You couldn't bring yourself to shoot Leon. Not when he had been your partner for so long. Not when you had survived so many horrors together.
You knew, you knew, thus wasn't really Leon anymore. Now he was just another infected, another of those zombies, but you still couldn't bare to do it.
Not even now that he had you backed into a corner. Not even now that it was him or you. You just couldn't.
This was the end, you thought. You'd be ripped apart by your partner, your friend, your Leon. And the only thing you could do was close your eyes tightly and brace yourself for the worst.
So imaging your surprise when you felt his arms wrap around you and his face nuzzle in your neck as he left out what you could only assume were happy zombie noises...
Rethinking my Everyone is Infected au designs just a little. I got the sudden vision of Leon having mandibles that fold up into a little facemask and couldn’t help but give Ashley an upgrade too.
⟢ your best friend/partner (who you also have feelings for) starts avoiding you after a mission with no explanation why. naturally, you’re determined to find out his reasoning, but it’s nothing like what you’d ever expect.
── .✦ story notes
⟢ post-re4r, shortly afterward.
── .✦ word count
⟢ 3.6k!
── .✦ tags
⟢ infected!leon, vampire!leon, second-person, no use of y/n, fem!reader, title is an enhypen song, angst, a few pop culture references, leon and hunnigan may be ooc, also prob cringe erm, not beta read we die like marvin, i lost sleep over this, no strong smut but there’s making out, fluff kinda, i forgot how to write, did not preplan any of this just went with it, mentions of re4r events, mentions of blood (i mean yea but still lol), biting bc.. there’s.. vampires…. leon’s probably edward cullen coded and i need everyone to ignore it bc idk how to write vampires yet this is my first attempt ok, i never write romance scenes so bear with me, pacing is prob weird, admittedly self-indulgent, if you know me personally pls scroll, i think that’s it…
── .✦ a/n
⟢ happy (late…) halloween to those who celebrate! i did my best to get this done in time so it’s admittedly rushed and probably not very great, but i love writing content for my fellow leon lovers <3 commentary, ideas and reqs are always welcome! love you guys ^_^
Leon had been your partner for years. You had both come out of Raccoon City that night with bruises and wounds of all sorts, but also a brewing friendship. Or maybe even something more.
You trusted each other with everything you had.
So when he started being more aloof and secretive, you immediately sensed something was wrong.
He won’t linger around long enough for you to ever be able to prove it, though. So waiting it out and trying to catch him at the right time seemed like the move for now, but he always avoided you if he had the chance. Missions were different, of course, as you always had to stick together, but if you were back home, then he was nowhere to be found. Admittedly, it was hard. You two were extremely close, so why the cold shoulder?
The two of you were being sent to New York. A quick special-op mission at a gorgeous gala that seemed rather simple compared to the usual guts and gore that you were used to.
Hunnigan gave you the rundown, as well as a wide range of formal gowns to choose from. She knew what styles you liked as well as your favorite colors (and shades, how sweet) so it was smooth sailing. At least something is.
You looked through the variety of fabrics laid before you, trying to make the right decision. Either way, they were all at your disposal (for other missions of course), but all of them were new and you wanted to choose not just a gown, but the right gown.
After a while, you heard Hunnigan call your name, guiding you out of whatever spaced out state you were in. “Hello? You’ve been staring at the same dress for quite some time now… you okay?”
You manage a small smile, although it’s fleeting. “Mhm.”
“Mhm?” she questions, mimicking the exact way the simplified response fell from your lips.
“Yeah, I’m fine. No worries.”
“It’s Leon, isn’t it?” Silence. “Yeah, it is.”
“No it’s not!” you’d argue.
“Your defensiveness tells me otherwise. C’mon, spill. But while you look through the dresses.”
Your hands ghost over them, deciding on one that seemed to flatter you in many ways. The color went well with your skin tone, the neckline was beautiful and the length was just right. That one would certainly be next in line for a try-on.
“He’s been avoiding me, which is so unlike him, and he barely even talks to me anymore. Not even a single dad joke,” you stated, a mixture of concern and slight fury in your tone.
“That’s… weird,” Hunnigan replied rather simply. You just nodded before continuing from where you left off.
“He only talks to me if he absolutely has to, like on missions. I just don’t understand him anymore.”
The other woman shrugged as you went into the bathroom to try on the dress you had picked out. But she still listened outside of the door, regardless of if she was truly interested in lovers quarrels or not (even though you guys weren’t technically together). Your voice was muffled, but she could tell you were deeply hurt by him.
“Maybe he’s just got something going on and doesn’t want you caught up in it. It’s not… unlikely,” she tried to reason, watching you leave the bathroom in the dress you liked. “That could get his attention, though. It looks great on you.”
“Thanks, Ingrid. It’s really pretty…” you trailed off, admiring every detail of the dress. “It’s the one.”
The next few hours went by quickly as you packed everything you needed for the overnight trip to New York. Not much time to sightsee, just a one-and-done mission and a night at a hotel, but maybe it was for the better. You could get back home to… your plants, and… yeah. The plants for sure.
You and Leon boarded the plane, overnight bags in hand. It was an hour and a half tops, but “enough time for talk” in the words of Hunnigan the Wise. But how would you even go about it? “Hey, what’s going on? You’ve been avoiding me recently and it’s not like you,” or “hey so what the f**k is your problem?”
Confrontation sucks.
Maybe it’s not what you need before the mission.
So you take your headphones out of your purse, find a playlist and pretend he doesn’t exist and this isn’t happening for the entirety of the car ride, which doesn’t go unnoticed. But he couldn’t say anything about you not saying anything. A rock and a hard place indeed.
You arrive at the hotel, safe and sound, and make your way to room 407, where you’d find comfort and safety after the gala.
Hunnigan explained that tonight, a rich CEO was throwing a whole “charity” event, which was really a coverup for a money laundering operation, and it was you and Leon’s job to find out more info without getting caught. After you got what you needed, you could take in the capitalist pig as well as take in whoever else was knowingly involved.
Easy, right?
For you and Leon, absolutely.
You got ready for the event, making yourself look as dazzling and rich as humanly possible. Tonight, you were not yourself. You were Elizabeth Richmond, model and sole heir of your father Shaun’s rising tech company. You had a part to play, and that signature line from RuPaul’s Drag Race endlessly repeated in your mind.
As for Leon, he was now Kevin Ryman, your fiancé and co-founder of a cybersecurity company, which saw a dip in profits for a while but recently got back on its feet. Simple enough stories to tell over a glass of their finest beverages, but still not enough to fully dive into in case if someone tries looking for you after. Not too much or too little info, yet just enough to give your persona some detail and allow you both to charm your way through the night and get everything you need in order to shut this whole ordeal down. Shouldn’t be too bad, right? …Right?
You step outside your hotel room, hair and makeup done just right and a gun strapped to your thigh but hidden under your dress. Leon’s waiting across from you, clad in a classic navy suit, leaning against the door to his room. His eyes linger for a moment, wandering, before eventually shifting elsewhere as he begins to leave the hotel, motioning for you to follow. “Silent treatment still?” you thought. A string of curses may have also followed in your thoughts, but who’s to say for sure?
The two of you get in your limo, driven by one of the agents, and make your way to the CEO’s (whom you admittedly forgot the name of) attempt at a Met Gala. You go through the file you were given as a reminder, and ohhh, that’s right. His name was Dave Seville. Easy enough.
“Traffic jam. We’re stuck here for now, but we’ll still make it in time,” the agent (and driver for the night) states, shutting the little window afterwards so you and Leon have privacy.
This is your chance.
“Did I do something?” you question, practically out of nowhere.
Leon looks up from the file in hand, temporarily pausing his review of it. “What makes you say that?”
“Many things, actually, but what’s going on? You’ve barely spoken to me over the last few weeks and it’s honestly scaring me. It’s not like you.”
He can tell that it’s been bothering you for a while, and not just based off of your words, but how passionate you were about it. He had hurt you, and there was no turning back from it. Some of that bond had started to wither, even after all these years. But things die if they’re not cared for properly.
The blond man across from you thought about his words very carefully before speaking up. “I’m just… going through some things right now. I don’t need you or anyone else getting involved in it. That’s all.”
You wanted to reach for his hands, rough from years of field experience but soft in the way they could hold you. You figured if you could hold him, you could comfort him and take away some of that anxiety. But maybe that’s not what he needed right now. Maybe he needed space and everything was just a misunderstanding.
“I understand that, but I’m here for you, Leon. You don’t have to handle it all on your own.”
If only you knew.
He managed to give you a ghost of a smile, and a small nod of acknowledgment, but quickly returned to reviewing the mission details. “I’m Kevin, by the way.”
“Oh screw you.”
“You wish.”
Yeah, you definitely did.
Eventually, you arrive at the gala, which takes place at the Grand Royale Hotel. It was an older building, yet renovated to look more “modern” and blend in with the times. Regardless, whatever architects in charge of the project however many years ago were clearly geniuses.
Staring at the hotel from your window, you don’t realize that Leon has already gotten out of his seat and made his way to your door, opening it for you and offering you his hand. You remember your role and take his hand, following him out of the vehicle and into the hotel.
Chandeliers hang on every ceiling and antiques litter the building, giving it more character. It seems as if they hadn’t completely changed the whole aesthetic just yet. The woman at the front finds your names on the list of guests, and Leon guides you into a crowd of people. Quieted jazz, various voices and laughter that reeks of country clubs begin to swirl around the room, filling the atmosphere. Your eyes shift around, looking for the faces seen in the mission files, carefully picking through everyone to find your targets.
One of them is spotted.
You guide Leon to the older man, known as Richard Armani, a wealthy entrepreneur who was definitely a sketchy guy. Maybe even a rejected Shark Tank member.
“Mr. Armani, it’s a pleasure meeting you here,” you greet, feigning admiration for the man. “I must say, I’m a fan of your work.”
He pauses talking to his group. “Oh, thank you, Mrs…”
“Miss Richmond. Kevin and I aren’t married just yet,” you reply, giving Leon a quick glance and a sweet smile. Leon greets Armani, giving him a firm handshake before returning to face you.
“I’ll go get us some drinks, love.”
“Thank you dear,” you say in response, lightly pecking Leon’s cheek to further sell the story.
Or so you told yourself.
Leon slips off and you continue to talk to Armani, looking for any and all info to incriminate him and dig deeper into Seville’s plans. Anything helps, but you ultimately need something solid, or else Hunnigan would have your head (as close as you two are, she’ll always be expecting the most).
The blond observes you from the bar, admiring the way you looked tonight. You were stunning, and there was a silent hope in the back of his mind that maybe you had romantic feelings for him too. But he knows that especially now, he’ll never be the one to ask. It’s too risky. Too much of a burden on you. So he’ll just watch from afar, keeping you close to his heart but always at an arms distance.
Time passes and the endless chatter continues. It’s rather exhausting in its own way, and quite boring as well. At some point in time, Leon returned with the drinks, as well as a few tips on Seville from people who are struggling to be on good terms with him. It only serves as a reminder to be careful who you let into your inner circle.
You and Leon try to find out what you can while Hunnigan does hardcore deep dives on Seville, working together as quickly and proficiently as humanly possible. After quiet data exchanges, Hunnigan rules that you have enough of what you need to incriminate Dave and other government agents drag him out mid-speech.
Might as well grab a quick drink from the bar before you go!
Eventually, you and Leon make it back to the hotel and you couldn’t be more grateful. You’re just about to rush into your room and change into much more comfortable clothes before you suddenly remember what’s been silently plaguing you the entire time. “Can we talk about it now?”
“…You don’t let up, do you?”
“Nope.”
“I don’t want to be harsh with you, but it’s better that you don’t know.” He reaches for the doorknob, but you push further anyway.
“What happened in Spain?”
“Does it really matter?” It’s not necessarily defensive, more so questioning.
“Yes.”
“God, you’re stubborn.” He’s known it from the start, yet still keeps you around anyway.
“So I’ve been told.”
You couldn’t make it to that mission. They had already sent you to guide a rookie agent on a separate mission in Hong Kong a few hours prior to take down triad boss Kenny Wu. Admittedly, you felt guilty that you couldn’t assist Leon, but you also couldn’t just circle back to help him out. It was his first solo mission in quite some time, and part of him wished that you were there. The other part was grateful you weren’t.
“Just come in and we can talk.” You’re hoping he takes you up on the offer.
He thinks on it, sighs softly and nods.
The blond who sat across from you on your bed didn’t know how to bring such a thing up. That mission was one of the worst he’s had to deal with so far, and he was lucky he made it out somewhat intact.
Somewhat.
Eventually, he cut to the chase.
“It’s not gone,” he says simply, which it comes off rather ambiguous. “It’s still in my veins, I can’t stop it. Believe me, I’ve tried.”
You stared at him, “Leon… what did you find there?”
“It found me. The Plaga.”
Your heart drops. What do you even say to somebody in his position? Nothing. You can’t do anything to console them because you never know when/if they’ll turn into… whatever.
“What are you talking about?”
He wants to hold your hands to ground himself, and for a glimpse of a moment, he reaches out, but he sees thin black veins cover his hands and he retracts. He wishes you knew about everything already, but at the same time, he wishes he could guard you from it all. But he can’t. You’re too stubborn. Too kind. You’ll worry no matter what he does or says.
“The people there… Los Illuminados… they had their own virus. The Plaga. It controlled the villagers there, and they infected me and Ashley,” he began to explain. “But I’m not the same as them. Ashley said she cured me but—”
“You’re still infected.”
He almost nodded, looking anywhere but towards you. “By the Plaga, no. By something else it left behind. No one else there seemed to have such a strange reaction to it. Something changed in me. It started with my veins, then my eyes, then… blood-thirst.”
Vampire.
You keep yourself from making some awful Twilight joke to break the awkward feeling that filled the room. This was even worse. There was no cure for this and no one who could help him anymore. You didn’t know what all happened there, but he was alive in a sense. How do you comfort him?
“Please, say something… anything,” he pleads, finally looking into your eyes. Only then do you realize that they’re a dark crimson, as if he was starved.
“Your secret’s safe with me,” you say softly with a smile. You can tell by his expression that he’s grateful, and admittedly, he hoped that would be the outcome. He says a quiet “thank you” and begins to excuse himself off, up until you stop him.
“Where are you going?”
The words are caught in his throat. He doesn’t want to say it, because it makes him feel like a monster.
“….I think you already know.” He pauses. “I don’t want to be a monster. I wanted to help people, not hurt them.”
“Is that why you stayed away from me? Because you thought I’d think of you as a monster?”
His darkened irises flicker to you for a mere moment, and then back to the door. He wants to leave. He wants to find a way out. Even so, he’d do anything for you. “That’s not the only reason,” Leon answers almost shamefully. “It’s hard to resist, and I can’t hurt you.”
He hates this. There’s nothing he can do to stop any of it. No one else knows. They can never know, because if they did, he’d be experimented on and killed when they were through with him. That’s how the government — and everything else, really — worked.
So he had to tell you.
“Because I love you,” he says quietly, but he knows you heard it. He finally looks at you, carefully stepping toward you as if he feared you run.
But you didn’t.
“And I can’t let myself hurt someone I love.”
His voice breaks, and you can tell that it’s eating him alive. He never wanted this. He wanted a future with you, if you wanted it too of course, but everything felt like it was ruined now. You rise from the hotel bed, meeting him halfway. The blond looks like he wants to cry, but he doesn’t. He just watches you approach, his heart beating rapidly, as if it were going to explode. He was praying to whoever was listening that you felt the same. Please feel the same.
Your eyes linger on his lips, as if asking for permission. He gave you a small nod, confirming. You cradle his face and the two of you close the distance, the kiss cautious and slow, but sweet all the same. You pull apart for a moment before going back in, deeper this time. More passionate, like it was saying all of the words you’d held back the last six years. His fangs graze your lips, yet not enough to hurt. Your hands wander in his hair, pulling him closer to you. His hands wander around, yet still remain respectful.
“I love you too,” you whisper, blush dusting your cheeks.
The biggest smile graces his face and he’s practically glowing (not in a “skin of a killer” way). You’ll never know how happy you truly make him.
His crimson irises and black veins serve as a reminder of what he is and what he has to do to survive, but you love him anyway. Something he can’t control isn’t going to change that.
“Don’t go,” you plead softly, fingers gently caressing his face. His hands hold your wrists in a comforting manner, wishing he could stay, but it kills him.
“I can’t stay. Wildlife is far from here, I can’t wait any—”
“Then use me.”
“No… no, not an option,” he says sternly.
You plead, “Leon, please. You won’t make it and I’m not risking losing you.”
Leon winced at the thought of even doing it, but he knows you’re right. He guides you to the bed and sits beside you, treating you as if you’re made of glass. “I’ll be fast,” he promises, his voice almost a whisper. You give him a small nod, a silent “go-ahead.” He moves your hair from your neck and leans in, fangs piercing your soft skin. It hurts for a mere moment, before easing and being replaced with something along the lines of bliss.
Leon takes enough to be satiated for a while but not enough to hurt you any more than he already has. He understands why it’s been so hard to be around you; it’s because the blood of someone you love is much sweeter and intoxicating than any known drug. If he didn’t know better, he’d lose himself in the feeling.
He seals the bite with a kiss, feeling remorse yet gratefulness all at the same time. His eyes slowly return to normal, the black ink in his veins retract and suddenly, he’s just normal Leon again. You smile at him, and he forces himself to smile through the guilt. “I’m fine,” you promise. He doesn’t believe you, but he’ll pretend that he does.
He doesn’t leave your room for a while. Instead, he watches some mindless comedy while you go through your nightly routine and talks to you until you fall asleep. Only after you’ve dozed off does he quietly leave, returning to his own room. Not in a “one night stand” manner, but a “I’m not Edward Cullen, I won’t watch you sleep and I won’t cross boundaries” sort of way.
Leon’s had a rough time sleeping well since the Raccoon City Incident, but that night, he’s slept the best he ever has. And when he wakes, he’ll know that it was all because of you.
You both knew it was going to be rough. There was no way it was going to be easy having a relationship as agents, as well as him being a vampire with no cure for the extended strand of Las Plagas created just yet, but you’d make it work. “That’s what people who love each other do,” you’d tell him. What else is in store for you? Who knows. He was just glad you were there with him from the beginning, and promised to stay until the end.
WC/Tags: 1.2k / infection, character death, last words, love confession
A/N: title from ‘When it’s raining’ by Borderline. Kind of lost steam for this at the end so it someone wants to try a rewrite I wouldn’t deny! @angsty-april
He’s dying.
He knows it, and you know it.
You’re holding his hand, fighting to keep the tears at bay, his skin clamy against yours; you raise it to your lips anyways, pressing a kiss to his hand.
The infection is spreading rapidly, you can tell. The black strips under his veins bulge and pulse, and he’s sweating, shifting in pain with shit eyes.
“Go,” he whispers, the bed creaking under him. “No point in you…seein’ this.”
You shake your head, pressing your lips together. “I’m staying right here.”
His fingers twitch weakly in your grip as he lets out a hoarse chuckle, though there's no real humor behind it. “Stubborn as hell... Always were.”
A sharp intake of breath as another wave of pain hits him, jaw clenching hard enough to make the muscle jump. But even now his gaze locks onto yours with that same stupid, stubborn intensity. “...Fine. But if I start turnin’ into one of those things, you better put me down before I embarrass myself.”
The corner of his mouth quirks up slightly, just for you.
“It’s my end of days, gorgeous,” his voice is cracked as his eyes find yours. “Don’t start lying to me now.”
“Leon,” you whisper, blinking hard because he can’t die. Not now. Not like this. “Please.”
His thumb brushes weakly over your knuckles—gentle, like he’s trying to memorize the shape of them. “Hey... I've cheated death more times than I can count. Maybe it was always gonna catch up.”
A ragged breath, then his voice drops lower—barely there, but still steady. “But listen... You don't beg for me. Not ever.” His grip tightens slightly, as if he could will strength into you through touch alone. “You walk outta here when it's done. Alive. That's the deal.”
The faintest smirk tugs at his lips again, even as his eyes start to lose focus, always having to have the last word.
“You can’t, Leon you can’t just- not when I-” you stop, because you hadn’t said the words yet. You hadn’t been brave enough, and even now as death stared at you through his eyes the words caught on your tongue.
“I know,” he murmurs, his eyes closing. “S’okay baby. You don’t have to say a thing.”
“I want to,” you whisper. “I really do.”
He lets out a bitter laugh turned ragged by another sudden wave of pain, eyes squeezed shut as he leans his head back against the pillow for a moment. It feels like eternity while you wait for the wave to pass. When he finally looks at you again, there's a softness there—pain, yes, but something like tenderness, too.
His hand lifts to brush a strand of hair away from your face, the calloused pad his thumb tracing along your cheekbone.
“Hey... I can be selfish, right...?”
“Be selfish with me,” you whisper, clasping his hand and keeping it to your face. You scoot closer to the bed with your chair, your knees pressing to the edge of the mattress. “Fight for me. Don’t die, for me. Fuck umbrella, and Racoon city, and everyone that made this world your problem. Be selfish, and love me.”
“I already do.”
His response is quick, a knee jerk reply, and you still, your eyes widening and his hand is warm on your cheek as it keeps a grasp on your face. His expression softens further, his gaze never leaving yours, steady and intense, that familiar stubbornness in it, even now. It makes your chest ache, because he never changed and you don't want him to. He'll always be Leon.
He's quiet for a moment, just studying your face, his thumb stroking gently over your skin with what must be the last of his strength.
Then in a hoarse whisper, he's making a demand. “Come closer.”
You lean forward, pressing your elbows to the mattress so you can lean on your palms, your face closer to his. The tears prick at your eyes before you inhale, finding the scent that is so clearly him under the gun powder and antiseptic.
His breath hitches, just once, as your face hovers just above his, his grip tightening ever so slightly in your hair before he exhales.
“Tell you what,” he murmurs, rough with pain but still so warm. “If I make it through this... you better be ready to say those words back to me.” His smirk is weak now, but it's there, barely. Teasing. Like always.
Before you can answer, he tugs your face down the last inch and kisses you like he's got nothing left to lose.
Which, well... he might not, but hell if that stops him from making sure you do.
You close your eyes, committing the feel of his lips on yours to memory. They’re chapped but smooth, cool against your warm ones. Even with the pain and the fever, he still kisses you so gently, almost reverently. As if you're something fragile or delicate, instead of a trained agent who can put a bullet in a zombie's head at a hundred feet, but then, he's always treated you as if you were something rare. Something he never deserved.
He breaks the kiss but only just, his forehead presses against yours, a shaky exhale leaving him as he breathes in the scent of you, one that reminds him always of home.
You’re crying now, salty tears slipping down your cheeks and wetting his skin. He makes a soft sound, shaking his head. “Don’t cry for me.”
“Can’t help it.” You pull back, taking in his face, the lines of black that crawl up his neck and your eyes crinkle as you blink rapidly. “I love you. Oh god, Leon I love you.” Your voice cracks and you break, your head falling to his chest as you sob. “Please. Please don’t do this.”
His arm comes around you, weak but insistent, pulling you as close as he can manage, his hand cradling the back of your head like he's trying to shield you from all of this.
“Damn it,” he rasps, pressing a rough kiss into your hair. “Not how I wanted to hear that for the first time.”
You can feel his heartbeat under your cheek, too fast, too uneven, but still there. Still fighting, because Leon Kennedy doesn’t know how to do anything else.
“We can fight this,” you whisper into his chest. “I know we can. The doctors said-”
“Doctors don’t know everything,” he says softly and you sit up, wiping at your eyes. “They’re guessing, at best.”
“They could be right,” you insist. “And I’m not giving up. Not on you, never on you.”
His gaze sharpens, a flicker of that old fire in his exhausted eyes, and he exhales through his nose like you're being particularly difficult.
“Stubborn as hell,” he mutters, but fondness laces his tone.
With a slow inhale, he nods once, sharp and decisive. “Fine. We try, but if this shit goes south…” His thumb brushes under your eye again, wiping away another stray tear before it can fall. “You still walk out alive. You still live.”
You chew at your lip but nod nonetheless.
Leon Kennedy never was good at surrender; not even now.
I accidentally posted to the main blog but here is Plagas! Leon Kennedy eyeballs teehee. There's something about red and yellow that just go together! I did a variation with lighting and a semi-subtle eye glow. I just love this buggy man!
Me: *remembering a crossover ask of Infected!Leon being dropped in KN8 and stuck in Soshiro's care."
My brain: What if Soshiro got critically injured during a mission thus Leon infects him so the Vice Captain can survive?
Me: No better way to make things for the 3rd Division more chaotic and awkward. Having to watch over one Kaiju Himbo alongside two nutty Infected on base.
What isn't mentioned: Leon pretty much sniff out Kafka's secret on the second day. (No.10's attack will happen in 3 months unlike in canon.) The two have a personal chat and the agent assesses the man been put in a similarities situation like he was. (Forcefully changed into something he wasn't.)
Sadly Leon still had to notify Mina and Soshiro but the 3rd Division doesn't say anything to the Higher Ups. They plan to build a case to protect Kafka as shit will hit the fan with this information. Plus it'll keep Leon from doing something stupid to protect his fellow 'monster'.
I am planning a timelime of sorts for this. There would be two versions featuring different Infected! Leon. A Las Plagas and a modified "G" Virus. (I'll go into on the latter in a different page but the former follows more of my portrayal than everyone else. (Seriously need to begin working on his 'Verdugo' design.)
Plagas will have Leon in Soshiro's care while G ends up with Kafka. Both shall have No.9 being an absolutely fucking menace though. That and kaiju blood having a unique effect on the respective Leon's infection. (Dude would eat kaiju meat.)
One unrelated thought I saved for last. RE2 or RE4 but Leon has Kafka's powers. Man deserves to be a fucking menace so why not have an "Unidentified B.O.W" in RE's opinion grant him insane monstrous abilities?
