Author's Note: I'm horrible. I know. Because it wasn't enough that I've broken Leon's heart over and over again, made him cry, and left him cold and alone, I'm now going to (MAYBE) kill him. In the original edition of this fic, he lived, but was paralyzed from the waist down. I hated it. The ending was horrible. Well, now, it's up to you to interpret whether he dies or not. Also, this is in no way related to any fiction I published before this, or that I will publish after this. In terms of timelines.

I heard this amazing song one night and I played it over and over till I couldn't bear to hear it anymore, and then I played it some more. And then a horrible thought came to my head: this is beautiful inspiration for killing Leon. I immediately hated myself for even thinking of it, but at that point, there was no turning back. It had to be done. I'M SO SORRY LEON ;_; I promise I'll work on making you happy next time D:

So, uh. The aforementioned inspirational song is called Comatose, by a project called Ayreon. There is a legitimate, musician intended story behind this song (as well as the entire album on which it is featured), which is completely different from what I'm doing here. I encourage you to look it up on youtube if you want to get an idea of the emotion I was looking to capture here. This is not a songfic, it was just inspired by a song.

I'd like to thank that guy in my art history class for the source of inspiration for this fic. I'll probably never speak to you, but thanks for being stupid and making all your facebook posts public, and thusly introducing me to this song. You could totally play Leon in a movie. OhgoodlordI'mdrooling.

DISCLAIMER: Resident Evil and all of the associated characters are property of Capcom. 'Comatose' is copyright to Ayreon. I do not profit from the writing of this fiction.

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Dead. Saddler was dead. The sovereign will of Las Plagas. Gone and obliterated.

My heart sang with joy. Ashley was safe. My mission was successful. The president would cry tears of joy when his daughter was safely in his arms once more. Everything was right with the world.

Well, almost everything.

The only thing not right with the world in this one moment was the two foot long slice of shrapnel embedded in my abdomen.

It happened so fast I didn't even feel it. In effort to eradicate me, Saddler's evolved Plaga hurled a steel I-beam at me. In my adrenaline rush, I managed to dodge it, but as it flew over my head, it struck a store of explosives on the rig. Though over 20 feet away, the explosion hurled huge chunks of shredded steel in all directions. It felt like someone punched me in the back, a sudden pressure that hit me with such force that my legs buckled. It didn't even register that anything was wrong. There was only one thing on my mind: kill Saddler, get Ashley home safe.

In the seconds before it hit me, I managed to fire a rocket straight past Saddler's defenses. His death was instantaneous.

It was too bad mine wouldn't be.

As I came down from my adrenaline high, the only thing I was able to feel was a strange radiating warmth down my back.

Adrenaline clouded my senses as I went into shock, panicking. My legs lay before me, tangled and lifeless, and yet somehow still attached to the rest of me. I focused all of my will into moving them, into at least wiggling a toe, but my efforts were in vain. The huge metal shard stuck out from my abdomen and my back, making it impossible for me to lay flat on the ground. Removing it wasn't an option, I would only bleed out faster and cause myself severe, unneeded pain. I could feel my lower body slumping, no longer supported by my newly severed spinal cord.

I stared up at the sky, wondering how long I had left. Fear of death and pain is what keeps us on our toes, ever mindful of safety and our surroundings. Fear itself was enough of a motivator for some people. But in my line of work, fear is hindering. Fear and the instinct for self-preservation can only slow down a man who is put in charge of protecting someone. I let go of fear long ago.

Now there was no need to let go of fear. My exterior crumbled as I realized I would not make it off this island alive. It wasn't supposed to end like this. I promised Ashley I would get her home. How was I going to get her home like this? I remembered she was still waiting by the platform elevator. I tried to call her name, but my voice was a feeble groan.

Death is something we all must face. Death makes us all equal. Even the greatest heroes are but corpses in the eyes of death. I accepted this fact long ago, but I made one mistake. 'I've got a long life ahead of me,' I had thought to myself. 'Don't have to worry about dying for a while,' I told myself. But here in this moment, I knew I wouldn't make it. I wasn't ready. Tears welled up in my eyes as I silently begged the powers that be to spare me, to fix this, to go back in time and make it so that this never happened. Anything at all, if it would save my life, to let me live to see Ashley home safely.

I struggled again to call Ashley. My voice failed me again. It was like one of those dreams where you're struggling to scream, to save your own ass. But you can't run fast enough, and you can't call for help because your voice is so quiet even though you're forcing all the air out of your lungs. Like a dream. Was this a dream? I touched my face, testing reality. I felt real enough. I reached for my rifle, barely within my reach. Pain shot through my torso as I struggled to reach it. I did my best to push it out of my mind. I had to signal Ashley. If my voice wouldn't work, I had to find another way.

I held myself as steady as I could as I loaded a round into the chamber and aimed at some of the framework above the elevator, squinting into the scope. I squeezed the trigger and my shot connected. The sound of the bullet connecting with steel echoed across the platform as I pulled open the chamber again and loaded another round. And another. After the fourth shot I heard the elevator hum to life. I closed my eyes and felt the tension leave my muscles, breathing a sigh of relief. Thank god Ashley was intelligent. Thank god I could still aim with a severed spinal cord.

I watched as Ashley timidly stepped off the elevator, looking around, cautious and confused. Her eyes scanned the platform, widening in horror as she saw me. The look on her face made me wince. Was it really that bad? I hadn't wanted her to see me, but I needed her to know. Needed her to know that I had eliminated the threat. Needed her to know that I failed her.

"Leon…" she whispered, kneeling beside me. "Oh god, Leon, we're gonna get you out of here. You're gonna be okay. I'll radio for a chopper or something, we're gonna get help…" Her voice quivered, on the verge of panic. She did her best to hide her fear, trying to be strong for me. Her tiny fingers dug around in the pockets of my vest for first aid supplies. She wasn't going to find any. I used them all to stave off the pain.

I released grip on my rifle and lifted my hand up to her, to let her know I was still with her, to tell her to stop searching. She grabbed it and clutched it close in her small, warm hands and held it to her face as silent tears welled up in the corners of her eyes. I tried my hardest to wipe them away. I couldn't bear to see her cry; it tore my heart right in two. How was she going to get out of here? I failed her. The longer I watched her cry, the harder it was to hold back my own tears.

I wanted to tell her how to get out of here on her own. But I didn't even know how we would have gotten out of here together. I wanted to tell her she would be okay, but I really had no idea if she could fend for herself. I wanted to tell her I was going to be okay. I wanted to tell her all that cheesy shit that people believe; like I'm going to a better place and that I'm going into the arms of God or something. But I didn't believe any of that myself. I wanted to say something.

"Ashley…" I whispered. Her name sounded more like unintelligible sounds as it left my throat. Her eyes squeezed shut and she sobbed. She gripped my hand tighter, hugging my entire forearm to her chest as her sorrow overcame her.

I really wanted to hug her. It's hard to hug someone when there's that much shrapnel sticking out of your stomach. I was starting to get lightheaded. I did my best to reach behind me and open my attaché case. As my hand touched the ground beneath me, I realized what the warm sensation was coming from. I was effectively lying in a pool of my own blood, which was soaking into my shirt and vest as it oozed slowly from the entry wound on my back. There wasn't anything I could do about it though. I finally found my communicator, struggling to pull it free from my belt.

The communicator was her last hope to get out of here. Hopefully, with Saddler and Salazar dead, she would be able to get through to Hunnigan and call for a chopper or something. My hand trembled slightly as I held the communicator out to her. It was hard to focus on anything at all; I was so dizzy, probably from blood loss. My heart ached with anxiety as I realized just how quickly I was going to leave this world. Ashley's face swam in my vision, blurry and distorted as I lay motionless, unable to muster up enough energy to move anything at all. I wanted to say goodbye, but my lungs refused to do anything but breathe, and even my breathing was labored.

She took the communicator from my hand as she gazed into my eyes, unfocused and staring up into the cloudy sky. In this moment, I figured there was no point in exerting effort to conceal my emotion. I figured I must look lost and afraid, but it was too much work to change my expression. I figured I had mere minutes left. I was going to die.

Ashley wasted no time in fiddling with the communicator, trying to get it to work. I wanted to help her, but I couldn't so much as move. The pain was beginning to return, a dull ache in my abdomen that grew stronger with each passing minute. I didn't care how much it hurt. I just wanted to live. I wished there was something I could do. If the only way to save my life at this point was inject myself with another plaga parasite, I would have done it. Or at least tried. At least I would have died trying.

I heard the communicator buzz to life. Hunnigan's voice came through immediately. "Leon! We've been trying to re-establish contact for hours now! What happened? Is Ashley okay?"

I strained my eyes to look at Ashley's tear-stained face. Her words were punctuated by sobs and sniffles. "This is Ashley Graham, Leon's been hit… we need backup… he's been severely…"

The effort was too much. It was hurting me just to focus on her face and my voice. My heart pounded in my ears, a deafening roar compared to Ashley's soft voice. I closed my eyes. My head was pounding from trying to focus my sight on something. I dimly registered feeling her hand on my chest. The rise and fall of my lungs was the only thing she had to verify I was still alive.

"Stay with me, Leon. Help is coming." Her pained voice was close, she was whispering in my ear. "We're gonna get you fixed up."

I didn't know how long it would be until the chopper arrived, but I knew it would be too late. I was so cold… I just wanted to live…

We live our whole lives knowing full well we're going to die. Some people say they're ready for it. Some people suffer so badly they want nothing more than to die. I still had something to live for, a mission to complete, a principle to uphold. I wasn't ready to go. Not now, not like this, not with the very girl I had sworn to the president I would protect. She would never be the same, not after experiencing this entire ordeal. And I had to go and make it worse by dying on her. At least she was going to make it home alive…

Tears streamed silently down my face and I felt something warm on my chest. Ashley was holding me, carefully avoiding my injury, her face buried in my neck as she did the best she could to get me to stop shivering. I was glad, at least, that I wasn't going to die alone. At least I had this kind, sweet girl to hold me. At least she was safe. She shuddered and sobbed, but she was going to live.

"Don't leave me, Leon…" she rasped, holding me close. "You're gonna be okay…"

I opened my eyes one last time, to take in the pleasures of sight one last time. I put used every last ounce of my strength to put my arm around her, and in the distance, I could just barely hear the sound of an approaching chopper.

I was so cold…

My thoughts became distant as my vision began to fade.

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Thank you for reading!