Chapter 7. Dangerous Cravings

People were running towards Leon, calling out for help as hordes of undead pursued them with outstretched arms. "Help me !" The civilians screamed. "Save me !" Some of them were no more than children, tears running down their faces in fear and despair.

"Hang on !" Leon aimed his gun. He took a shot, then another, three, four, five times, rotten bodies keeling over on the concrete with a wet splat…but eventually, he ran out of bullets. People shrieked in terror as the zombies grabbed them and bit down on necks, arms, faces – tearing out the flesh from their live prey. These monsters didn't care about the pain they were inflicting, what they were doing. Only mindless eating. Always eating.

And Leon could do nothing to stop it. He couldn't do anything, and the useless gun fell out of his hand to clatter at his feet. His knees followed suit, giving out under him. He watched helplessly as one by one, people were picked off and killed off in the most excruciating way imageinable, until finally the zombies circled him too.

He waited with grim acceptance for their teeth to chomp down, but instead their yellowed eyes watched him…judged him. "You can't save anyone." One of them said in a broken voice.

"No !" Leon cried out, breathing hard…he blinked, letting his eyes adjust to the familiar shapes in the darkness around him. He was in his apartment. He wasn't in Raccoon City. That should've brought him some comfort, but the memories he kept buried deep inside resurfaced like old ghosts. He sat up on the leather couch, pressing the heels of his palms against his temples, trying to get the images out of his head through sheer force.

Robert and his daughter, who was slowly turning into a zombie. Ada falling to her death – even though, it turns out she had made it out after all. That police officer, the last one alive, bitten and grievously wounded. And all those people who had never stood a chance against the virus, people he would've protected had Raccoon City been a normal city, and he had stayed in the force.

He couldn't stand the memories anymore. He had to get them out – or stop feeling entirely. He stood up and stumbled towards the kitchen, thinking about that bottle of whiskey he'd stashed in one of the cabinets. He would guzzle it down like water, and it would burn his insides on the way down, making his mouth salivate at its bitterness. In a few minutes, it would make his mind go numb.

That was the idea…except that instead of walking straight, his feet – of their own volition, turned right, and his hand grasped the metal knob to the bedroom. He turned it, and the door creaked open.

There she was, sleeping soundly. Her fluffy hair was splayed about on his pillow, her chest rising up and down rhythmically. He'd witnessed enough if her nightmares, or rather the state she was in every time she had one, to be comforted by how peaceful she now looked.

Suddenly, Leon didn't feel like drinking anymore. The vestiges of his own nightmare were fading like dust in the wind, and he slid down against the frame till he was sitting on the floor, half in the room, half out. He leaned his head back, still shaky from what he'd dreamed up – but one glance at Ashley, and he could feel himself relaxing. Could breathe again.

Why was that ? Why was her presence like a balm on his anxiety, soothing it away ? Thoughts of her smile, her humor – the twinkling in her eyes when she was about to cause mischief, was enough to chase away the despair of Raccoon City. For so many years, he'd desperately wanted to erase the pain of that single night…and he did, when he was with Ashley.

That's why he'd taken up the job as her bodyguard. That's why he enjoyed it so much, even when he had to spend hours listening to boring college lectures. Because being near her made him feel… good. After becoming an agent – working for the D.S.O like a machine, doing mission after mission…that's something he hadn't felt in years. Good.

Leon glanced at his charge's sleeping form again, and he wondered when his feelings had crossed the line, going from professional to…something he wanted. Something he craved the more time he spent with her.

…

Limbo. That's what this place was – this place of emptiness, where nothing but darkness existed. And those red eyes, which were still staring at Ashley. "What are you ?"

" You."

She glared at the creature, whatever it was. "What do you want from me ?"

This time the thing didn't respond, so Ashley took a tentative step. Then another. Closer now, that's when she noticed something was different from the first time she'd seen it. No longer just floating eyeballs, the eyes now had a face. A shiver climbed up her spine, a foreboding feeling. "Show yourself." She said, with no real strength behind her words.

The eyes blinked, and then the darkness around it dissipated...Ashley was staring at another version of herself. One with eyes that glowed red and a cruel smile. "Hello," Her doppelganger said in an exact copy of her voice, with an edge of something inhuman.

Ashley resisted the urge to recoil. It wasn't doing anything threatening…yet, so she stood her ground. "Are you the Plaga ?"

"I'm you."

"Stop saying that." She snapped in anger. But then she remembered something – something James Shepherd had said… it seems the Plaga's DNA merged with yours. "You were the Plaga. But if you're a part of me now, then how…"

"How am I talking to you, as if I was my own person ?" The thing grinned. "Because you're rejecting me…but not for long." Her arm jabbed forward – straight inside Ashley's chest, reaching for her heart.

She gasped, grasping empty air where the arm was just a moment ago…and found herself back in Leon's bed, the sheets a tangled mess in her legs. You're okay, Ashley told herself as anxiety rolled over her like a wave. Nothing's happening.

But something had happened. As much as she wanted to believe the dream has just been another fucked up manifestation of her traumatized mind, she knew that wasn't the case. She had to tell Leon about this…but first, she had to go look for him.

That's when the appetizing smell of hot food reached her nose, making her mouth salivate. She might not have been hungry yesterday, but today she was famished and wasted no time getting out of bed.

Stepping out the room, Ashley halted as soon as her eyes landed on Leon's figure in the kitchen. She'd never thought she'd see Leon S. Kennedy – her savior and bodyguard, in an apron of all things. Wearing an apron wasn't exactly unusual, but seeing such a domestic piece of clothing around Leon's muscular frame was wholly unexpected, and way more funny that it should've been. She clamped a hand over her grinning mouth – trying to smother a laugh, unsuccessfully.

His head snapped up at the sound, and the view was made even funnier as he was in the middle of moving sunny-side-up eggs from the pan to the plates, a wooden spatula in his right hand. He looked so…homely. "Well, look who's awake. And right on time, too."

Ashley walked to the kitchen bar, where two plates had been set out. Around them were various little dishes – marmalade, butter, toasted bread, bread with grain, crackers, and bacon. "You made this ?"

"Fried some eggs ?" He said in self-deprecating humor. "Yeah, and stuck some bread in the toaster too."

She stuck her tongue out, making him chuckle. "So it doesn't make you a master chef – but thank you, anyway. You didn't have to."

"You're welcome." He said as he took his seat next to her, and they began filling their plates. "How are you feeling today ? Still sore ?"

"Yeah, but it's a lot more manageable now." She replied as she took a bite of crisp bacon. "I still haven't changed my mind, by the way." Ashley tried to sound casual as she brought up yesterday's topic, but she couldn't help being nervous as she saw him hold back a sigh.

"I know. And I'm not going to stop you, if that's really what you want to do. If we can help your father out – and learn something about the Plaga too, then let's do it." He responded, sounding surprisingly pragmatic.

She blinked at her bodyguard, not expecting him to agree so easily. He must've thought it over during the morning while she was still sleeping. "What changed your mind ?"

"I guess…I owe the president, in a way. That, and if you really want to do something – then it's not my place to stop you, even if I…"

Her heart began racing at the words he didn't say. "Even if you…what ?"

"…nothing. We should let Mr. Thompson know of your decision. But first, we need to talk about your living arrangements."

Deflection. Ashley had noticed over time that Leon had a tendency of going formal whenever he was deflecting. Though the subject of 'living arrangements' distracted her from digging deeper. "What do you mean ?"

"If we're going to be working together as undercover agents, staying at the President's estate won't be ideal."

"Why not ?"

"Because we can't be worrying about the press following you everywhere. Not to mention that your mother's going to have questions, too."

Ashley's eyes went round at the mention of her. Mom ! She must be worried sick…"Did you –"

"– call her ? Yeah, as soon as I brought you here. I've been updating her as much as I could on what's been happening, but it's better if she doesn't know about this...mission. For her own safety."

She nodded, agreeing. Her mother was aware of the D.S.O's existence, and the fact that monsters existed, including the little tidbit that Ashley could've become one herself…still can. She ignored the thought, forcing herself to continue eating. "So where do you suggest I stay ? I guess I could try looking for a cheap hotel near the facility…" She mumbled the last part absent-mindedly, her mind still on her mom.

But when Leon didn't answer, she looked up from her plate. He was giving her a strange look. Or rather, he was looking at her as if she was the strange one. "Actually, I was thinking you should move in for the duration of the mission."

Ashley coughed, almost choking on the piece of bread she'd been chewing – swallowing too soon. The truth was, with the stress of the situation and everything that had happened, she hadn't even had the opportunity to fully enjoy the fact that she was in Leon's apartment – sleeping in a bed that smelled like him, using his things, even wearing his clothes. On another day, all those things might've flustered her, but he hadn't exactly brought her here on the best circumstances.

However, if she wasn't flustered before – now she definitely was. Not everyone had the chance to experience their crush literally asking them to move in – regardless that the reason wasn't particularly romantic. "Move in ? Like… move in ?" She repeated like the moron she'd turned into.

She caught the amused smile sneaking onto his lips – before he tamped it down, but the humor was still there. "I can protect you better this way, too. Why, is there an issue ?"

No other issue than the fact I have a major crush on my bodyguard, she thought, resisting the redness that wanted to creep in her cheeks. "Nope. Not at all. Though I do need to get some stuff, and maybe clear the air with my mom before we do this." She didn't want to disappear on her (again), and plus she needed things like lady products, clothes of her own, her phone, her wallet, and things to keep herself busy while they weren't being undercover agents. Even in her head, that sounded so weird.

"Fair enough. We can go as soon as you're done eating, if you want." She nodded in reply, and hurried up with her meal.

…

" Ashley !" Her mom exclaimed, bursting out of the house as soon as she and Leon had set foot on the porch. "Oh, my little girl. Are you okay ?"

She suddenly felt like crying. No, she wasn't okay. Her body had been changed in a way she had yet to understand – a way that was most likely more bad than good, and very soon she would be flinging herself into the lair of a man who had tortured her, when he'd promised nothing would happen. All in all, Ashley was terrified, and being in her mother's embrace was something she had needed more than she'd known. "Yeah," She replied with a sniff. "I missed you. I'm sorry about before."

"Oh, sweetheart, you have nothing to be sorry for. You're right, I was too harsh on you – inconsiderate. But you're home now, and everything's going to be okay."

"Mom…did...did Leon tell you I'm…"

"Sick ? I know. But it's all right. The doctors at the D.S.O will take care of you. Right ?"

"Actually, that's why I'm here. It's, um…probably better if I stay at the facility, so they can take care of me better. They don't know what's wrong with me, exactly, so they want to keep an eye on me." That sounded believable enough, right ?

"What ?" Her mother gasped, pressing a hand to her chest. "Why haven't I been informed of this ? I'm going to call these doctors right now, and give them a piece of my –"

"Ma'am, it's need to know only." Leon interrupted then, preventing a disaster in the making.

The woman rolled her eyes. "Of course it is." She sighed, sounding more weary than Ashley had ever heard her. Normally her mom was more than happy to oblige, doing anything and everything to help her husband – whether that was pasting a perfect smile at all times, modeling her daughter to be the same, or living a life of constant confidentiality. But, maybe it was hard on her too, sometimes.

"Don't worry, I'll be better in no time." She smiled, making a promise she wasn't sure she could keep.

…

Leon watched his charge like an eagle, eyes laser-focused on her face as she packed some essentials from her bedroom. After that emotional exchange with her mother, he was making sure she was all right – ready to swoop in at the tiniest sign that all this was too much for her. He almost hoped it was, so she'd back down and be reassigned to another facility while the government took care of Derek Simmons. But her back was ram-rod straight, pensieve as she grabbed some clothes.

And that's when he noticed the brightness of said clothes. "Wait ! Leave those."

She stopped midway, a bright orange skirt in hand, eyebrows tightening to a confused frown. "Why ?"

"I'm sorry, but you'll have to keep a low profile if we're going to do this. It won't do if paparazzi realize we're living together – not to mention stalkers and creeps in general."

Grumbling under her breath, she shoved the colorful pieces of clothing back in the dresser. Thank God they hadn't been in that other closet of hers. "You know, I can't imagine why anyone would want to be famous. There are just too many drawbacks. You can't go outside without being ambushed by flashing cameras, you have to worry twice as hard about psychos coming on to you and kidnapping you…I mean, I'm sorry. I just don't see the appeal."

Leon smiled faintly. "Neither do I. But...I guess some celebrities are pretty loved by their fans."

" Too loved, sometimes. Can you imagine a group of fangirls throwing their panties at your face ?" She scrunched up her nose in distaste, making him chuckle.

"I didn't mean that kind of love." He replied with an arched brow, and this time it was her time to laugh.

"Anyway. I'll buy some clothes online and have them delivered, instead. I think I'm done then." She'd packed a small bag of bathroom essentials, products, her laptop and phone, notebooks, and a couple novels. Leon had also grabbed a few things from his own room here, seeing as he did live here for two months.

After Ashley said goodbye to her mom – promising to call her often, they didn't leave the same way they'd come in. It was a good thing they'd both packed lightly, because Leon exchanged the car for a motorcycle and drove out the residence through the backdoor reserved for staff members. That way, the press wouldn't see what vehicle they were using, or even that they'd left in the first place.

"Woo !" Ashley's voice was muffled by the bulky helmet she was wearing, her left hand raised to catch the wind while her arm held on to his waist. "I didn't know you could drive bikes !"

"I can drive a helicopter too !" He shouted back.

"Show-off !" He caught the wide grin behind the tinted glass shielding her face from wind debris. Unfortunately, their lighthearted moment ended as soon as they got back, after Ashley told him about the strange dreams she'd been experiencing…dreams where she spoke to her parasite self.

"And you're sure they're not just dreams ?" He knew they weren't, but he asked anyway – hoping to be proved wrong.

She shook her head, blonde hair whooshing at the motion. "Positive. In both dreams, it was like…I was conscious while I was sleeping, somehow. I knew I was dreaming. It wasn't just happening to me – I could think and make choices…I don't know. I'm not making any sense, am I ?"

"No, no. It's just…as much as I hate to admit it, Mr. Thompson and Simmons were both right."

"Simmons ? What did he say ?"

He repeated the words. Mr. Kennedy will soon realize he needs our help, if he hopes to have any hope of protecting the president's daughter and the people around her. He had been right. He did need his help.

To be Continued…