𝐚 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫 | leon s. kennedy
⇾requested by: @erinrinrinsprout
⇾summary: after betraying Leon Kennedy 21 years ago by selling critical information to the black market, you have lived in the shadows as his unseen guardian. when a final mission at the ARK facility forces you into the light, old wounds reopen as Leon finally sees you again. will he give you a second chance?⇾pairing: fem mercenary! reader x re9! leon s. kennedy
⇾word count: 2.7k
⇾warnings: heavy angst, graphic violence, blood, gunshot wounds, impalement, near death experiences, Raccoon City Syndrome, betrayal trauma, swearing, emotional breakdown
⇾dividers by : @uzmacchiato
a/n:i know, i know… it’s been forever since i last posted anything!!! life has been kicking my ass lately and i’ve been so insanely busy with work that i haven’t had nearly as much time to write or upload as i wanted to. thank you for your patience!
The weight of twenty-one years pressed on your shoulders like cold steel. You moved through the dim corridors of the ARK like a ghost: silent, unseen, always three steps behind the man who had once promised to kill you. Leon S. Kennedy. The only man you had ever loved. The man whose heart you had shattered.
It had started on that fateful day. You were young, desperate, and foolish. A mercenary contract gone wrong. Information sold to the black market that should have stayed buried. Leon had trusted you. He had loved you. And you had repaid him with betrayal. The look in his eyes when he found out still haunted your nightmares, those piercing blue eyes, once warm with affection, now frozen with rage, coldness, betrayal, and hatred.
“If I ever see you again,” he had said, voice like ice cracking under pressure, “I will kill you without hesitation.”
You believed him. You still did, yet here you were, bleeding in the shadows. You had met Grace in the underbelly of a crumbling facility three years ago. She was sharp, capable, and clearly cared for Leon in her own way.
“Take care of him,” you had told her, pressing the antiviral into her hands. “If I don’t make it out alive...just make sure he lives.”
Grace had looked at you strangely, but she hadn’t asked questions. No one ever did when it came to Leon Kennedy. People simply followed him into hell and hoped they’d make it back.
You clutched your side, fingers brushing the raised scar just above your hip. The memory flashed behind your eyes: an underground facility, years after the betrayal. You had stepped out of the shadows by accident, just bad timing during a mission. Leon’s instincts took over, the gunshot echoed like thunder. Pain exploded in your lower abdomen as the bullet tore through flesh. You had escaped, barely, leaving a trail of blood and unspoken apologies.. That scar was your penance, a permanent reminder of the love you had destroyed.
But you never stopped watching over him.
Every mission. Every nightmare. Every close call. You were there, neutralizing threats from rooftops, leaving anonymous supplies at drop points, taking bullets meant for him. He never knew, or if he suspected, he never let it show. Leon moved through the world like a man carved from duty and loss, and you loved him all the more for it.
Now, the ARK facility trembled around you. Alarms blared, the air reeked of blood, chemicals, and something far worse, the mutated stench of Gideon’s experiments. Gideon. That bastard had turned the ARK into his personal playground of horrors. You had come here to end it and hopefully to give Leon one final chance at survival before your body gave out completely.
Your vision blurred as you pushed forward, combat knife in one hand, pistol in the other. The Syndrome was winning. Every breath felt like glass in your lungs. But you had one last job.
Gunfire erupted ahead. Leon’s signature precision: two shots, center mass, followed by a reload you could recognize by sound alone. You slipped into the fray, staying low. Gideon’s form loomed at the center of the chamber, a grotesque amalgamation of flesh and biomechanical terror. Tentacles, thick, barbed appendages, lashed out like whips.
You saw the opening before Leon did. One of the tentacles was coiling for a lethal strike while Leon focused on the creature’s core. You didn’t hesitate. You sprinted forward, body screaming in protest, and drove your knife into a vulnerable joint. The tentacle convulsed, buying Leon precious seconds.
For the first time in twenty-one years, your eyes met his without the safety of distance or shadow.
Leon’s face wayyy older now, etched with scars and exhaustion somewhat twisted from focus to pure shock. Then fury. Recognition slammed into him like a freight train. Those blue eyes you had loved so desperately widened, then narrowed into slits of cold hatred.
“You,” he growled, voice low and lethal even over the chaos.
A tentacle slammed into your side before you could respond. Pain erupted as it impaled you not fatally, but deep enough to lift you off your feet. You gasped, blood filling your mouth. Gideon’s laughter echoed through the chamber, distorted and monstrous.
Leon moved like lightning. His shots were relentless, tearing into the tentacle holding you. It released you with a shriek. You hit the ground hard, vision swimming. Leon was suddenly there, sliding into cover beside you, his hand pressing against the wound in your abdomen...right near the old scar.
“Stay the fuck down,” he snarled, but his hands were gentler than his words. He tore open a field kit with his teeth, packing gauze against the new injury with practiced efficiency. His eyes flicked to your face again, searching, disbelieving. “You should be dead.”
You managed a weak, bloody smile. “Tried that. Didn’t take.”
Another tentacle whipped toward you both. Leon shoved you behind him, firing upward. You forced yourself up, ignoring the way your legs shook, and emptied your magazine into Gideon’s exposed flank. The two of you moved in sync, instinctive, deadly. Like you had done a hundred times before, unseen.
“Why?” Leon demanded between shots. His voice cracked, just barely. “After what you did. After I told you-”
“Because I love you,” you whispered. The words slipped out, raw and unfiltered. “I always have. Even when I broke us. Especially then.”
He didn’t answer. Couldn’t. A massive tentacle crashed down, forcing you both to roll apart. Gideon was weakening, but so were you. Your vision tunneled. The antiviral you’d given Grace had bought Leon time, but your own dose had been… insufficient. Deliberately so.
You staggered toward the creature’s core, drawing its attention. “Leon! The weak point is the upper thorax!”
He understood instantly. While you distracted the monstrosity, Leon scaled a collapsed catwalk with impossible grace. You saw the flash of his knife, heard the wet impact as he drove it home. Gideon thrashed wildly. One final tentacle caught you across the chest, sending you flying into a console. Pain exploded. You crumpled, coughing blood.
The world went quiet except for the sound of footsteps, Leon’s boots, sprinting toward you.
He dropped to his knees beside you, hands hovering, unsure where to press first. Blood soaked your tactical gear. The old scar on your abdomen burned like a brand beneath the new wounds.
“Don’t you dare die on me,” he said, voice rough. His hands finally settled, one cupping the back of your neck, the other pressing desperately against your worst injury. “Not after all this. Not after-”
You reached up with trembling fingers, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. He looked so tired but soo beautiful. “I watched you for twenty-one years, Leon. Every mission. Every night you drank yourself to sleep. I was there. Protecting you. Because I couldn’t let you go. Even if you hated me.”
His eyes glistened. The great Leon Kennedy, the unbreakable, looked like he was breaking. “I did hate you. God, I hated you. For what you did. For making me love you and then ripping it away.” His thumb brushed your cheek, smearing blood. “But I never stopped looking for you either. In every shadow. Every ghost. I told myself I’d kill you if I found you. But seeing you here…fighting for me…”
A weak laugh escaped you, turning into a cough. “Guess I’m hard to kill.”
“Don’t,” he warned, voice cracking fully now. He pulled you closer, cradling you against his chest. His heart hammered beneath your ear. “Don’t you dare leave me again. Not like this.”
You felt consciousness slipping. The Syndrome, the blood loss...it was too much. But you had one more thing to say.
“Grace has the rest of the antiviral. She’ll help you. Live, Leon. For both of us.”
“No.” His arms tightened. “We’re getting out of here together. You hear me? You don’t get to die in my arms after twenty-one fucking years of this bullshit. I won’t allow it.”
He lifted you, ignoring his own injuries. The ARK was collapsing around you,Gideon’s death throes triggering failsafes. Leon carried you through corridors that shook and groaned, murmuring the entire time. Threats, promises, curses, confessions.
“You idiot,” he growled softly. “Following me all this time. Taking bullets for me. I should’ve known, I felt it. I just… didn’t want to believe it.”
You drifted in and out. At some point, fresh air hit your face. Extraction. Grace’s voice sharp and relieved.
When you woke, it was to the steady beep of medical monitors and the feeling of a warm hand wrapped around yours.
The room was dim, sterile. A safe house medical bay, by the look of it. Your body ached everywhere, but the feverish burn of the Syndrome was… muted. Manageable.
Leon sat in a chair beside the bed, elbows on his knees, head bowed. He looked like he hadn’t slept. His hair was messy, stubble thicker than usual. When he sensed you stirring, his head snapped up. Those blue eyes, still the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen were filled with something raw and unguarded.
“You’re awake,” he said, voice hoarse. He didn’t let go of your hand.
“Barely,” you rasped. Your throat felt like sandpaper. “How long?”
“Three days. Grace worked miracles... she said you gave her everything you had. You really are stupid... Self-sacrificing. Typical you.” He tried for sarcasm, but it fell flat, cracking with emotion.
You tried to sit up. He immediately moved to help, adjusting pillows with careful hands. When you were settled, he didn’t pull away. Instead, he sat on the edge of the bed, still holding your hand like it might disappear.
“I meant what I said back there,” you whispered. “I never stopped loving you. Even when I sold that intel… I was scared, far too young. Thought I could protect you by keeping you away from my mess. It was the worst mistake of my life.”
Leon was quiet for a long moment. His thumb traced circles on the back of your hand, gentle, almost reverent.
“I spent years hating you,” he admitted. “Wishing I could forget you...But every time I closed my eyes, there you were. And then… the shadows. The times I should’ve died but didn’t. The supplies that appeared exactly when I needed them.” He met your gaze. “That was you.”
You nodded, tears slipping free.
“I wanted to kill you when I saw you in that facility,” he continued. “But after you ran… I looked for the body. Prayed I wouldn’t find one. I was so fucking angry but relieved and confused.” He let out a shaky breath. “Twenty-one years, and you’ve been loving me from the dark this whole time.”
“I couldn’t stop,” you said simply. “You’re it for me, Leon. Always have been.”
He leaned forward, resting his forehead against yours. His breath mingled with yours, warm. “I don’t know how to do this,” he murmured. “I’ve been alone so long. But… I don’t want to be anymore. Not if you’re here.”
Your heart clenched. “Even after everything?”
“Especially after everything.” His lips brushed yours, a little hesitant at first, then deeper. It was twenty-one years of pain, longing, and love poured into one kiss. When he pulled back, his eyes were wet. “No more shadows. No more running. We do this together. You fight the Syndrome with me. We burn every last remnant of this shit down.”
You smiled through your tears. “Together.”
Leon stayed with you through recovery. He was there when the pain made you scream, when nightmares of Gideon’s tentacles woke you. He held you through fevers and whispered stories of missions gone wrong, his way of saying I trust you again. Grace visited once, raising an eyebrow at the two of you but saying nothing except, “About damn time.”
Months blurred. The antiviral regimen worked better than expected, perhaps because you had each other. Leon’s touches grew bolder. A hand on your waist in the kitchen. Fingers tracing your old scar with something like worship instead of guilt. Nights spent tangled together, bodies and souls reconnecting after decades apart.
One evening, months later, you stood on the balcony of a remote safe house watching the sunset. Leon came up behind you, arms wrapping around your middle. His chin rested on your shoulder.
“You know,” he said quietly, “I used to think love was a weakness.. something that got people killed.” His lips brushed your neck. “But you… you made me stronger. Even when I didn’t know it.”
You turned in his arms, cupping his face. The blue eyes that once looked at you with hatred now held nothing but love.
“I’m never leaving you again,” you promised.
“Good,” he replied, kissing you softly. “Because if you try, I’ll just follow you into the shadows this time.”
You laughed freely, rhe weight of twenty-one years lifted, replaced by something new. Hope maybe a new future.
Leon Kennedy had once promised to kill you.
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