-Crumbling Beneath Us-
He held her eyes in the swirling storm and wanted to say anything - anything at all - to stop her.
Jill simply filled the silence, "So, we just admit what's happening here. The adrenaline eases back, and the rose-colored glasses come off. Who were we kidding? Getting married, raising a kid together…after four days? Stupid right? Romantic notion brought on by the rush and thrill of each other and the race to survive. You don't have to hold up your end of any of it. Ok? You're off the hook. No hard feelings."
She felt like she might vomit.
It hurt.
It hurt her to say these things.
But she didn't want him to think he was stuck with her. Or that he owed her anything.
She didn't want that.
Chris had stuck with her long after things were done there. They'd tried so hard to make it work. It didn't work. And maybe she was afraid of that here, with Leon, that he'd roll over and look at her and regret that he hadn't gone after Ada Wong.
She didn't think she'd survive it if he did that.
Better to cut the tie now and save the pain later.
Right?
She was aware that someone was hitching out hard breaths. Someone was breathing too fast. It was her. Of course, it was her. She was killing herself here.
"Here's your out, right? I can't compete with years of chasing her. I can't offer you anything like that. And, god forbid, you strap yourself to me and regret it. I don't think I could stand it if you did. So, it's ok. It's fine. Follow Ada and see where it leads. Take her bungee jumping and…I bet she plays piano…I bet she's good at it too…I bet…I….bet she could probably teach you how to drive too…you know? Maybe….you could change her tire wrong…and…just…." Shit. She trailed off and put her hand to her face. She breathed and tried to get it together. Her verbal diarrhea was going to kill them both.
Thunder rumbled over the burning city. It wasn't the only thing here going up in flames.
Quietly, finally, he breathed, "...shut up, Jill. Just...shut up."
Hoarsely, she returned, "...I don't want to be another thing you regret, Leon. I don't think I could stand it."
He shook his head, "-don't."
Don't what? It was mercy right? To stop them both from a huge mistake? It was mercy. Surely.
She started to finish it. She started to put the nail in their coffin and say goodbye…and the building shook beneath her feet. She stumbled.
Leon staggered.
And Derek Simmons kicked open the gate to Leon's left and emerged, staggering.
He wasn't alone. He had a hoard of zombies shambling and staggering around him. He went to his knees, and tentacles exploded from his smoking, stinking, charred flesh. He was suddenly thick with them, surrounded by them, and one with them.
One-shot right for Jill, and she ducked. But she didn't need to.
Because Leon stuck his arm up and took the hit for her.
The sound echoed. It was as loud as thunder. The tentacle slapped his forearm as Jill ducked and scurried. Her heart thundered behind her ribs.
Leon turned and aimed down the line of his arm.
"You won't ever touch her again. Do you hear me? Enough is enough, you stupid son of a bitch. This ends now. Jill, get to the chopper."
He didn't even mimic a Schwarzenegger voice when he said it.
That's how far down the rabbit hole they'd fallen.
Before he could fire, the tentacles shot out like the legs of a crab. They struck into the dead bodies that rolled around him and jerked the zombies back toward where Simmons crouched and grunted. There was the wet pop and crunch of bone as the thing that was Derek Simmons split open…and sucked the squirming zombie down into it. It…ate the zombie.
Leon murmured, disgusted, "Talk about having your meat raw. Jesus Christ. Zombie carpaccio."
He lifted the gun again and clenched his jaw. "Enjoy your last meal, you piece of shit. I hope you choke on it."
And he shot Simmons right between the eyes.
The thing gasped and gurgled…and went still. The zombies converged on it now, moaning. In horror, Jill watched them begin to munch and crunch on the thing that had once been one of the President's best friends.
He started screaming while they dined.
It was horrible.
Leon didn't look away. He watched. And the poetic justice wasn't lost on him and eaten alive by his creations—a fitting Dr. Moreau moment.
And then Jill grabbed his arm and jerked. They started running toward the chopper. Of course, she hadn't run on and left him. Of course not.
They hit the gate, burst through the other side, and pounded up the stairs. The roof spilled them out onto a narrow walkway. They ran for it as the rain started to whip into a storm.
Jill leaped onto the helipad and turned back to offer him a hand.
The world fractured. It tilted.
And something rose from the place where Simmons had been turned into zombie kibble. It was a massive bug. A fly? It had two big fat eyes in shiny red and two fluttering, flapping, scaley wings. It had four legs with gleaming sharp talons on the end and a body that looked covered in a steely carapace.
And it took flight behind them.
Jill couldn't do anything as it spit.
It spit from its disgusting mouth.
The wad of goop steamed as it flew. It was as big as a man. It was slick and disgusting and heavy. It split the sky and smashed into the walkway where Leon was trying to climb up.
He staggered.
Jill screamed and grabbed for him.
Her hand passed over his and missed.
And he tumbled backward into the waiting dark.
Her world fell apart in the time it took her to reach where he'd fallen. She regretted every moment she'd spent trying to set him free. She regretted every second she'd wasted trying to be mature and responsible and calm.
And she just wanted to take it all back and hold him.
She finally understood what Chris must have felt to watch her go through that window and tumble to her death. She finally understood that sometimes, you couldn't save them. Sometimes...they just slipped right through your hands.
She skidded on her belly, heart hammering.
Jill was so afraid she would lean over the roof and see his beautiful body splattered into nothing on the ground below.
But she didn't see that. She didn't see that at all.
Because fate would let her love him...just a little longer.
And he was there.
He was there.
In the little bucket, window washers used to clean the whole building where they stood. He'd fallen right into it. Jill wanted to weep and throw up simultaneously.
"Leon!"
He laughed, filthy and incredible, "...my hero!"
She put her hands down, and he took two running steps and leaped, grabbing onto her. The fly landed on the cart when he jumped, tearing it away in a metal scream. Leon scrambled up, and there was no time for anything but running.
They booked it toward the chopper and the only chance of escape.
Zombies were everywhere now, all over the place.
One grabbed her, Leon spun back, and roundhouse kicked it. It went over the roof and tumbled into the dark. She grabbed his hand and tugged him into the run of their life beside her.
And they weren't going to make it.
Because the fly that was Simmons landed on the roof, shook it like he'd send them all scrambling down to die, and started stomping with his four massive legs. He stomped while they scattered. He crushed zombies and ate them.
He squealed and screeched and sent them tumbling.
He drove one leg into the ground an inch from Leon. And Leon decided enough was enough. Enough.
He jumped and grabbed the spindly joint. He vaulted up on that massive leg. The fly reared and tried to shake him loose. But he scaled that bug like it was the Silverback Mountains. He reached the head and staggered as it tried to throw him off.
And he shouted, "SIMMONS! It's fitting that you're a fly now. You know why? Because flies are stupid. Flies are a nuisance. And flies? They EAT SHIT!"
It felt really good to throw bad dialogue down. It felt like being Leon Kennedy. It felt like fucking a hot girl, drinking a latte, and coming while he smoked a cigarette. It felt like living.
It felt like being with Jill Valentine.
Like being alive.
And it felt almost as good as rearing back and driving his knife into one glittering red eye.
The eye burst like a water balloon. And Simmons screeched in horror and pain.
Leon shifted, holding on, and popped the other eye with glee.
The bug reared up and flattened out, shaking the roof like a 9.5 on the Richter scale. It dropped down and went still…until it shot out one of those horrible tentacles and speared it through a zombie. It brought it back, split it open, and swallowed the damn thing down like a pill.
Jill shouted, "He's using them to heal! He's regenerating!!"
Of course, he was. Of course. Everything in their world returned at least eight times to try again to kill them.
Leon popped the eye that tried to emerge from the empty cavity. The socket shivered in pain. And Jill became a goddess of battle. She began killing like nothing he'd ever seen. She slew. She destroyed.
She was beautiful in battle. She was incredible.
Didn't she understand what she was to him?
Apparently, not.
He stabbed another budding eye.
The bug screeched again.
They couldn't do this all night. No way. Thunder rumbled, and Helena whistled from up above them. She was holding some kind of spear in her hands? She was holding something. And standing next to one of the broken crates that lined the roof.
She said, "It's a lightning rod! A lightning rod! You hear me, Kennedy?! Stick this in his mother fucking ass and light that son of a bitch on fire!"
She tossed it down.
It was as long as a man and heavy. He staggered but caught it.
And he turned back to the cavity that was trying to fill with another eye. He reared back and shouted above the pouring rain. "Simmons, you son of a bitch, I'm sick of killing you. This time? You're exterminated!"
And that felt good too. It felt great.
He drove the lightning rod into that empty eye socket and leaped down.
He rolled, staggered a little, and tackled the last zombie on the roof with them. He pushed it to the edge and hip kicked it over into the glistening dark.
Lightning licked the sky. It begged for a place to strike. And it found its mark.
Leon turned back. Jill stepped up beside him.
And his hand slid down and gripped hers.
Maybe it wasn't a walk in a sleepy little hamlet. Maybe it wasn't bungee jumping or lying in bed laughing...but it was pretty fucking good anyway. And he'd have traded every other moment in the world, every walk-in Paris, every trip up the Silverback, every girl he'd ever fucked and every ass he'd ever kicked, and every moment he'd ever spent searching for something to make him feel like she did. He'd trade them all...for one more second with her.
The lightning zigged. The lightning zagged. It painted the sky white where it streaked. And it arrowed down to touch that rod. There was a pop of electricity—a burst of crackling sound.
Leon murmured, "Hey, Ray...that's what happens -"
Jill Valentine interrupted him...and finished his sentence, "...when you cross the streams."
And Jill Valentine made a Ghostbusters joke while she stood beside him and watched the lightning strike.
And Jill Valentine stole his soul.
The lightning crackled, the world burst, and Derek Simmons erupted in flames.
The bug was suddenly brighter than the sun. The whole world was burning.
They backed up while it burned and ran.
They raced up the stairs, and Helena was strapping in again. She went to ensure Ben was still sleeping….and he was gone.
Jill glanced at Leon while they ran. "Tell me you won't wreck this one!"
And there was no time to answer.
Simmons, burning like the heat of a thousand pits of hell, took to the sky to destroy them. He was unkillable. He was unstoppable. They were fucked.
He smashed onto the roof. He tried to topple the whole damn building. He staggered his massive legs and lifted one above his head, where the lightning rod still waited for another burst of electrical death. He was going to smash the chopper and trap them here to die.
And a tiny voice shouted, "SHOO FLY! DON'T BOTHER ME!"
There was a WHOOSH of sound from behind them.
Leon spun. Jill gasped.
And Ben went to his ass on the roof. The empty launcher in his hands fell to the helipad with a clunk of metal.
Helena started laughing.
And the RPG hit Simmons in his burning face.
Apparently, he was killable after all.
He turned into pink mist and chunks. He obliterated in midair. He became nothing but trickling flame and smoke in the pouring rain.
The noise was awesome. It was deafening.
Jill dropped to her knees and gathered the little boy against her to protect him from the eruption.
Leon raced to the edge of the helipad, and the mortal body of Simmons plummeted, twisting and tumbling into the fire below. He screamed in rage, and the monument in the courtyard broke his fall. He was speared through the middle by the jutting tip of the beautiful silver tower. It impaled him, cracked his spine, and drove right into his heart. It burst out the other side in a spray of blood.
The body slumped, the spine snapping, and the blood poured out of him and down the silver sides.
Simmons shuddered, and his face split…to show the naked skull beneath.
And then he was still, staring sightlessly into the stormy sky.
Leon watched it happen. And his eyes told him what lay beneath the monument. At this distance, looking down like a hawk circling its prey, he could finally see what you couldn't from the ground. The symbol beneath the monument...he'd been seeing it his whole life. It was…a familiar symbol. The blood of Derek Simmons spilled outward. It spread across the base of the monument where he died….and did so in the shape of the logo for the long-dead Umbrella Corporation.
The poetic justice wasn't lost on him.
Leon felt the roll of it in his fucking soul.
Helena stepped up beside him, staring down into the smoky night.
She spit, and it tumbled and landed on that dead body. She whispered, "That's for Debra, you fucking bastard. I hope you rot in hell."
The world erupted and took the body of Derek Simmons with it in a geyser of flame and death.
They both stood there and mourned those lost to his madness. They mourned the people they'd avenged and the infected that couldn't be saved. And they mourned what they'd sacrificed to end it finally.
And it was somehow ok. It was ok. It would finally be ok.
Somehow.
Leon patted her shoulder and turned back. "Let's blow this popsicle stand, kid."
She nodded and rushed to buckle in. Jill was already strapping Ben in beside Helena.
She looked over her shoulder at him as he stared into the flickering darkness. Was he looking for Ada Wong?
Was he looking for the truth?
What was he seeking in the glistening dark?
She'd been looking for him all her life.
They climbed into the front seats and buckled up. Leon lifted the chopper easily. And he didn't wreck it. Of course, all previous theories about his driving were proven utterly and completely false.
The rain pounded in their glass bubbles as they zipped across the sky.
They flew across the stormy clouds for some time before breaking the silence. Ben was snoring in the back. Helena had fallen asleep cuddling him close to her.
Only Leon and Jill remained awake, watchful, and alert.
She shifted in her seat and lifted her palm.
In it, a tiny white compact sat. An ornate little butterfly graced the plastic top. She didn't look at him. She couldn't. Not yet.
Leon glanced at it and then at the dark sky. "What?"
Jill said tonelessly, "It's Ada's. You know that."
He glanced at her again. "Alright."
Jill waited. He said nothing else.
She finally asked, "Do you want me to open it?"
"Sure. Knock yourself out."
Annoyed, Jill popped the top of the compact. The fake makeup inside lifted and showed a tiny chip beneath it. Jill glanced at his face.
He was still staring out the curvy glass.
She took the chip and put out her hand. And he didn't even look over as he put his communicator in it. She inserted the chip, and the screen lit up.
And she breathed, shocked. "Leon…it's….everything on Simmons. Everything."
"Which means it will prove his guilt and Helena's innocence."
Jill touched his arm without thinking about it. "And yours."
He shrugged a shoulder, watching lightning streak across the sky. "I don't need it."
Jill let go of his arm. She leaned away, watching the moon poking through the clouds.
They said nothing even as he touched the chopper down on the helipad Hunnigan directed them to in Beijing. Jill leaped out first as the blades stopped spinning.
The rain was cool on her hot face.
Was it over? Finally? Was it done?
She skimmed her hands over her tired face and turned to look at Leon as he climbed out the other side. The rain was making love to that face. Who could blame it? She was envious of it. With the hair slicked back by his hands, the face took your breath away.
Jill checked in with HQ to ask after Chris. He hadn't yet come back from the recovery mission with Sherry and Jake.
She turned back to the chopper to gather up Ben and Leon's voice stopped her.
"I was thinking of retiring…that day in the café when you found me…I was thinking of hanging up my gun and giving up the fight."
She turned back to face him.
He shrugged a little and slicked his hair back again. "Yeah. Me right? Me. What would I do without the fight? We said that, didn't we? We said it was the rush that kept us alive. Ada…she's that rush. She's like heroin. I could probably chase her around and get a fix. She's beautiful and deadly and like a punch of adrenaline to touch. Like petting a tiger. You know you'll lose a hand, but you risk it anyway."
Jill shook her head and covered her mouth with her hand. "You…you don't have to explain…it's ok…here. Just…here." She offered him the compact. "Go find her. It's ok."
Frustrated, he shook his head. "No...that's not...that's not what I'm trying to say. I'm fucking this up."
She smiled sadly, "I don't know that there's an easy way to dump someone, Leon. Just give it your best shot here."
Fuck.
She was wrong.
Didn't she see that? She was so fucking wrong here.
So, he tried again. And he'd keep trying until she figured it out. "Chasing her is empty, Jill. It's empty. It's a hit that takes the edge away. It's a high that lasts a minute and leaves you worse than when you started. It's not real. And it's not lasting."
She started to move, and he lifted a hand, halting her. "Just...listen...just...wait..."
She stopped, watching him. Didn't he know she could watch him all day? Every day? Always.
They held gazes now.
Lighting kissed the sky and flickered in his eyes.
And he was suddenly the man with everything to lose.