A/N: This is one from the end on this little guy. The humor really leaves us here as we start to see the threads tie together toward the end of his glimpse. Thank you for all comments and the encouragement. Before we reach the end, drop me a comment and see if you can guess how it will end or give me your thoughts on what's next for our hero. After all, not everything has to end happily ever after.

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 Nine:

Never Enough

Raccoon City - 2006

Truth is sometimes the thing that is most elusive in the great wide world. It's often subjective, curiously misinterpreted, or cleverly concealed. For Leon Kennedy, it was also impossible to determine.

For a man with an IQ that someone had jokingly called "practically a genius" (his last IQ test had put him a single point behind the genius mark), the truth was a thing he was having trouble holding onto. What was real? What was the lie? What world was really his world?

Had he fallen asleep and dreamed his entire life?

Was he a man who'd only imagined, after playing a video game, that he was a hero in a world ripe with bioterror?

Was he, and had he always been, just a principle?

Unsure, Leon shifted in his chair at his desk. The longer he spent here, the more he questioned himself. What was his world? Was this his world? Had he been so far down the depression ladder that he'd, literally, dreamed away most of his life? Was he Leon S. Kennedy - super hero? Or was he Leon Kennedy - highschool principle, police academy drop out, and potbellied poor excuse of a husband?

The pen he tapped on his desk had no answers.

Before he could do much in the way of thinking of it, there was a shout from outside his office, "Leon! Hurry!"

A familiar feeling sprang through him at the urgency in her tone and the adrenaline shot like a needle in the chest as he was spurred from his chair and into the hallway at a run.

Two boys were in the fight of their lives against each other. One was a brute - huge and muscular, an athlete clearly who was likely abusing steroids to try to fulfill his college ambitions - the kind who would peek in high school and probably end up working at a gas station for the rest of his adult life. He was beating the shit out of a regular boy with glasses and a tuba - the Leon Kennedy nerd of the bunch, who would likely become a super hero when he filled out and ditched puberty.

The cheering and taunting abated the second he emerged but the crowd didn't disperse even as he moved to wade in.

He lodged himself between the two of them as the smaller boy went for a groin kick and the bigger kid reared back for a bitch slap.

Leon shouted, "ENOUGH!" And put himself between them. When they struggled around him, grunting like animals, he shoved against them both growling, "I said KNOCK IT OFF!"

And Peeked in Highschool shouted, "I'll KNOCK HIS DICK OFF!"

Jesus. God save him from the roids. Where was Redfield when he needed him to give a speech about the dangers of using?

And the smaller kid taunted, "I'd do the same but you'd have to find it first!"

Yep. Definitely a baby Leon in the making. He just didn't know when the fuck to shut his mouth.

Leon saw it coming. He did. But, in his defense, he didn't think a kid would actually be stupid enough to take a swing with the principle standing in the way. So he got a fistful of an angry teenage wrath right in the mouth. The regular kid immediately retreated, shouting, "HOLY SHIT! You punched Mr. Kennedy!"

And Peeked in Highschool roared, "He should have got his fat ass outta my way!"

Well that was enough of that. Leon rose with a mouthful of blood and meant to assert his authority by sending the damn kid to in school suspension, but a strange thing happened. The kid swung again, as enraged youth will often do, and he just...missed. Leon shifted and the fist hit the locker with a clang of steel. His hands moved as he gripped the wrist and the extended arm, murmured, softly, "There's nothing I hate more than hopped up assholes beating on anything smaller than them. I believe I said enough."

The boy spat, shaking with rage, "What are you gonna do old man? You're just like him...a fucking LOSER."

"Kid, you're about as dumb as a boulder punch."

Leon's boot shifted, it smashed down on the kid's instep. He roared with rage as Leon wrenched his arm to throw him off balance, jerked and turned, and launched the kid over his left shoulder. He hip tossed him, like it was nothing, like it was something he did every single day.

Because he did.

He did.

In another life.

As the boy flew, the laughter supporting him stifled. It trailed off. It deadened. The boy rolled to a stop on the floor and Leon jerked him to his feet to slam him back against the locker. "Next time you pick on someone half your size, remember that high school doesn't last forever. Eventually - the roids wear off. And the nerds have a tendency to grow up to rule the world."

He shoved the kid one more time with a crossbar of his arm across the chest and security finally arrived to take him away.

The hallway was filled with silence as he turned. The regular kid finally broke it by breathing, "Mr. Kennedy...that was fucking SICK."

He shook his head, sighing. But Sherry was staring at him with something like shock. He said nothing as he crossed by her to his office. He barely shut the door before his hands grabbed his desk and he bared down, hard, until the wood groaned under the assault.

That wasn't a principle out there.

It wasn't a normal guy.

It was fast, smooth, efficient - it was training. Whatever he'd forgotten...his body remembered.

He whispered, determinedly, "Nope. Just instinct. That's all it was. Instinct."

Did he think the universe would disagree with him?

The silence of the room was his only answer.

Gigi said her first word at dinner that night. It was through a mouthful of peas that she shouted, "SHIT!" at the top of her lungs when Leon informed her that she was nothing but trouble for the mess she'd made.

It gave Claire pause at the stove as she turned and gave him a pointed look.

He feigned deafness as he picked at his potatos and Ben came to his rescue, "Gigi, sheesh, that's trash talk! Save that for when you have a fist fight. You had one today, right, Dad? Did you use trash talk during it?"

Leon winced.

Claire turned again to stare at him. "You did what?"

And Sherry joined the fray as she flounced into the room in a huge army green jacket and ripped tights. She looked like Courtney Love and Kurt Cobain's love child. "Dad got into a huge fight with Ronnie the Roid Rager this afternoon."

Claire blinked twice, "The kid that looks like he swallowed a house?"

Sherry nodded gleefully, "Oh, yeah. The weird thing?"

Claire put a plate down for Sherry and gained her own seat, wiping gunk off Gigi's mouth as she did. "What's the weird thing?"

"Dad just..." She made a whistling sound and used her hands to signal shooting punching, "Kicked his ass."

Claire looked like someone had just told her that she was staring in her own stories where she fucked a tyrant. She had, he'd read a few of them, and had to admit the image was horrorifying. But she sounded so surprised as her voice lilted highly, "Leon!?"

Seriously?

What kind of a douche was he?

To answer that, Sherry remarked, "I know! The same guy who can't even throw a punch without falling over. You should have seen him, he was like a different dude."

It was official - in this life, there was nothing redeeming about him. He couldn't shoot. He couldn't fight. He couldn't fuck. He was fat, lazy, stupid and selfish. He had good hair and too many girlfriends and a wife he didn't deserve. He had adorable kids that seemed to like him, and a dog that never left his side.

But he was just a man. A man. A simple, slightly paunchy, parody of himself written by the universe in a way that was almost as hard to swallow as the image of himself in flagrante delicto with Chris Redfield between his legs. He looked around to see if the heinous Frost Lady was somewhere secretly crafting this asinine tale of his own destruction because he was starting to think the universe was trying to make a mockery out of his life. But which life? The one he was in? The one he remembered?

What world was his world?

He was ripping down the middle as he tried to make sense of it.

No. No. He knew this was his life. This was. This one. He'd gotten Claire pregnant. He had a basement filled with video games that EXACTLY DESCRIBED the life he remembered. That life had been his Glimpse. This one? This was him waking up.

It was his second chance to make it right here.

It was that simple.

Over Claire's head, the face of Ada Wong was judging him. She was sitting on the counter watching them eat. She tilted her head, "Do you really believe that?"

He ignored her, feeling the claws of fear latch into his heart. He did. He had to. He had to believe it.

Or he wasn't sure he'd survive the other choice.

Claire glanced at him and mused, "You been keeping secrets from me?"

He shook his head, trying to find his voice under the lump in his throat, "Every guy can throw a punch, Claire."

Sherry snorted, "You can't. You hit like a girl."

Leon grit his teeth, "Just because I don't pick fights with rocks like Redfield, doesn't mean I can't."

Claire laughed, musically, "Come on, honey. You know you can't figure out how to even make a fist without tucking your thumb in."

He hated women. He did. They were so cruel. Sherry giggled a bit and added, "And that one time you tried to fight Uncle Chris and ended up wrapped into a human pretzel sniffing your own ass."

Claire cautioned, "Sherry, language."

"Sorry. For the record though? Hilarious."

In this life he was the nerd. He was the nerd getting his ass kicked by the jock on steroids. He was the loser. He was. It was mortifying.

But Ben filled the void by saying, "Uncle Chris is a bully! Anybody can be a bully! A real man knows when to fight and when to walk away!"

The silence stretched long and hard around the table. Embarassed, Claire cleared her throat, "...you are absolutely right. We owe your Dad an apology."

But Sherry shrugged, "Why? Truth hurts. Dad's great...but he's not a fighter. There's no shame in that. If this was the Walking Dead, Dad would be Eugene instead of Rick. There's nothing wrong with that."

Claire added, supportively, "Or Commissioner Gordon!"

Sherry piped in, "Or what's his face in those games you're always playing...Carlos? You know, handsome, says corny shit, but doesn't let you down?"

There was no way to take it back. It was out there. In this world, he was somehow the support. He was Alfred the Butler. A secondary act. A joke. A useless lothario like Carlos Oliveira.

Claire shrugged, "You can't all be Dante, babe."

And there it was. He was no Dante from Devil May Cry. He was a shadow of that. A stereotypical middle aged patriarch of a nice family.

Leon shook his head, rising from the table. Behind Claire, Ada shimmered and remarked, "See? You can't be happy here. You're not YOU here, Leon. Let this go. Wake up."

He almost snarled it, softly, "...fuck off."

Claire went wide eyed. Sherry stopped eating in mid bite. "...dude, I'm sorry."

He shook his head again, "No...it's-not you. Never mind. Just..." He slipped out the room.

And Ben rolled his eyes, "Look what you did! You bullies!...women."

He stared at himself in the mirror until he nearly went blind. The ghost of Ada appeared behind him, apparently sent there to taunt him.

"Tell me what you want." He spoke softly, urgently. He knew, he had to know, he was running out of time here.

Ada cocked her head, "What do I want? What do you want, honey? You're here. You're dreaming. This is your glimpse. Wake up. Let this go and wake up. This isn't your life."

He shook his head, "No. No. This is my life. This is it. What came before was the dream."

Ada tilted her head the other way, "Do you really believe that?"

He nodded, closing his eyes and squeezing them. "You're not real. It wasn't real. It's just me...cracking or something. I'm losing my mind. This isn't a dream. It can't be. I can feel her. I can smell her. I can laugh with them and love them and hold them. That can't be a lie, Ada. It has to be real."

"Does it?" Hands slid against his face and he could smell her again - Shalimar and cherry blossoms. She pressed herself between the sink and against him. Her mouth nipped at his and drew a small sound of fear from him.

"See, Leon?" She purred it, "What's real? I'm dead. But here I am. You can smell me, hear me...taste me."

She nuzzled open his mouth to kiss him. His hands shifted to her arms to pin her to the sink but he kissed her back. The taste of her was something he'd always remember. The hate and want of her fired through his blood like poison.

Ada let go of the kiss and whispered, "See? What's real, Leon? All the want in the world doesn't make it real."

His eyes opened. His breath hitched. She kept hold of his face as he whispered, "I can't go back. I can't. I'll die there."

She looked at him sadly, but steadily and returned, "Maybe you already are."

Jesus.

His heart thumped, hard, behind his breast bone. Was he? Was he dead? Was he lost? But he whispered, "Then let me stay."

She kissed him again, gently, "Leon...it's not my choice. All of this...all of it...it's yours."

He clenched his eyes again. Her mouth shifted to his ear and her breath was warm against it as she added, softly, "Even superheroes die, Leon."

When he opened his eyes, she was gone.

And he was once again staring at a stranger in the mirror.

Things started to unravel a piece at a time.

It was a flicker of murky light that spread along the road and turned it silver. It was Gigi's laughter turning hollow and tinny until her face cracked and spilled like shattered glass until it reformed. It was Sherry's excitement at getting her driver's license turning dark as he lost a chunk of time and woke up on the ground with her above him pale faced and scared.

He taught Ben to ride a bike. He finally saw the end of his blubber gut. He stood at Claire's side at their first ultrasound and found out the baby was healthy. The heart palpitations started after that.

He was driving home and his heart just - stopped.

It seized in his chest. He lost control of the wheel and Claire grabbed it to steer them to the side of the road. Concerned, she called 911. He spent an afternoon in the hospital and went home with a diagnosis of acute anxiety disorder.

So now he was a nerd and a hypochondriac.

The joy continued.

The flashbacks happened randomly. He was throwing the ball with the dog and she caught it but another dog decided it was a good time to get in a scuffle with her. A fight ensued and the owner was afraid one would get hurt.

He waded into a fight with two dogs and wrangled the big one off his. He held it down until it's owner could restrain it. He wrestled a fucking dog and came out without a scratch.

A dickhead father at Ben's soccer game decided to pick a fight. There was the black out moment where Leon came back to himself with the other man in a head lock with people screaming. Ben regaled him with a story of how he'd fought Todd's dad "LIKE A BOSS!"

Ben began to believe that Leon was, indeed, a bad ass on his other planet.

At the range, he was improving, but not well enough. Until Redfield started shooting his mouth off one afternoon. It was the third time Leon was called "as blind as he was pretty" that he picked up the gun on the table between them and turned.

He put three into the eyes of the target and shifted, blasting apart the face of the one beside it. Without missing a beat, he turned the gun and fired one more time. There was a delay in sound before it hit. It took out the streetlight with a tinkle of breaking glass...at least three hundred yards away.

The gun tumbled out of his hands and plopped on the grass. Chris stared at him.

Jill rubbed her belly with her eyes wide.

Barry Burton hooted happily and slapped his back, "There he is! Remember when this kid had the best scores anyone had ever seen off a rookie!? Incredible. Is that gun still smoking?"

Leon turned on his heel and left the range.

He shook his head and glanced at his hands. They were shaking.

He was almost to his car when that taunting voice called to him, "You think because you've slimmed down and learned how to shoot she'll still love you? Ask yourself this - you had a vasectomy right? Then how the hell did you get your wife pregnant? You ever wonder who's baby she's carrying?"

It was the wrong time for Albert Wesker to challenge him.

It just was.

He turned and his fist whistled as it missed the other man by an inch. Wesker pummeled him twice in his exposed side for it. Leon countered and tried to elbow him in the face but it just got him a slap to his own that felt more insulting than painful.

He staggered, Wesker kicked him from the hip while he did it, and Leon hit the wall as he tumbled.

"Sucks doesn't it, Kennedy? Knowing I had her a thousand times while you were too busy being too blind to see it? She tastes like cherries between her thighs. She mewls like a kitten when she cums. But I'm guessing you wouldn't know about that...since she told me she's NEVER had an orgasm with you. Is it hard being a sniveling excuse of a man? Don't worry, when she finally leaves you, I'll take care of your kids like they're my own. You know...she used to call you her hero. How the mighty have fallen."

Wesker swung at him - and the world blackened.

He could feel it happen - the arm that came for him, the moment he caught the fist and stopped it. He reared back and headed butted the other man. They clashed like titans, pounding on each other in a way that the world likely should have collapsed around them in fire and brimstone. Whatever else was true, Albert Wesker was a hell of a pugilist. He fought like he died - burning alive in an endless inferno screaming in rage.

It was Claire screaming that brought the dark off his eyes.

Leon had the former Captain of the S.T.A.R.S. at the top of a flight of stairs, poised to kick him down them.

Claire shouted, "LEON! NO!"

The world shimmered like a humid day. His hands loosened, and Wesker took his moment.

His boot lifted and kicked Leon hard in the knee.

As Leon reeled, the other man backhanded him, gripped his belt and the back of his shirt and threw him down the stairs. Claire shouted in rage. People were running.

Leon rolled down the steps and protected himself as best as he could.

When he hit the bottom, Wesker was rolling him over and taunting, "Yeah...some fucking hero."

The moment he rolled him, Leon straight finger jabbed him right in the throat. Wesker reeled, gagging, and Leon hammered him twice in the nose with the heel of his hand. It crunched, throwing blood everywhere. Wesker staggered and Leon kicked him twice in the chest as he scissored his legs and leaped easily to his feet.

They circled each other like lions and Wesker spit blood on the ground, "So maybe not just a pretty face, huh?"

Leon laughed, rolling his neck. "I am still. You? You look like shit, old man. Quit flapping your lips and let's see how fucking ugly you can get before we're done."

"...you don't have the balls to finish me off, Kennedy. You never did."

"Yeah?" Leon tilted his head, "Because I've already fed you yours, you stupid bastard. Come get another taste."

Wesker charged him. Leon braced for it. And the formerly dead former Captain tackled him around the waist. Leon skidded as he held his feet, caught him around the hips and threw himself backward. The momentum lifted the other man up and sent them both to their backs on the concrete. As they hit, they both lost their breath.

Claire shouted, "FOR GOD'S SAKE STOP!"

And Leon rolled to his feet faster than Wesker.

A small victory, but a big one. As the other man struggled to his knees, Leon gripped his throat and spit, "You even look at her, ever again, and I'll make sure the only thing you ever fuck again will be yourself. I will rip your dick off and fuck you to death with it. I should kill you."

Claire froze as she drew close. Chris was beside her, wide eyed and staring.

Wesker laughed, spitting blood on the ground. His glasses were broken and useless on the concrete beside them. "It won't change the truth - I was the man your wife needed...and you never were. We both know who's baby she's carrying."

Leon flung him away, shaking his head with a laugh. "You're not even worth it. Once upon a time, you were a guy who was going to conquer the world...now? You're just a pathetic pervert who can't even satisfy his own wife...so you try to validate yourself by going after everyone else's. Take a look in the mirror, Al. I think we both know who the real failure is."

Wesker staggered a bit as he got to one knee, "Do we? Keep telling yourself that while you're plowing that belly full of my seed."

The slap was loud. It echoed. It rang. Claire slapped him down like she'd kill him with it. Wesker took it, putting a hand on the concrete as she nearly tossed him sideways with it.

And she spat, "How dare you...it's one thing to be a bastard...it's another to be a liar. I hope you burn in hell."

She grabbed Leon's hand and jerked him away across the parking lot. Little did she knew, the actual Wesker was, indeed, burning in hell somewhere. And the last fucking he'd ever gotten was an RPG crammed sideways up his ass.

Fuming, she whispered, "I'm so sorry. Are you alright? Did he hurt you?"

Leon shivered as they reached his car. He gripped the top of it as the world fractured and shimmered. It was like looking at her through a half dozen rainbows.

He spoke, urgently now, "Claire...listen to me...listen...I don't know how much time I have."

"What? What's wrong? Did you hit your head?"

"No...just listen...please. If there's-if there's any chance at all that somehow, anyhow, you remember me...just..." His hand touched her belly. It skimmed. Claire grabbed his face. "It's never enough, Claire. Ever. I should have gone with you. That day...I should have gone with you."

She shook her head, fading in and out, "What does that mean? What does it mean, Leon? What are you saying?"

Sitting on the roof of his car, Ada mused, "Say goodbye, Leon."

And he whispered, "I need more time. Please."

Claire shook her head, looking desperate, "You hit your head or something. I'll get help. Stay here."

"No. No! Claire listen...I don't have any time. I'm out of time. Tell Ben...tell him-" His voice cracked and he begged, "Please...not yet. Another day."

Ada shook her head, sadly. "I'm sorry. It doesn't work that way."

"Damnit...please. ANOTHER MINUTE!"

"I'm sorry. I am. When it's over, it's over. You know that."

He grabbed Claire to him. The baby in her belly gave at thump to his palm to signal it's presence. His heart jerked. Claire gasped, "Oh god...Leon!"

And down he went to the ground. She was shouting for help.

Ada tilted her head, "Always so dramatic. Wake up, Leon. It's time."

He gasped, his heart seizing. "I can't...I can't! I can't! What do you want!? What will it take!? I'll give you anything!"

And Ada shrugged, "This is good. Get through those stages, baby. Already onto bargaining huh? Wake up, Leon. AND LET GO."

"Daddy!"

Ben threw himself bodily atop him. Sherry and the baby stood over him weeping. His hands grasped at the boy, "I love you. Ben? I love you."

And the boy wept, "Please...stay. I'll be better. I'll help you. Don't leave me!"

But it wasn't his choice. Didn't they know that? It wasn't his choice!

Claire was screaming, "CHRIS! ANYONE! OH GOD! CHRIS!"

And Leon gasped, "...Claire..."

The black folded over him. It ate away at his mind. Ada's whisper slid wet and hot against his ear, "Even heroes die, Leon."

The dog leaned over him, white and blue, white and perfect. She licked his face.

And he woke up in the steady shimmer of darkness.

A truck horn sounded. His bike skidded on the wet road. He went down on his side and lost it. It threw sparks and screamed with metal. His body rolled into the grass and stopped.

He stopped.

He wasn't in the bottom of a canyon dying. He wasn't in a bedroom with Claire beside him sleeping. He was still him. He was still a bad ass. He was still in a world where he was the hero.

He was alone.

He wasn't dead...but he wanted to be.

He put his face in his hands and wept.

Post Note: There's one more chapter on this wonderful little tale. Let's see how our hero comes full circle, shall we?