Beta read by: markofthemoros and DragonRiderSayomi (aka KageroAssassin - Tumblr)

Consultant: untranquilizing - Tumblr

Ok, so I just recently got INTO Resident Evil, so I am an expert by no means, but I'n trying my best with research and consultants on this, etc. XD Basically, I'm learning it all at once, so please bear with me. Things will be relatively vague for that reason. Hopefully later stories, I can get more detailed with the viruses.

Anyway, this may be a bit ambitious for my first RE fic, but hey, go big or go home, amiright? XD

Leon twisted his upper body slightly, just enough to avoid bumping into a passerby. He went with the flow of the river of people, reaching up to readjust his hood. A bead of sweat tickled the back of his neck as he tried to ignore the stifling heat. He knew it was supposed to be rather hot on this mission, but this? This was about pushing it. Turning in avoidance once more, he made sure his gaze never wandered from the figure mere yards away. And yet, despite the short distance, Leon found himself struggling not to lose sight.

"Dammit," he muttered just as his pursuit was hindered by the man making a sharp, unexpected turn.

He sped up, but not quite enough to draw any suspicion, but enough to become a little less wary of his surroundings as he brushed lightly against a person here and there. It's been nearly a week, and this was the closest thing he's gotten to a lead since. There wasn't a chance he was willing to let it slip through his fingers so easily.

And yet, there he now stood, facing an empty, dead ended alley. He huffed out a heavy breath and brushed a few damp strands from his forehead as a muttered 'great' escaped. Back now pressed against the stone building, Leon finally allowed himself to push the hood of his cloak back. He leaned his head back in order to get a look at the sky.

Perfect.

Another day ending and nothing to really show for it. He inwardly groaned, already knowing his supervisor wasn't exactly going to be pleased with his progress. A part of him was starting to wonder if there was anything to any of these rumors: reports of missing people and shady activity going on in the late hours. All of it was beginning to sound like a bit of a stretch, paranoia onset by these last several years. Now any word of anything out of the ordinary, and it was instantly somehow connected to Umbrella or viruses.

Leon scoffed and pushed himself away from the wall, replacing his hood before anyone could catch sight of him. Despite his blossoming doubts, every part of him still wanted to play it safe should he be recognized.

Another deep inhale, and with a slower pace, he began making his way back towards the inn, the place that had been his temporary 'home' for these past six or so days. Just thinking about sleeping on that poor excuse of a bed sent a small aching pang up his spine. Or perhaps that was from chasing so many shadows lately; it was difficult to be sure. All he cared about, though, was the fact that it wouldn't be too much longer before this mission was declared a flop and he'd be able to leave this godforsaken place.

He could only hope this possible last night here would be tolerable, but alas, upon his return, Leon found the lobby of the Inn rather packed. More so than the other nights. It was loud, more dense than the evening streets and the stench of alcohol burned his nostrils. There was nothing more he desired than to make a straight shot to his room. However, as chances would have it, something piqued his interest out of the corner of his eye.

He froze only for a split second before he pulled himself out of his momentary shock. Quickly, his back turned to the man seated in the corner of the room, he set himself at the bar and kept his head lowered. Occasionally, he let his eyes flicker to make sure the man was still there. Even without seeing any discernible features, he knew this was the same person he was following earlier. He had the same demeanor; the same air about him.

For the last few days, he's seen this same man stalking around the streets at night. And, like himself, this guy never allowed his identity to be seen. He traversed the town in secrecy. The man was looking around, his attention darting from the entrance, to the windows, and to various people seated nearby. Leon, unknowingly, held his breath, right hand curled into a loose fist on the bar's surface.

"What can I get ya?"

The question came so suddenly, it snapped the man out of his concentration, causing a small jolt to wrack his shoulders. Without a word, Leon raised a single hand. But, of course, that wasn't enough to do the trick.

With a light-hearted sigh, the bartender leaned forward, both palms flat against the wood. "Sorry, but these seats are for paying customers only. So, you're either going to have to buy a drink, or I'm going to have to ask you to move to one of the tables."

Letting out an annoyed exhale of his own, Leon shuffled hastily with his pockets and grabbed the first coins his hand came in contact with. Slapping it on the counter, he simply uttered, "Just whatever this can buy then."

Not a minute later, a glass was set next to his hand, containing only what he could assume was some sort of ale. It was hard to tell, all the smells in this place were starting to mix together. He pulled the glass closer and took a small sniff, and just as he expected, it reeked of cheap alcohol. If there were such a thing as below the shelf, he was sure this was it. Pressing his lips into a straight line for a mere second, he raised the glass to take a sip. Almost instantly, he wanted to spit it out; if it weren't for the fact that that would have brought tremendous amounts of attention his way, he definitely would have.

Fighting the urge to just completely reject everything about the beverage, Leon focused on the man in the corner as he took meager sips of the beverage. He wasn't even aware of how much he consumed until he felt a slight tingle in his fingertips. There only appeared to be about a fourth of the substance left, and still, the man hasn't moved, nor has anyone else arrived to join him. Perhaps he was right to begin with and this man had nothing to do with anything. Was he really suspecting this guy just because he was stalking around? He himself was doing the exact same thing, after all. Other than that, he had nothing to go on.

Shaking his head, Leon forced his shoulders to relax and gripped the glass. Cringing slightly, the man downed the rest and instantly got back to his feet, ready to just call it a night.

Mistake.

The moment he was upright, Leon blinked quickly, right hand reaching for the edge of the counter as the rim of his vision thickened; the fogginess crept slowly towards the center of his sight. How strong was that drink? It couldn't have been enough to have quite this extreme of an effect.

With a shaky breath, he found himself relying on his hold on the bar to keep himself steady. Ringing began to pierce through the white noise of the chattering and laughing until it nearly overthrew all other noise. The only thing louder were his own quickened breaths. He could feel eyes on him, barely able to make out a few hushed questions of concerns. Before he could say anything, there was a heavy hand on his shoulder. Leon cut his eyes over, and through hazed eyes, he made out the face of the bartender.

"Don't worry, it just appears he's had a bit too much to drink," the much larger man assured, flicking a glance to the 'drunk' man in question.

Leon wanted to protest, but his voice wouldn't cooperate. In fact, nothing seemed to want to listen to him anymore. The hand slinked around to his other side, and he realized with dread, that hold was likely the only thing keeping him up at this point. Against his will, his rapidly relaxing form leaned more heavily against the other man.

"I'll jus...ake him down...o his ro-om."

The agent's eyes widened as much as they could as the broken statement finally made sense in his head.

The tone of the man's voice, it came across as impatient in the agent's head. That and the pressure of his hold the bartender had on him - secure. Whether it was to make sure he remained upright or for some other reason, he couldn't discern. But in his slowly declining mind, it made little difference.

He was getting a gnawingly dreadful feeling in the pit of his stomach, and he was fairly sure it had nothing to do with whatever he just drank. He tried to pull away with whatever remaining strength he could muster, but all the accomplished was causing the hold on him to tighten.

"Easy th'ere," the brute of a man said almost playfully. The forced kindness in the tone made Leon's mind buzz. He hefted the intoxicated man up, slinging one arm over his shoulders. A second later, they were both moving. Well, one was moving while the other was practically being dragged. His vision faded in and out. Every time it cleared they were a couple feet from where he remembered. The fight for consciousness was quickly becoming a losing battle. In fact, he could no longer sense any feeling in his legs or arms. They were nothing but dead weight at this point.

However, the state of his limbs were the least of his worries when he noticed them headed in the opposite direction of his room. Every alarm bell was now ringing loud and clear, giving him just large enough of a burst of adrenaline to snatch himself away. But that was all it permitted him to do, for a moment later, his legs gave out and he was on the floor in a graceless heap. His chest ached with the speed at which his heart thumped while every other inch of him was numb.

Not even his growing panic was giving him what he needed in order to do the simplest task of standing up. All he could do was lie there and watch, like a slideshow, as the other stepped closer, crouched, and this time hefted Leon up before lying him over his shoulder.

"That's -nough…" More words were uttered, but they were lost to Leon. Every step jarred his now weary mind, disorienting him more and more by the second. Time was lost - hours and seconds seemed to be one of the same.

There was no telling in which direction they were headed in anymore. He was merely aware of the fact that they were indeed still moving. One thing he did realize though: it was colder, a hell of a lot colder. Chilled to the point where the numbness crumpled under the pressure. For the next immeasurable amount of time, Leon found himself completely drifting out of it, in and out until there were considerable gaps in his memory. He soon lost track of everything: where he was, what was happening, and seldomly, who he was.

Everything only came crashing back to him when he was unceremoniously tossed to the ground, where the air was knocked from his lungs violently. For the first time in a while, a sound escaped him, but it was nothing more than a pained groan.

With more effort than he would have cared for, Leon rolled to his side, and with it, the room did as well, twice over.

Room...his eyes darted around in an attempt to make sense of his surroundings. But, it was no use, nothing would focus; all he could see was gray and bright lights. Too bright for his overly sensitive eyes and his slowly creeping headache. Actually, now that he had a chance to lie there and let his senses catch back up, how whole body ached. His eyelids felt heavy. Honestly, it felt almost the same as a hangover. If he didn't know any better, he'd think that's exactly all it was.

He cut his eyes up when a shadow drifted over him - he almost forgot the other was there.

"You thought you could just come snooping around, did ya?" the man scoffed, folding his arms over his chest. "Did ya really think no one would notice a foreigner eyeing everyone and following people?" He chuckled lightly under his breath. "Damn government always has to stick their noses where it doesn't belong."

Leon tried to push himself up, but his arms still weren't responding well enough. As he fumbled back against the floor - the cold, and he now noticed, metallic floor - his vision danced with bursts of color. There wasn't the chance for him to get a proper look around, or even catch a glimpse at the other person he heard approaching. Beyond the echoing footsteps and a few muffled words being exchanged, his muddled mind could make out no more.

Everything felt weighed down, like lead encompassed his veins. His brow furrowed as remnants of his headache came back for seconds. His fingers twitched, itching to massage his temple. One tug of the limb and he was wide awake when the movement was restricted - or rather halted altogether. Metal lied beneath him, cold to the touch.

"Wha-" he gasped, voice hardly above a hushed whisper.

His eyes only managed to open a sliver before the intense light forced them back shut. Leon turned his head to the side, futilely trying to shield himself from the onslaught of rays. Jaw clenched, he squeezed his eyes tighter and tried his best to wait it out.

"Joined just in time."

Every fiber of his being tensed at the unfamiliar voice. It definitely wasn't the bartender from the previous night, and it sure as hell didn't belong to anyone else he remembered talking to while on this mission. He tried to swallow the growing lump in his throat and turned as much as he could to look in the direction of the voice.

His breath shuddered out as he caught sight of the man, elderly, hovering just a couple feet away.

"The hell are you?" he ground out. Despite the low volume, his words were enveloped in his obvious grogginess. He also hated the way he flinched the smallest amount when the man took a step closer. One bony, almost decrepit appearing hand rose to rest on the younger man's forehead. His mouth opened in question, but not a sound came out when his head was turned in the opposite direction, leaving his neck completely exposed.

For a moment, the elder said nothing, simply observed, his free hand pressing against different spots on Leon's neck.

"H-Hey, what are yo-" His breath hitched, a sting pricking his flesh.

His whole body froze up as the sensation dulled after a split second. He recognized this feeling, this light twinge - a syringe.

"The hell was that!?" he demanded the moment his head was released. Whatever it was, he could feel it; it itched and burned at the same time, slowly spreading from the place of entry. His breathing picked up pace as panic started to reintroduce itself.

"Fear will only make it worse," the older man said calmly - dryly. "Do not worry, there is no ill intent in what we do; this is all for the greater good."

Leon blinked in confusion as the burning intensified, now running down his right arm and down through his chest. He could feel his muscles tightening as whatever this injection was made contact. "What the fuck is this!?" he urged again, and his throat protested against the abuse. He pulled at his restraints - with no use. He felt it reach his fingertips and run down his spine. Everything was lighting on fire.

"I told you to stay calm. This is merely a watered down solution, a shadow of the real thing." He spoke softly, words so low they barely reached over the sounds of Leon's heavy breaths and occasional groan of discomfort. "It's not meant to change you...just teach the body to fight back. To create antibodies."

Ignoring his clear distress, Leon's eyes shot back open as he looked the man straight in the face. The other stared back, unblinking.

"Test subject?" Leon whispered, remembering the missing people. "Is that...is th-" his eyes snapped back shut as a wave of fire washed over him.

"That's right," the man went on, still unfazed by the distraught man before him. It was unsettling, the way he seemed almost bored. Leon wondered just how many people he has tried this stuff on. "A search for a vaccine, a universal one, one to combat any strain. Only way to do that...is exposure."

Then…

Leon's heart lurched with realization. Just what was he injected with, which one was he just given? His mind buzzed with questions, remembering each and every strain he came across over the years.

The older man finally took a seat next to the table and crossed his legs. "I'm sorry you had to be dragged into this, but you were getting too close. I'm sure you understand; something like this, it can't get out, not to anyone. No one would understand the importance of this work. And...we're so close. Our last...volunteer, he fought well, long and hard; it was nearly a success. But…" he trailed off, shaking his head as if he were talking about a lost pet.

"I guess some strains are just compatable with one another, coexisting well within the body. And it seems some people, they just can't handle that kind of hosting, so their body just gives in." He sighed wearily before turning his head back to Leon. "But you, you seem stronger than the last, both physically and mentally; my hopes for you are much higher."

Leon couldn't respond, he was afraid to open his mouth. Instead his teeth just clenched together, hard enough he feared the possibility of a tooth chipping. His fingers curled as he felt the sensation finally reach down to his ankles.

"As I said, there is no need to worry. Just stay calm, the worst of it will pass in due time. It might be a few minutes, or a few hours. It varies from person to person. But, it never takes more than a day. For now, all we can do is wait." With a small groan of his own, the man got back to his feet, and Leon could make out his light footsteps as he slowly walked away. "I'll be back in the morning to check on things. If my research and guesses are correct, you should be fine by then."

I'm a bit rusty since it's been a few months since I've written, so things should improve from here. XD