hey this is an idea i have or request if ur still taking them- i haven’t seen to much angst to fluff with reader and leon so i was wondering maybe they get into a big fight and then make up after? i need a good angst to fluff read 💔
I SWEAR I'M TRYING ✹ Leon Kennedy
SUMMARY: Your daughter arriving home after not giving signs of life is the last straw for you and Leon, your husband, to have an argument you both didn't want to have, specially since your relationship hasn't been the best in the past months
‼️ Angst to fluff
✹ PAIRINGS: RE9 Leon Kennedy x Wife!Reader
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✹ MyRESIDENT EVIL MASTERLIST
💬 Currently thinking ideas of birthday fics since my birthday is this month...
Leon’s standing by the kitchen counter. The sleeves of his shirt are rolled up, revealing the veins on his forearms. If you were under completely different circumstances, that sight would’ve driven you crazy, but now…
Your eyes drift to the clock on the oven. 11.47 p.m. Your daughter still isn’t home and, even worse: she hasn’t given signs of life to either of you.
You’re sitting at the kitchen table, pretending to scroll through your phone while you can’t stop rereading the last text she’d sent you, somehow trying to find a hidden meaning on it. At the same time, you steal glances at Leon: his hands are gripping the edge of the counter so tightly his knuckles have gone white
You know he’s absolutely terrified. Also, you know, without a doubt, that he’s taking all this thing way worse than you are.
Where are you? you type quickly.
Please, answer me as soon as possible.
Dad and I are worried.
That last message doesn’t even appear as sent.
“I thought she said she was staying at Mia’s,” Leon finally says. “And she told us she’d be home around 9.30 p.m.”
Your husband turns to face you, arms crossed tightly over his chest. His eyes search yours, though you try your best to avoid them.
“I know.”
“She lied to us, love,” his voice cracks even you know perfectly well he wants to hide his panic.
“Leon: I know,” you repeat.
His jaw clenches and starts going around the kitchen. You know what’s exactly happening inside his head: he’s imagining every possible scenario, the worst ones, even probably none of them happened.
Or they did.
“When she gets home…”
Those words come out sharper than a knife, but you can’t blame him.
After that, he doesn’t say anything else for what feels like hours. You know that’s his way to pretend he’s not falling apart, but still, the edge in his voice stings, specially because this whole mess started long before your daughter stopped answering her phone a few hours ago.
It began with your husband coming home hours after dinner, too exhausted to manage to say more than a few monosyllables. Every single time, you pretended not to notice how hard he was trying to hide everything weighing on him.
Your daughter hadn’t been doing much better as well. She answered everything with monosyllables as well, slammed her bedroom door every time she disappeared upstairs, where she spent way too much time.
Leon and you snap your attention toward the front door the moment you hear it unlock.
You daughter enters your house quietly, completely soaked from the rain pouring outside and freezing the moment she sees both of you there, waiting for her to arrive.
“Hey…” she says carefully, her eyes flicking between your husband and you.
“Where were you?” Leon demands, his voice way more louder and firmer than when he was talking to you.
“Out.”
“No,” his voice rises immediately. “Don’t start with that. Don’t you dare give me those answers right now.”
She doesn’t reply, of course, but what she does is shifting her posture, getting defensive.
You sigh. Typical teenage pride, which is nothing but fear dressed up as anger.
“I was out with my friends.”
“At midnight?” Leon presses her.
“I lost track of time. It happens, you know,” she shrugs. “At least, you should understand me. That’s what you always say happens when you’re at work.”
You see Leon’s hands curl into fists while your daughter’s lips curl into a smile, quite satisfied with herself.
“You lied about where you were going,” he insists. “And, especially, who you were with. Weren’t you supposed to be at Mia’s?”
“Since when do you care so much about my life?”
Those words hit both of you.
Leon take a few steps forward until he’s almost face-to-face with her, but you’re faster. Quickly, you rise from your chair, catch him gently by the wrist, and force him to take a few steps back before he can close de distance.
He looks at you. You know it isn’t anger you’re seeing in his eyes, but anger.
Just like your daughter, Leon’s scared.
“You don’t get to speak to me like that,” Leon says, surprisingly lowering his voice. “Do you have any idea what could’ve happened to you tonight? Do you have any idea what your mother and I’ve been imagining? Huh?”
“I’m great,” she points at herself. “Can’t you see it? Nothing happened.”
“That’s not the point, and I think you know that just as much as we do.”
She rolls her eyes, and you know that only makes Leon even more anxious.
“Don’t,” he warns.
“Oh my God…” she mutters, finally walking over to the counter to pour herself a glass of water, drinking it desperately.
“No. Listen to me for once in your life—”
“Leon, she’s home,” you interrupt gently, resting a hand on his arm. “Let’s all calm down first, and then we can talk about this—”
“No,” he pulls away from your touch so abruptly it catches you off guard. “No, because every single time I try to teach her how things work under this roof, you step in and soften everything.”
Your daughter stares at the two of you, her eyes widening, clearly surprised and feeling that she just made things worse between her parents.
“Leon—”
“She didn’t come home when she promised she would,” his voice rises again. “She couldn’t even send one fucking message. What does she even have a damn phone for? To make TikToks?”
“I know, Leon. I know.”
“She lied to us,” he insists. “And, on top of that, she’s standing there acting like this is a joke.”
You open your mouth to answer, but he cuts you off:
“For once in your life, stop acting like I’m overreacting.”
“I’m not saying you’re overreacting or that you’re crazy, Leon. I’m just saying that there are other ways we could handle this. There doesn’t have to be—”
Your daughter lets out a quiet sigh and, taking advantage that the argument’s shifted between the two of you, she goes toward the stairs.
“Don’t you dare walk away from us now!” Leon shouts.
She stops halfway up the staircase, but doesn’t dare to turn around.
“You’re grounded.”
“What?!”
That’s what makes her turn around.
You see that her eyes are glistening, definitely fighting tears. You know her too well to know that she doesn’t really care about being grounded, and if she’s feeling that way is because she knows she’s disappointed both of you.
“No phone, and no going out,” declares Leon. “Home, school. School, home. That’s what you get until I say otherwise.”
“For how long?” she cries, not being able to hold back tears anymore.
“We’ll see.”
“Fuck! This is so fucking unfair!”
“After the way you behaved tonight, I don’t think you’re in any position to decide what’s unfair,” states your husband, even more angry. “I hope everything’s clear.”
She ignores Leon and looks at you, clearly desperate, as if you having a conversation with her father could somehow fix all this mess…
Like you usually do.
“Mom…”
Your husband notices. He lets out a long and frustrated sigh.
“See?” he lets out a bitter laugh, rolling his eyes. “It’s always the same with you two.”
“Leon—”
“She knows she can get away with anything as long as she gives you those sad puppy eyes and sheds a few tears,” his jaw tightens, same as the rest of his body. “Proof enough I’m right: you always undermine me.”
“I don’t undermine you, Leon. It’s just that—”
“I’m not arguing with you over something I know I’m right about.”
Your daughter’s face tightens up with unmistakable guilt. Then, she says:
“Can you two stop fighting while I’m still here?”
“Go upstairs,” your husband doesn’t even look at her.
“I don’t want to,” she snaps. “This is ridiculous. I know this is my fault, okay? You’ve already grounded me, and now we can’t even have one calm conversation to—”
“Upstairs. Now.”
This time, his voice breaks halfway through the sentence.
Your daughter flinches, and the tears she’s been trying so hard to hold back spill freely now as she rushes upstairs, disappearing into her bedroom before slamming the door hard enough for you to hear it.
Leon sighs, lowering his head and shaking it.
You know that he’s disappointed with himself for becoming the one thing he swore he’d never be the day he found out you were pregnant: the father his daughter is afraid of.
You watch him rake both hands through his hair, desperately trying to calm himself before stopping in front of you.
“You shouldn't have done that in front of her,” you say, your expression remaining completely serious.
He laughs again, this time in disbelief of your words.
“Done what? Act like a worried father?”
“You went way too far with her.”
“She disappeared for hours. She couldn’t even be bothered to answer a damn text.”
“She’s sixteen, Leon!” your own voice rises. “She’s a teenager. The last thing on her mind is texting her parents to tell them she’s okay.”
“So being a teen excuses her shitty behavior?”
“I didn’t say that. I’m just saying—”
“Then why is it that I always have to end up being the bad guy?”
You hold his gaze. Seeing how exhausted he looks makes you want to leave this conversation for another moment, but you know he won’t let it go.
“That’s not fair,” is all you manage to say, quietly.
“Oh, it isn’t?” he steps even closer. “Because every time I’m honest with her, you jump in like I’m saying something crazy. And I’m not crazy, you know. I just—”
“Sometimes you act as if you really lost your mind, Leon,” the words leave your mind before you can soften them. “Specially, when you’re scared something bad might happen. I understand why, I really do, but you can’t be this overprotective because—”
His expression hardens instantly, and the rest of the sentence dies in your throat.
“So now I’m crazy and overprotective.”
“That’s not what I meant,” you rush to reply.
“For someone who didn’t mean it…” he laughs humorlessly. “That’s exactly what you said.”
You step around him, heading towards the living room and refusing to look back because you know he’s following you.
“God, this is exactly what I mean,” Leon says, throwing his hands into the ait. His voice is louder now, edged with frustration. “I say one thing, and somehow you twist it into something completely different.”
You stop and turn around.
The anger on his face catches you off guard, and he seems to realize it too.
You know he regrets what he just said, but he doesn’t know how to take it back.
That just makes a painful silence settle between you two and, now, you’re the one fighting back tears.
“So you really think I make you feel that way?” you dare asking your husband.
“You don’t trust me when it comes to her,” his eyes meet yours. “You make me feel like I’m a bad father.”
“That’s not true, Leon. Don’t go there, because—”
“You act like I’m some emotionally repressed asshole whose damn trauma keeps him from knowing how to talk to his own daughter.”
“Leon, that’s not—”
“You know what? I try. God, I try so damn hard, but sometimes…”
His voice breaks before he can finish and, somehow, that hurts even more.
“I know you do,” you answer softly, taking one hesitant step closer to him.
“Do you?”
He sounds devastated. He sounds so different from the man who’d been shouting only minutes ago that it completely catches you off guard. But, especially… you’re grateful he’s letting himself be this vulnerable with you, even he doesn’t seem to know how to handle his emotions quite well.
“No matter how hard I try…” he keeps talking, his voice barely audible now. “It never feels like enough. I never feel like I’m good enough for either of you.”
Those words shatter something inside you, your tears finally escaping.
All you want is to wrap your arms around him. You want to tell him the last few months have been completely shit, but that everything will get better.
However, you don’t. You know Leon better than anyone. After all these years together dating, marriage, and building a family together, you’ve learnt that physical comfort is the last thing he wants when he’s feeling this exposed and vulnerable.
Leon braces both his hands against the kitchen counter, staring down at the floor.
“I work more hours than most people in this country,” he says hoarsely. “Partly, because I’m trying to keep this family safe for all the shit out there. I do everything I can to stay on top of everyone’s lives…” he lets out a shaky breath, “and, somehow, I still feel like a stranger every time I walk into my own home.”
“Leon… that’s not true—”
“I’ve missed way too many of those stupid parent-teacher conferences,” he continues. “I’ve missed gymnastics competitions, soccer games…” he laughs bitterly at himself. “Fuck it, even half the time we’re togethe she barely says a word to me unless she really wants something.”
“She’s a teen,” you remind him gently.
“She used to tell me everything,” his voice cracks again. “Now she looks at me like I’m a fucking intruder instead of someone she can trust.”
The pain in his voice is what destroys you.
“And don’t you think I miss all of that too?” you ask quietly, folding your arms around yourself. He finally looks at you. “You come home exhausted… When you actually do, because sometimes the DSO, apparently, needs you more than we do,” your voice trembles. “And even when you’re here… your mind always seems to be somewhere else. On some mission that has nothing to do with your family.”
Leon closes his eyes and sighs. He knows you’re right, but he just doesn’t know how to admit it.
“You think I want my entire life to belong to the DSO?”
“No,” you shake your head. “But the way you act… Sometimes, it feels like it does.”
“I’m doing everything I can, love,” his voice is almost pleading now. “You know I am.”
“And so am I, Leon!” the words come out louder than you want. “I carry everything when you’re gone which, believe it or not, is more often that I’d like,” tears stream freely down your face now. “The phone calls from school, the psychologist appointments, mood swings, the panic attacks…”
Leon jerks his head up.
“What you mean panic attacks?”
You freeze.
Fuck.
You weren’t supposed to tell him. Color drains slowly from your face.
“What do you mean with panic attacks?” he asks again, more desperate.
“The last one was last week. On Friday. It was when you had to leave because of those cases in Wrenwood, and—”
“And it never crossed your mind to tell me?” he asks, the hurt in his voice outweighing the anger.
“She begged me not to,” you wipe your tears away as quickly as they fall.
“Still, you should've told me!”
“Do you have any idea how terrified she was that you’d think something was wrong with her?”
“Oh my God…” he whispers. “How could I ever think that about her when I’ve been having panic attacks myself for almost the past thirty years of my life?”
Guilt hits him instantly. He drags both hands over his face for what feels like the hundredth time that day but this time, you notice they’re trembling.
“Leon—”
“She’s been having panic attacks, and I didn’t even know.”
“I already told you: you were away because of those cases and, then, everything related with your illness, and—”
“So what?” he suddenly shouts. “I’m still her father! You should've told me! Why does it feel like both you and her have decided I don’t get to know what’s going on in your lives unless everything blows up in my fucking face like it has tonight?”
A noise echoes from upstairs, and the two of you fall silent almost instantly, even containing your breathing, as if that alone might undo what was just said.
Of course: your daughter’s been listening.
“Great,” your husband mutters, pacing the kitchen again. “Fucking great.”
“Can we not?” you whisper, hurrying over to him. “You told you, Leon: this isn’t the time.”
“Then when is it the time?” he shoots back. “Because, apparently, it never is until everything explodes like it did today. Do you want this to happen again?”
“That’s not fair, Leon. You know whenever something’s wrong, we sit down and talk about it, but—”
“No,” he shakes his head. “The last few months we’ve done nothing but circle around any problem, avoiding it until it blow up,” he repeat, gesturing between the two of you. “Exaclty like we’re doing now.”
“Because every time I try, you shut down or get defensive.”
He looks at you, not really believing you’re talking about him even deep down you know by his expression he realizes you’re right.
“If I get defensive it’s because I feel like I’m getting closer and closer to losing both of you,” Leon forces to pause himself. “Do you know what scares me the most?”
The anxiety slowly leaves your body, replaced by an overwhelming sadness.
“It scares me coming home one day and realising the two of you can live perfectly fine without me, and I’m nothing to you but a mere stranger.”
His eyes drop to the floor, barely holding himself together.
“Realising I don’t deserve either of you—”
“Leon, don’t say that,” you interrupt him.
“Our daughter…” his voice trembles. “The little girl who used to do everything with me now can barely look me in the eye. Fuck, she barely even speaks to me. And you…” he forces out a shaky laugh. “Every time I come home, you look completely exhausted, like you’re tired of everything.”
“Because I am,” you answer without hesitation. Leon lifts his face to you. “You’re not the only one who’s scared, Leon. You’re not the only one carrying more than anyone realises,” you wipe your cheeks. “I’m scared too,” you let out a broken laugh. “And, just like you, I’ve been pretending I’m fine. And look where that’s got us.”
You sink into one of the chairs, burying your face in your hands. Leon doesn’t move.
“I don’t even know what I’m doing anymore. I wake up every day feeling like all I do is fail. Like I’m a terrible mother,” your voice cracks, while your husband is frozen. “I try so, so hard, and yet somehow noting I do feels enough.”
“I’m sorry.”
You look up. Leon’s staring at you with eyes that’ve turned bright red.
“I’m sorry,” he says again. “I shouldn’t have said any of those things to you,” he shakes his head. “And I shouldn’t have told you that you make me feel small.”
“It’s okay.”
Even those are the words that leave your mouth, you know they aren’t true, and all this will replay in your head for weeks, constantly overthinking.
“No. It’s not,” Leon says immediately, taking a slow breath. Then, he softens his voice: “You were trying to protect her, just like I was.
A sad smile appears on his face, as his lips tremble with that confession.
He drifts his eyes towards the staircase, tracing the path your daughter disappeared just a few minutes ago.
“I scared her—”
“No.”
You close the distance between you two, immediately taking his hands firmly in yours, rubbing your thumb across his knuckles.
“You scared yourself,” your voice’s gentle. “And, because you were scared… you lost control.”
“I couldn’t— I can’t stop thinking about everything that could’ve happened tonight.”
Fear controls him once again. He slips an arm around your waist but, this time, you don’t hesitate: you wrap your arms around him, resting your head against his chest.
You realise his heartbeat is quite too fast, and hope it doesn’t go faster.
“She could’ve been in a car accident,” his voice shakes, and squeezes his eyes. “Someone could’ve kidnaped her. Or what if someone had—”
“Leon: stop.”
You pull back enough to cup his face in both your hands, forcing him to look at you.
“You’re her father,” your thumbs brush gently across his cheeks. “No matter how badly you want to protect her, you can’t control everything.”
“I know,” Leon takes your hands, and now he’s the one pressing soft kisses to them. “But knowing that doesn’t stop my brain from telling me it’s my job to protect you both. You two are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and that’s exactly why I can’t lose you.”
You hate yourself for letting tears fall once again.
“Do you know what scares me? That we’re trying so, so hard, to have a good relationship with her, to raise her to be a good person, that maybe we’re missing something else,” you let out a shaky breath. “I know all this is part of raising a teenager. I know she’s supposed to become independent and all that, but… What if one day she doesn’t need us anymore?”
“She still needs us,” Leon looks at you utterly broken, understanding exactly what you mean. “And even when she’s independent, a tiny part of her will always needs us,” he brushes a strand of hair from your face. “We’re not going to lose her, even if that’s exactly what it feels like we’re doing.”
Leon pulls you tightly against him, desperate. You bury your face in his chest once again, a sob escaping your lips before you can stop it, wishing your daughter didn’t hear it.
Your husband holds you even tighter. His hand moves slowly up and down your back, while he presses gentle kisses to your cheek, rocking you two softly, trying to find the calm you’ve been searching for, the one you desperately need.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers into your hair, completely shattered. “I’m so, so sorry, love.”
“I’ve missed you.”
That confession leaves you between sobs as you cling to his shirt, feeling his arms tense around you.
“I miss my husband,” you let out another sob. “I miss talking to you without you checking your phone every five minutes in case there’s another outbreak. I miss you coming to bed with me at a normal hour. I miss not feeling alone all the time.”
“I’m sorry,” he repeats, his voice barely audible. “You have no idea how much I hate myself for that.”
Your crying doesn’t stop yet, and Leon just holds you closer, if that’s even possible.
“I’m trying to give you both the best life I can.”
“You already do, Leon. It’s just—”
“I know,” he cuts you off gently. “I know I’m not here as much as I should, but from now on… I’m going to try harder. I’m going to be here for you both.”
He rests his forehead against yours before leaving a soft kiss on your lips, tasting the salt of your tears.
You need Leon way more than you’re willing to admit, so it doesn’t surprise you that, the moment he starts pulling away from you, you kiss him again. This time is longer, deeper, a kiss that tastes like months of longing, hurt, relief, and every single feeling the two of you have buried for way too long.
“I don’t want us to become strangers, love,” he admits, his hands still cradling your face.
“We won’t.”
“How are you so sure? After everything that’s—”
You silence him with another kiss.
“People who stop loving each other don’t fight the way we’re doing to keep moving forward,” your thumb brushes gently across his face, and offer him a small, shy smile. “After all the mess we’ve made… we’re finding our way back to each other. To us.”
For the first time in a long, long time, you see Leon’s eyes fill with tears.
Last time you’d seen him cry was the day he found out he was dying from something he had no idea about. The very same day he realised he really could lose you both forever.
“I love you so much,” he whispers. “Somtimes, I love you that much that it scares me more than it should. Love shouldn’t scare, you know.”
You leave a kiss on his forehead. Then, another one on his neck. You feel his hands tremble slightly against your waist as your lops linger there, your arms winding around his neck.
“I’m going to do better,” he murmurs. “I swear, I’m going to fight for us.”
“You don’t have to be perfect, Leon. I don’t want you to be perfect.”
“I know,” he lets out a tired breath. “I just don’t want you carrying all of this by yourself.”
“You're already carrying too much,” you tell him. “You need to take some time off before you end up having a heart attack. Give it a thought to have a chat with any of your superiors, please.”
A weak laugh escapes his lips. He knows you’re right.
“We’re idiots. Both of us.”
You smile through your tears, not even daring to argue with him since for the first time in a long time, your husband’s more right that he’s been in a while.
“I’m so sorry I yelled at you,” Leon says, pressing another kiss to your forehead. “I never should’ve done that.”
“I’m sorry too,” you lower your eyes. “Specially for keeping things from you that you absolutely deserved to know.”
The guilt of hiding your daughter’s panic attacks still weighs heavily on your chest.
Leon gently brushes his thumbs beneath your eyes, wiping away the tears that seem to refuse to stop falling.
“Even with that, you’re still the best mom in the world.”
You laugh, even those words only make you want to cry even more.
“And you’re still the best dad in the world. No matter what, okay, Mr. Overthinker?”
“You really believe that?” Leon asks, almost… worried, ashamed.
“Of course I do.”
“But she was scared when I was yelling at her,” he closes his eyes, the image of your daughter frozen halfway up the stairs flashing through his mind. “I don’t want her to be afraid of me. Ever.”
“She’s not afraid of you, love,” you reply, tho he doesn’t look quite convinced. “She’s afraid of disappointing you. And, today…” you sigh, squeezing his hand, “she, indeed, disappointed us.”
“We should go check on her.”
That’s all Leon says, and you couldn’t agree more.
Without saying another word, the two of you head upstairs, carefully, his hand searching for yours, your fingers threading together before you reach your daughter’s bedroom.
You move to step inside, still holding Leon’s hand, but he doesn’t.
He hesitates, and you can almost feel the fear of fucking up again consuming him, so you do what you’ve always done for him: reminding him he isn’t alone.
You look at him and smile. A small nod encourages him to follow your steps while you continue stroking the back of his hand, silently telling him what words can’t.
I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.
Together, you step inside, finding out your daughter’s fast asleep, curled against the wall. She has one arm wrapped around the pillow she’s had since she was little, while her favourite stuffed animal, Chris’s gift to her when she was just 2, is tucked against her chest.
You see that there are still tears staining her cheeks, and Leon notices them too.
Quietly, he walks over and pulls the blanket up around her shoulders, covering the legs she’d kicked free in her sleep.
She shifts slightly, which makes Leon instinctively step back, but thankfully she doesn’t wake up.
After hesitating for a bit, Leon crouches beside the bed, pressing gently a kiss to her forehead.
“I love you,” he whispers, not making the effort to hide those words from you. “We’ll figure this out even I’m a dick.”
You quickly look for his hand the moment he stands and look at him, who simply nods to lead you out of the room, closing the door as carefully as he can before guiding you to your bedroom.
The second you step inside, the full weight of the argument crashes all over you. Your head hurts a lot, and you already know tomorrow’s migraine’s going to be insane unless you have some medicine for it.
Leon sits down on the edge of the bed, not having any idea of what to say.
You climb onto the mattress, moving across it on your knees until you’re sitting behind him and wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him gently back against you. Your husband lets his head rest against your shoulder.
“You have no idea how much I hate when we fight,” he murmurs, letting out the quietest groan as your fingers begin kneading the tension from his shoulders.
You’re too exhausted to answer, so when your silence lingers, Leon turns slightly to look at you. Then, carefully, he eases you both down on bed, slipping one arm beneath your neck.
“I love you.”
Your fingers disappear in his hair while his free arm circles your waist, drawing you closer.
“I love you too, Leon Kennedy.”
You rest your head against his chest, calming down as his heartbeat’s way calmer and steady now, perfectly in sync with your own.
“We should get some sleep,” your husband murmurs, rolling onto his side so he can face you.
“Your words, not mine,” you pull the blankets over both of you before wrapping your arms around his waist. “So you better put every intrusive thought aside and go sleep with me.”
The corners of his mouth lift into a tired smile.
“You’re never going to stop being bossy, right?”
“Come on,” you curve your lips slightly, but your smile can only grow bigger as Leon’s does. “As if you don’t secretly love it.”
THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING! Feedback, as well as comments and/or reblogs, are very much appreciated! My inbox is also open in case you want to make a request or talk to me! 💖
Luis: Renovahgander (Wears a DNA Mask to hide his true form)
Leon10 AU
I changed Jill to to be a Chimera Sui Generis (alien like Vilgax) and I think I'll have Krauser be an Osmosian instead?
-Chris and Claire only find out they were are part alien after being around Leon and the Omnitrix for a few years. Getting exposed to the watch's energy awakened their Anodite DNA, allowing them to slowly gain magic like abilities and eventually the ability to fully transform. Claire is a fast flyer and can volley a bunch of energy blasts, while Chris likes to channel his energy into giving him super strength.
-Luis was born an alien and given a 'magic' ring by his grandfather to hide his alien form. Luis was told to NEVER take the ring off no matter what, but unfortunately Luis broke that rule once when he was a child. He took the ring off in front of a villager, who freaked out and tried to kill him as soon as his form changed.
Luis was able to get away, but getting attacked was extremely traumatic for him and he repressed the knowledge of his alien form and NEVER took the ring off again, so he thinks he's still 100% human.
-Jill becomes an alien after being experimented on by Wesker in RE5, who seems to have acquired some VERY interesting DNA. Later on she'll get a ring like Luis to help hide her alien form.
