Hey guys~ It's me again. /shot.

xD Okay okay. Sorry for the lack of updates on all my other stories. But I couldn't help myself! I got RE6 for my PS3 Wedensday, and I've been sucked in ever since. Not to mention my muse has been lagging in the other stories. But somehow said muse thought it would be funny to give me a huge plotbunny and this is what came out. Curse you muse. Curse. You.

Okay so yes this is a self-insert. And just to let you guys know I hardly EVER do them. I don't prefer them at all. But I thought about trying it. So yeah. And it's also in first person. Which is going to be seriously hard, because I usually write in third. So sorry if it seems...i don't know nasty? Is that the right word?

Quickly, I'd like to say that yes i've beaten Leon's campaign, but I don't remember much. So super sorry for any inaccuracy! I'm waiting for people to start doing Let's Play's on YT and to start the campaign again myself. Also! Before you guys start reviewing this story saying "Eww SI's suckk~ You suck~" or "SI/OC SEEMS SO MARY-SUE~ EWWW" like...chill. Give it a chance. SI Me isn't going to be Mary-sue. At ALL. Or at least I'll try to keep from it. And I'd like it if you guys didn't say this sucked because I'm actually writing this purely for fun. So there will be lots of haha funny moments. Hopefully. No need to say it sucks, because I probably will agree with you most the time. xD

And it will be pretty gore-y and detailed as much as I can get it. So if anyone is like...super weak stomached or sensitive I'm warning you. I'll try not to make it too bad!

Rating will probably change to M later. I don't know. We'll see.

Sorry for the length-y A/N xD! JUST READ THE PROLOGUE~ Chapter One is finished and should be up soon!

disclaimer: i do not own RE or Leon or Helena. i only own the SI/OC and anyone else that happens to pop up that aren't in the main storyline/game. ENJOY!

prologue.

Gasping for breath, I tried to move, but my legs gave away every time I tried. Opening my eyes, I met the sight of blur; a bright red color I could only assume was fire the only thing I could really make out. I coughed, not sure how, because it was still so hard to breathe. The smell of blood and the remnants of that dark blue haze that had swept through these streets hours before flooded into my nose. I was immediately hit with the memory of all the blood I'd smelt the day before in Tall Oaks. I winced. Didn't want to remember that. Didn't really want to remember any of this bullshit. I was still reeling from it all, not sure how I'd gotten myself into it.

Stomach churning, I held back the urge to vomit and waited a couple more seconds before I managed to push myself up onto all fours. A hand, warm and somehow comforting in this hell, wrapped around my exposed forearm. Glancing up, vision a little better; I locked eyes with those vivid gray-blue eyes. Those gray-blue eyes that had seen all this hell, experience all this hell with me, and then some.

"Can you stand?" he asked, with that deep, now scratch-y voice.

I nodded, even though I was sure it'd be hard. I couldn't exactly feel my legs, the bone shattering impact to the car hood after effects still shaking through me. I'd manage however. There was no doubt in my somehow still sane mind.

With a grin—how he'd pulled that off I wasn't sure, this man had been surprising me quite a lot recently— he stood, and I did the same. That's when I noticed the preying dead around us, and the woman my male counterpart was helping. Helena, I recognized. She wasn't looking very good at all. Summoning up my courage, I reached down to my holster and pulled out my .40 caliber handgun. I checked the clip, noticed I wasn't completely empty thank god, and slipped it back into the gun and readied myself.

Looking back at the man, I locked eyes with him yet again. "We should keep moving, Leon," I told him. My eyes drifted to the closing in enemies wearily. We were in a really bad position, which was really funny and stupid to say, because honestly it seemed like we always were now-a-days.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Leon nod. "This way," he said, and started moving, supporting the barely coherent Helena. I followed, slow steps, eyes on those foes, and my hand tight around the handgun I aimed at the ground. They were slow, but I knew if I underestimated them, they wouldn't hesitate. I'd learned the hard way.

Maneuvering under the debris through the alleyway, I heard Leon and Helena fall to the ground, no thanks to the weak support of the wooden board they'd stepped on. I hurried to their side, helping Leon up—my hand may have stayed a little too long on his forearm, but hey who knows—and then helping him with Helena.

Cautiously leading now, I guided them through a door into a small, safe looking area, with an army hummer taking up most the space, where Leon thought it best to rest.

"Just leave me," I heard Helena murmur, and gritted my teeth.

Quickly, I turned to her, and shook my head, cutting Leon off from his own refusal. "What are you talking about, Helena? We're not giving up! You're not giving up! We've come too far to. Don't even ask that. Don't even ask that again!" My voice cracked and broke, I knew it. My body was shaking, trembling. I forced back those tears that had spilt too many times on this hell of a journey. I wasn't going to cry anymore.

Leon's eyes burned through me, but I didn't meet his gaze, feeling weak all of a sudden, my eyes planted firmly on my dirt caked boots.

The woman grunted, before smiling weakly. "You're right, Nikki. I'm sorry—" visible pain shot through Helena's body, and I hurried to her side with no second thoughts. She was badly injured and in need of medical attention.

Ingrid Hunnigan called at that exact moment, and Leon talked to her, telling her everything and then stating Helena needed medicine. After some more words, he hung up, and then started looking for some herbs, but not before looking to me, and I yet again refused to look at him back.

I heard glass shatter behind me, and realized he might have found something in the army hummer. I turned, just as Leon was unlocking the door and opening it.

And out fell the dead body of the male army man.

To which began to twitch, and then stand.

My blood boiled and my heart faltered, as Leon began to back up. I started to stand, gun cocked, ready to fire one of my remaining rounds—

Oh shit. I'm getting ahead of myself. Excuse me. How about we start off at the beginning? All the way back to that fateful night in that Ivy University office June twenty-ninth, twenty-thirteen.

All the way back to me, Nicole Butler, a harmless—maybe stretching the truth there—freelance journalist, witnessing Leon S. Kennedy, an operative of the Division of Security Operations, shoot Adam Benford, the President of the United States.

Adam Benford, my practically-Uncle.

fyi, practically-uncle doesn't mean they're blood-related. it basically just means she considers him an uncle due to family issues and such. may be stating the obvious sorry xD

review and such! thanks for reading! chapter one is on its way soon~