Disclaimer: Resident Evil is the intellectual property of Capcom. I write without profit and without permission.

You know the drill: a scene-by-scene of Leon's evolving trip through the events of RE4, with a few small changes that steadily grow.

5. Eradication

There was no such thing as a "simple rescue mission," Leon thought as he reloaded. Just a day of hell followed by a few more of insanity. He glanced around the pleasant-looking garden maze and tried a left.

Another thorn in his side. First Ada, no matter how non-hostile she seemed, and now Jack. (And maybe Luis Sera wasn't on the level with him either.) Couldn't he get a friend who didn't blow up in his face? Next Claire Redfield would show up as new CEO of Umbrella.

On automatic, he cocked the rifle, pinpointed the huffing of breath, and knocked the plaga-infested wolf to the ground. He kicked the wounded creature away as it flailed at him and finished it off.

That whole freakish interview had shaken him. Hearing a friend's voice had made the tunnel feel safer, until the "dead guy talking" thing kicked him in the gut. And it had been good having someone with him who could help him out. Having Ashley with him was sometimes worse than being alone, because if he got himself killed, what would happen to her?

Now, Ada. Definite Umbrella ties there. Krauser denied working with her, whatever that was worth. The evidence did support him. If they were allies, Ada would have helped Jack keep his "I'm dead" cover. Unless Krauser meant to silence him. He left the maze again and started up the stairs towards the balcony.

It almost didn't hurt at first. The plaga started moving, uncurling perhaps, shoving inside him. Through the gagging, he felt a sudden stabbing sensation. He arched his back away from it. Krauser'd said it was trying to get to his spine. Felt close. And to get there, it was pushing—he coughed wetly and watched blood splatter over the floor—against some organ not meant for that. The spasm passed. He braced his hand against the floor and palmed the pill bottle.

Trust, or not? What had been Krauser's style? He'd always just grabbed for the upper hand and pushed for the kill. Poison? He tried to picture Jack drugging someone. Nope.

The real question: was Jack Krauser working for Saddler? And immediately: no. Krauser'd told him once that he sorta sympathized with the communists, for God's sake. He'd probably opposed Saddler the moment he saw the infected village. He swallowed two pills dry, willing himself not to bring them back up, and shoved back up to his feet. Nothing happened for a long few minutes, and then the burning sensation in his gut started to fade.

He and Jack'd had each other's backs once. Even now, some part of him wanted to trust him again. Well, he'd trust that Krauser was trying to use him.

6. Harsh

Thing about heroes: they died.

Sad ugly truth. Krauser was kind of used to those, but this one seemed to have it in for him personally. He drew his knife and tested the edge. You saw a lot of heroes, fighting as a mercenary. You killed some of 'em, too. Which was maybe the reason for the knife: you knew you had a challenge, knew this was gonna be fun. Then it didn't seem to cost so much.

It was getting on his nerves, how he was acting, standing around by the corpse of some garador unable to shake this.

He might have to fight Kennedy. And if it were him or the Secret Service straight-edger, cross one Leon Kennedy off the roll call. Could be fun. He was almost as quick with the knife as Krauser, and apparently remembered their sparring matches all too well. Could be hella interesting fight, maybe it was even worth—the thought burned him before he'd even finished it.

He thunked his head on the wall. He was an idiot. Cause it was starting to seem like cutting Kennedy open, after all that fighting he'd done? Was gonna blow.

But that's what heroes did. They ran into danger and they bled and they saved the girl and they fought and they died. Screw the odds of one Jack Krauser wasting Kennedy: the man was heading up against Saddler. Krauser didn't know how much of a fight Saddler could be, but his plaga started throwing off the danger signals if the old guy so much as frowned.

He'd left two years ago before Kennedy could die like the rest of the good guys he knew. He slammed the toe of his boot into a rusted water trough, sending water flooding over the floor. It flowed against the corpse of the garador and curled under its bulk. Krauser watched with some satisfaction as it dissolved the orange pool around the stiffened body. The red over the blades of one hand, Kennedy's blood, vanished in the general mud. That was even better. He'd patch up his wounds and hide his weakness, and nobody besides him and Jack would know how much he'd bled down here in the dark. They'd just keep thinking Leon was invulnerable.

He turned his back on the dead garador. And he tried, just for a few seconds, to see what the world was like if he agreed.

6. Softened

"So he didn't hurt you?" He had to ask it one more time. Krauser's tone had been dangerously bitter.

"No." Ashley summarized the story they'd just sorted out. "I leave class, I go to drop my books off at the car, I head back towards the elevator, he's in there, and it goes to the basement and he hauls me out. I get ready to scream, there's duct tape. He hauls me out past one of the bodyguards, who's on the ground. I get my phone out to turn it on so they can track me, and he cuts it in half and throws me in the van. Well, sort of tosses."

"He didn't threaten you?"

"The lummox didn't even look at me most of the time." He knew it rankled to be ignored and feel weak. She'd been brave enough to keep resisting the plaga and keep putting herself in danger with him, and that's all he can ask for.

He didn't need an ally to have his back, so all he'd have to watch would be his own half of the world. He didn't need the knowledge that he could call a break and have someone else do the guarding. He didn't need someone to charge in with him or cover him on a retreat. He didn't need to have someone that just wasn't going to get hauled off anywhere. Memories be damned. That wasn't now, and he could do this.

He smiled. "We're doing great, Ashley. We're gonna get these things out."

7. Slide

"Ada," I tell myself in a whisper, "get a grip."

I know Krauser's dangerous. But for right now, he's come across to the idea that he shouldn't kill Kennedy yet. Leon's not threatened by him right now, especially with me prepared to move should something go wrong.

Because Krauser's an overaggressive soldier who needs fighting like some veterans need alcohol. He doesn't seem able to care for much else. Certainly I've seen him go sullen after walking in the village, but that could be because he's found nothing to kill there.

He's nothing like Leon.

I finish my note, place my mark on it. It's dangerous, if Leon doesn't have the sense to destroy them. But I trust his intelligence. And he has to be aware that he may have to destroy the girl if her plaga overtakes her.

I can't afford to get close or be seen. I have to keep him at arm's length and have faith in his skills. But I feel that something is getting off-course.