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Mar 15

INHUMANE // Resident Evil Fan Fiction // Leon x Fem OC

Chapter summary: After surviving the last several days in the Raccoon City Police Station, alleged FBI agent Amy Tucker awakens to see that Elliot has disappeared. She drags herself up to investigate, but Elliot isn’t the only officer she ends up finding.

Warnings: canon divergence, strong/offensive language, violence, death, trauma, use of deadly weapons, any other related themes. Viewer discretion is advised.

Extra Info: You can you can read the rest of INHUMANE // RE Remakes // Leon X Fem OC on Wattpad or AO3. This is expected to be a longer fiction, so romantic themes aren’t present in early chapters. The included song lyrics belong to Buffalo Springfield’s “For What it’s Worth”.

♥️This is my first attempt at fan-fiction/writing, so please be respectful and comment any improvement suggestions!♥️

Chapter I: Skip the Icebreakers

“Paranoia strikes deep,

“Into your life it will creep.

“It starts when you're always afraid.

“Step out of line, the men come and take you away.

“It's time we stop~”

CLUNK!

My eyes shoot open. Confusion replaces the last whispers of sleep, and I force myself to sit up on the sofa.

“Hey, what's that sound?

“Everybody look, what's going down?”

I remove my headphones and scan the Main Hall from my corner on the second floor. I can see most of the area from my viewpoint, but my main concern lies with the one person I don't see. Well, the entirety of him. The feet pulling themselves under the jammed east shutter kind of gave him away.

Well, shit.

My headphone cord tangles around my neck as a familiar voice pipes up in the back of my mind. Its question begins with 'what the fuck-' and ends in '-is wrong with you?'

To answer my unsolicited guest, a shit-ton of things. Common sense? Never had it. A feeling of foreboding? Always ignored. I assume both are now patrons of the current fuck-up I'm facing.

Nice going, Amy.

All to say that I should have expected as much. How hard is it to let the local lunatic catch some Z's? That's a question for Elliot I suppose.

I drag myself off the sofa, hitting the floor with a groan. Purpose-driven or not, I'll have to remind him what 'stick together' means. If it leads to handcuffing him to the railing, so be it.

Hypocrite.

Play stupid games, win stupid prizes. That just proves I should know.

I fly down the stairs and stalk towards the emergency shutter. My eyes scan it for a moment before coming to terms with hauling my ass back into this ring of hell. My nose scrunches, and I crouch to shine my light underneath. When I'm not met with any ravenous refugees, I worm myself through the dried pool of blood underneath it. Elliot's definitely getting cuffed to the railing.

I pull myself to my feet, fixing my flashlight around the obscured hall. Muffled screams break the silence as soon as I take a step, my blood running cold. My legs move before my brain even sends the signal, each stride splashing through the hallway faster than the last.

"AHHGH!'

"Elliot!" I scream, slipping as I round the corner to the watchman's room, barely catching myself with one hand before springing forward again.

I slam through the door, crashing into the desk in an attempt to slide around it. My mind reels when greeted with the sight of the officer under the door. I act fast, shoving some guy to the side and grabbing Elliot's right arm with both hands. He mimics my actions on the left, and with a combined yank Elliot's weight follows through. I almost sigh with relief until my attention snaps to the trail of innards where his legs should be. I stumble back, and the stranger leans forward.

I shake my head in disbelief. This can't be happening. I mean, when did he... how?

"Jesus Christ," The guy mutters, effectively snapping me from my trance. The growls of infected echo all around, soon joined by their banging against the doors and windows. Alarms blare inside my head as I take it all in, eyes shifting towards my mutilated comrade and the frozen man hunched over him.

"We need to go," I finally breathe, frantically kicking the guy with my foot as I watch the door. My hands glue themselves to the hilt of my knives as he snatches something from the floor. He stands and turns to me with a nod as the door rattles more violently.

I draw my Ka-Bar USMC with my dominant hand, pulling a spare combat knife with my left. I stand ready between the stranger and the threshold as he backs up, gun aimed at its wood. God, I wish I had some ammo.

My thoughts are cut short when the zom-cop bursts through, the guy's bullet ripping into its cranium with impressive precision.

I don't waste any time, dropping low and kicking the stunned bastard's legs from beneath him. His face falls forward and I twist to sink my Ka-bar into his skull as he hits the floor.

I pop up as the guy high-tails it past me, both of us hauling ass as glass shatters behind us. We round the corner desperately and I cut in front, leaving the man in the dust.

Good luck, dude.

The sound of boards splintering ahead causes me to curse under my breath.

Good luck, me.

"Jesus! They're everywhere!" He shouts as corpses spill out from the fractured door, more riding our heels.

"Cool your tits, College Boy,” I hiss, lunging forward to stab the woman and dodge the male zombie's arms, twirling to sink a blade into his temple as well. "Go!"

He doesn't think twice and bolts ahead as I linger a step, snapping the combat knife off into the skull of another corpse.

"Shit!"

Another one grapples for me, missing by an inch but following hot on my tail. I hear the mechanical groan of the door as College Boy pushes it farther open and I follow suit, throwing my momentum forward to dive underneath it.

"Goddammit!" The stranger curses, and I flip around to see my assailant latched onto his foot.

I scramble to yank the guy free, dragging him back with enough force that he nearly lands on top of me.

The emergency shutter immediately slams down, smashing the zombie’s head with a sickening squelch.

I let the guy go when I see he still has his bottom half, falling back onto the floor. My arms stretch out at my sides as I argue with my lungs' air capacity. The pounding in my ears fades out, but I still have to coax myself from white-knuckling the grip of my knives.

"You're safe... For now." Someone says, and my head pops up. Sure enough, it's Marvin, and he falls into the shutter while clutching his abdomen. "Marvin Branagh."

I squint at his agonized face, and then his blood-soaked uniform. What the fuck?

"Leon Kennedy. There was another officer, I-I couldn't— I couldn't..." College Boy tries to explain, but trails off, squeezing his eyes shut as if it could make everything go away.

Marvin looks at me, his eyes dark and haunted as the question writes itself on his face. I open my mouth to answer, but my voice catches in my throat.

"It was Elliot," I confirm after a moment, the depleting adrenaline finally allowing my words to take root. It has buzzed in my mind since I saw his intestines on the floor, but it refused to fully register. Now, it only adds more pressure on the dam I've built through the years. Even the best architecture cracks after enough time, right? The misery spraying through the crevices is nothing a little mortar can't fix.

You could have avoided this...

"Amy."

I lift my face to the Lieutenant again, and he gives me his look. The kinda look he gave the other officers when they started getting into their heads.

Psychic bastard.

"Damnit, Marvin. I told you to take it easy." I huff in an attempt to divert his attention. Liquid threatens my eyes, and runny eyeliner is not a good look. Well... runnier.

He only sighs and hauls College Boy up with a groan. "I'm sure you did what you could, Leon." He turns to me, "You both did."

I scoff at his words. I know he's trying to be assuring, but Elliot's still dead. He will never annoy me about fantastical sewer tunnels again. My jaw ticks, and Marvin shakes his head at me, Leon helping him to the seats behind reception.

I keep my eyes on them as they go. There's time to think about the what-ifs later. I've still got bigger fish to fry.

You need to get out of this station.

That's the biggest fish.

I sit up on the edge of the steps and attempt to wipe the zombie goop from my blade. After finding my efforts fruitless, I slide it into the sheath on the back of my belt with a sigh. This doesn't bode well for the shit dried on my arms. Guess I'll just have to burn these limbs later.

"Grab the computer, will ya?" Marvin's voice shakes with the request, and I push myself to my feet. Just what happened on his little adventure?

I snag the laptop from the desk by reception, and wind around to where he's miserably slumped on a sofa. He doesn't spare me a second glance as I hand it off, plopping into the rolling chair across from him. I flick my eyes to what's-his-name, who's hidden in a corner doing God knows what. I'd prefer it stay this way.

I turn back to Marvin and clear my throat, fixing my gaze on his freshly dyed clothing. He ignores my obvious gesture, and I roll my eyes. There are too many questions twisting in my gut for this game of bullshit bingo.

"Were you bitten?" The words escape my mouth, and every fiber of my being pleads for him to say no. To say that he accidentally shot himself or some shit. Anything is better than being bitten.

"Yeah..."

My stomach drops to my ass as each scenario pushes its way into my mind, making it so much harder to ignore the inevitable.

The cracks. The cracks. The cracks...

I shake my head furiously as I remind myself to breathe.

"So, what now?" I ask him.

"You get out."

"What about you?"

"I'm staying here." He says as if it were the most obvious answer, and I feel my irritation bubbling.

"There's no way—"

"You know better, Amy."

"I'm stopping you right there, Lieutenant. I can't, and I won't." I won't. I won't.

"Amy."

"Marvin."

We glare at each other, steely-gray sparking against coffee-brown. Marvin looks away first, reaching to his side and extending a box of 9mm my way. I take it reluctantly, sliding the red Maximum Standard open to reveal fifteen rounds.

"Don't think you can bribe me with ammunition."

"When has that not worked, before?" He smiles weakly at me before it twists into a pained scowl.

"This isn't over," I whisper, shooting out of my chair and stomping towards the left set of stairs. He's right. My brain knows he is. It's my heart that's the problem. It thinks there's something I can do. That there's still a chance I can stop all of this.

Stop kidding yourself, and focus on the mission!

If there was a way to end everything, it died this past week, along with this damned city. All that's left now is the clean up, and that's my sole purpose isn't it? I sink onto the lowest step with a huff, setting the 9mm box beside me. I pull my Glock 17, ejecting its empty magazine and checking the chamber with one hand before setting it aside.

Boots hit the tile loudly from my left and I spare a glance at the guy. He's fully dressed in RPD gear, adjusting his elbow pads as he stops between Marvin and me. I stifle a snicker. He looks like a kid trying on his dad's work clothes for the first time. Reminds me of when Peters first gave me this shirt, but did my eyes ever burn with that much determination? I doubt it.

"So does anyone know what started this?" He asks, pulling his Matilda and checking its chamber before re-holstering it.

"Not a clue," Marvin answers, and I nod along half-listening, setting my mag on my lap to focus on important things. Like finding that mix tape in my pocket. "Honestly, all you need to know is this place will eat you alive if you're not careful."

"Yeah, well I was supposed to start last week and I got a call to stay away. I wish I'd come here sooner."

I can't help the laugh that escapes me. This guy can't be serious, right?

"What's so funny?" He knits his brows and I shrug, biting my lip to hide the smile forming.

"That's enough," Marvin cuts in, shooting me his 'play nice' glare. "You're here now, Leon. That's all that matters."

I stick my tongue out at the Lieutenant in response, ignoring Leon's puzzled glances as he adjusts his body armor for the fifth time. I finally find the mix, simply popping it in and returning to my gun's magazine. See? I can be mature.

I hum along to the familiar rhythm of the music as it fills my ears, and I feel the tension in my shoulders easing for the first time in days. Amazing what music and a few bullets can do for your nerves.

"Amy, right?"

Aaand, there it is.

I groan when I see the boots stopping just a few feet from me. This guy totally doesn't get the 'fuck off' of headphones.

"What you did..." He begins, and I push them off my ear closest to him, refusing to look up.

"You mean risking my ass? Or the part where I saved yours?"

"Yeah, that... Thank you."

I finally acknowledge his person, scanning my eyes up and down his frame. I noticed it earlier, but it looks like he really only has that one Matilda. I flick my gaze back to his ice-blue eyes. Studying his face for a moment before I relent. "Don't sweat it, Lesley." I grab a couple more rounds from the box and work to finish the mag.

“Leon.”

"Sure." I move to return my headphones only for him to stop me with more blabbering.

"Marvin said you were FBI." The skepticism in his voice is expected. Hell, I wouldn't buy it either. "That true?"

I slam the full mag home with more force than necessary, pulling back the slide to chamber a round. I holster the sidearm and pull another empty mag to deposit the remaining three bullets. "What do you think?"

"You don't look like it," He purses his lips as I glare at him.

"Why's that?" Please go away already.

"You look like a teenager for one," He motions a hand up and down in my direction as if it were obvious. I know this POS is not judging my Led Zeppelin tee with that hair. You try kicking ass in khakis!

I scrunch my nose, turning my attention back to Marvin when the empty ammo box no longer warrants it. "And you don't?"

"You got a badge?"

I give Leon a bored look, standing as I make a show of shoving my hand into my pocket. He watches me curiously as I fish around a bit, finally pulling out my empty hand with the bird locked and loaded. I throw it into his irritatingly handsome face, and he makes an expression as if he expected as much.

"Damn, I think it's in my other apocalypse pants." More like I lost it. Sorry, Hanson.

He rolls his eyes, shoves my middle finger out of his bubble, and turns to Marvin. "Alright Lieutenant, I'm ready."

Ready to die? Get in line, buddy.

"Hopefully you'll be able to find a way outta this station.” Marvin starts to explain, and hands Leon the bloody notebook with a hiss. “Elliot thought this secret passageway might do the trick." My jaw ticks at the mention of the late officer, forsaking the stairs to peek around Leon's shoulder.

"This is good news," Leon says, looking at the drawings absently before I snag them from his hand. "We can get you to a hospital,"

"NO!" Marvin snaps, his breathing more labored with each word, "No… I am not the priority here—"

"Lieutenant, I'm not just gonna leave you here—"

I tune them out, turning up my Walkman's volume and looking over Elliot's scribblings. I knew he was obsessed with getting out through some tunnels under the statue, but I didn't think it could be legit. I still don't fully believe it, but what other option is there? I run my fingers over his rushed map, and my stomach twists. I shouldn't have dismissed him as I did. Maybe then he would have waited for me to investigate. Maybe he'd still be alive.

I turn the page to see three more illustrated statues, and flip it back to the map. My attention lingers on the depicted marbled woman, the one currently looming above me. I raise my head to look at the structure, seeing the three circular slots in its base. It's like the drawings imply, but could putting medallions in them really make the whole thing move? I crouch down to analyze the slots closely, my fingertips grazing their edges. The metal is cold and smooth to the touch, with no signs of any triggers that I can tell.

"Amy!"

"Yeah?" I toss over my shoulder, my eyes still boring into the statue.

"How many times do I gotta say it? C'mere," Marvin orders, and I click off the music to trudge over. I guess it's my turn to get chewed out. "Keep an eye on him, will ya?" Or not... "Leon's quick, but he's got a good heart. I'm worried he's too trusting,"

"Pfft, yeah right." Trusting is not a word I'd use.

"I mean it, Amy. You guys get out... Got it?"

The desperation in his words strikes a chord in me, and the hints of my smile finally fall from my face. He's asking a lot more of me than watching out for Leon. I can tell. He's asking me to end this without him. I can see it in his eyes, and it makes me want to yell, to scream, to beg.

"Marvin..." I grit out, but the words get lost in the lump returning to my throat.

He's going to die.

It's not a fear, it's a fact. A cold truth that spills from the cracks to pool around my ankles until it's deep enough to swallow me whole. I can't drown, not now. Not here.

"Amy." Marvin draws me back, "Promise me... Don't be stupid,"

I swipe a stray droplet from my face, avoiding his eyes with a faint chuckle, "You know stupid's my design flaw." He doesn't look amused. "I promise."

Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar.

He gives me a weak smile, extending a radio for me to take. "Good. Now get moving."

I take a breath, steeling myself for the inevitable road ahead. Marvin has always reminded me of Peters, even now it's like I can see him in his eyes. Maybe that's why I could never bring myself to lie to him. Until now.

"It's been an honor, Lieutenant."

-<><><><><>-<><><><><>-

"Listen closely, Lincoln," I demand, holding up my hand to stop him, the other gripping the doorknob to the West Hall. "I'm gonna give you the RPD 411 on how not to die horrendously."

He gives me an impatient nod and I can't help but smile.

"Rule number one, keep a level head and don't go in guns blazing. Ammo is scarce and guns are loud, keep your distance and avoid what you can. Most importantly, make your shots count. Second. If you're bit, that's it. So lemme handle the undead ass-whooping—"

"And what if you're bitten?" He cuts in, tugging his sleeves. I stare at him for a moment, lips pursed into a thin line. The bandage around my ankle itches as I look away.

"Go on without me." I shrug.

“No way!” His eyes dig into me, a mix of God-knows behind them. There goes that plan.

"Then it's a good thing that won't happen," I force my smile, opening the door and waving him through. "Ladies first."

He huffs and shoots a glance at me as he slips inside, flashlight raised high. I close the door behind us and follow at his heels, keeping my eyes out for any suspicious corpses. The hall's completely dark, the only light other than us drifting from the window at the end. It's so still compared to the last time I was here, ignoring the ear-splitting static screeching through the space.

"This is not how I imagined my first day." Leon breathes, and I snort in agreement. Now that’s a statement I can get behind.

We take a few steps in, a voice breaking through the radio static. Our lights land on the cop's body slumped ahead of us. We approach the corpse slowly, and I frown at the sight.

Krrrch-cchkkk-kkr— This is 73—KKRCHK— rescue heading east—KKKKCH-CH—

He crouches down, shining his flashlight on the guy's face. I can feel my stomach turning when he goes to lift his head, the screams replaying in my mind. I look away.

"Eugh, what the fuck?"

CLUNK!

We both swivel around, weapons trained at the hanging officer beyond us. Bile bubbles in the back of my throat as the images demand to resurface. I forgot he was there.

"Something just fell," I shake the memories away, reholstering my Glock.

"What happened here?" Leon grimaces, shining his light on the dangling cop while I keep my gaze on the windows.

"Trust me. You don't wanna know."

The edge in my voice must have been enough warning, because he nods grimly and turns to analyze the rest of the hallway. I follow behind him as we continue our stroll through the place, keeping my eyes fixed on his back to avoid the story painted by our surroundings. But despite my efforts, the feeling in my gut doesn't ease up.

It's too calm.

Chaos, I can handle. Quiet? Not so much. The lack of, well anything, only leaves me more wound up. Stillness meant it was only a matter of time until they returned. Would it be hours? Days? Or the next few minutes. The thought made me crazy. It makes me crazy now. One of those things could drop from the ceiling. A zombie could tumble through a window and sink its teeth into Leon. There's no way of knowing.

My nose connects with his shoulder blade and I step back with a groan. "Hey, what the hell?"

RArGh! Thump—

Speak of the devil.

The infected woman beats against the glass, snarling all the while. Leon trains his gun on her instinctively, but I shake my head and push his arm down. "Rule number one," I remind him.

We rush around the corner, our eyes fixed on the window until the inevitable crash sounds throughout the tight space. I handle her easily, stabbing her a few extra times until she stops wriggling. I quickly stomp her head in and scrunch my nose as I shake the brain matter from my boot.

"Don't try that at home, kids." I grin as I pass the spectating Leon, smacking him in the chest with the back of my gory hand. I don't even have to look at his face to know he's cringing.

I crack open the red double doors of the operations room, shining my light around the familiar space wearily. Everything looks the same, except for the few corpses I remember leaving behind. But where did they go? My eyes slink past every corner, landing on the sloppy stack of chairs to the left. A red box rests on the edge of one, singing my name as I realize what it is.

Oh, hell yeah.

I grab the 9mm and the weightlessness of the box rips off my rose-tinted glasses. There's only a measly five rounds. I stare at it as if my attention might duplicate the number but no luck. Still, I suppose it's better than nothing.

I pull the partial mag from my belt, stopping myself when I remember my extra baggage.

"Hey, College Boy," I turn to shake the box in his direction, only to find him engrossed with the paper in his hands. I walk up to his spot by the desk and tap the box on his arm. "How low are you?"

His eyes snap to me and he hesitates, pocketing the paper before checking his person. "Uhm... ten."

"Someone wasn't counting," I ignore how he shifts under my eyes, small mercies and shit, "Here's five, then we'll be even."

I set the box on the desk in front of him and move to sit on the stack of pallets behind us. I make one last scan of the room, noting the shattered window above me. I stand up on the pallets to get a better view. Yellow tape hangs from the ledge that's still several inches above me, but I can reach my arms to it just fine.

"That should lead to the rest of the hall," Leon states, ripping a paper map from the chalkboard. "Can you reach it?"

"Of course I can. The hell?" I glare down at him before returning my attention to the window, grasping its ledge and hoisting myself onto it. I get my feet braced beneath me and stall in the pane, avoiding the jagged glass around me as I observe the new area. A pounding sound fills my ears from the right, but I can't get a good look without faceplanting from the window. I eye the floor below me and take a breath.

Here goes.

I drop to the tile and immediately flash my light at the sound. The sight of a larger zom-cop banging on a vending machine is the first thing that greets me. I keep my ear on him and turn to my left. The hall's been blocked with anything and everything, a civilian corpse lying out in front of the mess. Another box of ammo rests next to it, and I snag it as Leon lands not-so-quietly behind me. Jesus, is he made of lead?

I toss him the 9mm box and hold my finger to my lips as soon as he looks at me. The zom-cop hasn't noticed either of us, so we should try to keep it that way. It's not our place to interrupt his advances on the machine.

"Think he needs a quarter?" Leon whispers.

I stifle a smile and slap him on the back. "C'mon, we're on a schedule."

We sneak around the corner the best we can, and the banging stops. Deep growls replace the noise, and Leon has two bullets in the bastard's skull as soon as I turn around.

It flops to the floor, and it'd be a lie to say I'm not impressed. Marvin wasn't lying when he said this guy's fast.

"Eighteen." He shrugs as I analyze him a bit longer than necessary. "I'm counting."

"Good job, Scout." I beam sarcastically, giving him a double thumbs-up. "Keep at it, and you might just earn your survival patch."