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There was blood dripping onto the floor. Leon watched with a detached sort of fascination as the puddle grew beneath his boots.
A stuttered snarl brought his eyes to the infected officer splayed out a few feet from him, and Leon’s empty stomach still found the strength to give a halfhearted lurch at the sight of his combat knife buried in the man’s eye.
“If you see one of those things, uniform or not, you do not hesitate.”
Lieutenant Branagh’s words replayed in Leon’s mind as he exhaled shakily. It’s either them or me. Get it together before another one shows up.
Leon knew he should grab the knife. He shouldn’t let a perfectly good weapon go to waste. He’d shot other officers before, so why should this be any different?
Shaking his head, Leon took a hesitant step forward, only to fall to his knees with a strangled cry. His pants were uncomfortably wet with the blood still pooling underneath him, and Leon barely had time to wonder how it’d grown so large before another sharp pang raced up his side.
“What the hell?” he hissed between gritted teeth. A jagged piece of metal stuck out of his left side, courtesy of his coworker’s choice to shove Leon onto a pile of rubble during their struggle. Leon was baffled that he’d managed to miss it. Adrenaline is one hell of a drug, I guess.
Bracing himself, Leon wrapped both hands around the metal and groaned as it shifted in his grip.
“F—fuck.” Leon squeezed his eyes shut and began his mental countdown. Once it was out he’d apply some first-aid spray and be back to killing zombies in no time. “Fuck. Okay. Okay, just do it.”
Leon’s countdown reached zero and he pulled hard. The metal came free with a nauseating squelch, and Leon couldn’t hold back his scream as fire filled his insides.
Blood flowed fast onto stained flooring, and harsh, gasping breaths tore out of his lungs as Leon pressed a shaking hand to his side. He fumbled for the pouch on his belt that held his first-aid spray with the other.
Desperate fingers closed on nothing but air.
“No.” He felt around his pouch again, eventually unbuckling the belt entirely and sifting through its contents while the wetness beneath his knees spread. “No, no, no, no.”
The sound that Leon made was somewhere between a laugh and a sob as blood seeped through his fingers. I’m going to die, he thought, kneeling on the floor of a police station gone to shit, in a city that he’d been warned to stay away from.
I hope Claire finds her brother. And I hope they both make it out of here.
Leon was shaken out of his head by dull, rhythmic vibrations coming from behind him. His vision blurred for a moment as he tried to recall where he was. East hallway, he suddenly remembered. That means that behind me is the door to the…fire escape?
The vibrations had turned into metallic clangs, and Leon felt dread like ice racing down his spine. He put his belt back on with trembling fingers and braced his free hand against the wall, pulling himself to his feet with a strained cry.
Each step was agony, and Leon felt unshed tears burning in eyes as he forced himself to move. He made it down the hallway with his legs threatening to give out, and Leon looked anxiously at the winding path leading to the main hall, where he might throw off the monster tailing him. He knew he couldn’t make it that far.
At that moment, a terrifying blow to the fire escape door turned Leon’s insides to liquid fear. An actual dent had appeared in the metal in the shape of an inhumanly large fist.
“Shit! Him again?!” Leon cursed, and that’s when his legs finally decided enough was enough. He hit the floor with a thump that jarred the hand pressed to his side, and Leon let out a scream between clenched teeth.
That’s also when the hulking nightmare decided to rip the fire escape door from its hinges.
Leon’s guts churned at the sight of the monster’s twisted, expressionless face as it stepped into the hallway. They both froze, and for one bizarre moment, Leon thought it might just turn away and leave him be.
Then the footsteps started again.
Scooting himself backwards, Leon cast a desperate look around him as the monster approached. His heart thundered in his chest and Leon didn’t know what else to do but keep moving. His side burned and he felt the meager contents of his stomach rising in his throat and it kept coming towards him.
He passed the door to the bathroom, sheer terror keeping him going. Leon’s breaths came in ragged pants, and his vision was starting to become worryingly spotty. His frantic movements had created some space between him and the monster though, and a small voice in Leon’s head told him he might actually survive this.
Then his back hit a wall.
Leon tried to grab for the gun in its holster, he did, but his hands wouldn’t listen. They fell limp at his sides and Leon watched the blood pouring freely from his wound for a moment before he realized that he couldn’t feel the pain anymore. His head rested against the wall with a quiet thump, and Leon watched as the monster came to a stop with its boots inches from his own.
His vision blacked out for a moment, and when it returned the monster had crouched down, staring at Leon’s face with such a soulless and detached gaze that he felt hot tears prick at the corners of his eyes.
Screw the tough act. Screw the sarcastic quips and the dry jokes. Leon was scared. He didn’t want to die like this, filthy and alone. He regretted coming to the station, and he regretted stopping for gas, and he regretted driving into town—
A broken sob left him, and for the first time in a very long time, Leon Scott Kennedy began to cry.
“P—please,” he slurred, squeezing his eyes shut. His chest stuttered with every tear that rolled down his face and his body trembled with a cold fear that pierced his heart. This couldn’t be the end, could it? He wondered if it would hurt when the monster crushed his skull in its massive grasp. He wondered if he could still feel any pain at all. “Please, don’t…”
Leon felt like he was floating.
“…don’t…”
I’m so sorry, Claire.
Another shaky breath, and Leon felt nothing at all.
❧
Leon woke with a large hand on his head and another on his neck.
He let out a weak scream, bringing his hands up to scratch feebly at the arms caging him in. Damn it, why couldn’t he have died before the monster killed him?
His heart beat impossibly fast as he imagined that deadened expression staring down at him while the life left his body, and Leon didn’t even register that he’d begun to cry again. He kept his eyes shut tight, not wanting that monster’s horrible face to be the last thing he saw.
“No, no, no, no, please d—don’t,” he begged, knowing nothing would come of it. He would be crushed and Claire would be alone and he’d have failed everyone.
The hand on his neck shifted to cup his chin, and Leon flinched away as the hand on his head came to rest on his cheek. His breaths rasped painfully in his throat and he couldn’t control the tremors racing through him. His side ached and Leon felt a shameful fire lick at his ears as pitiful, shaking whimpers escaped him.
It was then that the most peculiar thing happened.
He heard a soft shushing noise, and the thumb on his cheek began to wipe away the tears still falling from Leon’s eyes.
“Hey, hey, relax okay? You’re safe now.”
The voice was deep like thunder and trying hard to be soothing, and as Leon risked peeking out through wet lashes, the arms around him relaxed. The thumb never paused in wiping his tears.
“You’re fine, see? You feeling a little better?”
Leon tried to match his stuttering gasps to the slow and steady breaths of the man in front of him. As he did, he studied the man’s face. Short, dark hair and warm brown eyes with a hard face and days-old stubble greeted him. The man gave him a small, concerned smile, and Leon realized he’d been staring for a moment too long.
His tears had finally dried up, and the man’s hands moved off his face. He was left feeling strangely bereft of their absence. Leon sniffed and tried to stop his trembling as well, and failed miserably.
Nodding made his head spin, and Leon shut his eyes again with a soft groan. “What—what happened?”
The man passed him a water bottle and Leon let the man help him drink, his shaky hand covered by a steadier one. After capping the bottle and putting it aside, the man sighed and turned to Leon with a grin that looked more like a grimace.
“I came to the station figuring there might be some survivors still holding on. Was coming up the fire escape when I saw the door had been…destroyed. I heard you screaming a second later.”
He sighed, running a hand through his short hair.
“I managed to knock down the big guy for a minute, enough to pick you up and bring you here to my boss’s office. You were out cold, even after I used first-aid spray. Didn’t really know if you’d make it. There was a lot of blood.”
Leon’s hand automatically went to his side. The wound had nearly closed up, and the sight of his skin mending loosened the tension in his chest.
“Thank you,” Leon said with a small, wobbly smile. “You saved my life.”
The man grinned properly this time, waving it off with a gesture to himself. “All part of the job.”
It was then that Leon noticed the uniform the man was wearing. One that matched his own. Glancing around them, he realized that the man must’ve taken him to the S.T.A.R.S. Unit office.
They were currently hiding behind the desk, as far from the door as they could get. The man had propped Leon against the desk drawers and was crouched in front of him with a gun within reach. Leon’s own gun was next to it, along with his belt.
“You got a name?”
Leon startled, eyes snapping back to the man as he smiled apologetically.
“Leon.” He scrubbed at his face with the back of his hand, embarrassed by his tears now that he knew he was with a fellow officer. And a S.T.A.R.S. officer at that. “Leon S. Kennedy.”
The man’s eyes widened comically and he laughed. “You’re the rookie! We were all looking forward to meeting you,” he said, softer now.
“Yeah, shit, me too.” Leon sighed, running his hands through greasy strands of blond. His eyes dropped to his own uniform, and Leon flinched at the sight of the bloodied combat knife poking out of his pocket.
“Shit,” he repeated, his heart starting to pound in his ears. His hands shook as he gripped his hair in tight fists. “I—I killed them,” Leon said in a strangled voice.
Grabbing Leon’s hands, the man pulled them away and held strong as Leon began to struggle. Tugging against the iron grip did nothing and Leon blinked furiously as his never-ending tears tried to escape.
“Hey, Rookie, you’re gonna hurt yourself,” the man said, a deep frown looking foreign on his face. “ Hey, relax.”
“I killed them,” Leon repeated, shaking his head and ignoring the spinning that came with it. “They were s—supposed to be my coworkers and I fucking killed them.”
“Leon—”
“—I killed Elliot—”
“Leon—”
“—I killed Marvin—”
“LEON!”
Leon’s jaw shut with a snap as the man’s shout echoed in the tiny room office. He flinched backwards into the desk, and the man immediately let his arms go as he hid his face in his knees and tears fell once again.
“Sorry,” he whispered, not daring to look up. Leon felt his cheeks turn red and bit down harshly on his lip to avoid making a sound as he cried.
Jesus, he must think I’m such a fucking loser.
“No, don’t—I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled like that.”
Leon shrugged, sniffling into his knees.
A forceful exhale, and then: “Rookie, look at me.”
He didn’t want to. Leon had made enough of a fool of himself in front of this guy and the last thing he wanted to do was let him see his blotchy, snotty face.
Leon looked at him—
—and was pulled into a hug.
He froze, tears still silently tracking down his face. The man’s arms were strong and his embrace was warm. Leon felt hands running up and down his back, a soothing motion that made a shiver run down his spine. When was the last time someone had hugged him? Leon couldn’t even remember.
“Rookie—Leon, listen to me for a sec, okay?” The man asked, lips pressed against blond bangs. Leon gave a small nod and felt a warm sigh on the top of his head.
“You did what you had to do. They were infected, Rookie, there was nothing human left inside them. Never apologize for defending yourself against those things.”
The man pulled Leon closer to his chest, effectively muffling any protests, before continuing.
“You’re so fucking amazing. You’ve made it so far and you did it alone, and I hate that, but you’ve been so brave. The others would’ve been proud of you, Rookie, and I’m proud of you, but you’re not alone anymore. I have your back now, so just…”
He trailed off, looking concerned as Leon’s sniffles turned into shaking sobs.
Leon clung to the man as his tears soaked the poor guy’s shirt. “I was s—so scared,” he cried, barely able to understand himself.
“I know, it’ll be alright. I've got you.”
He felt a hand running through his hair, blunt nails soothing a pounding headache Leon hadn’t even noticed.
After a couple minutes, Leon leaned back and wiped his eyes with a semi-clean portion of his glove.
“I feel like we’re doing this backwards,” he said with a small laugh, meeting the man’s warm eyes. “I don’t even know your name.”
Another grin, and this time Leon’s blush was impossible to miss. “Chris Redfield,” the man said, sticking out a blood-encrusted hand for Leon to shake.
Leon didn’t take the hand, though. He didn’t do anything but stare at Chris in complete shock.
“You’re Claire’s brother?!”
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