Disclaimer: I own nothing
Chris hated wearing suits. They were hot as all hell, he couldn't move in them, and any decent one would cost a small fortune. But the reason he despised above all else was that he only ever wore them at a funeral.
"I'm sorry, Piers…" he whispered to the marble headstone. "I'm sorry that I wasn't who you thought I was. I'm sorry that I couldn't be the hero that—" He dried his misty eyes, cleared his clouded mind, and continued. "I'm sorry I couldn't be the person that got everyone out. You, Finn, everyone… I'm sorry that this is where you ended up."
A gentle breeze passed through the Arlington National Cemetery. Leaves rustled, birds sang in their nests, and life itself passed through territory reserved for death.
The service was tragic. Chris wasn't nearly as stoic as people believed him to be. The BSAA veteran had shed many tears throughout the funeral, his guilt only amplified at the cries of Piers' family. His mother, in particular, howled so loudly that Chris himself nearly broke down. The pain he had caused by not being good enough, the loss of life from his incompetence—he wasn't spared from it.
"If I could just—"
Leaves cracked from behind and he turned, ripped away from his thoughts.
"Leon?"
Sure enough, the DSO agent was standing right behind him, dressed in an all black suit that looked like it was made from pure shadow.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, having expected to not see the agent for months, if not years. The two had met a grand total of four times, and one of them was in China, only a few weeks ago.
Leon breathed in deep, his brow furrowed and stern. "I'm here to give you something, Chris."
The survivor of the Spencer Mansion eyed the Raccoon survivor with a puzzled countenance. "Give me something?" he said back. "Look, I don't mean to be rude, but I'm—"
"—It's not something that can wait," Leon said, stepping forward and staring down the BSAA operative. "I know what you're feeling right now. I've been through it. We've all been through it. And that's why I'm about to give you the one thing that men like you and me never get."
"Leon, save the sales pitch and just get to your damn point!" Chris snapped, just keeping his voice under a shout.
Leon presented Chris with his open and empty palm, never moving his gaze from Chris' eyes. "I'm giving you my blessing."
Chris looked between the empty hand and Leon several times before shaking his head in confusion. "What the hell are you talking about?"
Leon retracted his hand, placing it back in his pocket and took a step forward, forcing Chris back by the same length. "You've done enough, Chris. You've bled, suffered, and mourned enough. So I'm giving you my blessing, my permission to walk away from it all and live the rest of your life how you deserve to live it." Leon presented his hand again and gave Chris a look so severe that he wasn't sure how to interpret it. "No more living nightmares, no more wondering what monster is gonna do you in, no more holding dying boys in your arms and asking yourself what it's all for as they cry out for their mothers."
He wasn't sure what Leon was even saying. Chris couldn't help but huff out a single, disbelieving laugh. "What, so you're the person who decides when I've done enough? You get to decide when bio-terrorism isn't my problem anymore? You know, why don't you go shove that ego of yours up your ass."
Chris attempted to walk past Leon, but was stopped when Leon slammed his hand into his chest. "I'm saying you have a choice now, Chris. I'm saying that you don't have to keep living for the dead, or for the hope of a better tomorrow. I'm giving you back the choice you made after the Mansion Incident. If you ever regretted it, even for a second, now's your chance to change things. You don't have to be responsible for the world anymore."
Chris sneered at Leon and shook his head. "Yeah? What about you? How about you give yourself the blessing, huh? Don't you want to stop living like this? Find some girl and pop out a few little Leons? Wake up in a bed instead of a cot?"
Leon gave a slow nod. "More than anything."
"So why don't you do it then?"
"Because when Claire gave me the choice, I made the same one that I did back in ninety-eight." Leon gave a curt shake of his head and firmly grasped Chris' shoulder. "It's not your responsibility anymore. You don't have to feel guilty for walking away after you've already given so much. There are others who will carry your torch for you." Leon tightened his grip and inched forward once more. "I stayed awake every night for months, staring down the barrel of my gun and asking myself for a single reason why I shouldn't pull the trigger. And don't think that I don't know you've done the same. I know what it looks like. I've seen what's behind your eyes, just like Claire saw what was behind mine."
Leon let go of Chris' arm, but gave him a solid, but harmless punch to his chest.
"So instead of deciding whether or not to keep going, instead of deciding between living through hell and seeing good men die or just ending it all, I'm giving you the choice of a third option. It's not on you anymore. If you want out, then you're out. You don't need to feel guilty over the men you've lost, over the people you've sent to their death. You don't need to feel guilty for wanting a normal life again."
Leon turned around and started walking away. Five paces in, he turned his head to the side, glancing at Chris and adding one final thing. "Living a life like the people that we save is the easy way out, Chris. Killing yourself is just being selfish." And with that, Leon continued on his way, leaving Chris to his own musings.
He looked between Piers' grave and Leon's retreating figure, asking himself why it was that Leon's answer was to keep on fighting. Why it was that Leon seemed so hell bent on convincing him to quit.
Chris reached into his pocket and pulled out the bloodstained patch given to him by Piers in his last moments. "Not my responsibility…"
He closed his fist and placed the patch just over his heart, holding it there as he asked himself one thing. "In a world where Raccoon never happened—in a world where a different city fell—would I still fight?"