Leon stared out of the window, eyes fixed on nothing in particular, completely unblinking. He was watching grey storm-clouds cluster and mass in the thick air, the growling of thunder gently pounding at his eardrums. He could see the whole city from where he was, the fourth floor of the New Jersey state hospital. It was a quite breathtaking view through the thick, sound-muting glass; but the view, replete with towering skyscrapers and teeming life, was not something that was bothering him right now.

   With one hand, he scratched absently at his knee. He frowned at the numb sensation that passed through him as he scratched; not for the first time, he felt utter, all-encompassing misery. The nurses said that the view was good for him, that it would be something to look forward to once he finally got out into the fresh air of the city in a couple of days. A little more surgery was apparently needed, to repair a few of the nerve endings that had been busted, but the main damage, to the nerves of his back and to his soul, would probably never be repaired.

    As Leon sat, he felt the words digging into his skull, impossible to forget, indelible words that if their promise was fulfilled, he would never be able to think about them without weeping uncontrollably. He'd heard Claire talking to the Doctor about it when he'd still been in intensive care. He'd also heard the news of Steve Burnside; a long-standing friend of Claire's and maybe had once upon a time been her lover. However, whatever existed between them wouldn't have come to fruition, even if it could have now; Steve was dead.

     In retrospect, Leon thought, he felt that Steve had got the better deal. A bitter tear of resentment and frustration formed at his tear-duct, and coursed its inevitable path down his cheek. Not at anybody in particular; maybe at the world, at the imbalance of justice and the unfairness of everything. He probably would have dwelt over the death of Steve, had he not been preoccupied with his own predicament. Jill, he'd heard, was alive; but the gunshots had done some mild damage to some of Jill's nerves, one had even been severed. He hadn't met Jill yet over her problem, as she too was still in hospital and was confined to her room as well as he. Leon wanted to talk to Jill desperately, not because he had any feelings for her exactly, but because he wanted to talk to somebody who could empathize with him.

     The words that had been spoken by that doctor echoed in his soul.

     Leon would have stood up and paced the room. He couldn't do that. He couldn't even lift himself out of the chair to stand on two legs. Leon S. Kennedy, who prided himself on his fitness and his physical ability in his new position in the STARS, was paralysed from the waist down. 

Leon may never walk again…

    He cast his mind back over what had gone wrong, what had caused his life to crack and crumble around him. They couldn't even blame Umbrella anymore. Umbrella was bust. The company had been brought down with a combination of legal action and surgical strikes; it had been a trial of Nuremberg proportions. Leon still recalled the triumph he felt when the executive committee of White Umbrella had finally been sentenced, and the U.S government had dismantled their corporation forcibly. The STARS had been elated. Finally, their nightmare was over.

   Heroes however, Leon thought, never get what they truly deserve. All he had wanted, along with the other STARS was to just live the rest of his life in peace. That raid had turned his world upside down. Him, Jill and Chris had gone in as part of the advance team, Claire as the backup with Barry supervising. It wasn't Barry's fault, though. The lack of intelligence had underestimated just how many terrorists would be in that warehouse. There were nine instead of five. One of the unaccounted terrorists had appeared out of nowhere, and sprayed assault rifle fire at Leon. As six bullets had thudded into his body, he heard Chris yelling above the pain, and saw the man himself fire back. There was a scream after exchange of gunfire, and Leon through his mask of agony watched Jill hit the ground, blood pooling around her as she gasped for life. It had looked bad…but she was all right now. They'd finished off the terrorists, but Jill and Leon had been rushed straight to hospital with the other wounded. None of the injuries had been too severe. Chris himself had got shot in the arm, but a bandage and a little surgery had solved that no problem. There'd been some cuts and bruises; Claire herself had a nasty scar on her upper forehead and lower arm. Leon was relieved that she was fine, it was probably the best thing that had come out of that mess of an operation. His friends were alive that was the main thing.

   Whether or not his spirit's determination to keep living was a good thing or not, he didn't know. He did have several ambitions, whose accomplishment was still in question. 

    The greatest of these was to have a family with the woman he adored…would Claire be interested though? Thankfully the damage had not actually destroyed any chance of him being a father, but…

   He loved Claire, but he'd never been able to ask her what she truly felt for him, if she could ever feel anything for him, particularly now that he was confined to a wheelchair. Could she love a man who was now dependent on others in a variety of ways? A man who had become one of the many people who could never walk again. All those times he took his ability to walk for granted, he wished that he hadn't. It was just one of those things, to be able to move like an athlete.

    It was at this moment he felt at his most miserable. What use did a paralysed cop have to the STARS now? He wasn't a tactician, he was a policeman who took orders and knew how to fire weapons. What scared him most was what would happen when he returned to active duty. Leon was not looking forward to a managerial decision about his future; they wouldn't let him go – it was bad P.R to let go of a Police officer because he was now 'incapacitated'.

   The door opened. He didn't turn simply because it took an ice age to turn his wheelchair around, and Claire, the person who had entered, knew this. She approached Leon timidly; her footfall cautious just in case Leon was asleep.

    "It's okay, I'm awake" he said, "You don't have to act like I'm infectious either."

   He bowed his head contritely.

   "Sorry, that was uncalled for"
 Claire stood in front of him, with a gentle smile on her beautiful, clear face. She tenderly put a hand on his shoulder.

  "It's okay, Leon. Don't worry. I'm sorry, I guess I just didn't think that you didn't want to be treated like an invalid."

   "Don't worry Claire, please…just don't…worry…" he managed, holding back the tears.

   Claire could see in his eyes that it hurt him. It had crippled him and his pride. Claire felt a swell of emotion to see what an injury had reduced such a fine man too. She felt guilty, looking at Leon confined to his sitting position that she'd got off so lightly. A couple of scars, which was it. That was it. She and others had cried at the death of Steve, they had mourned his death on the night of the raid. He had joined them of course, but his bravado had gotten the better of him.

     The funeral was going to be about five days after Leon and Jill got out of hospital, so everyone could go and pay their final respects. Claire leaned against Leon, and put her arms around him, leaning into his shoulder. He pressed one hand against her shoulder, and breathed her scent.

    "How're you, anyway?" he asked, forcing a smile onto his face.

    "I'm okay, couldn't sleep again last night" she replied, trying to smile cheerfully back. In a way however, her expression was real; she was overjoyed that Leon was alive, that her reason to hold on to happiness was still around and breathing, even if he couldn't move his legs. Such a relieved thought overwhelmed her again; she pressed herself against him, squeezing him tighter.

    "Get some pills from the doctor, Claire. You need to sleep, you look all in" Leon said concerned, as they disengaged from the embrace.

     Claire laughed inwardly. What irony, Leon was worried about her health when he was the one who wasn't even able to stand up.

     "I dunno" she kicked the carpet idly "Those things sent me funny last time, I don't think it'd be such a good idea if I took any…"

     "Claire, you need to sleep." Leon replied, firmly "Please, get some sleep. Go home."

    "Leon…" she shook her head "…I couldn't just leave you…and Jill here when you're both seriously injured."

     "Claire."

  He put a well-used but gentle hand on top of her soft hand.

    "There are a good couple of days to go until me and Jill get out of here. I'll get Chris to take you home himself if I have to."    

    She shook her head, lips crinkling to smile softly at him.

   "I'm going nowhere Leon."

Leon sighed, and squeezed her hand. He didn't want to think about his immediate future, it was not a part of his life he was going to relish.

    "Claire…I'm scared…" he whispered, "I know it sounds like I'm wimping out, but…I am…"

    She stroked his darkish bangs, putting her arm around him.

    "You'll be okay Leon. I'll make sure of it."

Auhtors Note: I know this isn't the story you were probs all expecting, but I wanted to write something that sizzles with emotion and pain. Maybe this has been done before, I don't know. This however, is mine. I want it to be intensely emotional, but please don't rail at me if it seems trivial J And I wanted to expand on the themes of hope, despair and life itself J. Hope u like it!