Phoenix:
10:
Friends
2004
Serpiente Rojo, Spain
The heat flowed through her body and stole her breath. She struggled, entwined, entombed, embroiled - her body became a nest for the snakes that coiled fire in her belly and veins. She wept, but there were no tears.
Inside her head, the voices cooed: "Freeeee...you're freeeee...follow and find your god...find your power. Gods have no timidity but spirits of power, love, and self-discipline. Trust in the power of the Holy Spirit. Be strong in your lord and almighty savior."
She wanted to be free. She liked the promise of it. Her body bowed. Her blood boiled. Her mouth opened, and no scream emerged. Her hands turned into claws that ripped at the fabric of reality and left it in tatters. Her hands ripped and tore at her clothes. Naked, she burst from her flesh like a mutated thing - fully formed, hungry, bleeding, and calling for absolution.
Something grabbed her and forced her down. She struggled, slapping, stabbing with hands that were now knives. No. How!? She didn't understand anymore. She bit and scratched. The monster fucked her while she resisted. It raped her while she wailed in denial.
Ashley exploded and threw blood in arcs and splatters all over the room. Something erupted from her chest like she was in Aliens. She gave birth on the floor in a pool of rot and guts. Her legs spread, her body bowing, and what emerged from her womb was evil. It crawled free and devoured everything it touched.
She birthed horror from her reluctant body and screamed.
And screamed.
And screamed.
She died in the puddle of black, still fighting.
And woke on a table with her hand on something soft and smooth.
The nightmares were visceral. They were terrifying. She could still feel that monster mounting her like a stallion to a mare. She could still feel her body expelling a mutated parasitic baby while it ripped her apart.
Jesus.
Her hand slid a little and touched the nape of a neck. The gold hair close to her fingers was soft even though it was filthy. Her head turned and found it wasn't a monster. Not even close.
It was a man.
Leon sat against the table where she lay. He looked exhausted but alert, and his eyes stayed on the open door before him. Ashley slid her hand into the back of his hair and whispered, "...thank you."
She remembered now. The stabbing. It wasn't a monster raping her - it was him hitting her with a syringe. He'd shot her full of something, and she was herself again. Her eyes teared up as he turned his head, and her hand slid through his hair to touch the side of his face. His smile was soft, "Hey...you ok?"
Ashley nodded, "You saved me."
Leon kept that smile on his face, "Not alone."
From the doorway, a hoot had her turning her gaze as Luis emerged, "It seems...I am Don Quixote after all."
He looked awful. He was pale and looked half dead. He had a bandage peaking out his jacket at the neck and added, "We have to come to save you, princess. And not a moment too soon."
Ashley glanced at Leon, who rolled his eyes, "Yeah. He's still kicking."
Her soft laugh was tinged with tears. She rolled to sit up and Leon kept a hand on her elbow, "You ok?"
She nodded. "I feel pretty good. What happened to you guys?"
Filthy and smelly, Luis and Leon both shrugged. Luis mused, "I took a stinger to the back for my troubles. Even bugs can't keep their hands off me."
Leon snorted, "He screamed so high-pitched I thought it was a girl," Leon imitated, "Leeeeooooon!" It was such a squeaky voice that it made Ashley laugh.
Luis looked offended. "It wasn't quite like that, Sancho. Dios mio."
Leon added with a wink, "He fell off a ladder, and I had to catch him like a hero."
Embarrassed, Luis encouraged, "We don't have time for this, mis amigos. Vamos."
He left the room and had Ashley grinning. "Did he really?"
Leon nodded, "Oh, yeah. He panicked and forgot how to fight, apparently. I caught him trying to hide in a dumpster."
Her eyes twinkled, "I know the feeling."
Before they left that room, she hugged Luis. He hooted, "See!? The ladies can't resist the accent!"
Ashley laughed. She turned. She gave Leon a chance to move, and he didn't. She hugged him a little more awkwardly than Luis. He patted her back, and she breathed, "I got you killed."
Leon let go of her and shook his head. "You saved my life. That bastard you knocked into the hole? His body stopped me from dropping into the pit and being impaled."
Luis shuddered, "Like taking off your pantaloons and running backward through a cornfield, si?"
Ashley blinked. Leon couldn't stop the short burst of a laugh. Luis lifted his arms in victory and did a little flamenco step, "You heard it, yes? I made the grumpy gato laugh!"
Leon rolled his eyes. "Proof or it didn't happen."
He walked to the door. Ashley murmured, "I heard it."
Luis returned in a stage whisper, "I'm growing on him."
And Leon simply said, "Like a rash on my balls, I can't quite scratch."
Luis chuckled. And Ashley thought - just maybe...they'd all come out of this with some semblance of humanity. If they could joke, they were still human.
They were still alive.
They made their way through the nasty island where they found themselves. She didn't remember arriving there. She didn't remember much after they'd had her drink the black crap in the chalice. It had tasted like mold and rot. It lingered in her mouth like mouthwash made of shit.
As they walked, Luis kept up the jokes. He pretended to be offended by Leon's jokes. At some point, they must have set aside their differences and decided to be friendly because their tension seemed less.
The three of them worked well together. She obeyed quickly and helped where she could. Luis remarked, "Man...I am famished, and what I wouldn't give for some grub."
Leon retorted, "Your accent gets muddled when you're hangry. You sure you're from Madrid? Sounds more like Juarez to me. Maybe you're looking for a good donkey show when this is over."
Luis gave him a droll look, "How dare you!" his tone was highly amused as he feigned affront, "I am Spanish, you ignorant cabron."
Leon shrugged, "Toledo, Tijuana...potato, potato. Tacos, right? Everybody likes them."
Luis huffed with fake offense and marched forward. "Americans...you know nothing beyond your own limited world."
Leon joked, "Why look beyond perfection?"
Luis chuckled and gave him the finger. Ashley grinned. It was so nice to feel normal. It was so nice to pretend.
Luis didn't let you dwell. He asked questions. He gave advice - bad advice, but advice. He mentioned a girl he'd loved who he wished he'd married. He warned Ashley against giving her heart too easily to a man who didn't deserve her.
"What was her name?"
Luis sighed, "Valentina LaPaz...the most beautiful mujer in all of Portugal. We danced. We made love beneath the moon. Her bosom...it glistened as I slid my ha-"
Leon smacked him in the back of the head, "Easy, Don Juan, we don't need to hear your failed sexcapades."
"...it's Don Quixote, amigo. Get it right."
Ashley told him, "You should find her and tell her how you feel."
Luis glanced at her face and smiled, "Ah...in some other life perhaps. This one...is not meant for love, I think. Not for me. But you, niña, you should never stop chasing it. I will make sure you get the chance."
"Focus on surviving first, Zorro," Leon advised in a bored tone, "the rest comes later."
They emerged from a room from a set of doors and then saw the giant chunk of amber. Luis froze, and his eyes widened. He whispered, "Hijo de la chingada...finally."
Leon froze. Ashley froze. Luis breathed, "Listen, rapido, we must move quickly now. We must get to my lab. We're running out of time. This amber...this is the source. This is the power. Help me de-"
The double doors opened with a peel of metal. Luis and Leon spun with their guns up.
Osmond Saddler came through with men in tow. Luis shot the first man through, and Saddler tossed out a hand. He was swatted like a fly and thrown into the wall, and the man garbed in robes began quoting scripture at them as he walked. He spoke the madness of a zealot, a genuine believer. He spoke like he'd found paradise, and they were rejecting the most incredible gift they'd ever know.
Leon shot him mid-speech, right between the eyes.
And then?
Then Leon collapsed to his hands and knees on the floor...screaming.
The scream was the worst thing Ashley had ever heard.
It left her frozen in horror before Saddler instructed, "Now...abandon your body."
And she just...did.
She went stiff. He was in her head like a whispering serpent in the garden of evil. He commanded, "Obey...obey the voice of our lord."
Like a puppet on strings, she moved. Her body shifted, and her hand picked up Leon's gun from the ground. Her mouth whimpered, and tears slid down her face. She pleaded with herself, "...no...please...no...stop..."
Like it would matter.
Like it would change anything.
She had no power.
She lifted the gun on Leon while he raised a hand toward her. To what? Stop her? Help her? What? Their eyes locked. She begged, "...Leon..."
And the gun went off. The man behind him to his left dropped - executed with a shot through the left eye. Saddler sighed, "Stop resisting! OBEY!"
His echoing call made her body numb as the gun shifted a fraction of an inch and went off again. Her finger pulled the trigger and killed the man to the right of Leon. Leon's eyes held hers, desperate, determined - calm. He looked so quiet under the pain that etched his features.
He looked almost peaceful, like he wasn't afraid to die. Like he trusted her, and he shouldn't have.
He didn't understand.
She wasn't herself anymore.
She turned the gun on him.
He spoke softly through clenched teeth, "...fight."
Fight.
She was trying. She was trying so hard. Her finger slid on the trigger, and she pulled it. The bullet hit but not Leon. Because Luis dove into him to save his life—a fraction of a second for it all to happen. Luis tackled Leon and took them both down.
They went to the floor and slid, smacking into the wall. Ashley aimed at them both, and Luis grunted, covering Leon as he offered, "It's ok. Do it."
Ashley whimpered, "...no...no, please..."
Saddler commanded, "Finish him."
Leon shouted, "Ashley!"
And she pulled the trigger. The gun bucked, and she emptied the magazine into the floor inches from them both.
Luis collapsed as Ashley dropped the gun. Leon screamed again as Saddler commanded, "Foolish lambs. Why do you resist grace? So be it. My disciple will finish you both - the Judas and the fool. Come, girl. Obey."
She did. Her body jerked. She turned and walked away while Luis died on the floor - shot in the chest by her. Shot in the chest because he'd given her his vest. Shot in the chest by someone he'd spent so long trying to save.
Her legs made her move. Her heart hurt, and her fear throbbed as Leon shouted after them.
And she felt the horror of knowing she'd killed someone who'd trusted her.
The last piece of her died there on the floor beside him.
All that was left of her now was a ghost.
2005
Massachusetts
The shower beat down on her tired face. She stood in the warmth and let it massage away the aches. She thought of Luis - so happy, hopeful, laughing, and joking.
She'd killed him. She'd shot him and killed him. Her only other friend. A man she'd come to respect and admire.
She'd shot him in cold blood.
The grief clawed around her heart as she exited the shower and slid on a white nightgown. She padded through her apartment toward her bedroom and heard the rustling in the kitchen. She knew Leon was there, and he'd sleep on her couch tonight to be close by if she needed him.
She detoured from her bedroom and stopped in the living room.
He glanced at her as she stood barefoot and damp, eyes tired in her pale face.
She demanded, "How did Kyle get into the program? How!? He was insane."
Leon eyed her and promised, "I don't know. But I will damn sure find out."
"Did someone put him there to kill me?"
His eyes studied her in the shadows, "...I don't know."
"...did you shoot him when he raised that gun at me?"
"Yes."
They stared at each other as she accused, "That was cheating. It was my job to handle it without you."
Leon answered, "Yes."
"You broke the rules."
Voice hard; he returned, "Not until he did. I guarantee his father pulled strings and faked his damn releases to get him in the program. He wasn't a viable candidate. He was son of a bitch with a god complex and a chemical dependency. He's not dead. That's the best he gets."
He'd broken the rules of training to help her. He'd shot Kyle to keep him from killing her. He'd kept her from killing Kyle to protect her. She should be pissed. She should be angry.
She wasn't, and she was kind of afraid she was getting a crush that would crush her because he'd saved her life. Again. It was, it seemed, all he knew how to do.
Ashley demanded, "Tell me about Jack Krauser."
Surprised, Leon set down the tumbler of whiskey in his hand. He shifted on the couch. "What about him?"
"You killed him."
They locked eyes. "I did."
She waited. He waited. Her voice was gravelly with regret as she encouraged, "He was your friend."
Leon licked his lips. He shifted a little. She knew some of what she was asking was classified. Of course, it was. The things he'd done at the government's behest weren't for public consumption, and he could only tell her so much.
But maybe he could tell her enough to help her understand him, and maybe...it would help her understand herself.
When she was sure he wouldn't answer, he did and reminded her why she liked him so much. "He wasn't my friend. He was the man who trained me, and he was my partner when it suited the mission. He was...a bastard."
Ashley held his eyes as he confessed, "He was never kind. He was never considerate. He didn't care about your feelings, failures, or excuses. He was a ruthless taskmaster, and he was good at it."
She waited, watching him gather his resolve to tell her things he didn't want to tell anyone. "He taught me to survive, Ashley. He taught me to keep fighting. He didn't try to pretend to be my friend...but I respected him. Because he had a greater love of this country than any man, I'd ever met."
She wasn't so sure about that. Leon's patriotism was legion. It had to be, to do what he did. It had to be to give up pieces of himself for its survival.
"Jack never left a job undone. He never left a man behind...but something happened to him. After we had a mission in Columbia, something changed. He was betrayed - his men slaughtered to cover up the mistakes made by higher-ups there. He watched them all die."
Ashley didn't want to feel pity for the man who'd ruined her life. She didn't want to feel anything for him, but the burning hatred that ate around her heart and left her breathless. But that wasn't the same man that Leon spoke of now. It wasn't the same man he'd been at the end.
Something had made him a monster.
"And it broke him," Leon admitted with a tone of pain and understanding that resonated. She watched the truth of that echo on his face as he acknowledged, "It turned him against what he stood for."
She nodded, "...because he cared too much."
He met her eyes in the dark, "No...because he was weak."
Surprised, she held that silver gaze that burned with righteous anger, "He was weak, Ashley. He let his feelings and his own need for revenge make him a traitor. He betrayed everything he stood for. The man I killed...it wasn't the man I'd respected. It was his shell. It was what was left of him - something dark, ugly, and warped. I respected Major Jack Krauser...but that wasn't who I put in the ground."
Ashley waited long before she breathed, "...but it mattered. He mattered."
Leon nodded finally and agreed, "I wouldn't be who I am without him. Good or bad, he helped make me the man I am today."
"It cost you to kill him."
Something flickered in his eyes, "It should. When you kill someone...it should matter. When it's someone you trusted once...it's worse. But it happens. It's the job. Sometimes? You kill the things that matter."
A warning. A promise? A threat? It was hard to tell. But he was making sure she knew - that every time you pulled the trigger didn't mean the person on the other end had always been your enemy. And that the edge of a knife was a hard place to balance when you wanted to believe you were good.
Kyle had tried to kill her just to win. Krauser had died at Leon's hand to pay for the madness he'd wrought. There was no line anymore between good and evil when it came to what they did.
It wasn't always a question of what you were fighting for...sometimes it was a question of what you were willing to kill for.
She shifted on her feet. "I know how that feels...to kill someone who mattered to you."
His brow furrowed, "...you didn't kill Kyle."
She shook her head, "Not him...Luis."
Surprised, he arched his brows. "What?"
"I shot him," her voice broke and pissed her off, "I shot him because I was trying to shoot you. I was trying to kill you. Because I couldn't stop it. And he jumped in the way. He saved you, and I killed my friend."
She saw a friend in a man who ultimately helped put her in harm's way. She was so soft. Gentle. Her kind soul forgave enough to attach a label-like friendship to a man who didn't deserve it. Yes, Luis had helped save her, but it didn't make him a good man. And it didn't earn him friendship.
But for a girl like Ashley, the difference was irrelevant. She only saw the good and looked over the bad Luis had done. She needed to learn the difference between friend and comrade in arms. But it didn't mean she had to carry weight she hadn't earned.
Leon rose from the couch. He came toward her swiftly but with steady steps. "Hey...hey hey..." he lifted a hand at her and shook his head, "look at me."
She couldn't. She stared at the wall to his right. He took her arms and demanded, "Look at me."
Finally, she did. She turned her gaze, and he told her, "Luis did die saving me."
Her face collapsed, and he clarified, "But you didn't kill him, Ashley. That gunshot didn't kill him. That book you gave him? It stopped the bullet. He knew what he was doing. You didn't kill him. It wasn't you."
She shook her head, "You're lying. You're saying that to make me feel better. You're lying to me."
He shook her a little, "I said listen to me. You hear me?"
Ashley nodded.
"Krauser...he blocked my way. Krauser killed Luis. A sneak attack. Unexpected. Luis was wounded, yes, but he wasn't dead. He was just between me and the son of a bitch who wanted me dead."
When she said nothing, he went on, "Krauser had a playground set up just to kill me. Just to finish me off. Luis was a bonus kill for him. Saddler wanted Luis gone. He wanted it over. He tasked Krauser to finish us both...Luis...just wasn't fast enough. Krauser..." Leon drew a hard breath, "Krauser got him in the back before either of us even knew he was there."
Ashley felt her heart kick, "Because he didn't have the vest. I shot him, and Krauser killed him - in the back...in the goddamn back because he gave me his vest. Because it was more important to him to protect us than to save himself. He was my friend."
Damnit. She'd kill herself thinking that way.
"He wasn't your friend."
Ashley gave him a dirty look, "That's a helluva thing to say about a man who saved your life."
Leon nodded, licked his lips, and returned, "He helped us, but he wasn't your friend, Ashley. He didn't care about you, not really; he cared about settling his score with god or whatever the hell waited on the other side."
Ashley shook her head, "Shut up. How can you stand there and talk shit about a man who died to save you!? Who does that!?"
Trying to get through to her, Leon urged calmly, "It was what he wanted, Ashley. It was all he wanted in the end. To help and redeem himself somehow. He wanted to be a knight. And he died like one. Fighting like hell to make a difference."
Her eyes leaked as she breathed, "He might have seen it coming if I hadn't shot him."
Leon shook his head, "No. No. You hear me? I didn't see it coming, either. I didn't. You wanna blame someone? Blame me. I failed him."
Her eyes flared as he said again in a gruff and pained tone, "I failed him. I didn't kill Jack in the Jungle years ago. I failed. And it got you kidnapped and Luis killed. Not you. Never you. Me."
Ashley shook her head. She denied that. She grabbed handfuls of his shirt and gushed, "How could you know what he was? How can you blame yourself for that? You're not god, Leon. You can't see the future, and you couldn't know what he was."
Leon shook his head, "I knew. Some part of me knew what he was capable of, and it knew. And I let him live. If I'd finished him off in the jungle...none of this would have happened."
And now she understood. She got it. She'd thought something about that mission had been personal for him. Now she understood. It was. He blamed himself for Jack Krauser being alive to serve Saddler. He blamed himself for everything.
He was a guy who took the world's weight on his shoulders and carried it like Atlas. If he shrugged, the world would fall away, shatter, and leave those within it dead and broken. He didn't understand that none of it was his fault. It couldn't be because he wasn't to blame.
Neither of them was.
But they both stood mired in regret and guilt.
She tilted his face down to her and pressed her forehead to his. His eyes were closed as she laid a kiss on his right eye and demanded, "It's not your fault, Leon."
He denied that, trying to peel her away from him, but she held on, pressing another kiss to his left eye. "Let it go, Leon. Let it go."
He softly and almost brokenly pleaded, "What happened to you is my fault. It's mine. I'm so sorry."
He wasn't just talking about Krauser. She knew that. He was talking about Kyle and her infection and what he hadn't stopped in Raccoon City. He was seeking something so much bigger than just her - absolution...but he couldn't find that here, and she didn't have it to give.
And he didn't need it. He just didn't understand that.
Her heart. It hurt, and it ached. It healed a little to know he was hurting so much. Like she was, but they weren't alone anymore. Not now. Not ever again. Only if they chose to be.
Ashley shook her head and kissed his forehead. He made a slight sound of denial, and she demanded, "You don't need forgiveness, Leon. Do you hear me? It's not your fault."
Leon started to pull away as he declared, "Damnit...damnit...this isn't about me. I'm sorry. I was trying to comfort you, not turn into some whiny cry baby. Fuck."
Ashley held on and demanded, "Take the comfort, Leon. Let me give it to you..."
When he started to argue, she pleaded, "Please...please let me help you. Please..."
He didn't have the heart to deny her. Comforting him seemed to work to give her peace in a way her own recovery hadn't. Helping him somehow helped her. And it cost him nothing to let her.
But the part of him that had stood so long on his own didn't quite know how to drop those shields completely and let her in.
When he shook his head again, she leaned on tiptoe to kiss his mouth, murmuring, "Stop fighting, Leon. Stop fighting. And let it go."
He wondered if she'd ever take her own advice.
She rubbed their lips together until he opened his enough for her to slide her tongue inside his mouth. His hands on her arms squeezed. Still resisting her and still resisting this. Still resisting himself.
But his lips and teeth opened, and his tongue swirled to twine with hers. His hand shifted and slid. One cupped the back of her head, the other pressed into the small of her back to bring her flush against him. Her hands fisted in his hair to bring his face down for her assault.
She went and met the arrow of his mouth with her own. Amorous, they kissed wetly - nearly as wet as the rain on the roof above them - he pressed back until her back touched the wall. Her hands tried to reach him under his shirt, but the holster stopped her at the chest.
When she gasped, his mouth released hers long enough to catch her hands painting over his chest. He pinned them above her head and held them there. She knew he was trying to gather the resolve to stop. She could see it on him.
Softly, she begged, "...feel me, Leon. Feel me. I'm here. I'm alive. And that? That's entirely your fault."
A joke. A soft joke. A poor one, maybe, but done to try to lighten the mood. Done to show him what really mattered. It wasn't the things they couldn't control- it was their choices.
And wanting him was hers. It was up to him if he chose to want her back...and forgive himself for what he couldn't control.
She watched him struggle. She watched him give in enough to lean down and kiss her again. Their mouths blended almost lazily.
A smooth, soft, nearly perfect kiss.
When they were both breathless, he let go of her mouth and pressed their foreheads together. They both breathed raggedly.
Ashley whispered, "He was my friend, Leon. He was. And so are you. I'm your friend. Be mine...because I can't lose any more friends."
He didn't think anyone had ever asked him to be their friend with such...desperation. He couldn't be her friend. Not really, and not like she deserved. But he could be there for her. And so, he let her be there for him.
Maybe that was what friendship was, after all. Perhaps it was just being there for each other when everything else was lost. Maybe that's how you became "friends".
His left hand moved. It caught the back of her neck, and he dragged her forward. He tugged her so hard into him that they were clinging almost desperately in a hug before she could do more than yearn for him. They clutched each other almost too tight, and neither let go.
She wondered if they ever would.
They were both walking with ghosts. The path was fraught with things they could have done, things they didn't say - people they'd left behind or lost. His path was so long that Ashley wondered if he could see anything but the dead around him as he moved.
He'd carried her when she couldn't walk. He'd stood guard over her when she'd been nearly lost. He'd buried so many bodies to save her that it had made him a legend - and left him a wreck of regret. He wasn't a machine, as the recruits had whispered, and he wasn't a weapon.
He was a man.
And the man needed a fucking hug. Just one. Just for a moment. Just a reminder that he wasn't alone. And that one of those ghosts that haunted him wasn't his own.
Softly, desperately, Ashley promised, "...I got you, Leon...I got you. I'm right here."
She held on. She held on as he'd done for her while he put his face in her neck and did the same. She held on and didn't let go until he was ready.
