Authors Note: Just a warning for some upsetting content, don't read if you're easily upset. Thanks as always for the love, and bring a bucket. It's getting messy.

Time after time, I walk the fine line
Something keeps bringing me back
And time after time, I'm going in blind
I don't know which way I need to go

Do all these roads lead me back to you?

- P.O.D

July 7th, 2006

Leon gazes out of the window of the Presidents private jet, watching the country roll by miles below. The air felt like his second home these days, he spent so much time traveling to one place or another. The past six months had been a little crazy, they'd sent him back to Europe on a ghost mission, investigating further incidents involving the Los Illuminados cult. Leon was now considered the ultimate authority on them and the Plaga parasite, and apparently despite the fact he'd destroyed an entire island in the hopes of wiping them out – they still reared their ugly heads here and there. The parasite was still in play, and there were people trying to weaponize it.

He'd been sent back to Spain and moved on to the Czech Republic – a silent assassin. He'd cut two more heads off of the Hydra, but he was sure it was only a matter of time before it grew more. These things spread like a virus in themselves. Once something deadly was on the radar of black market traders and those that sought to control or condemn the world, it seemed close to impossible to take it out of play completely.

But that was his job. To try. To go where the intel sent him, to do what the orders told him.

Eight years he'd been doing this now, he felt every inch the veteran he was. Wise beyond his years in many ways, and his body told a tale. He'd amassed an impressive collection of scars and injuries. He nursed nerve damage in one hand and saw a chiropractor regularly to keep his back in check. It didn't stop him though, he was good at pain. Taking it, managing it, ignoring it. To people on the outside when he was in his gear and coming to kill them, he looked like a nightmare soldier. Deadly hero. But only one person got to see the real toll it took on him.

Only Claire ever saw him get out of bed wincing, or limping. Only she ever saw the man behind it all.

Not that they'd been to bed together in a long time. Not in a romantic sense anyway. Since repairing their friendship after over a year of not speaking, they'd resisted that particular urge. They lived their lives – separately. It was good. They kept in contact, they were there for each other and they talked often. He was thankful to have her back in his life. But he doubted there would ever be romance between them again. They'd been there, they'd tried that. It had ended terribly. The love was still there, for both of them. But maintaining their friendship had become more important to them than any urges that could crop up.

"Can I get you something to drink?" The sweet, blonde hostess asks him as she passes through, tending to the handful of passengers on this trip.

Leon blinks out of his thoughts and looks up to her, giving her a smile and a small shake of his head. "No, thankyou."

"Well you let me know if you do need anything." She beams right back at him. She was bending over just enough that he could see right down her blouse, and that was not an accident. He smirks a little, nodding.

"I will do that." He glances at her name badge. "Karen. You must be new?"

"My first flight." She admits, a blush rising in her cheeks.

Across from them, Ashley Graham clears her throat and smirks at him, rolling her eyes a little.

"Well you're doing a great job." He compliments.

Karen's cheeks redden considerably and she thanks him with a giggle. Excusing herself.

Leon looks from the woman's ass as she leaves, to his charge, Ashley. Who was sat opposite him toying with her phone and giving him a look.

"What?" He asks quietly, an amused smile on his face.

Ashley shakes her head. "I swear if you could make money fucking you'd be richer than I am."

He laughs, glancing back out of the window. "Don't tell me there's girl talk in the White House."

"Of course there is." Ashley says matter-of-factly, "women talk no matter what. Status, setting, all gossip all the time."

He rolls his eyes. "Of course they do."

"Like you didn't know."

Leon looks back to her. "And women say men are terrible. At least I don't kiss and tell."

"You don't brag about your conquests, Agent Kennedy?" She teases.

"Who would I brag to?"

"Right, of course. All work and no play makes Leon a dull boy." She says thoughtfully. "What DO you do for fun? Besides bang your way through the female population of Washington."

He puts his hand over his heart and laughs, "ouch. I'm not that bad."

"Maybe I'm a still a little offended you turned me down." She reminds with a smirk.

"Please, I value my neck." He snorts.

"That the only reason? That I'm the Presidents daughter? Because I won't be forever, you know." She challenges.

Leon sighs a bit, looking at her over the polished table between them. "That wasn't the only reason, no. And even once your fathers out of Office, you'll still be his daughter. And friends daughters are strictly off limits."

Ashley pouts, fiddling with her phone. "Well, bummer for me. I've heard such great things."

He narrows his eyes. "I'm not even going to ask."

"Big things." She adds. "Huge, even."

"I.. get the picture." he laughs in a breath, his own turn to feel a little embarrassed.

"So what were the reasons?" She presses.

He chews his lower lip for a moment, studying her. "Between us?"

"Of course." She nods, suddenly quite serious. For all of their banter and taunting, there was some bond they shared and had done since Spain. He trusted her, she trusted him. What they said always stayed between them.

"I'd just found out my girlfriend was pregnant."

Ashley's eyes widen a little and she sits back in her seat. "Oh, damn. Now I feel like an asshole."

He shrugs his shoulders and shakes his head. "Don't. It.. didn't work out."

"I didn't know you were a Dad."

"I'm not."

"Oh." She looked positively mortified and leans forward over the table, reaching out to him. "I'm sorry, I was just giving you a hard time."

"I know." He winks at her, giving her a comforting smile. "It's okay. She had a miscarriage, we broke up. But we're good now. Friends. So.. things worked out alright."

"That really sucks though. The world sure knows how to stick the knife in and twist, huh." Ashley sighs.

"I won't argue with that." He nods.

After a small silence, Ashley speaks up again, looking at him curiously over her phone. "So who was that woman in red, really? That wasn't your girlfriend, right?"

Leon looks up from his renewed gaze out of the window and considers this for a moment, then laughs a little. "No. She's just.." he tries to think of the best, casual way to sum up Ada, and he can't think of one. There was nothing simple about that woman and their 'relationship', whatsoever. "Honestly, I don't know what she is." He admits.

"Sounds complicated." Ashley pulls a face, tucking her hair back. It was longer now and sat neatly manicured just past her shoulders. She still wore it down and straight, but the bangs were gone.

"That's a word for it." He smirks. "Remember I told you about Raccoon City?"

"Of course." So many idle conversations on long flights together.

"She was there. We just seem to cross paths a lot. It's always strange.. and intense."

"Have you slept with her?"

He swallows, drumming his fingers on the table and frowning a bit. "Uhh, yeah."

"Do you love her?"

He blinks, staring at the younger woman as she hits him with that question. How DID he feel about Ada? He'd never really stopped to consider it. Claire had always been the woman he'd call the love of his life, even if they weren't together. Even if they were focused on friendship and nothing more these days. He loved her. She was the only one that held his heart in her hands – at least, that was what he always told himself. But Ada? He got a fluttery feeling in his stomach every time her name came up. When he was around her, he felt like some missing piece from his life was finally in place. He thought about her often, he spent many quiet moments wondering what she was doing and where she was. She was a mystery, she drew him like a moth to a flame. Beautiful, deadly, she challenged him and made him better. Made him want to BE better. Up his game. He wanted to know everything and she gave him nothing, and that drove him crazy.

Ada was his Unicorn. His Eleanor.

Did he love her?

"You do." Ashley says with a smile spreading across her face. "You totally do."

His jaw tenses and he frowns a little harder. "What makes you say that?"

"No man has to think that hard about whether or not he doesn't love a woman." Ashley informs him, "that's a simple, quick answer. But there's never anything simple about love."

Leon studies her. "Okay, Oprah."

She laughs, "I was thinking I'd be great at hosting a talk show." She says thoughtfully, then focuses on him again. "So why aren't you with her?"

He draws in a deep breath, shrugging his leather jacket on his shoulders. "It just.. wouldn't work out."

"How do you know unless you try?"

He laughs a little, shaking his head. "I think I'm done with this line of questioning." He says quietly.

Ashley considers him for a moment, then nods. "Well your secrets safe with me."

"I know." He smiles kindly.

They were coming in to land. Leon and a small security team had accompanied Ashley to a 4th of July party that had involved an official public appearance, now they were returning to Washington. Ashley had become quite the activist for women's rights over the past year, using her experience in Spain as a way to identify with women that had been subjected to abuse, harassment and other torments. He was pretty proud of her. It took a strong person to take a trauma and turn it in to a positive to help others. She was setting up a foundation and he'd accompanied her to a few of her speaking engagements.

It was always fascinating to watch someone grow. She'd come a long way.

But she still cursed like a sailor and drove him crazy with her razor sharp wit. Some things never changed, and he was glad of that.

The disembark the plane and hit the tarmac. He passes her off to a White House security team and they share a brief hug before she gets in the car. "I'll see you in two weeks, right?" She asks as she gives him a squeeze.

"Think so, unless some world ending drama pops up somewhere and your father sends me away." He nods as they pull apart. "You take care, kid."

"I'm gonna be 60 and you're still going to be calling me kid." She rolls her eyes at him, ducking in to the blacked out vehicle.

He chuckles, getting his phone out and scrolling through to a number. It's only a second or two before Hunnigan picks up, and Leon signs off duty. He'd been on for six days straight, now he had a few days off.

"Don't suppose I can interest you in that drink?" Karen asks as she draws up beside him. Leon hangs up, pocketing his phone in his leather jacket and looking at her.

"Sure. Why not." He smiles.

Karen was loud, and her bed rattled against the wall of her small apartment. The sex was intense, fuelled by lust and vodka. They'd crashed through her door after she'd invited him up for 'coffee' and they hadn't even gotten their clothes off. His belt was undone, his jeans barely over his ass. Her skirt hiked up around her waist, panties pushed aside and blouse undone enough for him to get at her tits.

It was just the release he'd needed after six days on duty. Wild and urgent, and she had a filthy mouth that spurred him on. She clutches the bars of the headboard behind her and fills the apartment with her cries. Springs squeaked, things rattled. Something fell off the bedside table.

They crash in to bliss together and something about her sheer volume prompted his own, letting out a loud groan, cursing his way through his release. He slumps over her, panting. Basking in that glow.

"Wow." Karen sighs after a moment or two. "I'm going to need your number."

He lifts his head, getting his breath. "I don't date."

"Neither do I." She winks at him.

"Oh." He smirks. "Well, in that case."

He eases himself from her and kneels between her legs, taking care of things and tucking himself back in, zipping up. He pulls his phone from the leather jacket he hadn't even taken off and asks for hers. She reels it off, lying there still spread before him, casual as anything. He sends her phone a message, and presto, she has his number.

"What's your name again?" She asks.

He laughs, getting off of the bed and examining his hair in her mirror. "Leon."

"That's right." She yawns, turning on to her stomach. "You can see yourself out?"

"I can." He nods.

"Thanks for the orgasm."

"Likewise." He chuckles, leaving her there to nap or whatever it was she was going to do. He sees himself out.

It's a short cab ride back to his place, and when he reaches his floor he finds his suitcase from the trip left for him by the assistants, as well as some mail and a cardboard box, addressed to him. He picks it up and examines it, frowning. He hadn't ordered anything. Dismissing it for now he lets himself in and hauls his stuff in to the living room, setting the box down on the coffee table and leafing through the mail. Nothing interesting. He lets it hit the table with a soft slap and shrugs off his leather jacket and the holsters underneath. Beginning to unbutton his shirt as he heads to the shower to wash off the flight and the sex.

He emerges a short while later, comfortable in sweatpants and no shirt. Making himself a coffee and adding a dash of whiskey, he puts on some music and flicks on the lights. Dusk drawing in outside the windows. Taking a seat on the couch, he pulls the box over to himself, looking it over again. No return address, the postal stamp came from England. It had been shipped fast. He frowns, picking up a penknife from a dish on the table, he scores the tape holding it closed and carefully opens it.

The very first item is a old style tape cassette player. The kind reporters used to use to take notes and gets quotes out in the field. He frowns at it. Setting it down and drawing out the second item, a memory card in a plastic case. The two items sat on something soft. He reaches in, getting his fingers around the material and pulling it free. His heart skips a beat and he carefully lets the garment unfold. It was a red dress, perhaps more of a night gown. A slinky, sexy thing. But what makes the bile rise in his throat is the dark patches of blood that stained it.

"What is this?" He murmurs to himself, looking at the other two items. He chews his lip and grabs his laptop, pulling it over and switching it on. It seems to take forever for the damn thing to boot up, but once it has he inserts the memory card and clicks a few buttons. A moment later a file pops up. A video.

It's titled 'Watch me'.

Nothing titled 'Watch me' was ever anything good.

He clicks on it and a window opens, a video player. His breath catches in his throat.

"Ada.." he breathes.

She was in a dark, damp looking room. Wearing the red dress he'd just plucked from the box. She was seemingly unconscious, or just hanging her head. He wasn't sure. She hung from the ceiling by her wrists, rope cutting in to her skin. Her ankles bound tightly with what looked like duct tape. Her legs were dirty and bruised and at the sight of those bruises he feels an anger rise in him. The dress barely covered her, hanging there like that, and she isn't alone for long.

A large, muscled man moves in to frame and Leon's fists clench tightly. He wore a mask and said nothing. He realizes the camera isn't static, it's being moved. Someone else was holding it but also not saying a word. The large man moves up in front of Ada and takes her chin in his hand, lifting her face. Her eye was blackened and she had a cut to her lip, she seemed groggy and as the camera finally moves closer he notices the marks on her arms. They'd drugged her.

Leon's heart was thumping. What was he watching?

She groans, the only sound in the video. The large man produces a pair of scissors, he snaps them in front of her face and she shows no fear, meeting her tormentors gaze. "There's nothing else you can do to me, you might as well give up." She speaks quietly.

They say nothing.

He runs the tip of a scissor blade over her chest, over the material of her dress. She closes her eyes as he hikes the skirt up and turns the scissors. He snips at her panties, stripping her of them. She makes a small noise and he can hear it, he can hear her fear. He's never heard her afraid before. His hand covers his mouth. It was like watching a nightmare unfold, he felt sick to his stomach.

The monster cuts through the tape binding her ankles together and Leon clenches his eyes shut for a moment, then rises to his feet, turning away and tucking his hands in to his hair. He looks back with his fingers laced behind his head and forces himself to endure it with her. That animal mauls her and the fury he feels inside defies anything he's ever felt before.

When she finally breaks, letting out a tortured scream, he reaches out and slams the laptop shut. He can't. His breath came in quick pants and his eyes felt hot with tears that wanted to come, but he was too angry to cry. He snatches the tape player up from the table and hits play, his thumb turning up the volume.

"Leon Kennedy." The voice begins. Deep, male, British. "If you haven't watched it yet, I suggest you take a moment to view the other item in the box. Then come back to this message. If you have – she's still alive." There's a pause. "For now, at least. I'm going to need you to keep this between us, we have eyes everywhere. We'll know if you share this message or what I am about to tell you with anybody, and you won't suffer for it. She will."

He paces as he listens, he wanted to rip these motherfuckers to pieces. He'd kill every last one of them.

"Everybody has their breaking point, we've taken Miss Wong beyond hers. She gave us your name, though to her credit we had to drug her, disorient her and.. well, you saw the beginnings of it in that video. It was a long, rough night for poor Ada."

"I'll fucking kill you." Leon seethes, as though he could respond to a tape recording.

"We need you to return to England, Mr Kennedy. See you were involved in something you shouldn't have been. Miss Wong signed you up for something she shouldn't have and now both of your lives are potentially forfeit. I offer you both a way out, though. Do nothing, she will die in the slowest manner possible – and we'll send you pieces of her as a fond memory. Come to London, instructions will follow." There's a small pause and the voice adds, "do not test us, Mr Kennedy. You really should be more careful who you acquaint yourself with."

"I'm gonna stick this recorder up your ass you sack of shit." Leon growls at the cassette player, then moves quickly to his kitchen, grabbing a pen and a sticky note he scribbles down a number as it's reeled off in a digital voice, with instruction to call once he reaches London. The recording comes to an end and he sets the player down, his heart thundering, he stares at the information and the player, then looks toward the laptop that sat there – closed. Hiding details of her suffering.

This was about that lab they raided, he was sure of it. She said it was something to do with her Father. Why would her own Father have this done to her? What kind of sick, sadistic animal did you have to be?

Who was she?

He couldn't leave her to die like that. He just couldn't.

Just like that, he's booking a ticket to London and packing some things. He might not know exactly what he was up against, but neither did they.

Less than 24 hours later, Leon arrives at London's Gatwick airport as the sun is beginning to set. It was a beautiful city from the air. Bathed in gold, historic and old. But there was something haunting about it, and he'd seen a small slice of it's seedy underbelly the last time he was here. He had no doubt that there were some darker, nastier forces at play in this regal place. It seemed to be the way of every city.

He picks up his bag and heads out in to the street. It was warm outside despite the dying light, and he pulls the scrap of paper from his jacket pocket and glances around for a payphone. They were everywhere, but he chooses one the furthest away from prying ears. Inserting some change, he makes the call.

"Mr Kennedy."

"Yeah." He says tightly.

"So glad you could make it."

"Just tell me where I'm going."

There's a laugh on the other end of the line, and the voice tells him a specific bridge to wait by at a specific time on a named road, then hangs up.

He grits his teeth, replacing the receiver slowly and for a moment, just breathing. Centering himself. Rage was a wonderful fuel in battle, but to begin with he needed his cool. He needed his wits about him. He needed to beat these people at their own game. He was getting Ada out of there alive, and no deals were being made, whatever they even were.

He grabs a cab and asks the driver where in London this address was. He's shown on a map of the city, so Leon asks for a small, nondescript hotel at the opposite end of the city. The driver looks confused, but grants his request. He's taken to a travel lodge on the outskirts of north London. He checks himself in to a quiet room and dumps his bag down.

If they were smart, they'd pat him down. There were ways around that. All he needed was a knife. The concealment is easy and even on a thorough check, they'd never find it. Not unless they made him take his jacket and shirt off entirely. It would even pass a metal detection, and had done at the airport. Amazing what working for the Government could get you, there were some toys not available to the public that were very useful in situations like these.

As he paces the room, awaiting 11pm, his phone rings.

Hunnigan.

"Leon, sorry to interrupt you on your days off, but unfortunately – we need you to come in."

He grits his teeth. "You're going to have to get someone else on this one, Ingrid. I'm not in the country."

She looks confused, frowning. "You're not? You're not on vacation leave Leon."

"I know, but something came up. I have to be here."

"What kind of something?" She presses.

He sighs. "I can't talk about it, it's personal."

"Leon.." she warns.

"Ingrid, please. This one time, will you just.." he doesn't know what to say to her, she could get in trouble for covering for him. Risk both of their jobs.

She purses her lips and looks at him over the video chat. "You look awful. I'm going to assume this is a family emergency." She answers finally. She knew his only family was his Father, and that he was in Colorado.

"Thankyou."

"Let me know when you're back." She nods.

"I will."

They share one last, lingering look, and she signs off. He sighs heavily, pocketing the phone again, after switching it off. It was almost time.

At 11pm he calls a cab to the hotel and gives them the address of the rendezvous point. It's quite a drive, and they leave the city, heading in to darker, seedier areas. Where buildings sported broken windows and looked long since abandoned.

"Not exactly a tourist area," The cab driver warns him. "Are you sure this is where you want to be?"

"I'm sure." Leon says quietly, leaning forward to pay him.

"You want me to stick around?"

"No, I'm good. Thankyou though." He nods and the driver sighs reluctantly, feeling a little strange about dropping a foreigner off in a known bad area. But Leon exits the car and glances around himself. The street was lit only by a dim, yellowish glow off of the only working lamp. He spots the bridge, sticking his hands in his pockets as he walks toward it. The sound of the cabs engine fades away, leaving him in silence. Just the crunch of his feet on the slightly gravelly ground and the bark of a dog somewhere in the distance.

He reaches the bridge and leans against it's wall. Waiting.

"Punctuality. I like that." A voice drifts over to him and he lifts his head, setting his eyes on a man across the road from him, emerging from the shadowy cover of a shipping crate and the wall of the bridge. Before Leon can answer, a train thunders overhead, it's loud metallic clack fracturing the night. Leon doesn't take his eyes off of this other man as he crosses toward him. They couldn't possibly have sent just one guy?

For a moment he's wondering if these people were actually not as smart as they made out. But as the train's noise fades away, he's lit up by the headlights of a car. He lifts his hand to shield his eyes against the glaring light. Then there's a gun to his head. The pat down begins and he raises his hands. Allowing it, surrendering.

"Where's Ada." He asks as the other man comes face to face with him, inspecting his arms.

"You'll see her once the deals made."

"No. I see her before we even talk deals." He says flatly.

There's a slight chuckle. "That won't be happening."

"Then how do I know she's even alive?"

"You'll have to take our word for it."

"Then there's no deal."

"Mr Kennedy..." there's a heavy sigh. The other man seems satisfied he's not carrying anything and steps back. "Has anybody ever warned you about poking sleeping lions?"

"I've made a career of it." He warns.

The other man tenses his jaw and slowly nods. "You're in no position here, to make demands."

"Then just kill me. Get it over with. Cause you're getting nothing from me unless I know Ada's alright."

The sound of the car door opening attracts both their attentions, and they look toward it.

Some dark figure in a suit stands shrouded by the brilliant bright white light of the headlamps. "We will show you the girl. But there will be no other negotiations."

Leon moves his hands slightly, they were still raised. A gesture of agreement.

"Very well."

"Dumb men in love." His captor snorts to his side, jabbing the gun in to his ribs. "Move."

Leon glares at him, but does as instructed. Getting in to the car, assessing his situation. One man with a gun, another older man sitting to his side, probably also strapped. And a driver.

"Somebody want to tell me what all this is about?" He speaks up as they get on the road.

"You'll find out soon enough."

Leon nods. He just needed to see Ada. Once he knew she was okay – they were all dead.