Author's Note: An experiment

Genre: Angst/Horror
Rating: T
Characters: Leon, Ashley
Summary: Sometimes you just have to stop for a break, no matter what's going on.

Taking a Breather
By: Mazzie May

It was cold, he was wet and Ashley wouldn't shut up. The run from the church through the underground straight into a group of villagers had been anything but pleasant. He managed to drag Ashley up what he could only assume was a watchtower and keep her up there long enough to handle the ridiculous crowd.

It was unfortunate--unfortunate in the same way the Spencer Estate was unfortunate; no one deserved it, even if it was by their own hand. Still, the will to succeed, to survive beat out the sympathy every time he rose his gun and let the laser sight search over the slack faces and pull the trigger, the bullets smacking into their skulls, exploding out the back. Headshots always made Leon nervous; they dropped the carries quickly—unless their plagas was fairly developed. Every time he'd have to search the spray of blood and brain and skull fragments for any trace of tentacles.

He swallowed a little, raising his hand signaling Ashley to not follow him. If the plagas was going to make an appearance, amongst the explosion of brain matter and blood there was usually a sick yellow, syrupy liquid. But it was dark and damn hard to see. Flash grenades seemed to help, but—

Ashley hissed his name. He turned around and she repeated it. "I can't see you," she whispered loudly. "Where are you going?"

He sighed in irritation, but it wasn't with her. If it was up to him, he'd sit her in a room on the second floor with a door or on a roof or something, give himself some time to clear a path, secure some kind of an exit.

But it's not up to me is it? He moved closer to her and reached out his hand. You can't just put her behind a door because they can open doors and if she was on a roof they could use ladders. They're not zombies. As she reached out and took his hand, he felt so bad for her. Even though only his fingers were exposed, he could feel that her hand was just as wet as his was, her skin starting to prune a little and he felt her shaking. Hardly from being cold, he was sure. Leon never thought he'd ever want to be back in Raccoon again, and certainly not so badly. In Raccoon there were rules, limitations and he had the upper hand. The unsure, afraid feeling that eventually left him in Raccoon wasn't showing any signs of letting up here.

In fact, nearly every building he stepped into, every bizarre, unnatural obstacle he over came only filled him with more dread. He had a hard enough time keeping himself alive, now there was Ashley, how were they going to make it through this…?

He shook his head and faced around, leading her in the direction he thought they needed to be going. Later. You can think about all of that later. Getting scared won't help you, and it sure as hell won't help her.

Leon looked back at her, the flashlight on his belt just barely giving enough light to light up her face. Despite the dark, he could see the stressful lines on her face, the worry around her eyes, but what really caught him was the determination in her eyes. The need to make it through this no matter was there, a fearful, steely gaze that took him hours to develop deep within the police station.

He squeezed her hand a little and she nodded, saying, "Okay."

He didn't pull away first just in case she needed the support. She probably did, but she pulled away anyway. Good girl, he thought, moving far enough a head of her so that if anymore of the psychotic people came running at them, she'd have time to get away if something happened to him. God fucking forbid. It's not like they wouldn't catch her, anyway. Where do you hide in the brush with a pink top and a green skirt?

They moved slowly up the hill at first but eventually Leon decided to screw it; these people were people, they saw and heard just like a normal person. Unlike zombies, they wouldn't be fooled by tip toeing around and wide hand gestures. Goddammit, was it wrong that he missed Raccoon?

With longer legs, he got a little bit farther in front of her. The ground was wet and before he knew it, the dirt moved and he was on his hands and knees. Thankfully, Ashley froze where she was the minute he cried out.

"Leon?" He rolled over, sitting, looking up and watching her reach out widely, swinging her arms in front of her. He brushed the mud off the lenses, allowing the light to cut through the dark mist.

"Fine, I'm fine. Watch it, though," he pushed himself up, wiping his hands on his pants, looking for his gun. "Dirt's loose." The white beam passed over the firearm as Ashley began to walk towards him. He bent down to pick it up and the dirt slid again, backwards this time, and—

CLANK! Both of them cried out as the large metal snapped together in a loud and rusty squeal. Leon had flipped over, sort of crab jumping away as Ashley stumbled back, the uneasy land sending her down the incline.

Leon was up on his feet, aiming his gun, calling to Ashley, looking for whatever the hell could've possibly made that noise.

"Jesus H Christ." His belt light found the source. A rusty bear trap. All muddy, Ashley crawled into his vision, but he quickly held up his hand and she stopped. "Get up, but don't go anywhere," he warned. She swallowed doing what she was told.

A quick look around and behind him revealed six, no seven traps. Letting out a shaky breath, he looked down at the one at his feet. The thing was easily three feet wide opened, the rusty, bloody jaws wedging together and just looking at it made his leg hurt. Could break a bone in an instant, sever the leg maybe, he mused. God, if he'd fallen into that, or if Ashley had been one step closer… Well, they'd need a tetanus shot, on top of everything else.

He shook his head, trying to get it together. No point in worrying about it now. He unhooked the light and holstered his gun, reaching out to her again. "Alright, Ashley. You have to follow me very closely, okay? I mean, very." It took her a second, but she finally drew her eyes away from the closed trap and took his hand.

It was a slow maneuvering process, but they got out unscathed and without setting off anymore traps. After a couple of nail biting seconds, Leon hoisted Ashley up and she climbed over the large doors, unbarring them. He pushed them open quickly, knowing that the huge wooden and metal things would make a lot of noise and just not caring.

They leaned against the large doors for a little while, just taking the time to get their breathing under control, the cold air feeling good inside their tight chests. They needed to get to the spot that Hunnigan mentioned to rendezvous with the helicopter, but Leon didn't really give a rat's at that moment. If they were a few minutes behind, that was just too Goddamn bad.

She looked at him, as if feeling the weight of time. He shrugged, exhaling. "Just, taking a breather."

Leon looked around, remembering the layout of the yard from early in the day. Up the small path and to the left were a shed and a well and past that? A fence, a barn, another shed… the house was to the right, directly in front of them. He brought both his hands up and pushed his hair back. The mist in the air was cool and kept them both moist and his hair slowly feel forward in small clumps.

Leon was thankful he had his wet suit on beneath his jeans. The dip in the lake and the semi-panic sprint through the rain had left him soaked, the early morning October temperature frosting his hair. The suit kept him from getting hypothermia, but that was just him. He glanced at Ashley.

She was in a no sleeved sweater with a short skirt. If he didn't get her inside somewhere dry soon or the chill would get to her. He thought about the sweater tied around her shoulders, but quickly squashed that idea. It was for fashion at best, and probably wouldn't fit her. He wished he hadn't lost his jacket. The only thing he could do to keep her warm was to keep her moving.

He pushed away from the wall and though it wasn't immediate, Ashley followed. Leon gave her the best smile he could muster, even though he wasn't feeling it at all. He could only front so much courage. She either couldn't tell it was a fake or thought the gesture was nice as she sighed and shrugged a little, looking just a bit more hopeful. That determination was still there, though, he could see.

Making a gesture with his gun, he began to move towards the farmhouse with her jogging closely behind.

Author's Note: Someone asked me if anyone had written a novelization of Resident Evil four. I told her them that if it had been done, I hadn't seen it. They then suggested I do it. Sounds like fun, but I get bored easy. They begged a little, so I typed this up, showing them how I'd write up this part of the game, make it a little more 'real', I think. I hope I did it alright. You all let me know!

R&R please, any commentary appreciated.