The Universe didn't send Grace and Emily to 1998 for no reason. There were things that needed fixing.
Leslie
Her cosplay
Yes it is real suit of armore(the sword's real too)
Leslie
The Universe
The Universe is alive. Not in the same way as humans or animals. Not even in the same ways as plants. Rather, The Universe is alive in the same way that an ecosystem is. An infinitely growing number of little organisms that keeps the tapestry of it’s existence flowing. When bio-organisms become weaponized, it tears little holes in the tapestry of The Universe. This is, of course, unacceptable. Easily fixed but, unacceptable. The Universe has had tears like this before and by now it is long practiced in fixing them up.
An unlocked door here, some well placed ammo there. Jill and Carlos nudged slightly to the left, Leon called to stay away, Sherry found by Claire. Little things. And then Umbrella tries to make a counter-weapon to Leon Scott Kennedy and the tapestry rips. The Universe makes her a little too much like her Progenitor. It rip repairs itself.
Umbrella Laboratory, June 15, 1999
Project LESLIE was born when Umbrella got sick and tired of Leon Scott Kennedy almost sending them into bankruptcy on more than one occasion. Not even a year into his ‘recruitment’ with USSTRATCOM and he’d already cost them $200-300 million alone. It was remarkably easy to get there hands on his DNA. A paper coffee cup, taken from the trash, and Project LESLIE was under way.
300 failed clones later and the only success was female. The reasoning was unclear. Kennedy’s DNA was confirmed male but after so many failures, they were unwilling to try again. They would just have to make due. Besides, a female clone was an unexpected boon. No one would know she was a clone right off the bat, and any 100% match would be taken as a mistake. They were more likely to assume she was his daughter. They could use that.
Subject LSK-301 was a healthy baby girl with strong lungs and eyes filled with a righteous indignation—as though she was born knowing of their crimes and already had opinions on it— that the Umbrella scientists would fail to recognize. It would not be the first time they made this mistake.
LSK-301, 4 years old
LSK-301 was four years old when she met her sister for the first time. The scientists seemed to have come to a decision about what to do with her, at least in regards to socialization. They stuck her in a room with a group of girls who all look the same face-wise. They had black hair in varying styles. Pigtails, space-buns, bobs, pixie cuts, plaits. They ran around the room playing loudly. They didn’t talk to her. She’s too different, it seemed. And then, she saw her.
In the back of the room, curled up in a little reading nook, wass a girl who must’ve been the same as her. For all that she resembled the other girls, she was ignored by them, too. Umbrella would see this as a success. Leslie and Nellie would look back on it and laugh. (If The Universe could laugh, it would, too.)
She skipped over, “Hi.”
Les, 4 years and 2 months old
“Lookie what I found”, She singsonged, waving the book over Four’s head. Four frowned, reaching up to grab it. When she did get a look, she blinked at it.
“Uuh… what?” Her new friend looked confused.
“It’s a baby name book”, Les declared, feeling particularly proud of her self.
“N-no, I got that. Why, though?”
“I said we gotta come with something else to call you, ‘member? Now, we can.”
“Oh.” Four’s voice was quiet.
They spent hours looking through the book for new name for her friend. Four spotted it finally, pointing to a name in the book, “That-t-t one.”
Les leaned over, blonde hair slipping into her face. “‘Nellie’”, she read. “‘Of greek and french origin, derived from the names Helen and Eleanor. Means shining light or bright light.”
Four tugged on her sleeve, “It’s n-n-nice to meet you. I’m N-N-Nellie.”
“It’s nice to meet you, too, Nellie. I’m Les.”
Leslie, 5 years and 9 months old
“What’s your name?”
“I’m sorry?” The scientist looked up from the monitor where he was studying Les’ blood.
“What’s your name?”
The scientist swallowed, surprise bleeding into his face. He smiled, “My name is Luis Serra, Pequeña Mariposa.”
“Do I have a name?”
Dr. Serra looked surprised. Then angry. And then he smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes, “Yes, Pequeña mariposa. Your name is Leslie.”
She smiled, “Leslie.” She wondered if Dr. Serra knew she’d asked that question before. She wondered if he knew that she wasn’t supposed to know. “Are you going to be Nellie’s Doctor too or just mine?”
“Nellie?”
“My sister! She’s AW-004, technically. But, we went through a baby name book so she could pick out something else and now her name’s Nellie.”
“I see. Yes, I am your sister’s Doctor, too.” Dr. Serra looked pained. Leslie didn’t know why. “Tell you what, Pequeña mariposa? I’ll teach you and Nellie how to dance, yes?”
Leslie gasped, “Really?!”
“Really.”
Leslie, 8 years old
Leslie swung her legs back forth under desk. The classroom was empty of everyone but her and Nellie. Dr. Serra hadn’t come back. Nellie was doing her classwork. While her sister might’ve looked fine to everyone else Leslie could see how she was gripping her pencil tight enough to turn her knuckles white, the furrow in her brow betraying her upset. “Hey, Nellie—”
“I don’t want to t-t-talk about it”, Her snapped.
“I wasn’t going to ask how you’re feeling about it.”
“O-Oh, Sorry. What was i-i-it?”
“Did we ever get around to looking up what my name means?”
Nellie finally looked up, looking someone in the face for the first time since they were told Dr. Serra was dead, “N-no. It k-k-kind of fell by the wayside.”
She looked over at the scientist sitting at the desk. They were out cold. “So, let’s look it up then!”
They pulled the book out Nellie’s back pack, rifling through the pages until they her name. “Let’s see… ‘Of Scottish origin, this gender-neutral name was first a surname. Meaning ‘Grey Fortress’ or ‘Garden of Holly’, this name was commonly used for boys in the earlier half of the twenty first century before it returned to it’s gender-neutral roots. It was decently popular as a girls’ name between the 50s and 70s.’ Huh.” She looked at her sister. Nellie no longer looked like she was five minutes away from burning the building to the ground. Progress.
Leslie Kennedy, 9 and a half years old
“L-Leslie.” Her sister tugged on her sleeve, keeping her voice low. It was nighttime, but they didn’t wanna risk getting any unnecessary attention.
“Hmm?”
“W-when can we l-l-leave?”
“In a few more months.”
“W-why?”
“We know everything we need to know now. But, the scientists might’ve noticed us snooping and we need them to let their guards down before we can escape. Just a little longer, Nellie.”
“O-okay.”
Chief Irons’ Office, RPD HQ, Raccoon City Ruins, October 2009
A panel in the wall swung open and Leslie stepped out into an office, pulling Nellie along behind her. They made their way down the building, picking past debris, trash, and broken glass. The path was long and winding but, eventually they found their way into the main hall of the building. Leslie looked across the space. The remains of a tall statue, a ruined front desk, a gigantic hole where there used to be a roof and wall. “Nellie—”, only Nellie wasn’t there. Leslie sighed, “Nellie!” Could her sister not go five seconds without wandering off! Leslie made her way down the stairs, looking for whatever door her sister went through, when her foot collided with something on the ground. It slid across the floor with a light scrape.
She picked it up. It was a badge. ‘Raccoon City Police Dep, Marvin Branagh, Lieutenant’. The metal shield had lost whatever sheen it used to have, the photo id aged and yellow; even dulled and scraped it still had a protective weight to it. She ran her fingers along it. “L-Les! Check it o-out!” Nellie came running back into the room, from a doorway to her right. She was waving something in her hand, grinning wildly. the way she used to do before they found those files. She went to scold Nellie for just disappearing on her but her sister just shoved what she was in her face. Leslie leaned back.
“I-I-It’s his badge!”
“Who’s badge?”
“L-Leon’s.”
Sure enough, the face on the badge was her original’s. ‘Raccoon Police Dep, Officer’. Unlike the badge she was holding, Leon’s badge was shiny and unmarked, the photo id pristine; kept it protected from the elements wherever it had been.
“I-I guess it’s y-yours”, Nellie said. She held out the badge for Leslie to take. Only, her face and body language said the opposite of what she claimed. She avoided eye contact, shifting uncomfortably on her feet, grip on the badge tightening.
Leslie frowned, “It’s not mine.”
“B-but… you’re cloned f-from Leon?”
“Yeah… But, it wasn’t waiting for me to find it…” she held up Marvin’s badge. “This badge was waiting for me to find it. Leon’s badge was waiting for you.” Nellie relaxed finally. But she could see her sister still wanted to put up a token protest. Leslie didn’t give her the chance. She grabbed her sister hands pulling her to the station’s entrance. “Now, come on. We can’t stay here. And do NOT wander off again. Understood?”
Her sister huffed, but gave an affirmative.
Blackwater Bend High School, Two Weeks Before Spring Break, 2015
Leslie hummed quietly under their breath. They didn’t need to worry about much currently. Aside from exam scores anyway. And planning their sweet sixteen. And Nellie’s sweet sixteen. The two of them had plans for the future. They were gonna move to Portland, Oregon, where the two of them were gonna buy a three story corner store. The first floor was gonna be Leslie’s bakery, the second floor Nellie’s boutique(what kind was yet to be decided on), and the top floor would be their living space.
It was the dream. Leslie was five minutes away from screeching their head off with excitement. They’d been doing their research, they knew how to pull this off even if it took a while. There was a knock on the classroom door. When Ms. Cornwallow opened the door it was to Principal Ishikawa. “Sorry to drop in unexpectedly, but I have some news. Good news, don’t worry. No one’s in trouble.”
Leslie sat up straighter, a holdover from their time at the Lab. They cast a quick glance around the room. All the students present were paying attention now. The Principal rarely, if ever, stepped into the school’s classrooms. They looked at their sister who was avoiding eye-contact. “Ms. Leslie Kennedy”, Principal Ishikawa said, “has won your class a trip to the San Francisco Bay, California and a tour of Alcatraz Island during spring break.”
Leslie frowned, confused, and then remembered Nellie avoiding eye-contact. They scowled at her, mouthing, “What did you do?” Their sister smiled innocently. Leslie didn’t believe it for a second. They buried their head in their hands to hide the burning redness of their face. They couldn’t hide the redness of their ears or drown out the whoops and applause of their classmates.
Whatever. She’s always wanted to go to Alcatraz, and there was fandom convention on being hosted there anyway. Leslie and Nellie could finally wear their Alice cosplays.
Alcatraz Island, Spring Break, 2015
Leslie weaved their way through a horde of infected, beheading them as the blonde went. The convention had been going great. Then the screaming had started and they lost Nellie in the chaos. Leslie was so glad that the two of them chose to use real weapons as part of their cosplays instead of fake one. Even though they really weren’t supposed to. They hoped Nellie took out some undead with that hobby horse of hers.
Leslie took out the last of the infected but their swing was too harsh and the blade stuck in a wooden beam. “NO!” They panicked, trying to get the sword free. A low growling filled the room and they looked behind themselves’ to see a mutated dog-wolf thing. The world narrowed down to a single point. Fear, dread, desperation. They was drowning in an ocean of destruction with no way out. They turned back to the sword yanking at it desperately.
It wouldn’t come loose and they sobbed, “NONONONONONONO! PLEASE! PLEASE! I HAVE TO FIND—”
Pain. Leslie couldn’t breath. Their neck was simultaneously numbed and burning. Blood dripped down their throat and onto the armor. They lost their grip on the sword, reaching up to try to pry the jaws off their neck.
The wolf snapped it’s jaw shut and Leslie went limp, the life leaving their body. The wolf dropped the fifteen year old and slinking out the room. Sunlight hair, pulled into a milkmaid braid, doused in blood and gore. Once shiny steel armor splattered with blood. No one would think the teenager on the ground out of place in the middle ages. No one would ever know that they had a sister somewhere on the island in more danger than the blonde had been.
Chris Redfield
Chris followed the trail of beheaded bodies into a small room. He looked around. And that’s when he saw it. A bloodied sword embedded in a wooden beam. His gaze trailed downward landing—”Leon?” He made his over swallowing down panic. “Oh, thank God!” The relief hit like an wave, before it was smothered by realization. He knelt taking a closer look. She looked like a female version of Leon in his high school photos. The ones Sherry found. Fuck. She looked about fifteen or sixteen. Leon had a girlfriend before Raccoon City, right? Her throat was mangled, face frozen in fear and pain. He couldn’t leave her here.
He pulled out his phone. He briefly considered calling Leon. Decided against it. This was not the time or place for Leon to find out. Decided against calling Claire. He loved his little sister, but she had a habit of jumping to conclusions on minimal information and then acting on it, which was probably his fault. Claire definitely didn’t learn her terrible communication skills from their parents. He decided on Jill. She would keep her head.
The phone rang, for a few minutes before it picked up.
“What?” Jill sounded annoyed.
“Jill, I found- I found someone, a kid.”
“A survivor?”
“No.”
“Then why—?”
“I think she’s Leon’s.”
“…What?”
“I found a teenage girl that looks almost exactly like his high school photos. The ones that Sherry phone.”
“Are you sure?”
“I am 100% convinced that if we ran her DNA against his it would be a match.”
“And she’s dead?”
“She hasn’t turned, either. So, I’m bringing her with me.” And then he hung up the phone. He slung her over his shoulder, hissing as the metal plates of her armor dug into it. Why the hell was she wearing armor? Why were all these people wearing costumes!? He turned aiming his gun and stalked out of the room, leaving the sword embedded in the beam.
Leon Scott Kennedy
She looked just like his mom. Her honey blonde hair fell in waves. That was the only difference, the waves. His mother’s hair had been wild curls. Leon couldn’t really hear the Reverend anymore. Leslie was dressed in light blue high collar nightgown, hair pulled into two simple braids. She looked peaceful in death. Which was not how she looked in any of her photos. In her photos she wild and carefree. Like nothing could ever get her down.
Leon only wished that he found her before she died. That he could’ve saved her. A bitter, meaner part him wanted to blame Chris for not getting to her sooner. He didn’t voice that thought. Leon wanted to scream every time someone called her a clone. They’d been doing that ever since the results came through. But, it was so obvious she was her own person. There were so many photographs to prove it. Photos of her baking, something Leon had always sucked at. Photos of her with friends, wearing shirts with silly, stupid sayings. A video of her singing karaoke badly at a party.
So many things, she wasn’t a clone. She was his baby, his little girl, his daughter that he would never get to know with an insane tumblr persona who was on a mission to kill the devil for some reason he couldn’t understand. A reason he would never understand because he couldn’t ask her about it. Leslie Kennedy, he thought miserably. I’m sorry I couldn’t save you, kiddo.
The Universe
It was all ticking along smoothly. The last vestiges of Umbrella were finally getting their comeuppance and The Connections weren’t strong enough to be of concern. The Universe was satisfied. All was going as it should. And then a Cerberus latched onto Leslie Kennedy’s throat and killed them. There are certain things that are scheduled to happen for the continued existence of reality. Nellie. And then you have the things that aren’t. Leslie dying. Leslie’s heart stops and the tapestry unravels. The universe does what it normally does and while the tapestry is stabilized the hole is still there. It’s only a delay of the inevitable. The universe knows what it needs to do. All it needs is a viable candidate. It needs someone who knows just enough to make the necessary changes but not enough to change something they shouldn’t.
Leon gets an important reminder and a new mission.
Grace has a breakdown about the decisions "she" made in her new memories.
Marvin is Marvining
Notes: Lowkey, I forgot Marvin has daughter who snuck into Raccoon City to find him. She does find him. He loses track of her after that when he makes her get out of the city. On the bright side, no one know what happens to her so I've decided she makes it out alive and is Alyssa's future wife. Lesbians for the win!
This chapter is shorter than I thought it would be.
“Uncle Marvin, I-I’m going to marry that man.” The words loop continuously through Leon’s mind as he offers his hand to Grace. She grips it tightly as he pulls her up, her fingers soft against his callused ones. “I trust you. I trust you.” He lifts the Kevlar over her head, adjusting it so that it covers Emily. He’d grabbed a larger size, so that he could fit it over the both of them. As he buckles it into place, he finds that it doesn’t close over her sides completely. It wasn’t warping at least. Grace reaches over, making adjustments to Leon’s gear.
He checks on Emily. Out cold. She wasn’t kidding when she said Emily sleeps like a rock. He looks back up, making eye contact with. He leans in, brushing his lips lightly against her ear, “We should go ring shopping after this, shouldn’t we? Or is that moving to quickly?” She squeaks and when he pulls back Leon can see that Grace is bright red. He grins, feeling smug. Pleased, too. He turns to find Marvin looking absolutely done, but not upset.
As much as he hates to kill the mood, he turns to Marvin. The conversation he and Grace had with Claire lingers in the back of his mind. Getting answers is important. “Does anyone know what started this?”
“Not a clue.” He goes on to say something else but, Grace interrupts.
“I h-thee-think I might know something”, her voice hitches into that stutter, as her face scrunches up with distress— and guilt? “Uncle Marvin, do y-you rem-me-member when I was kidnapped a few weeks ah-ago?”
Leon is left reeling at the information. It’s jarring to be hit so suddenly with information like that. It’s also a pretty harsh reminder that they’ve only known each other for what? A couple hours? And there he was in the locker room imagining her sitting on his couch in her pajamas with a cup of coffee, wedding ring on her finger, and Emily in one of those baby walker things. Like she’s his wife already. Slow down, Kennedy.
Then again, “He’s it for me. There’s never gonna be anyone else, Uncle Marvin.” And, “Uncle Marvin, I-I’m going to that man.” She’d sounded soft and breathless. A dreamy quality to her tone that had Leon tripping over his feet on the way to his locker. When Leon had come back he’d been intending to say something flirty. Some marriage themed pick-up line to get Grace to glow that pretty pink she did every time she was flustered. He’s still going to, of course. It’ll just have to wait until a little later.
He tunes back into the conversation, “-have to do with your kidnapping?”
Grace swallows, inhaling sharply, eyes flickering around like she could find the words she needed floating in the air. When she answers her voice trembles and chokes slightly, “The f-fa-facility I was ta-taken to was an Um-Mum-Umbrella Corpora-ration lab-laboratory. They were exp-experiment-menting with stuff like this. My boss sent me al-alone to an unsecured crime scene. Wanted ‘an analyst’s eyes on the scene’. I found som-something that Umbrella didn’t want getting o-out. Something ht-they'd sent a retrieval team for. The retrieval team f-found me. Wh-whe-when I woke up, I was st-strapped upside down t-to a table and my bl-blood was being drawn. Still don’t know why they w-wanted it. When I-I-I escaped, they created an outbreak in the fa-facility. To kill mm-me, I think.” — Grace shifts uncomfortably, avoiding eye contact, like she’s afraid of what she’ll see when she looks at them— “That’s w-wh-where I found Em-Emily. Sh-sh-she was uninfected. Kept in this gl-la-ass cage thing. When I got us-us and out of the building the-there was a S.T.A.R.S team get-ti-ing r-r-ready to storm the building. They def-definitely weren’t expecting a-a-a woman an-and a baby. I was given paid l-l-leave to make it-it-it-it es-easier to adjust t-t-to having Emily, and was nnn-not to worry-y-y-y about the ‘on-ongoing invest-stigation’. That e-e-e-e-everything was being t-t-t-taken care of a-a-a-and to rest. I-I-I-I left the city to stay with Dad f-f-f-for a few days, and I didn’t give it a-a second thought. Th-th-this is all my fault!”
The pitch pitch of her voice heightens rapidly into a whine as she explains. He’s a little turned on by her steadily growing rage. He ignores it. Leon is more horrified by the misplaced guilt. He’s gripping her shoulders, turning her to face him. He needs to keep her present so she’ll hear what he has to say. “Grace. Look at me. Please.” She does, hesitantly at first, but she does. Her eyes flecks have of green in them, a light delicate shade. “This is not you’re fault. You trusted that this would be investigated, and that trust was betrayed. And we don’t know if that’s what led to the outbreak, this could’ve been caused by a separate incident. I know you probably don’t believe me, and that’s okay. So, I’ll say it until you do and then even more after that. This is not you’re fault. You couldn’t have known. You did that best that could and Emily needed you more. Emily still needs you more.” Her eyes are so wide and watery. She looks stunned, like she’s never had anybody tell her that something out of control wasn’t her fault. “Okay?” She doesn’t answer, just stares at him, so he reaches over and gently tugs at a lock of her hair.
She swallows, inhales slowly. “Okay”, She breathes it out, soft and feathery, as though the word has come from some far away place where it was hidden in her soul. Leon cradles the word in the hands of his mind, tucking it away into his own soul, putting it somewhere it can never be taken away from him. Leon turns to Marvin. Before meeting his girls, he might have said something about wishing he’d shown up sooner. But, if he’d shown up sooner what would’ve happened to Grace and Emily? If he’d shown up sooner, he might’ve died or been turned and become a threat to them or what if he’d survived and they died or turned because he wasn’t there to pick them up. Could he have shot them? A pretty woman and her baby? No. He would’ve let them kill and turn him, too.
Marvin clears his throat, bringing their attentions away from each other and onto him, “Leon’s right, Grace. And anyway that doesn’t matter now. Honestly, all you need to know is that this place will eat you alive if you’re not careful.”
Leon frowns, remembering to check his gun, “Yeah… well, I supposed to start last week. But, I got a call to stay away. Otherwise, I’d’ve been here sooner.”
“You’re here now, Leon. That’s all that matters.”
“OK, Lieutenant. I’m ready.”
He walks over to Marvin. Whatever orders he’s given, he’ll take. Though, he doesn’t want to. He’d much rather stay by Grace and Emily. Marvin looks up at him, voice firm, “Hopefully, you’ll be able to find yourselves away out of this station. That officer you met earlier—Elliot. He thought this secret passageway might do the trick.” He hands Leon the notebook back. Leon had given it to him earlier, wanting him to take a look.
Leon looks at him, “This is good news. We can get you to a hospital.”
Marvin shakes his head, “No, no, I am not the priority here.”
Leon’s heart drops, “Lieutenant, we can’t just leave you here—”
“I’m giving you an order, Rookie”, Marvin snaps. “You save yourselves first. I’d come with you but, I’d just slow you down. Now…you’ll need this.” He tried to hand his combat knife to Leon.
Leon shook his head, “I can’t take—”
“Stop.” Marvin’s voice was firm. Leon grabbed the knife and Marvin pulled him in sharply, “And don’t make my mistake. You see one of those things—uniform or not—you do not hesitate. Grace and Emily are your priority, now. So, you take it out. Or you grab them and run. Got it!?”
“Yes, Sir.” Leon’s chest feels heavy, in a way he’s not used to. Still, Leon has a mission, now. Grace and Emily. If he’s lucky that mission could become his new life. He’d really like for them to become his new life.
When Marvin sits back down his groans of pain have Leon looking away. His gaze lands on Grace. She looks… anguished and unsurprised. Like, she already knows there’s nothing they can do for Marvin and has succumbed to the reality of it. “Oh, Sweetheart…” He walks back over to her, pulling her into his side. He rests his cheek on her head. “Grace and Emily are your priority now.” Truthfully, they’ve been his priority since he met them.
“Grace”, Marvin says.
“Y-yeah?” Her voice trembles with the force of her grief.
“You stay with Leon. Do not leave his side unless you absolutely have to. If you do have to…get back to him as quickly as possible. Understand?”
“I understand.” Her voice is steadier now. More mournful than anguished.
Next
Notes: Leslie is being very insistent about being heard. I don't know if I want her appearing in this fic, tho. Should I give her a chapter or a oneshot?
Hark! A surprise Marvin POV!
I thought this was going to be Leon's perspective and then Marvin started talking, and needless to say, I like his perspective.
Marvin sat back, watching Grace and Leon, assessing. Before he’d recognized Grace, he’d assumed that they were a married couple with a kid. Hell, he was still having to remind himself that they weren’t. Even while helping Marvin, Leon’s attention never strayed from Grace and Emily. Finally, Marvin asked the question he’d been wanting to ask since he’d got there. “Where’s Elliot?”
Grace teared up, looking nauseous, and Leon grimaced, looking away. “He- I-I couldn’t-”, Leon cut himself.
Marvin sighed, “I’m sure you did what you could, Leon”— He turned to Grace—“Now what I would love to know, is why the hell Alyssa’s boss called you to tell you Alyssa needs to be picked up? I’m fairly certain she’s already out of the city.”
“What?!” Grace scowled, eye twitching. “For f-f-few-fucks’ sake! The hell is we-wrong with some people?”
Leon reached, running his fingers through her hair, and tucking it behind her ears, “Hey, at least you know she’s safe, right?”
She sighed, leaning into his touch, shoulders slumping, “That’s true.” Marvin watched as Leon cupped her cheek, stroking her cheekbone with his thumb. It was sweet, and while Marvin hated to interrupt the moment, he also didn’t want Leon or Grace running around without Kevlar,; he wasn’t sure what to do about Emily. His goddaughter deserved a shot at romance with a guy who wasn’t like That One Guy They Don’t Acknowledge. He cleared his throat. Grace flushed, a bright pink that Alyssa would tease her about if she were here. She grinned awkwardly, ducking her head. Leon ducked his head as well but, the rookie’s grin was smug and unrepentant.
Marvin smiled, pained, “There’s a uniform waiting for you in the lockers. They’re towards the back of the Lobby. Kevlar’s in the storage box. Welcome to the force, Kid. Sorry ‘bout the shitty first day.”
Leon nodded, “Yes, Sir.” He stepped back. Only he didn’t leave, yet. Instead, he turned to Grace and waited. Marvin watched as Grace smiled at Leon and gave a short nod. Only then did the Rookie leave. His goddaughter watched Leon leave with an expression so painfully smitten that Marvin was getting cavities by osmosis alone. She looked to Marvin, blushed, and curled in her shoulders. She aborted the movement, straightening her back, and lifted her chin to look him dead in the eyes.
She took a deep breath, “Uncle Marvin, I-I’m going to marry that man.” There was a loud clatter followed by a yelp from Leon’s direction, and Marvin got the unmistakable delight of watching Grace turn a red so bright she almost glowed from it.
“Oh my god”, she breathed, looking positively mortified. She giggled demurely. “Um… He’s just… a-am-amazing. And he’s so good with E-Emily. He’s it for me. There’s never gonna be anyone else, Uncle Marvin.”
If this were anyone else Marvin would be more concerned. It was Grace, though, and she’d always had good instincts. “Tell me ‘bout him”, he said. Good instincts or not, he was still going to be Grace’s godfather. Grace grinned brightly, and then rambled happily about Leon, swinging her feet back and forth the way she did when she was younger. Marvin sat back, listening to her talk. It was vaguely reminiscent of the way her father had talked about her mother in that same way; only more like her mother in diction.
If this was the last thing he heard before he went, he was more than at peace. Besides, he missed his wife and his best friend and he was sure they’d want to hear all about how things had been going on earth. He was sure Josie would love to hear all about her daughters when he got there.
Leon came back wearing his uniform gear and all, carrying more Kevlar as well. He looked at Grace and held up the Kevlar, “I have an idea.” He looked a little nervous, shifting awkwardly on his feet. She reached out lightly caressing his fingers, looking so completely enchanted that Marvin feel a little sick. Not ‘Ew, that’s gross sick’ more ‘had too much candy on Halloween at six years old’ sick. The good kind of sick. “Leon”, Grace’s voice was soft, breathy. “I trust you. I trust you.”
Fair warning: My family is moving at some point during the summer, so there will be a hiatus, especially since we're building our house.
I'm also taking an interior design class, so updates will be a little slower. And then it'll take me a little bit to get back into the swing o' things once everything's settled. Just wanted to give you all a head's up, so...
There were photos on his wall in the hallway. This was nothing new. His wall had had the photos for a while. Sherry had walked into his cabin after they’d reunited, intent on hosting a Survivors-of-the-Government’s/Umbrella’s/Various-Terrorist-Organizations’-Bullshit-Party—which had quickly become welcome parties hosted every time someone new survived such bullshit—and been horribly insulted by how empty his walls and shelves were. Sherry, Claire, Chris, everyone really, had taken the opportunity to fill his house with everything from little knickknacks and treasures to colorful blankets to the aforementioned photos on the wall. What was new was the photos had changed.
They had blurred out faces in some, new people added in others and there were new photos entirely. The one that had his attention could’ve only been taken immediately after Raccoon City as he’s still wearing the RPD uniform. He can see the edges of his tactical gear off to the side, his belt and boots and utility belt piled on top. There’s a giant Tatami bed set up on the floor of a different cabin. The couch behind it indicating a living room. There’s cups of tea on the edge of a coffee table that’s been pushed to the side. There are blankets and pillows on the tatami scattered haphazardly about.
Cool morning light drifting in through the windows sets a gentle glow on the people in the photograph. Claire and another woman(Alyssa Ashcroft?) are both sprawled on the couch limbs askew. On the tatami there are four people. Sherry, 12 years old, lying sideways and snoring like a truck, her head hanging off the side, her legs thrown over his. Leon himself spooning a mystery woman. The mystery woman on her side, back to him, face obscured by her hair. A baby, with white-blonde hair sticking up haphazardly and cataracts and redlines in the face left by the folds of the blankets, trying to climb over the mystery woman to Leon. And all of a sudden Leon knows that the woman is Grace.
His Grace. Except, she can’t be. But she is. Leon remembers what her perfume smelled like even after being rained on. Magnolias, river water, and apricots. He remembers her shampoo as well. Oranges, orange blossoms, and vanilla. He’d buried his face in her hair after Ada- after Ada what? Grace hadn’t been in Raccoon City. Only she had. She’d been walking on the side of the road, and he’d picked her up, and then it had carried on from there. Leon had been avoiding thinking about his attraction to Grace considering the age gap (Sherry had called him up one day, cackling about how he wouldn’t need to worry about the age gap. And then she hung up. Rude.), when he saw the photos on his walls had changed.
Now, he’s looking at them and there’s two more that he can see have clearly changed. One is a photo he took with Sherry when he first got custody of her. They’d gone to a diner his favorite foster mom had taken him to when he was in high school after he’d gotten into a fight with a bully. She’d grinned at him widely, “Officially, I’m upset with you. Unofficially, did you win?”
In the photo, Leon is wearing a blue t-shirt with the mystery machine on it, and washed out jeans. Across from him, Sherry is wearing a yellow sweater with Snoopy dog on it tucked into frayed jeans. She’s wearing one of those obnoxiously large butterfly clips that he bought her in his spare time. Claire had wanted to meet up with them but hadn’t able to make it because one of her college friends was sick and notoriously bad at taking care of themselves. So, it had just been him and Sherry. There’s two more people in the photo now. Grace sitting right next to him, tucked into his side. She’s laughing in the photo at something he said, her head falling against his shoulder. She’s wearing a green sweater with embroidery she did herself, the words ‘If I shenan once, I’ll shenanigan’ circling a frog playing a banjo and a blue knee length skirt patterned with frogs. Emily is in her lap wearing ‘90s Strawberry Shortcake overalls over a matching t-shirt. Her white-blonde hair in little pigtails. There’re pancakes on the table alongside bacon, eggs, and sausage. His and Sherry’s original order. There’s more food on the table now. Fried tomatoes, hash-browns, and French fries and milkshakes. Leon remembers eating a French fry dipped into the milkshake and wondering if Grace would taste like the fried tomatoes when(when?) he kissed her.
The third is a photo that used to be of Ada. Leon had almost no photos of Ada, and the few he did have, she only let him take if her face was obscured. After they’d run into each other during Las Plaga, they’d gone on a date, if you could even call it that, to the Grand Canyon. It was sunset in the photo, casting a golden pink glow over everything. Ada was standing ahead of him in a red backless tank top, skinny jeans, and black leather heeled boots. She had her back to the camera. With the lighting in the photo Ada had looked mysterious, even unreal. It’s not Ada in the photo now. It’s Grace. She’s facing toward him, grinning wildly. Her hair is longer, wavy, blowing in the wind. She’s got a large sunhat that she’s holding in place with both hands, wearing a green sundress with a sweetheart neckline, and sandals with ankle straps. And she’s looking right at him. In the rose gold of the sunset she looks ethereal, goddess like. And Leon doesn’t remember any of it. Except that, he kind of does. It’s blurry and muffled, but there are bits and pieces here and there. Emily’s guide dog, Snowy. Grace asking about how his mom’s been doing. Sherry rolling her eyes at something he said while he helps her with an art project.
For a moment he wonders where Emily is in the photo. And the answer comes unbidden. Her grandpa’s; Sherry’s with him, too. This wasn’t a child-friendly trip, after all, if the hickies were anything to go by.
Three photos. A completely new one, and two that been changed. Grace and Emily at a time and place they couldn't have been. What the fuck?
Grace adjusted herself so Leon could see better, setting her feet on the center console. She turned on the safety on her gun and turned her attention to Emily, who'd begun to calm down. She turned to Emily's ears checking that the little ear plugs she got were in place. She didn't know how helpful they were against the sound of gunshots but she wasn't about to blow her daughter's ears out; She bought them to help her daughter sleep. Still, Something was better than nothing. "You live around here?", Leon asked.
"No, looking for my brother. He's a cop, too", Claire said.
"Well, it's a good thing we found each other. I don't know what's happening anymore…" Leon frowned.
Grace sighed, "I-I'm glad we found each other, too."
"Where did Leon find you?" Claire asked.
"Side of the r-road. My car br-broke down and any calls I tried to make weren't going through." Grace reached up behind her head and popped open the side pocket of the diaper bag. She carefully grasped the magazine inside with two fingers and pulled it out, adjusting her grip as she did so. She popped the used magazine out of her gun, and slotted the new one into place. When she looked up, it was to Claire watching her, "Not taking any chances?"
Grace smiled tightly, "I-I can't afford to."
"I get it." Claire gave a short nod and turned to watch the city as they drove deeper in. Overhead an announcement blared over sirens and speakers,
"Attention all citizens: Due to the citywide outbreak, you are advised to take shelter at the Raccoon City police station. Free food and medical supplies will be provided to everyone in need."
Claire gave a short huff, "Oh my god, this is so unreal."
"The police station's not much farther. They'll know something."
No, they won't, Leon, Grace thought. But, it's not she like could tell him that. Grace didn't even know what was going on. Her kidnapping from the Wrenwood Hotel had answered many questions. Her kidnapping in the new memories seemed to create more and… Grace's superiors had told her not to worry about what happened. To take some time off work to and get herself and Emily's new lease on life in order. So, she had. In her past(future?)life, Dempsey had been furious to find out that the case file he'd been given had been altered. Apparently, he'd been left under the impression that the building had been properly secured—meaning every possible entrance was guarded— and that Grace would have a field agent escorting her. He'd assumed Grace would be safe. When Grace missed her check in and Dempsey tried to call it in? He'd been shut down. Everything that followed after had involved Internal Affairs investigating what had happened while Grace and Emily were placed, temporarily, in protective custody.
That was not the case in the new memories. No, Grace was told not to worry about it. That it was being taken care of and she should rest in the meantime. And Grace, who had no reason not to, had taken them at their word. Stupid. Didn't Rachel Evans say it herself? 'The government hates you.' Never mind that she works for the government.
"Yeah, but… What if we're the only ones? What if there's no survivors—"
Leon cut Claire off, "No. There's survivors. It's a big city… there has to be."
Grace nodded, "H-he's right. E-even if there's not a lot, there's bound to be some."
Leon slowed down as he pulled the cruiser up to a line of police barricade fences, cars packed in haphazardly behind it. He stopped the car, "Looks like we're walking from here." Grace looked over to Claire, who's eyes had caught on something outside the window. She followed Claire's gaze to find… two infected were hunched over a corpse, digging in,"…Uh, Leon?"
Claire said what she couldn't, "More like running."
"Yeah, good call." Leon nodded. Grace yelped at a bang that came from behind her, the muffled snarls of the infected sending shudders of revulsion down her spine.
"Jesus Christ!" Claire.
How the fuck are they so fast when they're so damn slow!?, Grace thought, hysterically, watching as the police cruiser was surrounded. "Leon!" Claire yelled over the sounds of infected. "We've got to back up!" Thank you, Claire, Grace thought. I can't get words to do the fucking word thing at the moment because of my stupid fucking stutter! And then all three of them saw it coming up behind them.
"IS THAT A FUCKING TRUCK!!!" Grace shrieked. Oh now you want to do the word thing! Apparently, all it took was a massive shock.
"Get out!" Leon snapped, "GET OUT NOW!" Only the doors wouldn't open and Grace made a split second decision. She swapped the gun into her other hand, slid that arm around Leon's shoulder, bracing Emily's back and neck with her other arm and hand. She curled into Leon, ensuring Emily was between them and squeezed her eyes shut. She felt Leon's arm come up around her back, his hand gripping her shoulder tightly. "Hold on!" Leon shouted. BAAAANG!!!!! SCREEEEECH!!!!!
The sounds of crashing as the truck careened into the cars behind them. The cruiser jolted, hard, Emily started wailing, and Grace felt the cruiser go sliding as the truck rammed it from behind. The cruiser slid to a stop, and Grace felt a brief moment of panic as she she realized she couldn't get out of the car fast enough— Leon simply carried her, baby, diaper bag and all, out of the car. He set her down, she grabbed his arm with her free hand, and started pulling him from away the car as quickly as she could. There were two loud explosions and they went flying. Grace landed on her back, thank fuck for the diaper bag. Grace checked on Emily as best she could. Still wailing, no injuries as far she can tell, she'd have to wait until they were safer to check further. Leon grabbed her by the hand and pulled her up. As he did, Grace took stock of herself. Some minor aches and pains, nothing broken. Her gun in a fucking death grip, holy shit!
She looked around for, "CLAIRE!" They both shouted.
"CLAIRE, YOU OKAY?!" Leon yelled.
"YEAH! I'M ALRIGHT! HOW 'BOUT YOU GUYS?!" She yelled back. Grace sighed, relieved. Until, she saw they were surrounded. She turned the safety off as Leon told Claire that they had to leave and to meet them at the station. Leon wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her in close and keeping Emily between them as they maneuvered their way through infected and debris, guiding her into an alleyway.
"Shit… it's everybody… they've all turned", He said. "Stay close to me, Grace."
"W-where else w-would I b-be?" She asked. Emily had stopped wailing; instead, little hitching sobs interspersed with hiccups escaped her baby. Leon's grip around her tightened, pulling them both ever closer. They ran up and down some stairs, until they exited into open air.
Leon sighed, "There it is. The station." They sped up, past infected and cars, a fucking school bus on fire—oh God!—right up to the gate where there were infected and Grace would've frozen if Leon hadn't kept her moving. He opened the gate, nudging her ahead of him, and she turned just in time to watch him slam and lock the gate shut on some infected who were a little too close for comfort. Leon took a quick look around them; guided her up through the doors into the brushed gold lighting of the police station. Grace sighed, lightly trembling as the warmth of the building washed over her. She clicked the safety back on and pocketed her gun. What she wouldn't give for a proper holster.
She pulled the earplugs out of Emily's ears putting them away, then lightly pressed her fingers to Emily's neck bracing herself mentally for a sudden flinch and cries of pain. Nothing. Just sniffles and hiccups.
"What are you checking for?"
She moved her hand down, pressing it lightly along Emily's back. Still nothing. "W-whiplash. Rib or back injuries. Sh-she's fine. No injuries at all… It's a m-miracle." She looked up to find he was still close to her; still holding her. Now that they weren't in any danger, she could feel the weight of his body against her side. She reached up and—stilled her hand. "C-can i? Ch-check for whiplash, I mean." She didn't need to, strictly speaking. His neck was clearly fine, but hey, when you get an opportunity.
His lips quirked up, "Yeah, can I also check?"
She swallowed, "Y-yeah." She pressed her fingers lightly along his neck; smooth and firm. She felt a little breathless. She thought he would let go of her waist to check her neck, instead he reached up with his other hand, bringing them almost face to face, and brushed fingers along her skin. Breath, Grace, Breath. He gently dug his fingers into her neck, and Grace was spellbound. She could feel his breath, gentle puffs along her brows, eyelids, and cheekbones. When had she closed her eyes? She felt more than saw Leon move, his breath ghosting over her lips—when Emily squealed, and Leon yelped, his hair grazing her cheek. Grace's eyes snapped open to find that Emily had grabbed Leon and yanked him down. Her baby had one hand clamped onto his jacket, the other in his shirt. She was babbling at him happily while he looked at a loss. It was cute. Grace unclenched her daughters fists releasing Leon's shirt from the tight grip. Emily whined, trying to grab him again, but Grace pulled away her daughter's hands. Leon let go of her and took a step back. Grace swallowed down her own urge to whine at the loss of his weight.
She was definitely pouting, though. His face said she was pouting. She sighed, turning her attention to Emily, "I know w-we like him, Kit, but you can't just grab p-people." Emily huffed, annoyed, and pouted at the floor. Grace pressed her lip together to stave off her laughter. "R-right, so— no whiplash for any of us it seems." She looked to Leon to find him watching her with something ridiculously tender in his eyes. A little thrill ran up her spine; the tiniest bit of triumph. She wouldn't need to do much it seems.
"A-any back o-or rib pain?"
"Not my ribs, no. Lower left of my back, however; I slammed into a car when that truck exploded."
"W-what?! Leon—" She reached for him, alarmed, and he caught her hand.
He cradled her fingers, ghosting his thumb over her knuckles, "I'm okay. It's some bruising at most. You can look it over later, but for now we should look around see if we can find anyone." She nodded, and then he adjusted his grip on her hand, intertwining their fingers together. His hand was calloused and warming. They walked along the lobby of the building; Leon pulling her up a flight of stairs, checking doors along the right side of the interior balcony. Of the doors only one was unlocked. It led into a room with an antique office setup. Leon slowly slid his hand from hers; the brush of his skin against hers sent her reeling and for just a second it felt like her lungs were stuffed full of flowers; like for just a moment she lived in a world where hanahaki was real and not just a made up disease used in fanfiction. Breath, Grace. She cast her eyes over the room, looking closer as Leon stepped around the desk to check behind it.
"Oooh, pamphlet!" She darted over, snatching it up eagerly. There was a huff of laughter from Leon and she stuck her tongue out at him. She read it aloud with exaggerated enthusiasm, "‘W-welcome to Raccoon City! Did you know: While we are the home of ph-pharmaceutical giant Umbrella Corporation,’"—her smile faltered;she forced it back—”’Raccoon City is a v-vibrant and dynamic city with a long, rich h-history of its own. With this guide we'll introduce you to just a few of the m-more unusual points of interest our city has to o-offer. Raccoon City Police Station: The building in the center of t-town wasn't always a police station— in fact, it used to be an art museum. Various f-features like the unusual clock tower and the goddess statue in the main hall remind us of a by-bygone era. Orphanage: Just a few blocks from the police station is an o-orphanage founded and run by the Umbrella Corporation with the help of generous donations from b-businesses and citizens alike. The building is known for its stained glass w-windows, which attracts visitors from around the world.’”
She looked up to find Leon watching her, amused. “W-what?”
He shook his head, “Nothing. There’s a safe on this side. Not much else. We should check the doors on the other side as well.”
“U-uh… before we do that, I-I need to adjust how I-I’m carrying Emily. I’m gonna need you to hold her— Um… Is that a-alright?”
“I don’t mind, whatever help you both need, I’ll give. All you have to do ask.”
“Thanks”, she breathed. “H-have you ever held a baby before?”
“I haven’t.” He admitted. He looked nervous.
“T-that’s okay, it’s nowhere near as scary as you’d think”, she giggled. “One arm u-under the butt, one arm across the back. See?” She pulled Emily out of the wrap, demonstrating the hold she was talking about. When she looked up it was to Leon studying her hold on Emily with such intense focus that for a brief moment her brain superimposed DSO Agent Leon S. Kennedy onto the Leon S. Kennedy in front of her. She choked. Breath, Grace, Breath. “R-right, so…” Grace handed Emily over to him. Honestly, she didn’t know what he was so nervous about, he’s a natural.
“Cataracts?” He asked.
She nodded, “H-her pediatrician thinks they either developed in the womb or soon after she was born but, there’s no way to know for sure. Th-there are surgeries but, I want to leave that up to her.” She rubbed Emily’s back watching fondly as her daughter nuzzled Leon and then pressed her ear to his chest to hear his heartbeat. Grace took a step back undoing the wrap as she did so in order to switch to a kangaroo carry. When she finished, it was to find Leon resting his cheek on Emily’s head, swaying languidly with his eyes closed. Her daughter was completely calm, halfway to nodding off completely. Grace waited for those magical few seconds to pass. That little bit of time it took for her daughter to be essentially dead to the world. When it did, Grace tapped Leon’s shoulder. His eyes snapped open, finding hers, and she was quick to put a finger to her lips. A light blush dusted his cheeks.
“She’s asleep”, Grace whispered. “Luckily, she sleeps like a rock, so maneuvering her won’t be too difficult. But first…” Grace pulled Emily’s earplugs back out, placing them in her baby’s ears. “…okay. Now we can move her.” They moved her carefully and quickly; tucking her arms and legs into the wrap. Leon placed a hand on Emily’s head. He looked like he’d just had an epiphany he was in awe of.
She smiled, “S-so, looking around?”
Leon flinches. "R-right. Looking around." Grace felt fluff and bubbles build up in her chest. Nice.
The only door on the left side was locked. There was ammo, at least. They made there way back down the front desk. Grace looked through the drawers, finding walkie talkies. She grinned, grabbing them. She turned to find Leon looking at the desktop. He pulled up the cameras, “There has to be someone here.” And there was. It took her a second to recognize him. But, it’s undoubtedly Officer Edwards.
“David! Marvin! You there?!” He holds up a notebook. “I found the way out, it’s in here!” He shoots at an infected. Shoves it off him when it gets too close. “Send reinforcements! East hallway!”.
Leon pulled up the building’s map to isolate the camera he was looking at. The break room. “I’ve gotta find that guy.”
Grace handed him a walkie, “T-take this. I-I’ll watch the cameras. Let you kn-know if anything comes up be-behind you.”
He nodded, taking off for the shutters with the keep out sign, he pulled the lever, opening the shutters just enough for him to crawl through to the other side. Grace watched him go, then turned back to monitor the cameras.
Leon’s body was halfway under the shutter. He pulled out his flashlight, using it to look. He crawled the rest of the way through. He took a quick look at a fusebox next to the shutter. He made his way down the hallway, checking a set of double doors as he went. Locked. He continued. He turned down a different hallway.
Grace switched cameras.
There was the sound of something rattling. Leon said something, but it was muffled. Too low for the cameras to pick up. Leon stepped into a room commonly used for pressed conferences.
Grace switched cameras.
There was a body. Leon grabbed ammo. He looked further around the room, hitting a light switch. The cameras switched from night vision to regular. there was trail of blood leading to the body. Leon stepped back into the hallway.
Grace switched cameras.
Night vision again. Leon grabbed a knocked over filing cabinet. He pushed it forward a couple inches, then put it upright with little effort. He continued further down the hallway. He turned down a different hallway.
Her mouth watered; she swallowed down saliva. Focus, Grace. She switched the cameras.
He stepped into a bathroom. And she lost the feed.
No cameras in the bathroom. She called Leon over the walkie, “H-hey, no cameras in the bathroom, eve-everything good? Over.”
“Everything's fine. You flush away all my stress instantly. Over.”
She snorted, “R-really? That was terrible. Cute, b-but terrible. Over”
“I try. Anything waiting for me? Over.”
The hallway was empty.
“Ha-hallway’s empty. Over.”
“Copy. Over.”
Leon turned into another hallway, open space. There were bodies all over the floor. He took a look at another door, this one in a blind spot.
“Leon, the-that door’s in a blind spot. Anyth-thing special?”
“It’s chained shut. No sounds on the other side of it. Over”
Leon walked further into the space. There was shouting. Officer Edwards’ voice. “OPEN UP! HURRY! OPEN THE GODDAMN DOOR!” Leon ran into the room, an office of some kind.
Grace switched cameras.
Leon hurried to the fire safety door, “Hold on! I’ll get you out!” He knelt, grabbing the bottom edge. He pulled it up as much as he could. “Help Me! Please! Help Me!” Leon reached out, “Give me your hand!” He grabbed Officer Edwards by the arms struggling to pull him through. Blood splattered and Officer Edwards let out a truly horrifying scream. Officer Edwards gave way suddenly. The reason why immediately apparent. He was missing his entire bottom half, organs hanging out. Officer Edwards died. Leon grabbed the notebook, scanned the pages quickly with his eyes. He put it in his pocket.
Grace forced herself to breath, staving off nausea. In for four. Hold. Out for four. In for four. Hold. Out for four. Tears blurred her vision. Grace knew better than to fight them, since that’d only blur her vision more; Leon needs her to able to see the cameras, she let them fall. She switched rapidly between camera, hating what she saw. She swallowed, bringing the walkie to her lips, “L-Leon? O-v-over.”
“Grace? Over”
“Yo-you-you’ve got-gotta get out of ht-there. The ha-hallways are filling with in-in-in-fec-ted.”
“On it. Anything you need from me? Over.”
“I-I-I-I ne-ed you to ho-hols-hold me. Over.” That was a lie. What Grace really needed was to hold him. To remind herself that he was okay. Physically at least.
“Copy that. On my way. Over.”
Leon took off running through the halls shooting as needed. He made a quick stop in a suppy closet to pick up ammo. He made it to the shutters.
Grace pushed away from the monitor, running to meet him. As she did someone in an RPD uniform matched her pace. She ignored them in favor of sliding to her knees. She grabbed Leon’s arms as an infected latched on to him. Leon shouted something, the person said something back but Grace couldn’t hear either of them. The world was submerged underwater. The head of the infected that grabbed her Leon was smashed under the shutter as it was forced shut.
Leon pushed himself up, turned, and pulled her into his arms. He was careful of Emily, resting his forehead against her daughter’s head. Grace buried her face in his hair, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. She inhaled sharply— the ocean of fear gave way to the scent of rose hips shampoo. Grace shuddered, then sank into the hug like it was something she’d been doing for a lifetime. Leon adjusted his grip on her, pressing their foreheads together. “Hey”, Leon breathed. She inhaled slowly this time and alongside the scent of his shampoo was the scent of what must’ve been his cologne. Hints of mint and cinnamon, followed by a more notable lavender and vanilla. How his cologne and shampoo had survived the rain, she didn’t know, nor did she care. She opened her eyes.
Leon’s eyes were such bright clear blue that if not for the little specks of green they looked almost like ice. “Grace?” At the new, familiar, voice Grace looked up, “U-uncle Marvin!” The person in the RPD uniform being her Godfather was as relieving as it was terrifying. In large part, because it confirmed something she was trying not to think about. He was proof that the universe hadn’t just given her new memories. It had also rearranged things to make her new existence real. Which meant that the woman who had been her beloved grandmother in her original memories, had become the murdered mother in her new ones.
Uncle Marvin turned to Leon, “You’re safe, for now.” He fell against the shutters with pained grunts, heaving as he did so. He was holding a hand to his side. It bled profusely.
Grace watched Leon help her uncle to sit. He’d been bit, Grace could see that much. More than that though, this was the first time she’d been confronted with a loved one being infected. It wasn’t like with Emily, who’s mutation had devastated Grace because she was a child.
This was Uncle Marvin. Her dad’s best friend who almost burned the house down three thanksgivings ago because he put too many marshmallows on the sweet potato casserole. Who had the demon cat Paprika that used to love only two people, Uncle Marvin and Alyssa, but now loved three, Uncle Marvin, Alyssa, and Emily. Who’s favorite colors were blue and yellow, who listened to the Tetris theme unironically, who tried to learn plate spinning and gave up when he almost dropped the plates on both himself and Alyssa. Who always had a funny story about her dad’s many disastrous attempts to woo her mom, and the attempts still somehow working because her mom thought it was funny.
This was her godfather who, like her dad and sister, was supposed to always be there. He wasn’t supposed to leave too early like her mom had. He was supposed to stay right here. Grace swallowed. Now wasn’t the time for dealing with the emotional fallout of this particular revelation about the time travel. She took her grief and boxed it up, putting it on a shelf in her mind to deal with when they got out of here.
“Grace”, Uncle Marvin’s voice was pained but steady. “What are you doing here?”
“I got a call from Alyssa’s boss. He claimed sh-she made it outside the city and needed to be picked up. Needless to say, but she was n-not there. I thought, maybe she was further in, when my car broke down on the side of the road. That’s when Leon found me.”
From what I've managed to glean from ✨The Text✨ the cloning project was likely another one of those "forcing the evolution of the human race" things and then Dr. Spencer switched gears to creating Elpis after Sherry's shitty Dad released the T-Virus because he was mad that Dr. Oswell-I-want-to-force-the-evolution-of-the-human-race-E.-Spencer didn't approve of his company making and selling bio weapons and shut down the projects. Grace IS a clone. Specifically, she's the proof that Elpis is successful.
Zeno and Gideon weren't WRONG, they were PARTLY RIGHT. They ONLY had access to a little more of the information than everyone else. So they came to similar conclusions as everyone else. They got their hands on Grace's DNA in order to clone her in attempt to recreate or get access to what they THOUGHT was a weapon.
And then when they turned out to be wrong about Elpis they threw tantrums like toddlers. Grace is special because Elpis works and SHE'S the proof. Gideon and Zeno were just prissy little bitch babies who can't stand to have their egos hurt.
it makes me so sad to see so many creators talking in the tags about how they’re not creating as much because less and less people are interacting. this is proof that interaction is vital. this is proof that a lack of interaction leads to discouraged creators and leads to less creations. liking—and only liking—does not encourage creators.
and that’s because (1) the purpose of this website is to share things that bring us joy and (2) likes don’t share things or ensure something is seen by more people, not like they do on other sites. so, when so many people decide to only like a post and not share it (i.e. not reblog it), that tells the creator that those people didn’t think their hard work was worth sharing with others. that’s discouraging.
and the creator isn’t the only one that gets something out of that. you get something, too. you get the joy of sharing something you like; that’s a meaningful experience for both you and for the creator. and that experience—that interaction—encourages the creator to create more, and so there’s more joy to be had for both you and the creator.
long story short, interaction (i.e., reblogging, which is interaction in its simplest form on this site) brings joy. it’s literally all about the joy, people. the joy in discovering and sharing and appreciating and marveling at creations. so please reblog—for everyone’s sake, including your own.
Fun fact! If anybody who's not Grace, Leon, or Sherry tries to pick baby Emily, baby Emily will start screeching at the top of her lungs in pure, unadulterated rage.
origamiaround
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