Whew! I'm terrible, aren't I? I think so... I'm sorry you guys had to wait that long for this short of a chapter, so I'll be getting the next chapter up hopefully faster. Kay? Alright, well you guys enjoy! R&R please, they bring me rapturous joy.

That had been over a month ago.

A great rustling was all to be heard as a pair of soft blue sheets hit the battered hard wood floor of a rural Washington apartment. A pair of toned legs swung over the edge of the bed, perching just next to where the discarded sheets lay. The man groaned lowly, bending over and placing his elbows on his knees, then cupping his face. His ash blonde hair cascaded messily over his rough hands as his palms slowly moved up to meet his forehead.

Leon sighed. Another nightmare had plagued the ex-cops dreams that night, as they had been for the past six years. Always the same nightmare, always the same uneasiness and loneliness that followed. His rough hands roamed to his temples, where he began to caress the tender tissue there. Why did he have to re-live that hell every night? Why couldn't he have just one night of solitude and peace?

Why was he doomed to watch his butterfly die for the rest of his days?

Leon stood clumsily, letting the tiny specks of dizziness dance behind his eyes before advancing. The agent bent down with a groan, picking up his neglected sheets and tossing them back onto the bed. He ran the back of a shaky hand across his forehead to wipe away the sweat lingering there. There was a whimper from the living room of his small apartment. A small thud resounded to the tired agent's ears, then the 'pat pat' of what he knew to be his large canine companion.

Leon smiled wearily and a large German Sheppard stopped in his open doorway. The large beast cocked its head. The dog was bigger than any normal kin of its breed, showing a magnificent display of muscles rippling beneath its skin. Its fur was slightly longer that it should have been on the back of its neck and tail. Leon had saved this creature in a raid on a dog-fighting case when he was a puppy. The previous, and abusive, owner had bragged about how the beast was half wolf. Leon had a special bond with the animals he owned, and this German Sheppard-Wolf was no different. He knew the animal was trying to ask him 'are you alright?'

"I'm fine, Grindel. Just had that dream again." He spoke lowly as he walked over to the dog. Grindel was wagging his bushy tail in a sympathetic manner, his ears halfway drooped. Leon swiped a hand over the canine's head and rubbed behind his large ears affectionately. "Common boy, lets get a snack," the agent laughed as Grindel jumped excitedly and barked deeply and loudly. Leon pointed a finger at his muzzle.

"Nah-ah. Inside voice." The dog lowered his ears and followed his master, quickly trotting behind him and perking his ears back up.

The apartment was small. One bedroom, two bathrooms, living room and a kitchen. Their journey was over in three great strides of Leon 's long and muscular legs. Grindel happily made his way to a corner of the small kitchen, where the dog knew he was not in his master's way. Leon yawned widely as he reached up into a cabinet above his fridge, revealing a wide variety of liquor. The agent grabbed a clear bottle with a chestnut colored liquid inside. Leon had forgotten what drink this was merely hours after ripping off the label accidentally, but at this point, he really didn't care. It got him drunk. He heard a disapproving whimper from his companion below. Bottle in hand, Leon glance over his shoulder curiously.

Grindel was inches away, whining with his ears down. The ex-cop looked sadly at the dog, turning to face him. The Sheppard pawed lightly at the bottle, emitting a small bark as his claws raked the glass. The blonde crouched down on one knee and set down the bottle beside him. He took the dog's large head in his hands, stroking the bottom of his chin affectionately. Grindel's ears remained plastered to his head. Leon sighed.

"I know you don't approve, buddy. But you know I have sleep issues," Leon explained to the Sheppard, who continued to stare judgmentally. The blonde sighed again, ruffling the dog's short fur in between his ears. He grabbed the bottle and stood, watching Grindel lie down in defeat. Leon didn't bother to grab a glass and walked to the other side of the kitchen, opening a glass container filled to the rim with treats. The Sheppard quickly stood as the sound reverberated in the small apartment. The ex-cop lazily tossed a bacon-shaped treat down to his waiting canine companion. Grindel caught the treat with a quick snap of his head, earning a chuckle from Leon .

The agent sighed deeply as the dog chomped happily away at his prize and made his way to the living room. There wasn't much to the small apartment. Two leather couches blocked the way, one sitting against the wall and the other placed in the opening. A small wooden coffee table rested comfortably in front of them and a moderate sized flat screen television tucked snuggly in the far corner of the room. Two paintings hung on adjourning walls. The room itself was a soft baby blue and the carpet a dull grey. The wall parallel to the entrance was mostly window with a short balcony accessible only from Leon 's bedroom. White drapes cascaded down the large windows gracefully, only feebly managing to block out little light. Though, at this time of night, it didn't matter.

Leon plopped himself down on the couch in the middle of the room, casually resting his legs on the coffee table. He thumbed off the twist cap of the bottle with ease, flicking the golden metal to the ground. The agent sighed again sadly, propping his left arm on the armrest and leaning into his palm, balancing the bottle on his right thigh. The aroma of the chestnut liquor slowly began to waft lazily into his nostrils, begging him to take a sip and to indulge in its sinful pleasures. Leon obliged. Plastering his tongue to the bottom of his mouth, he poured the sour liquid in his awaiting mouth, trying his best not to taste the bitterness it produced. With his throat poised open, the agent drank a hefty amount until he decided it was time to breathe.

He inhaled shakily, the fumes of liquor making it difficult to breathe. Leon fought the urge to cough, slowly taking in small bits of air through his nose. He finally took in a large gulp of air and sighed. The ex-cop looked on the adjacent couch to see Grindel staring at him, his large head resting on his just as large paws. The Sheppard seemed to be judging him. Leon glanced back to the bottle, noticing that he had chugged a good fourth of the bottle. He sighed, gagging lightly on the potent fumes on his breath.

Leon swirled the liquid around in the bottle slightly, making it dance around the edges of the rectangular container. He sighed again, licking his lips before taking another hefty sized swig. He gasped hastily for air and began to down the last fourth of the bottle.

The agent sputtered suddenly, a mouthful of the liquor spraying all over him. He began to cough uncontrollably and Grindel whined in confusion. Leon slammed the near-empty bottle on the coffee table with his eyes wide in fear as he dashed to his bathroom.

The water was cold now.

There was a feminine sigh as the water was choked off from life and the showerhead began to sputter a few last drips. The inhabitant of the shower slowly stepped her way off the tiled floor into the main bathroom area, grabbing a plush white towel on the counter. The woman quickly dried herself and ran the towel over her short black hair a few times before glimpsing herself in the mirror. It was not fogged up due to the design of the spacious bathroom.

The Eurasian figure staring back at woman slightly startled her. She looked exhausted and beaten. Ada sighed, it wasn't a surprise. She had just gotten back from a long and tiring recon mission in the Northern city of France , Calais . The city was known for its overlook of the Straight of Dover. Ada had been sent to spy on a previous and sketchy Umbrella employee that was skipping all over the world with Umbrella's research. The rat was known as Viktor Vaskov, a former underling scientist who had somehow gotten his hands on very top secret information and data before the Pharmaceutical giant collapsed. All Ada had been assigned to do was to see if he made any transactions and if he did, to find out with who.

She sighed. The mission had been rather boring. She had sat perched atop a small abandoned apartment complex for hours in the freezing snow watching him in his hotel room. He had ordered room service to bring him his food, watched television, done things Ada wished she hadn't seen, and eventually left the building. As she tracked him, he met up with Tricell representative in a nearby park. They talked for quite a while in thick Russian that Ada could barely understand, switched briefcases, and left.

What an Exciting day.

Ada slowly made her way back into the main den of her large suite after wrapping a thick bathrobe around herself. It was surely a magnificent hotel. The carpet was a rich red and the walls a soothing crème color. Two red velvet couches and a single matching chair circled a small glass coffee table in front of a fireplace. Various paintings of Harbors and Ferries adorned the wall. The spy walked over to one of the couches and promptly threw herself upon one.

Her sleek silver laptop hummed quietly to life as she opened the lid and waited for it to resume. Her mail came into view with a few websites she had pulled up out of boredom, and she slowly made to close them out. After all the windows were closed out and all she saw was her standard-blue background with the assortment or icon shortcuts, she sighed. There was a nagging voice in the back of her head. The spy shook her head, it was risky to watch him and she knew it. Ada knew Wesker was aware of the placement of cameras in his apartment. Wesker had a shadow program that watched every single landline computer and laptop of the workers under him. Even above him. He could be watching her laptop right now.

But I have to see him.

Ada lost the battle with her subconscious mind and clicked on the shortcut disguised as a simple PDF file. Her screen filled with blackness and began to connect to the live feed that was coming through the cameras hundreds of miles away. After watching the small ring of circles spin and fade, six frames popped up to show her the apartment of Leon Scott Kennedy. The top two frames were of his living room, the only life she saw was his large German Sheppard lounging lazily on the couch. The next two were of his bathroom and his kitchen, both empty. However, the last two were of his bedroom, which is where she found her blue eyed agent. He was sleeping quietly in the middle of his bed. He shifted uneasily under the sheets, knocking them to his waist to expose his bare chest.

The spy watched the clear pictures intently. Ada was impressed at the clarity of that the tiny cameras produced. They weren't choppy and distorted, but clear and fluid. However, they were in black and white picture. The woman listened as he groaned, flinging an arm down to swat at a phantom pest.

Leon began to fidget uneasily in his sleep. His legs twitching slightly as if he were running towards an unknown destination. The muscles in his torso and arms fidgeted uneasily. Ada watched with a mounting guilt as the man twitched and squirmed in his sleep, his mouth opening in a silent scream.

A cold chill worked its way up the spy's spine, causing her to sit erect. Her eyes were wide in shock and her lips slowly parted as her jaw slackened. Ada had never watched Leon sleep before, and as she watched now, she only saw him fighting with a mental agony. The realm of sleep should be a place of comfort and solitude; a sanctuary from the horrible realities of the world. But this… this was not the case for Leon . Her horror rose as his face twisted with pain.

Suddenly, he lurched forward, eyes snapping open, as he extended his arm forward.

" ADA !"

The spy froze in shock. It couldn't be.

She instantly knew it from his voice. Leon was dreaming about Raccoon City .

Ada was stiff as she watched him gasp for air and then check his surroundings. Her jaw clenched tightly as she watched him swipe a hand underneath his eyes and sniffle quiet loudly.

He was crying.

Ada didn't know what to think. There were so many thoughts swarming through her head that it was all incoherent babbling. How did she know it was about Raccoon City? Why couldn't she move? Is he ok? Why did she care? The spy carefully leaned back on the fluffy sofa and continued to watch intently. Slowly, she pushed the thoughts from her mind as she watched him make his way to the kitchen. As he retrieved the glass bottle from the cabinet, she instantly frowned. The spy could easily see where this was going.

She directed her attention to her PDA, which was buzzing quietly next to her laptop. Daintily picking up the device, she tapped the screen to see a new text message from her informant. Ada groaned as she read that she needed to catch the soonest flight to Virginia possible. Sending a quick reply saying to consider it done, the assassin dropped the device back on the table. She lazily returned her gaze to the cameras. Leon was now on his couch and had visibly downed a good portion of the bottle. She sighed. Ada had never understood why people drank away their problems instead of confronting them. Then again, she didn't think the same way as most people.

The Eurasian woman glanced up at one of the paintings. She had no desire to watch Leon drink until he passed out or threw up. Ada had never seen him drink, so she was unsure of how he acted drunk, and had no real intention on finding out. Just as she went to move her cursor to close the window, the agent sputtered greatly and began to choke harshly. She saw the look of fear on his face and began to scan all cameras carefully. Her search came up empty handedly, seeing nothing out of the ordinary. Worry began to dance in her belly as Leon sprang from his seat and dashed to the bathroom. She stood hastily. DC was on the Virginia border. She thought quietly to herself, and her decision was made quickly. The laptop slammed shut and the PDA disappeared from the table's surface in a flash. Ada grabbed her very few belongings and was on her way to Washington DC without a second glance.