Obscurity:

The Long Dark

VI.

Lay Low

The beep of monitors drew him out of the fog. He lay on his back in the small hospital ward. A burly-looking male nurse was checking his IV and greeted, "Agent Kennedy, welcome back."

Leon grunted, eyes gritty, voice hoarse, "-what happened?"

From the doorway, a pretty doctor in a white coat returned, "You had a panic attack."

The truth of that was somehow both sad and embarrassing. Was she kidding? He hadn't been panicking when he'd gone down. Hell, if he'd ever been the type to panic under pressure, he'd have done it in Raccoon City when he didn't know his ass from a hole in the ground.

He shook his head in denial, "Didn't. Wasn't."

The doctor came to his bedside, her dark hair braided and curled around her scalp and her mocha-colored skin looking fresh and lovely like coffee with two creams. Her dark eyes assessed him as she answered, "You did. Coupled with dehydration, the beginning stages of hypothermia, and lack of sleep- your body let you know it is time to stop fighting. It put you down, Agent Kennedy, and you should listen to it. It knows what you need. It knew you'd abused it too far."

The slight tinge of a British accent quirked at his ears as he studied her gorgeous face. She was familiar, and he wasn't entirely sure why. With a rough edge to his voice, he asked, "Have we met?"

She checked his vitals on the monitor beside his bed, and she answered, "Not exactly. I'm here on loan from the B.S.A.A. African division. I'm Sheva Alomar."

Eyes narrowed, he queried, "You're a doctor?"

"Not yet." She crossed her fingers while studying him, "This is my first year of medical school."

He studied her face and figured she couldn't be more than eighteen or nineteen years old. Curious, he asked, "Are you even old enough for med school?"

Her eyes twinkled as she responded, "I graduated high school at fourteen. West Africa isn't known for its career choices for women. When I joined the B.S.A.A., they paid for schooling for me on the agreement I served the organization exclusively in any capacity."

Holding her eyes, he remarked, "...should've picked another career path, Alomar. This one doesn't have much of a life expectancy."

Without missing a beat, Sheva answered, "Neither did my parents. Umbrella took them from me before my twelfth birthday. Fighting and saving others? That's how I honor their memory."

He bobbed his head because vengeance guided almost everyone in their business. A young girl trying to stop the giant who'd murdered her parents had a place in bioterror beside a man blackmailed into serving. Like the rest, Sheva Alomar was a woman with nothing to lose, looking for a reckoning against a corporation that'd destroyed her life.

He was hoping she found it.

He was hoping he lived long enough to see it.

With a slight look of admonishment, Sheva told him, "You need to take it easy, Agent Kennedy."

"...Leon."

She smiled gently and acquiesced, "Leon. You need to listen to your body. Do something for you. Take a nap. Have a glass of wine and watch the Northern Lights."

He scoffed, "You know what I found in that cave?"

She nodded with understanding, "I do. And it's not going anywhere. Your team controlled the immediate threat. They've sealed the cave entrance for the time being. Take a minute, formulate an attack plan, and let yourself reboot. If you don't..." She warned with a steely look meant to make her point, "Next time, you might not have someone to pull you clear. And those things you're fighting will make short work of all that training and skill."

When he said nothing, Sheva stressed, "It would be a real loss for the fight if you went down and died because you were too stubborn to take it easy."

After a stare down of a few moments, Leon finally surrendered by turning his hands over to show himself unarmed, "Message received. I'll stop to smell the roses."

Her head tilted, "Are there roses in Alaska?"

When she smiled, that gorgeous face she was rocking looked very young. He wanted to tell her to party with her friends and forget the fight. But he understood better than anyone the motivation of avenging what you'd lost. So, he just quipped, "Must be...someone left a bundle on my bedside table here."

She grinned a little, "Ah, yes. Your team. They've come and gone. The roses, it seems, came from the burly fellow you travel with. He seemed to think you'd find it funny."

Leon chuckled lightly. "He would. He hit on you when he dropped them off?"

Sheva twinkled as she answered, "He did. I was tempted...I seem to have a thing for big and burly."

"Stay clear of that landmine, Alomar. Kevin Ryman can't even commit to a brand of deodorant, let alone a pretty girl."

She patted his shoulder as she headed toward the door, "I'm on call for the hospital, but I'm also thoroughly trained and tested in combat. If you need another pair of hands, just ask."

He nodded as she paused at the door to add, "I'll release you in a few hours after I'm sure your sodium levels have stabilized. Do I have to make it a doctor's order for you to take the rest of the day off from the heavy stuff?"

He crossed a finger over his heart in two quick moves, "I'll be good."

"Good." She smiled as she exited with a final, "It was nice to meet you, Leon. A shame it wasn't under better circumstances."

"...story of my life, sweetheart."

With a last charming laugh, she was gone.

Leon closed his eyes to find his balance. Panic attack. Ridiculous. The pressure in his chest had made him panic, which had worsened the pressure - an endless cycle predicated by too much work, too little sleep, and too much responsibility.

He'd take the good doctor's advice and lay low for the day. There was plenty he could do that didn't involve bullets and blood.

It was time to start digging beyond the ice to find what waited in the sunlight surrounding a cave washed in shadow.

The Nome Nugget Inn was anything but a fancy place to sleep. It was adorable, quaint, and straightforward.

It was functional to offer precisely what he needed for a day spent in research.

He correlated data from Rebecca's machines she'd recovered. He did a background check on the locals as he drank coffee and wished for a fucking cigarette. His hands flew over keys as he tapped resources, searching for answers to what was in those caves.

The word carved into the ice by the main doors haunted him. Why was it familiar?

Icarus.

He hit the internet for answers.

An Athenian legend telling the story of the son of a man named Daedalus who'd built the labyrinth.

Daedalus and his son Icarus attempted to escape Crete by creating wings made of feathers and wax. Daedalus warned his son of complacency and hubris, making it clear that he had to maintain the perfect distance between sea and sky lest he fall. Icarus, in typical arrogant man fashion, chose not to heed his father and flew too close to the sun and melted the wax in his wings. It sent him into the sea, where he subsequently drowned. It was the birth of the old saying - don't fly too close to the sun and was meant to remind one that intense disregard for the rules would get you killed.

Was it a warning to the civilization rising around the plagas?

Was it a suggestion of what happened when you left the dark for the light?

That kind of collective intelligence gave more credence to nearly human intellect. Was it possible for the plagas to access that kind of intelligence?

Generally, what they knew, was that it was a hive mind. It shared cohesive reasoning and allowed for nearly human levels of planning. Was it that far of a stretch for them to share restraint and cooperative construction?

Was the plagas capable of building civilizations and adapting to the emerging human world?

Leon tapped his fingers on the desk. What they'd found so far predated and post-dated man's existence as it was modernly accepted. Was it possible the plagas somehow learned how to mimic human response?

The thing that had defended them had spoken after all. It had copied his voice like a Wendigo, echoing his timbre and tone with an impressive parody. And it had used the term chosen.

What did that mean?

That Icarus had been? That Leon was? What did it mean to be "chosen"?

He dug around in the legend of Icarus, Daedalus, and the labyrinth. The maze he'd created was meant to hold the minotaur for King Minos of Crete. It was so cleverly done that Daedalus himself had had trouble finding his way out upon its completion.

The details were sketchy, but if he was reading this right, he was starting to understand that the plagas possibly saw Daedalus and Icarus as some form of early architects for their evolution. He'd seen the minotaurs on the walls in the drawings. He'd seen the things in the walls birthed from adaptation and experimentation. Was it possible "Daedalus" was an early version of a scientist? Had he created minotaurs and monsters using the plagas as his baseline for infection and transmission?

Men had been experimenting with making monsters since the dawn of time. It wasn't a far stretch to assume the plagas had begun spreading under guidance since the expansion of a mortal intellect.

Was there a labyrinth in those caves? Were the caves the maze meant to protect the plagas from the sun and invasion?

He needed Rebecca to answer some of the scientific questions involved. How did they adapt while sharing a hive mind? How did they develop conscious thought and reasoning? Did they have the capability of a full-scale human understanding?

Could they mimic a mortal man without anyone being the wiser?

Did plagas infected humans walk among them unchecked?

Was that possible?

The knock on his door had him moving to peer into the hallway through the little peephole. Jill stood in a pretty white sweater and jeans. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail with pieces of errant dark floating prettily around her gorgeous face.

Shirtless in jeans, he opened the door with his gun clasped loosely in his left hand and aimed at the floor.

She glanced at his face, the gun in his hand, and back at him as she queried, "Expecting danger?"

With a smirk, he shrugged, "We're about thirty-five kilometers from a cave filled with monsters. What do you think?"

Jill offered him the coffee she held in one hand and the little brown bag in the other. "I brought party favors."

He grinned and held the door as he stepped to the side to let her in.

She set the bag on the little desk beside his computer and glanced at the screen. Her brow furrowed as Leon turned to pick up an undershirt from the floor and slide it on. The snug, ribbed white fabric molded to his impressive torso as she mused, "Legends?"

He picked up the coffee in the Styrofoam cup and returned, "It was carved on the wall of that cave. I think it has merit based on what we saw down there."

Jill glanced at his face and frowned at the pink streak beside his eye. The acid had left its mark, but it was healing. It should have looked worse after less than twenty-four hours, but he was healing it. It was the first real confirmation she had that the regenerative abilities gifted to him by his previous plagas infection had remained.

He paused with the cup to his lips and added, "Thank you."

Jill blinked at him. "...for?"

He arched a brow with a slight tilt of lips. "For my life. That's the second damn time you surged in like a hero to make sure I made it out alive."

She gave him a droll look as she answered, "I think we can compare notes on saving each other, Leon. You'd have done the same. Everything's ok?"

He nodded and replied, "Apparently, I had a panic attack...because I'm an asshole, who doesn't know the concept of taking it easy, my body shut down to teach me a lesson."

His tone was joking, but the look Jill gave him wasn't. "They work you too hard."

He shrugged and quipped, "The perks, though, right? I'm living the dream: sleepless nights, lonely hours on choppers and planes, battles, blood, and bioterror."

She quirked a smile, "Aren't we all?"

He grunted and swallowed a mouthful of the coffee she'd brought him. The second it hit his tongue, his eyes flared wide with wonder. He lowered it and gave her an impressed sound of pure pleasure, "You found Black Ivory in this god-forsaken place?"

Her eyes twinkled, "I'm resourceful."

Without missing a beat, he answered, "You're a goddess." He sipped again and shivered with joy, "Goddamn, that's the good stuff. How'd you know it was my penultimate?"

She shrugged, "You told me in that bar in Terragrigia."

He tilted his head at her, "You remember a random comment about coffee I made?"

"You like expensive things. Clothes, coffee, booze. Must be the silver spoon in your mouth."

Leon grinned lightly. "Must be. I owe you."

Jill dismissed that with a wave of her hand, "You owe me nothing. Consider it a gift."

He studied her as she leaned over his laptop to read his research. He couldn't remember the last time someone had done something nice for him without seeking favor. Hell, he couldn't remember the last time someone had done something nice for him for any reason at all.

When she shifted, the bruise on the side of her face peeked from behind the careful makeup she wore as she commented, "You think they're capable of coordinating a human protocol regarding evolution?"

He shrugged as he crossed to her and answered, "Just speculation at this point. But you saw them in Spain. They were clever enough to trap me and stalk me. It's not a stretch to think they could functionally build their version of an empire."

She nodded and shook her head, reading through his various thoughts. "It's one thing to have an infection spread through a city...but the idea of a combined population working together to overthrow others? That's terrifying."

He caught her chin to turn her face up to the light. She stopped talking to look at him as he inquired, "You took a hard hit. You ok?"

She smiled lightly. "I'm fine. I've had worse, I promise you."

She had. Krauser had knocked her around in Spain. He'd attempted to terrorize and rape her. He'd died shitting himself for it.

Leon's fingers gingerly touched the faded bruise on her cheek as he grumbled, "I won't fail you again."

Surprised, Jill's big blue eyes flared a little. "Have you before?"

He gave her a tight smile as he let go of her chin and turned back to pick up the little brown bag. "After the coffee, I'm curious what other delights are in store."

So, she thought, he'd ignore her question. He would consider his body shutting down on him a failure to protect. He was just that guy. It wasn't even the fact that he was a man and believed that men protected women; it was just him. He protected - at all costs, anyone and everyone who needed him. Gender was irrelevant.

The second he opened the bag, he laughed. It was so good to hear that laugh. It wasn't practiced. It wasn't careful. It was just sheer delight. "Where the hell did you find pumpkin pie up here?"

She grinned. "You never got your Thanksgiving dinner, remember? Seemed ok to make it belated. Keep going. There's more."

He set the little slice of pie in saran wrap on the desk and tugged a plastic container free. Inside, sliced turkey breast and stuffing waited. His left hand lifted and slid over his mouth, rubbing at the grin that rose. "You spoil me."

She grinned in response. "Don't get too excited - it's store-bought lunch meat and Stove Top stuffing."

"It's perfect." He praised and added, "So are you."

When she just flushed a little, he finished, "Thank you. Again. I don't think anyone has ever cared if I had Thanksgiving dinner before."

Jill shrugged as she started toward the door, "You're welcome. Do me a favor and take a few hours of downtime. No work. No research. Just eat your treats and drink your coffee and relax."

As she started to open the door, he hesitated and then just asked, "You wanna share it with me?"

She glanced over her shoulder, and he shrugged, "Seems lonely otherwise."

He waited while she considered and finally replied, "Why not? But I'll just watch you eat."

"That seems weird."

She grinned as she joined him on the bed and crossed her legs under her. He flicked on the little tv and tuned into a movie in midstream. He sat beside her on the bed and helped himself to the feast of cold lunch meat and warm stuffing.

"It's only weird if I do it like this."

After a moment, he looked over to find her watching him owlishly with a crazy look on her face. Amusement had his mouth twitching as he commented, "I like a good stalker stare. Like whatcha see babeh?"

The teasing made her chuckle as he affected a lousy accent and bobbled his brows. "Oh, I love a man munching on tryptophan. It really gets my juices flowing."

He polished off the food as they switched focus to the screen and the current kissing in the rain. Musing, he speculated, "Why does everyone always kiss in the rain? Who wants swamp ass while they're making out?"

Tongue in cheek, she teased, "You prefer boiling lava and burning heat?"

Leon set the container aside and turned to face her on the bed. "Tell me what happened after Spain."

She tilted her head at him, "Nothing. They debriefed me. I spent a few days in Ibiza recovering and took over a mission since Chris was incapacitated in the Baltics."

He nodded. "He's ok?"

Touched by the concern, she nodded, "He's a tank. He bounced back quickly. He's a little more scarred, but he's fine."

Quietly, he advised, "I want you to call him."

Her brows winged up as he added, "Put him on standby. Let him know about the situation. I think a sharp eye in the sky on this could be an asset."

Jill studied him and responded, "Shenmei made it clear they'll try to block that."

"Fuck it; I'll take the hit." He held her eyes, "I think it's clear that it wouldn't hurt to have more backup here."

Jill inched a little closer on the bed and laid a hand on his arm to soothe him. "You didn't fail, Leon. You had a team in place for a reason. We backed you up. No one was badly hurt. We made it out and sealed the cave temporarily until we know more about what we're dealing with. No one died. It was a win."

He rubbed his tired eyes and sighed, "I'm so used to kicking in doors here, Jill. I can't do that if my body shits the bed on me. I want to make sure there's someone in place that can."

She tilted a smile at him, "You think I can't?"

He gave her a warm look. "I think I don't want you doing it alone."

Her eyes twinkled, "You worried about me?"

He just smiled and yawned a little. Jill invited quietly, "Lay down for a minute. Just a few minutes. I'll wake you up if anything happens."

He took the offer and laid back on the bed with a blown-out breath of relief. "I need about a hundred years of sleep, I think."

"You do," She agreed as she fought the impulse to stroke his tired brow, "Take a few hours. I'll cover you."

His mouth twitched as he teased with his eyes closed, "I've had that dream too many times to count."

"Let the turkey take away the worry, you hopeless lech. Let it go. I'll keep watch."

After a moment, he sighed, "I can't. My mind will not relent here."

The bed shifted, and she lifted his head and laid in her lap over her crossed legs. Surprised, he opened his eyes, and she shook her head, "Nope. Relax. Trust me."

He did. That part was easy. She'd earned more than that.

He closed his eyes again, and her fingers rubbed his temples slowly, in lazy circles. He groaned in pleasure as those clever digits slid down the sides of his neck and around the back to rub at the tension stored there.

Quietly, she murmured, "You're so tight."

And he quipped, "Isn't that my line?"

The joking fell away as she found some knot in his shoulders and pressed, making him emit a sound as if he'd just had an orgasm. Her eyes twinkled at his relaxed face as she cooed, "There it is. Good for you, babeh?"

He chuckled, eyes rolling behind his closed lids in ecstasy as Jill worked out the tension. "...seriously...you are a fucking goddess."

"Hmm. Maybe you should worship me."

His mouth grinned around gorgeous white teeth and that impressive dark beard as he returned, "I'm thinking about it."

Her hands slid down his shoulders to his arms and stroked with light pressure over his biceps. When his hands rolled over, she continued her quest to his palms and fingers, sliding their digits between each other as she swept her thumb over his tight wrists and palms. Each groan of delight made her grin as he softened in her hands.

Jill lowered her mouth and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead when he started to drift off. His gentle smile in answer made her feel gooey inside as his face completely slackened. The knots in his shoulders and neck eased. His body gave up the fight inches at a time until he was pliant in her arms.

As her phone buzzed, Jill answered it quietly, "Valentine."

The voice on the other end teased, "Wanna be mine?"

She snorted a little and whispered, "Whatcha need, Red?"

Chris Redfield came back to her with a smirk, "I'm being blocked at the Canadian border by an ugly fucker with too many teeth. Tell me why I shouldn't feed them to him."

Jill studied Leon and murmured, "Give me until tomorrow; I think I've found a way around the block."

"...why are you whispering?"

When she said nothing, he teased, "Who's there with you?"

She was so silent that he finally laughed, "You minx. Tell him he looks like a hairy-faced girl for me. And get me the clearance, Jill. Let's level this bitch and be done with it."

Jill passed a hand over Leon's hair and warned, "The way of the gun isn't always the answer, Chris. There are greater things at play here. Discretion is going to be key."

"Sure, sure. No bombs. Not yet. But get me on the ground so I can see what we're dealing with."

"...I'm on it."

"Be careful, Jill. The blowback from Washington could be huge if Kennedy mishandles this."

Pressure. Leon was always the guy under enormous pressure. One guy to save the President's daughter, one guy to beat back the dark and spare the world from what was in those caves. He was always just one guy.

But not this time. Somehow, she had a way of being beside him when he thought he was alone. She was hoping it would be enough to guarantee the safety of all the people they'd sworn to protect.

She was hoping she'd be able to protect him.

"Have faith, Redfield. He's tougher than he looks."

"No doubt. Just make sure he holds the line. Playing errand boy for the White House comes with a leash covered in spikes made of responsibility. Don't let him cave into the bureaucratic ass-licking."

"I'm on it."

Chris snorted on his line, "I bet you are. Lucky bastard."

He laughed. She snorted. And he finished, "Get me clearance, Jill, and we'll finish it."

"Play nice, Chris, and don't punch anyone while you wait."

"Would I do that?"

Her lack of response made him laugh as he hung up.

She touched Leon's soft hair and wondered what it was like to carry the world on your shoulders.

Her eyes flicked over to the computer and the words glaring at her on the screen - chosen. Was he?

He was - for more than one reason.

When he snored softly, Jill touched his hair and smoothed it back from his tired face. Her thumb dipped into the cleft she knew was hiding under that dark swath of hair covering his chin. She sighed.

And stood watch over him.

So, even if he carried the world, he didn't carry it alone.