GLIMPSE:

A Resident Evil Short Story

Starring:

Leon S. Kennedy and Claire Redfield

Guest Starring:

Chris Redfield, Jill Valentine, Rebecca Chambers, Sherry Birkin, Albert Wesker and the Ghost of Ada Wong

Part Four:

Will the real Leon Kennedy please stand up?

Raccoon City - 2006

The weird thing about waking up in a house that isn't yours, to a life that isn't yours, with a wife that isn't yours...was admitting that there was nothing weird about it at all. It felt good. It felt better than that. It was like waking up to waffles and bacon and boubon on ice and blowjobs every morning. There was nothing better.

The filter of post Christmas sunlight spilled into the room and tucked a glitter of gold over the red hair of the woman curled on her side on the bed. He kept flashing on her face that first night he'd met her - determined and drawn with dedication, she'd shook his world with her courage. She was still here, still shaking it, and making him feel about twelve years old with the want of her.

She had a little tank top tucked over her and small white panties to guard against the chill beneath the blanket that covered them. Leon put his hand on her back, to prove he could, and she sighed in her sleep, murmuring, "It's your morning for the baby, ok?"

Right. The baby. It had a name. He still didn't know it, but it had a name.

And Claire added, "I have a meeting early, about seven. Can you get Ben off to school for me?"

He had no clue where the school was. Clearly, he was going to have to use the "I'm an alien; help me" act to get the boy to tell him. He'd figure it out. He'd once had to fight his way out of a dungeon laced with booby traps and instant death, he could find a pre-school. Surely.

But for now?

Claire murmured, sleepily, "Coffee? Babe? Coffee. Please."

He shifted against her back. She smiled and snuggled, sighing again, "Good morning."

She really talked too much. Seriously. He wiggled her panties down while she shifted, blinking three times. Surprised, she queried, "Again?"

Yep. She talked too much. His hand curled over her chest, palming a breast under that little tank top, and he filled her up before she could really wake up. Claire gasped, excited, and bucked in his arms.

She gasped, "Who are you?"

He turned her face to kiss her, murmuring, "I'm yours." And stole her breath on a needy pant. She gripped him, she grabbed for him.

There was no more talking.

Twenty minutes later, he left her half falling off the bed with her butt in the air gasping and sweaty, and jumped in the shower. The pass by the mirror in the bathroom was still horrifying. He took a minute to smack the slightly poochy pouch of his belly before he got into the heated spray.

That was fixable. Honestly. It was a treadmill and some carb counting. It was fine.

His hands scooped back his hair and started soaping. He wasn't a man that reeled for long. How could he? Whatever this was. This "glimpse" it was the way things were. Wasn't he known for his ability to roll with the punches?

Sure - Ada Wong was showing up acting like a benevolent spirit. She was friendly and weird and not at all conniving or sly. It was entirely out of character for her to bother with something mundane like fixing his life. But what about any of this made sense? Were any of them really themselves here? Wasn't all of this...an alternate universe? (*cough*)

The shower door slid open and Claire giggled as she got in, slipping around in front of him to share the spray. "Move it, hotstuff. I'm already late, thanks to you."

He just kept staring at her as she soaped up, rubbing her hand between her thighs and talking again. She was always talking. He was too busy watching the soap slide down her spine and over that heart shaped ass of hers. "I told you about Jennifer at the office right? She is such a hose beast. She thinks because she has a modest sense of personal style, she can redecorate the whole damn office. Apparently, fucking the boss makes you an interior designer."

What had she been in school for once? He racked his brain to remember. Finally, he said, "So beat her at her own game."

Surprised, Claire rinsed the soap out of her eyes. "You think?"

"You kidding?" He took advantage of the moment to play with her breasts. Why? Why not? He was her husband in this weird world. He'd pretty much pictured his face in her boobs a thousand times since he met her. He never touched her. Ever. Why? She was his friend. And even his low life whoring had standards. To stay friends, you kept your hands to yourself.

He didn't fuck girls that mattered to him. It was that simple.

But this wasn't real. So he got to do whatever he wanted.

She was getting breathy before she slapped at him a little. "Stop it. You want me to be late for work?"

"Yes."

She shook her head, turning her back on him, and laughing. "You woke up or something yesterday. What did you do with my husband?"

His hands scooped against her again, spilling around her hips and wigging her against his groin. "He's dead. I killed him. He was a useless bastard."

She laughed and turned her head to kiss him. He nearly had her ready for round two when the thing hanging in the shower started squawking. It was a remote bomb? It was a gateway to hell? It was white and had a speaker, so it was a monitor. Was it offering the listener the voice of demons? What the hell was that noise!? It was LOUD. Like a chittering cockroach thing he'd faced in Spain. It was so loud it brought their mouths apart and Claire gasped, "The baby. Leon! The baby."

Right. The baby.

They had one of those. She had one leg thrown over his shoulder while he crouched in the water with his mouth on her and tried to eat her alive. He was supposed to care about the baby? The baby let up a wail and Claire came. She came against his thrusting fingers and tongue while she made a small mewling cat noise, humping.

He pulled his hand from her jerking body and she trembled, slapping the wall beside her. She'd knocked all the bottles off the walls around them while she'd grappled for something to hold on to.

"Lord...You take viagra or something?"

That was...that was just insulting. It really was. What kind of pathetic turd was his other self?! Seriously. He frowned and Claire instructed, "Get the baby, ok? She's probably hungry."

Leon sighed and climbed out of the shower. He watched her shiver in the water and murmur, "Holy hell. Seriuosly."

He grinned, winking at himself in the mirror. There. That was him. That was what he did with women. Seriously. He left them shaking and sloppy wet for him.

Boom.

Claire started singing in the water. Off key, adorable, and happy. Had he ever seen her so happy? The years and years he'd known her, he couldn't remember seeing her so happy.

This life? It suited her. She fit here.

He paused, considered things, and slid open the door of the shower. She glanced at him, laughing, "Don't give me that look. It's not my turn with her. It's yours. You know that. Monday is your day, baby."

He scanned her face, back and forth, until she grinned at him. "What?"

Shaking his head, Leon mused, "You're my viagra, Claire. Just so we're clear. I'm gonna do that again when you get home today. And then I'm going to fuck you until you pass out."

She looked like she might have been hit in the face by fish. She floundered, mouth open, staring at him.

He winked.

He closed the shower. He missed her face as she did, flushed and flattered. She laughed breathily as he left the bathroom, fanning herself. Whatever was going on with him, she didn't care. He'd never looked at her like he was now. Ever.

She shook herself, like coming out of a long sleep. Whoever he was this morning? She was nuts about him, and considered skipping work all together to be with him.

In the baby's room, Leon was changing her while she watched him. She sucked her fist, giving him big eyes. He was getting better at it, clearly, and didn't even cringe at the poopy mess in her diaper.

He considered her with narrow eyes, "You don't eat any food. How can you make such a mess?"

She grinned a gummy smile and babbled at him. Glancing around to be sure no one was looking, he leaned down to kiss her. She just...she squealed. It was loud and happy. She grabbed his ears and babbled and blew raspberries. She gummed his nose and...that was good. It was ok. It was pretty nice.

He heard Ben say, "You like babies huh?"

Ben leaped up on the changing station in his footie pajamas covered in Star Wars characters. Leon shrugged, "I guess. Was I a good dad to you?"

Ben nodded, eating a banana. "You are. You like to play catch. You make good lasagna. You fart a lot 'cause you like beans."

"Am I good at farting?"

"Uncle Chris is better."

He would be. The douche. He probably farted the National Anthem while doing the two step.

"You fart real good though. It stinks alot."

Boys. This is what mattered in life. Who could fart the smelliest was a big deal with men. He had some proving to do versus Chris, clearly.

Leon nodded, looking reflective, "Makes sense with the bean eating. You think I'm fat?"

Ben studied him, looking studious and pensive. "...you look like my Dad. I don't think you're fat. Tina Baker's Dad is real fat. He looks like Patrick from Spongebob. Tina's Mom said, when we were over at her house one day..." He geared up for an impersonation, and stole Leon's heart. Why? There was nothing Leon Kennedy did better than bad impersonations.

Ben chortled, in a high pitched tone, "Jim," He wagged his finger, "Claire Kennedy gets to come home to THAT." Ben gestured at Leon with a girly wave of his arm, "You see him?! I don't deserve to come home to that?! Lay off the nachos!"

Truth from the mouth of babes.

Mollified a little, Leon snorted, "Tina's mom has a crush on me, huh?"

"All the Mom's do. It's gross."

Feeling a little more like maybe Dad bod wasn't so bad, Leon nodded sagely. "Yeah. Girls are gross. Steer clear for like thirty years, would ya?"

"I hate girls." Ben shrugged, "They always do this..." He mimicked giggling and fanning himself, "Even Mom does that."

Oh. Oh oh oh. Leon cleared his throat, "Yeah? When?"

"When you give her this look." Ben put his hair in his eyes and pouted his lips, winking slowly. It's clearly meant to be Leon, sultry. Although, for the life of him, he can't remember a time he's ever looked at a woman that way.

From the doorway of the room, Claire remarked, "Ok, boys, Mom's out. I'll pick up KFC for dinner on my way home."

Leon gave her a look over his shoulder, "Don't worry about that shit, Claire. It'll kill us with grease. I'll cook. You just bring a bottle of wine and relax."

She paused, blinking twice, "Really?"

"Yeah. You said you had a big day right?" Did he? He had no clue. But Ben saved the day.

"Dad's on Christmas break, Mom. He just has to take Gigi to the doctor." And there was the baby's name. Gigi babbled as Leon picked her up. She gummed his ear.

Claire hesitated, shrugged, and laughed, "Great. What's on the menu?"

Leon shrugged, "Pot roast, probably. I'm guessing Lobster ravioli wouldn't go over real well in a corndogs and tater tots situation."

She smiled, shaking her head, "You're something else. Be good today, ok?"

He winked at her...and his hair tumbled into his eye, "Not sure good is what you really want, sweetheart."

She...giggled. She giggled and shook herself. Why was she giggling around him all the time? She was NOT a giggler. She pointed at him, eyes narrowed, "Charmer. I'm on to you." Flouncing away, she tried to figure out what was happening here.

But that was simple. Her husband woke up Christmas morning and decided to rock her world. She was in love with him again. Just like that. Just that quickly. Because he was Leon again...and not the shadow she'd been living beside for so long.

Leon glanced at Ben.

He looked righteous, pursing his lips. He handed Leon the banana peel as she climbed down, "See? Weird. You should cut your hair, Dad. Or girls will keep doing that. What if they start chasing you? How will you fight them? You're just a Dad. I know you're an alien. But you're still just a Dad. You don't have no skills. I gotta get ready for school."

Leon Kennedy didn't have no skills. What a hard lesson.

Leon glanced at Gigi. She gave him a very cool expression, judging him. He laughed, shaking his head, "What? You don't like my hair?"

She grabbed a handful and giggled.

Yup. Girls loved the hair.

The next sad moment for the man who'd once single-handedly stopped a cult and saved the President's daughter, came with trying to load Gigi into the seat of the car outside. Claire had taken his Jeep, forcing him to drive her small navy colored Sedan. Leon stared at the baby seat like it was a room full of lasers trying to sheer off his flesh. If he turned wrong, would he lose a finger?

It was more complicated than a series of switches complete with robots trying to kill him. He couldn't figure out how to open the damn thing to put the baby in.

Beside him, Ben mused, "Click the red button and lift the top Dad."

He did, and the seat lifted. Surprised, Leon set the bundled up baby in the seat. She stared at him, silently judging his inadequacy as he tried to fumble the latches back on her.

Ben said, "Take her jacket off Dad, so she'll fit."

Right. Durf. He did, tossing it on the seat. She slid into the harness and Leon secured her. She cooed, batting her lashes at him. Lord. He could be a fumbling fuck up and the girls still loved him. Clearly, it was the hair.

Ben said, "It's ok. We'll figure it out. I'll help you."

Leon laughed and shook his head, "Thanks dude. No man left behind?"

"Nope."

Leon claimed the driver's seat and started down the street. Ben gave directions and they made it to daycare with the baby. As he took her out of the seat to hand her off, the pretty woman who took her smiled sweetly at him, "Good morning, Mr. Kennedy. It's...good to see you."

What was that? That undercurrent. She rolled her lip under and winked at him.

He paused, blinking, and wondered if they were having an affair. As he handed Gigi to her, she rubbed his arm. There was something happening there, that was for sure.

Curious about it, he remarked, "How are you? You look good."

She giggled and shrugged, "I could be better. Will I see you at the bowling alley later?"

Yep. Something was happening here. He shrugged, "Probably. There's a game tonight?"

"The big one. The championship. See you at seven?" She cuddled Gigi to her, giving him OBVIOUS "come fuck me" eyes. He was kind of irritated at his other self. Really?

Really?

You had CLAIRE at home and you went out with this run of the mill desperate housewife? REALLY!?

Annoyed at his other self, Leon smiled woodenly at her, "Sounds good. Go team right?"

He climbed in the car, muttering. He asked Ben, "Do I get a pick up receipt for Gigi? Or what?"

Ben gave him a wide eyed look, "You just come get her when the day is done, Dad. I think."

"Got it." Leon drove out of the line, watching the ass of the women who'd flirted. She wasn't ugly. She was just a pretty thing with a wandering eye. Was he? Was he cheating on his "wife"?

He tapped the steering wheel with annoyance as he rolled up to Ben's school. The boy paused and finally said, "You're doing a good job, Dad. For an alien."

A huge compliment, to be sure. Leon winked at him. "Thanks, bud. See you after school."

"Yep. Don't forget about Gigi."

He laughed and waved and called, "Ben?"

"Yeah?" The boy lifted his brows. He was a good looking kid, no getting around that.

"Where do I work?"

Ben gave him a small smile, "The highschool, Dad. But it's closed. Mom? She works with Uncle Chris. At the station."

Shit. SHIT. Claire worked at the station. The station was still there. He was in fucking Raccoon City. It was surreal. He waved again and drove off. He was possibly cheating on his wife while living in Raccoon City.

It was insane.

But wasn't his life?

He shot across town in the little Sedan and the drive was easy. Why? He remembered everything about it. The whole thing. The long curves, the turns, the shops. He could see it all, before the fall and after it. What if he had a chance here to change fate?

What if he had a chance to stay here and never live that long night?

Would he take it?

What good would it do if he always remembered the horror?

Would he trade everything he was for the chance at something real?

He rolled the car into the lot of the R.P.D. and leaped out, looking with raw trepidation at the familiar building. It wasn't burning. It wasn't boiling with infection. It was just standing there in the cold air.

He moved into the lobby mired in deja vu. There were no zombies. There were no lickers. He didn't come face to face in a bastard in a hat trying to kill him. Birkin didn't burst out of the bullpen and roll his large eye at him.

He was just a guy in a station looking for his wife.

The very dead Marvin Branagh was there. He waved, happily. The disgusting pervert that was Chief Irons was there - apparently having never been discovered as a necrophiliac pedophile, seeing as there was no apocalypse for him to be outed. He was talking to Claire and touching her waist.

Leon narrowed his eyes, gritting his teeth. Disgusting bastard. How was he hiding his fetish? He'd once had the dead body of the Mayor's daughter in his office missing her guts. He was trying to stuff her - both euphemistically and literally. He'd tried to rape Claire when he'd come upon her in the garage. Rape. He'd tried to RAPE Claire.

How was he hiding that monster he was inside?

Apparently, Albert Wesker was as well. This wasn't an alternate universe, it was hell. Hell had Irons and Wesker side by side serving the city they'd destroyed in tandem, once upon a time.

Disgusted, Leon started to call out to his wife, and froze. She was waylaid by a hand on her arm. The man himself: Wesker. He took her arm above the elbow and steered her to the side. She spoke low and earnest.

Leon watched them, feeling the roll of it in his guts. Wesker leaned too close. She leaned away, shaking her head. And Leon was still Leon. Maybe it wasn't his world, but some things didn't change.

He read her lips. She said, "That's done. You hear me? That's done."

He blinked. Maybe it wasn't him. Maybe it was her. Was Claire having an affair with Albert Wesker? She'd called him Albert at the house. Albert. So familiar.

She jerked her arm away. She turned. She saw him in the lobby.

She went pale.

He was kinda afraid Claire was having an affair with Albert Wesker.

She hurried down into the lobby, grinning, "Hey! What are you doing here?"

He hadn't yet taken his eyes off Wesker. Apparently, there were more benefits to being in this world. He'd missed the opportunity to force feed that megalomaniac mountain of narcissistic psychosis a fist full of justice in his world. Maybe he was being given a glimpse of what life looked like when you could finally make amends.

Maybe he'd get his chance here to beat the living piss out of Albert Wesker.

Without pulling words, Leon asked her, "You cheating on me?"

What had she said the night before? He hadn't looked at her in so long. Was he cheating? Were they both? Is that why there was that constant look of surprise on her face when he touched her?

Had his other self driven her away and into the arms of Redfield's greatest enemy?

Surely not.

Surely he wasn't that shitty of a husband.

But Claire clutched his arm and steered him around the desk in the lobby to the quiet office beside it. She closed the door, swiftly. She took two deep breaths and said, "Why would you ask me that?"

He shook his head, "I saw you. I saw you up there. Don't treat me like I'm stupid."

She shook her head, saying, "I'm not. I'm not. Lower your voice please."

He sighed, putting his hands in his back pockets. "Come on, Claire, you sleeping around?"

She tilted her head at him, "No. No I'm not. Would you care if I was?" And that hurt. Because he wasn't sure she didn't have a legitimate reason to ask. He didn't know. But he was betting his other self had been fucking awful - just by ignoring her.

She paused, winced, and said, "I thought about it. We...it's harmless. It is. It's harmless. He just has this edge. He's intense. I have never touched him. Ever. But yesterday, at the house, things with you and I...it just felt better, ya know? It felt good. I started to feel guilty. I told him this morning to just...stop. To stop. He didn't handle it real well."

Leon rubbed his mouth, volleying his eyes over her face. "That's it. That's everything?"

"It is." She touched his arm, "I am sorry. I feel awful. But I swear it wasn't physical."

That made it WORSE somehow. She was having an emotional affair with the godfather of destruction. He gave her a heavy sigh, "I don't make you happy."

At least they could acknowledge it. Here and now. It wasn't even him. His other self? Was failing her in everyway.

She sighed, looking so sad, "You're tired. You're busy. Your dad Died and you just...stopped. You just stopped. I thought it was me. I thought it was us. And then yesterday? You just...woke up."

Leon nodded, cupping her face, "I'm figuring this out. I am. I'm here now. I wish..." What did he wish? That he'd had her from the beginning? That she'd never been sad with the other dead version of him? Yeah. Right now? That's exactly what he wished.

He kissed her, hard, and stepped back, "I'll fix it. You hear me? I'll fix it. Just...trust me."

She gripped his forearm. "I've always trusted you. Always. I should have talked to you. I tried...you just...weren't here."

That hurt. It wasn't even him, not really. And that hurt. Was he a fucking robot in this life? That was done. He wasn't here to glimpse anymore. He was here to fix. At the end of the day, Leon Kennedy fixed things. It's what he did.

It started with him.

He kissed her again, shaking his head, "I'm sorry. That's done. You and me? I'll make you love me again."

She gripped his forearm, "Leon...I've always loved you. I never gave up on the idea that you'd come back to me. I was just..." She trailed off.

He kissed her forehead and stepped back, nodding, "Lonely. You were lonely. I was a bad husband to you, Claire. But that's done. I promise."

He turned out of the office, moving toward the stairs. Wesker met him halfway, with that stupid blank expression backed by cold. He didn't even flinch when Leon leaned in, close enough to whisper.

Leon said, quietly, "You look at her again, I'll shove those empty eyes up your ass until you're as blind as you are stupid."

Wesker shook his head, looking amused. "You think you can keep her? You're a joke. A punchline in a bad gag. A pathetic shadow of what you could have been. You were a cop for one day and loser for the rest of your life. I don't have to take her from you, Mr. Kennedy, because you lost her the second you let yourself go."

Leon flashed a grin, wolfish and sharp, "Maybe you're right. But the thing is Wesker? You don't really know me. Not really. We've never really met. The guy you think you know? He's dead. This one?"

He winked, slow and demeaning, "He doesn't know how to give up. You wanna fight? You don't know who the hell you're dealing with. I protect what's mine."

Wesker tilted his head, like a curious dog. "You threatening me?"

"Just letting you know - that pathetic guy you're talking about? He's finished. I killed him. You touch her? You'll join him." Leon stepped closer and Wesker either had to back up or let him. He let him and they were nose to nose. "Keep your fucking hands off my wife."

A curious thing, this need to assert his place in a world that wasn't his. But he'd woken beside her, he'd woken inside her...and he just wanted to stay there. He was going to make the most of whatever time he had there.

It started with being who he was in a world that wasn't his.

He let Albert Wesker glimpse the real Leon Kennedy. That one? It had spent a lifetime coveting Claire Redfield. It had spent a lifetime beside her, unworthy. Now? He had her. He was holding on.

The thing about Leon Kennedy? It was wrong to underestimate him. Because he never let you down.

When it mattered? He never let go.

Even if the world he was living in...wasn't really his.