Author's Notes: Leon being suicidal. That's about it.
It was an unconsious paradisial hell, a place were he could dream of home, a place he could remember all the ones he fought beside, and the people that should have fought with him. It was a place of peace, and a place of pain all the same.
Sleep had formed a love/hate relationship with Leon. It whispered loving in his ear lulling him to enter it's depths, and once it was there ate his very soul, feeding off his memories, haunting his every step.
Yet Leon was addicted. He craved to see the past, to live in the fantasy that was once reality. It became an infatuation that slowly destroyed what he had worked so hard gain back.
So putting the bottle of pills on his bedside table and lying down in bed for the last time, he said goodbye to the life he had rebuilt, and slipped into a trance of pain and pleasure swirled into his own mind. He would never have to leave again.