The Who: Leon, Claire...and some terrible angst.

The For: Ryan. Merry late Christmas. I'm so sorry this is god-awful.

The Random: LOLOLOL, I swear, I'm trying to finish Serendipity. It isn't going so well. I need prompts and ideas. But you'll get an update...sooner or later.

"Leon, move!" The blond haired government agent did such, rolling his body out of the way before the teeth—the nasty, disgusting, rotting enamel—came into contact with the flesh of his exposed arm. A layer of sweat and grime coated his body as he positioned his gun in his hands, quickly taking out the opposing monster that had threatened him prior. Beside him, the younger woman let out a sigh of relief, wiping her perspiring brow with the back of her glove. Her red hair was tied back in a classic ponytail, tired stormy-colored eyes affixed on the now unmoving body, drinking in the horror with nothing but a straight spine and look of disgust. Wordlessly she jammed a magazine into the bottom of her handgun, breathing in a shaky exhale before turning and glancing at him, a worn smile painting on the corners of her mouth.

He merely returned the action with a dip to his head, signifying that he was ready to move again. How he ended up in this situation with Claire Redfield again was nothing short of a mystery for him. One minute he had been sent in to deal with an outbreak in a small village in France and, the next, the younger Redfield had a gun to his head, mouth parted in a shocked expression. She quickly laughed at his placid expression and removed the barrel of her weapon from his temple; clearly she had been far more amused than he (then again, she wasn't the one who had a gun to her head just five seconds ago). As they walked through the desolated area, Claire quickly filled in him on her findings, as well as the reason why she was there in the first place. As she prattled on, Leon couldn't help but quirk a smile and shake his head, listening as Claire commented on something trivial, just to make sure the two of them weren't submerged in silence.

Truth be told, Leon wouldn't want anyone else for a partner other than Claire Redfield.

He wouldn't go as far as to say that she completed him, because she didn't. He wasn't lost without her, and she sure as hell didn't need him, although she would often say how it was nice just to spend time with him. Claire didn't hold his heart in the palm of her hand, nor did she cause a round of butterflies to erupt in his stomach every time their skin came into contact with one another, whether it be accidental or not. Leon had experienced feelings like those before and, like everything else, that intense spark that had once been so strong in a relationship could easily die out. No, he never felt those things for the red haired woman beside him, who was cautiously scanning over the shadowed areas as they continued on as they walked towards the helicopter pad, but he could say that there was something there.

He felt just something when she smiled at him and spoke about the next time they'd meet up, despite the fact that they were trekking through more than slightly dangerous territory. Something within him stirred when she was laughing, even if it was at his own expense. And when their hands brushed in the slightest touch, Leon couldn't help the warm and secure feeling that flooded his body, along with the multiple ideas that floated along in his head. A relationship between them would be something akin to a tragedy, with his always-on-call job and her constant need to be involved in her own line of work. Their personalities were almost nothing alike, but somehow melted together almost rhythmically, with her personality being the booming melody to his soft harmony. She was the one person in his life he could trust unconditionally, no matter what, and despite how hard the situation seemed.

Leon S. Kennedy might have been a lone wolf, but when he was with Claire, he couldn't help but wish that he wasn't, even if it was just for her sake.

"Something up, or are you just concentrating more than usual?" Claire's voice broke whatever musing that had been running down the halls of his mind. Leon only sighed and shook his head, a thick lock of dirty blond hair obscuring his vision.

"Unless you count my wishing that our pickup location was closer? Nope."

Claire snorted next to him, "Exercise is good for you, though. You're starting to look a little pudgy there, Ace. Too many late night doughnuts?"

Feigning a shocked expression, the government agent shook his head and chuckle, if only slightly. "You caught me," he admitted rather sardonically, keeping his eyes open for any noise that could be lurking around the area. It was true that the last zombie they had encountered was a few minutes ago, but before that it had been far too quiet. Surely there were more people, even if it was a tiny village, right? The silence just didn't make any sense to him, pricking the back of his spine in a dangerous way. If Claire was fazed she didn't voice it, intense blue eyes too busy fiddling with the safety of her gun. Inwardly, he couldn't help but admire Claire for her unwavering bravery, and her constant ability to go forward, even if the situation seemed hopeless.

There were times that she was more brave than he ever could hope to be.

A soft crashing noise alerted the two of them as they whipped around, Leon pointing his infamous silver ghost handgun outward . Next to him, Claire sucked in air through her teeth, clutching her shotgun with a tightened grip; the white tips of her fingers was enough of a clue for him to figure out that she was alarmed.

"What do you think it is?" she asked softly and Leon didn't reply, a wave of cold sweat building up at his temples. Out of the corner of his eye, Leon saw a small flash of movement before he angled his body, arm rising up and finger pulling the trigger all within seconds. Finally, the pair stiffened as low, gravely moans invaded their eardrums, the shuffling of feet just barely recognizable.

Leon didn't allow his brain to over-analyze the situation, "Claire, c'mon!" He wasted no time, hand reaching out and gripping the red head's upper arm in a firm hold. It only took her a moment to realize the severity of the situation as a horde of the undead made themselves visible, the rotten smell of decaying flesh filling her nostrils. Once Leon let go of her arm, Claire was right at his side, legs pumping in order to keep up with Leon's fast-paced sprint. There was no words exchanged between the two of them until they reached an alleyway, a fire escape being their only means of getting the hell out of there.

"Leon, stop! Look, it's the helicopter pad!" Claire pointed frantically, body quivering from having run all that way. For the last two hours, Leon was vaguely reminded of Raccoon City, and every single horror that plagued the two of them since then. In a sense, Leon shouldn't be scared; he had survived Spain, and that was another nightmare, right? Yet here he was, afraid, and the only logical thing he could think of was if Claire was alright. His eyes scanned her once, twice, and three times for any signs of injuries.

Exhaling deeply, Leon, slid his gun back into his holster, motioning towards the long ladder, "You go first. I'll stay down here and cover you."

Claire sent him a wary look, "No, you go up first. I'm a big girl, and I know how to shoot a gun. Besides, you're the agent. If something happens to you, what then?"

"Claire-"

"Don't argue with me," she finalized the conversation, giving his back a hard shove, "and just go."

Leon sighed, knowing that there was no way he could sway her, and began to climb up the ladder. Faintly, he could hear Claire beginning to climb up after him, which quelled the anxiety grabbing at his throat. It was quiet as he reached the top of the building, the only noise he could hear being the thumping of his heart inside of his ears. As he turned around to glance at Claire, a feeling of dread and horror washed over him, bubbling and eating away at the lining of his stomach. "Claire, behind you!" he yelled, and reached for the gun hanging off the side of his belt. Alarmed, Claire glanced down and let out a scream of terror as a bloodied mouth clamped over her arm, tearing away at her jacket's material, teeth sinking down into her skin. Dazed, she quickly grabbed her knife from out of her pocket and jammed it into the zombie's head, watching with a satisfaction as he fell from off of the ladder and on to the ground. Nothing seemed to be processing in her head; not when Leon's hands gripped her arms and lifted her up on to the roof with him, and not as he ripped off her thin jacket, revealing the deep gash on her forearm.

The blond was at a loss of what to do. He had seen people die, had watched as they turned into a monster, but never had he experienced a loss such as this one. This wasn't some random agent he worked with; this was Claire fucking Redfield, his only sense of normality, the only splash of color and life in his boring, gray, dull world.

And now she was dying.

"You're going to be okay. Just hang on, we'll get you out of here and-"

"Leon," Claire's voice stilled him, soothed him even, as he stared down at her face, "stop it. Don't lie to yourself. We both know what's happening...and what you have to do."

"No."

"But you ha-"

"I said no, dammit," Leon's temper flared slightly at the thought of what came next. "I can't do that. Don't ask me to, Claire."

Claire coughed violently, her entire body twitching and heaving due to the virus now running inside of her veins, destroying all of her T-cells, and normal functioning of her brain. Opening her eyes, she gave him a hard stare, "You have to do this, Leon. This is your job. I knew what I was getting into when I signed up for Terrasave, and so did you when you joined the government."

He stiffened above her, head hung low, as his hand found hers. "I just don't know what to do. I can't...I don't...," he took a shaky breath, grip on her hand tightening, "I love yo-"

"Don't," Claire warned, her eyes flashing and pricking with hot liquid that threatened to spill down her cheeks. It was sososo hard to concentrate, hard to think about anything else than the pain in her arm; in her head. Yet, she still held on, eyes closing again so she didn't have to see the look of several emotions on Leon's face, "Don't say anything, please. Just...kill me. It's getting hard to think and I feel like I'm on fire."

Leon shook his head several times, hand shaking and reaching for his gun that had fallen on the concrete. With shaking hands, he lifted the gun, his stomach churning and lurching with vile before he mumbled something, and pulled the trigger.

The gunshot rang into his ears like a loud bass drum, sinking his heart into his stomach. He should have been quicker, stronger, faster; he might have been able to save her. And, as the helicopter landed down in front of him, Leon didn't spare the body a look as a team of medics went to collect it.

He never looked back.