ethan pointed.

“See? You get it.”

Leon didn’t dignify that with a response. The shelter settled again. Ethan’s smile faded.

“The first person disappeared on a Tuesday.”

The room immediately became quieter.

“The facility had nearly four hundred employees.”

His fingers tightened around the water bottle.

“So one missing person didn’t seem strange.”

You already knew where this was going.

“People quit.”

He shrugged.

“People got transferred.”

“People disappeared into projects they weren’t allowed to talk about.”

His voice lowered.

“Nobody asked questions.”

The older woman frowned.

“What happened to them?”

Ethan swallowed.

“We found out later.”

The answer wasn’t comforting. The shelter seemed to realize that too.

“The second disappearance happened three days later.”

His gaze fixed somewhere far away. Lost in memory.

“Then another.”

“And another.”

The water bottle crinkled softly in his grip.

“Security started locking down sections of the facility.”

“Management stopped answering questions.”

His jaw tightened.

“The rumors started.”

“What kind of rumors?” you asked.

Ethan laughed. A nervous sound.

“Honestly?”

He looked around the room.

“At first everybody assumed it was an affair.”

The survivors blinked.

“What?”

“Seriously.”

Ethan nodded.

“We thought some executive was sleeping with the wrong person.”

The younger survivor barked out a laugh. Even you couldn’t help it. Because somehow that felt absurdly human. People vanishing from a secret laboratory and everyone immediately assuming workplace drama. Ethan shook his head.

“We were idiots.”

The humor vanished again. Just like that.

“Then we found the blood.”

The room fell silent. His eyes dropped toward the floor.

“Maintenance found it first.”

“A hallway between two research wings.”

You noticed Leon straighten slightly. Not much. Just enough. Paying closer attention.

“There wasn’t much.”

Ethan continued.

“A smear on the wall.”

“A trail leading toward an access door.”

The shelter seemed to hold its breath.

“What did security say?” someone asked.

Ethan’s smile returned. Small. Bitter.

“They said it was an accident.”

Nobody looked convinced. Neither had he.

“We wanted to believe them.”

His voice softened.

“We really did.”

Because believing the lie was easier. Safer. More comfortable. Everyone in the room understood that. Sometimes the truth was worse. Sometimes it was easier not to ask.

“The first death happened four days later.”

No laughter this time. No jokes. No interruptions. Just silence. Ethan looked exhausted. Like every word weighed something.

“A security officer.”

His gaze drifted toward Leon.

“Good guy.”

The words surprised you. Not because of what he said. Because of how he said it. Like he remembered the man’s name. Like he remembered the person. Not just the body.

“Everybody liked him.”

A pause.

“They found him in an elevator.”

The room remained completely still.

“What happened?”

Ethan stared at the floor. For several seconds, you thought he might not answer. Then quietly…

“They never officially told us.”

His fingers tightened around the bottle.

“But I saw the pictures.”

A chill crawled down your spine. Because the look on his face told you he still saw them too. Every night. Every time he closed his eyes. Ethan swallowed. Hard. Then continued.

“The next morning…”

His voice dropped.

“…Containment Level One went into lockdown.”

And suddenly every person in the shelter was leaning forward. Listening. Because whatever happened next, this was where the nightmare truly began. Nobody interrupted. Nobody moved. Even the children seemed quieter now. Ethan stared at the water bottle in his hands. Turning it slowly. Watching the plastic crinkle beneath his fingers. Like if he looked away from it, he’d be looking at the memories instead.

“…Containment Level One went into lockdown.”

The words hung heavily in the room. Leon finally spoke.

“What was in Level One?”

Ethan laughed. A short, humorless sound.

“That would’ve been nice to know.”

The answer earned a frown.

“We weren’t told.”

His shoulders lifted slightly.

“Nobody below executive clearance was told what any of the containment levels actually held.”

“Convenient,” Leon muttered.

Ethan nodded.

“Very.”

The shelter remained silent. Listening. Waiting.

“The official story was a chemical leak.”

The younger survivor immediately snorted.

“Nobody bought that, right?”

“Some people did.”

Ethan shrugged.

“People believe what they’re told when the alternative is worse.”

Nobody argued with that. Because everyone in this room had probably done the same thing at some point.

“The lockdown lasted three days.”

His eyes drifted toward the boarded windows. Toward the darkness outside.

“Security checkpoints appeared overnight.”

“Entire hallways were closed.”

“Research teams started disappearing into private meetings.”

His expression darkened.

“And then they stopped letting people leave.”

That got a reaction. Several survivors shifted uneasily.

“What do you mean?” you asked.

Ethan swallowed.

“Mandatory overtime.”

The bitterness in his voice was immediate.

“They told us the facility was handling a sensitive project.”

“They told us national security was involved.”

“They told us we’d all be compensated.”

A pause. Then, “They locked the exits.”

The room went quiet. Very quiet. You glanced toward Leon. His expression hadn’t changed. But something about him felt sharper now. More focused. Like he was already assembling the timeline in his head.

“How long?” he asked.

“About a week.”

Ethan rubbed his forehead.

“A week of rumors.”

“A week of lockdowns.”

“A week of people pretending everything was normal.”

The water bottle crinkled again. Harder this time.

“Then Level Two failed.”

Nobody breathed.

Ethan stared at the floor.

“They didn’t announce it.”

“They didn’t have to.”

His voice dropped lower.

“The alarms did.”

You could almost hear them. The distant sirens. The panic. The confusion. The beginning of the end.

“The entire facility went into emergency lockdown.”

“The blast doors closed.”

“The elevators stopped working.”

“The power started flickering.”

A little girl sitting near her grandmother pulled her blanket tighter. Even she seemed to understand this wasn’t a story with a happy ending.

“The first riots happened that night.”

Ethan laughed again. A hollow sound.

“Turns out people don’t react well to finding out they’re trapped underground.”

The understatement almost earned a smile. Almost.

“What happened?” you asked.

Ethan looked up. Directly at you. And for the first time, there was genuine shame in his eyes.

“We helped them.”

The answer surprised you.

“The rioters?”

He nodded.

“At first.”

His fingers tightened around the bottle.

“We thought management was hiding something.”

A pause.

“They were.”

Another pause.

“We just didn’t understand how bad it was.”

The room seemed to lean forward. Listening. Hanging on every word. Ethan stared somewhere far away. Lost in the memory.

“The security teams guarding Level Two were terrified.”

His voice had become quieter. More distant. Like he wasn’t speaking to the room anymore. Like he was back there. Back in those hallways.

“Not angry.”

“Not aggressive.”

“Terrified.”

You felt a chill crawl down your spine. Because trained security officers weren’t supposed to look terrified. Not unless something had gone very, very wrong.

“They wouldn’t tell us what was happening.”

Ethan swallowed.

“But they kept checking the cameras.”

His gaze shifted toward Leon.

“They weren’t guarding something.”

The room held its breath. Ethan’s voice became almost a whisper.

“They were waiting for it.”

Nobody moved. Nobody spoke. The silence stretched. Then, a loud creak echoed from somewhere inside the shelter. Half the room jumped. Including Ethan. His head snapped toward the sound. Breathing quickening. Eyes wide.

For a moment, he looked like he was expecting something to burst through the wall. The room remained still. Nothing happened. Just the building settling. Just old wood. Just stress.

Ethan slowly relaxed. Or tried to. The damage was already done. You’d seen it. Everyone had. The fear. Real fear. The kind that never fully left. The kind people carried with them long after the danger was gone. If the danger ever truly went away. Leon noticed too. Of course he did.

“When did you first see it?”

The question was quiet. Careful. Measured. Ethan froze. Immediately. The room became silent again. His eyes lowered. The water bottle crumpled slightly in his grip. For several seconds, nobody thought he was going to answer. Then finally, “The day Level Three failed.”

The words barely rose above a whisper. A cold feeling settled in your stomach. Because Ethan wasn’t telling the story anymore. Not really. Now he was approaching the part that haunted him. The part he still saw every time he closed his eyes. And judging by the look on his face, the worst was still coming.

“The day Level Three failed.”

Nobody spoke. The shelter seemed to hold its breath. Ethan’s gaze remained fixed on the floor. Somewhere far away. Somewhere only he could see.

“What happened?” you asked quietly.

For a moment, you thought he hadn’t heard you. Then he swallowed. Hard.

“The alarms started around noon.”

His voice sounded distant. Like he was reading from an old memory.

“At first everyone thought it was another drill.”

A bitter laugh escaped him.

“We’d had so many by that point that nobody really reacted anymore.”

The water bottle crinkled softly in his grip.

“Then the emergency shutters came down.”

Leon’s expression darkened. Ethan noticed.

“Yeah.”

The single word carried far more weight than it should have.

“That’s when people started getting nervous.”

The shelter remained silent. Listening.

“The intercom kept repeating the same message.”

His eyes closed briefly. As if he could still hear it.

“‘Remain at your assigned workstations.’”

“‘Security personnel are responding.’”

“‘Do not attempt to leave your designated areas.’”

A pause. Then, “Nobody listened.”

That wasn’t surprising. Not even a little. People rarely sat still when they thought something terrible was happening. Especially not in a place already drowning in rumors.

“The first crowd formed near one of the transit elevators.”

Ethan rubbed a hand across his face.

“There must’ve been fifty people.”

“Scientists.”

“Technicians.”

“Maintenance workers.”

“Security.”

His jaw tightened.

“Everybody wanted answers.”

You could practically picture it. A crowd gathering. Fear spreading. People demanding information. Someone shouting. Someone crying. The slow collapse of order.

“Then the power went out.”

A few survivors shifted uneasily. The image was easy to imagine. Too easy.

“Only for a few seconds.”

Ethan shook his head.

“But it felt longer.”

His voice lowered.

“The kind of darkness where you suddenly realize how deep underground you are.”

Nobody interrupted. Nobody wanted to.

“When the lights came back on…”

He stopped. The room grew quieter. You found yourself leaning forward. Waiting. Ethan stared at the water bottle. Turning it once. Twice. Three times.

“There were fewer people.”

The words sent a chill down your spine.

“What?”

The question came from one of the survivors. Ethan looked up. The fear had returned to his eyes. Raw. Unfiltered.

“There were fewer people.”

His voice shook.

“Not many.”

“Maybe three.”

“Maybe four.”

“But they were gone.”

The shelter fell silent. A terrible silence. Because everyone immediately understood what he meant.

“They just disappeared?”

Ethan nodded. Slowly.

“One second they were standing there.”

His gaze drifted. Lost again.

“The next…”

He swallowed.

“They weren’t.”

The room remained still. Nobody knew what to say. Because there wasn’t anything to say. The explanation didn’t make sense. The memory clearly didn’t make sense to Ethan either.

“People started screaming.”

His voice became quieter.

“Somebody started running.”

“Then somebody else.”

“Then everyone.”

Fear was contagious. Everybody knew that. One person panicked. Then ten. Then fifty. Then a hundred. And suddenly nobody was thinking anymore. Only reacting.

“I got separated from my department.”

A small shrug.

“I never saw most of them again.”

The statement landed heavily. Not dramatic. Not emotional. Just honest. And somehow that made it worse. Ethan stared at the floor.

“I ended up near one of the observation wings.”

Leon’s eyes narrowed slightly. Observation wing. Interesting. Ethan noticed. Immediately.

“Yeah.”

A humorless smile appeared.

“That should’ve been my first clue.”

“What was being observed?” Leon asked.

“I don’t know.”

The answer came quickly. Too quickly. Like he’d been asked before. Like he’d asked himself. A thousand times.

“I still don’t know.”

His fingers tightened around the bottle.

“But I know what I saw.”

The room became very still. Even the volunteers near the door seemed frozen. Waiting. Listening. Ethan looked toward the boarded windows. Toward the darkness outside. Then back toward the floor. His voice barely rose above a whisper.

“There was something in the corridor.”

Nobody breathed. Nobody moved. Ethan shook his head immediately.

“No.”

The correction came before anyone could ask. “Not in the corridor.”

A pause.

“Moving through it.”

The fear in his voice made your stomach tighten.

“I only saw it for a second.”

His gaze remained fixed somewhere far away.

“A shadow.”

“A shape.”

“Something crossing between the emergency lights.”

The shelter remained silent. Because nobody wanted details. Not really. They wanted certainty. And Ethan clearly didn’t have any.

“I remember thinking it looked wrong.”

His jaw tightened.

“The proportions.”

“The way it moved.”

“The way everyone reacted.”

A pause.

“People don’t run like that unless they know they’re about to die.”

The room seemed colder. Smaller. You glanced toward Leon. His expression hadn’t changed. But he was paying very close attention now. The kind of attention that meant every detail mattered. Every word. Every hesitation. Every memory. Ethan finally exhaled. Long and slow.

“The next hour was chaos.”

His shoulders slumped. Exhaustion creeping back into his voice.

“Gunshots.”

“Alarms.”

“People running.”

“People disappearing.”

His eyes closed briefly.

“And then…”

The water bottle crumpled slightly in his grip.

“…Containment Level Four went dark.”

This time nobody interrupted. Nobody asked questions. Because the look on Ethan’s face said everything. Whatever happened next was the part that still kept him awake at night.

The room remained silent. Nobody rushed him. Nobody pushed. Even Leon stayed quiet. Waiting. Listening. Letting Ethan reach the end of the story in his own time. The water bottle crackled softly beneath his fingers. The sound seemed impossibly loud in the shelter.

"...Containment Level Four went dark."

Ethan stared at the floor. For a moment, you wondered if that was where the story ended. Not because there wasn't more. Because there was. You could see it in his eyes. The memories. The fear. The things he wished he could forget. Finally, he exhaled.

"The alarms stopped."

That caught everyone off guard.

"What?" one of the survivors asked.

Ethan nodded.

"Everything stopped."

His voice was distant. Lost in the memory.

"The emergency broadcasts."

"The warnings."

"The lockdown notices."

"All of it."

A pause.

"The entire facility just..."

He searched for the word.

"...went quiet."

A chill crawled down your spine. Because silence was never a good sign. Not in places like that. Not after everything that had happened.

"Nobody knew what was going on."

Ethan continued.

"People were trapped all over the facility."

"Security teams stopped responding."

"The cameras went offline."

His grip tightened.

"And then the doors opened."

The room tensed. Every survivor listening. Every pair of eyes fixed on him.

"The blast doors."

"The containment doors."

"The security checkpoints."

His voice dropped lower. "They all unlocked."

Nobody spoke. Nobody needed to. Everyone understood. Something had failed. Or someone had made it fail.

"We thought it was good news."

A humorless laugh escaped him.

"God, we were stupid."

You didn't think they were. You thought they were scared. Desperate. Human. But you didn't interrupt.

"We started moving."

He swallowed.

"Trying to reach the surface."

"Trying to find answers."

His gaze drifted toward the boarded windows. Toward the darkness outside.

"We found bodies."

The shelter grew still.

"Lots of them."

His voice remained steady. Almost too steady. Like he'd repeated this story to himself a thousand times already.

"Security officers."

"Researchers."

"People I knew."

A pause.

"People I had lunch with."

That landed harder than anything else. Not nameless victims. Not statistics. People. Friends. Coworkers. Lives. Gone.

"We kept hearing things."

Ethan's jaw tightened.

"Movement."

"Footsteps."

"Metal scraping."

His eyes lowered.

"And every time we went looking..."

A pause.

"...nothing was there."

The room seemed to lean forward. Hanging on every word. Ethan looked exhausted. Like reliving this was draining whatever energy he had left.

"There were maybe twenty of us by then."

"Maybe less."

He shook his head.

"I'm not sure anymore."

The numbers probably blurred together. The fear. The exhaustion. The panic. It all blended eventually.

"We reached one of the upper transit tunnels."

His voice softened.

"We thought we'd made it."

You already knew they hadn't. The look on his face told you that much.

"There was an elevator."

A small smile appeared. Broken and sad.

"And people actually started celebrating."

Nobody in the shelter smiled back. Because everyone knew what came next.

"They opened the doors."

The smile vanished.

"And there was nobody inside."

A pause.

"The elevator was empty."

Another pause.

"It shouldn't have been."

You felt your stomach drop. Ethan noticed.

"So did we."

His gaze remained fixed on the floor.

"The elevator had been moving."

The room grew colder.

"It had stopped on multiple levels."

His voice became quieter.

"But nobody ever got off."

Nobody breathed. Nobody moved. Ethan stared at the water bottle. At his hands. Anywhere except the faces looking back at him.

"We never figured that part out."

The admission sounded genuine. Honest. Terrified.

"There were a lot of things we never figured out."

The shelter remained silent. Outside, the wind rattled faintly against the barricades. The sound made several survivors jump. Including Ethan. His eyes briefly darted toward the door. Then back down.

"Eventually we reached the surface."

The words brought a tiny amount of relief. Tiny.

"We thought we were safe."

A humorless laugh escaped him. Again.

"We really needed to stop thinking that."

You found yourself holding your breath. Waiting. Knowing the ending was close.

"The town was already falling apart."

His voice dropped.

"People were getting sick."

"Violent."

"Confused."

"The infected were everywhere."

A pause.

"Nobody understood why."

Leon finally spoke. Quietly.

"The facility."

Ethan nodded.

"The facility."

A simple answer. A devastating one.

"The outbreak had already started spreading."

His shoulders slumped.

"And we brought it with us."

The guilt in his voice was impossible to miss. You saw several survivors glance at one another. Nobody blamed him. At least not openly. But Ethan clearly blamed himself enough for everyone.

"We split up."

He continued.

"Some people tried to reach the highway."

"Some tried to contact rescue teams."

"Some went looking for family."

His eyes lowered.

"I never saw any of them again."

The statement settled heavily over the room. A final grave marker. A final goodbye. Silence followed. Long. Heavy. Exhausted. Then Leon broke it.

"The creature."

Ethan froze. Immediately. The room noticed. So did you. His grip tightened around the bottle. The plastic crumpling beneath his fingers.

"You said it escaped."

A pause.

"You said it killed the facility."

Leon held his gaze.

"What is it?"

The question hung in the air. For several seconds, Ethan didn't answer.

Then finally, "I don't know."

Nobody believed him. Not completely. Not even Ethan. His eyes closed briefly.

"I don't know what they called it."

The correction came quietly. Carefully. Fearfully. The room remained still. Listening. Waiting.

Ethan swallowed. Hard. Then looked up. Directly at Leon.

"The only thing I know..."

His voice was barely above a whisper.

"...is that every person who saw it up close died."

The shelter fell silent. Completely silent. No jokes. No interruptions. No nervous laughter. Nothing. Ethan's gaze drifted toward the boarded windows. Toward the darkness beyond them. Toward whatever nightmare still stalked the town. And when he spoke again, his voice carried a certainty that chilled everyone in the room.

"It isn't trapped down there anymore."

A distant thump echoed somewhere outside. The entire shelter froze. Nobody moved. Nobody spoke. Because for the first time since Ethan arrived, the story was over. And the nightmare was still outside.

✧ Find next chapter here

✧ TAGLIST: Feel free to comment, leave an ask, or message me to be added to the tag list for this series!

@innocentcinnamonpun @pinkcatnight @probably--possessed @possums-things @fries11 @badbishsblog

[aelladrift]

THE COST OF SURVIVAL ✧ Leon S Kennedy

CHAPTER TWELVE

✧ Find previous chapter here

SUMMARY: You were trained to save lives, not to take them. Fresh out of training, your first assignment places you alongside Leon S. Kennedy during what should have been a routine outbreak investigation. Instead, the mission quickly descends into a nightmare of failed evacuations, impossible choices, and horrors neither of you are prepared to face. As the body count rises and the line between survival and sacrifice begins to blur, you’ll learn that every life saved comes at a cost…and some wounds refuse to heal long after the mission is over.

‼️ NSFW. Canon typical violence and depictions

✧ PAIRINGS: RE9! Leon S Kennedy x Gender Neutral! Rookie Medic! Reader

✧ The Cost of Survival Masterlist (updated!!!)

✧ My Resident Evil Masterlist

✧ Find me on AO3

💬 I will be participating in ArtFight this year! So my posting on here might slow down a little bit since I will be participating in that! That being said, I will totally still be relatively active, just most likely not writing as much! Find me on ArtFight if you'd like!

Nobody spoke for several seconds. The distant scream still echoed in your mind. Abrupt. Cut off. Wrong. You’d heard fear before. Panic. Pain. That had been something else.

Beside you, Leon’s attention never left Ethan. The veteran agent had gone completely still. You were beginning to learn that was rarely a good sign.

“What facility?” Leon asked.

The question was calm. Too calm. Ethan laughed weakly.

“You’re really not going to let that go, huh?”

“No.”

“Fair.”

The flashlight shook slightly in his hand. Exhaustion was catching up with him. Now that he was closer, you could see it clearly. The dark circles beneath his eyes. The dried blood on his clothes. The way he favored one leg. The fact that he looked one strong breeze away from collapsing. Your medic instincts immediately started screaming.

Ethan pointed vaguely toward the northern edge of town.

“Outside the city limits.”

“Research site?”

He nodded.

“Underground.”

Of course it was underground. You were beginning to suspect evil corporations had an allergy to natural sunlight. Ethan actually smiled. A tired, humorless smile.

“Yeah.”

Leon’s expression suggested he wasn’t interested in jokes at the moment.

“What were you studying?”

The smile disappeared. Immediately.  You noticed. So did Leon. And suddenly everyone seemed much more interested in the answer.

Ethan looked away. Toward the darkness. Toward the road behind him. Like he expected something to emerge from it. Finally…

“I don’t know.”

The answer caught everyone off guard. Leon frowned.

“You worked there.”

“I know.”

“So you knew what they were doing.”

Ethan shook his head.

“No.”

The word came quickly. Almost defensive.

“They kept departments separated.”

His voice dropped.

“We only saw our section.”

That sounded believable. Unfortunately, it wasn’t comforting. Because if Ethan only knew part of the picture… Then whatever happened down there might be far worse than he realized.

The shelter door creaked behind you. A few of the survivors had cautiously stepped outside. Not far. Just enough to listen. Just enough to hear. Just enough to hope. Because hope was difficult to kill. Even here. Especially here.

Ethan finally looked toward them. The families. The children. The exhausted civilians. The people trying desperately to survive. Something changed in his expression. Guilt. Raw and immediate. You recognized it instantly. The look of someone who thought they should have done more. Should have stopped something. Should have seen something. Should have saved someone.

“You need to get them out.”

The words came quietly. Nobody moved. Nobody interrupted.

“You need to leave this town.”

The younger survivor shook his head.

“Roads are blocked.”

“We know.”

“The infected are everywhere.”

“We know.”

“We barely survived getting here.”

Ethan closed his eyes. Like hearing it spoken aloud physically hurt. When he opened them again, his gaze landed on Leon.

“You don’t understand.”

That got everyone’s attention. Because fear had returned to his voice. Real fear. The kind that made your skin crawl.

“The infected aren’t the problem.”

The words landed heavily. You felt your stomach drop. Again. Every time this man spoke, things somehow became worse.

“What escaped?” Leon asked.

Ethan swallowed. Hard. The flashlight lowered slightly. His hand trembling. And for a moment, you thought he wasn’t going to answer. Then…

“There were four containment levels.”

The night suddenly felt very quiet.

“Level One failed first.”

His eyes remained fixed on the ground.

“Then Level Two.”

A pause.

“Then Three.”

Nobody breathed. Nobody moved. Because everyone knew where this was going. Ethan’s voice became almost a whisper.

“Level Four never opened.”

The statement hung in the air. You frowned.

“Then how did it escape?”

The question left your mouth before you could stop it. Ethan looked up. And the expression on his face made your blood run cold. Because he looked confused. Terrified. Lost. Like he’d been asking himself the same question for days.

“I don’t know.”

The answer sounded genuine. That somehow made it worse. Because if the people working there didn’t understand what happened, how was anyone else supposed to?

A distant crash echoed somewhere across town. Everyone jumped. Including Ethan. The reaction was immediate. Violent. His flashlight nearly slipped from his hand. His breathing quickened. His eyes darted toward the sound. For a split second, he looked less like a researcher and more like prey.

Leon noticed. Of course he did. His gaze narrowed. Studying. Observing. Cataloging.

“You’ve seen it.”

The statement wasn’t a question. Ethan froze. Silence. A terrible silence. Then slowly, he nodded. Just once. The color drained from your face. The survivors looked equally horrified. Because hearing something escaped was one thing. Knowing someone had actually seen it was another. Leon remained calm.

“Describe it.”

“No.”

The response came immediately. Too immediately. Ethan’s breathing became uneven.

“No.”

“Ethan.”

“No.”

The flashlight trembled harder. His eyes fixed somewhere far away. Not on the street. Not on Leon. Not on any of you. Something remembered. Something relived. A nightmare replaying behind his eyes.

“Ethan.”

Leon stepped forward. Gentle. Careful. The same tone he used with frightened civilians. With witnesses. With people on the edge.

“What did you see?”

For several seconds, nobody spoke. Then finally…

“It wasn’t hunting.”

The answer barely rose above a whisper. The entire group went silent. Ethan’s voice shook.

“It wasn’t feeding.”

His grip tightened on the flashlight.

“It wasn’t acting like an animal.”

Every instinct in your body screamed. Because you already knew what he was about to say. You just didn’t want to hear it. Ethan looked up. And for the first time since meeting him, he looked genuinely terrified.

“It knew we were there.”

The words hit like a punch. The survivors froze. You froze. Even Leon’s expression hardened.

Because monsters were one thing. Mutants were one thing. Bioweapons were one thing. But intelligence? That changed everything.

Ethan stared into the darkness behind all of you. His voice barely audible.

“It was looking for us.”

And somewhere far beyond the town, a deep, distant roar rolled through the night. Not close. Not yet. But close enough. Every person present heard it. And every person present knew the same thing. Whatever had escaped… Was still alive.

The roar faded into silence. Nobody moved. Nobody spoke. The sound had come from far away. Yet somehow it felt close enough to touch. A reminder. A warning. A promise. Whatever had escaped was still out there. And it was awake.

Ethan looked sick. The flashlight trembled in his hand. You weren’t sure if it was from exhaustion or fear anymore. Maybe both. Leon finally broke the silence.

“Inside.”

The single word snapped everyone back to reality. The survivors immediately began moving. Nobody argued. Nobody hesitated. Because if Leon Kennedy suddenly wanted everyone indoors, that was probably a good sign to listen.

The shelter door shut behind the group. Barricades were pushed back into place. Furniture scraped across the floor. Locks clicked. The building felt smaller than before. Like the walls had somehow moved closer. Ethan stood near the entrance. Looking uncomfortable. Looking uncertain. Looking like he wasn’t entirely convinced walls could stop whatever was out there. Honestly? You weren’t sure they could either.

Leon motioned toward a nearby chair.

“Sit.”

Ethan immediately obeyed. You noticed. Most people argued with Leon. This man looked relieved to be told what to do. The flashlight slipped from his fingers and rolled onto the floor. Neither of you missed the way his hands were shaking. You stepped forward. Medic instincts already taking over.

“You’re hurt.”

Ethan blinked. As if he’d forgotten.

“Oh.”

He glanced down.

“Yeah.”

There was dried blood on his pant leg. More than dried. Fresh too. Dark stains running down his calf. Your stomach tightened.

“How long ago?”

Ethan followed your gaze.

“Oh.”

Again with the oh. You were beginning to hate that word.

“A while.”

“Define a while.”

His expression suggested he was trying to do math. That wasn’t encouraging.

“Yesterday?”

You stared. Leon stared. The shelter stared.

“Yesterday?”

Ethan pointed weakly.

“In my defense, things got busy.”

You felt a headache forming. Beside you, Leon actually closed his eyes for a second. The universal reaction of someone witnessing another terrible patient. You pointed toward a cot.

“Sit.”

“I’m already sitting.”

“Good.”

You immediately started gathering supplies. Bandages. Disinfectant. Fresh water. The usual.

Ethan watched you work. Then glanced toward Leon. Then back toward you. Then back toward Leon again. His eyes narrowed slightly. You noticed. Leon noticed. Neither of you liked it.

“What?”

Ethan immediately looked innocent. Which somehow made him look guiltier.

“Nothing.”

A pause.

“You two know you’re doing that thing, right?”

 Your hand froze.

Leon frowned.

“What thing?”

Ethan gestured vaguely between the two of you.

“The thing.”

Helpful.

“What thing?” Leon repeated.

“The married-couple argument thing.”

The room exploded. Not literally. But close. Several survivors immediately choked on their own laughter. The older woman from earlier looked delighted. Absolutely delighted. You nearly dropped the medical supplies.

“What?”

Ethan pointed.

“You.”

Then at Leon.

“You.”

Then both of you.

“The thing.”

“We are not—”

“We just met.”

The responses came simultaneously. Ethan immediately pointed again.

“There.”

You wanted the floor to swallow you whole. The younger survivor laughed so hard he nearly fell off his chair. Leon looked personally betrayed by the entire shelter. The older woman patted Ethan’s shoulder.

“Thank you.”

Ethan nodded solemnly.

“Happy to help.”

“You are absolutely not helping.”

The words left your mouth before you could stop them. Which only made everyone laugh harder. Even Leon looked like he was fighting a losing battle. A small smile threatened to appear. Then vanished. Because of course it did. The moment passed. The laughter faded. And for the first time in hours, the shelter felt almost normal. Almost.

You focused on Ethan’s injury. Cleaning the wound carefully. Inspecting the damage. Nothing infected. Nothing life-threatening. Thankfully. Still painful though. Ethan winced.

“Ow.”

“Good.”

“Good?”

“It means you’re alive.”

He considered that.

“Fair.”

The room gradually settled again. Conversations became quieter. The survivors returned to their cots. Exhaustion catching up with everyone. Including you. Including Leon. Including Ethan. The adrenaline was fading. Leaving only fatigue behind.

For a few minutes, the shelter was peaceful. Or as peaceful as it could be. Then Leon spoke.

“Start from the beginning.”

The room quieted instantly. His gaze remained fixed on Ethan. Focused. Sharp. Professional.

“The facility.”

Ethan’s smile disappeared. Immediately.

“You said four containment levels.”

The flashlight-holder swallowed. The fear returned. Just like that.

“Yeah.”

“Tell me everything.”

The shelter became silent. You stopped what you were doing. The survivors looked over. Even the children seemed quieter. Because everyone understood something important. The jokes were over. The real story was about to begin. 

Ethan looked toward the boarded windows. Toward the darkness beyond them. Toward whatever nightmare still roamed the town. Then he took a slow breath. And began talking.

“It started three weeks ago.”

The entire room listened. And for the first time since arriving in town, you finally started learning how this nightmare began.

✧ Find next chapter here

✧ TAGLIST: Feel free to comment, leave an ask, or message me to be added to the tag list for this series!

@innocentcinnamonpun @pinkcatnight @probably--possessed @possums-things @fries11 @badbishsblog

[aelladrift]

THE COST OF SURVIVAL ✧ Leon S Kennedy

CHAPTER ELEVEN

✧ Find previous chapter here

SUMMARY: You were trained to save lives, not to take them. Fresh out of training, your first assignment places you alongside Leon S. Kennedy during what should have been a routine outbreak investigation. Instead, the mission quickly descends into a nightmare of failed evacuations, impossible choices, and horrors neither of you are prepared to face. As the body count rises and the line between survival and sacrifice begins to blur, you’ll learn that every life saved comes at a cost…and some wounds refuse to heal long after the mission is over.

‼️ NSFW. Canon typical violence and depictions

✧ PAIRINGS: RE9! Leon S Kennedy x Gender Neutral! Rookie Medic! Reader

✧ The Cost of Survival Masterlist (updated!!!)

✧ My Resident Evil Masterlist

✧ Find me on AO3

💬 I will be participating in ArtFight this year! So my posting on here might slow down a little bit since I will be participating in that! That being said, I will totally still be relatively active, just most likely not writing as much! Find me on ArtFight if you'd like!

“You are not going alone.”

The words left your mouth before you could reconsider them. Leon looked exactly as unimpressed as expected.

“No.”

“You didn’t even think about it.”

“I did.”

“For how long?”

“About half a second.”

You threw your hands up. The survivors had officially stopped pretending not to listen. Every single one of them was watching now. The younger man from earlier looked invested. The older woman looked entertained. Traitors. Leon adjusted the strap of his holster.

“You’re staying here.”

“I’m part of this mission.”

“You’re a medic.”

“You keep saying that like it’s a weakness.”

That made him pause. Only briefly. But enough for you to notice. Because that wasn’t what he meant. Not really. You both knew it.

The issue wasn’t that you were a medic. The issue was that he didn’t want you outside. Which was somehow more annoying.

“You have civilians to look after.”

“So do you.”

“I can handle both.”

The confidence in that statement was ridiculous. Unfortunately, it was probably earned. Before the argument could continue, the flashlight outside shifted again. The beam bounced off a storefront. Then another. Still there. Still waiting. Still not approaching. Leon immediately refocused. Business replacing irritation.

“We’re wasting time.”

“Then let me come.”

“No.”

“Leon.”

“No.”

“Leon.”

“No.”

The older woman cleared her throat. Both of you looked over. She pointed at Leon.

“You’re impossible.”

Then she pointed at you.

“So are you.”

The room erupted into quiet laughter. Even in the middle of a nightmare. Even after everything. Somehow the comment landed. Leon rubbed a hand across his face. Tired. Very tired. You were starting to notice the signs. The stiffness in his shoulders. The slight drag in his movements. The exhaustion hiding beneath pure stubbornness. The nap had helped. A little. Not enough. It would never be enough. Not with the way he lived.

Finally, Leon looked toward one of the volunteers.

“You.”

The man immediately straightened.

“Sir?”

“Can you keep watch?”

The volunteer nodded.

“Yeah.”

Leon looked around the shelter. Checking exits. Checking survivors. Checking barricades. Calculating. Always calculating. Then his gaze returned to you. You recognized the look immediately. The one that meant he was considering something he didn’t like. Which usually meant you were winning. Slowly. Painfully. Winning.

“You stay behind me.”

Your eyebrows rose. Leon pointed a finger. Immediately.

“Behind me.”

A second finger joined the first.

“You do exactly what I say.”

You opened your mouth.

“No arguments.”

You closed it again. The man knew you too well already.

“You see something weird—”

“Everything here is weird.”

His expression flattened. You wisely stopped talking.

“If I tell you to run, you run.”

The room grew quieter. The joking atmosphere evaporating. Because suddenly the reality of what you were discussing settled over everyone. This wasn’t an errand. This wasn’t a patrol. This was dangerous. Maybe very dangerous. The flashlight outside remained visible through the barricades. Patient. Waiting. Leon finally nodded.

“Understood?”

You hated how serious he sounded. You hated that it made your stomach tighten. Still. You nodded.

“Understood.”

The tension in his shoulders eased. Just slightly. Like he’d expected a fight. Like he’d expected you to argue. Again. To be fair, you had. Repeatedly.

The survivors began moving. Making room. Preparing the entrance. One of the volunteers carefully shifted part of the barricade. The heavy furniture scraped against the floor. The sound seemed deafening. Outside, the flashlight immediately moved. The person carrying it had noticed. A voice called out.

“Hello?”

Definitely human. Definitely nervous.

“Please don’t shoot me.”

The shelter froze. You stared. Leon stared. The voice continued.

“I feel like I should lead with that.”

A pause. Then…

“I am very shootable-looking right now.”

The younger survivor immediately laughed. A genuine laugh. The first one you’d heard in hours. Even Leon’s expression twitched. Just a little. Because honestly? That was not what either of you had expected. The flashlight bobbed again.

“I can hear people in there.”

The voice sounded exhausted.

“Which is good.”

A pause.

“Unless I’m hallucinating.”

Another pause.

“…which is also a possibility.”

You glanced toward Leon. He was already moving. Weapon drawn. Flashlight ready. Professional once more. Every trace of humor gone.

“Stay close.”

The words were quiet. Automatic. Instinctive. And before you could respond, Leon was already pushing open the shelter door.

Cold air immediately flooded inside. The darkness beyond felt endless. The town stretched out before you. Silent. Waiting. Watching.

The flashlight in the distance shifted. Its owner finally realizing someone was coming. And for the first time all night, the mysterious stranger began walking toward you. The stranger was limping. That was the first thing you noticed. Not the flashlight. Not the backpack slung over one shoulder. Not the fact that they looked like they’d been dragged through every disaster this town had to offer.

The limp. Uneven. Painful. Recent. The figure took another step into the faint glow spilling from the shelter doorway. Then another. And promptly stumbled.

“Whoa—”

They caught themselves on a nearby car. The flashlight beam swung wildly.

“Okay.”

A pause.

“That was almost really embarrassing.”

Leon lowered his weapon. Not completely. Just enough. Which, considering the circumstances, was probably the closest thing to trust this person was getting. The stranger finally reached a comfortable talking distance and stopped. For a moment, nobody said anything. The newcomer blinked at both of you. Then at Leon. Then at you. Then back at Leon.

“…you look exactly like your file photo.”

You froze. Leon froze. The stranger immediately pointed.

“Him!”

They looked at you.

“See? That’s what I was afraid of.”

“What?”

“The government stare.”

“The what?”

“The look.”

The stranger gestured vaguely.

“The one that says you’re about three seconds away from asking twenty-seven questions.”

Leon sighed. The sound of a man already regretting this interaction.

“Who are you?”

“There it is.”

The stranger pointed again.

“Question one.”

Leon’s expression flattened.

“Name.”

The stranger straightened. Or at least attempted to.

“I’m Ethan Cross.”

A beat.

“Research technician.”

Another beat.

“Former research technician.”

You and Leon exchanged a look. Neither of you liked that title. Not in a town suffering from a mysterious outbreak. Not even a little. Apparently Ethan noticed.

“See, that’s fair.”

His shoulders slumped.

“That’s a fair reaction.”

Leon finally stepped forward.

“You work for who?”

Ethan immediately winced.

“That’s a much worse question.”

“Answer it.”

The flashlight lowered slightly. For the first time, the man’s humor faltered. Fear replacing it. Real fear. The kind that couldn’t be hidden behind jokes.

“They’re dead.”

The answer came quietly. The night seemed to grow colder. Leon didn’t react. At least outwardly. But you noticed the way his jaw tightened. The way his posture shifted. The subtle signs.

“They’re all dead.”

Ethan swallowed.

“Everyone at the facility.”

Your stomach dropped. Facility. Of course there was a facility. There was always a facility. Because apparently evil corporations couldn’t resist building nightmare laboratories underneath random towns. Leon spoke carefully.

“What facility?”

Ethan laughed. Not because anything was funny. The laugh of somebody stretched far beyond their breaking point.

“Right.”

His eyes drifted toward the dark streets. Toward the town. Toward whatever horrors were hiding inside it.

“You don’t know yet.”

The way he said it made every alarm bell in your head start ringing. Leon must have felt the same way. Because his expression darkened immediately.

“What don’t we know?”

The flashlight trembled slightly in Ethan’s hand. Exhaustion. Fear. Or both.

“The outbreak.”

His voice dropped.

“You think this is the outbreak.”

The silence that followed was deafening. A cold feeling settled in your stomach. Because you suddenly realized what he meant. Not what he was saying. What he was implying. The infected. The monster. The evacuation failure. The quarantines. The deaths.

That wasn’t the whole problem. That was the symptom. Ethan looked between you and Leon. Then toward the shelter. Toward the civilians hiding inside. The families. The survivors. The people you’d spent all night trying to protect. When he spoke again, his voice was barely above a whisper.

“Whatever escaped…”

He swallowed hard.

“…it isn’t supposed to be here.”

Nobody moved. Nobody spoke. Even the wind seemed to disappear. Leon finally broke the silence.

“What escaped?”

Ethan’s gaze met his. For the first time since meeting him, every trace of humor vanished completely. No jokes. No sarcasm. No nervous laughter. Just fear. Pure fear. And somehow that was worse. Because people who lived through nightmares learned when to stop joking.

“The thing that killed the facility.”

The answer landed like a gunshot. You felt your pulse quicken. Beside you, Leon remained perfectly still. The veteran agent processing the information. Building a picture. Finding the holes. Finding the truth. Then, a distant scream echoed somewhere across town. Everyone froze. The sound lasted only a few seconds. Then stopped. Abruptly. Violently. Silence returned.

Ethan closed his eyes. The expression on his face said he’d heard sounds like that before. Too many times. Slowly, he looked toward the dark streets. Then back toward Leon.

“We don’t have much time.”

And suddenly the flashlight didn’t seem nearly as important anymore.

✧ Find next chapter here

✧ TAGLIST: Feel free to comment, leave an ask, or message me to be added to the tag list for this series!

@innocentcinnamonpun @pinkcatnight @probably--possessed @possums-things @fries11 @badbishsblog

[ohangeleyes]

alright, i'll be the one to say it. ao3 and tumblr becoming "mainstream" did so much damage to the community and the writers. i have seen loads of videos and posts about:

1. people hating on writers and fics. writing is something we do for free and for fun. if you stumble upon a fanfic that isn't necessarily your cup of tea or you just don't like, scroll. dont read it. literally leave their page. you don't know if this could be the author's first work that they're so excited about, you dont know if the language they're writing in isn't their first language, you dont know that the writer could be a literal teen and loads of other reasons. fanfictions don't HAVE to be perfect. you write what you want to write because we do it for fun and enjoyment and we want to share that to the world. seriously, what is the wrong with that?..

2. x reader consumers getting WAY too entitled. the number of tiktoks i've seen that say "i run a strict program when it comes to reading fanfics." girl you aint running shit. this is FAN FICTION you're reading. F A N F I C T I O N. there is no denying that most fanfiction writes are beyond talented but just because you read one fanfic that exceeds your expectations doesn't give you the right to talk down on others that don't. people have their own personal writing style, their way of doing things and you talking shit on that isn't right.

at the end of the day, we are all humans, reading and writing is what we do and what we're meant to do. and for you to talk shit about a person WRITING is so insane. we are humans. not some robots that you can tell what to do so you can consume it.

i've seen so so many authors take down their fanfics and losing all motivation to write because of a hate comment. DONT LIKE DONT READ‼️

and to every author reading this, this community values your work and your contribution. we love u and, please, never let anyone's negative words have an effect on you.

[aelladrift]

THE COST OF SURVIVAL ✧ Leon S Kennedy

CHAPTER TEN

✧ Find previous chapter here

SUMMARY: You were trained to save lives, not to take them. Fresh out of training, your first assignment places you alongside Leon S. Kennedy during what should have been a routine outbreak investigation. Instead, the mission quickly descends into a nightmare of failed evacuations, impossible choices, and horrors neither of you are prepared to face. As the body count rises and the line between survival and sacrifice begins to blur, you’ll learn that every life saved comes at a cost…and some wounds refuse to heal long after the mission is over.

‼️ NSFW. Canon typical violence and depictions

✧ PAIRINGS: RE9! Leon S Kennedy x Gender Neutral! Rookie Medic! Reader

✧ The Cost of Survival Masterlist

✧ My Resident Evil Masterlist

✧ Find me on AO3

💬 I will be participating in ArtFight this year! So my posting on here might slow down a little bit since I will be participating in that! That being said, I will totally still be relatively active, just most likely not writing as much! Find me on ArtFight if you'd like!

At first, you thought you were imagining it. A trick of tired eyes. A reflection. A distant star peeking through the clouds. Something. Anything. Because the alternative was that there was actually a light moving through the darkness outside. And you really didn’t want that to be true.

You rubbed at your eyes. Looked again. The light remained. Small. Faint. Far away. But there. A tiny flicker against the horizon. The rest of the town remained swallowed by darkness. Most of the streetlights had long since failed. The buildings stood silent. Empty. Dead.

Yet somehow, somewhere, something was producing light.

You shifted closer to the window. Careful not to disturb the barricade. The beam disappeared. Then reappeared. Gone. Back again. Not random. Moving. Your stomach tightened. A flashlight. It had to be. Nothing else made sense. Someone was carrying it. Someone alive. Or at least someone human enough to use one. The realization immediately raised a different problem. What exactly were you supposed to do about it?

You glanced over your shoulder. The shelter remained quiet. Most of the survivors were asleep. A few volunteers remained awake, helping with watch duties. And Leon… Leon was asleep. Or as close to asleep as Leon Kennedy apparently allowed himself to be.

His arms were folded. His head tilted back against the wall. The exhaustion on his face was impossible to miss now that he wasn’t actively fighting it. You frowned. You really didn’t want to wake him. The man had fought a monster the size of a truck. He deserved at least one uninterrupted hour.

The light flickered again. Closer this time. You immediately looked back outside. No. Not closer. Moving. Sweeping between buildings. Like someone searching. You chewed on the inside of your cheek. Maybe it was another survivor. Maybe it was a rescue team. Maybe it was someone trapped. Maybe… The list of possibilities ended there.

Because logic had already taught you one thing. The optimistic explanation was almost never the correct one. You remained at the window. Watching. Waiting. Trying to gather more information before making a decision. Minutes passed. The light continued moving. Sometimes disappearing entirely behind buildings. Sometimes reappearing. Always changing position. Always moving. Never stopping. The longer you watched, the less you liked it. A volunteer approached quietly.

“What are you looking at?”

You pointed. The man squinted through the barricade.

“Oh.”

Helpful.

“Any idea what it is?”

“No.”

Wonderful. The volunteer stared for another moment. Then slowly turned toward Leon. You immediately shook your head.

“Not yet.”

The man looked unconvinced. Honestly, so were you. The light vanished again. This time for nearly thirty seconds. Long enough that you started wondering if you’d lost it. nThen it returned. Much brighter. Your pulse spiked. Because now you could tell exactly where it was. Not at the edge of town. Not miles away. Closer. Much closer. Walking straight through the streets. Toward the shelter. The realization settled heavily in your chest.

You looked back toward Leon. Still asleep. Still recovering. Still exhausted. You could wait. Maybe gather more information. Maybe…

The light suddenly stopped. Completely. As if whoever carried it had noticed something. Or someone. A terrible feeling crawled up your spine. The flashlight beam slowly shifted. Sweeping across buildings.n Across vehicles. Across the street. Closer. Closer. Closer. 

Until finally, it pointed directly at the shelter. Every muscle in your body tensed. Nope. Absolutely not. That was enough information. You crossed the room immediately. Fast. Purposeful. Trying not to panic. Trying not to run. Leon didn’t stir as you approached. Which somehow felt wrong. The man slept like he expected the world to end around him.

You crouched beside him. For a brief moment, you considered letting him sleep another five minutes. Then you remembered the flashlight. The monster. The outbreak. The nightmare town. And decided against it.

“Leon.”

Nothing. You frowned.

“Leon.”

Still nothing. How was this the same man who woke up every time a floorboard creaked? You reached out and nudged his shoulder.

Immediately.

Instantly.

His eyes opened. Hand moving toward his weapon before he was fully awake. You nearly jumped. The transition from asleep to alert was terrifying.

Leon focused on you. The room. The shelter. Assessing everything within seconds.

“What happened?”

No grogginess. No confusion. Just immediate readiness. You pointed toward the window.

“There’s a light outside.”

His expression didn’t change.

“How long?”

“About fifteen minutes.”

Now he frowned.

“And you’re just now waking me up?”

You pointed toward the cot.

“You needed sleep.”

The look he gave you suggested he had several opinions about that decision. Most of them probably involved the word rookie. Still, he stood. Already awake. Already moving. Already reaching for his gear. And as the two of you turned toward the barricaded window, the flashlight outside vanished once again. Leaving only darkness behind. Somehow, that was even worse. 

The darkness beyond the barricaded window remained still. No flashlight. No movement. Nothing. As if the light had never been there at all. Leon stood beside you, staring through the narrow gap between wooden boards. The shelter had fallen quiet once more. Even the volunteers had noticed the shift in atmosphere. Waiting. Watching. Listening.

“What direction?” Leon asked.

You pointed toward the far side of town.

“Near the old pharmacy.”

His gaze followed. For several seconds, neither of you spoke.

“Describe it.”

You blinked.

“The light?”

Leon nodded.

“Everything.”

You frowned.

“It looked like a flashlight.”

“Looked like?”

“It was far away.”

His expression remained unreadable.

“How did it move?”

The question caught you off guard. You thought back. The way it had disappeared behind buildings. The way it had swept across streets. The way it had stopped.

“It wasn’t random.”

Leon remained silent. Encouraging you to continue.

“It moved like someone was carrying it.”

“Someone?”

“I think so.”

You hated how uncertain that sounded. Leon’s attention remained fixed on the darkness.

“How long did it stay still before it disappeared?”

You hesitated.

“Maybe ten seconds.”

That earned a slight frown. Not a good sign.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

You immediately narrowed your eyes.

“That’s a lie.”

“It usually is.”

“Leon.”

He sighed.

“You said the light stopped.”

“Yeah.”

“And then it pointed at the shelter.”

You nodded.

“Right before it disappeared.”

Leon’s jaw tightened. You noticed. Immediately.

“Why is that bad?”

The veteran agent didn’t answer right away. Outside, the wind pushed through the empty streets. A loose sign creaked somewhere in the distance. Finally…

“Because if it was another survivor…”

He glanced toward you.

“…they already know we’re here.”

The room seemed colder after that. You hadn’t considered that. Not really. The shelter wasn’t exactly subtle. The barricades. The lights. The noise. Anyone paying attention would have spotted it. The question wasn’t whether someone had seen you. The question was why they hadn’t approached. A volunteer nearby shifted nervously.

“You think it’s hostile?”

Leon shrugged.

“I think I don’t know.”

Which was somehow worse. Because Leon always seemed to know something. Even if he wasn’t sharing it. Not knowing clearly bothered him. You looked back outside. Still nothing. No flashlight. No movement. No sign of life. The town remained frozen in place. A graveyard pretending to be a community.

“We should investigate.”

The words left your mouth before you could stop them. Leon immediately looked at you.

“No.”

You frowned.

“No?”

“No.”

“You don’t even know what it is.”

“Exactly.”

The answer was instant. Matter-of-fact. Infuriating.

“What if it’s another survivor?”

“What if it isn’t?”

You opened your mouth. Then closed it. Unfortunately, that was a fair point. Leon continued watching the street. Thinking. Planning. Calculating.

You were beginning to notice how often he did that. Every situation became a puzzle. Every decision weighed against a hundred possible outcomes. The downside was that it made him frustratingly difficult to argue with. The upside was that it was probably why he was still alive.

A sudden noise interrupted your thoughts. A thump. Everyone in the shelter froze. The sound had come from outside. Not close. But not far either. Leon immediately straightened. There. Another sound. A metallic clatter somewhere down the street. Then silence.

Your pulse quickened.

“Please tell me that’s normal.”

“Nothing about this place is normal.”

“Not helpful.”

“I wasn’t trying to be.”

You shot him a look. Leon ignored it.

Outside, the darkness seemed to press closer against the building. Every shadow looked suspicious. Every alley looked dangerous. Every abandoned vehicle suddenly felt like it might be hiding something. The flashlight didn’t return. Minutes passed. Then more.

The anticipation became unbearable. You found yourself constantly glancing toward the street. Waiting for something to happen. Waiting for an answer. Waiting for the next disaster. Beside you, Leon remained perfectly still. The picture of patience. You hated him a little for it. Eventually you crossed your arms.

“How are you so calm?”

The question slipped out before you could stop it. Leon looked over.

“I’m not calm.”

You stared. Because he absolutely looked calm. The man had the same expression whether he was drinking coffee or fighting a giant mutant. Leon must have noticed your disbelief. Because he huffed out a quiet laugh.

“I’m just used to it.”

The honesty surprised you. A little. His gaze drifted back toward the darkness.

“You stop expecting things to make sense after a while.”

Something about that answer lingered. The exhaustion behind it. The experience. The fact that he spoke like someone who’d spent years staring into impossible situations and finding a way through them anyway. 

Before you could respond, the flashlight appeared again. Much closer. This time, everyone saw it. A sharp beam of white light cutting through the darkness between two distant buildings. The entire shelter froze.

The beam swept slowly across the street. Then stopped. And for the second time that night, it pointed directly at the shelter. No one spoke. No one breathed.The light remained there. Steady. Unmoving. Watching.

And then, somewhere beyond the darkness, a voice called out.

“Hello?”

The single word echoed through the empty town. And every person in the shelter jumped. Because after everything you’d seen… a human voice was somehow the most terrifying thing of all.

✧ Find next chapter here

✧ TAGLIST: Feel free to comment, leave an ask, or message me to be added to the tag list for this series!

@innocentcinnamonpun @pinkcatnight @probably--possessed @possums-things @fries11

[aelladrift]

THE COST OF SURVIVAL ✧ Leon S Kennedy

CHAPTER NINE

✧ Find previous chapter here

SUMMARY: You were trained to save lives, not to take them. Fresh out of training, your first assignment places you alongside Leon S. Kennedy during what should have been a routine outbreak investigation. Instead, the mission quickly descends into a nightmare of failed evacuations, impossible choices, and horrors neither of you are prepared to face. As the body count rises and the line between survival and sacrifice begins to blur, you’ll learn that every life saved comes at a cost…and some wounds refuse to heal long after the mission is over.

‼️ NSFW. Canon typical violence and depictions

✧ PAIRINGS: RE9! Leon S Kennedy x Gender Neutral! Rookie Medic! Reader

✧ The Cost of Survival Masterlist

✧ My Resident Evil Masterlist

✧ Find me on AO3

💬 I will be participating in ArtFight this year! So my posting on here might slow down a little bit since I will be participating in that! That being said, I will totally still be relatively active, just most likely not writing as much! Find me on ArtFight if you'd like!

Leon stared at you from across the shelter. The question lingered between you.

What made you sign up for this? You weren’t entirely sure how to answer. Most people never asked. Usually they just assumed.

“You first.”

Leon’s eyebrows rose.

“That’s not how this works.”

“It is now.”

A quiet laugh escaped him.

“You really don’t know when to quit.”

“You’ve known me for less than twenty-four hours.”

“And yet somehow I already know that.”

You considered that a victory. A small one. But a victory nonetheless. The shelter remained quiet around you. Most of the survivors had finally drifted off to sleep. Only a handful of volunteers remained awake. The lanterns cast long shadows against the walls. Outside, the town remained silent. For now.

Eventually Leon sighed.

“I got into this because somebody had to.”

You blinked.

“That’s your answer?”

“It’s the truth.”

“That’s a terrible answer.”

“I wasn’t aware I was being graded.”

“You are.”

Leon looked deeply unimpressed. You smiled anyway. The expression faded as quickly as it came.

“Seriously.”

You leaned back against the wall.

“What made you stay?”

That question seemed to catch him off guard. His gaze shifted toward the floor. Toward the survivors. Toward the sleeping families scattered throughout the shelter. A long silence followed. Then…

“People.”

The answer came quietly.

“So many people spend their lives hoping someone will show up when things get bad.”

His eyes remained fixed on the room.

“Someone to save them.”

You followed his gaze. The little girl from earlier was asleep now. Curled up beneath a blanket. Safe. For the moment.

“And?”

Leon’s jaw tightened.

“And sometimes nobody does.”

The room fell silent. You didn’t push further. Something told you there were entire graveyards hidden behind those few words. Instead, Leon glanced over at you.

“My turn.”

You sighed.

“Fair.”

The conversation shifted. You told him about training. About medical school. About wanting to help. About wanting to be useful. You left out the fear. The uncertainty. The fact that half the time you still felt like an imposter pretending to know what you were doing. Leon listened. Actually listened. Which somehow felt stranger than all the monsters. By the time the conversation ended, nearly an hour had passed. And Leon looked exhausted. More exhausted than before.

His responses had become slower. His posture looser. The occasional blink lingering just a little too long. You folded your arms.

“No.”

Immediately suspicious.

“What?”

“You’re sleeping.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“Not tired.”

“You almost fell asleep mid-conversation.”

“I was thinking.”

“You closed your eyes.”

“Still thinking.”

You stared.

Leon stared back. The battle lasted several seconds. Then a full minute. Neither willing to surrender. Finally you pointed toward an empty cot.

“Nap.”

“No.”

“Nap.”

“No.”

“Leon.”

“No.”

“Agent Kennedy.”

His expression immediately soured. That got his attention.

“You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, I would.”

The threat hung in the air. You watched him realize exactly what you were doing. Using professionalism against him. A dirty tactic. An effective tactic. Eventually Leon groaned. Actually groaned. Like the prospect of sleep was a personal attack.

“Fine.”

You smiled. The reaction suggested that had been a mistake.

“One hour.”

“Two.”

“One.”

“Two.”

“One.”

You narrowed your eyes.

“Leon.”

“Fine. Two.”

Victory. At last. You immediately pointed toward the cot. Leon muttered something under his breath that was probably unflattering. Then reluctantly stood.

“You’ll wake me if something happens.”

It wasn’t a question. You nodded.

“Obviously.”

His gaze lingered on you for a moment. Assessing. Judging. Trusting. Then finally, “Okay.”

Just one word. Yet somehow it felt important. Because for the first time since this mission began, Leon Kennedy was trusting you to watch his back.

A few minutes later, he was asleep. And for the first time, he looked human. Not a government agent. Not a legend. Not the man whose reports filled entire training courses. Just someone tired. Someone carrying too much. Someone who hadn’t allowed himself to rest in far too long.

You found yourself watching the rise and fall of his breathing. Making sure it stayed steady. Making sure he stayed asleep. The irony wasn’t lost on you. You’d been assigned to keep Leon alive. Somehow, that now included forcing him to take naps. Outside, the darkness remained still. The town remained silent.

And somewhere in the distance a single light flickered to life.

✧ Find next chapter here

✧ TAGLIST: Feel free to comment, leave an ask, or message me to be added to the tag list for this series!

@innocentcinnamonpun @pinkcatnight @probably--possessed @possums-things @fries11

[aelladrift]

THE COST OF SURVIVAL ✧ Leon S Kennedy

CHAPTER EIGHT

✧ Find previous chapter here

SUMMARY: You were trained to save lives, not to take them. Fresh out of training, your first assignment places you alongside Leon S. Kennedy during what should have been a routine outbreak investigation. Instead, the mission quickly descends into a nightmare of failed evacuations, impossible choices, and horrors neither of you are prepared to face. As the body count rises and the line between survival and sacrifice begins to blur, you’ll learn that every life saved comes at a cost…and some wounds refuse to heal long after the mission is over.

‼️ NSFW. Canon typical violence and depictions

✧ PAIRINGS: RE9! Leon S Kennedy x Gender Neutral! Rookie Medic! Reader

✧ The Cost of Survival Masterlist

✧ My Resident Evil Masterlist

✧ Find me on AO3

💬 I will be participating in ArtFight this year! So my posting on here might slow down a little bit since I will be participating in that! That being said, I will totally still be relatively active, just most likely not writing as much! Find me on ArtFight if you'd like!

The shelter gradually settled into an uneasy silence. Not peace. Nobody here was foolish enough to call it peace. The monster was dead. For now. That was all.

The survivors slowly returned to their cots. Children drifted back to sleep. Conversations became whispers. The panic from earlier lingered in the air like smoke. Everyone knew the danger wasn’t gone. It was merely somewhere else. For the moment.

You finished wrapping Leon’s arm.

“There.”

Leon glanced down at the fresh bandage.

“I told you it wasn’t that bad.”

You resisted the urge to throw something at him.

“It absolutely was.”

“It barely counts.”

“It required stitches.”

“Debatable.”

“It is literally not.”

Leon’s mouth twitched. The closest thing to a smile you’d seen all night. Then it disappeared. You sat back on your heels. The worst of his injuries had been treated. Nothing life-threatening. Nothing immediately concerning. Which should have made you feel better. 

Instead, a different concern had begun creeping in. You studied him. The dark circles beneath his eyes. The slight slump of his shoulders. The way he occasionally pressed his fingers against his temple when he thought nobody was looking.

Exhaustion.

Not normal exhaustion either. The kind that accumulated over weeks. Months. Years.

“You should sleep.”

Leon immediately shook his head.

“No.”

You sighed. Of course.

“Have you slept recently?”

“Yes.”

The answer came too quickly. Suspiciously quickly. You narrowed your eyes.

“When?”

A pause. Too long.

“A few days ago.”

Your jaw dropped.

“A few days ago?”

“I was busy.”

“A few days ago isn’t an answer.”

“It is technically an answer.”

“Leon.”

“I’m fine.”

You stared. He stared back. The stubbornness was almost impressive. Almost.

Across the room, one of the survivors snorted into their blanket. Apparently you weren’t the only person who thought he was ridiculous.

Leon pretended not to hear it. You rubbed your forehead.

“How are you still functioning?”

“I drink coffee.”

“That isn’t how biology works.”

“It’s worked so far.”

The frustrating thing was that he genuinely seemed to believe it. A soft laugh interrupted the argument. You looked up. An older woman sat on a nearby cot. She’d been one of the survivors you’d examined earlier. The grandmother traveling with her daughter and grandson. She smiled knowingly.

“You’re wasting your breath, dear.”

Leon pointed at her.

“See?”

She ignored him completely.

“Men like him never listen.”

The surrounding survivors immediately seemed interested in the conversation. Several nodded in agreement. Traitors. You felt vindicated. Leon looked horrified. The older woman continued.

“My husband was the same way.”

“I’m sitting right here.”

“No concern for themselves.”

“I can hear you.”

“They think they’re invincible.”

“Please stop helping.”

The woman patted your shoulder.

“You keep trying.”

A few people laughed. Even you couldn’t suppress a smile. Leon looked personally offended by the entire shelter. For a few moments, the atmosphere lightened. The tension eased. People smiled. People laughed. People remembered what normal felt like.

And then you noticed it. Leon smiling. Small. Faint. Gone almost immediately. But real. Not the sarcastic smirk. Not the dry humor. Something softer. The expression vanished the second he realized you’d seen it. You pretended not to notice. For some reason, that felt important.

The shelter grew quieter as the hour dragged on. One by one, survivors drifted to sleep. The lights were dimmed. Voices faded. Eventually only a handful of people remained awake. You. Leon. And the volunteers keeping watch.

Leon stood. Immediately. Like he was planning to escape. You pointed at him.

“No.”

His expression became deeply offended.

“What do you mean no?”

“I mean no.”

“I’m going to check the perimeter.”

“You are going to sit down.”

Leon blinked. The sheer audacity of your statement seemed to catch him off guard. Then he laughed. Actually laughed. A short, tired sound. The first genuine laugh you’d heard from him.

“You really are a medic.”

You crossed your arms.

“And you’re really a terrible patient.”

The smile lingered for another second. Then faded. Something distant settling behind his eyes. Something older.

He looked toward the barricaded windows. Toward the darkness beyond them. Toward the town. Toward the nightmare waiting outside. And suddenly he seemed tired again. Not physically. Emotionally.

The kind of exhaustion that came from carrying too much for too long. Neither of you spoke. The silence stretched. Then quietly…

“So.”

You looked up. Leon was still staring at the windows.

“What made you sign up for this?”

The question caught you completely off guard. Because for the first time since meeting him, Leon wasn’t asking about the mission. He was asking about you.

✧ Find next chapter here

✧ TAGLIST: Feel free to comment, leave an ask, or message me to be added to the tag list for this series!

@innocentcinnamonpun @pinkcatnight @probably--possessed @possums-things @fries11