A/N: I don't own Resident Evil. Sadly.

Love and Other Drugs

Part Six:

Off the Wagon

You meet thousands of people, and none of them really touch you. And then you meet one person, and your life is changed...forever.

― Love and Other Drugs

Devil's Elbow, Kentucky-2005

The guy on the run was named Lorenzo Hostas. A drug dealer who'd sidestepped into black market weapons when he should have gone to college and gotten a real career. He wasn't a guy who knew what kind of underworld he was playing into when he sold his first stash of assault rifles to Javier Hidalgo in Columbia.

What happened next would pave the way for the first sale of a B.O.W. on American shores. He'd smuggled in a sample of the T-Virus classically - rectally via a mule looking for American citizenship. But a major mistake had ruptured the vial and infected the host before the plane could reach American soil. The outbreak aboard the charter plane had caused an Emergency landing in a field outside of a small nothing town called Devil's Elbow.

The pilot and three other patrons had managed to escape alive. The rest had been contained through elimination and sanitation. It wasn't the first time a sample had been set off on a plane, but it was the first time the host had managed to get a bag filled with eggs past customs. How? Had they simply walked right through?

Sensors weren't set up to detect monsters after all—just weapons.

The eggs were currently in analysis to determine what would hatch. Avian? Reptilian? And why had the host been carrying them and a T-Virus sample? Had they been delivering both to a buyer?

Aloud, Leon mused, "Good afternoon, sir; I've brought this viral agent that was recently in my ass. Will that be cash or credit?"

He shook his head, picking among the dead on the ground as the team aboard the plane began a massive clean-up. He collected wallets and contact information for any family. He said a small prayer for peace over those who'd died.

A set of twin girls gave him pause. Maybe six years old. They'd been eaten painfully by the look of their corpses. The belly of one ripped open, the neck of the other brutalized in a mess of exposed blood and bone. He didn't have to put them down. They'd been dead by one of the assault team before he'd reached them.

But the weeping face of their mother haunted him. She was a survivor, off to one side, curled around her hands as she sobbed. She'd hidden them in the bathroom, trying to save them. But when the plane had landed, they'd thought it was safe. They'd opened the door to their own death.

There was no chance once the first infected had fallen. In a small space, on a plane with no weapons, they'd fought when they could and died where they stood. The stories told by the handful who'd lived were about the brave who'd thrown themselves on the zombies to protect the young, the old, or the weak. Human nature to stand for your comrades when all was lost.

One of the survivors was a child. A girl about twelve years old: she'd hidden with her father in the other bathroom. But the zombies had gathered and tried to take the door down. The father had gone out to distract them and lead them away.

He'd never come back.

He was in pieces near the end of the line of bodies. They'd torn him apart.

The other survivor was a stewardess. She'd used her food cart like a weapon to fend them off. She'd hidden in the cockpit with the pilot until he'd set the plane down. They'd tried to get to other survivors, but there was no hope for it.

Four people out of a flight of over two hundred.

A tragedy.

A preventable one if they could just get things in place to check for bioweapons. Airport security simply wouldn't budge. It was in the works on a federal level, but Congress was as slow as molasses about things they didn't consider a national emergency.

Leon moved toward the girl who was staring into the trickling rain. The sizzle and pop of the fire being put out by the incoming weather made a fitting backdrop to the grief of such a tremendous loss. The fire was sanitizing the plane, but it made the survivors feel the loss in a way they'd never forget.

The girl lifted her head. A pretty thing - big dark eyes and thick dark hair in a pair of braids. She reminded him of his sister. She'd always been his best friend. There wasn't a day that went by that he didn't wish he could find the time to go home and see her.

Softly, he asked, "Gina? It's Gina, right?"

She nodded, and her face creased with emotion. "Yeah. They said I couldn't see my Dad. Why? That's how you say goodbye, right?"

Leon nodded and shifted under the makeshift overhang they'd set up for the crew and survivors. The leather jacket he wore sent beads of rain off like it had banished them back from whence they came. "You're right. It helps. Usually. But your Dad...there's not much left of him."

The truth was awful. But she'd always wonder if she didn't know it. She'd always wish she'd seen him one last time.

Leon added, "He'd want you to remember him as the brave guy who saved your life, Gina. Not that. It won't help you to see it. It'll just give you nightmares. I promise you that."

She looked at his face and shook her head as tears joined the rain on her cheeks, "How can you know that? He was my Dad. He was all I had. How did this happen to us? We were going home for Christmas. That's it. How did this happen?"

Leon shook his head, feeling the hard roll of sympathy, "I'm so sorry. I wish I could tell you the answer. But I'll find the man responsible. I'll make sure the man who did this to your father...I'll make sure he pays."

Gina studied him in the cold air. Smart, he thought, she had intelligence on her pretty face under the grief, "...you swear?"

"I swear to God; I will not stop until I wipe this virus from the face of the Earth."

Gina's face collapsed. She nodded. She believed in the steadfast determination of him. He looked like a guy who kicked in doors and killed bad guys for those who couldn't. She believed him. He looked like a guy who got revenge for a girl he'd just met. He just did.

Quietly, brokenly, she gasped, "My dog...my dog was on the plane. He attacked them when they came for me. They killed my dog. They killed my Dad and my dog. What do I do now? I have no one."

She collapsed forward, and he caught her. She curled against his chest and clung, weeping hard and painfully. His gloved hands curled around her back and the back of her head to hold her. His gaze held on to the pop and crackle of that still burning plane. It was all he could do to keep promising. It was all he could to keep fighting for a city that had never had a chance. For a girl, he'd just met, a plane full of people he'd never known, and a dog that had died like a hero trying to save them all.

Sometimes you needed to remember just what you were fighting for.

There was a flicker of headlights and the sound of engines. He felt the air tremble as one of the other agents on site told him, "Agent Kennedy, the BSAA is here."

Of course, they were.

The clean-up was almost done. It was time for the big guns to sweep in and claim all the bodies to take back to their labs like discarded toys. Leon let go of the girl in his arms as she released him. She sniffled and stepped aside.

Softly, he told her, "I'm gonna have you taken somewhere safe. Do you have any family? Anyone? That you want me to call?"

She shook her head. She sat down on the bench there and stared at the plane. "No one. He was all I had."

Jesus.

Leon turned to the agents waiting near the rise of the hill where the BSAA was unloading. "Get Claire Redfield at TerraSave on the line for me."

He hurried to do his bidding. Leon finished hoofing it up the wet hill to find the other Redfield alighting from one of the giant armored vehicles. He was in full assault gear, even though the battle was over here. There'd never really been one. It had been slaughter and then sanitation.

They shook as Chris stepped forward to greet him in the rain. "How bad?"

"Four survivors. Over two hundred dead. One girl without any family. I called TerraSave to see about placing her somewhere safe."

"Shit." Angry, Chris shook his head. The thing about him? He felt every death like it was his own. He wasn't a man who battled the bad guys heartlessly. "Claire will find a home for the kid. I promise you that."

Leon nodded and skimmed his hands back through his wet hair. "Never gets any easier."

"It shouldn't. If it hurts, it still matters."

He was not a man known for his words, but when Chris Redfield spoke, somehow they were always the right ones. It was why he inspired men. Leon nodded and took a deep breath, "There were a ton of papers in with the eggs. They kept talking about a man named Ricardo Irving. He might be the go-between helping funnel B.O.W.S. to the terrorist cells."

Chris nodded and turned to hail one of his men. "Let's find out what game he's playing with people's lives. My guess? We'll find Wesker waiting behind whatever smoke screen the little shit is providing."

Chris shifted toward his men to head down the hill toward the wreckage. Leon stayed on the rise staring into the rain. He wanted to smoke a cigarette. It was a nearly visceral response.

But he reined it in. Smoking would just get him cancer; it wouldn't do a damn thing to help anyone here. Leon shoved his hands through his wet hair and peeled it off his face. He needed a drink.

He turned away from the scene to find her looking at him. She'd been in the other vehicle, clearly. Her hair was ponytailed back. Her wet weather jacket was graced with the company's logo she'd founded with the other survivors of Raccoon.

Beside her, someone was informing her of the situation. She nodded and moved away. Leon wove around two other people on the road. He moved behind the back of one of the empty ambulances. The light from the open bay cast his face in harsh white light.

Tired, Jill thought as she tried not to run toward him in the rain. He looked so tired. He seemed somehow young and fragile without all that hair in his face.

The paramedic had told her it was terrible. But she didn't need to go down the hill to see that. She saw it on his face. It was written all over him. He simply didn't walk away from something like this without feeling it in his guts.

It was risky, she knew that, but she risked it anyway.

He greeted her as she drew close, "Lovely weather we're having, huh? Nothing like a little rain on such a fine evening."

She stood next to him for just a moment as they both looked out into the darkness. The ambulance was a nice shield. It blocked the rest of the people by the wreck from seeing them.

Quietly, he laughed, but it sounded so sad, "The airlines are getting so cash-strapped, they're gonna start charging me for my emotional baggage."

Even now, it was terrible jokes like another shield against the loss. Jill said nothing. She stepped a little closer to him until their sides touched. He filled the silence, "You forget sometimes that it's not just bad guys with big guns and ugly faces. You forget sometimes it's kids. It's kids. I have to put bullets in the heads of kids. I don't know how I sleep at night sometimes."

Jill nodded. Sometimes it was just about being the one who listened. He added gruffly, "Does it make you a monster if you have dreams about killing people?"

She glanced up at his profile in the rain. He shook his head and finished, "Sometimes the only thing that makes it ok is knowing that eventually? I'm gonna be behind the gun that finishes it for good or die trying."

Her fingers curled into the front of his jacket. It made a sound as only leather could. He turned just his head and dropped it until their foreheads touched. Jill cupped the side of his face and told him, "Such a soft man. You hide it pretty well behind a big gun and a leather jacket."

He made a slight sound that was a genuine laugh. "Sure beats the hell outta crying like a girl over the bodies of babies."

Her lips pursed and she told him, "...watch it, smart guy. I'm a girl."

He opened his eyes to lock them on hers so close. Without missing a beat, he told her, "You're not a girl. You're a goddess. How else could possibly know when I need you?"

Jill's belly shivered. She tilted her chin to press their lips together. Soft. Swift. They let go and stepped apart.

With regret, she told him, "...I'm on duty. I should...get back to it."

And he gave her their favorite parting line, "Yeah. I know that story pretty well...it's good to see you, Jill."

Jill went down toward the wreckage. Leon turned into the rain to return to the side of a little girl waiting for a friend. There was no more time for regret.

With two fingers of scotch in a highball, he sat on the edge of the couch in the suite he was staying in. Tying up loose ends here would take a day or two. He was staying with Gina until Claire could arrive to accompany her to a foster family that waited.

Gina was behind the closed door of the suite in the bedroom. She'd been scared to stay alone, so he'd promised to stay out in the living area and sleep on the couch. It didn't matter. He could sleep on stones if he had to.

He threw back the scotch in his glass with a hiss as a soft knock on the door drew his attention.

Rising, he moved toward the door in his bare feet. The red tie around his neck was loose and dangling. The black dress shirt was crinkled and tugged free of his pants sloppily. His holster was still in place, but the gun was in his palm as he opened the room door.

Jill was there in blue yoga pants and a white tank top. Her hair was loose around her shoulders. She lifted a shoulder in a shrug. And he let her in.

No words.

None necessary.

She took the empty scotch glass out of his hands. She set it on the desk beside the television. Her hands returned to the front of his shirt. She wound his tie around her fist and brought him forward.

But it wasn't hands in the pants. It wasn't a fast fuck on the floor.

It was her arms around his neck. He tensed before he relaxed. He laid the gun on the arm of the couch and ducked a little down to her. His arms looped over her lower back, and he lifted her against his front, so her legs dangled as they hugged.

His face buried into the curve of her neck and shoulder.

He whispered, "A girl is sleeping in my bed."

Jill pressed a kiss behind his ear and replied, "I know. I can't be jealous of a young girl who needed a safe haven. You promised her you'd protect her, right? You said she'd be safe with you."

He lifted his head. Jill's hands slid into his hair. She shook hers. "Leon...this can't end well."

He smiled sadly, "I know. But what have we got to lose?"

She pressed a kiss to his mouth. They watched each other with open eyes. Finally, she told him, "Maybe tonight you don't sleep alone. Maybe that's how you sleep tonight."

His chest ached a little for her. He smiled and carried her to the couch while her legs kept dangling. They curled on it together; Jill tucked into his arm and against his chest. The gun lay on the floor beside them, a silent guardian.

And when she slept, he kept his eyes on the door until he was sure she was safe as well.

His hand stroked the skin of her arm. His mouth touched the top of her head. He inhaled her and felt the first measure of comfort he'd known in a long time.

He fell asleep, letting her soothe him.

Her phone rang in the middle of the night. She came awake with her ear on his chest, listening to his heart. It was a nice feeling. She hadn't ever slept beside someone.

Without waking him, she tried to answer her phone.

Chris. He had intel regarding Irving. He'd discovered that Oswell Spencer was alive. The head of Umbrella. The man they thought was long dead. Alive.

The answers they were seeking were waiting for them.

He was going to assemble a mission. Was she ready? She agreed and hung up the phone.

She laid it back on the floor with Leon's gun. As she was leaning up again, she caught his gaze in the moonlight. Softly, Jill told him, "Sorry. I was trying not to wake you."

Leon shook his head. She rolled entirely atop him, and their legs lined up. His hands smoothed her hair back from her face to see her in the dark.

"I wasn't asleep. Not really. You leaving?"

She shrugged. She leaned up to press a kiss to his mouth. "Not yet. Not right this second. Do you want me to?"

He shook his head no. He held her face for a long moment. Finally, he spoke again, "I don't think I ever want you to go. Kinda scary, right?"

Jill laughed. She kissed him again, gently. "I don't know. It feels kinda good. But I won't be gone long. A couple of days. What do you think about...maybe taking a little holiday with me when I'm done?"

He scanned her face and smiled, "I can't think of a reason to say no. Just a fair warning, I never get to finish a holiday."

She nodded, looking pensive. "So I hear. Maybe this time we go somewhere without phones."

"Oh. Now you're speaking my language. You own a bikini?"

Jill grinned and stacked her hands on his chest. "I do indeed. Why?"

"Throw it away. You won't need it."

"No? How about a dress?"

Leon declined that, "Nope. Clothes? Where we're going...we don't need any clothes."

Jill's eyes twinkled. "Back to the Future, huh? Nerd."

"I wanna see you in the sunlight when I'm inside you, Jill. That's about all I know."

Lord. Her heart thunked. She felt her face split into a big grin. "You and that mouth. Make a pun with that silver tongue before I fall in love with you."

His hands twisted a little in her hair. He volleyed his eyes around her grinning countenance. He was tired of feeling the pull of nothing. Maybe it was time to risk everything. So he said, "I'm already there. I'm in love with you, Jill. Tell me you don't know that."

Jill's grin slid away as he added, "I don't know when it happened. It doesn't matter. It's there. I'm there. Any time I'm down, I think about you. It's what gets me up."

Her brows winged up. Her eyes twinkled. He gave her a deadpan expression, "...pervert. But that parts true too."

She laughed and shook her head, "Leon...I have never felt for another man what I feel for you. I need some time to absorb that. It's a big deal. Saying it? It should matter."

He nodded. He tugged her up to press a kiss to her mouth. "I'm not pushing you here. I'm not asking you for anything. I just don't want to waste time lying about it anymore. If you don't feel it too, that's ok. It is. Because I'm not going to shatter, I'm hoping eventually, you will love me back."

Her hands curled into his hair. She kissed him like she'd put herself inside him and hide there. It was a good kiss. The first one that changed everything and left it all up in the air.

When they parted, she rose off the couch and told him, "When I get back, we'll spend some time getting to know each other. We need to take some time for ourselves, Leon. That's all I know right now."

"I agree. Be careful. I'll miss you, Jill."

She laughed. She dropped a kiss on his forehead as she grabbed her phone. "Mr. Kennedy, I started missing you when that phone rang."

He lay on the couch when she was gone and knew one thing was true: she was the only thing in his life that didn't feel tainted by the life he'd chosen. Turns out? Love could save you after all. If you just opened yourself up and let it.

Three days later, it was Hunnigan who ruined his world. She came on the line to tell him about a failed mission by the BSAA to arrest Spencer. Wesker had been there. Wesker had lured them. They'd walked into a trap.

Only one of them had walked out alive.

The mirror across from him reflected his face with the phone to his ear. It showed him end the call without a word. The empty glass in his hand took flight.

He launched it.

It struck the mirror. It shattered the glass. It was loud and horrible.

And the man staring back at him was now in a thousand pieces.