Welcome to 'Evangelion'. Here we have another Leon/Old Snake tribute, dedicated to the one and only Zephyr! This is meant to celebrate Resident Evil 5, which makes its US debut tomorrow! That adventure will inspire 'Tempest', the sequel to Leon and Snake's first journey. Please sit back, relax and enjoy! This tale will be a little gritty, though, so watch out!
Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Metal Gear Solid 4 or the Resident Evil series. I own a copy of MGS4, but I don't think that counts.
Warning: Boy/boy romance will be installed throughout this adventure. If you're uncomfortable with affectionate, intimate males, please steer clear. If you're not comfortable with Snake showing emotion, or if you're not thrilled with the thought of Snake being gay, I advise you to steer clear as well.
Fear consumed every bit of his existence. It was a voracious marauder, swallowing every bite of his life with sheer ecstasy. It crept around every corner, observing his every move. It never left him alone, fear, and he felt destined to remain with it. Even as the sun glistened high in the sky, fear held a strong vigil over him. It was the product of Hell, cold and pitiless even as he begged for mercy. It never left his body alone, creeping out of the nightmares that tormented him. It shook him, strangled him and crushed the remnants of his spirit. Every breath of fear was closely accompanied by pain, which was just as merciless. His body existed without rest, and so fear stained every waking moment.
As other souls slept peacefully, destined for serene mornings, he saw the nights as endless battles. He was triumphant whenever his eyes met daybreak, but his ephemeral victory was half-hearted. He always awakened with signs of turmoil, which were literally written all over his body. Inscriptions, brutal and unholy, ravaged his old frame. Words were carved into his body by a familiar pair of wicked hands, usually written in Latin. All of them were bloodied, pulsating with the ferocity of a million cobra bites. He wasn't knowledgeable about Latin, but there were inscriptions he could make out. The words 'die' and 'freak' were as clear as blue skies. Regardless of their language, though, the inscriptions always pushed him into tears. His nightmares had been bad enough. To come out with brands heightened the pain.
The nights were painful, to say the least. They always brought him unimaginable nightmares. He was always in an iron wall chamber, one fit for mental institutions. He didn't have the basic ability to produce speech or thought, for his mind was completely consumed by hellish fear. His body was not convulsive but spasmodic, awaiting the pain that was sure to come. It always came, carried in the arms of a snickering Liquid. Unimaginable frost crept over his naked body, elevating upon his brother's entrance. His only sibling held out a pair of knives, eyes glistening with feverish rapture. Fear rose to new heights, Liquid's snickers turned into laughter, and blades collided with flesh. Chains held him down, preventing him from taking action. Liquid never spoke. Laughter was sufficient, especially when it became shrill. Shrill and absolutely devilish.
He awakened in tears, wailing. Loved ones always rushed into the room, carrying embraces and indescribable love. Hal embraced him in sobs, fretting over the results of Liquid's actions. Sunny, always a surprising beacon of strength, did everything she could to keep her family calm. While she gathered comforting face cloths and bandages, Hal tried to pinpoint the existence of his friend's inscriptions. Why were they all over his body? If they were produced inside of nightmares, how could they remain with him? The nights were never easy.
There was another concerned soul in the house. His family received a third addition quite some time, and it was a perfect fit. Unfortunately, eruptions of love were met by equally fierce eruptions of pain. His body and spirit withered with each passing day, tormented by not only FOXDIE but Liquid. He edged closer to all three of his loved ones, forming a romantic bridge between himself and Leon, but time did him no favors. His body was under relentless pain, preventing him from enjoying life's gifts.
In addition to everything else, he hated his own heart. Clinging to Hal was bad enough, and dragging Sunny along was unforgivable. Attaching himself to Leon surpassed the boundaries of forgiveness on a thousand levels. While he was a wrinkled, dying flower, President Graham's officer was a pillar of unshakable beauty. He was impenetrable, strong, fearless and unbelievably beautiful. Heads turned whenever Leon went out in public. Cars sometimes ran into poles. Maidens and knights alike swooned. There was only one problem, though. Leon was always seen in public with him, a monkey that clearly didn't deserve him. Leon might have been doting towards him, but he abhorred the treatment. He might have been a defensive, fussy canine for loathing Leon's affection, but nothing could shift his scorn. And mirrors never did him any favors.
Leon loved him. Without a doubt, Leon loved him. Leon loved Hal as a brother, and adored Sunny. Leon loved him unconditionally, wildly and furiously. His exuberant passion was revealed in simple glances, smiles and pecks on the cheek. It was revealed through his gentle eyes, laughter and words. Just by taking his hand, Leon emitted passion normally found in dreams. Simple words gave off the same brilliant light. His affection towards a much older male grew within several weeks, but it seemed to grow in seconds. They were evidently destined to meet, finally brought together after years of absence.
But their love was in danger. Days always brought on the nights, and so they brought on reminders of Hell. They reminded him of how he would always suffer, even as happiness stood in the forms of Hal, Sunny and his beloved Leon. They reminded him of how ugly his body was. They reminded him of the words he always had to hide, on and off his body. Not only were there words inscribed on every limb, but there were words inscribed in his heart-and they were meant to remain hidden. He held them inside, choking on them as he suffocated under pain. He held them back, even as he fell to the bedroom floor. He said nothing, even as Hal discovered the spasmodic body of his dearest friend. He said nothing, even as a stretcher placed him inside of a foreign truck. Where was he going, he wondered? Would his words forever remain hidden, deep within a chest that could hardly move?
The doctors said a lot of things, but none of them were understood. It all boiled down to one simple fact: there wasn't much hope left. Hope was hanging by a thread, just as precious as pure water was to poverty stricken cities. It was precious water for those suffocating, lapping up any drop they could find. Three thirsty souls were in a waiting room, searching for more drops of hope-but able to find none. They were dehydrated, but doomed to live without cleansing hope.
Anticipation was never a thrill, especially when it placed one inside of a waiting room. It was never a fascinating element to hold onto, especially when its victims were thrown into a waiting room. A certain trio of individuals were cast into the room several hours ago, for a loved one fell into unstoppable seizures. Breathing stop, eyes dilated, blood coursed from an ebbing body-and chaos broke loose. Leon, Hal and Sunny soon found themselves in their temporary haven, awaiting water that would never arrive.
Silence toyed with them. It played with them, tore apart their insides, and laughed at their crushed spirits. It broke when Leon lifted his head, which he had lowered due to overwhelming exhaustion. His face was plagued by severe weariness, dragging his eyes into a world of bags. "I can't do this," he whispered, gripping the sides of his head. "I can't do this."
Hal lifted his head, his gentle features doused in pain. He presented his beloved friend with a smile, but its back was occupied by a beast of heartache. "I'm sorry," he said, shaking his head. "I'm so sorry, Leon. I know...I know you're busy, and-"
"That's not what I'm talking about! I don't give a damn about my job! I'm not talking about that! I can't sit here and wait any longer!"
Anger propelled him out of his seat. Nervousness propelled him to pace around. Hal and Sunny's eyes followed him, forlorn and fretful. Pain, gripping and fierce, engulfed Leon's eyes. It was limitless in its scope, pure and powerful. He spoke the truth, unconcerned with the duties that piled up on him. He was President Graham's prized officer, dearly missed by the entire force. However, those responsibilities weren't present in his heart's eyes. "I can't do this," he whispered, tears seizing his throat. "I can't sit here any more. I just can't. I love him too damn much, Hal. I can't do this."
The gentle otaku rose from his seat, ready to offer frail comfort. Before he could release even a syllable, Leon bolted away from his companions. Sunny popped out of her seat, wanting to catch a close look at Leon's intentions. She was soon swept into Hal's doting arms, eyes widened in hope. The Kennedy was truly uncomfortable with keeping himself still. He's coming, Epyon, a maiden thought happily, eyes glistening. She saw the grievous, frantic look on her surrogate father's face, giving him a comforting smile. Sunny was Hal's anchor-a much-needed anchor.
He's coming to see you! You're going to see your angel, Epyon!
"Piss off! Let me through!"
"Sir, we can't allow you through. The patient's resting!"
"Let me through, dammit! Let me through! I need to see him! Please!"
"That's not possible, sir. We've got to allow the patient restoration time! No outside interruptions are allowed!"
"If you want him to have the slightest chance at survival, you've got to leave him to us, sir!"
He fought against a barricade of doctors and nurses, tearful and enraged. They were determined to hold him back, adamant about upholding their duties. Minutes passed before they released their hold, though, hearts touched by what their eyes captured. What they saw was a man in love, desperate to reach his mate. He soon gained access to his mate's room, lead into the room by a pair of compassionate nurses. He accepted their kindness with profound appreciation, but was instantly heartbroken by their patient's condition. Tears erupted on sight, each drop overwhelmed by pain. Blood drained from his face, his heart came to a violent stop, and dizziness coursed through his bloodstream as an epidemic.
Dave...
Sadness grabbed him and broke him. The one he loved was shackled down, distant from reality. Tubes, sent from all possible directions, pierced his old skin. His eyes were closed, even as tears streamed down his wrinkled cheeks. Nearby monitors hummed with unstable activity, threatening to kill his happiness at any moment. Without wasting another second, he bolted to his loved one's side. A hand, soft and tender, gently ran over the older male's body. Waves of warm, heavenly comfort poured into his bloodstream, warmer than an angel's wings. Warmer than the milk that spilled from the heavens.
Tears fell from the Kennedy's eyes, glimmering with a love that would never end. The gentle rain water of love met the rain water of sorrow, uniting on a war hero's chest. Although two chests weren't against each other, two hearts pulsated simultaneously. A hand gripped the hand of an old legend, squeezing it with ceaseless, furious affection. The young officer spoke softly and sweetly, kissing him with every word.
"You don't have to open your eyes. Just let me love you."
Soft kisses fell onto a fragile body, each one heavy with the rosebuds of love. Whimpers rumbled within a chest as the kisses made contact, followed by the awakening of green eyes. Noticing that his lover's eyes had opened, Leon cupped his face. Kisses rained onto the older male's face, and a young officer proceeded to nuzzle an old beacon. Hands, frail yet ravenous, began to stroke the Kennedy's body. Happiness bloomed as a result, but it was weighed down by reality's wickedness. "Just let me love you," a warm voice whispered, eyes closing underneath sunlight. A body blushed as it came into contact with a much older frame, loving the contact of a familiar entity of perpetuity. "Just let me love you. You're the light of my life. My firefly when things become dark. If I can't love you, then...I'll..."
Lose myself.
Sobs overwhelmed him. He buried his face into Dave's chest, eyes racked with pain. Hands soon fell into his hair, their movements frail yet clearly affectionate, ripe with everlasting love. 'Don't cry,' gentle hands said. 'Don't cry. Please don't cry. I hate it when you're sad.'
'I hate it when you're in pain,' Leon's eyes said, stroking Dave's heart. 'I hate it when you're not happy. I hate it when you're hurting. I hate not being able to help you. You mean everything to me. I love you.'
"I can't tolerate this," a young officer sobbed, caressing the other's face. "I can't live through this. I can't stand seeing you like this...because I love you too much. I love you...so damn much..."
Releasing Dave's hand, Leon fell to his knees. Wailing, weeping, the Kennedy buried his face into his hands. A hand soon fell onto the top of his hand, creating a geyser of disbelief. Leon's eyes widened, and he soon lifted himself to see that Dave had risen. No longer was he lying down, sitting up with the warmest smile. Even as pain throttled him, he held a smile that transcended the stars, the galaxies, and memories.
It held love.
"I love you too, baby," were his only words. radiant with his heart's smile. He laid back down, eyes closed and mouthpiece returned. Leon gazed upon him, eyes widened in horror and tears pouring from his soul.
I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. You're my love. My one and only love.
My Snake. My Dave.
"It can't end like this. I won't let it end like this. I love you too damn much...to let it end like this. I won't let it end like this, Dave. I won't let you go."
I can't live without you. You're my air.
Hands were balled into fists, driven by determination. Fire split through the brown eyes of a soldier, luminous and eternal. Leon Scott Kennedy was endowed with a new mission, and even though it seemed impossible, he would see it through to the end. He would stop at nothing to complete it. He would stop for no one. He would stop for nothing.
He would find Dave's cure, no matter what.
Then, and only then, would he be free.
1) This was composed to 'Wandering Flame' of Final Fantasy X.
Happy RE5 Eve!
