hii! my name is kitty and i love leon kennedy :3 this is one of my sideblogs specifically for resident evil content so that is all you will find here! i love to chat so feel free to leave asks, comments and reblogs!
i didn’t think this needed to be said but in case it wasn’t obvious, this blog is anti-ai. do not interact and promote ai in any way ESPECIALLY when referencing my work. you will promptly be blocked.
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more about me: 21, libra, third-year university student, caffeine addict, lover of big men and women, i have three cats, i live with my bf <3, emo emo emo!
what you'll find here:
i LOVE to write angst, i also write some fluff, i'm dabbling into horror and will possibly write some suggestive scenes but probably not a full smut scene
i DO NOT write for dark content (incest, rape, cnc, etc.) so if you request it i will block you <3
main blog: @smh-yoon (dc universe based fics, older works including anime)
other sideblog: @creeps-kitty (for creepypasta works)
MASTERLIST
{credit to @cursed-carmine and @thecutestgrotto for dividers <3}
leon kennedy who is ready to settle down and retire after years of being manipulated and endangered by the government
who has dedicated his life to a better cause, sure, but he has nothing and no one
except for his dear sherry, practically his daughter, his sweet niece rose, his new friend grace and her newfound companion emily, and chris and hunnigan and jill and claire who have always had his back and been by his side
he no longer feels empty, a sinking pit of loneliness filled piece by piece of the people he loved
and you..
you who had endured his silence, his pain. who had coveted his warmth when his skin laid cold as a corpse, who coaxed his mind gently to sanity, who remained an anchor in trying times
leon kennedy who finally finds peace after these long decades in a small cabin surrounded by forest, accompanied by fresh tomatoes and your favorite homemade pickles.
leon kennedy who is ready to settle down and retire after years of being manipulated and endangered by the government
who has dedicated his life to a better cause, sure, but he has nothing and no one
except for his dear sherry, practically his daughter, his sweet niece rose, his new friend grace and her newfound companion emily, and chris and hunnigan and jill and claire who have always had his back and been by his side
he no longer feels empty, a sinking pit of loneliness filled piece by piece of the people he loved
and you..
you who had endured his silence, his pain. who had coveted his warmth when his skin laid cold as a corpse, who coaxed his mind gently to sanity, who remained an anchor in trying times
leon kennedy who finally finds peace after these long decades in a small cabin surrounded by forest, accompanied by fresh tomatoes and your favorite homemade pickles.
leon kennedy who is ready to settle down and retire after years of being manipulated and endangered by the government
who has dedicated his life to a better cause, sure, but he has nothing and no one
except for his dear sherry, practically his daughter, his sweet niece rose, his new friend grace and her newfound companion emily, and chris and hunnigan and jill and claire who have always had his back and been by his side
he no longer feels empty, a sinking pit of loneliness filled piece by piece of the people he loved
and you..
you who had endured his silence, his pain. who had coveted his warmth when his skin laid cold as a corpse, who coaxed his mind gently to sanity, who remained an anchor in trying times
leon kennedy who finally finds peace after these long decades in a small cabin surrounded by forest, accompanied by fresh tomatoes and your favorite homemade pickles.
SYNOPSIS— leon kennedy breaks your heart for the last time, and as shitty as you feel about it, you break up with him the day before he begins his new job. you ignore his drunk calls and texts, heart aching and tears drying on your cheeks. the next morning, the unimaginable happens. you spend the next few years trying to survive, regretting leaving behind the love of your life. he searches for you as ardently, keeping you close to his heart as his hope slowly begins to fade, coming to terms with the fact you might have died that fateful day. until one day, he finds proof that you're still alive, and he vows to find you no matter what.
GENRE — angst/comfort, some action, romance, fluff, yearning
PAIRING — re2! leon kennedy, re4! leon kennedy, ex bf! leon kennedy x fem! reader
A/N — OMG it is HERE!! based off of this drabble, i decided i needed to make this a complete fic :33 i LOVE leon kennedy and i love re9 it's so good and seeing leon age like the finest of whiskeys is what i needed in life. this is my first time writing for him so i hope you all like! :p
"What are you- what? No, you can't just-"
You paid no mind to Leon's stuttering as you continued shoving your things into the small duffle bag you'd brought to his apartment. It seemed bittersweet, that you had just finished helping him move, fully intending to let your own things collect until you found a new home with him.
The plan was to quietly pack your things while he was at work and throw the bag in your car, then break it off clean when he got home. Instead, he came back almost two hours early, a bottle of wine in a crinkled brown paper bag and a stack of takeout boxes wrapped neatly in a branded plastic bag.
He had all but thrown the food to the side when he realized what you were doing, rushing over just to stand helplessly at you side, reaching out to you but never touching you.
It's not like you didn't love Leon anymore, that wasn't the reason you were leaving, quite the opposite in fact. It was no secret that Leon had reckless tendencies, something you hoped he would soon grow out of. But learning he had all but thrown your concerns out the window and entered the police force amidst a restless society, getting a call that he had died on the job was a reality you weren't ready to accept.
You loved Leon more than anything, and you would rather leave than ever see him get hurt, as selfish as you felt and thought your actions were.
"We can work this out, just tell me what I did wrong, you don't have to leave-"
"Leon, enough," you sighed, feeling the tears stinging in your eyes as you tried to tune out the desperation in his voice.
He was young, he was unsure of himself, but full of passion and searching for his life's purpose. Loss had been no stranger to him, bits and pieces of his family's death revealed after time, the reason behind his intentions of becoming an officer. Though you felt as though you knew Leon plenty, there was an undeniable wall around his heart, one you feared you would never get through.
As you finished zipping up your bag, making sure you had taken at least most of your things, you stood and turned towards the lone doorway that would lead you out of his life for good.
Instead of a peaceful goodbye, a reaction unlike Leon in every way, stubborn and headfast as he was, he stood still in the doorway. His blue eyes pierced yours as you finally met his gaze, and this time, the tears did come. Streams fell from your eyes, warm and sorrowful as you tried to ignore the shimmering of his eyes.
"Just at least tell me why, why are you leaving?"
His voice, low and hurt pierced the silence and echoed in the walls of your head. If only he knew that he was perfect, everything you had ever wanted and more, there was nothing left for him to change.
You just shook your head, letting out a heavy breath. Nothing you could say would ever get through to him.
"I just can't do this Leon. I'm sorry."
Leaving Leon was the hardest thing you ever had to do, passing by the small congratulatory card you had made for him when he told you he'd gotten his new job, unaware to his decision and the complete details. How naive you were, how in love you had been to hold him back from his life pursuits.
This way, he could live his life helping people the way he always dreamed of, and you could be at peace knowing you would never hear of his death.
Now, you wished you had never left him.
Your car was low on gas, though that did not deter you from settling your foot on the gas pedal of the car, swerving around walking corpses starving for living flesh.
And what of Leon?
You had heard the voice through the static of the radio, instructions to head to the police department for safety and medical assistance. When the sirens sounded, he was the first person on your mind.
Dead bodies piled in front of the staircase. It was eerily silent, an air of dread and death filling the air, suffocating you. The chance never came to step inside.
The passenger side window shattered with the force of a body slamming against it, a terrifying inhumane roar sounding throughout the silence. Bloodied hands reached lazily in through the gap, dripping along the pale upholstery of your interior.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.."
The gearshift seemed to move on its own as you threw the car into reverse, speeding your way back towards the city limits.
It was lucky you had packed your necessities.
ᡕᠵデᡁ᠊╾━
Leon was familiar with the premise of fighting to survive. He was an orphan himself, after all. He was not adverse to the brutal reality of persevering through the worst.
Images of you flashed in his vision with every step forward, bloody and torn, screaming as you reached out to him. Only his worst nightmare of losing you could go from a breakup to a zombie apocalypse. He felt like he was just waiting to wake up.
He had made it through the worst of it, he thought.
The police station was searched thoroughly, he'd found the underground Umbrella lab, he'd survived and had been recruited to work for the government, even saving a little girl along the way. Try as he might, he couldn't convince the agents rushing him towards the waiting helicopter to let him comb over the city once more, his eyes frantically roaming the chaos-ridden streets for any sign that you were alive.
He found none.
For the next few years, he was assigned various jobs. Most of them endangered his life, most of them wore down on his resolve. Each time he came across a body that looked a little too much like you he had to force himself to look away and swallow the knot in his throat.
It wouldn't be long until he would be able to resume his search for you.
He hated himself for letting himself get caught up in his grief. Each time he embraced another woman, no matter how stunning, no matter how entranced he had been, his mind always drifted back to you.
Would it be better off if he just moved on? Would the ghost of you stop haunting him, plaguing him with vivid images of the various deaths you could've befallen at this point?
Soon he learned that few survivors aside from himself and Sherry, the little girl he'd found, remained alive from the outbreak in Racoon City.
A hush had fallen over the office the day of, just hours before the nuke was dropped. He remembered the twisting of his chest, like an invisible knife had been thrust inside and turned like a cog, tangling with the flesh of his lungs and filled his esophagus with thick blood. That was before he had even learned of what happened.
That was perhaps the first time Leon had ever become so destructive.
Not only had he barged into conference rooms and yelled at the top of his lungs, he'd broken the old wooden furniture that resided in his hollow apartment, splinters littering the floor. He wept when he thought of you, how you'd scold him for the mess.
He wasn't the same after that day.
Hardened, cold, uninterested. All he was concerned about was saving more people, trying to atone for his sin of letting you slip from his grasp.
Pain consumed him like a fire and a gasoline-dipped match.
Every night was shared with whatever hard liquor he could get his hands on, though the bottle of aged scotch you had gifted him for his twenty-first birthday remained sealed, tucked away in his cabinets.
Spain had given him a breath of fresh air. Grief did not follow him through the rich city, did not drag behind him like a sad dog.
Guilt returned once he retrieved the president's daughter.
What was he doing?
What was the point of anything if you weren't there to experience it with him?
He thought of you, how much you would've loved the city, aside from the danger he regularly indulged in for his paycheck. He thought you might've picked the country for your honeymoon some day.
ᡕᠵデᡁ᠊╾━
Learning of the destruction of Racoon City was detrimental. It had shook you to your very core, leaving you restless most nights, mind endlessly creating scenarios in which Leon must have survived. He was a fighter, he had never been one to give up.
Settling in a small town was the best you could do for yourself over the few years since you had seen him. A lone glove from a pair of his remained in your bedside drawer, alongside a small glass trinket he'd bought for you at a rest stop when the two of you left for Racoon City. A worn and tarnished necklace remained fastened around your neck, his birthstone.
Each day was a fight to continue moving forward, learning where to get resources, how to grow your own food, making connections with your neighbors, learning basic aid, learning to protect yourself with more than the small handgun you had been gifted from Leon. He had been so worried for your safety since he was getting a new job.
You had headed a small search group in the town, along with two men and two women. Each venture beyond the barrier meant potential death.
It was your fourth journey out when you stumbled into a small ruined bunker a few miles outside of Racoon City. Empty, useless, and devoid of all traces of life.
As you did with every outing, you tucked a small embroidered cloth into the gap of an old drawer.
Silly as it felt, you knew Leon would recognize your shoddy handiwork, after all, you hadn't gotten any better since you had seen him last.
ᡕᠵデᡁ᠊╾━
Betrayal took away the pain of you for a short while.
Scorned by a woman who had once again taken his attention from your memory, he had an even stronger resolve to remain faithful to you, even though he had began to believe you really had been killed in the catastrophe long ago.
On the occasion, he found himself free of your memory. Your voice no longer carried along the wind, your scent no longer sweetening the blood and sweat of his own body, your touch no longer warm on his skin. In those moments, it was like you had never existed.
It felt wrong to be happy in those moments.
You had loved him so much, and he had loved you all the same. He knew how worried you were when he first mentioned the idea of becoming a police officer. It wasn't an easy conversation, but it had all but removed the ability to speak about it with you. He still felt guilt for never telling you about the academy, about his interview, until the very moment you began packing for Racoon City.
He remembered the look on your face, the tears that welled in your eyes, your resolve too strong to let them fall. It had almost been the end of your relationship that night, he had just barely convinced you to at least go with him.
With a sigh, he wiped the sweat from his forehead, grimacing lightly at the dirt that dragged along his skin. Searching through cupboards and digging through dusty piles of who-knows-what was getting tiring.
At first, he paid no mind to it.
His main concern was getting out without having to deal with anymore of the infected, gathering whatever nifty weapons, ammunition or supplies along the way. When his eyes drifted over the room, a bitter taste in his mouth he had seemingly wasted his time, a small movement caught his attention.
The wind drifted in through the broken windows in stray paths, barely enough to lift his hair, but enough to ruffle a small white cloth that hung from a drawer he had already checked.
There was no point in looking at it. Since the drawer had already been checked, what would be the point in examining some useless rag?
Still, he sighed and let his boots trudge against the worn wooden floors towards the drawer anyways. A tarnished brass handle, scratches at the legs from a small animal, a dog maybe. It was probably just a handkerchief from the poor souls who had lived there previously.
Like a violent wave crashed over him, he stumbled back. Blinking rapidly, heart stuttering in his chest, his shaking fingers delicately traced over the small red flower embroidered on the corner.
You had been smiling so widely the first time you had tried it, eager to find a way to patch up all the holes Leon had been getting in his jeans. He insisted he could always buy new ones, but you hated to see a tiny rip cause the waste of the nice brand of jeans he always wore.
Back then, you had patched up a small hole, maybe the size of a dime, on his thigh, matching the black denim as closely as you could. On the surface, no one could tell that it was a cute charm you had added.
"Now you can wear me with you wherever you go." you'd said.
His eyes scanned the area once more, frantically. Had you been here just moments ago? Hours, days, weeks, months? Had this been here for years, a call to find him, and he had been preoccupied with god knows what?
Clenching the fabric tightly in his hands, he felt his determination grip him once more.
You were out there, somewhere. You were searching for him all along, just like he had been searching for you. D.O.S. be damned, he was going continue looking for you until you were in his arms once more, flesh or bone.
ᡕᠵデᡁ᠊╾━
Once again, played like a puppet by the strings of fate, Leon was whisked away to another continent.
His frustration grew by the day, tormented by the physical strain he was beginning to notice more as time wore on, a sign of his age surely. His thirties so far had not been kind to him.
This time in his collision with Ada Wong, he was surprised to find her helping the D.S.O and B.S.A.A., making avoiding her more difficult. To his surprise, he had found himself lacking the same attraction towards he had a decade ago, the tension much looser than before.
Perhaps it had been you, perhaps it had been because she was not currently his enemy. Whatever it was, he had been sure to keep it nothing less than professional between them.
She had noticed.
Normally, they would banter back and forth, exchange seductive comments thinly veiled by their distaste towards one another. He had been quieter, more focused, more eager to return to the states.
She did not say anything when they parted ways.
Leon had searched nearly every inch within a fifty mile radius after finding what you had left for him.
In his search, he had uncovered three other pieces of you.
A small charm you had received from your favorite sushi restaurant, a california roll with an exaggerated grin. Next was an empty bottle of his cologne, the bottle he had just bought before his new job started. Most recently was a small pot you had made in a pottery class, uneven around the top and glazed too thickly in some places, but something you cherished anyways.
He had begun leaving his own trinkets, too.
Thus far he had left a shotgun bullet with your initials carved into the side from the tip of his knife, a small wooden cat he had picked up on his travels, and lastly, a handwritten note addressed to you.
It took him hours to put his thoughts onto paper, to choke out the feelings he had long locked away. He spoke of your presence that lingered beside him, the ache in his chest each time he thought of you, the longing that came with knowing you were alive, and he could be just on the other side of a door and he would never know.
Sherry, though still young, had been his closest confidant in his turmoil.
There wasn't exactly a wide dating pool in the D.S.O., but she could tell when he had made himself sick with love, ridden with a type of yearning that he may never fulfill.
Embarrassing as it was for him to open up to her, albeit leaving out most of the details, he took her advised.
He grumbled when he stepped foot into yet another abandoned home, feeling silly even in his solitude. No one would see that he had left this note for you here, but it was possible someone else would come across it. What then?
What would pouring his feelings out in ink mean if your eyes never laid upon the paper he had carefully folded, your name in his scratchy capitals?
Though the moment did not come.
Echoing footsteps raised his alarm, tucking the letter back into his pocket as he pressed himself against the wall, reaching for a gun on his hip.
An unintelligible murmur and hushed conversation carried down the corridor, accompanied by several pairs of soft footfalls and a quiet metal clicking of some kind.
They couldn't have been from any agency he was aware of, otherwise he would've been informed.
When he was sure they wouldn't see him, he peeked out around the corner, eyes narrowed and searching for any sort of threat first and foremost.
Two women and one man followed each other in procession, no gear of any kind adorning their bodies, holding only standard hand guns aside from a rifle strapped to one of the women's backs.
After a few moments of scanning the interior with their guns raised, a woman sighed and tucked her pistol away into a worn holster on her hip.
"This one's empty too. We have to keep searching."
The sound made Leon inhale sharply.
Suddenly, he realized that the stature of that woman was foreign to him, surely changed by time, by a familiar shade of hair, an inflection in her voice, the brown leather holster that had to be at least fifteen years old.
His body locked up before he could think.
He couldn't get his hopes up. There were plenty of women he had encountered over the years, alive, dead, infected and otherwise. Quite a few had a resemblance to you. This woman was no different, and he wasn't yet sure if she was up to no good.
"You two see if there's any other buildings near by, they could have a separate shed for supplies. I'm gonna have another sweep."
As if by fate, Leon and this woman had been left alone in this house.
He had only briefly adjusted to reaffirm his grip on his gun, holding in close to his shoulder as he continued to watch.
Slowly, she exhaled. Leaning her lower back against the top of a lounge chair, her eyes flickered up to the ceiling, closing gently. Still, he could not be certain.
Only when she reached into a small pouch on her side and reached inside did he briefly consider confronting her, lest she lay some sort of trap or dangerous item behind.
Instead, he watched as she carefully handled a small teddy bear. The original material was clearly worn, frayed and patchy, but it was stitched together again and again, covered in small brown flowers he could only catch in the light.
You moved to gently set it atop the chairs cushion, propping it against the back.
A gift from yours and Leon's first date, a stuffed animal he had won from the claw machine at the ripe age of nineteen. As fruitless as it seemed, it felt wrong to leave any place without saying goodbye to a piece of Leon. If anything, you would run out, and you would know for certain.
Heavy boots thudded against the floor, creaking under shifting weight down the hall as you jumped up hand reaching for the small pistol on your hip.
Before you could draw it, the world stilled.
The blonde had darkened over time, shoulders broadened and hands calloused by the horrors of the infected. Blue eyes clouded by years of fatigue, death and plague still shone when they met yours, caught in the sunlight filtering gently through the windows.
It was unbelievable, after all this time, but it was undoubtedly Leon Kennedy.
"Leon.." you breathed, body frozen in place.
He did the moving, long strides placing him in front of you in mere moments. His smell encompassed your senses, the feeling of his being at your side once more bringing a lightness to your chest you had lost so long ago.
His hands were gentle, though urgent as they cupped your cheeks in his hands, bringing himself in to kiss you.
Years of passion could not be conveyed in a single kiss, but if there was anything close to it, it was this moment.
Leon's hands moved to embrace you, pulling you tight against him, holding you as though you might disappear at any given moment.
You were here, you were real, you were alive.
The warmth of your skin radiating under his hands could not be faked, the way your body pressed against his in the way you two fit so perfectly together, like long missing pieces of a puzzle finally reunited. Your hands tangled in his hair, breath fanning across his lips when you parted for air.
Relief and sadness hit you simultaneously.
Tears dribbled down your cheeks, only to be kissed away by Leon as his hands ran up and down the expanse of your back.
He had aged, still as handsome as ever, but he scarcely the man you once knew. All of the years that had passed had been stolen from you, and trinkets and clues would not give that time back.
Crinkled paper resided in his pocket, still stained with his scratchy handwriting, still flourishing with words he had yet to say to you.
Instead of pulling it out and giving it to you, closest to his original plan of leaving it there, he let the silence settle between the two of you, heart pounding in his chest in a rush of revival. There would be time for him to detail the extent of his feelings for you, he would make sure of it.
You were in his arms once again, and that was more than he could ever ask for.
SYNOPSIS — so much of you still existing in the world, despite the fact that you have moved on to another world already. he wasn't young anymore, the years of pain and death have worn him down. sometimes, he craves the presence of you that he's been missing for thirty years, and all he has is framed pictures of you and a closet full of clothes you'll never wear again.
GENRE — mostly angst, some small scenes of romance/fluff
PAIRING — re2! leon kennedy, re4! leon kennedy, pre re9! leon kennedy x dead wife! fem! reader (feat. chris redfield)
WARNINGS — grief, cursing, canon violence and gore, depictions of depression, suicidal thoughts, and alcholism (w.c. - 5.2k)
A/N — yall are gonna hate me for this one... based on yet another one of my drabbles here, here is widowed leon!! this is going to be very sad i warn you, BUT i have some ideas for some fluffier/more suggestive things in the works i promise, enjoy the angst for now :3 long intro lowkey
A quiet piano melody echoed throughout the small local bar. Hushed clinking of glasses and tender conversation shared between friends and strangers vibrated in the air.
The heavy taste of whiskey was dull and brittle as the liquid slid down Leon's throat, finishing off his third glass of the night.
In a few hours, it would hit midnight, signaling the next day coming with a lulled dusk over the small town he was staying in. Missions never stopped him from enjoying a drink, neither did the stitches in his side.
Heavy hands landed upon his shoulders, a familiar voice ringing in his ear as Chris slid onto the barstool next to him.
"Hey Kennedy, isn't it a little late for a drink?"
Leon waved his hand at the bartender, sliding his empty glass towards them and watched as it was filled once again with some overpriced crap he couldn't be bothered to know the name of. It's not like it mattered what it was, anyways, as long as it got him buzzed.
"There's a time limit for hydrating now?"
His gruff voice was muffled by the atmosphere. No one had been dumb enough to approach him, clearly wallowing by himself like a cliche scene from a movie.
If this were a movie, he'd get his happy ending. He wouldn't be stuck here waiting for god knows what.
"I don't think hydrating your liver counts, I think it does the opposite actually."
Chris muttered as he ordered his own drink, taking a short sip of his draft beer and twisting his lips at the taste before taking another drink.
"What's the count this year?"
"An even thirty."
Thirty years.
It had been thirty years since Leon had lost you forever, since he had been the one to put an end your existence in the sick poetic way of the world in which he ended your chapter at the beginning of another.
For a few moments there was a tense silence between the two, though friends and colleagues, Chris could never really approach Leon on the subject of his late wife. The first time he had ever commented on the ring, shortly after he returned to the states after the downfall of Umbrella in Europe, it was meant to be a joke, a stab at how his sister wouldn't have a chance with "one of the good ones".
The mood soured when he saw the previously content expression fall from Leon's face, his fingers tenderly rubbing over the simple silver ring.
Claire had really given him an earful that night.
Since then, he had known better than to broach the topic. All he had were glimpses of your portraits after carrying a much too drunk Leon home, only to be quickly shooed out. Occasionally, quite rarely, Leon would take a small smile to his face without saying a word, and somehow, Chris knew it had to be about you.
Leon's fingers traced up and down the sides of the glass, staring into the liquor, dazed by his own reflection.
Had it really been thirty years already?
His face had aged, sure, small crinkles by his eyes and mouth, not that he minded much. Though he was still in good shape thanks to the training facilities of the D.S.O. headquarters, he knew he didn't have long until his joints couldn't hold him the way the do now.
Fluttering thoughts of you flitted through his mind. Surely, you would be greying by now, he'd always thought you would look beautiful as long as you lived. He was sure you would say something cynical about yourself to him in an offhanded comment, a habit he'd tried his best to rid you of, and he would sweep you into his grasp, warm and gentle, pressing tender kisses to your skin until you smiled so brightly he would never need the sun again.
A brutal reality check shattered his illusion when he felt a light hand placed upon his shoulder, a strange perfume filling his nose.
"Hey boys, me and my friends are playing a game. Wanna join us?"
Leon didn't need to spare her a glance to know her intentions, not that she had been the first. Like many before her, she was speaking kindly, though it did bother him that she was touching him so candidly, but she was none the wiser to the internal turmoil he faced.
"No, thanks."
Shrugging his shoulder politely, Leon lifting the glass to his mouth and ignored the tightening of his stomach as the drink poured in, finishing half before setting it back down on the counter. He reached into his pockets for some bills before waving the bartender back over and handing it to them.
"I'm gonna get some air," he muttered.
Chris could only shoot the woman a tight smile, placing his own cash on the counter before following Leon out.
The night air was unkind, whipping against his cheeks as he trudged down the sidewalk, no destination in mind. He was drunk, or at least on his way to being drunk, and walking the whole town three times over might be enough to make him forget.
Though of course footsteps followed him, catching up and stepping in tune with him as he languidly put one foot in front of the other.
There was a tightness in his throat that couldn't be attributed to the alcohol, and as he tried his damnedest, he couldn't help the words from spilling out.
"She was the most amazing woman I've ever met. I can't believe I've been alive for thirty years without her."
Silence befell the two of them once more, chilled crickets chiming in with song as they continued on.
For a moment, Chris had half a mind to make a comment about his sister or the infamous Ada Wong, or even the president's daughter who had a clear interest in him. Leon was still eye-candy to women everywhere he went, as much as Chris hated to admit it.
He struggled to find the words. Claire had tried to get Leon to open up about his wife herself, always met with an impenetrable wall.
"Can you tell me about her?"
Leon's steps came to a slow stop, like molasses dripping from a bottle, rooting themselves to the worn down cemented sidewalk.
Now it felt like he had been sobered up, any traces of intoxication gone in the harsh wind that continued to whip past his face. If he was going to recite the feelings he'd bottled up for the past three decades, he was going to do so somewhere he could take off his damn boots.
Thankfully Chris had been prepared and drove in his jeep instead of his typical motorcycle, eliminating the chance of a much too awkward circumstance neither of them wanted to picture.
The ride was short and uneventful, accompanied by the old shitty stereo that Chris had blown out one day by seeing how high the bass could go, playing whatever country song was popular in the little town they were staying in. Static filled the air until Chris turned off the ignition and the humming of the engine died.
Leon remained silent as he followed Chris inside, allowing Chris to set a glass of water in front of him, not that he would drink it.
Silence encompassed the two of them for the next half hour.
Chris knew better than to press Leon about talking about you, especially since he had learned more about you in this one night than he had ever known in all his years of knowing Leon. He had seen Leon through some of the lowest of lows, and while Leon had yet to get sober, he knew he was just beginning to get better.
That is, until he spotted the black veining on his skin for the first time.
It was just in passing, and he took it to be a bruise from some sort training or drunken stupor the night before. Soon Leon's skin was veining in various places, on his hands, up his neck, in places Chris couldn't see. Leon was dying, and somehow, Chris knew it had to be connected to the incident in Racoon City.
His suspicions were confirmed when he saw the same marks on Sherry, and the first dead body showed up. He wasn't on those jobs, but any word about Leon spread quickly around the office.
Leon could tell Chris was waiting for him to speak, patiently sitting beside him. As much as he hated to burden others, Chris had been a constant in a continuously shifting world, someone he didn't have to protect.
It felt embarrassing, to be in his fifties, feeling his throat swell with the pain he had pushed down so far decades ago. Vulnerability had never been his strong suit, even when you were alive.
Finally, when Chris had moved to grab himself a cheap beer from his much too bare fridge, Leon let out a sigh and leaned back in his chair at the dining table.
The memory comes to him slowly, warming in his chest like a hot chocolate after a day in the snow, a warm blanket wrapped around his shoulders beside a fire as his fingers tremble with wetness, kissed by snowflakes.
"We met when I was nineteen."
Your laugh pierces the air, squealing as Leon scoops you over his shoulder, his teasing overcast by the sound of your pleas as he approaches the edge of the dock. The water sparkled with speckles of sunlight, your skin covered in droplets of water, your swimsuit soaking his skin.
"Leon, no- stop! Please, I'm sorry! You're better than my fake boyfriend, I swear!"
Leon's smile shine brilliantly as he shakes his head, blonde hair sopping wet, stopping at the edge of the water. He pretends to think for a minute, then plunges the both of you into the water, your scream deafened by the sound of the water encasing you.
When you come back up for air, he's already laughing, pushing his hair back and wiping the reside from his eyes.
It takes a dinner and dessert for him to make it up to you, but you end the night by kissing him so sweetly his nearly falls to his knees at your doorstep.
"She worked at a small corner store, it was when I first moved from my hometown, before the academy."
The quiet bell on the door sounded throughout the shop, perking your attention from the backroom where you snuck texts back and forth with your boyfriend at the time.
Upon seeing Leon enter the store, languidly shopping the aisles, finally stepping up to the counter with a cheap pack of donuts, you couldn't help but satiate your curiosity. You scanned the pack casually, looking over him as he began to pull out his wallet.
"Nothing more nutritious, huh?"
He just glanced up at you, confused for a moment before setting a bill on the counter.
"Oh, yeah.."
You smiled, putting the pack of donuts in a small paper sack, slipping in a bottle of juice from the cooler beside the counter.
"Oh, I didn't-"
"You need more than that crap."
Blinking, he slowly nodded his head, hesitantly reaching out for the paper bag as he pushed the bill forward once more.
"Okay.. is that enough?"
Only shaking your head, you slid the bill back over and smiled once more.
"You're new around here. I'm letting you have it for free today, only because I want you to come around again, okay?"
Leon's face must've turned beet red, he was sure, the way the heat flooded his skin. He remembered the way his hands shook nervously as he took the bill back, trying to engrave your face into his mind as he walked back to his Jeep. He returned the very next day, and every day after that for two weeks straight.
Eventually, he had warmed up to you, used to your flirtatious behavior and teasing, and he had also learned of your boyfriend. Whatever feelings had been festering up until that point were shoved down to whatever depths they could reach, his desperate attempt to keep seeing you. If you had learned of his little crush, you would surely ban him from the store, get your boyfriend to jump him, something.
Instead of that, he found the store empty just days later, hearing only the sound of your crying in the back of the store.
He had pushed his luck for the night, stepping behind the counter and into the back room where you leapt into his arms, sobbing into his chest.
As happy as he thought he would have been to learn you no longer had a boyfriend, the sight of your tears took hold of him in a dangerous way, sadness and fury flowing through him all at once.
After that night he vowed he would do everything he could to make you happy, even if that meant just remaining as friends.
Except, somewhere along the way, a drunken kiss and almost a night together ruined whatever semblance of friendship the two of you had and turned into something deeper. The result was of course, Leon tentatively asking to be your boyfriend with a bouquet of flowers and a key-chain based on your favorite TV show.
Chris hummed, taking a small sip of his beer and setting the bottle down quietly against the counter.
"So, you stole her from her boyfriend then got drunk and confessed to her? Sounds like you were a real charmer," he grinned.
Leon smiled to himself, just slightly. He nodded and took a breath before he continued.
Tears littered your lashes prettily as you desperately tried to push back the water threatening to ruin all the time you spent perfecting your makeup for the night.
Leon was no stranger to doing nice things for you, taking you out to dinner and buying you gifts, and while he wasn't rich, he was thoughtful and genuine which made it all the more meaningful.
When he had told you he had planned a surprise for you at the lake where the both of you spent your first summer together, you knew he had planned something, but you had never expected something this grand.
Candles littered the dock, scattered rose petals leading to the edge where a small boat with wooden oars rested gently atop the water.
"I just wanted to give you a romantic memory here, instead of remembering me losing my shorts and having to wear your skirt home."
He had stepped into the boat, holding his hand out to help you step down. As soon as you had sat down, smoothing the skirt of your dress over your legs, he was rowing the two of you out to the open water.
The dim glow of the candlelight glimmered against the surface of the water as the ripples from Leon's rowing flowed outwards. Solitude and serenity encompassed the two of you as the boat finally came to a stop, the candlelight just a gentle shine.
Heart racing in his chest, Leon tried to swallow his nerves, tried to tell himself that everything would be okay, that you had been clear about the future you wanted with him, it had been nearly two years, after all. You had been the one to encourage him to work towards something greater with his life, to push him to want to be a better person. If he was going to spend the rest of his life with someone, he wanted it to be you.
You had caught on the minute you had seen the boat, your whole body thrumming with anticipation. It was clear he was trying to work up his courage, and when he finally reached for his pocket, the water works started.
"Uh.. Listen, I just.. I feel like.."
He cleared his throat, trying to get a hold of himself. This moment was supposed to win you over, he couldn't ruin it by stumbling over his words like an idiot!
"I love you, more than anyone I have ever known. You are the most kind, most interesting, most intelligent person I have ever known and.."
Finally he revealed the small black box, smooth and simple, trembling along with his hands.
The tears spilled over, a smile coming over your face as you tried to restrain yourself from jumping into his arms before he had the chance to finish his speech.
"Just.. will you marry me?" he spit out.
As soon as the words left his mouth you leapt forward, crying as you pressed your lips to his, his arms coming to circle around your waist as the boat rocked beneath you.
"Yes, of course, yes!"
Chris tried to hide the smile that came to his lips. He had never known Leon to be the romantic type, much less the type to be so nervous around women. Always unaffected and uninterested, but at least now it was beginning to make more sense.
"We went to the courthouse the next day to sign the papers. I had no parents to be there, and she had issues with her own family, we just had another random couple in the lobby be our witnesses."
The image of you in your dress came to his mind, and he took a moment before digging into his pocket and pulling out his wallet.
Flipping open the worn leather, he turned the clear pocket towards Chris.
Inside was a picture from the day, your dress, by no means an extravagant gown, but beautiful on you nonetheless. The joy on your face was proof of your radiance. You were beautiful, Chris didn't blame Leon for being so taken with you.
"I entered the academy after that. Swore I was gonna save up to give her the wedding she deserved, she kept telling me to save the money."
"Everyone give it up for Officer Kennedy!" you cheered.
Gathered around Leon were various people he had met during his time at the academy, a few of your family members, and some of the mutual acquaintances you had introduced him to once the two of you became official.
He had smiled so brightly, laughing and cheering as he took a generous gulp from his pint.
The bar was nearly overcrowded with the group of people celebrating him, the occasional stranger swinging by to wish him a congratulations before returning to their own drinking.
A string pinched his chin lightly, tied to a cheesy paper hat that sat atop his blonde hair. As embarrassed as he wanted to feel having all of the attention on him, seeing the lengths you went to celebrate him for something he had been doing to better himself and make a positive impact on the world, he refused to let his insecurity sour the night.
Less than an hour later, multiple drinks in his system, Leon was stumbling to you, grinning like an idiot as he reached out to grab your hand a place a kiss upon your ring finger where the simple band resided.
"This is all for us," he hiccupped.
You smiled so sweetly, bid him goodbye as you left him safely with his friends, eager to get back to the apartment the two of you had just moved into together and get a head start on helping Leon get settled in for the night.
"It couldn't have been more than an hour. She left, and I got a few more drinks, told one of the other rookies that I wanted to go home to see my wife.. He laughed and carried me out, dropped me off in front of the building."
The lightness in his chest at your memory, the memories of your happiest times together, slowly began to fade as the knot returned in the back of his throat.
Clenching his fists, he tried to push back the stinging in his eyes. He had never cried in front of Chris before, but it seemed like the night had lowered his inhibitions the way liquor had done before.
Leon stumbled up the two flights of stairs to the third floor, where his new apartment with you resided. He was hiccupping and sighing, eyes drowsy as the excitement from the night began to die down.
Maybe if he had drank a little less, left a little earlier, he wouldn't have missed the trail of blood, droplets and smears, that lined the carpet leading to your shared apartment door. He saw them only when he reached for the doorknob, the pristine door tinted with a bloodied partial handprint.
He sobered up almost instantaneously, his hands trembling as he shakily turned the knob, the door unlocked.
It was silent as he opened the door, eerie and still.
Swallowing thickly, he tried to clear his head, to act rationally, to have some self preservation. Instead, he ignored his gun set atop the small cabinet by the door and hurried into the bedroom, his heart pulsating in his ears.
"No, no, no.."
Had you been followed home? Did someone break in? What if you just slipped and fell, and you fell unconscious before he had the chance to come home?
Horrific scenarios continued to cloud Leon's mind, racing faster than his own heart as he reached the bedroom door.
Without hesitating he opened the door, stepping inside, searching frantically for your figure, any proof that you were here, that you were okay.
The trail of blood only continued, thickening and glistening in the small amount of light that filtered in through the window panes. A pool of blood in the corner made his breath catch in his throat, bile rising as staining his tongue with the taste.
He rushed forward, reaching out to your crumpled body that laid against the floor.
"Please, come on.. please this can't be real.."
Hot tears flooded his eyes, streaming down his cheeks like waterfalls and stinging his skin and flushing his cheeks once again without the influence of beer.
Your skin was already too cold, too drained of circulation, too mangled with various bite marks, deep chunks of flesh ripped from your bone.
It made Leon sick to look at, never having seen anything like it in his life. At the same time, he couldn't tear himself away from you, ignoring the way your blood soaked his clothes, the jagged edges of your skin pressing against him as he held you to his chest.
"No, wake up. Wake up, wake up."
His lungs were burning as he cried out, clenching his eyes shut, trying hopelessly to tell himself this was all a bad dream, that you would shake him awake any moment and kiss his forehead and fall asleep in his arms once more.
Instead, you roused, groaning lowly and twitching in his grasp.
He reaches forward, turning your face towards him, feeling relief wash over him in a superficial manner. You were bleeding out, but if you were alive, that meant he could get you help, it meant he wasn't too late.
Your eyes were glassy, glazed over with a sickening film that covered the eyes he loved so much. Your lips were dry, cracked and stained with blood, your skin lifeless. The sounds that were leaving your mouth were guttural, animal, inhuman.
Leon's eyes searched over you, confusion settling atop his devastation like a piece of junk mail stacked atop an existing pile.
Something was wrong, very wrong.
You continued to growl, to moan, to shudder as you pulled yourself from Leon, skin slick with blood.
"Baby, what.. what happened..?"
Voice trembling, Leon felt like his entire throat had closed up, helplessly watching as you pushed yourself onto your hands, your legs still torn and shredded from whatever had attacked you.
When you looked at him once more, a cold sweat of terror washed over him. You bared your teeth, no longer shining, nothing close to the smile you usually wore when you saw him. It was as if you were warning him, scaring him off, telling him to get away.
He had been on his knees up until this point, the joints aching with pain against the hard floor.
Before he could react, you had thrown yourself forward, snarling and clawing at his clothes, spit dripping down your chin messily.
He scrambled backwards, chest heaving. What was he supposed to do? Was this some sort of rabies strain? What could've done all of this to you? What was he supposed to do?
You cried out again, piercing his eardrums and making his body still in panic, slowly dragging yourself in his direction.
"She.." Chris's voice trailed off, a realization settling upon him.
It was no wonder Leon had been so headstrong about saving as many people as they could, why he was so determined to stop Umbrella and find a cure for the various viruses that continued to plague the world.
"She was infected. I don't know how, I don't know why."
Leon shook his head, grinding his teeth as he felt a single tear spill out, slipping down his skin.
"I had to.." his face contorts in pain, taking in a shuddering breath as he slumps over the counter.
Most of the time, Leon finds people who are traumatized forget large pieces of the event that traumatized them. They forget names, faces, remembering only the worst parts. He was not so lucky.
The trembling of his hand was only a part of the turmoil he was living through, trying to blink away the tears as they came, never ending. A quiet shiver resounded through the air each time the gun shook in his hands.
You were still growling, still reaching out for him, still somehow alive and dead all at the same time.
Beyond the horrifying picture of coming home to you in that state, lifeless in his arms, there was no words that could describe what he was feeling in this moment.
He had spent hours of your time together picturing your future together. He'd take you to the beach and built sandcastles with you, take you to the mountains and pack extra snacks for your hike, he'd take you skiing and hold your hands as you slowly slid down the white coated ground.
The days off where the two of you would wake up to each other's face, he'd caress your skin and kiss you softly, make you breakfast while you showered, show up with flowers from the farmer's market down the street because he knew how much you loved them.
One day you'd maybe get a cat or dog, and he'd try his best to become the favorite parent between the two of you, sneaking treats and playing with them every day, all to pout once they still bounded towards you when you came home.
Maybe one day the two of you would decide to start a family of your own, to create a piece of both of you into a human the both of you would love and cherish for the rest of your life, maybe you'd have a few if you were willing.
You'd grow old together, and he would take your hand and spin you in his arms like you were still twenty-five, never hesitating to carrying your things or open doors for you.
Except now you would never make it past twenty one.
The gravity of the situation came after his finger slipped the trigger, the sound of you skull cracking and your body hitting the floor.
He was sick immediately after, ruining the bed set you had meticulously picked out when Leon had gotten his placement in Raccoon City, stained with the contents of his stomach.
For hours he sat against the wall in the room, crying until his eyes ran dry, the gun resting beside him on the ground, discarded after leaving a stain of death upon his skin.
"It took me fourteen hours to clean up. Took her to this old tree in our hometown, where we had our first date."
A still image of the tree flickers briefly through his mind, a small patch of freshly planted flowers and scratches of your initials in the bark of the tree above them.
Chris catches sight of the chain around Leon's neck once more, watching as he tugged the tucked jewelry from under his shirt and revealed a small dainty ring, adorned with a single diamond. Leon had taken care of it over the years, hardly tarnished and nearly perfect.
"I couldn't even get rid of her things. I got a separate bedroom just for all of her stuff.." he shook his head, face twisting as he clutched the chain in his hand.
"How could I get rid of her memory after I.."
His eyes catch the single picture frame that resided in his apartment. Your eyes sparkle, catching the rays of sun, smiling brightly at Leon behind the camera. It was the last picture he had ever taken of you, a box in your hands as you loaded the back of his car.
"Leon, it wasn't your fault."
The words did not offer any solace. Leon had heard such words only once before, the first time he had ever opened up to anyone about what had happened to you, with none other than the only other woman who had made him feel such complicated things.
It took him weeks to get over his betrayal to you after that.
"Doesn't bring her back, just makes me think I should've tried harder to save her."
Chris fell silent, at a loss for words.
Leon had no doubt carried his fair share of pain over the years, haunted by the horrors of the field, a life Chris was well acquainted with himself. Nothing seemed to bring him such pain the way remembering you did.
He looked tired, blue eyes dull and hair unkept, looking much too pale, under eyes sunken in.
For days Leon had been remembering that night. At least once a year for the past thirty years, he was remembering that night. Not once did it ever feel easier.
"I think you should head out."
Chris watched as Leon stood from his seat, sliding the empty beer bottle from him and setting in on the counter beside the trash can.
He nodded, getting up from his seat and heading towards the door, trying to find something to console Leon, anything that he could say that would ease the pain for his friend, even if just for a moment.
"Leon, she wouldn't want you to let yourself die to repent for what happened."
Leon said nothing as Chris stepped out, shutting the door quietly behind him.
His gaze turned back towards the small picture frame of you, closing his eyes and letting out a breath.
"It's what I deserve, the only way I'll ever see you again," he muttered.
A quiet buzzing on his hip drew his attention, a tired sigh leaving his mouth as he pulled out his phone and looked at the message.
Sherry:
Got another body with the same marks. How fast can you get to Elbridge?
rookie! leon kennedy going on his first mission with you, the seasoned agent, meant to trach him how to survive in a world full of infected and make the best of his circumstances
rookie! leon kennedy who gets overzealous and listens to you scold him quietly, trying to stay quiet when the alcohol burns his injury since he doesn’t want to burden you
rookie! leon kennedy who is in awe of your full abilities the first time you have him watch your training regime, eager to grow as strong as you and prove himself worthy
rookie! leon kennedy who feels his confidence grow as his aiming gets straighter, body gets a big buffer, and his endurance builds to keep up with you
rookie! leon kennedy who feels such pride the first time he saves you, pulling you away from a slipping edge that would’ve meant at least a broken bone, trying not to smirk too much lest you notice and make him carry the cargo on his own
rookie! leon kennedy who feels his head spin when you call his name, who gets snippets of your true self here and there now that he isn’t completely reliant on you for survival
rookie! leon kennedy who drunkenly confesses his feelings and lands a sloppy kiss on your hand, on one knee like he was a knight, grinning as you giggle and wobble unceremoniously
rookie! leon kennedy who starts off small, brushing his hand against yours, grabbing things for you, speaking more softly and listening more intently
rookie! leon kennedy who feels the warmth of your body slowly fading in his hands, caked in blood as fire rages around him
rookie! leon kennedy who heaves, barely breathing when your hand meets his cheek, cold and trembling, your voice barely audible over the roar of the flames
rookie! leon kennedy who has to be physically removed from the burning building by chris, try as he might fight to stay with you
rookie! leon kennedy who watched your eyes close for the last time in slow motion as he struggles against chris’s grip, just as the rafters start to come down in his path
rookie! leon kennedy who waits until the flames have died to leave the site, silent and unrelenting as the ash stains his skin and layers in his hair, the smell of smoke sticking to his skin, to make sure you were really gone
widowed! leon kennedy who proposed to you the day you turned eighteen, freshly nineteen himself, but so sure and so in love that he wastes no time
widowed! leon kennedy who didn’t have much money, but helped you make your bouquet out of wildflowers and grasses while he kissed your cheeks and picked petals from your clothes
widowed! leon kennedy who felt his heart hammering in his chest when he heard you say “i do”, who scooped you up and kissed you in front the the court officiant since neither of you had any family to invite
widowed! leon kennedy who bought you a simple diamond ring, who swore he was gonna get a new job and buy you everything you could ever want and need
widowed! leon kennedy who let you leave the day before him while he went out with his academy friends to drink at the bar
widowed! leon kennedy who found the scene that forever haunts him, dark red blood stained on fresh carpet, carpet he’d never step foot on before then, who saw the blood soak into the floorboard
widowed! leon kennedy who weeps over you, who almost let’s your infected corpse kill him over having to hurt you, who gets sick when he heard the bullet pierce your cracked skull
widowed! leon kennedy who buried you in the town you two first met, under and old tree with your initials carved into them, something you two did after your first six months together
widowed! leon kennedy who wears your ring around his neck on a tight chain, who never forgets you, never forgets what he is living and fighting for
widowed! leon kennedy who sits besides a framed picture of you when he eats dinner, the few times he’s home to do so, who quietly murmurs to you about his day, staring longingly at your twenty-one self who would never age alongside him
medic! leon kennedy who realized the field life was too rough for him to sustain, who gets his medical license thanks to the dso’s unwillingness to lose him as an agent
medic! leon kennedy who has to return to the field once a quarter to remain a medic, otherwise his position would be stripped and his license would lose credibility
medic! leon kennedy who meets you for the first time while you’re on your death bed, bleeding through bandages and sweating through your clothes
medic! leon kennedy who rushes to administer life-saving care before you’re taken into surgery, whose hand you grasp in your unconscious state as the bed begins to roll across the stuffy hospital hallway
medic! leon kennedy who checks on your status every few hours after surgery, just doing his job and reporting your condition to your team
medic! leon kennedy who is writing down your vitals when you wake up, blinking at him blearily as your lips tremble and tears well in your eyes
medic! leon kennedy who freezes when you begin to cry, mumbling through sobs about the horrors of your mission, the loss of your partner in the field, finding a moment to sit on the side if your bed and allow you to cry into his shoulder
medic! leon kennedy who checks in on you daily despite the fact that you had been cleared for discharge and would soon be leaving, who finds himself offering to accompany you to your physical therapy and help you clean your wounds
medic! leon kennedy who slowly falls in love as you regain your spark, terrified of the possibility of your returning to the field once you’ve recovered and facing a similar fate
medic! leon kennedy who swallows his feelings when you show up to his house in the pouring rain past midnight, trembling with tears as you recite the nightmares that have been plaguing you
medic! leon kennedy who remains by your side, as a friend, when you return to the field, worrying over you again and again, anticipating your next communication
medic! leon kennedy who decides to save his heart, forever remaining silent about his feelings lest he ever see your mangled body come through the emergency doors once more
he pays attention to the littlest of details, has your smile permanently etched into his mind but never thinks he’ll ever have a chance with you
he spends his time learning about things you like and trying to make the perfect jokes so he can hear your laugh, it makes his heart sing in his chest and he feels like he’s floating
he buys your favorite snacks and leaves them in the fridge in the office and makes a point to ask you if you had forgotten it, as if he never took the time to buy them and plant them where he knew you would see them
thinks he might explode when you brush past him, the sensation of your body heat making him flush and stumble over his words
you’re always just so kind to him, but you’re kind to everyone, always being considerate of others
when the weekend comes, he’s genuinely disappointed, trying to find any excuse to run into you or text you
meanwhile, you’ve been dropping hints for months, losing hope each time because he simply can’t be this oblivious
you laugh at all of his corny jokes and touch his arms, you tease him and always search for him when he’s in the office, as rare as it was
