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Chapter Three: Aftermath

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An unfamiliar ceiling greeted Leon when his eyes snapped open. Confusion disorientating him. He was still on his back, but whatever he was laying on had more give than the dance floor where he had been shot down.

Leon winced at the memory, one hand raising to his chest only to be stopped by the painful tug of the I.V. in his arm. With a groan Leon tried to lift his other arm, a sharp pain in his shoulder halting him. The appendage dropped back to his side, the pain throbbing in remembrance.

A door clicked shut somewhere off to his left, his head turning to follow the sound.

White coat, clipboard and an air of importance you only get after spending an excess of eight years at college adorned the middle aged man that entered.

Leon held back the urge to wince as a fresh wave of pain emanated from his chest as he gathered enough breath to speak. "What's the damage, Doc.?" His voice portraying an ease he didn't feel.

The doctor, one Halbert M.D. according to his nametag, looked up from his clipboard, "Officially?"

Leon nodded as best as he could in a recumbent position.

"Well, sadly," Doctor Halbert's voice completely serious, "you died from complications during surgery."

Leon let out a pained bark of laughter, "I'm in too much pain to be dead."

Dr. Halbert let a small smile break the professional mask plastered to his face. "You were shot twice, the first bullet passing completely through your right shoulder, two centimeters from what appears to be an older bullet wound. It's a clean wound and should heal with a minimal amount of scarring within a few weeks, given adequate rest."

"And the second?" Leon gasped out, the task of speaking becoming more difficult with every labored breath.

"That would be the real reason you're in here. The second shot entered your body at an upward angle, skimming across your left lung and lodging itself against your opposing shoulder blade. Had your lung collapsed, or the angle of entry been slightly altered, your spine would have most likely been the unlucky structure in that slugs way. You're lucky to be alive."

"I thought you said I died during surgery."

"That would be my doing." The unnoticed opening of the door caught Leon off guard as Ingrid Hunnigan walked into the room, the dark green dress from the party replaced with blue sweatpants and a too large t-shirt.

At Leon's questioning look and sweeping glance of her unusual attire, Ingrid went with the simpler of her two explanations.

"I haven't had time to run home and change, so rather than walk around in a bloodstained dress I borrowed some clothes from one of the trainees."

"Bloodstained?" Leon sat up in shock, ignoring the flair of pain in the sudden movement as he ran his eyes once more over Ingrid.

She didn't quite run to him, but she was at his side in an instant, pushing him back gently onto the bed, "You shouldn't move just yet, and I'm fine." She smiled but her voice betrayed the worry she felt, "You just bleed like a stuck pig is all."

"Gee, thanks."

Ingrid just smiled. Her hair had been hastily pulled back, but tendrils of it were escaping and winding down the back of her neck.

The forgotten Dr. Halbert handed Ingrid a rolled paper that she had unknowingly dropped at some point, and then excused himself from the room with parting instructions for Leon to get plenty of rest and not overexert himself for the next couple of weeks.

When the door had clicked close behind them Ingrid unfolded the newspaper. It was dated the morning after the Benefit Diner, Leon's own face in black and white staring back at him from the front page. Above the photo it read: Hero dies after saving President.

"Why?"

"I figured it would be easier to investigate Umbrella if they thought you to be already dead."

Leon returned Ingrid's smile. They stayed like that for a moment before Ingrid coltishly averted her eyes, "Plus it leaves less paper work for me to fill out."

Leon's laughter quickly reverted to choking coughs, Ingrid helping him up to rub his back in soothing circles until he caught his breath. He propped himself up on the arm with the I.V. in it, his other arm laying across his lap.

"I need to get out of here."

"Dr, Halbert said you need rest-"

"Then I can rest at home."

Ingrid looked away quickly, avoiding his questioning look.

"What?"

"It's government housing. Once you were proclaimed dead, they reclaimed it. I'll be able to get your stuff released into my possession once they finish boxing it up, but until then you really don't have a home to return too."

"Oh." Leon made as if to lay back down.

Ingrid returned her gaze to Leon, the hint of a smile playing at each corner of her mouth, "I was going to offer up my place and play bed nurse, that is unless you'd rather stay here."

Leon smirked up at her from his nearly reclined position, "Devil woman, you enjoy stringing me along don't you?"

Ingrid's smile was full blown by now, pearly whites flashing almost wickedly, "I've gotta get my kicks somehow, Kennedy, and short of running off to Europe for my own adventures all I've got is you."

Leon forced himself to sit up fully, legs pulled to one side of the small bed to fall to the floor, only a small grunt of pain released between clenched teeth at the action. His shirt had been removed, probably cut off of him during surgery, but his black slacks remained unharmed except for the occasional stiff spot where blood had dried and disappeared within the dark fabric.

Mindful of the dressings around his chest and shoulder, Ingrid removed the I.V. and then wrapped an arm under Leon's, helping him to his feet where he leaned heavily against her before gaining some semblance of balance.

"Ugh. Europe's over rated. You better just stick to me for a while, I'm not going anywhere in my condition."

'I guess he's staying after all' Ingrid thought, 'If only for a while.' Regardless, the thought almost brought a smile to her lips anyway.

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Next: Leon (finally) sets out and runs into some familiar faces

Chapter Three Completed 11-21-05