Here's another one for all you fabulous readers and reviewers. I love you all. I hope you're not getting too terribly tired of this, though if you were I suppose you wouldn't be reading. :)
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4. Scars

It's a miracle.

Leon leaned against the door that he had locked and bolted securely behind him, and let out a long sigh, reflecting on their fortunate situation. Ashley's happy words came back to him again.

It's a miracle.

A small smile flitted across his face. Even after everything they'd been through, even after all the horrors she'd seen and experience, she could still find such cheerful pleasure in such a simple thing.

Well, Leon had to admit to himself as he listen to the the spray of water behind the opaque green curtain, it was pretty nice.

It had been Ashley who'd found the room, having hidden in it while Leon disposed of some mace-wielding monks. She'd coming running up to him once the last of their dying screams had faded away, and announced delightedly that she'd found a room with a proper bathroom, and a shower.

Leon had followed her back down the hall, a little doubtful and a little worried that he might have to say something that would wipe the rare and beautiful smile from Ashley's face. However, once he'd thoroughly inspected the shower room and it's door, he'd been able to pronounce the whole thing secure and willingly let Ashley go first. The availability of hot water was questionable, and though he knew Ashley was content that there was water at all, as he was, he still wanted her to have the warmth, if it was there.

"I'm almost finished, Leon," the young woman's voice came floating out from behind the plastic green curtain that divided the showers from the rest of the plain stone room. She sounded almost unrecognizable, being momentarily unplagued by worry, disgust, or fear. "My god, does this feel good. They're got soap and everything!"

"Good," Leon called back, smiling again. This was a side to Ashley he'd seen only small flashes of-- the happy, carefree young woman who smiled and laughed easily. He was having difficulty quelling his protective instincts-- having Ashley out of sight, even just behind a curtain across the room, always caused a little nervous fluttering in his stomach, but a different sort of fluttering was starting as Ashley let out a final, happy sigh, and switched off the water. It took him a moment, where he silently passed a towel to Ashley and she made little noises of exclamation over how clean it was, to realize that he was feeling tentatively happy.

"Okay, I'm coming out,"Ashley said, and threw back the curtain, looking far different than Leon had ever seen her look before. She was wearing nothing but a white towel wrapped snugly around her curvy figure. Her short hair stuck to her neck and shoulders in wet tendrils and her peachy skin seeming to glow, but whether that was from the absence of the layers of dirt it had borne before or from the expression of contentment she wore, Leon didn't know.

"I put your clothes over there," Leon said, gesturing to the table where Ashley's skirt, top, sweater, and boots lay. He'd chivalrously wrapped her under garments in her skirt, so Ashley could pretend he hadn't seen them if she wanted. "So they didn't get wet, you know. You can change while I shower--"

Ashley glanced over at the pile of clothes and wrinkled her nose. "I don't want to put those on ever again," she said with distaste. "It seems even worse now that I'm clean."

"Well. . ." Leon felt a involuntary blush creeping into cheeks at the thought of Ashley running about the castle in nothing but a towel. Not for the first time, he silently cursed his fair skin. "I'll just go quickly then--" He moved towards the shower, but Ashley stopped him by putting a hand on his arm.

"Leon," she said, and gave short little laugh. Leon thought it was one of the most beautiful sounds he'd ever heard. "You can't shower with all your gear on. You'll ruin it. Here--" She took another step closer to him, reaching up to begin working on the buckle near his shoulder. He could smell the citrus soap she'd used, and he was disconcerted by not only her proximity, but the proximity of all her bare skin as well.

"Ashley. . ."

"You do the belt and I'll get these," Ashley chirped, still pulling at his shoulder holsters, apparently oblivious to the awkwardness she was causing Leon. "And then I'll turn around and shut my eyes and you can take your shirt off--" Leon shivered involuntarily as her hands slid down his back. "--and your pants and your. . . and I'll put them with my stuff."

Leon didn't know how to object to this, or really any legitimate reason why he should, so he let Ashley fumble with the buckles of his worn leather holster while he removed the rest of his guns and his belt. After finally managing to undo all the clasps, Ashley slid the holsters off his arms, then carried it with Leon's other items to the table where her clothes lay.

She kept her back to him and trilled "I'm closing my eyes!"

Smiling slightly at the unfamiliar brightness in her voice and the way she dramatically clapped her hands over her face, Leon removed his pants and shirt, and-- with a nervous half-glance towards his towel-clad companion-- his underwear. He quickly folded it all into a neat little pile then stepped into the shower and cranked the water on full blast.

"All clear," he called to Ashley, trying to suppress what would surely have been an undignified groan at the blissful feel of the warm water on his skin. He ran his fingers through his hair, grimacing at the sticky yet dry feel of the dirty strands. It had been way too long since he'd been decently clean. He hadn't seen a bottle of shampoo in ages. Speaking of that--

"Which one is the shampoo?" Leon called out in Ashley's general direction. "There's a little blue one, but there's also--" His ramblings were cut short by the high pitched scream that echoed about the room behind the green curtain. He tore it aside and leapt out of the shower, cursing his lack of weapons and his nakedness but nonetheless prepared to face whatever evil now threatened his charge.

There was none, at least that he could see. The room was empty except for a very pink-faced Ashley standing in the middle of the room, clutching her towel and looking anywhere but at Leon.

Feeling his own face heat up, he hurriedly grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist, asking not without some irritation, "What happened?"

"Nothing," Ashley said sheepishly. "I mean-- there was a mouse."

"A mouse," Leon repeated dully. His adrenaline from the fear of Ashley being hurt was draining rapidly away to be replaced by a nagging sense of embarrassment.

"Yes," Ashley replied, still not looking at him. "Or a rat. It was big. It ran across the floor, right by my foot and it startled me. . ." She glanced up at last through partially dried bangs. "Sorry. I didn't mean to--" She broke off with a gasp, staring at Leon.

"What is it?" Leon asked, feeling more than a little self-conscious at the way Ashley's eyes were raking his torso.

"Your chest," Ashley breathed. It did not sound like a compliment. "Are those all scars?"

Leon glanced down as his chest. "Um," he said. "I guess you could call them that."

"Where did you get them?" Ashley took a step towards him, her brow furrowed and her hands clenched on the top of her towel. "Surely not here?"

"No," Leon said, and couldn't resist the hint of a smile at her innocent naivety, displayed clearly by the question. "Any wounds I've gotten here wouldn't be scars yet-- they'd still just be wounds." He pointed to a long scratch on his shoulder, a bruise on his ribs, a burn on his forearm.

"But then. . ." Ashley's face was still creased with worry and a slight trace of fear-- regrettably her two most common emotions, as well as the ones Leon least liked seeing her experience. Knowing it was he himself who had caused them during one of the only times in this whole mess when Ashley had been happy and safe made Leon feel terribly guilty and rather angry. "Where did they all come from?" Ashley continued. "That other city?"

"Raccoon City," Leon supplied, unable to keep a flat smack of bitterness from his voice. "Yes, though one or two came from other missions and training exercises."

Ashley was quite close now, and reached out a long pale finger to gently trace a few of the old wounds that decorated his whole body, though Ashley was thankfully focussed on only his chest; puckered lines in various shades of purple or brown, small indents of abstract shapes, pale or darkened patches where no hair grew.

The feeling of the young woman touching him in so intimate of a way, especially when they were both only wearing towels over their naked bodies, was a little too much for Leon. Trying to ignore the fact the he was trembling again, he concentrated on Ashley's luminous amber eyes.

"Do they hurt?" Ashley asked quietly, expanding her curious, hesitant touching from one-fingered to full-palmed over one of the larger patches of dark skin that covered a spot just below Leon's right shoulder.

"No." Leon put his hand over hers, halting any further movement on it's part. He'd done it in a vague idea to stop the situation from becoming any more personal and private, and to control his accelerating heartbeat and breathing, but it seemed to do just the opposite. "The physical ones don't hurt at all."

He knew by the way Ashley's wide and over bright eyes flicked up to his meet his own that she understood his meaning implicitly. It wasn't the physical scars that hurt, that kept you awake in the night with fear-soaked dreams and twisted flashbacks, or twinged for years after they occurred with painfully clear reflection.

Ashley licked her lips, clearly struggling to speak. "Do they. . ." she managed. "Do they ever go away?"

Leon took a deep breath, his chest moving under Ashley's cool, dry hand that rested on one of the scars that had no place in Ashley's question. He knew exactly what she was asking, but he had no idea how to answer. Ashley was wondering the same thing Leon had wondered those many years ago, the thing he and Claire had discussed during so many sleepless night, the thing they had feared most for Sherry after the nightmare of Raccoon City was over.

Ashley was afraid of her fear. She knew it's cold, clinging embrace like that of a lover, and she was terrified of it. With her large, liquid eyes and slightly parted lips, she was begging Leon to tell her that she'd be able to get free of that embrace, begging him to assure her that the depths of frigid darkness where she could feel it dragging her did not exist.

"Ashley. . ." Leon wanted to comfort her, wanted to wipe that look of resigned sadness from her face for once and for all. He wanted her to be that happy, carefree young woman he'd seen so briefly when they'd first come into this room. He wanted to tell her everything she wanted to hear.

He opened his mouth. The words wouldn't come.

How could he tell her what wasn't true? How could he promise her a life free from fear and pain when it was such a lie? A lie like cellophane over the dark truth of reality-- it looks nice in covering up the truth, but is ultimately pretty insubstantial and easy to tear off. He couldn't tell her such a lie. But he couldn't tell her the truth.

The nightmares, the whiskey, the meaningless sex with the people who's names and faces he could usually never remember-- Leon didn't want Ashley to know about any of it, and he certainly didn't want her to experience any of it.

He had pretty much become a vegetarian after Raccoon City; he could only manage meat as long as it was in something like bacon bits in salad or ground beef in spaghetti sauce, but he couldn't stomach it on it's own. He still remembered the day he'd been walking with Mike, a fellow police officer and friend, and they'd passed a small hamburger place. Mike had declared that it was the best burger place in the city and that Leon just had to try one. Leon had relented, but instantly regretted it when one bite of the thick, juicy beef had him vomiting in the street, then stumbling home to spend three days in bed, sick and shaking and fighting against the tide of insanity that raged inside his head and nearly drowned him with his own thoughts.

Leon didn't want Ashley's life to be like that, one spasmodic episode after another. She didn't deserve to be a part of this whole thing in the first place and she definitely didn't deserve to suffer for it after it was over. If it was ever over.

That was another thing Leon couldn't stand to say to Ashley, something even worse than the mental scarring or lifelong self-torment. The possibility that they might not even make out of here alive seemed far worse than anything else, though Leon was sure there were times when Ashley eyed his gun with an interest that was more than a little morbid.

"Leon," Ashley breathed. There were tears in her eyes. Her other hand had somehow come to be resting near his elbow. "Leon, I. . ." Again, she struggled with her words. He wanted to give her the comfort she deserved, wanted to erase the pain. The words still wouldn't come, but he wanted. . .

Ashley took a step closer to him, trying again to speak, her large amber eyes wide windows to the fragile glass beauty of her soul. It was suddenly all too much for Leon. The calm oasis of the shower room, the exposed need of the woman in front of him, the exposed skin of the woman in front of him-- it was all just too much.

Letting out a sound half between a growl and a groan, Leon abruptly closed the distance between himself and Ashley and wrapped his arms around her, splaying his hands on her back and pressing her against his bare, scarred chest. Her hand moved from one shoulder to the other as she wrapped her arm around his neck, her other hand sliding up his arm.

Leon tightened his grip on her, reveling in the feel of her soft, warm curves. Ashley did not seem to mind as she snuggled herself securely in Leon's hold, chin on his shoulder as her hand moved to his damp hair. Leon pressed his face to Ashley's neck, breathing in deeply, trying to absorb as much of her essence as he could. She was clean and he was dirty and he knew he should get back to the shower while he had the chance, but he couldn't move. She was pure and he was tainted; he had no right to be touching her but he didn't want to stop. She was his charge and he was her rescuer, but it didn't change the fact that he felt far more content holding her here than he had felt in a long time.

Ashley tilted her head back as Leon nuzzled her neck, then slid his check against hers as he pulled slightly away, seeking her lips. Her eyes were shut and those full lips were parted. She'd never looked more beautiful. Leon leaned in, his own eyes closing. . .

The bang of metal on wood sounded like an explosion in the quiet shower room. Leon and Ashley, their lips just centimeters apart, broke hurriedly away from each other. Leon dove for his weapons as Ashley fell back towards the wall, both of them staring at the room's barred door.

The faint clinking of metal chains and deep, rhythmic chanting signified the presence of the catatonic priests in the hallway outside. It seemed the mace that hit the door (at least that's what it had sounded like) had been nothing more than an accident, and the priests were moving on, chanting muere, muere in time with their shuffling footsteps.

Silence roared in the shower room. Neither Ashley nor Leon could look at one another.

"You should get back to your shower," Ashley whispered at last. All emotion was gone from her voice, and her eyes had adopted the blank look they got when they were surrounded by death and danger.

"Yeah," Leon said, finding it hard to speak around a sudden lump in his throat. "Yeah. I'll go quick. If anything happens--"

"I know." Ashley flashed him a smile, but it was nearly as flat and dead as her voice. She put her hands over her eyes so Leon could remove his towel and resume his place in the shower. All her earlier playfulness was gone. The sudden shock of the priests had slammed them both painfully back into reality. They were in a life or death situation-- they had no time for anything but survival.

When Leon emerged from the shower Ashley was dressed once again in her ragged clothing. She handed Leon his own without speaking, then turned away in equal silence while he dressed. She offered no help with his holsters or equipment, but once he had everything situated she moved forward and took his hand. A fresh contingent of monks were making their way past the room, also chanting mindlessly. Leon and Ashley waited patiently for them to pass.

"What were they saying?" Ashley asked after the last chants had died away. She'd taken French in school, she had told Leon before, and knew absolutely no Spanish. He didn't know much more than her, but he did know muere. In their situation, that word was all too relevant. Ashley was looking up at him, trust and concern warming her previously cold and blank eyes. "Leon?"

"I don't know," he told her, holding that small pale hand just a little tighter in his own. "Probably some ritual chant that doesn't mean anything."

"Yeah," Ashley agreed, sounding like the young girl Leon kept forgetting she was. "That's probably it." She looked up at Leon again and he managed a smile, though he was sure it was as lifeless as the one she'd given him. Then, one hand holding his gun and the other holding Ashley, he led the way out of their brief haven of safety and security into the dark danger of the unknown, keeping an ear out for any sound of the priests or their chants.

Muere, muere.

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A/N:
I, like Leon, am a partial vegetarian. I do not eat hamburgers either. Just in case anyone was wondering. Review please, if you'd like.