Every inhale and exhale he took was molten lava in his lungs. Shallow breaths he could muster, wheezing between clenched teeth. His surroundings merged with the laboratory’s shifting light caustics blurred in his vision as he fought to regain himself. To keep going. Wet coughs erupted from him, reminding him that in the moment he was alive, but not for much longer. Time was running out.
He was so close. So close to locating Elpis and shedding light to its purpose.
And much closer to death. It was poetic in a sense, Raccoon City was the death of the rookie cop he had been and now, this place would claim his life.
At least he had Grace’s word that she would end things in his stead.
Whatever it takes…
Chapter 1: Final Stand
Every inhale and exhale he took was molten lava in his lungs. Shallow breaths he could muster, wheezed between clenched teeth. His surroundings blurred in his vision as he fought to regain himself. To keep going. Wet coughs erupted from him, reminding him that in the moment he was alive and time was running out.
He was so close.
“Leon?” Static had accompanied Sherry’s voice in his earpiece. Leon mouthed her name with half-lidded eyes. He grimaced when she called his name again, ending with a piercing feedback shriek from the comm interference.
“Sherry…” Leon managed with a rasp, bloody phlegm lodged in his throat.
“Are you okay?”
Leon’s hand gripped his side in a feeble attempt of stemming the open wound, didn't come unscathed from that encounter with that commander, lifeblood oozing between his gloved fingers. Rapid, instantaneous memories flashed before his eyes - Sherry, his wife, his daughters - appeared so vividly, clear as day, tangible even, then came images of people, revenants that he had failed to save and would be forever out of his reach. Shadows gathered around for him.
A glacial cold spread throughout his chest, but he did not fear it. Rest his eyes for a moment, lose himself to the—
“Talk to me!”
Leon’s eyes weakly fluttered open, rasping. “I… need a vacation…” was what he said in response. As to whether that was to cope with the direness of the situation with jokes or to reassure Sherry this wasn’t the end for either of them, he cannot say and he surrendered to the dark.
annaoi replied to your post “I just noticed that Nyx Ulric has two different gloves and i want to...”
i noticed that too but im too lazy to changed his other glove LOL. And he has two different gloves coz the man's so extra.
The funny thing is that I thought he had only one kind of glove... the most difficult to draw of course xD if i noticed before he had the other one i would have avoided a lot of pain xD
Husband is so extra, yeah. But what did we expect from a saga where Tidus exists too? XD
I'd like a wonderbat fic please. But I can't think of any prompts except for Diana saying what it's like to be immortal and Bruce pondering about it. Dunno what scenario though, so I'll leave it to you to decide.
Summary:
Sometimes there were days when he couldn’t find peace with being a survivor. He wasn’t immune to wishing an end on his own terms when the darkness eclipsed the light and stars.
And yet, he selfishly thought of his wife. How desperately he needed her at that moment.
Chapter 2: There are no miracles
Every inhale and exhale he took was molten lava in his lungs. Shallow breaths he could muster, wheezing between clenched teeth. His surroundings merged with the laboratory’s shifting light caustics blurred in his vision as he fought to regain himself. To keep going. Wet coughs erupted from him, reminding him that in the moment he was alive, but not for much longer. Time was running out.
He was so close. So close to locating Elpis and shedding light to its purpose.
And much closer to death. It was poetic in a sense, Raccoon City was the death of the rookie cop he had been and now, this place would claim his life.
At least he had Grace’s word that she would end things in his stead.
Whatever it takes…
“Leon?” Static had accompanied Sherry’s voice in his earpiece. Leon mouthed her name with half-lidded eyes. He grimaced when she called his name again, ending with a piercing feedback shriek from the comm interference.
“Sherry…” Leon managed with a rasp, bloody phlegm lodged in his throat. Another cough brought him to his knees.
“Are you okay?”
Leon’s hand gripped his side in a feeble attempt of stemming the open wound. He didn't come unscathed from that encounter with that commander, lifeblood oozing between his gloved fingers. It didn’t help when that man in the white suit nearly busted his windpipe and knocked his ass down flat. Rapid, instantaneous memories flashed before his eyes appeared so vividly, clear as day, tangible even, then came images of people, revenants that he had failed to save and would be forever out of his reach. Shadows gathered around for him, claws extended for him.
Despite the burning sensation surging through him, a glacial cold spread much faster throughout his chest, but he did not fear it. Rest his eyes for a moment, lose himself to the—
Idiot, he chastised himself, a small comfort to bear in mind that there was nobody around to call him that. What right did he have to be calling out to her? Just four days ago, he nearly followed through with ending his life, shoving away the potential consequences of his actions, thinking he could fool the girls as he easily dismissed his wife’s growing concerns of his inescapable despair with empty reassurances.
“I… I thought you weren’t coming back. I thought I lost you.” She had said when he couldn’t pull the trigger. He had thought she would be with the girls at her parents’ residence for the time being while he went out for ‘air’. A disparaging laugh escaped her before she wept in her hands. “Waiting is all I could do. Oh god, Leon, I’m so sorry! I can’t do anything!”
On their wedding anniversary no less.
He felt unworthy of her love, unworthy of comforting her when he caused her pain, unworthy of the life he had built with her and was so close to crushing it in an instant. A traitor of his wedding vows to protect her happiness. A fool’s wishful thinking to be promising fairy tales and happily ever afters when they weren’t delusional to the dangers that came with exchanging rings.
For every mission accomplished, the violence never ended for him. He would remember things that he had done, regretted, and used those as driving forces to adapt and rectify. He endured it all to be the decorated agent the world needed. His body kept the score until he drew the last breath.
Sometimes there were days when he couldn’t find peace with being a survivor. He wasn’t immune to wishing an end on his own terms when the darkness eclipsed the light and stars.
And yet, he selfishly thought of his wife. How desperately he needed her at that moment.
“Connect me… to Dani,” he persisted, hoping Sherry could still hear him and with strained effort, pushed himself back on his feet.
Leon had sworn to himself not to call home until he completed the mission. But being on death’s door had him rescind that notion.
He couldn’t recall the last time Sherry had patched Daniela through a live radio conversation.
“Leon, I’m here.”
Music to my ears.
“Hello there, beautiful. Been wanting to talk to you. It didn’t sit right with me on how we left things.”
All the things that went unsaid. I should’ve said them. Lied to you instead. I never told you–
“Tell me you’re safe,” Daniela pleaded to him in a tremulous voice. “Tell me you’re on your way back.”
As to answer Daniela and apprise Leon before making promises he cannot keep, a wet, hacking sound left him. “I’m running out of time.” He spat and wiped at his mouth. “This is the end of the line.”
“What? But you promised. You said you would find a cure. Tooth and nail.”
The crack in her voice caused his heart to break in a million pieces.
“Can’t cheat death forever,” he lamented, his eyes crushing shut.
In his line of work, dying in the line of duty came with the territory. He had not deluded himself that he may experience a peaceful end. Reiterations of shared assets, contingency plans, and concealed firearms were his way of ensuring his family was well off after he was gone. The one source of contention with his spouse who could recite them flawlessly and provide answers before he could finish the questions while the truth of the matter buried deep inside him was evident: he was afraid.
He wasn’t ready to let go.
“There has to be a way,” she bargained hoarsely, a noticeable hitch in her voice. “You always find a way.”
He kept a steadfast gaze to the top of the stairs even when his body was failing him.
“No matter what happens here, you know I love you,” he wheezed, every breath he took was shorter than the last, muscles protesting in agony as he climbed. “I always will. I love you, Daniela.”
Another fit of coughing and accompanying vertigo, the worst episode he’d experienced since taking ill, had him reach out for purchase to stabilize himself. The ground seemed to rise up to meet him, the sudden impact stealing the breath from his chest.
“Leon!” Daniela cried out. “Are you okay?”
"Yeah, gravity still works. It works just fine." He replied, chuckling dryly at his little morbid joke. He endured the blurry halos spotting his vision and soon realized that he couldn’t muster the strength to get back up. “A little too well,” he said more to himself than her.
“Fight it, Leon!” The love of his life and mother of his children wailed, a jagged sound that didn’t sound human in the cusp of a losing battle. “Sherry, send help! Please! We can’t lose him! Get up!”
“Get up!”
“Get up, Daddy!”
“It’s time to get upppppp!”
“Five more minutes...” Leon was in bed, head heavy and a dull pounding sensation behind his eyelids. He blinked against the harsh sunlight and three cheerful girls shifted into focus, staring down at him with triumphant, mischievous expressions. “Uh-oh, I have a bad feeling about this.”
The vague concept of fatherhood he used to muse about became a reality when he and Daniela welcomed three daughters into their lives. Never a dull moment in the Kennedy household. But he wouldn’t have it any other way.
Duty often spirited him away that it pained him to return and see them growing up so fast without their father to witness all the milestones. Daniela would attempt to circumvent this through photography and home videos, but it wasn’t the same.
His daughters may outgrow his lap, but they would never outgrow his heart. No matter how many times he saw it unfold, without fail, the welcome home reception always sent his heart over the moon. He absolutely doted on them without fail or reservation.
And it completely gutted him like a serrated blade when he couldn’t stay, he nearly surrendered to puppy eyes and strategic grappling maneuvers to hinder his movements. Forget about viruses taking him out, they’re his kryptonite.
Before each of the girls were born, he recorded brief voice messages and wrote letters dedicated to them, a ritual that he continued to this day and a rare secret he had kept to himself for now. Just in case there ever came a day he didn’t return.
Stefani, the eldest Kennedy daughter who taught his first lesson in unconditional love, her azure eyes glinted with mock disapproval as she took the initiative. “Dad, you can’t stay in bed all day. You gotta keep moving.”
Leon’s eyes slid open.
Before Leon could ask why or where to or appeal that sleep was more inviting, Roxanna, the rambunctious middle child who taught him how to embrace chaotic joy, a chip off her old man’s block in more ways than one, gripped his left arm and pulled. “Come onnnnn, let’s go, let’s go!”
Leon planted his left hand on the floor.
Zoey, the precocious youngest daughter, who resembled Daniela the most out of the three, who taught him the perspective of slowing down and cherishing even the smallest of moments, held fast to his right arm. “It’s okay that you’re tired, Daddy. We won’t let go.”
His right hand found his knee as he struggled to catch his second wind.
“I can’t… disappoint my girls…” Watching himself reflected on the surface, he pushed himself back on his feet and continued the lonely trek.
“I know you can still hear me,” Daniela said, her voice raw and wilted as though she had been talking for God knows how long, barely above a whisper beneath the static. “You’re not dying there. You don’t want that. Please don’t want that. The hardest days didn’t break you. They shaped you. Hurry home, I love you.”
“Dani? Sherry? Do you read me?” Leon croaked as he touched his earpiece and found the signal was lost. “Dammit.” He would have to press onward alone.
Just through this door, he noted. Time to end this.
Before his hand hovered over the panel, he convulsed, the coughing ravaged at his throat and failing lungs, spraying the wall and the floor with blood and ended in a sickening gurgle. Dry heaving and lips tinged with a terrifying blue, his legs gave out under him and he surrendered to the deep, cold void.
“Please wake up. Come on. Wake up, wake up. Hey!”
A feminine voice pierced through the silence, sounding distant. The rapidness of words and urgency behind them made it hard to focus before they grew progressively clearer and disorienting. Warm hands shook at him. When he opened his eyes, the edges of his vision pinched outward, and an ambiguous silhouette was kneeled before him.
“…Hey.” A sheepish exhale and nervous giggle.
Dani? He mouthed his wife’s name before giving a little shake of his head and then deeply regretting the effort as it further discombobulated him. When did you get here? He wanted nothing more than to cradle her face, having lost most of the nerves in his hands because of the virus, to feel her, and breathe in her captivating fragrance.
Leon couldn’t recall how long he was out for. Couldn’t have been longer than a few minutes to still be breathing at stage three.
“Hey you,” he said, affectionately as he coughed. “I was just resting my eyes.”
Grace Ashcroft’s face came into focus. “You’re okay.”
Leon, while relieved that it was Grace who found him, shrugged off his disappointment that he had been mistaken. He reached for his back pocket where he kept his wedding band, a final request on the tip of his tongue.
Grace took his arm and pulled him to his feet. “Let me help you.”
When their eyes met, he hesitated and for a heartbeat, Leon considered entrusting the ring to Grace and instructing her to return it to his beloved should he not survive. Instead, the sentiment turned to cinders on his tongue and a newfound resolve surged through him.
